and she, filled with deep contrition for past unfaithfulness, had asked, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ?" She indulged the blissful vision farther. Her friends would return home, not as they came, but deeply affected with their sin and danger. Others seeing their solicitude would feel that it was equally important for them to find the way of life. The feeling would spread: the whole town would humble itself before God. Soon some would be brought to rejoice in a crucified Saviour. They would see the character of Jehovah, lovely in justice and in mercy. They would see how through Christ he could be just, and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus. Christians would be filled with joy and love, and beholding the sovereign mercy of God would say, "even so, Father, for so it seemeth good in thy sight." Angels would rejoice to see new honours given to their King, and all the spirits of the just would say, Allelulia. C. would have continued her reflections, but the question arose, have I the self-denying spirit which will enable me to begin such a work? It is vain for me to think that it is the labour of a day, or that there will be no difficulties to encounter. Am I ready to begin immediately? There is no need of hurrying. It is better to consider, and be careful not to exhibit more zeal than knowledge. But were not sinners in the most imminent danger; would they not go to destruction unless some one made an effort; and who was under greater obligations than C.? Again, she thought, I must do something. But she might pray for her companions; and what time had she to do more? There were already more meetings than she could attend. She finally found excuses sufficient to deter her from engaging in any thing which might be for the benefit of others. Contemplating the difficulties only, she disregarded the greatness of the object, and the recompense of reward. Thus ended all her delightful anticipations; so soon the ardent flame which had been kindled in her breast was extinguished. Still there are as many as before who are far from righteousness, and exposed to the wrath of an offended Saviour. Companions of C. you may go on unwarned to the regions of death. C. has no time to pray for you or to try to draw you to the Saviour. She once indeed cherished the delightful hope that she might be employed to lead you to set your affections on more enduring things than earthly pleasures. But these hopes are blasted, for she cannot deny herself. Think you that your souls are worth as much as her employments and amusements? Think you that immortality is as important as time? Trifle with eternity, laugh at the terrors of your angry Judge, slight a proffered Saviour, and in the flowery paths of sin travel to the land of eternal death.-C. is willing-yes, willing that you should die. C. C.

A SABBATH EVENING CONVERSATION.

IT was a beautiful evening of July, when Mr. and Mrs. Erskine sat down in their neat piazza to enjoy the scenery which lay before

them, and to relieve the thoughtful seclusion of the day by social intercourse. The day was closing with great serenity and splendour; the sun had already sunk down behind the western mountains and begun his dark course to the east; the clouds had gathered over the valley, which embosoms the village, in an awning richly coloured, and were reflected to the inhabitant of the hill side, by a pool clear as molten amber. To a stranger, the whole might seem enchantment; the pool and its murmuring outlet-the hills rising on all sides irregular among the clouds-the woodlands enlivened by the sons and daughters of music-the youth walking forth as if to converse with the genius of the valley-the prattling children breaking away from long and wearisome confinement, not noisy, and yet not still, all conspired to affect the mind of the stranger delightfully. The Erskins, however, were little moved by what they had so often beheld. They were conscious of no higher emotions than those of a general and tranquillizing nature. The scene had been so frequently repeated, and in such variety of colouring, that admiration had ceased to wonder. The creations of fancy alone could not exceed it in the richness, which the ever varying aspect of the clouds imparted. It was the spot of ground their earliest ancestor, on this side of the Atlantic, had chosen; and they felt, and they would deem it base not to feel, a few generous throbings of self-complacency at the pleasure which visitors expressed respecting the site of their mansion.

Such being their feelings, only a moment passed in admiring God in the beauties of his works. They expressed, in a few words, the gratitude they felt for the goodly heritage he had given them.

Soon after Mr. Erskine with his wife had taken possession of the piazza, they were joined by a daughter and two neighbours. When the first civilities were passed a short silence ensued, but was quickly broken.

"We have had a fine day since the slight shower in the morning," said Mr. Barber.

"Very fine," responded Mr. Erskine, " and not altogether an unfit emblem of a man's life, whose youth has been overhung with clouds, but his old-age serene with christian hope and heaven-born joys. I was gratified to see the audience to-day so large."

"The house was quite full," added Mr. Barber, "It is good to see folks go to meeting, even if they seem to be very little benefitted. What is it that so benumbs our minister-makes him so dullinactive? Such an assembly, I should suppose, would stir up a man's blood, quicken his very pulse, make his passions boil in him. If he would only let loose his feelings, he might raise us all to deeds of holy living. Were our lives depending on the plea he makes, would he stand so like the monumental marble, cold and motionless. Go to court and hear some of our lawyers. They get into a man's case-work up their feelings, fancy themselves in the situation of the culprit; how like a torrent they bare one along with them-force our belief of what they say, so that we think both sides of the question to be true. But the minister of the Gospel, who speaks not where mortal life is suspended, not where mere temporary happi

ness is concerned, but whose plea relates to the immortal destiny of every man that hears his voice, talks on, as if talking were his trade, reads his notes as the school-boy does his lesson, with eyes downcast, intent mainly to decypher his hasty scrawling. Now all this I dislike. I am not surprised that we get no more good from preaching.

"I acknowledge," said Mr. Erskine, "there is too much truth in your representation. We are creatures of feeling: I have need to be addressed as such. But"

"Acknowledge!" interrupted Mr. Barber, "There is too much apology in the word. The subject admits no glossing-it glares in every child's face."

"Yes, but”—

"Now recur for a moment to the sermon this afternoon. It contained, we must allow, much good sense. The sentiment was well supported; the divisions appeared to be appropriate and ingenious: though, by the way, I thought his second inference forced, and not easily traced to his subject. But, after all, say what we will, and much we may justly say in favour of his talents, he missed his point. He reasoned too much: few could follow his argument; and stil fewer felt disposed to reason on that subject, which none dispute. He seemed to imagine that we were all at sword's points with him about the issue of his subject, contesting every principle he advanced. It was not so. Every man's conscience assented to almost every proposition, one after another, as soon as announced. We were all waiting to see what use he would make of the truthhow he would apply it to our own case. The attention of the audience was generally fixed; but fixed, not so much on the chain of argumentation, as to have their own hearts affected by the bursting of passion which they anticipated after he had convinced them of the truth of his position. But his passions flow as philosophically as his

reason.

"You have given my views," said Mrs. Erskine," even better than I could have described them myself. I thought he would have it, that we disbelieved every thing he said.

"Indeed," rejoined Mr. Barber, "he seemed determined to make us think we really differed from him; and yet he knows there are not five men that hear him, who would not without controversy yield full evidence to that part of his creed.”

Mr. Erskine. "You know very well, Mr. Barber, that men need line upon line. Our minds are such that known truths must be often repeated-presented in different lights-viewed from several positions to affect the mind of all. Some will catch it in this attitude, others in that. The judicious minister will "not always address one class of his hearers. He will suit his subjects, and his manner of discussing them to their various tastes; dividing to each a portion in due season. Sometimes instructing the ignorant, sometimes alarming the careless, now comforting the dejected, now reproving the backsliders, and often convincing practical gainsayers."

"Most cheerfully," said Mr. Barber, "do I subscribe to this definition of a judicious preacher; and have only to regret that

you exclude the greater part of ministers with whom I am acquainted, from the circle you define. They may, indeed, divide the audience into classes, differing in some respects from one another; as the young, the aged, the careless sinner and the engaged christian, the proud and the humble; but still, in other respects these classes are made up of one general class. To be plain, most ministers appear to agree in this, however in other things they may disagree, to regard us all as stoic philosophers-destitute of passions and only to be affected by cold demonstration. Were we atheists, were we infidels, did we deny the doctrines of religion, it would be proper to reason with us; but even in that case they must enlist our feelings, if they would see us profited by the reasoning. Let them boldly address me, as if it were a conceded point that I believe their message, and I should not think of taking reffuge in my supposed error; they would have me, of course, at their command, and could show my heart its deformity in acting so inconsistently with my professions, and humble me in view of the warfare between my judgment and passions.

"You have changed your notions of late," said Mrs. Barber, pleasantly, "have you not, Mr. Barber ?"

"In what respects, my dear," he inquired.

"Not long since, if I remember right, you expressed very marked disapprobation of a certain preacher, because he was too direct and bold in his addresses. The time, the man, the subjects I presume, you readily recollect. You remarked, some days after, that you thought the truth, if it had been in a different, a milder dress, would have stung the heart and conscience of our neighbour through and through."

"Yes, I remember it well," Mr. Barber replied, with agitation of mind and some discomposure of features, for that truth was a nail in a sure place to his own conscience, "but you mistake a little," he continued, "it was not boldness that offended me. Boldness in that case was impudence. He seemed like a man whose ardour is half enthusiasm and hålf irritation. He fairly scolded us. "You must and you shall," says he, "you can't and you can," and all this as an angry man. Who could endure such bluntness?

Ay!" said Mr. Erskine, with a good natured and wise look, "who could? The sword goes deepest when out of the sheath. Plain truth is a two edged sword: the blood must follow where it enters the flesh. But I percieve that nothing will suit you; whether calm or vehement, pointed or dull, logical or practical preaching, it seems alike faulty."

"I assure you, I am not difficult to be pleased,” replied Mr. Barber; "give me a preacher who appears to be conscious of his exalted station as the embassador of the court of Heaven, proffering terms of favour to rebel man, and I respect him because he respects himself; I honour him, because he is honoured of God and does not degrade his office. If he is authorized to denounce punishment against the wicked, and proclaim pardon to the penitent, and holds in his hand the credentials of Heaven, let him deliver his message boldly, fearlessly, as one that hath authority; and not mince, and

whine, and tamper, with eyes down cast and arms folded. Is that becoming his great message? Or if he chance to raise his voice and cast a manly look over his hearers, is it befitting his dignity and the holy fervour he should feel to prop up under the sounding board, like a pillar fixed immoveable by a brace on either side. Paul "stretched forth his hand" when he spake before the Roman governor, and "Agrippa said unto him: almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian."

Miss Eliza Erskine, who had hitherto been a silent listener, and had taken no part in the debate either actually or in her feelings, was by the last remarks so forcibly reminded of Cowper's eloquent. description of the preacher, that she observed to Mr. Barber, how his views agreed with those of the poet. At the request of the company, she repeated most of the description.

"From such apostles, O ye mitred heads!

Preserve the church! and lay not careless hands
On skulls that cannot teach and will not learn.
Would Ledescribe a preacher, such as Paul,
Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and own,
Paul should himself direct me," &c.

"A keen satire, no doubt," said Mr. Erskine, "upon the generality of preachers in his day; but touches not, cannot be made to touch the clergy of this country. If Cowper were to draw their lineaments, by selecting an individual to represent them as a whole, he would give us off in bold strokes,

"The man, whose heart is warm,

Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life
Coincident, exhibit lurid proof

That he is honest in the sacred cause;"

"But I know very well," he continued, "that you young people are not satisfied with the naked truth. There has been a great change in the taste of this country since my remembrance, in regard to the style and manner of preaching. You have "itching ears" for the "turns," "the tropes," "the brilliant parts," "the pretty conceits," which so offend our poet."

"To be sure," replied Mr. Barber, "we like some imagination in a preacher. I confess I am not fond of this dull prosing, and as there is no doubt that the public mind is changing in this respect, I do most earnestly desire that our public teachers may shape their performances to the spirit of the age. They may and will do much either to advance or retard the interests of literature in this country. They ought to be men not only of piety, but of talents and literature, who can call to their aid the researches and productions of literary and scientific men. Infidelity has in her ranks minds of vast growth-men whose natural and acquired abilities are of the highest order. They must be met by similar men, who can oppose talents to talents, learning to learning.

We are all agreed here," acquiesced Mr. Erskine, "some men must stand forth as defenders of the faith, who shall be able to lead to war" the sacramental hosts of God's elect, and meet the enemy