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and retributive! As to see thee is perfect happiness, so to be seen of thee is true contentment and glory!

"And dost thou, O God, see what we give thee, and not see what we take away from thee? Are our offerings more noted than our sacrileges? Surely, thy mercy is not more quicksighted than thy justice. In both kinds our actions are viewed, our account is kept; and we are sure to receive rewards for what we have given, and, vengeance for what we have de faulted. With thine eye of knowledge thou seest all we do; but what we do well thou seest with thine eye of approba tion so didst thou now behold these pious and charitable ob lations. How well wert thou pleased with this variety! Thou sawest many rich men give much; and one poor widow give more than they in lesser room.

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"The Jews were now under the Roman pressure: they were all tributaries, yet many of them rich; and those rich men were liberal to the common chest. Hadst thou seen those rich men give little, we had heard of thy censure: thou expectest a proportion between the giver and the gift, — betwixt the gift and the receipt: when that fails, the blame is just. That nation (though otherwise faulty enough) was in this commend able. How bounteously open were their hands to the house of God! Time was when their liberality was fain to be restrained by proclamation; and now it needed no incitement,— the rich gave much, the poorest gave more. "He saw a poor widow casting in two mites." It was misery enough that she was a widow. The married woman is under the careful provision of an husband; if she spend, he earns. In that estate, four hands work for her; in her viduity but two. Poverty added to the sorrow of her widowhood. The loss of some husbands is sup. plied by a rich jointure; it is some allay to the grief that the hand is left full, though the bed be empty. This woman was not more desolate then needy: yet this poor widow gives. And what gives she? An offering like herself, — two mites; or, in our language, two half-farthing tokens. Alas, good wo man, who was poorer than thyself? Wherefore was that corban, but for the relief of such as thou? Who should receive, if such give? Thy mites were something to thee, nothing to the treasury. How ill is that gift bestowed, which disfurnisheth thee, and adds nothing to the common stock! Some thrifty neighbour might perhaps have suggested this probable discourgement. Jesus publishes and applauds her bounty: "He called his disciples, and said unto them, Verily, I say unto you, this woman hath cast in more then they all." Whilst the rich put in their offerings, I see no disciples called; it was enough that Christ noted their gifts alone: but when the widow comes with her two mites, now the domestics of Christ are summoned to assemble, and taught to admire this muni

ficence; a solemn preface makes way to her praise, and her mites are made more precious than the other's talents. "She gave more than they all." More, not only in respect of the mind of the giver, but of the proportion of the gift as hers. A mite to her was more then pounds to them! Pounds were little to them, two'mites were all to her. They gave out of their abundance; she out of her necessity. That which they gave left the heap less, yet an heap still; she gives all at once, and leaves herself nothing. So she gave, not more than any, but "more then they all." God doth not so much regard what is taken out as what is left. O Father of Mercies, thou lookest at once into the bottom of her heart and the bottom of her purse; and esteemest her gift according to both. As thou seest not as man, so thou valuest not as man. Man judgeth by the worth of the gift; thou judgest by the mind of the giver, and in proportion of the remainder. It were wide with us if thou shouldst go by quantities. Alas! what have we but mites, and those of thine own lending! It is the comfort of our meanness, that our affections are valued; and not our presents: neither hast thou said, God loves a liberal giver, but a cheerful. If I had more, O God, thou shouldest have it; had I less, thou wouldest not despise it, who" acceptest the gift according to that a man hath, and not according to that he hath not."

"Yea, Lord, what have I but two mites, a soul and a body! Mere mites! yea, not so much to thine infiniteness ! Oh, that I could perfectly offer them up unto thee, according to thine own right in them, and not according to mine! How graciously wouldest thou be sure to accept them! How happy shall I be in thine acceptation!"

A CHARACTER.

VERSATILIS, when he first felt the power of the gospel upon his heart, was an ornament to his profession, and a blessing to his religious connection,- simple, child-like, dependent, and zealous. Prepared by watchfulness and prayer, he would attend in season and out of season upon the teaching of his pastor, whose word he received as from the mouth of the Lord, and esteemed him very highly for his work's sake. Attentive to the various objects of the sermon, he would trea sure up the instructions given, whilst Christ became the grand object of his delight and confidence. Constrained by a Saviour's love to a holy, bumble, fruitful lite of obedience, the family, the closet, the temporal affairs of Versatilis all derived a lustre from his professiou. Deeply affected with the uncon

verted state of his neighbours, he would drop a tear, and watch a favoured moment to bring them under the sound of the word of life nor were his wishes altogether vain, for he saw the effects of the gospel upon many, in the surrender of their hearts to God. Tender, lest he should grieve the least whom he had guided, he watched the door of his lips, and kept himself from the paths of the destroyer. Concerned for his offspring, his prayers and example pointed them daily to the cross. Aware of the vigilance of the great adversary, and the envious eye of the world, he resisted the one, and walked carefully before the other. Affectionately attached to the instrument of his conversion, his constancy, kindness, prayfulness, and attention were all directed to secure his comfort aud strengthen his hands.

But, ah! a deceived heart has turned him aside! Is there not a lie in his right hand? Unwatchfulness and remissness in closet duties have opened the door to temptation; and Satan, transformed into an angel of light, has awfully entered. Frivolous and unguarded writings, light and vain professors, have stolen into the affections of Versatilis, who fancies himself in possession of new and extraordinary light. Delivered, as he supposes, from the obligation of the law, and alive in his boasted liberty, he flies from the reproofs of the faithful. His temper and walk appear the very reverse of what they were. Captious, high, and excessive in his notions, few ministers can now please him; nor indeed his once favourite pastor, but at certain times. He is more a judge of the word,

than a submissive learner. Uncertain in his attendance on the gospel preached, indifferent to seasons of retirement, unmindful of the souls committed to his care, less conscientious and scrupulous in his daily walk, fickle and inconstant in all his ways, the carnal world adinires, the church of God grieves, and Satan triumphs at the change. How is the mighty fallen! Versatilis, thou art unstable as water, and shalt not excel ! Warwick.

J. W.

A BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATION OF
THE PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE OF GOD.
[Extracted from Hayley's Life of Cowper.]

"WE are glad that you are safe at home again. Could we see at one glance of the eye what is passing every day upon all the roads in the kingdom; how many are terrified and hurt, how many plundered and abused, we should indeed find reason enough to be thankful for journies performed in safety, and for deliverance from dangers, we are not perhaps even permitted to

see. When in some of the high southern latitudes, and in a dark tempestuous night, a flash of lightning discovered to Captain Cook a vessel, which glanced along close by his side, and which but for the lightning, he must have run foul of, both the danger and the transient light that showed it, were undoubtedly designed to convey to him this wholesome instruction, That a particular Providence attended him, and that he was not only preserved from evils of which he had notice, but from many more of which he had no information, or even the least suspicion.' What unlikely contingencies may nevertheless take place! How improbable that two ships should dash against each other, in the midst of the vast Pacific Ocean, and that, steering contrary courses, from parts of the world so immensely distant from each other, they should yet move so exactly in a line as to clash, fill, and go to the bottom, in a sea where all the ships in the world might be so dispersed as that none should see another! Yet this must have happened but for the remarkable interference which he has recorded. The same Providence indeed might as easily have conducted them so wide of each other that they should never have met at all; but then this lesson would have been lost; at least, the heroic voyager would have encompassed the globe without having had occasion to relate an incident that so naturally suggests it."

THE DEATH OF THE CHRISTIAN.
(From the German of Lavater.)

DEATH suddenly presented himself before a Christian. "Welcome! thou messenger of immortality; thrice welcome!" was the salutation of the good man.

How is this,' said Death, -Son of Sin, dost thou not fear my approach?'

"No: he who is a Christian indeed, may view thee undismayed."

Canst thou behold me attended by sickness and disease,canst thou observe the cold sweat distilling from my wings,without shuddering?'

"Even so,” replied the believer in Jesus.

'And wherefore is it that thou tremblest not?'

"Because it is by them I am assured of thy speedy approach." And who art thou, O mortal! that my presence hath no power to terrify?'

"I am a Christian!" smiling with benignity on his stern

visitor.

Death then breathed upon him,-and in an instant they both disappeared. A grave had opened beneath their feet; and I 3 F

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could observe something lying therein. I wept. Suddenly the sound of celestial voices attracted my attention, and I looked towards Heaven. I saw the Christian in the clouds; his countenance was eradiated with the same smile as I had before observed upon it, and his hands were clasped together. Glit tering angels then approached him, shouting, and the Christian shone resplendent as themselves. Again I wept. I now looked into the grave, and at once perceived what it contained;-it was the Christian, having disrobed himself for his flight.

STATE OF SOCIETY IN HELL.

I HAVE often reflected upon the variety of metaphors used in the sacred Scriptures to characterize the certainty and duration of the punishment which the wicked may expect in a future world; and I have admired the powers of different preachers in placing these metaphors in such a striking point of view as to intimidate the profane and alarm the soul into seriousness and repentance: but there is one idea which I have never heard insisted upon so forcibly as I think it deserves, and that is, the Stute of Society in that world where Satan reigns. We naturally recoil from the contemplation of such a scene, but the Scripture is very full and plain upon the subject; its language is, "the abominable, and murtherers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars;" to which may be added, the fearful and unbelieving. These compose the Society, to the contemplation of which I wonld awaken the inattentive mind; and I would remark, that the fearful and unbelieving, however averse to oaths and murder, are here mingled together in one common mass. Are not then these fearful and unbelieving ones, those who dare not own our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ in the present evil world, altho' their convictions are frequent and alarming?

I wish some able pen would enlarge upon this idea. It is not the scandalously profane I would address; but those who, with many moral virtues, and much decency of character, continue enemies to vital religion, and who, priding themselves upon their delicacy of sentiment and purity of manners, yet scorn the holiness of the Gospel, and condemn the peculiar doctrines which it inculcates. We read of no middle region: Heaven or Hell are the only receptacles prepared for immortal minds; and the real Christian is so sensible of the purity alter which he aspires, that he believes a change of nature necessary before he could enjoy the exquisite holiness of the New Jerusa lem. Ere he could tune his golden harp, and join the celestial choir, he acknowledges he must be washed in the blood of the Lamb, and his "corruptible put on incorruption:" but the same,

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