already, that, though I am called by a new name, I am to expect the old year's treatment. TO-MORROW. Nay, not so churlish, neighbour; for though it is winter, you should not storm; but rather give a little indulgence to this cold season, that people may make merry with their friends. Why shall not I, To-morrow, improve the commencement of the year as well as you, TO-DAY. Because you are a base deserter, always enlisting yourself in the service of mortals, and taking the, bounty; bui when called upon to fight their battles, you are not to be found; so that millions have forever lost To-day by trusting to TO-MORROW. Well, if I must go to confession on New Year's Day, I own that I have played silly mortals many a ruinous trick: but, as they themselves say, When twice deceived by the same person, in the same way, it is once their own fault. I have been clear of the fault for many a day and they must take the blame to themselves, as well as the misery and loss. Nor do I deny to you, under the rose, that they deserve to be cheated by me, for all the cheats they have put upon you. I am indeed not made of such materials as you are, to stand as a lacquey, waiting the convenience of those who think you were only made to be despised and put off.

TO-DAY. Since you are come to honest confession, and have thrown off the mask on New Year's Day (which, indeed, I have seen you do before; so that they have had a glimpse of your true character, who have been foolish enough to trust you again) I will be frank with you; and tell you, what it seems of very little use to tell those who call themselves my masters, that were I not commissioned from the Sovereign, I would not wait on these triflers another day. Every morning, as I receive my orders from the Author of Time, to offer my services once more to those who have slighted me so long, I burst forth into admiration of his clemency and patience: Day unto day uttereth speech;' and often the drops of grief which I shed over the stupid ingratitude and desperate delays of men, cover the whole face of the earth, while every leaf glitters with my tears, reflecting the rays of the rising sun.

TO-MORROW. But who should have thought that you would have been ordered to wait on them the 1st of January, 1811; for since the last time they received such a solemn warning as you are now called to give, they have suffered me to delude them 365 times; and have as many times been mocking at their King, laughing at your tears, and contriving as many ways to elude you, as some of them do to escape the bailiff. Yet, infatuated mortals! they are only putting the cheat upon their own souls! I have, however,

taken revenge for you; for while I have been dancing be fore them, as a Jack o' Lantern, receding as they advanced, I have led millions of them into the bog, where they are for ever sinking, and can find no bottom. TO-DAY. Cease your boasts, murderer of men; for though they have deserved their perdition, yet if a wise man wou.d not make a sport of dashing to pieces a number of curious' natches, how much less can the wise or good sport with the destruction of those wondrous productions of the Creator's power, for whom time-pieces and Time itself was made! Then, to think that they whom you delude to go on till they perish in their sin, under pretence of fleeing from them to-morrow, is enough to make one's heart bleed. This, however, I own, that when the Lord of Time and Eternity gives the command, I shall readily set my right foot upon the sea, and my left upon the earth, and lift my hand, and swear by Him that liveth for ever, that Time with them shall be no longer.'

TO-MORROW. Ah! then they who laughed you away before, will, from excess of terror, be unable to avail themselves of your last aids; and, cursed with their own delusions, will call on me to help them, crying out, To-morrow! O spare me till to morrow! Then I will repent of murdered time, murdered opportunities, a murdered soul, and a murdered Saviour.' Thus their deafening cries will still drown the voice that says,

TO-DAY, if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts.' TO-MORROW. But if the deluded multitude are my admirers,

are there not some few who have found me out, gone over to you, and adopted the maxim, 'They who would enjoy for ever, must improve TO-DAY. Ah! I see you are yet, with all your pretence of frank confession, playing the part so natural to you; for you know, that even those who have, in the centre of their souls, heard me say, 'To-day, if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts,' are yet obliging me to say continually, But I have somewhat against thee;' for they have been so long among your followers, that they have contracted an inveterate habit, of which I cannot easily cure them. I am perpetually vexed to find those who have been forgiven, and in some measure recovered from the crime of despising me, yet saying, 'I hope I shali walk more closely with God to-morrow.' So this is an excuse for not aking me by the hand, and walking with God to-day. Another hopes he shall spend more time in his closet tomorrow; which is his apology for almost neglecting secret prayer to-day. A third intends to be zealous and active in doing good to-morrow; which is to be his excuse for this day's indolence and selfishness. But once more I ask them, Has

not To-morrow been deceiving you all last year? Do not as many excuses for living at a distance come with to-morrow, as can be invented to-day? Have you not thus lost the whole of your To-days, with the pleasure and improvement of living near to God, and pro.noting his glory? Have you not, by this confidence in To-morrow, lost many, many opportunities of usefulness, which she will never bring back to you again? While you have thus been intending to seek more earnestly your brother's welfare, the Julge has said to him, This night thy soul shall be required of thee! How long, then, will it be ere you say Farewell, To-morrow! My maxim is, Vive hodie, carpe diem.'

Romsey.

J. B.

Sir,

AN ORIGINAL LETTER.

To the Editor.

The following short Letter from the late Rev. David Jones, of Langan, to the Countess of Huntingdon, it is presumed, will not be unacceptable to your Readers. Those who knew him, will easily recognize their old friend; and to such as were unacquainted with him, it may give as good an idea of the man and his manner as might be conveyed in so few lines. A FRIEND.

To the Countess of Huntingdon.

My dear and truly honoured Lady, July 23, 1782. THANKS to your Ladyship for your kind favour, which I received by yesterday's post. Don't be cast down: the ark in which you are will never give you up to the waves; ride on, therefore, without fear: though the billows may rage and foam, you will not be disembarked till you are brought safe to your desired port. If you think in earnest that you will sink, I had rather go to the bottom with you than swim with your enemies this is the very truth. But if sink we must, Heaven shall hear our hosannahs (and perhaps hallelujahs too) from the bottoms of the mountains, and out of the belly of hell. Salvation shall be our song, and heaven shall be our rest for ever.

Your Ladyship may expect to see such a poor creature as I am, in a few weeks, at the College. My friend promises to meet me there, I must stay a few Sundays at home first; then I will try to give your chapel a Sunday-morning sermon; and, in the afternoon, somewhere below Talgarth. My wite joins me in love and duty to your Ladyship and Lady Aune. Ever, ever yours,

D. JONES.

ON THE NEW YEAR.

This year thou shalt die. Jer. xxviii. 16.

THAT Death is uncertain, only in the time of its arrival, is a truth long since uncontroverted, and which the experience of mankind is daily confirming. It was said by the prophet Jeremiah, to one whose days were appointed, and the number of his months, as in the motto,-This year thou shalt die.'

To whom, on the present commencement of a new year, this is applicable, the great Disposer of life and death alone can

tell.

To many this is certain :

The reverse is sure to none.

But since we know it must be so to many, and, for aught we know, it may be to us, it becomes us individually to take it into serious consideration. Should it be me, how am I prepared for so great a change? Have I improved the past? Do I prize the present, and only use it for the glory of God and my soul's eternal interest? To what purpose am I a monument of sparing mercy? Since last the revolving seasons brought the period to which I am again arrived, the Spring has smiled, the Summer has glowed, Autumn has presented the golden harvest and the purple vintage. Nature then, it seems, has not been inactive. She has amply answered the end of her institution, and given seed to the sower, and bread to the eater; — but has my heart and conduct displayed the blossoms of grace, the mature powers of fervent zeal, and the peaceable fruits of righteousness? Has it not rather resembled the barren aspect of Winter, cheerless and unprofit able, frozen by the chill blasts of indifference, and resembling it in all but the hidden energy of vegetation? To the most active of the people of God this will, in some measure, apply; for who among professing Christians has lived up to the profession which he makes? Again; when we consider the thousands of instances, seen and unseen, in which we have been preserved, when there was but a step between us and death, we can but admire the grace which has excepted us from the number of those who have fallen by various means of accident or disease.

'Death's thousand doors (as Dr. Young expresses it) stand open, and we are hourly pressing forward, and often, as it were, just at the entrance;' but Mercy draws us back, or closes the dark gate. There the King of Terrors holds his gloomy court, and grins horribly at the crowds of victims who hourly swell the number of his sacrifices; but there is a door, by which the righteous are admitted, where half his terrors are not seen, where Jesus guards the passage to eternal bliss.

Here then the language of inquiry again recurs:- Am I of that number? Am I washed in the blood of the Lamb? Has the Son made me free? Then am I free indeed. Do I find the influence of divine grace resisting the inward corruptions of my nature? If so, give God the praise, the work is his, and he will crown it with everlasting glory.

O Christian, if the motto be indeed applicable, what a scene of triumph is before you! This year thou shalt indeed overcome all thine enemies; this year thou shalt escape from all the evils of life; this year thou shalt bid adieu to pain, to grief, to sin ;-this year thou shalt see the King in his beauty; this year thou shalt be satisfied with his likeness, and see him as he is; - this year thou shalt begin the song of the redeemed, and comrience the eternal hallelujah, — ‹ For this year thou shalt die!'

To you, unconverted and unawakened sinners, what shall I say? Your prospects are truly awful. Death is at hand; judgment must follow. Eternity is before you, and you are unprepared for all. Ere another year, what thousands must be added to the inhabitants of the shades of death! and you may be of the number. How shall you escape? · for the wrath of God is revealed from Heaven against you,- his law condemns you, his justice pursues you, his terrors will shortly surprize you; but his gospel offers you peace and salvation. See, the banner of the Cross is unfurled! Fly! take shelter under it! You have not a moment to lose; for you know not but this year thou shalt die!' MARIA.

A CONCISE VIEW OF

THE PRESENT STATE OF EVANGELICAL RELIGION THROUGHOUT THE WORLD.

NO. V.

[Continued from p. 471.]

ASIA.

In a religious view, this most populous region of the world affords a scene truly afflictive. Darkness, as the shadow of death, is spread over all the nations of the east. The empire of China alone is said to contain more than three hundred and thirty millions of immortal souls; and not a beam of gospel light and truth hath yet arisen upon them! The popula tion of the whole continent is supposed to exceed two thousand millions, and involved almost in the same spiritual blindness and ignorance.

This vast quarter of the globe is occupied by three great bodies of men; consisting of Pagan Idolaters, Mahometabs,