therefore, cannot be the meaning of the words. The Bible is never at variance with facts. Accordingly, we find the very author of our text, bearing witness to the unsatisfactory nature of mere earthly wisdom. (Eccles. i. 16, to the end.) If ever the wisdom of any man could afford, the wisdom of the wisest must have done so. But you have heard him rank it with the other unsatisfactory vanities of earth. We are told of the uncertainty of riches; and, therefore, we are exhorted "not to labor to be rich." It is added in the same verse "Cease from thine own wisdom." Prov. xxiii, 4.

What then is the meaning of those interesting words, which form the chief ingredients of that happiness, after which all are seeking? They are not used in their ordinary sense: for, in that case, the passage would not be true, and would stand at variance with other parts of Scripture. It is always the safest way of interpreting Scripture language: and, especially those phrases which are peculiar to scripture, when we can make the divine word its own interpreter. If you turn to the twenty-eighth verse of the twenty-eight chapter of Job, you will have a beautiful illustration of what I mean. There the very same words occur, which are found in our text, accompanied with a full and explicit explanation, "Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil, is understanding." "The fear of the Lord," you know, is a common expression in Scripture for true religion. It indicates a feeling of the profoundest reverence, mingled with adoring love, which is the right state of mind in which a creature should regard his Creator. To be truly happy, then, we must be truly religious. The understand

This too, is an ingredient of happiness, and is the consequent of the former. True happiness is inseparably connected with holiness.

You will say, This is no new discovery. We have been often told so. Aye, but have you felt it to be a truth; and have you acted upon it as a truth? If so, whatever be your sorrows, you can tell that you have a joy which the world cannot give, and which it cannot take away. If you have not this joy, you have not yet laid hold on this true wisdom. Seek for her, for happy is the man that findeth her.

It appears then, that sin is the cause of all the misery that is in the world. There is a sense of guilt, and a dread of punishment, which, the most careless sometimes feel, and which must soon burst with overwhelming force upon them in that place, where conscience will be ever awake. How blessed then is he "whose transgression is forgiven whose sin is covered," &c. (Psalm, xxxii.) This consciousness of guilt must form a great part of the unhappiness of every one, whose conscience is not seared as with a hot iron. In the gospel then there is a remedy for this. The blessedness mentioned in the Psalm may be our's, if we believe that Christ died for our sins. But the misery arising from a sense of guilt, is not the only misery connected with sin; nor is it this which constitutes the main part of the unhappiness of mankind. An awakened conscience has driven many to despair, and the thinking part of mankind are often oppressed by the unwelcome intrusions of its warning voice. But the gay unthinking multitude, who never reflect, and who never think of futurity,-. are they oppressed with a sense of guilt?-They often are. And yet is it true, that many dance

along from the cradle to the grave, in whom the past has excited no remorse, and the future no anxiety. And yet these were not happy. They roved from pleasure to pleasure, seeking what they could not obtain. Their very love of novelty, showed that the last amusement could amuse no longer. They have sunk to the grave, and they are miserable now. There is a misery then connected with sin, independent of a sense of guilt, or rather, I should say, Sin itself is misery. It is sin which has stamped vanity on all the means of happiness which the world presents. It is sin which has mingled bitterness with every earthly pleasure. In this view of the matter, every sinner must be unhappy, and that independent of the torments of conscience, or the foreboding of torments greater still. Misery must be mingled up with his very existence, and every enjoyment must be embittered by the principle of unhappiness which is in his own breast. One of the scripture names of the devil, means the self tormentor; and the appellation is applicable, in a certain degree, to every worker of iniquity. This is evidently the deadliest wound sin has given, but the religion of the Bible has a cure for this too.

In the gospel we are offered pardon, and this can disarm conscience and take the sting from death. But this is not all. We must be purified, as well as pardoned, ere our salvation be complete. The natural consequence of sin, is punishment proportioned to the enormity of the crime;a full pardon frees us from all the overwhelming consequences of our guilt. But sin itself is a punishment; and, so long as we are sinners, no pardon, however full or free, can save us from this punishment. While we remain depraved and

unholy, we must be unhappy. A change of character then is the only hope of deliverance. And for this, most ample means are provided in the gospel of Christ. The very history of that atonement which procured our pardon, has a tendency, while we meditate upon it, to promote our holiness. While we look to Christ, we are made like him. While we behold that glory with unveiled faces, we are changed into the same image from glory to glory. It is by believing in Christ then, and thinking much of his person and his history, that we shall find that wisdom, and get that understanding, which shall make us truly happy. For thus shall we fear the Lord, in the sense of that term; and thus too shall we be led to depart from evil.

My dear Trail;

Dysart House, October 13, 1826.

Perhaps I should have written sooner, but I trust you will not attribute this delay to want of affection. I have really nothing particular to com'municate, except my very sincere thanks for your truly kind and refreshing letter. I trust this will find you a preacher of the gospel; and I am sure, if once all external barriers are removed; the state of those around you, will constrain you to be instant in season, and out of season. You mention having heard from our dear friend Adam; and I suppose, he addressed you on the subject which has taken possession of his whole soul. Have you been thinking more of the missionary work. I feel the argument for personal engagement every day more strong; and if there are times when I have a longing persuasion that it may be my duty

to remain at home, they are times when the chilling influence of the world has cooled every holy affection. This convinces me, more than any thing, that the matter is of God. Did I tell you, that our friend, Rentoul, has been so impressed with the duty of preaching to the Heathen, as to have almost (I trust, by this time, altogether) decided on offering his services to the London Missionary Society? Henry Craik has written me, since his arrival at Exeter, which he seems to like very much. John Brown and he are making some exertion for the spiritual good of the people. I had a letter from Mr. Adam yesterday, who seems to think of Madras as the place of his des tination. I suppose he had begun to study Sunskirt when he wrote to you. He goes on with it. I could have wished much to accompany John Adam, but many circumstances seem to demand a considerable delay on my part. May the Lord make me submissive. I know his ways are the best. Generally on looking back, we can see that every step we took was necessary for our welfare, although when we took these steps, all was darkness and perplexity;-"The Lord leadeth the blind by a way that they know not." It is a privilege even to be blind, if we have such a Leader. Since we came here, the Earl of Rosslyn's family have been all at home, and there has been a good deal of company. Lord Loughborough, Lord Rosslyn's son, was married last Tuesday.

I feel that the near approach of rank and fashion has a strong, though almost imperceptible influence, in superinducing a spirit of worldliness. Every new scene that opens to me, convinces me that the world in which we live is more dan