nevertheless, extremely useful to him. For, being now in a condition to enjoy the moral benefit which results from the sobering down of the passions, he was able to measure, by means of those passing deviations from rectitude, the utter worthlessness of those pleasures which till now he had pursued with so much ardour. This discovery, however, aggravated his troubles. For, convinced on one hand of the vanity of pleasures in this world, and on the other having secretly the utmost distaste of a godly life, he could find no place of rest. If he turned towards terrestrial joys, they awoke in him recollections which drove him from them with disgust; if he turned towards religion, there were a thousand revolting circumstances which hindered him from flinging himself into her arms.

During the other days of the week, occupied with the engagements of his calling, he endured the burden with less sense of weariness. But, on the Sunday! what should he do through that endless Sabbath? with what loathing did he anticipate its approach! It cast indeed a hideous shadow, as it drew near, over the two or three last days of the week. But what could he do? he could not escape it. The only thing was to spend it as painlessly as possible. At last he made up his mind to wander about the country from morning to night. It was, it seemed to him, the best way of killing time, and escaping a course of questioning in but little accord with his inclination. By this means, no doubt, he succeeded sometimes in causing the long hours of that wearying repose to flow more rapidly along; but he did not altogether escape those remarks from which he shrank so much. The tender mother was ever at hand, like a vigilant sentinel, and the moment he crossed the threshold, he found himself overwhelmed by her affectionate reproaches.

"You know, my son," said she, "that this is the Sabbath of the Lord your God; nevertheless, you profane it; you violate the law of the Lord; have you thought of that?" O how piercing were these reproaches! how they penetrated the very recesses of his conscience!

In a moment of anger, mingled with a wringing despair, he exclaimed, "What shall I, what can I, do? I am the most wretched of men. If I go to the café, your remonstrances arrest me on the threshold; if I enter, they pursue me, and fill me with agitation. Everywhere your counsels and your exhortations come and poison all my enjoyments. O how wretched, how wretched I am!"

"Be that as it may," replied Madame Jaulmes with calmness, but with an emotion which may be understood, "I shall not have on the great day the bitter regret of having neglected to warn you; for, as you know, these are warnings that I give you."

"Yes, I know it," he replied, in a bitter tone; "but what I know none the less is, that your words have more weight with me than the most vigorous bonds or chastisements could have."

Meanwhile the forced retreat during the days of mourning brought forth its fruits. Obliged to make a truce with pleasure, the fervour of passion began to tone down, and left more room for reflection; and, without its being perceived by himself or his friends, a thorough and radical change was taking place, and a circumstance was about to happen which was to hasten its manifestation.

The period of deep mourning had passed away, and the time had arrived when the bereaved are permitted by custom, by little and little, to return again to their wonted pleasures and amusements. At this time a circumstance occurred which would afford to Louis a favourable opportunity for

quitting his seclusion. A marriage was about to take place in his family. Now then came the hour of trial. Would he take advantage of it in order to fling himself once more into the midst of his numerous friends? or, on the other hand, in obedience to the voice of his God, and urged by past experiences, would he bid adieu for ever to the vanities and follies of the world? The temptation was indeed a strong one.

Madame Jaulmes felt that it must be so. She trembled when she thought of the decision which he would soon be called upon by circumstances to make. But what could she do? It seemed to her that she had already exhausted every resource without avail, and that now she had no reason to expect better success. But there is One whose help the earnest Christian never seeks in vain; and to Him she turned.

She

prayed as only a mother can pray, when she beholds her child in deadly danger. Meanwhile, means were not neglected. She strove to impress him with the serious nature of his present situation, with the tremendous weight of the consequences, fortunate or miserable, which might result from the decision he then made. She reminded him of all the earnest exhortations of the past; she reminded him of the words which God Himself had spoken; she omitted nothing which could by any means turn the scale on the side on which his dearest and most vital interests lay.

The mental conflict that Louis had undergone during the season of mourning, the moral calm he then possessed, and, more than all, the sensible development of his views with regard to the Divine claims upon him, all tended to induce him to ponder most thoughtfully these exhortations, and to lend a willing ear to the inward voice of the Holy Spirit of God. Persuaded that on his present determination, perhaps,

depended the salvation of his soul, he set himself seriously to "ponder the path of his feet."

At length the day of decision has arrived. Nothing has, however, yet been determined on. "This evening," he said, "this evening will be the decisive moment." How solemnly did these words sound in the ears of her who was awaiting the issue with such intense anxiety. "This evening,' did he say, 'this evening will be the decisive moment?' O, my God, complete Thy work!"

She spoke, and, accompanied by another of her boys who had been already converted, though younger than Louis, she went, in extreme agitation, and cast herself on her knees before her Lord, and besought Him to-day to deliver the object of her emotions out of the snare of the devil, and to lead him to forsake for ever the path he had so long trodden. "Let him feel, O Eternal Lord!" she cried, the tears streaming from her eyes, "O let this hesitating heart now feel the power of Thy grace! Hast Thou not said, 'Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I will deliver thee?' Out of the depths we call upon Thee, O Lord! Deliver then, we beseech, we implore Thee, O Lord, this soul, so precious to us, from the danger which threatens him to-day!"

A prayer so full of ardour, so full of love, so full of trust, could not but be soon answered. Hardly had the clock warned to strike the hour than all indecision vanished away, every fear was gone, and an indomitable resolution took possession of the mind of the firstborn son. He took part with his family in that repast which had been sanctioned by the Lord Jesus in Cana of Galilee, but he refused to join in those pastimes by which it was followed. It was indeed "the decisive moment." From that day all his energies were directed to those realities

which belong to the world to come ; and the pursuit was not again abandoned.

It must, notwithstanding, be acknowledged that the work of God in this soul was still in its infancy, and there was some reason to fear that, as in past times, so now, a little raillery or other unfavourable breeze would put in peril the bark which, with so many prayers, and anxieties, and tears, had been launched upon the ocean of a religious life. But it was His to complete who had already begun this good work. It was in the order of His farseeing and all wise providence that the decision, the history of which has just been related, should almost coincide with the epoch of his first communion.

A certain amount of seclusion is customary at this period. Louis was therefore enabled, under cover of this custom, to still absent himself from his old friends without his doing so calling forth any special notice; and thus he escaped a crowd of questions which would have been intensely embarrassing to him in his weak faith, and in the infancy of his spiritual life. God knows how injurious to the young and tender plant are the rays of a burning sun. During this period the study of the catechism, the reading of the Bible, and of some religious books exercised the most favourable influence in giving strength and development to his new-born convictions. Thus good and holy dispositions and habits were every day making more progress with him. He began to enjoy the happiness of the faith he had chosen; it was possessing for him a pleasing and a growing charm. Already he felt prepared to follow his Master in "evil report" as well as in "good report."

And now came the day of his first communion. Jaulmes was by this time a serious and earnest minded young man. He thoroughly understood the nature of the Lord's Supper, and to partake of it was, in his view, an act

of the highest moment; and so the trifling and impious conduct of his old companions filled his mind with horror. The promises exacted from the first communicant were, in his view, most real and solemn engagements. He therefore prepared for it by thoughtful study, earnest prayer, serious meditation and retirement; yet, when the moment came for him to declare his vow, his courage failed him: he was silent. "To promise," said he, "to renounce the world and all its pomp, the flesh and all its lusts, the devil and all his works, one must have good confidence in oneself." At the detail of such sentiments as these it will not be wondered at that his heart should be moved with the deepest sorrow for the scoffing hypocrisy of those who presented themselves, like fools, around the holy table to bind themselves by promises to the Most High which they fully intended to violate from that very evening.

Louis now began to make rapid progress; so rapid indeed, that in a short time he could brave all the hard things that might be said or thought of him. He at once, therefore, began to frequent those religious assemblies which he had for so long a time abandoned. He did more. Renewing once more his old relationship with the preachers of that body of professing Christians to which he belonged, he accompanied them, from Sunday to Sunday, to the neighbouring villages, in order to profit by their edifying and instructive conversations.

At length the time arrived when the seed, which had so long ago been cast into the earth, was to spring forth above the surface of the soil in the form of the tender blade. It was evening; after public worship, a long conversation was taking place between himself and the Pastor stationed at Congénies. It was the habit of this good man to close his conversations

by prayer. But now, after having earnestly recommended his young penitent to that God from whom all good things do come, he urged him to pray likewise. "O how well I recollect that evening!" he wrote, about a year afterwards; "how plainly do I now see that the Saviour was working within me, and was drawing me, by little and little, towards Himself, in order to save me! His holy Name be for ever praised!" And in fact this circumstance made an abiding impression upon Louis. It was to him indeed a noteworthy event in his life; so that, when he returned home, all the members of the family perceived, by his bearing, and the expression of his countenance, that something new had penetrated into his soul.

As soon as it became evident that Louis was determined to walk in the path of life, he was introduced into one of those little circles of brethren which are found among the Moravians and Methodists. Here he met with some young people of about his own age, and his intercourse with them was most advantageous, in both enlightening and encouraging him, and consequently in enabling him to make advances in the paths of salvation.

And this he now does with no halting steps, he presses onwards with firm and rapid movement: the way to him is clear, and now without embarrassment. Before he started he had to encounter, as we have already seen, a multitude of obstacles which, to him, seemed impassable; but no sooner has he taken some steps upon the heavenly road, than difficulties, both real and imagined, disappear as a mist before the rising

sun.

And now he is filled with holy courage and zeal, so that he soon begins to lead the prayers of the public assemblies.

The first time he did so was on a most solemn occasion. Let the reader picture to himself a young man of

some nineteen summers, who had been plunged but the night before, so to speak, in the most desperate state of heedlessness and unbelief, sending forth to heaven, from the bosom of that silent assembly, a voice trembling with emotion, couched in the following entreaty full of the tenderest feeling :

"Lord, this shall be my anxious prayer, And my most ardent vow, That I may have a Father's care,

And be Thy child from now. And now I know that but in Thee

Is any peace in life;

And when from Thy yoke I am free,

I've care and wretched strife."

Such was his prayer? Truly it was that of a soul turned towards heaven for pardon and peace; the cry of a heart in travail, the suppliant hymn of a prodigal son.

He had not long to wait for its answer. A few days had hardly passed away, when having shut his closet-door from within, and appealed to his Lord with the same petition couched in somewhat different words, he received from on high the witness of his peace with his Heavenly Father. And now, from henceforth, he could say with St. Paul, "Being justified by faith, we have peace with God." 'Peace," no longer "condemnation;" no longer fear, but the hope, the assurance of pardon and everlasting salvation.

"O what a happy service is the service of my Lord!" he wrote, a few days after this, to a friend. "I can truly say I am a thousand thousand times happier in His service than ever I was in the service of the world. Yes; my sins have been forgiven, I have been adopted into the family of God. Praised for ever be His most holy Name!

How wonderful is the Almighty in the working of His providence; what wisdom, what goodness, what tenderness did He not manifest towards this soul in leading it to repentance and

regeneration! And who would not confide their children to His guardianship by daily, persevering prayer; and who, henceforth, will dare to despair

of them even in the midst of their greatest wanderings! Be courageous, then, ye parents who love and serve the Lord. "Fear not, only believe."

AIDS FOR A SUNDAY - SCHOOL ADDRESS.

"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." (Psalm cxix. 105.)

AT an evening service in one of the London Ritualistic churches a wax candle was put into the hands of some hundreds of the congregation, the officiating priest telling them that the candles had been "blessed," and must be carefully kept till their dying hour to light them through the valley of death. But we know of a Light better than any wax candle,-the Word of God. This lamp is necessary on account of the darkness of the way. No man who is travelling in broad daylight over a plain path, burdens himself with a lantern. Consider, I pray you, how little you know of the road through this life to that which is to come. Without this "light to lighten our darkness," we cannot tell where we may end our journey. The road is easily lost, not always easily found; often we come to a standstill in perplexity, paths seem to lead in all directions; some at first running parallel to the good way, but twisting and branching in terrible confusion soon after we have committed ourselves to them. Not only is the track thus difficult, but new and unforeseen perils are constantly surrounding us. We are warned to "walk circumspectly," literally, to look about us, and to look well to the ways of our feet. For "the wicked have laid a snare," they have "digged pits" for the soul of the upright. Sometimes we hear the sad lament, "The bands of the wicked have robbed me." Sometimes we fear to "sink in deep mire, where there is no standing." The way is infested by "noisome beasts," "a roaring lion," "grievous wolves," "that old serpent," "foxes, poisonous asps, dogs." "Dangers stand thick o'er all the ground." We must travel this

Before the light of God's Holy Book many of the difficulties seem to retire at once. Our eyes are opened to see what the darkness hid from us, that the Lord is holding out His hand, which, if we grasp it in faith, will so hold us up, that our footsteps slip not. The snares and pits which were so artfully contrived for our hurt, are clearly pointed out to us; while those who made them have themselves fallen victims. In every time of distress "the angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear Him, and delivereth them."

If a lamp is to be of any use to our feet, it must be held down. How often do we take our Bibles, and read a portion without appropriating a single line. We may admire the language, be interested in the narrative, or feel our souls stirred within us at the lofty imagery; and yet go to our daily task without any fresh encouragement, warning, or precept. A star above our heads may be a most beautiful object, and of immense size, yet a tiny lantern held in the hand will be a safer light to walk by.

If the Scriptures are to throw a light upon our daily life, they should be read with direct reference to it. Let us each morning consider in what direction the journey lies for the present day, what are the temptations most likely to arise, and what opportunities for good will present themselves. Then let us bring the Bible down to our life, that we may bring our life up to the Bible. If after careful consideration and prayer nothing applicable to our wants should appear in the portion