the observation and experience of years, we have found out the objects of the soul, and inet with minds congenial to our own, what pangs must it give to the heart, to think of parting for ever? We even contract an attachment to inanimate objects. The tree under whose shadow we have often sat; the fields where we have frequently strayed; the hill, the scene of contemplation, or the haunt of friendship; become objects of passion to the mind, and, upon our leaving them, excite a temporary sorrow and regret. If these things can affect us with uneasiness, how great must be the affliction, when stretched upon that bed, from which we shall rise no more, and looking about for the last time on the sad circle of our weeping friends,-how great must be the affliction, to dissolve at once all the attachments of life; to bid an eternal adieu to the friends whom we have long loved, and to part for ever with all that is dear below the sun! But let not the Christian be disconsolate. He parts with the objects of his affection, to meet them again; to meet them in a better world, where change never enters, and from whose blissful mansions sorrow flies away. At the resurrection of the just-in the great assembly of the sons of God, when all the family of heaven are gathered together-not one person shall be missing, that was worthy of thy affection or esteem. And if, among imperfect creatures, and in a troubled world, the kind, the tender, and the generous affections, have such power to charm the heart, that even the tears which they occasion, delight us; what joy unspeakable and glorious will they produce, when they exist in perfect minds, and are improved by the purity of the heavens!

Logan

Infatuation of Mankind with regard to the Things of Time.

BUT if no danger is to be apprehended while the thunder of heaven rolls at a distance, believe me, when it collects over our heads, we may be fatally convinced, that a wellspent life is the only conductor that can avert the bolt. Let us reflect, that time waits for no man. Sleeping or waking, our days are on the wing. If we look to those that are past, they are but as a point. When I compare the present aspect of this city, with that which it exhibited within the short space of my own residence; what does the result present, but the most melancholy proof of human insta

bility New characters in every scene; new events, new principles, new passions; a new creation insensibly arisen from the ashes of the old; which side soever I look, the ravage of death has nearly renovated all. Scarcely do we look around us in life, when our children are matured, and remind us of the grave. The great feature of all nature is rapidity of growth and declension. Ages are renewed, but the figure of the world passeth away. God only remains the same. The torrent that sweeps by, runs at the base of his immutability; and he sees, with indignation, wretched mortals, as they pass along, insulting him by the visionary hope of sharing that attribute, which belongs to HIM alone.

It is to the incomprehensible oblivion of our mortality, that the world owes all its fascination. Observe for what man toils. Observe what it often costs him to become rich and great-dismal vicissitudes of hope and disappointment --often all that can degrade the dignity of his nature, and offend his God! Study the matter of the pedestal, and the instability of the statue.-Scarce is it erected, scarce presented to the stare of the multitude-when death, starting like a massy fragment from the summit of a mountain, dashes the proud colossus into dust! Where, then, is the promised fruit of all his toil? Where the wretched and deluded being, who fondly promised himself that he had laid up much goods for many years?-Gone, my brethren, to his account, a naked victim, trembling in the hands of the living God! Yes, my brethren, the final catastrophe. of all human passions, is rapid as it is awful. Fancy yourselves on that bed from which you never shall rise, and the reflection will exhibit, like a true and faithful mirror, what shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue. Happy they who meet that great, inevitable transition, full of days! Unhappy they who meet it but to tremble and despair! Then it is that man learns wisdom, when too late; then it is that every thing will forsake him, but his virtues or his crimes. To him the world is past; dignities, honours, pleasure, glory!-past like the cloud of the morning! nor could all that the great globe inherits, afford him, at that tremendous hour, as much consolation, as the recollection of having given but one cup of cold water to a child of wretchedness, in the name of Christ Jesus! Kirwan.

Danger of Delay, in Matters of Religion.

By long delaying, your conversion may become altogether impossible.

Habit, says the proverb, is a second nature; and indeed it is stronger than the first. At first, we easily take the bend, and are moulded by the hands of the master; but this nature of our own making is proof against alteration. The Ethiopian may as soon change his skin, and the leopard his spots; the tormented in hell may as soon revisit the earth; as those who have been long accustomed to do evil, may learn to do well. Such is the wise appointment of Heaven, to deter sinners from delaying their repentance. When the evil principle hath corrupted the whole capacity of the mind; when sin, by its frequency and its duration, is woven into the very essence of the soul, and is become part of ourselves; when the sense of moral good and evil is almost totally extinct; when conscience is seared, as with a hot iron; when the heart is so hard, that the arrows of the Almighty cannot pierce it; and when, by a long course of crimes, we have become, what the Scripture most emphatically calls, "vessels of wrath fitted for destruction;"-then we have filled up the measure of our sins; then Almighty God swears in his wrath, that we shall not enter into his rest; then there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin, but a fearful looking-for of wrath and indignation, which shall devour the adversary. Almighty God, weary of bearing with the sons of men, delivers them over to a reprobate mind; when, like Pharaoh, they survive only as monuments of wrath; when, like Esau, they cannot find a place for repentance, although they seek it carefully with tears; when, like the foolish virgins, they come knocking—but the door of mercy is shut for ever!

Further, let me remind you, my brethren, that if you repent not now, perhaps you will not have another opportunity. You say you will repent in some future period of time; but are you sure of arriving at that future period of time? Have you one hour in your hand? Have you one minute at your disposal? Boast not thyself of to-morrow. Thou knowest not what a day may bring forth. Before to-mor

Art thou sure

row, multitudes shall be in another world. that thou art not of the number? Man knoweth not his time. As the fishes that are taken in an evil net, as the

birds that are caught in the snare; so are the sons of men snared in an evil hour. Can you recall to mind none of your companions-none of the partners of your follies and your sins, cut off in an unconverted state-cut off perhaps in the midst of an unfinished debauch, and hurried, with all their transgressions upon their head, to give in their account to God, the Judge of all? Could I show you the state in which they are now; could an angel from heaven unbar the gates of the everlasting prison; could you discern the late companions of your wanton hours, overwhelmed with torment and despair; could you hear the cry of their torment, which ascendeth up for ever and ever; could you hear them upbraiding you as the partners of their crimes, and accusing you as in some measure the cause of their damnation!-Great God! how would your hair stand on end! how would your heart die within you! how would conscience fix all her stings! and remorse, awaking a new hell within you, torment you before the time! Had a like untimely fate snatched you away then, where had you been now? And is this the improvement which you make of that longer day of grace with which Heaven has been pleased to favour you ?-Is this the return you make to the Divine goodness, for prolonging your lives, and indulging you with a longer day of repentance? Have you in good earnest determined within yourself, that you will weary out the long-suffering of God, and force destruction from his reluctant hand?

I beseech, I implore you, my brethren, in the bonds of friendship, and in the bowels of the Lord; by the tender mercies of the God of Peace; by the dying love of a cru cified Redeemer; by the precious promises and awful threatenings of the gospel; by all your hopes of heaven, and fears of hell; by the worth of your immortal souls; and by all that is dear to men-I conjure you to accept of the offers of mercy, and fly from the wrath to come.-Behold now is the accepted time, behold now is the day of salvation." All the treasures of heaven are now opening to you; the blood of Christ is now speaking for the remis sion of your sins; the Church on earth stretches out its arms to receive you; the spirits of just men made perfect are eager to enrol you amongst the number of the blessed; the angels and archangels are waiting to break out into new hallelujahs of joy on your return; the whole Trinity is now employed in your behalf; God the Father, God the

Son, and God the Holy Spirit, at this instant, call upon you, weary and heavy laden, to come unto them, that ye may have rest unto your souls!

On the Death of the Princess Charlotte.

Logan.

THAT such an event should affect us in a manner very superior to similar calamities in private life, is agreeable to the order of nature, and the will of God; nor is the profound sensation it has produced, to be considered as the symbol of courtly adulation. The catastrophe itself, it is true, apart from its peculiar circumstances, is not a rare occurrence. Mothers often expire in the ineffectual effort to give birth to their offspring: both are consigned to the same tomb; and the survivor, after witnessing the wreck of so many hopes and joys, is left to mourn alone, "refusing to be comforted, because they are not."

There is no sorrow which imagination can picture, no sign of anguish which nature, agonized and oppressed, can exhibit, no accent of wo-but what is already familiar to the ear of fallen, afflicted humanity; and the roll which Ezekiel beheld flying through the heavens, inscribed within and without," with sorrow, lamentation, and wo," enters, sooner or later, into every house, and discharges its contents into every bosom. But, in the private departments of life, the distressing incidents which occur, are confined to a narrow circle. The hope of an individual is crushed; the happiness of a family is destroyed; but the social system is unimpaired, and its movements experience no impediment, and sustain no sensible injury. The arrow passes through the air, which soon closes upon it, and all again is tranquil. But when the great lights and ornaments of the world, placed aloft to conduct its inferior movements, are extinguished-such an event resembles the apocalyptic vial poured into that element which changes its whole temperature, and is the presage of fearful commotions, of thunders, and lightnings, and tempests.

Born to inherit the most illustrious monarchy in the world, and united at an early period to the object of her choice, whose virtues amply justified her preference; the Princess enjoyed the highest connubial felicity; and had the prospect of combining all the tranquil enjoyments of private life, with the splendour of a royal station. Placed