and to promote the furtherance of his will. This evinces a devout and holy conviction that all his dispensations are infinitely wise and excellent, and that he is worthy to preside over the affairs of the universe, and the concerns of us and of all his creatures, with unlimited and unquestioned authority. Contentment, patience, resignation, and submission, are, in an eminent degree, the characteristics of a mind disposed to live to the divine glory, whereas dissatisfaction, repining, envying, and fretfulness, betray, no less clearly, the perverse workings of a spirit of unholy selfishness, and unbroken pride. It is God's to appoint, it is ours to obey. He has a right to do with his own as seemeth to him good. It is ours, in every situation, to acquiesce in his holy dispensations, and to say, with a shout of unfeigned adoration and praise, "Blessed be the name of the Lord." It may be for the glory of God to place us in circumstances which are distasteful to our natural feelings, and which we may be disposed to view as little accordant with a benevolent and gracious purpose. Our labours may be seemingly useless, our means and opportunities of doing good unduly limited and restricted; we may have difficulties and discouragements allotted to us from which others are exempted, and every thing connected with our state may look adverse and forbidding. But let it be remembered that, when on grounds such as these you may be ready to say, with a patriarch, "All things are against me," it may be that God is only preparing for you the enjoyment of deliverance, and the communication of blessings which will cause you to rejoice with a more abundant admiration and gratitude. He brings light out of darkness, order out of confusion, and good out of evil, and, in the end, he will make it appear that," as high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are his ways above our ways, and his thoughts above our thoughts." But, in fine, we live to the glory of God, when we regulate our actions and our thoughts by the standard of his Word, as well in the less as in the more important concerns and affairs of life, and when we study to enjoy his divine approbation in all that we do. Of all the motives which can govern man, the purest and the most perfect is that which arises from a knowledge of his relation to the omnipresent Jehovah, as the present witress, and the future judge, of his life; in whose book of remembrance every action, and every thought is recorded; and by whom he shall have his state distinguished and his character declared on the great day of account before an assembled universe. Other motives, such as a love of reputation, and a regard to temporal interests, may produce a partial and deceptive, but this will necessarily give rre to a spiritual, permanency and comprehensive conformity to the divine will. The law of the Lord is perfect, both in itself and in its effect, in its intrinsic principles, and in its operation upon every heart that comes under its power. To act aright on great occasions, or when particular exigencies may call for it, and render it cases. necessary, is an effort of which almost all men, who are not utterly demoralized in their natures, can show themselves capable. They will behave with seriousness and decorum, for instance, in regard to religious duties, in the church, however unmindful of them they may be in their closets, or however far their hearts may be from being right in the sight of God. They will refrain from those darker crimes which outrage and disturb society, and draw down a sentence of condemnation from a human judgment-seat upon their perpetrators, whatever freedom they may take with the divine law, in so far as it forbids intemperance in the use of meats or drinks, or other sins, which are more of a private and personal, than of a public and general nature. But when the grace of God operates upon the heart of an individual, it renders him careful against offending in small any more than in great, in secret any more than in open and flagrant Every one is familiar with an observation which has often been made, with regard to the contrasting, in material productions, between the perfection and inconceivable minuteness and accuracy of the divine workmanship, and the rugged coarseness betrayed by the finest operations of human art or manufacture. A blade, the more closely it is examined, shows a texture incomparably regular and beautiful, so that the minute lines are seen to be finished with the nicest accuracy; whereas a piece of cloth, however seemingly beautiful and smooth, betrays, on a microscopic investigation of its nature, a remarkable ruggedness and inequality. Now, in like manner, as we discern the glory of God in the care and precision with which he works in the world of matter, we may also distinguish it by the fulness and completeness with which he proceeds in the work of conversion, in renewing and purifying the human soul. No duty will seem too small or trivial to be discharged, and no sin too light or unimportant to be avoided, by those who have the fear of God in their hearts as their ruling and directing principle, and who have resolved to honour its sacred authority. They will assign to religion no limited or partial constraint; but, knowing its universal application, will carry it into their affairs and concerns, domestic and public, personal and relative, and submit the moderation of their table, the modesty of their apparel, the adjustment of their household affairs, their manners, their language, their demeanour, their desires, and, in short, every thing relating to them, to its government and authority. We read of those whose god is their belly, and who mind earthly things; but the Christian will show his moderation in all things, and will eat to live, and not, like the beasts that perish, live to eat. He will guard against every sinful excess, and avoid the vortex of dissipation, luxury, and prodigality with habitual care and self-denial. There is, indeed, a false austerity, a punctilious scrupulosity, and a gloomy superstition, which he will carefully avoid. We are to see and acknowledge the goodness of God in all our blessings, and enjoy with gratitude the precious bounties of will of God were duly reverenced and his glory. desired! We should then no more see those wretched scenes of dissipation and intemperance. which disgrace our race,-immortal and rational beings drowning their reason, and sacrificing their happiness at the shrine of a brutal intoxication; wretched families involved in poverty, and seduced to crime, by the unnatural sensuality of cruel and selfish parents; and every higher interest and finer affection outraged and violated, in a degraded pursuit of pernicious and destructive pleasure. his providence. The disciples, as you read in the Acts of the Apostles, "continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favour with all the people." Our Saviour countenanced, on many occasions, the hospitable board, to which he was invited, and there delivered some of his most interesting and impressive instructions. We are not then called upon by the Gospel to enter upon a system of ascetic austerity and gloom, for there is a thankfulness, contentment, and cheerfulness congenial with pure religion, which has a moral beauty, that seems, in no ordinary degree, to show forth the glory of God. But the prevailing tendency is not towards the extreme of austerity, but towards that of voluptuousness, and sensuality, and excess. Every irreligious age has also been one of carnal gratification. Such is described to be a particular feature of the character of the world in the days of Noe, and such also will it be at the coming of the Son of man. Faith and religion will almost be extinguished, but luxury, and pride, and volup-selves, without infinite guilt and dishonour, to tuousness will everywhere prevail. But we farther perceive the obligation to live to the glory of God, when we carry forward our anticipations to a future state, and estimate the connection between so doing and securing our salvation in the eternal world. A traveller will be short and temperate in his meals, and will subordinate every thing connected with them to the prosecution of his journey, and would deem it madness to go out of his way, or delay his progress for the mere gratification of an ignoble appetite. And shall immortal beings allow them grovel in sensual pursuits and indulgences, to in- sense? But this leads us to consider shortly, in conclusion, the obligation of the precept in the text. That we ought to make the will of God our rule, and his glory the end of our existence, is evident from every consideration that we can enter into in regard to his nature, perfections, and other attributes. He is our Creator, from whom we have received existence, and to whom we are indebted for its continued preservation, and nothing can be more just, nothing more obligatory, than to employ our existence in accordance with the design for which he has been pleased to confer it. Wherever we direct our thoughts, we are surrounded with witnesses, which invite and encourage us to join with them in giving glory to God. The angels who fill the courts of heaven, and worship with lowly reverence before the eternal throne, who are ready to fulfil each high behest of their Almighty King, with cordial alacrity and joy, who start back from no duty committed to them as too mean for them to perform, and from no service as too arduous, present us with an example of duteous compliance with the divine will, which we cannot admire too highly, nor imitate too closely. But even within the precincts of the visible creation,-in the steady and constant revolution of the starry heavens, ever circling their courses with majestic regularity and harmony, in the beautiful adjustment Having entered a shop," writes the Colporteur, and government of every thing connected with "for the purpose of offering a New Testament for the various elements of nature,-in the sea, restraining itself within its bounds at the Creator's sale, I found an old man, upwards of eighty years of age, who, after listening for some time to the account will,-in the earth, blossoming in spring, and which I gave of the opposition I had experienced on bearing its fruits in autumn,-in the sweet inter- the part of the Vicar, told me that he was not at all change of day and night, and in the various surprised at it, being long aware that the Clergy were ordinances which diffuse order and happiness opposed to the dissemination of the Holy Scriptures. throughout creation, we see multiplied invitations held forth to us to live to the glory of God. What blessedness, what dignity, what excellence would pervade and characterise human society, if the THE NEW TESTAMENT. In a letter received from M. de Pressense, the Bible Society's Agent in Paris, dated August 9, 1838, he communicates the following pleasing fact received from a Colporteur, or hawker :— 66 In the course of our conversation, the old man quoted proved to me that he was not unacquainted with the a number of passages out of the Old Testament, which Bible. I questioned him on the subject, when he stated, in reply, that he had only read the Old Testa ment, of which he possessed a copy; but that he had "never been so fortunate as to see the New; which he was however very anxious to do. 'Well then,' said I, you have a fine opportunity at present, for I can let you have a New Testament at a very low price.' That may be,' replied he, but, alas! it is long since I have ceased to work,-I earn nothing,—and, in truth, I have no property whatever; so that I am without the means of purchasing one; still I am delighted at the thought that there are Societies of Christians whose object it is to circulate the Scriptures. Perhaps there may be some copies of the New Testament in that part of the town where I live; and if so, I shall be able to borrow one, for the purpose of reading it; for God has been so merciful to me as to enable me still to read without spectacles. But pray come,' continued the old man, pray come along with me, and read a few passages to me and my wife; it will do us both good.' Accordingly I followed him to his dwelling, and there read several passages from the New Testament, which I accompanied with a few remarks. The old man, on his part also, made very pertinent observations on what he heard; which convinced me that he was a person of much intelligence. As he expressed a desire to read for himself, I placed the book in his hands. He ran through several passages; occasionally lifting up his eyes, and seemingly lost in thought. At length, he exclaimed, What a misfortune that I did not know this sacred volume sooner! The days of my pilgrimage are already numbered; and I am on the brink of the grave!' Still, it is not too late,' said I, since the Almighty has been pleased to preserve you in health, and to enable you to read without the use of spectacles.'True,-very true,' replied he; ́ and I am grateful to Him for all his mercies! Well then,' added I, see if you cannot purchase a New Testament.' The poor man seemed deeply moved,-a tear rolled down his furrowed cheek, and at last he stammered out, I cannot,-I cannot; for I am not possessed of a penny in all the world!' Oh, if that be really the case,' returned I, then let me entreat you to keep the book which you now hold in your hands; for I will make you a present of it.' No sooner had I uttered these words, than he lifted up both hands, in token of his gratitude; and I was so touched by his whole manner that I could scarcely refrain from uniting with him in weeping for joy. In the sequel, he told me that he had long separated from the Church of Rome, without ever having had the good fortune to become acquainted with a Protestant Christian; but that since that had fallen to his lot, he could die content. After having some further conversation, I commended him to God; and bade adieu to him and to his wife, who was as aged as himself. He thanked me afresh, expressing the warmest wishes for the extension of the kingdom of God on earth, and more especially in France." CHRISTIAN TREASURY. The Valley of the Shadow of Death.-Between the part of the flock on earth and that which is gone to heaven, death lies like a dark valley that must be passed in going from one to the other. But even in this delineation of the deepest distress, there are words that lessen the terror. Let us consider them as affording encouraging illustrations. It is but the shadow of death; the shadow of a serpent will not sting, nor the shadow of sword kill. It is the valley of the shadow, deep, indeed, and dark and miry; but valleys are often fruitful, and so is death itself fruitful of comforts to God's people. It is a walk through it; they shall not be lost in this valley, but get safe to the mountain on the other side. Should his soul draw nigh to the grave, and the sorrows of death compass him about, and he is upon the brink and borders of eternity, he should be fearless of evil, and sing, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?"-Commentary from Henry and Scott. Past trials to be remembered.-The remembrance of our past troubles, and of the impressions which they produced, should recal to our minds what we then intended to do, and what we have forgotten to do. Let us turn over the book of our lives: we are fond of reading many books; but no book next to the Bible will do us so much good as reading the history of the dispensations of providence in our own particular cases. "Thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God hath led thee, to prove thee and to know what was in thy heart." Let us particularly dwell on the pages of distress, and on the special deliverances afforded us: these are to be gratefully remembered.CECIL. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. MRS HAWKES. PART III. BY THE EDITOR. THE intimate friendship which had for several years previous subsisted between Mrs Hawkes and Mr and Mrs Cecil, rendered her residence under their roof remarkably pleasant. The enjoyment of Christian society and intercourse was heightened by contrast with the carnality and chilling worldliness to which she had been exposed in the house of her husband. Still the feeling of dependence was painful to her generous spirit, and she was often harassed with the thought, that she was, perhaps, putting the family of her kind and hospitable friend to serious inconvenience. For some time she cherished the hope that, amid the wreck of her worldly fortunes, the house at Holloway might be preserved. But, at length, even this expectation was disappointed. The house, with every thing belonging to it, was sold, and Mrs Hawkes was thrown upon the generosity of Mr Cecil, not only in a state of complete poverty, but without a home. Her private fortune was absorbed in the general fund, and, not having been settled upon her by a marriage-contract, was seized by the creditors. The state of extreme destitution, however, to which she was now reduced only rendered her a more welcome guest in the house of her pastor; and, during the six happy years which she spent with the family, she embraced every opportunity of assisting Mrs Cecil in the management of her large family. It was in October 1796 that Mrs Hawkes was received into the family of her affectionate pastor, and, in the July following, she went to Portsmouth, where Mr Hawkes had some opening prospects. While there she was seized with a severe illness, and she had also a narrow escape from being drowned while bathing. Of this latter event she gives the following account in her diary : "Portsmouth, July 17, 1797.-By the special providence of God, I was this day delivered from the very jaws of death. A sudden movement of the bathing-machine, threw me violently down the steps into the sea. The machine was drawn very swiftly up the beach, while the waves carried me some way further into the sea. I expected to be soon launched into the wide ocean. When most wonderfully, I know not how, I felt myself drifted by the waves back again; and turning on my hands and knees, I crept towards the shore. But as no assistance was near, I every moment expected a returning wave to sweep me away for ever. In this situation, I cried, 'Lord save me !' and to his saving help it alone belongs, that I am alive at this moment, to record his wonderful deliverance. "The attendants, though wishing to put the best face upon the affair, seemed involuntarily to assure me they had given me up for lost! and my kind friend M. M., in the midst of her distress, never more expecting to see me, save as a corpse, began to say to herself, concerning me, now her troubles are all over l' "But a wise and overruling providence had otherwise determined; and only presented death to my view, without giving me into its power. I am deeply impressed with this truth, that there is but a step between life and death, and that true wisdom consists in standing at all times prepared for the awful change. The voice of this deliverance is, (and oh, may I have ears to hear!) Let your loins be girded about, and your lights burning.' Luke xii. 34-43; also Psalm cxxi. seems particularly appropriate and as the Lord hath so wonderfully preserved my going out and coming in, I trust he will for ever watch over his unworthy creature for good." In the beginning of October Mrs Hawkes left Portsmouth and joined Mrs Cecil at Battersea Rise, where she enjoyed pleasant retirement. During her residence with her pastor's family she generally passed a part of the summer either in the Isle of Wight, where Mr Hawkes occasionally resided, or with Mrs Jones at Birmingham. Unwilling to be entirely dependent upon her friends and relatives, she was desirous of undertaking some employment. At one time she thought of opening a boarding-school, but the difficulties were such as to prevent her from following out her plans. And it was soon apparent that it had been in great kindness that Providence detained her in the house of Mr Cecil, for, in the winter of 1798, when that eminent minister of Christ was laid on a bed of sickness, she was enabled to wait upon him with unremitting attention, and thus to relieve the mind of Mrs Cecil, who was herself in a state of great weakness. The feelings of Mrs Hawkes, on this distressing occasion, are thus briefly stated in a letter to a friend : "Since my return to town, I have been a sad witness and sharer of much sorrow. Our revered minister, and my truest friend, has been pronounced, by the physicians, dangerously ill; and we have had nothing but death before our eyes. You will easily conceive the gloom such an event must shed here, and of the distress of dearest Mrs Cecil. Such a scene I never before witnessed! I think myself much honoured and privileged, in being permitted to assist at this time of need, and I trust I shall gain many important lessons. A sick and dying-bed, is very instructive and solemn; and it exhibits most wonderfully the reality and worth of true religion. To behold a mind quiet, resigned, and comforted, in the most painful circumstances, is a fine sight! Well might Balaam say, 'Let me die the death of the righteous.' And may you and I add, let me live their life, for it is the only happy one." The illness of Mr Cecil lasted about three months, at the end of which it pleased God to raise him up again, and to enable him to resume his public ministrations. In the course of a short time after, the health of Mrs Hawkes, which had been long delicate, began to be seriously affected, and the internal tumour began to manifest itself, under which she laboured for thirty years. From this period we find in her diary frequent references to her bodily sufferings. Thus,― "Nov. 1799. My ill health and depressed spirits make me a burden to myself and all about me. It is in such sufferings as these that I long to hide myself and my complaints in obscurity. If I had more faith, I should be more patient, and content, and thankful, in every place, and especially in this. O that I might be called to that only home, where sin, sickness, or sorrow shall never enter ! "Dec. 3, 1799, Little James Street.-My sufferings of body are very peculiar and threatening. While I appear in health, I am undergoing the sharpest pains, often unknown to any but myself. These sufferings, sad to say, make me peevish and impatient. Surely no where in this world shall I find friends that will endure and overlook such manifold and manifest faults, as my beloved ones here; so true do I find it that love 'beareth all things.' Instead of the reproof I merit, I meet pity and tender sympathy. How merciful is my appointment!" And, some time after, when she was seized with alarming symptoms, and had passed the summer of 1801 under severe sufferings and constant medical attendance, we find her remarking, "Little James Street, Sept.-I have gone through such a process as I never expected! My sorrows are very bitter, yet I dare not repine. I know that my mercies are far greater than I deserve, and though my trials are sharp, I am not the only one that has passed through the same. Oh for faith and patience to hold out to the end! I would bear in mind, that as my medical friend kindly attends to mark, and, if possible, to mitigate, my disease, so I have One who has also a process to carry on, in order to bring about a mighty work; even that of preparing a poor sinner for a hea venly inheritance. I desire to commit myself entirely to Him who doeth all things well. There is enough in Rev. xxi. 3, 4, to comfort me under all." The protracted nature of her disease rendered the sensitive mind of Mrs Hawkes apprehensive lest she should be burdensome to Mr Cecil's family, and besides as the family were under the necessity of spending four or five months of the year at a distance from town, her sister, Mrs Jones, came to London with the view of making some arrangements for the permanent accommodation of her sister. These were at length effected, and Mrs Hawkes was removed, in September 1802, to the house of Mr Collyer, a pious member of Mr Cecil's congregation, who had married her niece. The feelings of Mrs Cecil on this, to her, trying separation, are thus expressed in a letter which she wrote to Mrs Hawkes: "I confess to you, my dearest sister, and beloved friend, there is but one rich gift I covet, and that is, that you might be thrown into my lot, to live and die with me and mine. This would be no impoverishing circumstance; I could only view it as a certain increase of my own and my children's inheritance. I have sometimes thought this might be; and then I have seen why I had a house large enough to receive you, as well as a heart fully ready to meet this favour. thought, also, that even were I taken away, I should leave you among my children, as their guardian and friend. And I have I "I most cordially thank you for your letter; I cannot express how much pleasure it afforded me. scribble a line now, and for my apparent neglect, have one plea which I hope will be accepted, namely, having had eighteen in family for some days past. Ah! I never have so many as not to regret that I have not one more! One, whose society has afforded me more real pleasure than all other I ever enjoyed. "I am grieved to hear, both from yourself and others, of the increase of your pain. You have need to look to a better country, where pain, and sorrow, and sighing flee away—as I know you do. Nevertheless, I am aware how delicate a recipient of sympathy you are, and I feel a sad regret that I am unable now to render you more than sympathy; for I am not content to offer you only that which you must receive from every common friend." As Mrs Hawkes was tried in the furnace, it is quite evident, in perusing her diary, that she underwent a gradual process of purification of heart. The clouds of darkness and unbelief disappear, and faith and hope are in lively exercise. Her former painful depression of mind gives way to a cheerful acquiescence in the divine will. She was now constantly confined to her sickchamber, but, by her edifying conversation, she was made useful to many who came to visit her, and, by her correspondence, she stimulated and encouraged many who had no opportunity of enjoying the privilege of her company. In the year 1804, her disease appears to have increased so much in intensity, that she thenceforth discontinued her regular diary, and only occasionally gave expression to her feelings, probably at intervals of ease, on separate scraps of paper. She was very rarely able to attend public ordinances, and when she did attend, she could only be conveyed to church on an elastic cushion placed between the seats of a hackney coach; and the paroxyms of her pain frequently prevented her from remaining until the service had closed. She entered fully, however, into the feelings of the Psalmist when he said, "How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord God of hosts!" and therefore, as often as her health permitted, she was carried to the sanctuary that she might meet with her heavenly Father in the courts of his own house. In the beginning of 1808 Mrs Hawkes was deeply distressed by the melancholy tidings that her revered minister had been suddenly seized with a paralytic affection. On this subject she expresses herself in the following language: March 2, 1808. This melancholy day confirms the fears and sorrowful apprehensions which have, for months past, pervaded my mind. I, and many others, have marked, with anguish of heart not to be expressed, my honoured minister's rapid approach to the sad crisis at which he is now arrived; probably never again to re-ascend that eminence on which he has so long stood! Yesterday evening, he felt a paralytic affection of his right hand; and after going to bed, the use of his whole right side was taken away, and his speech rendered very inarticulate. "I have long expected this solemn event, and have endeavoured to prepare my mind to meet it. But on the sight of my dear minister this day, I found how little my feelings could be prepared to meet so afflictive a circumstance. Language can never describe my sensations on seeing that grand temple, which I had known in all its glory, so defaced, so injured! Oh, what is man in his very best estate! Alas for his widowed church! Alas, for his bereaved family! Alas, for my own irreparable loss! My father, my father!' Weeping is now my meat and drink!" And, in reference to the same point, Mrs Jones remarks : "I must confess, this world never appeared to me such a waste, howling wilderness,-such a vale of tears, as since I have entered into the sorrows of that man of God! What shall we say to these things? but that they are too deep for us; we cannot know them; we must be dumb because of our ignorance. Herbert says, 'God nothing does, nor suffers to be done, But what thou wouldst thyself, couldst thou but see, * * Death caine "Belle-vue, Hampstead, Sept. 1810.- My father, my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof!" a voice. he is gone! But to me also a voice. I would follow him as my example, and devote every future moment to the great work of preparation for a dying hour. here, and seized the captive in an instant: so may I expect him to come to me. 'Be ye also ready.' My valued and honoured father bad but one inquiry,'what is most needful for a dying man?' Every thing else was, by him, deemed impertinent. If he was requested to lay aside his books, and rest his poring eyes, and relax his weary mind, his reply was, Why talk of relaxation to a dying creature? If it were not from stupidity, forgetfulness, and infatuation, every human being would feel the same. It is only because death and eternity are not realized as near, (though for aught we know, death is this moment coming over the threshold,) that we can turn aside to amusement, or any trifling pursuit whatever; for how does it all appear to us, when entering the valley and shadow of death! Verily altogether vanity.' "I am now ready to say, I shall never any more look to any creature for consolation. Painful experience has taught me the vanity of every earthly prop; and henceforth my expectation is only from my Saviour. To this my heart fully consents in its best moments; I am well assured that this is the only way of peace and comfort, and that many of my sorrows have arisen from leaning on an arm of flesh. As far as I know, I say sincerely, I no longer desire any human arm to rest upon. And yet I often detect a depression of spirits, when I reflect, such and such a friend, who used kindly to visit me, and seem interested for me, is withdrawn, and I am left solitary and desolate. How inconsistent is this! How deceitful is the heart! How far from being really, and indeed weaned from every creature, even when we fancy it so." Nine years had elapsed since Mrs Hawkes went to reside with her niece in Constitution Row; and it is probable she would have remained with her, had she not received the very tempting offer of a vacant parsonage-house at Betchworth, near Dorking, in Surrey, belonging to her much valued friend, the Rev. Dr Fearon. At first she indulged the hope that she would enjoy the retirement, but her health, instead of improving, suffered from the change, and she was under the necessity of returning to London. Through the winter she had been exposed to damp, which occasioned a serious inflammation of the eyes, as well as a severe rheumatic pain in the face. In these circumstances, she returned to town by the advice of her friends in the spring of 1812. Published by JOHN JOHNSTONE, 2, Hunter Square, Edinburgh; J. R. MACNAIR, & Co., 19, Glassford Street, Glasgow; JAMES NISBET & Co., HAMILTON, ADAMS, & Co., and R. GROOMBRIDGE, London; W. CURRY, Junior, & Co., Dublin; and W. M'COMB, Belfast; and sold by the Booksellers and Local Agents in all the Towns and Parishes of Scotland; and in the principal Towns in England and Ireland. Subscribers will have their copies delivered at their Residences. |