diligently and constantly; and attend them under this impression, that, except by a divine blessing you obtain repentance and faith through them, you can have no hope of life; but you must live an endless life of misery.

Let me address also those who are in the habit of attending public worship. I must press on you also the consideration of the same subject. You do right in frequenting the means; but you awfully deceive yourselves if you rest satisfied with merely frequenting them-if you have no more in view than mere attendance. Too much, I know, is this the case with many they have nothing more in view than to do as their neighbours, or as their forefathers. Their case is not much better than that of those who entirely neglect the means; and if they die in this state, it is not in any degree better; their portion shall be the same— misery that never ends. You hear of repentance, and of faith, but you never seek the one or the other; you never labour for them. The principal business of every sinful creature, you neglect. The great end of all that is done in this place, you have never sought nor attained. You are deficient in the main thing, and all your other work will come to nothing. O continue no longer to act and live in this manner! Seek now true repentance and true faith as the first things; for without them, whatever else you may have, you cannot be saved; it is impossible that you can ever attain the felicities of heaven.

I come now to those who have not been frequenting the house of God in vain; but who have already obtained repentance, and have already possessed faith. What I have to say to you is this, go daily to that fountain whence have proceeded all these blessings; yea, go frequently and constantly, for your need is a continual need. You want clearer views of God, of your own sinfulness, of our glo

rious Saviour and of his all-sufficiency; and there is no way to obtain these, but by having intercourse with God, the only source of good. Use the means of grace regularly, but still as means. Have always in view the great end, namely, the conformity of your will, of your heart and mind, to the will of God; who willeth that you should repent of sin, and believe in his Son Jesus Christ.

In closing my present address, I would say, bear in mind what you have heard from your preceding ministers, and be constant and willing hearers of those who succeed them. Remember, that our object is your good--your eternal good; it is, that you may repent and believe in Christ Jesus, and be thereby saved. Pray also for your ministers, that God may help, guide, and teach them; that they also may be able to help, guide, and teach you. Remember, the success of the Gospel depends altogether on the blessing of God: be instant, then, in prayer; let your supplications frequently ascend before the throne of grace; and that not only for your own ministers, but for all that faithfully preach the Gospel, and for the individual that now addresses you.

And, lastly, value your privileges. Consider how highly favoured you are. You have the prospect of having the joyful sound continued among you; of having the pure Gospel preached to you. This is a greater blessing than any of an earthly kind. Be thankful to God for it; it is owing to the gracious dispensation of his providence; and show that you thankful by a constant attendance at his house, and by a conduct worthy of the Gospel. Now, my brethren, may the God of peace make you perfect in every good work to do his will, working in you that which is well pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ; to whom be glory, for ever and ever! Amen.

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I HAVE read, Mr. Editor, with great pleasure and edification, many of the letters of Aliquis in your interesting publication: especially those in which he mentions the benefits arising from educating poor children; and to some of which he has had the unspeakable satisfaction of being an eye-witness. I have very frequently, Sir, taken up your publication on the Saturday evening, with a view to have my hopes raised in, and my will more strongly inclined to, the work of the ministry on the following holy day. I have been in the habit of attending a school on the Sunday mornings, and explaining, in the best way I could, with simplicity and affection, the excellent collects of our Church; and, occasionally, the Catechism. Now, Sir, the statements of Aliquis have often given me a fresh impulse in this work, and encouraged me to entertain a hope, that my feeble and imperfect lefforts would not be in vain. Lately, however, I have had the pleasure to become personally acquainted with the benefits arising out of such charitable works,-evidenced in a case peculiarly interesting: and having a desire, that the hands of those, who give themselves to the good work of educating poor children in Christian principles, should be strengthened, that they should cast, with a brighter hope, their bread upon the waters, I am induced to communicate the same to you; trusting that you will not deem it unworthy of admission into your excellent publication.

In the month of June last I was requested, by the mistress of the parish workhouse, to visit a poor man, who, she said, wished to have a few prayers offered up for him. When thus invited, Sir, I am free to confess I feel generally an oppression of spirits; for I or

dinarily find attending the sick a very arduous part of the ministerial duty, calling for great wisdom, prudence, and fidelity: and, added to these difficulties, I have too often had to contend against self-righteous hopes; too often met with minds totally ignorant of true religion; and have too seldom found the broken heart that needed only to be bound up, or the faith that required only confirming and strengthening. With expectations not the most encouraging, I entered the room where the sick man was; and, in a few moments, was relieved of my burden; for I had the happiness to find him to be one who was bowed down with the sense of his manifold transgressions. He had been a sailor; and though he had avoided bad company, after which, to use his own words, "he had no liking," and had not been addicted to swearing, yet his mind was greatly troubled on account of his sins: he was cast down, and said, he felt himself unworthy of heaven. I need not detail what course I pursued to lead him to the knowledge of our blessed Redeemer. I would only say, that he heard me with deep attention and anxiety. On the following day I found him somewhat relieved, yet very anxious to know how to pray aright. He said, "I pray, in my poor way, as well as I can; Lord have mercy upon me, a wicked sinner! The invitation of our blessed Lord, to the weary and heavy laden, was explained to him, and he laid his hand on his heart to express the consolation it afforded him. He had long been sowing in tears, and the time was now arriving that he should reap in joy. To visit him was a pleasure; for I had but to pour in the oil and wine of the consolations of the Gospel into his wounded spirit. He declared he

had found peace in thinking of Jesus, our Saviour, and in reading the Scriptures; which he declared to me he read till tears obliged him to leave off. I perceived, however, that he was still unhappy; and I asked him the cause, and urged him to open his heart fully to me as to a friend. The cause of his sorrow, he then told me, was a broken vow, forgetting God after a marvellous deliverance. At this, I requested him to tell me his history, thinking the knowledge of it might be made serviceable to others. This he did very willingly: and he informed me, that he was left an orphan when he was only seven years of age; his father and mother both dying at that time. That the clergyman of the parish took pity on him, and placed him in the parish-school; and not only so, but had him to his house in the week to teach him, to hear him read in the Bible, and to take care of him. I asked him what he thought of being able to read? He replied, "I consider it greater than any of this world's blessings;" " and then, after a pause; "but there are no blessings in this world; it is a world of sorrow: for he, poor fellow, had drank deeply of the cup of affliction; having wandered, as a solitary being, throughout the world; and having, through great folly, tasted too soon of the heritage of man. For," he added, like other foolish children, I undervalued learning, and ran away and went But the good work of this benevolent clergyman was not lost upon him; he had gained habits he could not entirely overcome; he had learnt lessons he could not altogether forget. Though he had no Bible, and no desire to read one, yet he could not omit his morning and evening prayers in his hammock. He did not swear, but checked those who did; affording an instance of the truth

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to sea.

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of the Rev. Mr. Cecil's remarks, of the unspeakable importance of the early implantation of principles, when culled from time to time out of the Bible. A man can seldom get rid of these principles. They stand in his way. He wishes to forget them perhaps; but it is impossible. They hang on the wheels of evil." Thus poor J. B. was preserved from much evil. Only once did he meet, in his voyages, with a pious sailor; who, however, was the scorn of all the crew; yet, nevertheless, read his Bible. This, he said, was a comfort to him. Though the good works of this sailor condemned himself, yet he could not revile him as the rest did, for he knew he was doing what was right. How great a blessing, even then, was the little instruction that he had received, to this wandering sheep! His conscience hereby was kept awake, and he was saved from that awful sleep in sin, which too often, we fear, precedes eternal death; and he was kept thereby from sitting in the seat of the scornful. But the light, though greatly eclipsed by the darkness of his sinful heart, became his comfort in an awful hour; for on the coast of Prussia, in another voyage, at four o'clock in the morning, he was shipwrecked, and was the only one who was saved of all that were on board. That time he prayed mightily for deliverance, and vowed, I believe, to serve God for ever afterwards, should it please him to deliver him; and then, as far as he knew, "God Almighty alone knew," on a piece of the wreck he got on shore. Here again he offered up his prayers; and then, binding his head round, laid down on the solitary beach, two miles distant from any abode. On awaking from his sleep, to his surprise he found a woman putting a small spoon into his mouth, from whom, and others,