Most High, in the attitude of devotion, and formally address him and plead with him, whence can arise the inattention and levity which their conduct too often betrays? They do not truly believe, even then, that God is present; and were He to make it known, by some token obvious to the senses, that he was really in the midst of them, how deep a feeling of awe and dread would the discovery instantly produce and how foolish and impious would they reckon it, to behave n w as they were doing but a moment before, when their convictions were professedly the same!

In the Scriptures, a life of piety is often expressed by the phrase, 'walking with God.' It is plain, that 'walking with God' implies such an impression of his presence as is not felt by men in general; and this impression, this seeing of Him who is invisible, forms an essential part of that faith by which just men live. When we walk with a man, our senses tell us that he is present; and we cannot be said to walk with God, unless we have as firm a belief and as lively a sense of his presence, as we cannot but have of the presence of a man with whom we

converse.

What a powerful tendency must this seeing of the invisible God have to purity and elevate the soul! It is well known that a man's character is apt to be strongly affected by that of the individuals with whom he converses. From the tendency of evil to propagate itself, no man is safe in bad company. On the other hand, the presence of a wise and holy man operates as a check on vice, and constrains even the profligate to hide their shame, unless they are lost to all sense of decency. The contemplation of what is great and noble, elevates and ennobles the soul. The Christian, whose mind is habitually fixed on God, has the greatest and most glorious object in the universe continually before his view. The idea which possesses and fills his mind is the grandest that can be conceived. His thoughts are daily conversant with infinite excellence. The beauty and loveliness on which his eye reposes are absolutely perfect. The presence, from which he can never withdraw, is unspeakably more august and venerable than that of a congregated world. The eye which follows him into darkness and solitude, is far more commanding and overawing than the united gaze of the greatest assembly that ever met on earth. What a check must this be on evil! What a motive to holiness! What a source of courage and happiness to a good man! The man who walks with God, who is for ever conscious of the presence of his Maker, may well think

lightly of the opinion of men. What matters it to him though he be despised by the world, though he be a fool in the estimation of men, if he be wise and good in the judgment of God! The conduct of Moses in refusing to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, in choosing rather to suffer affliction with the oppressed and enslaved people of God, than to sway the scepter of an opulent and flourishing kingdom-this conduct appears inexplicable to those who are unacquainted with his principles and motives; but the apostle perfectly accounts for it by simply saying, he endured, as seeing Him who is in

THE BIRTH AND DEATH OF THE SAVIOUR.

WHEN the angels who over the plains of Bethlehem celebrated, in the still ear of night, the infant Saviour, who on that same day had been born of the house of David, the shepherds who caught the echo of the celestial music were seized with a panic of terror, and but for the gentle and delightful terms in which they were accosted by one of the angelic choir, they would, in all probability, have betaken themselves to precipitate flight. But, supposing that these rustic herdsmen had been endued with such fearless and intrepid minds as to have enabled them to inquire of the heavenly choristers what was the subject of their sprightly notes, and what had induced them to breathe such divine enchanting ravishment' over the midnight repose of slumbering Judah, would not the answer have been immediately, that Mary, the betrothed spouse of Joseph, had brought forth a son, in the city of David? But, supposing that the lowly appearance, and poor accommodation, and external commonness, of all that pertained to this infant, had led the shepherds to ask how he was worthy of such celestial welcomeness, the angels would have returned the ready answer, that this infant of days was the first-born of all creation, was a manifestation not of humanity, corrupt and sinful, and wrecked, but of humanity, sinless, and conjoined with God's own nature, and constituted, in short, that long-expected Saviour, who is Christ the Lord. An event, therefore, which in Bethleham wore no other aspect than that of a case of maternal poverty and infant suffering, was yet so transcendently important as to evoke the sympathies of God's loftiest creatures, and to bring down the angels of heaven to tell the inhabitants of earth that Jehovah can extend his good will to men.

Now, it

might in like manner seem, at a first survey, to those especially who judged merely from external appearances, that the crucifixion of Jesus was an event calculated only to excite feelings of sorrow and gloom. For he was an innocent victim of oppression and violence. He was a stranger to transgression, and the suborned blasphemers who stamped their accusation of him with the seal of perjury, tended but the more conclusively to establish his unimpeachable integrity. The light of day, that had seen so much iniquity committed on the earth, refused to shine on the perpetrators of that nefarious crime which took place on Calvary, and the earth itself gave strange indication of its effects. Nature trembled through all its domains; death, in the unconsciousness of frantic alarm, unbolted for a time the portals of the grave, and the veil in the Jewish temple which separated the holy from the accessible apartments, rent asunder, by miraculous agency, as if to show that there had been contracted such dreadful guilt as defiled the purity of the holy place. Yet Jesus himself, when he was going to leave his disciples a memorial of his character, singled out, not those words of eternal life which he had so often and affectionately expounded, not those miraculous endowments which he had imparted to his apostles, not any of those wonderful achievements, which, in the course of his. public ministry, our Lord, by his own omnipotence, performed; but that last, and darkest, and dreadfulest part of his humiliation, when betrayed by man and forsaken of God, lacerated in body and wounded in spirit, scourged by the minions of power, and scorned by the vilest pests of outcast society, he was nailed to an accursed tree, and, amidst the lamentations of his followers and the sneers of his enemies, gave up the ghost. might have instituted as a commemorative type for his disciples something connected with his brilliant miracles, his double baptism of John and of the Holy Spirit, | his long and signally baffled temptation by Satan in the wilderness, his feeding the five thousand, his healing the sick, raising the dead, infusing miraculous energy into his disciples, or his taking them up to the Mount of Transfiguration, to show them, as from a spiritual Mount Pisgah, the glories of the celestial Canaan. But when, in the prospect of death and disseverment from his disciples, he instituted an ordinance by which they might remember him, that ordinance was not based on a reference to any of these wonderful works, but to the crucifixion of the Son of Man,-not the Lord's eternal dignity nor mediatorial fulness, not his messages of heavenly

He

wisdom, or his miracles of heavenly mercy, but that his disciples might show forth his death till he came.'

If, therefore, the angels who appeared to the shepherds of Bethlehem were transported with wonder and joy at the fact, that he whose nativity they heralded, and whose dignity was eternal, infinite and divine, came into a sinful world, borne down by that humiliation which sin has introduced; then certainly not less wonder and joy ought there to be excited in our minds by the fact, that we, who profess the Christian name, are, by Christ's testamentary will, constituted the heralds of his death. If it was a matter that called forth the joyous anthems of heaven's most seraphic minstrelsy, when, lowly though he was, Jesus appeared as the Saviour of his people from their sins, then where shall we find utterance so high, and emotions so warm, to express the state of mind by which we ought to be animated when we contemplate the redeeming love of our blessed Saviour! The theme of the angels was magnificent, but ours is overwhelming. Theirs was one of the grand progressive steps in the development of the counsel of God respecting man's redemption; ours is the crowning point and consummation of that scheme. Theirs was a theme in which they had no other than a relative and indirect interest; ours involves all our salvation and all our desire. If, therefore, the angels, by celebrating the birth of the infant Saviour, aroused mankind to the knowledge of the fact, let us reciprocate and repay the communion, by showing to all the wide-spread family of God the stupendous fact of Christ's love to the fallen family of man, to the intent that unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places may be made known the manifold wisdom of God.

FRAUD CONDEMNED.

SINCE the fall of man, human nature has ever been the same. Men in former ages strikingly resemble in character and conduct the present inhabitants of the world. How exactly, for instance, does the remark of the wise man correspond with what is daily witnessed in the commercial intercourse between man and man, in describing the means which were in his day employed by a dishonest buyer to procure the articles which he wanted to purchase for less than their real worth: It is naught, it is naught; but when he is gone his way, then he boasteth.' He represents him as, with this view, exaggerating their defects, and pretending that they are worthless. The article you

would sell me is of an inferior quality, the price you put upon it is too high; even if it is worth that to others, it is not worth so much to me, as 1 have no particular use for it, and do not care to purchase it. But when he is gone his way, when he has by these means obtained an article for less than its value, then he boasteth; boasts of his skill and success in making a bargain, or at least secretly exults in it, if he dare not speak of it openly; and perhaps despises the man of whom he has gained the advantage.

Let me ask the reader affectionately, if he has made the rules laid down in God's Word the guide of his conduct in his commercial transactions? Have you, in every instance, dealt with others as you wish that others should deal with you? Have you always acted as under the eye of Godacted as you would have done, had your hearts been laid open to your neighbour's view? Have you ever practised any deception, artifice, or evasion, in buying or selling, never taken any advantage of the ignorance, the inexperience, or the necessities of others? Have your servants, or those whom you employed, never had any reason to complain of you? Have those of you who have been employed by others, always been strictly faithful to the interests of your employers? Is there no pecuniary transaction of your lives, which you would feel unwilling to have publicly known with all its circumstances; no one, which men would condemn were it known to them? In a word, are you prepared to go to the bar of the all-seeing and heartsearching God, and there be tried by the rules mentioned above? To this test every transaction of your lives must be brought; for God will bring every secret thing into judgment. And if your own heart condemn you, much more will God condemn you; for he is greater than your heart, and knoweth all things. He will judge without partiality, favour, or affection. He will make none of those allow ances and excuses for us, which self-love leads us to make for ourselves; nor will he allow the validity of any excuse which we can offer. Then, we are told, every one who hath done wrong shall receive punishment for the wrong done, without any respect of person.

Indeed, we are taught, that God takes special cognizance of those wrongs, which are done by artifice, fraud and deceit, and which human laws cannot prevent or discover. We are told, that the Lord is the avenger of all who are over-reached, or defrauded in any matter, and that he will plead their cause, and spoil those who oppress them. And he forbids us to take revenge of those who have injured us, for this very reason that he will himself exe

cute vergeance. Recompense to no man evil for evil; for vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.' This vengeance he often begins to execute in the present life, by depriving the guilty of that property which they have iniquitously obtained. This he often threatens to do in his Word, this he often actually does in his providences. This being the case, it surely becomes every one who is conscious of having violated the rules of God, in his pecuniary transactious, to inquire seriously what he must do. This inquiry the Scriptures will readily answer. They inform such a man, that his first step must be, to repent, to repent unfeignedly, before God; for repentance must always precede forgiveness. No sin can be pardoned until it is repented of. The blood of Christ can wash out no stain of guilt, on which the tear of penitence has not fallen.

The

In the next place, he must bring forth fruits meet for repentance. In other words. he must make restitution to every one whom he has injured, or defrauded, so far as he can recollect who they are—this is indispensable. There is no repentance, and, of course, no forgiveness, without it. How can a man repent of iniquity, who still retains the wages of iniquity? It is impossible. If he feels any sorrow, it is occasioned, not by hatred of his sin, but by fear of the consequences. Restitution, then, must be made, or the offender must perish. If thou bring thy gift to the altar,' says our Saviour, and there rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee;' that is, any reason to complain of thee; 'go thy way, first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift.' altar was then the place to which the worshippers of God brought their thankofferings, gifts, and sacrifices for sin. Christ, we are told, is now our altar, and to this altar we must bring our prayers, our praises, our services. But he plainly intimates, that he will accept no gift of us, receive no thanks from us, listen to none of our prayers, so long as we neglect to make satisfaction to those whom we have injured. And in vain shall we attempt to atone for neglecting this duty, by performing others, by contributing to the promotion of religious objects, or by liberality to the poor; for God has said, I hate robbery for burnt-offering; that is, I hate, I will not receive an offering, which was unjustly acquired. There is, then, no way but to make restitution; and this every real Christian will make to the utmost of his ability. Agreeably, we hear Zaccheus the publican, saying as soon as he became a Christian, If I have wronged any man, I will restore him fourfold.' I am aware, that this is a most disagreeable duty. Nothing can be harder, or more painful to

our proud hearts. But it will be far easier to perform it, than to suffer the consequences of neglecting it. If it is not performed, our souls must perish, as sure as the word of God is true; and in consequence of indulging a false shame, we shall be overwhelmed with shame and everlasting contempt. Even it as respects our interests in this world only, we had better, far better, put a blazing fire-brand into the midst of our possessions, than retain amongst them the smallest particle of gain, which was not fairly obtained; for it will bring the curse of God upon us, and upon all the works of our hands.

an impartial verdict of a jury, and furnishes the judge with his sentence; it sets the husband as lord of the household, and the wife as mistress of the table; tells him how to rule, and her how to manage. It entails honour to parents, and enjoins obedience to children; it prescribes and limits the sway of the sovereign, the rule of the ruler, and authority of the master; commands the subjects to honour, and the servants to obey; and promises the blessing and protection of its Author to all that walk by its rules. It gives direction for weddings and for burials; it promises food and raiment, and limits the use of both; it points out a faithful and an eternal guardian to the departing husband and father; tells him with whom to leave his fatherless children, and in whom his widow is to trust; and promises a father to the former, and a husband to the latter. It teaches a man how to set his house in order, and how to make his will; it appoints a dowry for the wife, and entails the right of the first born; and shows how the younger branches shall be left. It defends the right of all, and reveals vengeance to every defrauder, over-reacher, and oppressor. It is the first book, the best book, and the oldest book, in all the world. It contains the choicest matter, gives the best instruction, and affords the greatest pleasure and satisfaction that ever was revealed. It contains the best laws and profoundest mysteries that ever penned. It brings the best tidings, and affords the best of comfort to the inquiring and disconsolate. It exhibits life and inmortality, and shows the way to everlasting glory. It is a brief recital of all that is past, and a certain prediction of all that is to come. It settles all matters in debate, resolves all doubts, and eases the mind and conscience of all their scruples. It reveals the only living and true God, and shows the way to him; and sets aside all other gods, and describes the vanity of them, and of all that trust in them. In short, it is a book of laws, to show right and wrong; a book of wisdom, that condemns all folly, and makes the foolish wise; a book of truth, that detects all lies, and confutes all errors; and a book of life, that shows the way from everlasting death. It is the most compendious book in all the world; the most authentic, and the most entertaining history that ever was published; it contains the most early antiquities, strange events, wonderful occurrences, heroic deeds, unparalleled wars. It describes the celestial, terrestial, and infernal worlds; and the orign of the angelic myriads, human tribes, and infernal legions. It will instruct the most accomplished mechanic, and the profoundest artist; it will teach the best rhetorican,

were

and exercise every power of the most skilful arithmetician; puzzle the wisest anatomist, and exercise the nicest critic. It corrects the vain philosopher, and guides the wise astronomer; it exposes the subtle sophist, and makes diviners mad. It is a complete code of laws, a perfect book of divinity, an unequalled narrative; a book of lives, a book of travels, and a book of voyages. It is the best covenant that ever was agreed on, the best deed that ever was sealed, the best evidence that ever was produced, the best will that ever was made, and the best testament that ever was signed. To understand it, is to be wise indeed; to be ignorant of it, is to be destitute of wisdom. It is the king's best copy, the magistrate's best rule, the housewife's best guide, the servant's best directory, and the young man's best companion. It is the school-boy's spelling-book, and the learned man's masterpiece; it is the ignorant man's dictionary, and the wise man's directory. It affords knowledge of witty inventions for the ingenious, and dark sayings for the grave; and it is its own interpreter. It encourages the wise, the warrior, the racer, the overcomer; and promises an eternal reward to the conqueror. And that which crowns all is, that the Author is without partiality, and without hypocrisy, for in him is no variableness, nor shadow of turning.'-From an old Author.

TIME AND ETERNITY.

THE world to come has power from its real existence. It is not a fable, it is not a dream of the fancy; it is a reality. To us, who are now alive upon the earth, it is the world to come, and we shall have no experience of it till death shall have put an end to our present mode of existence; but to our friends who have gone before us, it is the actual present world, in which they live, and move, and are. They have no longer any portion in all that is done under the sun, yet they are living, think ing, conscious beings, wide awake to all the realties of existence. So far are they from having suffered any extinction of their intellectual and moral being, any diminution of their powers of thought and feeling,-that these are awakened into new life and vigour, yea, kindled into an intensity and ardour which cannot be so much as guessed at by our clay-imprisoned minds.

They cannot come to us, but we shall go to them. We shall, every one of us, become inhabitants of their world, and pass into that state of existence which is now experienced by them. If we are not pro

fessed infidels, we, of course, admit the truth of these statements. May it not, then, be taken for granted, that all who assent to the doctrine of a future state, are showing their faith by their works, and are living, not with a view to their present gratification, but to the ultimate safety and happiness of their souls? Is it possible to believe in the reality of another world, and yet remain unconcerned about it? Alas! the far greater part of men live very much as they would do, were the doctrine of a future state blotted from their creed. Why? Because they are destitute of that faith which is the evidence of things not seen. Their dim idea of a future state is not belief, it is not conviction,-it is a vague, unexamined, floating notion, as remote as anything can be from the nature of a deeply felt sentiment, and an abiding principle of action. The present world comes in between them and the future, hides it from their view, and intercepts its influence.

To the genuine believer, who receives the testimony of God concerning things not seen as yet, the real existence of a future state is a matter of certainty. Hence it has power over him, and constrains him, by the force of his own deeply felt convictions, to engage earnestly in the great business of providing for his happiness in that unknown state towards which he is hastening. Hence, though he is sometimes careful and troubled about many things,' he feels that 'one thing is needful, and he chooses that good part which shall not be taken away from him.'

'Soul,' said the rich man in the parable, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry. But God said, Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be which thou hast provided?'

By the fatal words, many years,' multitudes are bewitched as with a spell. They look at the world to come through the long vista of 'many years,' and thus it is divested of its importance and power of impression,-as the distinctness and apparent magnitude of visible objects are diminished in proportion to their distance. Men know that they must die,—they know that they may die soon; but so long as they can flatter themselves with the hope that there are yet many years between them and death, the thought of it, and of the state beyond it, gives them little concern. What a change comes over them, when they feel that life is ebbing, and that the world to come is just at hand! Now they awake as from a dream! now the world to come is invested with an absorbing interest, and their former apathy in reference to it is regarded as the height of