substance, and do not call to mind the giver and the greatest gift, whilst receiving inferior ones, do we then enjoy the blessings of the festival? And if we sit over these gifts until early in the morning, in what state of mind shall we be, on the great festival itself, whilst listening to the preaching of the Word of God? I fear it would frequently be the case with you and your Christmas-gifts, that they would make you forget the most excellent of all gifts. I therefore relate these things to you; and confess at the same time that, when I afterwards became more acquainted with the Saviour, it often grieved me, when I thought of this frivolous and futile mode of spending the Christmas festival. However, I will now return to my history.

Notwithstanding my heart was still unacquainted with the love of God in Christ Jesus, the wish to preach was now excited in me. I had made many attempts at preaching, even in my early years, when surrounded by my cows and sheep; and I now thought I was so far advanced, that I might let myself be heard by a Christian auditory.

I received the requisite permission, and

was in no want of the necessary courage. All went well the first and second time; but after I had preached the third time, a farmer came to me the following day, and expressed the wish to speak a word to me in confidence. He told me that he was come to thank me for my sermon; since it had rendered it evi- dent to him that there was great depravity in his heart; but still it was not clear to him, from my sermon, how this corruption could be removed and expelled, and he would therefore be glad if I could inform him. This perplexed me greatly, and I scarcely knew what to say; however, I sought help from the little stock of knowledge I possessed, and referred him to the commandments of God, which we must fulfil. But he immediately showed me that this could not be the right method, and stated the truths of religion in such a clear and obvious manner, that I was astonished. I preferred being his scholar, rather than act the part of a teacher, and conversed a long time with him; nor did his words fall to the ground, for they were words of truth. Much

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ashamed, I began to reflect upon my own state, and wished heartily to become a Christian. My unbridled imagination, that everfluttering butterfly, fell into the water, and its wings became so wet that it could fly no more, but from that time continues swimming only faintly upon the water, and looks about it only occasionally.

All the airy castles I had built were swept away by the wind of grace; my own light was extinguished, and all the self-prepared food for the soul was no longer able to satisfy me. I began to suffer spiritual hunger, which was something quite new and uncommon to me; and I said, with the prodigal son, "I will arise and go to my Father!" 1 did so, and he immediately met me with his paternal and tender loving-kindness. From that time the Saviour sought me still more effectually, and did every thing to bring me to a new life. From that time I could also tell the people, from my own experience, that a man's most dangerous state is not when he regards himself as lost, and can find nothing that is good in him, but when he supposes he possesses the true life, and that he is in

want of nothing, whilst he is, at the same time, spiritually dead.

This reminds me of a little tale I lately read. A pious but timid woman, who was inclined to doubt, complained to her pastor in the following manner :—′ "I fear my heart is not yet filled with the grace of God: I am dead, twice dead, and thoroughly corrupt." The clergyman replied, "One day, whilst I was sitting in my study, I heard a cry that my son John, (a boy of six years of age,) had fallen into the well. I immediately hastened down into the court, and there heard my wife exclaim, 'John is dead! he is dead!" I went in great alarm to the well, and called down it, 'John, art thou dead?' "Yes, father, I am dead,' replied he. I was then very glad at hearing him say himself that he was dead."

It was natural that I could not entirely conceal the change which had taken place in me, nor did I wish to conceal it. I no longer took any part in many things in which I had previously frivolously joined. I became more serious and sober, read much in the Holy Scriptures, and prayed from my

heart, as often as I felt impelled to do so. My language and sentiments in conversation now bore a different stamp; because I endeavoured in every thing to govern myself according to the word of God. Many thoughtless individuals, who often visited us, were at first astonished at it, but afterwards ridiculed and sneered at me. "It is a pity," said they: "the young man possesses so much knowledge, and such good abilities, and yet he is now falling into this delusion!" But I consoled myself for their mockery, by the conviction, that the Saviour thought quite otherwise of me, and that I was now more acceptable to him than before. I had lost the esteem and favour of persons of rank and the well-informed, but they were such as did not believe from the heart on Jesus; but I had gained in its stead a hope that never fades away. I thought of the French officer, who, on a journey, came to an inn, where he was obliged to stay for some time on account of the weather, and to whom, on his asking for something to read, in order to pass the time, a Bible was given. The book was new to him, and whilst reading