"Some years ago, David Sands, and two others of the friends; or people called Quakers, were travelling in the North of England; and as they passed through a village, consisting of a few scattered houses, David Sands told his fellow travellers, that it was impressed upon his mind, to remain in that village to keep a meeting. His companions remonstrated with him, and endeavoured to point out the impracticability of it; and, in order to prevail upon him to relinquish his design, they informed him, that the people were much engaged with the harvest, in consequence of which, the meeting, if held, must be late, and few or none would attend. But D. S. being well acquainted with the operations of the spirit of God upon the mind, and firm to what he conceived was his duty, was unmoved by the arguments advanced; he therefore, replied, "However late the meeting may be, or however few may attend, I cannot be free in my mind, to pass through this village without calling the people together." On his companions observing his firmness, they yielded, and directed their course towards a small house, and when they arrived at the door, they requested accommodations for themselves and their horses, informing the people, at the same time, that they would make them a suitable recompence for their trouble.

The request was immediately complied with, and the result of that compliance, was a kind reception, and an hospitable entertainment. When the people of the house were apprized of the design of their guests, they made every necessary preparation for the meeting, while D. S. and his companions, went and gave notice to the villagers respecting it; at the time appointed, several attended, and after some time had elapsed in silence, D. S. arose, and addressed the company; the manner in which he delivered his address, was sufficient to excite surprize and en, quiry in every breast. He informed his hearers, that it was impressed upon his mind, that a person among them had the instruments of death about him, and that the same person had prepared them for his own destruction. After thus pointing out the evil itself, he then exhorted the person to desist from his awful design, and warned him of the fatal consequences which would most assuredly follow such an attempt. He also informed the people, that, although he did not know the individual person, yet he was as much pursuaded of the truth of what he asserted, by his inward eye, or the eye of his mind, as though he had seen the instruments with the eyes of his body.

While he was thus enlarging upon the

deed, which he was pursuaded the person was going to perpetrate, an individual was observed to weep, and those around suspected him to be the person. D. S. concluded the whole with a suitable exhortation to the company at large, and left many under serious impressions. When the meeting was concluded, the person who was observed to weep, came up to David Sands, drew a brace of pistols from his pocket, told him that he had prepared them for his own destruction; and that he intended to put an end to his existence that same night; but on hearing there would be a meeting of the friends, he thought he would attend; and as he sup posed, there would be no one to speak, he judged he could sit and meditate without interruption, concerning the best means to accomplish his design. He also informed him, that as soon as the instruments of death were mentioned, he was struck with terror, and that it was certainly the hand of God for good to his soul. He affirmed too, that David Sands must have known his design by Divine revelation, as he had not communicated it to a single individual.

REFLECTIONS.

"I have the happiness to add, thatthehorrid deed of suicide was not only pre

vented, but the man was convinced of sin, became serious, and Satan was deprived of his expected prey. How can the sneering patrons of infidelity account for this? Both an extraordinary influence of the Holy Spirit, and a particular providence appear visible; the former, in the circumstance being revealed to David Sands; and the latter, in snatching the poor deluded man from endless ruin. And if God, in particular cases, reveals to his servants certain circumstances at this period, is it a thing incredible that holy men of God, spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost, in early times?"

The account of the closing part of Mr. Hume's life has long been very well known to the public; but we are inclined to print it once more, as exhibiting what would probably be admitted, and even cited by infidels, as an example of the noblest and most magnanimous deportment in the prospect of death, that it is possible for any of their class to maintain; an example

indeed, which very few of them ever in their serious moments, dare promise themselves to equal; though they may, like Mr. Richie, deem it in the highest degree enviable. It may be taken as quite their apostolic specimen, standing parallel in their history, to the instance of St. Paul, in the records of the Christians," have fought a good fight, &c. Mr. Hume had visited Bath, but was returning to Scotland, under an increase of his fatal malady. At this period, however, his cheerfulness never forsook him. He wrote letters to his literary friends, informing them of his intention to be at Edinburgh on a certain day, and inviting them to dine with him on the day following. It was a kind of farewell dinner; and among those who came to partake of the hospitality of the dying historian, were Lord Elibank, Dr. Smith, Dr. Blair, Professor Ferguson, and John Home,

At his return to Edinburgh, Mr. Hume, though extremely debilitated by disease, went abroad at times in a sedan chair, and called on his friends: but his ghastly looks indicated the rapid approach of death. He diverted himself with correcting his works for a new edition, with reading books of amusement, with the conversation of his friends, and sometimes in the evening with a party at his favorite