approached manhood he felt an irresistible desire to walk abroad, and view that world of which he had hitherto only heard as it were by the hearing of the car-so, like most Scotchmen, prudently and judiciously revolving the idea, that though his own country was a very good country, he might do better in another, he gathered up all he had, and departed to what he considered, in his simplicity, a comparatively distant land, carrying with him the prayers and the counsels of his father and mother, and the kind wishes of his friends. Amicus arrived in Dublin, with all that peculiar aversion to the Establishment which his education might be supposed calculated to inspire. He had never been trained to entertain any great reverence for popery or prelacy-and though ignorant of the Articles, Liturgy, and form of worship of the established church, and that from the best of all reasons, having never read the one, or seen the other, he yet regarded her as a daughter of the "mother of harlots," decked and adorned with her trimmings, and pitching her tent in the immediate vicinity of Babylon. But being now free from observation and control, he thought he might do worse than enter an episcopal church. He gazed around with a mingled feeling of curiosity and admiration-but when the first tones of the organ pealed upon his ears, all his antipathies rushed to their citadel, and a cold shuddering sensation crept through his veins. He ventured, however, to stand it out; and as the service proceeded, he listened with more composure and less contempt-until at last his taste (for he had taste) was so gained upon by the beauty and sublimity of the prayers, as almost involuntarily, at one time, to bend his knee, though he could not bring it to the ground. The prayers and responses were read and given with that solemnity and emphasis of accent and manner, so much desired by those who combine correct taste with deep devotion-and even though Amicus shrunk a little at the bowing of the head at the name of Jesus, because be fancied it was so popish-like, he began to admit the thought, that a read prayer might be sincere, and that many bowed not merely their heads but their hearts. The sermon, however, crowned the measure of his astonishment. A man who was 66 sae daft as to change his goon," actually preached an excellent sermon-and Amicus departed, surprised and pleased that any good could come out of Nazareth. He repeated his visits, and each visit found him better pleased— there fell from his eyes as it had been scales-and he looked up, determining no longer to walk in darkness, or, mole-like, to hide himself from the light of day. Just about this time he came in contact with the Roman Catholic objection to Protestantism-its want of unity. The objection is good, thought Amicus-it must do nothing for that church which, in spite of all its infallibility, has been torn by divisions-yet it comes powerfully upon Protestants who claim the right of judging for themselves, and appeal to the Bible as their only rule of faith. Surely if there be but one God, and one Bible, there can be, or ought to be, but one church: and how does it come that there are such a vast variety of sects in the Christian world? The idea was startling, and he determined to pursue it to the uttermost. To find out the sect nearest the purity of the truth, became the absorbing desire of his soul, and to it every other consideration was compelled to yield. But notwithstanding his new-formed admiration of the establishment, his prejudices were too strong for him to consider it as the purest; and so out he went a sect-hunting, though it might truly be said he went out not knowing whither he went. The Methodists-the bustling, laborious, indefatigable Methodists, first attracted his attention. Their zeal was manifest, their activity was pleas ing, and their piety truly persuasive. Amicus walked over to them at once, and felt for a while pleased and happy. Their prayer-meetings, class meetings, band-meetings-their love-feasts, their sermons, their exhortations, from house to house-their teaching of the young, their kindness to the old, and their visits to the sick, all indicated a people whose hearts were warm in a good cause, and zealously affected in a good thing. Moreover, they were under active discipline-providing their own spiritual officers building their own places of worship-raising their own fundsdivided into rank and file-ready to assail the foe, wheresoever he might entrench himself; and fearless of peril by land or sea, proclaiming the glad tidings of salvation to the perishing sons of Adam. Surely, thought Amicus, of a truth God is with them: the good they have done, proclaims that his blessing is upon them-their increasing numbers testify their suc. cess-and if any marks can identify a Christian people, it must be such as these. But, alas! in the very midst of his pleasure and satisfaction, he was cruelly disturbed. The doctrine of election met him fair in the face, and like the angel with his fiery sword that stopped the progress of the covetous soothsayer, prevented him from turning to the right hand or the left. He had never considered it before, having taken it upon trust, like many more of his opinions. Now, justice and impartiality demanded a fair examination; and as his puny intellect approached the subject, it seemed like a pigmy attempting to unseat the Andes. There it lay, a gulph, deep, dark, and unfathomable-it seemed like the Deity himself, veiled in clouds, while darkness was under his feet. The more he read, and the more he thought, it became more dark and obscure-" My sheep shall never perish "—I myself might be a castaway"-No man can come unto me except the Father draw him "-" Give diligence to make your calling and election sure." Oh, where am I? cried Amicus, forgetting that none but a God, can comprehend a God-and he turned his feeble brain away from a contemplation so profound. Another doctrine now presented itself, and renewed his vexation and disappointment. What! do the Methodists teach the possibility of attaining perfection in this life! Amicus looked inward and sighed. He opened his Bible, and could find nothing to bear it out, though one or two passages were strained to prove the doctrine. "I will never be a perfect Methodist!" he exclaimed; and just at this unfavourable moment, he detected some inconsistencies, in the conduct of one of the most vehement of bis new friends. Oh, I see it all-they screw up their feelings so high, that they lose their elasticity-they climb their devotional ladder with such rapidity that they lose their balance, and down they tumble to mother earth, with a velocity which astonishes the bye-standers." He now hegan to scrutinize every thing connected with Methodism with severity. "I am sadly afraid" said he, "that they sometimes substitute their own feelings, for that complete and full salvation they so freely preach "-and becoming more and more dissatisfied because he could not immediately find the perfection that he wished, away he walked, just as he came, and halted not till he landed right among the Quakers. What a total transition!-from the land of bustle to the region of repose. The very atmosphere seemed charged with stillness, and the world shut out, with the hum and din of its perplexing and petty affairs. Novel as it was, the spirit of Amicus was charmed and captivated-the entire absence of pomp and parade won upon his mountainer prejudices-and though the silence was broken by a female voice, a strange sight to one who had never heard the weaker vessel admonishing publicly the lords of creation, yet the feeling it excited, was any thing but one of contempt. He cast bis eye over the whole assembly-the gravity of the men-not a muscle discomposed, but every feature apparently indicative of peace within-the modest attire, the shamefacedness and sobriety of the females-it was irresistible. "Here are the fruits of Christianity-what more can I want? what more do I seek ?" And withal there sprung up along with the wheat, a tare in the mind of Amicus. "They are all well-to-do in the world-people say, they are very kind to each other-they seem to enjoy this life, and to be sure of the neat." He saw this, but passed it by-for corrupt motives surely could not influence him in seeking after truth. He thought, too, that (but reader, this thought was at the very bottom of his heart-he could hardly see it himself) he might want a wife, and there seemed some very excellent young ladies in the connexion. Let that pass however, it is hardly worth mentioning. He began to examine their principles, and wanted to know how he would acquire them. Barclay was put into his hand. "What a thick volume !-it will take me a long time to read that." He turned over the leaves, and read the contents. "Universal light-immediate revelation-the iufluence of the Spirit-electiontut, there is election again-I tremble when so much is said about it—WARwhat about war? Yes, war is a most unchristian practice-the fruit of evil passions-but what, no fighting at all, not even in self-defence?" All the covenanter rose within his soul. He recollected with what emotion his good old father used to tell of the times, when upon a hill-side, the tender female with her child in her lap, and the stern husband and son, girded with belt and bandolier, would listen to some venerable Poundtext, a bible in one hand, and a sword in the other, and all the while a scout on some neighbouring height to give notice of the approach of the enemy. "No, no," he would mutter again, 66 war is detestable-but it is necessary sometimes." And just at the back of this idea, came in another. "I wonder how I would look in a quaker garb ?" And then to learn the dialect of the men of Ephraim! He saw that if he became a quaker, he must emphatically become a new man." All his religious doctrines, taught him from the time he could sit round the fire, must be torn up by the roots. His practice too must be changed-he must doff his old hat, and make a wig of his new, remould his speech, and submit to a renovation, unequivocal and complete. The perfection doctrine also met him here and he concluded, that if he could not be a perfect Methodist, he could as little be a perfect Quaker-and so away he walked, fretted and annoyed, that as yet he had made no progress in his discovery of a perfect sect framed upon a primitive model. 66 He was now in that happy state of mind, which Socinians say, is requisite for the "calm inquiry" after truth-indifferent to every thing. One day he would be in raptures with the glorious birthright of Protestantsfreedom of inquiry. Mind-immortal mind, was never intended by its Creator to be controlled, except by HIMSELF-good, great, everlasting good, has been the result of its free, unfettered exercise-it ought never to bow beneath the yoke of mortal man, or submit to the impositions of priestcraft. Next day all would be changed. He could find no rest for the sole of his foot amid the flood of opinions that covers the face of Christendom. He wished for some standard, some infallible standard, forgetting that there was the Bible, and here was his mind. In this state of doubt and indecision, he became alarmed at an idea he had met with, that men might go down to hell with a lantern in their hand. "True, true, it is an appalling truth-the light which is in me may be darkness, thick palpable darkness-I may walk for a time in the light of my own fire, and the sparks which I have kindled, and then lie down in remediless sorrow!" He had latterly been disposed to admire the hackneyed couplet of Pope, but now he began to weigh its value;-" graceless zealots" may fight for "modes of faith," and equally graceless liberals may think that his " cannot be wrong whose life is in the right"-but there is one mode of faith, for which his servants do not fight, and the only one which produces the right sort of life. Afraid of being found among the despisers of God and his unspeakable gift, Amicus, without much consideration, joined a body of Independents, and was again restored to happiness and self-satisfaction. Amongst these good people he concluded himself settled for life. So much plainness and simplicity-so much Scriptural purity, and so much love for one another they seemed to hold the commandments of the Redeemer with a single eye. Besides though they believed in election, they told him not to trouble his head about it, for it was among the secret things of the Almighty." Thus is just what I want," said he, and congratulated himself on having arrived at ne plus ultra. He was invited one Sunday to dinner, and another Sunday to tea-he was cordially shaken by the hand when met upon the street-a smile of good-humoured content sat upon many of their countenances-they were so strict, and yet so liberal-their faith seemed to purify their hearts, and to work by love and all apparently were so desirous of walking in all the commandments of the Lord blameless-that Amicus marvelled how he had shut his eyes so long, and overlooked such a truly excellent body of Christian people. He attended their private meetings, and was called upon to pray occasionally; the fervour of his prayers gained him a high reputation; and the one thought he was where he ought to be, and the others concluded that they had added to their number a pious and a devoted young man. The novelty passed away, and Amicus began to imagine that every thing was not so pleasant and delightful as at first. His mind required more than ordinary excitement, and as all went on quietly and smoothly, he began to feel restless. They seemed to be overlooking him, and there appeared to be some among them who made themselves of more consequence than the rest. His pride was touched, and he ventured during a case of discipline to express what he thought. "Young men are exhorted to be sober-minded," was the pastor's reply, and vexed and chagrined Amicus sat down. His love was cooled, and he did not much care if he was away-but decency required him to suppress his feelings. A new subject, however, started before him, and diverted his attention. The millennium absorbed his every thought, and he was in raptures with the glorious scheme. The personal reign, the resurrection of the saints, the restoration of the Jews, and the Redeemer presiding in grace and grandeur over the nations of the earth, filled his heart and elevated his soul. He could scarcely endure a contradiction of his new opinions; it must be so-see how many good Christians believe it—the idea is rich— it is a wholesome doctrine, and very full of comfort. He now exhorted his friends to prepare for the coming of their Lord; and if any one ventured to hint that he did not believe he would come, Amicus could scarcely be restrained from counting him as worse than an infidel. One discovery led on to another. Europe could not have been more amazed at the discovery of America, or filled with more valorous adventurers, than the mind of Amicus with lofty and daring imaginations. Truth must be followed wheresoever she will lead, became his motto and his motive. He descried new land again, and made right for it. Christ died for all men-for ALL --yes, for ALL; "not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world." It was perfectly plain-nothing could be plainer; and Amicus set about with zeal and assiduity to propagate his new doctrines. Another and another imagination crowded in upon his mind; he embraced the idea, that it was likely the saints would eat and drink after the general resurrection, and began to contend for it. Wherever he went he could not rest, until, like some gallant cavalier, he would lay down his new opinions, glove-like, upon the table, and challenge the whole company round. He had no time to talk about any thing but the millennium, the personal reign, and the universality of Christ's death. The drivelling preachers of a drivelling generation kept the people in bondage; and one day he attacked his pastor, for presuming to preach a sermon on the subject, in which not a single new idea was contained. Now came the tug of war; and Amicus silenced, but not convinced, determined to leave men whose minds were 90 contracted, and who only seemed to sleep the sounder as the coming of our Lord drew near. A deputation was appointed to wait upon him, and inquire his reasons for withdrawing. This only increased his self-importance, and he would listen to no terms of accommodation, unless his new doctrines were received and embraced. His zeal swallowed up his common sense; and he seemed utterly unaware that, while ranting about the downfal of Antichrist, he was doing his best to uphold him. He was now left to himself, and for a season disdained to enter within the walls of a church. A friend met him and hinted, "Forsake not the assembling of yourselves together." He started; the cold waters of amazement flowed in upon his soul. A cloud, dark and heavy, gathered round his mind; the Christian world assumed the appearance of a stage, and all the men aud women merely players. Time and eternity, heaven and hell, salvation and damnation, appeared as figures of speech, to which nothing definite could be assigned. The pearl of great price was an ingenious device, a crafty invention to gain to a number a portion of this world's goods; and the wicked one, with all his hosts, were dramatis personæ, introduced to overawe the timid, and keep them in subjection to the clergy. This cloud passed away, and Amicus feared exceedingly, as he entered into another. "Ab, an angry God has given me over to a reprobate mind! The evil spirit once cast out, has returned, and finding his former habitation swept and garnished, has taken with him seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they have entered in and taken possession! Oh! it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God-to count the blood of the covenant an unholy thing, and do despite to the Spirit of grace!" The mind of Amicus was now in a state pitiably dreary. His morbid imagination and fanatic feelings, pictured himself as a withered thing upon the face of the earth-withered for time, and lost for eternity. When it was evening he wished it were morning, and when it was morning he wished for the evening. Without God, and without hope in the worldunwashed in a Redeemer's blood-unsanctified by a Spirit of gracethere seemed to remain nothing else for him but a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation. He trembled lest death would soon come, and gibbet his soul for ever, a spectacle to angels and to men. He regarded himself as a vessel of wrath, fitted for destruction, and waiting to be filled with the lava of the wrath of a holy God. He looked around him and about him, to see where the thunderbolt would issue that was to level him with the earth. But time passed on, and nothing strange appeared. The blue heavens were still over his head, and the |