shock, which came suddenly but irresistibly upon them. One of their companions was called to his death bed, in consequence of his habits; and after having, for several days, raved in delirium, or sunk in unconscious stupor, he revived, as is frequently the case, just before he died, and was allowed a few hours of renewed intellectual existence.

This returning health of mind was hailed by his parents, as indicative of the restoration of health of body. But he told them he knew that he had but a short time left him upon earth, and that he must make use of the little that remained, in endeavouring to warn others of the rock, towards which he was irresistibly driving. He sent for four or five of his associates, and Elverton was one of the number. The scene which they witnessed at his bed side made a most fearful impression. The young men would before have acknowledged, in words, the almost certain consequences of their vice, but here they saw them, in reality, embodied in such a form that their whole force could be appreciated. The emaciated cheek and hollow eye of their favorite companion,his broken and sepulchral voice,-his dying bed and gloomy prospects for eternity;—a father pacing the room with compressed lip, contracted brow, and a countenance shewing that there was no trifling emotion within;—a mother turning away in the violence of her agony, from the son she loved;- -a group of little ones around, in amazen ent and terror, though scarcely old enough to understand the cause. The dying man urged his former associates, for some time, with the greatest earnestness, to abandon the pleasures they had chosen, "for," said he, "they will inevitably bring you where I am." "But I know not," continued he, "why I should distress you now; wretchedness will come upon you soon enough, and I have no hope that you will avert it, by leaving the paths you are pursuing. I have tried resolutions, and I know what they are, and firmly believe, that, were a miraculous power once more to raise me from this state, and to restore me again to life and hope, I should soon return to the cup, and to the miserable death bed to which it has brought me.' As he spoke this, his whole frame was

agitated by the violence of his emotion. His voice and his nerves were strong, but not with a natural energy; his eye glistened, but it seemed to be with no mortal expression. His companions could endure the sight no longer, they left his bedside, and he soon went down to the grave in sorrow.

For some time it really seemed that the voice of the dying man had not been raised in vain. Elverton was almost crazed by the shock it had given to his delicate sensibilities and the naturally warm feelings of his heart, and for a few weeks they all appeared to feel the impression, and to be strong in the promises of reformation. But their dying companion did indeed know too well the value of such resolutions. In about a month one returned to his vomit and his wallowing, another and another followed and began to drive more furiously than ever on the fatal road. In a short time Elverton alone remained, and he was but a wreck. The propensity had in his case been more nearly eradicated, but its roots had been so deep and strong, that the fruitful soil was torn up too, and his feelings and faculties seemed to have withered in the violence of the operation. "It is indeed," said his father, "a sad alternative that is offered my boy. I believe he is saved from being dashed upon the rock, but he is dropping to pieces on

the saud."

He began, however, slowly to recover, and as his health and spirits returned, he did not yield himself to the temptations which they brought with them. His friends were slow to place confidence in these pleasing appearances, but after a year of successful probation had elapsed, and he had regularly received his degree at college, and had entered with favorable prospects upon the study of his profession, their hopes began again to revive. Elverton persevered in the relinquishment of his old companions and pleasures, and his mind was strengthening itself and his habits were becoming firm, and the father and mother, who were now beginning to decline in years, could not refrain from again leaning upon their son.

The life which Elverton was thus leading was a con

stant and severe reproof to his former associates. In vain did they endeavor to silence the voice of conscience while they had before them such an example as his; and one evening as they were sitting together, indulging their common and habitual sin, they determined, in the malice of their hearts, to make an effort to bring back again to them their reformed companion. The plan was laid, and a time appointed for its execu tion. [To be concluded in our next.]

MR. EDITOR,

[For the Monitor.]

THE extract on "Geology," in the Monitor for February last, brought to recollection the following article in Rev. Doctor Harris's Minor Encyclopedia,

ON CORALS AND CORALLINES.

Myriads of the coralline tribes cover the bottom of the mighty deep, and from their mazy groves of most curious ramifications with infinitely fine expressions of skill and elegance of taste.

Far as the sun's influence can penetrate the ocean, there are great varieties of vegetables. Beyond the prospect opened by the lowest ebb, the rocks are clothed with these; and they often extend many hundred yards into the main, more or less, in proportion to the depth of the water. But within a few miles of the rocky shores, the region of vegetation ends; another scene of things seems to take place; and life is found pervading every substance. In those submarine fields, where all animating principles are awake in full energy, no productions merely vegetable can long find a place they would soon be covered over with incrustations formed by the innumerable orders of living creatures which there spread their habitations.

Among all the varieties of substances dredged up from forty and fifty fathoms of water, no organized forms are discoverable, void of animation; but they are thoroughly replenished with productions of most elegant workmanship, which breathe life at every pore.

It can be no less astonishing than pleasant to survey the energies that are awake, working in the marvellous retirements of life, which fill the depths of the ocean with structures of endless variety and beauty; and to observe such attention paid to their preservation, such means of defence given them against external injuries, such capacities bestowed on them of obtaining food and nourishment, that they live in the immoveable abodes in vigour, health, and plenty, until old age comes on, and the springs of life decay; when new generations of their offspring arise around them, and they become inclosed forever in their marble tombs.

The contemplation of these wonderful orders of life, while it raises in the soul the most delicate sensations, cannot fail to elevate our thoughts in admiration of that Universal Operator who formed all things. His diffusive energy pervades and animates the whole creation. The certainty of his omnipotence, the exhibitions of his wisdom, and the tokens of his goodness, are to a pious mind, the most cheering of all reflections. One who feels these impressions, sees HIM in every thing, and cannot admire the smallest and most remote of his works, without thinking of HIM.

The ideas of creative wisdom, disclosing its marvellous energies in these unseen regions of the deep, so far removed from the human eye, leaves such impressions of that universal influence, so apparently displayed, yet felt so incomprehensibly, as fills us with wonder and admiration. Indeed the whole economy of nature in the submarine regions opens a boundless scene of wonders that remain to be explored, and exhibits, in the most striking manner, the all-pervading influence and care of the great Creator, of whose wisdom not only is the earth full, but also the wide and deep sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great animals.

[For the Monitor.]

INFLUENCE OF MAHOMETANISM.

HAD the Mahometan religion disseminated the poison of its principles among pagans only, there would be less to deplore in its ravages; but it has not been limited to pagans. It has cast a thicker gloom over countries where Christianity once flourished, and made that land where the light of the Gospel first shone, like the valley of death. In the vast empire, through which the Arabian impostor has spread the terror of his arms, is included the land of the prophets, where Christ and his apostles laboured and suffered. There the absurd doctrines of the Koran have supplanted a revelation from God, and converted the churches, which were consecrated to his worship, into Mahometan mosques, which no Christian dares enter on pain of death. It has profaned every thing that was sacred, and made these, once the finest portions of our globe, like the sands of Arabia. The desolating tide has swept away the labours of apostles and succeeding disciples of Christ, till scarcely a vestige of their holy religion remains.

Christian philanthropy has surveyed this vast empire of darkness, and has commiserated the sufferings of more than ninety millions of the human family, loaded with the chains of despotism; but while it has been moved with compassion for the slaves of this execrable delusion, it has shrunk back from any attempt to extend to them the blessings of Christianity.

It has looked towards the pilgrim as he wandered to the shrine of his prophet, and would have directed him to the cross of Calvary; but for ages it has despaired of success in this benevolent work. One generation after another has sunk into oblivion without the knowledge of the Saviour; and, till lately, it was supposed that christian benevolence could not break the Mahometan powers, or send the Gospel to those whom it had enslaved. But such an opinion is now proved to be false. That power is already weakened; the benevolent work, which shall repair the ruins of the wide-spreading_deselation, has commenced, and it will go on till all those