care of her not to let her sleep, or, if she did, to wake her in a very few minutes. She had her reason perfectly till the very close of her life. Most solemnly and earnestly she warned and entreated her brothers and sisters not to put off repentance till on their death-bed, for she said, "this is a poor place to prepare for death."

The last time the pastor saw her, L. had no hope. Her condition was a dreadful commentary on the passage-having no hope, and without God in the world. Her body was racked with pain, and her mind sunk in despair. “O," said she, “I feel as though I could warn sinners not to put off religion till they come where I am; now it is too late." Notwithstanding all the prayers and efforts made to instruct her, there was no change in her state. The night she died, she manifested as much fear and terror as ever before. When struck with death, her friends were called, and she spent her remaining strength in warning them to prepare for death, and not to put it off. Said she, "I am dying-I expect to be miserable: you must seek religion, then you will be happy."

Reader, for your benefit I have described a case which has made my heart bleed. Are you without religion? What a poor, miserable creature you are! Perhaps you are now easy; but the time is coming when you will feel your need. Do you hope to obtain it on a sick and dying bed? So did L. But hear her testimony, and take warning. "This is a poor time-a poor place to prepare to die: Now, IT IS TOO LATE!" O sinner, seek the Lord now, while he may be found; call upon him while he is near. When you are ill, you will have enough to do to bear your pain, without being distressed about the concerns of your soul. You will have enough to do to die; you will have no time to prepare for death.

Are you serious, and somewhat attentive to reli

gion? So was L. A little while before her death, she spent nearly a week in religious meetings. She listened to the word; she sought the prayers of God's people. But she went no further. You know her end. Stop here, sinner, and you are lost! Stop here, and death will fill you with terror-You will be afraid to die. Stop here, and she who has warned you from a dying bed will be a swift witness against you in the day of judgment. J. L.

MONTHLY PRAYER MEETINGS.

THE first Monday in the month has long since, by common consent, been denominated the great prayerday of the Christian Church. On that day and evening, Christians have been accustomed to meet for the purpose of offering with united hearts and voices their fervent supplications for the enlargement of the Redeemer's kingdom. Their fervent prayers have been heard and graciously answered in the numerous happy and extensive revivals of religion with which the churches in our own country have been favoured, and in the great success which has attended the labours of our missionaries among heathen nations.

We

In view of these results, and the paramount importance of the duty, ought not our hearts to be inspired with gratitude to God, and with increased zeal in the discharge of an obligation so important and so intimately connected with the present and future glory of the church of the living God? fear, however, that this is not the case, and that it is far otherwise in these days of worldliness, when the people of God seem so much to have imbibed the spirit of the world in their feelings and labours for those things that "perish with the using."

It is much to be feared that the members of our churches feel less solicitude to mingle their devotions

at those sacred seasons to which we have alluded than formerly. As evidence of this fact, who does not witness, with the most painful emotions, the smallness of our assemblies when, on that hallowed evening, from several churches and congregations united, but few, very few, are found in their places of prayer.

We have of late been particularly led to some thoughts on this subject, from perceiving by personal observation, that other and less imperative duties were permitted to interfere with the appropriate services of this sacred season of special prayer. We have long since cherished the belief, that, with the exception of the stated public worship of the Sabbath, and the stated meetings of the church, the "Monthly Prayer Meeting" should have the precedence of all other engagements.

It will readily be admitted that at no period in the history of our country was prayer more important than at the present eventful crisis, when men's hearts are failing them for fear, while looking on those things that are coming upon the earth.

Let it not be forgotten that when everything else seems to be failing, and all our hopes of worldly prosperity are blasted and withered, that "the word of the Lord abideth for ever," and that word has declared that "the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." Let it be remembered that it is still true that "prayer moves the hand that moves the world." We may settle it, therefore, in our hearts, that revivals of religion at home, and the success of our missionaries in foreign lands, are identified with the prayers of the church, as much so as the staying up of the hands of Joshua in ancient days, or the releasing of an apostle from prison.

INFIDELITY AND CHRISTIANITY.

SOME few months ago, I was called to preach the funeral sermon of a little girl. The grandfather was an infidel. He attended the funeral in the chapel, where he seldom, if ever, was seen before. The funeral was on the Sabbath, and on Monday I called to see the bereaved. Every heart present was tender, and all, save the grandfather, were comforted with the consideration that the child was in heaven. The old man, (for his three score and ten had passed years ago), had no such consolation. He had met with a great loss, and yielded to a forced submission.

The claims of Christianity were set before the aged man. He saw no meaning in the Bible-no beauty in Christ-no terror in hell nor charms in heaven-the grave to him appeared the end of man, and death an eternal sleep" the future is all in the dark, and we have no concern further than the present life."

The aged man was entreated to compare his views with those of the Christian. Your little granddaughter is dead, and perishes like a horse-her body is of no more account than the body of a worm, her memory eternally perishes. O how chilling to the soul such reflections! Infidelity, where are thy charms! But how different are the principles of Christianity. The little grand-daughter dies, not as a horse, but "more than a conqueror"—her body is not as the body of a worm, but it is raised "a spiritual body"-her memory is not buried in the grave of annihilation, but is found in the records of heaven, where both body and soul are for ever honoured and blessed.

The grandfather's heart was a little softened for a moment. The thought that the object of his warmest affections was no more was all but insupportable. He admitted, that if Christianity were a delusion, it

was a most happy delusion. But there is no delusion in the case. Religion is a glorious reality. As well might we undertake to persuade a hungry man, who has just taken an excellent dinner, that the happiness of eating was all a dream, as to persuade the Christian that religion is a delusion. "The kingdom of heaven is within" the saints, and if the joys of those who serve God in time are so great, what may they not expect in that world where are blessings greater than eye hath seen, or ear heard, or than hath entered into the heart of man to conceive?

E. M.

THE REVIVAL SPIRIT.

THE Revival Spirit is a tender, humble, heart-broken spirit. This is essential to the spirit of prayer. "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit. A broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise." This is accompanied with feelings of deep self-abasement. The prayer of Daniel, previous to the return from the captivity, may be regarded as an excellent specimen of genuine revival feeling. A great portion of this prayer is the language of heart-broken confession. And such will be found to be the language of Christians, on awaking from a long season of spiritual slumber; and whenever this melting spirit becomes general in a church, great and glorious is the work of the Lord.

This spirit is far removed from noise and confusion and vain confidence. The Lord is neither in the strong and mighty wind, nor in the earthquake, nor in the fire, but in the still small voice. The accents of humble, broken-hearted penitence will be heard in the pulpit, in the social meeting, and at the family altar; and the secret places will witness the deep struggles of spirit, where the humble souls