who had moved in fashionable society, and was related to persons of rank, but who had lived a dissipated life, and had committed forgery to a great extent. He was tried and convicted at the Old Bailey, and sentenced to be hung. One who had known him formerly, and was anxious about his fate, called upon the writer, with whom he was acquainted, and besought him to visit the culprit in the condemned cells of Newgate, with a view of leading him to the important duty of repentance and faith in Christ for pardon. It was thought necessary to dispossess him of a confident hope which he entertained, from the interest made for him by his friends, of a remission of his sentence; since, till that was effected, it was not likely that he would pay a proper attention to the expostulations about to be addressed to him. The Recorder was seen, and it was learnt from him that the Prince Regent, to whom application had been made on his behalf, had determined, from the notoriety of his case, to refuse the exercise of the prerogative of mercy.

I found him in the condemned cell, heavily ironed. He was one of the finest men I ever beheld-tall, well dressed in mourning, and having the air of a perfect gentleman. On informing him of the name of his former acquaintance, at whose request and by whose aid I had obtained admission to him, he allowed me to converse with him; but on learning my object, he at once apprised me that it would be in vain, as he could not give his mind to such a subject, till the endeavours making for his release had succeeded, of which he had every reason, from the representations made to him, to be perfectly confident.

Feeling that nothing could be done with him in this state, I cautiously apprised him of our visit to the Recorder, and the result. He turned pale. He saw that he had been

C 2

deceived, and that his life was indeed in jeopardy. I availed myself of the opportunity to set before him the nature of that much more awful tribunal before which he was to appear, and the tremendously fearful sentence that awaited him there, unless his future Judge should, by his now sincere repentance, faith, and prayer, become his Saviour and Friend. I spoke of his mercifulness and compassion, as evinced in his death upon the cross for sinners, and conjured him at once to betake himself to him for forgiveness and salvation.

He listened to this impatiently, and at length said " Sir, I appreciate your motive. I am not ignorant of the truths you have been stating. You may be aware, from my name, of my connection with men who have been in high station. I was in my youth the companion of some dignitaries of the Church, and their example had no good effect upon me. You speak of multitudes of sins, but I perceive from your manner that you are little acquainted with iniquity. I could," said he, "unfold to you depths of iniquity which would make you stand aghast. But I am not now about to become the pusillanimous creature that calls for pity and mercy, when I know it cannot be shown me. I cannot feel; and I will not pray. You see that stone," he added, pointing to the pavement on which he stood; “it is an image of the insensibility of my heart to all the impressions you are striving to make."

I thought it best to leave him, but asked permission to see him again. "I am loth," he replied, "to refuse your kindness by a denial; but tell your friend, and assure yourself, it will be all in vain."

When I next saw him, he had learnt the truth of my statement, and received me, I thought, more respectfully. Again I renewed my representations, warnings, and expos

tulations. At this moment his wife and daughter were introduced to him, and for the first time I saw him shed tears.

They, however, were far less moved; for it appeared that he had for some time abandoned and plundered them. He had robbed his wife of all her jewellery and finery, and had driven past her residence with a female who was dressed in her apparel, and calling her to the window to mock her with the spectacle. When they were gone I returned again to my task; but I had not the consolation of perceiving that though he heard me patiently, there was the least glimpse of one soft emotion or feeling. "I told you," he said, when I had done, "it would be all in vain; I am -looking at me in a most determined manner- "PAST

On the evening previous to his execution, I visited him. again, and found him in no better state of mind, but considerably agitated with the thought of his approaching doom. "Good God!" said he, taking out his watch and examining the time, "I have but so many hours to live, and then !!" I asked if he would allow me to remain with him all night, and attend him in the morning? "If you wish it," said he, "you may, but upon condition that you do not interrupt me for a moment in the last sleep I am ever likely to have!" I was too much overcome myself to press the point, and left him. He remained in the same hardened state in the morning, and so departed out of the world. On the following Sabbath, I preached from the text, "No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him;" enforcing, from what I had seen, the danger of sinning away all drawing influence, by which alone the soul can be attracted to Jesus.

Cases of this description are among the most difficult

and painful which ministers of the Gospel are ever called upon to treat. All their efforts to produce impression are met by an inward resistance that chills their zeal and paralyses their spiritual strength. Although it is their duty to persevere and retain hope in God's mercy and grace to the last extremity, yet it is only by special communications of ardent love and strong faith that they can be kept from abandoning such characters in hopeless despair of their salvation. But let the servants of God be strong in his might, for as long as life lasts, even those who seem to be left of God are still to be followed, and the utmost effort made to pluck them as brands from the everlasting burning. The patience and perseverance, accompanied by fervent prayer, which have occasionally been manifested by ministers in these circumstances, have, through the Divine blessing, triumphed, and brought the hardened sinner to the feet of Jesus, weeping and "in his right mind."

NUMBERS.

Sin brought to Remembrance.

66 Behold, ye have sinned against the Lord: and be sure your sin will find you out."-NUM. xxxii. 23.

INS committed secretly, to escape the notice of man,

SINS

and thought but slightly of on that account, are such a practical denial of the Divine Omniscience as to provoke the Almighty to vindicate that attribute by the employment of unusual means for bringing them to light and making them manifest.

Sometimes it is by a direct excitement of the conscience, when it brings sins to remembrance that had scarcely been thought to be such at the time of their commission, or had hardly ever since recurred to the thoughts in that light. But now they are seen by the mind's eye under that aspect, in all their turpitude and folly, and with all the aggravations of the preceding, attending, and subsequent circumstances, as vividly as though they had been a transaction of yesterday. Nor can the mind get rid of their presence, or of the self-reproach and pain inflicted by it. Though there should be no outward observers or accusers, yet, from the intensity of the recollection, they are ready to suppose there may be in some they meet with, a kindred consciousness of the transaction. Hence a pointed remark in a discourse, or sentence in a book, or the discovery of the same sin in others, will have the effect of exciting the remembrance anew, and of inflicting a fresh sting of remorse.