tations, in one promiscuous mass of ruin, carnage, and desolation. They saw not that mystic scroll, which already seemed to be flying through the heavens, charged with the dread record of their destiny, and inscribed within and without with sorrow, lamentation, and woe. They beheld not that ominous hand, which appeared to have written upon the wall of every tenement within that devoted city, "Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting." And therefore it was that their ears were deaf to every warning. Like the inhabitants of the world before the flood, who fell victims to a similar infatuation, they dreamt not of danger. They ate and drank, and rose up to play; until, at an hour they expected not, the tide of destruction poured in upon them, and they were scarcely awake to their danger before their ruin was irrevocably sealed. In the view of such a catastrophe-in the vivid perception of such danger, combined with such ignorance and insensibility, well indeed might the compassionate and weeping Saviour exclaim, "If thou hadst known in this thy day, even thou at least, the things which belong unto thy peace!"

But, my brethren, the case of Jerusalem was not the only one which claimed the Saviour's tears. There is a danger still more awful and imminent-there is a guilt, which involves a penalty still more dreadful and terrific there is a catastrophe still more fatal and irremediable-there is an ignorance, a blindness, an insensibility, still more deathlike and profound than those which immediately called forth these expressions of divine commiseration and regret. By nature every individual of mankind is in a state of guilt and utter condemnation. In virtue of his relation to the original founder of the species, and in consequence of his own actual transgressions, he lies under the wrath of God-he is exposed to the unmitigated penalty of eternal death. The sentence of the law is in full force against him, and every renewed act of disobedience adds, as it were, a fresh count to the indictment of that law, and plunges the heedless transgressor into deeper and more complicated guilt. Such is the actual condition of those persons who have not fled for refuge to the hope set before them in the Gospel. The guilt of the original violation of the covenant of works, increased by a fearful accumulation of subsequent transgressions, lies upon them. The law of God, in its eternal and inviolable sanctions, pronounces their condemnation the justice of God requires to be vindicated by their punishment-and the truth of God is pledged for the exaction of the threatened penalty.

And if this be the real position of the case-if this be the footing upon which human beings are born into the world-it must surely be in the highest degree necessary that they should have a clear and definite knowledge of it. It is to be feared that much ignorance upon this subject still prevails in the world; that men in general are far from being acquainted, to an adequate extent, with the guilt which they have contracted, the Divine displeasure which they have incurred, and the perilous condition in which they are placed. In no other way, and upon no other principle, can we account for the fatal indifference and unconcern which they display. On no other supposition can we imagine it possible, that beings possessed of reason and reflection, and taught by the instinct of nature to seek their own welfare, should evince such desperate folly and imprudence, as deliberately to sacrifice their well-being throughout eternity for the fugitive gratifications of the present hour-that they should slumber in unsuspecting security upon the brink of everlasting ruin. If this be the present condition of any among you, my brethren, it is essential to your real safety

it is an indispensable preliminary to your peace, that you should be roused out of your lethargy-that your eyes should be opened

that your ears should be unstopped--that your conscience should be alarmed-that your understanding should be undeceived, and your hearts be unsealed. It is necessary that you should be made to see the flaming thunderbolt of Divine indignation, ready to be launched forth for your destruction, and that lightning of Divine wrath which will blast the ungodly for ever and ever. Then, my brethren, and then only, will you feel any real concern for your safety, when you have seen your own guilt and danger in their full magnitude and extent; and in the absence of such a perception on your part, we may well take up the language of the Saviour, and exclaim, with a mixture of sorrow and indignation, of compassion and rebuke, "If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the imminent peril to which thou art exposed-if thou hadst known the depth of that guilt into which thou art fallen-if thou hadst known the terrors of that wrath to which thou art exposed-if thou hadst known the power of that arm by which thou art liable every moment to be crushed-thou surely couldst not, for one instant, remain tranquil and composed-thou couldst not, inconsiderately, speak peace unto thyself, while the elements of destruction were so thickly gathering around thee, and the very insignia of penal retribution seemed to be already

hovering above thy head! But now-must I say it, and does your own conscience attest the truth of the assertion?-but now they are hidden from thine eyes."

(2.) As immediately connected with the preceding head of observation, I would remark it as a point essential to the sinner's "peace" and safety, that he should know the misery which awaits him, and will inevitably be his portion, if he suffers the day of his visitation to pass away unimproved. To behold an individual rapidly advancing towards destruction; hastily and fearlessly rushing forward, in pursuit of some gilded trifle, or some fancied good, upon what must prove his immediate and utter ruin, without being in the least aware of it, is doubtless one of the most affecting of all sights. If we saw one of our fellowcreatures, one attached to us by no other tie than that of our common nature, in such a predicament; if we beheld him dancing gaily along, cheered and lulled into security by a set of companions as heedless and unthinking as himself, towards the brink of a precipice, beneath which yawned a gulf a thousand fathoms deep; if we watched him with feelings of intense and trembling solicitude, until he was now on the point of taking the last fatal step,-I will venture to affirm that a thrill of momentary horror would run, like an electric shock, through every heart, which would labour to vent itself in some vigorous and instantaneous effort to prevent the dreadful catastrophe. Perhaps it would force its way in expressions of involuntary and unavailing expostulation; and the feelings, which, under other circumstances, might be expanded over an hour, would be condensed into the utterance of a moment. "Is there no means of opening his eyes to his danger? Is there no voice loud and shrill and penetrating enough to reach his ear? Is there no new and untried method of communication, to convey unto him that message, which he will not, and dares not, despise? Is there no accent of joy and melody from above, which will engage him to listen for a while to its sounds, and charm him out of his fatal purpose? Is there no groan of anguish and suffering from beneath, which may remind and effectually warn him of his danger?" Ere such emotions, however, have fully embodied themselves in language, he has sunk, in all the blindness of unreflecting precipitation, into the gulf of irretrievable ruin.-And O, who, in the view of such lamentable ignorance and inconsiderateness, would not mingle his tears with those of the compassionate Saviour of the world, and exclaim, "If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the awful doom upon which thou didst so presumptuously rush!"

In a case of natural life and death, such as we have now supposed, I have no doubt of the perfect sympathy and concurrence of every individual before me. But, my brethren, will you go with me farther, while I endeavour to apply it to the actual fact, which, I fear, too frequently occurs among us, of men advancing with the same blind and thoughtless impetuosity towards the brink of everlasting misery? It is true if the Bible be true, and no man has ever yet been able to prove it false-it is true, that every eye which closes, every bosom which ceases to heave, every frame which stiffens under the cold hand of death, every grave which opens, and every knell which is mournfully borne upon the gale, announces the departure of a spirit, which has entered upon an interminable destiny of happiness or woe. And is it not a question full of the most anxious and overwhelming importance, which of these two alternatives is the portion of those who are hurried off, in uninterrupted succession, from the stage of life? If we are to form our judgment by the unerring standard of Scripture-if we are to weigh human character in the impartial balance of the sanctuary-there is a vast and awful proportion of those who are summoned to the eternal world, whose case it is impossible to contemplate without feelings of the deepest apprehension. We see men living and dying without evincing the slightest symptom of a serious and considerate belief that there is any thing of a sober and experimental reality in that dim and shadowy region of visionary terrors, which it has been usual to describe, with a dull and unmeaning iteration of a few familiar terms, as the scene of penal suffering. And whether they deliberately believe the fact of the existence of such a place or not, it is certain that they live to all practical purposes as if they knew it not. they really know it-did they credit the representations which are given of its agony, and hopeless woe-of its dark and interminable captivity, and of its bitter and selftorturing remorse-of its worm that never dieth, and of its fire that never shall be quenched, as pictures of existing facts,-it is scarcely possible that the inquiry should not sometimes suggest itself to their minds, whether it may not be prudent to use some cautionary measures against the possible danger of becoming the subject of these varied forms of suffering. Viewing the whole, however, as they generally do, as something half fancy, half fact-half imagination, half reality, they regulate their profession by the former branch of the supposition, while their practice is under the entire influence and control of the latter. And I cannot but ima

Did

gine, with what a dreadful revulsion of feeling, with what an emotion of overwhelming terror and surprise, these thoughtless dreamers, when, as it is said of the rich man, they open their eyes, being in hell, will find the scene, which they had allowed themselves to think was but a fiction to give tragic interest to a cunningly devised fable, a dread and awful reality. With a simple change of person we may conceive them severally to say, "If I had known in my day of trial and salvation, what it so deeply concerned me to know; if I had known, and believed, and felt that there was such a place as my bitter experience now convinces me does exist; if I had known that sin was so sinful, that the law was so rigid and unbending, that God was so just and inflexible, that the judgment was so strict and the sentence so certain and irrevocable, that time was so short and eternity so long, and the pangs of hell so exquisite-O I should not have now been tormented in this flame! If I had known all this, and seriously laid it to heart-if I had had but the wisdom and the modesty to believe God at his word, and had opened my eyes to the real danger of my condition, instead of allowing myself to be besotted by the wanton levity of the profane, and emboldened by the hardihood of the sceptic-I could not, I could not have been so dreadfully imprudent as deliberately to have plunged myself into this hopeless, remediless woe. O, then, that in that my day I had known the things belonging unto my peace!" Such would seem to be the natural and appropriate language of him, who knew not the things belonging to his peace, and neglected the day of visitation, after his doom has now been irrevocably sealed; and in urging it upon your notice, my brethren, I am only endeavouring to perform the office, which he, who had realised the misery reserved for the wicked, in all its excruciating anguish, was so desirous of discharging towards his brethren, who were in danger of being turned, through a similar levity and inconsiderateness, into the same dreadful

place.

(3.) But once more, I observe, that it is intimately connected with the peace of the sinner, that he should know, in this his day, the means of deliverance which have been provided for him. The two preceding objects of knowledge are important only as they are preparatory and introductory to this. It would avail men nothing-it would indeed only be pouring a fresh ingredient of bitterness into their cup of sorrow-merely to be made acquainted with their guilt and danger, and to behold in vivid realisation the dreadful misery which awaited them, unless also their attention was

directed to some scheme of relief, some method of Divine contrivance, by which they might be pardoned, rescued, and saved. This is the glorious privilege-this is the grand design-this is the distinguishing peculiarity of the Gospel of Christ. It is this by which it so nobly vindicates its character and title as a message of peace, as a communication of good tidings of great joy. The Gospel is, in a peculiar and pre-eminent manner, a system of doctrines and precepts, of principles and facts, which belong unto the peace of sinners of mankind. This blessed scheme of Divine mercy and grace-this bright emanation of eternal wisdom and love, in all the fulness of its provisions, in all the richness of its inexhaustible resources and supplies, embraced by a living faith, is the great medium of reconciliation between heaven and earth. It is the repairer of the fatal breach which had been made between God and man. It is the one universal remedy for the wide-spread malady of sin. It is the alone effectual preservative from the terrors of everlasting death. In order to be duly appreciated and applied, however, it is absolutely necessary that it should be known. Like the brazen serpent in the wilderness, the blessed Saviour, whom it proclaims, must be seen with a believing and confiding eye, in order to experience the restoring and saving power which he imparts. And it is lamentable to think how few there are, even in a professedly Christian land, who really have acquainted themselves with Him, whom to know is life eternal. It is melancholy to reflect, how many there are, even among ourselves, in this age of light, in this centre of religious knowledge and information, and under the bright meridian of spiritual privileges and opportunities, from whose eyes the transcendent blessings and the glorious verities of the Gospel of salvation are hid in the profoundest gloom. And when we reflect upon the dreadful consequences of this ignorance and blindness-when we bear in mind that immortal souls are daily perishing through this lack of knowledge-it is not without reason that we would, in reference to this point, again take up the language of the compassionate and weeping Saviour, and exclaim, "If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace!"

If men had a real and adequate knowledge of the means of deliverance, which have been provided for them, and which are unfolded in the Gospel of Christ, how different would be their estimate of them from that which there is reason to fear that they generally form. If they knew the richness and the tenderness of that mercy which is now ready to embrace them with the cordiality of a perfect and unreserved

forgiveness; if they knew something of the length and breadth, the height and depth of that love which passeth knowledge; if they knew the boundless extent, the unfathomable mystery of that grace which suggested, planned, and accomplished the glorious scheme of their redemption; if they knew the depth of that humiliation which the eternal Son of God so cheerfully underwent in order that they might be exalted unto glory; if they knew the value and the efficacy of that blood which he so freely shed, and the superlative merit of that righteousness which he so generously wrought out for their benefit; if they knew the bitterness of those pangs, the poignancy of those sufferings, which weighed down his soul unto death, and drew forth, as it were, tears of blood out of every pore; if they knew the emotions of intense and tender anxiety with which he still continues to watch over their interests, and to hail the first symptom of their repentance; if they knew the feelings of rapturous exultation with which the angels of heaven are ready to chant the song of holy triumph upon their return to their Father's house; and, finally, if they knew the everlasting blessedness, the crowns of righteousness, the palms of victory, the joys for evermore, which are waiting on their acceptance ;-Ó, if they knew all this, and much more than we can now conceive or express, would it be possible that they should still continue to close their eyes and to seal their hearts against the things which belong unto their peace? would they not rather be urged, by a combined view of the guilt in which they are involved, of the danger to which they are exposed, of the misery which threatens to be their doom, of the means provided for their deliverance, and of the transcendent glory and felicity which are offered for their acceptance, to flee for refuge to the hope which is set before them; to escape for their life from the city which is devoted to destruction; and to grasp, with intense and trembling solicitude, the promised reward of glory, and honour, and immortality?

In the appeal before us there is an emphatic repetition of the term "thou," which cannot escape our notice. "If thou hadst known, even thou at least." For the ignorance and blindness of others some excuse might be made, some extenuation might be offered, some plea might be advanced in arrest or in alleviation of the penal judgment. But thou at least-thou, who wast exalted unto heaven in thy means, and privileges, and opportunities -thou mightest justly be expected to know better things. In thy case, therefore, ignorance is criminal-indifference and blindness is wilful guilt. There is also a specified, a mited time here marked out, beyond which

woe.

knowledge would cease to be availing, and perception would only be an aggravation of "If thou hadst known in this thy day!” Little dost thou think of the rapidity with which thy season of probation is passing away. But ere long it will have escaped thy grasp; and thou wilt soon look back upon it with an eye of unutterable anguish and regret, as an opportunity which can never more be recalled. It is now the day of grace, the day of timely warning, the day of God's patience, forbearance, and long-suffering. But its hours will soon have been numbered, its sun will speedily have gone down; and a night of wrath, of terror, of despair, and agony, will succeed, over which the darkness of eternity will stretch its deep and interminable shades.

May you, my beloved brethren, be engaged by these alarming considerations to know the time of your visitation. May you be roused out of the lethargy of carnal indifference, and from the slumbers of your perilous repose. May you be brought, by the prevailing power of grace, in this your day, a day much to be remembered by you if it should prove the birth-day of your immortality, to know the things which belong unto your peace. Thus will you escape the unavailing regrets of those whose doom it is to utter the doleful and melancholy cry," The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved."

PERSIAN ENTERTAINMENTS.*

IT was fixed that at the end of August the Ameen-adDowlah was to give an entertainment to the ambassador and suite; and, on the day appointed, as is usual in Persia, a messenger came to us at about five o'clock in the evening to bid us to the feast. I might make use of scriptural language to commence my narration: -"A certain man made a great supper, and

bade many: and sent his servant at supper-time to say to them that were bidden, Come; for all things are ready." Luke, xiv. 16 and 17. The difficulty which infidels have made to the passage of which this is the commencement, arises from the apparent harshness of asking people to an entertainment, and giving them no option, by punishing them in fact for their refusal. Whereas all the guests to whom, when the supper was ready, the servant was sent, had already accepted the invitation, and were therefore already pledged to appear at the feast, at the hour when they might be summoned. They were not taken unprepared; and could not, in consistency or decency, plead any prior engagement. On alighting at the house, we were conducted through mean and obscure passages to a small square court, surrounded by apartments which were the habitations of the women, who had been dislodged on the occasion; and, as we entered into a low room, we there found our host waiting for us, with about a dozen more of his friends. The ambassador was placed in the From Morier's Second Journey.

corner of honour, near the window, and the Ameenad-Dowlah next to him, on his left hand. The other guests were arranged around the room according to their respective ranks; amongst whom was an old man, a lineal descendant of the Seffi family, whom they called Nawab, and who took his seat next to the Ameen-ad-Dowlah. Although needy and without power, he is always treated with the greatest respect. He receives a daily sursat, or allowance from the king; which makes his case resemble that of Jehoiachin; for his allowance was a continual allowance given him of the king, a daily rate, all the days of his life.' 2 Kings, xxv. 30. This treatment is in the true spirit of Asiatic hospitality. Giving to the Nawab a high rank in society, is illustrative of the precedence given to Jehoiachin, by setting his throne above the throne of the kings that were with him in Babylon.' Idem, ver. 28.

When a Persian enters a mejlis, or assembly, after having left his shoes without, he makes the usual salutation of selam aleikum (peace be unto you), which is addressed to the whole assembly, as it were saluting the house (Matt. x. 12); and then measuring with his eye the degree of rank to which he holds himself entitled, he straightway wedges himself into the line of guests, without offering any apology for the general disturbance which he produces. It may be conceived that, among a vain people, the disputes which arise on matters of precedence are numerous; and it was easy to observe, by the countenance of those present, when any one had taken a higher seat than that to which he was entitled. Mollahs, the Persian scribes, are remarkable for their arrogance in this respect; and they will bring to mind the caution that our Saviour gave to the Jews against their scribes, whom, among other things, he characterises as loving the uppermost places at feasts.' Mark, xi. 39. The master of the entertainment has, however, the privilege of placing any one as high in the ranks of the mejlis as he may choose, and we saw an instance of it on this occasion; for when the assembly was nearly full, the governor of Kashan, a man of humble mien, although of considerable rank, came in, and had seated himself at the lowest place, when the Ameen-adDowlah, after having testified his particular attentions to him by numerous expressions of welcome, pointed with his hand to an upper scat in the assembly, to which he desired him to move, and which he accordingly did.

The strong analogy to be discovered here between the manners of the Jews, as described by our Saviour in the first of the parables contained in the fourteenth chapter of St. Luke, and those of the Persians, must be my best apology for quoting the whole passage at full length, particularly as it will more clearly point out the origin, and more strongly inculcate the moral of that beautiful antithesis with which it closes :

"When thou art bidden of any man to a wedding, sit not down in the highest place, lest a more honourable man than thou be bidden of him, and he that bade thee and him come and say to thee, Give this man place; and thou begin with shame to take the lowest place but when thou art bidden, go and sit down in the lowest place, that when he that bade thee cometh, he may say unto thee, Friend, go up higher then

shalt thou have worship in the presence of them that sit at meat with thee. For whosoever exalteth himself shall be based, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted."

LITURGICAL HINTS.-No. XII. "Understandest thou what thou readest?"-Acts, viii. 30. FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT.

THE COLLECT for this Sunday was composed in 1549. It is one of that class which "were composed anew, and substituted in the place of those which, containing either false or superstitious doctrines, were, on this account, rejected." The original Latin collect stands thus : "Grant us, we beseech thee, O Lord, by the renewed grace of thy Holy Spirit the Comforter, the discipline of a spiritual keeping [of this fast], that our minds, being purified by the holy fast, may be rendered more fit for all his duties." It will be seen that this prayer (so far as its obscure language will admit of being understood at all) contains mischievous doctrine. It prays for grace of congruity; that is to say, grace which is to follow a previous preparation of heart, or a training, by which the heart is to be made fit for the entrance of grace. This sentiment, expressly held by the Romish Church, destroys the scriptural doctrine of preventing grace, or divine grace, which is to go before and open the heart for the reception of all other influences. Hence the rejection of the old collect by our reformers.

We are met, in the outset of this collect, by the truth, that it was "for our sake" that Jesus fasted forty days and forty nights. It was for our sake he did this; since his fasting was the preliminary to that temptation which he endured for our sake. "We have

not an High-Priest that cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin :" "for in that he himself hath suffered, being tempted, he is able to succour them that are tempted." Understanding how hard was the struggle maintained by the Son of God against our spiritual enemy, and bearing in mind that he prepared himself for a successful issue of it by long fasting, we shall, with the greater sincerity, offer up the prayer of this collect, that God would give us also grace to use such abstinence" as, by inducing unworldly thoughts, serious reflections, and holy resolutions, may prepare and arm us for a successful issue in our temptations, "that our flesh being subdued to the Spirit," we may live in holy communion with our heavenly Father, obeying always such godly motions as the word and Spirit of Christ may suggest and impart to us, and " daily proceeding in all virtue and godliness of living."

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The EPISTLE consists of an earnest exhortation to sinners not to "receive the grace of God in vain." St. Paul feared that this had been the case of some who professed Christianity at Corinth, many of whom would, doubtless, read or hear his epistle. The prescnt season might be considered by the Corinthians an accepted time, and a day of salvation," to all who sought an interest in the blessings of redemption. "Whilst the apostle and his fellow-labourers thus zealously fulfilled their embassy of peace, they behaved with the utmost circumspection, that they might give no offence or just cause of stumbling in any thing, lest their imprudence or misconduct should cause their ministry to be blamed, and thus render it ineffectual. Patience under afflictions, constancy in necessities and distresses, perseverance under persecutions; assiduity in labours, watchings, and fastings; purity, knowledge, meekness, kindness, a spiritual mind, unfeigned love, sound doctrine, producing an evident change, by the power of God, in men's characters; disinterested, steady integrity, as an armour of righteousness on the right hand and on the left,- —are proper attestations