most encouraging, for they always said,
"Cheer up! cheer up! cheer up!" all
the day long, from early dawn to dark.
Whoever is, then, in sorrow, or diffi-
culty, or trial, let him "cheer up," and-

If he can mend it, mend it;
If he can't mend it, end it.

-Robert Baker.

THE PINT OF ALE.

The writer heard a story in Manchester of a calico-printer, who, on his wedding day, was persuaded by his wife to allow her two half pints of ale a-day as her share. He rather winced at the bargain, for though a drinker himself, he would have preferred a perfectly sober wife. They both worked hard, and he, poor man, was seldom out of the publichouse, as soon as the factory closed. The wife and husband seldom saw much of each other except at breakfast; but as she kept things tidy about her, and made her stinted and even selfish allowance for housekeeping meet the demands upon her, he never complained. She had her daily pint, and he, perhaps, had his two or three quarts, and neither interfered with the other, except that at odd times she succeeded, by dint of one little gentle artifice or another, to win him home an hour or two earlier at night, and, now and then, to spend an entire evening in his own house; but these were rare occasions. They had been married a year, and on the morning of their wedding anniversary, the husband looked askance at her neat and comely person with some shade of remorse, as he said, "Mary, we'n had no holiday since we were wed; and, only that I haven't a penny in the world, we'd take a jaunt down to the village to see thee mother."

"Wouldst like to go, John ?" said she, softly, between a smile and a tear, so glad to hear him speak so kindly-so like

old times.
I'll stand treat."
"If thee'd like to go, John,

a sneer, "hast got a fortun, wench?”
"Thou stand treat!" said he, with half
"Nay," said she; "but I'n gotten the
pint o' ale."

"Gotten what?" said he.

"The pint o' ale," said she.

John still didn't understand her, till the faithful creature reached down an old stocking from under a lose brick up the chimney, and counted out her daily pint i. e., £4, 11s. 3d., and put them into his of ale in the shape of 365 threepences,hand, exclaiming, "Thou shalt have thee holiday, John !"

science-smitten, charmed, wouldn't touch John was ashamed, astonished, conit. I'll ha' no more," he said. He kept his "Hasn't thee had thy share? Then word. They kept their wedding-day with mother-and the wife's little capital was the nucleus of a series of frugal investments that ultimately swelled out into a shop, a factory, warehouses, a country seat, carriage, and, for ought I know, a Liverpool mayor.-Rev. J. B. Owen, M.A.

A THOUGHT FOR EVERYDAY USE.

It is of great importance so to order our habits of life as to innure ourselves through all these influences, so disagreeto tediousness and monotony; for it is a capacity to endure, are found. able to nature, that strength of mind, and

great and inevitable exigencies; for the People can generally find patience for mind knowing, in such cases, that it has no choice, makes a virtue of necessity, and is quiet. But the difficult thing to bear, is sameness and dryness, and those sipid, only because we do not know how everyday similarities which we call inThought and Feeling. to use them aright. — Reminiscences of

Notices of Books.

On Miracles: By RALPH WARDLAW, D.D. Edinburgh: A. Fullarton & Co. We have bestowed on this volume that careful perusal which every production of Dr. Wardlaw's pen is sure to reward; and we are more than gratified in the evidences which it affords, that this octogenarian "hero of an hundred fights" is

still able to wield his controversial wea
of the days of his vigorous prime. It is
pons with all the ease, skill, and energy
an able, ingenious, and eloquent treatise
however, a few faults, on which we
on a most important subject. It has,
cannot help hazarding a few remarks.
As it was, in the first instance, delivered

While, on this point, our views do not coincide with those of the venerable Doctor, we cannot too emphatically express our high admiration of the volume taken as a whole. The fourth chapter, in which he concentrates his argument from mir

in a course of lectures addressed to a, tion strikes us as in several places more popular audience, for the purpose of ingenious than just. And it is not a little counteracting the infidelity of the times, remarkable that he takes no notice whatand has been recast into its present shape ever of the passage which has always with the same design, we must object to a struck ourselves as deciding the point. considerable portion of it, as better adapt- We mean that in which our Saviour ed to the auditors in an academical hall, replies to those who charged Him with than the great mass of non-professional casting out devils through the agency of readers. On this account we regret the Satan, the prince of devils. How does He disproportioned space which the Doctor repel this charge? Not by asserting, with has allotted to the now stale sophism of Dr. Wardlaw, that Satan has no such the infidel David Hume; as well as to his power as the charge implies; and that unminute strictures on Campbell, Chalmers, der no circumstances would evil spirits, Vaughan, and others who preceded him in under the government of a holy and rightthe discussion on this subject;-strictures eous God, be allowed, either directly or in the main, we admit, just in themselves, through the intervention of wicked men, and satisfactory to accurate thinkers and to work genuine miracles? He repels it precise writers, but not of great value by a reference to the obvious character either for the conviction of infidels, or the and tendency of His miracles, and the removal of the doubts of believers. On kind of teaching by which they were the same ground, we cannot help quarrel- accompanied. "Every kingdom," says He, ling with his laboured attempt to prove "divided against itself is brought to desolthat all real miracles are per se, and with- ation; and every city or house divided out reference to any further consideration, against itself shall not stand: and if Satan a sufficient attestation of a divine com- cast out Satan, he is divided against himmission. Whether the Doctor is right or self; how shall then his kingdom stand?” wrong in entertaining this opinion, we conceive, that in a popular work, its discussion is out of place, as it would have fully answered his purpose to have insisted on what all our best writers on the Christian evidences agree in, that a miracle, when genuine, affords the strongest possible pre-acles on the great miracle of Christ's sumption of the divine authority of the teaching in connexion with which it is wrought; and that unless something accompanies that teaching that palpably indicates imposture or falsehood, this presumption rises to positive proof. Dr. Wardlaw contends for his own view of the question with much ingenuity and eloquence. We are free to confess, however, that we cannot agree with him. Even his own favourite proof-text, the language of Nicodemus to the Saviour, does not appear to us to claim for miracles that direct and immediate evidential force which he would assign to them. For when Nicodemus says, "We know that thou art a teacher come from God," he does not offer as the grounded himself of his full mastery of the topics of his faith, the absolute statement, "No man can work miracles except God be with him;" but a much more qualified declaration, "No man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him;" -language which obviously implies, that other miracles, while admitted as real, might not be satisfactory credentials of a divine commission.

resurrection, is one of the most masterly discussions we ever read. Our favourite chapter, however, is the seventh, where, under the four sections of Rationalism, Mythism, Spiritualism, and Romanism, he glances at the more recent manifestations of the infidel spirit in our own country, in America, and, above all, among the socalled philosophers and divines of Germany. Our only fault with this chapter is its brevity. For it presents such a happy union of sound hermeneutical principles, clear argument, and caustic wit, and withal such a felicitous adaptation to the special exigencies of the times, that we cannot help wishing that he had avail

on which he has animadverted, by extending each of the four sections to a separate chapter. Even the sketch with which he has here favoured us, is so lucid, spirited, pregnant, and suggestive, that it cannot fail to be deeply appreciated by the religious public at large; and to be especially serviceable to the rising generation of ministers of the several evangelical denomThe Doctor gives an ingenious exposi-inations of the land, who are taught by tion on his own principles of the more remarkable scriptural passages, which are usually considered as militating against the opinion that miracles are per se proofs of a divine commission. But the exposi

this ripe veteran divine how to estimate the lofty pretensions of those who would erect their own shallow crudities on the ruins of "the faith once delivered to the saints."

Sermon.

By the Rev. J. AITKEN, High Church, Kilmarnock.

"The deceitfulness of sin."-HEв. iii, 13.

Nations

MANKIND, as a whole, are wonderfully man, by leading him to believe that his agreed as to the evil of sin. worldly-mindedness is only a prudent have made laws for its prevention, and husbanding of his goods, and not acting inflicted severe penalties on its perpe- the foolish part of the prodigal? Does trators; no two individuals can meet, not sin deceive the Sabbath-breaker, by except, perhaps, the guilty parties, who leading him to believe that his irreligion are not agreed on the reality of the is only Christian liberty, and a little evil. How is it, then, that mankind, healthful recreation? Sin confounds the universally agreed in disapproving of sin, whole system of duty; the exclusive purare universally agreed in practising it? suit of gain, it misnames diligence in The cause is to be found in the deceit- business; a life of dissipation, one of fulness of sin. The hook is concealed. fashion; excess in eating and drinking, Men snatch the bait, not thinking of the friendly feeling; desertion of the post of captivity, and the pain, and the destruc- duty, well-timed discretion; recklessness tion, which are to follow. Men indulge of danger, manly boldness; dogmatical their passions without considering what opinionativeness, firmness of mind; indifis to be the consequence. For if they ferency to any religion, liberality to all; saw sin in the same light in the day of a persecuting spirit, zeal for the cause temptation as in the day of retribution, of God and of truth! Oh! what crimes it would be morally impossible for a have been committed, what acts have reasonable person to choose it,—just as been justified, under the sacred name of impossible as for one to choose his own religion! When Saul, for instance, was misery. In vain is the net spread in the accused of sparing the spoils of the army sight of the bird. One method, therefore, of the Amalekites, contrary to the comof preventing us from sinning, is to ex- mand of God, his plea was, that the sheep hibit its deceitfulness; that while intent and the oxen were spared to be offered in on sin, one may know he is intent on sacrifice to the Lord; whereas we know self-misery, self-destruction. that this was mere pretence, to conceal his own covetousness.

In this discourse we shall present a few illustrations of the deceitfulness of sin, pointing out the manner in which this deceit is practised.

I. The deceitfulness of sin appears by falsely representing vice as virtue. There is something so mean, so selfish, so destructive in sin, that if seen in its native deformity, few would be captivated by it. It is therefore the policy of sin to varnish over its deformities, deck out itself with meretricious ornaments, sail under false colours, conceal itself under the guise of specious names and plausible pretences. By this means alarms are allayed, conscience lulled, and the victim betrayed to begin or persist in a criminal career. Does not sin deceive the covetous 2.-V.

II. The deceitfulness of sin appears by falsely promising pleasure or good. Sin promises a something as a spring of happiness, which has ever proved a source of misery. According to the constitution of things, no man ever has been, no man ever can be, truly happy in the indulgence of sin. Whenever a person knows that he is doing wrong, happiness leaves him. "Before I sinned," remarks one, "I was serene, contented, and happy; since I sinned, I am alarmed, gloomy, and miserable." This, we believe, is the experience of every sinner. No matter what may be his circumstances, no matter what may be the nature of the crime, no matter what may be the deceptive

B

appearances which sin may assume, the instant the person breaks over the fence of God's holy law, the serpent stings him, -conscience reproaches him. No burden is more intolerable than the burden of conscious guilt. No visible hand touched Cain, and yet hear him complaining, "My punishment is greater than I can bear." A person may live and be happy at variance with the whole world; but no person can be happy carrying with him an accusing conscience. Possessing sin, he possesses misery. Sin sometimes holds out the pleasing associate only in crime, candour requires that both sides be presented; for if there is the boon companion, there is also another companion-a guilty conscience. Satan may dress up sin, and make it look pleasant; but, stripped of its tinsel, what has the worker of iniquity got?

"Deceitful bliss in bitter shame it ends;

concealing at first the awful lengths to which it will lead its victim. The policy of sin is not to attempt too much at first. No one reaches the depths of wickedness at once. There is, however, a fatal progress in vice. At first, the person prompted to any open or daring violation of God's holy law may start back appalled; let him. however, have a little practice in any rticular department of crime, and the more fragrant offences will be committed without compunction; and the farther the departure from God and from righteousness, the harder the heart, the less tender the conscience, the more insensible to danger. Let the sinner once taste the forbidden fruit, and he will return again and again, and repeat the transgression. Let the servant once put out his hand, and dishonestly appropriate to himself the property of his master or fellowmen, and an eye not very prophetic in its vision, can foresee a train of consequences the most criminal in their character and ruinous in their results, all taking their origin and their impulse from this first act of peculation. Now, if the person about to sin perceived how one sin naturally leads to another, how one sin not only prepares the way for another, but, in one sense, renders it necessary; so that, having once sinned, he must sin again to hide or extenuate his former fault; did he perceive how the bad habit will grow upon him, how every repetition will rivet faster the chain forged by the great destroyer, there is some probability that he would resist beginnings, that he would restrain himself, and never enter on the way of evil. Behold the deceitfulness of sin! the future is studiously kept out of sight,-the policy is not to let the sinner see where he is going,-he is led astray by little and little, tempted to yield to some little impropriety, under the delusion that it is a small matter, that it shall not be repeated, that he will not go farther wrong. Sin is like the letting out of water,-a small break in the bank may open the way to a fearful inundation. How great a fire a little spark kindles! Aware of the hardening process of sinful indulgence,

His prop a cobweb, which an insect rends." We do not know that this phase of the deceitfulness of sin can be better illustrated and impressed, than by a reference to the' first sin committed in this world. It was by deceit that Satan succeeded in ruining the parents of mankind. The fruit of the forbidden tree seemed fair to the eye, and pleasant to the taste. To induce them to partake, the threatening of God is gainsayed. There was to be no death; their eyes were to be opened; and they were to be as gods. Well, what was the result of all these fair speeches,-all this promised good? Alas! you know the deceitfulness of the first sin,-its promised good was never realized. Instead of making man as God, it made him as the evil one; instead of not dying, no sooner had he tasted than dying he began to die. Like this first sin, equally deceitful are all its sinful progeny. As it was by deceit that Satan succeeded in seducing our first parents, so it is still by deceit that he continues to attempt the destruction of the sons of men; and by promising freedom from restraint; present pleasure; future exaltation. The roaring lion transforms himself into an angel of light, the more easily to secure his prey. III. The deceitfulness of sin appears ly beware of again indulging in another