Gratitude was undoubtedly a principal occasion of this urgency. She had received through their instrumentality the best gift of Heaven. The eyes of her understanding had been enlightened--the affections of her heart had been excited and sanctified to a noble purpose. They had proclaimed to her with surprising effect, "Jesus and the resurrection;" and, although she had been a devout proselyte of the Jewish religion, she would not, humanly speaking but for them, have become acquainted with the Christian, of which the former was only a pre-figurative shadow. They had unlocked the door of wisdom, and put her in possession of the ample treasures of truth; they had taught her the evil of sin, and shown her "the Lord our righteousness;" they had dispersed her doubts, dispelled her fears, removed her darkness, satisfied her inquiries, and conducted her to "the light of the world," new risen upon benighted nations, and whose blessed radiance was already diffused in every direction. Lydia was anxious to repay these benefits, or rather to testify her overwhelming sense of their immensity. What could she do but invite them home? They were "strangers," amongst senseless idolaters and persecuting foes, and she "took them in," conscious of having incurred an obligation which she could but imperfectly discharge. And have we cherished similar sentiments? Have we revered and ministered to the servants of our Lord? Have we supplied their necessities--cherished their persons--guarded their reputation? Have we thus "rendered honour to whom honour is due"--esteeming them very highly in love for their work's sake--and having made "partakers of their spiritual things," considered it our "duty to minister unto them in carnal things?" Respect for the truth itself ought to generate a suitable predilection for such as faithfully dispense it. We should value the "earthen vessels" for the sake of "the heavenly treasure" they contain. If in any instances the professed ministers of the Gospel act inconsistently with their character, a mind like that of Lydia, would not become dissatisfied with the truth itself, nor hastily utter extravagant censure. We have known persons take an apparent pleasure in detailing the faults of persons eminent either for character, or for official situation. They have betrayed, by their triumphant air, significant inuendoes, or needless circumstantiality, a secret and criminal gratification, whilst loudly protesting their sorrow. But a sincere piety, which sympathises with all the adversities and prosperities of the Christian cause, and knows the general and especially the personal consequences of such deplorable inconsistencies, will commiserate, and weep, and pray.