of Christianity is the love of Christ himself, which will always necessarily and naturally expand in love for the brethren: whence it is, that the two qualities of faith in Christ and love to the saints are frequently joined to gether in the apostolical epistles; as where Saint Paul says to the Thessalonians, "Your faith groweth exceedingly, and the charity of every one of you toward each other aboundeth;" and to the Ephesians, "I heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus, and love unto all the saints."

But, further; if we desire this mutual regard for all the brethren to continue among us, and to grow, we must attend to two things: we must do those acts which have a tendency to promote it; and we must remove those impediments which would obstruct and impair it.

First, we must be on the watch to do those actions which have a tendency to promote and to strengthen brotherly love. We must inquire into each other's wants, with a view to relieve them, and thus exercise the affections which we wish to cultivate. Affections, like other things, are kept bright by use, and gather rust by neglect. We should be careful to promote brotherly intercourse among Christians, and that not merely for the sake of the benefit which one may derive from another, but to cherish and indulge mutual affection. It is the character of those that fear the Lord, as delineated by the prophet Malachi, that they speak often one to another. Hence result those rules of the apostle, "We that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please our selves. Let every one of us please his neighbour for his good to edification." han seek his own, but every man another's wealth." For it is by this interchange of mutual attentions that brotherly love is fed and grows; and in this, as in all other feelings, it is seen that acts of kindness improve the habit.

"Let no

But, secondly, we should not only do such acts as are favourable to the cultivation of brotherly love, we should also be careful to remove those impediments which thwart and retard its growth.

Now, there are a number of little causes, trifling in themselves, as we are too apt to judge them, but which, by being suffered to grow up in the bosoms of Christians, tend to narrow their affections, and restrain that brotherly love which ought to be their delight and joy. Differences of taste will sometimes, if not controlled, engender personal dislikes, and occasion little jealousies, against which a wise man can never be too much on his guard. It is surprising how often some slight, but frequently recurring, peculiarities of manner

will produce a distaste for the society of a person who is yet a Christian indeed, and recognised as a son of God in heaven. Now, he who would maintain brotherly love in his heart, will scrupulously resist the intrusion of any such unworthy grounds of disunion, and endeavour to overlook and forget every thing which would draw off his attention from the broad distinctions of godliness.

Again; every man has his infirmities, his failings, his besetting sins. We see them in our neighbour; we overlook them in ourselves: and, unhappily, the proneness of men to observe unkindly the faults of others, often serves to divert them still more from the more wholesome task of scrutinising their own. But there is no disposition of mind which brotherly love will more immediately suppress, than the disposition to call into notice the vices of others, except it be for the purpose of aiding them in the correction of them: and so, on the other hand, there is no habit more injurious to the exercise of brotherly love, than that of dwelling unnecessarily on the defects of those whom we are bound to love as brethren. We ought rather to turn away our eyes and go backward, that we may not look, without some needful occasion, upon the errors of our neighbour; and particularly when we are tempted to dwell upon them, when we hear them censured, or feel some inconvenience resulting from them to ourselves, we should bring forward those redeeming qualities which belong to him as a Christian, and try to forget those errors which belong to him as a man. Whatever be your neighbour's faults, he is still your brother, for whom Christ died.

I have not now spoken of the duty of forgiveness, because among those who are Christians indeed, the occasions for the exercise of this virtue ought to be rare. But yet a forgiving disposition is so essential an attribute of Christianity, that brotherly love cannot be cultivated without it: and on this head it seems impossible to forget the example of Archbishop Cranmer, who, whenever any one did him a wrong, was careful to requite it with a kindness; that so his neighbour's injustice might not be suffered. to diminish, but rather give him a fresh occasion for the exercise of brotherly love. It is thus that we may hope, through the divine blessing, to overcome evil with good, and to banish all the impediments which would impair the brotherly kindness which ought ever to subsist among Christians.

But the grand instrument for the removal of all impediments to our charity, from within. or from without, is intercessory prayer. If you feel a dislike to any neighbour, pray for him. If you think he has injured you, pray for

him. If there be any thing in his manner, habits, or actions, which is unpleasant to you, pray for him. In this way you will at once remove the impediment from within to your brotherly affection for him, and may also bring down Divine grace into his heart to cure those defects in himself which may have hindered you from regarding him with complacency. In both ways you will have diminished the obstacles to brotherly love, and may be instrumental in establishing both your neighbour and yourself in grace.

It is thus, my brethren, that we should endeavour to live together as brethren, exercising forbearance towards each other's faults, and attempting to supply each other's deficiencies; and thus, remembering the high and holy society into which we are all admitted, we shall seek to hold each other by the hand, that we may none of us fall back, but may all advance together, with one mind striving together for the faith of the Gospel, till doubt, and weakness, and sin, shall all terminate in the kingdom of God.

RECOLLECTIONS OF A COUNTRY PASTOR. No I.-The Old Soldier.

THE curacy on which I was ordained was that of a delightful village in a midland county, the incumbent of which was necessarily absent on account of the illness of an only daughter, the stay of his declining years, and with whom he had removed to the coast of Devon, in the hope that change of air might be instrumental to her recovery. This hope, however, was never realised. She died after a residence of eighteen months, and her mortal remains were consigned to the grave, in the churchyard of, where hundreds lie far from their native homes; and the aged rector who was a widower, returned to his duty, beloved by his flock, but without any of those earthly solaces which add so much to the comfort of the hoary head. He had in one sense been unfortunate, for he had survived his wife and his children-four of whom he

had followed to the grave: one had died of malignant fever in a foreign land, and one had been lost at sea. I never heard him repine, however, at the dispensations of Providence. He had been taught, by the loss of his creature-comforts, that there is only one solid foundation on which man may safely build his happiness, namely, the Rock of Ages; and each earthly bereavement seemed only to have the effect of riveting his heart and affections more closely on that better country, where death-divided friends shall meet, to part no more. On one occasion only did the poignancy of his feelings overcome him. He was called to marry a parishioner, a young lady who had been the friend, and was of the same age as his last surviving daughter. The interruption in the service, however, was but momentary. His countenance regained its usual composure; nay, it seemed to become animated and cheerful. He was doubtless thinking of his lost one; the thought, however, broke in upon his mind that she was not lost, but gone to that land where there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage, but where the redeemed are as the angels of God.

A joyous marriage has always, I cannot tell why, made me melancholy; perhaps it is, that I have witnessed the speedy transition of the house of feasting

into the house of mourning-the white robe of the bride exchanged for the weeds of the widow, and heard the merry peal too soon succeeded by the funeral knell. The most joyous ceremony that I ever performed, as far as my own feelings were concerned, was reading the burial-service over the body of an aged inmate of a workhouse, the last years of whose life had been years of incessant suffering. Poor in worldly circumstances, she had been rich in faith. Under the rackings of bodily torture, her soul was at peace with God through the Lord Jesus Christ. It was her privilege to find the statutes of the Lord her songs in the house of her weary pilgrimage; and while I consigned the earthly house of her tabernacle to the dust, I felt assured, that for her a building of God had been prepared, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

About three months after my ordination, which had taken place at the ember-week in September, the person in whose house I lodged (for the rectory was under repair), came to inform me that Mrs. Smith, the hostess of the White Lion, was very anxious to see me. Mrs. Smith was a tidy, respectable, and, as far as I could ascertain, a well-disposed woman. Her house was, as such places should be, clean and comfortable, although homely. She never allowed tippling, under any circumstances. To her credit be it spoken, she never encouraged the parishioners to sit on her premises; and many a poor family, the father of which might have been inclined to spend a portion of his weekly earnings in drink, had reason to thank Mrs. Smith for her kind firmness in refusing to sell to persons who would only, by indulging their selfishness, deprive those who should be most dear, of many necessaries. The curse of beer-shops was then unknown.

On entering the White Lion, Mrs. Smith informed me that the constable had just brought into the house a poor wretched creature, an oldish man, almost dead with cold; and that she was anxious for my advice to herself, as to what was to be done, and also that I should see the poor man. The village-surgeon was from home, and not likely to return until the morning. She immediately conducted me to a small bed-room, where there lay stretched out upon the floor as miserable an object as could present itself to the eye. He had refused to go to bed, but on this I insisted. He declared he would rather sleep in the stable, but this could not be allowed; he was obviously very ill; and a dark cold night in December was not a season to allow him, squalid and filthy as he was, to lie upon straw. At my desire, however, he no longer hesitated. He was put to bed; and after ordering him some cordial, which my little acquaintance with medicine enabled me to administer with safety, and by which he was evidently much revived, I began to question him as to his occupation, and the circumstances which had brought him to the neighbourhood. His accent was broad Scotch; so much so, that it was at times very difficult to comprehend his meaning.

The name by which I am known," said he, in reply to my questions, "is James Robb; but that is not my real name. My parents were respectable farmers in the part of Ayrshire close upon Galloway, and they gave me a good education at the parish school, and brought me up in the straitest tenets of their persuasion. They were M'Millanites or Hill Folk-Cameronians some people call them. My grandfather, when a boy, had been at the battle of Bothwell. I was the younger of two sons; and when I left my father's roof to go to Glasgow to learn weaving, it was not without many prayers, from my parents, that the God of Israel would be my God, and lead me night and day through the wilderness. But bad company and the love of drink, though I was but a lad, soon brought me to ruin; and I can never forget my shame and confusion when, on returning one Sabbath morning to my lodgings, after having been drinking all

night, I heard my father's voice as I ascended the stair. He was obviously praying most earnestly: I could catch the words-lost sheep,' 'brought home,' dead and alive again-lost and found.' I entered

the room when I thought the prayer was ended, and found my father and mother weeping very much. The meeting was a miserable one; but my father was a good-natured easy man: he soon forgot all that was past. My mother was not so speedily pacified. She spoke much of the Divine displeasure against Eli-of the fearful end of Absalom; but she also relented: and they both returned home, trusting that their visit would be effectual in reclaiming me; and so it was for a season. I began once more to read the Bible: I was earnest in private prayer; I attended regularly the means of grace; and when I knew that any of our own folk were going to have a preaching among the hills, I never missed, if the distance was within a Sabbath's reach. Many a weary mile have I walked along the banks of the Clyde beyond Tinto, far to the Upper Ward of the county of Lanark, and lost the work of Saturday and Monday, to be present at a meeting of our friends. But idle company and habits, and whisky-drinking, prevailed; and at length 1 betame tenfold more abandoned than before."

While the wretched object spoke thus, there was a simplicity about him, and a strength of mind, which much interested me. He was obviously a man of no ordinary powers; and I could not but contrast his remarks on religious subjects, even although a poor outcast, with the ignorance which prevailed in the neighbourhood. "From bad," he continued, "I went on to worse. I was, one evening, engaged in a broil in the street, and robbed a gentleman of his watch; and fearing the consequence, I immediately went to Edinburgh, enlisted in a regiment about to sail from Leith, and from that day have never trod the land of my fathers. I served in the army twenty-two years, and gained the rank of corporal. I was present at an engagement, in which I lost my limb, as you will perceive, and was severely wounded in my left shoulder; and since that time I have lived on the precarious subsistence I could pick up.”

"But was there no pension awarded you?" replied.

I

way I have lived for more than twenty years, and a sad life I have led. O sir, if you knew the wickedness

that

goes on at such places, you would shudder at the very thought. I often think, if our grand folks, that I see supporting them, were only to know a hundredth part of the evils to which they lead, they would do all they can to put them down."

And what was your occupation at such places?" "Hawking ballads, singing improper songs, and carrying dice-boxes and other means of gambling. Bat, O sir, what a life I have led, what scenes of wickedness I have witnessed! I could tell you many a tale of wretchedness, consequent upon attendance at such places, that would make your blood run cold. I have known-God forgive me! I have had a hand in the matter-I have known sober young men led to drunkenness and dishonesty, young women ruined, robberies, ay, murders plotted, on the evening of a fair, or race, or wake. My heart has often failed; but strong drink and loose company soon removed all my qualms."

"Were you never married?" I asked.

robbed of a few shillings which I had, and nearly perished with cold, for the water was above my knees. Two gentlemen riding by heard my groans; they took me out of the water, and sent some one to bring me here. O sir, what a life I have led! O my poor mother! I heard she had died broken-hearted. There is no love, sir, like a mother's love. Do you recollect, sir, that verse in the Bible, Can the mother'-I forget, sir, for my mind is wandering; something about 'she may forget?' My mother never forgot: she died with grief on account of me, her poor Sandy-no, James Robb-no, Sandy. You have heard, sir, of the battle of Bothwell and Mr. Peden-but where am I, sir? My head-my poor, poor head--covenant-two to three-"

It was quite obvious that he was becoming delirious. I tried to soothe him; and at that moment the medical man entered. He pronounced the poor creature to be in a violent fever, from which he never recovered. In two days he was a corpse. His language, extremely incoherent, was about hill-folk- -races-covenant: sometimes a verse of a song was succeeded by one of the old plaintive melodies of the sacred music of his native land. I visited him constantly; but it was in vain to attempt to impart religious instruction. He died, while the medical attendant, the hostess, and myself, stood by his bed-side, and was decently buried in the village-churchyard. In his pockets were found only a few halfpence; and it was probably the feeling that he could not pay for his bed which caused him to refuse retiring to rest. Three papers were also found: one the duplicate of a pawnbroker for some silver spoons-perhaps they had been stolen; a second the tattered fragments of a ballad he had probably been singing; the third was an envelope, in which was carefully wrapped up a copy of "The Solemn League and Covenant." To this his real name was attached, and by that name his burial was entered in the register of in the county of D-, as Alex.

Many a year has passed since this event took place, but its various circumstances are present to my mind as if they had happened yesterday. It is not for man to sit in judgment on his fellow-sinner, or to pass an opinion as to the eternal destiny of this poor creature. One thing is certain--I learned from the circumstance a useful lesson. I was by no means at that period a person of fixed principles. I had been appointed to the curacy without due reflection on the part of the rector. I think I was anxious that the duty in the church and parish should be respectfully performed; but I confess I did not see, not merely the folly, but the iniquity of many of those sports and pursuits which are deemed innocent by the world. I had derided the notion of there being any thing sinful in a wake. My argument was, the poor must have their relaxation as well as the rich. I had laughed heartily at the curate of a neighbouring parish, who had exhorted his people to abstain from them; and it was one part of a little plan which I had formed, to be present at certain races in the early spring, while I had promised the children in the parish that they should go to the next fair at. But I could not forget the dying testimony of the old soldier. His words, under the Divine blessing, made a powerful impression upon my heart. I had argued as to the innocency of such amusements, and the absurd notions which were entertained by some respecting worldly conformity, with a man of profound reasoning and deep Christian experience, and came off, as I thought, victorious. But now I perceived the fallacy of my arguments, and the untenable positions which I had laid down, which were

"And how came you here?" "I had been at revel on Christmas eve, and had drunk till I was quite insensible. I found myself this morning in a ditch, my basket taken from me,

minister. So frequently is the Almighty pleased to employ the humblest instruments for the promotion of his own glory, and to choose the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, that no flesh should glory in his presence.