disease already named. They submitted to his judgment, and appointed him to Dublin. There he had but one pulpit to supply, and his residence adjoined the Chapel. This appointment was deemed advisable, not only as it relieved him from walking, but especially so as it placed him within reach of the best medical aid which the kingdom could afford. With this arrangement he was well pleased, and when the third reading of the Stations confirmed the appointment, he said to Mr. Sorsby, "I think Dublin will suit me." His confidential friend, Mr Barker, who is now supplying his place in Dublin, says: "At the Conference his health was indifferent, but he fondly hoped that a removal to this place, would help to recruit his wasted energies, and that he would yet be able to serve the Church for many years. In this, however, he was disappointed. Dublin did not agree with him. Perhaps, indeed, he was brought to that state that no place would have agreed with him long, for his end was fast approaching. This impression was general amongst the friends here. They all regarded him as a dying man, and they soon perceived that he was fast wasting away. Before he had been here three months, he began to sink rapidly. He thought the house in which he lived was unwholesome, and therefore went to another in the suburbs of the city, where he could have better air. For the first two or three weeks his strength rallied a little, and his hopes revived, but they were soon cut off. He sunk lower than before, and was scarcely able to come to the Tabernacle. When he did get there, it was with great difficulty that he spoke to the people. But oh! how unwilling he was to relinquish his beloved employment. He held on, and continued in the harness as long as he was able, and thought of nothing but to spend and be spent in his Master's service." In the opinion of medical men his case was next to hopeless, and the only chance which remained was, in resorting to his native air. that purpose he repaired to the North of Ireland, calling at Lurgan and Belfast on his way to Carrickfergus. Here the air was too strong for him, and he returned to Belfast. In a few days afterwards he took to his bed, and was never able to rise again.

For

For a time, his mind appeared a good deal exercised about his family, but by committing them to Jehovah's care he found relief. "A father of the fartherless, and a judge of the widow, is God in his holy habitation." I had frequent opportunities of seeing him during his last illness, and always found him resting on the atonement, and looking for eternal life through the blood of the Lamb. The mercy of God in the face of Jesus Christ was a favourite doctrine with him. He often dwelt upon it in the pulpit, and on a dying bed it was his comfort and support. A short time before his death Mrs. B. called upon him, and in course of conversation reference was made to Mr. who, it is

said, has become a Unitarian. He was amazed, not having heard of it before. When recovered from the surprise which such information had occasioned, tears gushed from his eyes, and in a very feeling tone, he said, "Well, I would rather be here, than in his situation." A few weeks produced a considerable change. failed, and in absolute feebleness he awaited the Through mercy his mind was kept in perfect peace. Saviour appeared, and on the 11th of November, he less rest, in the 30th year of his age.

His strength entirely coming of his Lord.

In due time the entered into end

"Thus star by star declines,

Till all are passed away;

As morning high and higher shines
To pure and perfect day;

Nor sink those stars in empty night,

But hide themselves in heaven's own light."

On the Friday following his remains were removed to Dromore, and committed to the grave, in sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection.

His death was improved at Belfast, on the 22nd of November, by the Superintendent of the Mission, from John ix. 4, and in places where he had travelled, by the respected brethren who now occupy those stations.

The following extracts will shew the estimation in which Mr M'Clune was held by his brethren and fellow-labourers in the Missionary field.

Mr. Sorsby, after referring to the commencement of their acquaintance, says: "From that time our intercourse was frequent, and to me it was very agreeable. He was a sincere man, but his warm temperament, and sanguine mind, sometimes betrayed him into rashness of judgment, and made him a little fretful. It is on this principle that I account for certain acts of his life, in perfect consistency with my views of his integrity and piety. He was a man of strong political bias, favouring the conservative side, and I believe, he regarded it as his duty, and his honour, practically to interfere with politics. But from the time he went to Downpatrick, there was an evident growth in grace, and spirituality of mind, and under its influence, he regarded personal piety as the great thing to be acquired by him as a man; and the salvation of souls as the great object to be accomplished by him as a minister. This made his zealous labours and incessant toils, of great use to the Church and the world."

Mr. Barker writes, "His career was short: but if life is to be measured by the amount of labour performed, and the good that is done, he lived long. He now rests from his labours and his works follow him. He will, I believe, in yonder world, have a brighter crown, and a more glorious reward than many who have been longer in the field, and stood higher in the Church below.

"His zeal was quenchless.' He was in labours more abundant. He spared not himself that he might please the flesh. It was, perhaps, his fault that he attempted too much. He sought to cover an extent of ground, which he had neither strength nor time, properly to cultivate; and from this cause, he failed to a great extent in reaping the fruits of his labours.

"In expressing his feelings and sentiments, with regard to any person, or subject, he was rather incautious; and observations thus hastily let slip, were something used by older heads,' and persons of longer experience in the world, to his disadvantage. He was thoroughly honest, and candid: he had no guile. He often wondered how it was, and at times, I wondered too, that some of his brethren did not understand him better, and give him more credit for his sincerity. There was no duplicity with Brother M'Clune. He spoke what he thought, but sometimes gave utterance to his thoughts before they were sufficiently matured in his own mind. When convinced that it was his

duty to take any particular course, he would hazard all consequences which might arise from it. He was a straight-forward man.

"As a preacher he was generally acceptable, and useful where he laboured. In many places the people were very fond of him. It was his great ambition to win souls to Christ. Often have I seen his eyes sparkle with delight whilst telling of blessed meetings in his Circuit; and this was specially the case whenever he had reason to believe that some sinner had been converted to God.

"He was gifted with a good mind, which, with proper training, would have raised him to considerable eminence. His address was popular, and engaging, though his style was rather rough, and unpolished. He was, in fact, indifferent to the niceties of language, nor could he be induced to devote attention to this branch of learning, so important to a minister, and to all public speakers."

The justness of these remarks, will, I believe, be fully appreciated by all who were intimately acquainted with the character of Mr. M'Clune. He was a good man, and his best energies were zealously devoted to his Master's service. Had he been spared, time, and a little more experience, might have corrected some of those defects, to which reference has been made; but he is gone. His race is run; and having accomplished, as a hireling, his day, his deathless spirit is now before the throne, where he will never cease to mingle with angels and glorified saints, in singing the song of Moses and the Lamb.

DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.'

ON THE LOVE OF GOD.

IF the concurring experience of all ages has established any fact respecting our common nature more certainly than another, perhaps it is this, that when we desire to induce men to make considerable efforts for the attainment of an object, it is wise to engage their feelings, as well as to convince their judgment. The principle is so familiar to us, that a writer would be thought to trifle with our understandings who should employ any elaborate reasoning to establish or to enforce it. Yet it is most certain that a truth, universally received and acted upon in all the common affairs of life, has been beheld with suspicion, and even absolutely rejected by many, when applied to our religious concerns; and the only object of pursuit which can worthily engross all the thoughts and desires and energies of an immortal being, it is imagined may be best secured by suspending the most active principle of his nature.

Indeed it is exceedingly remarkable how different is the wisdom of man and the wisdom of his Creator. God has told us that we are fallen, depraved, unworthy beings; and has made the knowledge and confession of this truth the very basis of true religion. But men say, To persuade people that they are wicked, is the sure way to make them become so teach them first to respect themselves, and they will soon feel a pride in being truly respectable. Christ has said, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and all thy soul, and all thy mind, and all thy strength; this is the first and great commandment." Men call the religious exercise of the affections enthusiasm and mysticism; and contend strenuously, that it becomes us to offer to our Maker a reasonable service.

Here, indeed, we are at last agreed. We, too, are desirous to offer to our Maker a reasonable service; a service such as His perfections call for, and the nature which He has given us may fitly render. Is it not, then, in the highest degree reasonable to admire and adore Him who is unspeakably excellent;-to overflow with gratitude to Him who has given us life and all its enjoyments; who has blessed us in prosperity, and comforts us in sorrow; who has abounded continually towards us in all long-suffering and goodness-to love Him with our whole heart, who loved us when we were enemies, and has redeemed us to Himself even by the blood of His dear Son? If it be reasonable to experience the most unmerited mercies without being affected by them; to receive blessings innumerable without a single emotion of thankfulness; and to contemplate perfect goodness with as much indifference as if it were an abstract theorem; then, indeed, the service of the affections is irrational. But if our very instincts tell us, that such a supposition is absurd and abominable; if the basest nature can scarcely endure, and the noblest abhors it; we have little reason to fear, that in yielding the whole heart to God we can be justly chargeable with weakness or folly for how can He attract towards himself any of our affections, without commanding them all; or with the least colour of equity possess the faintest influence upon our hearts, without reigning triumphant in them?

The love of God, whatever difficulties may sometimes have been raised respecting it, is surely to an honest heart exceedingly easy of comprehension. It is a natural affection in its highest exercise, and directed toward its noblest object. The human soul is capable indeed of entertaining many sacred feelings. We reverence the majesty of God; we admire His perfections; we are grateful for His mercies; we have confidence in His goodness. These are all doubtless excellent, and highly acceptable to our Maker. But love is yet more elevated and more perfect. Every other religious sentiment seems but to prepare and lead us up to this. Every other religious sentiment is comprehended in it. It is, therefore, with great justness that the Apostle pronounces love to be "the fulfilling of the law." In its exercise towards God, it embraces every devout affection; as, in exercise towards men, it fills the circle of the social duties.

Love is one of the simple affections of our nature, and, as such, necessarily incapable of definition. But God, who knows our blindness, and how ready we are to deceive ourselves, even where the deception leads directly to our ruin, has most wisely provided that the truth of those feelings, which we profess to cherish towards Him, shall be realized by the evidence of our actions. "He that hath my commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me." "If a man love me, he will keep my words." "He that loveth me not, keepeth not my sayings." These, and similar declarations, are nothing more than authoritative assertions of a fact in itself most incontestable, and constantly assumed in our intercourse with each other. Who does not smile at professions of friendship which evaporate in empty words? Who does not know instinctively that it is in the nature of a strong affection to take possession of the man, and be visible in the general tenor of his actions? Would any one think it necessary to believe the most solemn asseverations of attachment which should lead to no practical consequences? God has established exactly the same test of our devotion to Him, which we all habitually apply towards each other. And most wisely and graciously is it established; for if the love of Him be necessary to our happiness, have we not great reason to be thankful, that the criteria of its reality which He has chosen are such, that even the blindness and carelessnes of man can scarcely mistake them! But though the love of God, wherever it exists, will unquestionably be visible in the fruits of holiness, these fruits, it must be remembered, are only its attendants. Thoughts and actions are proofs of our existence, but they are not our existence. And this distinction, though it may seem abstract, is of great practical importance; for man is so little disposed to love a being of perfect purity, that there is a strong disposition in our nature to evade the first and great commandment, under the notion of complying with it by general obedience. It is not necessary to investigate this error. God has called upon us to love Him. He demands our hearts, without reserve, without equivocation. It is at our peril if we refuse. And, oh! what insanity is it to endeavour to escape, by the subtilities of a false casuistry, from that blessed precept which bears with it our highest glory and happiness! Yet there seems

The evidence of love is in all the fruits of holiness.

to be one quality or temper of mind, which is pointed out, both by the language of the Scriptures, and by the constitution of things, as more peculiarly and inseparably attached to it-spiritual-mindedness; a sister graee of the same blessed family, and hastening to her everlasting home. 66 Set your affections on things above ;"--"for where your treasure is,"