nière, I saw some of the identical copies of Nardin's Sermons, which were thus purchased at the cost of personal comforts; and the reader may judge with what feelings I turned over their pages, and fixed my eyes upon their owners."-Gilly's Memoirs of Felix Neff, Pastor of the High Alps.

THE UNCERTAINTY OF THE REPENTANCE OF DYING CRIMINALS.

From the Evangelical Magazine.

MR. EDITOR-I have just now laid down your November magazine, after reading your review of the published conversion of Cook, the murderer, whose case appears, from your extract, not to have been written with much caution. It reminded me of the case of a female murderer, who was hanged in Edinburgh many years ago, and whose name was Margaret Dickson. A venerable parish minister in that city, when preaching on the doctrine of repentance, and when cautioning his hearers against trusting to a death-bed repentance, related the case of M. Dickson, who was apprehended, tried, and condemned to be hanged in the Grass Market, for a barbarous act of child-murder. She was allowed the ordinary term of six weeks to prepare for her execution. During that time she was visited by several pious ministers, by means of whose instructions she appeared to be brought under deep conviction of her guilt before God, professed great contrition for it, and, after being some time in a despairing state of mind, professed to receive great relief and comfort from believing the gospel, that "Christ died for the ungodly-for the chief of sinners-that his blood cleansed from all sin," &c. Before her execution, the ministers were so satisfied of her having experienced a work of grace upon her heart, and having obtained like precious faith with themselves, that they professed their expectation of meeting her in heaven.

She was taken to the place of execution, and hanged. The day being extremely wet, and there being no awning to protect the magistrates from the rain, they ordered her to be cut down before the usual time, put into the coffin that had been prepared for her, and given to her friends, who had brought a cart from their home, in East Lothian, to carry the corpse to their own burying ground.

There was a little country public-house near the eleventh milestone, into which the party went to have some ale, leaving the cart and coffin in front of the house. While enjoying their ale, a boy came in, under great alarm, declaring there was something making a noise in the coffin. All present hastened out to the cart, broke open the coffin, and, to their no small surprise, found the corpse

perfectly alive-the jolting of the cart having restored the circulation of the blood.

Her husband and she left the part of the country where they were known, and took up their residence in the town of Berwick upon Tweed, where she had several additions to her family; but, alas, gave no satisfactory evidence of a change of heart, so that all the favourable symptoms she showed, while under sentence of death, were thought to have proceeded only from the workings of natural conscience.

Though I believe that one real believing view of the Lamb of God, will as effectually heal the maladies of the soul, as one glimpse of the brazen serpent healed those of the body; yet, with you, I think we ought to be very cautious in our assertions about the safety of persons who have hardly an opportunity of bringing forth the fruits of righteousness, or fruits meet for proving the genuineness of their repentance.

I remember the late Rev. John Newton, of St. Mary Woolnoth, mentioning, at his own table, the death of a lady. A young lady, who sat opposite, immediately said, "O Sir, how did she die?" The venerable man replied, "There is a more important question than that, my dear, which you should have asked first." "Sir," said she, "what question can be more important than, How did she die ?" "How did she live ?" was his answer. But, in poor Cook's case, we cannot refer to his life; wherefore it is safest to leave it to the judgment of Him who can do nothing but what is wise, just, and proper. I hope, however, that their belief respecting the state of him who died for that appalling murder, will turn out to be more true than that our world was to be destroyed last month, in spite of many Divine predictions and promises to the church, remaining unfulfilled; but these heavens and this earth cannot pass away till all these be accomplished. It is wonderful what human nature can work itself up to imagine! J. CAMPBELL.

Kingsland.

TOO LATE.

SOME years ago a pious young man was called to visit an aged person (between seventy and eighty) who was dangerously ill. He found him sitting in an arm chair, supported by pillows. "My first inquiry," says he, "was into the state of his mind; which I found to be very dark and ignorant. I endeavoured, in my poor way, to direct him to Jesus as the way to salvation, and as the perishing sinner's only Friend. I exhorted him also to prayer; earnestly entreating him to avoid delay in this most important concern. For a few minutes he listened with serious attention, till, all at once, he burst into a flood of tears, and exclaimed with a loud voice, Ah! my young friend, had I thought on these things thirty

or forty years ago, what a happy man might I now have been! but now (wringing his hands) it is TOO LATE! HELL MUST BE MY PORTION FOR EVER!'

"These words made an impression on my mind, which I think will never be erased; and should their insertion in the Tract Magazine produce, by the power of the Holy Spirit, a good effect on the mind of any one of your numerous readers, we shall have cause to rejoice in the heavenly world, that a soul was saved before it was TOO LATE."

TRANSUBSTANTIATION.

THE popish doctrine of transubstantiation is founded upon an abuse of the figure of speech," metonymy;" by which the subject is put for the adjunct. For when our Saviour, speaking of the bread and wine, at that time before him, says, "This is my body, and this is my blood;" his plain meaning is, they were the signs of his body and blood: the thing signified being put for the sign, by this sort of metonymy. But the papists take the expression literally, which must doubtless be very absurd; since the words relate to the time then present, while Christ was yet living, and spoke them; when it was impossible for the bread and wine to be converted into his body and blood, it being evident to all that were present, that those elements, and his body, existed separately at the same time.

LAST HOURS OF THE LATE REV. WILLIAM HOWELS. ON Lord's day, the 11th November, 1832, he officiated in his place of worship with his usual energy, and took for his evening text the last verse of the 87th Psalm: "All my springs are in thee." Little did his people imagine that they would hear his voice no more. On Tuesday, the 13th of November, he spent the greater part of the day with an old and attached friend, whom he afterwards named as his executor; and, from the testimony of that friend, it appears that his conversation was unusually full of heaven. On the Wednesday morning, symptoms of cold in the chest were distinctly perceived; and, with some persuasion, he was prevented from preaching, on the evening of that day, his weekly lecture. On the Thursday evening, disease had made such rapid progress, that fresh medical aid was called in. When the physician arrived, the first thing he said to him was, "See the effect of sin!" But, though he was always deeply conscious of the malignant nature and sad consequences of moral evil, he was not, in his last hours, under any apprehension as to the security of his own state. Perceiving his ordinary medical attendant, and the nurse who waited on him, dissolved in tears, he looked up earnestly to them, and said, You distress me; I am happy-there is no guilt on my conscience-I am in perfect peace!" He desired to be left to his own meditations, and was heard praying aloud, in most pathetic strains, for the beloved people of his charge.

On the Saturday preceding his dissolution, he was all day struggling with the last enemy; but, even then, he more than once evinced the serenity and ardour of his mind. The physician, perceiving that the current of life was fast ebbing, endeavoured to produce a temporary re-action of the bodily frame, by bringing the mind into play; and, for this purpose, began to speak to the dying saint of that double life, the. animal and spiritual, which God at first breathed into man. "Yes," exclaimed he, recalling the mode of expression in the original, "He breathed into man the breaths of life." As the mind was evidently roused, the physician went on to speak of man as a once beautiful mirror, which, though now broken into shivers, presents, in each broken fragment, some faint traces of the great original. The image did not, perhaps, exactly please him; and, summoning all his energies, he said, "You remind me of the story of a tiger which entered a house, and encountered a mirror, which, when he saw his own image reflected in it, he dashed in pieces, springing with the utmost fury on his supposed antagonist; but seeing still, in every broken fragment, a tiger reflected, he fled in terror. This," said he, "was the parting blow given to the natural man in every fragment of the mirror there is the figure of the sinner."

"The mucus being removed from his mouth, he expressed," observed Mr. Melvill, a sense of comfort, but showed the bent of his thoughts by saying, The soul, too, has its air-tubes, but they are choked by sin.' The physician's purpose was answered by the general relief of the system. The conversation then turned on the 14th chapter of John. Mr. Howels took up the subject, and began at the text, In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so I would have told you;' adding, with great emphasis, I go to prepare a place for you.' These were the last words he quoted from scripture. He then commented on them: Yes-our Lord says, You have been an out-door servant long enough; I will now make you an in-door servant, and take you out of the wind and rain, and give you a glorified body, and better wages, and a better mansion.'

"It must have been shortly after this that he took leave of his executor. Between one and two on the morning of Sunday, this dear friend approached his bed-side. He expressed to the dying saint his conviction that he must feel himself dear to Christ, and safe in Christ. The reply was Fully-for eternity'-spoken with great emphasis. After a pause, and in a lower tone, he added, 'I should be travelling beyond the bounds of the promise if I sought more for time.' He inquired after the wife of his friend, and desired that his parting blessing might be carried to her. Being told she was in the house, longing to receive the blessing from his own lips, he expressed immediate compliance. The husband and wife entered together, and knelt down by the bed-side. Their departing friend extended his arms, and, with a fervour and effect not to be described, exclaimed, The God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob, bless you both with all the blessings of the everlasting covenant!' He added expressions of gratitude for many kindnesses; and, receiving the last embraces of those whom he most tenderly loved, he dismissed them till they shall meet him again before the great white throne of the Lamb. He lived about three hours after this interview. To the very last he was singularly clear and collected.

Shortly before his death, he pronounced a farewell blessing on his surgeon and family. He then said, 'I desire to lie passive in the hands of the Lord;' and, taking the hand of the surgeon, he added, 'I can talk no more.' These were his last words; and, in all tranquillity, unruffled and undisturbed, between four and five on the morning of the sabbath, he slept in Jesus."

A DRUNKARD REFORMED.

THE Rev. Hugh Stowell said, at a district meeting of the Temperance Society, held at Salford, at which he presided, that his attention was most forcibly drawn to a wretched-looking old woman, whom he had not previously known, but of whom he had frequently heard as being a notorious drunkard; one who was seldom sober for six consecutive days; and who, on one occasion, had stripped the clothes from her child's back, wherewith to obtain the noxious draught. Her daughter, who was a teacher in the sunday school connected with that church, and a very exemplary young woman, had been compelled to leave her mother, as she had occasionally attempted her life. In the course of his speech at the meeting alluded to, while he dwelt on the dreadful effects of the vice of intemperance, he thought he observed some marks of feeling manifested by this poor old woman. On going home she met with her daughter, to whom she expressed her intention of going on sunday to hear that gentleman preach, whom she had heard at the Temperance Meeting. Owing to an accident, she was taken ill in the interval; he was sent for to visit her; and he would say that he had seldom or never witnessed such a scene of distress and destitution as was presented in her abode. One of her old pot-companions was with her; on seeing Mr. S., although very weak, the poor woman raised herself upright, and exclaimed with energy, Ah, Bet! that's him; he cut the flesh off my bones just." She was, however, restored to health; and eventually became a member of the Temperance Society, after imposing on herself two months of probation; she afterwards became decent in her appearance, had procured herself necessary clothing, and was now quite comfortable. But the good effects of the Temperance Society had not ended here; for she had become altogether a christian, and was now as discreet and consistent a communicant as any in the churches of Manchester and Salford.

One or two other passages in her history he could not omit. She once went to visit a sister-in-law, who had formerly been her booncompanion. On arriving, she found her along with another woman, seated with a bottle of gin before them, just about to indulge in a drunken revel. As soon as she entered, they fastened the door inside, and after expostulating with her on the folly of giving into the "Temperance folks" in her old days, when she ought only to think of making herself comfortable, they swore not to let her depart till she was completely drunk. On hearing this, to use her own words, she "was struck all of a heap." Owing to some ready thought, she alleged an excuse for withdrawing, which they could not but admit to be sufficient; and, on arriving at home, in the height of joy at her escape, and anxiety lest she should be overtaken, she secured her own door, and devoutly returned thanks to Heaven for her providential escape from the snare.