us well at all times. Think of a time of distress without prayer! In our best estate we are needy creatures. When the Lord withdraws for a season His countenance, how speedily is our prosperous state changed to adversity! "Pray without ceasing." In trouble remember your warrant-" Call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me."

It was no ordinary distress. It was a dark and cloudy day—a day of tempest: "Out of the depths have I cried to Thee, O Lord." Troubles have come over him like a flood. They are over his head. He is far down among them and lost. Were they temporal calamities?-about things of this world? In part, perhaps; but chiefly, we suppose, soul troubles. His sins come up in thick array, in terrible remembrance. They shake him with terrors; they point to the judgment; hope dies. But was he not a believer? Were not his sins pardoned? But he had lost his consciousness of that in this dark hour-a common case, a sad case, occurring in the experience of many humble, true-hearted believers. More than that, they are often, when overflowing with comfort because their iniquities are blotted out, conscious of deep and painful sorrow at remembrance of their great transgressions. Profoundest grief on account of sin consists well with sweetest comfort on account of sin pardoned. Sister graces, they live lovingly together.

In his prayer he acknowledges the holiness of Jehovah: "If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?" -who endure Thy holy scrutiny, and come out uncondemned? "Mark iniquities:" remember them against us, with all the circumstances and aggravations of their guilt; if Thou shouldest write them in Thy book; keep them by Thee, to bring them out against us in the judgment, and all this in order to measure out to us what our iniquities deserve,-in that case, O Lord, who shall stand? None; no, not one.

He will not fix his regard exclusively on his misery as a sinner, and on his helplessness in that misery. He will lay it to heart, and humble his soul; but he will not dwell on it exclusively. It would overwhelm him in still profounder depths-sink him in despair. Why should he do it? Why should any one? Is there not also the mercy of our God to look at? Let the prisoner of hope come forth of his dungeon; let him breathe the air, and walk in the sunshine, the chain being broken, the door open, and the invitation of the Highest sounding in his ear.

The Psalmist does this. No; he has no merit of his own-nothing to constitute a claim upon God. Well, but may not God have purposes of grace towards him? Let us look a little away from ourselves, a little towards God. Looking up to the Lord out of the waves, crying to Him out of the depths, what says he? "But there is forgiveness with Thee, that Thou mayest be feared." This will bring him out; this golden chain let down from heaven-"Forgiveness!" Then all may yet be well. Be patient, my soul, here is good news truly. Forgiveness! did you say? Ah, then, hope revives;

I feel a new life; my heart begins to beat again; a celestial beam darts across my desponding thoughts.

But what is this forgiveness, that it should work so mightily as soon as it comes in view and is apprehended? This: all thy sins may be forgiven; in the judgment of God, and in your relationship to Him, you may be reckoned and dealt with as a person quite innocent,-yea, as if you had never sinned in thought, word, or deed. A grave shall be dug for your guilt; it shall be buried; there shall be no resurrection of it to your condemnation. Ought not this to make one glad? Forgiveness is offered. You may have it; secure it, and be happy. Peace with God! Inestimable treasure! how shall one's heart not break for very joy? The adversary comes down on you like a roaring lion; he would swallow you up there and then: his rage is in vain, for your iniquities are forgiven. When the divine law brandishes its terrors in your face, you are still safe, it cannot touch you: you are hidden in the cleft of the Rock; you call out, and out, and out, in humble, realising faith, "With Thee there is forgiveness, that Thou mayest be feared."

But this is bold language. Is it not presumptuous speech? Can one without arrogance speak thus? We hope many of you can, and without the shadow of a charge of over-confidence. If a sinner, under a true sense of his sin and misery, has humbled himself before God-has accepted His mercy in Christ-is seeking to glorify Him in his body and spirit, which are His,-why should he not humbly acknowledge it to the glory of free grace? He ought humbly and hopefully to use such speech. For what end is it that Jesus Christ is set before you? For what is it you have believed in Jesus Christ, if not for the forgiveness of sins? Have you, then, come to Christ? Take comfort from the fact that your sins are pardoned; walk before Him in dutiful obedience all your days. "There is forgiveness with Thee." It may be asked, But for whom? For all who accept of it. It is offered to all. It is for all who will receive it. Why, then, do so many perish? Why are the gates of destruction so thronged, day and night, with such a multitude of souls come down from the place of hope, where forgiveness is preached through the blood of Christ, where pardon is offered on such comfortable terms -freely? Men ought surely to put some value on their souls. To escape the wrath and curse of God due to them for sin, ought to be no small matter in their estimation. So serious men think, but unawakened sinners do not. They do not, will not think about these matters at all; take no real interest in them; will not be troubled with them. So it is that multitudes go down from this earth, which is the place of hope, to hell, which is the place of torment. But the carelessness of the whole crew of the ungodly shall never divest the "glad tidings" of their gladness: "with the Lord there is forgiveness," and "with Him there is plenteous redemption."

THE COVENANTERS IN THE MERSE.

THE Merse has long been famous in history on account of many fights between England and Scotland, and also on account of bloody fends between rival families. This vast plain, stretching westward from the German Ocean to the borders of Roxburghshire, and northwards from the Tweed to the Lammermoors, contains about 200 square miles. For centuries it may be said to have been a vast battlefield, but during the past century, at least, it has been as peaceful and as prosperous as any part of Scotland. Little more than a hundred years since it was a vast marshy wilderness; now it is highly cultivated and fertile. Then there was hardly a hedge, a plantation visible; now the whole district is so regularly divided with hedgerows and plantations, as to give it the appearance of a large garden. Here, at least, in regard to agriculture and beauty, Scotland presents a favourable contrast with the part of England lying immediately opposite. From several points the view of this district is magnificent, both in regard to extent and richness. For instance, from the village of Chirnside, situated on an eminence near the centre of the Merse, the view extends eastward, southward, and westward, about thirty miles. This view is almost uninterrupted over an area of about a thousand square miles, including nearly the whole of Berwickshire, with parts of Roxburgh, Northumberland, and Durham. To the eastward may be seen the battlefield of Halidon, beyond it the town and bay of Berwick, and the German Ocean stretching far beyond. To the southward the oft-besieged Castle of Norham and the sad field of Flodden. The view in this direction, and westward, is bounded by the Cheviots, and embraces both sides of the Tweed, from Berwick to beyond Melrose, that is, for about forty miles. In the foreground of the westward view is a hill, sacred to every true lover of civil and religious liberty in Scotland-Dunse Law. With those who once encamped on it, our present remarks will be more particularly connected.

As our readers are generally aware, the struggles of the Scottish Covenanters were chiefly confined to the south-western counties, though many of them gave their last testimonies, and endured their last sufferings, in Edinburgh. But though the Merse is not often mentioned in the Scots Worthies, or Cloud of Witnesses, it was honoured with the successful encampment of the largest army, and comfortable observance of one of the greatest communions, that ever the Covenanters had. The first of these took place on Dunse Law, in June 1639. This hill is in the immediate vicinity of Dunse, a respectable, though small town, about fifteen miles westward from Berwick, and six from Chirnside. This town is very ancient, and is famous as the birth-place of Duns Scotus, Thomas Boston, Dr M'Crie, sen., and the late Principal Cunningham. Dunse Law, though not high, is sufficiently so to command a view of the whole of the Merse, to the bay of Berwick, and both sides of the Tweed, at the places where the English army was most likely to attempt at

passage. The top is, at the same time, so level and broad, as to afford an excellent camp for a large army. With his usual tact, General Leslie chose this strong and commanding position for the encampment of his army of 24,000 Covenanters. Here he effectually checked Charles I., in his threatened invasion of Scotland and imposition of Prelatic tyranny and superstition. In the words of a wit at that time, he beat the king "neither by civil law, nor by common law, but by Dunse Law." We would not attempt to describe this encampment, but merely quote the quaint description of an eyewitness, Baillie:

"It would have done you good to have cast your eyes athort our brave and rich hills, as oft as I did, with great contentment and joy; for I was there among the rest, having been chosen preacher by the gentlemen of our shire. I carried, as the fashion was, a sword and a couple of Dutch pistols at my saddle; but I promise for the offence of no man, except a robber in the way; for it was our part alone to pray and preach for the encouragement of our countrymen, which I did to my power most cheerfully. Our regiment lay on the side of the hill, almost round about. Every company had, fleeing at the captain's tent door, a brave new colour, stamped with the Scottish arms, and this motto,' For Christ's Crown and Covenant,' in golden letters. Our soldiers were all lusty and full of courage-the most of them stout young ploughmen; great cheerfulness in the face of all. They were clothed in olive or gray plaiden, with bonnets having knots of blue ribbons. The captains, who were barons or country gentlemen, were distinguished by blue ribbons, worn scarf-wise across the body. None of our gentlemen were anything the worse of lying some weeks together in their cloaks and boots on the ground. Our meanest soldiers were always served in wheat bread, and a groat would have got them a lamb-leg, which was a dainty world to the most of them. We were much obliged to the town of Edinburgh for money-Mr Harry Rollock, by his sermons, moved them to shake out their purses. Every one encouraged another. The sight of the nobles and their beloved pastors daily roused their hearts. The good sermons and prayers, morning and evening, under the roof of heaven, to which their drums did call them instead of bells, also Leslie's skill, prudence and fortune, made them as resolute for battle as could be wished. We were feared that emulation among our nobles might have done harm; but such was the wisdom and authority of that old little crooked soldier (General Leslie), that all, with an incredible submission, gave over themselves to be guided by him, as if he had been the great Solyman. Had you lent your ear in the morning, and especially at even, and heard in the tents the sound of some singing psalms, some praying, and some reading the Scriptures, ye would have been refreshed. True, there was swearing and cursing, and bawling in some quarters, whereat we were grieved; but we hoped, if our camp had been a little settled, to have gotten some way for these misorders. For myself I never found myself in better temper than I was all that time, till my heart was again homeward, for I was as a

man who had my leave from the world, and was resolved to die on that service without return."

The great communion above referred to was held in a place called East Nisbet, on the banks of the Whitadder, about six miles eastward from Dunse Law, and a mile southward from Chirnside. The spot is admirably suited for such a meeting. It consists of a level piece of ground, bounded in front by the river, and enclosed on the lack by a semicircle, sloping upwards to a considerable height, and forming an excellent natural gallery. It is just such a place as Whitfield or Spurgeon would have liked for a congregation of 10,000 or 12,000 people. The communion here was held in 1677. The ministers present were Messrs Welsh, Dickson, Rae, Riddell, and Blackadder, the last of whom, as an eye-witness, describes it in the following terms:

Meantime the communion elements had been prepared, and the people in Teviotdale advertised. Mr Welsh and Mr Riddell had reached the place on Saturday. When Mr Blackadder arrived he found a great assembly, and still gathering from all airts. The people from the east brought reports that caused great alarm. It was rumoured that the Earl of Hume, as romp a youth as any in the country, intended to assault the meeting with his men and militia, and that parties of the regulars were coming to assist him. He had profanely threatened to make their horses drink the communion wine, and trample the sacred elements under foot. Most of the gentry there, and even the commonalty, were ill set. Upon this we drew hastily together about seven or eight score of horse, on the Saturday, equipped with such furniture as they had. Pickets of twelve or sixteen men were appointed to reconnoitre, and ride towards the suspected parts. Single horsemen were despatched to greater distances, to view the country and give warning in case of attack. The remainder of the horse were drawn around to be a defence, at such a distance as they might hear sermon, and be ready to act if need be. Every means was taken to compose the multitude from needless alarm, and prevent, in a harmless defensive way, any affront that might be offered to so solemn and sacred a work. Though many of their own accord had provided for their safety, and this was the more necessary when they had to stay three days together, sojourning by the lions' dens and mountains of leopards, yet none had come armed with hostile intentions.

"We entered on the administration of the holy ordinance, committing it and ourselves to the invisible protection of the Lord of hosts, in whose name we were met together. Our trust was in the arm of Jehovah, which was better than weapons of war or the strength of hills. The place where we were convened was every way commodious, and seemed to have been formed on purpose. It was a green and pleasant haugh, fast by the water side (the Whitadder). On either hand there was a spacious brae, in form of a half-round, covered with delightful pasture, and rising with a gentle slope to a goodly height. Above us was the clear blue sky, for it was a sweet and calm Sabbath morning, promising to be indeed one