"This town of yours seems a very good place to live in?" he said, one day, to a man who was weaving a basket.

"So it would be," said the man, looking up thoughtfully, "if it were not for the river."

"What river?" asked the stranger-"I have not seen or heard of any river."

66

Why, no," replied the man, "I dare say not, for it runs a little way out of the city, and we have planted some trees in that direction that we may not see it; you will not often hear it mentioned, for in fact we do not consider it good breeding to allude to it."

"But what harm does it do to the town?" asked the stranger. "I don't wish to say much about it," replied the man, “it is a very painful subject; but the truth is, our King, whom you may have heard of, lives a long way off, on the other side of the river, and sooner or later, he sends for all here to cross over. We shall certainly all have to cross before long. The King sends messengers for us; there is scarcely a day in which some one is not sent for."

"But are they obliged to go?" asked the stranger. "O yes, they must go," replied the man, "for that King is very powerful. If he were to send for me to-day, I could not wait, even to finish my work. Sometimes he sends for our wives, or our children, and the messenger never waits till we are ready"

"What sort of a country is it on the other side of the river ?" asked the stranger; "is it as pleasant as it is here?"

"The river is so wide that we cannot, without peculiar assistance, see across it distinctly," said the man, "and when our friends and relations are once gone over, they never come back to tell us how it fares with them there. But yet, every one here is agreed, and the highest evidence confirms it, that the country across the river is a far better one than this. The air is so pure that it heals all their diseases: besides, there is no such thing as poverty or trouble, and the King is very good to them, and so is his Son."

"Well, then," said the stranger, "if the country be so fine, I do not see why you should think it such a misfortune to have to go to it, particularly as you are to see there all your parents

and children, and friends, who have gone there before you. Why are you so much afraid to cross the river ?"

The man did not answer at first; he seemed to be thinking of his work: at length he looked up and said-" When any of our friends are sent for, we always say they are gone over into that beautiful country; but to tell you the truth, this river is so extremely deep and wide, and it rushes along so swiftly

"Well ?" said the stranger

"I don't mind telling you," replied the man, 66 as you do not know much of these parts, that I think it very doubtful whether many of those who have to plunge in, can get to the opposite side at all. I am afraid the strong tide carries some of them down till they are lost. Besides, sometimes they are sent for in the dark, and, as I said before, the messenger never waits till we are ready."

"Indeed!" said the stranger, "in that case, so far from envying these people, I wonder to see them looking so happy, and so unconcerned. I should have thought they would have been so anxious lest the messenger should come. Pray, cannot your friends help you over?"

The man shook his head. "We have made a great many rafts, at different times," he said, in a doubtful tone, "but they all went whirling down the stream, and were wrecked. We began a bridge too, and it cost us incredible labour, but we could never make it reach beyond the middle of the river."

"Then," said the stranger, "are there no ships to convey you over: must you needs plunge alone and unhelped into those dark, deep waters ?"

"I am not learned in these matters," said the man, evidently uneasy, "and I do not pretend to be wiser than my betters, who generally think this a disagreeable subject, and one that we should not trouble ourselves about more than we can help." "But if you must all go?" said the stranger.

“I am a working man," replied the basket-maker, interrupting him, "and I really have no time to talk to you any further. If you want to know any thing more about this, you had better go and speak to that man whom you see talking to that group of children. It is his business to teach people how to get over the river, but I have not time to attend to him. I dare say

when my time comes, I shall get across as well as my neighbours."

So the stranger went up to this man who had been pointed out to him, and enquired whether he could tell him anything about the dreadful river.

"Certainly," said the man, “I shall be very glad to tell you any thing you wish to know. It is my duty : I am one of the ambassadors of the King's Son. If you will come with me a little way out of the town, I will shew you the river.”

So he led him over several green hills, and down into a deep valley, till they came to the edge of a whirling, hurrying torrent, deep and swollen. It moved along with such a thundering noise, that the stranger shuddered and said—

“I hope, sir, it is not true that all the people in the city are obliged to cross this river ?”

“ Yes, it is quite true," answered the man.

"Poor people!" said the stranger, "none of them can strive against such a stream as this; no doubt they are all borne away by the force of the torrent. Do you think any man could swim over here in safety ?"

“No,” said the man, looking very sorrowful, "it is quite impossible, and we should all be lost if it were not for the Bridge."

"THE BRIDGE!" exclaimed the stranger, very much surprised. "No one told me there was a bridge?”

"O yes," replied the man, "there is a bridge, a short distance higher up, and by means of it we can pass in perfect safety."

"What! may you all pass ?” asked the stranger, eagerly.

“Yes, all. The bridge is perfectly free, and is the only way of reaching the country beyond. All who try to swim over, or cross any other way, will certainly be lost for ever.”

“Sir,” said the stranger," if this be the case, I must hasten back to the city, and tell the people that no more of them be lost in these swelling waters."

“You may certainly do so, if you please," replied the man, “but know first that all the people have been duly informed of the bridge. My brethren and myself spend nearly all our time in telling them of the goodness of the King's Son, and how

neither he nor his Father is willing that any should perish,but their pride is very great."

"What! so great that they would rather die than use the bridge?" asked the stranger in astonishment.

"Some of them have built up works of their own," replied the man, "which they think are strong enough to bear them over into the King's country; others say they do not believe there is but one way of getting over, and some men throw themselves headlong into the flood, saying they do not believe there is such a provision, or at least that it was not meant for them. But, as I told you before, it is perfectly free, and the voice of the King's Son may sometimes be heard, calling to the people over the flood, and inviting them to come to Him; for strange as it may seem to you, he loves them though they are so backward to believe that he means them well."

"What!" interrupted the stranger, "does not the King's Son repent of what he has done; is he not sorry that he built a bridge for such a thankless race ?"

"No," said the man, "though they slight his offers of safety, he still sends ambassadors to call them to him, even at the very brink of the river. Nay, he often himself visits them, and by night, when all is still, he comes to their doors and knocks; if any man will open to him, he will enter and sup with him.* He will tell him how he has loved our nation, and what he has done for our sake. For indeed it cost him very dear to build that bridge, but now it stands stronger than a rock."

Now, when the stranger heard this, he wondered greatly at the ingratitude and foolishness of these people; and, as he turned away, I went up to the ambassador, and ventured to ask him the name of that city, and the country it stood in.

But it startled me beyond measure, when he told me the name of that country; for it had the same name as my own! ORRIS.

JONAH.

THERE cannot be a more satisfactory proof of the divine origin of the Bible, than its precise suitability to every age; since we must naturally fix upon this as a distinguishing fea

* Rev. iii. 20.

ture of a revelation from God to man. The contrast between it and an ordinary book, perhaps not more than one or two hundred years old, is in this respect most striking. When we take up the latter, we cannot but feel that the burthen of the work scarcely concerns ourselves, while its quaintness proclaims that it belongs to a by-gone age, and the truth or fallacy of the author's peculiar views has in all probability been long ago decided.

But the Bible keeps pace with every age, belongs to every nation, concerns every individual. The undesigned coincidences of the Scripture are indeed very beautiful, almost surprising; nor can they fail to convince our intellect of the truth of its several component parts; but such a proof as this speaks to our inmost souls, and draws them involuntarily into the acknowledgment that “all Scripture is given by inspiration of God," and that therefore every portion is calculated to benefit all of us in some way or other.

Bearing these remarks carefully in mind we shall be in a very favorable position for pursuing the study of the Scripture characters, because we are led from them to expect, what we shall invariably find to be the case, that the histories of the Bible saints are not mere records of men too holy for us to hope to imitate, but that the virtues for which they were pre-eminent, are those absolutely necessary to adorn the Christian profession, in all ages of the world, and that the difficulties of their situation were not peculiar to them or their times, but similar to those which the people of God will always have to contend with. At the same time, we shall view the exhibition of their failings as warnings against yielding to the same temptations. In short, we shall peruse them, not merely as a collection of interesting or romantic incidents, but as admirably selected lessons for our instruction.

We might profitably refer to the history of the prophet Jonah, the general outlines of which we have most of us been familiar with from our childhood, though the motives which actuated his conduct under the peculiar circumstances in which he is presented to us in the Bible narrative are not nearly so generally understood. Perhaps, some may have been in the habit of regarding this as a singular history; if so, they will