probably refer it, is least of all so-a dying time.

You would not choose then to have any important business in hand; and will you of choice refer the greatest business of all to that languishing, hurrying, amazing hour? If a friend were then to come to you with the balance of an intricate account, or a view of a title to an estate, you would shake your fainting head, and lift up your pale trembling hand, and say perhaps with a feeble voice, "Alas! is this a time for these things?" And is it a time for so much greater things than these? I wish you knew, and would consider into what a strait we that are ministers are sometimes brought, when we are called to the dying beds of those who have spent their lives in the neglect of the one thing needful. On the one hand we fear lest, if we palliate matters, and speak smooth things, we shall betray and ruin their souls; and on the other, that if we use a becoming plainness and seriousness, in warning them of their danger, we shall quite overwhelm them, and hasten the dying moment which is advancing by such swift steps. Oh, let me entreat you, for our sakes, and much more for your own, that you do not drive us to such sad extremities; but that if you are convinced, as I hope some of you may now be, that the care of the soul is that needful thing we have represented, let the conviction work, let it drive you immediately to the throne of grace, that from thence you may derive that wisdom and strength which may direct you in all the intricacies which entangle you, and animate you in the midst of difficulty and discouragement.

3. I would, in the last place, address myself to those happy souls who have in good earnest attended to the one thing needful.

I hope, when you see how commonly it is neglected-neglected, indeed, by many whose natural capacities, improvements, and circumstances in life appear to you superior to your own— you will humbly acknowledge, that it was distinguishing grace

ONE THING NEEDFUL.

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that brought you into this happy state, and formed you to this most necessary care. Bless the Lord, therefore, who hath given you that counsel, in virtue of which you can say that He is your portion. Rejoice in the thought that the great concern is secured, as it is natural for us to do, when some important affair is despatched which has long lain before us, and which we have been inclined to put off from one day to another, but have at length strenuously and successfully attended. Remember still to continue acting on those great principles which at first determined your choice, and seriously consider that those who desire their life may at last be given them for a prey, must continue on their guard, in all stages of their journey through a wilderness where daily dangers are still surrounding them. Having secured the great concern, make yourselves easy as to others of smaller importance. You have chosen "the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, other things therefore shall be added unto you ;" and if any which you desire should not be added, comfort yourselves with this thought, that you have the good part which can never be taken away. And, not to enlarge on these obvious hints which must so often occur, be very solicitous that others may be brought to a care about the one thing needful. If it be needful for you, it is so for your children, your friends, your servants. Let them, therefore, see your concern in this respect for them, as well as for yourselves. Let parents, especially, attend to this exhortation, whose care for their offspring often exceeds in other respects, and fails in this. Remember that your children may never live to enjoy the effects of your labour and concern, to get them estates and portions. The charges of their funerals may perhaps be all their share of what you are so anxiously careful to lay up for them. And, oh! think what a sword would pierce through your very heart, if you should stand by the corpse of a beloved child with this reflection, "This poor creature has done with life before it learnt its great

business in it, and is gone to eternity, which I have seldom been warning it to prepare for, and which, perhaps, it learnt of me to forget."

On the whole, may this grand care be awakened in those by whom it has been hitherto neglected; may it be revived in each of our minds! And that you may be encouraged to pursue it with greater cheerfulness, let me conclude with this comfortable thought, that in proportion to the necessity of the case, is the provision which divine grace has made for our assistance. If you are disposed to sit down at Christ's feet, He will teach you by His Word and Spirit. If you commit this precious jewel, which is your eternal all, into His hand, He will preserve it unto that day, and will then produce it richly adorned, and gloriously improved to His own honour, and to your everlasting joy. Amen.

Letter to his Wife.

[Five volumes of Dr Doddridge's Correspondence were pub lished in 1830 by his great-grandson, John Doddridge Humphreys, Esq. Although edited with little taste or judgment, the five volumes contain many letters, for the preservation of which we are grateful. The following letter was written to Mrs Doddridge on a Sabbath morning :-]

NORTHAMPTON, Oct. 31, 1742. MY DEAREST, The comfortable news which Miss Rappit's letter brought me on Friday night proved very sweet, and, as I hope, put me in better spirits for the work of the day.

I question not, my dear, but that you and she are both wishing yourselves with us, and we should greatly rejoice in your being so; and yet I hope it will be some comfort to you, to think that we shall remember you at the Lord's table, and recommend you to the Divine support during your absence.

LETTER TO HIS WIFE.

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And I hope, my dear, you will not be offended when I tell you that I am-what I hardly thought it possible, without a miracle, that I should have been-very easy and happy without you. My days begin, pass, and end in pleasure, and seem short because they are so delightful. It may seem strange to say it, but really so it is, I hardly feel that I want anything. I often think of you, and pray for you, and bless God on your account, and please myself with the hope of many comfortable days, and weeks, and years with you; yet I am not at all anxious about your return, or indeed about anything else. And the reason, the great and sufficient reason is, that I have more of the presence of God with me than I remember ever to have enjoyed in any one month of my life. He enables me to live for Him, and to live with Him. When I awake in the morning, which is always before it is light, I address myself to Him, and converse with Him, speak to Him while I am lighting my candle and putting on my clothes, and have often more delight before I come out of my chamber, though it be hardly a quarter of an hour after my awaking, than I have enjoyed for whole days, or, perhaps, weeks of my life. He meets me in study, in secret, in family devotions. It is pleasant to read, pleasant to compose, pleasant to converse with my friends at home; pleasant to visit those abroad-the poor, the sick; pleasant to write letters of necessary business by which any good can be done; pleasant to go out and preach the gospel to poor souls, of which some are thirsting for it, and others dying without it; pleasant in the week-day to think how near another Sabbath is; but, oh! much, much more pleasant, to think how near eternity is, and how short the journey through this wilderness, and that it is but a step from earth to heaven.

I cannot forbear, in these circumstances, pausing a little and considering whence this happy scene just at this time arises, and whither it tends. Whether God is about to bring upon me any peculiar trial, for which this is to prepare me ;

whether He is shortly about to remove me from the earth, and so is giving me more sensible prelibations of heaven, to prepare me for it; or whether He intends to do some peculiar services by me just at this time, which many other circumstances lead me sometimes to hope; or whether it be that, in answer to your prayers, and in compassion to that distress which I must otherwise have felt in the absence and illness of her who has been so exceedingly dear to me, and was never more sensibly dear to me than now, He is pleased to favour me with this teaching experience; in consequence of which I freely own I am less afraid than ever of any event that can possibly arise, consistent with His nearness to my heart, and the tokens of His paternal and covenant love. I will muse no further on the It is enough, the effect is so blessed.

cause.

Since I began this letter I have attended family prayer; I wish I could communicate to you the pleasure I found in reading the Promises in Mr Clarke's "Collection," pp. 106, 107, and singing the eighty-ninth Psalm.

But the post calls, and I must therefore conclude, wishing you all the happiness I feel, and more if your heart could contain it. My dearest, your ever affectionate friend, who hopes to love you for ever,

P. DODDRIDGE,

Mary at the feet of Jesus.

O Mary, how delightful was thy situation! Who would not rather have sat with thee at the feet of Jesus, to hear His wisdom, than have filled the throne of the greatest prince upon earth! Blessed were thine eyes in what they saw, thine ears in what they heard, and thine heart in what it received and embraced, and treasured up as food, which would endure to everlasting life!

How unhappily was her good sister deprived of the enter