pecting that he had broken any of them, even in the thoughts or wishes of his heart; and, by a necessary consquence, atoneinent by the blood of the Great Sin-offering, and regeneration of heart by the divine Spirit, appeared to him as doctrines of no value: he had, however, good natural sense, and could perceive that the righteous is, in many instances, "more excellent than his neighbour." The name of Methodist was then hardly known; and Presbyterian was the general term with which an ignorant multitude thought fit to reproach almost all persons of serious godliness. Amongst these, the master of the youth was well known; and he shared largely the scourge of the persecutor's tongue. His servant, who had often, in other instances, united in similar revilings, was now convinced that his master, at least, merited better treatment: he saw him upright, gentle, temperate, benevolent, and devout; and the youth said to himself, "Surely, a bad religion could not make so good a man." This conviction wrought so powerfully on the mind of the servant, that be exceedingly wished to know more perfectly what his master's religion was; but he had said to his father, and he held his promise sacred, "I will never enter the meetinghouse at." This engagement held him to his church; but his desire to attend, for once, where his master worshipped, still encreased; and he believed he could, without a breach of promise, stand in the porch of the meeting-house. He did so. It was a summer's day, the doors were opened, the minister pleaded with earnestness, the youth's attention was caught, and the arrow of conviction reached the destined mark. He said, and it was the first time he had made the confession, "I am a lost sinner;" but he soon added, "To me is the word of his salvation sent." The change in his character was sudden, but decisive. He had heard the voice of the good Shepherd, and could no longer be happy, whilst excluded from his fold. As became a son, both dutiful and pious, he wrote to his father, saying, "I faithfully regard my promise, not to enter the meeting-house at —— as the condition of my present residence; but I cannot any longer remain here, unless you remove that condition, and allow me to attend where, I believe, my duty to God and my eternal interest direct me." On the receipt of this letter, the father, highly alarmed and enraged, commanded his son instantly to return home; yet he was obliged, out of regard to his master's interest, to send, for the present, a younger son in his room; from whom he exacted the same promise which he had received from his brother. The converted youth, with mingled joy and sorrow, now sought the paternal roof, and met an angry parent with submission, and ardent prayer to God for direction in his new and trying situation. The next Lord's Day morning his father, see ing the son preparing to walk, enquired what was his design: the son replied, "Father, I revere your authority; you know I have ever obeyed you; and, in one instance, I fear I carried that obedience too far, by placing your authority above that of my Heavenly Judge: my promise extended only to one place, and I am going this morning to the meeting-house at B——: it is the nearest place in which I can unite with serious Christians, and hear the doctrine which I think necessary to my eternal salvation. In this instance, I hope you will allow me to act for myself: in all others I am still ready to obey your commands." To this address the enraged father replied, "If you go to any meeting, my house shall be no longer your home." "I hope it will," the son replied, and respectfully withdrew. He avoided that day to see his father again; and the next day he silently resumed his usual occupation. But religion was now the pleasure and business of every day to this pious youth. Often he would protract the evening-walk with a brother or a sister on His arm, to whom he told, with heart-felt joy, the hope which glowed in his breast for another and a better world, where He dwells who bore the curse for quilty men. At home, the winter's evening was employed in religious converse; and Dr. Watis's psalms and hymns, which he had brought with him, agreeably allured a family fond of music, and banished from their dwelling the vain and triflag village-song. This change, of course, became the wonder and the reproach of the whole village. Had the family become abandoned to every vice, the circunstance would probably have excited little surprize or regret; but to hear of religion on any day but Sunday, was a new thing to these poor villagers, and as disagreeable as it was strange; even the children at school learned to revile, as they passed the door, the whole of the family where the heavenly stranger had taken up his constant abode. The work was of God, and none could hinder it. In a few months the pious youth had the happiness to discover a decided change of character in a brother, and in two of his sisters; and they, determining to share the reproach of the cross, accompanied their brother to his usual place of worship. Frequently, on their return, they were all four of them shut out of doors by an offended father; and thus would have remained without shelter, had not their mother (a tender parent, and now beginning to be a pious one) often crept silently down the stairs, at dead of night, to re-admit her banished children. The father, poor unhappy man, would have felt far less sorrow in following his children to the grave, than in seeing them thus take their whole delight in prayer and praise, and holy converse; though y it was evident to all impartial observers, that every moral virtue, and every tender attachment to himself, were, by their religion, abundantly heightened and enlarged. How dreadful are the effects of a deep-rooted prejudice against evangelical truth! -- New events increased the unhappy father's grief, and the joy of his pious children. The son, who had replaced his elder brother, now informed his father that he must, if he stayed at C***, have liberty also to hear what he believed to be the gos pel of salvation. The father replied with anger," you must use your own pleasure, for I have no other son whom I can trust to replace you." Steady perseverance gained on the father's opposition; he saw that his children, though they were dutiful to him, had learned, that "to love father or mother more than Christ, is to be unworthy of him." The neighbours too became less violent in their reproaches, when they perceived that they were patiently endured. Truth prevailed, and opposition gave way. The elder children carefully instructed the younger; all had liberty to attend serious and godly preachers. Devotion and a godly life silenced the objections of one parent, whilst the other, together with all her ten children, evidently partook of that grace which bringeth salvation. The writer of these lines saw the aged mother about the year 1774, six weeks before her death; she was then eighty-one ; venerable in form and countenance; her dignity was that of a saint just about to commence the song, "Unto him that hath loved me," &c. This old disciple retraced, in the preceding history, the dealings of God to her and hers, in a manner which fixed an indelible impression on the writer's mind, though he was then but eleven years old. A few days after this interview, she was admitted into the joy of her Lord. The father, who died some years before, had regularly attended the means of grace with his family. One of the sons died in youth. The other five were esteemed and highly useful Christians in several of the midland counties. One of the daughters is still living in the county of Gloucester, and possesses, in advanced life, all the ardent piety of her long-deceased parent. An immediate descendant of one of the younger brothers is pastor of a Christian Society within a few miles of the village of C-, and sometimes preaches, he hopes with success, hard by the house of his ancestors, which he never views without saying," Lord, I adore thy ways to bring me near to God." "Thy ways are iu the great deep, and thy footsteps are not known." "Thy counsel shall stand, and thou wilt do all thy pleasure." The preceding narrative may lead us to reflect, 1. On the injustice of the charge so often urged against godly ministers and serious Christians, as disturbers of the peace of society. When the lamb is to be worried, the wolf wants not a pretext. Ever since our divine Master dwelt on the earth, his doctrine has excited violent opposition from the ignorant, the prejudiced, and the vicious; but shall we, on this account, censure Christianity? As well may we blame the innocent traveller for exciting tire avarice and the cruelty of the robber. In the religion of Christ all is meek, peaceful, and benevolent: its opposers render it the occasion of reproach and bitter contention; but the cause of these evils is in themselves; and with them will finally rest both the blame and the punishment. 2. The pastor who, in his own residence, or during his own life, gathers but little fruit from his labours, has often by them enriched distant churches and succeeding enerations. Let ministers recollect this in the hour of discouragement, nor ever decline from their Master's work, since a single discourse, addressed to an unexpected hearer, has often proved as a fountain opened to circulate the highest of all blessings through. channels too numerous, complex, and extensive, to be traced with accuracy, till knowledge shall be rendered complete in a better world. 3. In the commencement of a religious course, how necessary is it to unite the meekness of wisdom with unbending fortitude! Had the pious son been deficient in meekness, he might have fled his father's house, or have violently resented the harsh treatment which he received. On the other hand, without fortitude to sustain persecution, he would have resigned, to present interest and ease, all the unspeakable advantages and consolations of religion; but combining these virtues, though the trial was hard, the result was happy. 4. Let it not be forgotten that the holy life and gentle manners of a pious master first silenced, in his servant, objections to religion, and then induced him to attend a gospel ministry. Too often, we fear, is this case reversed; and thus the way of truth is evil spoken of. God will establish the work of our hands upon us; and religion will abundantly prosper when those who avow its interests shall also display its excellencies in their habitual conduct, and thus become "living epistles of Jesus Christ, known and read of all men." A WALK OF USEFULNESS A WEEK BEFORE THE WORLD'S END. NEPOS. ONE day, musing in my little parlour, my thoughts were carried forward to the last week of the world's existence. I supposed this circumstance to be known only to myself, and that all things were in the same state they are now. I determined to walk into London, to do all the good I possibly could. On my way I overheard a drayman swearing at a neighbour who had offended him. I touched him on the shoulder, and whispered in his ear, that the Son of God wouid call him to aecount for his swearing, and for all his conduct, in the course of the week; and therefore advised him to prepare to meet his Judge. The man, at first, was remarkably struck with this un common and unexpected salutation. He then turned to his neighbours, saying, "What think you this man has been telling me? He says, the Judge of men is to be here in a week." Some laughed; another said, "Wo be to me if he be here so soon, for I've been a wicked fellow."-Another said, "It is all a farce; let us mind our work :" and away they went. I walked on; but passing a public-house, and hearing a number of people singing over a pot of porter, I returned, and stepped into the house. Enquiring what they were about,-with an oath, one replied, "We are making ourselves merry with a little beer, Sir." Now, do not count me rude,' said I, when I ask, Have all of you been sorry for your sins yet?-has ever that cost you a serious thought "Not much," replied they all, with a smile. It is time, high time, that every one of you think seriously upon that matter, and how your sins may be pardoned, for the Judge is at the door; and when he cometh he will bring every man to his bar, to answer for his deeds, whether good or bad. One man, who appeared more serious than the others, requested me to inform them how a sinner could be saved; “for,” said he, "I was once thinking a good deal about these things, but people told me I was turning Methodist; and I did not like that, Sir; and so I thought no more of the matter." Believe,' said I, as poor sinners, in the Lord Jesus Christ, as the Son of God and Saviour of sinners,, and ye shall be saved. I desired them also, when their work was over, to run to their Bibles, and there they would find full instruction. about things of the last importance for them to know. Upon this I left them, hastening to the chief concourse of people, I mean the Royal Exchange. Here I found hundreds anxiously occupied about the affairs of this life. I stood upon a chair, that might be seen by all; and, with a loud voice, requested silence and attention for a few minutes, which the novelty of the citcumstance soon obtained; when I spoke to the following purport: "Gentlemen, Unless I had a matter of the utmost consequence to communicate, I could not have had the boldness to interrupt your business in this public way. You must, no doubt, be expecting that I am to convey important intelligence respecting the war in which we are engaged. I may say your conjecture, in one sense, is just, for it certainly shall be finished this week; but when you have heard the whole, I am sure that the intelligence will make no impression on the funds; for the funds shall also terminate with time. The end of all things is at hand! The Judge is now on his throne of grace, but he leaves it on Sunday next for a throne of judgment: wherefore I solemnly call upon every man present to consider his ways, to turn to the Lord and he shall live, and welcome the Lord at his coming. But if you do not, you shall be thrust from the presence of the Lord into the prison of perdition, there to be |