rests of time, and others which cast a deeper shade on the visions of eternity.

To begin with those which concern the individual, the destitution of essential happiness is one. Often has the backslider lost the enjoyment of religion, and pierced himself through with many sorrows, even before he began to apprehend his downward progress. Some sudden revelation of his character has brought to light a paucity of resources, a defection of experience, an unpreparedness for trial, wholly incompatible with a prosperous condition of piety. Perhaps, at the very season when the consolations of religion were needed, in all their power and glory, to counterbalance the decay of nature, and to maintain successfully the last strife of mortality, there has been detected a lack of resources, a disappointment of hope, a failure of faith, all but ruinous; and the parting testimony, which under other circumstances might have been instructive, and satisfactory, and encouraging to survivors, has rather ministered doubt, and gloom, and uncertainty.

The following is a case in point.

Under somewhat remarkable circumstances which it is unnecessary to explain, a young

man, whose former character had been anything but satisfactory, was seemingly brought to God. Like Manasseh among the thorns, amidst a series of providential visitations, he wakened up to the claims of religion, and found consolation and hope. For a considerable period his conduct attested his sincerity, and his rapid progress in experimental religion, brought, to the minds of many, the declaration of our Lord-"There are last, which shall be first; and there are first, which shall be last." At length, however, it became evident, to those who knew him best, that his piety was on the wane, and that, with him, growth in grace had become a thing of by-gone days. Still, there was nothing exceptionable in his general deportment. He always filled his place in the sanctuary; in the progress of religion, at home and abroad, he manifested an unabated interest; and in liberality and benevolence he was an example to others. But, as to spirituality of mind, there was a marked and evident declension.

About this time, and in the midst of increasing prosperity, he was overtaken by an affliction which, after a long course of alternation and anxiety, threatened a fatal issue. At this crisis, he inquired of me one day when I called to see

him, whether I had of late been satisfied with his religious character. My reply was such as he anticipated. "Ah," said he, "I have often felt that you suspected me, and I have deserved to feel it, for I am a miserable backslider." He then stated his conviction that the time of his departure was at hand; and, thinking it probable that we might never meet again, he expressed a wish to avail himself of that opportunity, to disclose the secret history of his religious profession. "I never intended," he said, "to mention it to mortal ear; and you are the only person to whom I shall tell the mournful tale. You will know how to use it, as a warning to others, when I am forgotten. "When I was converted, Here he became unable to proceed, and hiding his face with his hands, wept bitterly. After a considerable interval, he resumed-" Yes, I was converted, when I professed to be converted. I was perfectly sincere at the time; and now, yes, even now, I have a trembling hope which I would not barter for the universe. When I was converted, I resolved to devote three hours, every day of my life, to meditation and prayer. And, for more than a year, I kept my promise. I spent an hour in devotion, every morning,

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before I left my room; and again, before I retired to rest; and, that I might not offer to God that which cost me nothing, or pray when I was unfit for such an exercise, I usually selected an early part of the evening for that purpose. And, more than this, amidst all the cares and anxieties of my arduous profession, I managed, by good contrivance, to save another hour, for the same purpose, either at once or at intervals, in the middle of the day.

And

"At that time, I was a happy man. these repeated services, so far from proving a weariness to the flesh, were the joy and the rejoicing of my heart. Instead of finding them tedious, time never fled so swiftly as when I spent it in my closet. In fact, I longed for the intervening hours to depart, that I might be free to go thither again. But, at length, the spirit of the world came over me, and I began to calculate how much I was losing by all this devotion. This was an easy task, as in my case time was money. And then, I flattered myself that the more I could obtain, the more I should be enabled to contribute to the cause of God. Moreover, in looking round the church, I saw many maintaining a respectable profession of religion, who probably never spent an

hour in their closets at any one period of their lives. And I began to think that I might be able to keep my ground just as well as they. Accordingly, I made the attempt, and limited each service to three quarters of an hour. After I had pursued this plan, for six months or more, I endeavoured to persuade myself that I was nothing the worse for the change. I then took courage to proceed yet further, and reduced each service to half an hour. But, my course was still from bad to worse; and though I never, from the first day until now, have, during ordinary circumstances, neglected to retire for prayer,-morning, noon, and night,— at last, my devotions became so cold and my soul so lifeless, that I have, many a time, felt glad when the service was over, and my conscience was laid to rest. And now, I am going into the presence of Him who died for me; and, what shall I say there? Oh, my poor, unprofitable life!"

He paused, and again he wept. I endeavoured to remind him that the acceptance of a sinner, and even the justification of a saint, depends not on the length or fervour of his prayers, nor on the value of his services, but on his faith in the great sacrifice for transgres