OCCASIONAL MEDITATIONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. UPON THE SIGHT OF A LOADED CART."

Ir is a very strong expression, wherein God bemoans himself of the sins of Israel, "I am pressed under you as a cart is pressed that is full of sheaves." An empty cart runs lightly away, but if it be soundly laden, it goes sadly, sets hard, groans under the weight, and makes deep impressions; the wheels creak, and the axletree bends, and all the frame of it is put unto the utmost stress. He that is omnipotent can bear anything but too much sin; his justice will not let hismercy be overstrained. No marvel if a guilty soul say, "Mine iniquity is greater than I can bear," when the infinite God complains of the weight of men's sins. But, let not vain men think that God complains out of the want of power, but out of the abundance of mercy. He cannot be the worse for our sins; we are. It grieves him to be over provoked to our punishment. Then doth He account the' cart to crack, yea to break, when he is urged to break forth into just vengeance. O Saviour! the sins of the whole world lay upon thee; thou sweatest blood under the load; what would become of me, if I should bear but one sheaf of that load? every ear, yea every grain of that ear were enough to press down my soul to the nethermost hell.

I Do not more wonder at any man's art, than at his who TRACT MAG., THIRD SERIES, NO. 92, AUG., 1841. I

professes to think of nothing, to do nothing; and I do not a little marvel at that man who says he can sleep without a dream; for the mind of man is a restless thing, and though it give the body leave to repose itself, as knowing it is a mortal and earthly piece, yet itself being a spirit, and therefore active and indefatigable, is ever in motion. Give me a sea that moves not, a sun that shines not, an open eye that sees not, and I shall yield there may be a reasonable soul that works not. It is possible that through a natural or accidental stupidity, a man may not perceive his own thoughts, (as sometimes the eye or ear may be distracted, not to discern his own objects) but in the meantime he thinks that whereof he cannot give an account; like as we many times dream when we cannot report our fancy. I should more easily put myself to school unto that man who undertakes the profession of thinking many things at once. Instantaneous motions are more proper for a spirit than a dull rest. Since my mind will needs be ever working, it shall be my care that it may always be well employed.

UPON THE SIGHT OF A DRUNKEN MAN.

REASON is an excellent faculty, and, indeed, that which alone differenceth us from brute creatures; without which what is man but a two-legged beast? And, as all precious things are tender, and subject to miscarriage, so is this above others: the want of some little sleep, the violence of a fever, or one cup too much puts it into utter distemper. What can we make of this thing? mau I cannot call him. He hath shape; so hath a dead corpse as well as he. He hath life; so hath a beast as well as he. Reason either for the time he hath not, or, if he have it, he hath it so depraved and marred for the exercise of it, that brutishness is much less illbeseeming. Surely, the natural beastiality is so much. less odious than the moral, as there is difference in the causes of both: that is of God's making, this of our own. It is no shame to the beast that God hath made him so; it is a just shame to a man that he hath made himself a beast. From Bishop Hall.

THE APOSTATE.

AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE.

THE writer was well acquainted with R— A-, late of

Maryland, whose brief history is here given. At the age of about twenty he became anxious for his soul, and convinced that the course he had hitherto pursued, if persisted in, would lead to endless misery. With this conviction he resolved to seek the Lord, and made a profession of religion. For some time his conduct was apparently consistent. At length, he formed an acquaintance with a gay young lady, of great personal attractions, but an entire stranger to religion. Although she was not pleased with his religious profession, yet his family and personal appearance were such, that she consented to marriage; thinking that, in due time, she should cure him of his religious frenzy.

She soon commenced the attempt. At first she urged that, if they wished to be thought well of by their friends, they ought not to refuse to join them at places of diversion and amusement; that he must know how persons of his inclination were despised by people of respectability; and that he had so much reading and praying in his house, the neighbours laughed at him. In fine, said she, "I married you to be happy; but I utterly despair of happiness, unless you give up your religion, and be like other people."

He told her that happiness was what he wanted, but he had never found it in the way she proposed; that the happiness which sprung from the customs and pleasures of this world was not substantial: though for the present it might be sweet, in the end it would be bitter as death.

Having found these efforts unavailing to obtain her purpose, she refused to attend family devotion. He wept, grieved, and in secret often prayed for her. She continued to employ every stratagem which her wicked imagination could invent. At length, wearied by her constant opposition and persecution, he determined to attend only to his private devotions, and to omit those of the family. His wife, however, pursued him to his closet; and succeeded in driving him to the relinquishment of every religious duty. And now that he forsook God, the native corruptions of a wicked heart began to stir within him, and raged, till they broke out in greater excesses than he had ever been guilty of before.

Some time after this he heard a sermon, in which his sins were brought fully to his remembrance. He then renewedly promised to serve the Lord, let him meet with ever

so much opposition. But the obstacles were greater than he supposed. He found himself in the hands of the enemy, with less ability to resist temptation than he had before. He was like a man who, bound while asleep, struggles, but cannot free himself; groans under his bondage, and strives for liberty, but in vain. At this juncture his wife redoubled her efforts, and gained her point a second time. He continued sinning with little remorse, till, having lost all desire for the means of grace, and entirely forsaking the company of the people of God, he gave himself up to the customs and maxims of the world, even not having the least regard to external morality.

At length, he was laid on a bed of affliction, and his life was despaired of. Now his fears were alarmed; his sins appeared in dreadful colours before him; and such was the sense of his guilt, that he dared not look to God for mercy. "How can I," said he, "expect that God will pardon me, when I have run contrary to his will, grieved his Spirit, sinned away all the peace I once enjoyed, and have gone further since my apostasy, than I ever did before I named his name! Oh that I had my time to live over again! Oh that I had never been born!" His disorder increased, and his fears were wrought up to terror. "If," said he, "God would give me another trial, I would amend my ways. If God will not hear me, perhaps He will hear the prayers of his people on my behalf. Oh! send for them, that they may pray for me; for how can I stand before the Avenger of sin in this my lamentable condition!"

His Christian friends visited him; and, contrary to expectation, he recovered. But as his bodily strength increased, his convictions subsided; and by the time he was fully restored to health, he forgot his danger, and actually returned to all his former vices.

Some years after his recovery I fell into company with him, and we entered into close conversation on the state of his soul. I asked him what he thought would be his destiny, if he died in his present state.

Why," said he, as sure as God is in heaven, I should be damned."

"Well," said I, " do you mean to die in this state? do you never think of changing your course of life?"

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My friend," " said he, "I have no desire to serve God;

I have no desire for anything that is good to tell you the truth, I as much believe that my damnation is sealed, as that I am now conversing with you. I remember the very time when the Spirit of God departed from me; and what may surprise you more than all, I am no more troubled about it than if there was no God to punish sin, and no hell to punish sinners in.”

I was struck speechless at his narration: it is not in my power to describe my feelings. The bold indifference which marked his features, and the hardness of heart displayed by him, were truly shocking. After I parted with him my meditations were engaged upon the awful subject. "Lord," thought I, "with whom have I been conversing? An immortal spirit clothed with flesh and blood, who appears to be sealed over to eternal damnation! A man who once had a day of grace and the offer of mercy, but now appears to be lost, for ever lost! He is neither moved by mercy, nor terrified by judgment."

About two years after this he was laid upon the bed of death. His conscience was like thunder against him, and his every sense appeared to be awake to torment him. His sickness was short, and his end was awful. His Christian friends visited him, and desired to administer comfort, but he was comfortless.

<< 'Ah," said he, would it be for me.

would to God I was mistaken! happy But can I be mistaken about my sickness? Is it imagination which confines me here? Are my pains imaginary? No, no, they are a reality; and I am as certain of my damnation as of my pains." Some persons offered to pray with him. But he forbade it, and charged them not to attempt it. For," said he, "that moment that you attempt to lift up your hearts to God on my behalf, I feel the flames of hell kindle in my soul: you might as well pray for Satan as for me; you would have as much success. Do you think to force God? Do you think to force the gates of heaven, which are barred by justice against me? Never! Your prayers shall return upon your own head; I want none of them."

The distress of his mind seemed to make him forget the pains of his body, and he continued in nearly the same situation till the day of his death. All that Christians or