Besides, brethren, it is useful that you should hear of this subject, not only for yourselves, but for others also. You cannot but observe when you come to church how many there are that neglect it; how many are standing in the streets or making their way into the fields, and these, I understand, when we are assembled here, increase into a multitude. Now this concerns you-because if there is any thing that you can do to prevent it, you ought to have that zeal for God and that love for the souls of men, which should lead you to make the attempt.

A great deal might be done by remonstrating with such as you know, by putting useful tracts into their hands, and by other kind and prudent measures trying to search their consciences and affect their heart.

The Sabbath-breaking in Carlisle is not of that kind which calls much for legislative interference—though there are cases even here in which the arm of authority might be raised with good effect. But in the metropolis, Sabbath-breaking has got to such an alarming height, is carried on so in a system, and in defiance of all penalties, that the subject has been brought before the House of Commons. The committee have published their report, which describes so many and gross profanations, that if something is not done to check the evil, it will spread through the land, carrying irreligion, infidelity, and wickedness along

with it.

There are not wanting in the new Parliament, men who will stand up for their God and for their country, to repress evils, which must, if persevered in, bring down his chastisements on the land. These should be cheered on by voices from every part of the kingdom. They should feel that they have the best wishes, the best prayers of the religious part of the community for their success.

More it becomes me not to say from this place. I would only leave with you this simple question, can any Christian man learn the dreadful disregard of the Sabbath which exists, and stand acquitted in his own conscience, if he remains an unconcerned hearer of the report, and will not take any step towards checking an evil of such fearful magnitude, and so evidently tending to bring down the judgment of God on our guilty nation?

MISSIONS TO THE HEATHEN IN ENGLAND.

MISSION III.

I was crossing a field one morning, when I perceived a crowd collecting near a chalk pit. On enquiry I found that an accident had happened, and hastened to the spot. There I was told that a young man named William Matthews had fallen from the upper part to the bottom, and lay quite senseless. The chalk pit was very deep, and difficult of access; but two men were let down with ropes to the assistance of the unfortunate sufferer. As they drew him up, he appeared to come to himself, but it was only to vent curses on his own folly, and on those who stood around him. It was an awful sight. The man was bruised all over, one leg broken, and a severe wound inflicted on the side of the head which bled copiously. Apparently there was but a step between him and death, and yet he used only the language of hell, and never once begged the Lord to have mercy upon his poor soul. William Matthews was one of the worst young men in the parish; he was given to drinking, and swearing, and Sabbath breaking, and was a continual anxiety to his industrious parents. He had only that morning been in a violent passion with his mother, and left the cottage, vowing he would be revenged of her; but He who has said, "honour thy father and thy mother," was swift to punish this open defiance of his law: a false step on the edge of the chalk pit precipitated him at once, and had nearly cut him off for ever from all hope of mercy. Those who knew him and grieved over his misconduct, trusted that this accident might be the means of leading him to become a servant of God, and for some time he promis ed fair, and resolved to amend his ways. As he lay on his sick bed he would many a time exclaim, "O how wicked I have been! if my life is spared I shall be quite another man; I shall go to church instead of the alehouse, and read my Bible instead of fighting and quarrelling. William Matthews was supposed to be a true penitent; but God who alone can know the heart of man, saw that nothing but fear had led him to cry out, "what must I do to be saved?" and he neither regarded the Bible answer to the question, or lifted up one prayer to God that he might be enabled to keep his good resolution. He recovered; he got quite well, and for the first few weeks he went to church and kept away from the alehouse; but we know that our own MAY.-F3

strength is perfect weakness, and the devil has full power over all who attempt to stand without the help of Divine grace. In the course of two months he became even worse than he had been before his accident. It was as if Satan had brought seven other evil spirits to enter and dwell within him; and from that time till the day of his death, I do not believe he ever had any serious thoughts of God or his own soul. His last end was dreadful-all his sins were brought back to his remembrance, and he continually declared there was no mercy for him. "I have been a great sinner," he exclaimed, "and God hates me- I hate him-for I know I must go to hell. He once gave me time for repentance-he told me that Jesus Christ died for sinners, and that if I turned to him [ should find mercy-but I neglected that warning and now it is too late-there is no hope. I shall go to the master I have served. I shall burn for ever in hell." Then he would begin his dreadful language again, and curse and swear till he stopped for want of breath. His last words were curses on God and his own soul, and doubtless those on himself were soon fulfilled in the flames of that lake whose fire never can be quenched.

Reader, are you a determined sinner like William Matthews? Take warning. Perhaps God has already sent some trouble to bring you back to him-if so, let it not be slighted. Call upon God in your affliction, and beg him to have mercy upon your soul. If you have had your warning and are again in health and comfort, think of these words of our blessed Saviour, "Behold thou art made whole, sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee." Either God will send you trial upon trial to bring you back to himself, or your heart will become hardened like Pharoah's, till you go down quick into hell. Listen to a voice from the grave! If William Matthews could speak, he would say, "Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return to the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." May some poor sinner be warned by this short history, and pray for the grace of God to leave the ways of sin before it is too late for repentance.

T P.

EXTRACTS FROM RUTHERFORD'S LETTERS.

I am thinking long now for some deliverance, but I know I am in error; it is possible I am not come to that measure of trial that the Lord is seeking in his work.

I observe many who think it holiness enough to complain, and set themselves to do nothing; as if to say, "I am sick,” would cure them; they think complaints a good charm against guiltiness.

Blessed be God, Christ and we are not heard before men's courts: it is at home betwixt him and us that pleas are taken away.

Christ knoweth the body of sin unsubdued needs all the crosses, losses, changes and sad hearts that befall us.

Whenever our faith goeth to meddle with events, and to hold a court upon God's providence, and beginneth to say, "how wilt thou do this and that?" we lose ground. We have nothing to do there; it is our part to let the Almighty exercise his own office; there is nothing left us but to see how we may be approved of him, and how we may roll the weight of our souls in well-doing upon him who is God omnipotent.

I hear the Lord hath taken pains to afflict and dress you, as a fruitful vine to himself: grow and be green and cast out your branches and bring forth fruit: green and fruitful may you be in the true Root.

I dare not expound the Lord's dealings as sorrow and unbelief often dictate to me: I look often with my blind eyes to my Lord's cross; and when I look to the wrong side of the cross, I know I miss a step and slide.

I am in as sweet communion with Christ as a poor sinner can be; and am only pained that he hath much beauty and fairness and I little love; he great power and mercy, and I little faith; he much light, and I bleared eyes.

I seek no more here but room for grace's defence and Christ's white throne, whereto a sinner condemned by the law may appeal.

I am so comfortless and so full of heaviness, that I am not able to stand under the burden any longer. It is hard to keep sight of God in a storm; especially when he hides himself for the trial of

his children. If he would be pleased to remove his hand, I have a purpose to seek him more than I have done. Happy are they who can get away with their soul: I am afraid of his judgments. I bless my God that there is a death and a heaven. I would weary to begin again to be a Christian, so bitter is it to drink of the cup which Christ drank of: I have comfort in this, that he hath said, I must fight and overcome the world.

Go on through your waters without wearying; your Guide knoweth the way; follow him and cast your cares and temptations upon him, and let not worms the sons of men affright you.

Who knoweth how needful winnnowing is to us; and what dross we must want, ere we come into the kingdom of God?

He hath taught me, in my wilderness, not to spin or twine his sweet love in one web or in one thread with the world and the things thereof. O! if I could but hold and keep Christ all alone and mix him with nothing.

Christ and his cross are not separable in this life; howbeit they part at heaven's door: one tear, one sigh, one sad heart, one fear, one loss, or thought of trouble, cannot find lodging there; they are but the marks of our Lord Jesus down in this wide inn and stormy country on this side of death: I find his sweet presence eateth out the bitterness of sorrow and suffering. O what a portion is Christ! O that the saints would dig deeper into the treasures of his wisdom and excellency.

I see mortification and to be crucified to the world, is not so highly accounted of by us as it should be. O how heavenly a thing is it to be deaf and dumb to this world's music. I scarce now either see or hear what it is that this world offereth me; I know it is little that it can take from me, and as little can it give me. I recommend to you mortification above any thing; for alas! we but chase feathers flying in the air, and tire our worn spirits, for the froth and over gilded clay of a dying life.

All I can do is but to stand beside Christ's great love and look and wonder. My debts of thankfulness affright me. When I count with him for his mercies to me I must go away as a poor debtor who hath nothing to pay.