to its execution and its funeral. Within the short space of ten years, no less than three millions of human beings perished in that single country. That all this resulted from the principles of unbelief, I do not assert, whilst I am persuaded that they contributed no small portion to the general calamity.

After these remarks—a lengthened train of argument, that argument corroborated by fact, both setting forth the inadequacy of the voice of nature, whether to enlighten or to purify, I deem enough has been said to prove the necessity of a revelation. May God in mercy grant that such an effect may ensue in the minds of those who have hitherto questioned so clear a position. You, my Christian friends, you have seen abundant reason to rejoice in the light in which you walk; nor will you be persuaded to abandon Christianity, until it is proved to you that you have more light and stronger inducements than you actually need. To every assertion that revelation is not necessary, you may reply, "I do not find myself either too wise or too good with my present knowledge and my present motives, and I feel it difficult to believe that my condition would be bettered were I to diminish either." G. C. S.

Men Punished for Thinking Well of God.

THIS may seem incredible. It may be deemed inhuman. It may be denounced horrid. But incredible, inhuman, and horrid as it may be, it is yet, alas! too true, that "men are punished for thinking well of God." And by whom do you imagine is this punishment inflicted? Perhaps you say, it must be by fiends who hate God, or by savages who know not God, or by reckless scoffers who seek to degrade that good Being who formed, and preserves, and deals bountifully with them. No such thing. The punishment is inflicted, passing strange as it may appear, by men, who while they are doing that which neither scoffers, nor savages, nor fiends would do, are talking of vindicating the glory of God, and designating themselves orthodox, evangelical Christians!

But before the facts of the case are stated, let an illustrative story be told. Mr. Good had three sons whom he brought up with the greatest care, and always treated with the fondness and love of a parent, but, at the same

time, with the wisdom and caution of a faithful guide. They consequently arrived at manhood, amidst many invaluable advantages. With these advantages, and Mr. Good's warmest wishes and best blessings, the three brothers were sent to sojourn for a time in a distant country, from which it was intended that they should, at no very distant period, return to the house and society of their father. Their welcome reception, however, was conditional. "If during your sojourn," Mr. Good had said to his sons, "you honour and exemplify the name of Good, in your conduct towards one another, in your temperance, benevolence, and piety, and in your constant endeavours to promote each other's true interest and real happiness, I will receive you with open arms, and put you in possession of most ample means, for the extension of your happiness in future. But if you degrade and disgrace yourselves, you will forfeit my favour and reward."

Notwithstanding this wholesome advice and salutary warning, one of the brothers soon plunged into intemperance, malevolence, and impiety; and thereby injured the interest and diminished the happiness of his brothers, while he also ruined his own.

"What must become of our criminal brother?" said Zelotes to Alpheus. "He will lose pleasure and suffer pain," replied Alpheus, "while he continues in his present course, and unless he repent and amend, he will be severely punished when he goes home." "Punished!" exclaimed Zelotes, "to be sure he will. Father will have the wretch shut up in a loathsome dungeon, there to be tormented night and day, in every conceivable manner, as long as he shall live."

Alpheus paused a moment in utter astonishment, and then said, "Brother Zelotes, can you be so unfeeling, and deem our kind parent so merciless, as to look forward to the confinement of our poor erring brother in a loathsome dungeon, where he is to be tormented night and day, in every conceivable manner, as long as he lives? O brother, where is your compassion? What must become of our father's goodness? How can you and I ever be happy, while our brother is punished unceasingly, without the most distant view of curing him, but merely that our father's wrath may be gratified, and yet remain unappeased? Whence have we learned that our father is inexorable?"

"Inexorable and merciless!" exclaimed Zelotes, " no, no, I do not believe that our father is inexorable and merciless; and yet I am sure he will shut up our abominable brother, as soon as he catches him, and keep him in the most dreadful torments during life; and this our father will do, and must do, to vindicate his authority, his honour, and his justice."

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Upon my word," said Alpheus, in a tone which evinced surprise and pity, "I do not know where you learned, that our father must vindicate his authority, honour, and justice, by acting the relentless tyrant; nor do I at all understand the sophistry by which punishing, for the mere sake of punishing, can be shown not to be merciless and inexorable; but I am really almost as sorry for that want of feeling in you, which permits you to talk as you do, about tormenting our offending brother for life, as I am for the offences of that brother; and my regret that you entertain notions of our father so unworthy of, and so contrary to, all we know of him, is nearly as great as my regret, that our brother should have evinced such ingratitude towards both his parent and us.”

Alpheus had scarcely got these words out of his mouth, before Zelotes, who was both a powerful and a passionate man, advanced towards him in a great rage, and a menacing attitude, and said, "So, then, you are for having my father punish this rebellious and wicked son, only for a time sufficient to cure him of his folly, purify him from vicious contamination, and restore him to order and enjoyment. But I tell you no. This punishment shall last as long as he lasts. If you do not believe that, you shall be shut up along with your brother and share his punishment, to convince you of its reality and duration. And to prove to you my utter abhorrence of your opinion, I shall now turn you out of my presence, and advise every body to avoid you." And Zelotes was in this instance, at least, a man of his word. He gave Alpheus a violent push, and a severe blow at the same time, which together, sent him to the ground; and then warned all persons who passed by against either helping him up, or coming near him if he managed to get up of his own accord, because he was infected with a most dreadful and contagious disease. Zelotes was angry with his brother, for thinking better of their common parent than his own narrow, irrational views would allow him to think.

It is exactly the same, in the case, the facts of which are about to be stated. Four men who have been members of the Methodist New Connexion, in the Staffordshire Potteries, from fifteen to twenty-six years, and have filled the office of local preachers for periods of from ten to twenty-two years, have been expelled the connexion, and loaded with calumny, for adopting the opinion, that "all fallen intelligences will be restored to order and happiness." These men have given the public an account of brother Zelotes' proceedings, in a pamphlet entitled, "Sectarian Intolerance Resisted, and the doctrine of the restoration of all fallen intelligences to order and happiness, stated and vindicated from Scripture, the attributes of God, the writings of the ancient fathers, and from reason; in an address to Christians of every denomination." Brother Zelotes was of opinion, that these four men thought too well of God; and so having strength, he concluded that he had a right to turn them out, and beat them down, and trample upon them, and, besides all this, to give them a bad name. And all this the great witless, bigotted, conceited, irritable being has done. But what will his father say to him when he goes home? Will he not tell Zelotes that what he called vindicating his father's honour, was only vindicating his own whim? And will not this silly headstrong son then suffer for his folly and crime, in order that he may be reclaimed from both?

Let the self-righteous would-be-infallible professors of what is called orthodoxy, who expel men from their society, for rejecting the doctrine of endless torment, ask themselves, whether there is no danger of offending God, in representing him to be relentless and void of parental regards. God cannot possibly be offended with his children for thinking well of him, but he may be displeased with those who, to uphold a system, think ill of him. He may be angry with men who reproach, calumniate, and maltreat their brother men, because they believe that "Christ shall put all enemies under his feet," and "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain," for there shall be a restitution of all things," "and God shall be all in all."

Well, let the advocates of endless unmitigated torment, rave, and expel, and persecute, and evince by their con duct that they would burn body and soul without end,

if they had as much power as inclination; but let the believers in universal restoration prove by their gentleness, benevolence, and Christian love, that they are the sons of Him whose name and nature and dispensations are H. C.

LOVE.

On Character.-No. 1.

IT is to be lamented, how trifling an amount of valuable attention or animated interest has been hitherto bestowed by individuals on the self-formation of character. Men have been in earnest about every thing, but that, compared with which, all things else are poor and contemptible. If a thousandth part of the labour and solicitude expended upon the accumulation of wealth, were devoted to laying up treasures in the soul, how pleasing and ennobling a change would pass over the condition and enjoyments of human life. Consider the amount of toil and self-denial, the sacrifice of ease, the exposure to hardship and peril, the imminent and continued risk of destruction, paid by adventurous individuals, who track untrodden ways in the wilderness, or penetrate solitary and unexplored regions of the ocean, to purchase the applause and reward held out to such skill and daring by an eager and admiring world; or to bestow an uncertain benefit upon mankind; or perhaps only to gratify the feverish impulses of a bold, restless, and wayward disposition. What an expensive outlay for so problematical a return! How fruitless frequently such adventures, even when successful in arriving at their object, of any solid or permanent benefit to society! How often fraught with mischief, how still more frequently resulting in disappointment!

Now, let us imagine an energy alike prolific of labour, activity, endurance, and enterprise, and a perseverance alike untiring, patient, and struggling against all drawbacks, all difficulties, all discouragements, all disappointments, together with a like single and intent mindedness of purpose, devoted by an individual to the raising, establishment, and progressive enlargement and embellishment of his moral character. Oh, how glorious a being to look upon, to listen to, and to wait on, would such a one become! How tender, purifying, and instructive his influences on the domestic and social circle! How quicken