to will and to do." It is yours, in religion, no.less llian in business, to choose your own course and shape your own destiny. “Be not deceired: God is not mocked. Whatsocver a man soweth, that shall he also reap. He that soweth to his flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption. He that soweth to the spirit, shall of the spirit rcap life everlasting.”

On the authority, then, of God's word, I assert that you are writing your own lives ; that you are the authors of your own deeds ; that you are held accountable by God, both now and in that “ day when every man's works shall be tried as with fire." I hope none of you are so foolish as to try to roll the blame of your wrong-doings upon fate, upon chance, upon necessity, upon the devil. I hope pone of you are so profane as even for a moment to think of rolling the blame of them upon God. But if you are making these attempts, your labour will be in vain; for wherever, as to their causes, you try to lodge your sins, whether in heaven or in hell, they will come back to you again, and “ lie at your own door.” If you are a swearer, you made yourself profane--if a drunkard, you made yourself internperate-if a hypocrite, your own hands wove those outer robes of piety, within which you hide a godless heart-if an adulterer, you made yourself vile. I speak plainly to you, because I long to do that which must, precede conversion, viz. : convict you of sin. I speak plainly to you, because I feel that man's gospel of vagueness and sentiment and dogma has played with you long enough. It is time so to speak God's truth, as that it shall strike home to your conscience, and become a discerner of the thoughts and inteuts of the heart. I would that another Nathan might arise in every English congregation, commissioned by God to tell another parable, which should have the effect of searching out personal sin as effectually and pointedly as when the prophet thus charged it home upon David :-“ Thou art the man. Thou !-thou !--thou ! Bethink thee, my friend. Be honest with thyself. Our lecturing, and preaching, and praying, will touch thee only as shadows touch the rock3, upless thou thinkest for tbyself. Pray alone. Be in downright earnest about thy soul. It is more to thee than the universe beside. Whither is it tending—wbither? to heaven or to hell? Forget this audience, this city, this world for once, and put thy faculties, man, into that question. Forget the voice that is now speaking to thee, and look straight up to thy God. I want to bring thee beneath His eye. I want thee to feel the rays of His omniscience piercing thee through and through. I want thee, as thou crossest the steps of the Exchange to-day, and goest to thy home, to feel that “ He is about thy path." And as thou liftest thine eye to God's sky, I want thee to remember how it twice parted asunder, once when his only begotten Son descended to die for thy sins, once when he ascended to live and to intercede for thy soul. Now, He is at once there and here. I preach a present Saviour. “Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world.” “Behold now is the accepted time, behold now is the day of salvation." “ Let the wicked man forsake his way, and the uprighteous man his thoughts ; and let him turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him: and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon."

THE REVIVAL IN EYEMOUTH,

BY THE REV. W. LANDELS. EYEMOUTI is the writer's native place. The first twenty years of his life were spent there; and since his residence in other parts lie has visited it at least once or twice yearly, is acquainted personally with a considerable number of the inhabitants, knows something of nearly the whole of them, and, is, therefore, well qualified from his connection with the place to judge of the true character and value of the change which has recently taken place there.

The village, which contains a population of about 1,600, stands on the seashore, about nine miles north of Berwick-upon-Tweed. It has never been very much characterised by deep religious feeling; but, like other villages whose inhabitants for the most part follow the occupation of fishermen, it was formerly distinguished by the superstitions, and, until the commencement of the revival, not a little given to indulging in the vices which prevail among the seafaring class. Within the writer's remembrance there was—with the exception of an upper room in which a very small Baptist community was accustomed to meet-only one place of worship in the village, and in that only one service was held on the Lord's-day during the winter months. Since then four new chapels hare been erected, supplying an amount of accommodation which is not required by the necessities of the place. But with all this church accommodation, and notwithstanding that nearly all the inhabitants-like those of other villages in Scotland—are members of churches, there was previous to the present season of revival no extraordinary amount of vital religion. There were a few earnest, devoted Christians connected with different churches, who maintained a very decided piety; the ministers, too, were more or less active in their attempts to do good. But the great body of the people gave no signs of spiritual life. Their conduct testified unmistakably, as many of them do, now sorrowfully acknowledge, that they were without God in the world. The general feeling was so much opposed to religion, that it required no small amount of courage for any one in his daily life to think and act like a Christian. Undemonstrative in their habits, they were ready to attribute hypocrisy to any one who openly avowed his posses. sion of a life in which they were conscious they did not share ; and while profanity was allowed to pass unchallenged, many did not hesitate to assail with their ridicule any one who ventured to pray. Such was Eyemouth not long ago.

During the last few weeks, a movement has commenced which, for the time being at least, has completely changed the character of the place. When the writer visited it in December last he found nearly the whole population under deep religious impressions. Many had found peace of mind and were rejoicing in Christ ; others were convinced of their sinfulness, and eagerly seeking salvation. For some days before work had been almost entirely suspended; the various places of worship were thronged night after night with those who were thirsting for the word of life. After unusually protracted meetings, inquirers could not be induced to leave the pews; and often until midnight, yea, for nights together, were the ministers engaged in conversation with anxious souls. Religion had become the one engrossing subject with every one. In the streets, where groups of two or three were assembled, they talked of God's dealings with them. By their own firesides we often found them sitting, a Bible in the hand of each member of the family, silently perusing the word of God. A strange awe had

come over the whole village. That in many instances had deepened into severe mental distress, which was succeeded by holy joy; in others it had led to anxious inquiry; and even where no such decided results had fol. lowed, it had induced a solemnity of manner, and an outward respect for religion, which were most strikingly at variance with their former habits. Those who had not personally become subjects of the influence were, as far as the writer could ascertain, rare exceptions, and even these could no longer scoff, nor preserve an air of indifference. They were struck and solemnised with the manifestations and results of that power which was working around them.

The writer feels how impossible it is properly to describe a work of this nature. No words of his can transfer to other minds the impression produced on his own by what he heard and saw. It is impossible indeed adequately to conceive of it without having known the people previously, as he did, and then witnessing the change that has taken place. Among all who are thus situated there is but one opinion as to the character of the movement. Whatever may be thought of it by dwellers in the distance, who have only heard of what has taken place, there is no inhabitant of the village capable of forming an opinion on the subject who does not acknowledge that it is the Lord's doing. No Christian, who can discern marks of grace, would hesitate to attribute it to a Divine source, any more than he would question the existence of light when the sun shines at noonday. Everything about it makes one feel instinctively that it is divine. This is not the conclusion to which we come after a nice balancing of evidence; it is a conclusion which we never think of questioning. The work bears every. where its own credentials. It has visibly impressed upon it the Divine seal. Wonders have been wrought which far transcend man's utmost efforts. Results have been produced which can only be attributed to the direct forthputting of the Divine power. A minister of the place who was absent at the commencement of the movement-a shrewd, cool, clearheaded man, one of the least likely to be carried away with the excitementtold us that he reserved his opinion until he had visited the people from house to house; and that now he had done so, it appeared to him perfectly miraculous ; he could scarcely believe it true. He had sat beside some of the converts-noticed their altered expression, their subdued, softened, refined manner-listened to their altered tone of voice-the unwonted accuracy and even poetry of their speech and said, wondering within himself, “Can these be the people whom I have formerly known ?" His testimony coincides exactly with all that we heard from othere, and with the impressions which we ourselves received. We had witnessed many conversions before. But this was something altogether new to us. We had never seen any people in whom God was so manifestly at work. In all previous cases there had appeared some remote connection between the means used and the results realised; but here there was an entire people awakened without any visible human instrumentality. It could not be traced to man's labours in any way. We felt that the power of God was moving the people. We felt so convinced that the movement was produced by his hand, that we were not afraid of man's blunders bindering it. Our feeling was, that he who had begun it so independently of human agency, where there was 80 much to oppose, might be entrusted to carry it on—that he who had wrought such a mighty change in such an unpromising field, could and would obviate or overrule any obstacle which erring men might offer to its progress. We learned as we never had learned it before, and as your dear readers bave not learned it yet unless you have witnessed a work of this nature—that when the Spirit of God moves mightily among a people, he

works in a manner which leaves no room for mistike as to who the worker is. His work is accompanied by those marks which infallibly attest its Divinity, and constrain all but the wilfully blind to acknowledge, “This is the Lord's doing; it is marvellous in our eyes.”

We cannot, as we have stated, present in a definite form the evidence which has given us this impression. But there are some features of the movement to which we would now advert, which partly account for it. Nothing was more noticeable than that to which we have already alludedthe absence of human instrumentality. No special services had been held with the view of producing excitement. There was nothing in the preaching, as far as we could learn, peculiarly fitted to arouse or convert. The ministers did not expect the movement, and were somewhat surprised when it commenced. When some of their members who saw its first indications requested them to open their churches for prayer, they hesitated from a fear that few would attend ; and, on consenting, were surprised and gratified to find that the people flocked in greater numbers than the churches would contain. Instead of that former in difference to Divine things, over which the ministers had often had occasion to mourn, God had poured out a spirit of inquiry which was as grateful to them as it was new; and their strength was over-tasked, and night and day, for a time, were spent in the delightful work of directing sinners to the cross. It was all so sudden and unexpected, that they could scarcely credit what they saw, and instead of connecting it with their own efforts, they exclaimed with grateful surprise, “ What hath God wrought!"

Another thing which struck 118 was the perfect naturalness of manner which characterised every one. We saw nothing unnatural, nothing put on. There was no assumption of a solemn tone when they spoke of religious things. We saw nothing of that sanctimoniousness—that assumed earnestness which has often pained us in those who were attempting to get up a religious excitement, as if the speaker's thought were, “Now I must try by my tones to produce a solemn impression." All whom we saw were perfectly natural, as if they had forgotten self, and felt that the work was God's alone. There was a tenderness of spirit, a softened, subdued manner, especially in the young converts ; but nothing which would have caused the most discerning mind to conclude that they were less serious than they seemed.

The joy of the young concerts was also very remarkable. It was a difficult task to restrain our feelings as we went from house to house, and witnessed the general rejoicing. We needed not to be told how they felt. The beaming eye, and the radiant countenance, and the tear rolling down the cheek, testified, more plainly than words, to the joy which had taken possession of their souls. Care-worn faces that were well known to us seemed to have lost some of their wrinkles, plain features were lit up into loveliness, by the new and better life of which they had become partakers. Never had they known happiness until now, they told us; they were now enjoying a heaven below.

Perhaps we were most of all impressed by the unrestrained and unreserved manner in which they spoke on religious themes. They had thrown off all natural shyness and conventional restraint. Whereas formerly they would have been ashamed to speak of the soul or of Divine things, they now gave expression to their feelings openly and fearlessly. Religion, so far from being shunned as a theme on which they would have blushed to speak, was now spoken of everywhere and by every one. Young converts, without any fear, and also without any unbecoming forwardness, but with the air of men who felt that religion was all important, went out to speak and

pray with their former associates in sin. One young man whom we have long known, and should have imagined the last to give any demonstration of religious feeling, called together a group of lads who were passing the field in which he was at work, and there, with the horses and the plough standing beside them, they knelt down in the open day, while he offered prayer to God on their behalf. The current of public feeling had completely changed. We saw no one who was ashamed of religion. The only ones who were ashamed were those who, when asked if they had felt the mighty influence which had so transformed others, hung their heads as they felt constrained to confess that they had not.

Then we doubt not that our impression as to its Divine source was partly owing to its great extent. As we have said, the entire village was outwardly moved. In one part of it nearly all the residents seemed converted. Few houses were without converts. In many there were two or three ; and under one roof we counted no less than ten who gave satisfactory evidence of a change of heart. The work had, moreover, extended to every class. Young children, and women of fourscore, the untaught and those who bad received a college training, the profligate and the respectable, the openly profane and those who possessed the form of godliness without its power, had all become the subjects of a saving change.

And while thus thorough and extensive, the work appeared to us singularly free from noisy excitement. We learned that some rather striking ebullitions of feeling had attended its commencement, especially in the Methodist chapel : but all this had subsided prior to our visit; and during our stay we heard no rant nor shouting of any kind. All the meetings we attended where characterised by quiet, solemn earnestness, by a devout and reverent manner, and by the eager and hushed attention with which they listened to the word of life. Generally the work in individuals commences in a feeling of depression, rather than excitement-an uneasy con. sciousness of something wrong, which deepens, until through faith in Christ the burden is removed.

A wide-spread feeling of this nature was the first indication of its commencement in the village. A growing spirit of seriousness had been observed for some time before; and two or three occurrences which took place almost simultaneously led to its breaking out into the decided form which it has since assumed. A young man, now one of the most promising converts, when off at sea was observed by one of his companions to be in great distress of mind. This man urged him to pray; but, though groaning under a sense of sin, he at first refused. Afterwards the cry for relief was wrung from him by his mental agony; and before he returned to land he had become a new creature. A good man when engaged in prayer in the Free Church prayer-meeting was so impressed with a sense of the nearness and holiness of God, that he was suddenly paralyzed and carried into the restry insensible. In the Methodist chapel a young woman under great distress of mind screamed out, and in thrilling tones cried for mercy, then shortly afterwards gave loud expression to the joy which followed a sense of forgive. ness. These things occurring close upon each other were naturally talked of throughout the village, and seemed greatly to deepen the feeling which previously existed. The meetings were thronged; one after another was converted ; and in a short time the whole place was moved.

We heard of many cases of conversion of a deeply interesting character. Our space does not permit us to mention more than two or three. One man, who was our schoolfellow and playmate, told us that for some days he was greatly depressed, felt that something was wrong with him, went to chapel at night, and was asked to speak with the minister,---remained for