It will no more be their work. The number of the saved will be complete without you; the table will be full. Ministers will bear witness against you in that day.

Even devils will cast you off. As long as you remain on earth, the devil keeps you by his side; he flatters you, and gives you many tokens of his friendship and esteem; but soon he will cast you off. You will be no longer pleasant -o him; you will be a part of his torment; and he will hate you and torment you, because you leceived him and he deceived you.

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THEMSELVES.

It is said, they shall wish to die, and shall ot be able. "They shall seek death, and leath shall flee from them." I believe that ome suicides experience the beginnings of hell. I believe Judas did; he could not bear himself, and he tried to cast himself away. This will be the feeling of lost souls. They will not be able to bear the sight of themselves; hey will be weary of existence; they will wish they had never been. At present, unconverted men are often very self-complacent. They love o employ their faculties; the wheels of their life o smoothly; their affections are pleasant. Menory has many pleasant green spots to look back upon. How different when the day of grace is lone! The understanding will be clear and Full to apprehend the real nature of your misery. Your mind will then see the holiness of Godisalmightiness-bis majesty. You will see your >wn condemned condition, and the depth of your ell. The will in you will be all contrary to od's will, even though you see it add to your hell; yet you will hate all that is God's law, and love all that God hates. Your conscience s God's vicegerent in the soul. It will accuse vou of all your sins. It will set them in order, and condemn you. Your affections will still Love your kindred. "I have five brethren," you will say. Earthly fathers who are evil know how to give good gifts to their children. Even in hell you will love your own kindred; but th! what misery it will cost you, when you hear them sentenced along with you. Your memory will be very clear. You will remember all your misspent Sabbaths--your sermons | heard-your place in the house of God-your minister's face and voice-the bell-though millions of ages after this, you will remember these, as if yesterday. O how you will wish you had never been! How you will wish to tear out your memory, or these tender affections, or your accusing conscience! You will

Now he strives, but he will not always strive with you. Soon, soon he will leave you. O do not despise the word of ministers and godly friends! Now they plead with you, weep for you, pray for you. Soon, soon, they will be silent as the grave. O do not be proud or selfadmiring! Soon you will loathe the very sight of yourself, and wish you had never been.

If you would avoid so terrible a doom, flee to Christ-flee to Christ NOW!

DAVID ROUGE.

AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE

BY REV. G. DE FELICE OF BOLBEC, FRANCE,

DAVID ROUGE was a journeyman of Plainchamp, a small village in the canton of Vaud, Switzerland. God had given him health, but he gave himself up to intemperance, uttered the most shocking blasphemies, and often fell into the most violent paroxysms of rage.

One day, having laboured long in the water, near the torrent of Vevay, he was seized with violent rheumatism. The disease made rapid progress. His body was swollen in a frightful manner; and soon after he was struck with a general paralysis, and became so emaciated as to resemble a living skeleton. The unhappy man could not move one of his limbs, but lay with his arms extended as if upon a cross, and suffered the most excruciating pains.

This was his condition for two years. He murmured, he cried out, he blasphemed, he was transported with rage. Did not God know that he needed his limbs to labour and support his family? What had he done to be chastised in this manner? Were not his suffer

ings more than he could endure? Sometimes he gave kill me! life is hateful to me!" He cursed the day himself up to despair. "Death!" he cried, "Death, of his birth, and attempted to kill himself; but as he could scarcely move it was wholly beyond his power. His friends tried to console him, but in vain. His wife wished sometimes to read to him passages from the Bible, but he would not listen to her. avails the Bible?" said he;" will the Bible heal me? It is health I want, not the Bible."

"What

At length a pious lady, who came to Vevay to spend Saturday and the Sabbath of each week, heard of his situation and visited him.

"Ah! I wish I could tell you," said David after

wards, "the good which her visit did me. There was something in her manner that consoled me, without my knowing how. She offered to read to me from the Bible, where alone she said I could find consolation. I could not refuse, and from that hour that dear, dear lady, forgetting that she had come here to breathe the fresh air, passed at my bedside nearly the whole of the time she was in the village. She read the Scriptures to me, choosing the portions which she thought suited me best, then explaining what she read, often praying with me, and begging the Lord to instruct and comfort me."

He now began to see his sins, and to feel that he nust sink under the weight of them for ever. He was pointed to the promises of the gospel.

"But are these addressed to me ?" cried David.

Yes, they are addressed to you," replied his pious riends," Christ says to all, 'Come unto me all ye that abour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'" "But I have despised the Saviour to this day; I have openly offended him from my youth," continued David," so that I dare not now go to him."

"Fear not," replied his friends, "Christ is ready o receive all who come to him. He has said in his word, I am not come to call the righteous, but siners to repentance.""

This was a ray of life for the paralytic. "Now," ried he with joy," I understand the design of Jesus Christ's coming upon earth. Yes, now I see that he can save the chief of sinners.' He has said it, and he is able to accomplish it."

He cast his soul on Christ, to be washed and purified through his atoning blood. His faith in Christ brought peace to his mind, and peace of mind gave him patience to bear his sufferings. His wife no longer viewed him as the same person; she was astonished to see how this man, before so impatient, so irritable, had become in a short time so mild and so resigned to the will of God. Oh, what a precious treasure to know Christ and to believe in him! Then all is changed in our heart; what appeared to us an evil we regard as a good; afflictions which caused us to murmur excite us to bless the Lord; and the sick man on a bed of suffering is more happy when he has chosen Christ for his portion, than are kings on their thrones.

David now became an object of deep interest to all who had the opportunity to visit him. It was, indeed, instructive to find in a small, obscure, damp chamber, confined for ten years upon a bed, where through a small window he merely got a glimpse of the sky and of an old tree that shaded his room, a man not only submissive to the will of his Creator, but contented with his lot, and who testified, both by the expression of his countenance and by his discourse, that his soul possessed true happiness. It was delightful and affecting to see the open and much worn Bible lying upon the table, as if to invite some friend of his soul to read to him; and to hear from a body, wasted to a skeleton and exhibiting the livid aspect of death, a voice blessing God, and saying with David, "It is good for me that I have been afflicted." It was impossible, on seeing this contentment in a situation Apparently so wretched, not to recognise the power |

of faith, the truth of the promises of God, and the reality of the agency of the Holy Spirit in the heart of him who believes and prays. The sight of this poor paralytic extolling the mercy of God was so powerful on the heart, that several who came to see him were awakened from their indifference and hopefully converted to God.

"Do not deceive yourselves," he would say to them. "Take care; do not live as I have done, who made light for forty years of eternal punishment, not reflecting that because it is eternal we should use all our effort to escape it. Believe me, what I say can be despised by none but the thoughtless or profligate. Hear, though the warning comes from so vile a creature as myself, Flee from the wrath to come!' But this you can never do in your own strength. Jesus Christ must pardon your sins, and keep you to the end. Trust in him and you shall find mercy. He has said, 'Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.' Do not put off to another day the things which concern your peace."

The report of the paralytic soon spread into all the surrounding region. Every one admired the wisdom and goodness of God, who could glorify his name by the mouth of a man so poor and wretched in the eyes of the world. From all parts people came to see him, to hear him, and profit by his instructive exhortations. Pastors of churches went to learn the power of the gospel from this humble paralytic, for' they thought with reason that all their studies and all their learning were not worth the simple, unaffected; faith of David Rouge; they came to him that the pride of human reason might be humbled, and they returned strengthened, rejoicing and blessing God.

David Rouge lived eight years after his conversion, to be a living witness of the effects of Christian faith. He experienced much uneasiness and pain in his whole body, particularly his legs and arms. It was often necessary, in order to give him ease, to rub them till the skin was blistered; he had also on his back and feet great sores, which gave him much pain. He rarely slept more than fifteen minutes at once, and to a friend who spoke of his long and tedious nights he said, " God is with me; when I think on him, and on the mercies he has shown me, and reflect on all his promises, I am not tired." He longed, indeed, to depart and be with Christ, but he committed himself to his disposal, and could say with the apostle, "I have learned in whatsoever state I am therewith to be content."

At length the time of his deliverance arrived; he felt symptoms which he had not felt before; and about fifteen days previous to his death said to his wife, "Now I believe, thanks to God, my hour is come. Behold the moment I have so long expected." During these days he suffered much, but enjoyed peace of mind. The day before his departure he exhorted his youngest son, who was attending him, "to enter into the strait and narrow way that leads to eternal life." Only a moment before he died he had a short delirium, and even then holy thoughts occupied his mind; all at once he intimated to his wife that he was about to depart, and said to his son, "Hear me, we all go to God by faith."

Thus did David Rouge give up his last breath, and entered into rest, after ten years of sickness and sufferings. Ten years of pain! a long period; but oh, how short compared with eternity, on which he has now entered, and where he will sing the song of redeeming love for ever! Let no one murmur against God in suffering, which may be sent in great mercy; and let no one postpone repentance and faith in Christ till the day of sickness and death, lest he thus resist and grieve the Holy Spirit, and the sorrows of a death-bed be exchanged but for the deeper sorrows of eternal despair.

INSTABILITY IN RELIGION.

(From the Family Book.)

"BEWARE of itching ears," was a caution frequently given by our venerable friends, especially to young and ardent professors of religion.

About two miles from our village, a minister preached who was famous for saying wonderful, new, and startling things, such as proved very attractive to those who had a smattering of religion, but who were but scantily and superficially instructed in its general scope and bearings, and thus were ready to be carried about with every wind of doctrine. This minister was famous for crying down all the neighbouring ministers as dry, dark, cold, and legal. He dwelt much on those matters about which the Bible says but little; laid down his assertions with great positiveness; and regarded all who questioned them as opposers of the truth. He was much more concerned to bring people up to a set round of expressions, or to high-flown notions and impressions of personal revelations and assurances, than to lead them to examine the scriptures humbly and impartially; and as new-born babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that they might grow thereby. This person made a great noise for a time, and had many hearers and many followers. Some, previously altogether unacquainted with the gospel, were drawn together by curiosity to hear some new thing. Of these, some went away to ridicule sacred things which had been set before them, clothed in rash and coarse expressions; others took up a hasty profession of a cheap religion, which required little more than the adopting a few set phrases, eagerly following their leader through thick and thin, and bitterly denouncing all who followed not with them. There were others who had begun to run well, but who, on listening to the instruction that causeth to err, were soon transformed from humble, modest learners, to self-conceited and censorious disputants, and such as caused their best friends to weep and to stand in doubt and dread of them.

Very few there were who had resisted-still fewer who had not been tried with the bait-" Do go and hear him, if it is only for once. You never heard such a preacher in your life. How can you know what it is, if you have never heard him?"

Among others, I was pressed by two young friends to go and hear this "new light," as he was called. One of these young friends had frequently been, and was wrapped up in her new teacher, and spoke with contempt of those to whom she had formerly

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listened with reverence, delight, and profit. The other young person had been once; she scarcely knew what to think; from some things she had heard her mind revolted; but he said many things that were very good. Her companion observed, that it would be uncandid to condemn for one hearing, or for a few expressions that she might not approve or understand. She ought to go again, and then she would be better able to judge for herself. Thus she was induced to go again and again; every time her mind becoming increasingly unsettled, and unable to profit by the more sober ministrations of her own pastor. She could no longer find spiritual enjoyment in reading the Bible, because, by the new friends with whom she had associated herself, she was taught to read it for other objects than those for which it was given. She did not read that she might be made wise unto salvation, and use it as a light to mark the daily path of duty, but that she might learn to speculate and dispute, and support a certain set of opinions by a few detached passages of scripture, without regard to the general bearing and practical tendency of the whole. I knew these persons many years, and I lived to see the former altogether abandon her religious profession and attendance on the means of grace. I have heard that she could even utter scoffs at religion; but I cannot bear to admit the thought. The latter was, I believe, a really conscientious woman; but I question if she ever after that period knew much real enjoyment of religion. She was like a bird that had wandered from its nest, and had forsaken her own satisfaction and comfort. She looked shy at her minister, and fancied that he looked shy upon her, or that his ordinary admonitions and cautions were i atended as public reproofs of her. Then she would absent herself awhile, and try some other place of worship; or come only occasionally when a stranger preached. By and by she would be convinced that the fault was in herself. Then her mind would be harassed and distressed with apprehensions that she had never known the grace of God in truth. Her own course afforded her no satisfaction. She had too real and deep a concern about her soul to be satisfied with the bold assurance and enthusiastic impressions of which some of her acquaintance boasted, and on which they were content to risk their eternal all; yet she could rarely divest herself of all other associations, and venture simply as a poor perishing sinner on the mercy of God in Jesus Christ. To the end of her days she was tossed about with winds of doctrine and changeableness of frames. We hope she was saved, though it was "so as by fire" or shipwreck. She certainly did not enjoy that abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, which is generally reserved as the especial privilege of those who have held fast the profession of their faith without wavering, and whose religion has been more eminently that of the heart and life, than that of the head and tongue.

For myself I am thankful to say, that on the occasion to which I have referred, I was thrown into the way of good friends, and was induced to ask their judicious advice, and to abide by it.

It is folly to follow preachers for the sake of merely hearing something new, and with an evident danger of hearing something questionable; and even where the change is merely from one sound preacher to another, the love of novelty is in itself hazardous, and should be guarded against.

Every prudent Christian will wish to have a home; a society on which he has established claims, and to which he is responsible; in which he has obligations to sustain, and duties to perform. This need not be his prison, yet he will seldom feel inclined to wander from it; while cherishing every feeling of good-will towards other denominations, and other congregations, he will habitually be found at home. Though he may sometimes miss an occasional excitement, such an individual will generally be found the most steadily growing, established, fruitful Christian. As as bird that wanders from his nest, so is a man hat wanders from his place;" but "those that be planted in the house of the Lord, shall flourish in the courts of our God."

FAMILY SEPARATIONS.

DH, how soon must the most happy and united family be separated! They who were fondled in the same arms, who played beneath the same green cree, who encircled a father's fireside in the cheerful sports of childhood, must soon be scattered. Their omes far distant, a new world of cares will grow up around them, till the scenes of their early years will only remain in their minds as the indistinct impressions of a dream. And where will be their graves? A poet has endeavoured to follow, in imaination, the wanderings of a family, and in pathetic strains has sung, "The graves of a household." But upon such a subject as this there is no pathos like the truth. Follow out the history of any family of united and affectionate children; what a sad breach does the lapse of twenty years make in their numbers and their happiness! Some are mouldering in the grave. One has perhaps gone amid darkness, and storms, and howling tempests, to the depths of the ocean; another is perhaps far separated from his early friends, and struggling with adversity. Another, who was a playful and light-hearted girl-the life of a domestic circle, is now the feeble mother of a numerous family: her constitution is broken by watching and care; her pale countenance and slender form proclaim to all, that her sands of life have nearly run. The little boy, who was so full of vivacity, and who repaid a mother's love by so much affection, is now perhaps a victim to vice. You see him, with bloated countenance and palsied limbs, tottering along, a curse to mankind, and a disgrace to his friends. It is difficult to trace out the history of any family, without meeting with much to produce emotions of pain. And when the family scene is closed, and the last lingerer drops in death, how widely scattered lie their graves!

"They grew in beauty, side by side,
They fill'd one house with glee-
Their graves are sever d far and wide,
By mount, and stream, and sea.
And parted thus, they rest who play'd
Beneath the same green tree;
Whose voices mingled as they pray'd
Around one parent knee"

Where is the reflecting mind that is not often saddened by these thoughts? for, though this be poetry, it is not fiction; it is real life. And oh! where can we look for any thing substantial for the

soul to rest upon, if we have not heaven in anticipation? Then shall these graves soon give up their dead: however widely separated may lie the bodies of the once united family, they all shall hear the sound of the trump, and shall come forth; they shall meet again; they shall have a new home, and be united by more ardent ties of love, and by a bond that shall be ever enduring. Is there not something refreshing to a soul in the views and the consolations of religion? Is it not madness for any family to deprive themselves of such inestimable privileges-of such invaluable blessings? And yet how many a family will turn from these true sources of comfort, and seek joy where substantial joy never can be found. They leave home-that name of countless and the vain, they endeavour to satisfy the desires of charins-and in the halls of gaiety, with the frivolous an immortal mind. But, how vain! The immortal spirit cannot be thus satisfied. The hall may resound with gaiety, and bright lights may flash on brighter countenances: but joy forsakes these noisy haunts, and even the pleasurable excitement which here and there plays upon the heart, is as transient as the scene itself. Go into that forsaken hall as the morning sun arises. The revelry of the night is closed. All those fair forms have vanished as the music has gone: the half burnt candles are extinguished; and here and there a glove or a handkerchief reminds one of the gaudy show which but a few hours before was there exhibited. But how cold, and desolate, and cheerless does the apartment now appear! It is but a fit emblem of the cheerlessness and desolation which reigns in the hearts of those Late who have been mingling in its giddy mazes. in the morning they rise, languid and dejected, from pillows on which they have found no repose. Listlessly they wear away the day's weary hours; and it is not till another morning comes, that they recover from the consequences of a few hours' excess. How different the joy of that family, who, at the close of an evening of serene enjoyment, unite their hearts in social prayer! As they bow around the domestic altar, and commend themselves to the Lord, do they not feel a degree of peace which cannot be found in the thronged halls of mirth? And as they return to their pillows with a consciousness of a well-spent day, can they envy those whose bosoms are agitated with the passions which are invariably excited in the bustling crowds of pleasure?

It is in the peaceful and prayerful home that the purest joys on earth are found; it is in the heart animated with the love of God, in which the spirit of happiness loves to find her dwelling-place. Elsewhere you may find her semblance, but not her reality.-Jacob Abbott.

A lady, who was the common friend of Mrs Pay son and the lawyer's wife, was sojourning in the family of the latter. After the females of the respective families had interchanged several "calls," Mrs - was desirous of receiving a formal visit from Mrs Payson; but to effect this, Dr Payson must also be invited, and how to prevail with her husband to tender an invitation, was the great difficulty. He had been accustomed to associate experimental religion with meanness, and, of course, felt or affected