dence in the capital, and yet have left my future destination still a matter of consideration and prayer. The letter I received from the Secretary of the Hoxton Committee, in answer to my application, satisfies me as to the duty of remaining another year in Scotland. Had I not made this application, I might have looked back with regret on the opportunities I had neglected; but as it is, my conscience is satisfied in having done, what I thought, my duty; and those feelings are also gratified, which I had to struggle with, in the performance of that duty. Excuse me, my dear friend, for having dwelt so long on this subject. I am sorry that I have spent so much time, that I have little remaining to answer your very interesting and affecting letter.

My dear Friend;

Perth, September, 1825.

I do not know whether debts of kindness, like other debts, admit of being regularly summed up in a debtor and creditor column, and balanced against each other. If so, though you confessed the balance due to me in your last, I fear your punctuality and my negligence have more than reversed the matter, and I am now much deeper in your debt than ever you have been in mine. I will not attempt to offer apologies. I might, I believe, conscientiously spin out some that would appear feasible, but I am always suspicious of the sincerity of a man's sorrow who expresses great contrition for a fault he has committed, which, at the same time, he labors with all his might to extenuate by every trifling excuse that can, or scarcely can be alleged for it.--I have been negligent; you will forgive me;-and there the matter

must rest. I was much struck with the spirit of earnest affection and fervent piety that pervaded your last; and the accounts you give of the employment of your leisure hours sufficiently explains the greater vividness of your spiritual affections. There is a beautiful action and reaction of our religious feelings and actions upon each other;grace, shown to us by God, prompts us to deeds of charity to our fellow men; and these deeds, all-imperfect and even displeasing to God, as they must be in themselves from the sin that mingles with the purest of them, are again rewarded by a fresh supply of the favor of our God, which must again lead to deeds of yet more extended benevolence, which are again to meet with a richer reward from the inexhaustible resources of Almighty Goodness. It is thus, that he who waters others is watered himself; and of such an individual John Bunyan's paradoxical lines are strikingly true:

"A man there was, though some did count him mad, The more he cast away, the more he had." I say not these things to flatter you. Even where the richest rewards are given for the most indefatigable labors of love, we must ever remember that no reward is deserved, and the individual should be ready to exclaim, with him who was instant in season and out of season in the duties of his office, and who was conscious that his labors were more abundant than those of any of his brethren,-"Yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me. I thank you for your very kind admonitions on my weakness of faith.

It has much to struggle with in a heart that is but very partially renewed; I fear very much that unsanctified confidence which is the most fearful temptation

with which the adversary can assail us;-a confidence that sin cannot damp;-a confidence that, in some cases, the approach of death itself will not destroy, but which will lead its possessor to the very gate of heaven, and will only be dispelled when the fearful response is given,-"I never knew you, depart from me ye workers of iniquity." Then he who has been deceived by its delusive whispers of "peace, peace, when there was no peace, "shall exclaim in the very paroxysm of astonishment and despair, "The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved!" The consideration of such a case as this, should make us "examine ourselves, whether we be in the faith." It is true, that, if we look to ourselves for comfort, we shall never obtain it; but, it is equally true, that, if the gospel is not to us the spring of holiness as well as the source of our comfort,-"we are deceiving ourselves, and the truth is not in us.' "" We must not dread the discovery that we have been making little progress, or even that we have been pursuing a retrogade motion in the christian course; nor must we smother every emotion of insecurity and danger that may rise on such a review. True, we must not cherish such emotions, and rest in them till they lead us to despair. They must lead us anew to the blood of sprinkling. That which gave consolation when all we could look back upon was an unbroken course of rebellion, will give consolation still; and it is only by such a process, I conceive, that true comfort can be obtained.

During the summer months, besides teaching a sabbath school in the neighborhood of Perth, and keeping his meeting with the young men

course

once a week for conversation on the Scriptures, he diligently pursued his studies and a of reading. From some memoranda among his papers, I find that he kept a regular account of every day's employment. It commences on the twelfth of May, on which day he arrived at his father's. It then lays down the following plan of study and occupation for the future:-"To rise at seven o'clock; Greek Testament till eight; walk till nine; Breakfast between nine and ten; Hebrew Psalms till eleven; Mathematics till twelve; French till one; Greek till two; English reading till three; dinner, three to four; Latin, four to six; tea, six to seven. Walk, &c.

At the end of September is the following summary of his occupations for the preceding months: -"Greek Testament, Matthew to the Epistle to the Romans. Revised 184 pages of Hebrew Grammar. Read 40 verses of Hebrew Psalms. Revised six books of Euclid's Elements; 120 pages of Bridge's Algebra; wrote one essay and fifteen letters. Read 72 Lectures of Brown's Philosophy; Baxter's Saints' Rest; Gilbert's Life of Williams; Edwards on Religious Affections; Narrative of a Tour to the Grande Chartreuse; Horne's Letters on Missions; Orme's Letter to Irving; fourteen Miscellaneous Discourses."

It is evident, from this statement, that he did not pass his time idly or unprofitably. It does not however contain the whole of his employments. Besides what is mentioned above, it appears from the daily entries, that he read several of the Orations of Cicero; considerable portions of Homer, Thucydides, &c. He besides met with several interruptions, which repeatedly engrossed most of his time for a number of days together.

The following excellent letter he wrote to his friend Craik, shortly before he went to London:

My very dear Friend;

I am astonished to find, on looking to the date of your last, that it is so long since I received it: and, probably, if you have been expecting a letter, the time, that has seemed to me like a few hours, may have been felt by you as if longer than it actually is. At least, so I feel. I always think my friends are very long in answering my letters, and yet I find, that, even when I conceive myself most punctual, I am more dilatory than any of my correspondents. That is an apt personification of Time, which represents him as a decrepid old man with wings, that are visible only from behind. While we watch his approach he seems to creep tardidly along: it is not till he has passed us that we perceive he has been flying. I cannot tell you how much I felt on the receipt of your very splendid and very affectionate present. It has turned so common, from the higher refinement of our day, in the acknowledgment of the most common-place favor, for an individual to allege that he cannot express his gratitude, that I am almost ashamed to use the much-hackneyed phrase. But, in my case, it is used in simple honesty; and I know you will believe me when I say so. The word "memorial," in the inscription, which of course struck my eye before reading your letter, affected me a good deal. I feared it was prophetic of separation, and looked anxiously over your letter for the passage which should tell me that you had got an appointment to some situation which would prevent our meeting in St. Andrew's next winter. I was