ladies, pocketed the insult, and continued to play all the way up the river. During the evening, however, he observed the officer by himself in one of the walks, and making up to him, said, with great coolness, "It was, sir, to avoid interrupting the harmony either of my company or yours, that I complied with your arrogant demand; but, that you may be satisfied courage may be found under a black coat as well as under a red one, I expect that you will meet me to-morrow morning, without any second, the quarrel being entirely entre nous." The doctor further covenanted, that the affair should be decided by swords. To all these conditions the officer assented. The duellists met; but the moment the officer took his ground, the doctor pulled out a horse-pistol. "What!" said the officer, "do you intend to assassinate me?" "No," replied the doctor, "but you shall instantly put up your sword and dance a minuet, otherwise you are a dead man." The officer began to bluster, but the doctor was resolute, and he was obliged to comply. "Now," said Young, "you forced me to play against my will, and I have made you dance against yours; we are therefore again on a level; and, whatever other satisfaction you may require, I am ready to give it." The officer, convinced of the impropriety of his conduct, immediately begged his antagonist's pardon, and they afterwards lived on very friendly terms.

LAVALETTE.

When Lavalette had been liberated from prison by his wife, and was flying with Sir Robert Wilson to the frontier, the postmaster examined his countenance, and recognised him through his disguise. A postilion was instantly sent off at full speed. M. de Lavalette urged his demand for horses. The postmaster had just quitted the house, and given orders that none should be supplied. The travellers thought themselves discovered, and seeing no means of escaping, in a country with which they were unacquainted, they resolved upon defending themselves, and selling their lives dearly. The postmaster at length returned unattended, and then addressing himself to M. de Lavalette, he said, "You have the appearance of a man of honour; you are going to Brussels, where you will see M. de Lavalette; deliver him these 200 louis-d'ors, which I owe him, and which he is no doubt in want of;" and, without waiting for an answer, he threw the money into the carriage and withdrew, saying, "You will be drawn by my best horses; a postilion is gone on to provide relays for the continuance of your journey."

WHAT IS GEOLOGY?

Geology, considered merely as a science, is embarrassed with one peculiar difficultywe have no means of testing the truth of its inferences by existing facts, or operations still going on. It is not like astronomy, which gives an account of the daily and hourly courses of machinery still in operation, the truth of which every one may test by observing the present motions of the heavenly bodies. It is not like botany, or any

branch of natural history, the subjects of which we may still find living, growing, multiplying according to known laws, and regulated by present times and seasons. It is not like chemistry or experimental science, where we can repeat or vary the experiments, and may predict or verify the results. Geology has to do with a machinery, the course of which is stopped-the parts disjointed and lying in fragments-and which we neither know how to put together, nor can compare with anything analogous. It is a caput mor tuum, whose proportions have been altered in the shock by which its life became extinct. It is a laboratory on so gigantic a scale, and with such stupendous results, that we can neither attempt to repeat them, nor truly conceive how they have been effected, or what might have been the consequences if it were otherwise. The facts of geology lie as the wrecks and ruins of what once was, in a state of things no longer in existence; and it is like questioning a range of mummies in a sepulchre, to endeavour to extract an answer from these facts-the thoughts, feelings, and affections of the mummies may be more nearly inferred than can the former constitution of the earth from geologic facts.-Sacred Geology.

SCOFFERS IN THE TEMPLE OF SCIENCE.

Let me express my hope, that whenever you open the great book of nature, you may always do so with a devout and reverent feeling towards the Almighty Author of all. I am not unmindful of the fact that I may be addressing members of other forms of Christian faith than my own. Nothing shall pass my lips in the shape of controversy, or which can give pain to the holders of other creeds, but I desire to warn you against that irreligion which is their and our common enemy. Be assured that those minds most deeply imbued with the discoveries of science are the least inclined to treat sacred subjects with anything approaching to irreverence. It may have happened to many among you, in passing some church or chapel, or other place of worship, to observe, whilst the worshippers were busy within, that there were some scoffers at the door. Just so it is with the temple of science. It is only at its por tals that the scoffers can be found. Those who have entered that temple, who have studied its mysteries, who have heard the voice of its oracle, are the most deeply impressed with the truth that there is an Almighty Being above us, and that he has designed to reveal himself to man. You must bear in mind that such men as Newton and Pascal, and some of the greatest minds this world has ever known, were not at the first free from doubts and scepticism, but as their experience increased, as their observation extended, as their judgment became matured, they became devout and reverent believers in a Supreme Power. Bear this truth in mind. Many of you may not have leisure or opportunity to examine for yourselves the arguments on which these truths are founded, but, bear this fact in mind, that these arguments have subdued minds infinitely stronger

than our own-minds, so far as philosophy and science are concerned, infinitely greater than any of the present age. This is surely no unimportant reflection, and one which I commend earnestly to your serious consideration and thought.

HINTS TO YOUNG LADIES.

A great deal of time is wasted in winter, in hovering over the fire and talking of the cold, in delaying to set about a piece of work, because it requires one to leave a warm room. But a little resolution will remedy all this. You can make yourselves as comfortable by taking your work or book, and sitting at a moderate distance from the fire, as by hanging idly over it; and if you run off briskly after what you need, the exercise will warm you better than the parlour-fire.

There is time enough in a well-ordered day, for everything that a young lady ought to do. Time enough for her morning and evening consultation with her conscience, and seeking for communion with God; time enough for a careful and exact toilet, for household duties, for study; time enough for exercise in the open air, for visits of ceremony, and visits to the poor; for family intercourse, for serious and light reading, for needle-work and accomplishments; nothing need be left undone for want of time if you only know how to economise that most precious possession, and are resolute to perform all that you can.

The habit of setting yourself to work quietly, promptly, and resolutely, helps on the business of the day wonderfully. I have seen one sister half through a task that was not agreeable to either, whilst the other was lamenting the necessity of doing it, and considering how to get through it with the least trouble. Those who talk much of what they do, or are going to do, are not those who accomplish the most.-Young Lady's Friend.

CHRISTIANITY DIVINE.

As by dissecting a dead body we see the order and position of parts in the living, so by searching into the legal types we may discover the truth of evangelical mysteries. Accordingly, St. Paul framed a powerful demonstration from the Scriptures to prove that Jesus was the Christ. In his writings he deciphers the riddles of the law, and removes the veil to discover the face of Christ engraven by the Divine artificer. Briefly by showing the consent between the two Testaments, he illustrates the Old by the New, and confirms the New by the Old. Now, what religion is there in the world, whose mysteries were foretold by the oracles of God, and figured by his institutions above 2,000 years before it was exhibited, whose doctrine perfectly accords with the most ancient, venerable, and divine writings? Can that religion be any other than divine, which God did so expressly predict, and pourtray in such various manners, for the receiving whereof he made such early preparations in the world? Certainly, without offering the greatest violence to our rational faculties, none can disbelieve it. He degrades himself from the dignity of being a man, that refuses to be a Christian.-Bates.

THE DEATH OF CHRIST. The Son of God endured no gentler nor nobler death than the cross. His pure and gracious hands, which were never stretched out but to do good, were pierced; and those feet which bore the Redeemer of the world, and for which the waters had a reverence, were nailed. His body, the precious workmanship of the Holy Ghost, the temple of the Deity, was destroyed. He that is the glory of heaven, was made the scorn of the earth. The King of kings was crucified between two thieves in Jerusalem, at their sacred feast, in the face of the world. His naked body was exposed on the cross for three hours, only covered with a veil of darkness. This was such a stupendous submission in the Son of God, that his death astonished the universe in another manner than his birth and life, his resurrection and ascension. Universal nature relented at his last sufferings. The sun was struck with horror, and withdrew its light. It did not appear crowned with beams when the Creator was crowned with thorns. The earth trembled and the rocks were rent. The most insensible creatures sympathised with him; and it is in this we have the most visible instance of Divine love to us.-Bates.

ADAM'S SIN

Was a bloody cruelty to himself and to all his posterity. When God had made him a depository in a matter of infinite moment; that is, of his own happiness and all mankind's, this should have been a powerful motive to have kept him vigilant. But giving a ready ear to the tempter, he betrayed his trust, and at once broke both the tables of the law, and became guilty of the highest impiety and cruelty. He was a murderer before a parent. He disinherited all his children before they were born, and made them slaves before they knew the price of liberty. And that which increases the malignity of this sin and adds an infinite emphasis to it, is, that it was perfectly voluntary. His will was the sole cause of his fall!Bates.

THE UNHOLY PROFESSOR.

An unholy Christian is a real apostate from Christ, that retracts by his wickedness the dedication that was made of him in his baptism. Although he doth not abjure our Saviour in words, he "denies him in his works." A proud person renounces his humility; the revengeful, his mercy; the lukewarm, his zeal; the unclean, his purity; the covetous, his bounty and compassion; the hypocrite, his sincerity. And can there be anything more indecent and absurd, than to pretend the relation and respect of disciples to such a holy master, and yet by disobedience to deny him? When the bloody spectacles of the gladiators were first brought to Athens, a wise man cried out to the masters of the prizes, that they should remove the statue and altar of mercy out of the city, there being such an incongruity between the goddess they pretended to worship, and that cruel sacrifice of men for the sport of the people; so it were more suitable for those who

brated seat of learning he sought in vain for even one like-minded with himself. Unlike Howell Harris, however, who left Oxford because of its impiety, he remained at his college, and continued steadfast to his principles. He was a Christian, and he avowed himself such. He was branded as a Methodist, but he was confessed to be a saint. They said, "He is not for our turn, and he is clean contrary to our doings; he upbraideth us with our offending the law, and objecteth to our infamy the transgressings of our education. He professeth to have the knowledge of God, and he calleth himself the child of the Lord. He was made to reprove our thoughts. He is grievous unto us even to behold, for his life is not like other men's, his ways are of another fashion. We are esteemed by him as counterfeits. He abstaineth from our ways as from filthiness; he pronounceth the end of the just to be blessed, and maketh his boast that God is his father. Let us see if his words be true, and let us prove what shall happen in the end to him; for if the just man be the Son of God, he will help him, and deliver him from the hand of his enemies. Let us examine him with despitefulness and torture, that we may know his meekness and prove his patience.' Such things they did imagine, and were deceived, for their own wickedness hath blinded them. As for the mysteries of God, they knew them not, neither hoped they for the wages of righteousness, nor discerned a reward for blameless souls."

Well, "by pureness, by knowledge, by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned, by the word of truth, by the power of God, by the armour of righteousness on the right hand and on the left," he secured respect for himself and honour for his Master. When he left the college, he rejoiced to know that there were at least twelve members of the university who were not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, amongst whom were the celebrated names of Pentycross, Simpson, and Dr. Coetlogan. His zeal was not to be checked by human forms, nor was he to wait the permission of man to speak to his lost fellowcreatures of the Gospel of mercy. Before entering college, he had begun to go among the poor, and talk to them of the Saviour. He enlarged his

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sphere as he felt the increase of his grace and fitness. While yet an undergraduate, having obtained_ready access to the Tabernacle and Tottenham-court chapel, he preached in both these celebrated places, and in the open air to vast multitudes. This, of course, subjected him to censure from the heads of the National Church, and interfered with his obtaining priest's orders, as also with his ecclesiastical promotion; and hence he never advanced beyond "deacon's orders," so called; he was not ordained a priest. With a little more patience, and, perhaps, prudence, he might have attained the highest orders and the highest honours of the Establishment, and, perhaps, have gained in enlarged influence and authority, and means of usefulness, among the higher classes of the community, and classes from whom all Dissenters are necessarily debarred. He had no objections to the Church, as such, and he never professed to be a Dissenter. His mind moved in a region so lofty as to raise him far above the circumstances which narrow the views, and contract the hearts, and fetter the operations of ordinary men. His notions of fellowship partook less of earth than of heaven. He was equally superior to the love of lucre on the one hand, and to mere circumstantials on the other. Perhaps no man in the past or present century so perfectly accorded with George Whitefield. He was chiefly solicitous about those things which will remain when time shall be no more. He said, "My desire is to win souls, not livings. If I can secure the bees, I care not who gets the hives." As to Dissenters, he said all were alike to him, who were of the "right sort." No part of his nature, perhaps, had approximated so near to heaven as this, and no part of it has received so little in being "made perfect." He loved here all that loved the Lord; and he does no more now, in kind and essence, though he does in measure. He seemed desirous not to forget, that though men's churches might be many, God's church was, and is, and can be, but one; and of that one, he viewed every member, rich and poor, as a brother. On this subject the range of his conception was truly magnificent. On that, and on kindred points, he was worthy to have been a companion and disciple of the apostle of the Gentiles.

2 K

Everything in his moral and theological system was great, natural, and noble. Never man more abhorred systematic constraint of whatever description. This spirit appeared in his speech, in his preaching, and in his general deportment. His discourses, apart from his peculiarities, were of the most apostolic stamp, equally in style, matter, and manner. They were a remarkable union of unsophisticated truth and unsophisticated nature, and hence the interest taken in them by all classes of mankind; hence, too, in a measure, the blessing of God that rested upon them. Here, also, he bore a striking resemblance to Mr. Whitefield. The elements of moral sublimity were very largely mixed up with his character. One of these was his inherent love of simplicity and generalization. This grand principle rendered his attachment very strong to such institutions as are distinguished by that noble and Christian feature. This it was which endeared to him, above all others, the Bible and London missionary societies. His attachment to all Christian institutions was strong, but his love to these amounted to a passion. He found in their constitution, means, and end, such largehearted liberality, such enlightened simplicity, a principle of comprehension so vast, as harmoniously to comprise, in one labour of benevolence, all that love God and love man. He seemed to think, that as there is but one Bible, one society sufficed for its diffusion throughout the world; and as there is but one Gospel, that one other society was competent to propa gate it among all the tribes of men; and that the constituency of these societies ought to consist of and to embrace all who love that Bible and believe that Gospel, whatever their parties, sects, or names, or systems.

In no light did his character appear more lovely, or his real native greatness more unquestionably manifest itself, than in the readiness and versatility with which he adapted his mind and labours to all the changing circumstances of the church and of the world. The youngest man among us did not enter more fully into the objects, spirit, and character of the times than did this patriarchal man. He had none of the stiffness and rigidity of an old man, who could approve of nothing that was younger

than his father, who was sure that nothing new could be good, who was sure that all change must be deterioration, who valued the end less than the means, and who uniformly sacrificed reason, utility, and experience, at the shrine of antiquity, usage, and prescription. No his inquiry never was, What is old? but, What is good? If both old and good, so much the better; but mere antiquity was not allowed to shelter absurdity. He acted as a reasonable being intent on the best ends, and availing himself of every instrument, whether new or old, which was suited to his purpose. Hence he was the first and foremost of our day in the patronage and support of all those institutions which grace our land and bless our people. Missions of all kinds, home and foreign; schools, day and Sabbath, infant and others, orphan and charity, free and paid; book societies, tract societies, district-visiting societies, societies for relief of the helpless poor, and all kindred institutions, found in him all that benevolence and humanity can find in a man. In these, and other respects, he was a high pattern to all Christians and to all ministers. His whole soul was Christian, Catholic, missionary, that is, apostolic !

Mr. Hill preached the last time on Sabbath, March 31st, 1833, from 1 Cor. ii. 7. When he descended from the pulpit, a friend asked him how long he thought he had preached; he replied, "About ten or fifteen minutes, I suppose." He had been about fifty! On the Tuesday, frailty notwithstanding, he addressed the teachers of the Sundayschool Union with a fervour uncommon even to him, and was much exhausted. He never entered Surrey chapel again, till carried in a dead man.

On Good Friday morning the venerable man complained of unusual lassitude; still he declined aid, and insisted on going to the pulpit; about ten o'clock, however, his weakness so much increased, that he found it necessary not to attempt going out. He requested the minister who took his place to apologise to his people, saying, "I cannot now do the things that I would. I hope I am not a lazy minister, though I am compelled to be an inactive one." On the evening of that day he manifested a temporary aberration of mind, which soon passed away. On the following day he indulged a wish to