writing. To these answers corrections are given, remarks are made, and other questions are proposed, as occasion and circumstances require or suggest, in order to elucidate the passage, and enforce its practical tendency. Opportunity is also given to any of the Class to ask questions on any passage, about which they may have any difficulties in their own minds. The meetings are opened and closed with prayer, and an address is made to the youth from some part of the lesson.

It is now upwards of four months since the commencement of this exercise, which instead of losing, has been increasing in importance and interest in view of all concerned. A means of mutual instruction is thus afforded between the Pastor, and the tender, and most interesting part of his charge. Not only at the regular meetings of the Class, but in his pastoral visits, a most convenient opportunity is presented to feed the lambs of his flock; for the Bible lesson usually excites some questions, and affords a topic of conversation with the young.

But there are other facts connected with the Bible Class in this place, which ought not to be withheld from the public. God has most evidently owned and blessed this means of instruction "The word of God" has been found to be "quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and to be a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." The revival of religion with which this Society has been blessed, commenced and has prevailed principally among the members of the Bible Class. The first meeting which was held for the formation of the Class, was a season which can never be forgotten by any who were present. The Spirit of God was most evidently with us. An unusual seriousness and solemnity were discoverable on the countenances of many of the youth assembled, while the nature and design of the Class were explained, and especially when they were addressed upon the importance of studying the holy Scriptures, and of applying the sacred truths to the heart and conscience. And at the close of the meeting it was found, that almost all present were ready to make the solemn and interesting inquiry," Men and brethren, what shall we do? There was universally a shaking among the dry bones. With

SELECT VERSIFICATION OF PSALM CXxx.

FROM sin's dark depths, my God, to Thee
1 pour in tears my falt'ring pray❜r:

O hear my cry of agony;

O save me, save me from despair

For if thy justice should pursue

Whate'er of guilt thine eye hath known,
Oh, who could bear the piercing view,
Or stand before thy awful throne!

But thou canst burst the two-fold chain
That binds me still to sin and woe;
And thou canst cleanse the earthly stain,
That tells my fall before my foe.

O free me! cleanse me! bid me live!
And bondage, guilt, and death remove!
And while I tremble, still forgive;

For Thou art mercy, Thou art love.

Then by thy mercy reconciled,
Boundless, unmerited, and free,
SAVIOUR! receive thy long-lost child,
His life, his hope, his all is Thee.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Several new communications have come to hand. "No. II. MEDITATIVE HOURS" was not received in season for its appropriate place in the August Number. Variety in the subjects introduced, requires us to reserve for future Numbers what might otherwise have been inserted earlier. We hope that THE MONITOR was not commenced without some con. viction of the responsibility connected with the influence it might exert. But as our patrons and readers increase, we feel the responsibility still inore strongly. We intreat an interest in the prayers of the pious, that this publication may ever be a PURE stream, making glad the city of God. We hope that Associations of Ministers, may do extensively as "ONE" has done vote, that they will contribute to its pages and otherwise cordially co-operate in promoting its extensive usefulness.

Some Correspondent skilled in Mineralogy, is requested to suggest the probable origin of the concrete rock, called “ Pudding stone."

IT was on a late summer evening, that I took my ramble as usual. The sun had scarcely bid farewell to the scenes, which surrounded me. His departing beams were still shooting above the horizon, and caused the fleecy clouds, which lay piled above each other in the southern hemisphere to reflect every hue to my enraptured eye. It was still as light as day, only every thing seemed to wear a more mellow aspect. The turf on which I was walking seemed to reflect a lovelier green, and the falling dews imparted a still sweeter freshness to the air. It was that lovely season when there is not enough of day to dazzle, nor of night to darken your prospect,-when the general hum of business is ended for the day, and when the tuneful choir are chanting their vesper songs. It is that season when the man, who loves nature, loves to be abroad. It is the season of serious, sober, delightful meditation. If the mind is ever disposed to reflection it is at such an hour. For my part I never take an evening ramble at this hour without finding my mind in a more than usually meditative frame. There is something in the season that naturally inclines us to melancholy. There is something in the close of day so like the close of life, only perhaps we fear it will not be balf so peaceful ;

The

and something so serious in the reflection that the limit of existence here is fixed,and that we have made one day's approach nearer to the goal of our earthly race, that the caudid mind cannot well be otherwise than meditative. It is only those, who never think, who are vain and trifling at such an hour. I thought with how different feelings the humble Christian, and the mere man of this world must contemplate nature at such a time as this. Christian looks upon an evening like this as emblematical of that happy hour, when he shall finish his pilgrimage here, and bidding a last farewell to all things below, shall wing his triumphant flight to the Paradise above,his perils over-his happiness of uninterrupted fruition begun. To the Christian it is no cause of alarm or gloom that his life is wasting away by weeks and days. The nearer death, the nearer heaven. No matter to him how soon this poor life is ended, he is assured it will end in peace. The sooner the final struggle, the sooner his triumph. He cares not where nor how soon he lays off this mortal tenement. It will be the sooner that he will enter, upon his mansion in the realms of eternal bliss. It is not so with the man of this world. If he possess a tolerable share of feeling, the thought that another day of his short life is gone, fills his mind with horror. His soul has no resting place. He is a mariner upon a boisterous sea, without helm, or star, or compass to guide him, and he fears he shall be plunged into that dreadful abyss, which rages and burns with devouring fire to all eternity. How can he calmly see the night of death approaching and feel no fear? How can he feel joyous, when he knows not but he has looked upon his last setting sun and that ere another day dawn, he shall be where no day shall ever dawn, and where no ray of hope shall ever cheer him? How can he be cheerful when he knows that to him the nearer death, the nearer hell? Oh! sinner, sinner! Stop ere thou reach that awful precipice! Pause on thy course! Another step and thou art gone forever! Repent, and live. Then death shall never harm thee. But the hour, when he shall attack thee, shall be an hour of victory over thy foe.

I was indulging in such meditations as these. I had wandered I knew not how far, for so intensely had my mind been engaged that I had taken no notice of the

lapse of time. It was still however an early hour, and I was walking more leisurely forward, when I came upon a party of youth, unperceived, who were seated upon a green, grassy bank beside a little rivulet. They were earnestly engaged in conversation, I paused to listen. I found they were a little club of striplings, who, among other publications, had been reading a late number of the Monitor, and were now engaged in disenssing its contents. They seemed to be unanimously of the opinion that it was the best paper for the object which they had seen. They pointed out many things which they approved, and some which they disapproved. Their conversation was artless, simple, such as we should expect from those of their age. But I found their views had been elevated, their thoughts had been directed into a new channel, I doubted not, by the influence which this publication had exerted over them. After some miscellaneous discussion one of these noble youths stept a little forward of the company, and said, and he blushed when he said it, that he had been writing a letter to the Editor of the Monitor, which he wished to read to them. All this was done with such an air of modesty, and still with so much manliness that they readily gave him audience. After he had finished, they shouted their applause, and were unanimously agreed that it should be sent for publication in the work which they so much valued. To this the youth objected, and would have utterly refused it, had I not stepped forward, and being a friend in whom he had confidence, offered to transact the business for him. I only insisted on his inserting some new paragraphs and making a few verbal corrections in order to fit it to go before the public. There seems to me to be nothing very remarkable in the letter, except it manifests the good feelings and the benevolent desires of the writer and of the little club of youth, who gave so warm an expresion of their approbation of the sentiments, which it contains. It is the following.

SIR

TO THE EDITOR OF THE MONITOR.

I Have read with great interest and attention the numbers of your truly worthy publication as they have successively appeared, and I now wish to express my