character, and according to the course which you pursue. As intelligent creatures,—as accountable beings,—as living under the reign of mercy and in the land of hope, we address you. There There is merit in the You may be saved now. We know of nothing to hinder it. is mercy with God, that he may be feared. sacrifice of Jesus, that it may be trusted. the gospel invitation, that it may be accepted. the promise of God, that you may rely on it. office; he calls you to his feet; he promises to receive you. He has saved many such as you; he is saving some now; he will not refuse you, for he never refuses any one that applies. You may be made happy now. Happiness flows from grace, and grace comes from God. You cannot be made happy without becoming acquainted with God. He must pardon your sins, give you his peace, apply to you his word, send you his Holy Spirit, and then you will be happy. These blessings will satisfy the craving of your nature, and make you cheerful under all circumstances. No happiness without pardon. No pardon without the knowledge of God. No true knowledge of God without faith in Christ. There is no necessity for you to be unhappy. God can make you happy, and he is willing to do so. You may be safe and peaceful in death. You may have a pure conscience, a sound judgment, a sanctified heart, and a bright prospect of eternal glory. If you seek the Lord now,—if you set your affections on things above,-if you make God's glory the end of your life,and if you daily seek grace for a dying hour, you will find that at death you will have nothing to fear; in eternity you will see nothing to dread. The Holy Spirit will comfort you, the promises will support you, and the thought of being for ever with the Lord will sweetly delight your soul. You may have a happy death-bed; for God has said, "Them that honour me, I will honour." You may be glorious in eternity. Yes, you who are now so poor, so illiterate, so tried; for it does not require wealth, learning, or prosperity, to make you so. If you have only faith in Jesus,—if you walk in fellowship with God,-if you aim to do good to your fellowcreatures, you will shine like the sun in the kingdom of your Father. Many a poor mechanic is there already. Many such as you are, are now on the road. Many more will follow; for God hath chosen the poor of this world, who are rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom. You may obtain a place in heaven. You may acquire a meetness for the inheritance of the saints in light; for "every one that asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth." Well, what will you be? You see what you may be; but if you neglect your salvation,-if you despise your own soul,-if you slight the gospel,—if you prefer living in sin, you will be unhappy in life, miserable in death, and unutterably wretched throughout eternity. You may be saved; but if you yield to Satan you will be lost. You may be happy; but if you prefer sin to holiness, you never will. You may be peaceful in death; but if you walk according to the course of this world, you cannot be. You may be glorious in eternity; but if you walk with the multitude in the broad road, you will be clothed with shame and everlasting contempt. My dear fellow-immortal, think of these things, pray over these things, and set your heart upon being saved in the Lord with an everlasting salvation. Narratives, Anecdotes, &c. QUENCH NOT THE SPIRIT. Such is the solemn warning of God-such also is the earnest remonstrance of every good man; how many painful facts also repeat the same urgent admonition! How many undone souls, alas, now in final ruin, could they only be heard, would be found uttering the same exclamation, “Oh, quench not the Spirit!" "My dear children,” said an old man, the words of your dying father will be few. I wish them to sink deep into your hearts." Then raising himself a little in his bed, with a degree of strength which he had not been able to command for several weeks, he proceeded, "When I was young, I enjoyed many religious privileges, and was the subject of occasional serious reflections. When just entering my SIXTEENTH YEAR religious impressions were made on my mind with unusual force. I seemed to hear a voice continually saying to me, SEEK RELIGION NOW. I became consequently unhappy: amusements lost their relish. Still I was unwilling wholly to relinquish them, and obey the voice which urged me to seek my Saviour early. One day, after much reflection, I deliberately promised to God, that, as soon as the season of youthful amusement was past, I would then give myself up to religious pursuits. This resolution dismissed my anxieties; I returned to my frivolities again. When at the age of TWENTY-FIVE, the monitory voice, which had been hushed for nearly ten years, returned; it reminded me of my promise, and again pressed on me the importance of eternal things. Though I had scarcely ever thought of my promise for years, I could not but acknowledge its obligations; but an immediate fulfilment seemed more impracticable than before. I vowed, however, again, with increased solemnity, that after the cares of a rising family should subside, I would certainly attend to the concerns of religion. "Once more I applied myself to worldly avocations, and once more buried all thoughts of my duty to God. Oh, the long-suffering of that merciful Being who spared my life,-who continued my health,who opened my way in business, and whose goodness might have led me to repentance; but, alas, I refused to yield to his heavenly call ! At the age of FIFTY, when you, my dear children, were diminishing instead of increasing my cares, this holy monitor again returned. 'Fulfil your promise-seek religion now,' was continually urging itself upon my mind. I could not deny the pledge I had given, but still I felt dissatisfied that its fulfilment should be claimed so soon. gretted, indeed, that I had not attended to the subject before, when it would have been less difficult; but such was the extent and pres I re sure of my business, that to do it then seemed impossible. I became very uneasy, and, after much deliberation, I sought relief to my troubled feelings by most solemnly renewing my promise to God. I remember with what apparent decision I said, 'When a few months enable me to get released from my harassing concerns, when my worldly affairs are more nearly arranged, I will devote my undivided attention to a preparation for eternity.' "No sooner had I fixed my mind on this course than I felt relieved -THE STRIVINGS OF THE SPIRIT AGAIN CEASED IN MY BOSOM, AND CEASED FOR EVER! I had become joined to my idols, and he let me alone. True, indeed, after this, I had several misgivings of conscience, but these never were so strong as to shake me from my spiritual slumber. When my present sickness told me of approaching death, I sought to fix my mind on holiness and heaven, but it was in vain. There was a gloom and terror drawn around religion now, at which my soul shuddered, it seemed as if I was forsaken of God; and even this did not move me. I felt no love to God, no repentance for sin, no wish to forsake it. Despair now settled over me; I knew I was in the hands of a justly offended God, from whom I could not now expect mercy. With these awful feelings I am now about to enter the eternal world. To you, my dear children, I can only say, Profit by my example,-QUENCH NOT THE SPIRIT,-seek religion now if you would avoid a miserable eternity,-put not off the concerns of your soul till"strength, which had been all summoned to make this last effort, suddenly failed; he fell back upon his bed, and with a groan, that seemed to bespeak the agony of another world, his immortal spirit took its flight from that body which it had inhabited nearly fourscore years, to receive according to that it had done. The sentence died upon his lips; his This narrative was given by a grandson of the old man, who witnessed his dying hour. He was a minister of the gospel, and dated his first permanent convictions of sin to that awful scene. The descendants of the old man were numerous, many of whom became pious: several were first awakened by his dying charge. Three years before the old man's death there was a revival of religion in the place where he resided, and his son, with whom he lived, became a subject of its influence. He had made the most violent opposition to his son's religious feelings, and never, whilst able to move about the house, did he remain in the room during family prayer, nor, till his dying hour, did he suffer a prayer to be offered in his hearing. My young reader, learn from this melancholy narrative, to accept of Jesus while you are young. Youth is the best time to become a follower of Christ, and, to multitudes, you know it is the only time. Should you neglect the Saviour now, death may cut you down, all unprepared, or the world may so engage your affections as to cause Few find the You will never Ask, then, this you to Christ. He the Spirit of God to leave you to a hardened heart. way to heaven, if they do not enter it while young. part, by far, of all that are converted to God, are coNVERTED IN YOUTH. Say not, "I will seek the Lord when I am old;" you may never live to age, or if you should, the Lord may say, "I will not give that trifler my Spirit to seek me then; I will leave him to himself, and to Satan, whose service he has preferred to that of his God and Saviour." The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Oh, be wise TO-DAY; oh, cherish the sanctifying Spirit of God; He takes of the things of Christ, and shews them to man. know Jesus, and never love Jesus, but by the Spirit. divine helper, and you shall receive; He will lead Blessed Jesus stands with outstretched arms to receive you. offers himself as the guide of your youth. Think of his promise, “I love them that love me; and they that seek me early shall find me." If this narrative should be read by one who has already reached advanced life, and has spent his years without God and without hope in the world, let it be heard as addressing him thus:-"Oh, reader, flee from destruction! Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and in his name cry mightily to God, that he may yet have mercy upon you.” The best part of your life is past; the remainder will soon be gone; and, if you die as you are, you must be lost for ever. Know, then, and believe, that God waiteth to be gracious even to thee. Such is the efficacy of Christ's blood, which you have so long despised, that, even now, if you but come to him, he will save you, and blot out the aggravated sins of fifty, sixty, seventy years or more. Such miracles of mercy are indeed rare. Oh, haste, then, and be thou one of the blessed few! Let your prayer be, "Oh, take not thy Holy Spirit from me, let him create a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me, ere I go hence, and be no more! Save thou me, and I shall be saved, for thou art the Lord my God."—Christian Treasury. THE DANGER OF THE FIRST GLASS. He was a young man, at the period of his death, perhaps not more than thirty years of age; he had been afflicted for some time previous to my first visit. I found him near his end, but unconcerned about the future. I told him plainly what were my thoughts concerning him, and urged him not to venture into eternity with the delusive hope, that he should then obtain the unsought mercy of God. At my next interview, about three days afterwards, as I entered his room, he said, "I am glad you are come. I thought you had forgotten me. I see now I am unprepared to change worlds." After a short conversation I left him, apparently more wretched than I |