a gloomy prisoner, in the iron cage of Despair? Through want of watchfulness-because he did not always look about him-because he was heedlessbecause he gave himself up to spiritual slumber-because his conscience was not sufficiently alive, or awake-and so, through spiritual carelessness, he allowed the enemy to gain an advantage over him. Or on account of self-pleasing, because he had laid the reins on the neck of his lusts, and had allowed those lusts, like fiery coursers, to lead him whither they would-because he had gone back to the world again-because he had allowed self to grow into its former vigour-because he had sought those things which are "earthly, sensual, devilish." And also because he had sinned against light and against knowledge-because he had done those things which he knew to be transgressions of God's law, and had done them because sin, the love of sin, had come back so fearfully into his mind.

It is to these sources that we trace backsliding. It is these things that make a dungeon of man's spirit, and immure even a child of God within the prison-walls of dark despair.

Are there any hopes of such a man escaping from that cage ? We dare not limit God. We dare not fix a boundary to the operations of his love and to the extension of his mercy; but there are many cases in which men would say, the despair is so dark and intense in its gloom, so fearful in its horror, that it seems to us incurable; and many a soul thus shut up in the iron cage has said, "Alas! there is no hope for me there is no mercy for me; I have sinned too deeply, too aggravatedly; Christ cannot reach me; His salvation was never meant for such an apostate as I am. Alas! I am without hope."

So has many a soul reasoned. We say that it has not reasoned so scripturally. We say that there is a place for repentance here. We say that so long as

there is a cry for pardon in this life God will be sure to hear that cry. But, reader, if you would not be thus shut up in this prison-house of spiritual gloom, if you would not have its iron bars wear out your spirit, oh! take care of the first approach to spiritual declension; beware how you become unwatchful; beware how you allow self to assume the ascendancy; beware how you sin against spiritual light.

And these are warnings needful for those who are beginning the Christian course, lest the world be too strong for their infant virtue, lest the light of God, which is yet in its beginning in their mind, be put out, or covered over (as it were) by the power of the world. Oh, young reader, think of the dangers of drawing back! Think of the dangers, after having put your hand to the gospel plough, of looking back to that world whence you came. "Remember Lot's wife."

The next vision is the Anticipation of Judgment. Many have dreamt of this. It is rather a singular fact, that almost everybody, perhaps, now reading this magazine, if they could recall the past, could describe some dream of the judgment. It is exceedingly common to have such dreams; and we think very naturally, for these reasons—that at night conscience is more awake and active than during the day, and reason and the will are not present to control; so that when conscience has begun to arouse itself from its day's slumber, and to walk about the chambers of the soul, and to speak of sin and of the doom of sin, and to draw out before the soul the threatenings of God's law, the imagination follows conscience, and gives an actual form and a visible shape to all that conscience has spoken of. So, where conscience has been des cribing scenes, imagination pictures those scenes, and where conscience has been reading out of God's Book the threatenings of His wrath, imagination looks for ward, and pierces through the gloom that hides the world's scenes from our minds, and pictures to us the

great white throne, the open books, and all the terrible sublimities of approaching judgment.

But that judgment-day is no dream after all! A morning is coming, and will soon break upon the world—a morning in which the soul shall awaken, not from the slumber of a night, but, it may be, from the slumber of a life, and awakening from that life's slumber shall gaze upon the scenes of the second judgment, shall look with dazzled eye upon that appalling panorama which shall then pass slowly and fearfully before the soul, and shall acknowledge that it is no dream. Ah! it will be no dream, reader, when you and I stand before God to be judgedwhen the archangel's trumpet shall summon us from our graves, to appear before that great white throne. You may dream of it now; but you will have to realize it then. You must meet me there. I must meet you all there. Oh! how solemn that meeting! Now we may wake up and say, "It was all a dream;' but then, the awakening will be only to realize its terribleness more fully-to awake from imaginary to real horrors. There will be no escaping the wrath to come.

Let us, then, as Christians, think of the judgmentday. It is well to think of it. It is well for us to consider how we are to stand there, what account we shall render, how we shall be able to give up our stewardships-how I will be able to give up my reckoning, as a Christian writer, and how you will be able to give up your account, according to the different states in life to which God has been pleased to call you. Parents, how will you give your account to God then? Have you acted rightly in your stewardship? Have you brought your children to Him? Have you nursed them for the skies? And so according to the various relationships which you may occupy-how will you give in your account at the judgment-day?

And oh! my young readers, who are setting out, like Christian, in life, keep that in view-"I must give account to God." Bring everything to that. It will chasten your moments of pleasure. It will give urgency to your prayers. It will make you circumspect in your daily calling. It will exercise a salutary and solemnizing influence over your whole life. You "must give account to God." Think of it in your closets. Think of it in your families. Think of it in your social circles. Think of it in your business. Think of it in your friendships. Think of it in all your correspondence. Think of it in all your conversation. Think of it as you are walking in the streets. Oh! think of it as you lay down this book. Think, "I must give account to God," and then, by God's blessing, there will be a safeguard in that reflection. You will fear to go into some scenes, you will shrink from being found in some sorts of company; there will be a chastening' influence exercised over your actions and your words, if you only let that thought constantly abide in your breastI must give account to God."

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And you who are not Christians-you who have made no practical confession of the Christian faithyou who, if you have a name to live," are yet spiritually "dead"-you, also, "must give an account to God." You must give an account of the appeals which heavenly love has made to your souls-of all the warnings, as well as of all the invitations, which the gospel has addressed to your minds; you must give account of all the preaching to which you have listened-you must give account of having read this very paper. Words of eternal importance have been sounded in your hearing. You have heard of the Saviour's love, the power of the Saviour's grace, your need of an interest in that precious Redeemer; and you must give account of this. The judgment is approaching. I must meet you there, and you must

meet me there. I must meet you, to say that “I have not shunned to declare to you the whole counsel of God," and I must give my testimony either for you or against you-for you, as having listened to and believed the words spoken to you, so as to turn to Christ-or against you, as having listened to, and disbelieved, or forgotten the words, and so reckoned. yourselves" unworthy of everlasting life."

God grant, reader, that when we thus meet, it may be with joy, and not with grief-that when the awful scenes of the judgment break upon our astonished gaze, we may then be able to realize our interest in Christ, and feel all the fulness of value which those words contain-"There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the" works of the law, but are led by "the Spirit" of God, and are, therefore, "the sons of God."

W. M. W.

THE BIBLE IN EVERY LAND.

THE YOUNG COLPORTEUR.

WE have much pleasure in presenting to our readers a copy of an interesting report, received from Master Edward Schauffler, of his distributions of New Testaments amongst the soldiers of the reserved French corps, encamped on the heights on the European side of the Bosphorus. He distributed not less. than 907 French and German New Testaments, and that in a very short space of time. This young honorary Colporteur is about fifteen or sixteen years old, and a much younger brother of his accompanied him, to aid in carrying the Scriptures. His elder brother, now on his way to England and America, distributed New Testaments amongst the sick at the hospital of Koulolee, and amongst the French at the