impressed her, until at length she believes with her heart, and makes confession with her mouth to salvation.

Thus this boy seems to have been made instrumental in communicating peace both to his parent and his uncle.

The friends with whom I reside have been tortured by sickness of body and distress of mind: they are much changed since last I saw them. They have only two sons, one of whom is enclosed within the walls of an English prison. Mrs. G. has been dangerously ill, and she was visited during her confinement by many who hoped to seduce her to a renunciation of her principles-" No, indeed," said the good lady, "surely I cannot afford to part with them now; they are now more precious to me than words can express. No, no, except you can point me out a better hope than Christ Jesus my Lord, I must be suffered to leave this wilderness leaning upon the beloved." I hoped, said the afflicted lady, to have visited those dear Christians who worship God in spirit, and have no confidence in the flesh, but it is now reduced to a certainty I shall not see them this side heaven. Mr. G. too is ill; I am persuaded he will never recover that soundness of body and mind which he once possessed. But there is one thing which I am persuaded he will never forget he will always remember that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. The honest man dwells on the emphatic name of his Redeemer with never ceasing delight. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. G. ever expect to be restored to health again, but they are very indifferent about it; their believing hearts are steadfast, trusting in the Lord, and so fully persuaded are they of the truth of the divine word that bringeth unto all men salvation, that they rather long to be dissolved, and to be with Christ.

Many are the scenes I witness as I pass along which lacerate my bosom; but a view of the Christian patiently waiting for the complete salvation of his God always renders me comparatively happy; and I shall be happy, not only comparatively, but altogether happy. We shall all be happy, we were made for happiness: "God had not created but to bless." Happiness, however, is not designed for us in the present state; in the world we are taught to expect tribulation. But in the Saviour, blessed be his balmy name, in the Redeemer, we shall, yes, we shall have peace.

But we are exempted from much of the tribulation with which this world abounds. Thanks be to the Father of mercies for his protecting goodness. For my own part, I seriously declare, that when

ever I am called to reflect upon this subject, I am confounded at my own ingratitude. Frequently am I guilty of murmuring and despondence, but never with impunity. Truth severely questions, "Of what do you complain? What do you want, or in what particular are you afflicted? Have you not reason to believe your Divine Master perfect in wisdom, and perfect in goodness? Would you not, if left to yourself, be subjected to real and permanent affliction? Whenever you are miserable are you not your own tormentor? When you are permitted to have your own way, what is the result? do you succeed to your wish? Is it not more for your happiness that God should mark your way, than if he left it to your self? Where is the individual more blessed? Can any felicity, in the present state, surpass what you derive from beholding the light of life, through your instrumentality, breaking the clouds of thick darkness, and with healing in its wings, notwithstanding the machinations of the grand adversary, making its way into the benighted mind?

And with regard to your multiplied enemies, if you revert to their characters and the language they adopt, can any consideration be more flattering, than that such were the men and the same their reproaches, who were early embodied to oppose the first great promulgators of divine truth? But what are your sufferings from malicious calumniators? They talk of you, but do they break your rest? You cannot affirm that they do. Have they deprived you of any friend whom you ought to regret? They certainly have not. Have they inflicted upon you corporeal punishment? Surely not. Have they done you any real injury of any sort? I cannot say they have. Well then you have in fact nothing to complain of, and if you would not appear totally unworthy the many and valuable friends by whose uniform kindness you are distinguished; if you would not appear utterly unworthy the astonishing goodness of your God, cultivate, I charge you, an equal and tranquil disposition of soul, and do not surrender your peace to every petty attack. Let resignation to heaven's high will, become supreme in your bosom, and see that your walk be at all times worthy a disciple of the meek, the lowly, the suffering Redeemer."

I dined yesterday with a respectable and very dear friend, who gave me an opportunity of surveying the burial place of the royal family of the Indian Kings. None but royal dust can be deposited in this burial ground. There are many grave stones, which bear

record of the wonderful deeds performed by the individuals reposing beneath. Every stone informs the reader, that the royal Incas are buried there, and that they are a family as ancient as the hills that surround them.

Ye proud European princes, what can ye say more? Which of you can say as much? The place these Indians have chosen for the resting place of their chiefs is truly romantic, and exhibits as much of the sublime and beautiful as any spot they could have procured. One of the royal family was deposited here during the past week: the surviving prince officiated as priest, and as the spot is on my friend's estate, just below his garden, he attended the funeral. When they had laid the body in the earth, and covered it very neatly with turf of the finest sort, the old king, turning to the survivors, pronounced in a solemn tone of voice, "Verily we must all go." Silence succeeded this declaration, and they stood for some time with folded arms, and eyes fixed on the earth, when, with solemn steps, pensive features, and measured movements, they slowly returned to their respective habitations.

O, for that splendid era, when God shall bring in the fulness of the Gentiles, with his ancient people, the Jews, that there may be no more sorrow!

I passed from the house of my friend, to church, where I preached to a very large congregation, upon Hosea xiii. 9. "O, Israel! thou hast destroyed thyself; but in me is thy help." Many of my friends are called to their everlasting rest since I was here before. We know we ought to bless the Lord always: yet in the departure of friends, it is hard to say, Thy will be done.

The religionists in this town, have made a discovery new to the professing Christians assembled here. In opposition to me, they de clare, that Christ Jesus tasted death for no man, and this doctrine they publicly proclaim, affirming positively, that his death was only designed to manifest the righteousness of God, that the merits of his life, sufferings and death belong to no individual of the human race, but are by him applied to all those on whom he chooseth to bestow these tokens of his special favour.

They have been asked, how the death of Christ manifested the righteousness of God, if he did not die for the sins of the world? Seeing he, himself, was holy, harmless and undefiled, if there were no union of the divine and human nature, no imputed transgression, how

did it manifest the righteousness of God, how did it comport with his justice, to punish a being, in every view innocent, in every possible view perfect?

These fabricators of new, or vampers of old systems, seem to imagine that the vast stock of merit which appertaineth to Christ Jesus is like that laid up in the church of Rome, to be disposed of, and applied to whoever may be the best purchasers. To what strange subterfuges do those fly who would avoid the doctrines of of the gospel! But so it is, and so it will be, until the mystery of iniquity shall be revealed.

This man, this Mr. J. P. has much of the pure religion of Jesus. You know him, my friend. Pure religion, and undefiled, saith God, is to visit the fatherless, and the widow. Many years since, this Mr. J. P. lost his sister's husband, who on his death bed said, “I shall leave a heavy charge upon you, Sir, my wife, my numerous, my helpless children."—" Make yourself easy, they are mine, I will protect them: I will take them to my house, to my arms, and do for them as well as I am able, as long as I live."-" Will you indeed?" said the dying man, the husband, the parent, “will you indeed? O! thanks be to God, thanks be to God!" and his soul leaping forth with joy he immediately gave up the ghost! and J. P. received the whole family and reared the orphans, as well as the father would have chosen to do, had his circumstances been ever so affluent. Another widowed sister, and her child, hath lived with him these six years, receiving from his hand the same beneficent kindness.

But J. P. assumes no merit from these deeds of worth. He says he is more blessed than they; yet has he a thousand times more merit, in consequence of this declaration, except, indeed, we consider the Creator as all in all. Did I not say right, is not this religion, what is called pure and undefiled before God and the Father? Would to heaven such religionists were multiplied among us; yet it is said this man, this J. P. has no religion; I grant he has no bigotry, no superstition, and it is well for the widow, and the orphan, that he hath not. But he is my friend, and my enemies of course cannot esteem him.

I have been uncommonly pleased this morning; a gentleman, a Mr. L. looked in upon me, seif introduced, and thus addressed me :

Mr. L. Your name is Murray, I presume? Pardon this abrupt intrusion.

Murray. Please to take a seat, Sir.

Mr. L. I have not many moments to tarry, Sir, and shall therefore immediately proceed to inforın you who, and what I am, and where I reside. My name is Francis L. I am a man, who for many years had suffered more than any mode of speech can express. Too surely I knew that I was born to die, and all behind the scenes, was, in my apprehension, comfortless despair. I lost not only my rest, but my health became the sacrifice, and although I sought diligently, peace, however, was beyond my reach.

I have not time to narrate to you, what methods I took in order to obtain in my individual self the character righteous, and with it that peace for which my soul panted, for I was convinced there was no peace to the wicked. But after labouring many years, it pleased God to bring me acquainted with the writings of Mr. James Relly, and as it is impossible to describe how much I suffered before, so it is impossible to say how great was my felicity on perusing the writings of this inspired penman, particularly his Union. M. Where did you procure it, Sir.

Mr. L. In Norwich. I read it again, and again, until my peace flowed as a river, and I found rest to my soul. I saw in whom I was complete, in whom I was saved with an everlasting salvation. I had enough. I only wanted to arrive at my heavenly home, to see the human family complete, as they are in Christ Jesus, their blameless, their exalted head.

I could not remain silent. I wanted every individual to see and feel the truth, as it was seen and felt by me. But unexpected difficulties arose; my friends, my kindred were frightened, they combined against me, and many who delighted in me while suffering the torment and misery, consequent upon darkness and unbelief, now that they beheld me rendered happy by the knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus, hated and despised me. I was in some sort forsaken by my connexions. The church with which I was in connexion began to deal with me, and threats of excommunication were fulminated against me. I assured them that I was prepared for excommunication from their synagogue, that neither their expulsion, nor their anathemas could break my peace, or diminish those joys with which no stranger could intermeddle. I united with them while in thick darkness, but now walking in the light, they could forge no more fetters for my soul.