vours to make their calling and election sure-how inconstant their efforts to grow in grace-how fitful and changing are they in following a settled order of means for laying hold of eternal life! Some are occasionally awakened to a sense of their danger. They commence in this frame the exercise of prayer, they search the scriptures for direction, they give up sinful practices which religion forbids, and it seems as if they were not far from the kingdom of heaven. But some new earthly attraction lays hold on the heart, their zeal for salvation is cooled, spiritual exercise becomes less frequent, and at last they go back to their former course. Others, as disciples of Christ, feel sometimes a revival from on high; they wonder, then, why this world should have exercised such power over them; they pray more for the sanctifying Spirit; they speak with fervour on divine things, and move with freedom and diligence in service for Christ. But in an unwatchful hour they again lose those things which are wrought in them, and give up that ardent following after God, which brought such strength and joy to their heart. Yea, with all here, what want of perseverance in prosecuting systematically a well-ordered plan of religious exercises for advancing in holiness, and daily serving Christ. How often are the circumstances of earth allowed to give law to the exercises of heaven! How frequently are times for prayer, or seasons for bible reading, or occasions for well-doing, changed, or shortened, or neglected, according to the convenience of worldly occupation! Let not thus our spiritual pursuits be feeble, and fitful, and momentary, but energetic, steady, and persevering. "Know ye not, that they who run in a race run all, but one obtaineth the prize? So run that ye may obtain. And every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now they do it

to obtain a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible.” Finally.

The children of this world are more considerate in their foresight. The parable, from which the words on which we remark are taken, is intended especially to illustrate the foresight which the children of this world exercise to avoid coming evil, and secure future good. The future, indeed, which the carnal eye takes in, is contracted; it extends no further than the boundary of the present life. For all the eternity which lies beyond the term of present existence, worldly men make no provision at all. With them, too, it is a most precarious future for which they toil and sacrifice. Their plans may all fail, or their labours be all lost, by death assailing them ere their hopes be realized. Yet, with all their uncertainty, they strive, and suffer, and plan for the future, with a considerate foresight. Are they informed of any calamity approaching? They are instant in preparation to escape its stroke, or modify its troubles. Are they apprised of a greater good that can be attained by submitting to partial evil? What sacrifice of present comfort do they not make to gain the promised good? They will expose themselves to the perils of a foreign clime, will submit to toil through years of privation, in prospect of rest or riches when life is advanced. Again, here the children of light suffer from a comparison with the children of this world. They have an infinitely noble future before them, and a glorious assurance that no labour or sacrifice for it will be lost; yet they seem to do less for the rewards of eternity than the men of the world do for the advantages of time. Christians are assured that departure from God entails certain evil on their souls, destroying their comforts, filling them with sorrows, and bringing on them trouble of heart, for which nothing can compensate; yet, often, how small is their watchfulness against that which may

lead them astray? They are told that sacrifice and service for Christ shall receive a full reward; yet it is - humiliating, that far more have gone to foreign climes at the call of worldly motive, than have gone, in obedience to the Saviour, to declare unto the nations his glorious gospel. They are certified that gifts given for the cause of Christ shall be returned at his coming with an infinite increase; yet how stinted are their offerings, as if they did not trust their Lord for the liberality of the returns he has promised to make, to all who sow bountifully for the future. What need is there here for living more under the powers of the world to come, for regulating life by a supreme regard for eternity, and laying up in store a treasure in heaven?

In drawing these remarks to a close, we address a word first to the children of this world. To such we say, we have been comparing your conduct with those from whom better things might be expected, and the result is in one sense to your advantage. Yet remember, there is in this no ground for your glorying. It is only in your generation that you are wiser than the children of light. Viewed as living among men who act as if there were no eternity, and who account this world the chief good, you conduct yourselves more agreeably to your sentiments and aims, than those do, with respect to theirs, who profess to look to heaven as their proper home. Take it for granted that after death

you live no more-that there is no judgment to come-no hell for them who forget God-and your conduct may be proper, for you are wise in your generation. But your own heart, as well as the word of God, testifies that far too much is thus taken for granted. There is a life to come, and a judgment day, and an everlasting destruction for them who neglect the great salvation. And since there is so, this your present way is your folly. Awake, then, to a sense of your danger in acting as if there were no hereafter. Be not only wise in your generation, but obey the word of Christ, "which is able to make you wise unto salvation."

Next, to the children of light we say, Solomon leads you to the ant to learn wisdom; here you are directed to the children of this world. Receive admonition from them, to redouble your diligence in the concerns of your souls. Follow not vain speculations about the mysteries of religion, but bow practically to the word of mercy. Be not like those who seem resolved to stand without the threshold of salvation, till every mystery of religion is made plain; but yield to the kind leading of a willing Saviour, that you may enter by the open door into the city. "Be not slothful, but followers of them who, through faith and patience, inherit the promises. Let us who are of the day be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love, and for an helmet the hope of salvation." W. R.

of God he was especially prepared, at an early age, to enter on the sacred office, and peculiarly fitted for the discharge of its duties in those troublous times, when a double portion of faith, zeal, and unbending constancy was necessary for those

who became the ambassadors of Christ to the people. With a heart deeply affected by the desolate state of the churches, he gave himself up unreservedly to the cause of the Redeemer. His first aim was to collect together some of the remnants of the scattered flocks that were now wandering as sheep without a shepherd. With this view, he went first into Upper Languedoc and Guienne, where his person was not known, and where he therefore might be better able to labour in his office, undiscovered by the enemies of the Protestant church. But he found the minds of the people in these districts so filled with alarm and consternation, that in most instances they dared not listen to his exhortations, or even provide him with a place of retreat. He succeeded, however, in gathering together two or three small assemblies, assisted by two Protestant gentlemen, who were themselves fugitives, seeking concealment from their adversaries, having refused to bow the knee to the idol of Romanist worship. Finding himself unable to do more in that quarter, he returned to the neighbourhood of Nismes, hoping there to reap a richer harvest; nor was he disappointed. He was favourably received by his brethren, and had established several assemblies, when he was betrayed by the treachery of a man who had obtained his confidence. But his work was not yet finished, and the God whom he served protected him in the midst of his enemies, and enabled him to retire with safety into Languedoc. Here and in Albigeois he resided some time, until new dangers compelled him to return into his native province. Arrived once more in the vicinity of Nismes, it was impossible for him to resume his pastoral labours among his former friends, as it was necessary for him to keep himself as closely concealed as possible, in order that he might escape the observation of his enemies. But to

a truly devoted mind, means of usefulness will occur in situations apparently the most unfavourable.

M. Rei was enabled, from his obscure retreat, to pour consolation into the hearts of his suffering brethren confined in the prisons of the district, by the letters he addressed to them, tending powerfully to strengthen their faith, and confirm them in the resolution to suffer every evil their persecutors could inflict, rather than desert the holy cause in which they were engaged. While thus occupied with the talent at that time committed to his care, a way unexpectedly opened for more extensive usefulness. He received an invitation to go into the Cevennes, where a large body of the faithful sighed after the word of God. He obeyed this call with joy and thankfulness, though fully aware of the dangers he encountered in accepting so prominent a station among the persecuted. Impressed with a sense of the perils which awaited him, he would not expose either himself or his father to the anguish of a personal adieu, but addressed a farewell letter to him before he left Nismes, entreating him to prepare himself for the early martyrdom of his son; telling him that his conscience inspired him to go and sacrifice himself for God, and for the interest of the church. He expressed his entire resignation to the will of his heavenly Master, in whatever way he might see fit to dispose of him; and he exhorted his father not to murmur in case that he should hear that he was

arrested, but to endure patiently all the sufferings it should please God to send him. Arrived in the Cevennes, he preached the gospel with truth and fervour. To those who were faithful in the midst of so many trials, he addressed the word of consolation. Those who had fallen into the snares of the enemy, he exhorted to retrace their steps, and to return to their allegiance, as faithful followers of Jesus Christ. Those who were

wavering, he sought to confirm in the right path, by the most powerful and affecting arguments.

While he thus laboured with the zeal of an apostle, the enemies of the good cause to which he was devoted watched for his destruction, and, a second time, a treacherous friend was found to betray the place of his retreat. He was at Anduge, concealed in the house of a tanner in the suburbs. To this house the officers of government were conducted by the traitor, and M. Rei was seized, and dragged before a magistrate with great violence. From thence he was committed to prison, loaded with irons, and kept constantly in sight of the dragoons, lest some means of effecting his escape should be devised. From the prison of Anduge, he was transferred to that of Aleg, from Aleg to Nismes, and from Nismes to Beaucaire. Every where he was exposed to the persecutions of the monks and others, who undertook to labour for the conversion of the heretics. They tried every means to shake his constancy, but in vain. When interrogated by his judges with regard to the accusations brought against him, he replied fearlessly, that he had preached often, and in every place where he had found the faithful assembled. But when they wished to carry their enquiries further, and to induce him to discover the names of those who attended the assemblies in which he had presided, he gave no answer; and nothing could draw any further information from his lips.

Fearful of unnerving his mind by interviews with those to whom he was bound by the dearest and tenderest ties, he begged, as an especial favour of the officer who conducted him to Nismes, that he might not be permitted to see his father, or any of his relations; but that they might simply be informed, that he was entirely resigned to the will of God, and that the most cruel punishments could not shake his constancy.

It was determined that he should be executed at Beaucaire rather than at Nismes, because of the great number of Protestants in Nismes, whose faith, it was feared, might be strengthened by such an example of firmness as the young pastor exhibited; while their feelings could not fail to be deeply affected by witnessing the death of this devoted servant of God, cut off in the midst of his days by the hand of the cruel oppressor. Such a sight was certainly no argument in favour of that church under whose sanction the deed was done.

Beaucaire, four leagues from Nismes, had long been the residence of Papists wholly devoted to the superstitions of the Romish church, and the light of the Reformation had never penetrated thither. To this place, therefore, M. Rei was transferred for final punishment. Here, as at other places, he had to listen to the arguments of the monks, and other persons who came to persuade him to change his religion. The intendant, Baville, one of his judges, touched, it would seem, by unwonted compassion, came to speak to him. He took him aside, and conjured him to have pity on himself. He threatened him with death if he persevered in his faith, and promised him life if he would abandon his religion. But neither threats nor promises had power to shake his resolution.

When he was brought out for the final examination before the judges, the intendant made a last effort to prevail with him to change his opinion. "M. Rei," said he "there is yet time to save yourself."-“ Yes, my lord," replied M. Rei, "and I will employ for my salvation the time that remains to me." "It is only necessary to change," continued the intendant," and you shall live.”—“ It is indeed necessary to change," replied M. Rei; "but it is in going from earth to heaven, where a life of happiness awaits me, which I shall soon possess." The intendant assured

him that he might depend on his words, and that he would really grant him his life if he would change his religion. "Do not promise me this miserable life," said he; "I am entirely weaned from it. Death is better than life for me. If I had feared death I should not have been here. God has given me a knowledge of his truth, and he will grant me grace to profess it constantly unto death. For all the treasures in the world, I would not renounce those which God has prepared for me in paradise."

After this, he was again examined on the charges brought against him. The intendant asked if he had preached?" Yes, my lord," was the reply. He was then asked where he had preached?-He answered, "I have preached in all places where I have found the assemblies of the faithful." He was asked if he knew the king had forbidden it?- "The King of kings," said he, "had commanded me to do it; and it is right to obey God rather than man."

Again they attempted to discover in what places the assemblies at which he had presided were held, and what were the names of the persons who attended. But on this subject his lips were firmly closed, and nothing could induce him to expose his brethren to danger.

Finding him immoveable, they proceeded to pass the sentence. He was condemed to be hung; but first the torture was to be applied, to make him discover his accomplices. The commissary, whose office it was to read the decree of the court to the prisoner, desirous, if possible, to save a man whose heroic conduct excited interest in every breast, intreated him once more to think of himself. "I have thought," replied he, "and my resolution is taken. It is no longer a question of deliberation; I am quite ready to die, if God has so ordained it. All the promises which may be made to me can never shake my constancy."

66

The commissary, convinced of the firmness of his prisoner, at length read the paper of condemnation. He heard it without change of countenance, or any appearance of fear or sorrow; on the contrary, he testified his joy that God had given him grace to suffer for his name, and expressed his thankfulness that he had been condemned to a milder punishment than he had anticipated. "They treat me," he said, more mildly than my Saviour was treated; I had prepared myself to be broken on the wheel or burnt alive." Then, raising his eyes to heaven, he exclaimed,"I return thee thanks, Lord of heaven and earth, for the many benefits thou hast bestowed upon me! I thank thee that thou hast counted me worthy to suffer for thy name, and to die for thee! and I thank thee also that thou hast called me to suffer a death so mild, after having disposed me to endure the most cruel death for love of thee!"

He

Though the torture was applied with the utmost severity, he endured it with so much firmness, that he did not allow a single complaint to escape him. During this punishment, nothing was extorted from him to the disadvantage of his brethren. made no reply to the questions that were put to him, except that he had said all, and had nothing more to confess. When he was released from the torture, he said to those around him,-"I have scarcely suffered. I believe that you have suffered more than I have. I protest to you I have scarcely felt any pain." It was proposed to him to take some food. He did not object; he even ate tranquilly, although he knew he had only a few hours to live. During his repast he said to those about him,

"Others eat to live, and I eat to die. This is the last repast I shall take on earth; but in heaven there is a banquet prepared, to which I am invited, and angels will this night conduct me to it. Glorified spirits