"Tell me, dear G., would you work less pleasantly through the day,-would you walk the streets with a more doleful step-would you eat your meat with less gladness of heart-would you sleep less tranquilly at night, if you had the forgiveness of sins-that is, if all your wicked thoughts and deeds, lies, thefts, and Sabbath breakings, were all blotted out of God's book of remembrance? Would this make you less happy, do you think? You dare not say it would. But would the forgiveness of sins not make you more happy than you are? Perhaps you will tell me that you are very happy as you are; I quite believe you. I know that I was very happy, when I was unforgiven. I know that I had great pleasure in many sins-in Sabbath breaking, for instance. Many a delightful walk I have had, speaking my own words, thinking my own thoughts, and seeking my own pleasure ou God's holy day. I fancy few boys were ever happier in an unconverted state than I was. No sorrow clouded my brow-no tears filled my eyes, unless over some new story book; so that I know you say quite true, when you say that you are happy as you are. But ah, is not this just the saddest thing of all, that you should be happy whilst you are a child of wrath; that you should smile, and eat, and drink, and be merry, and sleep sound, when this very night you may be in hell? Happy, while unforgiven!—a terrible happiness. It is like the Hindoo widow, who sits upon the funeral pile with her dead husband, and sings songs of joy when they are setting fire to the wood with which she is to be burned. Yes, you may be quite happy in this way, till you die, my boy; but when you look back from hell, you will say, it was a miserable kind of happiness. Now do you think it would not give you more happiness to be forgiven, to be able to put on Jesus, and say, God's anger is turned away? Would not you be happier at work, and happier in the house, and happier in your bed? I can assure you from all that ever I have felt of it, the pleasures of being forgiven are as superior to the pleasures of an unforgiven man, as heaven is higher than hell. The peace of being forgiven reminds me of the calm, blue sky, which no earthly clamors can disturb. It lightens all labor, sweetens every morsel of bread, and makes a sick bed all soft and downyyea, it takes away the scowl of death. Now, forgiveness may be yours now. It is not given to those who are good. It is not given to any because they are less wicked than others. It is given only to those who, feeling that their sins have brought a curse on them which they cannot lift off, look unto Jesus,' as bearing all away.

"Now, my dear boy, I have no wish to weary you. If you are any thing like what I was, you will have yawned many a time already over this letter. However, if the Lord deal graciously with you, and touch your young heart, as I pray he may, with a desire to be forgiven, and to be made a child of God, perhaps you will not take ill what I have written to you in much haste. As this is the first time you have been away from home, perhaps you have not learned to write letters yet; but if you have, I would like to hear from you,― how you come on-what convictions you feel, if you feel any-what difficulties-what parts of the Bible puzzle you; and then I would do my best to unravel them. You read your Bible regularly, of 50*

VOL. XIII.-NO. LII.

course; but do try and understand it, and still more, to feel it. Read more parts than one at a time. For example, if you are reading Genesis, read a psalm also; or, if you are reading Matthew, read a small bit of an epistle also. Turn the Bible into prayer. Thus, if you are reading the first Psalm, spread the Bible on the chair before you, and kneel, and pray, 'O, Lord, give me the blessedness of the man,' etc. 'Let me not stand in the counsel of the ungodly,' etc. This is the best way of knowing the meaning of the Bible, and of learning to pray. In prayer, confess your sins by name-going over those of the past day, one by one. Pray for your friends by namefather, mother, etc. If you love them, surely you will pray for their souls. I know well that there are prayers constantly ascending for you from your own house; and will you not pray for them back again? Do this regularly. If you pray sincerely for others, it will make you pray for yourself."

Such a letter as this indicates a good pastor. A good pastor enters into the feelings of his parishioners. He is interested in the events which vary their destiny; every change in their condition he makes an occasion of seeking, in some new way, their spiritual good. And, having exhausted upon his hearers all his ability and influence in the pulpit and in private conversation, he addresses them in friendly letters, showing his interest in them when he is absent from them, and, though they are beyond the sphere of his daily efforts, still striving to do them good.

It was in August, 1836, that Mr. McCheyne, first preached as a candidate at St. Peter's church, Dundee, the place of his ordination, and the scene of his principal labors. From the very commencement, his efforts there were crowned with success. Whether it was owing to the peculiar deadness of the people before his coming, or to the persuasive power of his eloquence, or to the impressive and affecting manner in which he stated and urged the truths of the gospel upon men's consciences, or to all these things combined, together with a divine overshadowing of the Holy Ghost,-it is certain that he seemed to have arisen in the spirit of Whitefield. Wherever he preached, divine truth seemed to come from his lips, armed with peculiar power. The hardness of human hearts melted away before him. Worldly carelessness and unconcern were displaced by deep anxiety. And, under his faithful ministry, the gathering of souls to Jesus Christ was like the hurrying of clouds, or the flocking of doves to their windows. The divine unction with which he spoke was new, even in Scotland. He was, to use the

language of Brainerd, "like a flame of fire in his Master's service." His work was to be soon finished; and it seemed as if through the foreshadowing of the event of his early demise, he was made, under God, the more laborious, faithful and successful, because he was appointed to gather the sheaves of his harvest while it was yet high-day, and ere the noon to rest from his labors.

We cannot trace him, at present, through his various labors, in his own parish, and in the neighboring parishes on sacramental and other occasions. It is an interesting fact that he preached his first sermon as pastor at Dundee from the words of Isaiah (61: 1),-"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because he hath annointed me to preach," etc.—and continued to preach from the same words at every anniversary of his ordination afterwards. He exhibited every year some new view of the text, and joined with his discussion such historical facts. as belonged to the successive years. We cannot but admire the perpetual recurrence to this consecrated point in his life, as to a stone of memorial,-a custom adapted to call forth his fervent gratitude, and at the same time to summon him to self-examination, and to recal to memory in a solemn manner his ordination vows. The record in his journal on the evening of the day when he thus entered on his labors is characteristic, and lets us into the secret of his subsequent success, "Felt given over to God, as one bought with a price."

Before dismissing this topic,-the secret of his ministerial success, we will present a few extracts from the volume before us, at the same time showing his devotedness, and admonishing those who are engaged in the same employments. In speaking of the personal religious character of Mr. McCheyne, the author writes as follows:

"What we have seen of his manner of study and self-examination at Larbert, is sufficient to show in what a state of cultivation his soul was kept; and his habits in these respects continued with him to the last. Jeremy Taylor recommends,— If thou meanest to enlarge thy religion, do it rather by enlarging thine ordinary devotions than thy extraordinary.' This advice describes very accurately the plan of spiritual life on which Mr. McCheyne acted. He did occasionally set apart seasons for special prayer and fasting, occupying the time so set apart exclusively in devotion. But the real secret of his soul's prosperity lay in the daily enlargement of his heart in fellowship with God. And the river deepened as it flowed on to eternity; so

that he at last reached that feature of a holy pastor which Paul pointed out to Timothy (iv, 15),—' His profiting did appear to all.'”

His constant faithfulness is thus exhibited, on a subsequent page, by the author.

"There was still another means of enforcing what he preached, in the use of which he has excelled all his brethren, namely, the holy consistency of his daily walk. Aware that one idle word, one needless contention, one covetous act, may destroy in our people the effect of many a solemn expostulation and earnest warning, be was peculiarly circumspect in his every-day walk. He wished to be always in the presence of God. If he travelled, he labored to enjoy God by the way, as well as to do good to others by dropping a word in season. In riding or walking, he seized opportunities of giving a useful tract; and, on principle, he preferred giving it to the person directly, rather than casting it on the road. The former way, he said, was more open-there was no stealth in it-and we ought to be as clear as crystal, in speaking or acting for Jesus. In writing a note, however short, he sought to season it with salt. If he passed a night in a strange place, he tried to bear the place specially on his soul at the mercy-seat; and if compelled to take some rest from his too exhausting toils, his recreations were little else than a change of occupation, from one mode of glorifying God to another."

The author proceeds at this point to a series of remarks, illustrating the character of the subject of the memoir, and at the same time exhibiting the close connection between ministerial devotedness and success. We earnestly commend them, particularly to our clerical readers. They contain principles of vital consequence to the prosperity of the ministry, and to the welfare of our fellow-men.

We present an extract as a specimen of the manner in which he endeavored to be useful to his hearers by personal faithfulness to them, not only in the pulpit, but also by letters. The extract is part of a letter written to some of his flock, who on one occasion apprehended that he thought of leaving Dundee, and who wrote to him remonstrating against such a purpose. He says:

"A minister will make a poor Saviour in the day of wrath. It is not knowing a minister, or loving one, or hearing one, or having a name to live, that will save. You need to have your hand on the head of the Lamb for yourselves, Lev. 1: 4. You need to have your eye on the brazen serpent for yourselves, John 3: 14, 15. I fear I will need to be a swift witness against many of my people in the day of the Lord, that they looked to me and not to Christ, when I preached to them. I always feared that some of you loved to hear the word,

who do not love to do it. I always feared there were many of you who loved the Sabbath meetings, and the class, and the Thursday evenings, who yet were not careful to walk with God, to be meek, chaste, holy, loving, harmless, Christlike, Godlike. Now, God wants you to think that the only end of a gospel ministry is, that you may be holy. Believe me, God himself could not make you happy, except you be holy."

We have spoken of the Scottish communion seasons. Both the theory of them, and the manner in which they are actually conducted in Scotland, commend them in the strongest manner to our regards. After the many exhibitions which the world furnishes of a cold, heartless, and fashionable religion, it is truly refreshing to read such a description of its living and glowing spirit as appears in the following account of one of his sacramental occasions. How can such exercises fail to be attended with the most benign results to the piety of those who participate in them?

"January 19, 1840. Stormy morning, with gushing torrents of rain, but cleared up in answer to prayer. Sweet union in prayer with Mr. Cumming, and afterwards with A. Bonar. Found God in secret. Asked especially that the very sight of the broken bread and poured-out wine might be blessed to some souls; then pride will be hidden from man. Church well filled-many standing. Preached the action sermon on John 17: 24, 'Father, I will,' etc. Had considerable nearness to God in prayer-more than usual—and also freedom in preaching, although I was ashamed of such poor views of Christ's glory. The people were in a very desirable frame of attention-hanging on the word. Felt great help in fencing the table, from Acts 5: 3, Lying to the Holy Ghost.' Came down and served the first table with much more calmness and collectedness than ever I remember to have enjoyed. Enjoyed a sweet season while A. B. served the next table. He dwelt chiefly on believing the words of Christ about his fulness and the promise of the Father. There were six tables altogether. The people more and more moved to the end. At the last table every head seemed bent like a bulrush, while A. B. spoke of the ascension of Christ. Helped a little in the address, 'Now to him that is able to keep you,' etc., and in the concluding prayer. One little boy in retiring said, 'This has been another bonnie day. Many of the little ones seemed deeply attentive. Mr. Cumming and Mr. Burns preached in the school the most of the day. In the evening, Mr. C. preached on the Pillar Cloud on every dwelling, Is. 4: 5, some very sweet, powerful words. When the church emptied, a congregation formed in the lower school, and began to sing. Sang several psalms with them, and spoke on 'Behold I stand at the door.' Going home, A. D. said, 'Pray for me; I am quite happy, and so is H.' Altogether a day of the revelation of Christ,