to a government," And it was not yours neither?" for le droit du plus fort, "might makes right," when the suit is—governments versus individuals.

says,

In fact, He that made us and all things commanded us to respect property, and "Let him that stole steal no more, but rather let him labour, working with his hands, that he may eat his own bread, and have to give to him that needeth," Eph. iv. 28. The world is so constructed that he who confounds property with theft is a madman, flinging about firebrands, arrows, and death, and saying, "Am not I in sport?" Prov. xxvi. 19.

Christianity and property must stand or fall together; and it is the first which teaches us the right employment of the latter, so as that it shall be a blessing to ourselves, and promote the glory of God. In the pages of Scripture true religion reminds the possessor of the uncertainty of all he has, and makes use of that very insecurity to awaken attention to an inheritance the title of which can never be called into question-the products of which are beyond human fraud or violence. "Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, where rust and moth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven," Matt. vi. 19.

We have spoken of the full influence of the gospel in the heart as "a kingdom." It is for each of us to inquire whether we are the subjects of that kingdom; and whatever be the answer, duty awaits us. If we have not yet been made the subjects of that change, the grand element of which is the sway which is exerted over the heart by Jesus Christ-the influence exerted over our thoughts, feelings, and affections by his forgiving love, as it is freely offered in the gospel, let us seek earnestly, that by the Spirit's power we may at once be led to acknowledge Jesus as a Prince and a Saviour, Acts v. 31. And should his throne be already in our hearts, let us seek for it a wider sway, and take as our rule the apostle's words, "We having received a kingdom that cannot be moved, let us have grace whereby we may serve God acceptably, with reverence and godly fear."

J. F. SHAW, BOOKSELLER, SOUTHAMPTON ROW, LONDON; AND W. INNES, BOOKSELLER, SOUTH HANOVER STREET, EDINBURGH.

J. & W. Rider, Printers, Bartholomew Close, London.

MANY were the small but remarkable links in the chain (f circumstances which brought the writer and a beloved relative to that solemn scene of which the following pages contain the record. Just those little every-day, domestic, trivial occurrences which we are too apt scarcely to realize as equally in the hand of God with the more important events of life, ordered our arrangements contrary to our plan, so as to bring us there at the time-not sooner or later-but at the very time, to receive the parting breath of our loved friend. It was a cloudy morning in the midsummer of last year, so threatening rain that we were detained long after the time we had fixed to pay a visit to our recently widowed friend, who was alone at her residence, making arrangements preparatory to leaving town for the summer. Her departure not being immediate, several days were left in which we could have equally well fulfilled our promise of seeing her before she went to We sat watching the heavy morning, and had even laid aside our out-door habiliments, thinking that the next day would equally answer for our visit. But at length, the rain not actually descending as we expected, we proceeded, and reached her door fully an hour and a half after we had arranged with her to be at her house. Our friend had, consequently, nearly relinquished the expectation of seeing us, and had retired to her little writing-room to finish a letter. We sent up her faithful servant to beg her not to disturb herself till she had finished. He brought down her kindly message of love, that as her letter was for that day's post she would stay and close it, and come to us in the drawing-room in a few minutes. During those few waiting moments, the eye naturally wandered round the exquisitely furnished room- resting upon various articles of taste and elegance, and particularly upon two table vases of beautiful fresh flowers, which her own hands had arranged in all the glory of their rich and varied hues. How little did we dream that we sat in the chamber prepared for death, and that even the delicate life of these beautiful flowers would survive that of the hand which had just placed them there! But a few moments elapsed when our friend entered, and, affectionately embracing us, offered many apologies for the little delay. She inquired after all the members of our family circle; and then said she was feeling much her loss, and, with everything around her conducive to her comfort,

felt depressed and sad-she feared almost ungratefully so to Him who had supplied her with so much consolation in the circumstances of her bereavement, which had taken place three months previous. There was an exquisite naturalness peculiar to her character, which rendered this unrestrained expression of her feelings most touching.

M. and I were much moved, and as her tears fell fast, M. asked if, before conversing farther together, we should unite in expressing our sympathies and sorrows before Him whose eternal friendship bound our hearts, and who could best sympathize with and comfort her. She cordially assented, expressing the comfort she felt in seeing us, and we knelt down. The true Christian will believe that it was a simple and grateful exercise to spread the need of that sorrowing and bereaved spirit in a few earnest, unaffected supplications before our God and Father. In such moments there is no relief like that which the believer finds in the expression of deeply felt necessity, breathed out, not in words of studied human language, but as it were in the very accents of the soul, to the God who has met all our wants with innumerable promises of hearing and answering prayer. To God those wants and necessities are previously known; but He, who has so wonderfully adapted his salvation to all our constitution as the creatures of his hand, well knows that our realization of his character as our Father and our Friend needs to be continually exercised by coming to him as children come for supply to their earthly parent. He has therefore invited us with the most unlimited encouragement to individual and united prayer, with the promise of his peculiar blessing on such engagements. It surely marks no healthful state of our social intercourse as Christians, when it is unsanctified by seasons of such holy communion as these; and when friends meet and separate without remembering the example of their blessed Master, who, surrounded by his band of disciples and friends at the last supper, lifted up his eyes to heaven, and bound their listening hearts together with his parting prayer, "Father, the hour is come!" That this informal exercise was the constant habit of the church in apostolic days, a reference to various passages must decide; but especially to Acts xxi. 5, where, on the open shore, the Tyrian Christians thus parted from the apostle Paul and his friends. In the sequel of this morning visit, it will be well believed, that the circumstances of its commencement were looked back upon with feelings of solemn thankfulness, that such a communion of Christian faith, and love, and hope had sanctified the parting hours of a long and close friendship.

But to resume. Among the few, simple, earnest requests suited to the circumstances of the case, and well remembered afterwards, the writer conceiving that, perhaps, the best means of gently drawing our friend from dwelling upon her grief was to waken her benevolent feeling of interest in the good of others, prayed that she might live set apart in Christ Jesus, to the service of God here, as preparing for a blessed and uninterrupted service in glory, when she should be called upon to exchange earth for heaven, and sorrow for eternal joy. A few moments were thus spent, and as we rose from our knees she wiped away her tears, expressed herself much comforted and cheered; and, after speaking of the refreshment she always enjoyed in the prayers of a beloved friend whom she named, she resumed her seat, and spoke of others endeared to her by the closest of all ties, communion in Christ Jesus. After a few minutes' farther conversation about friends, and arrangements for her approaching journey, she asked the writer to come up with her to the little writing-room in which she spent most of her secluded hours. We reached the little room, upon the table of which stood the desk on which she had closed the letter on our arrival. Several books lay upon the table. She opened one after another; they were all books of Christian. instruction, and she cheerfully discussed the character of each, as I looked over it with her. Taking up one with peculiar interest, "Have you seen this?" she inquired. It was Bonar's "Night of Weeping." "It is most instructive, most beautiful," she continued. It was full of marks, either placed for her use by the friend who had given it, or by her own hand. "Do take it home; it will afford you so much pleasure, and you can keep it as long as you wish." I thankfully accepted the little volume, and kept it in my hand, while we still bent over the writing table, looking at others. I laid my hand upon her little Bible-"This is your Bible," I said, "after all the best book." "Yes," she earnestly replied; and, turning from the table, we stood and talked calmly of the consolation of God's sustaining love-a sure refuge in time of trouble. She raised her eyes with an expression of meek devotion; "I can say so,' she said, "he has been my support, my refuge, my comforter." A few words more passed, and she then drew my arm affectionately within her own, saying, as we descended the staircase together, "One thing I wish you to promise me. When I in two or three months, let me visit your poor with you. It is what I should so desire; hitherto domestic duty has entirely kept me from such engagements; but it would give me so much pleasure." I replied that home

return from

duties were unquestionably the very first in the order of God's service, if fulfilled to his glory, but readily assented to her proposition; and, as she opened the drawing-room door, she said, "With you, remember," in a tone of such cheerfulness, that M., whom we now rejoined, looked round and smiled to see her spirits so restored. We resumed our seats, and conversed for about twenty minutes. The whole tenor of her conversation was, as usual, that of Christian consistency, developing at every remark the high-toned principles of a well-disciplined mind. Hers was a character practically felt by all within its spherenot for striking and extraordinary displays of superiority, but for the filling up of all the daily details of life upon Christian principles, and thus shedding around the effective light of consistency. The superficial observer might wonder at the devoted consecration to duty; the Christian eye looked deeper, and saw the hidden spring directing the harmonious whole. She had lived in the world, but not of the world;" and the course of providential guidance which had cast her lot amongst a few Christian friends had given the things of God a deeper hold upon her inward spirit than many were aware; the world saw the fruits of her most precious associations-the Christian mind alone could commune with her spirit. But to proceed. She spoke of having remained in town contrary to the wish of her friends, whom she was following, instead of accompanying, that she might make all arrangements herself. She said it was a remark of her late husband's, that those who needlessly exposed their servants to temptation, by leaving things unsuperintended, were accountable for more than half their departures from integrity; and she expressed the satisfaction she felt that all the arrangements her late bereavement had entailed upon her were now completed, previously to her departure. "All is done," she said; "and, if it please God, after my stay in I shall return here to quiet seclusion."

All was done for even then the silver cord was loosening at the cistern of life; the golden bowl was broken. As we thus sat calmly and quietly conversing, she complained of giddiness and acute pain in the head. Imagining it was a fainting fit, I sprang to the sofa to her side, and the intense giddiness and pain increasing, she laid her head on my shoulder, while, with the other hand, by her own direction, I rang for her maid. She was quite sensible, and with the assistance of her servant we arranged the pillows of the sofa to support her; but seeing she was evidently getting worse, we immediately sent for medical assistance. Ten minutes had elapsed from the moment of her seizure, when, gathering her failing energies, as if her

THE ENGLISH MONTHLY TRACT SOCIETY, 27, RED LION SQUARE.