thee will I ever belong. Life indeed is sweet, but thy beloved Son has deprived death of its terrors. No fear of it shall overpower me, no fear of it shall induce me to turn away from thee and virtue. When my hour arrives, thou wilt one day call me to thee, well then for me, if I can say to myself, I have fought the good fight, I have as far as my powers would allow me, compieted a virtuous life. The crown of an eternal life awaits me.

No-I fear not death, O thou Father of life! for death is not an eternal sleep. It is the transition to a new life, a moment of great and glorious transformation; an ascensior to thee, my Father in Heaven.

JANUARY XXXI.

THE VOICE OF GOD TO THE HEART Of Man.

Ir is certain that every one either sooner or later in his life hears the voice of God in his heart, at one time gentle and affectionate, at another terrible and awful, such as came from Heaven to the Apostle Paul, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?

It is a voice which speaks to us from the midst of the creations of God, when they surround us in all their summer splendour. When with a heart oppressed with care, and humiliating passions, with the full consciousness of our faults and crimes, we step forth into the free, pure, and uncontaminated sphere of nature, in which every thing from the dew drop which sparkles on the blade of grass, to the rolling orbs of Heaven, from the worm in the dust, to the eagle near the sun, preaches to us of the goodness, the love, and holiness of the Creator; when our eye there surveys with rapture the glory of the God-head in all his works, and our most inward feeling speaks to us, O how good and gracious is the Lord-how wicked and sensual am I! how pure is every thing which comes from his hand, how impure on the contrary, are all my efforts Then it is, when a soft and

affectionate voice speaks to the heart. Why persecutest thou me?

When the autumn spreads over us all the favours of the divine blessings; when the fields, the meadows, the orchards, the vineyards and gardens are laden with fruit, from which all animal life finds plenty and sustenance; then, when, we ungrateful beings look into ourselves, how many sufferers, in the hardness of our hearts, we have left without consolation; how many eyes we have suffered to remain suffused in tears, when we compare the magnitude of the gifts of God with the paucity of our own towards the welfare and happiness of our fellow-creatures, although the means have been amply provided for us by our God; must not then often an inward dissatisfaction at our conduct be excited in us, and it is in this self-examination, that the voice of God speaks to us in a kind and affectionate tone; Why persecutest thou 'me?"

It is the terrible voice which speaks from the thunder cloud in the war of the tempest, and awakens the perilous sinner to serious thought and meditation. It is the voice which issues from the vollied lightning, when its fires kindle alternately the palace of the voluptuary, and the hut of the pauper. It is the voice, which whispers in the sighs of the dying, when a pestilence or plague depopulates entire countries. It is the voice which sounds in the roaring tempest, when its power tears up the aged oak by its roots, or engulphs the shattered ship in the abysses of the ocean. It speaks, but it speaks not to the dead, it speaks to the living, who are obliged to be the witnesses of the great events of the world; the power of the Lord then stands before them with its terrible warning, and says, "Why persecutest thou me?

What! can a mortal persecute God? What is it to persecute God? When a man persecutes one of his fellowcreatures, it generally arises from his having performed exactly the contrary to what, the other wished or desired,

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and whose good designs he attempts to frustrate. Undutiful children persecute their parents, when they repay the kindness and benefits which they have received from them with ingratitude, when they with hatred and contempt, scorn and forgetfulness, with an abandoned and profligate life, imbitter the days of those to whom they are indebted for their existence.

It is however certain that we cannot persecute God in the same manner as we can our terrestrial brethren. He is not present to our view. We cannot persecute Jesus in the manner of the Jews, who led him before the judges, mocked and scorned him, and finally dragged him away to be crucified. Even Paul could no longer persecute Jesus who had risen from his grave, who had ascended into Heaven, and yet the voice from Heaven exclaimed, “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?

There is a God, cries the conscience of the sinner. There is no God cries the act of the sinner. He lives with the eternal laws of right and truth in his breast, and accomplishes the work of injustice and duplicity. He enters the temple of the Supreme Being! he sees the crowd of Christians prostrate in prayer and worship; he hears the announcement of the divine word! he hears the exhortation to the fulfilment of his duties, and, nevertheless, he returns to his usual mode of life, without a single step towards improvement; without having even the inclination to relinquish his wicked ways, or making the attempt to lead a more holy and moral life. Here is a positive contempt of the Deity and of his laws, which man never dare commit with impunity. Some solemn and serious moments present themselves, when his heart becomes moved and afflicted; when he has been perhaps rescued from an imminent danger, or when a great and unexpected joy has surprised him, or when he lay stretched upon a bed of painful sickness, or sheds a tear over the coffin of a dear departed friend. Then he feels the might of God, in whose power he is