petually pained by the scenes of wickedness and impiety which he every where beheld. While the possessions of the patriarch daily increased, and the blessing of God upon him made him rich, Lot was stripped in a moment of all his possessions, and himself taken captive. Delivered by the courage of Abraham, he again returned to the seat of wickedness; and, at its destruction, again lost all his property, and escaped only with his life. How often are men thus disappointed in their worldly expeetations; And how miserable are those who have no other ground of confidence!

It is an honourable trait in the character of Lot, that, instead of partaking in the sins of Sodom, he openly reproved them, and mourned for them. "He was vexed," says St. Peter," with the filthy conversation of the wicked: for that righteous man, dwelling among them, in seeing and hearing, vexed his righteous soul from day to day with their unlawful deeds.”

What a reproof does his conduct present to those who, when they are in the midst of profane scoffers, blush to profess their attachment to the Redeemer; to those, who, instead of faithfully reproving those vices that are sanctioned by custom, basely connive at them; to those who satisfy themselves by living as the world does, and quiet their conscience by the consideration that they go with the multitude. Had Lot thus acted, he would not have escaped the infection of guilt, and would have perished with the inhabitants of Sodom.

The iniquities of this and the neighbouring cities, were now full; and the patience and long-suffering of the Lord, which had so long been exercised towards them, were exhausted the ery of their sins had ascended to heaven and called for vengeance; the day of mercy was passed, and the divine indignation was just ready to burst on these devoted places. To save Lot and his family, the Lord miraculously interposed. The same angels who were the messengers of vengeance upon the guilty, warned him of the coming judgment, and urged him instantly to flee from it. He hastened to warn his sons-in-law of their danger. But hardened in guilt, they mocked him as a fool and a madman. Lamenting their obstinacy, weeping over their ruin, and at the inpen ling destruction of so many relatives and acquaint

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ance, Lot still lingers. The angels, by a gentle constraint, draw him from the city, and bid him, without casting a look behind him, to flee to the mountains. At his supplications, he is permitted to enter Zoar, a small neighbouring city; and its inhabitants, who would otherwise have been involved in the common ruin, are spared at his request. So true is it that "the effectual fervent prayer of the righteous availeth much." This deliverance of Lot is improved by Peter for the consolation of believers. "The Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptations." However perilous and afflietive your situation may be, cast yourself upon his care, rely on his providence, and you shall not be disappointed. He who missioned his angels to pluck Lot out of Sodom, shall send these same heavenly ministers to guard and defend you.

As soon as he was safely sheltered in Zoar, the work of desolation commenced. The inhabitants continued thoughtless and secure, deriding the vain fears and gloomy apprehensions of Lot. "They did eat, they drank, they bought, they sold, they planted, they builded. But the same day that Lot went out of Sodom, it rained fire and brimstone from heaven, and destroyed them all." Who will not tremble at beholding this catastrophe, and acknowledge that the Lord is indeed " a consuming fire?" Say not that we are uninterested in this event. The Redeemer himself presents it as an emblem of the carelessness and stupidity of sinners; and his holy apostle tells us, that they were "set forth as an example, sufering the vengeance of eternal fire.”

But though Lot was delivered from destruction, yet still dearly was he punished for that covetous spirit which had led him to Sodom. His possessions were lost; his family had yielded to the temptations around them, and became a source of anguish to him; his sousin-law and his wife had perished; and his daughters, who had been preserved for his sake, appear to have been little calculated to give comfort to his declining years. After remaining for some time in Zoar, terrified, perhaps, by the iniquity of the place, and fearing that it also would sink under the divine vengeance, he fed to the mountains, where, with his two daughters, he reside i in a cave. Here he fell into the most horrid and unnatu

ral sins. He who had stood firm against the seductions of Sodom, whose integrity had not been shaken by the examples of the sinners around him, now grossly falls, while in solitude, and in a cave of the mountains. So incapable are external circumstances of preserving us from guilt-so necessary is it at all times to watch over our deceitful hearts. He who had been so specially protected by God, forgets his obligations and vows, and outrages his Benefactor. Lord, what is man! How necessary is it "for him who standeth to take heed lest he fall!" How necessary for us, even if we have long and successfully resisted the seductions to guilt, still to distrust ourselves, and never to let down our watch.

After this period, we hear nothing more of Lot. The last event related of him is an awful bat upon his character; and if he were recovered to repentance, no doubt his soul was wrung with grief; and sorrowfully spending the rest of his days, he at last sunk into the tomb.

Happy will it be for us, if, learning wisdom from his conduct, and instructed by his falls, we be led by his history to live nearer to the Lord, to rely upon his strength, to take him as our portion, and to seek from him a heart detached from the world, and not inordinately fixed upon. earthly riches.

SELECT SENTENCES.

I Had rather be an open wicked man than a hypocrite; but I had rather be no man than either of them.

An indiscreet good action is little better than a discreet mischief. For in the latter the doer wrongs only the man who suffers by it, in the former, the wrong is done to goodness itself.

When the mouth prayeth, man heareth; when the heart, God heareth. It is impossible but a conceited man must be a fool. For that overweening opinion he hath of himself, excludes all facility of acquiring knowledge.

Go, now, ye vain and idle worldlings, and please yourselves in the large extent of your rich manors; or in the homage of those, whom baseness of mind hath made

slaves to your greatness; or in the price and fashions of your full wardrobe, or in the wanton varieties of your delicate gardens; or in your coffers, full of red and white earth; or if there be any other earthly thing more allur ing, more precious, enjoy it, possess it, and let it possess you :-Let me have only my peace, that peace which is the same, whether in hope or in glory, and let me never want it till I envy you.

As travellers in a foreign country make every sight a lesson, so ought we in this our pilgrimage. Thou seest the heavens rolling above thine head in a constant and unvaried motion; the stars, so overlooking one another that the greatest show little, the least greatest, all glorious; the air full of the misty rain, or the fleeces of snow, or driven forms of fiery exhalations; the sea, under one uniform face, full of strange and monstrous shapes beneath; the earth adorned with all its variety of plants and multitude of creatures, that fly above it, walk upon it, and live in it.-Thou idle truant! dost thou learn nothing of so many masters? Hast thou so long read these capital letters in God's great book, and eanst thou not yet spell one word of them? The brutes. see the same things with as clear, perhaps better eyes. If thine inward eyes see not their use, as well as thy bodily eyes their shape, I know not which is more rea sonable or less brutish..

As the bell was tolling its solemn monitions at bright noon-day, my feelings chimed in "with its deep-toned echoes, in the following reflections.

We cannot look upon the dying man with the same apathy of feeling with which we may regard other changes in the circumstances of individuals or nations.Events surprizing in their origin, and involving, it may be, the everlasting happiness or misery of a particular class of men, or the inhabitants of extensive countries, are observed with easy indifference, because we may

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providentially belong to other societies, or other sections of country which happen to be secure from their influ But death is surely not an event of this classwe do not regard the dying person as one who is unfortunately or unavoidably going down to the tomb, from which we feel sure of escaping. It cannot be-for in all his struggles between time and eternity we may see ourselves really expiring, before we feel death closing his iron gates upon us.--/ And while we look upon the lifeless dissolving form which we may have caressed and loved with our kindest affections, we may see ourselves · in the tomb while we are in firm possession of life.

Why is the grave, or why is the eternity beyond it, either the subject of dislike or of terror?

Life must be peculiarly desirable to that man whose wishes, whose hopes, whose eternity, are this side the tomb. Most surely such a man may think the world very comfortable for an everlasting dwelling-place. Its sinful enjoyments may delight his soul. His treasureshis happiness-the very soul of all his desires may be here. Such a man, if there is such a man in the world,and we believe there are many such, can think of the grave as his home, and eternity as his dwelling-place only with aversion and fearfulness. If he cannot banish the thoughts of dying, they are the demons which haunt his imagination and persecute his peace. In his fancy the world of spirits is not involved in profound gloom and uncertainty only, but he also feels all the disconsolateness of foresight.

But the very last moment must come, and what balm of consolation will then calm his afflicted spirit ?-and what constant friend will aid his exit to the world of shadows? Will the splendor which wealth has thrown around him? Will the praise and admiration which he has successfully courted Will the glory of knowledge, which now sheds its beamless rays on the night of the tomb? Will the hope that his memory will be cherished, and celebrated by all the world that his tomb, like Virgil's will be searched out by strangers, and approached with awe and sacred reverence as the tomb of the great and the happy? and especially that his friends will visit it often, and linger around it, to pour out their sorrows freely and sweetly there?