plunged into the same misery. If you are living without prayer, it is in vain to hope for mercy from God. If you do not love and serve Jesus Christ, you are under the same condemnation with Sophia, only the sentence is not executed against you. This is your day of grace. God beseeches you to be reconciled to him, to behold his Son who was crucified for sin, to depend upon his death as the only foundation of hope. To-day if you hear God's voice, if you attend to his calls and invitations, you will instantly cease to do evil and learn to do well. No doubt, your companions will think it strange for a while that you do not keep pace with them in their follies and fashions; but what signifies their mockery, if you are but saved from wrath to come. God does not desire you to live as your neighbours would have you, but to live godly and to walk humbly with him, and he will make you happier than ever you have been. You will soon find out better companions, and more rational amusements. Associate with them who fear God. Read the scriptures every day. Remember to sanctify the Sabbath. Attend the ministry of none but those who preach the Gospel, who speak much about a crucified Jesus. Read Omicron's Letters, by Mr. Newton of London, and also his Cardiphonia. The Reign of Grace, by Mr. Booth, is also an admirable book. Witherspoon upon Regeneration, and Doddridge's Sermons to Young People, are also good books. But read the Scriptures more than any other books.

HISTORY OF DAVID PRIDE,

RELATED BY HIMSELF.

I was born in the city of Edinburgh, during the days of John Knox. My father possessed considerable pro

perty, from whom I had the most liberal education which the city could afford. When at the Grammar School, I daily heard the high encomiums passed upon the heathen gods, and on the virtue and magnanimity of heathen warriors. These heathenish harangues deprived me of the tincture of religion I had imbibed from my catechism and Bible at the reading school. I was almost taught to believe that all my success and happiness in after-life hinged on my being a good or bad linguist. Receiving these sentiments, I considered the obtaining a knowledge of the dead languages as the one thing needful. In short, I was so absorbed in this persuasion, that I minded nothing else. From morning to night I was so taken up preparing for shining in the then present world, that the infinitely more important concerns of my soul were completely overlooked. Indeed, it never once occurred to me that there was a world to come, or that men were made for any nobler purpose than what could take place in the boundaries of time. How dreadful was it that nobody cared for my poor soul, that nobody recommended to me the writings of JEHOVAH ! I perhaps should not have taken it kind at the time, but they ought, notwithstanding, to have persisted in urging me on to consider those things which pertained to my eternal peace. Many good men visited my father's house; but knowing that he was a wicked man, they thought it bad breeding to commend the Saviour in his company; this was abominable cowardice, a shameful compliance with the world, a want of zeal for God.

After finishing my course at the High School, I went to college, in pursuit of what was called mental accomplishments. By dint of application, I soon became a proficient in the various branches of polite literature. I became so acute a reasoner, só ingeniously sophistical, that I generally turned the scale in every debate in which I

I

engaged. My companions admired my abilities, and courted my company. I ridiculed the righteous, and condemned them as fanatics upon every occasion. pleaded for the dignity of human nature, and many an eulogium I passed upon the noble powers of man. I called sin, human frailty. I called holiness human folly, the despicable imagination of a distempered brain. Thus I went on, as ignorant as a Hottentot about divine things. I expected to make a figure in the world, to arrive at the pinnacle of human glory, and do something to hand down my name to succeeding ages. But, behold, in the prime of life, I was seized with a consumption! I was soon given over by the physicians, and death stared me in the face in all his ghastly horrors. I called for cards, novels, and music, if possible to banish thought. I tried to be cheerful, that my friends might talk of my fortitude, but I assure you I had a quivering heart. My greatest enemies were those who called themselves my dearest friends; they attempted to divert my attention from my approaching doom by every satanic stratagem. They removed from my chamber a bible which had remained for years unmolested on my shelf? all divinity books suffered the same banishment. But their greatest cruelty appeared only two days previous to my departure, when a poor woman in the country, who had nursed me, hearing of my great distress, called to enquire for me; and being admitted to my bed-side, she began, in the mildest manner, to talk of the lost and perishing condition of man; but when just beginning to mutter something about the Saviour, my sister pushed her out of my chamber, ordering her, upon her peril, never to enter the door again. I complained of this usage, and petitioned her for her re-admission, but this was denied. I was too feeble to dispute, and was obliged to submit.

I was quite ignorant of what awaited me, but I feared

dissolution. I would have given ten thousand worlds for a few years addition to my days! however, my heartstrings broke, and my soul flew to the abodes of misery. I have now more than two hundred years suffered inconceivable misery; but after the general judgment, I know that my punishment will be greatly augmented. I am beyond all hope of recovery: an unmeasurable eternity of woe is before me. I see now, (when too late,) that there is a reality in religion; that the truly pious are the only wise men in the world: I feel, to my sad experience, the truth of those threatenings contained in the scriptures, at which I once used to smile; but I find God now laughs at the calamity which hath come upon me, and mocks me when my fear has come as a desolation. I have no hand to turn to. I know my nurse has reached the realms of eternal felicity. The good advice she sometimes gave me is as fresh upon my memory, as the moment she gave it, and every recollection of it is as the thrusting a dagger to my heart.

HISTORY OF FRANCIS LOSTBOY.

FRANCIS was born in the village of Vanity, in the parish of Hireling-priest. His father was a collier, addicted to drinking to excess almost from a child, and he, poor man! thought it fine sport to give his son liquor till he was scarce able to stand, when he was only six years of age. This rivetted him in a habit which stuck to him till his death.

The mother of Francis was a daughter to a coal-driver, who lived in a little wicked town, which some time ago got the name of Profanity: and well it deserved that name.-There was hardly a person in it who did not either drink immoderately, or swear roundly; even the children in the street used to swear, steal, and tell lies. On the Lord's day there was scarce half a dozen of people who went to any place of worship. Some said they had not a cap; others pretended that their gown was not good enough; others that they toiled so hard through the week, they must have a day of rest; and some had the effrontery to say, they must stay at home and cook the dinner. In this way almost the whole town absented themselves, from hearing the glad tidings of salvation by Jesus Christ; indeed the Sabbath was the most wicked day in the week in that place. Had you taken a walk about the town in time of sermon, you would have seen some drinking in the alehouse, others loitering in their beds, some lolling behind hedges and trees in the fields, idly sqandering away their precious moments, forgetting