Jordan); set up single great stones, gave significant names to places; carefully preserved particular things as "the rod that budded," and a portion of the manna, the censers of Korah, Dathan, &c.; appointed periodical observances at particular seasons. And they told the people, and explained to them expressly, what each of these things was for; so that they should be able to tell their posterity when they asked, "What mean ye by these stones?" And, doubtless, this "great stone" for instance, which was set up by Joshua, did, in a measure, answer this end. Tens of thousands of eyes must have looked at it with the perception of its memorial meaning.

Now, can all this be turned to no good account for us? Have we less of this unhappy tendency to forget things which ought to stand conspicuous in our memory, relative to our concerns with God? What kind of memory have we, for example, of the mercies of God? How many of them all do we, in any manner, recollect? How often do we recollect the most remarkable of them?, With what force of impression? Do they come, many of them, like faint shadows, or a half-remembered dream? What a mist, what a night, has settled on our memory! Are we not like travellers who, going forward, have left all the long succession of objects out of sight, sunk below the horizon. Now, anything, any object of sight, any circumstance of place or time, that will assist to recall-may be of valuable service to us.

There may have been seasons, occasions, experiences, eminently adapted to instruct us. They have gone away and what kind of remembrance have we of them? Circumstances, occasions, events, signally fitted to awaken and alarm us, have gone away—what remembrance have we of them? Striking temporary manifestations of the insufficiency and vanity of the world have gone by-what

remembrance have we of them? Illustrations of our entire helplessness, and our dependence on God; intense illuminations of truth; strong gleams of insight into the state of our own spirits and character; very strong manifestations and enforcements of duty; all these have gone by,-what remembrance have we of them?

Now, as to all such things, the plague and the grief is, that we are so apt to let them all go away into forgetfulness. We then, as much as ever the Israelites, need all manner of aids to revive the memory of them. It is plain enough, that the great general thing for this purpose is—a reflective, conscientious, seriousness of spirit. But, the point at present in our view is, that sometimes valuable advantage may be taken of particular circumstances, aiding to recall them. "This stone shall be a witness to us." Everything that can be made a "witness" and remembrancer to us, is worth being made so; we should not despise its assistance. If a man were placed, knowingly and certainly, at the spot where some of the most memorable and awful transactions of all time took place, might he not take advantage of this, to think in a more impressive manner on those great events? And would he not do well? If in sight of Mount Ararat,-on Mount Sinai, Carmel,—in Jerusalem,-on Mount Calvary,-on the shore of the Dead Sea ?

God has put in the constitution of our minds this very useful law, that one thing helps to bring other things more forcibly to our thoughts, when there is any kind of relation. Let us look at a familiar exemplification or two. It may be, that some person here has, at some time, experienced a remarkable preservation or deliverance; perhaps in a situation of extreme peril, within, as we say, a hair's breadth of a frightful injury, or death. Now, we would say to that person, "If you ever pass by that place, or see

the object which was so near being destructive, or anything that contributed to save you, let it be " a witness" to you. Fix on it, to excite your recollections of God's providential goodness: the dart of death was actually levelled,—God put a shield between. Or, suppose the apartment, or the bed where an oppressive sickness had brought its victim just to the gate of death. Or, suppose a person to have been narrowly saved from falling into some great sin,—and there was a happy intervention; any place, or object, seen or heard of, which has any near relation to that peril, or which averted it, should have the effect intended by the stone of Joshua. Suppose any other remarkable instance and token of the divine goodness. It will sometimes happen that there remains to be seen, perhaps, some particular object, some special circumstance connected with that experience,-let it be a remembrancer.

There have been, as we said, important lessons of instruction, given, perhaps, at an opportune and critical moment, adapted to have an invaluable influence through all subsequent life. Here, again, there may be, remaining to be seen, some particular thing or other which may recall those lessons to memory-a book-a letter-a house-the grave of the instructor. Let the attention fix on that thing-look at it and go back in thought. It may thus be made the occasional means to awake a train of grateful recollections; if the instruction was efficacious; or of humiliating penitential reflections-if it was in vain. "That instruction-that warning-oh, what a blessed thing, if I had had the conscience to attend to it!"

Perhaps there have been times when, under peculiar and strong impressions, we have made solemn resolutions and vows, as in the presence God. Now, there may be some monument of such solemn exercises and determinations; something more plain to sight than the mere record of

them in memory. There is at least some place—it may be some solitary spot, to which the person could go, and say, "Here it was that I made such a solemn resolution;" or there may be some written lines existing-if faded, even that may recall the past more forcibly; or some significant marks of memorandum not intelligible to any other eyes. One has known persons looking intently on a tree or shrub, planted on such an occasion. What a depth and emphasis of admonition there may be in such things to the conscious individual! It is like a voice speaking after him from a great distance, or a voice from the dead.

But, again, in the life of a mortal there have been iniquities -violations of conscience-transgressions against the Almighty. And think what a strange facility there is of sinking even these in forgetfulness!—as if mere time were a scape-goat!-as if we had but to forget them! But they ought to come often into grievous remembrance, even though believed to be pardoned;-but if not pardoned? In many instances there exist particular mementoes of past transgressions. Some men have even in their possession something they have gained by a sin. Some may see, in particular places, the marks of the mischief they have done by their iniquities, or by some one iniquity-some lasting afflictive consequence-some injured individual. A sinner may find himself walking along the very path by which once, long since, he went to a resort of iniquity, or came from it; he passes by the old tree, or gate, or brook, or bridge. A man may happen to meet, now sinking in age, a person who once remonstrated against his sinful ways; or may pass by the grave of one who was once an associate in evil. Let him stand by it, and reflect! Or he may enter once again an apartment to which he can recollect to have retired, loaded with the reproaches of his conscience. Or, not to suppose heinous sins, there may be presented to a man

various things which will remind him of a careless, irreligious season of his life; a Bible that he cared not to read; articles used for mere vain amusement and waste of time. Now, such monumental witnesses should suggest to a man to think of guilt, repentance, and pardon. He might fix his eyes on those objects while on his bended knees.

There are men in whose memories are reposited times and places when and where they trembled under "the terrors of the Lord." They can recollect when and where they were almost afraid to enter under a roof lest it should fall; to cross a stream lest it should suddenly rise and carry them away. If those "terrors" were banished only by returning carelessness and hardness, it were well if the sight of places and objects could so touch the conscience as to recall them, "Was it all absurd ?—had I not reason? -what then, now?" If, through Divine mercy, those terrors were rendered efficacious, the grateful redeemed sinner may avail himself of these memorials of them, to become still more grateful. "This is the place;—that is the same time-piece, telling the same nightly hours that were then so dark and dismal to me." If there have been particular occasions which have excited in us a special and exceeding horror of particular sins, it were well for the attention to be sometimes arrested by any object strongly reminding us of those occasions, and tending to revive that impression, thus bringing a reinforcement to our present dread of those sins.

We need not go on to more particulars of illustration. These have been specified only as a few exemplifications of the possible advantage of doing what Joshua meant the Israelites should do. It is wise to seize upon all means of turning the past into lessons of solemn admonition; it is, as it were, bringing it back it to be present, that we may have it over again. With the instructing, sanctifying