house together. It proved that he was at that moment on his way to destroy himself, and that he had the halter in his pocket. Other contemporary writers mention this circumstance, but the testimony of Flavel alone is sufficient to authenticate it.

The caution which we have given on the subject of dreams, is equally applicable to that of impressions on the mind of the character now referred to.

The incidents given above must, therefore, be received as providential and comparatively rare exceptions to a general rule. To act upon every floating impression would be fanatical and unscriptural, and a sober and enlightened judgment must be our guide in all ordinary cases. The following anecdote from the lips of Buxton is therefore useful, as showing an impression made upon the mind in connexion with prayer and the rational use of means.

"On Saturday last," he writes, "in consequence of an almost obsolete promise to sleep in town when all the other partners were absent, I slept at Brick-lane. S. Hoare had complained to me that several of our men were employed on the Sunday. To inquire into this I went in the morning into the brewing-house,

and was led to the examination of a vat containing one hundred and seventy tons' weight of beer. I found it in what I considered a dangerous situation, and I intended to have it repaired next morning. I did not anticipate any immediate danger, as it had stood so long. When I got to Wheeler-street chapel, I did as I usually do in cases of difficulty. I craved the direction of my heavenly Friend, who will give rest to the burdened, and instruction to the ignorant.

"From that moment I became very uneasy, and instead of proceeding to Hampstead, as I intended, I returned to Brick-lane. On examination I saw, or thought I saw, a further declension of the iron pillars which supported this immense weight; so I sent for a surveyor, but before he came I became apprehensive of immediate danger, and ordered the beer to be let out. When he arrived, he gave it as his decided opinion that the vat was actually sinking, that it was not secure for five minutes, and that if we had not emptied it, it would have fallen." Its fall would have been very destructive to the neighbourhood, from the immense quantity of liquid which it contained.

An interesting department of our subject

opens upon us when we consider the numerous instances in which the animal creation has been made the means of conveying deliverance in times of danger.

John Craig, the distinguished and active colleague of Knox in the work of the reformation of Scotland, on one occasion owed his safety to the instrumentality of a dog. Having escaped from the grasp of the Inquisition in Italy, he found his little stock of money exhausted, and himself penniless in a strange land, To beg would almost certainly have occasioned his detection, and insured his being again taken prisoner. Concealed in the outskirts of a forest, and pondering over his forlorn condition, he was startled by seeing a large dog approach. Fearful lest it should attack him, or lead to his detection, he tried to drive it away, but in vain. He then saw that it held something in its mouth. He took it, and found it to be a purse of money, which the dog had apparently picked up. His wants were thus supplied for the present, and so carefully did he husband the resources so unexpectedly put into his hand, that he was enabled by their means to reach his native country in safety.

Among the escapes from imminent peril after

the atrocious massacre of St. Bartholomew, perhaps none was more remarkable than that of Merlin, chaplain to Coligny. When all hope of resistance or escape for himself was over, the admiral urged his friends to save themselves by flight, if they could, whilst he remained, and calmly met the death which appeared inevitable. Many of them acted upon their leader's urgent entreaty, and getting out by a trap-door, endeavoured to make their escape along the roofs of the adjoining houses. All of them, however, were shot down by the bloodthirsty assassins in the streets, except Merlin. The roof of one of the houses gave way beneath him, and he fell through into a garret, which was used as a lumber-room and hayloft. But here he only seemed to have escaped death in one form, to meet it in another. If he left his place of concealment, he would fall into the hands of murderers; if he remained, he must be starved to death. But He who had led him into this unexpected place of refuge, was the same God who had fed the fugitive prophet by means of the ravens. Scarcely had Merlin begun to feel the pangs of hunger, before a hen entered through a hole in the roof, laid an egg and departed; this continued day by day until the

danger had gone by, and the pastor dared to show himself. He was of course much emaciated by the smallness of his supply of food; but without it he must have perished.*

In later periods we meet with equally remarkable instances of escape through the intervention of the animal creation. During the American war of independence, one of the contending armies arrived at a Quaker settlement, and demanded food. This was supplied as far as the ability of the settlers went, for though conscientiously abstaining from all interference in the war, they felt that it could not be a violation of their principles to feed a company of starving men. The next day the opposing army came up in pursuit, and partly because they were in want of provision, partly out of revenge for the assistance afforded their adversaries, they stripped the settlers of every kind of edible that yet remained. So great was the destitution to which they were thus reduced, that absolute famine was before them. The forests around were in possession of the soldiers, who either killed or drove away the

It is stated that Merlin escaped by a spider having woven its web over the place of his concealment. This, however, seems to rest on insufficient evidence.