cious consequences which would attend such company, and appeared very solicitous to avoid them. But (how it was, I have now forgotten; whether before these considerations, he had contracted a correspondence, and had not resolution to deny himself; or whether afterwards, by dalliance, and giving latitude to his fancy, he forgot himself) some way or other, he proved to be entangled with a daughter of the Chaldees; which, between the instructions he had received, and his own. unguarded affections, caused some strugglings in his mind. For, though the person was of a complacent disposition, and did not seem at all reluctant to the things he had in view, yet he plainly perceived, she had no real taste to them, and that her innate disposition was more to Babylon than Canaan. She had never been convinced of the misery and ruin approaching her native country; nor had she ever been acquainted with the pleasures and delights of that land which he was seeking after; nor had she any desire to the way. But his strong inclination stimulated him to reason upon every thing in the most advantageous and promising light, and to put the most favorable construction upon every circumstance; as thus-" That · her complacence was such, that she would not be any hindrance or molestation to him. That by his example, he might engage her mind to that which she had no inclination to at present. That those engagements which he should enter into with her, were of another nature, and might be performed without interfering immediately with the concerns of his journey. That it was very hard to be prohibited from the enjoyment of one who (in all other respects) appeared so desirable. And that, probably, he might never find a companion complete in every point, &c." In short, the young man persisted in these kinds of reasonings, until he had almost stupified his senses-But still could not free himself from convincing and dreadful apprehensions of the evil of taking so indirect a step; and the inconveniences which were certain to attend it.

Until at length a resolute passion prevailed so far, that his eyes were darkened, that he scarce perceived the day from the night. And during this obstruction of his senses, he went one evening, after both sun and moon were gone down, and joined hands with this Babylonian. But when the sun rose in the morning, and he was a little come to himself, he then became sensible of the rashness of his adventure; but it was too late to recall it. He was now aware, into what snares he had brought himself; in what difficulties he was involved, and what hindrances must attend his journey; and that now he had no way left, but to make the best he could of the matter, and to grapple with it, as well as it should please God to enable him.

So, after some anxious thoughts and bitter reflections, he endeavored to smother his grief as well as he could, and betook himself to his journey; exerting his utmost skill and power, to take his companion along with him. But, alas! when he attempted to lead her into the way, he found she had no feet; she could not move a step further than he carried her; and a heavy burthen she proved. So I observed some of his travel. And when he had met with dangers, distresses, or disappointments, he would begin to express his grief, and to unbosom his mind to his companion; but she had no ears, no understanding, nor heart to sympathize with him: nor was she capable of being made to know the nature of his complaints. If he was beset with robbers, wild beasts, serpents, or any annoyance, he would sometimes make his complaint to her; but she could neither assist nor comfort him. If he wanted direction in any part of his way, she could give him no counsel. If he was sick or wounded, and wanted cordials, or oils to his wounds, she had no hands to administer any relief. And as she never was capable of yielding him any succour or comfort in his sufferings; neither was she ever capable of partaking of any of his enjoyments. If he met with any gardens of spices, or refreshing springs by the way, he would offer her to

eat or drink with him, but she had no taste. If he found sweet flowers, he would pluck and give them to her, but she had no smell, nor could have any delight in them. If he had any delightful prospects by the way, he would endeavor to shew them to his companion, but she had no eyes. If he met with any fellowtravellers by the way, he would invite her to enjoy their company, but she was never sociable, with himself or any other person, who spoke the language of Canaan; for it was a language which she could not learn. Thus, whatever grief befel him, or whatever enjoyments he was favored with in all his journey, he never found any sympathy or congratulation from her; nor was she of the least use to him all the way: nor were her affections ever moved, any otherwise, than sometimes to despise, and sometimes to shew a disgust, or disturbance of mind.

But as she had no life, capacity, sense, nor activity in the chosen path; she had so much the more vivacity in things pertaining to her own element. So that, when she could draw him aside out of the way, she would discover such a sprightliness in all her senses; be so pleasant and diverting, and all parts of her conversation so engaging, that it often prevailed upon him to turn aside with her, and proved a very great hindrance to him in his journey. For though it was not in his power to find any thing in his way that would divert or influence her mind; yet she frequently found out something in her own path, which did divert and insensibly draw away his heart, by which he was many times entangled and laden with thick clay.

Another thing I observed, that after he had begun his journey, the king of Israel (whose subject he was) sent him some young lambs to feed; with a strict charge to teach them diligently in the way, and bring them up in his nurture and admonition. But the performance of this command was rendered impracticable; for as he instructed them to go right, she induced them to wander—as he endeavored to gather them, she scat

VOL. II. No. 2.

tered them and as he fed them with wholesome food, she would surfeit them with poisonous herbs. So, which way the king disposed of them afterwards, I never knew, but they never prospered under his care.

Thus her company never yielded him the least benefit or assistance, through his whole journey; but was an allay to all his joys, and an aggravation to all his sorrows. And it frequently caused him very much regret of mind, to think of his own unadvised engagement; and of the much neglect in duty, wandering, and lost time, which it had been the occasion of to him; as well as to observe, the wretched stupefaction of her mind, which was incapable of sharing in any of his blessed enjoyments, or of being affected with any of his calamities. In so much as it turned his pleasant journey into a wearisome travel, through a lonesome wilderness.

But at last, through many dull hours, fatigues, and tiresome steps, he arrived near the borders of the land, upon the bank of the river Jordan; where, in the midst of the stream, he beheld a man in a rich, priestly vesture, standing to stop the torrent, till he was passed over; which made him approach the river exceedingly transported with joy. Yet even here he could not refrain from sighing, when he found it was not possible for his companion to go with him one step further. But the glory of his prince now in view, and the joy of approaching the promised land, soon revived his spirits, and made him, with readiness, leave her, to pass the river. Here his burthens dropped off, and all his clogs were left behind; he went on with fresh vigour and cheerfulness in his countenance, as if all things were forgotten, but the joy that was before him. But as he was taking some of his last steps, just ready to set his feet on Canaan's shore, he looked behind him, and saw her sitting upon the sand; and beheld the river returning with such an overflow, as carried her along the rapid stream, into the Dead Sea.

[To be continued.

[From the London EVANGELICAL MAGAZINE.]

ON THE DUTY OF PRAYING FOR OTHERS.

"BY praying for others, said good Mr Rutherford,

I was helped; for, in making an errand to God. for them, I got something for myself." Give me leave sir, to recommend this practice to all your readers. It is one of the genuine effects of the love of our neighbor; and the omission of it forms the prevalence of a vicious self-love. God forbid, said the pious Samuel, that I should sin in ceasing to pray for you. The man who cares not for his neighbor, has been justly compared to a hedge-hog, who laps himself up in his own soft down, while he presents his bristles to all the world besides; or, as the excellent Mr. Adam expresses it, when complaining of himself, Shut up in self, like a toad in a hole."

On the contrary, "Love seeks not her own." Love considers herself " a debtor to the Greek, and to the Barbarian, to the wise, and to the unwise." Our great Legislator has ordained that we should love even our enemies;" and, as the best proof of our love, that we should "pray for those who despitefully use us."The very form of the Lord's Prayer shews that we are to make "supplication for all saints;" and the Apostle of the Gentiles, by his authority, directs" that prayers and supplications be made for all men." When the Israelites were captive in Babylon, they were commanded "to seek the peace of the city, and pray unto the Lord for it, in the peace whereof they were to have peace." Moses and Samuel were eminent pleaders for their country; Abraham wrestled hard for Sodom; and if David were not always heard for others, his prayer returned with blessings unto his own bosom.

The Romans had a law, saith Mr. Gurnal, that no person should approach the Emperor's tent in the night, upon pain of death; but it once happened that a soldier was found in that situation, with a petition in his.