sudden or very observable. It may even be doubted, whether the subject of this important change is always aware of the time or manner in which the fact took place, since the external manifestations of it are but little distinguishable from the habits of previous life and manners. Internal evidence may be perfectly satisfactory after this change, and may gather strength by time and experience, yet may be so indecisive at the moment, as hardly to admit of direct inferences or deductions. Regeneration is most evident in those who have passed their early life in opposition to all religion. In proportion to the vehemence of their opposition to the opportunities they have had of displaying their enmity, and to the number of persons who may have been injured, perhaps ruined, by the public propagation of their erroneous principles and iniquitous practices, is the attention which is attracted by a moral revolution in their sentiments and conduct. It is well known that Voltaire, for instance, had done all that was possible for wit, and sneer, and malevolent misrepresentation to do, towards the entire eradication of Christinity: nothing less would content him. It was the joy of his heart, the business of his life, the study of his whole mind, to defame the Sacred Scriptures, the Gospels especially; and so great was his antipathy to the divine Author and Finisher of our Faith, that (Charity would hope, even of Voltaire, that those are mistaken who thus interpret it) the private mark placed at the corner of his letters, to remind his confidential friends of their duty, was E. L'I. Ecrasez l'Infame; "Crush the wretch; meaning, by the wretch, the Saviour of the world! What was the state of mind of the dying Voltaire, his disciples have diligently concealed from the public. But if he had been so changed some years before his death, as to vindicate that faith which he formerly vilified, what a striking instance of all-vanquishing grace would he have been! The divine sovereignty did not see fit to manifest itself in that particular instance. Nevertheless, a chief disciple of that Atheist, no less bitter than his master against the truth, - no less hardened in his guilt, -no less sarcastic in his manner, no less determined as an enemy to Christ and his cross, and as a worshipper of the goddess Reason, almighty Reason! lately stood forth as "a brand plucked from the burning;" and, after having proclaimed the gospel to numerous auditories, has died a penitent and a believer. Such of your readers as have paid attention to French literature, know that there was a society of eminent men of letters, who held regular meetings, in order to canvass the best mode of directing their attacks against Christianity. Diderot was the patriarch of these Atheists. D'Alembert, Duclos, Condorcet, and many others, were members of this society. But none was more conspicuous than M. de la Harpe. He was the favourite of Vol taire; repeatedly visited him, and resided with him at Ferney; acted on his theatre, dedicated his first play to him; and, in return, Voltaire revised his productions, recommended him to official patronage, secured a party in his favour, and, in short, exerted all his interest to render him popular. De la Harpe, treading in the footsteps of his master, promoted the French Revolution to his utmost. The ever-shifting governors of France, during many a turbulent scene, were sometimes friendly, sometimes inimical, to literature and literati. By one of these temporary presidencies M. de la Harpe was arrested, and shut up in the Luxembourg. The greater number of those with whom he had been particularly connected, had already suffered on the scaffold; and the same fate appeared to be reserved for him. At the moment when he was consigned to a prison, the opinions of those modern philosophers with whom he had associated, were not effaced from his mind; and, though he abominated their effects, the principles themselves had not altogether lost their influence. In this comfortless situation M. de la Harpe had the happiness of finding a fellow-prisoner whose piety afforded him the means of consolation, and by whom it was recommended to employ himself in studying the Psalms of David, which M. de la Harpe had never looked into but as containing some poetical beautics; and even of these he did not retain the least remembrance. His new friend, however, fearing lest he might alarm the philosopher by such a proposition, urged this employment rather as the means of amusing his anxious mind; and, therefore, requested him to write a mere literary commentary on these sublime productions. M. de la Harpe, charmed with an occupation which was so comformable to his taste and inclinations, entered at once upon the work. At the very commencement of it, he was convinced that the Psalms contained poetical beauties of a superior character; and, as he proceeded, this opinion was proportionably heightened. The perusal of other pious works strengthened the growing disposition; and he, at length, discovered the real source of those consolations, and that help to which the wretched never apply in vain. This commentary, which was at first undertaken with the warmth of gratitude, and continued with the zeal of piety, became the preliminary discourse of the Translation of the Psalster, the first work in which the author announced his conversion. - This conversion was attended with all the marks of a sincere conviction. The manuscript notes of M. de la Harpe afford an additional proof of it. "I was in prison," says he, "all alone, in a small chamber, and in a state of profound sorrow; but many days did not pass before I found that the study of the Psalms and the Gospels, had produced a strong, though gradual, effect in my mind. I was already numbered among the faithfal. beheld a new light, but it alarmed and terrified me, by dis covering the abyss, -an abyss of forty years of error. I beheld all the evil, but could not discern the remedy. There was no one to afford me aid. On one hand, my life appeared before me, represented to me by a light which beamed from the torch of celestial truth. On the other, I looked on death, that death which I daily expected, and as it was then inflicted. The priest no longer appeared on the scaffold to console the dying victim: he ascended it rather to die himself there. Oppressed by these desolating ideas, my heart sunk within me; and addressing myself in a smothered voice to the God whom I had scarcely known, What ought I to do? said I, what will be my lot? Upon the table lay Thomas à Kempis. I had been already assured of the excellence of his work, of the comfort I should derive from it, and of the power it possessed to sooth my desponding thoughts. I, therefore, opened the book, as accident directed, and my eyes fell at once upon these words, Behold, I am here, my son; I come to you because you have called upon me. I read no more. The instantaneous impression which I experienced is beyond all expression; and I am as unable to describe as to forget it. I fell with my face on the earth, and bathed in tears; while my words and my cries were but half uttered from the violence of my sobbings. At the same time, I found my heart expanding and relieved; but, at the very same moment, as if it were ready to split. Indeed, I remember very little of this situation, but that I wept long, and that beyond all comparison; my heart never experienced such violent and delicious emotions, and that these words, Behold I am here, my son, did not cease to resound, as it were, through my soul, and to arouse all the faculties of it." When M. de la Harpe was liberated from prison, his sole occupation was to support the cause which he had so fervently embraced. His Lecons de Littérature had been long expected. The author, however, resolved to make this work subservient to the interests of religion and the social principle: a work which originally had no other object than to teach the rudiments of literature and of taste. Great as the difficulties were which opposed themselves to such a design, M. de la Harpe was determined to pursue it; and, in spite of the various obstacles he encountered, and the persecutions he suffered, he finally succeeded in the execution of it. M. de la Harpe considered it as a duty to proclaim in public those truths which he had formerly been so unfortunate to oppose; and it was with this view that he resumed the chair of the Lyceum. The effect produced by him at the first sitting will never be forgotten. The orator, in a speech full of energy and pathos, gave a picture of the national manners, pointed out their causes, and inspired the crowded audience with those sentiments of indignation and regret which he himself felt. The noble and pathetic delivery of M. de la Harpe gave great weight to the principles which he maintained; and it was re marked with truth, that his eloquence became more perfect when it was altogether consecrated to the support of such a cause. It was to be expected that his zeal would attract, as in effect it afterwards did, the spirit of persecution; and he was twice proscribed. An order was issued to get possession of him alive or dead; but he continued to pursue his labours with undisturbed tranquillity. His "Defence of Religion" then occupied his mind. Without consulting the authors who had treated the same subject, he confined himself to the meditation of the sacred writings, and drew from that only source the arguments which he opposed to the philosophers. He possessed an advantage unknown to his predecessors. Connected as he had long been with the infidel writers, he was well acquainted with the strong and the weak parts of their doctrine; and, to use his own expression, he had passed almost the whole of his life in the camp of the enemy. All the activity of his mind was exerted in the sacred cause to which he had devoted himself; nor did the continual dangers to which he was exposed interrupt the tranquillity of his mind. He has often said that this period of proscription was the happiest of his life. His intimate friends had frequently seen him, when he thought himself unobserved by them, prostrate on the earth, as it were, before God, and displaying signs of the most lively and sincere repentance. His health, however, was materially affected by his confinement; and, after his return to public notice, he gradually sunk under a complication of disorders. He preserved his presence of mind to the last; and when his enfeebled eyes could not bear the light from amidst the curtains which were drawn around him, from the gloom of this anticipated tomb, he continued to converse with his friends on the comforts he experienced from religion, on the errors of his life, and on the mercy of his God. He died Feb. 11, 1803, aged 64*. In contemplating a character like that of De la Harpe, we must make considerable allowances for the circumstances in which it is placed. The darkness of popery, as to spiritual things, is surely very unfavourable to a searcher after truth; and, when no other helps are within reach but such as that communion affords, Providence may vouchsafe to make use of such, however inferior they may be in their nature. But it will not escape the observation, that M. de la Harpe had recourse to the Scriptures as soon as possible, and confined himself to the meditation of these; which is certainly one favourable token of change of heart and mind. Another proof that his conversion was genuine, is to be inferred from his endeavours to recover those who were lost. The man who, notwithstanding two proscriptions, dares to profess his belief in God, and in Christ, full in the face of an execrable kind of death, deserves credit for his professions, and applause for *The above particulars are taken from No. IX. of the Literary Panorama; a work of great merit, and encreasing reputation. his zeal. The rapidity of the change in him is remarkable. It Fars some analogy to that of the well-known Col. Gardiner. Both of these converts describe the first effect of their new view of things as a beam of heavenly light bursting on their astonished sight; and in the case of M. de la Harpe, the instantaneous impression derived from " a word in season," may fairly be produced as parallel to those arrows of conviction derived from the sacred word, which sometimes it pleases God to fasten in the consciences of sinners in a moment. That prostration and tears should accompany such an incident, will be thought extremely natural by all who have experienced that deep self-abasement which is one part of real conversion. Sobbings, cries, "groanings that cannot be uttered," may well be supposed to attend The renovation of a heart so uncommonly depraved as this:the enormity of past guilt, displayed in full view, cannot be etherwise than terrific to one who beholds the severity of the divinę justice, but is not yet acquainted with the placidity of the divine mercy. Lastly, Let the conversion of the most obdurate sinner never be despaired of; if ordinary means are ineffectual, divine grace ean employ extraordinary occurrences. He who will not hear in a chapel, shall be obliged to hear in a prison; he who has treated salvation as despicable, when at liberty, shall be taught the value of it under bonds, as Manasseh was; and be induced te long for spiritual deliverance much more ardently than even for temporal. As no set of men can do (and have done) so much harm to the unwary as men of letters, so those among them, who feel the importance of the gospel, ought to promote it with all their might, that they may counteract, as far as possible, the miseries which" philosophy and literature, falsely so called," have brought on mankind, even to the ruin of thousands. Such was the conviction of M. de la Harpe; and on this conviction he acted, till Providence put a period to his life and labours. THE ANGEL JEHOVAII. S. R. THE Old Testament Scriptures, like those of the New, confain many glorious displays of the character and work of the Lord Jesus Christ. It might have been said, in the days of Abraham and Moses, as truly as in the days of Paul, "That Christ is all and in all;" for the Scriptures foreseeing that God would justify the Heathen through faith, preached before the gospel unto Abraham. He saw the day of Christ, and was glad. Moses, when in Pharaoh's court, knew him; for he esteemed the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt. The Israelites, wheu in the wilderness, were acquainted with his |