The Wesleyan Methodist Association magazine

This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project
to make the world's books discoverable online.

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject
to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books
are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover.

Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the
publisher to a library and finally to you.

Usage guidelines

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.

We also ask that you:

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for
personal, non-commercial purposes.

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.

+ Maintain attribution The Google "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it.

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe.

About Google Book Search

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web

at|http : //books . google . com/

f V,

p.

c^' liiLf^it e

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

Digitized byVjOOQlC

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Digitized by VjOOQIC

THE

WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE,

1857.

The right of private judgment in the reading of the Sacred Volume,

VOLUME THE TWENTIETH.

LONDON: %^H

MATTHEW BAXTER, ASSOCIATION BOOK ROOM,
5, HORSESHOE COURT, LUDQATE HILL;

Digitized by VjOOQIC

T. C. JOHNS, PBINTEB,
WINE OFFICB COURT, FLEET STREET.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

THE

WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

M AG A Z I N E.

JANUARY, 1857.

SHADOWS OF THE PAST, DAWNINGS OF THE FUTURE.

No, I.

The past year haa been eminently eventful. It da^ed upon one
of the most bloody struggles in which nation ever was engaged,
between the Western Powers on the one hand, and the Military
Despotism of Russia on the other. After desperate efforts on either
side, in which the sea was crowded with Fleets and the land with
troops ; after the most bloody havoc in the Crimea, and a fearful drain
on all the resources of the Empire of the Autocrat, Peace, so much
desired by all the true friends of humanity was at length restored.
But the ravages of War were not confined to- one side in this dire con-
flict. The Victors suffered more in this than the vanquished in other
struggles. Of Three hundred thousand troops sent out by France
during the War, the number brought again to their native land, was
less than Two hundred and thirty thousand ; while out of One hun-
dred thousand British sdldiers who, performed such prodiges of valour
at Alma, at Balaclava, at Inkerman — in the Trenches, and on the
heights of Sebastopol, not more than Seventy thousand were seen
under arms at the close of the War. And it is melancholy to re-
flect, that all this horrible sacrifice of life and of property might
have been averted if that haughty individual, who swayed the destinies
of Russia, at the origin of the unhappy complication in Eastern
affairs, had evinced, even the slightest respect for human Rights and
the Independence of Nations. War, indeed, is a blind business,
whether considered in the causes in which it originates, or the con-^
sequences which it involves. The vanity of a Minister of State—
the cupidity of a Monarch — the indiscretion of a General in the
Army — the fiery temper of a Captain in the Navy, or the ridiculous
officiousness of some impersonation of insignificance in the Consular
service, often involves the sacrifice of lives by thousands, and of
treasure by millions — not to rbention the creation of national anti-
pathies— the interruption of commercial pursuits — ^the destruction of
property, and the retardation of nations in their march of Improvement*
And for what beneficial results have such evils been endured in the
present instance ? Has Hungarian Independence, as some sanguinely
anticipated, been revived in 1856 under fairer auspices than in 1848 ?
Has Poland recovered her liberties, and escaped fi'om the talons of th.o
two great eagles of the North ? Has Italy been relieved of the iron
hoof of Austrian Despotism, or France reaped the fruits of her last
great struggle against the absolute sway of her " Citizen King " in
the enlarged freedom of her people ? Alas ! No. The only objecta

Digitized by VjOOQIC

2 Shadows of the Past,

that have been gained, are the establishment of the political supre-
macy of the West, and the presei^vation of Turkey as a separate
State in the European family of Nations : objects of great value, it
is granted, but gained at an immense expense to the cause of Civili-
zation in the scene of this deadly strife, by the loss of nearly all
the monuments of human progress reared by the intelligence and
enterprise of both the State and people, during the last fifty years,
in one of the fairest provinces of the llussian Empire.

What a lesson of instruction to the crowned Hcads^ and the
ministers of State in every country of Europe, and of the World !
But recent events, supply too much ground for the belief that this
i^arfol lesson has, for the most part, been wasted on the individuals on
whom it might have been expected to make the most salutary impres--
rfons. Scarcely had Peace been restored in our Hemisphere before
Factions at home and abroad, sought to raise the Demon of War in
the New World. While the great grave of armies was scarcely closed
in the Crimea ; in the same year in which Cossacks of the Don —
Frenchmen from the Seine and the Garonne — Britons from the lliames,
and the Tweed, and Celts from the Shannon, the Boyne, and the Lif-
fey, were laid as mouldering carcases in Sebastopol and its environs to
the number of hundreds of thousands ; while the world saw the Tax-
gatherer pouring into the Coffers of War, sums far exceeding the
Revenues of mightiest Monarchies, there were found on either side
of the Atlantic, madmen, who laboured hard to strike the spark
which should enkindle a fatricidal war between our own country and
the United States of America. And for what purpose ? Simply to
determine whether the Bay Islands belong to the Republic of Hon-
duras, or to Great Britain, — whether Great Britain has a right to pro-
tect the King of Mosquita, the semi-barbarous chieftain, who rules
over a few tribes of naked Indians, between the frontiers of Honduras
and of Costa Rica, and whether in the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty there
were reserved to this country any territorial rights on the Continent
of America. Happily, after the exchanging of a few high sounding
words of vanity, better counsels prevailed, and war was averted. The
two great branches of the Anglo-Saxon family were saved from a con-
flict pregnant with the most awful results to themselves and the human
race in general, for their mercantile connections with foreign nation*
must have extended the conflict over the larger portion of the civilized
world. The struggle in the East would have been repeated on a larger
scale in the far West. The Destroying Angel would have appeared
with' tenfold power. The consequences to the American Republic had
been wide-spread desolation along the whole sea-board of the States,
and to England, commercial distress involving, in the first instance,
the ruin of merchant princes in Liverpool, and of Cotton lords in
Manchester, but extending from these great centres in wider circles
ta the remotest towns and hamlets of the kingdom, and in wider cir-
cles still, to the remotest provinces of the Empire. It is matter then
of devout gratitude to Almighty God that Peace has been preserved
between Great Britain and the United States of America, two
countries, which in a state of War would effect vastly greater

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Dawnings of the Future, 3

desdiaiion than any other. Thank God! our friendly relatldnis inth
oar brethren on the other side of the Atlantic have iiot b^eti dis-
tnrbed, their cities have not been burnt, or their Tillages pillaged^
or their women yiolated, on anj such peurile ground as the dismissal
of an incompetent diplomatist, or the questioning of our right to ft
ridiculous Protectorate. The good sense, if not the fraternal feelings^
of the bulk of the people, oh both sides, haye saved ui9 from subh a
spectacle.

During the past year, we have witnessed an audacious attempt Oii
the part of the Slaveholders of America, in the case of Kansas, to stamp
the image and superscription of Slavery on the Republic for ever j
to put ruffianism in the place of law, — to Supersede every appeal
to equity in matters of Government, by setting up the law of might
against right. It augurs ill for the " Model Republic," that the bbwid
Knife and the Revolver have been substituted by numbers of desperatei
men for the voice of Conscience and the Law of God. The philaii*
thropist while pleased to witness an increased dispositioo on the pturt
of the North to prevent the extension of Slavery, will regret that the
Free-State party should have been so ready to adopt the same means,
and to send forth emigrants armed with the bludgeon and the rifle in
the filibustering style of these unprincipled marauders. It was to at-
tempt to cast out Satan by diabolical means : it was to supply ruffian-
ism with the only pretext it wanted for the exercise of unlimited bru-
tality. But all consideration of the means apart, there can be no doubt,
from recent American intelligence, that this question of Siavery-ext^ni
sion involves the very existence of the Republic, a matter which " ought
not to be left to the chance results of bloody skirmishes on the ex-
treme confines of its territory, where victory, as is ever the case in con-
flicts of brute force, depends greatly upon accident, and is most likely
\o turn on the side of those distinguished by the most unscrupulous
ferocity.*' The policy of a nation on matters of such grave impor-
tance ought to be determined by the deliberate judgment of the great
body of the people. We have, no doubt, that in the long run, this
momentous question will be decided by the people. And there is
enough of intelligence and moral principle in the Free- States to effect
such a solution as will be in harmony with the rights of manhood and
the dictates of the Law of God. The North is becoming awake to the
incouGdstency of three and twenty millions of white men keeping three
millions of blacks in bonds, as if liberty were the exclusive right
of a particular complexion ; — awake especially, to the danger to which
the best interests of the commonwealth are exposed from the organ-
ized and systematic efforts of the Slaveholders of the South to corrupt
the integrity of Statesmen at home — and to kindle the fires of discord
in neighbotfiring States with no other motive than the extension of their
accursed system, which year by year becomes more corrupt — mOre and
more intolerable, illustrating in the political relations of the Slave and
Free States of the New world, before the eye of civilised man every-
where, that revolting practice of the ancients — the chaining of the
putrifying remains of the dead to the body of the living. On this point,
American Statesmen have made some most startling announcements.
Speakii^ of the South, one of them says ; — " they have no literature, no

B 2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

4; , Shadowk of the Past,

science, little or no commerce, little or no mechanical industry, and even
their agricultural mduatry is falling off." Nor is there much of deprecia-
tion in this statement. It is largely borne out by well known facts.
In the United States, J\vo thousand patents were taken out last
year ; — Of these, only One hundred and twenty-Jive were invented by
men living in the Southern States. But their political influence has
been, out of all proportion, to their numbers, their wealth, and their
intelligence. The Slave- owners have been variously estimated at from
thirty thousand to a hundred thousand, and yet they have managed
by various acts — during the brief period that the Republic has existed,
to secure the election of 11 Presidents out of 16; 17 out of 28 Judges
of the Supreme Court j 14 out of 19 Attorney Generals : 61 out of
77 Presidents of the Senate ; 21 out of 33 Speakers of the House ;
and 80 out of 134 Ministers to Foreign Courts. After a severe strug--
gle between liberty and intolerance, during the present year, they have
succeeded in the election of Buchanan as the President of the
Republic* This, was thought at first, by the friends of liberty on
both sides of the water, to be a severe blow to sound principles. It may
turn out otherwise. Buchanan is a man of intelligence, and although
he has been regarded hitherto as being of Pro-slavery sentiments, we
cannot bring ourselves to think, that such an astute individual will,
in the present crisis, listen to a mere faction of ruffians and steer the
vessel of State as they wish, in the face of intelligent and enterprising
millions, who put in their emphatic protest against the extension of
slavery, by the addition of a single Slave State to the Union, or the
acquirement of a single inch of territory to be blasted and withered
beneath the shade of this dark Upas of social despotism, which has
been the scandal of the cause of freedom, from the moment of the
declaration of American Independence to this hour. "VVe are greatly
mistaken if the event do not show the Pro-slavery Candidate to have
been ruled by the Anti-slavery extension views of the masses of the
American public, in the New England States, and on the banks of the
Ohio and the Illinois.

While American philanthropists have been girding up their loins
for a mighty struggle with the supporters of Negro Slavery in the
States, the friends of liberty in this country have been evincing
their antipathy to Ecclesiastical Absolutism. The men who carried
"Reform of the Parliamentary Representation," and "Repeal of
the- Corn Laws," begin to feel that the overthrow of Ecclesiastical
Absolutism is the great question on the solution of which, all the
friends of liberty must concentrate their energies. Men of every
class begin to feel that the days of this form of Absolutism are num-
bered. Even on the Continent, philosophers bcigin to note the signs
of the times, in their aspect towards this question. Chevalier Bunsen,
in a pamphlet recently published, says, — " Of the two great signs of
the times, with observing which, we began our inquiry — the spirit of
free inquiry, and that of priestly hierarchy,— one is rising^ the other
declining. The spirit of association and its freedom, is the genius of
dawning day. The hierarchy and its tyranny, is the expiring star of
departing night. It is not Hesperus which shines in the twilight of
heaven, but the morning star. Full seven years back, the hierarchy,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Dawninffs of the Future. S

drlveu bj a feeling of approacbing dissolution, connected itself with the
associative spirit, as long before, it had done with Absolutism. It sought
confirmation where it saw power. But it was hidden from its self-seek-
ing eye, that it was decreed that from that power it should meet its
death. Freedom of course is the vital breath of manhood, and the cradle
of true individuality; and this freedom of all other freedom, the mother
of hierarchy, in the main can never tolerate. He who labours for
oppression of conscience and slavery of soul, — ^yes, he who does not
with all truth and power, demand freedom of conscience and of spirit
in matters of faith, labours for Jesuitism, and so far as in him is,
for the destruction and ruin of his own religious community and
private home. If he be a Protestant, then he deserves double abhor-
rence or pity ; but he, who within the sphere allotted him, be it high
or low, does not truly labour for right and freedom, labours for the over-
throw of the energy of God's kingdom to the ends of the earth. Surely,
then, a great war£%re lies before us, a holy war, and none with
impunity can approach it with unholy hands ; but eternally remains
the enmity between compulsion and freedom of conscience, and
victoriously hovers over the battle field, one who waves a banner, on
which is wiitten in letters of fire, ^ In this sign thou shalt conquer.'
Yes, the good shall conquer in the world's history, for it has already
conquered for mankind, eighteen hundred years ago, in Jesus Christ."
Such is the judgment of the enlightened German, and his words are
full of comfort to the friends of liberty among the free Churches in
Christendom, but fraught with terror and confusion to the advocates
of Absolutism, whether in the Wesleyan Conference, the Anglican
Establishment, or the Romish Church. Such are the developments
of the Age, that Ecclesistical Absolutism is now found to be in direct con-
flict with the very genius of Society. To this aspect of things, the
words of our Lord admit of striking application. No man putteth
a piece of new cloth into an old garment, for that which is put in to
^11 up, tahethfrom the garment and the rent is made worse. Neither
da men put new wine into old bottles, else the bottles break, and the
wine runneth out, and the bottles perish. In accordance with these
views the leading journal of Europe represents all accounts firom our
colonies as showing that wherever the Anglo-Saxon goes, he carries
not only Protestantism with him, but the voluntary principle too.
The Anti-state Church Association has been attacking our Establish-
ment here for a long time. "However, we have got our Estab-
lishment, and now that we have got it, we intend to keep it. But
the Association it must be admitted, has the whole English Empire,
except these home Islands, for its disciples, and may triumph in
the spread of its principles. There are exceptions in the shape of
particular Institutions, which we do intend to keep, but there can
be' no doubt that Voluntaryism is what we have adopted as a prin*
ciple. This is the rule which we have adopted as an Empire.
Wherever our Colonial Empire spreads, the Voluntary principle will
go with it. It is part and parcel of our imperial policy. ' No State
aid to Religion is the Watchword everywhere except at Horned " And
unless we must regard Englishmen from Home as having much more
sagacity than their brethren at Home ; unless we turn a deaf ear to

Digitized by VjOOQIC

all elaixn^for justice to man, and honour to the ^reat Head of the
Ohurch^ the Yoluntarj principle is destined to triumph even more
signallj at Home, than in the <Ustant Colonies of the Empire.

The past year has been singularly fruitful in facts, evincing the
bondage in which a false religion keeps myriads of human beings in
the Indian peninsula. The Cholera made its appearance anew on
the spot whence it first went forth to desolate the earth. Many
English fell victims, and the excited apprehensions of the native
population carried them to a point yerging on Insanity. They
declared that a mysterious Horseman was riding over the country,
and whereyer the horse's hoofs struck, there the pestilence appeared.
They actually offered up figures of this demon-rider in the Hindoo
Temples existing on the scene of his devastations. But the incubus
of superstitioi^ presses universally on humanity in that Eastern clime.
Accordingly we read in the Correspondence of the British Press
from India, the following startling statement, which if it were not
ap fuUy accredited, would at once be pronounced incredible.

** We have just had a little Santal insurrection of our own, which, though
not on so great a scale as that in Lower Bengal, has had a good deal
in common with it. We are not able to discover how the misunderstand^
ing first began. As usual, it is said, there have been a woman and priest^
in the case. Some of the railway people, working at the foot of the Bhore
Ghaut had, it is asserted, behaved themselves improperly in the villages,
and the beUef began to spread abroad, that they were in quest of young
children^ of whom 300 were said to be required, to propitiate the demons
of the rock. The workpeople first fled from the part of the line near
Matheran, after having severely maltreated some Parsee workmen employ-
ed in constructing houses on the hill-top. Irritation had now proceeded
to such a pitch, that every stranger, of whatever race, on making his
appearance in the neighbourhood was almost sure to be attacked. The
yillagers have nowhere taken the fields in bodies, nor is there any
apprehenson of a general rising, and with a little quiet management,
everything will most likely settle down, when the fallaciousness of
the fears mr their children becomes apparent. There was the same panic
at the idea of human sacrifices when the cuttings were in progress at
KowTojee-hill, near the centre of Bombay, in 1852. A fine comment-
ary it {dfords us certainly on enlightenment descending from above, and on
l^e relative merits of universities and of village schooS, to find a whole dis-
trict along the line of the great highway to the Deccan, constructed 40
years ago, ^nic stricken at the apprehension of the wholesale immolation
of their, children ! The disturbed villages are within two-hours' railway
run of the Elphinstone College. Their inhabitants have been in con-
stant commimication with Europeans since Governor Nepean's time, and
yet in civilization they seem behind the Soutili Sea Islanders.

This is a gloomy picture of the most important dependency of the
British Crown, after an occupation by a Christian power for more
than a hundred years. But there is a bright side to the picture as
well as a dark one. It cannot be doubted that the future destiny t>f
150,000,000 of human beings in India d^ends largely on the con-
duct of the Christians of this country, in reference to that important
dependency. And it is pleasing to know that we have been doing
something more than carrying on the work of subjugation. Lord Dal-
hoiiue ha& just returned from kis singularly successful administration
of the Affiors of our Eastern Empire. He has the repute of having

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Dawnittffs of the Future. ^

done sundry things alike questionable in policy and in justice. He
captured Moultan. He won the bloody and long-contested victory of
Chillianwallah. He effected the entire overthrow of Sikh forees^p-the
Dispersion of the A%han tribesr—the Conquest of Rangoon, and the
Annexation of Oude. Many will be found to question alike the
equity and the policy of these deeds, but happily there are some deeds
inscribed on his roll of flime which none will question. He has
opened up the Inland Navigation of India I He has constructed
Railways over extensive tracts of the Peninsula ! He has instituted
district schools I He has sanctioned the Abolition of Sutteeism 1 He
has introduced the Fenny Postage ! He has stood forth as the enemy
of Polygamy, and finally, he has inaugurated the Magnetic Telegraph
amid tiiie time-worn monuments of a semi-civilization which reaches
back to a period earlier than the dawn of European history, and
has been stereotyped from time immemorial 1 The electric Telegraph,
the most beautiful and surprising invention of the age,^ when combined
as it is with so many evangelizing influences, sent forth from our
Bible, our Tract, and our Missionary Societies, must ere long, under
the dispensation of the Spirit, produce the most important revo-
lutions in the Social condition of India. The subtle and penetrating
intellect of Hindustan will not long remain the Slave of Hinduism,
after being familiarized with the habits of thought which prevail
among Christian nations. Gradually, a new literature containing a
large infusion of Christian sentiment is being introduced, and the
£5icilities for intercourse between mind and mind, must stimulate the
intellect of India in every place, from Cape Comorin to the Himalayas.
With the Railway and Telegraph, another expedient of modem
civilization, as already intimated, has been introduced. The system of
cheap and uniform Postage has been introduced on a far larger scale
than in England. A letter is now conveyed from the Himalayas to Cape
Comorin, from Scinde to the borders of the Birman Empire, for the sum
of three farthings. Ceylon is to be admitted to the benefits of the new
and cheap means of diffusing intelligence over the Eastern world.
Not only is it to enjoy the benefits of the new postal arrangements,
but it is to be united by Magnetic Telegraph with the main-land, and
^^ the time is already looked upon as near, when the Telegraph will
cross the Mediterranean, run along the Red Sea, and the coasts of
the Indian Ocean, and unite London and Calcutta in hourly com-
piunication." What would the immortal Burke say to all this if he
were alive ? Certain it is, that he would no longer reproach us with
having raised no monument to indicate that our ascendancy in India
was that of stronger over feebler minds, and of a superior over an
inferior type of Civilization.

' Nor are the feats of this, the most glorious of man's inventions likely
long to be confined to any particular country, whether in the East
or West, North or South. During the past year, Professor Morse,
the great Telegraphist among our brethren on the other side of the
Atlantic, visited this country, with the view of uniting the Telegraphic
systems of England and America, by an iron cable stretched across
the Atlantic. The Atlantic has, in modem times, performed the same
part which, in former ages, was performed by the Mediterranean, in

Digitized by VjOOQIC

:8 Shadows of the Past, Dawnings of the Future.

the difftision of Civilization over the face of the Globe. It was on the
bosom of the Atlantic that Columbus floated to the realising of his spe-
culation concerning the existence of a Western World ; the Atlantic was
chosen as the scene of the first great experiment on the adaptation of
steamers for long voyages, and for the navigation of stormy seas and
oceans, but the events of the past year clearly show that it is destined
in a few months, to be the theatre of still greater wonders. The iron
cable of the electrician will soon stretch from America to Great Britain,
connecting the great centre of the cotton trade in this Country, with
its great seat on the banks of the Mississippi, and that again, with the
most distant tributaries of this mighty river in the far West. Nor
will these triumphs of Genius stop here. They will be extended, in
every direction, until all parts of the world of commerce shall have been
brought into contact by these mysterious wires. As our reader
has already seen, contemporaneously with these efforts to unite
British and American progress by the Iron cable of civilization,
other labourers are at work in other fields with kindred objects. They
are "busily engaged in fixing the train roads for the electric spark
between the European continent and the northern shores of Africa.
This limit once obtained; the lightning-thought cian flash freely in
its course, across the old land of the Egyptian, whether by the Red
Sea or across the plains of Mesopotamia, to the cities of our
Eastern Empire, and in due time, no doubt to the great centres of
Chinese commerce. Nor is this all. The line which had been laid
down from London in one direction, will soon be carried to the city
of the Californian gold-digger. The corresponding wire, on which we
have just marked a few Stations, will then be borne across the
Chinese Seas and the Northern Pacific — touching, it may be, on its
way at the mysterious empire of Japan, and will be linked on at San
Francisco to the western chain. Then it will happen that a man may
benerate a spark at London which, with one fiery^ leap, will return
hack under Ids hand and disappear, but in that moment of time, it will
gave encompassed the planet on which we are whirling through space
into eternity. That spark will be a human thought."

What an age of wonders is this ! How facilities rise up as by
magic for the diffusion of Commerce over the face of the earth ! But
these things have a more important aspect. These mighty creations of
genius have a moral as well as a commercial bearing. The Missionary
will find his way whither mercantile enterprise conducts the trader ;
every million added to the value of our Commerce with foreign na-
tions will represent so much newly -acquired power for acting on the
Nations of Heathendom and of Antichrist ; every new field of Com-
merce will serve as a new indication of the purpose of the Deity,
that our race and country should enter more largely into the great enter-
prize of subduing the world to King Jesus. No opportunity of doing
good to mankind should be lost ;-— no particle of power, wasted ! The
intellect, the wealth, the enterprize, the opportunity, the sympathies,
the prayers of our race should all be laid under tribute ; should con-
«to/{% be laid under tribute, for the promotion of the spiritual interests
of the nations. Who that regards the responsibility of Britain from
this stand -point but will pray in the words of the Psalmist, Let thy

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Languages of the Bible^ 9

work appear unto thy servants^ and thy glory unto their ehildren.
And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish thou
the work of our hands upon us, yea, the work of our hands establish
thou it f

THE LANGUAGES OF THE BIBLE.

In treating of the languages of the Bible it may be necessaiy to premise
tliat learned men divide the whole number of languages that are, or ever
have been, spoken, into several chief families. Of these by far the most
important are — First, the Indo-Germanic family, including Sanscrit, Greek,
Latin, and German, with nearly all European tongues. And secondly, tho
Shemitic, including Arabic, Hebrew, and Aramaic or Syriac.

Of this latter family, the Arabic has been the most cultivated ; and, being
the language in which the Koran is written, is known to Mussulmen all
over the. world.

The Hebrew, called the saered tongue, because in it nearly all the Old
Testament is written, seems to have been spoken in a comparatively small
district ; perhaps only in Palestine, Phoenicia, and the immediate neigh-
bourhood. It is callea Hebrew, because it was the language of the people
of that name ; and they appear to have been so designated, from Ileber ;
who being the last patriarch, before the dispersion from Babel, must have
possessed an authority (as speaking to an undivided people) which no
succeeding patriarch could have had.

The term Hebrew language does not, however, occur in the Old Testament.
There it is called the language of the Jews^ as at 2 Kings xviii. 26, or the lip
of Canaan, as at Isaiah xix. 8.

Most probably this was the language of Canaan, before Abraham cam©
into it. For we observe that his relatives on the other side of the Euphrates
spoke another tongue (Gen. xxxi. 47,) and in the narrative of the intercourse
between the Hebrews and the people of the land, there is no allusion to any
difference of speech. Then again, the names of places in Canaan, from the
very earliest times, have all a meaning in Hebrew, but not in any other
language ; and in the few existing records of the dialect of the idolatrous
part of the land, as in the Phoenician, on coins discovered at Tyre, and
Malta; and in the daughter of the Phoenician, namely the Punic or Car-
thaginian, preserved in a Latin comedy of Plautus (Poenulus v. 1, 2), we find
a form of speech identical with the Hebrew, And lastly, and very con-
vincingly, as showing that the Hebrew was indigenous to a country placed
like Palestine, the same word is used both to denote both Sea and West,

In this language, the whole of the Old Testament is written, with the
exception of parts of the Books of Ezra and Daniel. And it is remarked
how little change the language underwent during the thousand years over
-which the composition of the book extended. This is due to the natural
inflexibility of the language itself; isolation of the people from the rest of
the world; the influence of the Pentateuch in fixing it; and the general
belief in its sacredness. For these reasons, the language of Moses is sub-
tantially the same as that of Malachi, in spite of some antique phrases in
the former, and the gradually increasing admixture of Syrian with all the
writers that succeeded Isaiah.

The Hebrew died out, as a spoken language, at, or soon after the Baby-
lonish captivity, and was replaced by the Syrian or Aramaic, which was the
language of their conquerors, the Assyrians and Babylonians. This was
tho language in which Eliakim begged Bab-shakeh to speak to the people
in Jerusalem, because they did not understand it, as the chiefs themselves
did. It seems clear therefore that the language of Syria began to penetrate

Digitized by VjOOQIC

OlO The Langmga of ike BiNe.

Israel after this time ; and, when, the Jews remained for two generaiionci
in Babylon, they must have lost, nearly, if not entirely, all recollection
of their former speech. For Ezra seems to have interpreted the words of
the Law to them, on their return, (Neh. viii. 8.) While yet from the
fact of Zechariah, Haggai, and Malachi, continuing to write in Hebrew,
we may conclude it had not quite disappeared ; as we know it had a little
later at the time of Alexander*s conquests.

The language that took its place was much more widely spread : it is
called Syrian in the English translation of the Bible, as at 2 Kings xviii.
26. Dan. ii. 4. But it is usual now to call it Aramaic, since Aram is the
real Biblical word for Syria, and seems to have designated the country
North and East of the Euphrates, from which Abraham had originally
emigrated, and where afterwards arose that fierce and conquering race
which founded Nineveh and Babylon. It used to be called Chaldee, but
erroneously; as the only place, where the tongue of the Chaldeans is
mentioned, is at Dan. i. 4 : and there it manifestly means a language
peculiar to a priestly caste at Babylon, not to the whole people.

At the time of our Lord, this was the native language of Palestine ; and
occurs in our Testaments, in the words Ephphatha, Talitha Cumi, Eli Eli
lama Sabacthani, &c. This was also the language of the inscription on the
cross, and of St. Paul's speech as recorded at Acts xxii. Although in both
these instances the Hebrew is mentioned, there is no doubt that it is the
modem, not the ancient, language that is meant.

In it are also written those parts of the Old Testament, which are not
in Hebrew : viz, Daniel ii. 4, to vii. 28 ; and Ezra iv. 8, to 6, 18 ; and vii.
12 — 26. Also the ancient Chaldee paraphrases on the Bible, and the
Talmud. And to the present day it is the sacred language of the
Nestorians and Syrian Christians ; even of those on the Malabar coast
of India.

The only other lan^uagre that remains to be noticed is the Greek, in
which, the whole of the New Testament is written : a peculiar dialect of
which prevailed in Western Asia and Egypt, in consequence of the con-
quests of Alexander the Great. Its chief locsdity was Alexandria, where
the first Ptolemies had transplanted most of the arts and sciences which
used to flourish before in Athens. This dialect is therefore called Alex-
andrian Greek, and is distinguished from the language of the classics, by
having engrafted on it, many Hebrew and other Oriental modes of ex-
pression ; no doubt partly in consequence of the great numbers of Jews,
who, from an early period, dwelt in Alexandria.

Even in Palestine, although Hebrew retained its place as the sacred
language, and Syrian or Aramaic was spoken in the country parts, there
is every probability that Greek was the ordinary speech of intercourse ; and
that it stood in the same relation to the native Aramaic^ that English does
to Welsh in Wales at the present day.

In this Alexandrian Greek is written the whole of the New Testament ;
the ancient Septuagint translation of the Old ; and the works of Josephus
and Philo. As it was the common language of the Eastern part of the
Boman Empire, it became necessarily the common language of all early
Christians, who for some years were confined to that part of the worla.
And even when Christianity had reached Home and the West, there is
evidence that Greek (and not Latin, as might have been supposed) was, for
a long time, the ecclesiastical tongue.

It is a matter of discussion whether our Lord and his Apostles spoke
Greek or Aramaic ; and it does not seem possible to pronouce a decided
verdict on the question. It is likely enough that all the people of Palestine,
except the most retired or the most ignorant, understood and used, both
forms of speech. Hence the threefold inscription on titie cross. In Aramaic

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Domestic Associations. 1 1

and Greek for the pople : just as the public doeumenta in Wales might be
in Welsh and English : — and in Latin, because that was the official language
of Pontius Pilate, and the government servants.

Trom the fact of some few Aramaic words of our Lord being preserved,
we might conclude that he did not always speak in that ton^e ; and it
iniist have been observed that when St Paul addresses the peo^e from the
dastle stairs in Hebrew {i,e, in Aramaic), they were pleased by this mark of
respect to their native tongue ; and had expected that he would rather
speak Greek, which they understood equally well. On the other hand the
question of the chief captain, ** Canst thou speak Greek ? '' would seem to
nave originated the second question, " Art thou not that Egyptian P " as
iSreek was certainly the language of Egypt at that time ; and therefore the
chief captain supposed he was not an inhabitant of Palestine.

At any rate, tnere was certainly a distinction between Qreek-speaking
Jews, and others. For we notice in the Acts of the Apostles (chap. vi. &c.,)
that some are called Hebrews and some Grecians. There is a difference of
opinion as to whether the distinction consisted in the speech they used, or
in the version of the Bible that they read. For while the Jews of Palestine,
and eastward of that country, constantly used the original Hebrew
Scriptures, only rendered into Aramaic at the very moment they were read ;
the Jews of Alexandria, and generally in the countries west of the Holy
liand, seem not to have known the Hebrew, even in the synagogues, and to
have used only the Greek Septuagint translation.

As Greek was the tongue of their Syrian oppressors in the time of the
Maccabees, the Babbis looked upon it with aversion, as being especially a
profane tongue, fit only for entirely worldly business, but never to be
intruded into the synagogue. This feeling was aggravated by the fact that
the Jews of Alexandna — where chiefly Greek-speaking Jews abounded, —
had not only a translation of the Scriptures, which, they advanced almost
to the same rank as the original : but even a temple of their ownj which in
some respects was permitted to rival the holy building in Jerusalem.

But, anyhow, Greek was the current language of 9ie world at the time
of the appearance of Christianity : — the language with which a man mi^ht
travel from end to end of the Koman Empire. And there appears a special
providence in the circumstance that the Gospel was sent forth at the very
time when there was thus a universal language, in which to convey it. It
was necessary to the free circulation of the message, that it should be
written in the speech of the Empire^ not in some local dialect. And the
Grecians or Hellenists, though despised by the Palestine Jews, appear
eert^nly, bj means both of their more common tongue, and also of their
greater enhghtenment, to have been the part of Israel that most generally
embraced the Gospel, and carried it into distant lands, away from its
original cradle in Judea and Galilee. Vf • H. J.

DOMESTIC ASSOCIATIONS.

"NOTHIHa BUT A BABY.*'

The bell of a village steeple tolled heavily, as the sinking sun reflected its
gorgeous rays on every pane of the tall church windows. Through a street
beautifully shaded by droopiug elm-trees, moved a humble procession
towards the hill which rose, dotted with monuments and tombstones, on
the eastern side of the sanctuary. No hearse with nodding plumes, no
long array of carriages, drawn by steeds in funeral trappings, heralded the
the approach of a new dweller in the land of silence. One carriage,
containing three women, a man and a little coffin, followed by a few toil^
worn artizans and wondering boys, constituted the funeral procession.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

12 Domestic Associations.

Just as tlie huge iron gate of the cemetery grated on its hinges to admit
them, a band of merry school-girls, released from study, came towards
them. There is a magnet in sorrow which draws all hearts, either frodi
motives of sympathy or curiosity. These children, who had never known
a care, turned into the yard, and sought the open grave. As the old man
who rode in the carriage assisted a woman up the gravel walk towards
them, their ears were arrected by the most heart-rending sobs and groans.
They looked round for 'the hearse which should bear in it the mother,
brother, or husband of the humble mourner. But none came. The sexton,
with the air and gait of a man doing his daily business, passed them
rapidly, and led the way to the grave, with the tiny coffin under his arm.
At the sight of it the sobbing mourner broke forth in new tones of anguish :
" Oh no," she said to the old man against whom she leaned, " I cannot
have it buried yet — let me keep it here a little longer." He whispered sooth-
ingly in her ear, and stooped to open the little coffin. Then the young
mother knelt beside her dead, and covered the sweet marble face with
tears and kisses. She smoothed down the sunny hair with her hand, and
laid her own burning cheek upon the cold one of the baby for one moment.
Then clasping her hands tightly, she gasped out "Bury it now." The man
of death wanted no urging to the work. He lowered the mother's darling
into its cold bed, and began to rattle the earth and stones upon itr Few
hearts are so strong as to bear that cruel sound, and the stricken woman
turning round to her aged friend, cried out, ** Take me away now, before
another stone falls on the coffin, or my heart will break."

Then the school-girls saw the face of the weeper, and wondered at her
youth. " How strange," whispered a blooming maiden to her companion,
" that she can make such ado — it is nothing but a baby."

"Nothing hut a hahy,^^ Wait awhile, child of beauty; wait till a few years
have deepened the bloom which is just be^nning to tinge the cheek and
lip ; wait till the gentle heart of thine, which is now more than satisfied
with quiet home-love, shall beat with a newer passion, in comparison with
which all others will look dim ; wait till thy heart, now all thine, shall be
given to another's keeping, and beat only in unison with his ; wait till a
new claimant comes to share thy love with him, and to make thee a higher
and a nobler being, as thou ministerest unto " one of these little ones," —
then wilt thou know, and not till then, the fall depth of a mother s love,
but not of her anguish. The day of darkness may yet come to thee, child
of joy. Thou mayest, in days to come, weep beside a little open grave,
and then turn away with the agony of the childless mother, and seek that
silent chamber whose light thou hast just lain in the grave. But even
then, shouldst thou look back to this day, and remember this little grave
and thine own careless words beside it, thou couldst not fathom the depth
of this mother's anguish, unless thou shouldst be alone and desolate as she
is. If thou hast a father's bosom in which to hide thy tear-stained face, or
a husband's arm to support thee in thy weakness, thou canst never, never
know the throes of this youthful stranger, now widowed, orphaned, and
childless. Hear her simple story, and never again let thy bounding heart
whisper, or thy red lips utter, " Nothing but a baby."

Little does the cherished daughter of parents able and anxious to make
her happy, realise when she goes forth to her own home, the full blessing
which God giants when he gives to her a strong and noble man to be head
over her. His is but a new love added to the rich store she possessed
before ; it is not, cannot be, her all of earthly joy. But alas for her— the
pale young widow beside that tiny grave— she could tell a tale of sorrow
which would blanch the rose on many a cheek, and raise the tear from
many an eye.

Leah Walton was from her cradle the child of poverty. While a school-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

domestic Associations. IS

girl, her widowed motlier, worn out by that woman's curse — the needle —
sank into an untimely grave, leaving her to the pity of a humble neigh^
hour. Leah was upright, industrious, and beautifully modest. Her
personal charms were by no means small as she neared womanhood ; but
alas for the poor ! the worm of covetousness began to feed upon her
beauty, and to steal her bloom long before it reached its meridian. The
unending "stitch, stitch, stitch," beneath the sun*s smile and the mid-
night's pale lamp, soon told the work it was doing on her frail form.
Then appeared, as if to snatch her from the certain doom of the ill-paid
needlewoman, one who offered her a lowly home but a noble heart.
Theirs was no tale of romance ; he was not titled youth, who came to
raise her from poverty to plenty and splendour. He was only a poor man,
earning his bread by the sweat of his brow, asking her to be the wife of a
poor man, and promising while God granted strength to his right arm, to
provide for her wants and to shield her from danger. Well did he fulfil
his promise, and for a few short months the gentle Leah enjoyed more
of happiness and freedom from care than her brightest dreams had ever
pictured. And then, not for his own ease or aggrandizement, but that he
might make her more happy, he began to tSk of the Gold Land, and
to make plans for spending their two short years. His little effects were
gathered together, his young wife amply provided for, and with a most
reluctant assent from her, he, with a young friend, set sail for the American
Ophir. But he never reached its shining shore. His brave young head
found a coral pillow, and the strong arm on which so many hopes hung
fell cold and powerless on a bed of golden sand.

Hope deferred made the young heart of Leah sick, long, long before the
companion of his voyage sealed her melancholy fears. And did she, who
knew what toil and poverty were — who had already drank their cup
to the dregs in her childhood — did she fold her hands and sink powerless
beneath this heavy stroke 1 No, no ! She rose in all the strength God
grants to feeble dependent woman. Then, in His providence, she becomes
the protector and provider. A new object had already claimed her love
and care, and she went forth as before, and sued as if she were a beggar.
— ^not for bread — but for work, Leah sought and found employment, and
again her little fingers flew over one garment after another, as if the
helpless little one before her had given them wings. Often in her little
room would she steal a few moments to study the Sice of her baby-boy —
to see his father's smile play around his lips and glance from his dark
eye. Often then in the twilight would she enjoy the luxury— some rich
mothers call it drudgery— of holding her infant in her arms, and carrying
it, pressed close to her bosom, around the narrow room. Often would
the tears of anguish fall upon its innocent £a.ce, while she at the same
moment blessed God that he had not left her quite desolate — that he had
given her this child to rear for him.

A woman who had long known the bitterness of poverty, in trying
to condole with Leah on her husband's death, said, "Yes, poor thing, it is
hard for you. If you only hadn't this baby to provide for, you'd get
along nicely."

" Oh, don't say so, my kind friend," replied Leah, " While God spares
him I shall have the heart for any hardship. This gift is the one bright
spot in all my sorrowful way."

And so it was. Months rolled by, and the young widow's eye never
grew dim, nor her heart weary over her midnight task.

She drew bright pictures of coming days, when little Charley could talk
and sympathise with her— when she could lean on his arm and trust in his
love, as she had done on his father's. But not so had Heaven decreed.
In all, the book of Providence there was no thorny path marked out for his

Digitized by VjOOQlC

14 Domestic AssoektHansm

tender foot— there was no hnnger, no tbitst, no sin to stain the reoord of
Charley's foture heritage. The orphan's God had prepared for this babe
of poverty a mansion in his own house, where there Ib bread enongh
andt to sparer-water of life to slake his thirst— a white robe, and a resting-
place in Jesus' bosom. Was that a sad doom I Surely not for Charley. ^

But how did the young heart, thus doubly bereaved, bear up beneath this
last stroke which death had the power to make on her spirit ? 8he mourned,
and would not be comforted, because her child was not. She did not
rebel against her Father's rod, but bowed before him, even while her soal
was in bitterness. There was no heart in all the wide selfish world she
could now call her own— had she not cause lor anguish ? The compassion-
ate Saviour did not rebuke her for those tears, but with his own sweet
accents whispered into her heart, ^* What thou knowest not notr, thou shalt
know hereafter."

The promise fell not without power on her heart, and she wondered,
as she laid her head on her lonely pillow that night — Charley's first night
in the grave— when that " hereafter" would come, which was to reveal
unto her the " needs-be" for this sore chastisement* That day came and
did not tarry. It proved that all was done in compassion. Her own last
day was at hand, and then with what joyful confidence did she cry to the
humble pitying neighbours who surrounded her bed, " Oh, what mercy,
what lovmg-kindness in God, that he took Charley first ! Who could have
loved him as I have done in health ? Who could have soothed him in
death 1 I knew not then what the Lord was doing. Now the clouds and
darkness are all removed, and I see that my Father is only tender and
pitiful, even when we are in affliction under his hand." And the hearts of
the poor who stood around Leah's bed were strengthened, and they felt
that behind their dark cloud, as well as here, the sun was shining, and
would one day be revealed.

And did little Charley accomplish nothing by his brief life ? True, he
was " nothing but a baby ;" but he did cheer for months a lonely aching
heart, and in death God niade it his mission to justify before men his ways,
and to brighten the mother's pathway down to his own silent bed.

Jesus, when in the flesh, esteemed " these little ones" very highly — ^he
now carries them in his arms, and bears them in his bosom. Let not then
the gay and the happy set lightly by them, or wonder that they occupy so
deep a place in the hearts of those to whom God has given them. Let
them never say, when they see a bereaved 'mother overwhelmed with an-
guish, '* Why make such an ado) It is nothing but a baby " — N^to York

A MOTHEB'S FAITS.

Late in the Autumn of last year, a pale, quiet little girl, came to my
school, requesting to be admitted, saying that she had recently come from
the country, and now lived in the district where the school was situated.
Her dress indicated poverty, but there was a delicate cleanliness in her
person and garments that, to an experienced eye, betokened intelligent
parents. Several months passed, and by her sweetness of disposition, her

punctuality, and good scholarship, Ellen jB ^had become very dear to me.

I had often wished to learn something more of her circumstances, but
the press of duties had postponed the fulfilment of my wishes from time
to time.

She was absent from school on a Monday morning. During the afternoon
session I sent a little girl to her house to inquire if she was iU. The

messenger reported that Ellen was weU, but that Mrs. B was sick in

bed, and that Ellen could not come to school at present j and then, with

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Domestic Aaociations, iS

tears in her eyed and sudden grasp of my hand, the little girl said, ^ If yon
will only go and see them, I shall be so glad, for I know they are very
poor. There was no fire in the room, and it made me shiver tp stand
there." I promised to go, while my heart smote me for my past
negligence.

The early shades of a December night were settling upon the crowded
streets, as I wended my way to this suffering family. The street was in a
miserable locality, and the house was crowded with rough and vicious
people. Upon reaching the door my light rap was answered by Ellen, who
seized my hand, and almost ran with me to the opposite corner of the
room, saying softly, when she reached the bed, " Mother wake up and see
my teacher, who has come to see us."

A slender woman, apparently about thirty years of age, lay before me,
but thin and pale. At the sound of her daughter's voice, a slight twitching
of the eyelids was observable, and then the languid eyes opened, — those
eyes that would so soon close for the last time upon all earthly things.

She gazed in my face a moment, and then faintly said, " God is good.
He never utterly forsakes those who put their trust in him." The effort
of uttering these words brought on a violent coughing fit, which, however,
lasted but a few moments. After it was passed, I looked about the room.
Besides the bed upon which the invalid lay, there was only a table and one
chair in the room, and over the fire an empty candlestick. I asked Ellen if
they had a candle. She replied that there was a little piece which she had
saved, so that she could strike a light if her mother should be very bad in
the night. I bade her light it, and keep up courage a little while, till
I returned.

It was the work of half an hour to order a small supply of fuel and food,
leave word for a physician to call, obtain a little wine, and return. But soon
a flame was dancing in the grate ; Ellen was making a supper, and the
invalid was somewhat refreshed. When the physician arrived, he con-
firmed my worst fears. Mrs. B saw it as well as T,

" Then you think, sir, that I can last but a little longer ?"

** I fear it is so," he replied.

•*It is well," were her softly tittered words, and the closed eyes, the
clasped hands, the sweet expression, told us that she was conversing with '
God, and almost face to face* The veil of fiesh was nearly rent in twain.

Dr. M left only a cordial, and bade me watch carefully through the

night. It was a happy privilege* Mrs. B 's energies seemed to have

revived. She did not sleep, and before morning she had told me her sad
history. Not one complaint did she utter, not once did she betray any
impatience ; and when I inquired, as she finished her tale, if her courage
had never faltered, if she could always put faith in God, her reply was,
" Does he not provide for the ravens ? Are not the hairs of our head
numbered?" and then she continued, ^* 1 bless God that he has enabled me,
through all my trials, to see his hand ever before me. Yes, ever with
regard to Ellen, I trust in him. He will temper the wind to the shorn
lamb, though my poor wisdom cannot see the way he will take."

Her husband, who had been a mechanic, had died, leaving only the
household furniture. They had no friends to whom they could apply, and in

their secluded home there was no work to be had, which Mrs. B was

-strong enough to do. She sold her furniture, except what would furnish
one httle room, and came to the city, hoping to earn a living by doing fine
sewing, at which she was very expert. But unacquainted with the city and
with city customs, she had tried in vain to procure work of the kind she
needed, and was obliged to take the very coarsest from one of the wholesale
establishments. She could not earn enough for support without working
almost all night, and her health failed at once. Piece by piece her fumi-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

16 Heformatory Schools.

lure had been pawned, and till this very night no friendly face had crossed
her threshold. She had kept Ellen at school as long as she dared, for the
sake of the warmth of the school-room, and when I entered, she was
praying that some one mi^ht be raised np to befriend her child.

Toward morning she &11 into a short slumber, and on awakening rose
in bed, and called m a clear tone to Ellen. The child sprang up, and in
a moment was folded in her mother's arms. In a clear yoice, the mother
said, ''Trust in God, my child, always: he will never forsake you;*' and
fell back upon the pillow a corpse.

After the funeral was over, I took Ellen to stay with me a few days,

till Dr. M and I could find a home for her ; but she clung to me, and

was so sweet and gentle in her grief, that I could not part with her. She
has been my child since that sad night.

REFORMATORY SCHOOLS.

. From the whirl of politics, and the resultless labours of the Legislature,
it is, indeed, a relief to turn to practical and social objects, and to the
successful labours of voluntary benevolence. The meeting of the National
Reformatory Union recently held at Bristol, must be regarded as inaugura-
ting an era in the progress of that important movement. Since the first
meetings at Birmingham, in 1851 and 1853, so much has been done, as
well as said, in this country, that the public is now better informed on the
subject of Juvenile Criminal Reformation ; and, though the movement is
yet in its infancy, we have also a satisfactory accumulation of home facts.
These were .presented by Lord Stanley in his opening speech at the Bristol
meeting, with all the logical force, and measured freedom from exagger*
ation, which mark his Lordship*s speeches generally, and which give them
such deserved weight, and we shall make free use in this article of the
information he has so admirably epitomized. Our colonies have done us
more indirect service than could have been imagined, if their rejection
of our criminals should direct our attention more earnestly than ever to
the fountain of crime. This seems to have been the case. Reformatory
efibrts are not, it is true, quite of to-day : the subject has engaged the
attention of philanthrophists, and schools have been in existence for half
a century or more : but it is since the time when the colonies compelled
us to keep our own criminals, that statesmen of all political creeds have
felt that the proper mode of dealing with juvenile criminals is, in fact, the
most important part of our criminal jurisprudence.

We do not undervalue Lord Brougham's representations on the
importance of making the goal a Reformatory school for the adult, but
we think it also demonstrated that the youthful criminals are, firstly,
by far the most hopeful class to deal with, and, secondly, the most
prolific cause of adult criminals. All is in favour of the age which has not
acquired the rigidity of fixed habits, and which is, unquestionably, the
age of comparative flexibility ; nor is it less important that youthful crime
has not affixed on the lad the stigma which the same act would inflict on
the adult — hence it is much easier to find employment for lads from a
Reformatory School than for ticket-of-leave convicts. When to this we
add the startling fact, that one-fourth of the crime of the kingdom is
committed by one-tenth of its population, and that that tenth part is the
one which is under twenty years of age, it is apparent enough that our
young criminals are the class demanding our first attention. Indeed, a
very large proportion of our adult criminals began their course at the
very age with which the Reformatory Schools propose to deal.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Reformatory Schoolsw 17

• Some facts will be interesting by way of illustration. It appears that
out of, in round numbers, one hundred thousand committals, not less than
eleven thousand four hundred were seventeen years of age— this is about
eleven and a-half per cent, of the whole ; a very large proportion at that
early age, not less it is thought than half, being recommittals — about four
thousand of them were known to be so ; conclusive evidence this, that,
unless a Beformatory course be substituted, in the case of the young,
for the present practice of short imprisonments, they alone will furnish us
with adult criminals at the rate of at least five or siji thousand a year.
Another fact which appeals most strongly to our sense of justice as well
as to our pity, is, that the great majority of these lads had, as Mr. Clay
of Preston observes, no chance of becoming anything but what they were.
He found, that in seventy per cent, of the cases he investigated, the blame of
their misconduct lay, unquestionably, at the door of their parents. In
fifty-seven per cent, there had been habitual drunkenness, often accom*
panied by brutality, on the part of the father— a feet, we may observe
in passing, which, taken in connection with the repeatedly ana strongly
expressed opinion of our judges^ should mitigate the censures of those who
denounce the Maine Liquor Law. If half the youthful criminals, and so
larffe a proportion of the adult ones, are created by strong drink, those may,
at least, be borne with, who, perhaps mistakenly, wish to expel it, even
by force, from the country. Another eighteen per cent, of the cases Mr.
Clay traced to habitual indifference and neglect. The same result was
obtained by Mr. Adshead of Manchester ; out of one hundred criminal
children he found that sixty were born of dishonest and profligate parents
— thirty of parents, profligate, though not of the criminal claSs— and ten
only of parents both honest and industrious ; how far, we may ask, might
not the crimes of even these ten have been traced indirectly to the others,
through association with the children of bad parents? Revolting as
youthful vice and crime frequently appear, we can hardly conceive a
stronger claim than that which these facts present. We are bound to
treat such lads as moral but recoverable lunatics. Their moral faculties
were repressed by parental wickedness, till they had no reasonable appre-
hension of even social duties ; but the faculty is still there, and it may be
awakened till the lad feels himself another being, respects himself, and
rejoices in his own emancipation.

Not less conclusive is the evidence on the inutility of the general practice
of short imprisonments. It has indeed been lung shown by Lord
Brougham, and othei's, to be rather a provocation, than a hindrance, to
crime. The lad is in gaol just long enough to learn increased dexterity in
the practices which have brought him there, and fresh arts for evading
detection ; he leaves with a character which deprives him of all hope of
obtaining employment, since no one can guarantee his reformation under a
process which rather guarantees the opposite — he is, therefore, driven to
his old practices, almost for bread, and in the coui-se of a short time is
most freouently in the same place again, or, if not, it may be due to his
greater skill in avoiding his enemies, the police. Baron Alderson, theie-
fore, has justly observed, in a recent charge, that *'to punish young
ofienders with short terms of imprisonment is a proceeding neither wise
nor humane." He quoted, in proof of his observation, a table of figures,
prepared by the Governor of Glasgow Bridewell thirty years ago, by
which it appears, that of prisoners sentenced for the first time to fourteen
days' continement, there returned to goal for new offences seventy-tive
per cent. ; of those sentenced to thirty days, sixty per cent. ; forty days,
fifty ; sixty days, forty ; three months, twenty-five ; six months, ten ; nine
months, seven and a-half ; twelve months, four ; eighteen mouths, one ;
twenty- four months none;, although in the ten years over which ihi^

C

Digitized by VjOOQlC

18 jR^ormatary Schools.

calculation extends, the number of those senteuoed for twenty-four months
was ninety-three, It is added that prisoners who came back two or three
times went on returning at intervals for years, and that many of those
committed for short periods on their first offence were afterwards trans-
ported or hanged. We may add another numerical statement almost as
strong. In Heading Goal, October, 1852, it was found that out of two hun-
dred and nine prisoners recommitted to separate confinement, eighty-nine
were under seventeen ^ears of age when first committed, and those eighty-
iciine had been in prison altogether four hundred and three times, or
nearer five times than four times arpiece. Few of us, however, can have
doubted the hopelessness of Reformation, or of deterring from crime, by
the ordinary practice. Even if lads be kept in solitary confinement
during their imprisonment, the difficulty would remain of providing them,
on leaving, with honest employment. Probably no one will wonder at the
well established result, that about one-half of the convicts in our prisons
have belonged to the class of juvenile criminals.

With such facts before us, the object of chief interest is the prospect
opened by the Beformatory system. No one will expect, in dealmg with
any class of human beings, to meet with uniform success, and least of all
with the class in question. To us the schools appear, as hitherto worked,
to have attained their end far beyond what could have been hoped for.
From the celebrated institution at Mettray, under the care of M. oe Metz,
nearly ninety per cent, have turned out well, and of the eleven or twelve
per cent, which have relapsed, about one quarter have been again
reclaimed. Every one will remember the steady and admirable conduct
of these lads during the late inundations of France. At Redhill, from
which seven hundred and twenty boys have been discharged since its
institution in 1849, seventy per cent, have been reclaimed ; the emigrants
having done best, the proporticxi of relapses having been smaller than
among those at home. In the Glasgow House of Refuge, out of four
hundred lads, eighty-five per cent, have been reclaimed. When we remem-
ber that the majority of these youths, bat for the benevolent intervention
of the school, would assuredly have taken the customary course — would
have left the gaol with blighted character but increased cunning, have
repeated their offences and been again imprisoned, and have gone forth
again to commit yet more daring crimes, till sentenced to transportrtion
for life, or to the gallows, it is impossible not to feel grateful for the result
which has thus far been secured, and to desire the energetic extension of
the Reformatory system.

It is of the happiest omen that there are no factions on this question.
There are considerable differences of opinion, and differences decidedly and
frankly expressed, but there is no party or sectarian alienation. AU feel
united by their common object, and by their sense of its vast importance.
Each seems willing and even pleased that the other should make full trial
of his own plan, and appears ready to profit by the varied experience.
Oh, that it could yet be so in a yet higher province ! On the relation of
Government and legislation to the Reformatory effort, there is also a
thoroughly good understanding. The Government feels that its interfe-
rence or meddlesome control would ruin all, yet even voluntaries do not
deny that schools for criminals are a legitimate object of Government
support. Hence Government most wisely leaves the managers of each
school to their own wisdom and benevolence, while it contributes five
shillings each towards the support of the lads. The total cost is estimated
at fifteen shillings per head. One very important object is, however, to
make the parents themselves pay part of the expense of the lad's support^
while he is detained in the school ; this is requisite, not only as in the
fn^ority of cases a well-deserved penalty for parental neglect, or perhaps

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr. William Wilson, 19

dishonesty, but also to prevent parents inducing the children to commit
crimes as a means of placmw thorn in a good school. With the same view,
it seems essential that the Keformatory achool should not be made use of
to train lads to high intellectual or industrial acquirements ; the effect of
80 doing must ineviUibly be to render the schools a desirable resort for all
classes. The criminal children of criminal parents must not be placed in
a better position than the children of the honest and industrious. All
these ends would appear to be best attained by leaving these institutions,
as at present, to the management of the voluntary associations which
originate them, which must feel a personal and benevolent interest in their
success, and which are guided by tne mutual communication of opinion and
experience in the manner recently illustrated by the Brifltol con&rence.

BIOGRAPHY.

MR WILLIAM WILSON.

Mr. William Wilson was born at Wakefield, on the 30th April, 1784.
His parents kept the Royal Oak inn. King-street^ in that town, of which
they were also the proprietors. They were moral and religious, to the
extent of regular attendance at the Wakefield parish church. As might
be expected, however, from the nature of their avocation, the training of
their children received but a moderate attention. William, who was the
eldest son, was duly sent to the day-school, but as far as the Sabbath
was concerned, he was left to himself, as may be inferred from the
following incident. When not more than seven or eight years of age,
he had been one day playing on the kitchen dresser, when suddenly
taming round, he jumped off, most unfortunately, into a large pan of hoiling
water, which one of the servants had inadvertently placed there just before,
he was seriously scalded, and laid up in consequence for some time. But
the following Sunday, a gentleman called to see the little boy. and intro-
duced himself to his astonished parents as William's teacher at the Sunday-
school, He had been attending the Sabbath-school for some time, unknown
to his parents, and this was the first occasion of his absence. Already had
he commenced the formation of those habits which were to form the man,
and fit him for future usefulness. It was shortly after this, at the age of
nine years, that he was presented with a Bible in the same Sabbath-school^
as a reward for committmg to memory and reciting the Catechism of the
Church of England. The Bible still bears this inscription : — " The gift of
Lord Wharton's Trustees to William Wilson, aged 9 years. M. Bacon,
Vicar. Wakefield, 1793." This Bible became his companion for many years^
and from its use he largely derived his knowledge of the inspired volume*

At this time he regularly attended the parish church, ^mpted alone by
his love of Pivine worship, and reverence of the Sabbath. With the latter he
would never allow secular duties to interfere. Its sanctity was kept inviolate.
On one occasion, after he had cleaned his shoes on the Saturday evening, he
went out to look at the progress of some new buildings his father was erect-
ing immediately adjoining. To preserve his shoes clean for the Sabbath, he
put on instead his sister's pattens. Shod in this uncertain manner, he
walked over the joists of the new building ; his foot slipped, and he was
precipitated into the cellar below. Late in the evening he was discovered
by his anxious father in a mass of stones, and taken up for dead. But
a kind Providence had watched his fall, and he was preserved from
death. His tknU was fractured, and he lay insensible for two days, and
when, at the end of that time, consciousness returned, memory had for the
time lost its eeat; For some time his life was despaired of, but he slowly

0 2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

20 Biography of Mr. William Wihon,

recovered ; and a slight additional stiflfiiess in the left knee, which he felt '
through life, was the only permanent injury inflicted. This interposition of '
Providence always excited his lively gratitude.

He had an inquiring mind, and his aptitude for instruction, and diligent
application, enabled him to make much more rapid advances than the
meagre tuition of that day was calculated to produce. When he left school,
he did not bid farewell to learning, but only commenced a more diligent' .
course of self-improvement. He became a clever arithmetician and mathe-
matician, and by his own application and perseverance, fitted himself for '
the situation which he subsequently filled. Like all other boys he formed '
companionships : but he had one rule, which he since frequently impressed '
on the minds of the young; he selected them from those whom he regarded'
as better than himself. Such companionships became mutual helps, exciting
a cordial sympathy in all that was good, and stimulating to a lofty purpose
and a noble effort The closest of these friends was a youth of the name of
Bell. With him he commenced attending the ministry of the Rev. Benjamin
Rayson, Independent minister of Wakefield; and along with him and
another companion, formed a class for mutual improvement, which met
periodically at Mr. Rayson's house. When circumstances led to the sepa-
ration of the friends, they still for some years kept up an annual meeting at
Wakefield ; and when that failed, carried on an mteresting correspondence,
till the death of one, and then another, closed its earthly character.

William's parents had intended him for the woollen trade, and in due
time he was sent to a person who had four looms and as many apprentices,
to learn the trade. After being with him some time, thinking that a mer-
cantile life would afford him more scope, he determined to leave his native
Elace, and with his father's consent set out for Manchester, to start life on
is own account.

It was the year 1802 ; a year memorable by the peace of Amiens, which
hushed the stormy passions of Europe to a brief repose. With one or two
letters of introduction from gentlemen in his native town, he walked to
Manchester, and the next morning was engaged by the firm of Parker,
Stocks, and Co., of Heaton Mersey, bleachers, dyers, calico-printers, spinners,
manufacturers, and farmers. He entered the counting4iouse, where his
character immediately won for him his position. His employers soon per-
ceived that they had got no eye-servant, but one who made their interests
his own, and when, a very short time after, the cashier left the establish-
ment, to his great astonishment he was at once elevated to that position.
His first act spoke the man. Over his desk, in large characters, he wrote
and suspended that motto, which was to be his rule of action through life..
^ Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.*' He applied
himself to his duties with an energy that defied fatigue, and a perseverance
that triumphed over every difficulty. As an illustration, we may mention
that it had been customary to pay the men's wages between eight and. tea
on the Saturday evetiing ; and this was done in links, that is, the wages of
two or three were paid in one sum, which necessitated a resort to the

Eublic-house for a division of claims. As may be imagined, it frequently
appened that but a small portion of the wages reached the home of the
operative, to be laid out in the Stockport market, distant two or three miles,^
at that late hour on the Saturday night. Against this practice he remon-
strated ; but no, neither time nor mode of payment could be improved.
Mr. Wilson had not occupied his new post a fortnight, when every man had
received his own wages before four o'clock on the Saturday afternoon. It
was a boon for which he received, as he deserved, the grateful acknowledg-
ments of many a family. His position and duties iuvolved the closest con-
finement to business. There was no Ten Hours' Bill then, and often he was
at work till midnight, and on market-days till four in the morning. He

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr, WUUam Wilson^ 2 1

jicvertheless contrived opportunities for self-improvement, • He commenced
& di&ry, continued for a number of years, and maintained a considerable
.correspondence with relatives and old associates, a complete ledger account
for some years being still preserved. He was fond of readinff, and many an
.hour which bixsiness denied, he snatched from reposC; and employed in
.acquainting himself, not with novelists, but the best authors within his
reach, — poets and prose writers — history — philosophy — moral science — and
religion. All this was done without any intrenchment'on secular duties. His
business, he made his business, and pleasure, physical or mental, was never
suffered to ii^terfere. " Duty" was nispole-star, and, "duty,*' he frequently
said, " never calls two ways at once." Tliis high sense of duty, and this con-
scientiousness in its discharge, were his leading characteristics. It was
their manifestation in every thing that led his employers to repose the most
unbounded confidence in him. If any mission of trust was to be executed he
was certain to be employed. At a time when police establishments were
yery different in their character from the present, he was frequently made a
special constable. On one occasion he was despatched into Staffordshire
with a warrant for the apprehension of four colliers, with power to engage
such assistance as might be required from the local police. "Without any
assistance, he succeeded by his moral influence alone, in bringing the whole
of the men along with him, and placed them in custody at Stockport. At
another time he had to apprehend a man, whom after some search, he found
mowing in a field. On producing his warrant the man attacked him with
his scythe, and swore he would murder him. The constable fled, but
the moment his pursuer stopped, he stopped also, and commenced rea-
soning with him on the folly and the danger of his conduct. The appeal
was met by another attack, but Mr. HVilson persevered, and finally induced
the man to lay down his weapon, and quietly allow himself to be taken into
custody. Any resort to violence was foreign to his disposition ; he would
treat every man as a reasonable being.

His vi^lance and promptitude of action were on one occasion eminently
useful. He received information from^ the landlord of a public-house -at
Cheadle, that a box had been received there directed for him, " to be left till
called for." On examining it he found it to contain a complete set of the
most formidable burglary instruments. He saw at once how matters stood,
made his arrangements, and the next day arrested two of the most notorious
burglars of that time, one of whom (Hufton White) was afterwards ex-
ecuted for murder.

Such incidents not only illustrate the application of his sense of duty, but
also indicate that both his moral and physical courage were of no mean
order.

A branch of the Stockport Sunday-school was established in the village,
and was chiefly supported by Mr. Wilson's employers — with this he con-
nected himself first as a teacher, and soon after as superintendent. He
formed a very close attachment to it, and though not converted at this time,
made himself exceedingly active and useful. So much were his services
here appreciated, by the late Mr. Robert Parker, his senior employer, that
on one occasion, when Mr. Wilson considering himself aggrieved, had given
notice, that he should at the conclusion of his existing engagement leave
their service, Mr. Parker sent for him to his house, and said, *• Wilson, we
might perhaps manage to do without you here, but we cannot spare you
yonder," pointing to the Sunday-school, and immediately re-engaged him at
an advanced sauiry.

As may be iofeiTcd, his character was solid, serious, earnest. There was
nothing frivolous, or unbecomingly light.

The death of his old friend ^lr, Bell from consumption, aged 25 years, in
the spring of 1810, led to the entire consecration of his heart to God. He

Digitized by VjOOQIC

22 Shgraphy of Mr. William Wilson,

received from his friend, a last, long, affectionate epistle, wbicli ttiade a rerf
deep impression on his mind. An extract from its concluding portion
may be interesting. — " I must beg of you," said he, •• to remember me
to Dixon and Claye (two of his old friends), tell them, 1 wish them
every happiness this world can aflford ; but tell them also, that to serve the
liora while in health and vigour will give more true pleasure than all the
World can produce .... Farewell, my dear friend, if we are to part, do
not lament. I hope we shall be united in a better world. Until then adieu
— may Goa protect you and bless you — may He endow you with every
blessing — ^may He grant you long to live, and bless yon with a family that
flhall spring up like olive plants around your table ; may you live to see
them happy in this world, and when old age warns you that you must quit
this world, may your decline be easy, may your children smooth your bed
of sickness by their kindness ; may the partner of your life depart with you
at the same time, that you may neither of you have the sorrow of parting
from each other, and may you resign your souls into the hands of your
Kedeemer ; this I pray for the sake of Jesus Christ, our blessed Lord and
Saviour. Amen, Adieu, and believe me while I continue to breathe,

" Yours sincerely,

« Wm. Bell.*'

This letter is transcribed in full in his diary. Mr, Wilson was at this
time attending the ministry of the Independents. It is evident that for
Bome time he nad been deeply influenced by religious principles. A copy
of a letter dated September 13th, 1810, addressed Kev. Benjamin Xtayson^
Independent Minister, Wakefield, exhibits the state of his mind at this
period. He says, '* I trust I see the necessity and importance of living
nearer to God, convinced 1 am that it is the one thing needful, and that
only which can give real pleasure.'' In this letter he requests suggestions
as to his government in life, and advise as to joining himself exclusively to
the Wesleyans or Independents. He says, '* Since I first understood any-
thing of religion, I have been attached to the Calvinists. I have in some
measure united myself to them here, by frequenting a Calvinist chapel, and
attending at times a weekly prayer-meeting. I have also lately formed
Bome connections with the Methodists, and have been twice to a class-
meeting. I have considered both, in their religious and domestic capacities^
and find so far as my observations go, that the latter people walk closer to
€k)d." He received a very kind letter of advice in reply, and after maturely
weighing the subject, made his selection.

In his diary, October 23rd, 1810, is the entry :— " Entered myself a
member of the Methodist Society in James Kigby's class ;" and a day or
two later, this, — " Wrote Mr. Taylor a few hasty lines, saying, I had set
out for heaven." Few records of his early religious experience remain, but
in a letter written at this period urging a dear friend to follow his example,
and commence meeting in class, he says, — '^ In my opinion, this is the most
valuable of the means of grace— I have I trust put my hand to the Gospel
plough, and I cannot think of turning back. The little I know of religion
IS, that the pure enjoyment of it is the happiest state I have ever expe-
rienced." He had already, thou^^h in lodgings and unmarried, established
family prayer ; but the change m his heart gave to this a new vitality.
One of his oldest friends and co-workers in the Sabbath-school, Mr. Abel
Wilson of Edgley, thus writes on this subject. — " He now betook himself to
a more vigorous and decided pursuit of religious knowledge. His devotional
exercises particularly in due and regular family form became at once fixed,
and for life, and in their tone showed most clearly, that the steps he had
now taken, and was taking, were not the mere change of religious senti-
ment, but the production oi the grace that had renewed his heart."

" His Sabbath-school engagements (where for many years at that of

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr, William Wilson. 23

Heaton Mersey, he was superintendent), he became more valuable in every
sense; and received an impulse and stamp of quality and usefulness whicU
is reviewed by. a few survivors who retain a high Christian regard for his
memory and real worth, with the happiest recoUections.

** Energetic, — ^possessing much sett^-control— of unflinching integrity —
staunch adherent of rule, with a warm heart and kind and easy manners,
he was beloved by all who were associated with him, and for whom he was
ever ready to do any act dictated by the principles of Christianity, or gentle-
manly kindness. And though during the last forty-six years I have seen
and visited a considerable number of Sunday-schools, I am not aware that I
have met with any, that have given to me clearer evidences of delight^
fill progress in the best direction, than did the one under his superintend*
ence for many years at Heaton Mersey."

Though the Sabbath-school was the principal, it was by no means his
onl^ sphere of usefulness. He was Society steward, treasurer to the Tract
Society, and secretary and treasurer to the Bible Society. And many an
act of kLndness, and many a deed of unrecorded generosity, that thenmarked
his daily life, will only be known at the Great day. His heart and his
hand were alike open, and the helping hand was never wanting to assist
his friends, or relieve the unfortunate. His position enabled him to obtain
situations for relatives and friends ; and not a few he assisted with the
means of commencing business. His own opinion at this time was, that
" he was one of the happiest of men.**

For twenty-one years he was in the service of the firm before alluded to,
and he then became a partner, but about two years after, some disagreement
arose with a new partner, and Mr. TVilson withdrew from the concern in
the year 1825. He then came to Manchester and commenced business here
as a spinner and manufacturer. He joined the Wesleyan Society in Gros«
venor-street Circuit, and was almost immediately appointed a leader. On
the erection of Oxford-road Sunday-school about this time, he became a
conductor there, which office with that oi leader he held till he changed his
residence, and distance led him to resign. He now joined the late Mr.
John Hull's class in the Oldham-street Circuit, 1830, and commenced a
close friendship which afterwards led to his union with the Grosvenor-street
Sunday-school.

He took no active part in the occurrences of 1835, but shortly after, in
1836, united with Mr. Hull and Mr. Kent in the Grosvenor-street Sunday-
schooL What has been the character of his labours here, his punctuality,
his perseverance, his earnest effort, is known and appreciated by those
who were his feUow-labourers. The same principle which was the main-
spring of his early action, continued to animate to untiring exertions for the
good of those around him. Those with whom he was associated, found in
him an able and zealous coadjator ; with no stereotyped views, but ready to
co-operate in any improved plans of usefulness which might be submitted to
him. " He well knew human nature ; and therefore clearly recognised the
necessity of teaching young people, the too much overlooked principles of
obedience and subordination." And many who heard his addresses, will
remember with what force he would urge these principles ; how he would
descant on the pleasures which religion afforded ; with what earnestness he
would warn against evil communications and bad companions j and with a
^race and a beauty peculiarly his own, how he would dwell on the satis-
faction and the blessedness of looking back on a life, spent in the service of
God.

When Mr. Hull withdrew, he was appointed to the charge of his class,
which he met for a number of years, tijil his own removal to Strangeways
led him to resign that duty. But neither distance nor advancing years
could weaken his attachment to the Sunday-school, and who else was

Digitized by VjOOQIC

S4 Biography of Mr: tVtUiam Wilsoiu

absent, he was certain to be present. In the Whitstintide of 1846, he wad
presented along with his colleague Mr. Ash ton, with a very large and
beautiful Bible by the scholara, a circumstance peculiarly grateful to his
mindy and of which he ever cherished a lively remembrance. After his
removal into Strangeways, he continued to attend the Sunday-school with
the same regularity and punctuality as heretofore, and for seven years^
winter and summer, until nis last illness, was in the habit of taking a cold
dinner in the vestry of the school, to enable him to attend the whole of the
day. He was beloved and esteemed by both teachers and scholars. Hi9
gentlemanly and Christian bearing, and his cordial and kindly feeling'
endeared him to them. He always evidenced a sacred regard for the feel-
ings of others, and would make any sacrifice short of that of principle, in
promoting harmony and peace among his fellow-labourers. Even were he
unwittingly to cause pain to the mind of another, he would go out of his
way to set himself right with that individual, and convince him that he
had acted right, and was grieved to have been the cause of pain ; and if
he found that he had been in the fault, he was not wanting in candour,
manliness, and the true spirit of Christianity, to acknowledge that fault.
Such a man was sure to be respected and esteemed ,

During his long illness, he was frequently visited by both teachers and
scholars. This illness commenced with a cold taken at the tea-meetings
held near three years ago when the Rev. John Peters bade farewell to the
Grosvenor-street Circuit, Gradually^ but surely, it took hold of him. For
a long time it was not fully understood, but it finally developed itself in a
slight curvature of the spine. In the earlier stage of his complaint he suf-
fered most acutely; the slightest motion of the body causing intense pain ;
but for a considerable period prior to death this had abated, and in his
usual recumbent position he was tolerably comfortable. Our own minister
the Rev. Wm. Patterson, and others of his old friends formerly in this
Circuit, frequently visited him. When his friends called (and he was
always glad to see them) they found him uniformly cheerful ; not a murmur
was ever known even by his family, to escape his lips ; but resignation in
the highest sense, a cheerfal submission to the will of his heavenly Father
was always evidenced. Mr. George Taylor who took charge of the class
formerly led by Mr. Wilson, was one of his most assiduous visitors.
" Never," says he, "in the couree of my experience have I visited the sick
with so much pleasure and profit as in the case of Mr. Wilson. I never left
him without feeling that 1 had profited by the interview, and the hours
that L have spent with him have been some of the happiest of my life."

When visited by the Sunday scholars he would ^ve them a short address
on the importance of preparing for a future life, while in health and strength,
never failing to enforce on their attention in the most impressive manner,
that nothing but a life spent in the service of God, could afford satisfaction
in a dying hour. That retrospect was eminently his, yet his only hope for
salvation was in the finished work of Jesus Chnst. Then they would sing
several of Ms favourite hymns, and after prayer as they retired, he would
give to those whom he could recollect, an individual word of advice. Some
of these interviews would leave impressions never to be forgotten. Eternity
will reveal their results, and he worked for eternity.

The last of these visits was paid on Sunday, April 27th. The teachers of
the two first classes and about forty of the elder scholars were present.
They sang at hb request that beautiful hymn —

On Jordan*8 stormy banks I stand,

And cast a wishful eye ;
To Canaan's fair and happy land,

Where my possessions lieu

And also several others. His last appeal to them was to do tbeir duty and

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Biography of -Mr. WUUam WUstm. 26

live to '663. 'Hq had been getting weaker for seyeral weekff preTions, and
during that time was carried up and down stairs. On the scholars leaving,
feeling much worse, he was immediately carried to bed, and never rose
again ! He continued to get weaker day after day. Tlie Tuesday follow-
ing was his birth-day. Beceiving the congratulations of his family oa
attaining his 72nd year, — " Thank you," said he, /* but I have no desure to
fiee another." His hold on earth was loosening, that on heaven was
strengthening. His fond attachment to his family seetaied still to mag-
netise his heart to earth, while his strong confidence in the good providence
of God which for so many years mercifully preserved both him and them,
led him to consign them to the care of his heavenly Father. On a member
of .the. family reminding him of that promise, ''I will never leave thee, I
will never forsake thee," with considerable emphasis, he replied, <*That
blessed promise! that blessed promise!" On Sunday May 4th, his last
Sabbath on earth, he made an effort at the evening devotion to join in
singing the words : —

¥1x*d on this grouoA will 1 remain,

Though my heart fail and flesh decay c
This anchor shall my soul sustain,

Though earth's foundations melt away.
Mercy's full power I then shall prove,
LoTed with an everlasting love.

He failed, — his strength was insufficient, he followed only with his heart j
the tones of his musical voice were hushed, while the melody of his heart
rose as sweet incense. His bodily strength diminished day by day, yet
three days only prior to his death he led the family devotions, only resign-
ing his position when it no longer was possible to speak with clearness.
But as his outward man decayed, the inner was renewed day by day, and
the temptations which had appeared to trouble him in the earner part of
his affliction, especially with regard to the vanities of early life, and the
fihortcomings of the later, vanished away. He felt his faith and hope fixed
on the rock of ages, and looked forward with calmness and joy to the ever*
lasting rest prepared for the people of God. On the Saturday he was
thought to be a little easier, and recognised an old scholar who called in
from eleven to twelve. She was his last visitor. He was takinga little
refreshment about half-past one, when a change was perceived. Me was
rapidly sinking to rest. As dies^^the rippling wave upon the shore, or sinks
expiring day to rest) so calmly, so peacefully did his spirit fall in sleep.
jNot a struggle, not a sigh disturbed his last moments. He was spared the
pain of dying ; the change was to him, '* no gloomy pass, but a soft transi-
tion ; " the spirit obeyed the whispered summons, " Come away ; " and his
emancipated soul ascended to be for ever with the Lord !

Thus died Mr. William Wilson on the 10th of May, 1856, aged 72 years
and ten days. ** He rests from his toils, his trials, his anxieties. His earthly
life, chequered by commercial vicissitudes and many trials has ended, and
he has entered on that life of bliss, where son*ow and sighing are unkno\vn.
His course of duty is run, he has reached the goal and received the prize,
and has joined those happ^ spirits with whom he had held such sweet
communion on earth, to unite with them in the raptured song, " To him
that hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath
made us kings and priests unto God, and his Father ; to Him be glory and
dominion for ever and ever." " He rests from his labours, and his works
do follow him." , .

His remains were borne to their long home on the following Friday, fol-
lowed by a large number of friends, and the teachers and elder scholars of
the Sunday-schools. The Rev. T. A. Bayley of Burslem, conducted the
funeral service, assisted by the Rev. Henry Breeden and the Rev. William

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

26 • Biography of Mr, George RippofU

Patterson, and many will long remember the impressive and affeeting ad-
dress on that mournful occasion.

His death was afterwards improved in the Snnday-school by the Rev.
Henry Breeden, and in the chapel on the 2(Hh of July by the Bev. John
Peters of Bury, who forcibly pointed out the lesson which a review of the
life and character of Mr. Wilson presented, and urged on his large oongre*
gation the necessity of living the life of the righteous, that their last end
inay be like his.

Any attempt at a digest of the character of Mr. Wilson would be super-
fluous. The attentive reader is left to draw his own conclusions ; to picture
the life from the incidents related, and to make that life his own, as far as
it is worthy of imitation. W. N, W.

MR. GEORGE RIPPON,

Thk subject of the following short record, was a member of the Wes-
ley an Association Society at South Shields, in which town he was bom in
the year 1796. He served his apprenticeship to the trade of a ship-
carpenter, and at an early age connected himseLf with the choir at the
parish church. Soon after, he commenced an attendance on public worship
ne became seriously concerned about the welfare of his soul, but as his
spiritual knowledge increased, and his religious feelings became more
intense, he grew dissatisfied with the provisions of the parish church ; and
T>elieving that his religious welfare would be better promoted by an
attendance on the Methodist ministry, he united himself with the congre-
gation and society at Chapter-row chapel. Here his spiritual wants were
supplied, and his gracious yearnings resjwnded to, — ana here he continued
to meet in class with Mr. John Reay, with regularity and profit for nine-
teen years— a period of his spiritual history to which he always referred
with gratitude and pleasure.

After this long and happy union with the church, some unpleasant cir-
cumstances connected with a strike among the carpenters led to his separ-
ration from the Society, and resulted in his leaving the way of piety and
of peace. He believed himself unkindly and unjustly treated, — and allow-
ing the irritation of his mind to gain the mastery over his better feelings,
he gradually lost his spiritual strength, and became the victim of tempta-
tions he ought to have resisted and overcome. Drifting farther an-i
farther from the sure and steadfast anchorage of a firm faith, he at last
became associated with unbelieving and scoffing men ; and imbibing their
sceptical notions he at length denied the very truths that had so long
been his safeguard and consolation, and despised those blessed dutiez&
which had been so long his chief delight.

In this period of his history we find him out of the church, and far from
' God ; ana his case may well serve as a solemn warning to all who have to
encounter the dangers of a spiritual crisis, arising from wounded or
offended feeling. That painful things should occur ought not to cause us
any surprise. We may be slandered and injured — we may be deceived
and defamed — where we ought to have sympathy, we may be misunder-
stood and misrepresented, and even a familiar friend may become an un-
scrupulous enemy ; — but all this is no reason why we should abandon our
profession or fail in our faith. The evil doing of others may try oup
tempers, wound our feelings, and almost break our own hearts, — but it
ought not to exhaust our patience or even break our peace.

In the spring of 1832 circumstances took a happy change. He again
obtained a permanent engagement under parties by whom he was re-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Siography of Mr. George Rippon. 27

Bpected, and from tbat time to the period of his death, he continued to
fulfil the duties of his situation to the satisfaction of his employers, and with
the general respect and esteem of all who knew him. About this time,
he appears to have regained his spiritual standing, and found his way back
again to the Sairiour and the church. At the formation of the Wesleyan
Association in 1835, he strongly sympathised with those who felt it their
duty to resist the assumptions o^ Conference domination : and finding
remonstrance and resistance of no avail in securing concession and reform,
a Separate society was formed in South Shields as in many other places,
and with that separated society Mr. Bippon identified himself. He became
a trustee of their chapel, and to the end of his days, he was a cordial sup-
porter of the cause on all occasions and in all respects. As a diligent,
regular attendant on the services of the sanctuary he was a pattern
worthy of universal imitation. He took an earnest interest in everything
he thought likely to promote the permanence and success of the society ;
and in proportion to his means, his pecuniary support was cheerful and
liberal. As a frequent guest at his house, the writer has every reason to
remember him with siucerest respect. It is not every one who is willing
to bear the cost and charge themselves with the iaconvenience of enter-
taining in their houses the men who preach among them the words of
etemju life. Many think it a burden — a tax, an intrusion, and will make
any apology and try any means to transfer the obnoxious duty to others ;
but it was not so with Brother Eippon. He received us not grudgingly,
but willingly ; and the concord and kindliness that prevailed in the family
circle could not fail to inspire respect for him who stood at its head.

Brother Bippon finished his earthly course under circumstances of a
very painful description. He departed this life almost as suddenly as if
he had fallen by the well-aimed shot of a musket, or by the subtle omni*>
potence of lightning. His employment as a coal-waggon-wright, fre-
quently rendered it necessary that he should pass to and fro on those lines
of railway which are used for the conveyance of coals from the pits, to the
port where they are shipped for transit to the various markets. He left
his home on the 18th of December 1855, in his usual robust health, with
every appearance of returning in safety as heretofore, but instead of
re-appearing safe and sound, to receive and respond to the welcome of his
family circle, he was brought back to his dwelling silent, unconscious,
motionless, dead ! The last enemy had met him in the way, and without
warning or pity had laid him low. After spending a night from home in the
neighbourhood of Shotley-bridge, he was on his return, and availing him-
self of the coal waggons, a kind of conveyance with which he was quite fami-
liar, by some unaccountable inadvertency, he got into a position in which
there was no escape either from a fatal blow on the head, or an equally
fatal crush between two waggons. In trying to avoid the former he fell a
victim to the latter, and without uttering a word " he ceased at ouce to work
and live." To surviving relatives such an end was extremely distressing ;
' — cutting off as it did all possibility of manifesting those tender attentions
we are so desirous of bestowing on those who are about to leave us, never
to return. No farewell prayers responded to by farewell blessings — no
solemn interchange of final recognitions were allowed to mark his final
hour ; — and grace alone can enable those who are called to bear the bitter-
ness of so painful a providence, to say with painful acquiescence, " Even
80, Father, for so it seemeth gool in thy aght."

In concluding this brief sketch, it may be freely admitted that Brother
Rippon's character was sometimes in danger of being misunderstood;
There was a certain roughness of manner, and occasionally an explosive-
ness of feeling and a freeness of speech, which to a stranger might seem
scarcely compatible with courtesy or the meekness of wisdom ; but not-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

2s Review nnd ■ Criticism,

withstanding these defects, a long acquaintance has left in the -mind- of th^
writer a conviction that " the root of the matter was in him ; " and in this
persuasion he is joined most cordially by those to whom the departed was
most intimately known. The writer endeavoured to improve the sad event
by a sermon on the insecurity of human life, in Brother Bippon's accua-r
tomed place of worship, and to the reader he would propound for solemn
reflection the question contained in the text used for the occasion, — ;
" What is your life ? It is even a vapour that appeareth for a little time,
and then vanisheth away V* Aquila Keenb. .

WILLIAM FIELDEN, TOBMORDEN.

Died in the faith, May 80, 1854, William Fielden, of Todmorden. Oar
departed brother was characterized in early youth, by a quiet obedience to his
parents, and by strong affection for his mother, who after much sufferings died
in peace, when her son was in his eighteenth year. William was brought to a
saving knowledge of Christ, a little before her death. For several years he
pursued the noiseless tenor of his way, giving evidence to those about him, by
a blameless walk and conversation, that he had passed from death unto life.
But an enemy waylaid him, and well nigh effected his ruin. The writings of
Joseph Barker attracted his attention ; like hundreds besides him, he was
charmed with their apparent excellence ; the subtle poison that kills the soul,
was stealthily and slily mixed up with the weekly potations of that minister of
Satan, and before William was fully aware of the mischief, he was shorn of
his strength, and robbed of his best jewels. Man's conduct Is mightily influ-
enced by his belief. Nothing tends so powerfully to promote a pure morality
as the religion of Christ, there's nothing like it for makiog good husbands and
fathers, and worthy citizens. This sad change in his views brought sorrow and
confusion into his peaceful abode, and he narrowly escaped being carried down
the whirlpool of dissipation and death ; but he who had been the guide of his
Youth, pitied his erring child, and by means of a severe attack of mental and
bodily affliction, plucked him as a brand from the burning. He was restored
to the joy of 6od*s salvation, and for the last three years of his mortal life^
laboured to make reparation both to his fellow creatures, and the injured inter-
ests of religion, for the wrong he had done ; his Lord forgave him, but he
could never, even to his dying day, forgive himself. This slip caused him to
walk in comparative heaviness, the remainder of the way that lay between him
and his Father's house. But the conflict was destined to be but brief, he
was again suddenly laid on the bed of suffering, and in ten days, brain
fever had executed its commission, and the pilgrim was at rest.
This languishing head is at rest,

Its thinking and aching are o'er;
This quiet immovable breast
Is heaved by affliction no more.

Todmordetif Nov, 3, 1856.

REVIEW AND CRITICISM.

Voices of Many Wate%s, By Rev. T. W. Aveling* Second
Edition. Revised and Corrected. London : John Snow, Pater-
noster-row.

This is the title of a very agreeable and instructive book of
Travels from the pen of the Rev. T. W. Aveling, a minister of cou-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Review and Criticism. 29

siderable rank in the Nonconformist Body. Sickness, it appears,
obliged the excellent Author to desist for some months from the
labonrs of the Pulpit, and to go in quest of health through the lands
watered hj the Tiber, the Jordan, and the Nile. The present pub-
lication is the result of observations made bj this gifled individual,
while sojourning amid the ruins of ancient empires, on the banks of
tbese rivers. He supplies us with Shadows of the Past, Sketches of
the Present, and Dawnings of the Future, in relation to some of the
most charming countries on the face of the earth. His accurate
pencil has sketched Switzerland, Italy, Naples, and Sicily ; Malta,
Egypt, and the Holy Land. At one time, our Author conducts us
along the Plains of Lombardy. whose dead level for miles and miles
is only broken by the capaniles of its beautiful churches. At an-
other, he leads us through the streets of Rome, suggesting to us, as
we pass along, the amazing contrast that obtains between their pre-
sent lifelessness with the bustle and activity which prevailed when
ancient Rome

" Kept the world awake with lustre and with noise."

We are not long in the imperial city before he conducts as over the
dust of Empire up the ascent to the Vatican. Here we are taken at
one time to the Cortile di Belvidere, with its chambers filled with the
chief gems of the Vatican. At another, to the Laocoon, so wonderful
in expression, that some regarding it in a merely artistic view, have
preferred it to the Apollo Belvidere. Next, he introduces us to the
Etruscan Room, with its sarcophagi — its fac similes of Etruscan
tombs, its suspended Vases and other vessels once used as receptacles
of the dead, and its bracelets, armlets, necklaces, broaches and ear-
ings of gold, — the treasured vestiges of Etruscan splendour. He
introduces us to the Pantheon, the Castle of St. Angelo, and St.
Peter's ; he takes us to the Capitol, whence we behold the Modern
City — ^whence objects already viewed are seen with increased interest
in the distance : '^ the long line of the Corso dividing it into two
parts, with the Antoniac column mid-way between us and the Porta
del Popolo, which terminates the street. From hence, we gaze on
the Appen nines. After the eye has swept along the chain of moun-
tains southward, in the direction of Albano, passing Tivoli, Palnes-
trina and Frascati, it takes in the wide expanse of the Campagna,
crossed and re crossed by long lines of aqueducts, running from the
mountains up to the walls of the city, and marked here and there
by tombs in the Appian way. Inside the Porta San Giovanna are
seen the turrets of St. John Lateran ; nearer still the magnificent
Coliseum and the arches of Constantino and Titus, while at our feet
on the South-east lies the whole space of the Forum, with its few
but glorious remains. The eye then passes in succession to the
Baths of Caracalla, and the Palace of the CaBsars, and glancing
along the brow of the Janiculum, finally rests on the dome of St.
Peter's and the Castle of St. Angelo." From the Capitol he takes
us to the Tarpeian rock, and thence descending towards the Fo-
rum to a group of ruins below the Capitol. Here we behold

Digitized by VjOOQIC

30 Review and Criticism.

the Arch of Severus — ^the Church of St. Joseph, and the Mamertine ,
Prisons — two chambers hewn out of the solid rock, lined with un-
cemented stones, and evidently of great antiquity. Mr. A. says
in respect of these prisons : — " Of course, a place like this is devoutly
believed to have been honoured by the imprisonment of St. Peter,
and the pillar to which he was chained is shown ; as also the plaee
where a fountain sprung out miraculously to enable him to baptize hia
jailor. Unfortunately for this legend, there is not the slightest
reliable evidence that Peter ever was at Borne, Paul was there, we
know, and probably in this very prison ; but he would not sufficiently
suit Roman Catholic exigencies." His description of Rome is lively
and charming in a very high degree. The life-like character of the inci-
dents and the rapid march of the narrative, combined with the historic
interest associated with all the descriptions of Italy and the other lands
named, throw a peculiar charm over this book of Travels, no matter
whether the incidents occur in the Desert, or the scenes are laid on the
banks of the Tiber, the Jordan, and the Nile. We have only space for
two or three selections, and we proceed at once to bring them under
the notice of our readers. The first is from a chapter entitled —

PAUL ON MAKS' HILL.

If a scholar had been asked in Paurs days, where, among ancient people,
learning had enthroned itself in the highest places, and men most cele-
brated for their intellectual prowess were to be found, he would have
pointed to Athens ; — a city that was supposed to be under the special
tutelage of Minerva, the Goddess of Wisdom. There the halls of science,
and the schools of philosophy, were thronged with the youth of many
countries, who, drawn by the fame of their teachers, had traversed seas and
lands, to sit at their feet, and catch from their lips the priceless instructions
of profound knowledge and rich experience. Sages, historians, orators,
poets, congregated there, as to the metropolis of thought, and poured forth
the dazzling effusion of genius ; bringing up from the mines of wisdom,
precious ores, wherewith to enrich the world, and flin^ng over all the
subjects they touched, the glowing hues that radiate from imperial imagina^
tions ; kindling in the souls of their auditors, rapture and awe ; awakening
the highest conception of the powers of the mind ; and proving how in*
finitely the spiritual in man excels the physical, and that while the latter
is bounded by invisible chains, and moves within prescribed and impassable
limits, the soul spurns them all ; leaping over the barriers of time and
space ; careering with unfettered wing through the universe j scanning
with inquisitive eye, all objects ; and only pausing in its bold and rapid
flight, when it attempts to find out God. -

They were surrounded by a thousand objects that were calculated to
awaken the loftiest emotions. The infinite depths of the blue, cloudless
heavens, that overshadowed them ; their own glorious land that stretched
around them, in mingled magnificence and beauty, kissed bjr the ever-em-
bracing sea ; a thousand spots baptizing with thrilling associations ; not a
stream that had not been immortalized in poetry, nor a grove, whose name
was not redolent with some enchanting remembrances ; here a place where
liberty had successfully contended wiSi despotism ; there a hill, a rock, a
mountain, supposed to be the chosen haunts of the gods, who were esteemed
the friends and watchful guardians of Athens or of Greece ; all these
breathed inspiration into the soul of the bard, the warrior, and the sage.

Yet here, where mind had so wonderfully displayed its power, and
achieved such splendid triumphs; within sight of the- Academia, where

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Review and Criticism, 31

Plato had tanght his divine lore ; and of the Agora, where Socrates had
uttered words of wondrous wisdom to the listening and idolising youth o^
his heloved city; close to the Lyceum, where Aristotle had lectured to
admiring disciples; and the Bema, whence Demosthenes had harangued
the multitude, in burning words that quicken men's souls even at this
far-distant time ; an obscure stranger, whose name had never been heard
in that polite and learned city — alone, and unbefriended, boldly charges
the ascendants of these illustrious men with ignorance, profound and affect*
ing, upon a subject of all others the most vitally important. They knew
not God ; and without a knowledge of Him, however profound their wis-
dom, all was of little value. Learning, without this divine lore, may be
beautiful as the moonlight radiance ; but, like that, it is destitute of warmth
and vitality. It may illuminate the intellect, but it cannot act and react
upon the priceless soul within. Led by the Divine hand, the great Apostle
of the Gentiles had left Berea, a city of Macedonia, and come to Athens.
There, waiting for Silas and Timotheus, his two companions in travel and
labour, he wandered through the streets of this renowned city ; a place,
which, to a man of his acquirements and habitudes of thought, could not
fail to be attractive. Though the teacher of a nobler wisdom than Athens
had yet kno^n, he could not be unmindful of the fact, that some of the
glorious master-spirits, which had hitherto ruled the world of mind, had
taught there ; and made memorable the garden, the portico, and the banks
of the stream along which he walked. '' But his spirit was stirred in him^
when he saw the city wholly given to idolatry."

Temples to the deities they delighted most to honour, were found on all
sides ; the glittering marble columns of some, rising in lofty magnificence
upon and around uie Acropolis, crowned — as hill never before nor since
has been crowned — with buildings, which were the very perfection of art,
and worthy of the admiration of all ages ; and some gleaming within
olive groves, that waved white in the sunbeams, and echoing the low
music of the ripplings of the Ilissus. Altars sprung up at almost every
step, dedicated to some of their thirty thousand deities; while for the
living and true God, neither temple rose, nor altar flamed, nor priest
appeared, to demand men's homage, and solicit their love. Of Him they
livid in profound ignorance. He was not in all their thoughts. ''The
world by wisdom knew not God." Though heaven and earth spake of
Him, they understood not their language ; the Divine voice was lost in
the Babel sounds that were floating around them.

No wonder the heart of Paul beat with the tenderest compassion for those
he met. Intellectual dignity was stamped upon their brow ; they trod the
earth with the step of men who understood liberty, and knew its priceless
worth ; men who had a history of which they might be proud ; men who had
done all that mortal unassisted mind can do, to free the soul from fetters,
and teach it to use its godlike faculties aright, and on fitting themes ; and
yet they were the bond-slaves of a degrading superstition; they were
terribly, torturingly ignorant of the highest truth : they knew not GoD.
Around them, and above them, were signs and wonders. Order, beauty,
adaptation, and harmony, were visible to the material universe. They
gazed, awed, and delighted ; but no voice told them of Him, who formed
and regulated all things for His own glory. The spell of ignorance was
upon them ; and as yet no one had appeared to dissolve it, and bless the
struegling spirit with freedom. Life was a mystery ; they were a mystery
to themselves; and the key to both had not yet been discovered. They
knew not whence they were, nor whither they were going. Dim, deepening
shadows hung around the past ; and a darker, deeper gloom covered the
future.

Among any men, the existence of such a state of things was to be de«

Digitized by VjOOQIC

32 'Review and Criticism.

plored; among the Athenians, especially so. The Barbarians sat en-
sconced in sensualism, that deprecated disturbance; but the Greeks had
risen to a realization of the higher enjoyment that springs from mental
activity. They had striven to emancipate themselves from spiritual dark-
ness, but their chains were too iirmly riveted ; they struggled after light,
but were still enveloped in gloom ; they had groped after Truth, if haply
they might find her ; but although often near her temple, they failed to find
the door of entrance ; and the echoes of her voice, that from time to time
reached their ears, only added to their perplexity. The Apostle's soul
yearned over them. He had, probably, known the thirstings after know-
ledge, which had not been satisfied ; the eager intense longings after some
clue to the explanation of mysteries, which yet remained involved in
obscurity ; and he could thus sympathize with them in tJieir ignorance
of the most solemn and necessary truths.

With what a thrill of joy, therefore, must he have embraced the occasion
presented to him by the invitation of some of the Athenian philosophers
for expounding the great, yet simple truths of revealed religion. Now
would a voice be heard, that should arouse men from the slumber of ages ;
now declarations be made that should revolutionize tbeir modes of thought ;
rays of light be flung upon the objects of external nature, which should
invest them with additional interest and beautv ; while the world within
their hearts should be revealed in all its wondrous features; and heights
and depths be unveiled, of the existence of which they had never before
conceived ; all tending to lead men from the deification of self to f6el the
lowest humility and self-abasement, and to turn them from " Gods many,
and Lords many," to bow with the profoundest adoration, before the ** King^
eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God.**

The other is a passage on the interest associated with those cele-
brated rivers of the ancient world —

THE KILE; TBB JORDAN; AKD THE TIBER.

The lands of the Tiber, the Jordan, and the Nile, are invested with a
deep and undying interest, as the ^enes of the most striking events that
have ever occurred in the history of the world. The very names of these
rivers, as they float around us in sacred or classic song, or greet the ear
in the less impassioned tones of the historian, have a charm to which the
soul of the scholar, the antic^narian, or the Christian, yields with delight ;
and call up a host of such mingled and startling associations as belong to
no other streams within the eastern or western hemisphere. The reflec-
tive traveller, as he wanders along their banks, hears, in the murmurs of
their glancing waters, living voices that seem to proclaim incessantly to
the world the mighty and imperishable deeds of which they have been
witnesses, and that have attracted to the countries through which they
flow, the attention of every student of history. A rapid glance at these
three rivers— not in the geographical order in which they are found, with
respect to this country, but according to the antiquity of their recorded
history, may not be an unfitting prelude to the details that follow.

In ascending the Nile, we advance towards the primeval course of
civilization and government ; light upon the first schools of science and
art, and discover one of the chief birthplaces of the religions of men.
There we reach the most ancient seats of JPolytheism, and enter the very
aditum of the temple, whence issued most of the gods that Greece and
Rome in after ages adored. Standing before the pyramids of the desert
and the temples of Upper Egypt, a shadowy procession of priests and
"^kings— the cunning and the strong — passes before us ; with an iunumier-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Sitiew and Criiietsm, 33

able mulUtttde of people chained to the chariots of their rulers, and by
force or fraud made to minister to their lust of power.

Those gigantic structures— which form such prominent objects in the
landscape, as the voyager sails along the river, and which seem to bid
defiance to the hand of time, and to that of a still ^eater spoiler— man, —
while they proclaim, with trumpet-tongue, the bold and grand conceptions
of their founders, speak also of the utter disregard of princes for their
people ; and are but mighty monuments of a lofty ambition, that, vaulting
into high places, cared not how many were overthrown by its movements,
how many homes were made desolate, or living hearts crushed. While in
musing amid the ruins of some of the most magDificent temples the world
ever saw, and tracing the sculptured similitudes of other days, one is irre-
sistibly compelled to recognize the appalling truth of the sacred writer,
that " the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty ; "
and that when men " change the glory of the incorruptible Qod into an
image like to corruptible men, and to birds, and to four-footed beasts, and
creeping things, God will give them up to uncleanness, through the lusts of
their own hearts." The records of ancient Egyptian life, as they come
before us in temple and tomb, are among the most painful and instructive
confirmations of the scrupulous verity of the Holy Scriptures. The
different phases of social existence, that presented tnemselves from the
times of the Pharoahs to the Ptolemy s, and from these to the more modem
Turk, have left their traces, not merely in the sculptured and painted me-
morials of the past, but in the seemingly inefi&ceable chaoracteristics,
mental and physical, which are reflected in the appearance, the habits,
and thoughts of the present generation. The same remark applies to other
lands of the £ast as well as to Egypt ; the stereotjrped character of the
people and their customs being one of the most marked peculiarities of
oriental countries, which thus present living commentaries upon that
grandest record of Eastern persons and manners— the Bible.

We pass from the Nile, and after crossing the arid desert, over which
once moved the mystic pUlar of cloud and fire, and along whose bosom
flowed the miraculous rock-bom stream, and traversing the ragged
mountain-path of Judea, find ourselves on the banks of the Jordan, among
a different race of people, and amid other and more agreeable aspects of
the physical creation. There every spot has its tale of wonder ; every
valley or hill claims to be the scene of some miracle of mercy or judgment ;
and all speak of a land that has been the abode of a wonderful nation, and
that has witnessed a more extraordinary state of things than Egypt ever
knew. There existed a true theocracy, God becoming to men Ruler, Guide,
and Guard; the people dwelling under a government based upon the
highest principle; every law emanating direct from Jehovah himselfl
"Thy land, O Immanitbl!" — Angels' feet have trodden its soil : over its
plains the audible harmonies of heaven have rolled ; while on its winds,
for many generations, have been borne the voices of inspired prophets,
announcing their message from God to man. Above all, there dwelt and
taught the Incarnate One — ''God manifest in the flesh;" breathing
around him the influences of heaven, rebuking guilt by his purity, irre-
liglon by his piety, selfishness by his self-denial, and hypocrisy by his
transparent honesty ; lightening the burdens of humanity by words of
flfympathy and deeds of goodness ; kindling in the souls of men a new and
glorious life, and waking up their slumbering powers to an imitation of
himself— a display of the godlike in spirit, temper, heart, and life. Here,
too, yet again, are wondrous events to transpire. The soberest inter-
preters of prophecy are constrained to lay their finger on the place which
Syria occupies in the map of the world as the spot where occurrences of a
most extraordinary character are yet to be seen, and thus the prophetic

Digitized by VjOOQlC

34 Rmew £Md Criiieiim*

future^ as well as the wondrotur past) iavesta that land with an intercBt
that does not attach iteelf to any other country nnder heaven.

Again, we pass onward, and crossing that "great and wide sea,** of which
David sang, and whose historical importance distinguishes it above all
others on the face of the globe, we reach the European shores, and light on
a people whose name is a synonyme for valour and strength ; who, on the
banks of the Tiber, reared so mighty a system of government^ and so
widelv extended their empire that never until the days in which we now
live, did the world witness aught that was paralleL There was nurtured
a patriotism so stem, that even the gentlest and holiest emotions of our
common nature were made to bow to its dictates, and Homan honour and
justice became a proverb^ as well and widely understood as Roman valour
had made itself Miown. Here, too, were kindled many of the most glo-
rious lights of the intellectual world, that shone with a full and brilliant
lustre, at a time when our British forefathers were rearing their rude huts
in the shadow of mighty forests, and oflfering human victims on Druidical
altars. Poetry, philosophy, oratory, found a home within the circle of the
seven hills on the banks of the Tiber, and— so widely had their influence
spread — were honoured as much in the house of the plebeian as in the
palace of the patrician. As Athens fell. Home arose ; the sun that was
partly set on the Acropolis^ continued to shine in full splendour on the
Capitol ; and Cicero in the lorum, Yirgil at Oaosar's board, and Seneca in
the household of Nero, were to Home what Demosthenes, pouring forth his
burning words and electrifying an Athenian audience; Homer, singmg his
wild and wondrous lays to Grecian leaders and princes ; and Plato, dis-
coursing in the shadow of the temples, or wandering in the groves of
Academus, on the banks of the Ilyssus, — had been to its more ancient
rival. ** Italia I too, Italia I looking on thee.

Full flashes on the soul the light of ages.

Since the fierce C&rthaginian almost won theb.

To the last halo of the chiefs and sages.

Who glorify thy consecrated pages ;

Thou wert the throne and grave of ei^pii«s ; still

The fount at which the panting mind assuages

The thirst of knowledge, quaffing there her fill.

Flows from the eternal source of Rome*s imperial hill."

What student of history has not cherished the desire to walk and muse
by these mighty streams ? to stand upon the spots which have been dis-
tinguished by heroic deeds, or consecrated to religious worship ? to gaze
upon the stupendous ruins of palaces, temples, and pyramids, that are even
now regarded as the marvels of human skill,-- and which) almost coeval
with the birth of nations, have witnessed the march of thirty centuries ? to
become familiar with the scenes that have been immortalized by the pen
of the historian or the poet 1 and most of all to tread in the footprints of
the Divine Kedeemer, who, when veiling his essential glory, walked among
men in the land which he hallowed by his presence and baptized by hia
tears?

Such desires I had often cherished, and circumstances unexpectedly
led to their realization. The reeord of what was seen and felt during a
sojourn of nine months in Italy, Egypt, and the Holy Land, is given in the
following pages, and the reader is Invited to wander along with me and
listen to the echoes of the past, and the utterances of the present, as they
greet the contemplative traveller in the " Voices of Han't Waters."

We take leave of our Author with sincere regret. His volume is
one of the most refreshing Books of Travel it was our fortune ever
to fall in with. " The Voices of Many Waters " that will long sur-
vive to kindle new interest in inquiring minds.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Beview <mi CrUteum. 46

TkB Bards tf EpworA. Londoii : HbtXiIN, 2^^^ Patemostor^ow.

This is the title of a volume of poetic gems from the Weiley
Cabinet. The Authors are the Revds. S. Weslej, semr., M.A., S.
Wesley, jun., M.A., Charles Wesley, M.A„ John Wesley, M.A., and
IVliss Mehetabel Wesley. These compositions comprehend great vaiietj
of subject, and many of them are of more than ordinary merit. Take
as an example that from the pen of Charles Wesley^ on

THE SOCJL.

If for a world a soul be lost,

Who can the loss supply?
More than a thousand worlds it cost,

One single soul to buy.

Take also the following from the pen of Mehetabel Wesley (Mrs.
Wright), entitled

A mother's address to a dying infant.

Tender softness t infiEmtmild!
Perfect, purest, brightest child !
Transient lustre ! Mauteous clay !
Smiling wonder of a day !
Ere the last conyulsive start,
Rends thy unresisting heart ;
Ere the lon^ enduring swoon
Weighs thy precious eyelids down.
Oh, regard a mother's moan,
Anguish deeper than thine own.

Fairest eyes whose dawning light,
Late with rapture blest my sight,
Ere your orbs extinguished be,
Bend their trembling beams on me !
Drooping sweetness ! verdant flower I
Blooming, withering, in an hour !
Ere thy gentle breast sustains.
Latest, fiercest, mortal pains,
Hear a suppliant ! let me be
Partner in thy destiny !
That whene'er the fatal cloud
Must thy radiant temples shroud ;
When deadly damps impending now.
Shall hover round thy destined brow,
DiflFusive may their influence be,
And with the blossmn blast the ti'ee /

The reader will be interested in the perusal of this Book of Grems.

7%e Unity of the Faith. London : Johnt Snow, Patemoster-row.

A very excellent work which finds, the Unity of the Faith in Christ, as
tbe mam^tation of God in all ages. Seldom has an author compressed
into smaller space a larger amount of essential truth than this volume
contains.

The Piotis Hawker. London : Hetlin, 28, Paternoster-row.

This little work contains a Bio^phical Sketch of John Horsely, late of
Nottingham. The history of this devoted man is singularly illustrative of

J> 2

Digitized by VjOOQ'lC

36 Review and Criticism,

the power of Blyine grace in the hnmblest walks of life. To the spiritnal-
minded reader it wiU be found to be an interesting and truly yaluable pro-
duction.

Christian Union. London: Wertheim and Macintosh, 24,
Paternoster-row.

A Tract on Christ's last prayer, as recorded in the 17th chapter of John
and the contrast between the present aspect of the Church, and the state
of things therein desired. This is a yery seasonable publication, but the
author wiU be thought by most persons to inyeigh too much against the
present condition of the Church.

The Brother Born for Adversity, London : John Snow, Pater-
noster-row.

This excellent book attempts to trace out the similarity of the Saviour's
sorrows and sufferings to those of his followers, and the adaptation of the
truth and grace of Christ to all the circumstances of God*s people. The
greater part of this little work appeared originally in the columns of the
" Witness," and excited so much interest among its readers as to induce the
republication with additions in the present form. Seldom have we seen a
publication more adapted to minister consolation to the distressed believer
than " the Brother Born for Adversity."

Notes on Original Words, London: D. F. Oaket, 10, Pater-
noster-row.

The above is the title of a publication of Philological Arguments, ad-
dressed to Bible students especially. The work appears anonymously,
but it is obviously the production of a person of some attainments. It
will be read by the Bible student with interest.

Suggestions for Christian Union, London : D. F, Oaket, 10,
Paternoster- row.

Such is the designation of a work from the Minister of the Church of Eng-
land, which is devoted to the promotion of union among the various sects
of professing Christians in this country. The object of the amiable Author
will command the approval of Christians generally, though they may have
small hopes of his success.

Jesus Revealing the Heart of God. Edinburgh : Thos. C. Jack.
London : James Nisbet and Co.

This is a Reprint from the " Quiet Hours " by the Rev. John Pulsford.
It is an eminently pious and useful little volume.

The Image of the Invisible God, London : D. A. Oaket, Pater-
noster-row.

A work in which the life of Christ is viewed in relation to the promise,
that the saints shall be partakers of the Divine nature.

The Electro-Chemical Bath. By J. J. Caplin, M.D. London :
Freeman, Fleet-street.

This is a brief treatise on what is believed by its author to be a great
discovery in the healing art Two things have engaged the special atten-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Short Sermon upon Diotrephes. 87

tion of its learned author. First, the nature of the Electro-Chemical Bath,
and its operation on the human organism, and secondly, the practical test
of his means as demonstrated on Uie patients who have had treatment in
the Bath. The work deserves the attention of the public.

The Controversy, What results f London : Fjieemax, Fleet-street.

This is a Tract written with considerable ability by John Little, B.A., on
the subject of " the Controversy,*' now prevailing in the Independent Body.
In common with most persons we deplore the necessity for such a publica-
tion.

PUBLICATIONS KECEIVED.

The Burning Spirit. London: Cooke, Warwick Lane.
Memoir of Hutton. London : Hamilton, Adams, and Co.
Grammar, by W. ^iug' London : Houlston and Stoneman.
One Hundred Psalm Tunes, by W. S. Young. London : Sunday-school
Union.

SHORT SERMON UPON DIOTREPHES.

" I wrote unto the church ; but Diotrephes, who loved to have the pre-
eminence among them, received us not." — (3 John 9.)

Macknight's translation reads, '^ I should have written," &c. Either
translation sufficiently shows us the mischievous influence of this ambitious
spirit in the church.

In one case, he prevented an inspired apostle from sending the church
a letter. In the other he nullified the letter actually sent.

DocTRiiTB. — Many a minister's labours are nullified by a Diotrephes in
his church.

L I will first show you who is not a Diotrephes.

1. Not he whose godly walk and conversation secures for him the
entire confidence of the brethren, and thus gives him great influence.

2. Nor he whose talents and education necessarily make him a man of
influence.

3. Nor he whose well-known and oft proved wisdom and prudence make
him much sought unto in counsel

These men generally do not seek influence. It is unavoidable. It
follows them as their shadow.

II. I proceed, in the second place, to show who Diotrephes is.

1. Sometimes he is a man who never had his will broken. As a child,
he expected the whole household to give way to him^ As a church
member he expects the household of Christ to give way to him. He is
wUfnl and heaastrong ; often as unreasonable as a mere animal.

2. Sometimes he is a man of wealth. His riches give him authority in
the world, and he takes it for granted they ought to do so in the church.
He cannot at all comprehend the idea that the vote and opinion of his poor
brother are worth as much as his own. He is verily persuaded that
because he had^been a great worldling, and scraped together much wealth,
the household of Christ ought to defer to him.

3. Sometimes he is a man of some learning and much volubility, who
fancies that his capacity ought to cive his 'opinion authority.

III. In the third place, I proceed to seti forth Diotrephes in action. If
the minister do not take him for counsellor, he is his enemy. His
preaching is not right. His measures are not right. '<His usefulness
IS at an end." In questions of policy in the church, he never suspects that .
there are others whose opinions should carry as much weight as his own.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

S8 Ambition.

The will of the majority is no rule for him. With every movement
does he find fault, unless he originated it.
IV. In the next place, I remark on Diotrephes' character.

1. He is very unlike Christ, who was meek and lowly,

2. He is very forgetful of the word, " Let each esteem others better than
himself."

3. He is against that equality which Christ established in his church.

FBACnCAIi OBSSRVATIONS.

1. Diotrephes is most of the time in trouble ; always looking for deference,
he is seldom likely to get it.

2. The church can take no surer road to trouble than to give way to
Diotrephes.

3. Diotrephes will scarce be the friend of the minister. The natural
influence of the religious teacher disturbs him.

4. It is best for the hearer to look for Diotrephes in his own pew.
Perhaps he may find him in his own seat.

AMBITION.

The various faculties, and feelings of man, are beautifhlly adapted to
each other. His vast intellect enables him to discover in, and obtam from
Nature's bounteous store, the food upon which he may ^row, and the deli-
cacies upon which he may luxuriate. But their qualities could not be
appreciated by man, if he possessed moral and intellectual faculties only.
Had he no appetite, he would never desire to taste the fruits which cluster
so profusely around him. And even if he did, he could not enjoy them,
unless he had a palate to relish their sweetness. But in man's intellect and
heart, faculties, and feelings, co-exist, and may, and naturally do co-operate.
When his eye rests upon beauty — his enamoured heart beats high with admi-
ration. When a labyrinth is presented, — he is impatient to explore its intri-
cate windings. When he perceives aught superior to or beyond himself — ^he
aspires, he is ambitious, to reach, to obtain it.

There is a general prejudice against ambition. Many great evils are
described, as its natural and necessarv developements. Some assert that
it is incompatible with the first essential to happiness— contentment ; some
contend that, leading its victim to grasp at objects too high, too mighty, to
be obtained, it urges nim up to the fatal ascent, till, blinded by his Utopian
fancy, he falls headlong into the gulf of ruin and despair ; while others
point out as its natural results, international encroachments, wars, slavery,
and human degradation. Ambition is not the cause of the evils, thus in-
stanced ; for it is not a guiding^ but an impelling power. It exerts the same
force, whether pursuing a good or an evil object. Judgment, — enlightened
by revelation, and quickened by conscience — is the pilot which should deter-
mine the course. When the proper pilot is supplanted, a wrong course is
pursued, and disastrous effects ensue. And thus, although the mind may
sometimes be fearfully engulphed, in the whirlpool of error and crime, yet it is
not, strictly speaking, caused by ambition, — for the same mind would have
been impelled with an equal impetus, into the haven of virtue and truth.

Ambition depends upon imagmation. From the experience of the past —
its successive stages to the present,— its gradual transitions from utter igno-
rance to various degrees of knowledge, — are collected those inferences, by
which the imagination is equipped for its journey into the future, to dis-
cover better and brighter regions. To this it is prompted by ambition,
which is never satisfied Vfith what is already possessed. It contmudly ini«

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Ambition* 89

pelis to something new. It seems as if lured onward by some invisible
attraction, — some perfect beauhr in some ethereal region, — ^immeasurably
distant in the future. Let tne thoughts be concentrated upon things
present— endeavour but to enlist imagination in some affair of time-
serving expediency — and ambition will cause throbbings, feeble at
first, as though it were longing to approach some celestial choir, by whose
thrilling melody it is enraptured ; the impatience will increase as its wak-
ening ear rings more and more with the exciting music, until, break-
ing through all resistance, it drives forward its necessary companion,
imagination, to prosecute its natural exploration. So great is the mutual
affinity, and love of these two powers, that they become moulded into one
—inseparable in operation and success. With these in a healthy condition,
man cannot stand still. They are the originators, and the pioneers of pro-
gress. They continually force him onward and upward. When unrestrain-
ed and uncorrupted, they soon pass from the dull swamps of mortal
corporealities, to those genial and fruitful regions, where knowledge is sought
for its own sake, and good pursued because it is right. The sensual de-
lights, the vanities, and expediences of this grovelling world, are things,
too confined, too mean, too fleeting, for an healthy ambition. It longs to
rove through the universe ; it would pine away, were it limited to one point
of existence. It attaches itself to that which is noblest and brightest. It
passes with disdain the highest eminences attained by the greatest heroes
of tMs lower world ; and aspires to stand upon the highest summit of the
heavenly mountains. It passed the bounds of time, in the first stage of its
existence, and is now drinking from eternal fountains. The knowledge
it seeks out and imbibes, the principles it embraces, the holiness it attains,
serve only to give keenness to its appetite, and enlargement to its capacity.
Its visionary landscape not only lengthens but widens. It not only becomes
more intense, but more diverse. Its progressive capacity can be satisfac-
torily supplied only from infinite plenitude, and boundless variety. In each
succeeding stage of life, the loftiest apex, the brightest spot, the loveliest
demesne, appear to be perfection itself; but ere they can be reached, the
veil which obstructed its extended prospect is removed, disclosing summits
so transcendent, centres radiating such effulgent glory, that the former
gradually dwindle into complete insignificance. Ambition, then, is essen-
tially prospective, naturally exalted, infinitely diverse, insatiable, and
progressive. It developes every other glory j and b itself the crowning
glory of the mind.

To what objects, then, should it be directed ? What will most promote
its pure, and free action ? We answer, Wisdom and Holiness ; for they alone
require the full operation, and procure the utmost and progressive develop-
ment of man's noblest and most enduring — his moral and intellectual—
powers. All other objects are unworthy its natural dignity, degrading to
its aspiring character. When confined to the sterile soil of earth it be-
comes weak, shrivelled, and noxious, but in its native soil, it thrives in im-
mortal vigour ; and nourished by the ** dew of Paradise," grows in majesty
and beauty, a plant mystic, and immortal. i

Ambition, rightly directed, is perfectly compatible with contentment'
Not with that false contentment, which leads one to indulge in sloth, but
that which proceeds from self-approval, satisfying realization, and confident
anticipation — that which results from calm security, and conscious
power.

The great mistake of mankind has been, and still is, the directing of am-*
bition to secondary objects, pursuing what is but a means or an instrument*
as though it were the end. Hence many have become prejudiced against it.
I^ng has it been smothered beneath the depae and accumulated masses of
sensuality and selfishness ; but, like a hidden fire, it has been spreading

Digitized by VjOOQIC

40 Tke Casket

nlentlj and rarely ; its penetrating flames are sei^n in that gradual elevation
of the puhlic mind, and amelioration of the human heart, which prognosti-
cate some mighty outburst, some renewing conflagration, which shall con-
sume every evil and error in the world, and purify it, till it becomes the
abode of freedom and love.*

THE CA.SKET.

THE ELWATION OT WOHAK.

There are some parts of Siberia where a traveller ia as likely to lose his
way as if he were upon the sea, but a guide has been provided for man,
when one is required, even amid those pathless wilds. There is a little
plant which grows upon the stems and .branches of trees ; and as it is
always found on the north side, where moisture is most abundant, those
who are acquainted with that fact can use it as a chart. The traveller can
thus find his way amid diflicuties which might baffle the instincts even of
an American savage ; and He whose goodness and wisdom are alike illimit-
able, is found to have provided for our safety where our own strength,
would be only weakness, and our own wisdom folly.

And in the same way has the great Creator planted a guide in the heart
of society, such as might largely influence it for good, and prove a
preservative against many perils, were it properly employed. We refer to
the influence of woman,— man's original help and second self. Trained as
she was at first for present monotony and loneliness even in Eden, she has
continued, from the dawn of creation till now, largely to influence the
destinies of man. In her proper sphere, she has proved heaven's richest
blessing : out of it, she has been man*s heaviest woe.

We accordingly find that her position may be viewed as the barometer
of society ; we can thereby measure its elevation or depression. Is woman
degraded below her proper position, and made only the slave or menial
of man ? Do we see her, as in the domains of paganism, a mere hewer
of wood and drawer of water ; or the favourite of an hour, to be speedily
discarded and despised ? Is she the murderer of her little ones, as once
in the South Sea Islands ; or obliged by a horrid custom, to expire amid
the flames of her husband's funeral pile, as sometimes still in India ? Is
she in short treated like a soulless slave in the harem, or a beast of the
forest ? Then man is there found to be degenerate and corrupt, possessing
in some respects, perhaps, certain of the properties which prevail among
the lower animals, such as courage, cunning, and strength ; but devoid of
all that is exalting to an immortal being— at once depraved and depraving.
By this perverting his choicest blessing, man turns it into a curse, and
that re-acts upom him with a terrible force. In Eussia, for instance,
where woman has been for centuries degraded to the rank of a chattel,
some have arisen to take ample revenge upon man. Monsters of ferocity
have there appeared in female form, while the morals of not a few, even
among the titled and the courtly, are described by men who are neither
iprinces nor puritans, as exhibiting "such crimes, such excesses, and so
great turpitude, that a reader should shudder at the bare recital."

But on the other hand, is woman placed where the Father of all designed
her to be 1 Has she a position neither of degrading bondage, nor of
usurped supremacy, but just where God has placed her ; that is side by
side with man, as his helpmeet ? Then society is sound, for influences
which both sweeten and hallow it are there at work.

* We know the Author of this Paper to be a young man of considerable merit, but
his style displays vastly too much of the principle of which he writes. His sentences
require to be much more condensed.-^J^enVor,

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

The. Casket. 41

Nor is this wonderful. God has placed the highest influence that is known
upon earth in the hands of. woman. No monarch's sceptre — no human
laws — ^no course of discipline ; though stern and severe as that of La
Trappe, can accomplish what she can achieve, ^mong the savage and the
civilized alike, she wields a plastic power ov er man's heart, and therefore
over man's destiny, — a power which is appalling when exerted on the side
of evil, but beneficent as the very dew of heaven when put forth on the
side of good. It is not too much to say, that as evil entered the world by
woman, she will be found intimately connected with its continuance, in its
worst forms and its infinite diversity ; but neither is it too much to say,
as has been said, that as the Saviour was born of a woman, so that she
hecame the occasion of ten thousand blessings through him, her influence
for good whenever it is exerted aright, is not less than her influence
form.

The history, of the world contains proofs enough of this. The sleepless
vigils, the self sacrifices and devotion of woman at the bidding of affection,
are such as to elevate our conceptions of the grandeur of our race, she lives
mainly to comfort, and feels her mission only half accomplished unless she
he so employed. My mother's kiss made me a painter," said Benjamin
West, wnen referring to an incident in his early youth, and the remark
manifested his fine appreciation of the truthful, while it also illustrates
the ascendancy of woman. It proves how true it is that —

" Mightier far
Than strength of nerve or sinew, or sway
Of magic, potent over sun and star,
As love, though oft in agony distrest.
And though his feeble feet be feeble woman's breast,"

Dr. Twbbdib.

not to be envied, after all.

A while ago we fell in with a person, whose condition would probably be
regarded by most people as peculiarly enviable ; and yet we had not a whit of
any such feeling toward him. He held a public office in one of our large
cities— a quiet and cozy situation for a government official — and said he, **I
have no wish for the least possible change in my circumstances. I have a
pleasant family — they are all that heart could wish ; thay are all in
perfect health, and pleasantly situated ; my own health is equally perfect; my
income is ample, all my surroundings are agreeable ; and the best wish I
could utter to the Almighty himself is, that he would let me live for ever just
as I am ! "

Think of that. Here was a man so well to do in the world that by his own
showing, he had not one aspiration beyond it; so well satisfied with his share
of the comforts and pleasures of this narrow earth, and this present life, that
he had not a wish for any thing higher and purer and better ; and we may add,
as indeed would necessarily follow, he had no good hope of anything better.
The world would call him a happy man ; in a certain sense he was so. Few,
very few, could say as much as he did, concerning their worldly condition and
circumstances. And yet, from our heart of hearts we pitied him. We
were sorry for his very happiness ; for we could not help thinking what the
word of God says of ** men of the world, who have their portion in this life ;"
we could not help thinking of such a declaration as "The prosperity of fools
shall destroy them ; " we could not help thinking of the Saviour's story of the
rich man and the beggar that was laid at his gate; and as we thought of all
this, we say again, as we said at the time, we were sorry, deeply sorry, for
the very happiness of our comfortable and contented worldly friend. We were
sadly afraid of the probable issue.

Por, after ail, as be himself understood, his wish could not be granted.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

42 Th4 Casket.

Whatever elements of satisfaetion this world can afford, carUinuaMe is not
one of them. Satisfying though it may seem for the present, it is only for the
present. " The fashion of the world passeth away,*' and the prayer for an
abiding portion here is one that God will never answer. Well will it be for
the prospered man of the world, if he shall seasonably experience enough of
earth's changes and disappointments, to lead him to seek successfully <* a better
and an enduring substance." — Christian Secretary,

ADTICB TO TOCNQ PREACHERS.

Always remember that a few good sermons, well studied and well delivered,
will do much more good than many sermons badly conceived and poorly
delivered. Be deliberate and distinct in your pronunciation; at the same time
be natural and easy. Communion with God is the mainspring of all
religious duties, particularly those of the pulpit.

Neither preach nor pray very loud, remembering that bodily exercise
profiteth littie. Take care of your health. To do great good, try to live a
great while. Knowledge makes the preacher; therefore improve every
opportunity to obtain it. — J)aniel Smith,

Give me an impressivepess and an excitement that will not allo^v a hearer to
perceive a fault, or if he does, leaves him in no mind to regard it. And is
there nothing, if not to applaud, yet to extenuate, in even a mistake, in
endeavouring to do good to those who are destitute of a thousand advantages,
and whose condition is such that they must be sought after? We do not
admire their low and grovelling taste, yea, we wish to raise and improve it ;
but how is this to be done, if we never approach them ? Can you take up a
child from the ground without bending? And when kindness makes you
stoop, honour crowns the condescension. — William Jay,

HOW TO REMOVE A MINISTER.

The following exposure of the devices of certain discontented characters
to be found in most Churches, is taken from the " America^ Presbyterian
of the West":—

1. Tell everybody that no minister should stay if any one is opposed to
him, as he cannot do any good. This is not a Republican, or Presbyterian
doctrine ; but keep it before the people.

2. Threaten not to support him if ne stays, and guess that a good many
others will do more for some other man. True, this is covenant-making,
but the end sanctifies the means.

3. Don't be intimidated because your number is small. A very few can
raise up Satan in any Church by perseverance. Let it be known that you
never intend to give up until the minister is gone. Wear out the saints
who are his friends.

4. Tell lies of him, and repeat the lies of others. Perhaps he will have
enough of human nature about him to show a little temper and zeal for his
reputation. If so, then tell how badly such a spirit seems in a minister.
If by lying and worrying a man, you can drive him away and get a better
man, will not good come of the evil you have done 1

5. If you know any neighbouring preacher who is popular* in your church,
announce that for his labours, you will double your subscription, and get
as many others as you can to promise the same advance, and give it out that
there is no doubt but if the people would only speak their minds, such a
feeling is general in the congregation.

6. Talk loudly the praises of those who sympathize vrith you ; speak of
their good judgment, and their liberality ; treat every recruit wiUi con-
tinued "horns" of flattery, and they will be valiant to the end of the
war.

Digitized by VjOOQIC ,

ITie Casket. 4$

7. When you report the census of malcontents, always multiply by two
or three ; or if not too glaringly false^ by a higher number.

8. Get some one who has the confidence of the minister, and whom you
have induced to look at the opposition through your magnifying glass, and
have a friendly talk with him about the state of things, and advise him for
his own sake to give up.

9. Send him a letter, signed by a few, telling him that his usefulness has
terminated, that he might do good somewhere else, and that you hope he
may ; that you could have had many more lines on your paper, if you had
asked them.

10. Ask for a letter of dismission to join some neighbouring church.
Hold on to it, and propose to come back, if things can only go to suit you.

11. Stay away from the prayer-meeting, and take it as your reason of
absence that the minister utterly fails in giving proper interest to the
exercises.

12. Try to destroy all interest in the Sabbath-school j keep your children
at home, and stay away youraelf; and constantly complain that the
minister is not doing his duty to the young.

13. Seldom go to church, except when a stranger is to preach ; and if
you are at any time obliged to hear the old preacher, show that you can-
not listen, and try to exhibit such faces and grimaces, as Nathaniel did when
he said, *^ Oan any good thing come out of Nazareth 1 "

What a deplorable condition must a Church be in when such methods
oan be coolly resorted to, and, it is said, such cases abound in American
Churches.

ORAOE AKD PEACE.

God has bequeathed peace to the souls of his people, as be has procured
for them and made over to them, the spirit of grace and holiness ; which
has a natural tendency to the peace and quietness of the soul. It has such
a tendency, as it implies a dJBcovery and relish of a suitable and all-sufficient
good. It brings a person into a view of divine beauty, and to relish of
that good which is a man's proper happiness ; and so it brings the soul to
its true centre. The soul by this means is brought to rest, and ceases from
restlessly inquiring, as others do, who will show us any good ? and wander-
ing to and fro, like lost sheep, seeking rest and finding none. The soul
that hath found Him who is as the apple-tree among the trees of the wood,
sits down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit is sweet unto
his taste. And thus is that saying of Christ fulfilled, " Whosoever drinketh
of the water that I shall give him, shall never thirst." And besides, true
grace naturally tends to peace and quietness, as it settles things in the
soul in their due order, sets reason on the throne, and subjects the senses
and affections to its government — which before were uppermost, and put all
things into confusion and uproar in the soul, Grace tends to tranquillity —
as it mortifies tumultuous desires and passions, subdues the eager and
insatiable appetites of the sensual nature, and greediness after the vanities
of the world. It mortifies such principles as hatred, variance, emulation,
wrath, envyings, and the like, which are a continual source of inward un-
easiness and perturbation ; and supplies those sweet, calming, and quieting
principles of humility, meekness and resignation, patience, gentleness,
forgiveness, and sweet reliance on God. It also tends to peace— as it fixes
the aim of the soul to a certain end, so that the soul is no longer distracted
and drawn contrariwise by opposite ends to be sought, and opposite portions
to be obtained, and many masters and contrary wuls and commands to be
served — but the heart is fixed in the choice of one certain, sufiicient and
unfailing good ; and the soul's aim at this, and hope of it, is like an anchor
to it, that keeps it steadfast, that it should be no more driven to and fro by
eTMy wind. — Edwards.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

44 The Casket.

DO TOUR BBST.

An exchange, pleading against unreasonable exactions on the pulpit,
says that a minister cannot always do his best, and that congregations are
unjust in requiring a constant strain of their pastor's energies to effect
this. There is some truth here. No man can always do his. best abso-
lutely. There is a certain combination of circumstances, physical and.
mental, a certain adaptation of place and time, of subject, speaker and
audience, a combination occurring but a few times in any man's life,
without which one cannot achieve his best success. And besides tlie
impossibility in the case, a minister who preaches with a view to that
sort of appreciation by his people, is not labouring in the line of his truest
eificiency.

But while no 'man should feel constrained to overtax his strength for
the object indicated, neither should he allow himself to feel that his work
admits of any divided energy. " Whenever you preach," said a pastor to
a licentiate, " do the best you can " — ^that is, under the circumstances. The
advice was sound. It is not to aim ever at one ideal standard, without
regard to the conditions of the case, but to do the best that present
strength and opportunity admit. This is imperative duty. It is
demanded by the solemn nature of the work, by the urgency of the need
the preacher comes to supply, by the awful consequences involved, and by:
the account to which the preacher and hearer are alike hastening. It is
the impulse of the true spirit of the ministry, without the possession of
which no one should attempt the sacred function. It is impossible that
one should enter on such a service with a heart rightly affected, and not
feel impelled to concentrate upon it all his available strength of mind and
feeling. The consciousness of having slighted any duty whatever, should
awaken the conscience. But to go from the sanctuary with the inward
reproach of having slighted so great and affecting a charge, is more than
human conscience should be able to bear.

The difference between the two apparently opposite recommendations is
widened by a difference of motive. The effort to do one's best, by an
intellectual or oratorical standard, or by a standard of opinion, is
exhausting. The effort to do the most that is possible at the time, for
the attainment of the object of the ministry, may make large drafts upon
the strength, but there are compensations. That is an effort, in malang
which, one may warrantably look for the impartation of spiritual
energy, for the presence of spiritual supports, and it has a promise of
success which is sustaining, and when realized is reviving to the soul.
The one is toiling after an object that is never certainly gained : for he
who is self-satisfied has no very ethereal standard, and to attain it is a small
success ; oh for the opinion of other men, that is too variable and capricious
to satisfy one who looks before as well as after. The other is a self-for-
getting exertion for one whose burden is light and whose rewards are sure.

The beat— not for self, for reputation, for present admiration or perma-
nent influence — but for God and souls ; the best— not absolutely, with
reference to the standard of mental capacity ; but relatively, strength,
materials, opportunity, scope, being taken into account ;— this is the true
aim and the true spirit of ministerial exertion. And if striven for with
the feeling that— at best— his strength is weakness, and that his ability to
achieve anything is of God, who has chosen " earthen vessels " to the very
end that the excellency of the power may be not of man, the true servant
of Christ will find that in his work prudence and zeal are reconciled.

CONFESSION AND BLESSING.

The intimate connection between the confession of sin and the experience
of the Divine blessing, has been observed by every true believer. The
connection was taught and illustrated in numberless instances in the Old.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

The Casket. 45

Testament ; and, in this respect, the New differs from the Old only as it
more clearly exhibits the ground of the divine forgiveness in the atonement
of our Lord Jesus Christ. The recorded experiences of Bible saints have
their echo in the life of every Christian, JEach first found the Saviour
in the hearty and penitent confession of his sins, and each finds new
measiires of grace and strength just in proportion as a sense of sin drives
him, with a subdued, self-renouncing heart, to the great Physician of
souls. The whole have no need of a physician, but only the sick, and the
sick always find the one only Healer, when, renouncing mountebank cures,
they cast themselves on Him. This is the law of spiritual healing.

What we wish to urge in the present case, however, is the application of
this truth beyond the sphere of individual life, to the condition of our
churches. There are churches which seem to stand stationary from year
to year ; they do not seem to advance or decline. There may be about
them an air of respectability, but social respectability is not spiritual life.
The material structure in which they worship may be of fair proportions
and finish, but it is a poor substitute for the living temple of Christ. The
poor may receive at their hands the bread of a generous charity, but they
receive only the meat that perisheth, and not that which endures unto
life eternal. Such churches have a name to live, but they are dead. They
maintain their existence, such as it is, from the adventitious circumstances
of wealth and refinement ; they may be an embellishment of our civiliza-
tion, but they are not the salt of the earth. Then there is another class of
churches, maintaining, it may be with difficult}-, the ordinances of religion,
and wondering that the cause of Christ does not more prosper in their hands.
They see around them a great work to be done, but the work is not done.
If their condition is analyzed, it will be found, perhaps, that the members
do not work together — perhaps that alienations, latent or apparent, are
permitted to exist for years— or perhaps, that when they do labour for the
cause of Christ, they labour not by the simple and uniform methods of the
New Testament, but by temporary and shifting human devices, relying
more on these than on the power of the Holy Ghost. At any rate, no
progress is made, and the slumber of spiritual death is on the community
around them.

In these cases, in all cases where the influence of churches is not direct,
positive and salutary, there is fault in the churches themselves, and the
only remedy is to be found in seeking it out, confessing and abandoning it •
Churches are but aggregates of individuals, and as there is no remedy for
individual decline and inefficiency, but in the confession and abandonment
of sin, BO is there no remedy for lapsed and useless churches but in a
similar process. As this process never fails in the one case, so will it never
fail in tne other. As the individual Christian, smitten by a sense of his
un worthiness, has come forth from his closet, radiant with the blessings of
pardon and peace, and exulting hope, so revivals of religion, powerful and
blessed, have burst forth from the deepest spiritual gloom, when churches
have united in the confession of their sins. Every Christian who has had
experience of revivals, will recall such cases, establishing by their number
and invariableness this law of the Divine blessing.

We remember a case strikingly illustrative — that of a church declined in
spiritual life, and disturbed by unfratemal alienations. They determined
to hold a "Four Days' Meeting," (it was in 1831,) but the restlessness and
dissatisfaction with their condition which prompted the determination to
hold that meeting, was the chief sign of lingering life. It was like putting
to sea in a dead calm, in the hope of wind, of which there were no signs.
The meeting was to be opened on the coming day, and the members of the
church, large numbers ot them, met in the school-house in the evening, to
seek some preparation for the event. It pleased God to direct thither the

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

46 TkeCoMhft

stops of a venerable miiuster of anotiier denaminttion, known and bolovod in
allthatregion, and he was inyitod topreaeh. The bnrdenof his preac^ungwas
the daty of confession. As he proceeded, his countenance glowed with the
intenseness of his emotion ; he seemed like a man fresh &om communion
with God. And bearing a divine message, and more and more his preadiiing
took effect on those to whom it was addressed, until they were swayed by
it as the winds sways the fields of yellow gram. It was the highest elo*
quence, made potent by the Holy Ghost. He called on the memwrs of the
cnurch to make confession then and there, and they did it. They fell on
their knees, and mourned their alienations and deunqoencie^ and before
that evening meeting closed, the evidences of the divine blesdng were saost
apparent and significant. The ^^Four Days^ Meeting" which followed
proved to be of most signal power, and the results of that revival can never
perish. Throngs crowded the gates of the neclected Zion, and large
numbers were converted to Christ. It was a sudden, glorious shower in
the midst of seeming hopeless drought. It was perhaps, a remarkable
experience, but it serves as only a stronger illustration of that universal
law, that confession is the appointed condition of .blessings — a law which
applies to churches just as truly as to individual Christians. When Israel
turns unto the Loro, and takes with him the words of confession — vrhen
he abandons all his fiilse reliances, and seeks the favour of God, then it is
that God heals his backslidings, and becomes to him as the dew, causing
hun te grow as the lily, and cast forth his roots as Lebanon. " Go ye, and
do likewise."

ARTiriOlAt RSUOtOK.

When Archdeacon Hare first visited Home, some of his Protestant
friends, it is said, who knew his love of art, and the personal s^pathy
which he had with the Eternal City, trembled for tiie effect it might
produce upon his mind. These fears were ^oundless. Bome was all, and
more than all he had imagined. But the splendid vision left him a
stronger P!rotestent than it found him. " / saw the Pope" he used to say,
" ajpparenfly kneeling in prayer for mankind ; hU the legs tokich kneeled were
artificial; he was in his chair." Was not that sight enough to counteract
all the sBsthetical impressions of the worship, if they had been a hundred
times stronger than mey were !

' Thus it is with Romanism, with all mere ritualism and other formalism —
the legs which kneel are artificial. In that^haracteristic symbol^ the moral
and mystery of the whole system come out."

HUMBLB BEASEIL

A torch may be lighted by a candle, and a knife be sharpened by an
unpolished stene ; so Mr. Bildersham used to say, *^ that he never heard
any futhful minister in his life, that was so mean but he could discover
some cleft in him that was wanting in himself, and could receive some
profit by him."

THE BULUrO FASSlOir.

It is related of Bowland Hill, celebrated as an eccentric London
preacher, that in a sermon once preached by him, he attempted to illus-
trate the superficial and unavailing character of all goodness that does BOt
proceed from a pure heart ^ My brethren," so the preacher is stdd to
have discoursed, '' you can imagine a cat, which of course, is snscep^ble of
no influence from die grace of God, to take it into her head to set up for a
fine lady. So Puss goes to a mantuamaker, and the linen-drapers, and the
mercers, and purchases a portion of silks, and ribbons, and laces, and by
the assistance of her maid and her mirror, she is arrayed to tiie deh^t
of her Tanity, and the satiB&ction of her self-complao^cy. With a neat

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket 47

cap on her head, her feline ladyship 4S seated at the tea-table, and with a
winning simper, places her little velvet hand on the silver tea-urn, when all of
a sudden, a mouse pops in and attracts the attention of her ladyship. Like
sleeping gunpowder when a spark falls into it, her blood is instantly on
fire, she £aps over the china, which rattles on the floor, darts towards her
little vi(rtim, pounces on it, and the velvet smoothness of those pretty paws
proves to be only a shield for sharp instruments of torture. And thus it
is, my brethren, with the external goodness of an unrenewed sinner. Let
temptation appear, and the old Adam immediately shows his true nature."

WORTHY or ALL LOVB.

Nature is never prodigal of her gifts. Birds of gay plumage have no song,
strength is denied creatures endowed with swiftness. Thus it is often said, and
with justice, that as one man is generally distinguished by the predominance
of one virtue, or one class of virtues, and another one by the ascendancy of a
different kind of excellences, so the union of both might realize perfection.
Had the peculiar gifts «f John and Paul been blended, the result might have
been a perfect Apostle. Were the intrepidity of Luther, the tenderness of
Melancthon, and the calm intellect of Calvin, combined in one person, you
would have the model of a faultless reformer. Had Whitefield possessed
Wesley's tact and power of management, or Wesley, Whitefield's restless vigour,
and burning influence, would there not be the type of a complete evangelist r
Out of the distinctive talents and acquirements of Burke, Bacon, and Hale,
mighf be evolved the trial of a finished judge. And would he not be a para-
gon of statesmanship, who had the tongue of Chatham, the soul of Fox, and
the shrewd and practical energy of Peel ? But Jesus was distinguished by the
rarest union of integrity and good wishes. £very grace that adorns humanity
was in Him, and in Him in fullness and symmetry. No virtue jostled another
out of its place. None rose into extravagances — none pined in feeble restric-
tion. There was room for love to a mother, in a heart filled with love to the
world. He felt that He was dying as a Son, while He was making atonement
as a Saviour. His patriotism was not absorbed in the wide sweep of His phi-
lanthropy. What amiability in His character — what meekness and patience in
the midst of unparalleled persecution ! No frown was ever upon his face,
and no scorn was ever upon His tongue ; but His eyes were often filled with
tears, and His bosom overflowed with sympathy, and His lips with consolation.
His one pursuit was the good of men. For that by night He prayed, and by
day He laboured. Opposition did not deter Him, and ingratitude did not sour
Him. With what pains and patience He taught I With what dignity and
heroism He sufl^red I To attain the noblest of ends, He died the most awful
of deaths. He lived in the luxury of doing good, and expired in the triumphs
of a perfected enterprise. There was no step for self. No unworthy taint
soiled His purity, or alloyed His merit. He realized the end of humanity—
the glory and the enjoyment of God. The multitude hungered, and He fed
them ; they erred, and He rebuked them. The disciples trembled at the
storm. He arose and rebuked it. He summoned out of His bier the young
man of Nain, and when he might have claimed him as a follower and an
Apostle, He gave her only son back to his mother. Wine was exhausted at
the marriage feast, and not to expose the poverty of the newly- wedded pair.
He created a farther supply. He took the little children in His arms, and
blessed them. He could not keep the weeping mourner in suspense, but said
unto her — *' Mary.** The listers of Lazarus sobbed in sorrow, and He raised
their brother. Peter denied Him thrice, and thrice He comforted and com-
missioned the penitent. Judas saluted him with a kiss, and in the blandness
of His sorrow for the traitor, He called him, " Friend.** So perfect in every
relation of life — so wise in speech, and to pure in conduct — so large in com-
pasdooi and intense in beneficence— so replete with everything that charms

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

48

Poetry.

into attachment and love ; He was tbe incarnation of universal loveliness.
We repeat ir, were He but a man, who would not love Him, and caress His
memory, as an honour to His species — a man standing out from all other men
in spiritual fascination and in duty. " As the apple-tree among the trees of
the wood, so is my beloved among the sons" — of richer verdure than the
greenest of them, and of sweeter and more fragrant blossom than any of its
blooming companions. — Reo. Dr. JEadie,

RESPIRATORY SURFACE IN HUMAN LUNOS.

The number of air-cells in the human lungs amount to no less than six
hundred millions. According to Dr. Hales, the diameter of each of these
may be reckoned at the 100th of an inch ; while according to the more
recent researches of professor Weber, the diameters vary between the
70th and 200th of an inch. Now estimating the internal surface of a single
cell as about equal to that of a hollow globule of equal internal diameter,
then, by adopting the measurement of Hales, we find that 600 millions
of such cells would possess collectively a surface of no less than 145 square
yards ; but by basmg our calculations on the opinions of Weber — opinions,
remember, which the scientific world receive as facts— we arrive at the
still more astounding conclusion, that the human lungs possess upwards of
one hundred and sixty-six square yards of respiratory surface, every single
point of which is in constant and immediate contact with the atmosphere
mspired. It will be useful, then, to imprint on the memory, that whether
we breathe pure or putrid air, the air inspired is ever in immediate contact
with an extent of vital surface ample enough for the erection of two or three
large houses.

POETRY.

REVIEW OF THE LAST YEAR.

Swift as the winged arrow flies,
Our time is hastening on ;

Quick as the lightning from the skies,
Our wasting moments moye ;

Our follies past, O God forgive,

May every sin subdue ;
And teach us how henceforth to live,

With glory in our view.

'Twere better we had not been bom,
Than live without Thy fear ;

For they are wretched, and forlorn
Who have their portion here.

But thanks to thine unbounded grace.

That in our early youth,
We have been taught to seek thy face.

And know the way of truth.

Oh I let thy Spirit lead us stUl

Along the happy road ;
Conform us to Thy holy will.

Our Father and our God.

Another year of life is past,
Our hearts to Thee incline.

That if the present prove the last,
It may be wholly Thine.

A CHILD'S WISH.

O ! moth»r dear to heaven let's go.
For there is neither grief nor woe j
Is it beyond the sea far away,
Mother, really why don't you say ?
Or is it up in the sky so high 1
Whither the birds do soar and fly,
W^here the Sun with his golden rays
Sheds forth light and heat on our days %

But mother ! why do you linger and stay.
Cannot we possibly find the way ;
Is there no guide to direct us there !
Mother, let's venture, I think we might dare.
Do let us go where the Angels dwell«
About them I've often heard you t#ll ;
There we shall sit at the Saviour's feet t
And wear our crowns, and never weep.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

d^uarterlp iHisfiionarp Notices.

JANUARY, 1857.

During the last few weeks several items of Intelligence have been
received &om our Missionaries and others in Ireland, Hamburgh^ and
Australia. We have taken the earliest opportunity of making them
public for the gratification of the friends and supporters of our Mis-
sions.

The following relates to the state of the—

HAMBUEGH MISSION.

Bethel, SU PauTs, October 27th, 1856.
Dear and respected Sir,*

Doubtless you are aware, that the labours of the missionary in Hamburgh
are almost exclusively confined to the spiritual welfare of seamen. And it is
worthy of remark, that the cause here is as unsectarian as it is possible for a
cause to be.

Nominally we are Wesleyans, the services are conducted in the Wesleyan
form, and the doctrines of Wesley are preached, but the object aim'ed at by the
minister is, not to bring into prominence the little sectarian squabbles, which
divide Christendom, but to proclaim the great truths of the Gospel of Christ,
with a view to the salvation of all, who come under the influence of the Word
preached. And this, dear sir, you will see is the more necessary, because our
congje;;ations ashore are made up of men of various denominations. Often
have we had in the same service, Presbyterians, Baptists, Independents, Con-
ference Wesleyans, Primitive Wesleyans, Association Wesleyans, and Reform
Wesleyans. The unsectarian and disinterested aspect of the Hamburgh Mis-
sion will enable you to stand on the missionary platform with a very good
pace, and claim the sympathies and support, not only of your own people,
but also that of all Christian denominations, and especially that of the friends
of Missions. We have just held our annual tea-meeting here, said by the
people to have been the best that has been held, in connexion with our cause,
ever since its establishment. With it, closed our secretary's year. The annual
report, read at the meeting, gave encouraging evidence that the past year has
been one of the most successful years of the Mission's existence, so far as
regards the conversion of sinners. It cited several instances of the Gospel
taking immediate effect on the hearts of sailors, while being preached. One
instance occurred on board a ship from your own port.

It is now several weeks ago, that we held service on board the V , Capt

G^— , of South Shields. The cabin was full ; the sailors listened in breath-
less silence while I preached to them Jesus. It was evident that a powerful
and impressive influence was at work. When the service had closed, the
mate, a fine intelligent looking young man, came ashore with me, and without
any hesitancy or ec^uivocation whatever, said, •* Well, my dear sir, this has
been one of the happiest evenings I have spent in my life." " Indeed," was the
reply, ** I am happy to hear you say so ; I nope it will be the beginning of good
days with you/' He said, ** I hope it will. I feel it is much better to spend an
evening thus than to go ashore and spend a lot of money in drink." Another
interesting circumstance took place, not long ago, on board another ship from

* This eommuiiiflaiioa was addressed to Mr. John Armstrong of South Shields, who
kn kindly consented to its puhlication in this form.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

60 HAMBUBGH. 1857.

South Shields. We were holding service on hoard the P— — . At the com-
mencement we were much annoyed by two drunken sailors, who had come
to the meeting. One of them belonged to the ship. This man, for a while,
amused himself and annoyed us, by making all kinds of noises, and groans,
peculiar to dnmken men. The other, who was from a ship close by, was
adding ludicrousness to the service, by giving a sanctimonious nod of the
head, as if assenting to all that was said. You may easily conceive, how diffi-
cult it would be to preach with such a congregation. It seemed as if all hell
had been stirred up to oppose us that night 1 could scarcely plod on, and
more than once had almost stuck fast in the discourse. But I persevered, and
Jesus triumphed. I selected for my text these words, — ** Thou fool, this night
thy soul shall be required of thee." When the sermon liad proceeded a little,
the drunken men became quieter, and when it was concluded, one of them
fame and shook me by the nand, and said, evidently with considerable feel-
ing, that he had come to the meeting, solelv for the purpose of opposing me,
but could^ not do so, and further, that he had felt deeply the nower of the
truths which had been spoken, and by the help of God, he would be a diffe-
rent man henceforth. 1 have not seen the man since. I may just refer to
one more circumstance, which took place on board a Hull steamer. We have
had meetings in this ship freouently. For several meetings successively, one
of the men declared he would never go to another, for the minister preached
to nobody but him all the time, and ne could not bear it. He was however
prevailea on to attend again, and at last he became soundly converted to
God.

A great deal of the good that is done by this Mission, never comes to our
knowledge. Now and then we hear of one who has been benefited by our
labours, but these are only as solitary roses on an illimitable desert, and wq
may well exclaim, " What are these among so many!"

Our labours are much enfeebled, and our success greatlj^ limited by the
temptations of which Hamburgh is prolific. Sir, if our Mission had not been
instrumental in the conversion of a single soul, it would still have accom-
plished a great p;ood, for it offers a place of refuge, on the Sabbath-day, from
the blasting, withering influence of ungodliness, and infidelity, with which
this place is infested. Alas ! many have awfulljr fallen in this theatre of
iniquity. Hamburgh literally teems with dissipation, and i» rank with pros-
titution. Many, very many are the victims who fall prostrate under the
Jiotency of these diabolical influences. The Sabbath-day is most awfully pro-
aned, they seem to have no other idea of it, than to regard it as a day of
pleasure. Sorry I am to say, that our poor countrymen who come out here,
do not show them a better example. Far from doing so, many of them abet
and encourage every species of vice. My heart is wrung with sorrow, while I
candidly confess, that I am often ashamed of my fellow-countrymen, to see
them staggering with drunkenness, a disgusting spectacle for the gaze of the
more cautious, and more sober Germans. It is a sight with which we have
become familiar, to see English sailors returning to their ships, on the Sabbath
afternoon, one staggering with intoxication, assisted to keep his erect position,
assisted by two others, scarcely less drunk than himself, a second bearing in
his hands a new pair of boots, a third with a long brush, and a fourth with a
couple of bottles of grog. English sailors do here, what they would not for
shame do at home.

It must be plain to you, sir, from these statements, that a Mission such as
ours, contemplating the evangelization of seamen, is a matter of stern necessitp^
and one which lays claim to the support of the religious public. In labouring
for the spiritual welfare of seamen, we are encouraged by the example of our
blessed Lord, and assured that our labours shall not be in vain. For the
abundance of the sea shall be converted unto Thee,
Praying that you may have a good meeting,

.1 am, dear sir, yours truly,

John Baron.

The next communication is from Brother Alsop, and relates to,-^

Digitized by VjOOQIC

1857. AtrsTBAiiA. hi

COLLINGWOOD, AUSTRALIA,

Rev. and Dear Sir,

Notwithstanding the distance which intervenes hetween us and yourself, and
our apparent isolation from our friends in England, it is under a conviction
that the providential dealings of Almighty God, with us, as an integral section
of his militant church, will not only prove interesting, but tend to strengthen
that bond of sympath;^ by which we are knit together, in one body, one spirit*
even as we are called in one hope of our calling, one hope, one faith, one bap-
tism, one God and Father of us all, that I am induced to furnish for insertion
in our Magazine, a brief account of the erection and opening of our New
Chapel.

The discomfort of our Old Chapel placed us under great disadvantages ; we
were debarred from expenditure in completing its interior form. The daily
liability we were under, (bv act of Council, passed immediately after its erec-
tion,) to receive notice of the requirement of the site for street improvements.
In March, 1855, we received the long expected notice, and on the 2nd. of
December last, we worshipped for the last time in the old building ; on the
following day, Monday the 3rd Dec, we formally commenced the erection of
our present elegant chapel, by laying the foundation stone. According to pre-
vious arrangements, we proceeded from the old chapel, in procession to the
new site. The Rev. M. Bradney gave out the 747th Hymn, and engaged in
prayer ; J. P. Fawlkner, Esq., M.L.C., (the oldest Victorian colonist, a vener-
able and tried friend of civil and religious liberty,) after a suitable address,
read the following, engrossed on parchment : —

''Wesleyan Methodist Association Chapel, George Street, Collingwood.

This Stone was Laid by John Pason Fawlkner, Esq., M.L.C., on Monday, the

third day of December, One thousand, eight hundred, and fifty- five, in the

eighteenth year of the reign of Her Most Gracious Majesty, Queen Victoria.

Rev. Jos. Townsend, Minister.

J. R. Burns, Esq., Architect.

Sir Charles Hotham, K.C.B., Governor of Victoria."
" This Society purchase their land, erect their chapels, and support their
ministry by the free-will offerings of the people."

*'May the temple, thereon to be erected, long stand as a landmark to in-
spire the Christian pilgrim, with renewed vigour, in the prosecution of his
journey to his Father's house ; a swift witness against sin, and a refuge for
the poor wandering outcast sinner."
This document, with a coin of the realm, and a copy of that day's ** Argus'
aper, was deposited in the stone, which was lowered to its resting-place,
lie Rev. J. Townsend closed the impressive ceremony, by an appropriate
address, setting forth our origin, church polity,^ and doctrinal views. We then
adjourned to partake of the good things bountifully and gpratuitously furnish-
ed by the ladies, in the old chapel, where about three hundred sat down to tea.
a public meeting followed, ana a collection was made, which with the amount
realized on the Sunday, proved the hearty co-operation of our friends, m
the great work we had undertaken.

We have witnessed the demolition of the temple wherein we have worshipped
for upwards of two years, and where many received the word of God, not as
the word of man, but as it is in truth the word of God ; also under the divine
blessing, without accident of any description, the erection of the new
temple, and it was with feelings of deep gratitude to the Great Head of the
Church, that on Sunday the 6th of April last, we opened it. Our beloved
pastor occupied the pulpit on the conspicuous occasion, and preached in the
morning from the first seven verses of the 6th chapter of Isaiah •, in the
evening the Rev, John Reid, Presbyterian, preached from the 34th to aSth
verses of 22nd chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel. On the following Sunday
the Rev, Mr. Toore, Independent, late of Salford, preached in the morning,
from the 4th verse of the 84th psalm ; in the evening the Rev. James
Ballantyne preached from the 56th verse of the 6th chapter of St. Mark's Gos-
pel. The weather was most propitious, and the congregations excellent On
the evening following we were enabled, by the liberality of our ladies, to

The

Digitized by VjOOQIC

: 92 AVS'SRAUA. ldS7.

crown tbe whole witb a social tea meeting, and notwithstanclingf the attraetion
of a similar meeting at the Wesleyan Chapel, in the immediate neighhouroood,
we had an overflowing attendance ; from 400 to 500 partook of Tea } after the
fragments had been removed, Henry Langlands, Esq., answered an unanimous
call to the chair, and opened the public meeting, wnich was addressed by tbe
Rev. M. Bradney, Rev. W. B. Landell's, Independent, Rev. H. Townsend,
Rev. Mr. Hall, Primitive Methodist, Dr. Embling, M. L. C., and other friends.

The result of the various appeals have placed the Trustees in a gratifyiagp
and highly encouraging financial position.

The dimensions of our New Cnapel are thirty-three feet by seventy feet
inside measurement, and twenty feet from the floor to the ceiling s it is of tbe
light Italian style of architecture, the ceiling is divided into sixteen panels,
surrounded with mouldings, with an ornamental ventilator in the centre of
each. At the top end is erected a gall -ry, with a polished cedar front, under-
neath this are two vestries. The pulpit stands in front of tbe gallery, and
is also of polished cedar, it is supported by eight turned columns, and enclosed
in a neat communion. The building stands unrivalled in the neighbourhood
of Melbourne, as a chapel for elegance and comfort.

Ti-uly God hath been good to us his people, he hath brought us by a way we
knew not through obstacles which at times appeared ready to overwhelm us,
be hath gently cleared our way, and our path hath opened out clearly befbre
us. May his lovingkindness be continued to us as a church, and his glory
be manifested in our midst.

I am. Rev. and dear Sir, Your's faithfully, in Christ,

W. H. Alsof.

Our readers will be gladdened by the perusal of tbe followiBg
account of Brother Bradney's third Trip to Ballarat.

GEELONG CIKCUIT, AUSTRALIA.

Third Trip to Ballarat.

Saturday, Feb. 16th, 1856. — I set out on my third visit to Ballarat Diggings
and its neighbourhood. On this occasion I accomplished tbe journey on one
- of the public conveyances, a journey in which is always a frifffatful experi-
ment, but in this instance particularly so, besides a mo^ fearful shaking, the
eflects of which 1 did not recover for more than a week. We met with
several mishaps ; the first of the series happened after the second change
ofhorses ; the horses did not answer to the reins, and began to plunge among
some large stones. With difficulty they were arrested, when it was fouad
that the reins were fastened to the haims. Happily no serious damage was
done. The second mishap occurred about halfway between Geelong end
Ballarat, while making our way through the thick bush, the leaders encom-
passed a tree, but, through mercy, were backed without damage. The third
mishap was most serious in its consequences, and took place about fifty miles
from Geelong. Our conveyance (through the carelessness of the driver)
came in contact with a loaded dray, started the horse, knocked down the
man who had the charge of it, and one of the wheels of the dray parsed over
his body. Upon alighting, found the man was not iniured so badly as was
expected. I was much shocked to have m^ ears saluted with oaths and
curses pouring forth from the mouth of the injured man, whose evenr breath
should nave been prayer and praise. At the close of this memorable day, I
reached *' Madman's Flat,'' a digging locality in the vicinity of Ballarat, and
sojourned for the night in a tent belonging to one of our friends, thankM for
God's preserving mercies.

Lord's-day, the 17th. In the forenoon attended Divine Service at the
Primitive Methodist Chapel, Ballarat Rev. Mr. Gates preached. In the
afternoon I conducted the worship of God in the Temnerance Hall, Bakery
Hill, Ballarat, and in the evening, at Burringary : the latter service was
specially profitable. Passed the night at Mr. Biddle's, on Burringary Mount;
toe heat was too oppressive to permit me to sleep.

Tuesday, the 19th. Accompanied by my indefatigable friend, Gillingham,

Digitized by VjOOQlC

4857. AiJfiTiULiA. 53

I TOited llie Hard Hills Diggings, and preached to a large and atUlitiv^ don-
gregation in the open air.

Wednesday, the 20tfa. Took a pedestrian tour to several digging localities,
the last of which was ^ Madman's Flat ; ** at which place 1 preached the
word of life to the diggers in the open air, after they had done work.

Thursday, 21st. Extended my perambulations on the diggings ; fell in
with many friends. To many, digging life proves awfully detrimental to their

• spiritual state ; in some such cases the Lord makes me useful. O how soon
gold allures the soul from God ! Coming to this land will result cursedly to

• nany ** who did run well." This evening f took part in a Temperance
Meeting at Ballarat : this good cause seems to have been sadly neglected in
this locality; that it may revive is mv sincere wish. In this colony the
ravAg^es of str-ong drink are most melancnoly,

Friday, 22nd. I took my stand in the evening near the main road, Bal-
larat, and preached to a large congregation. At the close, a poor prodigal
Bought an interview with me ; spoke in terms of deep regret of the follies and
sins of his past life, and appeared inclined to amend his ways. I suitably
advised him. This visit to Ballarat and its vicinitv extended over four
Sabbaths, on each of which ray labours were divided between Ballarat and
Ballinyarry, and the interveninpr days were devoted to labours calculated to
promote the object of my Mission, sisch as preaching in the open air, visiting
our members and sick persons, searching out individuals iriendly to our
cause, making inquiries and arrangements with the view of securing a per-
manent footing for the Wesleyan Association ; and at the end of the month
I found the result of my efforts to be highly encouraging.

By preaching to the diggers in the open air, many were induced to reflect
•eriously, who nad, since coming to this country, forsaken the paths of virtue.
The visits paid to professors of religion were instrumental in some instances,
^ checking them in a retrograde course, and inducing renewed purpose with
reference to a lifig of earnest piety, while those who had maintained their in-
tegrity were cheered by the presence of one who sought to promote their
spiritual interests. Arrangements were made for erecting a small chapel at
Btmingory. Brother GUliogliam and I applied to the storekeepers and
diggers, for contributions towards the purchase of a large tent for preaching,
and a school en the Hard Hill diggings, and in this we were favoured wim
encouraging success. A site of I-and was secured on Ballarat township, in a
locality well suited for a chapel and minister's residence. Formed several
new acquaintances, like to prove advantageous to our cause, and had several
stnkine evidences of the preached Word naving profited those who heard it.

While on this visit I witnessed the novel scene of a digger's wedding, and
in fact took a prominent part in the affair, for I performed the marriage cere-
mony. Being requested to officiate as minister, or as all ministers here are
styled clergymen, all the preliminaries by law required were attended to, and
on Thursday morning, March Idth, at nine o'clock, I repaired to the tent of
the bridegroom, situated near SaiTnr's Gully, Ballarat Shortly after my ar-
rival a procession composed of diggers, was seen moving through the diggings
towards the tent, accompanied by music and dancing, headed by a digger
carrying a flag. On the flag was drawn the figure of a man dressed in digger's
costume, holoing in his hand a large pot of beer, and in large characters the
following very inappropriate inscription—

"Live, and let live."
When the procession arrived the tent was soon crowded. During the interest-
ing ceremony decorum was observed ; but as soon as it was ended the j ent-
up feelings of iollity burst forth, and the locality at once became a scene of
excitement such as I have rarely witnessed. My dutv being ended I retired
and made my way to Geelong, which I safely reached on the following day,
much to the mutual gratification of myself and family, and with gratitude to
God, who had graciously been with me in my endeavours to do good.

In April, the chapel at Buningory and the tent on the Hard Hill, were for-
mally opened for Divine service, to be held regularly on the Lord*s-day. Time
will show the utility of our efforts in those localities. When I am at home
the preaching services have to be suspended at Ballarat for want of preachers.
The opening for a minister at Ballarat is good. Mark W. Bradnet.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

54 BOVTB emxLDS^ 185T^

The following oommimication from Brotlier CoHingi^ will slio'W
that the Assemblj exercised a sound discretion in holding to tko
Irish Mission amid most untoward circumstances.

CARRICKFERGUS-

To the Editor,— Dear Sir,

After spending two happy years in Bolton we hade them an 8ffectionai&
farewell, and on Thursday August 21st, started for Ireland.

The voyage from Fleetwood to Belfast was much more pleasant than we
could have expected. We reached our destination at two o clock on the Fri-
day afternoon, and received a most affectionate welcome from Miss Hay and
Miss Gunning ; they immediately prepared tea, and we felt much refreshed
after partaking of a rich repast. May God reward them for their kindness.
In the evening, James Simms, Thomas McGowan, Mrs. McDowell, Mrs.
Mogey, and Miss Mogey, came to hid us welcome to Ireland. After singing
and reading a short psaJm, we devoutly offered up our praises to *' Him who
holds the winds iijhis fist, and the waters in the hollow of his hand," for hring-
ing us in safety to our desired haven. And we earnestly invoked his hlessing
upon our future lahours.

On the Sahhath we opened our Mission, it was a day of small things ^--a de-
serted sanctuary and a broken down society looked us in the face, our hearts
were ready to sink i in the morning we had only thirty of a congregation and
forty in the evening ; hut thank God, we had a good prayer-meetinff at the
close and our hearts got cheered a little. After the first Sabbath I lelt fuUy
convinced that to raise our Irish Mission, 1 must not be discouraged and give
up on account of difficulties, but must pray fervently, labour sealously, preach
eamesthr, and visit the people from aoor to door. And feeling the impof*
tance of^my work I gave myself afresh to God, and day after day on risings
from my knees, I have taken a pocket BiUe with me and gone from house to
house, to read the word of God and pray with the people, and invite them to
attend our chapel, and bless the Lord, my labours have not been in vain. He
has given me favour in the eyes of the people, and opened before me a door of
usefulness. Wherever I go the people are saying, *^ You are welcome to Ire-
land, sir ;" and some of them promise to begin and attend the Back Quarter
Chapel, and thank God they do not forget to fulfil their promise, for our con-
gregation is improving every Sabbath, and a spirit of deep seriousness seems
to pervade the minds of the people ; fifty or sixty generallv remain at the
prayer-meeting, after preaching. We are expecting a general outbreak, and a
loud crying out for mercy before long. O for the moving influences of the
Holy Spirit!

Mrs. CoUinge is trying to make herself useful ; she has commenced a
new class which bids fair for prospering. The cottages at Clipperstown,
Scotch- quarter, and Bonnabefore, where I preach on week nights, are exceed-
ingly well attended. Our prospect as a circuit is very^ cheering, God baa
come to our help, and that right early. We have met with a good house and
have a fine view of the sea. Mr. Mog^ey, a gentleman who takes a deep inte-
rest in our Mission, and whose heart is kindness, has taken a very active part
in helping us to furnish the house. May God bless him and his dear family.

We need and we now call for, an increased interest in the prayers of our
friends on the other side of the water.

Yours affectionately,

October IStk, 1856. John Collxngb.

WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION HOME AND
FOREIGN MISSIONS.

The Annual Sermons on behalf of the above Missions were preached in
Queen- street Chapel, South Shields, on Sunday, the 14th December, in the
morning and evening, bjr the Rev. M. Baxter, of London, President of the
Annual Assembly, and Editor of the Association Magazines, On the follow-
ing day the Annual Missionary Meeting was held in the same place.

Mr. Councillor Armstrong was called to the chair.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

18«57. SOUTH SHIBIJ>8. 55

He obsenred tbat they bad every encouragement to go forward in the mis-
sionary work. He believed that at no previous period of the world's history
were there so many providential openings for doing good, nor was there ever
such an efficiency, agency, and instrumentality, at work as at the present. It
was somewhat surprising when they looked at the different parts oi the world,
and observed how God, in the order of His providence, had opened out a way
for His work being done. They had missionaries planted here, there, and
yonder, in fact in almost every part of the habitable globe. He believed that
God intended them as Englishmen, as Protestants, and as Metho^sts, to take
a prominent position in the evangelization of the world. Under these circum-
stances he urged them to go forward with renewed zeal in support of the
mission work.

The Rev. R. Chew read extracts from the Annual Report With respect to
the Missions^ both at home and abroad, during the past year they had been
supported vnth increased liberality and success. New mission stations had
been opened, and new chapels had been erected at the antipodes. The number
of stations at home also had been increased. The mission fund had added
upwards of 400/. to its income, and the churches more than 800 members to
their fellowship. Loud calls for ministerial aid were still, however, heard from
Australia and in the West Indies. The missionaries at present occupying the
missionary stations in the south and in the west have, during the past vear,
laboured with considerable success, but they feel their numbers to oe wholly
inadequate to occupy all the various openings which present themselves. In
Australia, great things are being done. During the last year, feeling deeply
for the moral destitution in Australia, and the surrounding islands, the mem-
bers of the churches there, founded an Australian Missionary Society to co-
operate with the Parent Society in the fatherland, for the diffusion of truth in
that part of the world. The amount collected in South Shields Circuit last
year was 15/. IZs. 6d.

The Chairman having read extracts from a letter in reference to the Ham-
burgh Mission, the meeting was afterwards addressed by the Rev. Mr. Row-
land of Newcastle, Rev. Mr. Rutherford of Sunderland, and the

Rev. M. Baxter, President of the Annual Assembly, who dwelt on the im-
portance of the Missionary work, and of the elevating tendency of Chris-
tianity. In the same proportion he observed, as evangelizing principles had
been diffused, in the same proportion had the people advanced in civilization,
in wealth, and in the enjoyment of liberty. During the last hundred years,
great things had been accomplished. England had more than doubled her
population^ and had acquired for herself a position, both commercially and
poutically, of the highest importance among the nations of the earth. It
might be asked what the Wesley an Methodist Association were doing in this
great enterprise, that was so eminently adapted to elevate other countries as
It had elevated our country? They might answer that they as yet had
scarcely had time to show themselves on the great theatre of missionary
enterprise* so few years had they been in existence. But they would not plead
any such thing. ^ They had established missions at Hamburgh, in Ireland, in
the West Indies, in North and South Wales, and in Australia, and lie believed,
if they had a cnart of the world before them, there could not be found an
equal number of places of more importance than those which had been selected
by the Societv as the scene of its missionary operations. With reference to
Hamburgh, there was not, among the various portions of the earth, a place of
greater interest for the carrying on of missionary operations than it Jt was
true that they did very little for the benefit of the individuals who were the
permanent citizens of Hamburgh, but there was a population of a floating
character there, to whom attention was directed. It was indeed a fact worth
noting, the great number of British and American seamen annually visiting
the port of Hamburgh. These seamen while there were in a state of mor^
destitution. They had no individuals to care for their souls, and they were
exposed to peculiar temptations, and supplied with peculiar incentives to vice.
The Societv had sent out a Missionary to Hamburgh to look after the spiritual
interests of those seamen. ^ It was a mission that never could show any con-
siderable results in a statistical point of view, in consequence of the character
and profession of the parties laooured amongst. Still great good was done.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

56 CHELTENHAM CIKCUIT. 1857.

numbers of seamen haying been brought to a knowledge of the truth. The
seaman had a snecial claim upon them to have his interests attended to
There was not a class of men to whom we owed more than to the seaman. To
him were^ we indebted for many luxuries, and the products of many other
zones besides our own. He enabled us to export our manufactures, bringing
back in return that which was necessary in order to sustain and maintain the

S!ople of this country. To him we owed nearly every luxury of the' table,
e also brought furs to comfort and protect us against the inclemency of the
winter season. In time of war, too, our seamen occupied the wooden walls of
old En^landi and defended it against the world. In the face of these things
they could not do less than care for the sailor, and promote his spiritual
and moral welfare. The reyerend gentleman then referred to the West Indies*
and passed on to notice Australia, another station of missionary enterprize.
Australia occupied a lai^e share of attention from the people of this country
on account of its being the land of gold. But abundant as gold was in Aus-
tralia, it was not the most precious and delightful thing that was there. There
were souls in Australia who had been bdu^ht by the blood of the Lord Jesus
Christ, and to those the attention of the missionaries of this Society were di-
rected. As Christians they were bound to employ their resources, whatever
they may be, for the promotion of what they conscientiously regarded as the
highest interests of society, both at home and abroad, and which he sincerely
trusted they would do. The reverend gentleman cof/cluded his eloquent ad-
dress by an earnest appeal in behalf of Missions, both at home and abroad.

The Itev. Mr. Kirsop moved, and tlie Rev. Mr. Chew seconded, a vote of
thanks to the various speakers, and the chairman, which was agreed to most
enthusiastically.

The Doxology having been sung, and the benediction pronounced, thfe
meeting seperated, a collection having previously been taken on behalf of the
funds of the Society. The collection was in advance of last year's.

North akd South Shield's G^zbttb,

CHELTENHAM CIRCUIT.

To the Editor— Dear Sir,

Our Circuit is getting on nicely, and our chapel is nearly filled every Sun-
day evening with attentive listeners. Within the last two months we have let
from thirty to forty sittings. Several have joined our society, besides some
ten or twenty Reformers. I am, yours respectfully,

S. Newton.

In another letter to the Corresponding Secretary, Brother Newton

In addition to 15 or 20 Reformers, several of which are men of sterline
worth, talent, and respectability, we have received 10 or 15 members for trial
the last quarter, and let from 30 to 40 sittings in the chapel, opened two new
preaching places, and from the inclosed bill you see that we are about to open
a beautiful little chapel in a flourishing village about a mile and a half from
the town, which was built by the Re^rmers at the commencement of the
movement, but which has been occupied for two or three years by the
Baptists. A most delightful feeling pervades all our meetings, several of our
friends appear to be getting in a good state of mind and growing in grace.
Several are inquiring after salvation.

On a Sunday evening our chapel has for weeks been nearly ^Ued ; we have
put in a few additional seats, if my health which is very good at present,
only keep so, we are likely to do well. But it is killing work. I attend the
seven o'clock prayer-meeting, lead an important class at ten, preach at eleven
o'clock, three, and half-past six ; prayer-meeting afterwards, and frequently
visited a German lady, who died a few days ago. On Monday I have a class,
Tuesday, preaching ; Wednesday, a class ; Thursday, prayer-meeting. Thus,
you see I preach tnree times a week to the same congregation with few excep-
tions, lead three classes, and attend three prayer-meetings, in the week*

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Digitized by VjOOQIC

.TenJdns <9cf'

1E.1EV?W1I1LILIIM1II BAWSOM,

.^2

y?/^y/^^<

Digitized by VjOOQIC

THE

WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE.

FEBRUARY, 1857.

SHADOWS OF THE PAST, DAWNINGS OP THE FUTURE.

No. IL

The year, which has so recently passed away, was in many respects
an auspicious year to England. It brought Peacb after two years of
fierce conflict between some of the mightiest monarchies of the
world ! It brought increased prosperity to our trade and manufac-
tures, the value^ of which, it is believed, will be found at the end of
the official year to exceed one hundred and forty millions of pounds
sterling, against sixty millions, which was the aggregate value of our
commerce only eight years ago I It has shown to Europe and tlie
world, the wonderful elasticity of our Resources, — the Public Income
of the country having exceeded by some millions sterling the most san-
guine hopes of that craving functionary, the Chancellor of the Exche-
quer ! It has brought us the settlement of some vexed questions of
long standing between us and our Cousins in the other Hemisphere.
These are all matters for congratulation. But its revelations have not
all been in the colours of the rainbow. It has made disclosures with
respect to the moral state of the Community, anything but flattering
to the national vanity. We had long mourned over a vagrant popula-
tion of some hundreds of thousands, more closely scattered over this
Island than population of all classes over some extensive tracts of the
Russian and the Turkish Empires. We had began to regard vagrancy
as an almost inseparable feature of the Commonwealth ; a kind of ne-
cessary evil, resulting from the density of population within our very
limited territory. But the last year has shown that whatever may
be the fact, in respect of the increase or decrease of Vagrancy, we
have intermingled with it, vastly more of the criminal element than
for a long time past. An eloquent writer, three years ago, in
dilating on the Crime of the Metropolis, observed ; — ** We cannot
walk round Clapham Common, or Hampstead Heath, or go even a
short circuit in Belgravia, or Tyburnia, without being accosted by
half-a-dozen fellows, equally prepared to sell your trash, to pick your
pocket, or cut your throat, as circumstances may direct ! " This
observation, might, with some qualification, have been extended
to most of our large cities, and to some of our rural districts during
the last year. The Expenditure of the country on account of crime,
threatens, ere long, to exceed the sums expended in the relief of
Destitution. The apparent deterioration of the national character, is

p

Digitized by VjOOQlC

58 Shadows of the Pasty

adapted to fill one with shame and confusion. On one hand, we have
been startled with disclosures, made under Parliamentary authority,
of the adulteration of articles of Trade and Manufacture. On the
other, with frauds, — monstrous frauds, practised on the credulity of
the people in monetary transactions. Now, it is a medical man who has
abused the confidence of an unsuspecting friend, and wilfully admi-
nistered poison instead of the remedy for his recovery. Then, it is a
husband who has stealthily mixed the element of death with the
medicine which medical skill haa prepared for the restoration of bis
wife. Or, it is the open murderer who stabs in broad daylight, and
swells the awful calendar of crime oy the perpetration of the deed un-
der circumstances of unmitigated barbarity. There is scarcely an
honest man in the country, who will not admit the year 1856 to have
been a period of great crimes, and of monstrous frauds, — a year of
shams and impostures. The Public Press, charged with the guar-
dianship of the interests of tne Nation, has, as in duty bound, sounded
the alarm. Journalists, in every department, have taken up the ques-
tion of the Public Safety, — ^not endangered by foreign arms, but by
our own Vices. Statesmen and Philanthropists are prosecuting in-
quiries into the causes, or ofiering suggestions as to the means of pre-
vention and cure.

But the detection of Crime is less difficult than the discovery of
its Causes.* The inquiries made by well-disposed citizens into the
causes of Crime, have not been so successful as might be desii-ed.
The Ticket-of- Leave system has been seized upon by many, as the
probable cause of the fearful increase of the attacks on life and
property during the past year. The most zealous of the Metropo-
litan magistrates (Sir P. Laurie) has procured the statistics
of Crime in connection with the Old Bailey, during this period,
from which it appears that forty-three criminals of this class were
tried at the Central Criminal Court ; of whom, one was sentenced to
death, — one transported for life, — two for twenty years, — two for
fifteen years, — four for fourteen years,— one for eight years penal
servitude, — seven for six years, — sixteen for four years, — and three
were sentenced to various terms of imprisonment. Only six of the
whole number were acquitted. Now, it is granted, these are start-
ling facts, but it were ridiculous to charge the atrocities of the whole
Calendar upop our Ticket-of-Leave system. Were Palmer and Dove,
Ticket-of-Leave men ? — or must Sadlier, Robson, Paul and Redpath,
be reckoned as of this class? The causes of Crime, whatever
they may be, lie deeper than the Ticket-of-Leave system. They
mingle more fully with the ramifications of society. On^ great cause
may be, the utter neglect in early life to which a large number of
the youth of this country are exposed, — another, the prevalence of
intemperate habits among so large a portion of the population
— a third reason may be, the introduction of a considerable num-
ber of foreigners of reckless habits into this country at the close
of the war, and the return home of that portion of the militia which

* Of course, we speak here of the proximate, not the original causes of
crime. Editor.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Dawnings of the Future. 59

bad been called upoa to do the work of regular troops, tip to that
period. But these causes do not by any means account for all the
facts. Sadlier and Palmer were not cast on the world to make their
waj as best they could. Paul and Redpath had not served in the
Foreign Legion, nor had they formed part of the militia and been
exposed to all the demoralizing influences of ^ soldier's life. Then
Kobson was not a person whom drunkenness had brought to destitu-
tion. And it is precisely this class of criminals that has given to the
Calendar of Crime its darkest hue. It is indeed matter of alarm to
men, who are not of the Alarmist class, that individuals in the upper
classes of society and even of the highest, should enter into league
with one other, to swindle thousands of honest men out of their
hard-earned savings, and that while the villany is passing through the
process of concoction, it should be seen and winked at by numbers of
individuals engaged in mercantile pursuits, who must have been privy
to one or another of those multifarious shifts by which public detec-
tion was staved off to the last possible hour. We have long been
accustomed to cry down Chartist lecturers as the most Utopian, and
at the same time, most dangerous of Charlatans, but- the frequent
occurrence of cases like these, would do more to dis-socialize the com-
munity than all the declamation which these demagogues have
uttered since the five points were first mooted, or which men of their
Creed might utter during half a dozen generations, each measured by
the length of Methuselah's lifetime I And we believe, the secret cause
of this class of villanies, in nine cases out of ten, has been the passion
for display : the morbid disposition to enact the part of individuals
with unlimited resources. A coatemporary has well observed, that
while " these things are so, we must be prepared to find some ' re-
spectahle* men forging certificates, embezzling trusts, and lending
other people's money to each other. We must not be astonished that
the lower classes should in knavishness imitate some of their * betters ' '
who sell us sand with our sugar, and red -lead with our cayenne." The
year which has been so foully stained with crime, has been memorable
for the numerous suggestions of ingenious men as to the means of pre-
vention and of cure. The remedies have been almost as various as the
disease. We wish there had been as much of adaptation as of variety
in these suggestions. A writer in " the Leader " observes, One person
recommends revolvers ! another advises the bowie-knife ! A collar
of iron to defeat the garrotter ! A collar of iron with poisoned needle-
spikes, to poison and kill the garrotter! A life-preserver! A doubling
of the Police force. A special police attendant on private persons or
private carriages. A sword-stick. A dagger-stick. A blue-light to
bum and flabbergast the footpad. A boot-bayonet, set on like a spur,
to kick withal. A door-chain, to keep out the sturdy beggar. A
little barking spaniel, to give warning to burglars. A small wicket
peep-hole, to scan the visitor. A general raid^ to kidnap all suspici-
ous characters. A general transportation for attacks on property. A
vigorous resort to the gallows for dangerous attacks on the person.

Now, we are free to admit that there is somewhat of exaggeration in
the above summary of the expedients, to which, certain wise men among

F 2

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

60 Shadows of the Pasty

us would have recourse to save Britons from their domestic foes, but it
serves excellently well to show how closely men cling to physical means
of protection, and how blind they are, for the most part, to the maraL
This, we regard, as the radical error of many men who are amazingly
zealous for the Public Safety. With respect to Vagrancy, what we
want is something that shall so curb the appetite and subdue the pas-
sions, as to make the ordinary motives to crime, in the case of the un-
fortunate, powerless. We want to have juvenile destitution so watched
over, and so guarded against, that the wretched youth of our large
towns shall not become vagrant by necessity. As to such as have
erred from the path of honesty, we require moral instrumentalities
that shall, under the blessing of God, so act on their hearts as
to bring them back to honesty and fair-dealing. Some, no doubt,
will prove incorrigible, and expatriation from their native land may
be the best course to be pursued in their case, if we only knew where
to send them. But our Colonists abroad will not permit us to cast off
the spawn of British society upon them, and the experiment of a
purely penal settlement was tried some years ago in Norfolk Island,
and discontinued, because its inhabitants reproduced there, the abo-
minations of the Cities of the Plain. It is the confirmed criminal
whose case it is most difficult to meet, and we have arrived at such a
point that the best talents of statesmen must soon be devoted to the
solution of this problem. As to the rest, we are inclined to think that
philanthropists have got the true key to their case. There can be no
doubt that criminals, for the most part, are supplied from the vagrant
portion of the community. Now it strikes us that Dr. Guthrie's plan
for dealing with juvenile vagrancy, is the wisest that has yet been
adopted. But let him tell his own tale. He says ; —

When I began the work of Ragged Schools in Edinburgh, I found some
2,000 or 3,000 children playing about the streets. These children were
the seedlings and the young plants that afterwards grew into hardened
criminals. They were begging by thousands : they were up every morn-
ing like a cloud of locusts, and spread themselves over the city. What I
Said was this, — " You can't expect the parents to send these children to
school, because they have no money to pay for them ; you can't expect the
parents to send them to school, because the children have to support
themselves, and more than that to support a drunken father or mother,
and feed the parents with the fruit of their mendicancy." I thought that
if I could set up a school, and in that school not only educate the children,
but clothe and feed them, and where the home is very bad, house them, —
for we never like to separate parent and child in Scotland if we can pre-
vent it~we will cure the evil. We opened our Ragged School, we gave
the children food— you are near enough Scotland to know what porridge
is — we give them porridge in the morning, soup for dinner, and porridge
in the evening, and it would do any man's heart good to see the potent
powers of porridge. When we began our Ragged Schools they were
swarming with juvenile beggars. You will walk the streets of Edinburgh
now for miles and hours, and you will not see a juvenile beggar at all.
The Government is now to give us 60s. a-year for every child of the
abandoned and criminal class that we feed and educate; and you may
depend upon it this is the true cure for our present evil. Education on
the one hand, and Temperance on the other ; and I am not ashamed to say

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Dawnings of the Future. 61

that I believe I could use intoxicating stimulants with as muoli safety as
any man. I am not a total abstainer in this sense of the word, that I think
it a sin to use these liquors ; but I have seen such misery from it, and I
have seen from it so much crime— and I know that four-fifths of the
poverty, four-fifths of the crime, and four-fifths of the ignorance of the
country, is owing to the intemperate habits of the people, that before God,
and according to my conscience, I have resolved, and I hope to keep my
resolve, that I would abandon the use of all those stimulants ; and if our
ooontry would do the same, it would be the noblest, the brightest^ the best
spot beneath the sun of heaven.

Earl Grey, an eminently enlightened statesman, enunciated similar
views only the other day, at a meeting of the Bagged Schools of New-
castle-on-Tyne, recommending most justly, the training of the chil-
dren to habits of Industry in addition to the communication of Know-
ledge. His speech was so pertinent to the question that we cannot
do better than quote a sentence or two, in which he conveys his views
on the subject. After having adduced various moral motives to in-
duce his auditors to watch over the interests of the juvenile vagrant,
he said ; — '

And even if the higher motives of a sense of duty and charity were
wanting, we ought to be induced to do so by the lowest consideration —
that of our own interest. Need I tell you how great and how just an
alarm has lately been created in the public mind by the unusual preva-
lence of crimes of great atrocity — need 1 tell you how much all classes of
society suffer from the multiplication of crimes of that description, and
need I further observe to you that, while the attempt to repress these
crimes by any punishment hitherto devised has as yet met with very
partial success, there is every reason to believe that some considerable
check, at all events, will be opposed to this increasing evil if some means
can be found by which it shall be prevented that the criminals who now
crowd our gaols should obtain annually fresh supplies from neglected
children who are educated in the profession of crime. With respect to
the local schools, the Chairman said : — There is no arrangement of which I
more heartily approve than that by which the children are trained to
industry as well as to have their intellectual education provided for. I
believe that this is really almost the foundation stone of the whole system,
and that its future success depends upon the course into which that prin-
ciple is carried out ; because what you want is not merely to enlighten
the minds of these children, but you want, when they shall leave the
school, to rescue them from those temptations to which they might other-
wise be exposed, by preparing them for the difficulties and trials they may
encounter in maintaining themselves in the world by habits of industry
acquired in the school.

If there be any defect in this system, so far as expounded by Earl
Grey, it is that while much stress is laid on intellectual education
and business-training, moral training is almost entirely overlooked,
unless he includes it under the term '^ intellectual education,'' which
is not very probable. The importance of moral truth when brought
to bear on the conscience, and to operate in the formation of cha-
racter, cannot well be over estimated ; and every system, however
excellent in other points, is radically defective if this be neglected.
So much for the treatment of vagrants.

With respect to the treatment of Juvenile criminals, it appears to

Digitized by VjOOQIC

S2 Shadows of the Pasty

MB that Lord Stanley and the Criminal Reformers of that school, bave
adopted judicious methods, which, if extended to the country at large,
-will do a great deal towards diminishing the number of the worst class
of Criminals, and increasing the number of good citizens. Certainly,
they appear to us to be the most enlightened of all who have under-
taken the arduous task of Criminal Reformers. They devote their
attention to juvenile criminals principally, if not exclusively ; and
painful as may be the admission, they are the only class of whom much
hope can be indulged. With respect to the others, there is no denying
that a long course of vice has such an indurating influence on the
character, that their soul becomes at length almost as unimpressible as
marble to the most delicate touch ; and as strong in its resistance as
the solid rock to the gentlest breeze of Heaven I

But what shall be said of the Robson, the Sadlier, the Redpatb, and
the Palmer class ? — the most aggravated in guilt as they are the
deepest in baseness. To prevent the multiplication of criminals of
this class, it may be necessary, in addition to the ordinary moral
motives, that society should be thoroughly indoctrinated into the folly
of dressing, and dining, and jaunting, at a rate wholly beyond their
means ; that something should be done to bring us nearer to the sim-
plicity of manners and life* adopted by our fathers. We require to
have men of all classes, so taught, that they shall feel with Quallon ; —

'Tis not glittering gold that makes
A great and princely name ;
'Twill never help a creature on
The Royal path to fame ; —
'Twill never wreath ethereal fires
^Around the patriot's head; —
That light that cheers him while he lives,
And hallows him when dead !

The passion for display combined vrith the love of money as the
means of its gratification, is, we believe, one of the most crying evils of
the age. This, we have no doubt, led to the ruin of five out of six of
the unhappy individuals last named. And the vagrant class, does not
more require to be kept from destitution, in order to prevent violent
attacks on life and property, than this other, requires to be taught to
live within their income, unless we would have fraud flourish with
rank luxuriance, and crime taint the yery core of Society.

Having dwelt at some length on one or two aspects in which
the past year has presented Society in Great Britain, we may now
take a rapid glance at the condition of some of the other races in that
great family of nations, with which we are so closely identified. The
aspect of the world viewed from the Christian stand»point must ever
be matter of deep interest. Wherever we look throughout the
larger part of Christendom, we perceive elements at work which,
sooner or later, must eventuate in revolutions, — social and religious.
The mighty Despotism of Russia is no exception to the statement.
Risk from War may seem to have ceased, but the risk of change
from other causes has probably increased, with the apparent quiet
which prevails from one end of that gigantic Empire to the other. A

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Dawnings of the Future, 63

writer wlio seems to be well informed, and who has collected his fSsu^ts
on the spot, affirms that a Voltairean Infidelity is at work among the
more intelligent of the Russian people, threatening the Greek Churchy
as such with subversion, and Society, as at present constituted, with
overthrow. It will be well, if the Despotism of the Czars be not
overwhelmed in the same way as was that of the Bourbons, sixty
years ago, in a neighbouring country ;— it will be well if Society there
be not involved in universal Anarchy. Power that is built up with-
out the cement of principle, as all history shows, is peculiarly liable to
a violent overthrow. A far-seeing Journalist has hazarded the opinion
that the magnificent Coronation of Alexander 11. was probably the
last of the class, which, Russia or Europe, is destined to witness.
From the Baltic we turn to the Mediterranean, and there we behold
TdRKET in a state of Collapse after its death struggle with its north-
em foe. Its Independence, as a European Power, has been secured
by the War, but it is clearly doomed to undergo rapid and extensive
changes, both as to its social and religious condition. The Armenian
Church, undisturbed for ages, except by the Moslem, has now, with
its dogmas of the intercession of the Virgin and of the Saints, with
its pictures, and idols, its purgatory and prayers for the Dead, to
defend itself against a new element of* power in the teachings of
Protestant Missionaries from the United States of America, poured
forth by the living voice of the Missionary in the pulpit, and by
the teacher in the Mission School, and both aided by native Teachers,
native Translators, native Colporteurs for the circulation of the Scrip-
tures, and all protected against the bigotry of the Armenian clergy,
by volunteer guards of Mussulman soldiers. As to the religion of
the Prophet, persons recently returned from that singular country
believe that it is in a state of rapid decline, — that in " a hundred
years hence the population of Turkey will be composed wholly of
Greeks, Catholics and Protestants," and that the Crescent will soon
vanish before the Cross. The present then is an important crisis
in the history of Turkey. Now that the Physical force conflict ig
over in the East, we must renew the moral struggle with increased
energy. The rulers of the West, in the late War, set themselves only
to resist the encroachment of the great Autocrat of the North, but
Jehovah had a nobler purpose. He has made the wrath of man
subordinate to his design of renewing his own work, amid those
scenes of sacred interest, where once flourished the Churches of the
Apocalypse; of rolling back the tide of Mahomedan error towards those
dreary wastes — fit symbols of its character — whence it came forth to
desolate the Earth ; and of incorporating the down trodden nations of
the East into the kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.

In France, Society dwells among the unextinguished embers of
Revolution, however they may be concealed. Its religious state is
as gloomy as its political. While the Archbishop of Paris falls a
victim to his belief in the absurd dogma of the Immaculate Conception,
their dramatic literature is so filthy that no author could be found
worthy of the prize, recently offered by the Emperor, for the most
trwrid dramatic production. Meanwhile, infidelity is striking its roots

Digitized by VjOOQIC

64 Shadows of the Past,

again into tHe public mind. Catholicism has been placed on tHfd
a second time in that country, and a second time, it has brought
forth the same deadly fruits, of corruption in morals, and scepticism
in matters of Faith. There may now be no "Holy Philosophical
Church" as in the days of Voltaire — there may now be no Patriarch of
Scepticism to crack jokes about " David's wives," and " Saul's Asses,"
but the literature of France, — that of the periodical press espe-
cially,— ^is largely tainted with infidel principles. As of old, Sceptics
take one of their premises from the Protestants, the other from the
Catholics, and arrive at the same result aS before. They hear the
Catholic state that Catholicism and Christianity are one ; they listen
to the Protestant statement that the faith of the Catholic involves the
belief of contradictions, and they arrive, as of old, at a state of Scep-
ticism with respect to Religion in general. Nor is there, anything
very astonishing in all this. It is but the repetition of an old error
to regard Catholicism and Christianity as the same thing under dif-
ferent names. But having done this, the rest of their reasoning is sound
enough,— for contradictions being impossible of belief, faith cannot
be expected in such a case, from any rational being. A French corres-
pondent of the " Evangelical Christendom " represents the Si^cle, the
Presse, the Journal Dfebats, and the Revue des Deux Mondes as being
devoted systematically to the diffusion of Infidelity. Proprieties, he
intimates, are more observed in (he latter two of those Journals than
in the former, but <* at bottom, to reflective readers, there is the same
denial of revealed doctrines, and these attacks are the more dangerous
as the writers of the Journal Debats, and the Revue des Deux
Mondes take more cure to observe the rules of decorum. This then
is where the priests have conducted us to by their rash demands, by
their immoral maxims, by their return to superannuated superstitions."
Thus we see how the abuses of a corrupt form of religion are cited by
the enemies of Truth against the true Religion. The morals of the Ca-
tholic Church are turned against the credibility of the principles of re-
vealed Religion. To counteract this inundation of error there are only a
few congregations of the French Protestant Church — of the Lutheran
— the Methodist— the Independent — the Baptist — the Methodistic
Calvinists, and the Episcopalian Church of England, with some
supplementary machinery for Evangelical purposes, in the form of
Sunday Schools : — Three hundred and seventy in all. These Sunday
Schools, we regard, as the best hope of F^rance. May God use them
to the advancement, in an especial manner, of the interests of
Evangelical truth !

If we turn from France to Spain, we behold, on a smaller scale the
scenes that we have mourned over in the neighbouring country.
Nor are things better in Itaxy. In Lomhardy^ uader the Austrian
domination, the conscription is as grievously enforced as when the
Corsican had planted his despotic heel on that fair territory. Martial
law is proclaimed, but, alas I there remains little security for life or
property. In Tuscany ^ the Grand Duke has been Veak enough to
lend his ears to a Cabal of priests, wishing to favour Tuscany with a
Concordat a^r the model of the Austrian instrument of that kind.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Dawnings of the Future. 65

But here^ thank God^ there are some faint glimmerings of mental
freedom. Ruggieri was prosecuted for heresy. Only one man at the
Tuscan Bar had the courage to undertake his defence. That man was
Signer Salvagnoli. He performed his duty manfully. The Judges did
what men could do to secure a conviction, but the pleadings of Salva-
gnoli " were so powerful, the code of Leopold as yet unrepealed, was
proved to be so conclusive of the rights of conscience, and the moral
influence of public opinion was so great — the court being thronged
with auditors — that a judgment was given in favour of Ruggieri."
At Naples the state of things is, at once, a standing libel on the civili-
zation of the age, and an impressive commentaiy on the powers of
mortal endurance. King Bomba will scarcely find his own parallel in
history, except indeed in the despotic cruelty of one of the worst Cae-
sars, that ever disgraced the imperial purple, in the days of Ancient
Rome. It is said that facts speak louder than words. Take then the
following facts as illustrative of what has been going on, during the
year, in the Neapolitan territories.

I must call your attention to the condition of the prisoners in Monte
Sarchio. Of Baron Poerio I have spoken fully, but not of others, who are
labouring under different forma of disease, as Schiavone, who has lost the
aae of one eye and nearly that of the other ; Dono who has been in the
place set aside as the hospital for five months ; Pironti, labouring under
paralysis^ unable to move and in chains ; and, not to mention more, a young
man of thirty-four years, called Alfonso Zueli, who is dying of consumption
from the dampness of his prison^ reduced to a skeleton, scarcely able to
breathe or to speak ; he has had the last sacrament administered unto him,
and yet he is in chains J Closer than a brother his fetters cling to his
withered limbs, and no civilized age or country will ever perhaps have
witnessed such a proof of the tenacity of cruelty and vindictiveness.

Just take one other example : —

Agesilao Milano, being asked upon his trial whether he had anything to
add to what had been said for nim by his advocate, replied : — " I will
only ask you this one thing, Mr. President, let the humble petition of a
man who will scarcely see the sun of another day be presented at the
King's feet. My petition is, that the King will visit once the provinces of
his kingdom, and see the misery in which they are pining, and how his
subjects are governed there." As he mounted the scaflfold on the day of
his execution, he cried aloud, " Long live liberty ! long live our country ! "

These facts require no commentary. They show that beautiful coun-
try to be groaning beneath an intolerable pressure of social and reli-
gious Despotism. Let us now turn to the Chief States in Christendom
— ^those under the special management of the vaunted Representative
of St, Peter. In the Papal States we have witnessed an order of things,
during the past year, which has its counterpart only in Spain, and in the
Romish States of the New World. The land is going out of cultivation.
The people are the prey of bigotry and intolerance. " A spell is laid over
the moral as well as physical development of the country." Men are
dumb except with respect to the routine of ordinary life. They dare not
speak their minds to their nearest friends. Morally^ it is the case of
Abbeville, with a gag in his mouth, enacted over again in the person
of each. Roman ; but there is no voice now to awaken in favour of the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

66 Shadows of the Past^ Dawnings of the Future.

oppressed, the sympathies of all civilized men, ^' from Cadiz to Mos-
cow." In some places political arrests are the order of the daj ; io
every place '* the trail of a Police Agent taints the air." The natural
result is a deeply-rooted abhorrence of the accursed domiDioo of the
Pope among nearly all classes of his subjects, and a wide-spread
Scepticism with respect to that Religion whose precepts and doctrines
the Church has so grossly corrupted. Howsoever the authority of the
Pope may be respected in the Sister Kingdom^ it is an inconvertible
fact that in the head-quarters of the Popedom reverence of the Su-
preme Pontiff has become *' a tradition of the past." What a change,
since Hildebrand thundered forth his decrees from the Vatican, osten-
sibly 2i% "the servant of servants," realty as the universal Sovereign of
Christendom I — since his successors bestowed kingdoms on their tools
and cited monarchs before their tribunal ! Let foreign protection
be withdrawn from the Pope, and his Power would not be worth
seven days' purchase. The Roman people would soon settle the
question of his Kingly Rights. That he is a Sovereign Ruler, at
all, is wholly due to foreign intervention. As in the Albigensian,
the Wickliffian, and the Lutheran assaults on the Church of Borne,
it owed, in many countries, its preservation to the unscrupulous exer-
cise of the Power possessed by Popish rulers, so now the Pope owes
his political position, almost entirely to the bayonet of the Gaul and
the sword of the Swiss. But of what use is this mockery of Power ? —
when general scepticism has taken the place of implicit belief, and the
clergy are looked upon with merited contempt. The old adage, ** Vile
as a priest," has acquired a free currency in the States of the Church.
The Pope on last Easter Sunday, ascended to the Balcony of St«
Peter's according to usage, to go through the farce of blessing the
City I Never was blessing more needed.

'^ All, all is desolate ; lo ! all around
Death, and the funeral mound :
And all beneath throughout the Sacred Way
A dreary waste and wrecks on either side,
That solitude from solitude divide."

But surely no such mockery is anywhere else practised in the face
of day I He, bless the City ! What, he ? — whose misrule perpetuates
hot-beds of fever, and of every form of disease I What, he ? — whose
spies dog the steps of the citizen at every turn, and whose tribunal of
the Inquisition is set up to teach Orthodoxy by torture I He, bless the
City ! As soon might we expect the "Evil One" to teach us to "Bless
and Curse not," as a blessing on Rome from the living representative of
an An ti- Christian Power which has filled the city with the accumu-
lated abominations of the Papacy for the last thousand years. Alas ! for
Rome and her citizens, no blessing can they receive from the hands of
•this pretender to the succession of the Apostles. Curses they have
had in plenty ! Curses they still have, and curses they must have, so
long as his dominion lasts. Eighteen centuries ago, a citizen of
Rome in a distant country could boast, that he was " a Homan^^ but
now that name is a term of reproach throughout every nation of Eu-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

** The Hour is comeJ' 67

rope, and within the precincts of St. Peter's itself. Meanwhile
the Papacy is blind as ever. It is the boast of the Church that it
needs to learn nothing. It is true that Pius the Ninth does not learn
anything. He has performed a feat in the middle of the nineteenth
century, that might have provoked the ridicule of an Indian of the
^wilderness, in the middle of the sixteenth. On the memorable 8th of
X>ecember, One thousand eight hundred and fifty-four, he distin-
guished his Pontificate by declaring the Immaculate Conception of the
Virgin to be one of the dogmas of the Church. This was wonderful
enough, but it was eclipsed by a more signal act, if possible, during
the past year. His Holiness, towards the close of the year, edified
Europe and the World by the erection of a grand Pillar, to comme-
morate the promulgation of the dogma of " the Immaculate Concep*
tion !" Men may well inquire, What next ? — and What next ?

"THE HOUR IS COME."

John xvii. 1.

WoUDS uttered by remarkable men are frequently remembered with
interest after their decease. More especially is this true regarding words
which they have uttered at the close of "their earthly career. The words
of the text are worthy of everlasting remembrance from the dignity of the
speaker, and the solemnity of the circumstances under which he uttered
them. When our Redeemer addressed his eternal Father in the language
of the text, he was just entering on the performance of that glorious work
of redemption to efl'ect which he had come into the world. His life of toil
and travail was about to end in a death of ignominy and anguish. The
hour had come when he was to pass out of the world, and go to his Father.
The season was that of the Passover — one of peculiar interest and solemnity
— and as Jesus sat a,t supper with his chosen disciples, he began to give
them his parting counsel and his parting blessing. He addressed to them
many a comfortiuff and instructive word, and consoled them in reference to
his approaching departure, by giving them promises, spoken in tones of
tenderness, and prompted by pity, and mercy, and love. And when he
had concluded this farewell address to his friends and followers, he felt as
if his house was set in order, and his work was but to die. " These' words
spake Jesus, and lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, Father, the hour
is come ; glorify thy Son, that thy Son also may glorify thee.'*

What hour was this of which our Saviour so solemnly spoke. What
were its characteristics ; what were its bearings ; what was the import of
its events. The very indefiniteness of the phrase, shows that this hour
was one of no common moment — of no ordinary character. The Saviour
does not say, the awful hour, the important hour, the decisive hour, the
hour of death, has come, but uses a form of speech more impressive by its
elliptical character than any could have been which formally pointed out
the nature of the hour. The phrase is rendered comprehensive by its
vagueness, and emphatic by its very indefiniteness. It evidently points to
some characteristics standing out in broad relief, from those of ordinary
periods. It clearly refers to some occurrences reaching an altitude of im-
portance far transcending that of the most remarkable events of every-day

Digitized by VjOOQIC

68 " The Hour is come."

Undentanding the hour referred to in the text, as extending from the
moment -when Christ uttered these 'words to the moment when he howed
his head in death, we will endeavour to show what were some of its cha-
racteristics.

It was the most remarkable hour in the world's history. The world had
witnessed many a strange spectacle since first the morning stars sang to-
gether, and all the sons of God shouted for joy. Since creation's dawn, the
prolific womb of time had given birth to many an extraordinary and un-
expected event ; but the occurrences of this hour stand unparalleled and
alone for their greatness, importance, and sublimity. Its events were
unique. Similar occurrences never had taken place ; similar occiirrences
never shall take place again, while time runs on, or even eternity endures.
Nature in convulsions — splitting rocks — darkening heavens — opening
graves — rising saints — rending vail — all gave evidence that events of a
most striking character, were transpiring during this hour. Daring this
hour the Judge of all the earth, stood like a culprit before an earthly bar :
the world's Creator was bufieted and set at naught by the work of his own
hands : a sinless, spotless being, was nailed to the cross like the vilest
malefactor : the Prince of Life was taken by wicked hands, was cmcified,
was slain. One, the very embodiment of compassion, was treated with
fiendlike cruelty : the most fierce and angry passions were stirred up
against the meekest of men : love was met with scowling hatred, and envy,
wrath, and malice, glared w^ith furious eyes on him, whose mission was
peace on earth, and good-will to men. Incarnate Deity voluntarily sub-
mitted to shame and anguish to redeem a world of sinners. Immanuel
bled and died in the room of guilty man.

It was the most momentous hour in the world's history. There have
been times when a man's comfort, reputation, and life, depended on the
transactions of an hour. The temporal condition of a family has often been
materially affected by the occurrences of a very brief period of time.
Interests of greater moment than any of these, than all of these, depend-
ed on the hour spoken of in the text. Kot the temporal condition of a
man, a family, a nation, but the eternal destinies of mankind depended
on the transactions of this hour. Now the cup of vicarious suffering was
to be presented to the lips of incarnate God. If he shrank back from it,
refused to drink it, man would be left without help, refuge or shelter,
exposed to the thunderbolts of Jehovah's wrath. But if he drank the
bitter draught, then the world would be redeemed, a way of return opened
to the favour of an offended God, mercy and truth would meet together,
righteousness and peace embrace each other ; never had such awfully
important interests been dependent on the events of an hour.

It was an hour for the fulfilment of ancient types and prophecies. Of
this hour Moses in the law and the prophets did write. The events of
this hour types forshadowed and prophecies foretold. This hour was
pointed at in the primeval promise, and reference was made to it in clearer
or more ambiguous terms down to the delivery. of the last Messianic
prophecy. The bleeding sacrifices of the ancient dispensations typified the
{Saviour's atoning sufferings. Seers whose tongues were touched with the
fire of inspiration spoke of his agony and death, — predicting different
circumstances attendant on his decease, and their prophecies converged to
this hour as to a centre point. This hour was a focus which collected the
scattered rays of prophetic light. Now the law and the prophets were to
be fulfilled, type was to give way to antitype, substance to replace shadow,
and the utterances of the sacred oracle in all their multitudinous minuteness
and variety receive incontrovertible accomplishment, in the sufferings,
death, and subsequent resurrection of the incarnate God.

It was the hour appointed hy the Father for tlie death of His Illustrious

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

" The Hour is corned 69

Son, ^ For every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose
under heaven.*' ^' A time to be born and a time to die." There was an
appointed time for Christ to be born and for Christ to die. We may not
be able to discover the peculiar fitness of the period when Jesus became
incarnate, and when he died for our sins. Partially we may discern it, yet
I imagine not completely ; yet, evidently there was something peculiarly
fitting in that period for the accomplishment of Jehovah's purposes —
Christ came in the fullness of time and died at the appointed season. In
your scripture reading you cannot have failed to observe, that any circum-
stances which might have hastened the Redeemer's death, were controlled
and overruled by the providence of God.- Men's designs were frustrated,
man's wrath was impotent, hia arm was powerless against Christ, until
Jehovah removed His restraints when the appointed hour had come. The
Nazarenes sought to thrust him over the brow of the hill on which their
ciiy was built, but he passed through them unharmed, — "His hour Vas not
yet come." When he taught in the temple and the chief priests and
scribes were mad against Him, still they could not lay hands upon Him,
'' for his hour was not yet come." It is worthy of remark, that when Jesus
was arrested by his enemies, they had a traitor to deliver him into their
hands ; they went out at the hour of night, they sought in a private retreat
where long ere that they might have taken him as he was teaching in the
temple ; where they could have apprehended him without paying a traitor,
going any distance, or travelling through the night. That they did not do
so is explicable only by the fact, that GoA interposed between his Son, and
fais Son's enemies, until the hour in which he had predetermined to permit
the foes of Jesus to pour out their wrath and fury on his devoted head.
Now that hour — the appointed hour — had come.

It was an hour expected hy Je9u» himself. In eternity the Second person
of the Trinity undertook to become man, for man to die ; and as all things
are ever present to his omniscient mind, the events of this hour were the
subject of his contemplations, ere he became incarnate. And when he
covered hia primeval glory by the veil of humanity — when he was found in
fashion as a man, he lived in continual anticipation of the advent and
occurrences of this solemn and mysterious hour. To pass through this
hour was indeed the design of his incarnation. He assumed life that he
might taste death. And during the course of his earthly pilgVimage he
never forgot that this hour lay before him. In solitude and in the crowd —
in the desert and in the city — in rest and in labour — in active benevolence,
or passive sufTering— Gethsemane's garden and Calvary's cross, were pre-
sent to his thoughts and feelings. As the high mountain is beheld by the
traveller, long ere he reaches its base, or attempts its ascent, and as it casts
its shadow upon him, whether he reclines on the flowery meadow, rests by
the cooling spring, or wearily toils on his way through the morass, or over
the heath, so Christ beheld afar off his last sufferings and sorrows, and
they cast their mysterious shade over every step of his earthly journey.
Not that they were beheld with fearful forebodings, not that their contem-
plation filled him with alarm and anguish. Jesus, it is true, possessed the
same innocent susceptibilities which we do, and there may therefore have
heen a feeling of apprehension at the thought of his approaching agony ;
but there were present to his mind considerations which counterbalanced,
and fistr outweighed those innocent apprehensions, and even made him
vehemently desire the approach of that period when he was to bleed,
suffer, and die» As ia the hour of twilight the shades of approaching
night are tempered — gilded by the rays of the setting sun— so the Re-
deemer's anticipations of the agony of the garden and the cross, were
mingled with the thoughts of the stupendous results that would follow its
endurance, the glory that would redound to God, the redemption that

Digitized by VjOOQIC

70 « The H<mr is come:*

would be wrongbt for man. And these considerations appear to have

Erompted in the mind of the Redeemer an earnest longing for the arrival of
is appointed hour to die. *' I have a baptism to be baptized with, and
how am I straitened till it be accomplished." Now that hour had come
to which Jesus had looked forward -" Father," said he, " the hour is
come "—the hour which I have contemplated, expected, desired.

It teas the hour of our Saviour's deepest humiliation. Our Saviour's
earthly life was a life of humiliation. He humbled himself in aasnming
our frail, mortal nature. What a tremendous stoop was it, from a throne
of glory to a manger cradle ! Many a trembling event had Jesas to pass
through ; many a humiliating circumstance had he to endure. Bat this
hour, the hour of which our Saviour speaks, was the hour of his deepest
humiliation. During this hour he was mocked, reviled, buffeted, spat
upon — basely betrayed, and sold — tried and treated as an offender — with
scarcely the form of law condemned to a shameful death ! He was deeply
humbled in hU person. How every feeling of manhood recoils not only at
the injustice, but at the ignominy with which Christ was treated. To have
saliva roided on one*s cheek ; to have oue*s tenderest feelings trampled
upon ; to be classed with base and abandoned criminals — what hnnuliation
were this ! Such was the humiliation Jesus endured ! He was deeply
humbled in his offices. He was humbled as a prophet. Infamous han<k
smote him — infamous voices cried prophecy who smote thee ! Oh ! if no
deep repentance followed those daring and impious acts, how those hands
shall be wrung in hell ! — how those voices shall shriek and wail through a
long and a lost eternity ! He was humbled as a priest. He was the
Divine victim who died for the sins of mankind ! but when making pro-
pitiation for the world's iniquity, the beholders cried, *' He saved others,
himself he cannot save ! " — his companions in suffering cast the same in
his teeth. He was humbled in his kingly office, for in his pre-existent state,
angels and archangels gladly bowed to his sovereign will ; but now the King
of Glory had none so poor as to do him reverence ! Pilate said, "• Behold
your King ! " — but tne multitude exclaimed, ^ We have no king but
Caesar ! " True, they crowned him, but it was with thorns ; — they decked
him with a gorgeous royal robe, but they did it in mockery and derision !
Pilate wrote, " This is Jesus of Nazereth, King of the Jews !" — but this
was over the cross where his mangled body hung exposed and bare. What
humiliation was this ! Yes, this— this was the hour of his deepest humi-
liatioD.

It was the hour of our Saviour's greatest sufferings. The life of Jesus
was a suffering life—

'' Inured to poverty and pain,
A suffering life my Master led.*'

He was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief Many an honr of
poignant suffering transpired during the short life of the Redeemer. But
this was the hour of his greatest sufferings. Now agonies had to be
endured compared with which all his former sufferings were but as the
small dust of the balance. During this hour he endured suffering inten-
sified, concentrated, accumulated. He suffered every way in which it was
possible fur a sinless being to suffer. He suffered in his body. Death by
crucifixion was extremely painful — Jesus endured it —

'' His sacred limbs, they stretch, they tear,
With nails they fasten to the wood ;
His sacred limbs,— exposed and bare»
Or only covered with his blood 1 "

Although Jesus did not linger on the cross so long as sufferers usually did,
vet during the time he hung upon the cross his bodily suffering must have
been extreme.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

" The Hour is come.*' 71

He suffered in his mind. We could form no adequate conception of the
Saviour's last sufferings, if we only considered his physical anguish. He
bad mental sufferings to undergo much more severe than his physical
pangs. " My soul," he said in the garden, " my soul is exceeding sorrowful
even unto death" — there his indescribable mental sufferings made the
sweat to fall like great drops of blood to the ground ! Who can tell what
mental agony he endured on the cross ere he cried, '^ It is finished," and
gave up the Ghost ?

He suffered /rom his foes. Much had Jesus to bear from his enemies
prior to this hour. They had pursued him through every lane of life ;
but now their rage was to be fully glutted on that innocent and spotless
being, who sought only their eternal good. They were plotting against
Jesus when he uttered the words of our text ; and soon they arrested him,
— led him as a sheep to the slaughter - suborned him— condemned him —
crucified him ! " Vox populi, vox Dei," says the Roman adage, but during
this hour the people's voice was a voice from Hell, and cried, ** Away with
him — away with him !'* — " Crucify him — crucify him !" Was there ever
such a display of the blackest passions of the human heart, as here by the
enemies of Jesus 1 Ingratitude, hatred, hypocrisy, envy, malice, falsehood,
unwarrantable suspicion, pride, cruelty, self-will, are all here rank and
rampant.! 0 horrible catalogue ! O monstrous combination ! It seemed
BrS if the spirits of the old murderers had returned, as if Cain and Lamech,
bad come back to take part in a deed congenial to their nature — as if
-woman had given birth to a generation of fiends, or as if devils damned
bad come up from the vaults and caverns of hell, to animate human bodies
and reek their rancorous enmity to God, on the person of his well-beloved
Son. It was in fact as one has observed, the culminating point of the
-world's enmity. Since the fall the tide of depravity swelled higher and
bigher, till it reached the summit of Mount Calvary ; it could go no higher
than that— it has receded since, and shall continue to recede under the
power of Truth, till the earth is overflowed and the universe filled with
the glory of God.

He suffered from his friends. A wound is doubly sharp when a friend
deals the blow. " It was not an enemy that reproached me," says David,
" then I might have borne it ;" — and the sentiment finds a response in
every breast. The Redeemer bad to experience what it is to be deserted
by friends. When the shepherd was smitten, all the sheep were scattered
abroad. One disciple betrayed him, another denied him ; all forsook him
and fled. " What are these wounds in thy hands, Jesus, thou friend of
sinners 1" " These are they with which I was wounded in the house of
my friends."

He suffered from Satan. When man fell, the promise of a deliverer was
given ; but it was said that while the promised Saviour would bruise the
serpent's head, the serpent would bruise his heel. During this hour the
prediction was accomplished. This was Satan's hour and the power of
darkness.

And thus, assaulted by foes, and forsaken by friends— enduring the com-
bined attacks of earth and hell— is it possible to make his fire of torture
burn yet fiercer, or mix his cup with a yet more bitter ingredient.
Wondrous to tell« he had to endure anguish much more extreme and
awful, than that to which we have already adverted.

He suffered from God. He seemed not only to be forsaken by earth,
but to be cast off by heaven. It pleased the Lord to bruise him — He put
bim to grief. The Lord afflicted him in the day of his fierce anger. This
was his greatest, heaviest load. This was the burden hardest to bear,
from by past eternity the uncreated Son had received the full stream of
bis Father's infinite love^ never had its flow been interrupted for a mo-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

72 " The Hour is come:'

ment ; lie began his earthly ministry with his Father's testimony of his
approval ; during all his course he had been cheered and supported by it ;
amid every disquietude this was a source of abiding peace. But now he
was deprived of this sense of his Father s affection, and he felt an awful
pressure aud an awful blank. He had endured all his other sufferings in
silence ; when men reviled, he reviled not again : he was led as a lamb to
the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened
not his mouth ; he meekly endured all his other agonies without uttering
a word. But when God forsook him, when he who had the most exquisite
appreciation of God's favour, felt as if God had cast him ofif, felt like a
man who has no God — then it seemed as if he who had silently suffered un-
utterable anguish could not endure the mysterious desertion, and he cried,
** My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me !"

Here let us pause. The line of human penetration does not extend to
this incomprehensible boundary of the Bredeemer's sufferings. We can
form some conjecture of those sufferings which ordinary humanity might
have undergone. We may ideally grasp those pains Jesus endured from
the cruel nature of his death, the defection of his disciples, the enmity of
his foes ; but when we attempt to fathom or explore those sufferings he
endured as a sin-atoning victim, our efforts are altogether vain; these
sufferings are an ocean without a bottom and without a shore. We may
travel along the way of suffering our Saviour trod, and with the mental
eye survey each scene of suffering and sorrow, but soon we come to a place
impenetrable and impassable by human foot, and where even angels abnost
fear to tread. Let us therefore cease our researches — let us sit down in
wonder and in love, exclaiming —

" 'Tis mystery all— let us adore —
Let angel minds inquire no more.'*

" Behold, and see if there was any sorrow like unto his sorrow !"

" O Lamb of God, was ever pain,
Was ever love like thine ?"

It was the hour of our Saviour^s triumph and glory, — What could that
be to our Eedeemer, an hour of triumph, during which he was delivered
into the hands of those who hated him, bore their heaviest malediction
and their fiercest wrath ? Could that be to him an hour of glory, in which
he suffered deep abasement, and died a death of ignominy and shame 1—
strange that He who was cast off by men, and seemed to be forsaken by
God, should be advancing to new exaltation and gaining a victory over
every foe. It is not more strange than true. The hour when Christ hung
upon the cross, the hour of his deepest humiliation, the hour of his greatest
sufferings, was yet the hour of his triumph and glory. When the night is
darkest the dawn is nearest, so in the midnight of the Saviour's sufferings,
a splendour, lustre, dazzling brightness, was gathering round his honoured
name. As in the midst of storm and tempest, a ray of light will break
through the dark clouds, a harbinger of approaching serenity and sunshine,
80 in the midst of that storm of trouble which burst on the head of the
Man of sorrows, there was a presage of eternal glory, and a promise of
unclouded day. In that solemn and mysterious hour Satan bruised
Messiah's heel, but he crushed and broke for ever the serpent Satan's
head. At the very moment when Christ's friends were filled with terror
and amazement, when his enemies were rejoicing and saying " Aha ! so
would we have it," when the hosts of hell were indulging in fiendish
exultation at their imagined success, at that very moment Christ was
accomplishing the glorious purpose to effect which he had come into the
world, he was triumphing over principalities and powers, soon to make a
show of them openly. When the kingdom of darkness was seemingly

^.■^~ ■ Digitized by VjOOQIC

Reminiscences. 73

prevailing, its foundations were shaking, and its pillars crumbling into
dust. In the hour of his sufferings and sorrow Jesus was deserted by his
fishermen-followers, but through the efficacy of those very sufferings he
shall yet see a seed, a multitude which no man can number, redeemed
from every nation, and kindred, and people, and tongue. In that hour,
enduring the cross, despising the shame, he effected a work glorifying God
and saving to man, and not only so but a work which makes His name
tower high over every name, procures for Him glory and honour, and a seat
in His twofold nature at the right hand of the Majesty on High ! O
surely then, though this was the hour of Christ's deepest humiliation and
intensest sufferings, it was also the hour of his triumph and the hour of his
glory.

We have seen what this hour was Christward, what was it usward 1
On this we cannot dwell, but simply remark, it was the hour of our own
redemption, the hour when reconciliation was made for our iniquitous
nature, full atonement was offered for our sins. Christ bore our sins in his
own body on the tree. Our sins brought the waters over the soul of Jesus,
our sins made that hour to Christ an hour of pain and grief, our sins pointed
the nail and fixed the thorn, and on the broad and firm foundation of
Christ's atoning mark, God offers to all men, a fiill, free, and present
salvation. He is in Christ reconciling the world unto himself. Let us
beware of incurring the awful guilt of rejecting this gift, blood^bought and
heaven-sent. Let us avoid the condenmation of them that believe not,
let us seek the eternal life which God has given, which life is in his Son.
" He that hath the Son hath life, but he that hath not the Son shall not
see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him."

REMINISCENCES.
THE LATE DE. CHALMERS.

1. THE doctor's firstborn.

On entering Elilmany one Sabbath morning, I was informed that Mrs.
Chalmers had, during the preceding night, presented the Doctor with his
first child. On meeting with him I adverted to the circumstance, and
inquired how Mrs. Chalmers and the child were getting on. He replied,
*Tney are as well as could be expected, but I could not have conceived
that an event of this kind would have occasioned such a stir ; that so
niany persons would have been employed about it ; that there would have
been such a running up and down stairs, and from one apartment to
another ; and all this bustle about bringing into the world a creature not
three feet long.' I observed that no bustle would be more cheerfully
submitted to than that which takes place at the birth of a child, whose
utter helplessness makes so irresistible an appeal to our sympathy and
tenderness. And as to the child not being three feet long, we must
estimate its value as we do that of a young tree, not by the smallness of
its dimensions, but bv the size that we expect it to attain. ' There may be
some truth in that,' said the Doctor smiling, ' but really such a bustle
as the house was thrown into by this affair I was quite unprepared to
expect.'

2. THE doctor's absence OF UTND.

Of the bewilderment to which contemplative persons are liable, the
Doctor exhibited a ludicrous instance, by coming on one occasion from
Kilmaoy to Cupar, with a pair of stockings, of which the one was of

G

Digitized by VjOOQlC

74 Reminiscences.

a quite different pattern from that of the other.* The person on whom he
had called, and from whom I had the anecdote, pointed out to the
astonished Doctor the mistake he had committed. Dr. Chalmer's toilet
was soon despatched.

3. THE doctor's indifference to dress.

To the adyantage which dress gives to the external appearance he was
remarkably indifferent. He might have been seen walking about Kilmany
in such faded habiliments as would have made a person who did not know
him, suppose that his condition was a large remove beneath that of a
clergy man. On one occasion, when walking to Cupar, accompanied by my
broUier, I encountered the Doctor on the Kilmany road, and stopped a few
minutes to converse with him. When I overtook my brother, who had
gone forward, he said that he wondered how I had become acquainted with
the beadle of the parish. 'The beadle ! ' I exclaimed. ' Don't judge by
the outward appearance. Ho is the minister of the parish, the celebrated
Dr. Chalmers, with whom any one, however exalted his rank, might be
pi*oad to be acquainted.'

4. THE D0CT0R*S CALIOBAPHT.

A specimen of caligrapby so diflScult to decipher as that of Dr. Chalmers
I believe it would not be easy to find. His letters were so shapeless, so
unlike those they were designed to represent, that you would have been
almost tempted to think that he intended to mystify his meaning and
perplex his correspondent. 1 once received a letter from him, which
nobodv to whom I showed it could read, and which I believe would have
baffled all my attempts to do so, had I not been previously acquainted with
the subject to which it referred.

5. THE doctor's IGNORANCE IN SIMPLE MATTERS.

Studious persons are sometimes surprisingly ignorant how to act on
ordinary occasions. Dr. Chalmers came home one evening on horseback,
and as neither the man who had the charge of his horse nor the key of tbe
stable could be found, he was for some time not a little puzzled where to
find a temporary residence for the animal. At last be fixed on the garden,
as the fittest place he could think of for the purpose ; and having led the
horse thither, he placed it on the garden walk. When his sister, who had
also been from home, returned, and was told that the key Of the stable
could not ];>e found, she inquired what had been done with the horse. 'I
took it into the garden,' said the Doctor. ' To the garden ! ' she exclaimed ;
' then all our flower and vegetable beds will be destroyed.' ' Don't be
afraid of that,' said the Doctor, * for I took particular care to place the
horse on the garden walk.' ' And did you really imagine,* rejoined the
sister, * that he would remain there 1 ' '1 have no doubt of it,' said the
Doctor ; 'for so sagacious an animal as the horse could not but be aware of
the propriety of refraining from injuring the products of the garden.'
* I am afraid,' said Miss Chalmers, * that you will think less favourably of
the discretion of the horse when you have seen the garden.' To decide
the controversy by an appeal to facts, they went to the garden, and found,
from the ruthless devastation which the trampling and rolling of the
animal had spread over every part of it, that the natural philosophy of
the horse was a subject with which the lady was far more accurately
acquainted than her learned brother. ' I never could have imagined,' said
the Doctor, ' that horses were such senseless animals.' "

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Reminiscences, 75

THE LATE DR. HARRIS.

Am to Dr. Harris's genius, a posterity judging more wisely than his
contemporaries, from his later and more mature works rather than from
those which created such & furore amongst ourselves, will probably rate it
more highly than we do. Time, we are persuaded, will only serve to
mellow his £une, especially as a theologian. It was on his " Pre-Adamite
Earth,'' ^ Man Primeval," '^ Patriarchy," with the other unfinished treatises
of the series, ^ The State," and " The Church," that he had lavished the
stores of his very original thinking and of his ample erudition. When the
plastic hand of some competent editor shall have moulded into shape the
posthumous materials for the two latter productions, so as to complete the
colossus, and to enable us to judge of the grand design as a whole, it will
be seen more clearly than is now possible, that it is not merely a popular
preacher and religious writer, but one entitled to be styled in the best and
highest sense, "a master in Israel," who has passed from our midst.

An impression has been long and pretty widely prevalent that the dis-
covery of his talents only dates from the publication of his «" Mammon,"
and eui captandum appeals to the modest aspirations of '*mute inglorious**
Harrises still lying perdus in '* the dark unfathomed caves " of other Epsoms,
have been now and then founded on the assumed fact. It is to be hoped
that these <* gems " and " flowers " in petto have something better wherewith
to console their hidden blushing and fining than this fiction ; for a fiction
it will turn out to be. No doubt Dr. Conquest's prize was the means of
bringing the humble Dissenting pastor before the eyes of the great public,
whidi from that time never lost sight of him again. But, not to spedk of
die immediate recognition of the high merits of his ^ Great Teacher " by
the Eclectic and other reviewers, we are able to affirm, on the authority of a
ministerial friend of ours who was two years a fellow-student with Dr.
Harris at Hoxton Academy, that something extraordinary was discerned in
him by many from his very first entrance upon college life. Through the
kindness of the gentleman referred to, we have it in our power, without
unduly trenching upon the province of the professed biographer, to
communicate a few facts belonging to this early period of the brilliant
career so recently brought to a happy and triumphant close. These
scattered reminiscences will not be without their interest to our readers at
the present time.

Several years back, we remember to have heard that so distinctly was Dn
Harris's preaching talent acknowledged, even whilst " only a student," that
he was wont to be paid a compliment on this score which was never accorded
to any other alumnus of Hoxton either before or since. It is usual, in the
Dissenting Colleges, for the members of the Divinity class in turn to com-
pose, and then to read, in the presence of the professor and of the class, a
sermon, which is afterwards subjected to pretty searching criticism on all
sides. Now it has been said that, whenever it was young Harris's turn to
prepare such a homiletical exercise, not only his classmates, but the whole
college, ordinarily claimed the privilege of hearing it. Our present infor-
mant left Hoxton before the subject of this anecdote rose to the Divinity
class, and he confesses that he never heard of the fact, which, since he was '
in the habit of corresponding with several of his fellow-students after his
leaving, he thinks he should have done, had there been any truth in the
account He distinctly recollects, however, that a college sermon of Harris's
on the text (Acts xxiv. 16), made a very great sensation both within and
without the walls of the institution. He states, moreover, of his own
knowledge, that, having occasion for the services of a student for his own
pulpit during his first vacation after his settlement, he accordingly applied

G 2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

76 Reminiscences,

to the late Thomas Wilson, Esq^ the treasurer of the academy, ^ho asked
him whom he would deem an aoceptahle snpply. The name of Harris was
instantly mentioned, upon which Mr. Wilson, stroking his chin as usual,
-remarked, ** Well, Sir, yon must have him then, hut you are of course aware
that Mr. Harris is the best preacher in the house."

But how, then, it may be asked, if such were his reputation already,
came he to be banished to such a penal settlement as Epsom ? The answer
is very simple. From the first he was of a very debilitated frame, and
this precluded his acceptance of a more exacting sphere of labour. But
for this it is probable that he would have been the first pastor of the
Kusholme-road Chapel, Manchester, which was just ready for him as he
lefb Hoxton, and for which post his name was actually discussed. The
circumstances were these. At the ordination of the Rev. Luke Foster, as
successor to Dr. (then Mr.) Joseph Fletcher, in the pastorate of the
church at Blackburn, in Lancashire, there were present, besides the offici-
ating ministers, several of Mr. Foster*s fellow-students at Hoxton, amongst
them Messrs. Harris, Hague, and our informant. After the ceremony,
these, with the Rev. Walter Scott, who had given the charge, made an
excursion to Manchester. Mr. Scott, now Professor Emeritus of Airedale
College, had prepared young Harris for college, at his seminary at Kowell,
in Northamptonshire, and always entertained the highest opinion of his
abilities. It was during this Manchester visit, that the conversation rela-
tive to Mr. Harris's settlement at Busholme-road took place, but, owing
to his weak state of health, nothing further came of it ; and he ultimately
retired to the easier, if more obscure, position which Epsom presented,
where the Wranghams, into whose family he subsequently married, under-
took that their house should be his home, and that nothing should be
wanting on their part to secure his comfort and the speedy recovery, if
possible, of his shattered bodily tone. We should not omit to mention,
that during the same trip to Lancashire, Mr. Hague, in talking with oar
friend about their talented fellow-student, took occasion to compare him to
South. Mr. Hague was first settled over an English Independent congre-
gation at Rotterdam, and afterwards at Lower Darwen, in Lancashire,
where he died at an early age. Indeed, there was but one opinion of
Harris's miud and heart amongst his college companions. His genial
humour and wit were particularly conspicuous from the beginning, which
accounts for the parallel so soon recognised between him and South.

As early as 1827, and it is believed even before that date, he began to
contribute to the periodical literature of the day. It is surmised that the
'* Congregational Magazine *' contains his first printed essay. However
that may be, it is known that at the period mentioned he was wont pretty
frequently to appear before the reading public under the signature *' Aspi-
rate," in the pages of a weekly (afterwards monthly) magazine, published
by Westley and Davis, and entitled the " Spirit and Manners of the Age."
The publication was eventually merged in the " British Magazine." The
volumes for 1827 contain many papers by *< Aspirate." There is one in
particular on " Egotism " (" Spirit and Manners,'' vol. iiL, p. 225), which is
noticeable from its cdhtaining the portraiture of one of the author's fiellow-
students, who seems to have been almost a perfect exemplification of that
vice. His name (which, of course, is not given in the original, but need
not now be withheld) was Jones, and the passage, which is very character-
istic, is as follows :— " I once knew a thorough-paced egotist, and I would
not willingly part with the idea which I retain of him. It was the fulness,
the perfection of his egotism alone, which rendered I's supportable. Had
he been less egotistical, he would have been intolerable, simply because he
would not have appeared incurable. Had he occasionally descended from
his stiltS) his friends might have cherished a hope that he might gradually

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Jieminiscences, 77

be tanght to walk upon the earth. But he never disappointed their hopes,
for he never excited any. Had he occasionally enjoyed a lucid interval^
an attempt might have been made at exorcism. But the demon of egot-
ism never left him, so that no one could hesitate to pronounce him incu-
rable. It was scarcely possible to ofifend him by any of the ordinary means
of giving offence. Convict him of ignorance, his self-confidence remained
unshaken. He felt assured, in his own miud^ that he had read or heard to
the effect of what he had stated ; or, he was not in the habit of forming an
opinion hastily, nor should he be hasty in relinquishing it. Politely requer t
him to withdraw, he evidently pitied you for defrauding yourself of the
pleasure of his company. Tax him with egotism, he professed himself to
hate nothing so cordially. But if it was difficult to displease him, it was a
proverbial impossibility to put him on indifferent terms with hioiself. If
he ever admitted, for a moment, that he could, in any single point, be more
perfect than he -was, it was done so blandly— with so many alleviating ex-
pressions, and assurances of self-esteem, that he could not possibly be
offended with himself ; and, moreover, it was always the certain forerunner
of invidious comparisons with those around him, and ended in torrents of
self-gratulation. He was a happy instance of the prineiple of gravitation
—for he was his own centre, and to that he tended with a constancy and
force of determination which nothing external could ever disturb —

And J 8, self-balanced, on his centre hung."

Of this fly in amber, the illustrious Jones, many traits are recorded which
fully bear out the above description. He seems to have been an incor-
rigible dandy. On one occasion, when Harris was supplying at Leather-
head, in Surrey, during a college vacation, Jones came to see him there,
but more so, it turned out, for the purpose of displaying a new pair of
pantaloons of which he had possessed himself, than n*om motives of friend-
ship. "Harris," he said, as soon as they. were alone, "don't you admire
my pantaloons 1" ** Well, I don't know," said his companion, " what is
there special about them 1" " Why, my boy," said the triumphant cox-
comb, " they're number eJevensJ*^ And on being taken to Box-hdl, instead
of becoming absorbed in the glorious scenery, his head was still full of the
snbject, so that instead of the expected ejaculation, " splendid view !" he
broke forth, at the very summit of the ascent, with the astounding contrc'
temps, "Ah, my boy, you should get a pair of number elevens/** On one
occasion, however, the egotist's self-complacency seems to have been actu-
ally shaken by a practical joke played upon him at college, in which affair
" Aspirate " was no doubt a principal actor. The bonassus was, at that
time, the great novelty at Exeter Change ; and a burlesque letter in Black-
iDoodf describing the London sights, and alluding to this animal in the rapt
exclamation of ignorant bewilderment, " Who could make a bonassus, Mrs.
Price ?" had made the phrase current at Hoxton, as a sort of cant saying,
of which Harris was somewhat fond. This, however, is by the way, apro'
pos of the animal in question ; and now to our anecdote. Jones, whose
loyalty to himself was manifested in acts of physical as well as metaphy-
sical homage to his sovereign, was in the haoit of treating himself once a
week (on Friday) to a lobster, or some other delicacy, of which he had
never been known to ask any fellow-student to partake. This selfishness
it was decreed to punish. One evening, accordingly, an immense placard
was suspended at the extremity of the supper-room, inscribed with the
announcement, " That wonderful animal, the bonassus ; feeding time at
half-past nine." Punctually at that time, in stalked Jones with his crus-
tacean to the tune of a charivari of fiddles, fire-irons, &c., which had been
prepared for his special entertainment, amid the shouts of the showman,
*^ Walk in, ladies and gentlemen ) feeding time is just begun !" The fM)or

Digitized by VjOOQIC

78 The Destruction of Jerusalem,

yictim tried to eat, but it was of no use, and he ruslied out of the hornetd*
nest which his selfishness had raised about his ears. The last time he was
seen was at New York, where, on being accosted by an old chnm with,
" Ah, Jones, how do you do r he bridled up with ineffable dignity, sim|]*
deigning to reply, in the most measured accents, " I'm — in — the — Chti
and at once turned upon his heel.

THE JEWS AFTER THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM

BY TITUS.

"The stars twinkled just as they had done in happier days over the
burning walls of Masada. Beneath rolled the Dead Sea— the monument
of foreign wrath and war ; in the distance, as far as the eye could reach,
the desolate landscape bore the marks of the oppressor. Before them was
the camp of the Roman, who watched with anxiety for his nrey and the
morrow. All was silence in Masada. Defence now seemed impossible,
and certain death stared the devoted garrison in the face. Despair settled
on the stoutest heart, deepened by the presence and the well-known fate of
the women and children. Nought was heard but the crackling of burning
timbers, and the ill-suppressea moans of the wives and children of the
garrison. Then for the last time Eleazar summoned his warriors. In
language such as fierce despair alone could have inspired on his, or brooked
on their part, he reminded them of their solemn oath— to gain freedom or
to die. One of these alternatives alone remained for them — to die. The
men of war around him had not quailed before any enemy, yet they shrank
from the proposal of their leader. A low murmur betokened their disap-
probation. Then flashed EIeazar*s eye. Pointing over the burning
rampart to the enemy, and in the distance towards Jerusalem, he related
with fearful truthfulness, the fate which awaited them on the morrow : —
to be slain by the enemy, or to be reserved for the arena ; to have their
wives devoted in their sight to shame, and their children to torture
and slavery. Were they to choose this alternative, or a glorious death,
and with it liberty — a death in obedience to their oath, in devotedness
to their God and to their country ? The appeal had its effect. It was
not sudden madness, nor a momentary frenzy, which seized these men
when they brought forth, to immolate them on the altar of their liberty,
their wives, and their children, their chattels, and ranged themselves
each by the side of all that had been dear to him in the world. The
last glimmer of hope had died out, and with the determination of despair,
the last defenders of Judea prepared to perish in the flames which en-
veloped its last fortress. First, each heaped together his household gear,
associated with the pleasures of other days, and set fire to it. Again they
pressed to their hearts their wives and children. Bitter were the tears
wrung from these iron men; yet the sacrifice was made unshrinkingly,
and each plunged his sword into the hearts of his wife and children. Now
they laid themselves down beside them, and locked them in tender emhrace
— now the embrace of death. Cheerfully they presented their breasts
to ten of their number, chosen by lot to put the rest of their brethren
to death. Of these ten, one had again been fixed upon to slay the remain-
ing nine. Having finished his bloody work, he looked around to see
whether any of the band yet required his service. But all was silent.
The last survivor then approached as closely as possible to his own family
and fell upon his sword. Nine hundred bodies covered the ground.

'* Morning dawned upon Masada, and the Romans eagerly approached
its walls — but within was the silence of death. A feint was apprehended,
and the soldiers advanced cautiously, raising a shout, as if the defenders on

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

The Destruction of Jerusalem, 79

tlie wall implored the help of their brethren. Then two women, who, with
five children, had concealed thems^ves in vaults during the murderous
scene of the preceding evening, came forth from their retreat to tell the
Romans the sad story. So fearfully strange did it sound, that their
statement was scarcely credited. Slowly the Romans advanced; then
rushing through the flames, they penetrated into the court of the palace.
There lay the lifeless bodies of tne garrison and their families. It was not
a day of triumph even to the enemy, but one of awe and admiration. They
buried the dead and withdrew, leaving a garrison. ' O Jerusalem, Jerusa-
lem, that killest the prophets,' &c. * Therefore, behold, your house is left
unto you desolate.'

"Thus terminated the war of Jewish nationality. Various causes
conspired to make this contest one of the most obstinate ever witnessed.
The Roman legions were led by the ablest generals of the empire, and
instigated by the recollection of the shameful defeat which they had sus-
tained at the commencement of the war, and by the obstinate resistance
now made by a small and un warlike race whom they had long affected to
despise. Nor was the issue of the struggle unimportant to the Roman
state. Defeat under any circumstances would have been the first step in
the decadence of an empire whose provinces bore so disproportionate
a relation to the dominant country. Besides, Roman rule had never been
firmly established eastward of Judea, and on that account the latter
country presented an important military position. Finally the triumph of
the Jews would have been fatal to the prestige of Rome in the East, and
probably become the signal for a general rising in the neighbouring
provinces. On the other hand, the Jews fought for national existence, for
political and religious liberty, for their lives, for their hearths and homes.
Flushed at first by victory, relying on the zeal and enthusiasm of the
whole nation, and defending themselves in their own country and among its
fastnesses against the foreign invaders, the Jews fought with the despair of
men who knew what awaited them in case of defeat. Besides they relied
on promised succours from their brethren in the East, or at least on a
diversion in their favour. Nor was this contest merely one for national
independence ; it was essentially also a religious war. Jerusalem was not
only a political but also a religious capital. In fighting for their country,
the Jews fought also for their religion, which, indeed, was almost inse-
parable from the soil of Palestine, and hence, as they thought, for the name
and cause of their God. Were it requisite, proofs could readily be adduced
of this. Even after they had been defeated, it was stated by the theolo-
gical expositors of popular sentiment, that since the day of the destruction
of the temple, God had mourned for the fate of His people, and that joy
had hecome a stranger in the celestial mansions. Hence they constantly
reckoned all along on the Divine assistance. The Maccabees had in
former times, with a mere handful of men, defied the Syrian hosts, and
why should not similar success be vouchsafed to them under more advan-
tageous circumstances ] And even if it turned out otherwise, surely it
could only happen in judgment, and for a season, that their God had left
His covenant people. His special favourites, for whose sakes even heaven
and earth had been created, and who alone fulfilled the end of their being
by glorifying their Maker. Whatever, then, might be their divinely
appointed fate, to conquer or to die, the Zealots were ready to meet in such
a cause. These views were indeed intimately connected with the whole of
the carnal tendency in their religion. To belong outwardly to the chosen
race, constituted a peison a member of the kingdom of God. The place
and the rites of the temple were identical with acceptable worship ;
outward observances and a mere logical development, became substitutes
for spiritual apprehension of the truth for love and devotedness. Thus

Digitized by VjOOQIC

80 The Destruction of Jerusalem.

BOOKS AND AUTHORS.

DB. BLAIR.

The Lectures on Bhetoric and Belles Lettres, are the most distinguished of
Blair's productions, and, as a compilation from the writings of various cele-
brated authors on the subjects therein treated, do no doubt merit considerable
praise. We are not indeed to expect much of novelty or originality. The ai>
rangement of the different subjects is regular and proper ; the remarks con-
tained are detailed with some measure of accuracy and judgment, but the
sentiments of the distinguished authors, from whom Dr. Blair has so freely
transcribed, are, we think, to be read with greater advantage in their own
words and works, than in the diffuse and sometimes inaccurate style of
Dr. Blair. The opinions of the doctor appear not unfrequently to be weak
and frivolous, and sometimes to violate truth. He appears to be inimical
to the literature of his own country, and has praised th^ French, it is thought,
far above what their works will justify ; to them he unequivocally assigns
the palm of oratory, over every other modem nation, but without any
satisfactory reasons for such a preference. He mentions the pleadings of

Digitized by VjOOQIC

as the form was being more and more cultivated, to the neglect of the
spirit, it appeared also more and more precious, and its final destruction,
by an overtnrow of the Jewish commonwealth, seemed almost impossible.
Nor were the expectations entertained about that time of the sudden
appearance of a Messiah, who, long hid, would suddenly come forth to
deliver his people from the enemies which threatened them, without their
effect on the minds of the people. Though the life and iieath of the
blessed Savi6ur had too lately taken place for the leaders of the people
lightly to risk the safety of the Synagogue, by bringing Messianic views
prominently forward, as they did* at an after period in the war under
Bar-Cochba, in order to inflame the zeal of their followers, such considera-
tions must no doubt have had some influence. At times these hopes
seemed about to be realized. More than once did the balance tremble
in favour of the Jews— the Roman generals were in imminent danger — the
Roman engines destroyed — the Jews successful — the legions panic struck
or dispirited. Yet the sceptre passed finally and irrevocably from Judah,
by the same hand which had first placed it there. Calculating merely the
probabilities of the case, we would say that the war was begun at a most
favourable time; and that notwithstanding the various mistakes and
disadvantages of the Jews, had there not been treason in the Jewish camp,
or had there not been factions and bloody revenge amongst themselves,
or had their eastern allies made a diversion in their favour, they woula
have obtained the object of their desires, or at least have had a greater
measure of success in their defence. But true it is that * the history of the

world is the judgment of the world.'

^ About the same time that the Jewish war terminated, Rome attained
the climax of her grandeur. Hostile movements had taken place in other
provinces, hut these had now been suppressed, and Vespasian opened once
again the Temple of Peace. But this prosperity was of short duration.
We do not mean to connect the destruction of Jerusalem and the decline
of Rome's Empire as cause and effect ; but it is certain that the former
immediately preceded the latter event. The insurrections in the northern i

parts of the empire were only quelled for a time, the fire still smouldered
under the ashes—it speedily burst forth anew, and destroyed that mighty
engine with which the Lord had, in fulfilment of prophecy, punished his
people. So it has ever been : the rod of his vengeance, after having served
its purpose, has always been speedily broken in pieces." i

Books and Authors, 81

Patrie, Cochin, and D'Agnisseau, which no donbt have their merit ; but if
he had taken the trouble to examine the historical collections of England,
during the reign of Charles I., he would there have found preserved the
speeches of many eminent statesmen, which for animation, energy, argu-
ment, and masculine eloquence, far surpass the diffuse and declamatory
orations of the French orators. Upon the eloquence of the Pulpit, Dr.
£lair is perhaps too long and to general readers somewhat tedious. The
space allotted to this subject occasioned the neglect of other matters of
very great importance : here, also, he talks of Bossuet, Masillon, Bour-
daloue, and Flechier, as having attained to a higher species of eloquence
than any of the pulpit orators of our own country. He quotes a specimen
of the incomparable excellence of Masillon, which in substance has been
excelled by many an English divine, and in even style has been equalled by
some. In the matter of discourse, Masillon was certainly inferior to
Barrow, and in polished eloquence and power to Bobert Hall. The French
preachers are pleasing, pretty, and agreeable ; the English, powerful and
persuasive. On the comparative merits of the Ancients and Moderns, he
has tamely followed the opinions of Boileau, Madame Dacier, Perrautt,
La Motte, Sir W. Temple, &c., and it may even be questioned if he has
made the best use of their sentiments.

Upon historical writing the doctor is rather superficial, than deep; to say,
that '*Livy is by no means distinguished for profoundness and penetration,"
is the very reverse of truth ;— witness the speeches of Livy, which display
great sagacity and uncommon penetration. Of Plutarch, he says, ** his matter
is better than his manner." Now the manner of Plutarch has always been
considered as his greatest excellence, and though his matter is good, yet
without the animating touch of his masterly hand it would have appeared
comparatively weak and trifling. Doctor Blair is also equally defective in
characterising modern historians ; Voltaire, he affectedly calls a great his-
torian, when it is well known that in this part of literature, Voltaire has made
the worst figure. His histories are epigrammatic and affected, patient inves-
tigation and diligent instruction, are everywhere sacrificed to flippancy, wit
and satire. He is inattentive to facts, and not free from absurdities, both
as to the manners and the customs of the middle ages. Dr. Blair's know-
ledge of the middle ages also is very slender. Of Buchanan he says,
" that the feudal system seems never to have entered into his thoughts."
The doctor ought to have known that Buchanan lived at a period when
the feudal system was in full force all over Scotland, and many passages
of his history have fully displayed the genius of that system ; the coldness
of his praise to this very great genius is remarkable, and not to be forgotten.
He has also condemned the earlier English historians as mere relators of facts,
and represented the British character in this mode of writing as being indebted
itnmeasurably to Hume, Eobertson, and Gibbon. Much is due to those great
names, but had the doctor neverheardof the History of Henry VII. by Bacon ;
of Henry VIII. by Lord Herbert; or the History of the World, by Sir
Walter Kaleigh ? These are works, which for penetration, elegance, and
dignity, will ever rank high in the literature of this country. Of the great
merits of Clarendon, of Lyttleton and Dr. Middleton, he is silent; his
unqualified praise of Hume, Robertson, and Gibbon, claims not much
regard. Upon philosophic writing, dialogue, epistolary writing, and ficti-
tious history, he is equally careless and unsatisfactory. He is greatly
inferior to Doctor Campbell.

With respect to the Origin and Progress of Poetry, the doctor has exerted
all his powers, and here he has delivered much agreeable knowledge and in-
struction; his observations on pastoral, lyric, didactic, and descriptive poetry,
are extremely good. On the poetry of the Hebrews he has amply detailed
the opinions of the ingenious Dr. Louth. Upon epic and dramatic poetry, he

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

82 Books and Authors.

has also bestowed considerable care, and his remarks on these subjects are
judicious and appropriate ; the common rules of criticism, applicable to
the different kinds of poetry and the characters of some of the most eminent
poets are developed with fidelity, and exactaiess ; yet, even here, he does not
soar much above mediocrity. The curious enquirer into the nice discrimina-
tion of passions and manners, and the accurate delineations of human life, will
meet with little to arrest his attention, or to satisfy his judgment. To the
immortal genius of Milton, Dr. Blair, afraid of the frown of Johnson,
seems unwilling to bestow the just meed of praise. Dr. Blair has intro-
duced the names of several modems, of distinguished eminence, apparently
with the sole purpose of censuring them, — men, in attainments ana genius
infinitely superior to Dr. Blair, and who, had they been alive, such censure
would never have been expressed. The doctor's style of writing, is
wanting both in conciseness and accuracy.

JEAK JACQtTES KOUSSEAU.

Jean Jacques Bousseau may be justly considered as an ingenious,
eccentric, agreeable, but sometimes most dangerous writer. Endowed by
nature with great sensibility of temper, and ardour of imagination, his
mind was peculiarly adapted to the conception of the tenderest sentiments ;
and he Invariably conveys with energv what he felt with enthusiasm.
Accustomed in the search of moral truth, to explore the recesses of the
heart more frequently than those of the understanding, he seems some-
times to have confounded the suggestions of passion with the dictates of
reason ; and to have mistaken at one time the decision of the will, and at
another a phantom of the imagination, for the light of philosophy. Amidst
all his errors, however, he pursues his investigations with something of
consistency. In the knowledge of human nature he is sagacious and
penetrating ; and even while we disapprove of his peculiar opinions,
we admire the ingenuity that suggested them.

Born in a republic, with a som of exquisite sensibility, and leading a
life of youthful indolence, he indulged in these delicious hours, the irre-
sistible propensities of an elevated imagination in all its enthusiasm. He
did not apply himself at first to scientific works, but attached himself to
the productions of the imagination. And to what productions ? To the
romances of Scudery and the Essays of the moral Plutarch. It was the
delight of his father to listen to the young Jean Jacques as he read. He
was one of those virtuous citizens of Geneva who felt a pride in the literary
acquisitions of their children. What a stimulus to the genius of our philo-
sopher, whose soul turned away from the puerile amusements of his age.
He read of heroes, and of sages, and he became whatever he read. It was
now that the fire of his peculiar genius was kindled in his heart, and it dis-
appeared only with the dissolution of his frame. Ignorant of the life of the
moderns, and incapable of little pursuits, he precipitated into the world.
There he was hourly a martyr to inclinations, which he could never gi'atify.
He felt another inconvenience from his natural timidity which he could
never vanquish. Before he was known as a literary man, it concealed his
talents; and afterwards it rendered conversation always unfavourable to
him. Such was the effect of his romantic seclusion from the world, that
he could never address even a child with confidence.

At Paris, he considered his literary abilities onlv as being advantageous
to his daily occupations as a copyist of music. His taste for solitude, for
meditation, and for composition, began now to be animated with the activity
of genius. He appeared a misanthrope in the eyes of the gay Parisians.
He was gloomy from misfortune. He warred with the manners and cha-
racters of the age. It is to this circumstance we may trace all those
persecutions which some have imagined to be the mere phantoms of his

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Books and Authors, 83

hnagination. Bonsgeau was not a man to be admired by bis brother wits.
They regarded him as an object of pity; but more frequently they beheld
in him a dangerous rival, and dreaded him as an inflexible censor. Bousseau
tells us, and we are certain of its truth, that he was resolved not to make the
•ublimest art the most contemptible trade. With all his foibles, there was
somewhat of diBinterestedness in his character. He refused even a certain
salary from the Journal des Savans^ and which was offered by a minister of
state, for a literary occupation, which only required him to make two extracts
a month, merely because he would not constrain himself to write, but when he
felt a certain impulse, without which he said, all his writings were cold and
feeble. When he was cash-keeper to a rich financier, ana entrusted with
30,000 livres at a time, and in a fair way himself of becoming rich, he could
not suffer the constraint, but resolved to give up this valuable place, sold his
watch, and lived on tbe daily pittance of a copier of music. Would such
a man join the intrigues of a Grimm, a Diderot, and a Voltaire ?

At the Baron Holbach's there was frequently held a levee of men of
letters. Bousseau found himself more than once ridiculed by the party.
The Baron had a humorous vein which he repeatedly indulged. It was
from this party the persecutions of Bousseau probably arose : he distin-
guishes his enemies by the name of Holbachians. It was but natural that
the Holbachian Assembly should be his enemies ; the elevation of Rousseau
scorned the artifices of their intrigues, and the baseness of their flatteries.
He quitted them for ever ! His persecutions could not be fancifuL At
Metiers his life was frequently endangered ; the councils of Geneva under
the influence of the French Government burnt his books ; and at length
he was chased out of France, and placed in the hands of Hume, who was
certainly strongly connected with the persecutors of our unhappy and
eloquent philosopher.

His '^ Discourses on the Causes of Inequality among Mankind, and on the
Origin of Social Compacts," a work full of almost unintelligible maxims
and wild ideas, was written with a view to prove that mankind were equal :
that they were born to live apart from each other ; and that they have per-
verted the order of nature in forming societies. He bestows the highest
praise on the scale of nature, and depreciates the idea of every social com-
pact. His ideas about politics were almost as eccentric as his paradoxes
about religion. Some reckon his '* Social Compact," what Voltaire calls the
*' Unsocial Compact," the greatest effort of his genius. Others find a pile
of contradictory errors, and cynical passages, obscure, ill-arranged, and
by no means worthy of his shining pen. — JEnci/, Brit

In writing Eloisa he has given to the world a moral work in the form of
a novel. He has there delineated a fine young woman guilty through
Tveakness, married against her inclinations, yet rising superior to her
passion, encouraged to repentance, and regaining the narrow path of virtue.
It has been objected to this singular work, most justly, that it gives a
licence to crimes, and may do more injury to innocent persons, than good
to such as are not. Bousseau's unlucky talent of rendering everything
problematical, appears very conspicuous, as his arguments in favour of and
against duelling, which afford at once an apology for suicide, and a just con-
demnation of it ; in his facility in palliating the crime of adultery, and his
very strong reasons to make it abhorred ; on the one hand in declamation
against social happiness ; on the other, in transports in favour of humanity :
here in violent rhapsodies againet philosophers, there by a rage for adopting
their opinions: the existence of God attacked by sophistry, and atheists
confuted by the most irrefragable arguments : the Christian religion com-
bated by the most specious objections, and celebrated in all the most sub-
lime eulogies.

Though JEmilius cannot be regarded as a complete system of education,

Digitized by VjOOQlC

84 Books and Authors.

for it has no regular plan, and wants correctness, order, and metibod, yet 16
contains much valuable desultory knowledge, eloquence, and persuasive
reasoning. The great error of Bousseau was that of genius, attempting to
describe a favourite system ; and whilst its airy fabric was every moment
in danger of destruction, vet everything, worlds as well as minds, must be
moulded and directed by his glowing and creative fancy.

^ Emilius is a moral romance treating chiefly of Education. Rousseau
wished to follow nature in everything ; and though his system in several
places differs from received ideas, it deserves in many respects to be pat
m practice, and with some necessary modifications it has been so. His
precepts are expressed with the force and dignity of a mind full of the
leading truths of morality. If he was not virtuous, whatever was his pur-
pose, &w persons have made it appear to more advantage. Everything
which he says against luxury, shows the vices and concealed opinions of his
age, and is worthy at once of Plato and of Tacitus. His style is pecu-
liar to himself. He sometimes however appears by a kind of affected rudeness
and asperity to ape the mode of Montaigne, of whom he is a great admirer,
and whose sentiments and expressions he often clothes in a new dress.
What is most to be lamented is, that in wishing to educate a young man
as a Christian, he has filled his third volume with objections against Chris-
tianity. He has, it must be confessed, given a ver^ sublime eulogium on
the Gospel, and an affecting portrait of its Divine Author ; biit the
miracles, and the prophecies, which seem to establish his mission, he attacks
without the least reserve. Admitting only natural religion, he weighs every
thing in the balance of reason ; and this reason being false, leads him
into dilemmas very unfavourable to his own repose and happiness."—
Ency, Brit

But the Confessions is a most singular and extraordinary work. It has
been designated '* the record of his shame." Senebier says, '' His < Con-
fessions' appear to me to be a very dangerous book, and paint Bousseau in
such colours as we would never have ventured to apply to him. The ex-
cellent analysis which we meet with of some sentiments, and the delicate
anatomy which he makes of some actions, are not sufficient to counter-
balance the detestable matter which is found in them." " His * Confessions'
ought not to have been published at all ; for in them he has injured the
public manners, both by the baseness of the vices he disclosed, and by the
manner in which he united them with apparent virtues." — £ncy, Brit

Bousseau has there given us a faithful picture of himself, and solemnly
appeals to the Divine Being for the truth of his assertions. He has deve-
loped without reserve all the disguises which surround the human heart ;
his adventures from childhood to old age, his crimes and his follies, his
regret and his repentance, are alike exhibited ; but his vanity and pride,
his prejudices and melancholy, seem perpetually to have embittered his
enjoyments, and to have cast a gloom over his very existence. He has shovrn
himself in various situations and employments : at times he was a traveller,
an engraver, a footman, a fiddler, a debauchee, a thief, a religious convert,
a philosopher, and an author. The circumstance of his lite which seems
most to have engaged his attention, was his amoura. His style of writing
is animated, lively, pathetic, and interesting ; his heart full of tenderness
and passion, gave a vivid colouring to his narratives. It is certain that if
Bousseau has given a faithfnl delineation of some persons, he has viewed
others through a cloud, which formed in his mind perpetual suspicions.
Perhaps he imagined he thought justly and spoke truly, but the simplest thing
in nature, says M. Sarvant, if distilled through his violent and suspicious
head, might become poison. Bousseau, in what he says of himself, makes
such acknowledgments as certainly prove that there were few worse men than
he, at least if we may j udge him from the first six books of his Memoirs^ where

Digitized by VjQOQ IC

Books and Authors. 85

nothing appears but his vices. They ought not perhaps to be separated
from the six last books, where he speaks of some better qualities intended to
make reparation for them : or rather the work ought not to have been pub-
lished at all. " The Reveries of a Solitary Wanderer" is a journal of tho
latter part of his life. In this he confesses that he liked better to send his
children into hospitals destined for orphans, than to take upon himself the
charge of their maintenance and education : and endeavours to palliate tliis
error, which nothing can exculpate. — Ency, Brit.

In his Reveries he appears to think that all the world had entered into a
league to destroy him. Every little occurrence that came under his inspec-
tion, agitated and destroyed his ease. He was not naturally very suspicious,
bat when the foUy of perpetually railing at the injustice and ingratitude of
the world had taken hold of his mind, he became the most irritable, sus-
picious, and wretched of human beings : his heart, feelingly alive to the
slightest external impression, was not proof against the least injuiy. He
was timid and reserved, the natural consequence of a life of solitude. He
was more suited to the simple periods of society, than to those of a refined age.
His sensuous soul dwelt on nothing but love and romance.

The inducements which determined him to write his ** Confessions," were
several crimes which he had committed, and, as he says, were insupportable
loads on his conscience. The principal of these were, 1. Falsely accusing
Marion, the cook, of giving him a rose-coloured silver ribband, which he
had stolen from one of the chambermaids, and was found upon him. He
hopes '< that this crime has been expiated by his subsequent misfortunes,
and by forty years of rectitude and honour in the most difficult situations."
Another of his grand confessions, was accompanying his friend Le Maitre,
organist of the Cathedral at Annecy, in a flight as far as Lyons, who being
subject to fits was attacked by one of these in the street, and in this dis-
tressed situation he was deserted by his faithless friend, who turned the
comer of the street, and left him to his fate. His connection with Madame
de Warrens was singularly unfortunate as well as vicious. This connection
embittered his delights with sadness and sorrow.

He finishes this very remarkable performance, which required all his vir-
tue and enthusiasm to complete, while anatomising the living heart, in
these words : — " Such have been the errors and faults of my youth ; I have
related the history of them with a fidelity which my heart approves ; if my
riper years were dignified with some virtues I should have related them
with the same frankness. It was my intention to have done this ; but I
most forgo that pleasing task and stop here. Time, which renders justice
to the characters of most men, may withdraw the veil ; and should my
memory reach posterity, they may one day discover what I had to say —
they will then understand why I am now^silent." Again, **I have written
the truth ; if any person has heard of thinffs contrary to those I have just
stated, were they a thousand times proved, he has heard calumny and false-
hood ; and if he i*efuses thoroughly to examine and compare them with me
whilst I am alive, he is not a friend to either justice or truth. For my
part, I openly and without the least fear, declare, that whoever, even with-
out having read my works, shall have examined with his own eyes, my
disposition, character, manners, inclinations, pleasures, and habits, and pro-
nounce me a dishonest man, is himself one who deserves a gibbet."

Sach, to the best of our knowledge, was the character, and such the
works of Jean Jacques Rousseau, whom infidels boast of as the most eloquent
—if not the most original and profound — of all the writers on the side of
scepticism. His moral character, rightly estimated, should do something to-
wards supplying an antidote to the principles so eloquently inculcated in
his works. The man, in this instance, might be played ofi* against the
outKor, with marvellous efiect.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

86

BIOGRAPHY.
MR. W. D. HARRISON, OF ECKINGTON.

An affectionate regard for the memory of departed friends, and the
desire to preserve and perpetuate the remembrance of their name and
actions, appears to be natural to the human heart. Hence biography, or
life-writing, is one of the most ancient forms of literary composition, and
when the subject is well chosen, and truthfully delineated, it presents one
of the most pleasing and instructive studies. That which the pencil of the
artist, or the chisel of the sculptor, does for the outward and mortal, bio-
graphy is intended to do for the inward and spiritual man. The former
preserves to us the bodily form and features, the latter is designed to pre-
serve to us the mental and moral characteristics of the man.

And it is not necessary that the subject should have been either a hero,
or a philosopher, in order that we may derive pleasure and advantage from
the record of his life and fortunes. Many whose sphere of action has
been confined within very narrow bounds — whose names have hardly been
known beyond the circle of their own families, and whose virtues have
never attracted the observations of. the great world, are yet worthy to be
** had in everlasting remembrance."

It is not always those who fill the largest space in the public eye, or who
make the greatest figure in the world, that are the most desei'ving; but
often the quiet and unobtrusive, the humble and lowly, present the brightr
est examples of real worth, and are most deserving of our admiration.
" Modest glow-worms, that shine only when they thmk the gazing world
is asleep, and fancy themselves invisible to all eyes but those of love.*'

Such a man was the subject of the following memoir. He was princi-
pally distinguished for the cultivation of those domestic affections, and
private and social virtues, which tend to make home happy, and which
render those who possess them, a real blessing to their friends and neigh-
bours, and, —

" When the pomp

Of earthly glory fades, then one good deed.

Unseen, unheard, unnoted by mankind.

Lives in the eternal register of heaven.*'

William D. Harrison was bom on the 4th of September, 1786, at
Sheffield. Of his childhood and youth little is known, that could at all
interest the readers of this sketch. It was probably not distinguished in
any important respects from the childhood and youth of other human
beings, born in the same sphere of life, and to the same fortunes,— the
season of innocent joy and light-heartedness, and teeming —
" With golden visions and romantic dreams.*'

His pai'ents were in comfortable temporal circumstances, and appear to
have been truly pious, and devoted to the service of God. Hence he
enjoyed the unspeakable advantages of a sound religious education, en-
forced by good examples, and an honest conversation. He was early taught
to read and love the Bible, trained to habits of prayer, and a regular
attendance upon the worship of Almighty God. To his mother he was
especially indebted for those lessons of wisdom and virtue, which, under
the blessing of God, resulted in his early conversion, and which exercised
a powei*ful influence over his whole subsequent life and conduct, and hence
of his mother he always spoke with much reverence and affection, as
having, by her instructions, and holy life, and conversation, laid the foun-
dation of piety in his mind and heart. Thus adding another to the multi-
plied examples of good resulting from a godly mother*8 influence and
prayers, and another encouragement to such mothers to " sow in hope."

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Biography of Mr. W. D. Harrison^ of Eckington. 87

"Cast thy bread upon the waters : for thou shalt find it after many days."
"In the morning sow thy seed."

In consequence of this early religious training, our departed friend was
preserved from many of those evils and dangers to which youth is exposed,
and though naturally gay and fond of amusement, he remained strictly
moral and sober in his habits ; and in the year 1804, when he was about
eighteen years of age, he was led seriously to consecrate himself to the
Ber?ice of Grod ; " Being justified freely by his grace, through the redemp-
tion that is in Christ Jesus." Of the circums^nces of his conversion we
have no record, but of its reality and genuineness, his subsequent life
affords abundant and satisfactory evidences, and this is undoubtedly one of
the best proofs of a renewed heart. " hy their fruits ye shall know them.'.'
And tested by this rule, our departed brother, though compassed about
with infirmities, gave undeniable proofs that he had '* passed from death
unto life." This will be fully evinced as we proceed. Having been made
a partaker of the grace of God, he connected himself with the Wesleyau
Methodist Society, and continued in communion with that body, until \he
year 1826, when owing to circumstances which it would be uninteresting
here to recapitulate, further than to remark, that they involved no breach of
Christian morality on his part, he withdrew from the Society, and from that
time to the year 1834, he was not strictly speaking, a member of any church,
there was in fact no church in the village with which he could without
violating his conscience unite. It must not therefore be inferred that
during those eight years he departed from God, on the contrary, he was
perhaps at no period of his life more ^ diligent to make his calling and his
election sure." Attending regularly the public means of grace, devoting
much of his time and influence to the instruction of the young in the
Sabbath-school, and maintaining constant communion with God in the
closet, in the family, and in his Word. But objecting to certain disciplinary
arrangements of the Wesleyan Connexion, he felt that he could not con-
Bcientiously continue identified with that body, and, as we have said, no
other door was open to him at that time.

In the year 1834 originated the Wesleyan Methodist Association, when
he, with others who held similar views on the subject of Church govern-
ment, heartily united with that body, rejoicing that he had at last
found a quiet resting place, where in conjunction with Methodist doctrines
and forms of worship, he could enjoy the blessing of a liberal polity, and
exercise those rights to which as a member of the Christian brotherhood,
he felt himself to be entitled. And, from the day of his union with the
Association to the day of his death, he continued a warm admirer of its
great principles, and interested himself in everything connected with its
welfare and prosperity. All its friends were his friends, and were sure of
a cordial welcome, and hospitable entertainment in his house. For a short
time the Society worshipped in a small school- room, and suffered much
inconvenience, out in 1 836 a neat and commodious chapel, with an excel-
lent school-room below it, was erected for their accommodation. Mr.
Harrison, zealously promoted the building of this place of worship, and
freely and liberally contributed of his substance towards the cost of its
erection, and laboured diligently to promote the prosperity of the Society.
He felt an especial regard for the young, and hence the Sabbath-school
was the sphere of his most active and successful labours.

This was a department of Christian labour on which he appears to have
entered soon after his conversion to God, for which he possessed great
qualifications, and in which he continued to toil with exemplary patience
and diligence to the close of his life. Only those who have witnessed it,
can fully understand the depth and intensity of his love for the Sunday-
school. In everything calculated to promote its efficiency, he engaged

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

88 Biography of Mr, IV. D. Harrison^ of Eckingfon.

with all his^ heart. The deep interest which he felt in these institntions,
will be best shown by an extract or two from writings which he has left
behind. In 1821, a society was formed in connexion with the school, for
supplying the scholars, on leaving the institution, with a copy of the Holy
Scriptures, — and how deeply he felt the importance of this measure, the
following extract from a speech which he delivered at the meeting which
was held to inaugurate the society, will evince. He said, — ** In rising to
propose the establishment of a fund for the purpose stated, I lament that
it has not fallen into abler hands. But since it is my lot to take it up, I
crave your indulgence while I feebly attempt to prove the necessity for the
establishment of such a fund, which has for its object, nothing less than to
furnish to each youth, on leaving the school, a gift of the Word of Life, —
a gift with which all the treasures of the universe, when compared, are as
nothing — a gift^ the greatest we can bestow, or a child receive at our hands.
Shall we, my dear brethren and sisters, assemble these dear children
together Sabbath after Sabbath, to teach them to read and write, and
what is of far greater importance, to teach them the way of salvation, and
on their leaving the school, abandon them to the world, the flesh, and the
devil, without a guide to direct their inexperienced feet ? God forbid !
And I appeal to you, whether anything is so well calculated to preserve
them from evil, as furnishing them with the unerring Word of God,
accompanied with our fervent prayers for the divine blessing to attend it."

On the first Anniversary of this society, he expressed himself as
follows. — "We are now assembled to hold the first anniversary of onr
little Bible Society, and I must say, it is the proudest day for Eckington,
in my opinion, that it has ever known. I feel thankful to God that this
society has been set on foot in my day, that I may be a participator in the
blessings that will most assuredly accrue from a steady perseverance in
this best of causes, both in time and throughout eternity. We have every
reason to believe that this small beginning shall be like the 'grain of
mustard seed, which a man took and sowed in his field, which indeed is the
least of all seeds, but when it is grown, becometh a tree, so that the birds
of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof.*"

In reading the above extracts, it should be borne in mind that thirty-four
years ago Bibles were neither so abundant nor so cheap as in 1855. And
therefore the gift of the ** precious Book " was to a poor boy or girl, on
leaving the Sabbath-school, no unimportant or trifling boon. And this fact
also may serve to show that the estimate which Mr. Harrison formed of
the " little Bible Society," was not exaggerated. And the extracts we have
given demonstrate how highly he valued the Word of the Lord, and how
intensely he loved the lambs of Christ's flock.

The following speculation, while it serves to show how enthusiastic and
sanguine our departed friend was in the cause of Sabbath-schools, and
what high hopes he indulged, as to the good which they were likely to
eflPect, may also be regarded as a literary curiosity. It occurs in a speech
delivered on the occasion of the third anniversary of the society, in 1824.
** There are now," he says, " upwards of 150 children under tuition in our
Sunday-school, and supposing this world yet to continue for 1177 years,
which is nearly the time calculated by some of our most eminent divines,
at the end of which period the millenium is to commence. I say, suppose
this to be correct. There are at present 150 children in our school who
are taught every Sabbath to love and serve God : now suppose upon an
average they remain seven years each in the school, and a regular succes-
sion to be kept up, there will be admitted before the expiration of the 1177
years, upwards of 10,090* children admitted into this blessed institution,
who will be taught to fear the Lord."

* Twenty-five thonsand^^ould have been nearer the mark.— Editor.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr* W. D. Hiarrisonj of Eckington, 89

'^ Again, sapposing that there are only five* sixths of that number who
shall hare a claim to the benefits of this fund, there will be 8409 young
immortals, who will have had put into their hands that Book widch is able
to make them and theirs blessed for ever. ■ Here then is a theme for
exultation, and on which my soul delights to dwell. O, my dear brethren
and sisters, whatever others do, let us be found laboaring in the vineyard
of our God, pruning, and trimming, and training, by every means which
Divine Providence has put within our power, those young plants. And
'what tongue can describe the glory which will await us in the kiugdnm of
our Father, for we are told, *They that turn many to righteousness, shall
shine as the stars for ever and ever.' "

At a later period in the history of this excellent society, he said, " You
have heard from the report that has been read, the present state of our
little Bible Society. I confess that when I look at its commencement, and
follow it through the several years it has been established, I may say it
has greatly exceeded my expectations. I rejoice when I consider the many
friends whom God has raised up to support it ; their zt al has been truly
commendable, for hitherto we can justly say it has lacked nothing. How
many examples we have had since the formation of this society, to convince
us of the mutability of all earthly things. Who amongst us are marked as
speedy victims of death God only knows, it may be he who is now address-
ing you, or it may be some of my dear friends ; let us be careful to be found
doing the will of our heavenly Father, for blessed will that servant be who
VI hen his Lord cometh, shall be found so doing ; upon such our ever-
adorable Redeemer shall pronounce the sentence, * Come, ye blessed of my
Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the
world,' For my own part, I would sincerely pray, * Let thy law, Almighty
Parent, be the rule, and thy glory the constant end of all I do.'

* My time, advice, and wealth, be freely given, *

To bless them here, and lead to bliss in heaven.* '* .

These extracts exhibit the man in some of his best and happiest mo-
ments, and convey a much better idea of his Christian character than any
mere description could do. And his acts of love and zeal were not
momentary or occasional impulse, expending their force in fine speeches at
anniversary meetings, but like steady, active fiame, which continued to
bum brightly to the end.

For many years he prepared the report for the annual meetings of the
school, and one or two extracts from some of these reports will serve to
show that he was not weary in well doing. Thus, in 1845, he says, " The
return of an anniversary meeting of this kind, is calculated to excite a feel-
ing of solemnity and serious consideration in the minds of all. Our time
is short, and we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, to
give an account of the deeds done in the body. This ought to lead all the
teachers of this school, and I hope will, to make the inquiry— with what,
degree of diligence and with what success have we been labouring ] We
have great cause to be humbled before God. Yet our heavenly Father
gives us some encouragement to persevere, for during the year we have
Had two more teachers savingly converted to God, wlio have become
members of our church, and are now walking in the comforts of the Holy
Ghost."

In 1849, he writes, " Not a single teacher or scholar has been cut off by^
death during this year. It is with much pleasure we state that a closer
connection between the school and the church has been established ; and
during the year it has pleased God, in answer to prayer, to save seven more
teachers, making a total of fifty, since the commencement of the school in
1834. Sereral of theM have died happy in God. Two of the scholars havci

H

Digitized by VjOOQIC

90 Biography of Mr. W. D. Harrison^ of EcJdngtan.

also been brought to a saving knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus. I
close with the words of the poet —

* Each following minute as it flows^
Increase Thy praise, improve our joys,
Till we are raised to sing Thy name
At the great supper of the Lamb.* "

The last extract I shall give is from the last report which he was per-
mitted to draw up, and which he read on the 26th of December, 1854. j\iter
giving the Statistics of Sunday-school Education, recently published, he
says, " These facts, attesting as they do the wonderful growth and exten-
sion of the Sunday-schools in England, cannot fail to give a thrill of delight
to every pious breast They have sent a sanctifying influence to multitudes
of cottages, workshops, and fields. They have smoothed and blessed thou-
sands of death-beds. They have diffused hymn-books and tracts. They
have prevented Sabbath-breaking to a great extent. And to attain these
blessed results was this Chapel erected. Tes, to fit immortal souls for the
friendship of God, and prepare them for a blissful immortality in the world
to come. This was the sole object we had in view when they were built,
and I pray Gk)d of his infinite mercy that they may still be consecrated by
Him to such purposes, to generations yet unborn." After praising God for
the mercies of the year, he adds, '^ And we intend, if longer spared, still to
employ our feeble talents in doing our utmost for the present and everlasting
welfare of the children committed to our care, and may God make us the
happy instruments of their eternal salvation.'* When he penned these last
words, he little thought that in about a month his labour of love would be
suddenly brought to a close. *^ In the midst of life we are in death." On
the day of the meeting, while seated in his house, and musing probably on
the rapid flight of years, he first repeated aloud, and then wrote on a scn^
of paper, these almost prophetic words —

** Another wave will land me on that blissful shore,
. Where those I loved are gone before."

In addition to his laboui*s in the Sabbath-school, Mr. Harrison sustained
for many years the office of a class-leader, and in the discharge of the
important duties of that office he was always punctual, affectionate, and
faithful, and enjoyed the esteem and confidence of his members. And he
was well qualified both from his knowledge of the word of God, and his
personal experience, to instruct, direct, and comfort others. He was also
very attentive to the sick and infirm, and many a suffering and dying
individual has he pointed to the " Father of mercies and God of aU
comfort," or pourea into their listening ear the "great and precious
promises " of the Gospel. Of not a few of the departed members of the
church, and of the teachers and scholars of the school, he was the affec-
tionate and fiedthful biographer. It is a pleasing thought that those whose
death-bed he endeavoured to smooth — and whose happy and triumphant
end he recorded for the encouragement and edification of others, are now
together inhabiting that happy land —

" Where pain> and sin, and want, and care.
And sighing are no more."

It will not be necessary to dwell on the closing scene of the life which
we have thus briefly sketched. The simple statement, as forwarded to the
writer in a letter inviting him to preach the funeral sermon, embodies all
that need be said, and is deeply affecting and solemnly admonitory. The
writer of that letter says—** He left home on Monday, February the 6th,
got to Elirton Lindsey, in Lincolnshire, that night, got up in good health on
Tuesday morning, and about eight o'clock, while in the street, dropped down

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr. Charles Byme^ of Liverpool, 9i

and died in a moment." All the comment which we shall offer on this
extract is in the words of the Saviour. " Therefore be ye also ready ; for
in such an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh." " Watch ye
therefore, for ye know not when the Master of the house cometh, at even,
or at midnight, or at the cock-crowing, or in the morning. Lest suddenly
he find you sleeping. And what I say unto you, I say unto all, watch.'*

In summing up the character of our deceased friend, I believe that I
shall be best fulfilling his wishes— could he have been consulted on the
subject — ^by avoiding all empty eulogy. If I could have received his dying
inj auction, I believe he would have said, If you speak of me at all, let it
be to the praise of redeeming mercy. By the grace of God I am what
lam."

There were however some traits in his character which merit particular
notice, and which may be presented as worthy of imitation, and

First. He was a man of exemplary industry, and diligence in his calling.
He believed it to be his duty to be "diligent in business," as well as
"fervent in spirit." He was emulous to excel others in the quality of the
articles which ne produced, and to a great extent he was successful, and few
men have in this respect enjoyed a juster fame. In the prosecution of his
basinesB he travelled, mostly on foot, thousands of miles, and by his industry
and attention succeeded in raising himself from comparative obscurity to
honour, and moderate wealth.

Secondly. He was strictly trtie and jtMt in all his dealings : his word
might be relied upon, and there was nothing which so strongly excited his
displeasure as the appearance of duplicity and falsehood in others.

Thirdly. He was remarkably kind and hospitable. His house was open,
and his board spread, for the entertainment of the preachers and others,
and they were always welcomed with a smile.

Fourthly. Mr. Harrison was a regular and punctual man. With
him, "to every thing there was a season)" I have often thought that
if the latter could he carried to an extreme length, that it was so by
our departed firiend. Instead of doing as too many of the members of our
congregations do, viz. entering the house of God after, and sometimes
long after the commencement of the service, he was almost invariably in
his place some minutes before the time, and so prepared to join in all
purts of the worship of Almighty God. I have often thought, and often
said, "How pleasing it would be if all our hearers were in their places like
Brother H., when we enter the pulpit."

I add only. He was an affectionate husband, a kind and indulgent
father, a warm-hearted and steady friend. That he had failings and in-
firmities onlv proves that he was a partaker of our common humanity. I
have no doubt he was a man of God, and entertain a firm hope that we
shall meet again to renew our friendehips. Amen.

Edw. Weight.

ME. CHAHLES BYKNE, OF LIVEEPOOL.

It is often difficult to give, even of a good man, an interesting biographi-
cal account. Frequently such persons leave no memoranda which can
a£ford any aid in preparing a memoir, and surviving relatives know their
history only in a fragmentary and imperfect way. It is only an imperfect
sketch which can be given of our late Brother Byrne.

Charles Byrne was a native of Ireland, having been born at Geashill,
King's County, in the month of March, in the year 1798. Of his early
history we possess no details, but he was a child of wrath, even as others ;
nor does it appear that he was the subject of any serious concern about

H 2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

92 Biography of Mr, Charles Byme^ of Liverpool.

his salvation until abont the age of twenty-four or twenty-five years. At
that period he listened for the first time to the Gospel preached by a
Methodist, hearing a Mr. Gundy, a Local preacher, preach from ** Fear not
little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasare to give you the kingdom."
He asked himself " Who are they who compose this little flock ? Am I
one 1 " The word was made a blessing to his soul— the savour of life unto life.

He in consequence connected himself yrith the Methodist Society, and
endeavoured to walk worthy of his high calling. About two years after
he became a member he removed to Liverpool, being aflectiooately com-
mended by the preacher of the circuit to which he belonged to the kind
care and regard of the Liverpool friends.

In Liverpool, he diligently endeavoured not only to provide honest
things in the sight of all men, but also to serve and glorify God. His zeal
and consistency secured the favourable notice of the officers of the Society,
80 that in two or three years he was called to sustain the honourable and
responsible office of a leader. This office he filled until his death, a period
of twenty-six or twenty-seven years, and during many years he had a
numerous and prosperous class.

About the time of his appointment as a leader, Brother Byrne had a
narrow escape from death. A man had gone into a loft over the shop (a
smith's) in which brother Byrne wrought, and by accident threw down a
heavy piece of iron on his head, bringing him to the ground with fearful
violence. The injury he received was severe, his recovery doubtful, but
by Divine mercy, though bearing the mark of the fracture to the day of
his death, he happily recovered. He always (and very naturally) regai-ded
this escape from death as most extraordinary.

At the time of the separation of the Wesleyan Association from the
Wesleyan Society, Brother Byrne manifested his attachment to liberal
principles of Church government, by identifying himself with the Associa-
tion, of which he remained a faithful member and officer to the end of his
life. Of this he gave proof. About seven years since he went to reside at
Tranmere, on the western side of the Mersey ; there he made himself very
useful in a small society belonging to the Liverpool Circuit, leading a class,
&c. During his residence at Tranmere, the preaching-room occupied by
the Association was unjustly and surreptitiously taken away by a person
holding the office of a Local preacher, the greater part of the Society and
congregation continuing to worship there. Brother Byrne however adhered
faithfully to the Association.

Shortly after Brother Eyrne returned to reside in Liverpool. Here his at-
tachment to the body was further tried, when in 1852, the Rev. J. Carveth,
disregarding his obligations to the Connexion, in whose ministry he was
engaged, joined with some others, in an attempt to alienate the Liverpool
Circuit from the Wesleyan Association, he was again found faithful, and
it may be added, continued stedfastly attached to the end of his life..

For some years before his death, Brother Byrne suflfered much from
ill-health, and was incapable of tliose labours in which he had previously
exerted himself. This, together with pain and weakness, induced frequent
depression of spirit, and made his views both of himself and the church
often gloomy and discouraging. He however continued to urge the impor-
tance of personal religion upon those to whom he wrote or spoke. Of this
one evidence may be given, in an extract from a letter written to a sister
on the death of a near relative :

" My dear sister, — The long spared family is broken into at last, and now
there is one missing, there will soon be another, and I am almost persuaded
it will be me. I am suffering very much at present. I have not known a
day's good health for many months. To work I cannot, and to walk
aJmost kills me ; but there is one great source of consolation, the fear of

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr, Samuel Edwards^ of Chirk. 93

death has long since been taken away, and I have a sweet hope of entering
into the rest that remains for the children of God."

During his last illness, the calmness and confidence which he manifested
were exceedingly comforting to his friends. There was a striking contrast
between the doubting and discouraged tone in which he had frequently
spoken during the preceding year or two, and the cheerful courage of his
death-bed. The clouds which had sometimes hung so heavily in the skies
seemed all dissipated, and he was peacefully confident, and blessedly hope-
ful. It was always gratifying to visit him.

His eldest daughter, in giving some account of the closing scene of his
life, speaking of the night before his death, says, " About two o'clock it
appeared that death was fast approaching, and the family were called into
his room. He said * I am going to heaven ! to my Father's house ! Oii ! that
we may all meet there ! a whole family in heaven ! Oh ! how it pains me
to think of one of my family being wanting in the great day.' Then
clasping his hands, he said * God forbid that one of my dear family should
be lost ! ' lie entreated each one, as he had often done on other occasions,
to seek the salvation of our souls, and meet him in heaven. To me he
said, while holding my hand in his, * I am not afraid to die, the struggle
will soon be over. It is but passing away! Glory ! Glory be to God I
' I shall pass the watery flood,
Hanging on the arm of God.' "

Mother said to him, ' Do you feel that Jesus is precious to you.' He said
* Yes ! He is here ! * Then fixing his eyes steadfastly on her, he said * Don't
you see Him ! ' She said, * No.* * Oh,' said he, * He is close beside you.
My precious Saviour.'

* About an hour before he died, he said that he had no desire to recover
but to glorify God. He said little afterwards. At twenty minutes to one
o'clock, on Saturday, February 17th, 1865, without a struggle or a groan,
his spirit took its flight Brother Byrne was fifty- six years of age when
he died. T. A. B,

MR SAMUEL EDWARDS, OF CHIRK.

Mr. Samuel Edwards was born near Chirk, Denbighshire, in the year
1785. His religious training was such as might be expected from the cir-
cumstances in which he w^as placed. His parents were decent, moral
persons, but, like their neighbours, strangers to evangelical truth. He
worshipped regularly at the parish church until his twenty-fifth year. He
had been from an early age the subject of serious impressions. He often
heard what was calculated to excite his fear, but never any words of com-
fort. His sins were frequently presented to his viewj but there was no
exhibition of the Saviour. He continued in the spirit of bondage till the
year 1810, when several Methodist preachers visited Chirk, amongst whom
were John Elias, Edward Amwell, and Owen Davies. These men of Gad
took their stand in the open air, and preached to the half-enlightened
villagers " the unsearchable riches of Christ.'* Brother Edwards was pre-
pared for such a ministry. He heard with delight the doctrines of the
cross ; he accepted the grace so freely offered — " being justified by faith, he
had peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ." I have often heard
him allude with pleasure to those happy days. As the enemies of vital piety
were numerous at that time in the village, he had much opposition to con-
tend with, but he was " bold to take up, and firm to sustain, the consecrated
cross."
My acquaintance with him commenced in the year 1832 j he was then in

Digitized by VjOOQlC

94 TVhat this Year may bring,

the prime of life, and very zealons in his Master's canse. He at his own
expense opened a place for preaching near the Tillage. There was always
a hearty welcome for the preachers at his house. Being often appointed at
Chirk, I had frequent intercourse with him, and had therefore many
favourable opportunities of studying his character. He was a man of great
consistency. Many were the efforts employed to draw him away from the
Wesleyan Association, hut none were successful; he stuck firm to the
cause, through good and through evil report. As a man, his talents were
above mediocrity; he was dignified, decided, frank, and generous;
he utterly abhorred everything mean and crouching: his judgment was
discriminative, and his penetration sharp ; he had a rich fund of genuine
humour, which was as far removed from frivolity as it was from morose-
ness. Such a mind was in perfect harmony with his noble frame. Men-
tally and morally, our deceased brother was a great man. As a Christian,
he was sound in the faith, and sincerely devoted to God ; as a class-leader,
he was affectionate and faithful; in prayer he was very powerfnl,--he
appeared to throw his whole heart into every petition ; on such occasions
the windows of heaven were opened, and a copious blessing poured out on
the people.

In April, 1854, 1 removed to Liverpool ; in the month following I visited
the Overton Circuit, accompanied by Brother Cartwright. We left Brother
Edwards in tolerable healtn. A few weeks afterwards he went out to meet
his brother, whom he had not seen for many years ; but had only walked
a few yards from his own gate, when he suddenly expired. He was thus
permitted to enter the heavenly Canaan without contending vnth the swel-
unffs of Jordan.

His death was greatly lamented by a large circle of friends, and espe-
cially so by his relatives, and the members of the church with which he
was connected. At the earnest request of his relatives, 1 preached his
funeral sermon, from Rev. xiv. 13, to a large and deeply affected congrega-
tion. It is pleasing to add, that his youngest son is a Local preacher
amongst us, and his widow continues generously to receive the preachers
at her house.

Liverpool, J. Ktjssell.

WHAT THIS YEAR MAY BRING.

A RECORD FOR THOSE WHO THINK.

Another Year had come.

They knew it at the palace, and the thoughtful ones stept lightly, while
they dwelt on the past which returns not, and the fature wluch holds so fast
its mysteries.

They knew it in the poor man's home, for the voice of the old church
clock had told the tale, and many a heart beat louder as it met the stranger
guest, and wondered what he brought to them and theirs.

Far away in Southern Devonshire, there lived a woman, upon whose thin
features you could read of Death ; whose very voice was an echo from the
tomb, and the sound of whose deep cough crept shuddering to your heart.
The New Year had come, and she, too, knew it well.

She knew still more : there was a writing ever before her eyes, and its
words were burnt into her very soul — the words of the New Year — " Ihring
thee Death r'

Oh, terrible I Death ; what is that P She knows not ; all she knows is,
that she dreads to meet the mighty foe. Ah, well may a wasted life stand
up and say. " Tremble, when Death shall come !"

In days long gone she had heard much talk of prayer ; she had been told
that He who made her. He whom she has till now forgotten, hears and

Digitized by VjOOQlC

What this Year may bring. 95

answers prayer; bat, alas, she cannot praj* ! It is, as slie herself would tell
you, as if, when she longs to pray, something were whispering, " You pray!**
and looking back upon the long jears spent in health and prayerlessness,
she listens to the tempter and is silent.

And the Toice of the New Year sounds, " I bring thee Death !*'

The year was not a week old yet, and in her humble home the death-
appointed one sat gloomily : " I cannot pray," the burden of her lamen-
tation. Over her there bends a friend of earlier days, whose heart bleeds
for poor Mary j yet she knows not how to help. Presently she bethinks her
of a bearer or the little ** whisperers " which come so silently into the house,
and speak so loudly to the heart ; and she asks leave to direct her to the
anxious one. Hesitating, shrinking back, dreading to be addressed as ** a.
great sinner," the poor, miserable woman gives consent ; and her kind Mend
is gone.

Who would not hasten with cold water to the desert- wanderer ? or with
a sure relief to the bodily-diseased ? or with a pardon to the scaffold-treading
malefactor P More than all, who would not hasten to preach Christ, and
him crucified, to the soul asking, ''How shall I flee from the wrath to
come ? "

So it is ; with quick step and an uplifted heart the tract-distributor wends

her way to the home of Mary R . There is no cordial welcome j for

like many of her class, poor Mary shrinks from conversation on religious
subjects with those who have more of this world's wealth than she ; and
she perhaps holds fast the foolish notion, that because a Pharisaic pride is
manifest in some of them, it must be so with all. However, it will not be
long before she learns to give a welcome, bright as any sunbeam, to her
visitor.

The new friend brings a book with her — what book ? One which has
been no euest of Mary's hitherto. Ah, in how many households is this
•* lamp " despised !

They talk a while of ordinary things, until the invalid begins to imder-
stand the sympathy her new fnend feels in her bodily suffermgs, and then
the Word is read : •* For God so loved the world, that he gave his only-
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have
everlasting life." (Johia iii. 16.)

Then foUow other messages from heaven ; and then the ox)ening of the
poor, almost despairing heart, — no longer shrinking from acknowledgment
of guilt ; and the answering sympathy of the listener, who could herseif
recall a time of just such deep anxiety and terrible distress. They kneel ;-^
she whose complaint it is that " Satan will not let her pray," expecting but
to listen, feeling it almost a mockery to bend the knee ; she who had come
there prajdng silently, still asking for direction in the awful, the sublime
work she is, as she trusts, called of God, as an instrument, to do.

At first the burdened heart feels nothing ; but as gradually the speaker,
striving to give expression to the doubts, and fears, and desires, of the sin-
stricken soul, becomes more earnest, an emotion overwhelming masters it,
and it becomes impossible not to join in prayer. Then, in the earnest cry for
Ood-given faith in Him who died to save, a humble yet continued pleading
for full pardon for the sake of the blood shed on Calvary, the soul is melted
utterly.

And from that hour Mary — rich Mary now — dates her acquaintance with
the Saviour ; and though her friend, in her weak faith, almost inclines to
doubt if God has bo soon answered prayer, yet frequent repetition in after
interviews of the same earnest statement forbids her long to hesitate, and
she with joy exclaims, "What hath God wrought!"

On the night of that brief visit there was another New Year's message
read to Mary E , ** I bring thee Peace ! "

Digitized by VjOOQIC

96 Review and Criticism,

Again we stand within that little room, whence, since our Tisit some few
weeks ago, many more prayers have mounted to the skies, — prayers froni
the lips of the pastor, in w hose study Mary's new friend told the story of
her visit ; the prayers of other Christians who have heard from various
sources something of the history ; as well as those of her who was the happy
instrument of leading the tempted one /or the first time to prayer.

And now the clouds grow darker, hut it is only near the ground ; above,
in the region where the spirit dwells, the sun shines more brightly than
ever yet. Prayer becomes more the atmosphere of the soul, a deeper anxi-
ety for the salvation of others manifests itself, " the i^orld recedes, — heaven
Opens." Solemn hour ! .

Gradually the house is taken down, — the body becomes fearfully emaci-
ated,— the large eves lose expression ; and she who has been so privileged
as to visit that sick-room to bring and take away rich blessings, bends over
that lowly bed, and as she presses those thin lips, which nave scarcely
strength to ask, " Will you not kiss me?*' she can almost hear the step of
the last enemy.

It is over ! Th% husband is wifeless, — the clay dwelling tenantles8,-—the
lids are closed over the once speaking eyes, — the lips, which moved in the
moan of illness, or the sweet music of prayer, are pale and still, — the hands
so often busied in her household duties rest as they could never rest before,
^-the grave shall soon receive its dead.

A gam the New Year's friend stands there, but it is beside a corpse. The
morning sun shines brightly, and from many a house of prayer come forth
the worshippers, real and pretended, for it is the day of rest ; while Sabbath
revellers are planning how to waste the evening ; and, midst it all, here
lies a written sermon Which 'twere well for every heart to read, — a sermoa
on The End, Truly the New Year has fulfilled its promise, ** I will bring
thee Death;" yet its voice is heard again, "Not only Death, but Everlasting
Life!"

Man, to whom God gives another Year, what does his gift bring to thee?
Who can tell? Perchance the writing is of madness or of death ; of over-
whelming sorrow or fearful temptation ! What hast thou as an anchor in
the storm ? Think thou not that thy strong, sinewy arm, thy proudly-
r ishing blood, thy vigorous health, can help thee ! Nothing but faith in
Him who died to rescue such as thou, can keep thee safe this year in life or
^eath.

' List the year's message—" Let me bring thee peace with God, and ever-
more it shall be well with thee." — The Appeal,

REVIEW AND CRITICISM.

The Three Crosses of Calvary, By the Rev. Morgan Lloyd.
London r John Snow, Paternoster-row.

The character of this work may be inferred from a sentence or two
in its Preface. The author says, — " In studying the scenes of Cal-
vary an almost exclusive attention is commonly given to the cross on
which Christ died. But there were two other crosses there. These,
though widely different from that on which He suffered, in the senti-
ments which they awaken, are eminently significant and suggestive.''
These words supply the key to the excellent author's design in the
work before us. His plan is singularly clear. He first treats of

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Review and Criticism. 97

Calraiy : tben of the Redeemer's cross, next of the croiss of the Peni"
tent; after that, of the cross of the Unbeliever ; and, finally, of the
union of the Three Crosses. This work, though not much distin-
guished by depth of thought or brilliancy of style, is in a high degree
evangelical, and eminently adapted to the development of pious
feeling.

Grammar at Sight. By Walter King. London : Houlston and
Stoneman, Paternoster-row.

This is a new edition of a Grammar, with a Chart and Key to the
English Language, including rules for the Composition of Verse and
Prose, and some useful Hints on Oratory. It is on an entirely new
and original plan, it presents the whole subject of Grammar much
more palpably to the minds of Youth than, so far as we know, it has
ever^been presented before. The method is catechetical. The Ques-
tions and Answers very fully bring out the elements of Grammar, and
we conceive it impossible for any one to study this excellent work
attentively, without making rapid progress in acquiring a knowledge
of the English Language. Mr. King's work deserves, and, we doubt
notj will have a very wide circulation.

Memoirs of James Hutton, By Daniel Benham. London : Hamil-
ton, Adams, and Co., Paternoster-row.

This work comprises the annals of Mr. Hutton's life, and an account
of his connection with the United Brethren. The materials of which
it is composed have been drawn from a large variety of sources,
among the principal, of which, may be named a Manuscript History,
drawn up by the Rev. John Phtt, the late Keeper of the Archives at
Hermhut — the Correspondence of the Geneva Society for the Fur-
therance of the Gospel — Diaries of the Brethren in London, and an
extensive collection of Diaries and Correspondence in the Archives
of Hermhut.

The subject of these Memoirs was awakened under the ministry of
the Rev. John Wesley, and is afterwards found corresponding and
co-operating with the Wesleys and Mr. Whitfield in that extraordinary
Revival of Religion by which the labours of those eminent men were
signalised. Afterwards he became acquainted with Bohler, and for
some time acted as the Interpreter of his discourses, and gradually
fraternized more and more with the United Brethren, until his sepa-
ration from the Methodists became complete. He was one of those
devoted men who originated " the Society for the Furtherance
of the Gospel." He was a most striking example of the connec-
tion between Business and Religion. He converted his shop, as his
biographer says, into a Pulpit, from which " his customers never re-
tired, when he was present, without some discourse for the good of
their souls." Soon after his separation from " the Wesleys," we find
that he acted as Interpreter to Count Zinzendorf. After many evi-
dences of deep devotion and fervent zeal at home, we find Mr. Hutton
and his wifcj in a few years, labouring in Switzerland — then he returns

Digitized by VjOOQIC

98 The Casket.

home and is off to Germany— by-and-bye he is in Switzerland again,
which he ultimately leaves on account of a misunderstandiDg with
the Board of Direction. He returns home, whereupon he labours to
infuse increased energy into the operations of "the Society for the
Furtherance of the Gospel." He was instrumental in promoting a
Mission to Labrador, and became first Vice-President, and afterwards
President of " the Society for the Furtherance of the Gospel," from
which period his time was devoted principally to the perfecting of the
new organizations for extending Missions Abroad, and for the Diffiision
of the Missionary spirit at Home. After an eminently useful and
somewhat eventful life, this good man died in triumph, in the 80th
year of his pilgrimage. Benevolence and devotion seem to have been
leading traits of his character.

These Memoirs are full of interesting incidents illustrative of the
character and manners of the United Brethren. We recommend this
work to the notice of our readers, as eminently adapted to promote a
spirit of zealous devotedness to the service of the Divine Master.

THE CASKET.

THE MEDALS OF GEOLOGY.

The historian may have pnrsued the line of march of triumphant oon*
qiierors, whose armies trampled down the most mighty kingdoms of the world.
The winds and storms have utterly obliterated the ephemeral impressions of
their course. Not a track remains of a single foot, or a single noof, of tdl
the countless millions of men and beasts whose progress once spread desolation
over the earth. Bnt the reptiles that crawled upon the half-finished surface
of our infant planet, have left memorials of their passage enduring and
indelible. — Dr, Buckland.

TEXT SPARRING.

The diversity of Christian sects has been greatly multiplied by diflferent
religionists framing some exclusive creed on unconnected sentences and
isolated texts. The mysteries which these spiritual lynxes detect in the
simplest passages, which they twist and torture, remind one of the five
hundred nondescripts, each as large as his own black cat, which Dr.
Katerfelto, by aid of his solar microscope, discovered in a drop of trans-
parent water. Let those who are in danger of this polemical infection,
attend to the following golden aphorism of one of our oldest and most
orthodox divines. " Sentences in Scripture," says Dr. Donne, " like hairs
in horsetails, concur in one root of beauty and strength ; being plucked out,
one hy one^ serve only for springs and snares."

PUBLIC INSTRUCTION.

Our statesmen, who survey with jealous dread all plans for the education
of the poor, may be thought to proceed on the system of antagonist muscles^
in a belief, that the closer a nation shuts its eyes, the wider it will open its
hands. Or do they act on the principle that the status belli is the natural
relation between the people and the Government, and that it is prudent to
secure the result of^ the contest by gotiging the adversary in the first
instance ? ^as \ the policy of the maxim is on a par with its honesty.
The Philistines had put out the eyes of Samson, and thus, as they thought,
fitted him to drudge and grind ; but his darkness added to his fury, without
diminishing his strength.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket. 99

EUBOFEAlf DIPLOMATISTS CHARACTEBISED, AS THET AFFEABED AT
THE czar's coronation.

We were presented at the coronation by Count Momy, the French
Ambassador, a spick and span man of considerable aplomb, and who, by
the way, is one of the greatest speculators in the world. He speculates in
everything, and bought a lot of pictures to sell again and make a profit
of. Next to Count Momy stood the representative of a country which
deserves the sympathies of all civilized people, Sardinia, — General Dabor-
mida. Then came the ambassador of the smallest kingdom in Europe,
Belgium, the Prince de Ligne, the very picture of swelling insignificance, so
swelling, indeed, that he could not tor the life of him look down from the
contemplation of his own importance. Then there was that fine specimen
of a man. Prince Esterhazy, the representative of Austria. Then the
representative of Naples, of whom, in charity, I will say nothing. Then
the Turkish representative, a clever Turk. Of course he was not admitted
into the church. At the same time, you could not look at him without
feeling that he was the representative oi an effete and worn-out nation. It
was impossible for Turkey long to resist the aggression of Russia without
assistance. Then came the Papal representative, and finally, that of this
country, Lord Granville, than whom no one could more thoroughly repre-
sent a true Englishman. He was the representative of the most powerful
nation in the world, yet plainly dressed. When I saw him standing amid
the decorated group aroimd him, I was reminded of the lines of Burns-—

^ A king can make a belted knight,

A marquiss, duke, and a' that;
But an honest man's abune his might-—

A man*s a man for a' that."

FOTEMEIN AND THE TATJRIDA.

There is another great palace, the Taurida. It was given by Catherine
to the remarkable character called Potemkin — remarkable for the power he .
acquired over that most powerful Empress. Potemkin secured to Russia
that very spot, the Crimea, in which so much precious blood and treasure
have been lately expended by the Allies. Potemkin caused the Khan of the
Crimea to be assassinated, and then attached the border of the Black Sea to
Kussia. It was he, who, first raised the post with the well-known inscrip-
tion, ** La route de Constantinople^^ — an inscription which it has ever been
the anxious desire of the Northern Czars to carry out, and which remains
for Europe to prevent

THE CROWN JEWELS OF RU88IA.

In the Winter Palace are deposited the Crown Jewels. I have travelled
a good deal, and seen many fine sights, but I never saw anything like the
splendid jewels belonging to the Sovereign and people of that Court and
country. They are something beyond belief. The crown exhibits a ruby
such as was never seen before ; the sceptre has the largest emerald in the
world ; the ball of state has an enormous sapphire ; the Empress's beautiful
crown of pearls contains the largest pearl I ever saw ; and the effect
produced by this congregation of brilliants is something quite magnificent.
DVit these alas ! only serve to symbolise a dominion over myriads of Serfs.

UNAFPRECIATED BENEFACTORS.

Kumerous are the instances, both in Europe and America, of the sufferings,
the privations, the scorn, the scoflSngs, and the contumely which many
pioneers in a good cause have had to endure. In the latter country may be
specially mentioned the celebrated Robert Morris, the financier of the
American revolution, who died a bankrupt. Christopher Colles, the earliest.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

100 Religious Intelligence.

most enterprising, and most efficient advocate of inland navigation of the
huge waters of the western world, was interred, by private charity, in the
Strangers' burying-ground. The splendid essays of Jesse Hawley, which
convinced the American people of the feasibility and importance of a con-
tinuous canal from lake Erie to the Hudson Biver and the Atlantic Ocean,
were sent forth from a debtors' prison. De Witt Clinton, who perfected
that glorious enterprise, and whose name is written upon the capital of every
column of the social edifice in America, was indebted to private hospitality
for a resting-place ; but the crowning ingratitude remains yet to be told.
Fulton, the immortal Fulton, whilst building, at New York, the first steam-
boat, the <* Clermont," we are told, was treated as an idle projector, whose
schemes would be useless to the world and ruinous to himself. ** Never
(says that martyr of ingratitude) did a single encouraging remark, a bright
hope, a warm wish, cross my path. Silence itself was but politeness, veilug
its doubts and hiding its reproaches."

THOUGHTS ON DEATH.

** To-day is thine, to-morrow mine ! "

So warns the solemn burial toll,
Oft as we back to earth return.

The tent of a departed soul;
And every grove repeats the line,
** To-day is thine, to-morrow mine ! "

Ah ! who can tell how near the hour!

Then let me die ere death has come !
So shall the summons not surprise.

Which calls me to my endless home ;
Strengthen me, Jesus, by thy power.
For who can tell how near the hour !

Thrice blessed those who die in Christ,

Death is to them the gate of life ;
Where faith is merged in glorious sight,

And victory crowns the earthly strife.
Life is but death, till Christ we see,
And death is life if His we be.

RELIGIOUS INTELLIGENCE.
STALEYBRIDGE AND GLOSSOP CIRCUIT.

Mr. Editor— Dear Sir,

Upon the whole as a Circuit, we have been favoured by the great Head of
the Church, with peace within our wails and prosperity within our palaces.

At Glossop especially there has been a blessed work going on for many
months. God has indeed, in the plenitude of his grace and mercy, signally
prospered the work of our hands in the conversion of sinnens turning them
from darkness to light, and the power of Satan to God, an infinitely greater
work than mere turning men from one set of notions in reference to eccle-
siastical polity to another. The reform going on in that locality has gone
deeper, having broken up the fountains of the great deep, the depths of the
human heart, and penetrated and explored the cavern or the soul. We trust
many have been added to our ranks such as shall he eternally saved.

Since the last Annual Assembly our increase is twenty full members,

and upwards of thirty on triaL And although in another place of the

.Circmt, some untoward circumstances of a painful character, wholly

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Religious Intelligence. 101

beyond; our control, because of their complicated nature, threatened
to render to some extent nugatory our increase both numerically and
financially in other parts of the Circuit ; yet, notwithstanding, there was
found at the December quarter-day, an advance also in the income of the
quarter of three pounds and upwards on the preceding one.

1 should take this opportunity to say, that at H oiling worth, the centre of
our Circuit, the friends have bestowed a great amount of labour, and spared
no expense in cleaning, painting, beautifying, and repairing, their chapel,
insomuch that the house of the Lord is now the admiration of all, and our
sincere and ardent desire and prayer to Almighty God the Master of Assem-
blies (who makes the place of His feet glorious, and will fflorify the house of
His glory) is, that it may be one mean among others of drawing those that
are without nearer unto the holy of holies, to behold the beauty of the Lord,
and enquire in his temple. We trust that as it has already proved the birthplace
of many souls in bygone days, that it will be said of many more that they
-were born there. O that the time may soon arrive when nothing shall be
done or practised in any of our places of worship, exclusively set apart
for religious adoration and service, but what strictly becomes the holiness
of his house. As light advances, and pure and undefiled religion increases,
this will be the case.

It is when Christians arrive at the stature of perfect men in Christ, that
tliey put away childish things.^ The amount expended in giving a
finishing stroke both to the interior and exterior of our place of worship
is, (inclusive of the great amount of labour done bv some parties without
charge) equal to seventy pounds, nearly the whole of which was realized by
re-opening services, subscriptions, and tea-meetings.

The Reformers have not as yet united with us, but appear to be approxi-
mating a little nearer, and will, we trust, ere long, make common cause with
us. Wm. Mackenmy.

STOCKTON CIRCUIT.

My Dear Sir,

When I came here in August, the aspect of our cause in this town was
really discouraging. On the evening of our arrival, I attended by request,
the regular week-night prayer-meeting in our chapel, where literallv ** two or
three *' were gathered together in the name of the Saviour. The findings of
the first Sabbath were anything but encouraging to me, just come from the
Sunderland Circuit.

A few Sundays after my arrival, I had to preach the Sunday-school ser-
mons. The children sung and said suitable hymns and pieces, much to the
credit of our persevering and sanguine friend, Mr. Greenwood. The company
in the morning was good, in the afternoon crowded, and in the evening
literally crammed. The collections were much in advance of their gatherings
for many ^ears. It was to our friends here a token for good, and had con-*
siderable influence on those that were without. That day may be noted as
the beginning of good days.

At our September Quarterly Meeting the subjects of union with the Re-
formers, and a series of revival services, were agreed upon as both desirable and
necessary. Immediately after, a committee of our own friends met a similar
number of our brethren of the Reformers, when it was agreed upon to close
our chapel in Stockton for repairs and cleaning, and to worship together with
the Reformers in theirs. They agreed to return with us at the re-opening,
and thus form one church and congregation. This auspicious event came
off October 26th, 1856, when three sermons were preached : in the morning,
by G. Blumer, Esq. of Hartlepool ; in the afternoon b;^ the Rev. T. Davison,
Independent (the writer being unable through domestic bereavement to take
the pulpit) ; and in the evening, by Mr. W. Hunter, of Hartlepool. The
day was fine, the congregations very good, and the influence most gracious.
On the following evening, the services were continued by a very well-attended
and well-conducted tea-meeting; and as the trays were furnished gratuitously

Digitized by VjOOQlC

102 Religiout Intelligence.

by the ladies of the united congregation, the re-opening services realized
upwards of 20/. toward the expense incurred bv the repairs. After tea, a
public-meeting was held, presided over by Mr. Blumer, and addressed by the
Key. J. M. Saul, of Darhngton, T. Davison, J. Stewart, and £. Hey wood, of
Stockton, and Messrs. Hunter and R. Bell, of Hartlepool, Mr. Sedgwick, of
Leeds, offering up at its opening a prayer, the remembrance of which is still
refreshing to many who were then present. The meeting was pervaded by
a solemnity, enthusiasm, and earnest religiousness. The interest was well-
sustained until a late hour, when the meeting broke up — all feeling that they
had seldom passed a more profitable and pleasant evening. The oneness of
spirit that pervaded the meeting betokened the future happiness to result from
the union.

The Revival services agreed upon, were held at East and West Hartlepool,
Stockton, and Middlesborough. The local brethren, the officers, and members
of the churches, heartily united with Mr. R. Bell, the Reform preacher, and
myself, and God was pleased to bless the united effort with considerable suc-
cess in each place, 'fhe churches were stirred up, some backsliders were re-
claimed, and a number of sinners were brought to Jesus. The aspect of
affairs in each place has much to encourage us, and we are sowing in hope.
During the last few weeks, twelve or fourteen souls have been brought to God
amongst our own people, those at Hartlepool, and Middlesborough, and the
dear, kind, earnest souls are looking for still greater things than these. The
income for the last quarter is just five per cent, more than the preceding one.
During the last few weeks I have delivered a series of three lectures both in
West and East Hartlepool, in the Reform school in the former, and chapel
in the latter place, on the Wesley Family. The subiect of the first was,
** John Wesley's Nonconformist Ancestors, with Sketches of their Times."
The second, " The Rev. Samuel Wesley, or the Parish Priest in Earnest, with
notices of the Genius and Moral Worth of his Sons and Daughters." The
third, " The Mother of John Wesley, or the Model Woman." The attendance
in each place was very good on each occasion ; and it is to be hoped that the
exhibition of so much embodied worth would not be lost upon the people.
The meetings were ably presided over by Messrs. G. Blumer, J. C. Brewis,
£. Londen, and W. Hunter, all Wesleyan Reformers.

The valuable remarks of the respective Chairmen save weight and influence
to the meetings. I am not without hope of seeing this Circuit, at a time not
distant, assume a ver^ important position in the body. Each of the portions
included in it, are rising in maritime and commercial importance, and I think
we have the nucleus of a good church in each place. Our friends at Hartlepool
are prepared to follow the example of Stockton, and form one church and
congregation as soon as arrangements can be made for chapel accommodation.
Our united prayer is, ** Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory
unto their cnildren *, and let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us, and
establish thou the work of our hands upon us : yea, the work of our hands
establish thou it"

Edmund Hetwood.

NORTH AND SOUTH SHIELDS CIRCUIT.

The Quarterly Meeting of this Circuit was held at North Shields, on the
24th ult The Rev. Richard Chew occupied the chair. There was a conside-
able attendance from the towns, and a few brethren were present from the
country. There was a balance on the ordinary accounts of upwards of 3/L
A preacher's house had been furnished during the quarter ; and towards this
60/. had been contributed, leaving a balance, on the wrong side, of about 40/.
The Circuit stewards were instructed to communicate with the Leaders' meetings
in North and South Shields, and with the country societies, and urge them
to take measures to raise this 40/. as soon as possible. Mr. James Gray, who
has long served the Circuit as one of the Circuit stewards, respectfully re-
quested not to be re-elected. Councillor Green was elected in his place ; and
Councillor Armstrong was re-elected as the. other Circuit steward. Mr.
Richard Reay was elected Circuit secretary, in the room of Councillor Green,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

ReUgums Intelligence. 103

who has acted in that capacity for several years. A vote of thanks was given
to Messrs. Gray and Green for their past services. A Circuit Committee and
a Plan Committee were also appointed, to hold office for a year. A verbal
report was given of the business which had been done at the Preachers'
meeting. The preachers had unfortunately to deal with a brother who had
deviated from the holy paths of the Gospel. One place had been removed
from the Plan, and a new place been put on. All that the Preachers' meeting
had done was confirmed by the Quarterly meeting. A letter was read from
Mr. Gaudv, stating the salaries, &c., of Connexional ministers. A resolution
was passed expressing cordial approval of the regulations referred to. This
Circuit is at perfect rest on the subject of amalgamation. The step taken
recently by the friends at Leeds, was taken here more than fifteen months ago,
and it answers admirably. There are two Circuit ministers, one belonging to
the Association, the other is a Reformer. The Circuit Plan is headed, '* Plan
of the Wesleyan Methodist Reform and Association Preachers." In Sunder-
land, also, a similiar course was adopted, a considerable time ago ; so that, if
any credit is due to the originators of such a mode of action, it must be given
to societies in this neighbourhood.

CHELTENHAM CIRCUIT.

To the Editor— Rev. and Dear Sir,

On the last Sabbath in the year that has just passed, we held special prayer-
meetings. We were favoured with the valuable services of Mr. Moses Hirst,
of the Forest of Dean, and Mr. CuUiss, of Worcester. In the evening, Mr.
Hirst preached, after wnich we continued our prayer-meeting. Several souls
professed to find peace with God, and several others were in deep sorrow for
sin, and determined not to leave the place until they had obtained mercy*
Consequently, we were constrained to continue the meeting to a most
unseasonable hour. It was after twelve o'clock before we could get all the
people to leave the chapel.

On the following evening, we held our usual Christmas tea-meeting. Mr.
CuUiss presided. The meeting was addressed by Enoch Beasley, Esq., of
Worcester; Messrs. Newton, Humphrevs and Lane. The speeches were of a
practical character, delivered with much feeling and energy, and the meeting
on the whole was one of the right stamp, free from that spirit of levity which
is so unbecoming in a meeting profe8seal3r of a religious character.

On New Years day we held a tea-meeting at Charlton, in connection with
the opening of the chapel there. Fifty persons sat down to tea. Mr. Newton
took the chair, and after a short address, called on Messrs. Humphreys, Lane,
and M. Lane to speak. Our dear brethren were earnest and pointed, and their
speeches were most enthusiastically applauded by the people. We have com-
menced a Sabbath-school at Charlton, and although we have met with a little
opposition, I am happy to say, that we have succeeded well, and already have
between thirty and forty scholars. Charlton is a populous but scattered
village, containing some 4000 or 5000 inhabitants, many of whom are living
in darkness, and in the shadow of death. Our friends are determined, by
God's help, to be instrumental in saving some of them ; and, already, whUe
preaching Jesus to them, we have seen the tear of penitence, and have no
doubt that in a short time, we shall succeed, in est^ablishing a Society in this
place. Our good Brother Humphreys, who some time since laboured as an
Association preacher in York, manifests a deep interest in this place, and is
likely to be very useful.

Our friends have adopted Wesley's motto, which they have placed at th^
head of their Preachers' and Prayer-leaders' Plan, " All at it, and always at
it," and are coming up to the help of the Lord against the mighty. The

Ereacbers are trying to extend their spheres of labour, and endeavouring to
e more useful. The leaders are earnestly entreating the people to join their
happy numbers by meeting in class; and here, allow me to remark, that we
find the old Methodistic custom to work well. Amongst our good Brethren,
the Reformers, previous to their amalgamating with us, there were a few who
did not appear to appreciate the class-meeting ; but we discussed the matter

Digitized by VjOOQIC

104

Eeligious Intelligence,

in the spirit of brotherly love, and foand that with one or two exceptions their
opinions coincided with ours, that class-meetings to a great extent are the life
and soul of Methodism, and now most of our members meet very regularly.

Our Sunday-school Teachers are considering the best means of increasing
the number of scholars, and of doing good to their youthful charge.

Our organist and leading singer is indefatigable m his endeavours to train
the people, and render this part of the Divine Worship as profitable to the
people, and as pleasing to God as he possibly can.

The good ladies, who are rarely if ever behind in labours of love, are
busily engaged in making articles for a Bazaar for the reduction of the chapel
debt ; and two of tliem, a few weeks since, presented us with a very hand-
some Bible for the pulpit, with ''Bethany Chapel'' in gold letters oji the
cover. A few others presented Mr. Newton with a very good reading easy-
chair, and, under existing circumstances, he considers this a very welcome
present.

In consequence of our peculiar circumstances, we could not arrange for the
renewal of tickets until the first week in January. Mr. Newton met all the
classes at one time, a most gracious influence seemed to pervade each breast;
several who have recently been brought to God, seemed full of love and holy
zeal. The old members appeared in a good state of mind, and expressed an
earnest desire to be more fully conformed to the image of God's dear Son,
and a determination to labour for souls. One very encouraging feature in the
experience of all was, that they testified to the gracious influence that per-
vaded all the means of grace, and the good they invariably realized by attend-
ing them.

On Tuesday, January 13th, we held our Quarterly meeting, and upon ex-
amining of the class-books, we were highly delighted to find that our Circuit
numbers were as follows: forty-five full members, with fourteen on trial, and
since then, we have admitted three others on trial.

Dear Sir, when we consider that only a few months back we were but eight
members, and two local preachers, we are constrained to exclaim, "What hath
God wrought ; " and I am sure you will join with us in ascribing all the glory
to God our Saviour, and in pleading that he will continue to carry on His
saving work, not only in Cheltenham, but in every part of the Connexion.

In conclusion, allow me to say, on behalf of all our members, that we feel
grateful to the Committee for acceding to our request in the appointment of
Mr. Newton to labour on this Circuit.

I am, Rev. and dear Sir, yours affectionately,

Henry Lane.'

POETRY.

OUR NATIVE LAND.

Breathes there the man, with roul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said
This is my own, my native land !
Whose heart hath ne'er within him bum'd
As home his footsteps he hath tum'd
From wandering on a foreign strand I
If such there breathe, go, mark him weU,
For him no minstrel raptures swell ;
High, though his titles, proud his name,

Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ;
Despite those titles, power and pelf.
The wretch, concentered all in self.
Living shall forfeit fair renown.
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
XJn-wept, un-honoured, and un-sung.

Scott.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

THE
WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE.

MARCH, 1857.

SHADOWS OF THE PAST, DAWNINGS OF THE FUTURE,

No. HI.

We must, now, turn from the condition of Italy to tlie state of
things in the Eastern world. The year 1856 closed with the perpe-
tration of what, we cannot but regard as a most wanton outrage on
one of the largest cities on the face of the earth — we allude to the
unjust attack made by the British forces on Canton, that ancient
emporium of Chinese Commerce, in the month of November last.
Whether we regard the immoral character of the contraband trade in
Opium, valued at more than five millions sterling, and attended by
the ruin of thousands and tens of thousands of Chinese families, which
is carried on there, under the protection of the British flag, and in
violation of Treaty-obligations, or the unjustifiable destruction of life
and property, which has been dealt out by our fleet to a densely
crowded city, or the suspension of legitimate business, in one of the
most important branches of our Foreign Trade, or the breaking up of
the moral organizations set on foot by our Missionary and Bible
Societies, for the spiritual improvement of one of the most ingenious
and interesting people in the Heathen world — we cannot but regard
this War with mingled feelings of humiliation and of abhorrence.
We feel it to be a dishonour to our flag — a scandal to our country and
our name, which must subject, even our Beligion tQ reproach and
suspicion among a people whose ideas of Christianity must be
gathered, for the most part, from the public acts of the nations by
which it is professed.

What are the Chinese likely to think of the Civilization of a people
who can perpetrate such atrocities on such miserable pretexts ? Will
they not pronounce us Barbarians still, with double emphasis ? Will
they not scout the very idea of a Civilization in the Western world
of a type, equal and even superior to their own, and tortoise-like shut
themselves up, more closely, in the shell of their isolation ? But the
worst eflfects of this outrage, we fear, will be realised in the antagon-
ism which it will rouse in the Chinese mind to all the efforts of true
philanthropists, to promote the moral renovation of their country.
Such deeds as those perpetrated by Admiral Seymour, are adapted
only to raise up obstacles to the reception of those moral truths which
are designed by the philanthropy of God our Saviour, to effect a
moral revolution in China — to place Christ in the position which

Digitized by VjOOQlC

106 Shadows of the Past,

Buddha has occupied from time immemorial, and to inaugurate the
dominion of humanizing and regenerating influences over three hun-
dred and sixty millions of our common family. We know not, how
the Providence of God may overrule human folly for the advance-
ment of His gracious purposes ; but judging from all the data before
us, we should pronounce the outrage equally injurious to the interests
of its perpetrators and of its victims. Should it eventuate other-
wise, it can only be by an exercise of that Divine sovereignty which
often times causes '^ the wrath of man to praiee Him." And no thanks
will be due to a policy, which, humanly considered, was adapted to
produce the most appalling results in relation to the most momentous
interests of nearly half the human family.

But the influence of this outrage, though first felt in China, to the
prejudice of the British name, will not end there. It cannot hut
operate greatly to our prejudice among the nations of the Western
world. What must they think of our vaunted sympathy with op-
pressed nationalities ? What of our interference in behalf of Italy
and of Turkey, and of our " moral support " to the Hungarian
struggle, when they see us hurling the thunder of the broadsides of
our British men-of-war against an impotent people, with, we fear, no
better purpose than the facilitating of traffic in a drug, which stu-
pifles and debases all that fall under its influence ; a drug, which has
spread disease and death over millions of besotted victims, along the
whole sea-board of China. This marvellous inconsistency has struck
the attention of Englishmen, whose patriotic feelings are beyond all
suspicion. They have said : —

If a Ciceroachio is assassinated by Austrian bayonets, or a Poerio is im«
V mured in a Neapolitan prison, you may call heaven and earth to testify
against this iniquity, as more than hnmanity can endure. But if a Chinese
city, with a million and a half of inhabitants, is bombarded by British
cannon, until a spectacle of horror is produced before which the imagination
shudders and reels, we are expected to believe that such a course is
*' humane, rational, and necessary."

When dispassionate Englishmen speak thus, we are justified in
pronouncing the conduct of our representatives in this Cantonese
affair, as -being at war with the sentiments and feelings of civilized
man wherever it is known. Foreign nations will not judge of
our conduct with more leniency than we do ourselves. Indeed,
our intelligent neighbours on the other side of the Channel, have
already began to moralise on the Canton outrage, in a most edi-
fying but not very flattering style. Taking their data from state-
ments which have appeared in the "Friend of China," they say,
" the question at issue is the Supremacy of England in China, and
Sir J. Bowring occupies there the position held by Clive in Hin-
dostan : he must advance, and either perish or add another empire to
the British Crown. If we ask on what grounds rests this right of
Conquest, we are answered by the Eight of the Stronger /" Now,
we have no fear of Sir J. Bowring repeating in the nineteenth century
what was done by the dauntless Clive in the eighteenth : we have no
belief that any such visions float before the Imagination of the Consul

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Dawnings of the Future. 107

as disturbed the slumbers of the energetic Clerk. But the above will
show that vigilant eyes are upon us, and that the national character
is in imminent peril. Nor can we, — a people who presume to act as
Censors- general of all nations, — complain if our public acts are
criticised in the face of Europe. Our conduct in this nefarious
business has been such, as might have provoked criticism in the case
of a nation of much humbler pretensions than our own. Our Flag
has been hoisted in the cause of Outrage and of Oppression. It has
been used to cover one of the most vicious Trades, ever carried on by
man. When we find it thus prostituted for the most damnable
purposes, we partake of the feeling excited by this outrage among
Foreign nations, and could almost disown the National Flag with all
the historic glory, that has gathered round it during the thousand
years it has " floated in battle and in breeze."

Men filled with virtuous indignation at this outrage, reproach us
with affecting to be revolted at the conduct of the Spaniards in car-
rying on the African Slave-trade, while we carry on an almost equally
diabolic traflic between India and China. The Spaniards say they,
at least, prohibited the export of Opium from Manilla to China,
and the Dutch from Batavia. America like England, entered into a
treaty by which Opium-smuggling is prohibited, and she faithfully ob-
serves it. No vessel of the States covers the contraband article with the
the Stars and Stripes in the presence of their Consuls, while St. George's
Cross protects the ships of other countries engaged in their buccaneer-
ing mission. And proh pudor! even so late as September 1855, the
English Opium-smugglers at anchor at Loochoofoo, saluted with their
guns that eminent philanthropist Sir J. Bo wring, the representative of
England in China. While our conduct is the butt of reproach to all
classes of writers who take but a political view of the aspect of affairs
in the East, the worst consequences have ensued with respect to those
moral instrumentalities which the Christian principle of this country
had called into operation, for the moral enfranchisement of China.
The war has put a stop to all Missionary and Bible Society opera-
tions. Nay, more. Schools, Native Teachers, Medical Missions, as
well as Missionaries, have been scattered abroad with loss of property,
books, and furniture. The London Missionary Society's Hospital
has been deserted. The Missionary family has been obliged to take
refuge in Hong Kong. The Wesleyan Mission has been driven from
Canton. The American Presbyterian Mission has had its premises
and property destroyed by the fire which broke out under the bom-
bardment of the representatives of a Christian Power, and the Missio-
naries have been compelled to seek refuge in Macao. Surely, now, the
time has come if ever, for the eloquent and noble minded Gladstone
to repeat with increased emphasis, the declaration made by him at
the outbreak of the former Chinese War ; — " our Flag is hoisted to
protect an infamous contraband traffic, and if it were never to be
hoisted except as it is now hoisted on the coast of China, we should
recoil from the sight with horror ; we should never again feel our
hearts thrill as they now thrill with emotion, when it floats proudly
and magnificently in the breeze."

I 2

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

108 Shadows of the Past^

It is pleasing to turn from the dark aspect of affairs in China, at
the close of the last year, to the brighter scenes upon which
the eyes of Christian Philanthropists in India fell, just as the funeral
dirge of 1856 was being sounded throughout our Eastern empire.
Our readers will remember that in a former paper we gave credit to
Lord Dalhousie*s Administration, for having bt/ law abolished Sut-
teeism in all parts of Hindostan. It had been the immemorial
practice to burn the living widow on the same pile with the remains
of her deceased husband. To the Indian Government attaches
the credit of having adopted a Law in prohibition of this inhuman
practice. In doing this, which was but to protect the life of the Indian
subject, they performed, as we conceive, all that appertains to the
functions of the civil magistrate, in such a case. They could not by
mere legislative enactment abolish the ancient prejudices of the Hin-
doo people — prejudice is too subtle an agent to be dealt with by the
Law-maker. It was not in their province to ordain that, on a
certain day the widow thus saved from the fire by British law, should
be united in matrimony to some surviving Hindoo. In protecting the
widow's life, they exercised the only functions of Government in the
case, the rest was left, very properly, to the influence of Reason and
of Truth. Nor was there, humanly speaking, much ground to antici-
pate a very speedy triumph. A prejudice which had existed probably
since the age of the Pyramids might have been supposed likely to
survive the legislative enactment in question, for some generations,
at least. But no! The ink of the enactment was hardly dried:
Lord Dalhousie had scarcely arrived, in this country, before an event
transpired which showed how fully the public mind of India was
prepared to profit by the humane legislation of their Christian rulers.
One of the very latest, and certainly by far the most important event
of the year, was the Marriage of a Hindoo Widow ! Henceforth,
the year One thousand eight hundred and fifty-six, will mark a new-
era in the social and religious history of Hindostan : an era vastly
more important to the real interests of mankind than any avatar or
work of their gods, not excepting that of Brahma's escape from the
divine Qgg which he split in halves, making the heavens out of the
one half, and the earth out of the other.

An eloquent writer observes : —

The event, then, which the Indian news has communicated, domestic as
it is, is by no means an unimportant one. It is a sign of decided growth
in the native mind ; it is an act of moral courage, and defiance of the
Hindoo gods. History and philosophy alike show the extreme difiiculty
with which the human mind shakes off the weight of customary and arti-
ficial moi-ality. What people have been taught to think wronff, they con-
tinue to think wrong; the independent appeal to the light of reason and
conscience is the very last act which they perform, and they do it generally
with trembling when they do take the step, and half think themselves
impious for it. When Hindoo religion, then, has said immemorially that a
widow's marriage is wrong, it is a great step when any nnmber of Hindoos
say, as they do say now, that a widow's marriage is right. Doubtless many
an orthodox Hindoo is seriously grieved and distressed at so audacious an
innovation j he feels earth and sky whirling round him, and the ground

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Dawnings of the Future, 109

giving way from under his feet, as ho contemplates such an act of impiety;
he wonders why the destroyer does not at once crush the delinquents ; he
sees avenging deities hissing through the throats of the millions of snakes
which form Sieir celestial head-dress ; he sees the multitudinous legs and
arms of Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva, in angry commotion, their nostrils
breathing fire, and their tongues dropping blood ; all the shapes of his
portentous theology come out, and he dreams of dragons coiling their tails
round the universe, and threatening to crush all nature. But the time is
obviously approaching when the ortnodox Hindoo must retire to his cell,
and groan in solitude over the degenerac}r of modern piety and growth of
religious laxity. When people once begin to alter their moral standard
they generally go on. The difficulty lies in the first step, the first act of
independent appeal to natural reason and law. When this act has heen
once done, the human mind feels it strength, and moves more freely after it.
We have heen told, indeed, over and over again of the immovableness of
the Hindoo mind, and how impossible it is to put a new idea into it ; but
the fact now confutes these judges. It was, however, quite absurd even
beforehand to settle the question so summarily against the Hindoo. How in
the world could we know what his mind was, or what there was in it, so
long as it was kept down by the weight of a colossal superstition, and so
long as we did nothing at all to relieve it from that weight? What
possible right had we to say that the Hindoo was incapable of progress,
when we ourselves stopped up the way ? But these recent facts, at any
rate, refute this idea. It now appears that the English Government of
India have been more orthodox Hindoos than the Brahmins themselves, and
have, in their dread of offending the native prejudices, heen actually keep-
ing them up artificially, when of themselves they were ready to yield. But
this has heen the consequence of that exclusively mercantile basis on which
India has been hitherto neld. How could we legislate well for India when
we did not even pretend that our aim as possessors of India was the good of
India? Improve this ground and motive, and we shall see the Hindoo
with different eyes. We shall see abundant reason to hope where at pre-
sent we despair. India will afford a field to the zeal of the philanthropist
which it has not had since the abolition of the Slave-trade ; and the im-
provement of that great empire, and the progress of that multitudinous race
will elicit and employ the benevolent energies of years.

It now appears that the English Government of India have been
more orthodox Hindoos than the Brahmins themselves ! What a hu-
miliating confession ! We could almost wish that the Edinburgh Re-
viewers of 1808, living and deceased, could be assembled in the India
House, with the Magnates of the Company, to listen to it from the Ora-
cle of Printinghouse Square, that well instructed organ of the public
opinion of mankind both in this and other lands: we do wish that it
could reach the ears of Major Scott Waring, and other individuals of his
class, who were so eloquent some fifty years ago, on the sublime morality
of the Hindoo system, and the imminent risk to which British rule in
India was exposed from the vain and impotent efforts of Carey and
Marsh man, to gain over the worshippers of Brahma, Vishnu, and
Siva, to the worship of the One God, the maker of heaven and
earth! Bat this cannot be. We must be content to give up half our
wishes. Meanwhile, the maxim of the ancients is again verified ;
Truth is mighty, and shall prevail !

The intelligence up to the close of the year, with respect to the
operation of other restrictions designed to protect the Hindoo against

Digitized by VjOOQIC

1 10 Shadows of the Past,

the barbarising and destructive influence of the BraUminical super-
Btition, is eminently cheering. When Dr. Boaz was in this country
a few years ago, he announced, with the enthusiasm of a genuine
philanthropist, that certain measures for the protection of the Hindoo
had then been adopted. He told us, amid the plaudits of five or six
thousand persons in Exeter Hall, that infanticide had been abolished
— that Sutteeism had been made legal murder — that the British
Government no longer placed sentries in the city of Kandy to guard
the sacred tooth of Buddha — that they no longer collected the
Revenues of the Temple — that they no longer paid the priests, in the
Island of Ceylon. This was all very pleasing, but it was the mere
inauguration of a new state of things that was thus announced by that
eminent Missionary. Timid men wished to know what would be the
end of such reckless innovation. They thought only of the sunken
rocks upon which the vessel was destined to founder. And what has
been the event ? Well, the last year has been singularly fruitful of
materials to re-assure the doubting, and to inflame the zeal of the most
lukewarm advocates of Missionary enterprise in the Edst. The
Friend of India^ an unexceptionable witness, says: —

Two years since the Government of Bengal issued a circular, calling
for opinions as to the propriety of abolishing the Churruck Poojah. The
opinions, we believe, were favourable to the measure. The festival, always
cruel and obscene, has at last become unfashionable. Respectable natives
never attend the ceremony. The upper classes denounce it as a relic of
barbarism. Even among the lower orders no one swings except upon com-
pulsion, or when stupified with opium and hemp. It was expected that an
order would follow, prohibiting the practice, but for some unlknown reason
Government hesitated and drew back. The Government of Bombay is
more courageous. It has abolished the nuisance by a simple proclamation.
It is not fifty years, since experienced men believed that the abolition of
Suttee would produce a revolution. It was abolished nevertheless, and
India remains a British possession. The suicides at Juggurnaut speedily
followed, and even Pooree held its peace. Almost the first great act of the
new Legislative Council, was to remove the restriction on the re-marriage
of widows. The pundits are not for that cause inculcating the sacred duty
of insurrection. Koolin polygamy is already doomed, amidst the open
applauses of the population. And now the Government of Bombay, in a city
more Hindoo than the Shastras, sweeps away ceremony without the forma-
lity of an Act. It simply declares the Poojah, a nuisance, and public
opinion supports the declaration. What is the next step to be ?

But Education was the most tickle subject, a few years ago, not
only in Leadenhall-street, but also in Calcutta. The rulers of the
people were willing to educate the Hindoo in the works of Bacon,
Locke, Newton, and even Shakspere, long before they would give any
countenance to the Bible as a part of any general system of instruc-
tion. When Dr. Boaz was on a visit to this country, he boasted that
within six miles of the Metropolis of British India, there were not less
than six thousand persons receiving education in English literature.
This was then the case within six miles of the metropolis. But now
schools are rising up in the interior provinces. We learn that : —

Pandit Gopal Sin^h, one of the Zillah visitors of indiffenous schools, had
succeeded in establishing in the Agra district upwards of fifty schools,
attended by 1,200 girls of the most respectable families. The hope was

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Dawnings of the Future. Ill

also expi*e8sed that the number of schools would be doubled in the coarse
of the current year. This hope has been already far more than realized.
We are informed that up to the first week of the present month, nearly
200 schools had been established, with an aggregate daily attendance of
3,800 girls. It is rather a social revolution than a local movement which
Pandit Gropal Singh has inaugurated. The pupils are nearly all Hindoos,
belonging, as the European officials assure us, to the more respectable
classes of the native community. The teachers are all men.

Next to the extension of Ministerial Agency in India, we regard
the increase of schools for the education of Hindoo youth as the most
hopeful sign of the times for our Eastern Empire, and for the cause
of Missions. Hitherto the Shasters of the Brahmin have been
almost the only writings in the possession of the Native population
of India, and they contain, not merely, all the information which the
Hindoos hare had recourse to, on the subject of religion, but also on
history, astronomy, geography, and medicine. Now those Books
contain the m«fit erroneous statements on these matters. As hiS"
torical records, they are found most ludicrously to confound chro-
nologies ; as astronomical^ to be utterly inconsistent with the laws
known to regulate the motions of the heavenly bodies ; as geogra-
phicaly to err most egregiously as to place and distance ; and as
books of Medicine, to be much more adapted to kill than to cure.
But the Printing Press in India is sending forth books on all these
subjects. They are now easily accessible to the native population.
The youth of India are being familiarized with the truths which
these books contain, and in proportion as real science and truth —
moral and spiritual, take hold of the native mind, will they lose
their reverence for that old library of Romance in which the Hindoo
iatellect has revelled for more than twenty centuries. When the au-
thority of their books, in history and science, has been destroyed, they
will command but little reverence as depositories of religious know-
ledge.

From the diffusion of general knowledge, the true religion has
nothing indeed to fear, but a false one everything. Based on false-
hood and imposture, the clearing away of the mists of Ignorance
must unveil its hoUowness and deformity. Every other kind of truth
is the auxiliary of the peculiar truths of Revealed Religion in the
Crusade against the Colossal Superstition of the Hindoos. We,
therefore, hail the institution of District Schools in India, as one
grand means, under God, of preparing the way for the final triumph
of the Cross among its teeming population. Here, Christian philan-
thropy, after half a century of toilsome effort, now begins to perceive
the dawn of a brighter day, when the thrones of Indian Superstition
shall be broken before the triumphal march of the great Redeemer :—
when, as Dr. Hamilton has observed, in his admirable work on
Missions, ** from the Indus to the Teeata, from Comorin to Imaus, the
false tutelaries shall flee away, and the true Religion shall unfold its
blessings, — ^the true Avatar of Christ's flesh, the true Metempsychosis
of the Spirit's work, the true Veda of the Scripture's Inspiration ! "
Hail ! happy day for India, and for the Eastern World.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

112

ON ENTHUSIASM.

This term may be viewed in a good and bad sense. Enthusiasm in a bad
sense, is to expect the end without the means. There is a great deal of ibis
in the world. How manj, for instance, are expecting to succeed in a tem-
poral point of view, but whq do not employ the right means. What ai-e
those qualities with which some men succeed so admurably ? Certainly not
those which the enthusiasts employ ; for these latter are either dreamers or
fools. They foolishly hope to succeed without those necessary qualities
which command success. We may extend these remarks to any business,
profession, or undertaking whatever, and we shall see their applicabili^.
Can a man hope to be an eminent lawyer whose time is principally spent in
clubs, or poring over novels ? Can a man reasonably expect to be an emi-
nent statesman who pays no attention to the debates or laws of the land.
Or can a man hope to be an eminent and successful minister who pays no
attention to correctness of speech, the doctrines of religion, or the character
of his sermons ? Such persons may be very enthusiastic, but will not be
very successful. They will develope much of the organ of hope, but little of
the spirit of wisdom. They will be like the man who professes to fish, but
who neglects to bait his hook.

The taproom politicians are to a man enthusiasts, for they are expecting
the Government to do for them what they will not do for themselves. They
can'Y their enthusiasm to great lengths, for they build themselves up with
the hopes of a reform which will be of little or no advantage to them. They
decry slavery while they are in bonds. And the bondage is their own,
which is all the more glaring.

Another class of enthusiasts are the ignorant. This class expect to be
heard and respected though destitute of all true wisdom. It is too late in
the day to listen to the pratings of a fool. If a man will be respected, he
must respect himself. This the ignorant do not, or they would seek that
knowledge which would make them respected. The enthusiasm of some
ignorant people is very great, for they expect the wise to listen to them.
As soon It might be expected that the nightingale would listen to the
screeching of the owl.

This enthusiasm is sometimes found in the church, where some are met
with who expect the end without the means, or in other words the world to
be converted without suitable effort. What is prayer without effort, but
enthusiasm ? And what is labour without prajer,but enthusiasm too ? In
fact, this enthusiasm which expects the end irrespective of the means, is
found everywhere. Have we not all too much of it ?

The man who hopes to get to heaven without walking in the way, is an
enthusiast. The number of such is legion. How strongly our Lord endea-
vours to guard against this where he says, " Not every one that saith unto
me. Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven." Many of the
.believers in final j)erseverance have a great deal of this enthusiasm, for they
expect the end without the means. We see none of this in St. Paul, that
noble pattern of what a Christian should be. ** I keep under my body, and
bring it into subjection ; lest by any means, when I have preached to others,
I myself should be a castaway." " Forgetting ttose things which are behind,
and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the
mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." We have
also every guard against this enthusiasm in Ood^s word, ** Be thou faithful
unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." " Give all diligence to
make your calling and election sure.''

Let us now view enthusiasm in its best and noblest sense. Much that is
regarded as enthusiastic in its worst sense, is only so from the fact that it is

Digitized by VjOOQIC

On Enthtmasfu, 113

too elevated for the criticisewi, who can form no proper idea of anything
which rises above their low notion of things. Everything noble and
vigorous is enthusiastic to them.

Enthusiasm proper is that which is enlightened in character, and worked
out with spirit. The question is, what is the rule by which projects may be
judged and the promoters charged, or not charged with enthusiasm ? At
present the rule seems to be success, for he who fails is sure to be pro-
nounced an enthusiast. But the above rale is evidently not a correct one.
The failure may be from the want of time to work the principle out. Or it
may arise from other causes over which the enthusiast (so called) may have
no control.

Enthusiasm is required for the accomplishment of any great undertaking.
Without it, how puny and unsuccessful will the efforts be. It is true,
enthusiasm is decried, but unnecessarily so, for nothing is more needed.
Zeal without knowledge we have, but knowledge with zeal is a deside-
ratum. How cautious many are lest they should be charged with enthu-
siasm.. Nay, how guarded against any approach thereto. And yet it is
the very thing that is needed, for it would show earnestness in what they
take in hand. And here we might ask, how far any are justified in giving
a cool support to what they regard as true and necessary tor the well-being
of man ?

Wo see no lack of enthusiasm in Christ and his apostles, or in the great
spirits that have appeared from time to time on the theatre of the world in
the great departments of philosophy, science, and art. Their followers are
greatly in the rear, for they would on no account be deemed enthusiastic.

What can a minister of religion do without enthusiasm? But little
indeed. He may go through a round of duties, but most assuredly vdll do
hut little besides. He needs to have his spirit deeply imbued with religious
influence, to have his zeal inflamed from communion with Christ, to be
warmed up to a degree of holy fervour at the spiritual destitution of the
people around him, to be animated above measure by that " far more exceed-
ing and eternal weight of glory," which awaits him and all he can lead to
heaven.

His zeal is to be commensurate with his work, and to the world, if not
to the church, he is to be an enthusiast indeed. The minister who is not
enthusiastic is scarcely worthy the position he occupies. It is surprising a
minister can be otherwise. Until there is more enthusiasm manifested
among the leaders of the " sacramental host of God's elecf," we look in vain
for a new moral world. We may see here and there an oaisis in the desert,
hut shall be a long way off witnessing a sanctified humanity, and a uni-
versal Eden.

In a lecturer too, enthusiasm is particularly required. His province is to
enlighten and influence, and to accomplish the latter, a degree of enthu-
siasm will be required. He, the lecturer, must be full of his subject, up to
the mark in the delivery of it, bent on enforcing his views on his audience,
and making them of one mind with him, and his views to prevail in the
world. Less than this will not do. And if this be enthusiasm we must
have it in our lecturers, or failure in a great measure will be the conse-
quence. Anything that is deserving of our approval and commendation is
deserving of our zealous support and energetic commendation. In lecturing
where point is to be enforced, it should be done in a manner that will not
fail to tell. In a word, it should be done enthusiastically. The motto of
every lecturer should be, " conviction and persuasion," and to this end,
nothing should be omitted that would be likely to accomplish the object.

All teachers of youth should have a measure of enthusiasm about them.
Bat they ask, is there anything about teaching calculated to make any man
enthosiaetic? Yes, much. Is it nothing to mould the next generation, to

Digitized by VjOOQIC

114 Hints on Usefulness.

form habits of industry, frugality, and temperance ; to aasiat in making the
scholar, the statesman, the juror, or the man ; to take one who knows
nothing and teach him everything he needs to know, for that station he
may be called to fill ; or to put him in the way of acquiring all knowledge
essential to his best interests and welfare generally ? Here is room indeed
for enthusiasm. As teaching is about the noblest employment, so ought it
to be done in the most energetic manner. It is worthy of the highest
powers of man, and of the greatest possible enthusiasm. Let every Gamaliel
then think that for anything he knows, a young man who may turn out a
Paul, may be sitting at his feet. Enthusiasm in the desk, the platform,
and pulpit, would soon revolutionize the world. Let us not then be
frightened at the bugbear of enthusiasm.
£olt<m, B. Glazebbook.

HINTS ON USEFULNESS.

Be assured that things external cannot remove the evils found in the
depraved heart, nor afford those supplies always needed to enable us to
live before God aright. Mere human contrivance will always fieill short
of meeting the wants our spirit feels. Christ must be recognized as the
Way, the Truth, and the Life ; and only in and through Him can ve
obtain that which will make and keep us right. Though the above are the
honest sentiments of our heart, yet we think a proper estimate of outward
means. is important, inasmuch as a judicious use thereof, has a tendency to
brine; before the mind's eye those things we should never lose sight of.
While in our probationary state we sh^al find ourselves surrounded with
many adverse elements and things, calculated to dissipate the mind. A
countermand is needed, and that is often found in Uie means of grace wheu
attended to aright. And now as we are about to enter on another year, I
feel it on my heart to beg of the members of our Society to observe a
few things, which if observed one year, would secure such an amount of
good, that they would be disposed to try another, and endeavour to prevail
with others to do so too.

1. Let us all resolve that once a week at least, we will stay before God
in secret, until we feel, even more, of the renewing power of saving grace
than we did when we were first brought to know God. 'Ibis will prevent
us from losing our firat love.

2. Let us see to it, that the fountain from whence our conversation floors,
and the root from which our action grows, be pure. This is all importaot.

3. Let us so examine the course we pursue before it is pursued, as t«
be assured that the viewing of it afterwards will be, both to us and
others, like the pouring forth of sweet ointment.

4. Let us view doubting God's truth as one of the greatest sina we can
commit." Oh, how we insult Him when we doubt what He has said ; God's
having commanded us to believe, implies that we may believe the truth
suited to our circumstances, if we will, and if we do not, the fault is our
own. Did He ever command his people to do that which is imposaible ?

5. Let us resolve so to live every day as to secure through Christ, the
abiding testimony that our ways please God. 0 how vast the peace attend-
ant on those who thus live ; it is such as neither health, wealth, honour,
nor anything earthly can afford.

6. If possible, let us read a portion of God's word on our knees eveiy
day. Those who observe this aright, will find the word to be, as a pasture
green, one in which the great Shepherd will richly feed his flock. The writer
heard a poor man, who had a large family, and their bread to procure, bj
working a cotton-mill, say, he was going for the fifth time on his knee?.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Godliness viewed in connection with Temporal Things. 115

If this be viewed as it ought, by those whose time is not taxed as this poor
man's was, will it not bring the blush on the cheek ? Idleness and leanness
are found to go together.

7. Let us each say my class-meeting, and all means of grace, that I ought
to attend, shall not be neglected by me through this year. O that all con-
nected with our Societies may thus resolve, and from the God of all grace,
receive that strength that may enable them to act accordingly. My bre-
thren, time is short, how fast it is flying, we shall be gone very soon, and
what has been done for eternity ] There is a record which is being kept
of each day's actions, and this will soon be read out before assembled
worlds. 0 that we all may have it to say in the day of the Lord, I have
fought my way through, I have finished the work thou didst give me to do.

W.L

GODLINESS VIEWED IN CONNEXION WITH

TEMPORAL THINGS.

No.L

There are few who are not ready to admit that Godliness when viewed
in connexion with eternity, is the most " profitable " thing we can possess ;
nevertheless there are numbers who have an impression that it tends to
marr our temporal enjoyment, or at any rate, gives but a poor promise of
this life. It is lamentable to think that multitudes should perpetrate so
fatal an error, in reference to the glorious Gospel of the blessed God,
which, aceording to the summary of the angels, brings in its mission "glory
to God in the highest, on earth peace, goodwill towards men." It might
have been expected that man would, at least have examined its claims with
impartiality, ere he pronounced judgment against it. We might have
thought when all mankind were bent upon pursuing one object, namely,
happiness, that they would be ready to listen to, and receive with gladness
that which professed to guide them to this inestimable boon. That man
should scorn the Gospel, that he, instead of embracing, should proudly re-
ject it, and that he should do all this ere he deigns, so much, as to examine
whether these things be true or not, is to our mind, an incontestible proof
of the depravity of the human heart ; a singular illustration of the facility
with which the judgment may be perverted by the power of the passions.

It is our intention in the following remarks to view godliness in some of
its aspects, towards our temporal well-being ; a subject which has been
too much overlooked. With this object we may notice the value of godli-
ness in its direct tendency to promote our welfare.

Physically, No doubt all our readers are aware that we live under
certain uniform physical laws. We all know that our physical well-being
is promoted in proportion as we conform to those laws. All observa-
tions and experience shows that the violation of the least of them, brings
upon us a certain amount of physical suflPering. If this then be the
admitted fact, it is evident that that which preserves us from violating
those laws must promote our welfare physically. Now let the reader
examine the nature of godliness, and he will find that it possesses the
power to do this. It requires us "to deny ourselves of all ungodliness and
worldly lusts." It enjoins us " to crucify the flesh and the lusts thereof."
Temperance is an essential part of godliness, and he who faithfully con-
forms to its mor^l maxims, will be temperate in all things, and will live
"soberly and righteously in this present evil world." This is the purpoi't of
its teachings on this point. Hence, we shall find that if an individual has
been a possessor of godliness from " his youth up : " if he be free from any
hereditary taint, and has been providentially preserved from becoming the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

1J6 Biography of Elizabeth Greeniaood, Newton-Moor,

Tictim of any of the casualties incident to human life, he will be the most
likely person to possess one of the greatest boons of life, namely, good health.
It may safely be laid down as a general rule that the good man, all other
circumstances being equal, will by his habits preserve to his frame the largest
amount of vital energy. Now, good health, as we all know, is an impor-
tant accession to the other means of human happiness. The force of this
truth will be yet more evident, when we look at the condition and position
of the ungodly man. Has he anything upon which he can rely, to curb
those fierce passions which bum in his breast, and more or less ia the
breast of every man ? Experience has shown to the world that nothing
but Divine grace can efficiently do this. Numbers who have loudly
vaunted of their strength, have been overcome by strong temptations and
fallen into vice, sensuality, and wretchedness. It might be thought that no
rational being could be so presumptuous as to assert, that his own strength
was sufficient to preserve him from indulging his passions to excess ? Bat
let us look abrojwi on society, and what do we find 1 We find thousands
bringing upon themselves ruin and misery by yielding to their appetites.
Take the mdulgence of one vice alone— that of Intemperance, Sixty
thousand British subjects drop annually into a drunkard's grave. This, it
must not he forgotten, is only the number actually slain. How many more
wade through fife tormented by physical evils, brought upon them by this
indulgence.

It is not necessary that we should enumerate other vices by which num-
bers have had bitterly "to remember the sins of their youth." Before
leaving this part of the subject, however, we would remind the reader of
the admitted fact, namely, that a very large proportion of the physical
diseases under which man suffers, are brought upon him by his own mis-
conduct. Let the thoughtful examine this more minutely for themselves,
and the value of godliness in promoting our physical well-being, will
appear with as much force of evidence, as any demonstration in mathe-
matics.
• Sunderland. A Layman.

BIOGRAPHY.

ELIZABETH GREENWOOD, NEWTON-MOOR, CHESHIRE.

Our departed Sister was horn at Stockport, Cheshire, April 12th, 1825,
of parents in humble life, who saw the importance of sending their chil-
dren to a Sabbath-school to be instructed for time and eternity. In the
year 1838 they came to reside in Newton, and soon after their arrival
Elizabeth was taken by her mother to the Hall-bottom Sunday-school, where
she remained until she became a teacher, but being destitute of religion
she was tlie more easily drawn away fi^om the school, bat doubtless impres-
sions were then made upon her mind that could not be erased, though for
some years she forsook the house of God. It was during that period of her
life that she entered into the marriage state. The Spirit of God constantly
followed her, bringing to remembrance what she had learned at the Sabbath-
school, hence she would often speak to her husband of their neglected duty
of prayer before going to rest, and what an awful thing it would be if not
permitted to see the light of day. Such convictions as these, we hesitate not
to say, led her feet into the path of the just, and to the courts of God's
house. This occurred in the year 1852. It was there she became fully
awakened to her dangerous state as a sinner. I recollect her staying at the
prayer-meeting after preaching, when she manifested great concern for her
own salvation, and that of her husband. She met in class a few weeks with-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Elizabeth Crreenwood, Newton- Moor. 117

ont enjoying a clear sense of her acceptance 'with God, yet determined to seek
until she found the Lord, notwithstanding the taunts and jeers she had to
CDcounter. Having hecome a recipient of the grace of God, she felt anxious
that her partner should he made a partaker of the like precious faith.
Prompted by this solicitude she requested one of the brethren to see him
about going to school, and on the importance of giving his heart to Gk)d.
Her request was complied with, and he kindly consented. Thus far her
desires were accomplished. She also succeeded in getting him to the
preaching of the word of God, under which he became alarmed of his
danger. At the prayer-meeting sinners were invited to the penitent's form ;
the^ acceded to the invitation, and there you misht see them taking up
theur cross, and publican-like, crying, God be merciful to me a sinner ! They
were encouraged to look to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of
the world. They believed the report given, and by faith in the Atonement,
their captive spirits were set at liberty. Feeling that they had peace with
God through Jesus Christ, like the eunuch they went on their way re-
joicing.

Her life was such as became a follower of the Lamb, adorning the doc-
trine of her Saviour, giving indubitable evidence of the reality of that reli-
gion of which she had become such a happy subject. Her attendance on
the means of grace was worthy of imitation ; no trifling circumstance pre-
vented her from repairing to God's house of prayer. At the prayer-meeting
her voice was often heard pleading for sinners, often directing the weeping
penitent to Jesus ; and in the class-meeting, says her leader, the whole of the
class has been deeply affected by her earnest supplications. The language of
her heart expressed by prayer was, " Wash me, but not my feet alone —
my hands, my head, my heart." Her experience was honest and simple,
feeling her own weakness she trusted in the power of Christ ; like many
more Christians her path was intercepted by clouds of darkness. She felt
sometimes afraid lest she should not reach the blessed shore, but often ex-
pressed during her sickness what her leader told her, that God would give
her grace according to her day. She possessed a kind and sympathising
spirit for suffering humanity, her liberal heart often devised liberal means.
She had a delicate constitution, and the least agitation caused her many
times to suffer very acutely. Many indeed were her sufferings, they were
at times indescribable ; like Job, she passed many wearisome nights and
troublesome days. Beligion does not exempt the Christian from sickness
and death, yet it is the staff that supports them under all their troubles ;
very soon some tempestuous wave of sickness will shatter these frail barks
of ours, yet if our peace with God be made, he will say to us as Christ said
to his disciples when on the sea, " It is I, be not afraid." Many times our
sister thought her sickness would be unto death, soon the silver cord was to
be loosed, the golden bowl broken. At times she felt as though she could
not give her husband and the family up, but God gave her grace to do so, and
she submitted herself to the will of God. One night her sufferings were so
intense that she exclaimed^ "AVhat ever must I do!" Her husband very
affectionately said, "Try to exercise a little patience." She immediately
began singing, " To patient faith the prize is sure," &c. One of the leaders
asked her the state of her mind, and in reply, she said, " I have found great
relief in being able to give all up, I am not afraid to die," but added, *•' If
it be God's will. He could raise me up again."

Through the weakness of the body her mind would at times ramble, yet
as an evidence of her being in the liands of God, she was preserved from
uttering any rash expressions. A few days before her decease she was quite
sensible. Calling one of her brothers to her, she wished him to promise to
Ro to chapel, saying, it was hard to suffer the pains of the body with re-
ligion, but what would it bo without. Often did she try to sing, ** Jesu,
lover of my soul," &c.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

118 Biography of Mr. Wtttiam Evans.

After sleeping some time, she enquired, what day it was ? When told it
was Tuesday, she replied, it was class-night. One of the friends infonned
her that they were holding a fellowship-meeting, she said, " Oh, I should
like to be there. I could tell them something." At another time, awaken-
ing from sleep,'she called her mother, and grasping her hand, exclaimed,
^ Mother, I am saved ! I am saved ! — I do believe ! I do believe !" She
appeared to have caught a glimpse of the glory which she expected very
shortly to be still more abundantly revealed in her. Hence the sight of
the King in his beauty, and of the land not now afar off, made her exclaim,
" Beautiful ! beautiful !"

Our departed sister told her mother, she had seen her father and sister,
and that Jesus would come for her that night. Her bodily strength declining,
she was unable to speak ; but while passing through the cold valley of dea^,
she appeared by the moving of her lips to be praising QtoA, very feebly
breathing the words of the Psalmist, " Bless the I^rd, O my soul,*' to which
she repeatedly added, ** Amen, amen !'*

Her end was come ; about half-past eleven o*clock, on the 8th of October,
1856, she entered upon the rest that remaineth for the people of God.
*< Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord."

Isaac Stainthorp.

MR. WILLIAM EVANS.

Mr. William Evans, was bom in the year 1777, in the parish of Tolly-
Uyn, North Wales. He was deprived eai'ly of his parents, so he was not
favoured with much education. He spent the early part of his life in for-

fetfulness of his latter end. He enlisted in the army, and during his service,
e was appointed one of the guard over Napoleon Bonaparte at St. Helena,
he being a man of very sober habits. During his stay there, he saved a good
sum of money. After his discharge he returned to Wales and commenced
business, in which he remained for several years. Asa man of businesis he
was frank, and very just in all his dealings; his word was always readily
believed by all that knew him — it was always one price, no abatement.

He was brought to the knowledge of the truth under the preaching of the
Wesleyan Methodists, and he evinced his firm belief of the same during his
after-life ; he was a member for many years of their community. When the
Missionaries of the Association commenced to labour in that part of Wales,
he was one of the first that received them, his house was a home for them
after their long travels, and through their instrumentality he was led to
reflect upon his own state, and by the light which shone into his soul, he
immediately perceived that he had hitherto lived a stranger to experimental
religion, though he had been strictly moral.

About two years previous to his death he retired from business, and came
to live in the town of Aberystwith so as to be convenient to our chapel
there ; his dear wife died about the time he left off business, and he had
sore afflictions on account of her removal, — death often cuts asunder the
most tender ties, of near and dear relations. During his stay in the town,
he went about doing good, exhorted young and old to live to the Lord. He
was a most lively Christian, he always enjoyed very good health, and a
vigorous mind, and he possessed a clear view of our doctrmes. Often had he
to attack those of the high Calvinists — there are many of them in South
Wales — he was mighty in Scripture, and the Lord enabled him to defend
the truth wonderfully. The Cross of Christ was his theme wherever he
went. He was strong in faith, waiting for the coming of the Lord, who raised
him very high out of the pit of corruption ; he set his feet upon the Bock

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr. John Boothman, of Clitheroe, 1 19

of Ages, and established his goings — the enemy was not permitted to distress
hiB soul, nor did anj fears beset him, vihen he was even aware of the near
approach of death. The last Sabbath he lived, he was at chapel as nsnal,
and at the close of the service he met me as I came down from the pulpit,
and said, ** I wish this had been our sacrament Sunday." I told him that it
would be the next Sunday. To this he answered with a smile, that he
would be in heaven before that time. I could but look at his patriarchal
countenance, and say, " I hope that you will not leave us so soon ;" and
then we parted. The next morning I called at his house, and found
him as usual, speaking about the goodness of Ood. I asked him would he
wish me to give him the sacrament P he said, " Oh, yes — what a place it
was !" I had to leave town to go to some appointments at Towyn, 14 miles
oft*. He asked me, when I would return. I told him on Thursday. He
replied, that he should be in heaven before that ; and he added, that he
would die early on Wednesday morning, and so he did. He said that he
had a full assurance of being with his lovely Jesus, so we parted.

On Tuesday evening he sent for the undertaker to order his coffin (what
-we call in Welch, his Ark) ; he said, that Christ was the ark for his soul,
and that he wished htm to make one for his frail body. He told him to
send a plank that night, to save them from being disturl)ed in the morning,
80 as. to lay his body on. The plank was placed at the foot of his bed
to be ready. He spent most of the night praising God and the Lamb,
and in the morning according to his own words, he entered into his rest,
July 6th, 18«5, aged 78 years, and was interred at Aberystwith new
churchyard, on the 8th of that month.

The time was come for him to rest,

Beneath the peaceful clod ;
And happier still the time more blest.

For him to dwell with God.

0. GiaFFiTHS, Mtssionary.

MR. JOHN BOOTHMAN, OF CLITHEROE.

John Boothman wan bom at "Waddington, near Clitheroe, in the je&t
1782. Like most boys he was fond of recreation, and especially so of
sliding on the ice. When about fourteen years of age, one Sabbath-day,
-while in company with some other boys sliding, out of mere love of mis-
chief and fun he tripped one of them with his foot, who unhappily fell
and dislocated his neck, fortunately there was a man near who understood
what was the matter, and the boy*s neck was soon set right. This circum-
stance made a deep impression on John's mind.

He began to attend the Wesleyan Chapel at Bradford, near his native
village. His diligence and serious attention attracted the notice of a
Lieader, named Critchley, of that place, who took him by the hand and
invited him to class. He continued diligently to attend all the means of
grace, and commenced in earnest to seek for the salvation of his soul.
He was not long before he obtained redemption in the blood of Christ, the
forgiveness of all his sins. Having found peace with God through our
Xiord Jesus Christ, he commenced a new life, and laboured with all his
powers to promote the extension of Christ's kingdom in the salvation of
others. He and his friend Critchley commenced a Sunday-school at Wad-
dington, his native village, and were making good progress when a cir-
cumstance transpired to blight their prospects for a season. One Sabbath-
day, when John and his colleague were returning from Bradford Chapel,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

120 Biography of Mr. John Boothman, of Cliiheroe.

thej came in contact with somo young men who were playing at football
in a field. They remonstrated with them on the sin of breaking the
Sabbath, and took the ball from them. One of the party told his father
of the loss they had sustained, and the lecture they had received. The
father having some influence over the person owning the building vhere
the school was held, succeeded in his endeavour to turn them adrift. No-
thing daunted, they took another place in the same village, and were even
more successful than in the former one. This was the commencement of
Wesleyan Methodism in Waddington, a neat little chapel was shortly after
built, and the society continues to the present time.

In the year 1802, our late brother married Martha Bateson, a steady and
respectable young woman, who resided in the same neighbourhood. Soon
after their marriage, they removed to Bashall Eaves, about four miles from
Waddington, still they continued to attend Bradford Chapel, a distance of
five miles, in all weathers, frequently carrying each a child in the arms.
At that time there was no chapel in Bashall Eaves and only one member.

In the year 1806, he was put on the plan as a Local preacher in the Wes-
leyan Body, and preached his first sermon in the old Parish school at
Bashall Eaves ; he laboured earnestly and faithfully, and took an active
part in procuring funds for, and superintending the erection of a neat little
chapel, built in 1816, which is still occupied by the Wesleyan Methodists
in the Clitheroe Circuit. At this time Clitheroe, Bradford, Bashall Eaves,
were in the Skipton Circuit, and our departed brother was often the re-
presentative of these places to the quarter-day at Skipton, a distance of
nineteen miles, where he also frequently preached. He was always a
willing labourer in the Lord's vineyard, and thought but little of travelling
twenty miles, and preaching twice on the Lord's-day. His house was a
home for the preachers. He entertained Sammy Hick, the village black-
smith, and others of the venerable dead, whose praise are in all the churches.
He frequently preached at Slaidburn, a distance of ten miles from his home,
and his labours there have been greatly blessed. At that time there was
no chapel in this place. They preached in a house. On one occasion he
invited the church-singers to come and sing for him, (there being no sei*vice
at the church in the afternoon), they kindly consented to go, and were
so pleased that they went again in the evening; and the Lord found a
way to the heart of the leading singer, Mr. J. Fletcher, who joined the
Society. By the united exertions of Isabella Spencer, J. Fletcher, and
otJiers, a neat little chapel was built there.

Our deceased brother was much attached to this place, and frequently
visited it, returning home through those rugged mountains at twelve or one
o'clock in the morning. On one of these occasions, he preached from the
text, ** God so loved the world, &c.," when one of the most notorious
drunkards, a cockfighter, &c,, of the village, was pricked to the heart ; and
was led to cry out, " God be merciful to me, a sinner." His name was John
Wilkinson. This man found peace with God, and continued to adorn the
doctrine of Christ his Saviour to the end of his life. There are many
other instances equally striking of the success of his preaching which can-
not be brought into so short a compass as the present sketch.

When the Wesleyan Methodist Association was formed in Clitheroe,
in the year 1835, he was among its earliest friends, and was warmly
attached to its principles to the last. He laboured earnestly for the estab-
lishment of his new home, and attended many meetings which had for their
object, an explanation of the cause of separation from the Conference
Methodists, and the full explanation of the principles of the Association.
He was the second Local preacher on the first plan of the Association in
Clitheroe, and as God gave him health, he was punctual in attending all his
preaching appointments; indeed his attention to them was proverbial

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography cf Mr. John Boothman^ of ClUheroe. 121

among his friends. When asked by one of his young friends how it was
that he never missed an appointment, he related a circumstance which
transpired towards the commencement of his ministry. " He was appointed
to preach at one of the country places in the Circuit, on the Sunday after-
noon. His mind became deeply impressed with the responsibility of the
office he was called upon to fuliif, and his inability to meet its duties aright.
With this impression, " Jonah like, he turned aside into a stone quarry,
and there he spent the afternoon in prayer ; but such was the anguish of
his mind while there, under a consciousness of neglected duty, he made a
vow to the Lord, that if he would continue his sparing mercy towards him,
he woald in future attend his appointments while health and strength
would permit." On this account he could not be persuaded by his wife or
family to neglect an appointment, however distant the place or unfavourable
the day.

He was much attached to his younger brethren in the ministry, and took
every opportunity to encourage them in the good work, and to be sure to
keep close to the Bible and the Saviour. He was a diligent attendant upon
all the means of grace, and was not backward in taking part in the same.
He took every opportunity to say something for the Lord. His favourite
public means of grace was the love-feast, at which he always spoke under
an overwhelming sense of the goodness of God, often moving him to tears,
accompanied by a hallowing influence, which difi^sed itself over the whole
assembly. In all the means of grace he especially enjoyed the devotional
part, he frequently said he could sing his life away, for it was like heaven
on earth begun. He was always in season for good things, especially
favourable to open-air preaching in the summer season, and to cottago
precuihing in the winter. He was diligent in visiting the sick and afflicted,
no matter what was the nature of the disease, where duty called he would
obey.

During the time when cholera made such fearful ravages in Clithcroe, in
the year 1849, he attended the funeral of several parties, and performed
the funeral rites, when other ministers objected on account of the infectious
nature of the disease. When remonstrated with by his family on the
danger of infection, he replied, " My trust is in God, with whom are the
issues of life and death ; nothing shall harm you, if you be followers of that
which is good."

In the fall of the year 1864, he was taken suddenly ill, while on a visit
to Wood End (formerly on the plan), a place about eleven miles from his
home ; and so severe was the attack, that for a time his life was despaired
of. Medical aid was called, and in a short time favourable symptoms
appeared, and the following day he was removed home in a carriage. This
affliction so shattered his constitution that he never recovered his wonted
health and strength. From this time he was not able to take many
appointments upon the plan, but as long as he was able, he continued to
attend the means of grace.

In February last, he was obliged to give up his business ; and that
anvil, which for so many years had reverberated to the stroke of his hammer,
was no longer heard in the neighbourhood. From this period to the time
of his death, he was confined to his house. He had a presentiment that he
would die suddenly, and often mentioned this to his family and friends,
but said, I am ready for the change. A few nights before his death, he had
a beautiful dream of heaven, and was deeply impressed that the time of
his departure was at hand.

Several of his local brethren in the ministry visited him during his
affliction. One says, " the last time I visited him during his affliction, I
found him as I expected, like a shock of corn ready for the gamer of the
Lord, We held sweet counsel together, and had a blessed time in prayer.

K

Digitized by VjOOQlC

lii Biography (fMr. George froit^ t>f S&uA MokoH.

We Bhook bands, and wlio ean ezpreas the feelings experienced b^ the last
grasp of a djinr friend. With all his remaining strength he said, " Fare
well I ffo on I ru meet thee there.** Another of his felTow-labonrers says,
*^ 1 Tisited brother Boothman daring lus sickness, and in speaking to him
on the consolation which he derived from his long and &ithfiil services, and
from the reflection of his having been useful in winning sools to Ghrist, his
onW reply was. ' all glory to Christ, idl glory to Christ'^**

For two or tiire« days previooB to his death, he appeared and expressed
himself a little better in health* On the 4th Jonei he shaved himself, and
was conversing wiUi a friend at his own door near eight o'clock in the
evening. Soon after he retired to rest as nsnal, and fell asleep. About four
o*clock in the morning, he convwsed with his wife about one of the family^
and soon afterwards roll asleep again, to wake no more in this life. About
eight o*clock, his danghter tooK up the breakfast to his room, his wife tried
to wake him, but found, to their deep sorrow, that the spirit had fled to
the realms of the blest, in the seventy-fifth year of his age, and the six-
tieth of his membership with the ** Church of Christ,' fifty years of which
he wa9 an accredited Local preacher and Class-leader in the Wesleyan
Methodist and Wesleyan Methodist Association Societies, and twenty years
a consistent member of the Temperance Society. And now his work is
done ; he has entered into resK ^ Blessed are the dead that die in the
tiord, from hencefortii ; for they rest from their labour, and their works do
follow them.

His remains were Inbrred in the tillage churbhyltfd, Wad^gton,oh
the 10th of June, 1856.

His death was improved to a crowded congregation m Moor-luie Chapel,
ditheroe^ on Sunday evening, November 16, by the Bev. B. S. Barton, from
Glasgow, from Rev. xiv. 13.

Wm. Baetlb.

BlOGllAPHY OF MB. GEORGB FROST, OF BOUTH-MOLTOir.

Mm Gnoiujft Fros*, the tubject of this memoir, was bom hi South-
Molton, in the county of Devon, November 22, 1782, but not being blessed
with a reli^^ouB training he spent his youthful days in sin and folly. Be
was thoughtless and careless alraut his precious soul ; he loved the gaieties
and einfiu pleasures of the present world ; "^ the god of this world had
blinded his niind, lest the light of the glorious Gospel of the blessed God,
which is the image of Christ, should shine into him." In this deplorable
state he continued until his twenty-fifth year, whi^ at Calhngton, he wM
induced to attend the ministry of the Wesleyan Methodiste, and after
some time he was convinced of his fallen and undone oondition) through
sin, and was led to seek the mercy and forgiveness of Almidhty God)
through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. That mercy, it is believed, he
obtained through faith in Christy and havihg found advantage in the society
of God's people, he joined himself to the Methodist body. This took place
in the year 1611 ; he continued a meml)er with that d^iomination until
the year 1836. That was a memorable period in the history of Methodism.
In the year 18d5, the Oonference passed a law which depriv^ the people
of ail their liberty of any importance in reference to Church Oovernmebt)
and gave to the travelling preachers the sole power to kgiriate and rule in
the Wesleyan body. Brother Frost prote^^ed against this ad aki infringe-
ment on the crown t\^i» of the LoM Jesus, and as robbing the Chnroh of
one of her greatest pnvil^es, namely, that of self-government ; he thought
that the members of the &urch, either individually or in their represen-
tative character, should have a voice in the framing of all laws atfectiug

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr. Oeorge Frosty of South MoUon. 123

the liberty of its members. And beeause this right was denied him in the
Old body, he left it to find a home in the bosom of a Church whose laws
are liberal, and whose principles are in accordance with the teaching of the
New Testament. Oar late orother remained aloof from any church for
some oansiderable time after leaving the Confbrence body, but when the
Association was formed in Bodmin, he joined himself to that people, and
continued a member of our Church until his death.

On the 26th of Aagust, 1842, his name was entered on our church book
for the first time, and while health permitted, he was very useful among
us. He held several important offices m the Church, namely, prayer-leader,
society steward, chapel steward, &o., &c« As a man of business, he was to
be depended on for being regular and punotuali with regard to his moral
character, he was irreproachable. In the Churth he was an admirer of
decorum; his motto was "let all things be done decently and in order."
He lored the ordinances of God's house, and was always found, when able,
both at the public and private means of grace. He regardea with great
affection and veneration the ministers of the Gospel, and ^ esteemed tnem
very highly in lore fbr their work's sake." He was a liberal supporter both
of our Olreuit and Connexional fands. He took a deep interest in our
cause in Bodmin, and would be often inquiring how we were getting on,
and was always pleased when any progress could be reported,— in short, he
was a true Mend of the Wesleyan Association, and the cause of Christ
generally. He was no bigot, but loved all who loved the Lord Jesus in
sincerity ; ^ but the time drew nigh when Israel must die."

Our dear brother, for some considerable period befor e his death, was the
subject of very great bodily weakness and suffering, but he was enabled to
trast in Jesus. He said to the writer, some little time before his decease,
"My hope is in the Lord Jesus, I have nothing else to trust in.*'

The oiay on which he died, he appeared just as he had been for some
time. It was but a few hours before he expired that he said to his
daughter, that his trust was in Christ, and there was no other foundation
for the sinner to trust in but the atoning blood of Christ : with him it was
"Jesus, the first and the last." Little did his daughter think, when he
spoke these words to her, that he would so soon pass away $ but, alas t the
silver cord was quickly loosed, and the golden bowl was broken, and the
spirit returned to God who gave it. Our gracious God was pleased to deal
very gently with our dear brother in his expiring moments. He died in
his daughter's arms, almost without a groan, on the 17th of November 1866,
after having sojourned in this lower world for near seventy-one years, and
after having served God for the long space of forty-five years.

One gentle sigh his fetters broke,

We scarce could say he's gone,
Before his ransom'd spirit took

Her mansion near the throne.

F^ith strives, but all its efforts ftil

To trace her in her flight,
No eye can pieroe within the veil

Which hides that world of light

Thus much, and this is all we know,

They are completely blessed,
Havc done with sin, and care, and woe,

And with their Saviour rest.

On Sunday, December 21st, the death of our esteemed friend was
improved in Bodmin Chapel, to a deeply interested congregation, by the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

124 Congregational Singing,

Bev. J. W. Gilchrist, from the following words of our Divine Eedeemer,
" Let not your heart be troubled j ye believe in God, believe also in me.
In my. Father's house are many mansions, if it were not so I would have
told you ; I go to prepare a place for you. John xiv. 1, 2.
JBodmin, December 22, 1856. J. Hatdok.

CONGREGATIONAL SINGING.

Sib,-- Will you permit me to call the attention of your readers to the
subject of Congregational Singing, which, considering the important part
it is intended to sustain in our public services, seems entitled to a little
more cultivation and study, than are usually bestowed upon it.

Is it not a matter calling for inquiry, and at the same time for regret,
that after the lapse of more than eighteen centuries, from the time when
the Christian Church introduced the singing of hymns into its service, we
are now found performing this duty in so imperfect a manner, as yet to be
dependent upon choirs and instruments. Tney are at best but necessarr
evils, and I believe the day is not far distant when they will be abolished,
and when the voices of whole congregations will be heard in such simple
solemn, devotional strains, as are alone suited to give expression to our
hymns of praise and prayer. Where the necessity for this reform is ac-
knowledged, and the desire to effect it is felt, the object can be attained
without doubt, and by very simple means. What has already been accom-
plished throughout this country by such teachers as the Rev, J. J. Waite,
and those who are following the simple, straightforward method of his
teaching, is sufficient evidence of this. The more immediate object of
these remarks, however, has reference rather to the character of the music
that is suited to the purposes of public worship, than to the manner of
its performance.

Before we can have universal congregational singing in all its simplicity,
solemnity, and grandeur, we must undo the mischief that has been perpe-
trated by the depraved and vitiated taste of modem times. Swarms of
modem amateur composers have crammed our Methodist tune-books in
every direction, with all sorts of heterogeneous stuff, and have also brought
upon metrical psalmody the contempt of persons of good taste. They
have aimed at producing such music as would strike, dazzle, and amuse,
hence the nonsensical, capering melodies we frequently hear, bearing such
names as Ebenezer, Knaresborough, Lonsdale, Mount Zion, Musicians, and
all the tanes of such composers as Leach, Stanley, Fawcett, &c. Tunes of
a lax, vulgar, secular character, abounding in repetitions, solo passages and
ornaments, turns and jerks.* All such compositions are most unfit for the
purposes of sacred worship ; they are completely at variance with the proper
expression of a spirit of devotion, and moreover extremely offensive to
every person of a cultivated taste. Notwithstanding the hundreds, almost
thousands (for they seem inexhaustible) of these tunes, which have
appeared from time to time, they have none of them obtained a permanence.
They burst upon us by fits and starts, and after a brief but noisy existence
they die away ; our choirs soon sicken of them, only, however, to perpe-
tuate the mischief, by introducing more of the same class. Under these
circumstances is it a matter of surprise, that all the members of our con-
gregations are not found joining in the singing, and of those who do engage
in it — how few can understand the harmony ? The males are compelled to
sing the treble, or each extemporise his own bass, the result of which most
probably is, that no two in a whole congregation sing alike. We are con-
* Our readers vrill judge for themselves as to the justice of these allegations.^^if.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

A Doorkeeper in the House of the Lord, 125

fused with the multitude of tunes, many of which are so intricate and
anintelligible, that the people cannot learn them ; of so extensive a com-
pass, that the voices cannot reach them, and constructed in such a manner
as to withdraw the attention from the spirit and meaning of the words, and
centre it in the music. Others, in which the repetitions are of such a
nature as to interfere seriously with the sense of the words, and often
render them unmeaning, sometimes ridiculous.

A comparison of the music of the early reformed churches, both in this
country and on the continent, with that of modem times, will be by no
means favourable to us, referring more particularly to psalmody and hymn-
ody, as it forms almost exclusively the music of this branch of the Wes-
leyan Church. The essentials of good and suitable music for the service,
are as follows, viz., the melody should be simple, and slow, the harmony
full and plain, and the whole of a solid and ecclesiastical character, totally
free from a mixture of levity, perfectly distinct from everything of a
secular character, essentially and exclusively church music. Of such a
description are the Lutheran, the German, and the Italian chorales, toge-
ther with the works of such English composers, as Tallis, Dr. Tye, Eavens-
croft, Orlando Gibbons, &c. The fine stout old Lutheran tunes, have pre-
served all their vigour and freshness for upwards of three hundred years,
and stand out in bold contrast to the maudlin compositions of a later and
degenerate age, though all modem composers are not to be included in
these remarks.

Dr. Jebb, speaking of Tallis, says, and the remark might be applied with
almost equal propriety to the other composers already named, " The study
of Tallis as a correct, grave, and religious harmonist, is essential to any
real progress in the knowledge of sacred music : and nothing has tended
more to debase the art amongst us, than the neglect of such studies, and
the substitution of the showy, but thin and imperfect harmonies of modern
composers, and the exaggerated and eflfeminate melodies, that rather express
the morbid sentiment of religious excitement, than the deep-seated energy
of a calm but influential devotion of the understanding and of the heart."

Another authority upon this subject is Dr. Crotch. In his lectures on
church music, Dr. Crotch says, "The psalms used and composed by the
Reformers, usually called the Old Hundredth, the Old Thirty-eighth, &c.,
and those by their, immediate successors in this kingdom, together with
those made in imitation of these pure, sacred strains, are alone worthy of
study ; and these should be played simply, and with such harmonies as are
of a suitable style ; while all the Magdalen and Foimdling hymns, with
psalms made out of songs, glees, and quartetts, in drawling, whining,
minuet-like strains, with two or three notes to each syllable, full of modern
or chromatic discords, with interludes, symphonies, introductions, shakes,
flourishes, cadences, appogiaturas, and other unseemly displays of the
oiganiatic finger or fancy, should be denounced and utterly abolished."

And must we then have no new church music ? Yes, but no new style,
nothing which recommends itself, ow7y, by its novelty, or reminds us of
what we hear at the parade, the concert, and the theatre. Much new music
maybe produced in the sacred style, though to equal what has already been
produced, will not be found so easy as may perhaps at first be imagined.

Feh. mh, 1857.

A DOOEKEEPER IN THE HOUSE OF THE LORD.

A few days since, it was determined by the Trustees, that to meet the
demands for increased accommodation, provided the debt on our Chapel at
Penzance was not increased, galleries should be erected, and the other

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

126 Review and Criticism,

Qvonin^, at the close of the prayer-meetinff in the vestry, a few yet
rexnaminff, a little conversation ensued upon the subject of contrlbutionB in
aid of the object, when two brethren (journeymen mechanics) whose
weekly wages somewhat differed, stated their mtentions. One said ho
would give a ffuinea, the other would contribute half a guinea, when
suddenly a tnuy poor man, obtaining a livelihood for himself and family
by the most slender and precarious means, bent over and said, ''I'll give a
sovereign myself." He was the door-keeper. All present loiew this un-
solicited but earnest offer to be at the instance of sacrifice, and the incident
suitably impressed us. But the poor man had seen an amiableness in the
tabernacles of the Lord of Hostr^ and could say, ^ I had rather be a door-
keeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tent of wickedneaa**
Pemance, Wk. Hutrt Kosd.

EEVIEW AND CRITICISM.

Elemente of Mental and Moral Scienee. By tho Bev. Geo. Fatme,
L.L.D. London : Johk Skow, Paternoster-row.

No. I. Meittal Scixnob.

This is a new edition of an able work in the department of Meta-
physics. This term, now of such general use, — often much abused—
seems to have been originally employed by Andronicus of Rhodes,
when the manuscripts of Aj'istotle were brought by Sylla from
Athens to Rome, simply to designate those of the philosopher'i
works, which, in arrangement came after the Physics. There does
not appear to have been any intention of giving it a technical use.
But it soon was so used, and for a number of ages with more
laxness of meaning tiian most of technical terms. It has been
used, to denote the scienoe which treats of tho nature, essence,
and qualities or attributes of being-^the science which treats of
the nature and laws of matter and of motion-— as well as that which
treats of the powers of man, and the motions by which theorists
have supposed life to be produced. But more recently, as an
able writer in the Encyclopedia Britannica observes, it has been
used to denote the doctrine of nUnd. The natural division of things
that oxist, is into body and mind^ things material and immaterud*
The former belong to Physics, the latter to the science of Mbta*
PHYSICS, The work before us treats on that department of Metaphysics,
to which Dr. Campbell and some other philosophers, both Scotch and
English, have recently applied the term. Psychology,

The study of mind is one of the most ancient of human pursuits.
The Greeks, before the dawn of British history, and while all the
tribes of Western Europe were in a state of barbarism, devoted them-
selves to the prosecution of inquiries into the nature of the Mind,
and a variety of cognate subjects. The bias of their understanding,
was decidedly in the direction of abstract inquiries. Plato, the great
teacher of classical antiquity, seems to have regarded abstract truths
as the only objects worthy of the philosopher's attention. He recom-
mended tne study of the properties of numbers, as habituatbg the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Review and Criticism' }27

mind '' to the oontetnplation of pure truth, and as raising it above the
material universe/' He recommended pure Mathematics as a subject of
study for the same reason; while Archimedes, whose genius enabled
bim to construct those famous engines of antiquity, which projected
huge stones against the Romans, and guided ixixn to the invention of
those burning Glasses by which their fleet was destroyed under
Marcellus, at the seige of Syracuse, ^Impst apologises for this com-
paratively useless diversion, i^s he regarded it, frpm fhose abstract
studies to which bis life w^^ devoted.

Plato ^nd Aristotle, though not ipuch distinguished hj t^he discp-

very of new truth? in meptal spience, both contributed ^ijetaphj^sic^I

terms, which have been in vqgue for more than two thousand ye^rs.

Our word " idea " seems, according to Coleridge, to have been first

adopted by Plato as a technical term^ and as the antithesis tp ^he

Greek word for sensuous images, the transient apd perish^hle emblpm^

or mental words of ideas, The ideas, themselves, he regarded as

mysterious powers, living, semina), formative, and expn^pt from time.

In this sense the word became the property pf the Platpmc school, and

it seldom occurs in the writings of the Stagyrite, without some suph

phrase annexed to it, as " accordiujg to Plato," or " as Plato says."

The doctrine of the Schoplnjeu in explanation pf the meau5> by T^hich

the mind becomes aware of the existencp pf an e:^teru^l world^ wa^

borrowed from the disciples of Aristotle, who maintained that

external ol^ects emit 3pecies entirely reseu^bUng t'lfi^m, ^nd th^t

these species striking ou the senses, are by them transmitted to

tjie understanding. This piost absur4 thepry, which prevailed for

nearly two thousap4 years, met with itj? de^th-hlow at Jhe bands pf

the celebrate^ Thomas Hobbes of Malnie^bury. lYithout trpubliug

our readers with that philosopher's rej^ouings on the subject, y^e may

observe, that it WBB a fs^tal object;ipn to this theory that it required co».-

ditions in the humau siensorium, which ^p .cranium cpul4 possibly

supply. For iustjauce, when Barclay de Tolly beheld the invading

army of Napoleon for the first time, he was called upon hv this theory

to find ii> his cranium, not only quarters for the senmle m^g^s of

neaily haJf a milUpja of n?jen, but also gt^^-blerropin for thp sensible

images of forty-thousand horses. Again, when Nelsou first yijBw.ed at

Trafalgar tb^e junction flaejts of Fran.ce nx^ Sp*i»> and looked dpwn pp

the noble fi^uet of England of which he was Admiral, he w.^ re.quir.e.d

by thi^ th^eory to find sea-room in his brain for "tb,e sensible sp,ecie3 "

of all th4Siit was visible,— the men, the ships, ithe tackling of three fi^eets

of the thrive greatest maritime powers in the world* No wonde^ th^^ ^

theory lAvolviog ao m^nv absurd conditions; .should ultimately f^

under tibA successive shocJh( ?f^hicb it received frpm the bat^efin^ t^'^n^

of him^A experience and x>f com.mo^''^^^^* I^ ^^^ ^^7} thi^* 0^^^

Gvoooua theory is rega^rded as utterly unfounded in fact ^nd in nature.

A diwl^r &te has befa^le;u the Platonic doctrine of ideas. '^ The

term •"ide»" is aow aeldow or inever used by philpsophera JHcf^tg-

nicallt/. Even before Dr. Reid's time — ^who^ laurels were .chiefljr

WQU ia iiie conflict with ancieut not^jjus — the word idea was selijlom

jaed to deo^ an image in the mind sep^ra/^ jaAd distinct &<W ii^9

Digitized by VjOOQIC

128 Review and Criticism.

mind, but since the time of Dr. Brown, to whom Psychology is much
more indebted, than to any other philosopher since the time of Locke,
writers have generally regarded " an idea " as nothing more than the
mind affected in a certain manner^ or which is the same thing, the
mind existing in a certain state. The author before us adopts the
very words of Brown, when he states that " Our notions, thoughts,
and ideas, are nothing more than different states of the mind itself/'—
so that now the common opinion of mental philosophers is equally
against the ancient Platonic notion of ideas and the Peripatetic doc-
trine of sensible species, which from the time of Descartes to a com-
paratively recent date, had assumed the name of " ideas," and were
regarded as distinct objects interposed between the mind and out-
ward objects.

Dr. Payne's refutation of the ancient theory of Perception, is
signally successful. But^ on one point, he alleges an incompleteness
against the theory, to which we think it not justly liable. We allude
to his first argument, which proceeds on the assumption that the
doctrine of sensible species, as taught first by the Peripatetics and
afterwards by the Schoolmen, includes only such sensible images as
may impress the mind through the organ of vision. In this view he
represents the theory as implying in relation to many objects of per-
ception, a manifest absurdity. " If vision had been our only sense,
we might, perhaps, have understood, at least, what was meant by the
species that directly produce our visual images. But what is the
phantasm of a sound or an odour f " The Doctor evidently wishes
to convey the idea that the doctrine of the Schoolmen made no pro-
vision among its sensible species for impressions of the latter class.
In this, we regard him as at fault, and think his error the more
remarkable, from Hobbes having stated the contrary in his attack on
the doctrine of the Schoolmen two centuries ago. Hobbes, in stating
the case, says, — " The Philosophy of the Schools through all the Uni-
versities of Christendom, grounded upon certain texts of Aristotle,
teaches that for the cause ofvision^ the thing seen sendeth forth on every
side a visible species, the receiving whereof into the eye is seeing. And
for the cause of hearing, there is an audible aspect, which entering at
the ear maketh the hearing. Nay, for the cause of understanding
also, they say the thing understood sendeth forth an intelligible
species, that is, an intelligible being seen, which coming into the
understanding, makes us understand." But, however, the theory
might account for the phenomena it was radically defective in its
principles ; indeed it violated two of the most important rules of
theorizing, which are — 1. That the principles employed in expla-
nation should be known really to exist. And 2. That those principles
should be known to produce all the effects attributed to them in theory.
Tried by these tests, the Peripatetic theory of perception was thoroughly
worthless, for first of all, its principles were not known to exist,
and if they were, they were not known to produce stich effects as
the School-men ascribed to them.

But while modern philosophers have given an almost unanimous
decision against the doctrine of ^< ideas *\ propounded by the ancients,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Review and Criticism. 129

it has been very different with respect to another of the controversies
of former times. The Schoolmen of the thirteenth century originated
a controversy relating to the use of general terms, which has remained
unsettled to the present day. This, unlike many of the topics mooted
by these men of the cloister for the mere display of dialectic skill,
really involves matters of the utmost importance to the cause of
Knowledge, in every department. It involves neither more nor less
than the inquiry whether the human mind be capable of forming
such general ideas as are supposed to be expressed by general terms?
and that other cognate question, as to whether general terms express
aught besides a number of particular perceptions ? Such were the
questions, at issue, between the Nominalists and the Realists: and
such the interests involved in their fiery debates. They were found
unsettled at the dawn of modern learning, and have remained subjects
of debate, even, since the father of the Inductive Sciences commu-
nicated such a*'mighty impulse to all kinds of Knowledge; — Hobbes,
Berkeley, and Hume, standing on one side, while Descartes, Locke,
Reid, and Kant, are ranged on the other. The first named phi-
losophers declared for the Nominalists, while the latter, with some
qualification, gave their decision on the side of the Realists.

Dr. Brown, since the time of these distinguished men, has done
something to place the doctrine of the Realists on a foundation, from
which it will not easily be shaken. He shows that the general term
stands for certain real relations that subsist between the various
individuals in a class. Thus, we may take a number of animated
creatures, which differ fi:om one another in colour, in size, and in
strength, but agree in being four-footed. Well, to designate this
common relation the general term " Quadruped^* is used. Or to
vary the illustration, we find a class of beings in all parts of the
Globe, which, though they differ from us with respect to the com-
plexion of the skin, the formation of the head, and the character
of the hair, agree in having fingers and toes, an upright gait, and the
faculty of speech and of reason, and to designate this relation of re-
semblance, we use the general term " ManP Numberless other
illustrations might be taken, if it were necessary, from liquid sub-
stances and from elastic fluids. But these are sufficient for our
purpose. Dr. Payne has admirably followed up the reasoning of
Brown on this point, and shown that unless the reality of the re-
lation, in such cases, be conceded, we are chargeable not only with
coining words without necessity, but with having agreed with all man-
kind to use terms without any corresponding idea, which, since thought
must be supposed to precede speech, is much the same as to conceive
of an effect without a cause, or of a symbol without the thing signified.
And'further, that the extension of general terms to some objects only,
and not to all, implies some reason for this limitation, — some feeling of
the general agreement of the objects included in the class, to distinguish
them fi:om the objects not included in it, which is itself that very
"general notion" professedly denied. "We Aare," says Dr. Payne,
"it is admitted, general terms; now if these terms have no meaning,
where can be the impropriety of arranging, in the same class, and

Digitized by VjOOQIC

130 Emew and CrUicum,

designating by the same name, objects the most dissimilar in their
nature? What can there have been to prevent such a classifi-
cation ? Whj has it not been made f On what principle has all
classification proceeded ? How can a Nominalist defend one mode
and repudiate another ?" We are not aware of any aQswer that could
be offered to these inquiries except the hollow statement of Hobbiss,
that "Words are essential to general reasonings, and that without them
all our conclusions would be particular^ but that it is words that give
to our conclusions all their generality,^* An answer that strikes at the
very foundations of human knowledge and must therefore be pro-
nounced utterly worthless^ for of what value caa words be, or the
reasoning to which they are said to be essential, unless thev are to he
regarded as expressive of real relations ?-^unless they be tne symbols
of something instead of nothina at all ?

The sul^ect of Beauty has long engaged the attention of philoso-
phers, with the object of determining whether it be really, a quality
of external objects, or merely an emotion of the mind ? And if the
latter, how external objects are adapted to call it into manifesta-
tion?" On this point metaphysicians have been at issue:— some
maintaining that there are qualities, primarily existing, in certain
objects which are absolutely beautiful, and therefore adapted to call
forth the sense of beauty in all who observe them, much in the 3ame way
as the odoriferous particles of the rose give us the sense of fragrance-
while others, with equal spirit have maintained that beauty is an
emotion wholly dependent on the principle of association. The &rmer
opinion, was advocated by Mr. Payne Knight, and with some
modification by Dr. Brown ; the latter, with some little difference
of opinion among its advocates, by Macintosh, Alison and Jeffrey.
Macmtosh inclining towards the principle of association, has incidentally
observed in his Ethical Dissertation in relation to this matter,^—" that
the same properties 'which are admired as beautiful in the horse,
contribute also to his safety, and his speed ; and they who infer that
the admiration of beauty was originally founded on the convenience
of fieetness and firmness, if they, at the same time, hold that the use-
fulness is gradually effaced, and that the admiration of a certain shape
rises instantaneously without reference to any purpose, may with
perfect consistency regard a sense of beauty as an independent and
universal principle in human nature." Dr. Payne on this much
conti'overted question supports the theory which ascribes the emotion
of beauty to the associated feelings which certain objects are adapted
to awaken in the mind.

But if philosophers have been greatly at variance respecting tbe
source of our peculiar feelings, in relation to the Beautiful, they
have not been more agreed as to the origin of our sense of
the Sublime, Sublimity is regarded by Lord Kainies as consisting
in extreme elevation and bidk^ thus the Peak of Teneriffe and
the Alps are, according to his theory, sublime objects. I^i^rke,
on the other hand, makes terror to be the grand element of sub-
limity: "terror is in all cases, either openly or lat^tly, Ui« ruling
principle of the sublime." The theory of Helvctius bears an almost

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Review and Criticism, 131

ludicrous resemblance to that of Burke. Burke makes terror either
more openly or latently, to be the ruling principle of the sublime ;
Helvetius makes the ruling characteristic of Sublimity to be an emotion
of terror begun^ and maintains that it cannot be produced by any other
cause whatever. Knight ascribes it, as an effect to the influence
of mental energy in exciting a sympathetic energy in the mind of
the spectator or reader. Dr. Brown places it in the higher parts
of the scale of Beauty. This ingenious writer makes the emotions of
beauty and sublimity to glide into each other, in the same way as the
degrees of Heat in a Thermometrical scale. The philosopher's scale is
divided into three parts. First, the lower part, to which he confines
the emotion of Beauty in its various degrees of intensity. Second, the
middle, to which belong feelings which, he thinks, might properly be
designated the emotion of Grandeur. Third, the highest part, with
which, exclusively, he associates the emotion of Sublimity. Alison and
Jeffrey, as well as Dr. Payne in the volume before us, regard the
emotion, when excited by material objects as the result of Association,
and the last of these great names, agrees with Dr. Brown and Lord
Kaimes, in the opinion that the quality or property in the presence,
of which, the emotion of Sublimity rises, is VastnesSf which by the
principle of Associa,tion suggests the idea of Power and of Wisdom,
This is confessedly a most difficult question, but to Jeffrey, Alison, and
Payne attaches the merit, at least, of consistency. They apply the
same principle in the inquiry into the origin of the emotion of
Sublimity which we have mentioned, as having been adopted by them,
to account for the emotion of Beauty, Besides, they agree in re-
garding Sublimity and Beauty, not as a sensation but an emotion^
and we are not aware that any better explanation has ever been
offered, with respect either to the one or the other.*

We felt it necessary thus to dwell, at some length, on our Author's
treatment of two or three topics which have, so often, served as testing
points of a metaphysician's analytic power, but having done so, we
may proceed, at once, briefly to sketch the intellectual part of Dr.
Payne's philosophical system. In a few particulars, as our readers
have perceived, he is at variance with Dr. Brown, but in the main he
agrees with him, and his whole system, at least, so far as the intel*
lectual powers are concerned, is formed on the model of that of his
singularly keen and subtle predecessor.

The first part of "the Elements" treats of the object of Intel-
lectual Science and the mode in which our inquiries should be
conducted — the true nature of the powers and susceptibilities of the
mind— the manner in which our knowledge of the mental phenomena
is obtained, — the origin of the notion of Self— the identity of

* The writer ef the Article oa this subject, in the Penny Gyclopeedia, divides the
question concerning the Sablime into three parts, 'which he describes as the Material
Sublime, the Moral Sablime, and tbe Emotion of Sublimity. The first of these is the
BubUmi^of ear^ema^ Nature. The second, the sublimity of human actions and ideas.
The thiid, that ** feeUug in the mind which giyee to certain phenomena of nature or
deeds of man, the attribute of Sublimity." After thus distinguishing between the forms
of SubM^dty, he lays down his theory in very simple terms. " Speaking objectively,**
Mysbe **tibe exiting cause of SubUmity is wMtnees; spea1dng««ijec/toe7y, the emotion
fiicited is a sense of Insig&lficft&oe.*' The main bearings of the question are thus
presented in small compass.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

132 Review and Criticism.

the Thinking Principle, — and the analysis and arrangement of the
mental phenomena. The remaining portions of that division of the
work, which is devoted to the Philosophy of the human mind,
comprise an exposition of what may be called, Payne's Intellectual
System. He follows Dr. Brown in substituting "Suggestion" for
" Association," the term, by which certain mental laws were desig-
nated by Hume. He does not, however, attempt to reduce Hume's
laws of Association (resemblance, contrariety, causation, and con-
tiguity) to the single principle of contiguity as was done by Dr.
Brown, and for which the Doctor did not deserve all the credit
he claimed, inasmuch as the germ of the discovery, as he regarded
it, had been supplied by Aristotle more than two thousand years
ago — was exhibited with more clearness by Hobbes — and presented in
a blaze of light by Hartley and Condillac. He treats Simple Sug-
gestions as being subject to the three laws of Resemblance, Contrast,
and Contiguity. Conception, Memory, and Imagination are resolved
by Dr. Payne into Suggestion. The Doctor has also availed himself
of Brown's discovery of the secondary laws of Suggestion, under the
head of Conceptions of Relation, (the same as Dr. Brown's Relative
Suggestion) which Payne discriminates into the two Relations of Co-
existence and of Succession. The Emotions, he divides into three
classes, — the Immediate, the Retrospective, and the Prospective,
Under the first, he classes the Emotions of Beauty, Sublimity,
Surprise, Wonder, Astonishment, Love, Hatred, Sympathy, Pride,
Humility, and Moral Approbation and Disapprobation : under the
second. Anger, Gratitude, Regret, Gladness, Remorse, and Self-
approbation : under the third, the Desire of Continued Existence
— of Society — of Esteem — of love of others, and of Superiority.
He controverts Stewart's notion, that "Attention" is an original
power of the Mind, and traces the processes of Judging, Reasoning,
and Abstraction, to the relation of Co-existence.

Throughout the work, the Doctor evinces a thorough acquaintance
with those controversies which the spirit of Speculation has, in various
ages, stirred up in connection with this branch of science. Coleridge
was not more familiar with the German philosophers than Payne,
with all the great English authorities, on these questions. Nor does
he merely evince an intimate acquaintance with the history of
opinion. He has read the authorities with all the keenness of a
critic, with all the penetration of a philosopher, and with all the
care of a student, who prefers the truth to any number. of great
names or of well received notions. Hence, in Dr. Payne's work the
student will find nearly all the results of philosophic inquiry in this
department of science, combined with the reasons, why one view is
preferred to another. Less ornate than Brown's admirable Lectures,
" the Elements " before us, are quite equal to those wonderful pro-
ductions in earnest inquiry, calm reasoning, and severe analysis, —
qualities in a philosophical work, much to be preferred above mere
eloquence of statement or graces of style. We regard this profound
work as a most valuable contribution^to the Philosophy of the Human
Mind. It is just such a work as every student ought to read until

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Review and Criticism. 133

his mmd is permeated, so to speak, with its facts and its rea-
sonings.

Want of space admonishes us to laj down our pen for the present.
Bat we intend to return to this Work in our next issue, and to
famish our readers with a few observations on the Author's Outliues
of Moral Science.

Thoughts and Aphorisms on the Christian Life. Edited by the
Bey. JoHK Baillie. London : James Nisbet and Co., Berners-street.

While the celebrated Bunyan was laid in an English prison, think-
ing out his story of the " Pilgrim's Progress," there was/ another per-
sonage of kindred character pining on bread and water, in one of the
prisons of the Eomish Inquisition in Italy. That individual's name
was Molinos. Like Bunyan, he offended the ruling powers by the
eminently evangelical character of his notions on the. subject of reli-
gion, and like him, resolved to turn his imprisonment to some account
in the general interest of humanity. Though he was not up to
Banyan's mark, either in the originality of his genius or in the clear-
ness of his views, he was further ahead of his Romish countrymen
than Bunyan was in advance of hi* Protestant persecutors. Molinos'
work was on the subject of " the Christian Life," and has been re-
garded as an extraordinary work, considering the circumstances
under which it was produced. It was, indeed, disfigured here and
there by some traces of Romish superstition. The mind of the
author, as his Editor intimates, though raised from the grave of
superstition, was not freed from the grave-clothes in which he had
been bound. An individual was required, who should free his work
of certain blemishes by which it was disfigured. Now, that has been
done by Mr. Baillie in the present publication. " The Christian
Life " is now sent forth nearly free from the cerements which ori-
ginally covered it, and will, we doubt not, promote the cause of
experimental Religion.

The Literarium, Vol. iii., No. 26.
This is a periodical intended to serve as an Educational Gazette
and Journal of Literature, Science, and Art. As such it supplies
considerable variety of matter. The following brief articles will convey
some idea of the manner in which it is conducted ; —

LIFE IN MANCHESTER.

The Eev. Canon Stowell, delivered a lecture bearing the above title,
before a very large audience, in the Free Trade Hall, Manchester, on Tues-
day evening, the 20th ult. The lecturer said that it was his intention to
sketch the general and prominent characteristic features of * Manchester
life,' not in the lower but in the middle and higher walks. The
most prominent feature which distinguished the men of Manchester was
an intense, energetic, determined attention to business and the occupation
of ordinary life. There it was life in earnest, and he loved earnestness.
Another distinctive feature in Manchester life was good common sense and
sound judgment. Their Liverpool friends were disposed to imitate London
and disparage Manchester — to speak of the * gentlemen ' of Liverpool and
the * men ' of Manchester ; but he would rather have a good, sensible man
than a gentleman who set up for more than he was. Again, there was
about Manchester men and Manchester life, a great deal of honesty and

Digitized by VjOOQIC

184 Revitw and Critieism.

unaffectednesB, and disinterestedneBS, and unpretending kindness. There
was also a great deal of public spirit, energy, and enterprise. Another
feature of MancheBter life was the zeal Manchester had shown, and was
still showing, in the cultivation of the arts and in the inorease of informa-
tion and intelligence among all classes of the community. The last feature
on the bright side of the picture to which the lecturer alluded was large-
hearted liberality and generous munificence. A person had only to make
out a good case to meet with princely generosit^jr and liberality. Taming
to the dark side of the picture, the lecturer sfud that there was in Man-
chester a too intense and sastained application to business<*-an absorption
in its pursuits. Manchester life was largely— too largely — a mere mer-
cantile life, many having no idea beyond business. The spirit of competi-
tion led to speculation and commercial rambling, — to people trading with-
out capital, and to an extent beyond the& means. But, besides that, there
was a great deal of actual gambling. He had heard it said that Man-
chester was looked upon as an authority in horse-raeing and stakes. He
concluded by alluding to what he very much regretted to see, the growing
love for the excitement of diversions and amusement^ and the growing
taste for ostentatious display at entertainments. Against all these dark
phases he earnestly warned his audience. A hearty Vote of thanks was
accorded to the lecturer at the close.

Such articles as the following on th^ use of Time, especially with
reference to mental cultivation, will be found to be valuable to readers
of all classes 5 —

tmB— HOW TO iJtPROVB If ,— BY THB RKV. ADAM BLt*rfi.
1. YALUB UOMBNTS.

The smaller portions of our time are, perhap^ of all others, the most
apt to be despised. An hour is wasted^ because it is onlt/ an hour. Minutes
are disregarded, because thev are only minutes. Strange, indeed, that
such a mistaken notion should be so common. How mu(m depends upon
the hours and minutes thus trifled away t Who will undertake to estimate
their united value at the end of a day, a week, or a year ? It must be
acknowledged that we are inconsiderately prone to overlook the aggregate
amount, in the apparent insignificance of these stray corners of time. We
need to be constantly reminded that ^ sands make the mountain; mo-
ments make the year." How few put the question, "If I lose an hour,
how shall I repay the debt V Nor snould we forget here, that ^' of all the
portions of our life, the spare minutes are most fruitful in good or evil
They are gaps through wnich temptations find the easiest access to the
garden of the soul." In this view, it is sad to think of the multitudes to
whom their leisure has proved their rtun. Yet how often are thoughtless
and giddy persons heard to speak of their spare hours, in connection with
the very amusements and pleasures that present such temptations to sin.
Alas ! now little do such persons think of the precipice on the brink of
which they are sporting. How little do they reflect that they have in
truth no hours to spare for such unworthy purposes — none for worldly
vanities — none for the service of sin— none for the works of Satan— and
that it is nothing short of robbery thus to employ them. Your spare
hours, if such you call them, ought never thus to be trifled away, but, on
the contrary, to be diligently redeemed for rational, and dignified jajid holy
ends. Whatever be your outward lot in life, your condition is indeed truly
pitiable if you are guilty of despimng n\oments. or of throwing away any
portion of your time in vain, or frivolous or sinful amusements. Assuredly
you would not thus squander it if you remembered its hidden worth, or
the infinite consequence which depends upon its right improvement. How

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Heview and Criticism, 135

ilnpdrtant; the ihatriiction of Scripture when thus applied : " Gather up
the fragments, that nothing be lost." Value moments.

2. STUDY ORDSB.

The poet says, " Order is heaven's first law." And viewed in relation to
the improvement of time, the observance of this law would not, in all pro-
babilitj, be earth's meanest boon. The disregard of this maxim, at least,
it cannot be doubted, is one of the most prolific sources of Wasted time^
How many precious hours are every day frittered away, through want of
systematic arrangement ! If you would seek to obviate this waste, let
there be a time for everything, and let everything be done in its time. In
all your engagements let an hour be named, and let the utmost punctuality
be observed. Let a regard to the value and importance of time, both to
yourselves and others, be not only cherished in your memory, but be prac-
tically recognized in all the minutiae of life. Let each day, if possible* be
divided into portions, according to the several duties you are called
to discharge, and the relative importance attached to each. The econo-
mizing of time, it has been said, is like the packing of a trunk 5 ** A good
packer will get twice as much in as one inexperienced." You may see
this illustrated every day in all the various walks of life— not more In the
calm, steady, and systematic progression of some, than in the flurried,
fitful, and unsatisfactory course of others, and in the relative amount of
work which they each perform. Be impressed, therefore, with the im-
portance of method in relation even to the smallest matters ; and as no
duty should ever be forgotten^ so see to it that it be never wilfully mis-
placed. Let not one duty jostle out another* Let the law of order regu-
late your whole daily work. Attention to this practical bat much neglected
nile, will not only keep you from desultory habits, so ruinous in themselves,
but enable you to make such progress in all your aims and employments,
as would otherwise be perfectly unattainable. " One at once" is a valuable
maxim. Study order.

i^, ATOli) DELAYS.

There is a natural propensity in many minds to forget the &miliar
adage, " Never put on till to-morrow what can be done to-day.** With
such persons the urgency of present obligation is entirely overlooked, and
the dim and uncertain future is the world in which they live. To-da^
is forgotten in the prospect of to-morrow. To-morrow is always the fatal
period to which the activities of their life refer. With them there is no
I»«8ent duty — the unborn future has .carried it away. Their good inten-
tions never assume a tangible ^shape ; for the coming day to which they
trust is always cominp^, but never comes. Thus they Hve regardless of the
present^ which alonb is theirs, and pleasing themselves with the db&dow,
while they lose the reality. In the common afl^irs of this world such a
habit is always pernicious, but in grave conoems of the immortal soul it is
positively fatal. The ^Bvords are strong, but nevertheless quite true, ** Pro-
crastination is the kidnapper of souls, and the recruiting-offieer of hell."

" Without delay,'* was the motto of Alexander the Great. Short and
emphatix^ Would that it were also the motto of the teeming multitudes who
are now gliding so unconsciously down the stream of neglected time ! Again
we say, execute the work of every day with promptitude and vigour. Let
not your life be ^ided before your work is miished^ ** Opportimity is the
blossom of time.'* Avoid delays.

4. EARKESTNESB, THB SECRET OF SUOCSSS.

Young ta&an, whatever be your employment or calling in life^ however
homUe or howl9ver elevated, be in earnest. Let not your proceedings be
characterised by insincerity and lukewarmness, but let a vein of vigour

Digitized by VjOOQIC

136 Review and Criticism.

and zeal nm through them like a golden thread. Be absnrd, if yon please ;
imbecile, if God has made you so ; rash, if your temperament is warm ; be
anything or everything included in the list of human infirmity ; but be not
a sham 1 As siogs the immortal bard,

life is real^ life is earnest,
And the grave is not its goal;

and if you palter -with your avocation and coquette with visionary attrac-
tions, you will awake one day to a bitter realization of a life wasted and
energies misspent. Live in realities; think, speak, act and write truths
and facts : put all the immortal strength of your soul into duty, and per-
form it with might and persistency, and you shall then in " patience pos-
sess your soul,** when no work remains to be performed, and when the
voice of approval shall say, " It is enough, come up hither.'*

Our readers will agree with us, in regarding the periodical that con-
tains such articles, as being of some importance to the cause of general
enlightenment.

The Desert of Sinai. By H. Bonae, D.D. London : Nisbet
and Co.

This is the title of a work, comprising a large variety of very intel-
ligent Notes, of a Spring Journey from Cairo to Beersheba, by Dr.
Bonar of Kelso. The notes were taken on the spot : the pen and ink
sketches were all executed in the presence of the objects described, to
which, no doubt, is owing that air of reality and life with which the
reader is struck in reading Dr. Bonar's production. The ample stores
of information with which the traveller entered on his somewhat
hazardous journey, enabled him to view the numerous objects in the
course of his pilgrimage in their relation to Biblical^History, and in
this view, his work must prove of more than passing interest. We
regret that want of space obliges us to dismiss this excellent work,
somewhat summarily, but we cannot deny our readers the gratifica-
tion of one or more quotations. We shall select a brief passage on—

THE PYRAMIDS.

The Pyramids, with the exception of two small ones at Dashur, are built
of limestone, not of brick. The limestone seems to have come partly out
from the immediate neighbourhood of the Pyramids themselves, and partly
from the Mukattem ridge near Cairo. The red granite which is found in
the interior, and also in the surrounding tombs, is from Syrene in Upper
Egypt, 500 miles farther up the Nile.

The view from the top was no common one. Some travellers have written
that they were disappointed both with the view and with the Pyramids
themselves. We were not with either. Seated on the top we had to take
Jbreath for some minutes after the ascent, which tries every joint and
muscle in your limbs. Then we began to look about us. To the East,
the yellow Mukattem cliffs, with the Desert behind them and Cairo at
their feet, gleaming in the fair noon. Between us and the city there
flowed the mighty Nile, whose waters we could trace far North and South
for many a mile by the long line of moving silver, dividing the vast waste
of dull unmoving sand. Along its banks rose numerous palm forests, and
upon its bosom glittered the sails of a hundred river-boats, which, as they
moved along, seemed in the distance like the white wings of the sea-birdB,

!

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Itevieia and Critieisn^ f ^

To the West there lay the Lybian wastes on.xrkieH.tha'blTie hoftizon rested.
To the Soi^h rpse the loiirteen Pyramids of Sakbaraft^ some ten miles np
the Nile, wh^re is the lately-discovered Necropolis with the mummy-pita
of kings and gods. There is no doubt that the Pyramids were the tombs
of kings, and the greatness of these structures* shows how men strove to
undo the htimbli^ circumstances of mortality* To keep u|7:th^ semblance
of perpetueJ life^ they caused themselves to be embalpied. To 89,ve them-^
selves from £he abasement of the *' narrow hbiise," they*cased thefnselves
in pdlishctd^gramtei and reared these enormous tombs. Faith, accepting
^P l^l|te«us 8ent^C9 of mortality, as the wages .of sip, and yet counting'-
^n-a gkoriqus] immortality, in .resurf eotion j said, '^ Let jpie bury my dead
out of 8ight,"-^l)ul unbelief, y^^Uiftg itj the jpunishment, ant} resolved to

thus,

^ , , ^_,_^ _.^._^ . , in his

own house," 190 that when God would' thrfeaten Babylo*, 1ie*{elJs her that
ahe shall be eat out of her grave, ^^ and not joined with them'in burial ^* ;
and when He would warn £gypt| He says, th^y shall ndfc lie with the
mighty. 'J

The prophets nowhere make the slightest reference to these works, of
Egyptian pride, in their various predictions opnceming. Egypt,, fs if ^ that
which was the wonder of the nations was not worthy to' be.namea. But
perhaps it was' to such structures that Job^ referred when he spoke of
*' kings and counsellors of the earth, wha built desolate places for them-
selves."

In looking from the Pyramids, it is old Egypt that comes up before your
view,~old Egypt on both sides of the river. Modem Egypt, both in its
Christianity and its Moslemism disappears. An old bridge seems to spring
from the Pyramids, and to rest its hrst arch on the island of Itodah ; from
that it springs its second arch, which spans Cairo and rests on Heliopolis ;
—the Pyramids, the Nilometer, and the Obelisk, forming links of. an un-
broken chain. It is all old Misratm everywhere, a land that seems never to
die,— or if it does, in its very death to rise up- into a vastness that over-
shadows fdl nokodem grandeur. Gazing fr<wa ^e : Pyramids^ Oairoj fine as^
it is with its minarets and domes, seems bul^ as a patch of jnushrooms be^
tween two mighty oaks, or ,as a.ptte of white- washed houses between two.
old Cathedrals. Greek philosophy had its day of greatness, but old Egypt
was still above it. Moslemism has had its era of grandeur; but old Egypt
still towers above it. AU the changes of the last two thousand years
are but as modem additions to some old temple, which time after time
mouldar awi^yand leave the ancient structure more venerable and more
marvellous than before.

We have thus broken bulk, and now only have to refer the reader
to the work itseli^ where he will find many passages of equal in-
terest.**

. Our Christian Classics. London i Jahbs Nisbet and Co., 21,
Berners-street.

This is the first number irf a work intended to be a continuation of
the " Excelsior," with a very much larger space devoted to Religious^
Literature* It consists of readings from the best Divines. Its con-
tents are sufficiently varied and the articles are of solid interest. If
the snceeeding numbers should evince the same discrimination in the
selection and arraagAmeat of the articles, the work must acquire »

Digitized by VjOOQIC

188 Review and Criticism.

high place in popnhr favonr. There are very few serial publications
that have more fully commended themselves to our taste than this
Supplement to the "Excelsior.** We wish the enterprising Pub-
liishers a wide circulation.

Centenary Commemoration of the Opening of the Tottenham Court
Chapel^ London^ London : John Skow, 35, Paternoster-Row.

The work before us consists of Addresses and Sermons by ih& Revs.
J. W, Richardson, Dr. John Campbell, ^ames Sherman, and C. H.
Spurgeon, with a Report of the Public Meeting on the occasion
mentioned in its title. The address of Mr. Richardson consists
mainly of a sketch of that extraordinary man (Rev. George Whit-
field) of whose piety and eloquence the chapel in Tottenham Court
Road is so fine a monument. Dr. Campbell's address, the most
valuable, in our estimation, of the two, is designed to show the
progress of Evangelical Religion in the world, during the last
century. The sketch abounds with statistical information evidencing
the progress of Evangelical Religion. ** Let these facts be combined,"
says the Doctor, ** and it will be seen that the century 1756 — 1856
has been by far the most remarkable on ' record. The church has
broken forth on all sides, and taken possession of the whole earth for
Him whose right * is to reign,' who is the ' Head of the heathen,'
and the * Lord of all,' " But it is one of the inconveniences of joint
Authorship, that one writer sometimes utters sentiments at variance
with the statements of another. This is what has been done by Mr.
Spurgeon in relation to Dr. Campbell. Dr. Campbell it will be seen
represents the age as one in which the Church has taken mighty
strides in the path of improvement. Mr. Spurgeon describes it as an
age of formality and corruption. " Everybody now-a-days joins the
church; go where you may, you will find professing Christians.
Almost every one sits down at some Lord's table or another. But
are there fewer cheats than there used to be. Are there less frauds
committed ? Do we find morality more extensive ? Do we find vice
less freely indulged. No, Sirs, we do not. The age is as immoral as
any that has preceded it; there is still as much Sin, although more
cloaked and more hidden^* We know too well that the Age is no
better than it should be, but when Mr Spurgeon says, it is as immoral
as any that has preceded it, he must be understood either as uttering
monstrous hyperbole, or as being utterly ignorant of human history.

There are two excellent Sermons by Dr. Leifchild, and the Rev.
James Sherman ; indeed, the volume as a whole is well worth pdrusal,
and forms a valuable memorial of one of the most eminent and
devoted men that ever lived. That it will have a wide circulation
there can be no doubt.

ScBcula Tria : An Allegory of Life — Past^ Present ^ and to Come.
London : David Bogxje, Fleet-street.

This is a poetical production from the pen of Mr. Wyke Bayliss
— a new name, to most of our readers, little adapted to awaken
those pleasurable emotions which usually attend the announce^

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Friends in Council, 139

ment of new works from the pen of an eminent literary character. But
this should not be permitted to operate to the Author's prejudice. The
Saecula Tria, we believe, is the first work of this youthful author, and
no wonder that it should present some marks of juvenility. The wri-
ter is a person of great strength of imagination, some depth of feelings
and considerable facility in the employment of both for literary purpo-
ses. His flights are of an ambitious order, but his imagination is per-
mitted to roam abroad without restraint, and his diction wants those
graces which can be acquired only by close application to the study of
the best authors. The youthful author is not without genius, but we
think, he might, in preparing his next production, do well, to bear in
mind, the suggestive observation of a genuine poet, that the blotched
copies make all the fine writing. The neglect of this, has, in the
present instance, done very much to present the pieces before us in a
state that might have tempted the pen of the Edinburgh Reviewer
of the poems of the late Robert Montgomery. The Author will
understand us.

PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED.

1. " Words of Comfort for Bereaved Parents." Edited by W. Logan.

2. "Entire Devotion." !^ Mrs. Palmer. London: Heylin.

3. " Sketches of the Rev. Br. Livingston." London : John Snow.

4. "British Workman." January and February, 1857.

5. " Baud of Hope." January and February, 1857.

6. " My Word Book." No. III. London : Ward and Co.

7. " GHmpses of our Heavenly Home." London : Heylin,

8. " The Virgin Widow." London : John Snow.

FRIENDS IN COUNCIL.

It was the custom of Marvel, Woolmar, and Digbv, to spend Saturday
afternoon together. In summer time they generally left the din and dust
of the crowded city for a quiet stroll into the country. When the day
was. wet or cold, they met at Marvel's house, or Woolmar's rooms, and
passed the evening in cheerful, earnest talk.

Woolmar was — or rather is— a Dissenting Minister, or as he prefers
to be called, a Christian Teacher. His friends say, that when a boy ne was
fond of books. So he still remains. In theology and politics his views
are broad and liberal. And earnestly is he striving, as best he can, to
serve his God, and improve his generation.

Bighy is at present a hard student in College ; expecting shortly to

take his degree, and to receive a call from a large church in a populous
town.

Marvel is a sleeping partner in a lucrative business, and lives in good
style a little distance from town. Like most men who spend their time
ia reading rather than in action, he is too much disposed to find fault with
tUngs as thej are. Foster and Carlyle are his favourite modem authors.
Notwithstanding this, you cannot know him without loving him. He is
devout, without being dull, Gk)dly, without being grim. You have only
to hear him laugh to discover he is healthy and hearty, both in mind and
body. He reads much, thiiJss more, and says little, except to his intimate
friends.

It was on an afternoon, bright and warm in the beginning of autumn,
that the three friends left the town for the accustomed stroll. An hour's
valk brought them to the Uttle village of Darley, and as they passed the

l2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

140 friinda in Council

old cborob, the cloek tolled tbree,-*wh6n the' Mowing OGnTenatioii
oommenced.

Woolmar^ I don't wonder at Cowper exclaiming^

'< Qod made the country, and man made the town.**

The Bimplicity and innocence of this quiet, rural life, is a striking contrast
to the sin and misery of our great towns. How much more healthy, both
to body and soul, is the occupation of these villagers. And what manifest
opportunities they have for reflection and meditation on the wonderfnl
works -of €rod.

Marvel, Cpwper*8 line is oidy partially true. And your notions of
country life are altogether untrue, £uter the cottages of these jteasanta
and your poetry will be turned into prose. Instead of finding their inmates
thoughtful and intelligent"; you. will find them dull and stupid. To get a
new thought into theur heads is the most difficult of all difficult things.
I never pass through these villages Without being reminded of that oft-
repeated line in their church service, " As it was in the beginning, so ft is
now, and ever shall be." That is the Jinale of their creed, in religion,
politics, agriculture, and trade. If you were to live amongst^ them your
views would alter, as Qowper's did, respecting that beautiful cottage
perched upon the hilL When at a distance he thought it would be the
very place for a poet. But upon nearer inspection h6 discovered ita
inconveniences. Its owner had, to go fkr for his water j and then it was of
little worth. And he often' had to wait long for the bsJcer.

" So farewell envy of the.^5af»0LMM| !-
If solitude make scarce the medns o| ll
Society for me ! — thou seeming sweet,
Be still a pleasing object in my view ;
My visit still, but never mine abode."

So, Woolmar, you would say, if you were to come and live in the country.
Don't talk any more cant about the virtues of the peasantry. Tour soul
woald be starved to death among them— for they are not only ignorant,
but they ftre perfectly content to remain so.

Woolmar, '■ In aU your pictures, Marvel, you use too much lamp-black.
The peasants are not so stupid as you think. Besides, may we not
meet with the same ampunt of iffnorance, with double the amount of sin,
in our large towns. • In the crowded city we meiet with but little to remind
us of God. ?ut when we take a walk into the country, and watch the
fields waving with golden grain ; — when we listen to tjie light tinkle of the
brook chanting its quiet tune, or the birds merrily singing among the
branches ; we are brought into communion with the unseen Father of our^
spirits, and look through nature, up to nature's Qod. Alexander Smith-
one of our young poets, who has edways lived in town— has well described
the dangers to which those are exposed who see so little of God*s works.
He says,

''In mighty town ; immured in their blaek hearts^

The Btars are nearer to you than the Md$^

I'd grow an Atheist in these towns of trad^

Were 't not for stars. The smoke puts heaven out |

I meet sin- bloated faces in the streets.

And shrink as from a blow. I hear wild oatha,

And curses spilt from lips that once were sweet,

And seal'd for heaven by a mother's kiss.

I mix with men whose hearts of human fiest^

BeneaUi the petrifying touch of gold.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Friends in Council. 141

Have grown as «tony as the trodden wayg.
J see no trace of God, till in the night
"While the vast city lies in dreams of gain
He doth reveal Himself to me in heaven I '

Marvel. I have not met with those lines, Wooldiar. But you know my
opiuion of the p6ets of our day. I often fancy that they are all vegetarians,
and are far gone in consumption. A man who is always feeling his
Bpiritual pulse, and examining his own thoughts, cannot be in good health.
Yigorous health is unconscious. A man never feels his toe until he has
got the gout. He never thinks of his tooth until it aches. I think if our
young poets were to eat more beef, they would perhaps write better poetry.
Tliere » a verse of Kebk'it, Woolmar, that I have heard you quote whioa
has a healthier tone than those lines of Smith* Just repeat it.

If^Qolmar, I suppose you mean the following :—

^ There axe in this loud stunning tide
. Of human care and crime,
With whom the melodies abide

Of th' everlasting chime 1
Who carrv music in their heart,

Through dusky lane and wrangling mart.
Flying their daily task with busier feet.

Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat'

Marvel. Yes, that is the verse. And notwithstanding the authority of all
the Smiths, I will maintain that there is a far greater proportion in the
town " who carry music in their heart," than in the country.' It is a great
mistake to suppose that a countryman is affected by the' beauties of nature
like a townsman. The Swiss peasants are not so much improved by the
magnificence of their mountains, as those are who have lived In more level
coantries. And you must remember, Woolmar, how much you are indebted
to books for the enjoyment derived .from communion with nature. Shake-
pere, Cowper. and Words worth,' ha Ve enabled you- to read the page, which
to the peasant is written in hieroglyphics. He can . no 'tnore discern the
deep spiritual meaning in the objects around, than he could enterpret the
slabs in the British Museum, which Layard broaght from Kineren.

Bighy. I think Marvel is right. The town is more conducive to the
growth of manly intellect than the country. How is, it Woolmar, if the
country be more (avourable to the religious life, that the word paaan^
which originally meant villager^ has come to be equivalent to heathen f
Or, how has the word heathen sot its presentmeaning ? Did it not origin-
ally mean heathmen, those who lived in the country f — The change in the
meaning of those two words, is historic proof that the towns were
Christianized before the country. And the world's work has ever been done
in the great cities.

Marvel. Well said, Digby. This morning I was reading a letter of
LamVs to Wordsworth, in which he humorously ccmplains of the-
intolerable dulness of a little country town, in which he had to stay for a
time to recruit his health. Instead of the lofty fruiterers of Oxford Street;
he 8aid,**there were shops two yards square, their stock in trade, being half
a dozen apples and two penn'orths of overlooked gingerbread.. And in
pbice of the immortal book and print stalls ; there was a circulating library
that stood stilly where the show picture was a last year's valentine."

I^ighy. Well, let us leave the question. Town versus country is an old
anbject. Perhaps a little of both is the best. Which road shall we now
take, through the fields or-tbe wood ?

IdarveL Of course, Woolmar will say through the wood. For he always
becomes eloe^uent whei» he talk? about trees. A lady of my acquaintance.

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

142 Friends in Councils

the other day asked him, if he was going to a horticultural show in the
neighbourhood, when he replied, " No ! but he would like to go to a tree-
show."

Woolmar, I confess, that there are few 6bjects more beautiful to my
mind, than a large tree. What flower-show is to be compared with that
wood which lies oefore us. Look at those brilliant colours. How rich and
deep. And all those varied tints mingled in one living mass of glory.
And not only is a great tree a most beautiful object in itself, but there are
80 many pleasant associations connected with it. Look at that majestic
oak, and think of its age. It has lived there for three hundred years at
least, and is yet in its prime. And notwithstanding your radicalism,
Marvel, we all have at the bottom, a deep love for tmngs that are old.
Then think what it has suffered. What battles it has fought with nvind
and storm. On many a dark and lonely night, has it struggled with the
demon of the tempest, until it has roared out with pain. And although it
has lost a limb or two in the fight, yet in the end, it struck its roots deeper,
and in the following summer it was yet more vigorous. Then again think
of the benevolence of that tree. It does not live for itself. It is as useful
as it is beautiful. It has provided food and shelter for hundreds of gene-
rations. Millions of insects have fed upon it, and danced beneath its
mighty shade. And thousands of birds have performed many a merry
concert in its wide spreading branches. How can you compare that
delicate, tender, hot-house plant, which was only bom last week, and which
the least frost or wind will destroy, with that brave old oak. When
looking at a tree like that, I have often admired that verse of George
Herbert's, where he says —

'^ I read and sigh, and wish I were a tree,
For sure then I should grow
To fruit or shade ; at least some birds would trust
Her household to me, and I should be just.'*

Marvel, If you could as easily find ' sermons in stones,' as you can
'tongues in trees,' you would be saved a good deal of hard study. By-the-
bye, this talk about trees, brings to my mind a story I once heard respect-
ins Foster. He was going to preach to a small congregation in a country
viUage, and on the road he passed a remarkably large tree, which suggested
to his mind a striking train of thought. When before his congregation he
felt that the sermon he had prepared would not be exactly suitable, he
therefore made the tree the theme of his discourse. Having invested it
with intelligence, and given it a tongue, he supposed it to give utterance to
all that it had seen, and heard, during its long lifetime. During the
course of three hundred years or more, how many oaths had it heard ? how
many deeds of wickedness had it seen done under the dark shade of
night. What secrets it could reveal, &c. &c. And 'tis said, that ever after,
that was a mysterious tree in the eyes of those villagers. And one poor
man said he could never pass it at night without trembling.

I>iffhy, That's what I should call putting tongues in trees, rather than
dnding them there.

^ Wbolmar, True, as regards Foster himself, but not so as regards the
villagers. It is the prerogative of the poet's genius to show us spiritual
meanings in all the oojects around.

Marvel, Well, Woolmar, I agree with you that a tree-show is more
interesting than a flower-show. Oaks before tulips any day. A forest of
pines is more beautiful than a bed of pansies. And perhaps the chief
reason why so many ladies like to go to flower shows is to show themselves.
But I am now hungry, and I always talk better, at least more pleasantly,
after a good meaL You remember that our friend told us the other night,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

7%e Casket. J43

that one striking trait in the character of the Anglo-Saxons, was, that
they took kindly to their meat. I am happy to say that in this respect I
have not degenerated from so noble a stock. Share out the sandwiches,
Digby.

[Hamng done ample justice to the bread and beef, and Marvel having
lighted his cigar, they proceeded through the wood. The birds were singing
their merriest songs, and millions of insects were dancing through their
blithesome hour. The very rabbits seemed to know that it was Saturday
afternoon, and were making holiday. After half an hour*s walk they had
left the wood behind them, and now the west was open to the sky. The
landscape which lay before 'ihetii was rich and beautiful. Near at hand was
the river, with its sweet sad music, rolling on and on perpetually. Not far dis-
tant was the quiet village of Sherwood, with its old church standing on the hill,
and its white cottages among the trees. In some of the fields the corn was
rich and ripe, all in shock, ready for the garner, and in others, the husband-
men were surrounding the last waggon load, merrily shouting, * Harvest
Home? The sun, like a mighty artist, was painting strange, fantastic,
gorgeous scenes. The fleecy clouds were all tinged with gold, and as they
melted away, you could read the prophecy of a bright Sabbath morn.. Saving
found a seat, the three friends sat to drink in the beauty of the scene, when the
conversation again became earnest.']

(To be continued)^

THE CASKET.

THE CLOSING SCENE.

The world has seen many more ages than those assigned to it by the poet
philosopher of the heathen. He traced the gradual deterioration of man-
kind and earth itself from the Age of Gold until it reached the Age of Iron,
and though the world has grown much older than it was in the days
of Ovid, we fear that its subsequent ages have not been marked by any
effectual attempt to re-ascend the scale of morality. On the contrary, sad
experience must teach us that we sank deeper and deeper in the abyss, till
at leo^h the Age of Eeason lowered upon us, and^ despite the truths of
revelations, sousnt to enthral us in the chains of infidelity. Than this
there can be nothing deeper, nothing more debasing, nothing more sickening
to the refiectine mind, for it betokens ill-applied powers of the highest
order, perverted, not merely hidden talents, and a mischievous misappli-
cation of the opportunities placed within our reach by supreme wisdom for
the palpable purpose of bringing man by comparison nearer to his Creator
in intellects and powers of thought. Man, however, has for the most part
misconceived the use of the great facts which have been graciously placed
within his reach through the instrumentality of science and research. In
his fond conceit he would throw aside his allegiance to God, and, arrogating
to himself the command of the very elements, would, from having learned to
^ise, fool himself into the vain imagination that he could create the world
afresh, and fai^ion it more in accordance with his finite understanding.

To this end does the A^e of Keason insidiously urge its victims ; nor are
they few, for the plant is of rapid growth. Deadly though the poison
is which lies concealed within the captivating exterior of this plant, we fear
that there are few of its cultivators who have taken the trouble to analyze
it, and to test its properties with patient assiduity and an earnest desire
to elicit the truth. Captivated by the perfumed atmosphere which ever
floats around the object of their admiration, they are dead to all its inherent
defects; and pluming themselves qu tUeir qwn fancied superiority over those

Digitized by VjOOQlC

who Acknowledge the ttammelt of loyalty, ffdbjectioh, &ith, ^iid aldtgiflkitil
to the Supreme, they on all sides spread their toils for the vaTfei«r«i|i^
wanderer irom the fold' of the true Shepherd. Of these there is ne^r an^
lack, and many there he who fall into the net thus laid for them, for tho.
creed of the Freethinkers is, to minds untutored hy education and moral
culture, a most inviting study ; it can be shuffled on or on, aa the humour
suits, with th«^ slightest exertion of the wearer ; and, if it holds out no
prospect of reward, it at least is silent as to punishment.

Little matter of wonder is it, then, that during the excitement of pursuit^
and at a period when the lifeblood courses through man*s veins and arteries
with healthy rapidity, such notions as were professed by a Bolingbroke,
-a Volney, or a Shelley, appear in their hoU^y attire. If, howevef, we trace
these men to their hiding-places, and sift their seoret. tboi^hts in that
fearinl moment when the pulse flags, and the. limbs refuse their office, while
the restless soul, hanging 1;>etween Heaven and Hell, can find no city of
refuge, and compare tneir last hours with those of the meek but steadfast
believer and the practical Christian, the tinsel wiM soon :drop from off the
worthless theory, and the doubting disciple of a creed which begins and ends
in nothing, will be rudelv awakened to his dan^r, and fly for succour and
protection from his own devices to the foot of his Saviour's cross. There, as
ne gazes in his mind's eye on the Son of [Man, whom he has hour hy ho«£
crucified afresh, and in imagination wUnessps the terrors of the ''ninth
hour," he will widly, yet firmly, exclaim with the watching centurion,—
" Truly this was the Son of God,*' and renouncing the error of his past life,
seek to attain to that happy state under the influence of which the saints and
elect of God have been enabled to contemplate their last hour with patient
submission, and to welcome its immediate approach with the earnest con-
viction that the grave hath no victory^ and Death no sting.

Young has well described the origin of Scepticism in these satirical lines:

Health keeps an Atheist in the dark,

A fever argues better than a Clarke ;

Let but the logic in his pulse decay,

The Grecian he'll renounce, and learn to pray.

BBAL VIRTUE ACTIVE.

I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreath-
ed, that nfiver. sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race,
where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.
Assuredly we. bring not innocence into the world, we bring impurity much
rather; that which purifies us is trial, and trial is by what is contrary.
That virtue, therefore which is but a younglifig in the contemplation of
evil, and knows not the utmost that vice promises to her followers, and
rajecta it, is but a blank virtue, not a pure.— 3f»^to«, , . *

THE KING AKD THE SILVER-TONED BELL.

There is a story told of an anonymous King, the moral of which may be
well applied by all sovereigns. The old monarch, when dying, called bis
son to him, put in his hand the sceptre, and then asked him if he could
take advice as easily as he had taken from his father the symbol of autho-
rity. The young heir, grasping tbe sceptre tightly, and hinting at the
excellence of brevity in counsel as well as, in wit, said, under the circum-
stances, "he could." "I will be brief as my breath,** answered th9
. abdicating monarch, "and that is short enough. You look upon the world,
boy, as a house of pleasure ; now, hear better from me» Woe, my lad,
tumbles in pailfulls, and good luck is only distilled in drops," The eon
looked down at his now silent sire, and found he was dead. The new King
commaaided a splendid ftineral, and arranged a grand hunting pwty for the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The €amt. 14A

day afber. B^laugbed at the paternal smile, and, to pablkh^ its weakness
and hiaiown fellcitty«r he caused to be placed above his palace a large silver-
t(B]«dibeil ; A rope'p^sed from it to each room he occupied, '^ I vill ring
it," said he^ " WA^nnror I jfeel thoroughly happy. I have no doubt that
I shall Wflaxy m^ ca^n arm^ and deafen my people's eai^." For a whole,
month the bell was fiil^nt "Iha^e had my hand on the rope/* said the.
Eongitf^ fifty times^ but J, felt thi^ I was hardly happy enough to proclaim
it to fny people ; but ifge ha«ee got over, our first difficulties, and to-
morrouh^^^ Oik the morrow, as he was boasting of the fidelity and friend-
ship of one of his ministers, he learned t^at his friend and servant was in
the habit of betraying the contents of hi^ private despatches to a^ neigh-
bouring potentate, from whom the traitor received stars and ci*osses in
return. The King sighed. "We shali.not toll the bell, tUyn, to-day ; but
assuredly to-morrow.'^ In the morning ihe rodje- over tO; the house of. the
mistress of his heart <* There," he remarked to himself, as he went along
in that pace which used to-be observed by the pilgrims to Canterbury, anpi
which xa England has tak^n its name^ f^om the two first syllables of the
city's name,r-T" there I have never found disappointment." What he did
find he never told ; but on his return to the palace, when his groom of the
chambers looked intferi'ogatively between, hini and t the bell-rope, the
monarch simply twisted thd etod q£ the latter into a noose, and angrily
mattered, as he flung it down again^ " Would to heaven that they were
both hanging from it together !" On the following da,y he philosophically
reviewed his case. *!l.have been unreasonable," ne said ;. "why should
1 grieve because \ have been betiayed by a knave, and jilted by a girl with
golden hairP ;I have wide dominions, a full treasury, a mighty army,:
iaaghing vineyards, verdant meadowa, a ^people who pay t^xea- as if they
lo?ed thenii aaad GknTs free air to- breathe in. I may be happy yet," added
he, advancing to the window*-*" bay, I am^/" and he reached his hand to
the rope. He was on the very pioint of ringing at it with good will, when,
he saw a. sight without, and heard a voice witMn, which made him pause.
A messenf^r was at hu feet. '' Oh, Sire 1" exclaimed the bringer of bad^
tidmss, ^ thou seest the dust, the fires, and the gleam of arms without.
The foe has broken in upon the land, and terror is before and devastation
behind him!" **Now a curse upon kingship, that brings a. wretched
monarch evils like these !" cried the King who wanted to be happy. The
courier hinted something about the miseries of the people. " By tnat Lady
of Hate, whose church is in Brittany," cried the prince, "thou art right 1
I thought to pull lustily at the beU, but I will as lustily pull at my sword
in the sheath, and see if there be not viiiiue in that. How came in the
foe ? and who commands them 1" The answer to this double query told
him that the enemy could not have entered, had not hiff despatches been
betrayed to the invader ; and that the van of the army was under the
comnuuid of a prince, whose same was no aooneir uttered to the kin? than
the latter tamed red with fuiy, and exclaimed, *• He ! — then I shall ring
the bell yet. I will have his life, and the lady — " He said no more, but
went oat, fought like a man, cleared the land of the foe, hung the traitor
^ith all his orders on him, maimed the young leader of the hostile
vanguard past sympathy from Cupid, and returned to his capital in
triumph. He had so Biuoh to employ him after his return, so much
to accomplish for the restoration of the fortunes of his people, so much to
nieditate upon for future accomplishments, that when at night he lay down
upon his couch, weariness upon his brow, but a shade of honest joy upon
hia cheek, he had fairly forgotten the silver bell in his turret, and the
ropes whiqh depended from it. And so he grew gray and infirm, never
tamii^ ^^Qta his work till the inevitable Angel looked smilingly in his face,
ftnd began to beckon him away.' He was sitting upright in his uneasy

Digitized by VjOOQlC

146 The Casket.

chair, pale as deatli, bat still at his ministry, till his eyes grew dim,
his head sank on his breast, and there was, without, a sound of wailing.
" What voices are those ]" asked he softly : " what is there yet for me to
do ?*' His chancellor stooped over him as he now lay on a couch, and
whispered, *' Our father is departing from among us, and his children
are at the threshold, in tears.** ** Let them in ! let them come in !"
hoarsely cried the King. *' God ! do they really love me 1" ** If there were
a life to be purchased here, O worthy Sire, they would purchase thine with
their blood. The crowd streamed silently in, to look once more upon the
good old king, and to mourn at his departure. He stretched his hands
towards them, and asked, " Have I won your love, children % have I won
your love ?*' One universal affirmative reply, given from the heart, though
given with soft expression, seemed to bestow on the dying monarch newlSe.
He raised himself on the couch, looked like an inspired saint, and tried
to speak, but £siiled in the attempt. None the less happy, he looked np
to God, glanced to the turret where hung the bell, extended his hand
to the rope, gave one pull and died with a smile on his lips as he
rang his own knell. — DorarCs Mbnarchs Retired from Business,

LADIES* INFLUENCE ON ELDER LADS.

There is one thing in school- work which I wish to press on yon ; and
that is, that you should not confine your work to the girls, but bestow
it as freely on those who need it more, and who (paradoxicid as it may seem)
will respond to it more deeply and freely — the hoys, I am not going to enter
into the reasons why, I only entreat you to believe me, that by helping
to educate the boys, or even (when old enough) by taking a class (as I nave
seen done with -admirable effect) of grown-up lads, you may influence
for ever, not only the happiness of your pupils, but of the girls whom
they will hereafter marry. It will be a boon to your own sex, as well as to
ours, to teach them courtesy, self-restraint, reverence for physical weak-
ness, admiration of tenderness and gentleness; and it is one which
only a lady can bestow. Only by being accustomed in youth to converse
with ladies, will the boy learn to treat hereafter his sweetheart or his wife
like a gentleman. There is a latent chivalry, doubt it not, in the heart
of every untutored clod j if it dies out in him (as it too often does), it were
better for him, I often think, if he had never been bom ; but the only
talisman which will keep it alive, much more develope it into its fulness, is
friendly and revering intercourse with women of higher rank than hiin-
self. — jRev, Charles Kingshy,

ADMIRATION AND ASPIRATION.

It is a good thing to believe ; it is a good thing to admire. By oontinn-
ally looking upwards, our minds will themselves grow upwards, and as
a man, by indulging in habits of scorn and contempt for others is sure to
descend to the level of what he despises, so the opposite habits of admiration
and enthusiastic reverence for excellence impart to ourselves a portion of the
qualities we admire. Here, as in every thing else, humility is the sorest
path to exaltation. — Dr, Arnold,

ANECDOTE OF REV. ALBERT BARNES.

The following anecdote is told of this gpentleman. Being some time (as
younger men might be) inclined to sleep a little during the sermon, a friend
who was with him in his pew one Sunday lately, having joked him on his
having nodded now and then, Barnes insisted that he had oeen awake all the
time. " Well, then," said his friend, " can you tell me what the sermon
was ahoutf^ *' Yes, I can," he answered, " it was about an hour and a half
too long !" ^

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Eeligions IntelUgence* {47

THE TKEES IN BLOSSOM.

One day in Spring, when the weather was beautiful and tlie fruit trees
showed one mass of blossom, Gotthold, walking in his garden, and feasting
his eyes with their splendour, made the following observations to a friend :
—These trees bear much more blossom than they can possibljr ripen into
fruit This shows in them an inward and natural disposition to pay
liberally for the ground they occupy, but afterwards they are more or less
hindered by outward circumstances, from carrying into effect. It is the
same with good men. Ah me ! how large, how keen, how many thousand-
fold are often their good resolutions, and inward desires to love and serve
the Lord ! O God, we hear them cry, had I the love of all angels and men,
it should burn for Thee alone ! had I ten thousand hearts, to Thee should
they be consecrated and resigned ! Had I the tongues of all mankind, their
only employment should be to praise and extol Thee, O God of glory. With
what alacrity and joy I will henceforth serve Thee ! Ah me ! why did
I not know Thee sooner, O Thou pure and eternal Love ! " Depart from
me, ye evil doers, for I will keep the commandments of my God." (Psalm
cxix. 115.) At such a time, the tree is in full blossom ; and the inward
impulse of the Holy Spirit, and the constraining power of the love of Christ,
are powerfolly felt. Scarce a tithe of the l^lossom, however, ripens into fruit,
But as man, notwithstanding, takes pleasure in beholding it upon the tree,
so does God delight in a heart overflowing vnth fervour, and holy reso-
lutions, and in the fruits and works of righteousness, though these may
at first be few. O Lord, my God and Father, have patience likewise with me,
and be satisfied with the blossom and poor firstlings of my Christianity.
Do Thou also purge me, and vouchsafe to me Thy blessing, that I may
become more and more fruitful and productive.

RELIGIOUS INTELLIGENCE.
FIRST LONDON CIRCUIT.

BRUNSWICK CHAPBL, DEFTFOBD.

The Fifteenth Annual Tea and Public Meeting of the Tract Society, in con-
nection with the above place of worship, was held on Wednesday, January the
28th, the Rev. R. Miller in the chair. The attendance was good, and the pro-
ceedings of the evening were of a most interesting character. The report of
the committee showed that the operations of the Society during the pastyear
had been attended by the Divine blessing, and proved instrumental in effect-
ing considerable good ; and also expressed a determination on the part of the
committee to put forth every exertion, in order to promote the kingdom of
Christ, by circulating more extensively the Word of God, which is able to
make men wise unto salvation. Excellent addresses were given by Mr.
Drake, of Woolwich, Mr. Coster, of London, Mr. Ball (City Missionary), and
Mr. Wame, both of Deptford, eminently adapted to urge all those engaged in
Tract distribution to increased activity, and unwearied perseverance in this
important work. The pecuniary state of the Society is very satisfactory, and
there is good cause to nope that under the Divine blessing, the present year
may be one of great success.

At the close of the meeting several persons came forward and offered them-
selves as distributors and subscribers. May the Lord of the harvest send
more labourers, and crown their efforts with abundant prosperity, J. C.

HELSTON CIRCUIT.

To the Editor— Rev. and dear Sir,

On Monday evening, the 10th of November, 1856, the Annual Meeting was
held at Roswick, and the following evenin|;8 at Bpwy where, at Breage, and at

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

1^

Reliffious Int^mc^

Lower Town. The weath^c was ^tremely utkfavotirable, but in all the places
the attendance was satisfactorv, in most very good. A gracious ana-'^ar-
nest spirit tras . manifested, and tae ^collections were several pounds in advance
of the fa^t year. Sermons were preached by the Revs.'T. Ellery of Penzance,
and J;'Cleave of Camborne, ana Mr. N. Tmner. In addition to the services
of these brethren, addresses were delivered by Messrs. W.Thomas of MuUins,
J. Curnow of the Garrus, W. C. Odger, F. Carter, G. Carter, W. Selwood, E.
J. Rogers, and the two Circuit ministers. A deep impression' was produced
on the Farious meetings, as was evident from the sustained attention, the
xsollections, and \iy other s^ns of a still., more gratifying .character. This was
the case in an eminent degree, at homey Tdwii^a n^w place tecently taken on
the general plan, at which our fu-st Missionary m^etttog was held, o4 Thursday
evening the 13th of November,' and which will be long repnembered as a season
of great spiritual good to the souls of the people. On the Sunday previous,
sermons in behalf of the Missions had been preached by our esteenaed brother^
J. Cleave of Camborne, a deep impression was produced, and at the nra^rer-
meeting held aftier evening service, several Were in distress seeking salvation.
At the meeting beld t)n the Thursday evening, the' room was well filled, Mr.
G. Carter occupied the chair; during the time the chairman and the other
speakers addressed the meeting, cries of penitence were heatd. Thb celleetioii
had to be made early, and the meeting turned into a penitent prayer-meeting.
.In different parts of the meeting might be seen, penitents «i6njlWaing' sin tad
earnestly pleading for mercy. Two or three obtained a sense of pardon.: The
ibllowing Friday evening Mr. Ellery preached. The room was agdn crowded
•and three obtained peace in believing. Since that time the .work .has been

Soing on gradually ; many precious meetings have been held, and mQch good
one.

Last Friday evening, the 16th of January, at the request of the. friends 1
went there to preach, and to give notes of admission into our Society. The
attendance was good — a gracious feeling amongst the people — there \yere four
or live penitent, one of whom was completely broken down. At the close I
had the pleasure of giving notes of admission to thirteen persons, most of whom
are giving evidence of an inward change, and the others are earnestly seeking
salvation. No doubt many of the readers of the Magazine, who take an inter-
est in the progress of the work amongst us, will feel interested in a state-
ment of the singular manner in which the cause at Lower Town commenced.
A few months agb,^ after preaching at Helston on a Sunday evening, we
were holding a prayer-meeting in the vestry. When we arose from prayer, I
was surprised to see a fen&ab present, who had enteiied diking prayer. She
appeared interested, and remaiiied to the close of the meeting without giving
any strong indications of penitence. IJeamt that she had been. at a feast
held in the neighbourhood, and had called in on her return home. The Spirit
of God was working on hermind, and. in a few days she became a sincere
■penitent. Along with another female^ a friend of hers, who had been converted,
she came to the means of grace, joined class, and after a severe struggle ob-
tained deliverance from her burden of guilt* She resided at Lower Town.
She invited her friends to the means of grace at Helston Chapel. In A short
time several others were brought under a gracious influence, and a prayer-
meeting was established at Lower Town. The two young women above re-
ferred to began to labour zealously for God. Numbers attended the means of
grace and several were converted. Brother Selwood, one of our Local preach-
ers, opened his house for prayer — a class was established — Brother John Pett-
gelly and a few other pious souls soon joined, and another class was com-
menced. An old woollen factory was taken and fitted up as a preaching- room,
and on Whit»Monday it was opened by a nublic tea-party and meeting. The
expense of pulpit, seats, repairing, and cleaning, wae met by the proceeds.
AYe have now upwards of fifty persons meeting in class, with a prospect of
increase. Land has been obtained for a new chapel which the friends are
intending to erect immediately, so that the conversion of one soul it is hoped,
will lead to many more. I am thankful to be able to say, that in several other
places we have tokens of progress. At llinsey and Ashton, the chapels are
crowded, and several conversions have recently taken place ; indeea, in the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Riligiaus IntetligenceS i4£f

western part of ihe Circuit generally, the worlt is in a^l' encouraging state. 'I^
believe oUr friends are praying and working for a revival, — using these means,'
the churches must prosper. '

That such may he the case, not merely in this Circuit, hut in every part of.
the Connexion, is the earnest prayer of. Yours truly,

HeUtonj January 72nd, 1857. Charles Edwards.

SCARBORQTTGH.

Thr Annual Tea Festival in hehalf of our Chapel Fund, waa held in the Me*
chanics' Hall on the 15th Deeemhep, 1856. .Most of the trays were furnished
gratuitously, and ai usual* exhibited great variety and abundance. The
weather was very wet and cold, and thia.no doubt prevented seme from being
present. Still we had a good company — three hundred and twenty-^i^t
persons sat down to tea. Considering the un propitious state of the atmosphere;
it was sui^ristng and truly encouraging, to see *so many gathered together.
After tea the resident minister presided, and interesting addresses were deli-
vered by the Revs. B. Evans, J. J. Poulter (BaptisU), B. Backhouse, R..Bal*
^rnie (Independents), J. Calvin (Primitive) ; and by H. Fowl^,.£sq.,.\Mr.
C. Pearne (Wesleyans), and Mr.-R. Goodhind (Primitive). The meetings Wis
enlivened and interested by our chapel choir, who at intervals sang tome
appropriate pieces. Altogether the festival passed off remarkably well The
proceeds, including subscriptions and donations, amount to rather more than
20/. We hope soon to effect another reduction of our chapel debt Great;
praise is due to our friends for the efforts they make to render this annuiil
festival a help to our Trust Fund, and it must be very gratifying to them that*
they succeeded so well. In all our endeavours may we continue to seek the
assistance, and to aim at the honour of the blessed God.

On Lord's-day, February 1st, 1857, sermons were preached in our cha]pel,
OQ behalf of our Home and Foreign Missions ; in the morning and evening
by the Rev. Thomas Newton, of Bradford, and in the afternoon by the Rev*-
George^Mather (Wesleyan). On the following evening a public Missionary
meeting was held ; our esteemed friend, Henry Fowler, Esq. (Wesleyan),
occupied the' chair, and by his spiritual and earnest address gave a good tone
to the meeting* kh4r the readmg of the report the meeting was ably ad*
dressed by the Revs. O. Mather, J. T. Shepherd (Primitive), T. Newton, and
i. SL Nightingale, of Hull. According to our practice another m^ting^was.
held in the same place on the following evening, and that venerable andkmd-
bearted Christian-gentleman, Dr. Murray (Episcopalian), presided. Addiesses
were delivered by our respected brethren. Nightingale aud NeWion,.and.by^
the Hevs. D. Adam (Baptist), R. Balgamie (Independent), and Mr. C. Fearnei
(Wesleyan). The attendance at these services was better than usual, and the
collections esiceeded those of last year. Tbe 'Missionary meeting8»w«re ^re-
markably spiritual, earnest, and edifying. The children of God could look to
their Saviour and say, "Master, it is good for us to be here." Ho#* important
it is, in all our meetings to keep fully in view our own spiritual improvement,
the salvatipn of souls, and the glory of God. Of Ute sons© of our ordinary
services btve been marked bv more of the power pf (Jod than usual. Such
power ishnportant in the highest degree, it is essential" to 'success. May the
Holy Spirit richly descend upon us. Amen.

CnARtES R. HOPPEK*

ROCHDALE CIROXnT.

In forwarding an account of this Circuit, we have reason to rejoice that the
work of God is ia some measure progressing amongst us. For a length of
time we have felt the need of more vestry accommodation in Baillie-street,
and about a year ago the Trustees agreed to build. At each side of the
cbapel they have erected a neat and substantial building, at a cost of about
1000(^ towards which 400il have been raised by subscription : and on Lord's-
day, December 14th, 1856, two excellent sermons were preached by the Rev.
James Everett, of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, when collections were made on
bebalf of the Trust Fund, amounting to 196/. 4a. ed.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

150 Religiaus Intelligence.

Durine tbe Christmas holidays^ all the places in the circuit with one excep*
tion had tea-meetings. They were more numerously attended this year than
on former occasions.

On Sabhath-da^, January 11 th, 1857, two sermons were preached by the
Rev. M. Miller, ot Manchester, when collections were taken on behalf of the
Sabbath-school, amounting to 68/. 12«. %d. In the afternoon of the same day
an address was delivered by the Rev. H. Breeden, superintendent of the
circuit, to the teachers and scholars. There are 1100 scholars who receive
religious instruction in this school.

The annual tea-meeting of the circuit, was held in Baillie-street school-roooi,
on Tuesday evening, January 15th. There was a larger attendance than on
anv former occasion. More than 1000 persons sat down to tea. After tea the
public-meeting was held in the chapel. The Rev. H. Breeden took the chair.
The following gentlemen addressed the audience on^ subjects previously

Rev. W. H. Walker, and Mr. J. Mills—" The Christian Workman."
Rev. jr. Mather, and J. Petrie, Esq., sen. — '* The Christian Tradesman."
Mr. Thos. Schofield, and Mr. J. Butterworth— **The Christian Socialist"
Mr. John Ash worth, and Thomas Booth, Esq. — "The Christian Politician."
Rev. Jas. Sayer, and Mr. John Petrie, jun. — ** The Christian Philanthropist'
Rev. J. MoUneux, and John Hoyle, Esq.— "The Christian Sufferer."
The speeches were of a superior character, and will not soon be forgotten.

It was resolved, the one by Rev. J. MoUneux be forwarded to the Magazine

for insertion.*
Of late we have seen some souls converted to God, and are expecting a

more abundant outpouring of His Holy Spirit. J. Matkbb.

STOCKTON CIRCTJIT.
To the Editor, dear Sir,

I enclose a notice of a tea-meeting, which we held here lately. As a few of
us here have been struggling for some time to raise a cause in this town, and
have never sent any intelligence of our proceedings for the Magazine, we
shall feel much obliged if you can find a corner for the enclosed paragraph. It
is from the " Stockton and Hartlepool Mercury," for February 7th- A large
number of Magazines are taken here, and we are much pleased with them.
Our prospects are now very encouraging indeed. We began here in June
1853, with four members ; since then we have progressed, if not rapidly, at
least steadily to the present time. We now number about fifty members,
nearlv the whole of whom we have been the means of gathering trom Satan's
kingdom. We thank God and take courage. Thanking you for the instruc-
tion and pleasure that we monthly receive trom your excellent Magazines,

I remain. Sir, yours truly,

Middlesbrough, February lOth^ 1857. Thomas Hood, Local Preacher.

Weslbtah Association Tea Party.— The annual festival in connection
with the above body, was held in their chapel, West-street, on Monday even-
ing, February 2nd, when about 130 partook in company of the cup " that
cheers, but not inebriates." The provisions, according to the description of
one of the speakers, were ^ splendia," and seem to have given great satisfac-
tion* ^ It was stated that the whole was provided gratuitously by working men
— their bodv being composed entirely of that class, not naving any of the
affluent to help them out with their sovereigns or five pound notes. It must,
therefore, have been very gratifying to these hardy sons of toil to find their
verjr lauaable efibrts crowned with success. After tea, the Rev. £. Hey wood,
minister of the Association, delivered a lecture on ** John Wesley's Noncon-
formist ancestors, with sketches of their times." The lecture gave equal satis-
faction with the tea. Mr. Hey wood is one of those gentlemen who do not
confine themselves to the mere routine of what are considered their ** profes-
sional " or " ministerial " duties — who do not try to get clear by doing as Ultle as
they can for their flock, but who are anxious to do as much as possible. Hence,
in addition to mere sermonising^ he has got up a course of lectures upon the

* Mr. Molinenx's excellent address will appear next month. EniToa.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Religious Intelligence, 151

"Wesley Family/' and also wUlinglj^ gives his valuable services to other good
movements of the age; thus cherishing that spirit of which the vener-
able Wesley was possessed, who, when certain narrow-minded characters
told him he ought to confine himself to his district, replied, that he ** claimed
the whole world as his parish." We hope, as this is only the first of Mr.
Heywood's series of lectures, that the men and women of Middlesbrough will
show their appreciation of such a man by assembling in large numbers to hear
him on future occasions. During the course of his delivery, the lecturer gave
some admirable sketches of the time of Cromwell and Charles II., to which he
traced Wesley's ancestors ; pointing out that they belonged to that noble class
of men who, rather than *' conform " to that in which they did not conscien-
tiously believe, chose to be turned adrift bv thousands, and endure all the
girsecutions to which they were subject in the intolerant reig^ of the second
harles ; and concluded with the lines of Longfellow :-«
** Lives of great men all remind us

We may make our lives sublime.

And, departing, leave behind us

Foot-prmts on the sands of time ;

Foot-prints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing, mav take heart again."
After votes of thanks to the ladies, chairman, and lecturer^ the meeting
separated*

HARTLEPOOL.
To the Editor, dear Sir,

With vour permission, I will, as brieflv as possible, relate a little of the
doings of God and his people at Hartiepool, in this circuit

About four or five months ago our cause was ver^ low, our friends few, and
certainly our prospects were not of the most brilliant. We were not a little
downcast, and our only hope seemed to be in uniting with our friends the
Reformers, which formally we have done, but worship in separate Chapels.

Our highly esteemed minister. Mr. Hey wood, had nardly commenced his
labours in the circuit, when happily this state of things changed ; our congre-
gations began to increase, our friends were inspired with more energy, and the
goodness of God was made more manifest to us, that He will never leave nor
forsake.

On Sunday evening, 25th January last, a sermon was preached by Mr.
Heywood, in our chapel. Mount Pleasant, on " The late terrific gale." It was
announced as £8peciaUy to teamen, and I assure you it cheered the^ hearts of
our friends to see, how these hard-working and useful men flocked in crowds
to the house of the Lord. By six o'clock the chapel was comfortably filled,
hy half-past six it was crammed ; the aisles, pulpit stairs, and every available
sitting and standing place being occupied. And it was with feelings of a
peculiar nature, that we observed scores turn away, disappointed at not being
able to get into the chapel. Mr. Heywood preached a beautifully powerful
sermon, and spoke, in terms of great kindness and afiection, to those whose
friends had found a grave in the briny deep, during the late furious gale of
the 4th ult, and was listened to by the congregation with the most marked
and earnest attention to the close. After which, a public meeting was held,
when fh)m 150 to 200 persons stayed, and many evinced an earnestness about
things eternal, really astonishing, but truly delightful. We cherish the hope
that much good was done. The voluntary subscriotions at the door, amounted
to more than has on any previous occasion been collected.

We have great cause to be thankful for the present, and good reason to
hope for the future.

Hartlepool, Feb. 16, 1857. A. B. C.

SEAHAM, SUNDERLAND CIRCUIT.

OTJR JTJVENILB MISSIONARY BBRVICES.

In November last (Nov. 23rd 1856), we celebrated the services of the
sixth Anniversary of the Juvenile Missionary Society. The Rev. R.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

}%S^ Iteligieus Intetttgenei^

dheWjOf South SliieWs, preached three truly excellent serincms, on tlie
otjcafiicfn; This is th^ -fifth year we have heen favourfed with a visit from our
esteemed friend and one of our former pastors. The collections exceeded those
ctf previous years. On the Monday following a puhlic meeting was held, when
Wm. Dixon, Esa. of Sunderland, presided. After a few pithy remarks from
the chairman, the Rev. D. Rutherford addressed the meeting, and was fol-
Idwed'ljy the. Rev. J. Crowning, and the Rev. R. Chew, who ably advdcated
the Mission cause. An extract from the Report perhaps may not' he out of
place, hut Encouraging to the fnends of Missions.

*• ITie Committjee would express their gratitude to Almighty God for that
Mnd Providertce which has watched over them for the last six yeari, arid have'
pleasure in reporting that the amount received hy the children in* the school has
exceeded any former year, and that a larger amount of zeal and missiooary
spirit has been infused'into the young people ; the Committee trast^thit still
greater efforts will he made to send the Gt)spel to the morally destitute, and
that the latter day glory may' speedily be ushered in, when the knowledge of
'* the Lord shall cover the earth, as the waters cover the face of the great
deep." '

The Sabbath School Box ;... 2 2 6

Subscriptions and Collections ,. 9 16 3|

Total £11 18 ^9J

"A vote of thanks was given to the chairman for Che able manner in which
he conducted the business of the meeting, to which the chairman suitably res-
ponded; an invitation was given to the Rev. R« Chew, to come another year
and preach the annual sermons if Providence proloi^ed hitf- u»eful llfe.^ A
vote of thanks also was given to the Reir. R. Chev^ for hia excellent aerrices.
Mr. Chew responded. The benediction was pronounced^ and'thd meetiog
separated rejoidng in the God of Missions.

OUR CHRISTIIAS ffESTlVAL*

• We held our Anirual Festival on Christinas-day, to promote the interests of
our Sabbath-school, in connection with our very much beloved Zion, wor-
shipping regularly at Church-street, Seaham. The scholars were provided with
a comfortable Christmas tea, after which, they returned home cheerful, blythe
and merry. * ■ '

At Rv^ .o'clock a respectable coip pan v sat down tQ enjoy an excellent tea
provided for the occasion. After tea a public^eeting was held, when Mr. John
Wright, our very much esteemed and respected Superintenderit of the school,
was called to preside. The meeting was addressed by Mr. Wm. Leighton,
secretary to the school, and a well tried, and untiring friend, of Sabbath'
schools, *also, Messrs Atkinson, Yule, the Rev. £. Baden, ^arvd Captain G.
Harrison, of Newcastle. The whole of the speakers ably advocl^d the interests
of Sabbath-schools. Three chapters and a short piece of poeii'^^ere recited
by the following scholars, M. P. "Wright, Epistle of John,, chap, iii; J. G.
Phillips, Jsaiap, chap, liii: R. Greenwel)^ St. John's Gospel, chap, xiv:
Frances Phillips,B very little girl, recited a piece of poetry, entitled ** Preparing
for Sunday."

During the progress of the Meeting several anthems were sung by our
Tabernacle choir, who performed their parts to the satisfaction of a respectable
and attentive audience.

A vote of thanks to the chairman, the choir, and the ladies, for their excellent
services on the occasion, was moved by Mr. J. Storey; and seconded by Mr. F.
Nicholson, which was passed unanimously. The benediction was then pro-
nounced, and the audience separated highly delighted, and rejoicing in the
entertainment of a truly Christmas holiday.

We feel it due to our society, seat-holders, and a genefons public, to state
that our school is in a prosperous and thriving condition. During the past
year several of our senior scholars have united with the people of God, and
are now meeting in class ; we are praying and waiting for a fuller outpouring
of the influence of Divine grace on the school. May God hasten it, in the day
of his power. Thos. Nigsolsok«

Digitized by VjOOQIC

THE

WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE.

MAY, 1857.

THE POWER OF GODLINESS.

A Sebmok delivered on Sabbath Morning, August 2nd, 1856, in
Lady Lane Chapel, Leeds, (and published by request of the Annual
Assembly^ by the Rev. W. Jackson.

'< Haying a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof."

2 Tim. iii. 5.

This Epistle appears to have been written a short time before the
martyrdom of its author, the Apostle Paul, which is supposed to
have taken place at Rome, during the reign of the Emperor Nero.

In the seventh verse of the fourth chapter, we have the following
words : " I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure
is at hand."

Here is pointed allusion to the near approach of death, in some
form or another. Probably the Apostle had been condemned to
"lose his life for Christ's sake," in the holy cause, which he had so
powerfully, and successfully pleaded, and was now looking forward
to the speedy execution of that sentence. Under these solemn
circumstances he wrote this letter to Timothy, a young man, whom
the Apostle styles his own son in the Gospel, and who had been
appointed overseer of the Church at Ephesus. The letter contains
important counsel, addressed to Timothy respecting his own conduct,
and the management of the important work to which he had been
called, and also informs him of a general apostacy that should take
place in the **last days." The character of these apostates is
described in the chapter before us, one trait of which is contained
in the text — a form of Godliness professed, while the power thereof
is denied.

Let us endeavour, then, this morning, by Divine help, to illustrate
the gracious fact denied by these men; a fact, also, which is
practically ignored by thousands of professing Christians in our own
day. It is very common to meet with the form, or appearance of things,
in the absence of the reality, or the things themselves. The painter's
canvas presents us with a view of natural scenery, consisting of rivers,
lakes, and mountains ; but these things are only there in appearance ;
not in reality. In the statue of a man, we have the form and image
of a man, but not the conscious power of the living creature.
When, in reference to this subject we read of the " breathing marble,"
we recognise only a figure of speech. A piece of money often has

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

202 The Power of Godliness.

its counterfeit, and the spurious maj very correctlj represent the
true coin in form and appearance, but the counterfeit possesses no
commercial value, none of the power of money.

The character and conduct of a godly man are the creations and
natural expressions of a holy mind and heart. A godly man is
a good man, and the good man out of the good treasure of the
heart bringeth forth '< good things." The character of the good man
is the result of the foweb of godliness ; but his character may
be assumed, and his conduct imitated by others who are strangers to
this renewing power. This statement requires no proof. Unfortu-
nately there have always been, and still are many persons in the Chris-
tian church who maintain a form of godliness, but deny the power
thereof. They form religious opinions, and those opinions nuiy accord
with the teachings of holy Scripture: their outward conduct also
may be in unison with the exteiiials of religion. The house of God
is frequented on the Sabbath-day, where they profess to worship, by
a scrupulous observance of the prescribed form. Like Jehu also they
profess a zeal for the Lord of hosts, which sometimes displays itsdf
in bitter and relentless persecution. But however correct the
theological knowledge of such persons may be, or minute their
observance of religious forms, — their private life, ofien their public
acts betray their utter destitution of the power of godliness. They
have not been made free from the law of sin and death, by the law
of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, they bring not forth the fruit
of this Spirit, fruit which is ''in all goodness and righteousness
and truth." On the contrary, the works of the flesh are manifest
in their unholy tempers, and unrighteous actions, unite in revealing
the absence of godliness in its hallowing and soul-renewing power.
Let us endeavour, then, this morning to show, that godliness has
potoer^ as well as form.

L In illustration of this doctrine we first direct your attention to
the comparisons employed in the Scriptures, expressly designed to
set forth the nature and effects of true religion.

1. It is a well of water. One of the most beautiful and useful
objects ia nature. But '' a well of water springing up into everlasting
life." The pure life-giving stream, is plenteous in its source and most
gracious in its effects. What an expressive emblem is here of the
spiritual life of a good man ; both as it regards its divine origination,
amidst the sin and darkness of this world, and its consummation in
purity and happiness of heaven.

2. Religion is like the wind — ^a powerful, but invisible agent. This
simile is employed by the Redeemer, in his conversation with the
celebrated *' Master in Israel," Nicodemus, on the nature and effects
of the new birth.

3. The Prophet Malachi foretells the coming of the Messenger of
the Covenant, and in evident allusion to the nature of his work
declares, ^' He shall sit as a refiner, and purifier of silver, and he shall
purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they
may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness." In this pas-
sage religion, in its power to cleanse and renew depraved human

Digitized by VjOOQlC

The Power of God&inessl 203

nature, thus consecrating it to the spiritual service of God, is com*
pared to the action of fire in the purification of metals.

4. The kingdom of heaven is also likened to a grain of mustard
seed, which, although one of the smallest of seeds, yet when cast into
the earth grows into a large plant.

The principle of vital power, so mysteriously wrapt up in that
thing of diminutive size, is strikingly embodied and developed in the
growing tree. In like manner the seed of the Divine word, when
received into a honest and good heart, produces a holy life ; and the
man who before was free from righteousness, and the servant of sin,
is now free from sin and the servant of righteousness. What a gra-
cious— ^what a glorious change ! one, too, which it is the privilege of
all to feel and know.

The kingdom of heaven is further compared to leaven, which a
woman took and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was
leavened. As soon as the leavening substance had been deposited, it
began silently but efiectually to operate until it had affected the entire
mass. So the power of godliness controls the whole conduct, and is
felt through every faculty and affection of the soul.

Such, then, are some of the comparisons used by the sacred writers
to illustrate tlie nature and effects of true religion. Life and power
constitute the most prominent feature in them all. Such language
could not be truthfully employed, therefore, if godliness consisted in
a mere form — however attractive and imposing that form may be,

n. The power of godliness receives further illustration from the
literal terms in which the reformation of character produced by it, is
expressed, mingled as they are with figures of another class. The
change is obviously the most thorough and complete, as the following
language proves «: "At that time ye were without Christ, being
aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the cove-
nants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world : but
DOW in Christ Jesus, ye who sometimes were far off*, are made nigh by
the blood of Christ." — " And you, that were sometimes alienated and
enemies in. your mind by wicked works, yet now hath He reconciled
in the body of His flesh through death, to present you holy and un-
blameable and unreprovable in His sight." — " But God who is rich
m mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we
were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ — ^and hath
raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in
Christ Jesus." — " If any man be in Christ he is a new creature." He
having been ** bom again " — " not of blood nor of the will of the flesh,
nor of the will of man, but of God." And that which is " bom of the
Spirit is spuit."

It is not in the power of language to describe a greater and more
blessed change than this : every godly man, daily realises it in his
own experience, and proves to others its genuineness by a holy lifeu
The external circumstances attending this change are much diversified
in different individuals, but the successive states of mind are essen-
tially the same, through which all must pass in their progress to one
common state of spiritual life and liberty. There is in all, the broken

p 2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

204 The Pawer of Godliness.

heart — the contrite spirit — a loathing of self and sin — faith which
justifies and obtains peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ
If religion were a mere form— if it consisted of a number of outward
rites, could it either renew the heart or reform the life ? As soon
might we expect a painted fire to warm, or a statue to perform the
functions of a living creature.

The power of godliness is further seen in the influence which its
subjects exert on the world around them. " Ye," said the Saviour
addressing his disciples, " are the salt of the earth" — " the light of the
world." Salt is well known for its seasoning properties. Its influence
is powerful and diffusive. Good men are in the world, to recover
and preserve the world from its " corruptions," for it " Ueth in wick-
edness." They place it under the corrective operation of a holj
example. Their humility rebukes its pride, their purity holds in
check its sensuality, and their self-denying benevolence condemns
its selfishness and insatiable love of gain. Good men are the light of
the world. The light of the Gospel of Christ is reflected from them
on the darkness of this world, and it is the property of light to dis-
cover or make manifest. The men of the world recognize nothing
but visible things — a portion for '' this life." Christian men are living
witnesses for God, a spiritual life, and the reality of a " world to
come." They are the subjects of a faith which is the substance of
things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Good men are the
soldiers of Christ, who wrestle not with flesh and blood, but with
principalities and powers, and spiritual wickedness in high 2>laces.
They resist if need be, even unto death, striving against sin. The
power of godliness is strikingly displayed in the ceaseless and uncom-
promising opposition of Christian men to moral evil, in all its Tarious
and ever shifting forms. No matter how specious and fashionable
these forms may be, or how respectable the persons and places in
which they are found. They cannot have any fellowship with the
unfi*uitful works of darkness, but must reprove them ; for they love
the Lord and therefore hate evil. The arduous nature of this con-
flict, and the importance of its results, are shown in the numerous
exhortations to endurance and faithfulness ; and in the gracious pro-
mises made to them that overcome. This overcoming is spoken of as
a victory — a triumph. If godliness were a form only, a mere " ques-
tion of words and names," such terms would be most false and delu-
sive. In what good, or true sense could it be said %o resist^ to over-
come, to triumph ? The comfort and support yielded by true religion
under affliction and persecution, are further proofs of its power. Good
men have often been the subjects of one or the other of these evils.
And to suppose that in a world like this, any degree of moral or
spiritual excellency can exempt from either, is a great mistake. The
^orld, notwithstanding its boasted enlightenment, has not ceased,
even in our day, to hate true religion. Indeed, it not unfrequently
happens that those persons are made to feel its hatred most, who best
exemplify, in their spirit and conduct, the purity and integrity of the
Christian life. In ages past, and for many ages in succession, how
furious have been the world's attacks on God's most holy servants.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Power of Godliness. 205

It has spared neither their character, their property, their liberty, nor
their life. The altered circumstances of our own favoured country,
no longer afford an opportunity to torture and burn for righteousness'
sake ; contempt and slander ofien now supply their place, displaying
the same spirit of enmity. The world may not now be able " to kill
the body," but it can still c^st out the name of a good man as evil,
and with a derisive sneer sarcastically call him '' saint** Has godli-
ness " power " to support under slander, the loss of property and
liberty, and also in prospect of a violent and cruel death ? Ask the
Apostle Paul, and attend reverently to his noble answer. " And now
behold, I go bound in the spirit unto Jerusalem, not knowing the
things that shall befall me there : save that the Holy Ghost witnesseth
in every city, saying that bonds and afflictions abide me, but none of
these things move me ; neither count I my life dear unto myself, so
that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have
received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the grace of God.'*
Ask the same witness, when the day of actual trial came, and the
executioner's axe gleamed before him, and we obtain the following
answer : " I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure
is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I
have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of
righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at
that day, and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his
appearing,"

The servant of God did not cower before the storm ; there was no
throbbing of the heart through fear. He is fully sustained, and even
enabled to triumph in the hour of mortal conflict. The Christian is
exposed in common with other men to the ordinary troubles of life,
in addition to the sufferings sometimes infiicted by persecution. It is
frequently his lot to be cast on the bleak shore of poverty and adver-
sity, where he is exposed to the '* pelting of many pitiless storms " ;
for poverty has many privations and sorrows, peculiarly its own.

Family and personal affliction also, has sometimes increased this
burden. Under its crushing weight he may have hastily said, in the
bitterness of his grief, '^ The wicked are not in trouble as other men,
neither are they plagued like other men." But this language is almost
as soon disowned as uttered ; for it expresses sentiments that are
false and ungrateful ; both of which he regards with loathing. The
good man has faith in God, as the governor of the world, as well as
faith in Christ as the Saviour of the world. This faith yields the
peaceable fruits of righteousness, and opens the fountain of Divine
consolation. It sheds a true light upon his path in the darkest day,
during the stormiest night. It inspires him with a trust in the wisdom
and goodness of our God and Saviour ; so firm, so rational, that he
is able to adopt the strong, though beautiful language of the Prophet,
'^Though the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the
vines ; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no
meat ; the flocks shall be cut off firom the fold, and there shall be no
herd in the stalls. Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the
God of my salvation."

Digitized by VjOOQIC

206 The Power of Godliness.

Grodliness has power to sustain in death. When the heart and flesh
are failing, then God is felt to be the strength of our heart and our
portion for ever. This is the last illustration we shall notice this
morning. For many true reasons death has justly been named the
king of terrors. This momentous event dissolves the human body,
and breaks asunder all those tender and affectionate bonds, which
unite us to earth. Our love of family and friends, is painfuUy inter-
rupted, and the conviction steals over us that these sweet relationships
are about to end, or at least that precise form of them, in which some
of our holiest earthly affections, and interests have been embodied.
The familiar walks of daily life, and daily duty, are about to be for-
saken for ever, with all those pleasant scenes and circumstances of
X)ur present being, which the change of seasons, and the sweet inter-
change of day and night, produce. Our Sabbath-day work, and
worship, have been a delight, but they are now all over and past. The
body, which we have nursed so long, is soon to be borne away to "the
land of darkness, and the shadow of death ; a land of darkness, as
darkness itself ; and of the shadow of death, without any order, and
where the light is as darkness." The spirit must return to God who
gave it, where it is awaited by a new and untried state of existence.
To make light of so great a change as this, with all its solemn cir-
cumstances, is not creditable, either to the head or heart of any man,
much less to affect indifference about the continuance of his being at
all in another world —

" Annihilation is a monstrous wish.
Unborn, till virtue dies.

But great and tremendous as the change is, godliness has power io
support the Christian, even in prospect of death. The Holy Scrip-
tures contain clear and direct statements respecting the safety of the
righteous, in, and their eternal happiness after death. ** I give unto
them eternal life," said the great Shepherd of the sheep, " and they
shall never perish." Not only are life and immortality brought to
light by the Gospel, but this life and immortality, are secured to
every godly man, by the immutable promise of Him who cannot lie.
On this promise the good iaan confidently relies amid the silence and
gloom of his sick chamber, the sorrow, and tears, and painful partings
from friends and family, and the dissolution of the earthly house of
this tabernacle. He descends into the grave with the assurance that
his flesh shall rest in hope, and that God will redeem his life from
the power of the grave, and will receive him. Whether the good
man is sustained in ^' his final hour," by the power of his religion, is
not a matter of opinion, but a matter of fact. Thousands of the
most prudent, thoughtful, and intelligent, of our race, in many ages
and countries have been so sustained. Individuals who could not he
charged with ignorant credulity, or unreasoning fanaticism, have
calmly and thoughtfully, in the solemn silence of a dying hour, com-
mended their spirits into the hands of the Lord Jesus. And not
unfreqently, has this been attended with a holy joy, exceeding in
fulness all their past experience. And we most devoutly thank God}

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

The Christian's Great Work. 207

that sacb experience of the power of godliness to comfort, at a
time when all earthly comforts must inevitablj fail, is not confined to
^J ^^ country, or condition of life. It may be realized by the
young disciples of Christ, dying in the morning of their days ; it
reaches the poor Christian, dying in his poverty, as did Lazarus ; or
the aged servant of Grod, who has borne the burden and heat of the
day, and who may be sinking into the grave under the weight of
years, like Simeon of old, whose words, in many respects, are expres-
sive of his condition ; " Now LordJ lettest thou thy servant depart in
peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation."

In confirmation of these things, many facts are now frequently
occurring m connection with the death of Christians in almost every
condition, — ^fiacts which have constrained many thoughtless and irreli-
gioas persons, to desire for themselves the death of the righteous, and
that their last end may be like his.

My dear friends, how many of you are found this morning, desti-
tute of the power of godliness ? You have tlie form only. But what
does this avail you in the midst of the sober and stem duties of every-
day life, with its difficulties and dangers ? But it will avail you less,
if possible, in the hour of death, and in -the day of eternity. Think,
I beseech you, think of the delusive nature of your state and pros-
pects. The kingdom of God is not in word, but in power ; you are
not, therefore, the subjects of that kingdom. And whatever advan-
tages you may suppose you now gain by your fair show in the flesh,
the time is coming when nothing less than the power of godliness will
serve you, — when you must utterly perish without it. You who now
possess true religion, hold fast this pearl of great price, and you shall
shortly prove its inestimable value in the hour of death, and reap its
fuhiess of blessing in the world to come.

THE CHRISTIAN'S GREAT WORK.

**I am doing a great work, so tliat I cannot come down : why should the work cease^
whilst I leave it, and come down to yon. Nehemiah It. s.

Ths above manly and spirited declaration was once made by a patriotic
and pious Jewish worker, to a company of mocking and crafty foes, who
soQght to seduce him from his work, of repairing the desolations of his
Deloved and sacred home. But for an extended detail of the circnmatances
▼e must refer the reader to the scriptural narrative.

In looking at this verse as the adopted language of every Christian, we
^y observe—

1* The Christian has a great work to accomplish.

Oar Divine Lord and Master, during his career upon the earth, seemed
ever to be possessed and burdened with the one idea—** I have a great work
jo do." Simikr to this was the conviction cherished by the early disciples of
the Lord, and one which was ever exhibited in their devout lives, and fervent,
"J^inff zeal, and similar fdso must be the true avowal of every redeemed
^•^^d of God. This work may be said to be twofold ; both internal and
^^'^^^mal^ personal and relative. As Christians, we are called to " work out"

Digitized by VjOOQIC

208^: The ChrUiiarCs Great Work.

under God, our own personal salvation, as well as the enlargement of the
Church of Christ. This double work we may well designate "^rca^,**a8
we shall hereafter attempt to show.

Firsts it is " great," in the sphere of its operation. This we find to be
the mind and soul, man's highest and noblest nature. And where, we
would ask, can you find so sublime, so important a field to cultivate
as this ? In contrast with this, the fairest spot on God's earth, or the
noblest work of human form, would be miserably vain and contemptible.
The soul of man has no less than Deity for its author, and a whole eter-
nity to its appointed life-time. Amid the exuberant wealth of the
vast creation, there is nothing upon which the Almighty has set so great
a value, as upon the human soul ! Which then commands our strongest
sympathies, our souls or our bodies 1 About which are we concerned the
most, our inward or our outward life ? Which business are we driving
with the greatest energy, our secular or our spiritual ? Alas ! brethren,
we do not belie the state of things when we aver that many are pushing
a terrible trade for future woe ; and would, oh, would to God, that they
might now ponder the path of their feet, and consider the perils which
are impending ; for ** what shall it profit a man, if he should gain the
whole world and lose his own soul." Our first and our greatest work,
then is to save our own souls, and in this may Heaven help us. And
then let our " great work," external to ourselves, be found ever in relation
to the souls of men. Whatever of bodily good we may now be doing, or
attempting to do, for our needy neighbour, and this is not to be neglected,
yet ever let it be our first, our deepest, our absorbing concern, to secure
the highest well-being, the salvation of his soul, and thus be ever stand-
ing ready to say to the wily seducer who would decoy us from our duty,
" 1 am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down, &c."

Secondly, The Christian's work is "great,** inasmuch as th9 merehj
human is totally inadequate for its performance.

If in proportion to the skill and strength necessary for any human
achievement, be the value and importance of the work when performed,
then what must be the worth and interest of that work, in the effecting of
which we are compelled to call down the wisdom and strength of Heaven.
Bring your most erudite scholarship, with the most extensive literary
attainments, the keenest and shrewdest acquaintance with human nature,
with the most potent and persuasive powers of oratory ; add to these every
other conceivable excellence and perfection of human thought and action,
and you shall find not the faintest voice, or motion respond to your effort^,
for it is " not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord."
In the great heart-work of our own personal salvation, our best and
most devoted efforts will be sickly and impotent, except as we are moved
and sustained by the mind and heart of Heaven. And dare we say other
than this, with reference to the "great work *' before us ? Men aie dying
in thousands by our very side, and within our sight and sphere of action,
without a knowledge of the blessed Gospel of Christ. Now we are posses-
sed of the instrumental means for their salvation ; but except as we
enlist the aid of Heaven, these means will only be ** clouds without
water, and wells without life," and our efforts a mockery, a delusion
and a sham. Commit yourselves anew then, my dear brethren, to this
"great** and commanding "work,** while with hearts reinflamed and
energies restrung, you forget not to invoke from "the four winds of
Heaven," the divine and saving breath.

Thirdly. The Christian's work is seen to be " great,*' in the potency of
the instrumentalities it wields,

"My kingdom," said the Saviour, "is not of this world." And an
Apostle could say, " the weapons of our warfare are not camaJ, but

Digitized by VjOOQlC

The Chrisdaris Great Work, 209

migUy throQgli God, to the pulling down of strongholds." And what is
more mighty, we would ask, than is truth f

Before its omnificand resistless progress, hoary and mammoth'institutions
have been rased to the ground, and giant errors been smitten with sickness
and death. And then as to value, a single grain of truth is worth infinitely
more than whole tons of error. But in tbe large and extensive realm of
trath, what is more powerful than moral truui 1 Other truths have a
value, and one not to be despised, but what is there to compare with those
truths which are concerned in the moral state and relation of men and
things, and their accountable relation to the Author of all ? And then of
moral truths, what is there mightier than the divine and mysterious truth
of Christ crucified 1 Of all the potencies in the moral world, not one is so
eminent as that generated by the cross of Christ ; this alone is '* the power
of God unto salvation." It is this truth, this power, that we are called to use
in the great work to which we are called. However feeble and poor may
be the worker, yet with this instrument, and the divine strength, "' thO'
worm Jacob shall thresh the mountains, and make the hills as chaff."

Fourthly, The greatness of the Christian's work is reflected in the
formidable opposition it enlists.

Whether attempting to work out his own salvation, or seeking the
salvation of others, the work is deemed of sufiicient moment by the evil
prince of this world, to awaken the most malignant and deadly hate,
and call forth the vast resources of His dark empire in opposi-
tion to it^ Not a day nor moment is there that passes, but our great
enemy ** goeth forth as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour ; "
80 that were there no other illustration than this, the fell enmity of hell
to the ^ work" of the Christian, would alone proclaim its character to be
important and " great."

Fifthly. The Christian's work is seen to be " great," in the amazing
cost of the arrangement, by which he is furnished with the needed strength for
his work, and possessed of the assurance that eternal felicity shall crown his
labours.

Not an effort could man make, not a single step could he take, but for
Christ having paid down as the ransom-price, his own most precious blood.
That costly donation of his own life was rendered absolutely necessary, ere a
single soul could be saved. Who then will dare to be indifferent to the " great
work " of salvation, in the light which streams from such a sacrifice ? Who
can be unconcerned in the salvation of men, as he views the scenes and
hears the sounds of Calvary's tragic scene ? The work must indeed be
" great," to have thus commanded the bestowment of so costly and trans-
cendent a gift, as that of our blessed and Eternal Lord. For this let the
Lord be ever praised.

Sixthly, The greatness of the Christian's work is further seen in the
unspeakable bliss it insures.

After all the eloquent and inspiring descriptions of the felicities of true
religion that have ever been given to man, its bliss is yet untold, its joys
still unconceived ; it is " the peace' that passeth understanding, and a joy
imspeakable and full of glory."

The Christian, whether keeping his own heart, and maturing his own
personal growth in grace, or whether labouring to extend the cause of
Christ around him, is equally helping to swell the tide of human bliss
below, and enlarge upon the earth the harmony of heaven. Who is there,
in confidence and authority, we would ask, that serves the best interests of
his fellows, so widely and so thoroughly as does the Christian ? Disarm,
unnerve, yea, extinguish the despised band of Christian workers in the
"vorld, and what would be the issue ? What ? why you would at once
destroy the small remnant of peace and true happiness which it possesses,
and place in their stead discord and woe.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

210 The ChrisHafCs Great Wori.

But on the other haiid, augment and strengthen this lUmtrioas but
slender army, and let it engage with a burning devotion in the great and
divine work to which the Lord hath specially called it^ and soon shall the
calm and purity of the earlier Eden he restored, and humanity be relieved
of its weight of sin and sorrow, and woe. This ^ work " is tiierefore the
greatest possible to all human effort, inasmuch as it yields a peace and
^oy, that transcends all eke below.

Seventhly, The Christian*s work is *^ great," in the permanence of Us
results.

The works of man in the material world, however stup^idous in size,
and durable in character, are nevertheless all doomed to an eventual decay;
and should any continue to survive when Time itself shall d^, even snch
shall witness a sure destruction in that great and awful day of the world's
conflagration. But the special and peculiar work of the Christian,
having to do with the immortal mind, shall ever continue to survive,
long as that mind itself shall live. The one single word spoken to the
sinner about Christ, may touch a chord whose vibrations in distant ages
shall be unspent, but be heard in the exultant song of a saint, before the
throne of the Lamb.

Do you, my dear brother, want the fame of accomplishing a work like
this 1 Would you have your name engraven upon an endurtnff tablet, the
tablet of a renewed spirit ? Then give up your entire, your undivided
self, to this '< great" and enduring work. Gird you anew with all the
earnest might of Heaven ; — be you inflamed with a consuming zeal for bouJs,
and " never stand still till the Master appear."

II. The Christian is not withotft inducements to withdraw from its
perjormance.

Look at Kehemiah and his work. This pious Hebrew worker, was beset
and tempted by Sanballat and others, who were extremely desirous to
draw him away from the work he had so nobly set himself to accomplish.
And so it is with every soul that is determined to do God's wiQ, for
he is —

" Surrounded by a host of foes,
Stormed by a host of foes within."

The great enemy of our souls will summon to his aid a host of agencies,
in order to weaken our hands and drive us from our work. The flesh will
plead its claim, with its desire for sensual gratification, whilst the love of
mdulgence and ease may ensnare us, except as we be watchful against the
crouching and waiting foe. Many of the strong and devout have nibbled
at this bait, and, alas, have been caught in the treacherous snare. Even a
saintly David was once thus wounded to his bitter and painful cost. How
many thousands of Christian professors have been slain by that curse and
bane of the church, the love of strong drink ? They have dared to launch
upon this mighty rapid, nor have they stayed in their fleshly and fatal
course until their whole man has been plunged in an abyss of infamy and
woe. Their loathsome breath, with a stench like rottenness itself, has pro-
claimed aloud to their brethren, their diseased taste, and their incipient
woe. Not only thus, but in many other ways, will the flesh attempt the
seduction of our souls from our work.

Sometimes an inflated sense of self-sufficiency will aspire to our control,
and thus restrain and render powerless our efforts, by withdrawing our
reliance from our only source of strength ; for we are only strong, just in
proportion as we realise the aid of the Divine arm. Let us but fell Aerc,
and we shall assuredly fail in doing our " great work," both in reference to
our own salvation, and the extension of the Kedeemer's kingdom.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Christian's^ Great Work, 211

Sometimes ure discover an inordinate craving after ereature favour to be
a treacherous foe to Christian progress. Many thousands of Christian
professors have unhappily been seduced to the lap of this fell Delilah, and
have there submitted to be shorn of their Samson > locks of spiritual
strength. They have studiously avoided being charged with an over-
anxiousness and zeal in spiritual matters, and they have been promptly
rewarded for their pains, by the sad withdrawment of the Divine Spirit.
They have counted the flesh-fiivour of their ungodly employers, or per-
chance of their patrons and customers in business, an^^have by them been
sold over to the enemies of the Lord. *' Know ye not that the friendship
of the world is enmity with God."

But ag^in, the Christian sometimes finds that the adversities of his state
toiU assail the weak side of his nature^ and thus seek to seduce him from his
one "great work.'* And, alas, how many have thus yielded to their grievous
and irreparable loss. Those very trials, privations, and losses, that are
the necessary tax upon our work, and which should ever sharpen our
energies and brighten our graces, are sometimes found in the hour of un-
guardedness and folly, to induce a yielding up of all to the fleshly and
earthly, and the " great work " upon which we valiantly entered, becomes,
in the end, dishonourably forsaken.

And so we shall ever find in our " great work," that many and varied
seducers will compass and tempt our withdrawment, coming sometimes
with the most pious pretences, and draped in the most specious and decep-
tive form. Stand then on your guard, my brother, against their stealthy
advance, and be ever ready, with a stubborn manliness of spirit, to reply
to the foe — " I am doing a great work," &c.

III. For the Christian to yield to these inducements would he both foolish
and criminal.

It would he foolish, inasmuch as his time for the performance of his ^* great
toorky** is both limited and uncertain. The holiest man living has an
appointed time for his stay here, nor is it in his power to extend it for a
single moment, when once the set hour of his departure has come. And
then how frail and uncertain is life ; it is but as *' the shadow of smoke."
We know not but that the next hour may close our allotted day for
work — for —

" Dangers stand thick through all the groand, to push ns to the tomb."
Wise indeed will it be for us, if, with a whole-souled earnestness, we
should reply to every seducer — " I must work the work of Him that sent
me, while it is called day," for "I am doing a great work," &c.

But further, it would be foolish and criminal, because we have been forC'
learned of the existence and fell purpose of our seducing foes. By the Scrip-
tures we have been thus assured, in various distinct and solemn state-
ments, and many painful examples and warnings. Nor have we been
without a personal experience of the painful fact, for we have known too
much and too often of the alien force arrayed against our inward Christian
progress, and then in our Christian efforts for the spiritual welfare of others,
we have but too frequently been called to prove — that ** legions of foes our
work oppose."

And further, the criminality of our yielding to these inducements will
be seen, in its being fraught with ruin to ourselves and others. Should
we fail to ^ work out our own salvation with fear and trembling," who
else could do it for us ; — and £a.iling thus, what other could we expect
than an unmitigated hopelessness and eternal woe ] And then with refe-
rence to the conversion of the ungodly masses around us, if Christian men
do not seek and labour to undertake this urgent work, by whom, we ask,

Digitized by VjOOQlC

212 The Christian's Great WarJU

oan the work be done ? Would not the blood of the slain cry out in tones
of thunder against such careless, slumbering souls ? Such inactive Chris-
tians might have ** the name to live,'* but what and where would be their
Jruit f And what better can be said of many Christian Churches ? They
have a ^^nanie" for orthodoxy — for order, for a scriptural liberty of
thought and action, but where is the fragrance and life, of a godly and
saving fruit ? We are thoroughly sick at heart of " names, and sects, and
parties.*' A hungry and dying world has been cheated by these miserable,
empty and high-sounding sul^titutes for the truth long enough. We have
been fencing about a few " head points," instead of seeking for heart-power.
The high winds that have raged in Zion, during the periods of nn ecclesi-
astic or polemic strife, have, alas, but too frequently kept up in the
heavens, the waiting and needed -shower of refreshment and grace. At
such times, when the world has knocked at Zion's gate for ** br^,** it has
been coollv shown "a stone," when it has called for "a fish," behold "a
serpent " has been offered.

Let the time past suffice, brethren, for such heartless trickery and
hypocrisy as this. Let us do our *' great work," both the inward and the
outward, with the sincerity and fervour becoming our exalted profesdon,
and never for a moment listen to the siren voice of the fair charmer, who
would strive to seduce us from its vigorous prosecution. In closing, there-
fore, let us here observe, that in yielding to these inducements so as to
withdraw from our work, we shall act in direct opposition to our belief—
our conscience and our interest ; and we scarce need to add, in opposition j
to our God. Let us up then, and awake, my brethren, and be piously 1
valiant for our God. On all hands, are we surrounded with inviting I
fields of useful labour ; fields of a true adaptedness to the varied types of |
mind, and every class of talent, found distributed over the vast human j

family. Tell us not as a cover for your sloth, that there is no work for j
you, that your sphere is restricted, or that your talents are slender ; there j

is a work for you, and a ** great work " indeed. If it is not to rule a king- I

dom — it is to rule your heart. If it is not to sway a sceptre of regal rule, '

it is to wield one of truth and love, over the hearts and consciences of your
fellows. If you are not called to minister in holy things at God's altar,
and sustain a teaching eldership in Zion, there are other posts of service j

inviting your help— the Sabbath-school— Tract distribution — visitation of
the sick — or privately warning and inviting your ungodly neighbours j

around. " The harvest truly ilb great, but the labourers," alas, "are" j
very — very " few." ]

'* Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might." Show not
the time-serving, fedtering, and sceptical spirit, that cripples and disgraces 1

the multitude, but " be strong in tne Lord, and in the power of his might,"
and come what will, resolve to be a great-heart in the ranks of ImmanueL |

Not only have a strong and a courageous heart, but a working heart : not \

one that can simply, yet sincerely cry — " Lord, what wilt thou have me to '

do '*" — but one that can ever truthfully and boldly declare — " I ah doing a
great work." The resolute, daring, and constant worker, is a character
of which the world stands greatly in need. And well would it be for the
cause of Christ and his Gospel, if an enlargement of such characters were
now witnessed in the ranks of the militant Israel.

Young man, as you have been reading these pages, have you felt an in-
ward kindling— the stirrings of a Divine fire in your breast ? Have there
been rising before you, the valiant and devout worthies of the past, whose
names are " as ointment poured forth," and whose pious works still follow
them here, and speak in our ears ? Have you felt the desire— yea, the
conviction— that you not only should, but mag do something "great" for
God and your fellows, and ring your name in the drum of the world's ear ?

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

The Value of a Wise and Faithful Servant. 213

Then delay nofc, nor be disheartened by the hindrances around. Tiiink of
a limloerd, a Martyn, a Spenoer, a M^Cheyne, and others, who though
removed hence in early life, were yet distinguished by the performance of
a " great work, " at an age when others hardly begin to think of putting
on the harness. Pledge the unmeasured might of your whole being to the
Lord's " great work," and in the freshness and ardour of your youth,
render up yoarself freely to His service " who hath bought you with his
blood." And let us, my brethren, who are already in this work, whatever
be our post in JerusuJem, never grow so weary and faint in our spirits, as
to think for even a moment, of retirement therefrom, but ever let us strive
to cherish and manifest the spirit of the good and devout Nehemiah, and
with a manly and fearless soul declare, in presence of the many Sanballats
of the day—" I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down : why
should the work cease, whilst I leave it and come down to you ?"

E. D. G.

THE VALUE OF A WISE AND FAITHFUL SERVANT.

" Prayers and pains will do aaythia^."— Dr. Cb A.LMRas.
Among the many pleasant places and beautiful scenes in Scotland, there
is one which has often been greatly admired by travellers, when they have
had occasion to pass that way. In their drive from an ancient and castel-
lated town, they wend their course eastwards, having a fertile plain on
their right, and on their left a range of verdant hil£ (one of the most
pleasing groups, perhaps, in all Scotland), along the base of which the
road proceeds, intersecting some thriving manufacturing towns, and on
each side exhibiting to view a variety of elegant mansion-houses and
country seats. At the distance of twelve or fourteen miles, they reach
a peaceful valley, and suddenly there comes in sight a handsome Grecian
building, which they find to be a literary academy, situated in the centre
of a straggling village, and having a very interesting history connected
with it. The village is overlooked by the grim ruins of an old castle, which
also has a history, associated with times long gone by.

About half-way down this drive, the travellers, cannot fail to observe
an elegant modern mansion-house and park, and near the side of the road,
a small enclosure, which is the burial place of the family who formerly
inhabited the house.

Within that mausoleum repose the ashes of a lady, once the mistress
of the mansion— the pride and ornament of the place — a person of most
estimable character — accomplished, thoughtful, and devout — who, in
giving life to a son, lost her own, and was most sincerely lamented by the
rich and the poor of the whole district, and throughout the circle of her
many friends. There can be no doubt that, " as her soul was in departing,"
she committed her infant to the care of Him who, when father and mother
are removed, takes the children up.

Circumstances led to an arrangement by which the child came to-be the
special charge of " a wise and faithful servant" of the family, who watched
over him with an assiduity and affection which could have been surpassed
only by those of a mother. He grew up, and was sent to school, and the
only preceptor or private tutor that he had during the earlier period of
his education was this excellent and worthy woman. When he entered
upon the higher departments of youthful learning, she could not, indeed, as
in his earlier years, follow or guide him in his studies, yet she contrived to
make sure that he never went to any of his classes without his haying
been perfectly prepared for the exercises of the day, and she strictly
superintended everything connected with his food, his clothing, and his
comfort in all respects.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

214 The value of a Wise and FaUkful Servant.

Under the wise and fidthfiil training of this person, the jonng man,
possessing naturally excellent abilities, acquired that without which,
nowever, the highest talents are often of no avail — the strictests habits
of diligence and application. He became a pupil in two distinguished
classical seminaries in the Scottish metropolis, and in them he attained
the very highest distinction. One of these Institutions, particularly, feels
the utmost pride and gratification in having contributed to rear such a
youth, whose highest honours he gained while attending its classes, and at
whose annual exhibitions he has frequently since then attended and presided.

From his high position at the acaudemy he removed to one of the Scottish
universities. Thither his faithful female attendant accompanied .him, and
watched over him during a course of study, characterised by all the
steadiness and earnest application that -had marked his former years, and
where also he secured the greatest distinction.

From the Scottish college he proceeded to take his place in one of the
English universities. To this place, however, his faithful guardian could
not accompany him, save with her wishes and her prayers. She had done
her best to prepare him for all the future of his life, and ushered him upon
his new path with the firmest confidence in his character, and the highest
anticipations as to his after history. She lived for several years in the
familv to whose youngest scion she had been such a signal blessing, respected
by all, and at her death was mourned over by none more sincerely than bj
the object of her early, long, and watchful care.

At the English university the youug man became also distinguished, and
his whole course was one of uniform and steady progress. He took orders
in the Church of England, and from his high attainments in classical
learning, and the general weight and depth of his character, was selected
to be the head of one of the most celebrated schools in England, and was
afterwards called to an eminent position in connection with one of its cathe-
drals, where the value of his services, the excellence of his public discourses^
and his exemplariness in private life, have secured for him the veneration
and esteem both of the Church and of the whole community.

With what deep and sympathetic sorrow did every one, during the last
winter and spring, hear of the severe and successive bereavements which
this good man had to suffer in his family — five daughters being cut off, by
one fell disease, in the course of a few weeks ! Yery seldom has such an
aggregate of affliction fallen upon one household, but never was there
awakened a more profound or universal feeling of sympathy in the breasts
of all to whom these sad tidings came.

Now, of what places— of what persons— is all this recorded ? The
question shall be answered with all plainness. The old castellated town is
Stirling — the drive eastwards from it is by what is called the HUl-foot
Koad, at the base and on the south side of the Ochils — the valley, the vil-
lage, and the Provincial Academy are those of Dollar — the overtopping
ruin is Castle Campbell— the modem mansion house is Harvieston — the
lady that adorned it was the daughter of Sir Hay Campbell, formerly the
President of the Supreme Court of Justice in Scotland — her husband
a gentleman of extensive practice in the profession of the law— the metro-
politan seminaries are the High School and Academy of fklinburgh— the
Scottish university that of Glasgow — the English one, that of Oxford— the
school of learning, Rugby, formerly presided over by Dr. Arnold — the
cathedral office, the Deanery of Carlisle, once held by the celebrated
Dr. Milner — the name of the "wise and faithful servant" was Bettt
Morton, whose name and worth can never be forgotten by him who was
so much and so long the object of her wisdom and fidelity — and who
himself is no other than Dr. Archibald Tait, now the Bishop of London.
Edinburgh, R. P. in the Monthly Messenger.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

215

BIOGRAPHY.
MR. CHARLES GREEN, OF WINCHESTER.

Died, on January 25, 1857, Mr. Charles Green, aged seven tj-tkree, at
St John's Hospital, in Winchester, a comfortahle Asylum appropriated for
the benefit of aged citizens.

Onr departed Brother in his jonth was gay, and lived after the course
of the present world, following its maxims, and seeking his happiness in
its pleasures.

His first awakenings of a serious nature took place about forty-five years
ago, under the ministry of the late Rev. Joseph Taylor, who then travelled
in the Southampton Circuit, of which Winchester formed a part. His
conversion was clear, and the consistency of his conduct manifested and
showed forth the grace of God, who had called him out of darkness into
His marvellous lignt. That conduct was seen in his deep decision and con-
stant perseverance in the heavenly path. He turned not aside to the ri^ht
or to the left, but was constantly, like his Divine Lord and Master, going
about doing good, looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of his
faith. He kept his eve constantly on his copy. For many years he
laboured acoording to his ability, in making known those truths to others,
that had been made the power of God to his own salvation.

Our late Brother loved the cause of Gbd, and for many years according
to his ability, liberally supported the same. His love was of that nature
that was manifest in action. If all members of the Christian church were
actuated by the same love, and gave the same proof by willing heartiness
in its support, we should not so frequently hear of the complaint of the
insafficiency of the means to carry on the work of Qt)d. Our friend might
with the greatest propriety be termed a benevolent man. Distress in any
and in every form, was sure to find in him a sympathizing friend. He
often put himself to much inconvenience in order to relieve such, and when
nnable to do so himself, has had recourse to others on their behalf. Though
often imposed on, yet this made no difierence in his conduct. He was
largely the instrumental means of establishing, through the benevolence
of many worthy individuals, what is termed the Winchester Refoge ;
an Asylum devoted to the reclaiming of females who have wandered from
the path of rectitude, and to whom few lend an helping hand to rescue
them from woe, either in this or the other world. To this good work the
energies of our dear brother, the last few years of his life, were largely
devoted in visiting the public houses, those dens of iniquity, where those
nnhappy individuals chiefly resort, in leaving Tracts and the like at these
places. At this Institution, he, in conjunction with a clergyman of the
Establishment, regularly conducted a religious service on tne LordVday
afternoon.

The Institution, if not so successful as might have been desired, and what
Institution does actually accomplish all thiat it contemplated, has never-
theless, had cheering success ; success sufficient to show the loving-kindness
of Him who came to seek and to save that which was lost. Many have
been restored to society and to their Mends, who will hold our friend in
grateful remembrance. He collected the subscriptions, and rendered
efficient aid in all the departments. He was a man more fitted for this
work than most. His place will not easily be supplied. He was a tried
man ; he was tried in his business, in the church, in his family : but he
bore it all with the greatest equanimity and composure. Under trial, he
would express himself, '* Jesas, thou source of calm repose," and the like
Unguage. He was a man of the most even temper. The writer, who

Digitized by VjOOQIC

2 16 Biography of Mr, Charles Green, of Winchester.

knew him for about forty years, and often saw him in trying dream-
stances, never remembers having seen him lose his temper ; he was men-
tioning this circumstance to one of his sons who corroborated the statement,
and said he had seen him grieved, but never out of temper.

His death was sudden, consequently nothing can be said of his dying
testimony ; an apoplectic seizure deprived him of the power of conscious-
ness and speech in the midst of health ; but he had given living testimony
of the power and goodness of God to save, and sudden death to him, was
only the messenger that removed him from this state of trial, to that
where tribulation is unknown, and death and sorrow is never seen ; many
die as suddenly, not as safely. He was largely esteemed and justly so by the
majority of his fellow-citizens ; it. is to that esteem he was indebted for his
admission into the Institution where he died. Nearly the whole of the
elergymen in the neighbourhood, to their honour, signed his testimonials ;
to many of them he was well known by his connection with the Kefuge
aforenamed, most of them and their connections being its principal sup-
porters. He was the first dissenter that had been admitted to the Insti-
tution as far as the writer is aware. He joined the Association soon after
its formation, and continued an accredited member till his death. Some
may be led to enquire, with all his excellences had he no defects 1— with
much that is light, were there no shadows ? — had he no drawbacks, no im-

Serfections, no errors ? — doubtless he had, for he was mortal ; he often, no
oubt, erred in judgment, and who does not? It might be expected by
those to whom he was intimately known, that some allusion in a sketch
like this, should be made in all faithftilness to circumstances that occurred
not long before his decease. It was well known our brother had conceived
the idea of again entering the marriage state, at his advanced age, and the
circumstances in which he was placed, appeared to most of his friends to
be a most injudicious step ; doubtless it was so; in this he no doubt erred.
This circumstance cast somewhat of a shade over his latter end in the
eyes of some ; it need not, it ought not to have been so ; the deed contem-
plated was not a sinful act, marriage is honourable in all, either old or
young ; it was simply an error in judgment, neither less nor more ; but his
work was done, and God took his servant from the evil to come in mercy;
if an evil it would have been.

The Kev. Mr. Thorn, the independent minister, conducted the funeral
service, and gave a very appropriate address on the occasion, and paid a
Christian tribute to our Brother's memory from many year*s personal know-
ledge of him.

His death was improved at Twyford, by Brother Bichardson, from Matt
XXV. 34, in an appropriate sermon, who spoke at the end to the Christian
character of our Brother, irom the best of all knowledge, personal ex-
perience, having formerly lived in his house, and seen his daily walk.

His death was likewise improved at Up Somborne, by Mr. S. Chamberlin,
where part of his family resided, and where he was well known, a people
to whom he carried the first tidings of salvation, which many members of
hifif family embraced, and a goodly number of them are now rejoicing in
its full fruition in the heavenly world. Many of our aged friends who
have borne the burden and heat of the day, have been removed from as,
of whom no account has appeared, the writer thought it not right that no
notice should be taken of our dear Brother, which made him venture,
though not used to such work, the present account.

Ehenezer Cottage,

Digitized by VjOOQlC

217

MR. JAMES ASHTON, OP MANCHESTER.

James Ashton, the subject of the present memoir, was born at Ashton,
in Mackerfield, on the 26th of January, 1804. His parents were moral
and industrious, of agricultural employment, and of high Church principles.
From early life he frequented the Church of England Sunday-school, of
which he became a teacher, and although his parents were not strictly
pious, yet they appear to have inculcated on their children moral prac-
tices and precepts.

When the subject of the present sketch was about eighteen years of age,
he and his companions, Ml of mischief and youthful frolic, agreed to go to
the Wesleyan chapel, to have, as they denominated it, " some sport," at the
door of which they fired off two pistols. Elated by this, which they cha-
racterised by the terms, "heroism and bravery," they returned on the
ensning Sabbath evening to renew their sport. On this occasion they agreed
to change the hats of as many of the congregation as they could, and thus
produce, what they thought — and which really would have been the case,
had the design been effected — considerable inconvenience and disorder;
bnt God was there, and that event, which was intended to end in fi'olic and
mischief, was overruled by Him, and terminated in the sound conversion of
the subject of the present memoir; reminding us of the beautiful sentiment
of Oliver Gtoldsmith, that

" Fools who came to scoff,
Renudned to pray."

A person of the name of Richard Yates, well known for more than ordi-
nary talent, was the preacher on the occasion. He was a farmer, and the
circumstance of a farmer preaching, being to our (then young and high
church) friend somewhat of singular occurrence, his attention was deeply
engaged ; so much so, that the design of their visit was comparatively for-
gotten. The text of Scripture selected was, " He that winneth souls is
wise;*' and treating, doubtless, in his discussion of this subject of the
intrinsic value of the human soul, and the wisdom of securing its present
and eternal interests, a deep and lasting impression was made upon Mr.
Ashton's mind.

On the termination of the discourse, and on his return towards home, ho
was miserable ; labouring under the most acute mental agony, so much so,
that coming to an oak tree, which grew by the lane side leading through
the fields to his father's house, he knelt down by its sturdy trunk, and offer-
ing up a prayer, with strong cries and tears, he sought the Lord for mercy ;
&nd, apprehensive of coming judgment and doom, he promised the Lord, if
he would spare him this time, he would lead a new life and devote himself
to God. Three months from this period he found peace. That ha^py
event occurring as follows : One morning, hearing that a prayer-meetme
was to be held in the house of a neighbour, he made up his mind to attend.
It was a summer evening, and walking through the fields towards the
place appointed, musing upon his disconsolate and wretched condition in the
sight of God, and the alarmingly dangerous position he stood in, if death
were to take place, he came to a gate, and leaning on the top of it, took
from his pocket a volume of Wesley's hymns. He opened at page 385, and
iua eye fell upon that beautiful hymn —

O joyful sound of Qospel grace !

Christ shall in me appear ;
I, even I, shall see his nuse ;

I shall be holy here.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

218 Biography of Mr, Jamei Askton, of Manchester.

This heart shall he his constant home ;

I hear his Spirit cry;
" Surely," he saith, «* I quickly come ;**

He saith, who cannot lie.

The readine of this heantifnl hymn imparted some degree of hope and com-
fort to his, hitherto, desponding soul; and on reaching the house appointed
for prayer, so full was he of longing desire after God, and so emholdened
by the dawning of the love of G^ upon his soul, and cheered by the first
beams of the ^ bright and the morning star," that he gave out the hymn in
the meeting and afterwards prayed, in deep and humble strains, for salva-
tion. The Lord heard—peace suddenly burst in upon him, his sorrow was
turned into joy, and he rejoiced in God his Saviour, " in whom he had now
redemption, even the forgiveness of his sins." He immediately afterwards
joined the Wesleyan Methodist Society, and leaving the Church of England
Sunday-school, became a teacher among the Wesleyans. For this step he
suffered much persecution from an enraged uncle, of high Church principles.
He was then employed by his uncle as manager of his business, who threat-
ened him with dismissal, if he did not immediately disconnect himself with
the Wesleyans.

This threat proving unavailing, his uncle sent for Mr. Ashton's mother,
and requested her to use her influence for the same end. This she did, for
one evening, when Mr. Ashton was on a visit to his mother, she did all she
could to persuade him to dissociate himself from them : but he boldly
refused, and said, that although threatened by his uncle with dismissal from
his service, he would still adhere to his resolution, and added, that he would
not labour on the Sabbath (which his uncle had wished him to do, until
service-time in the Church of England), remarking that, during the
six days of the week he would labour and do his best for his uncle, but the
seventh day was the Sabbath, and which was given to him by God, and the
whole of that day he would have,— adding this strange remark, and lifting
up his hands towards heaven : — " Mother, I will not sell Christ's blt>od for
bread, as long as I have an arm on my body !" From this period, all
attempts to persuade him to renounce the connection with the Wedeyaos,
were abandoned.

Six years after his conversion to Gk>d he became a class-leader in the
Wesleyan Society in Ashton, and zealously and efficiently prosecuted every
effort, not only for the spiritual interests of each individual member of his
class, but for the extension of the Redeemer's kingdom in generaL

Being naturally of a generous and social disposition his house was ever
open to receive tne various preachers ; showing no partiality or distinction,
but being always the most happy when snugly conversing in his homestead
with these messengers of the Cross, and rendering them all the social and
pecuniary help he could.

The memory of these seasons of social and religious intercourse were ever
fresh in his mind, and descended with him to the grave ; and the writer has
frequently heard him express the most flowing sentiments of esteem and
love for many with whom he thus associated, but who now, like himself,
are mouldering in the silent tomb, " awaiting the general resurrection ci
the just."

In the year 1831 he left Ashton in Mackerfield, and came to reside in
Manchester, On settling in this city, he immediately joined the Society in
London Road, and entered with his accustomed zeal into the labours of the
Sabbath-school.

During the struggle of 1835, when the whole of the Methodist com-
munity was agitated and convulsed by the introduction of an arbitrairand
despotic law, he felt it his duty to declare on behalf of the Ubeial and

Digitized by VjOOQIC

BiograjAy of Mr. Jam^ Ashton^ of Manchester. 219

reform party ; and although he did not stand prominently forth either as a
platform orator or pabllc exponent, yet he was ever active on committees,
and in the general working and carrying oat of the Keform sought. It was
he, who, on the very week of the schism, as it has been called, in con*
nection with a few mends, whom it is unnecessary here to name, took a
room, and opened it as a temporary Sabbath-school, in order to make pro-
vision for the children of the dejected members and detached congregations,
and thus secure their educational and spiritual interests.

On the building of the Association Chapel and L mdon Road District
Sunday-school, in the year 1836, he became one of its conductors, and con*
tinued so to be until the year 1341, when, in consequence of a deputation
waiting upon him, and soliciting his aid and influence on behalf of the
Orosvenor-street Society and School, he transferred his services, as con-
ductor and class-leader to that locality, and from that period until incapa*
eitated by serious illness, he continued to fill those onerous engagemeuts.

Perhaps, before entering upon the scene of his last sickness. Christian
experience and death, it would not be superfluous or unsuitable, at this stage
of the memoir, to give some traits of his character — for the illustration and
presentation of character are the main designs of biography. It is not to
show, merely, how the Christian died, but how he lived : how he, by
Divine help, obtained grace to exemplify, to live the life of Christ in thejiesh,
Iq doing this we shall notice his love for Christ and his Caurch, as seen in
the exceeding interest he took in the children of the Sunday-school. This
indeed was his sphere of labour, one for which he was most adapted,—
for which the Providence of God designed and fitted him. He had,
I am told, an aptness and facility in this field of labour, enjoyed only by
few} and these qualifications, sanctified by a sincere love for their souls,
gave him easy access to their hearts, and secured their attention, esteem, and
attachment.

But few men possess facilities for addressing youth. The more intellec-
tual are generally too elevated, and often soar beyond the powers and
apprehensions of their juvenile audience ; whilst the less intellectual or
ignorant, are too low^too beggarly^-in their ideas to create anything like
mental aspirations after knowledge and God. His method with the young
was to secure their attention by suasive means — and this is, in the writer's
hnmble opinion, the only way to be an efficient Sundat/school conductor.
The advice of D*Aabigne, in his ** History of the Reformation in Ger-
many," was followed by our departed friend, and it proved successful and
pleasing in its results. *' What we ought to endeavour to secure,*' writes
that celebrated man, " above all things is their hearts, and in order to that,
we must proclaim the Gospel. Then the sweet word will drop to-day in
one heart, and to-morrow into another, and will operate in such wise, that
each will withdraw from the vicious mass of society and forsake it altogether.
God effects more than if you and 1, and all the world, were to combine our
efforts. God seizes the heart, and when this is secured, all is secured^*

His love for the Church too, was equal to that of his love for the school.
He loved purity of doctrine and purity of discipline ; but yet all discipli-
nary, all church government, were by him to have a New Testament cna-
racter— a primitive aspect. No one more than he, accorded with the
sentiments of another celebrated writer, who says, ** If we would mingle
aoght of human authority with the absolute authority of Grod, or the Bible,
or aught of human righteousness with the perfect righteousness that is
through Christ, we vitiate Christianity in its two foundations.**

Sis patience and resignation. '*In patience possess ye your souls,** was
the advice of our Ijord, and we may truly say that such did our departed
and esteemed ft*iend. Nothing seemed to depress or to weigh heavily on
his spirits. Subject to his share of suffering— both social and commercial-^

Q 2

Digitized by VjOOQlC

220 Biography of Mr, James Ashton, of Manchester.

falling to the lot of humanity, he bore it ^ith Christian fortitade, and if
for a moment trials appeared to ruffle the ordinary placidity of his mind, it
indeed was only momentary, and all was again serene. So conspicaoua
were these features in his character, that men of the world, who knew
nothing of vital religion, or its regenerating and sanctifying power on the
heart and passions, haye been known to wonder and express their admira-
tion. And when asked by others, how Mr. Ashton bore up under pecuniair
losses and difficulties (for losses and difficulties he had), they hai^e replied,
'* O, he is as philosophical as ever, he takes all very calmly and composedly,''
little thinking that what they attributed to mere philosophy, was the pro^
duct only of the saving grace of God. His trust was in Providence.

No one was better assured than he of a secret, yet Divine hand, p;oveni«
ing and controlling the affairs of the world and of men. And in that
special and guiding Providence, he was ever disposed to confide his aU.
Having trusted his soul to God, he could also trust his circumstances and
affairs. Hence that contentedness and composure of mind, so habitual to
him. For what can possibly give greater contentment and resignation to
the Christian mind, than to know that Almighty God, in every incident
during life, exercises a guiding and overruling hand, and in His sacred
word has affirmed ** that all things shall work together for good to them
that love God/' As was said of a disinguished patriot, so also it might be
said of him, " That he passed through scenes and sufferings, which would
have broken the heart of many a man, or frozen him into a misanthrope,
or soured and corroded him into a demon." He was gentle, affectionate,
good tempered, benevolent, sanguine, and hopeful in all circumstances.
Whenever he got into trouble, he became possessed with the conviction that
some special good was in store for him, and the darker the sorrow, the
stronger grew the presentiment that joy was to follow. He was, in conse-
quence, he said, '' One of the happiest of men." And well he might be, for
such a way of looking at things, literally converted every cloud that darken-
ed his horizon, into a shadow of good things to come.

His strict morality. A man of unimpeachable morality ; being a living
exemplification of the practical power of evangelical and saving religion.
His ^* light shone," and men seeing his good works, " glorified God, who is
in heaven." If conduct, if consistency of character, with profession, if the
outward life be the reflex of the " inner man," and " if by their fruits we
are to know them," then all who knew our departed friend, must acknow-
ledge him to have been a Christian indeed.

Sis social .and domestic character. Here he was a pattern for idl to
follow, a character for all to imitate and emulate. He ruled his house in
love, — yet not that blinded and mistaken love which overlooks or connives
at faults, or cloaks sin. No! but love characterized by order, and that
enjoined obedience. Love that governed as well as embraced, that expected
reciprocal returns, due and loving submission to parental rule and authority.
His love for his children was intense, yet judiciously exercised and exhibited
«— full and from the heart, yet moderated by due and becoming prudence
and restraint.

His experience of religion. It was sanctifying and saving. He carried
within him, in the " inner man," the regenerating grace of God. and that
grace continually imparted aspirations after God and holiness. The temper
and the passions were, generally speaking, under the control of this power-
ful principle. It is true, his experience of religion was not of that raptur-
ous character enjoyed by some. It presented few varieties, few changing
scenes ; it was one regular, steady, approximation to God and holiness.
Not? the ebulition of occasional joy and ecstacy — not now on the heights of
Pisgah, viewing the glories of the celestial city, and ravished with its prosr
pect, and to-morrow down in the valley — '< in the slough of despond." ile

Digitized by VjOOQIC

piographff of Mr. James Ashtoh, of Manchester, 221

ran the race, the Christian race, hut not as many do — to-day very swiftly
and passionately, and to-morrow fainting, or faJling, or relapsing, — and
thus Datarally losing time and ground, and having to start anew in the
race. His was the race of godly principle, not of transient passion ; a race
constantly progressive, onwards, though perhaps not swiftly, hut surely ;
and now, having arrived at the goal, he has won the prize, secured the
crown, and has sat down at the right hand of God.

His views and feelings on the prospect of death. Death had no terrc ra
for him, he feared not the approach of the dread monster; and yet, although
he feared him not, knowing that all was right and his interest in Christ
secured, he clung to life with a tenacity not often witnessed in the experi-
enced and prepared Christian. Death to most is appalling, to him it was
not; but yet he wished to live, ho wished his pilgrimage protracted,
although attended with much sorrow and suffering. But, however this
may be accounted for, of one thing we are certain, that our departed friend
feared not, dreaded not death ; but was prepared to meet him, to grapple
with his final enemy, and to conquer.

His illness -and death. The first attack of illness which Mr. Ashton had,
and which ultimately terminated in death, was in the year 1850. He had
gone with the scholars on Whit-Thursday, and it becoming exceedingljr
wet, and sympathising with the children, he collected as many as he possi-
bly could under a large cape he wore, trying to protect them from the
descending rain. The labour and anxiety consequent upon the exertions of
that day were too much for him. What with the teeming rain, and the
profuse perspiration he experienced by being over crowded, he took a very
serious cold, and the day following, when at Adlington, became much worse
—so much so, that he had to hasten home. From this time till Christmas
1854, he b'ngered on, though partially able to attend business. When he
had another attack, much more violent than the former one, which so
wrought upon his constitution, that besides being confined to the house for
six weeks, he never was perfectly restored.

On the 29th of May, 1866, he had the third and last attack. This took
place in the street, and so violent was it, that he had to lean against some
buildings, or otherwise would have fallen to the ground. In this emergency
a passing friend observed him, and recognizing him, went to him and found
him speechless. He got him home, and for four months he was confined to
the house. During this protracted sickness, he exhibited great patience, was
continually happy in mind, and had constantly the witness of God's holy
Spirit, that he was accepted in Christ. As we have before said, his was not
the extreme of joy or the ebulition of rapture ; but " a peace which passeth
understanding,—" the peace of God." And who can tell what that is ? A
peace, the result of implicit faith, and accompanied by stedfast love, and.
blooming hope.

A few hours before his death, he sat up in bed, and conversed cheerfully
with his wife on some pecuniary matters. On the afternoon preceding the
day on which he died, he stretched out his arms in triumph, and cried out
I' Glory be to God." " Come, Lord Jesus, and come quickly." His wife
immediately asked, " James, canst thou really say, *' Come, Lord Jesus, and
come quickly ? " He replied, " Yes! yes ! "

About three o'clock on the morning of Monday, the 29th of September,
1856, he became suddenly and alarminely worse, and wished to be raised
in bed. For this purpose he requested that the servant should be called.
When this was done he wished them to send for his son John, who, on his
arrival found him speechless. His breathing was becoming weaker and
more indistinct, till he calmly, without a struggle or a groan, or even a
sob. "Fell asleep in Jesus."

Peace to his memory ! O it is sweet to contemplate the happy dead.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

222 Biography of Mr. George MiarshaUj of Thomse.

It i8 sweet to be permitted to hold in kindly afiection, to embalm witli
kindly reminiscence the memory, and to imitate with holy emnlation the
▼irtues of thoee who sleep in Jesas.

Sacred be the memory, hallowed be the recollections of departed worth !
As their virtaes flit across oor memories ; and as we think of those eyes
which once beamed with sanctified fire, and the accent of whose yoices yet
again seems to echo in our recollection, let ns pay a tribute to their
memory and offer the voice of praise to their worth. He shall rise again,
and again be re-united to yon whom he lored, and with whom he took
sweet tellowship while on earth. ^ Grieve not as them without hope.**
On the bright morning of the resurrection, your songs shall mingle, in
harmony join in the loud Hosannas to Him that wash^ ns in His blood,
and hath made us kings and priests unto God ; and unto the Lamb, to
whom you shall ascribe glory and honour, and power, for ever and for ever.

October 19, 1856. X. Y. Z.

MR GEOKGE MARSHALL, OP THORNSE.
The following is a brief sketch of our dear and much-lamented late
Brother George Marshall, who died at Thomse^ in the New Mills Circuit,
on the 15th of October, 1856, in the 69th year of his age. He was horn in
Sheffield in the year 1788, and no sooner was his barge launched on life's sea,
than we find him subjected to its rockings. When George was very young,
his fiather entered the army, and his mother not being able to proTide for
him, he was removed to Edale, where he resided with his grandfather Mar-
shall, until he was able to take the place of a servant at a farmhouse; and
while sustaining this position at a farmhouse in Chorley, which at that
time formed part of the Macclef^field Circuit, the light of GkMpel-graoe found
a way to his heart, ^ hich disclosed to him his condition as a guilty exposed
sinner, and led him with purpose of heart to seek forgiveness at the hands
of God. Having truly repented of his sins, and ascertained the way of salva-
tion through faith in Christ, he beUeved with his heart unto righteousneBSi
and could then with the poet say,

O love, thou bottomless abyaa^

My sins are swallowed up in thee !

Covered is my unrighteousness,

Nor spot of guilt remains on me ;

While Jestt*s blood through earth and skies^

Mercy — free boundless mercy cries 1

The persbn employed as the instrument in bringing about this happy
change, was the Kev. John Hanwell, who was then in the Macclesfield Cir-
cuit, whose labours it pleased the Lord to crown with success. The truth de-
livered by him led Brother Marshall with manv others to the Saviour, and
the good then done, where will it terminate ? We had in our lovefeast last
Sabbath one of Brother Marshall's sons, bearing his happy testimony to the
power of saving grace, evidently clothed with the mantle his father wore;
he is now a husband and a father, and so it may drop on his seed, and thus
go on. O the importance of saving a soul !

Our dear brother began to bend his attention to the best of causes when
about nineteen years of age. We have often been told that from sixteen to
twenty-five is a vastly important period, for then it is that habits become
fixed and connexions formed, the effects of which follow through life»

After walking in the way to heaven about eighteen months, George began
to think of taking to himself an helpmate ; and having the fear of God
before his ejes, he sought counsel of Him* He was wisely directed^ fle

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr, George Marshall^ of Thornse. 223

was taught by the word of God, that it was wrong for him to seek an help-
mate amongst the spiritually dead, to assist him in doing spiritual work,
which of all work is the most important. He found one who was truly
alive in the best sense of the word, and as deeply devoted to the cause of
troth as himself, viz.. Miss Ellen HalL We have reason to believe their
union was sanctioned by the best of Beings, and sanctified by those in«
fiuences in the absence of which we seek in vain for palmy days. He was
one of the kindest of husbands ; I think we may almost say he laboured,
by every possible means, to lessen the sorrows of his wife and increase
her comforts. For many years he had to labour hard to support a numerous
family. He brought up nine children, two of whom have preceded him to
the heaven of heavens. Ellen his daughter, who married John Molineuz,
was one of the excelleut of the earth ; she had power with God in prayer ;
when at the throne of grace, pleading with God, she did indeed take
hold of the tree of life, and did shake it in such a way as brought down the
ripe fruit in abundance. She lived boldly, died happy, and is now with the
redeemed. William also left a testimony behind that he was going to join
the blest. The efforts he put forth purposely to bring his children to God,
have not been in vain, and the position in life now held by them bespeak a
father's care. We regret that some of them are not converted to God.
May the numberless prayers offered on their behalf speedily be answered.

ue<M^ held a situation as leading man at a colliery for upwards of
twenty years, and had the entire confidence of his employer, whose kindness
towards him in his last sickness goes to confirm the above statement. A
leader and preacher with us, who has known Brother Marshall for thirty
years, says, he cannot recollect having heard the least thing ever having
been said against his moral character. The Christian principle adopted by
him had taken fast hold on his heart, making pure the fountain^ conse-
quently, the streams flowing therefrom must be pure also. He was indeed
an uniform, humble, unassuming, consistent, and truly devoted Christian,
honouring the God he loved, and doing honour to the Church to which he
belonged.

The members of the class he led haye felt his loss almost as much as the
members of his own family. He was as a father amongst them, caring both
for their bodies and their souls, and ever ready to ^iye suitable counsel. He
was esteemed in the neighbourhood in which he lived both by saint and
sinner — ^uprightness does command esteem.

In his last affliction, although it was heavy, be found God^s grace to be
lufficient for him. I had an opportunity of seeing him once a fortnight^
and on every occasion I found him firmly fix:ed on the Rock, the mellomng
infloence of that grace which God gives to the truly devoted shone through
his countenance, and was felt to accompany the expressions escaping from
his lips. The course he had pursued through life, led him to find the even-*
ing of life's day calm and tranquil. Peace was associated with the un->
shaken confidence he had in God. His sun went down in a clear sky, so as
to foretell a bright rising again. After being connected with the militant
church nearly half a century, God called him to his home in the heavens^
and now he ib joined to the triumphant church aboye, —
His race is run, his work is done,
He's left a sinful world behiifd ;
And now he's found before the throne,
Wliere all are peaceful, pure, and kind«

M^ we all follow him to heayen.

We endeavoured to improve his death on the 16th of November. Our
thapel at New Mills on the occasion was much too small, many had td
go ai^ay who could not get in. W. J.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

224

PURGATORY.

The dogma of Purgatory argnes the insufficiency of the ChriBtiiUi
system. This doctrine is so vague and doubtftd in its eyidence, and the
influence its belief has on the mind is so qaestionable, that it is matter of
surprise to intelligent men, that it should have been received b^ a nume-
rous and respectable class of the community as an article of fieiith. That
it is an anciVnt doctrine, we ^rant, but everything is not true 'which
is ancient. The partisans of this faith, however, pride themselves much
on its antiquity, as if it must of necessity be sound, because it is
old. Many principles are propagated in the world, which can boast
of greater antiquity than Furgatory, and yet are founded in error.
Purgatory is the child of error, and the mother must of necessity he
older than her offspring.- Men who advance antiquity, as evidence of
the genuineness of a doctrine, should be reminded that it was erroneous
doctrine, the doctrine of devils, which plunged our species from the
sublime summit of primeval purity, into the depths of depravity. Error is
older than man, ror it was manifested in the fall oi angels prior to
human existence.

Belief in the existence of some such place as Purgatory is said to have
found a place in old heathenish religion. Heathens, Jews, Rabbins, Mabom-
medans, professed Christians, all have believed that after the soul had
departed this life, it would be purified by fire before being admitted into
the state of the blessed. Pythagoras, whose philosophy wrought such
a revolution in the manners of tne Crotonians and others, taught this
doctrine to his pupils, five and a half centuries before Christ. And not
long subsequent to this period, somewhat similar views were propagated by
Plato. But these philosophers believed also in the pre-existence of the
soul, that it was invested with a body, only to punish it. The soul
being thus defiled through its combination with the body, rendered its
purification necessary. Being well acquainted with the purifying pro-
perties of fire, and at a loss to know how the soul otherwise was to
be purged, they easily arrived at the conclusion, that the soul after the
death of the body, was thus cleansed from its impurities. They walked
according to the light they possessed| probably, they had little or no
knowledge of the Mosaic Revelation.

Some of the fathers believed this doctrine. It was by the teachings of
Augustine, that the foundation of it was laid in its present form. In the
sixth century it was taught definitely, that the purging process commenced
immediately after the decease of the body ; that the suffering thus
caused exceeded every other kind ; and that by this sufferings the im-
purity which had not been cleansed from the soul by repentance, prayers,
and alms, would be removed by the fire of Purgatory. On this account it
is urged, numerous praters and alms should be made for the deliverance of
those souls that may still be detained in this fiery ordeal of purification.

Purgatory is said to be a fire which burns in the depths of the earthy
into which souls not fully delivered from sin, are cast to purify them
before being admitted into the habitations of the blessed.* Whether or not
such a fire exists, does not belong to our present purpose to determine, but
to shew that the spirits of men departing this Hfe, whether polluted or
sanctified, are d ^tained in no such place. Those who receive Purgatory as
an article of ai h, say, that it is ''A middle state of souls which depart
this life in Qod's grace, yet with some lesser stains, or guilt of punishment,
which retards them from entering heaven. But, as to the particular place

* Neudecher*s Religious LezicoD, Vol. ii. p. 15.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Purgatory. 225

where these soals suffer, or the qnality of the torments they suffer, the
church has decided nothing."*

This article we regard as being eqnally opposed to the remedy the Lord
has provided for the healing of the nations, and to the validity and
potency of the Divine law. K it is possible for the soul to depart this life
in God's grace, and at the same time to be guilty of sin, no matter to what
amount, it must be because the grace of God cannot fully save it, nor yet.
the law fully condemn it, and hence would arise the insufficiency of
the one, and the impotency of the other. It proceeds upon the assumption,
that a person may enjoy the saving grace of Grod and be guilty of sin at
the same time, \diich is a moral impossibility, and contrary to the plain
teachings of Scripture, and the settled laws of Divine government.

He who can rely on such a flexible doctrine, may soliloquize after
this manner : '< Why should I confine myself to a rigid morality, and a
strict observance of Scriptural rules of conduct ? though I should be cast into
Purgatory for a few petty sins, the suffi-ages of the faithful would restore
me ! AVhy then should I deny myself the world's luxuries P let me enjoy
life, and not rob it of its sweetness by a limitation of its pleasures t" Pur-
gatory countenances a very liberal morality. We shall search in vain in
the Word of God for anything that warrants such procrastination and
laxity of morals. Such a doctrine cannot be from God.

A glance into the fulness of the Gospel, will reveal the emptiness of
Purgatory. If the mind can be purified, and the habits corrected by the
expedient provided and proclaimed in the Word of Grod, there can be no
necessity for other means of sanctification. The heart is to be Changed by
grace, that grace being imparted in virtue of faith in the atoning blood of
Christ. An Apostle exclaims triumphantly : " The blood of Jesus Christ
his Son, cleanseth us from all sin." Sublimely simple, yet transcendantly
glorious is that scheme created by an Infinite mind, by which the wayward
dying sons of men, become inspired with the vivifying influence of the
Spirit, and established in virtue and holiness. The Gospel proclaims
a fall and free pardon to all repentant sinners, even to the "vilest and
worst,*' and not less perfect because free. To cite all the Scriptures which
support this assertion, would be to transcribe a considerable portion of tlie
Bible. Let one definite passage suffice. Accept it as the representative of
auumerous class. "If we," says the Apostle John, ''if we confess our
sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all
unrighteousness."

A confession of sins, which springs from a heart contrite with sorrow,
and relying on the merits of Christ, is the only requisite to frill salvation.
An unreserved compliance with this condition, will let into the soul the full
Hght of the GospeL Like a man emerging from a subterranean mine in
the twilight of morning, and rambling abroad at full liberty, while
the light increases more and more unto the perfect day, the soul, arising
from its darksome prison, is enraptured with pleasure, m proportion to the
perfection of the contrast between its former darkness and its present
hght God is faithful. By numerous promises he has pledged himself to
regard the man of a humble heart and broken spirit. We might sooner
expert the annihilation of a thousand worlds, than that the light of Divine
favour would not spring up in the soul of the penitent beUever. Science
declares the former to be improbable, but the Word of God declares the
latter to be impossible. , ^* Heaven and earth may pass away, but the word of
the Lord endureth for ever."

God is just. The. death of our Lord Jesus Christ, redeemed us from the
curse of tne law, being made a curse for us. The first man sinned, and the
hanefdl effects of the first sin cleaveth to the nature of his posterity. The

* Confesaion of Faitb, by Pope Pius IV.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

226 Pwrgatory.

second man Jesus Christy died instead of the first man, so that the benefits of
redemption are fally commensurate to the extent of the fall. " Where
sin abounded, grace did much more abonnd.'* By one we died, by one also
we Uye. When a sinner repents, the integrity of Divine government, the
stipulations of the covenant, the claims of that '' blood which speake^
better things than that of Abel,'' and the trust of the broken-hearted sinner,
all conspire to move God to forgive his sins ; and He faithful to himself, and
merciful to the sinner, bids him go in peace and sin no more. If men will
repent of their sins, and forsake the evil of their ways, the Lord will
receive them, and be a Father unto them.

Salvation is by faith. Man believes God, and it is acobanted to him for
righteousness. To believe, then, is to be saved. If faith in Christ is
maintained through all the stages of experience, the soul remains in a
justified state. Justification is an act which springs spontaneonsly from
the mercy of Jehovah. It is not a gradual work, whose silent operations
are carried on deep in the heart, like that of sanctification ; hence the
impossibility of being in a justified and condemned state at the same time.
Every man must be wholly, in one or the other condition, Uirongh eveiy
period of life. A Christian may grow in grace, extend his knowledge, and
learn wisdom from experience, he may have clearer and more convincing
views of divine favour, but the set of justification remains always the same.
To speak of a soul being in God*s grace while guilty of sin, is not trifling,
it is more, it is starting a doctrine without the shadow of a foundation, and
using words strangely inconsistent with each other. " Te cannot serve
Qod and mammon.

When faith in Christ is maintained, it justifies the soul ; in its absence
the law condemns it. ** He that believeth shall be saved, and he that
believeth not shall be damned." To ofiend in one point, is to be guiltv of
all. The eternal destiny of the soul is fixed immediately after the death of
the body. As the tree falls so it lies. " He that is unjust, let him be
unjust still : and he which is filthy, let him be filthy still : and he that is
righteous, let him be righteous still : and he that his holy, let him be holy
still. And behold I come quickly ; and my reward is with me, to give to
every man according as his work shall be."

Thus then we see, according to the teachings of the Scriptures, there
can be no such place as Pulsatory. The soul cannot be detained in any
mid-state ; justification would transport it to heaven, the want of it sink it
down to hell. Salvation hy Christ is God's remedy for the world's malady;
and this being sufficient, we require no other. There cannot be two ways of
salvation. That made known to us in the Bible, is through the sufferings
and death of Christ, not by the sufferings of Purgatory. The idea of
a fiery ordeal of purification for souls, originated not in the Word of God,
it owes its birth to heathen mythology. It proposes a medium of salvation
in addition to that propounded in the Scriptures, and at the same time
contrary to it. To point out a place where men who have entirely
neglected the duty of repentance, or only attended to it imperfectly, can
shelter themselves from the vengeance of an angry God, is to point the
sinner to a refuge of lies, and like the blind who lead the blind, both must
eventually fall into the ditch, J. Baro5.

Hamhurghi

BOOKS AND AUTHORS*

SIR T. BROWK AND JERJOCT TAYLOR.

Sir Thomas Brown is among my first favourites. Rich in trarions
knowledge, exuberant in conceptions and conceits, contemplative. Imagina-
tive, often truly great and magnificent in his style and diction, tiiongh,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Boohs and Authors. 22?

donbtleasi too oflen big, stiff, and hyperlatinistic ; thtw I miglit, without
admixture of falsehood, describe Sir T. Brown, and my description would
have this fault only, that it would be equally, or almost equally applicable
to half a dozen other writers, from the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth
to the end of the reign of Charles the Second. He is indeed all this, and
what he has more than all this, and peculiar to himself, I seem to convey
to my own mind in flome measure, by saying, that he is a quiet and sublime
enthusiaBt, with a strong tinge of the fantast; the humorist constantly
mingling with and flashing across the philosopher, as the darting coloura
in shot-silk play upon the main dye. In short, he has brains in his head,
which is all the more interesting for a little twist in the brains. He some-
times reminds the reader of Montaigne, but fi'om no other than the
general circumstance of an egotism common to both, which in Montaigne
is too often a mere amusing gossip, a chit-chat story of whims and
peculiarities that lead to nothing, but which, in Sir Thomas Brown, is
always the result of a feeling heart, conjoined with a mind of active
curiosity^the natural and becoming egotism of a man, who loving other men
as himself, gains the habit and the privilege of talking about himself as
familiarly as about other men. Fond of the curious, and a hunter of
oddities and strangenesses, while he conceives himself with quaint and
humorous gi-avity, an useful enquirer into physical truths and fundamental
science, he loved to contemplate and discuss his own thoughts and feelings,
because he found by comparison with other men's, that they, too, were
curiosities ; and so with a perfectly graceful, interesting ease, he put them,
too, into his museum and cabinet of rarities. In very truth, he was not
mistaken, so completely does he see everything in a light of his own^
reading nature neither by sun, moon, or candle-light, but by the light of
the &iry glory around his own head, that you might say, that nature had
granted to him in perpetuity, a patent and monopoly for all his thoughts.
Kead his Hydriotaphia above all, and in addition to the peculiarity, the
exclusive Sir Thomas Browness, of all the fancies and modes of illustra-
tion, wonder at and admire his entireness in every subject which is before
him* He is totua in illo, he follows it, he never wanders from it, and
he has no occasion to wander, for whatever happens to be his subject, he
metamorphoses all nature into it. In that Hydriotaphia, or treatise on
some urns dug'Up in Norfolk — how eaiiihy, how redolent of graves and
sepulchres in every line ! you have now dark mould, now a thigh bone,
now a skull, then a bit of a mouldered coffin, a fragment of an old tomb-
itone, with moss in its ' hie jacet,' a ghost, a winding sheet, or the echo of a
funend psalm wafted on a November wind ; and the gayest thing you shall
meet with shall be a silver nail, or gilt anno domini, from a perished coffin
top. The very same remark applies, in the same force, to the interesting,
though far less interesting treatise on the Quincuncial Plantations of the
Ancients, the same entireness of subject ; quincunxes in heaven above^
quincunxes in earth below, quincunxes in deity, quincunxes in the mind
of man, quincunxes in tones, in optic nerves, in roots of trees, in leaves, in
every thing. In short, just turn to the last leaf of this volume, and reaa
oat aloud to yourself the seven last paragraphs of chapter v., beginning
with the words, •* more considerable." But it is time for me to be m bed.
In the words of Sir T. Brown, which will serve as a fine specimen of his
manners, ** But the quincunxes of heaven, the hyades, or five stars^ about
the horizon, at midnight at that time run low, and it is time we close the
five parts of knowledge ; we are unwilling to spin our waking thoughts
into the phantoms of sleep, which often continue precogitations, making
i^bles of cobwebs, and wildernesses of handsome groves. To keep our
eyes open longer, were to act our antipodes ; the huntsmen are up in
Arabia, and they have already passed their first sleep in Persia," lliink

Digitized by VjOOQIC

228 Bo(^ and Auihori.

you, that there ever was such a reason given before' for going to bed ait
midnight ; to wit, that if we did not, we should be acting the part of our
antip<3e8, and then, '' the huntsmen are up in Arabia^" — what life, what
fwcj, does the whimsical knight give us thus, the essence of gonpowder
tea, and call it an opiate.

Jeremy Taylor was a writer as different from Sir T. Brown as it waa
possible for one writer to be from another. He was a dignitary of the
church, and except in matters of casuistry and contraverted points, could
not be supposed to enter upon speculative doubts, or give a loose to a sort
of dogmatical scepticism. He had less thought, less ^ to give us pause,*' in
his impetuous oratory, but he had equal fi&ncy, not the same vastness and
profundity, but more richness and beauty, more warmth and tenderness.
He is as rapid, as flowing, and endless, as the other is stately, abrupt,
and concentrated. The eloquence of the one is like a river, that of the
other is more like an aqueauct. The one is as sangiune as the other
is saturnine in the temper of his mind. Jeremy Taylor took obvious
and admitted truths for granted, and illustrated them with an inexhaustible
display of new, enchanting imagery. Sir Thomas Brown talks in sum-totak
Jeremy Taylor enumerates all the particulars of a subject; he gives
every aspect it will bear, and never ''cloys with sameness." His character-
istic is enthusiastic and delightful amplification. Sir Thomas Brown gives
the beginning and the end of things, that you may judge of their
place and magnitude. Jeremy Taylor describes their qualities and
texture, and enters into all the items of the debtor and creditor accouut
between life and death, grace and nature, faith and good works. He
puts his heart into his fancy. He does not pretend to annihilate the
passions and pursuits of mankind in the pride of philosophic indifference,
out treats them as serious and momentous things, warring with conscience
and the soul*s health, or furnishing the means of grace and hopes of gloiy.
In his writings, the frail stalk of human life reclines on tne bosom of
eternity. His ** ^oly Living and Dying*' is a divine pastoral. He writes to
the faithful followers of Christ, as the shepherd pipes to his flock. He
introduces touching and heartfelt appeals to famiUar life, condescends to
men of low estate, and his pious page blushes with modesty aud beauty.
His style is prismatic. It unfolds the colours of the rainbow; it floats
like the bubble through the air ; it is like innumerable dew-drops that
glitter on the face of morning, and tremble as they glitter. He does not
dig his way underground, but slides upon ice, borne on the winged car of
fancy. The dancing light he throws upon objects is like an Aurora
Borealis, playing betwixt heaven and eartn —

* Where pure Niemi's faery banks arise,
And frmged with roses Tengli rolls its stream.

His exhortations to piety aud virtue are a gay memento mori. He mixes up
death's heads and araman thine flowers, makes life a procession to the grave,
but crowns it with gaudy garlands, and '' rains sacrificial roses '* on its
path. In a word, his writings are more like fine poetry than any other
prose whatever ; they are a choral song in praise of virtue, and a hymn
to the Spirit of the Universe. I shall give a few passages, to show how
feeble and inefi&cieut this praise is.

The ** Holy Dying" begins in this manner. "A man is a bubble, he is bom
in vanity and sin, he comes into the world like morning mushrooms, soon
thrusting up their heads into the air, and conversing with uieir kindred of the
same production, and as soon they turn into dust and forgetfulness ; some
of them without any other interest in the affairs of the world, but that they'
made their parents a little glad, and very sorrowfuL Others ride longer in

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Boolts and Authors. £29 ^

the storm, it may be until seven years of vanity be ex^Hred, and then per-
adventure the sun shines hot upon their heads, and they fall into the shades
below, into the cover of death and darkness of the ffrave to hide them. But
if the bubble stands the shock of a bigger drop, and outlives the chances of
a child, of a careless nurse, of drowning in a pail of water, of being over-
laid by a sleepy servant, or such little accidents, then the young man dances
like a bubble, empty and gay, and shines like a dove*8 neck, or the image of
a rainbow, which hath no substance, and whose very imagery and colours are
fantastical ; and so he dances out the gaiety of his youth, and is all the
while in a storm, and endures, only because he is not knocked on the head
by a drop of bigger rain, or crushed by the pressure of a load of undigested
meat, or quenched b^ the disorder of an ill-placed humour ; and to preserve
a man alive in the midst of so many chances and hostilities, is as great a
miracle as to create him ; to preserve him from rushing into nothing, and
at first to draw him out of nothing, were equally the issues of an Almighty
power."

Another instance of the same rich continuity of feeling, and transparent
brilliancy in working out an idea, is to be found in his description of th«
Dawn and Prepress of Reason.

'*Some are called at age at fourteen, some at one and twentjp^, some never^
bat all men late enough ; for the life of a man comes upon him slowly and
inseDsibly. But as when the sun approaches towards the gates of the
morning he first opens a little eye of heaven, and sends away the spirits of
darkness, and gives light to a cock, and calls up the lark to matins, and
bj-and-bye gilds the fringes of a cloud, and peeps over the eastern hills^
thrasting out his golden horns, like those which decked the brows of Moses,
when he was forced to wear a veil, because himself had seen the face of
God ; and still while a man tells the story, the sun gets up higher^ till he
shews a fair face and a full light, and then he shines one whole day, under a
cloud often, and sometimes weeping great and little showers, and sets
quickly, so is a man*s reason and his life."

This passage puts one in mind of the rising dawn and kindling skies
in one of Claude's landscapes. Sir T. Brown has nothing of this rich
finishing and exact gradation* The genius of the two men differed, as
that of the painter from the mathematician. The one measures object^
the other copies them. The one shows tJiat things are nothing out of
ttiemselves, or in relation to the whole; the other what they are in
themselves, or in relation to us. Or the one may be said to applj the tele-
scope of the mind to distant bodies ; the other looks at nature in its infinite
minuteness and glassy splendour through a solar microscope.

In speaking of death, our author's style assumes the port and withering
smile of the King of Terrors* The following are scattered passages oa
this subject

'4t is the same harmless thing that a poor shepherd suffered yesterday,
or a maid servant to-day ; and at the same time, in which you die, in that
very night a thousand creatures die with you, some wise men, and many
tooa ; and the wisdom of the first will not quit him, and the folly of the
latter does not make him unable to die.

I have read of a fair young German gentleman, who, while living, often
refused to be pictured, but put off the importunity of his friends' desire, b^
guying way, that after a few days' burial, they might send a painter to his
vault, and if they saw cause for it, draw the image of his death unto the
life. They did so, and found his face half-eaten, and his midriff and back-
bone, full of serpents ; and so he stands pictured among his armed an-
cestors.

It is a mighty change thit is made by the death of every person, and
it is visible to as who are alive. Beckon, but from the sprightfulness of

Digitized by VjOOQlC

280 Biwks and Auihori,

youth, and the fair cheeks and full ejee of childhood, from the Tigonnuaen
and strong frame of the joints of fiTe-and-twentj, to the hollowness and
dead paleness, to the loathsomeness and horror of a three days* hmial, and
we shall perceive the distance to be very great and very strange. But so
have I seen a rose newly springing from the clefts of its hood, and at firefc
it was fair as the mornmg, and full with the dew of heaven as the lamVg
fleece ; but when a ruder breath had forced open its virgin modesty, and
dismantled its too youthful and unripe retirements, it began to put on dark-
ness, and to decline to softness and tne symptoms of a sickly age, it bowed
the head and broke its stalk, and at night, having lost some of its leaves,
and all its beauty, it fell into the portion of weeds and oat-worn feces.
So does the fairest beauty change, and it will be as bad with you and
me ; and then what servants shall we have to wait upon us in the grave 1
What friends to visit us ? What officious people to cleanse away the moist
and unwhobsome cloud reflected upon our faces from the sides of the
weeping vaults, which are the longest weepers for our funerals ?

A man may read a sermon, the best and most passionate that ever man
preached, if he shall but enter into the sepulchres of Kings. In the same
Escurial where the Spanish princes live in greatness and power, and decree
war or peace, they have wisely placed a cemetery, where their ashes and
glory shall sleep till time shall be no more ; and where our kings have been
crowned, there their ancestors lie interred, and they must walk over their
grandsire*s head to take his crown. There is an acre sown with royal seed,
the copy of the ^^reatest change from rich to naked, from ceiled roofs to arched
coffins, from living like gods to die like men. There is enough to cool the
flames of lust, to abate the heights of pride, to appease the itch of covetous
desires, to sully and dash out the dissembling colours of a lustful, artifi-
cial, and imaginary beauty. There the warlike and the peaceful, the fortu-
nate and the miserable, the beloved and the despised princes mingle their
dust, and pay down their symbol of mortality, and tell all the world that
when we die, our ashes shall be equal to kmgs, and our accounts easier,
and our pains for our crimes shall be less. To my apprehension, it is a sad
record which is left by the Atheneus concerning Ninus, the great Aseyriaa
monarch, whose life and death is summed up in these words: — ^^ Ninas,
the Assyrian had an ocean of gold and other riches more than the sand
in the Caspian sea. He never saw the stars, and perhaps he never desired
it : he never stirred up the holy fire among the magi : nor touched his god
with the sacred rod according to the laws : he never ofiered sacrifice,
nor worshipped the deity, nor aidministered justice, nor spake to the people,
nor numbered them ; but he was most valiant to eat and drink, and having
mingled his wines, he threw the rest upon the stones. This man is dead ;
behold his sepulchere, and now hear where Ninus is. Sometime I was
Ninus, and drew the breath of a living man, but now am nothing bat
clay. I have nothing but what I did eat, and what I served to myself in
lust is all my portion ; the wealth with which I was blessed, my enemies
meeting together shall carry away, as the mad Thyades carry a raw goat
I am gone to hell, and when I went thither, I neither carried gold nor horsey
nor silver chariot. I that wore a mitre, am now a little heap of dust.* "

He who wrote in this manner also wore a mitre, and is now a heap of
dust : but when the name of Jeremy Taylor is no longer remembered with
reverence, genius will have become a mockery and virtue an empty shade.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

2S1

REVIEW AND CRITICISM.

The Unsealed Prophecy ; Lectures on the Revelation of St. John,
Bj Robert Skken. London : Berger, Holjwell-street.

The lectures contained in this volume, were delivered by a member
(not in the ministry) of the Moravian Church, on the usual week.*
day evening services held in the Chapel, Fetter Lane, during a part
of the year 1853. From a careful perusal of the whole, we are
prepared to say that they are quite equal in style to some works of
the same class of far loftier pretensions. They reflect credit at once
on the head and heart of the author, and on the church to which he
belongs.

With an amiable modesty the lecturer acknowledges his obligations
to Elliott's Horse Apocalypticse ; and while it is not difficult to trace
the characteristics of that ^fted student of prophecy in a portion of the
volume, there is abundant evidence throughout that Mr. Skeen can
think for himself, and has not hesitated to differ widely from him,
whenever he conceived the views of Elliott coi^ld not be fully
sustained by an appeal to the sure word of the living God.

The chief points which have struck us as peculiarly interesting
and original, and apparently more in the spirit of the prophecy, are
the chronological arrangement of the outpouring of the viali^ and
the interpretation generally, of the sixth vial.

After stating the argument very clearly, he sums the whole up by
the following, —

" We may therefore legitimately consider the Euphrates, not as signifying
the Turks, but as denoting the line of separation between Christianity and
eveiy false religion in the East. Even as it was the promised eastern
boandary of the territory of God's ancient people, and in the days of David
and Solomon, separated them from their idolatrous neighbours. The
Euphrates may thus typically represent the many obstacles which have
hitherto opposed the spread oi the Gospel in the regions towards the sun-
rising. When they are removed — when the mystical Euphrates is dried
up— the glad tidings of salvation vnW spread as easily and as rapidly as the
troops of Cyrus spread themselves through the streets of Babylon, on that
memorable night when they entered it by the dry bed of the nver."

The valuable historical references, some of which we have not
seen before, render the lectures full of interest. We are not willing
to endorse all Mr. Skeen's conclusions, but on a subject so involved as
unfulfilled prophecy, we regard the man who is able to shed any
light upon it as worthy of honour. Apart from the character of
this volume, there is an interest attaching to it, as being a specimen of
the typography of the island of Ceylon. The lectures having been
transmitted to a relative residing in Colombo, who undertook to con-
duct them through the press, and it is but just to say that he has
performed his duty tastefully and correctly.

The Great Redemption, By William Leask. London : B. Gbebn,
Paternoster-row.
This i^ an Essay on the Mediatorial System. Its object is to

Digitized by VjOOQIC

232 Beview and CrUkUm*

present a systematic view of redemption in a popular form. The
author begins with the idea of Revelation, and passes under review,
first a summary of the gracious plan, and then successively, its
antiquity, ^'sovereignty, completeness, adaptation, freeness, efficacy,
and design.** And he brings his subject to a point by presenting what
may be supposed to be the conceptions of the redeemed concerning it,
as they look back on its course of development in the present state,
from that high platform which they occupy in the heavenly world
** The great Redemption" is characterised by considerable originality
and depth of thought. Its style is singularly clear, and it is entitled,
on the whole, to occupy a highly respectable position among the
theological productions of the age.

Memoir of T. Batty, By John Petty, London : Thomas King,
Button-street, Commercial Road East.

This is the record of the life and labours of one of the most inde-
fatigable of those zealous and self-denying men, who, under God, have
made Primitive Methodism one of the great powers of the nineteenth
century. Its author in a calm and dispassionate manner presents
the principal incidents in the history of the deceased. The volume
abounds with matters of deep interest, and cannot fail of a wide circu-
lation both among the Primitive Methodists and Christians of other
denominations. We wish the author's effort to preserve the memory
of this good and useful man, may exceed his most sanguine anticipa-
tions.

GottholcTs Emblems. By Christiak Scrtveb. Edinburgh : T. and
J. Clark, 38, 6eorge*street London : Hamilton, Adams, and Co.

The work before us is a production of the German mind, to which
the bibliography of the age, is so much indebted. German contribu-
tions to our literature have, however, been mostly in the department
of scientific theology; and some of those contributions have been of
questionable value. In another department, for which the German
intellect is eminently adapted, we have had fewer re-publications
in this country from the German press — we allude to that of
devotional literature. With the exception of Bogatzky's " Gk>ldea
Treasury" and "the Emblems,'* we remember scarcely any other
works in this department. This is to be regretted, for we understand
the literature of Germany is rich in a class of works kindred with
<* the Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul," — " the Saints'
Everlasting Rest," — ^and " Hervey's Meditations." The translation of
a few such works into English would do vastly more to promote the
interests of vital godliness, than many of their muddy speculations in
the department of Criticism. The publication of the beautiful work
before us is a step in the right direction. Gotthold brings the genias
of an ^sop to the illustration and enforcement of the principles of
Divine truth. This work which has charmed the German people of
six generations, is destined, we doubt not, by the aid of this trans-
lation, to interest the English people for generations and ages to come.
The " Emblems " is one of those works which cannot jierish.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

WickliffVs Bible and his Colporteurs, 233

Upward and Onward, By S. W, Partridge. London : Par-
tridge and Co., Patemoster-row.

This is a poetical production bj the Author of " Voices from the
Garden," " An Idea of a Christian," &c. The following passage will
convey some notion of the spirit and power of the author : —

THE SABBATH.

Oh day of happjr meetings, kindly nurse

Of holiest charities and purest joys !

Oh day of glad domestic gatherings !

The sister, from the neighbouring village now »

Th' family circle joins, and cheers the heart

Of her fond father, and awakes his pride,

Observant of her budding womanhood.

Th' apprentice trudges from the distant town

Big with commercicd duties, laden too

With a huge hard-earned present, — all for her,

His fond indulgent mother. With kind hand

The loving gentle Sabbath gathers those

Whom labour had dispersed, unites again

The social fragments round the homely hearth,

And makes the circle once again complete.

Ev'n the brick floor, ruddy every day,

To-day is clean and red beyond its wont,

The hearth is whitened worthy " the best day ;"

There is a larger joint upon the board,

A bigger pie i' th' cupboard ; and around.

The pure thankoffering of a gladdened heart

Beams manifest from every brightened eye.

We wish we had space for more passages from this excellent work.

Motives to Holiness. By Benjamin Glazbbrook. London : M.
Baxter, 5, Horseshoe-court, Ludgate Hill.

A new work from the pen of Mr. Glazebrook. This is a suit-
able sequel to those other excellent works from his racy pen, entitled,
" Motives to Piety " and " Motives to Faith." The style and spirit
ia the " Motives to Holiness " is the same as in the excellent and well
known works just alluded to. We wish an extensive circulation to
this little work.

WICKLIFFE'S BIBLE AND HIS COLPORTEURS.

As has been remarked before, no book before the invention of printing
ever had such advantages for becoming widely known. Wickliffe, the
great practical reformer, with his thorough knowledge of all classes of
English society, had not urged through this gigantic task [his version of
the Scriptures] as a mere experiment. He had hia eye on a definite,
practicable result, the means for accomplishing which were in his own
nands. Aside from the demand for the Scriptures excited by his general
influence during a public career, he had at command one of the most
eflfective agencies of modem publication. The active, hardy, itinerant

R

Digitized by VjOOQIC

234 British Colonization.

preacliers whom he had sent out to procUum, by word of mouth, glad
tidings to the poor, who hod threaded every part of England, and become
intimately acauainted with the character and wants of its population, now
formed a band of colpobtbvrs for the written Word. They knew in what
&ir-off hamlets pious souls were counting the days to the return of their
missionary and pining for the bread of lue; what thinking merchants and
tradesmen in the great towns, what honourable men and women among
the country gentry, were eager to search the Scriptures whether these
things were so. Several copyists, no doubt, had kept pace with the pro-
gress of the translation ; and as fast as a few chapters or a book was com-
pleted, these faithful agents would make known the priceless treasure in
the homes of the people. Many a touching scene might be imagined, of
rustic groups by the wayside, in the churchyard, or around the peat fire
at evening, listening for the first time to the words of the Bible in their
mother tongue. Then how would the beautifully written manuscript be
passed round, from hand to hand, to be admired and wondered at ; and not
seldom to be wet with tears from eyes that beheld for the first time, in
English characters, the name of Jesus ! Nor would the missionary be
suffered to depart before a copy, of at least some portion, had been obtained.
If 110 professional copyist was to be found, hands all unused to the labour
of the pen would scrawl painfully a nide transcript of a plasm, of the ten
commandments, a few chapters of the Gospels, or of Paul's Epistles, to
remain as a lamp of heavenly light, when the living preacher had
departed. It is a fact of intensest interest and significance, that numerous
fi-agments of this kind were subsequently found among the Lollards. True,
a large majority of the middle and lower ranks must have depended for
their knowledge of the holy oracles on the ear alone ; but when the
memory is little occupied, and the heai*t writes the lesson on its tablets,
much of the very language of Scripture may even thus be handed down,
unimpaired, through successive generations. The truth of this is abun-
dantly verified in Uxq history of Wickliffe's later followers.— -5fr«. Conanfi
JSnglish Bible,

BRITISH COLONIZATION.

The warlike legions that go forth to conquer remote regions — ^however
dazzling their achievements — exercise a far less enduring influence, and
noiaintain their territories by a far feebler hold than do the peaceful mis-
sionaries of commerce who quit their native land to colonise. The
national ffenius of the Goths, and especially of the Anglo-Saxon family, is
pacific. The Norman invasion introduced into these islands an infusion of
that martial spirit which characterises the Frankish races. But still the
Anglo-Saxon blood predominates, and retains its indigenous virtue. If
Great Britain have created, as undoubtedly she has created, an empire far
wider than that " of Greek or Boman fame," it has been less by the power
of her arms than by the sway of her intellect Her progress in truth, has
often been stained with bloou ; but comparatively less so than that of the
other European nations who have invaded the American, African, or Aus-
tralian territories.

It were indeed easy in the records of our colonial history to fix upon foul
deeds, and to brand with infamy many a distinguished actor ; but if our
system of colonization has been on the whole more prosperous than that of
our neighbours, it is because it has been on the whole more peaceful
and benevolent. Contrast the inroads of Spain in Central and Southern
America, with the progress of England in the Northern part of that great
continent. The sole instrument by which the Spaniards established, and

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Last One RemenUfcred, 235

sought to oonsolidate their authority was that of violence, and when, in pro-
gress of time, it was wrested from their hands by their descendants, aided
to a small extent by the native tribes, violence is still found to be the
foundation on which the revolutionary governments seek to erect themselves,
and confusion and anarchy follow in its train. Not so were our American
plantations founded. The soldier did not precede, or make way tor the
citizen. The sword was not the precursor of the plough. Peaceful men —
pilgrims of liberty — pastoral families who tilled the field, and levelled the
forest, were the most successful and the most honoured settlers ; and the
great North American race still preserves the stamp of its origin. To me
nothing appears so unnatural, — so unnational,— so wholly out of keeping
with elL the antecedents of American history, as this warlike cry which has
lately broken out in the United States for Texas, and Oregon, and Mexico,
and California. I know it has been loud — but it must have been hollow.
The venr instinct of America must respond to the admirable advice
addi'essed to them by Dr. Mackay —

If we do desire the land

Bide your hour — 'twill not be long j
Clear it — plant it— send a band.

Peaceful, enterprising, strong,
Who will people all the clime.

Spreading commerce as they go.
Free to answer in their time.

When you ask them, " Yes, or No !**

And who will dare refuse to ratify a "Yes, or No !" so uttered?

Look at Algeria ! It represents the attempts of a nation renowned for
military prowess to establish a colonial empire by force of arms. It is a
most disappointing and disastrous exhibition. The warrior there was to
make way for the settler. It would be difficult to estimate what multitudes
of men, and what amounts of money have been sacrificed by the French in
their determination to make Algeria their own. The Arabs have been
extirpated with the most reckless barbarity. Razzias — a horrible word —
implying general devastation and destruction, have been adopted against the
natives, not as a dire and dreadful necessity, but as part of a system. The
colonization of the European just progresses with the flight or the annihi-
lation of the children of the desert. A succession of what are called vic-
tories mark the progress of French aggression. But never was a land held
by a more unsatisfactory tenure. The man who sows, and the man who
reaps the harvest, requires the protection of the soldiery. Beyond the
spots occupied by military legions there is everywhere peril to the traveller.
Violen<fe is the only sceptre — the only authority. It is not an auxiliary to
aid the decrees of law and equity ; there is no law or equity but that of
force. Government is war, and being war briogs with it all war*s demora-
lisation—crime and calamity. Would that France, having so completely
foiled in her schemes of coercion and conquest, were persuaded to try.
whether civilisation and kindness — whether a pacific instead of a belligerent
policjr might not better advance her objects! — From a Lecture on the
Political and Commercial Importance of PeacCy delivered in the London
EaU of Commerce, and published by the Peace Society.

THE CASKET.

THE LAST ONE REMEMBERED.

It is a mar^ of f^race, that the believer in his progress heavenward, grows
more and more alive to the claims of Jesus, if you " know the love of

b2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

236 The Casket.

Christ," his is the latest name yoa will desire to utter ; his is the latest
thought jou ^ili desire to form ; upon Him you will fix jrour last look on
earth, upon him your first in heaven. When memory is oblivious of all
other objects — when all that attracted the natural eye is wrapped in the
mists of death — when the tongue b cleaving to the roof of our mouth, and
speech is gone, and sight is gone, and hearing gone, and the right hand,
lying powerless by our side, has lost its cunning, Jesus! then may we re-
member Thee ! If the shadows of death are to be thrown in deepest dark-
ness on the valley, when we are passing along it to glory, may it be ouis to
die like that saint, beside whose bed wife and children once stood, weeping
over the wreck of faded faculties, and a blank, departed memory. One bad
asked him, '* Father, do you ramember me ?*' and received no answer ; and
another and another, but still no answer. And then, all making way for
■the venerable companion of a long and loving pilgrimage — the tender
partner of many a past joy and sorrow — bis wife draws near. She bends
over him, and as her tears rail thick upon his face, she cries, **Do you not
remember- me ?*' A stare — bat it is vacant. There is no soul in that filmy
eye ; and the seal of death lies upon those lips. The sun is down, and life's
brief twilight is darkening fast into a stai'less night. At this moment, one
calm enough to remember how the love of Christ^s spouse is " strong as
death" — a love that many " waters cannot quench" — stooped to his ear, and
said, " Do you remember Jesus Christ ?" The word was no sooner uttered
than it seemed to recall the spirit, hovering for a moment, ere it took wing
to heaven. Touched as by an electric influence, the heart beats once more
to the name of Jesus ; the features fixed in death, relax; the countenance,
dark in death, flashes up like the last gleam of day ; and with a smile in
which the soul passed away to glory, he replied, <* Bemember Jesus Christ !
dear Jesus Christ ! he is all my saltation, and all my desire." — Br, Guthrie,

OBORGB FOX, THE FIRST QUAKER.

While London was agitated by the news that a plot had been disooveredj
George Fox, the founder of the sect of Quakers, died.
. More than forty years had elapsed since Fox had begun to see visions
^uid caflt out devils. He was then a youth of pure morals and grave
deportment, with a perverse temper, with the education of a labouring
^man, and with an intellect in the most unhappy of all states, that is to say,
too much disordered for liberty, and sufficiently disordered for BedlauL
The circumstances in which he was placed were such as could scarcely
fail to bring out in the strongest form the constitutional diseases of bis
mind. At the time when his faculties were ripening, Episcopalians, Pres-
l)yterians, Independents,' Baptists, were striving for mastery, and were, in
every comer of the realm, refuting and reviling each other. He wandered
from congregation to congregation. He heard priests harangue against
Puritans, Puritans harangue against priests, and he in vain applied for
spiritual direction and consolation to doctors of both parties. One jolly
old clergyman of the Anglican communion told him to smoke tobacco and
Bing psalms ; another advised him to go and lose some blood. The young
inquirer turned in disgust from the i^visers to the Dissenters, and found
them also blind guides. After some time, he came to the conclusion that
no human being was competent to instruct him in Divine things, and that
the truth had been communicated to him by direct inspiration from
Heaven. He argued, that, as the division of language began at Babel, and
as the persecutors of Christ put on the cross an inscription in Latin, Greek,
and Hebrew, the knowledge of languages, and more especially of Latin,
Greek, and Hebrew, must oe useless to a Christian minister. Indeed, he
was so far from knowing many languages, that he knew none ; nor can

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket. 23^

the most corrupt passage in Hebrew be more unintelligible to the nn-
leamedj than his English often is to the most acute and attentive
reader. One of the precious truths which were divinely revealed to
this new apostle was, that it was falsehood and adulation to Ui:e the
second person plural instead of the second person singular. Another
was, that to talk of the month of March was to worship the blood-
thirsty god Mars, and that to talk of Monday was to pay idolatrous
homage to the moon. To say good morning or good evening was highly
reprehensible, for those phrases evidently imposed that God had made bad
days and bad nights. A Christian was bound to face death itself rather
than touch his hat to the greatest of mankind. When Fox was challenged
to produce any Scriptural authority for his dogma, he cited the passage in
which it is written that Shadrach, Meshech, and Abednego were thrown
into the fiery furnace with their hats on ; and, if his own narrative may be
trusted, the Chief Justice of England was altogether unable to answer this
argument, except by crying out, " Take him away, gaoler." Fox insisted
much on the not less weighty argument that the Turks never show their
hare heads to their superiors; and he asked, with great animation,
whether those who bore the noble name of Christians ought not to surpass
Turks in virtue. Bowing he strictly prohibited, and, indeed, seemed to
consider it as the effect of Satanical influence ; for, as he observed, the
Woman in the Gospel, while bhe had a spirit of infirmity, was bowed
together, and ceased to bow as soon as Divine Power had liberated her
from the tyranny of the Evil One. His expositions of the sacred writings
were of a very peculiar kind. Passages, which had been in the apprehen-
sion of all the readers of the Gospels during sixteen centuries, figurative,
he construed literally. Passages, which no human being before him had
ever understood in any other than a literal sense, he construed figura-
tively. Thus, from those rhetorical expressions in which the duty of
patience under injuries is enjoined, he deduced the doctrine that self-^"
defence against pirates and assassins is unlawful. On the other hand, the
plain commands to baptize with water, and to partake of bread and wine
in commemoration of the redemption of mankind, he pronounced to be
allegorical. He long wandered from place to place, teaching this strange
theology, shaking iSte an aspen leaf in his paroxysms of fanatical excite-
ment, forcing his way into churches, which he nicknamed steeple-houses,
interrupting prayers and sermons with clamour and scunility, and pester-
ing rectors and justices with epistles much resembling burlesques of those
Buhlime odes in which the Hebrew prophets foretold the calamities of
Babylon and Tyre. He soon acquired great notoriety by these feats. His
strange face, his strange chants, his immovable hat, and his leather
breeches, were known all over the country ; and he boasts that, as soon ar
the rumour was heard, **The man in leather breeches is coming," terror
seized hypocritical professors, and hireling priests made haste to get out of
his way. He was repeatedly imprisoned and set in the stocks, sometimes
justly, for disturbing the public worship of congregations, and sometimes
tinjustly, for merely talking nonsense. H e soon gathered round him a body
of disciples, some of whom went beyond himself in absurdity. He has told
tis one of his friends walked naked through Skipton declaring the truth,
and another was divinely moved to go naked during several years to
market-places, and to the houses of gentlemen and clergymen. Fox com-
plains bitterly that these pious acts, prompted by the Holy Spirit, were
requited by an untoward generation with hooting, pelting, coach whipping,
and horsewhipping. But though he applauded the zeal of the sufferers, he
did not go quite to their lengths. He sometimes, indeed, was impelled to
strip himself partially. Thus he pulled off his shoes and walked barefoot
through LiQhfield, crying, '^Woe to the bloody city." But it does not

Digitized by VjOOQIC

288 The Casket.

appear that he ever thought it his daty to appear before the public
-without that decent garmeut from which his popular appeliation was
derived.

If we form our judgment of George Fox simply by looking at his own
actions and writings, we shall see no reason for placing him, morally and
intellectually, above Ludowick Muggleton or Joanna Southcote. But it
would be most unjust to rank the sect which regards him as its founder
with the Muggletonians or the Southcotians. It chanced that among the
thousands whom his enthusiasm infected were a few persons whose abuitiea
and attainments were of a very different order from his own. Eobert
Barclay was a man of considerable parts and learning. William Fenn,
though inferior to Barclay in both natural and acquired abilities, was
a gentleman and a scholar. That such men should have become the
followers of George Fox ought not to astonish any person who remembers
what qxiick, vigorous, and highly-cultivated intellects were in our own
time duped by the unknown tongues. The truth is, that no powers of mind
constitute a security against errors of this description. Touching God and
his ways with man, the highest human faculties can discover little more
than the meanest. In theology, the interval is small indeed between
Aristotle and a child, between Archimedes and a naked savage. It is not
strange, therefore, that wise men, weary of investigation, tormented by
uncertainty, longing to believe something, and yet seeing objections to
everything, should submit themselves absolutely to teachers who, with
firm and undoubting faith, lay claim to a supernatural commission. Thus
we frequently see inquisitive and restless spirits take refuge from their
own scepticism in the bosom of a church which pretends to infallibility,
and, after questioning the existence of a Deity, bring themselves to
worship a wafer. And thus it was that Fox made some converts to whom
he was immeasurably inferior in everything except the energy of his
convictions. By these converts his rude doctrines were polished into
a form less shocking to good sense and good taste. No proposition
which he had laid down was retracted— no indecent or ridiculous act which
he had done or approved was condemned ; but what was most grossly
absurd in his theories and practice was softened down, or at least not
obtruded on the public ; whatever could be made to appear specious was
set in the fairest light : his gibberish was translated into Englisn, meanings
which he would have been quite unable to comprehend were put upon his
phrases, and his system so much improved that he would not nave known
it again, was defended by numerous citations from Pagan philosophers and
Christian fathers whose names he had never heard. Still, however, those
who had remodelled his theology, continued to profess, and doubtless to feel,
profound reverence for him ; and his crazy Epistles were to the last received
and read with respect in Quaker meetings all over the country. His death
produced a sensation which was not confined to his own disciple& On the
morning of the funeral a great multitude assembled round the meeting-
house in Gracechurch-street. Thence the corpse was bom to the burial
ground of the sect near Bunhill-fields. Several orators addressed the
crowd which filled the cemetery.

DEATH OF QUEEN MART.

"William had but too good reason to be uneasy. His wife had, during two
or three days, been poony; and, on the preceding evening, ^ravesjrmptoras
had appeared. Sir Thomas Millington, who was physician in ordinary
to the King, thought that she had the measles, but Kadcliffe, who, with
coarse manners and little book learning, had raised himself to the first
practic in London, chiefly by his rare skill in diagnostics, uttered the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket 239

more alarming words, " small pox." That disease, over which science has
achieved a succession of glorious and beneficent victories, was then the
most terrible of all the ministers of death. The havoc of the plague had
been far more rapid, but the plague had visited our shores only once or
twice within living memory, and the small-pox was always present, tilling
the churchyard with corpses, tormenting with constant fears all whom it
had not yet stricken ; leaving on those whose lives it spared the hideous
traces of its power; turning the babe into a changeling at which the
mother shuddered, and making the eyes and cheeks of the betrothed
maiden, objects of horror to the lover. Towards the end of 1694, this
pestilence was more than usually severe. At length the infection spreadl
to the palace, and reached the young and blooming queen. She received
the intimation of her danger with true greatness of soul. She gave orders
that every lady of her bedchamber, every maid of honour, nay, even
every menial servant, who had not had the small-pox, should instantly
leave Kensington House. She locked herself up during a short time in
her closet, burned some papers, arranged others, and then calmly awaited
her fate.

During two or three days there were many alternations of hope and
fear. The physicians contradicted each other and themselves in a way
which sufficiently indicates the stjite of medical science in that age. The
disease was measles, it was scarlet fever, it was spotted fever, it was
erysipelas. At one moment some symptoms, which, in truth, showed that
the case was almost hopeless, were hailed as indications of returning
health. At length all doubt was over ; Eadcliffe's opinion proved to be
right ; it was plain that the queen was sinking under small-pox of the
most malignant type.

All this time William remained night and day near her bed-side. The
little couch on which he slept when in camp was spread for him in the
ante-chamber, but he scarcely lay down on it. " The sight of his misery,"
the Dutch envoy wrote, " was enough to melt the hardest heart." Nothing
seemed to be left to the man whose serene fortitude had been the wonder
of old soldiers on the disastrous day of Landen, and of old sailors on that
fearful night, among the sheets of ice and banks of sand on the coast of
Goree. The very domestics saw the tears running unchecked down that
face, of which the stem composure had seldom been disturbed by any
triumph or any defeat. Several of the prelates were in attendance. The
king drew Burnet aside, and gave way to an agony of grief. " There is no
hope," he cried. " I was the happiept man on earth, and I am the most
miserable. She had no fault— none ; you knew her well, but you could
not know, nobody but myself could" know, her goodness." Tenison
undertook to tell her that she was dying. He was afraid that such
a communication, abruptly made, might agitate her violently, and began
vith much management ; but she soon caught his meaning, and with that
gentle, womanly courage, which so often puts our bravery to shame,
submitted herself to the will of God. She called for a small cabinet,
in which her most important papera were locked up, gave orders that,
as soon as she was no more, it should be delivered to the king, and
then dismissed worldly cares from her mind. She received the Eucharist,
and repeated her part of the office with unimpaired memory and intelli-
gence, though in a feeble voice. She observed that Tenison bad been long
standing at her bedside, and with that sweet courtesy which was habitusS
to her, Sdtered out her commands that he would sit down, and repeated
them till he obeyed. After she had received the Sacrament, she sunk
rapidly, and uttered only a few broken words. Twice she tried to take
a last farewell of him whom she had loved so truly and entirely, but
she was unable to speak. He had a succession of fits so alarming, that his

Digitized by VjOOQlC

240 The Casket.

priTy cotincillord, who were asembled in a neighbonriDg room, Were appre-
neusive for his reason and his life. The Duke of Leeds, at the request of
his colleagues, yentured to assume the friendly guardianship of which minds
deranged by sorrow stand in need. A few minutes before the queen
expired, William was remoyed, almost insensiblei from the sick room.

FEUIT8 OF THE REVOLUTION OF 1688.

England has passed through severe trials, and had come forth renewed in
health and vigour. Ten years before it had seemed that both her liberty
and her independence were no more. Her liberty she had vindicated by a
just and necessary revolution. Her independence she had reconquered by
a not less just and necessary war. She had successfully defended the order
of things established by the Bill of Rights against .the mighty moDBrch
of France, against the aboriginal population of Ireland, against the avowed
hostility of die nonjurors, against the more dangerous hostility of traitors
who were ready to take any oath, and whom no oath could bind. Her open
enemies had been victorious on many fields of battle. Her secret enemies
had commanded her jQeets and armies, had been in charge of her arsenals,
had administered at her altars, and taught at her universities, had swarmed
in her public offices, had sat in her parliament, had bowed and fawned in
the beachamber of her king. More than once it had seemed impossible
that anything could avert a restoration which would inevitably have been
followed, first, by proscriptions and confiscations, by the violation of
fundamental laws, and the persecution of the established religion, and then
by a third rising up of the nation against that house which two depositions
and two banishments had only made more obstinate in evil. To the dangers
of war and the dangers of treason had recently been added the dangers of
a terrible financial and commercial crisis. But all those dangers were over.
There was peace abroad and at home. The kingdom, after many years of
Ignominious vassalage, had resumed its ancient place in the first rank of
European powers. Many signs justified the hope that the revolution of
1688 would be our last revolution. The ancient constitution was adapting
itself, by a natural, a gradual, a peaceful development, to the wants of a
modem society. Already freedom of conscience and freedom of discussion
existed to an extent unknown in any preceding age. The currency had
been restored, public credit had been re-established, trade had revived, the
exchequer was overflowing ; there was a sense of relief everywhere, from
the Hoyal Exchange to the most secluded hamlets among the mountains of
Wales and the fens of Lincolnshine. The ploughmen, the shepherds, the
miners of the Northumbrian coal-pits, the artisans who toiled at the looms
of Norwich and the anvils at Birmingham, felt the change without under-
standing it ; and the cheerful bustle in every seaport and every market
town indicated, not obscurely, the commencement of a happier age.

THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE.

During near half an hour the battle continued to rage along the southern
shore of the river. All was smoke, dust, and din. Old soldiers were
heard to say, that they had seldom seen sharper work in the low countries.
But, just at this conjuncture, William came up with the left wing. He bad
found much difficulty in crossing. The tide was running fast. His
charger had been forced to swim, and had been almost lost in the mud. As
soon as the king was on firm ground he took his sword in his left hand, for
his right arm was stiff with his wound and his bandage, and led his men
to the place where the fight was the hottest. His arrival decided the fate
of the day ; yet the Irish horse retired fighting obstinately. It was long
remembered amon? the Protestants of Ulster, that, in the midst of the
tumult, W iUiam rode to the head of the Enniskilleners. ** What will you

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket. 241

do for me ?" be ^rxedu He was not immediately recognised, and one
trooper, taking him for an enemy, was about to fire. William gently put
aside the carbine. " What," said he, " do you not know your friends ?"
"It is his majesty,'' said the colonel. The ranks of sturdy Protestant
yeomen set up a shout of joy. ** Gentlemen," said William, " you shall be
my guards to-day. I have heard much of you. Let me see something of
you." One of the most remarkable peculiarities of this man, ordinarily so
saturnine and reseinred, was, that danger acted on him like wine, opened his
heart, loosened his tongue, and took away all appearance of constraint from
his mannw. On this memorable day he was seen wherever the peril was
greatest. One ball struck the cap of his pistol, another carried off the heel
of his jadcboot ; but his lieutenants in vain implored him to retire to some
station from which he could give his orders without exposing a life so
valuable to Surope. His troops, animated by his example, gained ground
last. The Irish cavalry made their last stand at a house called Plottin
Castle, about a mile and a half south of Oldbridge. There the Ennis*
killeners were repelled with the loss of fifty men, and were hotly pursued,
till William rallied them and turned the chase back. In this encounter
Richard Hamilton, who had done all that could be done by valour to
retrieve a reputation forfeited by perfidy, was severely wounded, taken
prisoner, and instantly brought through the smoke, and over the carnage,
before the pi-ince whom he had foully wronged. On no occasion did the cha-
racter of William show itself in a more striking manner. '< Is this business
over ?" he said, *' or will your horse make more fi^ht P*' ^ On my honour,
sir," answered Hamilton, **I believe that they will." "Your honour!'*
muttered William, *• your honour !" That half-suppressed exclamation was
the only revenge which he condescended to take for an injury for which
many sovereigns, far more affable and p^racious in their ordinary deport-
ment, would have exacted a terrible retribution. Then restraining himself,
he ordered his own surgeon to look to the hurts of the captive.

EiNQ William's manners.

One of the chief functions of our sovereigns had long been to preside
over the society of the capital. That function Charles the Second had pcr-
i'ormed with immense success. His easy bow, his good stories, his style of
dancing and playing tennis, the sound of his cordial laugh, were familiar to
all London. One day he was seen among the elms of St. James's park
chatting with Dryden about pjoetry. Another day his arm was on Tom
Darfey^ shoulder ; and his Majesty was taking a second, while his com-
panion sang, "Phillida, Phillida," or " To horse, brave boys, to Newmarket,
to horse.'* James, with much less vivacity and good nature, was accessible,
and, to people who did not cross him, civil. But of this sociableness
William was entirely destitute. He seldom came forth from his closet ; and
when he appeared in the public rooms, he stood among the crowd of cour-
tiers and ladies, stern and abstracted, making no jest and smiling at none.
His freezing look, his silence, the dry and concise answers which he uttered
when he could keep silence no longer, disgusted noblemen and gentlemen
who had been accustomed to be slapped on the back by their royal masters,
called Jack or Harry, congratulated about race cups or rallied about
actresses. The women missed the homage due to their sex. They observed
that the king spoke in a somewhat imperious tone even to the wife to whom
he owed so much, and whom he sincerely loved and esteemed. They were
amused and shocked to see him, when the Princess Anne dined with him,
and when the first green peas of the year were put on the table, devour the
whole dish without offering a spoonful to her Koyal Highness ; and they
pronounced that this great soldier and politici&n was no better than a low
Dutch bear. One mistbrtune, which was imputed to him as a crime, was

Digitized by VjOOQIC

242 The Casket.

his bad English. He spoke oar language, but not well. His accent was
foreign ; his diction was inelegant ; and his Tocabalary seems to have been
no larger than was necessary for transaction of business. To the difficulty
which he felt in expressing himself, and to his consciousness that his
pronunciation was bad, must be partly ascribed the taciturnity and the
short answers which gave so much offence. Our literature he was in-
capable of enjoying or of understanding. He ncTer once, during his whole
reign, showed himself at the theatre. The poets who wrote Pindaric
verses in his praise complained that their flights of sublimity were beyond
his comprehension. Those who are acquainted with the panegyrical odes of
that age, will perhaps be of opinion that he did not lose much hy
his ignorance.

THE FAULTS OF THE TOLEKATION ACT.

The Toleration Act approaches very near to the idea of a great English
law. To a jurist, versed in the theory of legislation, but not intintotely
acquainted with the temper of the sects and parlies into which the nation
was divided at the time of the Revolution, that Act would seem to be a
mere chaos of absurdities and contradictions. It will not bear to be tried
by sound general principles. Nay, it will not bear to be tried by any prin-
eiples, sound or unsound. The sound principle undoubtedly is, that mere
theological error ou^ht not to be punished by the civil magistrate. This
principle the Toleration Act not only does not recognise, but positively dis-
claims. Not a single one of the cruel laws enacted against Nonconformists
by the Tudors or the Stuarts is repealed. Persecution Continues to be the
general rule. Toleration is the exception. Nor is this all. The freedom
which is given to conscience is given in the most capricious manner. A
Qaaker, by making a declaration of faith in general terms, obtains the fnll
benefit of the Act without signing one of the Thirty-nine Articles.
An Independent minister, who is perfectly willing to make the declamtion
required from the Quaker, but who has doubts about six or seven of the
Articles, remains still subject to the penal laws. Howe is liable to punish-
ment if he preaches before he has solemnly declared his assent to the
Anglican doctrine touching the Eucharist. Penn, who altogether rejects
the Eucharist, is at perfect liberty to preach without making any declara-
tion whatever on the subject.

MOTIVE POWER OF THE NUOARA FALLS, AS COMPARED WITH
THE WOBKS OF ART.

It appears, from a calculation made by Mr. G. R. Blackwell, in the Ame-
rican Journal of Science and Arts, that the waterfall of Niagara is capahle
of imparting a mechanical force of motive power equal to 4,533,334 horse
power, being nineteen times greater than the aggregate motive power of
all the steam-engines and waterfalls of Great Britain ; and when it is con-
sidered that the water power of the cataract of Niagara is unceasing night
and day, and that the power, as calculated above, for practicable purposes,
in Great Britain, is only applied, on an average, about eleven hours per day
during six days of the week, it may be assumed that the motive power of
the Fall is at least forty-fold of the aggregate of all the water and steam
power of this country.

" Such, and in so great a scale," says the Journal, " are the ordinary
operations of the impulses of physical power employed in the mechanics of
nature in the movements of a single nver, that there is thus furnished an
impressible lesson to humble the pride of man in his boasted achievements
of the triumphs of mind over matter.'

" True, there is much in the comparison to humble man in the pride of
his triumphs, and the boast of his discoveries--and we even might pro-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket. 243

ceed a little farther, untD. we had reduced into utter insignificance the most
brilliant attainments of art, and the proudest monuments of human skill and
ingenuity : —

In human works though laboured on with pain,
A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain.

" The projectile force of a cannon>ball is equal to eight miles per minute;
what is this compared with the tangential force of the earth at a point of its.
orbit, which is equal to nearly 1,130 miles per minute ? The greatest arti-
ficial heat yet obtained is 21,877 deg. scale of Fahrenheit ; the internal
heat of the earth is computed to be equal to 450,000 deg. Thus ascending
in the scale of creation, we outstrip every element of calculation, and
annihilate every point of comparison, in estimating the energies of matter,
whether as developed in the mechanics or in the chemistry of nature. The
concentration of power is an object aimed at by man in the progress of dis-
covery, but it is not the chief one ; the application of that power to the
-Tarious purposes of life has contributed most to call forth his ingenuity. In
the steam-engine, he is in possession of a power limited only by the strength
of the vessel in which it is generated ; but unlimited in its wonderful appli-
cation to the numerous and diversified processes of art and manufactures.
With this power, man has reduced the labour of five hundred years to one
day ; with this power he can perform the most delicate processes, as well as
those requiring the greatest application of mechanical energy — with this
power he has diminished both time and space. But recently he only
crawled on the sur&ce of the earth ; now, he can transport himself from
place to place with the swiftness of the carrier-pigeon ; and thus, by the
rapidity of his movements, the extent of his intercourse, the variety of his
operations, and the amount of his enjoyments, he has materially added to
the sum of his existence, and extended the boundaries of thought and of
action."

A WORD TO THB SORROWFUL.

" They that sow in tears shall reap in joy " — not they that simply sow
tears. "He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall
doubtless come again rejoicing " — not he that only weeps.

Let us remember this, lest we be asked, " Where are your sheaves ? "
Why are they not the richer for this dew of heaven, for this " rain upon the
mown grass ? " How many are they who ** wrap the mantle of their grief
about them," and idly sigh their life away ; making, moreover, a virtue of
their cloak, even a robe of righteousness, which shall, they think, admit
them into heaven !

Let us rather feel our responsibility to be the greater for all this grief..
After all this process of cultivation — this gift of God for the end of our
perfection, shall we not indeed be barren trees, unprofitable servants, if we
have no harvest to bring in, no jewelled crowns to lay down at Jesus' feet ! —
at the feet of this Captain of our Salvation, who was made perfect through
suffering; of Him who, " though he was a Son, yet learned he obedience by
the things which he suffered ? " — Puritan Recorder,

A BRIEF COLLOQUY.

"Our doctrine," said a Universalist preacher, "is certainly the most
merciful ; it embraces in its charity the 'whole race of man, and divests
God of all appearance of that severe justice, which you say requires him to
damn sinners. Surely, if you would consult your peace of mind, you
would discard your gloomy views and embrace it." "True," says the
plain Christian addressed, " it seems to be very charitable ; but is it true 1
Snppose I should trust in it, is there any way of rectifying my mistake, if

Digitized by VjOOQIC

244 Eeligioiu Intelligence*

in the other world I Bhonld find it to be erroneous 1 I feel no dispoation
to hazard mj soul, and as UniyersaliBm will, if tme, cover my case at all
events, I will in the meantime trust to the eood old way, of believing ia
Christ for salvation, and testifying my sincerity by a holy life."

LIFE A FILGBIMAGK

' Here thou art but a stranger, travelling to thy country, where the glories
of a kingdom are prepared for thee ; it is, therefore, a huge folly to be
much aMcted because thou hast a less convenient Inn to Iwlge in by the
way.

SECRET FRAYEIU

Christian brother ! hast thou " entered into thy closet" daily of late ? If
not, what dishonoar hast thou done to Him who stands ready there to
*^ hear all thy petitions !" How much love for your family could you be
supposed to possess, if you should stay away from the family circle whole
davs, and eat and sleep in your barn ? Yon can eat your breaa from heaven
only in the closet, and keep your heart warm with the blood of Jesns only
there. If you are willing to venture through the dangers, and to assume
the responsibilities of any day of your life, without Christ for your guide
and strength on that day, omit entering your closet, but on no other.

Again, hast thou considered the closet the place for the virtual achieve-
ment of the main business of life ? Jacob had been many years acting out
the views gained and plans formed in secret communion with Grod, when be
was about to meet Esau, who might destroy him. Now, he must gain
victory and success in his secret communion wish God. In going to
and coming from Fandan-aram, he achieved the great ends he aimed at in
secret intercourse with God. Before we have God with us in outward
labour, we must seek him and gain his direction, and promise of help in
secret. Oh, if thy heart was more in the closet, it would be more full of
hope in the church of God, where thou oughtest to "play the man"
always.

RELIGIOUS INTELLIGENCE.
GROSVENOR-STREET CIRCUIT.

GREEN HSYB CHAPEL.

Dear Sir,

You will be pleased to learn that the interests of the kingdom of our
Redeemer are being promoted in our Circuit.

Simultaneously with the revival of the work of God, by which many have
Been brought to a saving acquaintance with Him, it has been our delight
to receive other manifestations of His favour.

From the time our Association first was formed, we have had a
Sabbath-sebool (the Wilmot Street Sabbath- school), on this side of tlie
Circuit. But although situate in a densely populated neighbourhood, we
have done little more than keep our school together. We had long been of
opinion, that in order to succeed, it would be necessary to have more suitable
accommodation, but until, in the order of Divine Providence, our way was
opened, all our efforts were utterly fruitless. Our extremity proved to be
God's opportunity. A. small but neat and comfortable chapel and school-
room, which had been built about the year 1855, for the use of the Primitive
Methodists, was offered for sale by auction, it was thought by many of our
friends that if the purchase could be effected, at a suitable price, we ought to
secure the place.

On the day of sale, the chapel and school-room were bought for the use
of the Wesley an Methodist Association, for the sum of 4007. Conveyance,
alterations, &c., have increased the cost to about 500/.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Religious Intelligence, 245

It being our opinion that the house of God should be free of debt, an effort
has been made, wliereby we hope that, within twelve months from the time of
.opening, to have it free from all encumbrance.

To accomplish this object, we iirst called together a few friends, who nobly
responded to our appeal for aid. Our next business was to set about can-
vassing the Circuit, the result of which canvass has been most gratifying.

On Sunday, February 1st, the chapel was opened for Divine worship, when
tbe Rev. A. Gilbert, our much esteemed minister, preached in the morning
and evening, and the Kev. J. Steele, of Sal ford, in the afternoon.

On the following Monday evening, the Rev. Wm. McKerrow, D.D., of the
United Presbyterian Church, preached for us; and in addition to a most
eloquent discourse, made us a present of half-a-sovereign.

On Sunday, February 8th, the Rev. G. J. N. Faull preached in the
morning ; the Rev. M. Miller in the afternoon ; and the Rev. H. Tarrant in
the evening.

On the Monday evening following, we had an excellent discourse from the
Rev. Joseph Rayner Stephens of Staley bridge.

Tbe services were well attended, and the collections good, amounting
altogether to upwards of 30/.

On Wednesday evening, February I8th, we had a public tea-meeting, the
trays for which were kindly furnished by the ladies. After tea, the. chair was
occupied by our minister, the Rev. A. Gilbert, when the meeting, which was
a crowded one, was addressed by the llev. J. Steele, and others. ^

Our prospects are most cheering, — the school is rapidly filling,— and we
doubt not but that, with the blessing of God upon our united efforts, we shall
soon bave to say, " the place is too straight for us, give us room that we may
dwell."

ManeheMter, March 10, 1857. Jas. McAllesteb.

STOCKTON CIRJCUIT.

"the WESLEY FAMILY " LECTURES.

The fifth and concluding lecture of this most interesting series was delivered
by the Rev. Edmund Heywood, in the Wesleyan Association Chapel, Regent-
street, Stockton, on Tuesday evening last The audience was larger than at any of
the preceding lectures, ana completely crowded the chapel. The entirely unsec-
tarian character of the lectures and their enduring interest, combined with the
well known abilities of the lecturer, occasioned a large attendance of members
of other denominations. Amongst the audience we noticed Episcopalians,
Independents, Baptists, Presbyterians, Wesleyan and Primitive Metnodists,
and persons of no professions whatever, all drawn together by a common
sympathy to listen to Mr. Heywood's delineation of the founder of Method-
ism. The chair was occupied by Mr. Thomas Brown. The subject, as an-
nounced, was " John Wesley, what he was, what he taught, what he did i
Saul of Tarsus, Martin Luther, and John Wesley compared. '

Mr. Heywood commenrced with a brief review of his former lectures, show-
ing tbe influence possessed by the parents of John Wesley in forming the cha-
racter of their most celebrated son ; the judicious training jziven by his
motber especially, being cited as a glorious example for all Christian parents.
His diligence was pointed out as the secret of his success. His large-nearted
benevolence when at college, and throughout life was illustrated by charac-
teristic incidents. The lecturer gave a graphic sketch of the extraordinary
circumstances of Mr. Wesley's eventful career, embracing the mission to
Oeorgia ; his conversion ; the closing of the churches against him ; his con-
nection and difference with Whitfield (of whom Mr. Hevwood spoke in terms
of the highest commendation) ; the foundation of Methodism and its subse-
quent success; his unhappy marriage, and its attendant circumstances ; his
cbeerful and happy old age, and triumphant death. As an author, Wesley
was most industrious, as his Christian library, his sermons and hymns, and
the ** Arminiaa Magazine," (of tvhich he was editor for a considerable time),

Digitized by VjOOQIC

246 ReUgious Intelligence.

sufficiently prove. How he travelled, preached, and wrote bo much, has
been the wonder of all, but in Mr. Hey wood's words, " he never lost an
hour."

The lecturer then made a brief survey of the points of comparison between
the Apostle of the Gentiles, Martin Luther, ana John Wesley, instancing the
zeal and earnestness displayed by them in their search after the troth, the
manner of their conversions, the moral courage exhibited by each on many
trying occasions, their great superiority over their fellows — each standing far
out like landmarks in the religious history of the world — and their abundant
success.

This lecture, like the preceding ones, was copiously illustrated by facts and
arguments poured forth from a richlv-stored mind, guarded by a powerful and
retentive memorv, and which, guided hy^ a keen mother- wit, Mr. Heywood
placed before his hearers iu a most attractive and telling style.

The most marked attention was bestowed by the audience throughoat the
evening, and the applause given was as liberal as it was deserved. A vote of
thanks to Mr. Heywood was proposed by Mr. Flockton, who evidently ex*
pressed the wish of the meeting m hoping for future lectures of a similar
nature. Mr. firiggs seconded the motion, which was carried unanimously;
and after the usual thanks to the Chairman, the assembly dispersed. — Northern
Daily ExpresSf March 20.

NORTH WALES.

RBOSLLANERCHRUQOY.

On Monday evening, the 2nd of March, 1857, a Lecture was delivered by the
Rev. W. Williams, Wesleyan Association Missionary, the subject being a Nar-
rative of a Journey performed by the Rev. Lecturer from tne United States,
over the Rocky Mountains, to California.

The discourse was divided as follows : — ^The journey from New York to the
boundaries of the United States — the journey over the Mountains— the Latter-
day Saints, and the Salt Lake — the South Pass to California ; and finally, the
passage home. The united choirs of all the congregations of the place, con-
tributed to the interest of the occasion by singing choice pieces of sacred
music, between the various divisions of the discourse.

The admission was by tickets. The proceeds, amounting to the sum of 16/.,
were given towards defraying the expenses incurred by the recent enlargement
of the chapel. Great praise is due to the Independents for kindly lending their
chapel on the occasion.

The lecture, which was extremely able and of thrilling interest, was listened
to by the crowded auditory with profound attention. The chair was filled by
the Rev. Mr. £vans. Independent minister.

TODMORDEN CIRCUIT.
To the Editor,— Dear Sir,

A little more than two years since a few of the friends here, thought the
introduction of an organ into Bridge-street Chapel a desirable object, if it
could be accomplished. To some extent instrumental music had long been
employed in Divine worship, with the consent of the church and congregation.
There was therefore no objection to instrumental music, as such being so em-
ployed ; and an organ was deemed the most appropriate and effective instru-
ment for such a purpose. Accordingly a committee was appointed at a Society
Tea-meeting to manage the matter. The friends were waited upon privately,
at different times for contributions, who responded ultimately to the amount of
195/. 8«. 4|d

Mr. Holt, organ-builder, then of Bradford and now of Leeds, engaged to
furnish us with a suitable instrument for 305/.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Religious Intelligence, 2 17

The organ was completed in July, 1855. At the opening, sermons were
preached on two successive Sabbatiis by the following brethren. The first
Sabbath, by the Rev. Robert Eckett, morning and evening, and the Rev. W.
Jackson, in the afternoon ; on the second by the Rev. J. Peters, in die morn-
ing: and evening, and the Rev. J. Guttridge, in the afternoon.

The collections at these and other public services amounted to 1372^ 0«. 9i//.,
vbich, with what had previously been subscribed, produced a total of 330/1
99. 2d, The cost of the organ and expenses of opening amounted to 328/.
9«. 2£/., leaving a balance of 2/. in the hands of the treasurer, which was present-
ed to the two young men, members of the church, who have played the organ
gratuitously for about twelve months, as a small acknowleagment of their
services.

On Friday, December 7, 1855, the committee delivered the organ unencum-
bered with debt into the hands of the Trustees, who passed a unanimous vote
of thanks to the committee and subscribers, for the handsome and successful
manner in which they had performed their task.

I am happy to say in conclusion, Mr. Editor, that our congregational singing
has not been injured by the introduction of the organ, as is sometimes the
case, but considerably improved ; so also is the internal appearance of our
spacious chapel ; changes with which we are all well satisfied, and which we
are anxious to press into the service of our blessed Redeemer.

Todmorderit April 22nd, 1857. W. J.

HELSTON ciRcrrr.

One of our correspondents gives the following account of his labours : —
" We are glad," says he, ** that we are alive, and do assure you that we have
no desire to die. Life is as precious as ever ; we think we can understand
Job in his strong saj^iug,-^' Skin for skin— all that a man hath, will he give
for his life !' Your friend is trying to represent the reality of living, which is
to dare, to work, to strive, to be, and do. At it,—* In labours more abundant.'
As ministerial work and success have not lost their charm upon your attention
and interest, suppose we sum up an epitome of a few exercises, &c., during the
last eighteen months?

Preached on ordinary occasions about 550 sermons ; on special occasions
in this and other Circuits, 50 ; held and attended a great many public meetings
on different occasions ; 200 prayer-meetinss ; 40 class- meetings ; paid 1000
pastoral visits ; travelled by land and by sea about 2500 miles— besides efforts in

5ointing many — many penitents to Christ; reading, studying, recreating, &c.
'his is no child's nlay, is it ? Still we are at it ; and God is with us
yet. Generally speaking our Circuit promises well ; we have peace, plenty,
and good cheer. Wishing my friends well, strength to prosecute their work, a
large increase to their circle from the world; from the contemplated bridal of
the Reformers ; and every temporal and spiritual good,

*' I remain, in Christ Jesus,

" Yours very truly.

Alpha.

ROCHDALE CIRCUIT.

To the Editor,— Dear Sir,

During the commencement of March and the commencement of the present
month, we have held the residue of our Missionary meetings for this Circuit.
At Spotland, March 11 ; Brimrod, March 19 ; Milnrow, March 23 ; Lower-
place, March 24 ; Bagslate, March 25 ; Lowerfold and Hamerplace, March
26 ; Watergrove, March 30 *, Littleborough, March 31 ; and Smallbridge, April
Itt. At these places sermons were preached and collections made, on the
previous Sabbaths. At Belfield, the public meeting was held in the evening
of the Sabbath, March 16th, as also at the Pottery, April 5th ; and in the
afternoon of Sundays April 12th, the annual meeting of the Juvenile Branch

Digitized by VjOOQIC

24S Poetry.

of our Missionary Society, was held in Baillie- street Chapel, Rochdale, vben
several young persons connected with our Sabbath-schools, advocated the
cause of Missions in a most interesting and acceptable manner.

All the services connected with these Anniversaries have been most
pleasing and profitable, and we trust an influence has been left to work which
will produce good results in years to come. More has been accomplished by
the aid of Missionary Boxes than in former years, and we hope the Treasurer's
account will in the end show an increase in the proceeds of this Circuit in
support of Missionary labour, at home and abroad.

At the several public meetings it was intimated that invitations had been
received from our Mission in Australia, directed to several ministers in the
Home Societies, and that it was probable that one of the ministers of this
Circuit, would accept the invitation that had been directed to him. The sym-
pathy and prayers of the people were therefore solicited, that God in His
mercv may guide and preserve his servants, that so the wants of this Mission
may be supplied, and that other labourers may be raised up to supply the calls
of the other important Missions of the Association.

** Lord, send thy servants forth,

To call the Hebrews home I
From East, and West, and South, and North,
Let all the wanderers come.

" With Israel's myriads, sealed,

Let all the nations meet ;
And show the mystery fulfilled— .

Thy family complete."

J.Sayer, \seci.

ThOS. SCHOFIELD,

POETRY.

" Time shall he no longer ! "
At length a point of light appears on high
Like one sole star that gems the midnight sky,
Descending swift to earth with brightning glow,
Nearer it draws till seen by man below,
A great Archangel bursts upon the view.
Clad in the splendours of each rainbow hue,
In stature vast beyond all human thought,
Of Godlike form with heavenly glory fraught,
Above the earth, radiant in dazzling light.
And by bright clouds encompassed m his flight;
He pauses, and self-poised in ether, sounds
His golden trumpet huge. The blast rebounds
From heaven to earth, and vibrates far and wide,
Encompassing the world on every side,
Pealing in loud reverberating roll,
Like rival thunders flung from Pole to Pole.
Then while his wings shoot scintillations bright,
Skirting the earth, once more he speeds his £ght ;
A moment only, glorious he descends,
Alighting where the earth with ocean blends.
With speechless awe, mankind behold him stand,
One foot on ocean placed and one on land,
And with his arm uplifted in the air,
And solemn voice majestic hear him swear, '
Bv God himself, who lives for ever more,
That Time shall be no longer !

Digitized by VjOOQIC

THE

WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE.

JUNE, 1857.

THE INTEREST WHICH ANGELS TAKE IN THE
SCHEME OF REDEMPTION.

The substance of a Sermon delivered in Lady Lane Chapel^ Leeds^
on Sabbath Evening^ August 2«rf, 1856, and published by request of
the Annual Assembly,

By the Rby. M. Baxter, President of the Annual Assembly.

'^ Wliicli things, the angels desire to look into."

1 Pbtxb L 12.
(Contiimed from page 165.)

We come now to notice —

in. The deeplt excitbb Feelings with whioh Angels

DEVOTE themselves TO THE StVDT OF THIS THEME.

^Tnto these things the Angels desire to looh"

In order to feel the force of the Apostle's allusion, we must enter
for a moment into the Holiest of all, in the Tabernacle built by Moses.
Here, we behold a Mercy-seat of pure gold : two cubits and a
balf in length, and one cubit and a half in breadth. And over
it are two golden cherubim — one cherub on the enc^on this side,
and another cherub on the other end on that side. And the
cherubim are seen to spread out their wings on high, and to
coyer over the Mercy-seat with their wings; to turn their fiices
one toward another, and toward the Mercy-seat are their faces turned.
This tabernacle-scene is sketched more in detail by the Apostle Paul,
in one of the chapters to the Hebrews — that singular production of
inspiration which may well be designated the Leviticus of the
New Testament *^And after the second vail, the Tabernacle
vMch is called the Holiest of all ; which had the golden censer j and
the ark of the covenant overlaid round about toith gold^ wherein was
the golden pot that had nianna, and Aaron's rod that budded, and the
tables of the covenant; and over it the Cherubim of glort
shadowing the Merot-seat." Now, the question which naturally
arises on viewing this scene, connected as it was with a typical
economy, is this— What was the grand reality under the dispensation
OF the FULNESS OF TIMES, which thcsc goldcn Cherubim, (for they
must have had some significance) were intended to shadow forth f
And the obvious answer is, that the symbolic Chenibim in th^

s

Digitized by VjOOQIC

250 The Interest which Angels take

Tabernacle of MoMft» art also ift Solomon's Temple, wefO Intended to
typify the all-absorbing interest which the living Cherubim in
the presence of Ggd, fe«l in the deep tn/lteftes and the brilhant
discoveries of "the glorious Gospel of the blessed God.** The word
which is here translated "look," eignifies, according to Robinson, "to
stoop down, near by any thing, to bend forward near in order to look
at any thing more closeli/J* " It would denote," says Barnes, " that
state where one was before at so gfeai a distance that he could not
clearly see an object, and should draw nearer, stooping down in order
that he might observe it more distinctly.'^ It is probable, therefore,
that the Apostle had in his reeoUectioii the posture of the Cherubim in
the Holiest of all, when he penned the words bdfc^d us. And it is
clear that his object Wad to convey the idea, that the Angels of God
hftvs An intense desire to examine minutely the great principles of
the Gospel BeteUttion i that they regard them with the interest And
fixed attention of one who draws near an object, and looks at it 1?ith
intent gaze, in order that he may know it in all its aspects.

Now, it will be recollected tnat, under the last head of discourie,
we specified two or three general aspeots of the Ohristian Religion,
which might serve to attract angelic Beings towards the study of
" these things." It may be well, therefore^ under this division of the
subject, to point out some features in an Angel's mind which render
him peculiarly susceptible to the influence of such attractions. Are
we asked, then, what there is in an Angel's mind to move him towards
the study of " these things." We answer-^

1 . 7'he Angels ar$ impelled to this study ^ by thsir exaltsd sympathies^
which find " in these things " their most delightful exercise. Among
intelligent belftgs there are vatIous forms of sympathy. But It will
be admitted by all, that in proportion to the morftl elevfltiott d a
being, must be the refinement and intensity of that being's sympathies.
Now of all created beings, the Angels have the loftiest morsl
nature. They Are most eminently distinguished by the purity of
their feelings and of their actions. And that prineiple of love,
which Is the great element of Holiness, whether practised In Heftv^n
or on earth, is also the root of the noblest sympathies which <ifl
intelligent Being can either feel or manifest.

There Are two ways in which Angels mAV exercise their exalted
ti^pathles. They mAV exercise them either in the contempktion of
dl>fects qf moral grandeuty or in the performAnce of acts of pity
towArds beings deeply plunged in moral wretchedness, And the Angela
find in « these things "the most ample scope for exercises of both
kinds.

What Ample scope do " these things" supply for the eterclse of
their sympatny with all that is morally grand in nsture and in actidii !
With what admiration they must have regarded that marvellotis
eomblnation of Power and of Grace which efl'ected the constltttticn of
the nature of the God-man ! What an Intense feeling of the moral
sublime they must have experienced when they saw Christ driving
fiis Sworn- Adversary before Him in the fierce encounter of the
Wilderness 5— when they saw Him on the Cross, scAttcr like dust

Digitized by VjOOQIC

in %h^ Scheme of Redemption. 231

the hosts of Hell, all marshalled on Calvarjr for the final onslatight !
With what delight must they have witnessed His final triumph over
the Jew and the Roman— over Death and the Grave— over Earth
and Hell, which had entered into a solemn compact to keep Him
cloteljr eottflned in the captivity of the Tomb ! And what must have
been their raptures of admiration when they saw Him return, in
triumph from those bloody scenes amid which he had waged a conflict
of more than thirty years against all the powers of Evil, carrying
our Humanity up with Him to the skies to share in His glory, as the
Mediatorial Chief of the Universe I But thehr sympathy— however
intense^with the triumph of Inflnite Goodness over all the agents of
''the Wicked One,^' levied for the most diabolical purposes, must
have been more intenselv excited when they saw the World's great
Redeemer walking fbrth m all the scenes of moral action as a living
Commentary on God's Holy Law— IbWUing its most difficult require-
ments in the most trying circumstances-praising the virtues of
Humanltv in this remote world to more than the angelic Standard^
and finally converting his Cross into an instrument for the manifesta*
tion of the noblest types of moral Goodness to all Beings throughout
^ ages. The Angels delightfully witnessed <' these things" in their
enactment-^their noblest sympathies are still enlisted in their contem*
plation ; and if their feelings could find expression in the language of
mortalSi we should hear from the lips or the Cherubim and of the
Seraphim sentiments kindred to those of the immortal Youngs

'< Talk they of morals ! 0 thou bleeding loYe,
Thou Maker of new morals to mankind !
The grand morality is love of Thee.'^

Nor is it A mere contemplative interest which the Angels feel in refe-
rence to << these things." They belong as inetrumenU to our Economy*
They, too^ have laboured and struggled in the cause of God and man.

^ Michael has fouffht our battles ; Raphael sung
Our triumphs ; Gabriel on our errands flown,

SlNt BT THB SOVKMION !**

We learn fVom the sacred records of the Old Testament that these
glorious Beings were, largely concerned, in the great scheme of human
feoovery, from the time of its first announcement in the garden through
all its Suooessive stages of development down to the manifestation of
Christ And when " the fulness of time" came, they were still more pro-
nunently engaged in those great historic scenes which are sketched with
Bttch graphic power, in the New Testament. The angel Gabriel an-
nounced the miraculous conception to the Virgin. ^^Hail thou ihat ar$
highly fatxmtedi the Lard is with thee t bleeeed art thou among womeH»
• • . Behold^ thou ehaU conceive in thy toomb, and bring forth a Son^
and thou ehalt call hie name Jkstts. He ehall be great, and ehall be
oaUed the Son of the Higheet i and the Lord God ehall give unto hint
tt« throne of hie father David t And he shall reign over the houee qf
J^eob for ever ; and of hie hinadom there ehall be no end. * . The
^^ Ohoei ehall come upon Aee^ and the power of the Higheet ehall

s ^

Digitized by VjOOQIC

252 The Interest which Angels take

cver-shadow thee : therefore also that holy thing that shatt be bom of thee
shall be called the Son of God/* Luke i. 28, 31 — 33, 35. It was an
Angel who made known the same event to Joseph. *' Joseph, thou son
of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife, for that which is
conceived in her is of the Holy Ohost. And she shall bring forth a
son, and thou shalt call his name Jesus : for he shall save his people
from their sins. Matt. i. 20, 21. And when the miraculously con*
ceived son of the Virgin made his appearance among men, an Angel
was sent from the throne of the Eternal to announce his birth to fiie
Shepherds. ^' Fear not :for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great
joyf which shall be to all people. For unto you is bom this day in the
dty of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord/* Luke ii. 10, 11.
When a natal anthem was wanted to celebrate the Advent of the
Ejng of Glorj, then a multitude of the Heavenly Host appeared,
saying, '< Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth peace, good will
toward men/* Luke ii. 14. When Herod, jealous of his Supremacy
in Judea, sought the life of Him who was born King of the Jews,
Joseph was warned by the Angel of the Lord, to " Arise, and take the
young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt/* And when Herod
was dead, behold the Angel of the Lord appeared again unto Joseph,
saying, ^* Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and go into
the land of Israel : for they are dead that sought the young child/ s life/*
Matt. ii. 13, 20. The sufferings attendant on our Lord's in&ncy were
but a faint type of the more av^ul endurance destined to signalise his
maturity ; but when this endurance was stretched to its utmost limits,
in the fearful struggle of the Garden, where his agony found expression
in these words never to be forgotten, '< Father, if thou be vnlling, remove
this cup from me : nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done**— in that
hour, that dark hour of the Bedeemer's History, ^' there appeared unto
Him an Angel from heaven that strengthened Him." Invisible watch-
men, taken from the heavenly host, mingled with the iron sons of
Bome during his brief confinement in the tomb : and on the
morning of the Resurrection they still clung to the hallowed place,
and startled the devoted women who were the first to go thither on
that memorable morning, with the inquiry, ^' Why seek ye the living
among the dead ?** and then again, with the unexpected announce-
ment '^ He is not here^ but is risen/* They did more. They formed
his escort on the day of His Ascension, and conducted Him to His
throne at the Head of the Universe, ^^Far above all principality, and
power, and might, and every name that is named, not only in this
world, but also that which is to come/* Ephesians i. 21.

Nor did their connection with our system cease when their Lord
took << his seat at the Father's right hand in the heavenly places.''
No I they still belong to our economy. In the Ascension, they wit«
nessed the triumph of the Bedeemer's person over all the foes of Media-
torial government, and they still come to this earth to exercise their
benevolent sympathies in marking the triumph of His doctrine over
the Tarious forms of error. When the rebel becomes contrite, some
one of their orders is always present to witness the interesting scene*
No sooner doe» the sinner penitently clasp his hands in prayer— bow

Digitized by VjOOQIC

in the Scheme of Redemption. 253

liis stubborn neck at the Throne of Grace— smiting upon his breast,
and eryiog, ''God be merciful, to me a sinner" than the attendant
Angel carries off the news to the innumerable companj of Angels,
and <' there is joy over one sinner that repentethy more than over ninety
and nine just persons that have no need of repentance.*** Their liyely
interest in such a soul, far from eyaporating in these new-born joys,
continues, from this moment, to increase through the whole course of
his earthly pilgrimage. They hail him as one fitted by the renewal
of his natui*e to be introduced into their fellowship, and in relation to
the intimate connection between them and him, the Apostle speaks ex-
pressly, that they '' are all ministering spirits sent forth to minister for
them who shall be the heirs of salvation ** Heb. i. 14. These celestial
beings attend the saint in all his journeyings through the Wilderness.
fVhere he encampeth, they encamp. Where he joumies, they jour-
ney. He may be but a Worm — a worm of the earth in conflict witfi the
powers of Hell, but he is attended by ''celestial powers," who minister
to him as " the heir of salvation." In the Hour of Temptation they
stand by his side : in the Hour of Tribulation they do not leave him 1
And when they have, by direction of their Lord, attended him through
all the toils and perplexities of life, they do not forsake him in l£e
final struggle. His death to the eye of Sense may be marked by every
sign of discomfort and even of wretchedness. He may fall the victim
of mortal disease, far away from home and friends. No one of kin*
dred blood may attend, in the final scene, to wipe off the mortal sweat
from his clay-cold countenance ! No earthly friend may be there
to whisper into the ears of " the dying," words of spiritual comfort,
or to unfold to his spirit the glorious visions of Christian Hope ; but
the Angels are there, and they are ministering spirits to him who is
forsaken by friends, and kindred, and race ! Their wings form a canopy
of unearthly brightness over him, as often the sun-ray gilds some ruin in
the Wilderness ! His heart is cheered by the assurance that his escort is
in waiting, and when the clay tabernacle fiills under the mouldering
tonch of Death, they carry off the undying part of his frail nature to
the realms of bliss and of immortality ! He is conducted through gates
of Pearl, and over pavements of Gold ! Then, again, there is joy in
Heaven ! over a soul newly-born into the community of the skies.
Those legions who rejoiced over him, when he first gave signs of peni-
tence, now renew their transports as the enfranchised spirit escapes
to Liberty and everlasting Best. Happy day ! when the chain is bro-
ken and the exile is summoned home. Thrice happy soul I who is
escorted to the " great Metropolis" by ministering spirits— conducted
by his elder bret^n to the footstool of the great Redeemer, and pre-
sented before the Throne without spot or wrinkle or any such thing.
The Angels are moved to the study of " these things" by— -
2. Their vast powers of intellect which find in them, subjects adapted
to their loftiest aspirations^ and conducive to their fullest developments
Every person knows that the subjects which a man studies usually
hear some affinity to the character of his mind ; a grovelling mind will
dwell on grovelling subjects — a lofty mind, on lofty themes. You have
sometimes known a narrow soul that could find enough of occupation
in the contemplation of a pin's head— a leaden soul, that was always

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

254 Th€ Initreit uhick Ang$b take

gntTitatiiig towirds the centre i without \m0jnntj9 it eeold nftter be
tempted under way circnmstences to leave terra Jirma / narrow ift the
gmsp of ite faeultiee, it never attempted to comprehend Being in i^litf
▼aitness and varietj. Now, ae there are minda of different meoU,
00 there are varioua kinda of mbfeeU auited to corretponding tjpei
of mental being. It ia with reepect to minda and their varioui
taates, aa it ia with the habita of different kinda of animated Bdngf.
Aa there are some winged creaturea^the butterflj for inatance-^
that flatter from flower to flower in the lower regions of the air» so
there are some minds that find their most congenial element in ths
humblest order of subjects j and aa there are otherSf like the eagle,
which soar to the regions of the clouds, and if they touch the Earth St
all, touch it only where its mountain peaks seem to penetrate into the
skiesi so there are minds that find their purest pleasure in the contem*
plation of the loftiest and in the investigation of the deepeat truths
which Sod Almighty has revealed to fhllen man. Now the f ntelleeti
of the Angels are of the latter class, and they are nobleat apeoimeus of
the dasa to which they belong. Ia the early history of the materiel
universe their fiienlties were disciplined by a Divine Artifloar ; their
first lessons were taken as th^ stood amid the sublime seenas of the
oalerial creation, the delighted witnesses of Jehovah'a power. Each ef
them, might adopt the language of Uriel, in Milton'a magnifioeot
Poem^^

" I saw when at Sis word tb@ formless maesi
This world*8 material mould, came to a heap ;
Confnidon heard his voice, and wild uproar
Stood ral'd, stood vast infinitude oonnn'd i
Till at his second bidding, darkness fled,
lAi^t shone* and order &m disorder sprung ;
Swift to their several quarters hasted umu
The oambrous elemenUr esrtb, ftx>d, air, fine.
And tills ethereal Quintessence of Heaven
Flew upward spirfted with various formSr**

In aUoeioD to the joy Inspired tiirougb all the aogiii^ iiAki» if
these marvellous manifinitations of Divine pow(^9 wiedosi and geoi-
nesii one of the Old Tesliuoent poets aays» in one of the Sneit
paesagea of aneiant Iospirati0n«^^^ The mnming 9Ui/re umg (ppether
and all l*# eom 0/ Chd ehauted f&r jey'' Job »wviii, 7* But
their m^itsl exerdsea did not terminate here. These glorious beings
urhose lofty inteUeeis were first exercised in the contemplation of the
eosnes and processes of the original Creation, were efterwaids em^
ployed in the minutest observance of the course of Providence;^
cloaely c^lieerving the unfolding of the great scheme of Providentisl
arrangements, eqiuaUy in reference to the individual and the natioii—
lo ^he atom« and the woHd. And this study, which atfcnrded intellec-
tual eaereiee lo their mighty fiMMiltieet hee often called forth the leu4
expffcesion of ibeir devotion to Him who dwells in the midet of ^the
eloode and darkneee" whieh environ the JBtemal Thronei ^^ 7%
reU mi day and night, eaying, H^^ hofyy h^ly, L^rd God Almighi^f
whieh iffoe, and is, and i$ ta fi&mfi,*' &ev. iv. B,

But the moat magnifoent field Ibr the display end eaemee of sa

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

in the Schemi qf JR^ehmpHon. 965

Aagerii poweri} i« jfbund in oonneotiosi with tbe «tup6ndou« mftQifM-
tatieai of tb^ Economy of Grace, In the system of Nature, an Angel
has a j^iMiTBp theme for study ; in the revelations of Grace, a theme
wbiob shall continue to expand with the contemplation of it for ever.
Nature indeed is so vast, that an Angel might roam over its wide
fields for ages, finding new seenest and disoovering fresh beauties, every
hour s but the time at length, would oome, when the subject would be
entirely exhausted. Nature may be regarded as a huge Volume, in
which the Divine Being has inscribed a vastf but still limiiedt number
of truths for the mental enlightenment of His intelligent creatures.
This EarUi, with its chemiea^ galvaniOi metallurgic, geological, geo-
graphical} physiologioali and oosmioal relations, forms, so to speai, one
chapter in the Volume, The planet Mercury forms another, and the
Sun, with the other Planets and their Satellites, form so many more
ebapters. The Solw System, then, may be regarded as forming
one Section in this wondrous volume, the system of the nearest
fixed Star another, and so on, to the highest System in the Fir-
mament Well, let us suppose an Angel to tum, with his mighty
intellect, to the e;camination of the vinous sections and the study
of the numerous suceesslve chapters in this great Volume. It is not,
at all, improbable that he would master all the natural truths this
world is adapted to oonvey, in less time than Newton took to learn his
Alphabet,-r-Tand than turning to the other parts of our Section of the
vast whole, he would master them, probably, in less time than our great
Cireumnavigator took to sail round the World. And so he may bp
supposed to proceed, mastering Section afta* Section as he rises higher
and higher in the Firmament until, after ages of oeeupatien, he is
leea en the outskirts of the Universe, mastering the last truth Nature
is adapted to oonvey. And if there were not other fields of Know-
ledge, besides those, over which, we have thus in imagination passed,
for the exercise of an Angel's powers, his last discovery on the onnfines
of Creation would be to him the beginning of sorrows* Left without
other worlds, towards which he might direet his adventurous flight,
and possessed of a soul lai^r than the XJaivarse, he, toOk might weep,
Uke another AJexaiider, because no new theatre remained towards
which his alUsubduing powers might be directed. Thank God,
there is another Voluna besides the Book of Nature ; a volume c^
imaller bulk indeed, but pf brighter discoveries than any whloh the
Volume of Nature contains. This volume is filled with germinant
tnithcti whieh proceed to ftiller and fuller development in the es*-
perienoe of the believer, during the course of unending ages. In
the study of the glorious revelations of God's graee in the Gospel,
the Angela realise, and more than realiae, the boast of the proud Cas-
tiliann>4he Ambassador to one of the Italian Bepublics, soon after
Old Spfun had achieved the eonqueat of the New World. When the
Spaniard was shown the treasures of St. Mark at Venice, he groped,
into the (iasket that he might find the bottom. Whereupon he said,
^^ In this do the treasures of my Master exceed those of your Master,
that my Master's treasures have no bottom 1" Now this was an empty
bea8k,^>«eqaally empty, whether irttered with respeet to iha.lreasttNS

Digitized by VjOOQIC

256 The JnUrest whieh Angels take

of the Republic or of the Monarchy ; but it 19 literal tmHi when
construed of "the unsearchable riches of Christ," — the inexhaus-
tible treasures included in <* these things." There are heights here,
which no Angelic thought was ever able to reach, — depths, which
nothing less than the plummet of Etemitj can fiithom, — and a length
and breadth which you could not measure, though the attempt were
made on the swift wings of an Archangel's Fancj, and prolonged
through myriads of ages!

Away, ^en ! with the vile habit of representing ^Hhese things"
as being adapted to interest only intellects of the most grovelling
order. Away ! with the notion that while Nature is adapted to
exercise the loftiest powers of created intelligences, Bevdation is
only suited to the feeblest class of minds. Never was any thiug
more shallow. And yet men, pretending to be philosophers, have
made such representations. There was that butterfly genius, Motu.
Voltaire (as he loved to be called) who, about a century ago, flut-
tering, over the earth in quest of amusement, used to wonder how the
mighty intellect that discovered and demonstrated the true system of
the Universe, came to study "the Book, called the Bible," and to
credit its fabulous nonsense. Vain and unhappy man ! He would
not have wondered at Newton's devotion to this Book, had he only
realised the fact, which the Apostle here announces, that ANesLS desire
to look INTO THESE THiHOS. Had he really known that an order of
Beings, — ^with faculties so power/itl thai probably the most polished
literature][of man does not extend beyond their alphabet, while his
brightest discoveries reach not above the elementary truths of their
more comprehensive system of the Universe, — are so profoundly inte-
rested in these things, that they regard everything dse as Vanity in
comparison of them ; — had the Arch-Sceptic, I say, but realised
this, he had spared his ridiculous sneer at the expense of this most
iUustrious philosopher, and devout Christian.

The Angels are moved to the study of this theme by— -
3. Their love of moral order, which finds its highest grcOification
in the glorious events which follow in the course of '^ these things" in
this sin-smitten world. Of all created Beings, theg know best what was
the ancient order that prevailed in our moral system. Their recollections
reach back to the period, when our world presented to the eye one
unbroken scene of moral beauty,— -when no jarring sound disturbed the
harmony of the moral world. And if angels could feel sorrow, we may
imagine with what regretful feeling they witnessed the breaking out oi
the great Bebellion, of which this Earth has been the theatre, — ^when
Sin first reared its brazen front on Earth, and sent forth its pestilential
breath only to spread blight and death) over some of the brightest
scenes in the Empire of the Great King. Now the enactment and
the publication of " these things," are Heaven's expedient for putting
down the Rebellion, and whenever a Heathen Oracle Is silenced, or a
Heathen Temple is closed, or a Superstition of any kind ih exploded, an
important step is taken in the direction of the final Triumph. The
Great Bedeemer, in the agonies of Gethsemane, and of Calvary,
saw of the travail of bis soul and was satisfied. He, in one intuitive

Digitized by VjOOQlC

m the Scheme of Redemption. 257

glance took in the whole vision, from the first trinmphs of the Cross
down to the final consummation, when ^^ the kingdoms of this ioorld
shaU become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ'* But
what was matter of instantaneous perception to Him can only be
gradually unfolded to finite intelligences^ however, exalted. The
Angels therefore look attentively into '< these things," in order to
appreciate the bearing of current events on the final issue As
time rolls on, they rec^ve new lessons, illustrative of the power of
'^Christ crucified," as 6od*s grand instrument for the re-establish-
ment of MoKAX Order. Many such illustrations they have witnessed
during the last eighteen hundred years. But the day of Revelation,
in this respect, is not closed ! It has not yet struck twelve on the
great bell of Time ! The Mystery is not yet i^lfilled ! Angels are on
the lookout for still greater events, which, in the. purposes of God,
are destmed to follow in the track of '^ these things !" And while
they joyfully witness passing triumphs, they prepare themselves to
raise the Apocalytic anthem over the final triumph, which, shall
nsher in, the new era of a renovated world ! *^Now is come salvation
andpower^ the honour of our God and of His Christ."
The Angels are moved earnestly to enter upon this study by —
4. A deep personal interest whkh they feel in the issues of ^Uhese
things," in that glorious world to which they belong. It is a mistake
to regard Redemption in all its varied developments as confined to
oar world, of all the worlds which float on the bosom of space, and
to mankind alone, of all God's intelligent creatures* It is true that
this world is the main seene, and mankind are the most deeply inte-
rested of all the subjects of Jehovah, in the marvellous develop-
ments of redeeming grace. But it is not true that this is the only
world where redeeming acts are known, and the race of man the only
intelligent Beings, to whom the developments of Divine Grace bring
aught of interest. Heaven is the final scene of *^ these things," and the
Angels of God have a deep interest in them as well as mortal man.

Wherever an Angel looks in that world in which it is his felicity to
dwell, he finds traces of '* these things." His Eternal Home has
acquired some of its chief attractions through '^ these things."
The Heavenly world has, in all its aspects, been greatly mod&ed
hj the Redeemer's work. Every object there gives evidence to
the influence of <' these things." The Throne around which the
Angels gathered before the enactment of <* these things," was, indeed^
occupied by the symbols of the Divine presence, as the Shekinah in
the Jewish Temple dwelt above the Ark, between the forms of the
Cherubim, but now, in virtue of 'Hhese things," they behold a ^'new
throne" in Heaven, — a new throne occupied by the glorified personality
oftheGrod-man, through whom the Angels as well as man, now approach
the Triune Grodhead. The Heaven of their early recollections was the
place of the Lord of Hosts, and of His holy Angels, and of them
alone; but ^Hhese things" in their efficacious development, have raised
a new class of intelligent Beings to the fellowship of the skies, and the
ianumerable company of Angels have hailed as members of the same
common brotherhood, the general assembly and church of the firstborn

Digitized by VjOOQIC

w^h» grwi moUitodo wbicb no man wn number, of nil ii«Uraf, wA
kindred, «nd pfM>plei and tongue. The Pialmody of H«a?«o, eoa*
listed originally of the Anthame wbiob *^ the Angabi" gong in the
ealebraUon of tba Divina parfaetionsi and of tba Dima worka is
craation and proyidanoe ; but in virttta of *^ thaaa Ibinga," a nw
Qnthem baa h^m addad to tba oonga tf tba akiaa to calabrat^
Ood's ]Mt, graat reth^ming y>ork. Wa read, in tba Bavalation
by Jobni of ranaomad milUona witb tbair barpa falling down bafm
tba Lambi and tinging, a> irnw aoira, ^< Thou art worthy la UAe
the boohi 0ml to open the §eak thereqf; for thou mant #lntm md
hoMt rfide$med u$ to God hy thy bloody out qf every hindreif and
0nguey and people^ and noHon^ and hast made ue unto imr Gait
J^ngs and priests, *' Bav. ¥• 0. Tba << prinolpaliiiaa and powwi ia
baayeoly pbiaaa " may not ba abla to nttar tbaie worda, but tbay too
aing a nw »om ^^^ Join tbe radaemad in a »ong wbicb nayar coaU
haya baan baard in Haavan or on Eartb, but in yirtua of ^' tbaaa tbingi.''
And I bsheld^'^ 9ay9 tba apoatla, ^^andlhsard the voke qf mann
AiTQisi^a round about the throne, and the beasts, and the eldirs t and
the number ofthom was tsn thousand tt$nes ten thousand, and thousands
of thousands, saying, with a loud voioe. Worthy is tha Lamb that m»
slain, to reoeive power, and riohes, and wisdom, and Mirongih, and
honour, and glory ^ and blessing,'* Ray. ▼. Uf Tba key-note of thii
spng may ba toandad by tbe radaamad, but tba Angela iwall the
musia ^Mn itraind of beayenly subUmity and patboi." And thoao
aong9 and choral aymphonias are all due to tbe inflaenaa of << theie
things." It may ba a queition aa to whatbar tba Angela liatmad to
tbe new song of tba redeemed from tba lips of the martyred Abol,
or of tbe peaitani thief, in tba firet initanoe i but tbM« aan be no qnai-
tion that but for tbe enaatmant of <Ubaaa things,'' that song navareoiild
haya baan heard at all Let ua, therefore, join ayery oreaturo that ii
in heaven, and on earth, and under tbe earth, and snob aa are In tbe
sea, and all that are in them, to ory, *' Blessing and honour, and
glory andpowsr, he unto Him that siUeth imon As throne^ and unto
ths Xmk,f^ posiri' Let the angeb of &od auswo^. Amen. And let
eye]7 ransomed soul, through Uie wide world, utter, in loud nHi|ioaM^
Amen and Amen 1

Sut we must elose. The most mtarestiQg aisoeiatioBa an eaHb ai«
subjaet to interruption, and it is with extFema reluctaBoey that we
laaya a tbania on whieh wa might expatiate &r ever. Let us,
boweyer, depart with tbe reeoUaation that wa must be <<ona ia
spirit"— ^ue, in our devotion to "these things." We must, my
brethren, take heed, wherever we go, that our eye be fixed on
the CrQSS->*tbat our minds be ever aequinog enlargement by the
Study of its leasons^and that our bearta be kept in unison with those
noble prineiples whieh found embodiment in the person of <'tho
Crueifled/' Q«l<inys:B I take your stand at the foot of the Orosa,
and join in tbe exclamation of the great apostle of the Gentiles. << Bat
Qod forlnd that I should glory, save in the Gross of our Lord Jssui
Christ," And 8INNEB let mo exhort you to flee to the Croas, si
the liepe set before you by Infinite Grace, There is no Security for

Digitized by VjOOQIC

in the Scheme qf Redemption, 259

jon, bat under the sbeltar of tbe Cr<m !— ^on9 of the blessings of the
New Covenant for you, bat hj faitb in the blood of the Cross ! Flee
then to that Cross ! to which you are directed by monitory gouijds
from all parts of the Universe. Heaven and Hell concur in regarding
it, as the only Refuge for lost linji^rs. We too, woulcl take our stand
tWet mi feol tlx9 savipg pow«r of Him who boro our gins ^'Ir bis
own body cu the troa«- ' And w# would oxhort poori loat mmn^
of every elaM, in the worde of the Ba0iiti to ^^JSeMd ih$ Lmib ^ God,
that tak$th away the Hm of the wo^W^ Ai in tha Oamp of Israel, when
the flying fiery ^et^^n^^had 9tung the Israelites, the 4yinj§f people were
greeted, by tjie prophet of the Lord to look on the foramen serpent, i»
order to their recovery ; so, now it is the proylpae of God's Amfcas-
Bftdors to nrg# the m-stung soul to look to the Cross and be saved*
Itb still, look md live I Then let usi Look and live ! My bretbreni
let ns atf Look ftnd Liva l*^Loak and Uvo 70Ji W9M9, i

A UINIBTER'S WIPE.

Ths duties of a minister's wife do not diffier essentially from those of the
W1& of sny o^ber ChristiAu. The domestic eircle is the mportent sphere <^
wowsn's activity I and the duties that engage her there, rowst, on the wbele,
be ponsidfijrtd the same in ^y^Tj priyate family, The time of a pasterns
wife is as much needed and occupied at home as that of any other wife^
And no minister, who understands the conditions of his peimanent influence

^r gaod upon the people of his chergei will desire her to es^ehange her
ms»t imnoeed by GedL for such lahonrs as a &Ise spirit of the age demands*
The officjA duties of t4e ministry helong to the hoshand; Ae has been §^
woed to the works bis wiiSs is his helpmate in this partienlar ealUng.
^m^ she need net he the president of every benevelenf ssseciation in the
»er^|elii» J nor need eb^jfo ftom house fo house to pay pastoral visits^
To visit the siek and tbe.afflfcted, and mingle with the poor and the rich

families of the congregation, is indeed a part of her duty; hut not ef the

tet importaoeer She ought to sympathise with her husband in his studies,
M^jMsteral lii^, and in bis trmls; manege all bis domestio a^aips to the
w sawtpjje J ehe^ and eonsole bim in nie d^rk hoers \ aod go bawd in
Jwa w^ bin. so far as the position of ber ses will alJow# in bie eudeaveuffli,
y the Bse of aU proper means, to promote fte inher/est qi Christ's kiogdo».
^ m should indeed be etemplary \ but eo should that of eveij Qbr^ian
Ifif 09. She should be aealous m ^nrj good work ; but pot m those wbie^
b^tositothieiniwstrFr

.«p eue wUl deny ftiat ber position is liferent from that of a l«^ma»>
^w» She is indeed a oity set on a hill, But none of the duties ofa wim
fijw to be here, beeause ber busbend is a miuister of the Gospel, @be
^ r* *^® *^^^ ^^ * minister; this is all-=-that is, her whole charujcter
and life should he adapted to the solemn vocation of b^r husband. In this
respect only is her position pee«diar \ f^i importieftt in the highest sense of
uie term,

Tbelujsb^ should h^ a pattern pf a minister end a pastor; not pf fem^Jp
cwtitatipn and refinement. His wife rfionld he a pattern of a npinister's
wycj-j-pot of a female p^tpr gr of a female reformer. %? positipn of wo-
ffiw to as elev^ted^ and Jier power fpr good as great, as that of man. %f
tbpir proper relation, boweyer. he destroyed, hioth ar^ at the same time in-
cited and degraded/

Let a woman he a wprnjeut, and a 9ian he a man ; hujb i^rpe to the world
^en women become men, for then men will become women.— &er. MeK

Digitized by VjOOQIC

260

GERMS OP THOUGHT.

DIVINE FELLOWSHIP.
«< And tndy ow feUowthip is with the Father, and with the Son Jesus Christ**-

1 John i. 3.

The word ' fellowship,' as used in the New Testament, seems to denote
communion, participation, to share tcith, the enfot/ment of something in com'
tnon. Christians, ' have fellowship one with another.' They are snhjeGts
of a common Lord, common experience, a ' common salvatioxL' and a common
destiny. They 'assemhle themselves together,' and 'speak often one to
another' for their common benefit. Hence a Christian church is ' a fellow-
ship of saints.' They have not ODly fellowship with each other, but ' with
the Father^ and with his Son Jesus Christ' They have communion, parti-
cipation with God. Fellowship with the Divine Being, however, does not
mean equality with Him. Men generally associate with their equals. The
Deity cannot do this, for He has no equaL He is infinite, — we are finite.
Though we commune with Him, the disparitv remains. Nor does it mean
that we share everything with God. In tne pnysical universe God pafomu
His work without man. The sun rises and sets, the sea ebbs and flows, the
earth rolls and the seasons return ; the thunder roars and the lightnings
flash; the inundation sweeps the valley, and the tornado tears up the
gigantic trees on the mountain side without the intervention of man. la
His moral government man is frequently His agent or instrument, bat
never His counsellor or associate. Nor is the fellowship in an eqoal
degree, — man's participation being circumscribed by his nature. TfaiB
fellowship is—

I. By Faith.

* No man hath seen God at any time.' He can neither be seen, nor heard,
nor felt. He has neither colour, tangibility, nor audability. It is not a
fellow^ip of sense, but of faith. < The just shall live by faith.' £vea
those manifestations of God of which the senses take cognizance, are appeals,
not to sense, but to intelligence and faith. ' We walk bjr faith, not by sight'
God must ever be, to a spirit enshrined in flesh, an object of fldth, — ^mith
not wiUiout, or in opposition to intelligence, but intelligent fedth.

II. Intellectual.

* Come and let us reason together.' Beligion is a ' reasonable,' or rational,
* service.' It must be done with the * understanding.' God ha« appealed
to the intelligence of man through the physical universe. ' The heavens
declare the elory of God.' And this, had man been a rational creature
merely, might possibly have been sufficient An intelligent being he is,
and sometmng more ; so mere intelligence will not compass the whole of
his nature or his wants. The intellect perceives and approves of God u
manifested in the physical works of his hands. Human reason, on rational
grounds, is satisfied, and delights to hold fellowship with God. Beasonin?
may pervert the subject and clamour for something more, but tiie unvitiated
light in man corresponds with the evidence without, and ' Gk>d is seen by
mortal eye,' *' I hear thee in the summer breeze.

See thee in all that's pure and fair ;
Thy whisper murmuring in the trees.

Thy breath, thy Spirit everywhere."
The soul communes with God in His Word. * O how love I thy law ! it is
my meditation all the day.' It contains a more direct and specific revda-
tion of God. It adapts itself to the diversities of men's nature, states of
feeling, and circumstances. The written text is the unerring standard of
appeal in all ages and in all nations. It is clear, full, and inSdlible on the
great question of man's salvation, and through it the b^man soul holds
f fellowship with the Father, and with his son Jesus Christ' God appears

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Germs of Thought. 261

0 man's intelligence bj the inward reyelation of his Spirit. The manifes-

itionof theT -...-..-... -

f the Spirit 1

ieiit;'andthen to 'receive' of Christ, I ^-^

evelations of the Spirit correspond substantially with those of the Word,
}r the Word is generally the instrument of his operations* He brings the
rath to our remembrance, applies it with power, and ' helps onr infirmities.*
^e < Hto in the Spirit,' ' walk in the Spirit,' are ' filled with the Spirit/ and
our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus ChristJ

III. MOBAL.

It is a communion in which the heart is largely concerned. Man is a
Doral being. This quality is his distinguishing excellence* Mere intelleo*
ual fellowship therefore will not suffice. There mnst be exercise for his
iffectioDS, his conscience, his imagination. ' My son, giye me thy heart.'
With the heart man believeth unto righteousness.' The heart is vitalised,
ud sanctified, and fiUed with the love of God. The soul is blessed with a
ielightfid consciousness of the Divine presence, as clear and satisfactory to
;he moral sense as revealed truth is to the understanding:. ' The Spirit
kimself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God.*
[t becomes a sharer of the nature and purity of the Divine Being. Believers
ve ' partakers of the divine nature,' and ' partakers of his holiness.' There
is, then, sympathy, deep and earnest, with the moral plans of God> and
conformitv to all his moral precepts. There is harmony, though not equality,
between the soul and God, with whom it holds fellowship. There is harmony
of will, of feeling, and of purpose, and this, in great measure, is both the
pbilosophy and the design of the plan of redemption. < But we all, with

ri face, beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into
same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the I^rd,*

IV. Evangelical.
The soul communes with God and Christ, or with God through Christ.
'I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life ; no man cometh unto the Father,
but by me.' Man, in his original state, held fellowship with God like a
child with his father.. There was no need for a special medium or mediator.
Created as man was, it was natural for him to hold communion with his
father. But his sin has altered his position. He can no longer hold fel-
lowship with God in virtue of his original relation and capacity. This
priTilege has been irretrievably forfeited. He can neither claim nor regain
It Hence the necessity of a special arrangement of a Divine interposition.
'There is one God, and one Mediator between God and men, the man Christ
Jesas.' Christ is the medium of approach to God, and of blessing to man.
He is the * only way* unto the Father. The Bible may be received as a
divine revelation ; the ordinances and institutes of religion may be con*
fonned to; but if Christ, as our Mediator and Saviour, be rejected, die soul
cauiot hold fellowship with God. He can admit us into His presence only
According to the provisions of the evangelical system,
y. Exalted.

It is fellowship with Ood, the King of hingst and Lord of lords ; creator^

of souls ;— with truth, purity, benevolence, and all that is just, good, honest
lovely, and of good report. It is the noblest, sublimest, and most elevated
fellowship unto which man can attain*

VL Intimate.
^ Qod dwells in us, and we in Him. * Christ in you the hope of elory.*
A man in Christ.' It is not a cold, distant, formal, reserved feUowship, but
UTiDg, cordial, and intimate. It is a communion of mind and of heart, of

Digitized by VjOOQlC

26S Biography ofFrancii OaienUy of Stocktan-on'Tees.

natufei lyfli^thy, ftiid objeot, tittly more ItitimAt* Hum ttM fliMNit,
tendtrmit nktion Mitoiig inefl«
VII. PBAcmoAL.

The Ohrlrtian beooffiM A ' oo-workcr together with GM.' Hft Mnami
irith Him Id his eloMt, his Ikmllf » and in the ordlnauMi of MUtfkm. H«
rtndtfrt Mtit« tenrioa to tlio oauso of Qod^ and dedioatot hii alf td flk.
Bf try InMtittitkm oalealatod to honottr Ood and beiiMt tnati has a ahanin
his tyttpathy and sttpport. 'Not slotkftil in traflineiMi. ftrtent in i^t,
serving tha Lord.' Ha is a man in tho worid« loading It on and 6lm%
its moral character ; but not of the world in its spirit and iOlldsneitli 'U
any man Ioto tho irorld. tho kto of tho Vatkor is not In him/ tiae,
tftioatt iflfluonse, and woaith aM oouooMtod to tho ftortiooof God oaltha
hA|)pins8S of man.
VIIL TwunfftVAL,

In snashlno and in shado^ in protpority and adf^rsi^, in hMltb lod
sieknttSi at homo and abroad, alone and in eompany, tho Ohristiafi ma M
fellowship with Ood« Nothing need separato him from the ftatlmir,bBt
oTory OTont of his lifls may, by the blessing of Ood^ tead him noarsr to ' t)»
spring of all his Joy.' He will finally hold fellowship with Ood in hMTn,
where ho will ' see him as he is.' This commnnion will be dirsot snd ioti-
ntato-^a fellowship not of faith, but of ' sight.' It will be on a larff^ seali,
beholding Jeho?ah * as he is*--in the fulness of his glory and perfeetiooi It
will bo sternal, fbr at God's ' right hand there are pleasures for wttrnm

1» How great the loss which man sustained by sin l-^tk loss fbf whidh
nothing can compensate, fbr nothing can yield tho same amonnt of good u
fellowship with God.

9. What a privilego to be restored to this fellowship I How MtfaMiii
Christ through whom We onjoy * fellowship with tho Father,' ana an iiud«
* partakers of the divine nature and holiness.' C

BIOailJLPHT.

FRANCIS OATBNLEY Of STOCiTON-ON-TMS.

'^BtoORAPHY is a feeble struggle with death.** But it is a struggle tbtu
in many instances worth makmg. It is prompted by some of the beit
instincts of our nature, as well as countenanced oy the intimatioufl of m
Scripture. Our hearts oliuff to the memory of dear Mends, and whes we
can no longer retain thenuwlves among us, we are anxious to procure thitf
likeness axid enshrine the story of their history^ as well as the portniton
of their character, in imperishable writing. It is the Book of God that bai
said, both that *' the memory of the Just is blessed," and« '< that the joit
shall be had in everla8tin|f remembrance." How much of the sacred book
is itself biographic t Neither is there any branch of human literatois tbt
is more interesting and instructive than well-written biographies.

It is an agreeiu)le task that is imposed on the writer Inasmuoiisiflfi
whose life I have to sketch was one who ought not to be foraotten— one in
Inference to whom the spontaneous tribute rising to the ups of all ^°J
knew him is, '| Francis Gatenley was a good man«*' He was not bleiiM
with extraordinary mental endowments, though he had native shrewdaea
and ffood common sense, nor by civic honour or distinction, though ft&
uprignt citizen and an honest man } but he was distinguished by ^^^J^
common moral excellency and by genuine spiritual Worth. He had been
a true Christian for the third part of a centuir, and his glorious trismpQ
over the last enemy was a meet and sublime finish of a life well ipeBf-
" Mark the perfect man and behold the upright, for tho end of that man u
peace." ^

Francis Gatenley was bom at Oarthorpe, a village in Yorkshire, Apni

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Mojfrapkf oftVundi Uaitntiy 9/ SiOekton'^'Teft. 2)08

2od, laos, ind diid ftt Stookt6ii«oti-l!«ei on tho 19tb of Jamiai^, 1S57. His
father WM a pioui Spuoopalian *, hi« mothet & d^Tottt Methodist. His Uf«i
nntil foartMn yeum of agO) was Sfient tmdet* tlie paMiital roof, and beneath
the watohful ffuardiafiship of the pat«ntal eye. That eye was remarkably
obierra&t) ind the discipline to whioh Francis was su^ected remarkably
Btriot. His mother won strongly on the alfections of yonng f'raneiS) and he
chiriahed an aAiotionate reverence fbr her name to the close of his life.
lie was a grateful and reverent son* He neter remembered disobeying his
pirsiito but onee, when he went to a village Fair contrary to their com-
mands. He was severely corrected for it, and such was his regard for their
aathority, that such correction neter needed to be repeated. xTaturally he
had a veiy kind and waim heart, though his manner w«s often shy, reeertedi
a&doooL

From the qniet home of his childhood and the ruitlc sceiiee of his native
TiUagei he removed to Leedsi when he WM fourteen years of age. Here ha
Icanisd the trad* of a grocer, and had the advantage of living with an elder
brother and sister, who were pious and consistent members of the Methodist
Sooiety. It was while residing in LeedS} witnessing active domestic piety,
and attending on a fidthfal ministry, surrounded by religion in its imposing
and attractive aspects, that he became the happy subject of ^ the washing of

Xeratimi and the renewing of the Holy Ghost" fie ever remembered
sineere gmtitude to Qod his religious privileges and enjoyments at
Lfesdi. He has even been heard to say, that he would rather have lived on
btead and water^ enjoying such happy religious fellowship as was his privi«
legs at Leeds, than have been surrounded by all the luxuries of this life,
where there wa« spiritual barrenness. *'To be carnally minded Is death,
bat to be spiritually minded is life and peace.''

He removed f^om Leeds to York, about the close of the year 1892.
While there he was in the employ of one man for more than seven
Tears. When he left York for Stockton, in 1830, his employer presented
bim with a beautiful gilt pocket Bible, •' as a mark of esteem due for the
ikithfttl discharge of his duties, as shopman, for upwards of seven years.'*
Boring his stay At York he was a member of the Methodist Society, and
NO^ht to do good by labourinof as a Sunday-school teacher and a prayer
leader. He was very panctual in his attendance on his duties in these
offloeit tnd unwearied in his efforts to do good.

At the formation ot the Protestant Methodist Society, in 1827— sympa^
tbisiog with those who left the parent society as ill-used men— he united
with them, and to the close of life remained a sincere friend of liberal
Mtthcdisffl. On removing to Stockton, at the latter end of 1830, and find-
m uo aeparated societyi rather than forego the pleasures and advantages of
Mithodirt means of grace and Chrisnan fellowship, he again united
uaulf to the parent Soeiety, by whom he was soon appointed a leader of a
utN. Here he pursued the even tenor of his way, eiyoyinK the confidence
of hii Ohristian brethren, and working to harmony vfith the Church, until
fte memorable Methodistic year of 1885» During that year the Methodist
Societies were extensively agitated on matters of Church government, A
«^ appeared from Stockton in the '* Ohristian Advocate" newspaper.
Brother Qaienley was suspected as its author— and because he refused to
Mtiaff the sttperlntendent minister aud others that he was not its
Mther, he was declared to be no longer eligible to flU the office of
JjHdsr. The members of his class, all, with one exception, sympa-
jWilni with him as a man unjustly condemned, requested him still
"> tt»««t them, which he did for four months. As the ministers
aad offieers refosed to re-instate our departed brother, four local
Pjwhsrs, one leader, and several members of Society, out of sympathy
Jlth hia and the principles for which he iuflfered, voluntarily withdrew
Q^om the Methodist Society, and m the month of October, 1835, formed a

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

264 Biography of Frands Gatenhy of Stockton-on-Tees.

separate Societj, under the name o£. the Weakrfan Methodist Asflociation.
Thus our departed brother mav be regarded as m an important sense, the
£Either of the Association in this town. The brethren who came out with
him are, many of them, still liying, and four were pall-bearers and chief
mourners at his fnneral. I may be allowed to say, that Brother Gatenley
had no knowledge of the eziBtence of the letter that he was accused of
having written until he was shown it in print. When will Christians learn
to practise the charity which thinketh no eyil ?

To the liberal principles of the Association our brother remained strongly
and consdentiousiv attached to the close of his life.

Soon alter the rarmation of the Association Society he was called by the
Church to eneage in preaching the Gospel as a local preacher. He is spdcen
of by those who know him well, as an earnest and very faithful preacher of
the faithful saying. What he did in the pulpit or elsewhere he did with
all hu miffht. His deep and strong feelings poured themselves out in a
stream of kind, earnest, and faithful address ; and though his manner mi^t
not bespeak familiarity with the Graces, and though hu impetuosity of feel-
ing led nim to dispense with that exact method tluit some admire, yet there
were thgse who always heard him with profit and pleasure, and he was fui
without seals to his ministry. Frequently would he reward his hearers with
unexpected, racy, and somewhat original remarks, and all felt that the man
was in earnest, and " knowing the terrors of the Lord he sought to persuade
men." He was veiy exact and punctual in attending his several appoint-
ments, and never was known through carelessness, indifference, or mqne to
disappoint a congregation. His last sermon was preached at Middlesbro*,
about four months before his death, his text on that occasion being the sig-
nificant one, ** The living know that they shall die.*' That night sevexu
souls were converted to Uod. Whether in his prayers or preacSdng, there
was an earnestness and even impetuosity of manner that bespoke the sin-
cerity and real fervour of the man. I have seldom met with a man who
impressed me as having a more genuine and sincere sympathy for perishing
sinners. He was at home in a revival, and deeply aid he deplore the
abfence of revivalism in the Church. When the news of the oanse of God
being in prosperity was made known to him, sincerely did he praise the
source of all good for visiting his people.

Perhaps there is nothing in which a man's true character and heart are
more truthfolly exhibited xsmsxl in his free and confidential letters to his
friends. It is in them that he pours out his whole soul, and you see him as
he is. I have pleasure in introducing here a characteristic letter, written by
our departed brother luder deeply interesting circumstances. He had josC
received a letter from one of his own sisters, informing him of a gracioiis
revival of religion that was begun in his native vilkge. Amongst the
number of the saved was a dear brother who had often been the subject
of Francis' prayers. At the same time the little Church at Stockton hid
recently been visited with a shower of heavenly grace. The letter is
dated ** Stockton-on-Tees, February 22, 1841." It is as follows—

" Dear Sister, — ^Your letter to me was good news, and glad tidings of
great joy to my sool. Just about an hour uter I received your letter Ihad
to go and talk a little in our Chapel, to the people, about their predou
souls ; and really, when I saw my brother Thomas's name in the letter, it
put firesh life and energy into my soul. I have, this last two months back,
been led oat in prayer that God would convert all our dear friends and
relations, and that I might hear such glorious news as you have sent me.
I was dreaming, a few nights since, that I was talking to my brother
Thonias, with tears in my eyes, about his precious soul. I luive felt much
for his eternal welfare. Glory be to God ! Glory be to God ! I hope yoa

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Francis Gatenley of Stockton-on-Tees. 265

will look after the precioas souls that God has converted to himself. Tliey
will need jonr prayers, and, especially, a good example set them by all the
people of Grod at Carthorpe. Endeavour to bear with the little faults of
each other, and convince the sinners at Carthorpe that there is a reality in
the religion that you profess to enjoy, by your conduct and deportment in
the world ; and then you will not prove to be a stumbling-block to those who
have recently been brought to God. And I have no doubt that God will
continue to reyivo his work among you, and that you may have the whole
village converted to God, if you are all faithful to your God, and loving to
each other.^ O let the people of Carthorpe see that you love one another.

" Dear sister, yon sav truly, when you say that it would rejoice my soul
to be among you. Tell my brother Thomas that he has put more joy into
my heart by his coming to God than I can express, and I cannot help
shedding many tears while 1 am writing to you ; and there are his wife
and daughter too. Glory, glory, elory be to God. Tell brother Thomas to
mind and have family prayer, ana keep outside of the public-house, never
entering but when necessary business calls him. I shall be glad to hear
that the work of God is still going on amongst you. You shall have my
prayers.

** Dear sister, I want to tell you how I am getting on in the way to
heaven. I feel while I am writing to you that I am very happy in the love
of God, and that the work of God is prospering in my soul : and I do not
know that I ever felt more determined to be on the Lord's side than I do
at present. I desire an interest in all your prayers that I may be kept
humble and faithful unto death, and have the happiness of meeting you all
in heaven. In our Society at Stockton we have had a week set apart for
Kevival meetings, and God has been powerfully amongst us : and, glory be
to God, he has saved about fifteen souls, his people have been quickened and
revived, and we are looking for still greater things than these."

The foreeoing letter will show of what spirit Brother Gatenley was.
Who can help praying for an increase of such a spirit among the people of
God.

I ought to have stated that our departed Brother was married and became
a housekeeper in 1836, and his surviving partner says that a better husband
never lived. To her he was uniformly and always kind. No sooner had he
a house of his own than God had an altar in that house, and tothe close
of his life, morning and evening worship was performed by him. On
taking possession of the house in which he died, ere the furniture was all
placed m it, himself and the minister united in prayer, and during his last
illness he said, that as the house, from his first building it, had been a house
of prayer, he hoped that it would continue to be so. He was a man of one
^k. He had a remarkable, and, to the close of his life, an increasing
love for the Bible. He said he was always discovering new beauties in its
sacred pages. With all his heart and soul he could sing —

When quiet in my house I sit,

Thy book be my companion still,
My joy thy sayings to repeat,

Talk o*er the records of thy will.
And search the oracles divine ;
Till every heart-felt word bo mine.

Our dear brother was remarkably kind-hearted and hospitable. The
ministers of God were always welcome to his house and table. The first
time I called to see him, I thought at first his manner was cold and some-
"what reserved and shy. He opened, however, as does a flower, gently and
S^oally. From that day to the day of my last visit, his character and

T

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

266 Biography of Francis GaUnUy of Siocktof^-on^ Tm.

heart seemed to me to be opening. My pleasure in vintittg him ^w gnda-
ally and continually. I felt his conversation to increase in mtera^ and
the savonr of his speech and presence became more richly and divinelj
refreshinsr. I never saw a man evince more deep and heartfelt aatiifaotion
than he &d on hearing of the signs of prosperity in the Circuit. Ofttn did
he say encouraginely, '< yon onght to thank God and take courage." Having
watched over, and deeply sympathised with, the Wesleyan Assidation in
Stockton for the last twenty years ; having offered np prayer with strong
crying and tears for its welfare ; he was most happy ere he died to lee a
hearty union between ourselves and the Reformers so happily eflbcted ; and
to leave the Church and Circuit in a promising and prosperous oonditioa vaa
to him a matter of great satisfaction and joy. He was fflad to be at peace
with all his Christian brethren, and to say with his latest tnvath, in referenee
to the Church that he had been for twenty years nnitod with— *< Peace be
within thy walls, and nrosperity within thy places : For my brethren and
companions* sakes I wulnow say, Peace be within thee.** When I told lum
in one of my last visits to him, that we never met in social or public worahip,
but we remembered and prayed for him, and often by name, be wept
profusely, and with very deep emotion said, " Praise the Lord. Pndae the
Lord.** He set a high value on the prayers of the Church, and spoke verr
gratefully of the very acceptable visits of the offieers of the Chnrdu 1
greatly enjoyed my various visits to him during his illness. On one
occasion, just before I left him, he said, " I have often given out that vene,"
alluding to the fact with much interest —

Let us take up the cross
Till we the crown obtain,

And gladly reckon all things loss
So we may Jesus gain.
I said, *^ My brother, my visits to you are made a great blessing to myaeir'
" They are,*' said he, '* made a blessinff to me. Yours is a blessed work."
And 6, to visit such saints as he in tneir dying moments, is blessed work
indeed. There was about him such child-like simplicity, such child-like
love, such childlike gratitude, such child-like affection ; so much of Jesus,
so much of heaven, that it was indeed good to be there. The week
before his death I said, "Brother Gateuley, if we should improTe
your death, we shall not have to apologise for you as we sometimes
have for people." Said he, in reply, '*You may say as little about
me as you like, but as much about the Saviour as you can. I am a
poor sinner, saved by grace. I have tried to do a little for Ood,
and though I am an unprofitable servant, I have not been without
success." It was remarkable, and it was remarked by all who visited him,
in his last moments, that the nearer he approached his end the richer
became the influence that surrounded him and the happier was hia sool.
More than one who has been much in the habit of visitinff the dying, laid,
that they had never witnessed a more happy and triumphant death than
his. Never were the well-known lines of Dr. Young {more truly verified,
than in his case—" The chamber where the good man meets his rate is pri-
vileged beyond the common walks of virtuous life close on the verge of
heaven." I here quote from Brother Francis Bell, to whom I have been
much indebted for my knowledge of the facts recorded in this narrative, as
they had been personally acquainted for more than thirty years, and much
mixed up in business transactions:— '* Our dear brother's health was en-
dently declining for twelve months before his departure ; but during the
last seven or eight weeks of his life he was confined to his house. I visited
him several times during his illness, and when I first spoke to him conoern-
ing his state of mind, he seemed to have a desire for the sake of the Chorcfa,
and through attachment to, and sympathy with, tiie partner oi his joys and

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Si^ffta^hy 0/ Mrsi Nanny Ifhitahtr n/Stoekp^rL 267

sorrowB) to reinain a while longel* below ) but in this he was sttbrniBsive to
the Divine will. The neater he approached to hii latter end, he seemed,
erery time I saw him, to be increasinglj resigned to the will of his Father
in heaven. I sat up with him daring the last night but one of his life, and
then foand him tnilj happy in the lore of Qod ; and thoujgh he complained
of instances of personal unfaithfulness, his confidence of his acceptance with
God, through the love and merits of Jesus Christ, remained firm and un-
shaken. I asked him if, in this solemn testing time, he found die doctrines
which he had preached to others strictly true P He replied with great
earnestneas and delight, < 0 yes^ and Christ is predous.* He also rejoiced
to know that peace and harmony appeared to reign in the Church, and he
said, 'Live to God, and try to help on the cause of Christ.* I visited him
for about an hour during the last night of his life, and at the first sight
of his death-stricken countenance, I thought that his dissolution was abeat
to take place ; but he rallied again, and his soul being exceedingly happy
he pronounced, with deepest emotion, that sweetest of names, Jbsus ! and
lifting ap his hands he gasped, * Up ! up T His wife said, ' My dear, are we
to tell them that you are going to Jesus P ' and he said, ' Yes ! yes ! ' At
his own and Mrs. Qatenley 's request I enga^^ed in prayer ; and while we
were engaged a blessed heavenly influence filled the room, and, as well as
his fast faiUng- strength would allow him, he joined us in praising God and
the Lamb. 1 then took my farewell of him till we meet where Siere is no
more death."

He died early on the following morning, caltnly reposing on the atone-
ment of Jesus, having power given him to triumph over the last enemy.
His death was' improved by the writer to yery lar^e conetegations at Stock-
ton, Hartlepool, and Middlesbro*, from a text selected lay the departed^ a
text embodying what is no doubt the wish of both writer and readers,
" Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his."

Edmund Hbtwood.

MEMOm OF MRS. NANNY WHITAKER OF STOCKPORT.

** I beurd a voice from heaven saying unto me« Write, blessed are the dead which die
in the Lord from henceforth: yea, saith the spirit^ that they may rest from their la-
boan, aad thair works do follow them/^ Aev. xiv. 13.

The estimable subject of this memoir, was bom at Burnley, in the county
of Lancaster, on the 22nd of January, 1792, of poor but upright parents.
Her father, Richard Lord, was a strict churchman. He departed this life
when Nanny was about four years of age. Young as she was, she seemed
to think that she was not too young to receive good adirice \ his dying
counsel to her, was, " Be a good girl and do what is right, and good will
come to yOu." This was not lost upon her, it was a nail in a sure plaoe, the
impression made was indelible ; these words of her father often returned to
her, and the remembrance of the solemn circumstances under which they
were spoken, caused them to be more regarded, and gave tbem greater
weight. Christian parent, in the morning sow thy seed. Embrace the
earliest and most favourable opportunities to counsel and encourage the
child of thy bosom. Earlv impressions are generally deep and lasting. If
the blessed God shall be pleased to uphold thy reason in the solemn hour of
death, and if physical sufibring do not prevent, then give to thy children
who hang around thee thy last advice and blessing. The lessons which
they may have failed to learn from the example and efforts of thy life, may
not be imparted in vain from the bed of death. A parent's dying counsel
w not soon forgotten.

t2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

268 Biography of Mrs. Nanny WhUaker of StockporL

The mother of oar departed friend heing left with three childreDi all
girls, in a oomparative state of poverty, uie was obliged to have them
early trained to labour. Nanny had to be carried from her home to the
mill, to learn to pull at the spinning-wheel before she was five years
of M[e, and to begin her work every morning as early as five o*clock, having
at the same time to fare hard with respect to food and clothing. In this
way she continued to toil tUl she was twelve or fourteen years of age.
Every philanthropic mind must greatly reioice that since that time the
hours of factory labour have been shortened, and that now children may
not be employed in this way at such an early age as they were then.

When our departed sister was a child, the educational and religious advan-
tages of the young were by no means what they are now. Sabbath schools
were tJien scarcely commenced in this country. There was nothing of this
Idnd in the neighbourhood where many resided, and having no one to care
for her spiritual state, she wandered on the LordVday in the fields or other
places as her inclination led her. But she soon began to think that this was
not right, and her young heart was troubled. She was dissatisfied with her
ways, and desired to do better. Thus the Holy Spirit early commenced his
gracious operations within her, producing conviction and good desires.
And great was the goodness of God to this fiEitherless child, in keeping her
from many evils to which she was exposed, and which children in like cir-
cumstances often practice. In after years she was unspeakably thankful to
'* the God of all grace" for the restraining grace which was bestowed apoa
her in childhood and youth.

It appears that while labouring in the mill, she often thought that
if she were in another situation, and her circumstances improved, she
should be better able to attend to what was good. This thought she
cherished, and frequently did she lift her heart in prayer to God that
her station might be altered for the better. VVlien she was about four-
teen years of age, she was offered a situation of service in a very respec-
table family in her native town; this offer she accepted, and she en-
tered upon her new duties in remembrance of her father's dying advice,
and witJi a determination to endeavour to please and give satisfaction ; and
there is reason to believe, from what she has been heard to say, that she
sought help of the Lord in prayer. Her efforts and prayers were not in vain.
She was enabled to resist temptations to which she was exposed, for which
she has often expressed her gratitude to God, and by cheerfally and dili-
gently doing her duty, she gamed the esteem of her master and mistress,
and it was not long before tney appeared to place unbounded confidence in
her. They were very kind to her, and for this she alwavs testified her gra-
titude. It is too often seen that young females in such situations become
vain and giddy, and display great weakness of mind in the love of fine
clothes, but this was not the case with our deceased sister. She disliked
useless and extravagant finery in dress, and as she grew older, this feeling
increased. She had a mind which could not feed on pageantry. Her own
condition being improved, she was considerate of her kmdred. Instead of
consuming her wages upon herself, she gladly assisted to support her
mother, and an afiiicted sister ; and she did this not for a short time, but
according to her ability as long as they lived. This was no more tiian her
duty, it was highly honourable to her, and she did not lose herieward.
Verily, in no case shall such conduct go unrewarded.

In youth our departed friend was thoughtful and frugal, and she so con-
ducted herself in all matters, that she was beloved by the family in which
she lived, and by a large circle of friends by whom she was surrounded.
At that time she was accustomed to attend the Established Church on the
morning of the Lord's-day in her turn, and she had the privilege of at-
tending the Wesleyan Chapel in the evening. "WTien she embraced the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mrs. Nanny Whitaker of Stockport. 269

Saviour, and foiind peace with God is not precisely known. It is certain
that she was a member of the Methodist Society, and enjoyed religion some
time before her marriage. This event took place when she was about
twenty-four years of age. She was married from the kind family whom she
had faithfully served from her youth, and the object of her choice was her
now bereaved partner Mr. John Whitaker. She did not take this impor-
tant step without serious thought and earnest prayer. On both sides the
union was believed to be providential, and our deceased friend determined
to do her utmost to make the partner of her life happy and successful. To
this determination she remained faithful, and she rejoiced in the accomplish-
ment of her object. She looked wcil to h^r liouse, and had everything so
arranged, that her husband always felt home to be an attraction and a
delight.

Soon after their union they removed from Burnley, and entered upon a
new situation in the employ of G. Fishwick, Esq. or Scorton, a village near
Lancaster ; here they founa a people fearing Grod, and working righteous-
nes!^. Mr. Fishwick and his lady were both converted to God, and living in
the enjoyment of religion ; and they took a lively interest in the spiritual
welfare of our departed sister and her husband, so that by their kmd and
pious efforts they were much encouraged and strengthened in the ways of the

One evening, shortly, after their removal to this place, as they were sitting
together after the labours of the day, religion was the subject of their conver-
sation, and our dear sister was much interested, especially while conversing
on the subject of family prayer ; such prayer was believed to be a duty,
and its importance was felt and acknowledged ; and, after much reasoning
and persuading, a deteimination was made, and the duty was performed
that night in their home for the first time. After this family worship was
ren^ularly performed twice a day, and with feelings of interest and pleasure,
as well as from a sense of duty. When her husband was away from home,
oar departed sister took his place at the altar of the household, and lifted
her voice in thanksgiving and prayer. In their opinion unnumbered bless-
ings were bestowed upon them in answer to their prayers at the family
altar. While residing at Scorton, our sister made great j)rogress in the
divine life, and became deeply pious. Her whole soin was in the work of
the Lord, she was strongly attached to his people, and the means of grace
were her delight, the class-meeting in particular, and no trifle could prevent
her attendance.

About that time her nearest neighbour was converted to God, and they
became one in Christian love ; they met together in band, and were a sreat
help to each other in the Lord. Nancy King, (the person here alluded to,)
was a pious woman, and she long since departed this life in the triumph of
faith.

In the course of a few years our sister and her husband removed from
Scorton to Stockport j this was a great trial to her, but in this as in other
matters the Lord was acknowledged, and in his name the cross was taken
up. After arriving at Stockport, she soon found a class-meeting, and kept
as mnch as possible to the means of grace. In this town she experienced
the greatest trials and the greatest blessings of her life ; she was led through
fire and water, but was at length brought into a wealthy place. She might
in the midst of her complicated trials have said with the Psalmist, *'Thou,
^hich hast shewed me great and sore troubles, shalt quicken me again, and
shalt bring me up again from the depths of the earth. Thou shalt increase
my greatness, and comfort me on every side." For awhile deep seemed to
call unto deep, and billows and waves passed over her, her religion was
closely tested. She suffered from temporal losses, ftx)m the conduct of un-
reasonable men, and from long affliction in her family. The greater

Digitized by VjOOQIC

2T0 Biography of Mm. Nanny Whitc^her of Sioekport,

part of her children were heavily afflieted, and some of them were removed
hy death, so that she had roaoh care and toil hoth hj night and hy day.

There was another circumstance which ahout this time caused her con-
siderable pain of mind, this was her husband's suspension as a Local
Preacher among the Conference Methodists, for no other charge than at-
tending a meeting held in Manchester by Dr. Warren and others. Soon
after both our sister and her husband were entirely severed from that body ;
this was a trial to her, but she knew it did not alter their relation to God ;
and she told two of the circuit preaehera so when they called at her home
to endeavour to persuade her husband to submit and retum. As if
to sharpen her feelings, which were already too aeute, one of the Con-
ference friends told her that her family afflictions and other troubles were
judgments from God because she haa left the Wesley ans. Tho person
who made this remark appeared to be sineepe, but it certainly was proof of
great ignorance and bigotry. The Lord helped our sister to endure, an4
soon gave her enemies to see that whom He loveth He ehasteqeth. Her
trials were sanotified to her, she was led to view the things of this life in
their own light, to attach greater importance to things spiritual, and to
place less reliance on feeble man. And it was not long before the outward
circumstances were reversed. Her husband, in reviewing the past, says,
" I am constrained to cry out, * what hath God wrought for us ?' If it had
not been the Lord who was on our side we should have been like thoee who
go down into the pit. He has been our rock, a covert from the storm, he
has been our helper. Halleluiah. Praise the Lord. Amen." During the
latter part of our sister's life, her path was comparatively smooth and eas;f ,
she was blest with a competency, and enjoyed many comforts. In thu
state she was thankful, but not proud. In prosperity, she was the same
humble, plain, friendly, and kind-hearted Christian that she was before. In
the character and conduct of our departed sister there were many excellen-
ces. She WGUi remarkably conscientious ; and a pattern of industry, order,
and cleanliness \ kind to the afflicted and poor, diligent in attendance on the
means of grace, and strictly punctual to the proper time ; a kind iriend to
the preachers of the Gospel ; a faithfVil and devoted wife, an affectionate and
judicious mother, and a peaceable and worthy church member. Would that
there were more like her. In her spirit and conduct there was an illustra-
tion of the power and blessedness of Christianity. She lived to bless her
household and all with whom she was connected. She did not seek to shine
on great occasions, but she glorified God in common life ; unlike many, she
improved upon acquaintance, so that those who knew her best esteemed her
most. In general she was cheerful and blithe, and sometimes rather
humorous. She was not a woman of many words, but when she did speak
it was to purpose. She did not expose a weak mind ; and make herself
disagreeable to her friends by egotism and self-laudation. Her works
praised her, but not her lips, *' speaking in deeds, but deedless in her
tongue." Though unassuming and retiring, she was a woman of sterling,
worth. She lived well, and has left an example worthy of imitation. At
home her influence was great, and her*s was the influence of kindneu.
Her removal, therefore, is felt to be a great loss; Her husband was ^atly
indebted to her for his success and comfort in life. In a letter which the
writer has received ftom him, he says, ** It is nearly forty-two years since
we were married, and surely no man ever had such an helpmeet as she has
been to me. I believe our attachment to each other was stronger as we
grew older." Her children rejoiced under her gentle sway ; even when
arrived at maturity they readily obeyed her wishes ; and now that dbe is
gone they think of her as « the best friend they had exoept the Saviour.**
Her husband and children lay very near her heart ; she had long watched
and laboured for their good, and if she desired to live longer it was for Uieir

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of 3(ri, Nanny Whitaker of Stockport. 271

aakes. On the 4th of August, 1856, she experienced a heavy trial in the
death of her youngest daughter, twenty-one years of age.* This was a
great shock to her, and her health, which had been declining for some time,
never rallied again. She spent some time on the sea co^st, but returned
home without any apparent improvement. Her bodily strength gradually
failed, but she did not seem to think that she was near her latter end. She
kept to her household duties as muoh as possible, for while anything
remained undone she seemed as though she oould not be inactive. Her
love for reading became more ardent, especially in the Bible, which had long
been her chief book. In family and private prayer she took increasing
delight. Her affection for her husband and children, and her concern for
their welfare, seemed to strengthen^ and she could not contemplate a
separation without deep feeling. Her suffering at times was extreme, but
she bore it with great patience and resignation. Eight days before her
death she had a severe attack, and suffered the most excruciating pain.
This paroxysm left her very low and confined her to bed. As she drew
near her wd her mind became remarkably .calm. To those around her she
remarked that her body was fast sinking, but that she was mercifully
saved from the fear of death, and had no doubt of her safety. A few days
before her death she seemed somewhat better, and her firienda indulged a
hope of her recovery, but another severe attack of pain out off all hope, and
she rapidhr flank into the arms of death. About two o'clock in the after-
Qooo, twelve hours after this attack, she grow worse, and her suffering; was
very great. While she was held up in oed her husband inquired if she
thought Jesus would save her. She extended her hands, as if surprised that
such ft question i^ould be asked, and with great emphasis said, " I have no
doubt, X have no doubt,*' In the midst of her sufferings she anticipated
the happinesa and glory of the saints in heaven, and exclaimed—

'* Palms in our hands we all thai} bear.
And crowns upon our head."

Her agony being very great all around her seemed to desire her release.
Her husband asked her if they should pray for her, and with great earnest-
ness she urged them to do so. Prayer was then earnestly offered in the
name of the Blessed Trinity. It was a solemn time, «nd all present were
deeply engaged. The Lord answered their prayers, her pain appeared to
be all gone^ and in about five or ten minutes she requested her son Thomas
to raise hey on the pillow, and while he was in the act of doing so her
spirit took its flight, and ahe gently fell asleep in Jesus on the latji of
December, 1950. Ber death was improved by the writer in Wellington
^»d Chapel, Stockport, on the evening of tord's-day, February 15th.
lW7i to ft crowded congregation. How many of the first members and
friends of U)o TTfdeyftn Association are gone. ** Friend after friend
fcpwta," A goodly number who were united with us in prayer and effort
ftnq \rith whom we tods sweet counsel, have finished their course. Ours
^Iso, is hastening to its completion. The goal is not feir distant; The day
of Mb i9 brief. "* The night cometh."

« Traveller, see thy gracious day

Swiftly drawing to an end.
Mend thy paoe, pursue thy way,

Ere the shades of night descend i
F^ar to lose a moment's spaoe,

Walk, advance, and hasten on ;
And when death concludes thy race>

Dying shout, * The work is dona.'"

^ * A. HMQMir ef tiOs MesUest; TOtuig ^wm appealed la the <• Wtslsfan AssomiIim
Magazine" for November^ 1866.

Digitized by

Google

272 Platform Sketches.

RECENT DEATHS.

Mr. Brooke, of Hunslet, one of our Local Preachers, a modest, good man ,
fell asleep in Jesus, in the second week of this month. Also,

Mrs. Abrah, of Leeds, who, with her husband, a retired exciseman will
be well known to all our ministers for their hospitality and interest in the
Connexion ; she died suddenly from paralysis, but she was " found
watching."

PLATFORM SKETCHES IN RELATION TO HOME AND
FOREIGN MISSIONS.

L Ireland and the Gospel.

At a recent gathering of the Baptist Irish Society, the Rev.
John AlLDIS, in allusion to the Gospel as the great lever for the
moral elevation of the Irish people, said — ,

That the condition of Ireland socially is greatly improved, I take it for
granted ; for I have not been there to see. It is testified in so many ways,
and by so many persons, that I have no doubt at all about it. And it is
testified without testimony ; a large people have ceased to gmmble, and
the political portion of the community have ceased to employ, as political
capital, the misery and the degradation which they had to a large extent
produced. Ireland has been presented to our dull Saxon minds very often
in an endless varietv of forms, and yet we are always brought, whatever
the view we take of it, to the same conclusion— turned bacK to the good
Gospel, and its kind and glorious Author, and to the spiritual power that
can alone make it effective. Why, sometimes Ireland is represented as
the gem set in the Western sea, with beautiful soil and matchless verdure,
noble rivers, placid lakes, and glorious mountains ; but for its beauty to he
complete there must be the rose of Sharon, and for its richness the pearl
of great price. And sometimes one has had the vision of Ireland, when
the ancient paganism became extinct, when the people were yet free from
the yoke of Rome, when the inward feuds and commotions were oomposed,
and, as it was said, too, all venomous reptiles were distroyed ; when it was
the focal light at once of piety and knowledge; the land at once of colleges
and of saints. If it ever were so, the Gospel made it — if it is ever to be so,
it must be by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Sometimes, again, it is
presented to us as the land of lavish hospitality, cheerful carefulness, spark-
ling wit, ready eloquence, warm hearts, and bounding mirthfiilness ; but, to
ffive elevation and sanctity to all these attributes of character, there most
be the grace of Jesus ; and, with such elements of charadter, what may not
be accomplished when the grace of Jesus is supplied ? Sometimes, a^ain
it is represented to us as impulsive, improvident, a thing of brogue and bmn-
ders, careless, distinguished by the shamrock, whiskey, riots, and broken
heads. What can calm those passions, but the living love of Jesus ? and
what turn them to a right channel, but the saving power of divine grace ?
And sometimes it is presented to us as a land where epiritual tyranny has
done its very worst, repressing free inquiry within, shutting all the light
from abroad, hurling its thunders from the altar, and hounding on the
deluded votaries to new crimes and deeper miseries ; but if the Son of God
make them free, they will be free indeed. Sometimes it is presented to as
as a land of crime ; and, consequently, of misery, indolence, mth, rags, mud-
hovels, conflagrations, assassinations, evictions, pestilence, fiunme, till bun-
Digitized by VjOOQIC

IHatform Sketches, 273

dreds of thousands are swept into a premature grave, and hundreds of
thousands more swept across the mighty ocean to distant lands ! Bat
there is one hand that can touch poor Ireland, and heal her miseries, and
stay her crimes, and but one, — it is the hand that was nailed to the tree.
And take the position we now occupy : altered Ireland — industrious, thri-
ving, diligent Ireland — almost Saxon, with broadcloth close-buttoned, I'e-
solute, well-disciplined, what will become of it without the Gospel, without
the grace of Him who gave it ]— Still, it will only be the substitution of
one evil for another. It may be infidel instead of superstitious ; its impul-
siveness may give way to new forms of character, sweetened over by some
sickly sentimentalism ; but you must go to the core of the matter, the re-
generation of the heart, and then Ireland's joy will come.

2. The Difficulties attendant on Missionart Efforts.

The Rev. C. Stovel on this subject, observed —

As to the object you have in view, my impression is, that it derives its
charm from that which gives import to the testimony of your message.
The Gospel becomes glad tidings chiefly on this account, that it tells us
that Qcoa loves us, and that by his great kindness, there is established a
medium through which the love may be really enjoyed ; that we poor, rug-
ged, guilty creatures— that we are really permitted to participate, to use,
to bring down into every-day life, and to mingle with all the cares of this
life, the blessings which flow from that love which is so proclaimed ; and
not only bring down, but bring down to our use and enjoyment in this our
mortal life, that blessing ; to walk with it down into the cold, dark grave,
rest with it there, and then, with its sweetness augmented and expanded,
with the enlarged consciousness of a disembodied spirit, alive to its festivi-
ties in a better world. To say the thing is easy ; but to waken the con-
science of man, and make him feel the thing, is quite another matter. To
put it in printed letters before his eye is easy ; to make him commit senten-
ces which expound its doctrines to memory, is easy ; and those who have
voice may find it easy to put it in sonorous, pleasing, musical sentences,.to hang
upon the ear, and make the hearer " hang upon the lip of him that pro-
nounceth it ; " and yet the conscience which answers to it may be wanting.
But when you have all the poetry of the Gospel, and all the elocution
which it supplies, and all the wondrous illustrations of its action, and all
that you can find within your resource, yet when these are all gathered up
to your use, there is a strong fact that stares vou in the face, men some-
how, or very rarely, are not easily to be convinced that God loves them.
Nay, more, it is hard to tell why, but men do not like to hear that God
loves them. Somehow or other, real, honest-hearted love is just that
which, whether it comes from God or man, walks through this earth, but is
never understood or scarcely ever, but always seems as though it had some
under purpose that must be felt out, some splendid fraud to play off upon
the poor, famishing, guilty, sons of earth. And this is the cniei difficulty.
To understand the extent of the difficulty you have to place yourselves in
a position where the practical operations of any church may be lawfully
studied. Those who pass in are many of them — we will call them— sin-
cere converts to the truth ; but how small a part of these there are who
come from the rugged coarse masses, whose condition we deplore. How
wnall a part are gathered in from those circles of polished vice which
stand amidst the educated classes of society. There are instances enough
to tell us there is hope in our employment, but they are so few that
they should make us humble, very' humble, in the study of our
services. And on the other side, walk through the range of our large
families, indoctrinated with Christian truth, attended with all kinds o^'

Digitized by VjOOQIC

I

274 Platform Skguhu.

religtoutf iMlvaiiUffei whetbor male or female, and mark h6w maa^ there are
who, near to the kiiigdom of heaveii} are found tripping on its verge, rolling
baek into corruption, or oovering with a flimsy profession the moat obvioiu
and fatal want of Christian character. The wrecks about our ohurchei, I
think, amount to an awful agreement with the number of our ▼ietories—at
least enough to tell us there is something to be studied, revised, and per-
haps amended, in our operations. If I have this as a fact before me,
there oomes at once the question, what shall mend it 1 And I eonfeN
there is one sentence in your report^ I don't think I can quote it, for my
memorv is gettingi in old age, vastly leaky-^it is in the beginning-** la
general their operations are not of a naturo to warrant the expeotaftioa of
anything brilliant and imposing." Well, that^s just precisely as jou b^
to calculate it, that's all. They say that an officer on parade, with bis fine
feathers, his sash nicely arranged, his regimentals all on, is brilliant. Well,
so it may be to some, but it is not to me. I had rather look at that fellow
coming from the crash of the war, with his sword broken, his regimentals
all slashed and spattered, and bearing on his person the marks S the des-
perate struggle with whieh he held the breach or broke through the solid
rank of an opposing foe. Then there is something brilliant in the man
who snatches a laurel from the spot where every other spirit would be
expected to faint. Now, I think that some brilliancy is found amongst our
missionaries, and lies well within the ran^ of our sooiety. From Shotley-
bridge in the north down to Land's End, it has been my privilege to nurse
my tastes very much indeed among the sympathies of the hmly^borne
struggles of our ehurches in adverSty. I don't know that I should com-
pare my knowledge with that of any other man at all ; I cmly know it ii
enough to make me admire them wondrously. I

3. Cathedral Towns and Evanobucal Effort,
Mr, Stovsl, in relation to this topic, eaid—

And this affords an opportunity of illustrating the thought I was present-
ing to you in respect to this sooiety, that there are bruliant operations
in connection with it. Take Ely for an instant. It is worth your study;
its old majestic cathedral, with little bits of its ancient plaster, just enough
to tell you what it was j and those of you who love to study architecture,
will thus catch a thin^ which may be illustrated and carried with joo.
When you go to visit old establishments of this sort, you wiU have to r^
member the tremendous spirit of death that prevails there. Ig ikm
cathedral towns, choked with wealth, you fiud solid cong)omeratio9l
of religious corruption) so tenacious, ranklike, and massive, that they Qeem
to despise the hammer of God*s word. Talk about India and Juggeraaoii
and the diflcultlesof preaching the Gospel there, I tell you it is qoT b^^^
hard to beaj: the Gospel there as in the face of the castellated vicQ and
criminality which stands rooted, built round, and barricaded by th«
worldly interests of our land. Look at the long experiment at Weli>)
which had the senius of a Mursell once, and many other able men since ;
and he is a brilliant fellow who will hear the burden of that dreadfid toili

4. Thp< Gospibl THE ONW Panaoba fo« Human Wok.
The Bev. Thomas Hands, speakipg on this subject, said—

Some spoke slightingly of the efforts of sodeties such as these, say-
ing that society itself needed reoonstruetion ; and with some, political re*
form waci everything. Well, they had now a new House of Gommeas,^
one that had beea re^ipped^aa ha heard Mr. Sidney Herbert deaoribe it--'

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Plai/orm Sketches. 275

re-dipped in an election. There had been loud cries for reform and entrench-
ment ; and he traated that performance would be as extensive as profeg*
sion, and that their new members would be as earnest and successful as
their constituents hoped they would. He hopes they would soon as far
outstrip their present selves in all that went to make the strength and
goodaeas of a nation as they already outstripped all other nations. But
le did net expect much from this quarter— they must look to something
else. Yes, said some, you must educate the people. So said he. Let
there be exhibitions, libraries, mechanics* iastitutes, amusements for the
people, if yoa will— rcvery thing to soften and humanise them as far as you
oan. But it did not seem to him that crime and immorality were confined
to the unedueated portion of the people ; it struck him they should find
quite as large a proportion of immorality and wickedness amongst men
who had a &ir share of wealth and education as amongst those who had
them net. To hear the advocates of education talk, they might suppose
that poetry and sculpture, and painting and music, were just bom, and
had never yet been tried in their effect upon the people. As if those
things which they were so onxious that the masses should see in their
Museum were not the very fragments of the art of bygone days \ the mere
remnaets of that which was not able to save Greece from ruin, nor Borne
from destruction, and whieh existed in all its perlbction face to face with
vice and corruption, at which even an atheist would blush now. If there
was nothing but cheap literature, nothing but cheap amusements, to which
they could look to stem the torrent of iniquity, nothing that would go
deeper than this, then woe, woe, indeed to this country. What do we
want, then ? We want the grand old Qospel 1 that is the only remedy. He
knew plenty of men who would sneer and cry *♦ fanaticism" at that, but he
appealed to facts. They found that education increased the wants, enlarge
ed the desires, developed the faculties of men ; it save cultivated taste,
hut it implanted no principle ; and if they increased the number of suck
men, they would have plenty of swindling Joint-Stock Banks, plenty of
Agars, Redpaths, and Boosons, who would astonish them with the magnitude
and olevemess of their crimes. Oh yes, they must give something better
than m^^ secular education, they must find a remedy that would reach
the heart ; something that would not only teach them truth but how to
nae truth ; something that would call out love and gratitude, and so warm
the heart that it should regard all around as brethren, and learn to act
truthftilly in all the relations of lif)9. Nothing but the grand old Gospel
vould do this — would even have ap abiding influence upon the masses, or
d^n eorreet the evil principle in the human soul, or restrain evil passions,
Md change the degraded nature into (me noble and pure.

5. Missions aki) CiviUJiAxiQir.

At the last Meeting of the Baptist Missionary Socie^, th© Rev,
J(mK Grabam, of Craven Chapel, said—

The topic that has been assigned me to speak to is, ^ Christian Missions
the Harbinger of Civilisation." Christlsn missions take the very line of
ftetlon that the blessed Bedeemer took ; and they fbllow his example and
his spirit. ,Fe8us came into the world, and took little children into his
^nns and blessed them. And missionary societies have gone out, and
taken children that would have been slaughtered by the hands of their
own parents, and have taken them into their bosom, and blessed them,
M»d extinffuished infenticide. Jesus stretched out his hand to helplesi^
J^dowhood and to weeping sisters, and wherever your missionary societies
have gone forth, they have extinguished widow immolation, have raised

Digitized by VjOOQIC

276 Platform Sketches.

the female character, and exalted it into its true position. So, likewise,
as' to the bodies of men. Jesus fed them. Tour missionary enterprise
developes the soil and feeds the bodies of men ; while it feeds their souls, and
every were spreads the effects of civilisation. I have sometimes thoaght I
should like a dialogue with a scientific philanthropist or a secular philaii-
thropist, on this subject of the civilisation of the heathen. I should like
to ask them what they would do that we do not do 1 As they look on the
lands of the heathen, and see the savage, naked, and squalid, and wretched,
and impure, I can conceive these scientific or secular philanthropists saying,
** We must at once organise an association.'* Perhaps, they would get it
incorporated by royal charter, and then they would call it sometMi^ like
** The Boyal Philanthropic Society for Sanitaiy Reform in Heathen Lands,
and for Cleansing and Clothing the Bodies of Men." We have been organ-
isine such societies for the last fifty years, and we conceive they have
woiHked a great effect among the heathen. I can conceive of these scientific
and secular philanthropists saying, We must have a " Royal Philanthropic
Society for Buildings among the Heathen," in which to feed, and clothe,
and convert them. I can conceive them saying. We must have a " fioyal
Philanthropic Society for the Development of the Industrial Resources of
Heathen Lands ;'* it is a pity that the soil trodden by the savages, apd
possessing so much fertility, should not be cultivated. I can eonceire
them, as they look a little deeper, saying, the hearts of the men are as
uncultivated as the soil,— we must organise a " Royal Philanthropic Society
for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge among the Heathen ;" for construct-
ing their languages, and for writing them ; for pouring translations of oor
own and the treasuries of other literature into theirs. I think I could go
on enumerating some fourteen societies that would be required by these
philanthropists for the civilisation of the heathen. But, as we look upon
them, we say, '^ We have been doing all this ; and the only difference
between your societies and ours is, that yours have no existence, and oars
have." It reminds me of what an Irishman said to an Englishman. A
number of Irish carmen were importuning him to hire a horse and car, and
were expatiating upon the merits of their respective animals, when at last,
one poor fellow shouted out, " Oh, sir, take my horse, he is a poetical,
animal." The said horse was an old creature that could not, apparently,
carry his own skin. " Well," said the gentleman, *• I will have your
horse; "i
the man,

said the i , _
I hear a cry from many of the secularists, perhaps from The Eeasmer, o
some other review, saying, **Take our chariot and drive into heathen
lands." Like the Irishman's horse, I think it would go far faster in imagi-
nation than in fact, for I see no means in the hands of philanthropists and
secularists of carrying civilisation to the heathen. To give a more digni-
fied illustration of the conduct of certain good philanthropists among us, it
reminds me of what Hue and his companion tell us, in the memoir of their
visit to Thibet, of a certain llama ; he was only the representative oi «
lai^e class, he was a sreat philanthropist in his way. A dreadful storm
arose, and he said to Mr. Hue, " I must go and send horses to poor travellers
to-day." **That is a most admirable thing," replied the Jesuit missionary;
" I hope you will have good speed in doing it." When he returned at
night, after sending horses to the travellers, he brought back a few flam-
pies of them. They were a number of slips of paper with the figures
of horaes drawn on them. He had gone to one of the neighbouring nillsj
and had thrown these papers to the winds of heaven ; and, having satisfied
his philanthropy by this, he returned home, boasting how he had served
the poor travellers, and sent horses for them. This appears to me very

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Hints to Preachers. 277

much like the philanthropy of these stay-at-home gentleman, who profess
80 much sympathy for the heathen, and yet are doing all they can to
undermine Christianity — the only thing which can benefit and civilise the
heathen. Such men would curse the Puritans, and would slander John
Bunyan. Ah ! were John Bunyan here to-day, he might come upon this
platform, and speak under the se^is of British liberty — that segis which has
been raised by the hands of sturdy, stalwart men, who were willing to give
theu* life even unto death to erect the standard of liberty for us. I say
the conduct of some of these would-be-philanthropists really appears to me
as ridiculous as the philanthropy of that poor llama who served poor tra-
vellers, as he conceived, by sending them these paper horses from the top
of a hill in a storm. These philanUiropists do raise the wind a little, and
they sometimes do send out their paper scraps at a great rate, and tell us
that missions have done all but nothing ; that they are a failure ; that we
had better give up the mission £eld, and come back. But we want to
kuow who will take it in our place. It appears to me that there is no
power at present in our community, or in any civilised lands, that would
attempt to take the Gospel, or rather civilisation—for we leave the Gospel
for the moment out of the question— except one spirit. I see there is the
spirit of commerce— commerce will go to load itself with lion-skins and
elephant tusks ; but how little does it care to sit down and busy itself
among the obscure heathen, to teach them the art of civilisation ? I
see there is the spirit of scientific enterprise ; but the men of scientific
and speculative spirit, generally like to speculate at home, and to publish
the result of their speculations to those who are better able to appreciate
them than the poor tribes of Central Africa, or of the South Seas, or India.
I repeat, it that there is no spirit but one that will attempt to take the
Gospel of Jesus Christ, or rather civilisation, to the heathen. There is a
spirit that can do it, and has done it ; the spirit that brought the Son of
God from one world to another, from one nature into another nature, from
one degree of suffering to another, until he reached the cross of a reputed
malefactor, and went down into the grave and died for a perishing world ;
the spirit that animated Europe's first missionary, when, in answer to the
cry of Europe's helplessness and wretchedness, he crossed the Bosphorus
and preached in Philippi ; preached salvation to the perishing Macedonians,
and afterwards at Corinth and Home ; the spirit that animated the
Moffats, and the Williamses, and the Livingstones, that are mentioned in
this catholic report of this catholic society ; the spirit that animated the
Knibhs, and the Judsous, and the Careys, and the others whose names are
in the Book of Life.

HINTS TO PREACHERS.

BY FRANCIS WATLAND, D.D.

It is a common remark, that preachers employ a worse delivery than
any other men who address their fellow-citizens in public. How far this
is just, it may be hard to determine. Suppose, however, a lawyer at the
bar should read his plea, or the speaker at a political meeting should read
his speech, as ministers often read their sermons, would they be at all
endured? Or, suppose, that, in an ordinary evening party, any one
should attempt to converse in the precise tone of voice which men use in
the pulpit, would not the whole company stand amazed ? When men
preach without notes, it is not commonly as bad, but here there is com-
monly some evil habit or other which very much detracts from the
effectiveness of the discourse. One speaks so rapidly that it is difficult to

Digitized by VjOOQIC

278 Hinit io Preachers,

follow bimi«-»aQoih6r drawk, — another has a ttoleifiA i&itiiflteHal toiie» to
which aU his Beotencea are subJ6Oted,--0&e is nnmoTed while uttetibg the
moat solemn truth, or speaks so low that but fetr can hear himt-— ^Kbother
IB boisterous from beginning to end, and as much moved whUe ^tte^
ing the most common, plain remark, as in delivering the most solemn
announcement. Now all this is tinfortunate. Whoever atteffipts to
improve a brother minister, should pay special attention to these defects,
and labour assiduously and faithfully to oorrect them*

The great defect of all our speaking is the want of naturalness. Wlien
we become confined to written discourses, this is almost inevitable. Me&
cannot rsnd as they speak : the eitcitement of thought in extemporary
speaking avrakens the natural tones of emotioui and it is these nataral
tjues which send the sentiment home to the heart of the hearer. Any
one must be impressed with this fact, who attends a meeting of clergy-
men during an interesting debate. There is no lack of speakers on sacli
occasions, and no one complains that he cannot speak without notes. It
is also remarkable that tney all speak well^ for they speak in earnest,
and they speak naturally. We have sometimes thought, if these rery
brethren would speak in the same manner from the pulpit, how much
more effective preachers they would become. In the pulpit We tend
to a solemn monotony, which is very grave, very proper, veryminia-
terial,-^but it is as wearisome to the vocal organs of the speaker, as
to the ear of the hearer, and its tendency is decidedly soporific. We
frequently hear a discourse delivered even with a good d^ of eafnestness,
and not a single word has been uttered with a natural tone of the voice.

The tones which lie at the foundation of all good speaking kre the tones
of earnest conversation. Here we never drawl, or fall into tone, or sing-
song, but speak out what we mean< with the patues and emphasis whleh
most readily convey the sense, tnodifyif]| every sentence by the feeling of
our own hearts, and the impression we desire to produce npon the hearer.
This is the basis of all good speaking. If a man could carry these tones
into the pulpit, rendering them somewhat niore grave, as becomes the
solemnity of the subject, speaking more slowly, as he must do, if he woold
be heard by a large assembly, abating somewhat of the suddenness of
transitions, and rising, when the occasion demands it, to an impsasioaed
and sustained earnestness, he could not fail to be a most attractive preacher.
This, then, should be the great object of a preacher, to cultivate the
natural tones of emotion, and learn to address an assembly in the tones
and the manner which he would use iu earnest conversation. If we 6an only
attain this excellence, every other will follow as a matter of course. If he
once learns to stand up before an audience, and speak to them freely,
withont embarrassment on the one hand or pompousness on the other,
simply as any man might arise and address his fellow-men on a suhject of
common importance,, he may proceed f^om this to the highest efforts of
eloquence, or at least to as high efforts as have been granted to his parti-
cular endowment. In order to impresslveness of delivery, however, it
is essential that a man aim at immediate effect. No man can be eloquent
if he be affirming truth which may be of use some ten years hsnce. He
thus excludes au use of^ the emotions, for there is nothing for emotion to
do. His discourse becomes a mere abstract disoussioUf addressed to the
intellect, and having no blearing on present action. When Demosthenes
closed one of his orations, the whole audience burst into a unanimous shont,
uttenng simultaneously the words, " Let us march against Philip." If ^^
had contended himself with discussing matters and things in general, telline
them what might be necessary to be done some time or other, they yrcm
have gone awav quietly, remarking upon the beauty of his sentences, m
the melody of his voioe, and have complinientod him upon ** tiie stfOOVM w

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Foriruii Galhpy, 279

his effort." ThMe days afterwAtds, hdrdlv any man in Ath^fia wotdd have
been abld to gire aQ intelligible aocount of his discourfle.

A word may be said reepecticg the length of sermonfl. Cecil remarks,
that a written sermon should not exceed thirty, and an unwritten sermon
forty-fire minutes. This is probably a judicious direction. As sermons are
of l^equent occurrence, and as they had better be confined to a single topic,
or to a phase of a topic, the length of time which they occupy may profit-
ably he confined within these limits* It is of small benefit to an audience
to be wearied out of patience with the length of a sermon. A preacher
ihottld always bear this in mind, and by no means continue his discourse
after his hearers have lost the power of attention. Sinners are rarely con-
verted or saints edified when tney are half asleep.

The nature of the sermon governs all the other exercises of public wor-
ship. Hie object of the preacher is to produce a sinele impression. We
all know how difficult it is to fix a religious truth in tne mind of a
man, especially when the reception of that truth imposes the necessity of
correspondinff action. We all know how easily the mind is diverted fhmi
the Babject of discourse to every passing trifle, how soon a train of associa-
tion arises and leads the mind far away from the words which are falling
upon the ear. Now, of this the preacher should be aware. He should
have every other part of the service so ordered as to co-operate with the
sermon in producing one effect ; and every source of distraction should be
carefully avoided.

If we adhere to these principles, we shall of course select such scriptures
for reading as are conducive to the main design. The psalms or hvmns
Bhonld prepare the mind for the subject that is to follow. The tunes should
express the emotion uttered in the words. For this purpose the old psalms,
enriched by innumerable solemn associations, are greatly to be ]^referred.
The more directly every thing bears upon the point to be attained, the
greater will be the effect. And, on the contrary, ©very thing is to be
avoided which would lead the minds of the audience in a different, especially
an opposite direction. Music, which expresses no sentiment, but only
exhibits the skill of the performer, especially music and music performers
that awaken associations of the opera or theatre, are sufficient to destroy the
effect of the most solemn dtscourse,--if, indeed, solemn discourses are ever
found in such company. Notices, if they must be made a part of the ser-
vice of Qod, should be put as far out of the way as possible, that they may
not interfere with the unity of design which should govern a religious
service.

PORTRAIT GALLERY.

CHAaACTEll OP JAHES 1. SKETCHED BT TWO DIFFERENT ARTISTS.
Which %B the heat likeness f — the Sistorian^s sketchy or that qf the Bishop,

Uacattlay, speaking of James' accession to the throne of Sngland,
says, it should seem that the weight of England among European nations
onght from this epoch to have greatly increased. The territory which her
pew king governed, was in extent nearly double that which Elizabeth had
inherited. His empire was also the most complete within itself, and the
most secure from attack that was to be found in the world. The Plan-
tagenets and Tudors had been repeatedly under the necessity of defending
themselves against Scotland, while they were engaged in continental war.
The long conflict in Ireland had been a severe and perpetual drain on their
mources; yet even under such disadvantages, those sovereigns had been

Digitized by VjOOQIC

280 Portrait GaUery.

highly considered thronghoot Christendom. It might, therefore, not un-
reasonably be expected, that England, Scotland, and Ireland combined,
would form a state second to none that then existed. All such expectations
were disappointed. On the day of the accession of James the first, our
country descended from the rank which she had hitherto held, and began to
be regarded as a power hardly of the second order. During many years
the great British monarchy, under four successive princes of the House of
Stuart, was scarcely a more important member of the European system
than the little kingdom of Scotland had previously been ; this, however, is
little to be regretted. Of James the first, as of John, it may be said, that
if his administration had been able and splendid, it would probably haye
been fatal to our country ; and that we owe more to his weakness and
meanness, than to the wisdom and courage of much better sovereigns. He
came to the throne at a critical moment. The time was fast approaching
when either the king must become absolute, or the Parliament mnst
control the whole executive administration. Had James been like Heniy
the fourth, like Maurice of Nassau, or like Gustavus Adolphus, a valiant,
active, and politic ruler ; had he put himself at the head of the Protestants
of Europe — had he gained great victories over Tilly and Spinola — had he
adorned Westminster with the spoils of Bavarian monasteries, and Flemish
cathedrals— had he hung Austrian and Castilian bannei*s in St. Paul's ; and
had he found himself, auer great achievements, at the head of fifty thousand
troops, brave, well disciplined, and devotedly attached to his person : the
English Parliamentwould soon have been notmng more than a name. Happily
he was not a man to play such a part. He began his administration bj
putting an end to the war which nad raged during many years between
England and Spain ; and from that time shunned hostilities with a caution
which was proof against the insults of his neighbours, and the clamours of
his subjects. Not till the last year of his life, could the influence of his
sou, his favourite, his Parliament, and his people combined, induce him to
strike one feeble blow in defence of his fieunily and of his religion. It was
well for those whom he eovemed, that he in this matter disregarded their
wishes. The e£fect of his pacific policy was, that in his time no regular
troops were needed ; and that while France, Spain, Italy, Belgium, and Ger-
many, swarmed with mercenary soldiers, the defence of our island was still
confided to the militia.

James was always boasting of his skill in what he called kingcraft, and
yet it is hardly possible, even to imagine a course more directly opposed to
all the rules of kinscraft, than that which he followed. The policy of wise
rulers has always been to disguise strong acts under popular forms. It
was thus that Augustus and Napoleon established absolute monarchies,
while the public regarded them merely as eminent citizens invested with
temporary magistracies. The policy of James was the direct reverse
of theirs. He enraged and alarmed nis Parliament by constantly telling
them that they held their privileges merely during his pleasure ; and that
they had no more business to inquire what he mieht lawfully do^ Tet he
quailed before them, abandoned minister after minister to their vengeance,
and suffered them to tease hini into acts directly opposed to his strange
inclinations. Thus, the indignation excited by nis claims, and the scorn
excited by his concessions, went on growing together. By his fondness for
worthless minions, and by the sanction which he gave to their tyranny and
rapacity, he kept discontent constantly alive. His cowardice, his child-
ishness, his pedantry, his ungainly person and manners, his provincial
accent, made him an object of derision. Even in his virtues and accom-
pUshments, there was something eminently unkingly. Throughout the
whole course of his reign, all the venerable associations by which Sie throne
had long been fenced, were gradually losing their strength. During two

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Portrait Gallery. 281

hundred jears, all the sovereigns who had ruled England, with the single
exception of the unfortunate Henry the sixth, had heen strong-minded,
hi^h-spirited, courageous, and of princely hearing ; almost all had possessed
abilities ahove the ordinary level. It was no light thing, that on the very
eve of the decisive struggle hetween our kings and their parliaments,
royalty should he exhihited |o the world, stammering, slohhering, shedding
unmanly tears, tremhling at a drawn sword, and talking in the style of a
buffoon, and of a pedagogue."

The following is a character drawn of James, hy WiUiams, Bishop of
Lincoln, then Lord-keeper, in a sermon that he preached at the royal
funeral—

" I dare presume to say you never read in your lives of two kings more
fully paralleled amongst themselves, and hetter distinguished from all
other kings hesides themselves. King Solomon is said to he unigenitus
coram matre stta, the only son of his mother, Prov. v. 8 ; so was King James:
Solomon was of a complexion white and ruddy, Cant. v. 10 ; so was King
James. Solomon was an infant king, puer, ^arvu/tM, a little child, 1 Chron.
xxil 5 ; so was King James a king at the age of thirteen months. Solomon
began his reign in the life of his predecessor, 1 Kings L 3 ; so by the force
and compulsion of that state did our late sovereign ^ing James. Solomon
was twice crowned and anointed king, 1 Chron. xxix. 22 ; so was King
James. Solomon's minority was rough through the quarrels of the former
sovereigns ; so was that of King James. Solomon was learned ahove all
princes of the east, 1 Kings iv. 20 ; so was King James above all the
princes in the universal world. Solomon was a writer in prose and verse,
1 £in^ iv. 32 ; so, in a very pure and exquisite manner, was our sweet
sovereign King James. Solomon was the greatest patron we ever read of
to the church, and churchmen ; and yet no greater let the house of Aaron
now confess than King James. Solomon was honoured with ambassadors
from all the kings of the earth, 1 Kings, iv. ; and so you know was King
James. Solomon was a main improver of his home commodities, as you
may see in his trading with Haram, 1 Kings v. 9 ; and God knows it
was the daily study of King James. Solomon was a great maintainer of
shipping and navigation, 1 Kings x. 14 ; a most proper attribute to King
James. Solomon beautified very much his capital city with buildings, and
outer works, 1 Kings ix. 15 ; so did King James. Every man lived in
peace under his vine, and his fig-tree, in the days of Solomon, 1 Kings iv»
25 J and so they did in the blessed days of King James. And yet towards
his end, King Solomon had secret enemies, Eazan, Hadad, and Jeroboam,
and prepared for a war upon his going to his grave, as you may see in the
verse before my text ; so had, and so did King James. Lastly, before any
nostile act we read of in the history, King Solomon died in peace when he
bad lived about sixty years, as Lyra and Tbstatus are of opinion ; and so
you know did King James.

'^ And as for his words and eloquence, you know it well enough ; it was
nre and excellent in the highest degree. Solomon speaking of his own
Mcnlty in this kind, divides it into two several heads — a ready invention,
^d an easy discharge and expression of the same.

God hath granted me to speak as I would, and to conceive as is meet,
for the things spoken of, Wisd. vii. 15 ; and this was eminent in our late
sovereign, his iTi-ention was as quick as his first thoughts, and his words
asr^y as his invention. Ood hath given him to conceive: the Greek
word in that place is, that is to make an enthymem, or a short syllogism^
and that was his manner. He would first wind up the whole substance of
Jifl discourse into one solid and massive conception, and then spread it and
duate it to what compass he pleased (as Tacitus said of Augustus)— in a
nowmg and prmcely kind of elocution. Those speeches of his in the Par-

u

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

289 Review and Vritieim,

liameat, Star Chamber, CouQoil Table, and other publick audienc^B- of the
State, (of which, as of Tally's Orations, ea semper optima aua moxfrno— the
longest still was held the best,) do' prove him to be tne most powerfal
speaker that ever swayed the sceptre of this Idngdom. In his style you may
oWrre the Ecolesiastes, in his figures the Canticles, in his sentenoee thje
Proverbs, and in his whole discourse, Eeliguum verbonun, Salomonis, all
the rest that was admirable in the eloquence of Solomon,

" How powerful did he charge the prince with the care of justice, the two
pillars (as he termed them) of his future throne ! how did he recommend
unto his love, the nobility, the ders;^, and the commonalty in the general.
How did he thrust, as it were, into his inward bosom, his bishops, his judges,
his near servants, and that disciple of his whom he so loved in particular,
and concluded with that heavenly advice to his son, concerning that great
act of his future marriage, to marry like himself, and marry where he
would ; but if he did marry the daughter of that king, he should marrj
her person, but he should not marry her religion."

REVIEW AND CRITICISM.

The Ottoman Empire. London : Religious Teact Society, 56,
Paternoster-row.

This is an opportune publication. Proceeding from the press, al-
most immediately upon the close of the war in the East, it will be
likely to secure a considerable share of public attention, to the Sul-
tan's territory and to the people of Turkey, all of which matters are
treated in the compass of a nioderate sized volume.

The author treats his interesting subject under the following heads.
The Turks, Seljukian and Ottoman — ^Rise of the Ottoman Empire-
Establishment of the Empire — Capture of Constantinople — General
effect of the Ottoman Conquests — Greatest Power and Extent of the
Empire — Reverses of. the Empire — Capital of the Empire— -Ter-
ritorial and General View of the Empire— Population, Races, and Re-
ligions of the Empire. In addition to the author's popular treatment
of the matters above named, he gives his readers a table of all the
ijmirs and Sultans of the Empire from the days of Ottoman I. down
to those of Abdul Me(\jid, as well as a Map, on a rather large scale,
showing the boundaries of the Ottoman Empire at the time of its
widest extent in the Seventeenth Century. Our readers will not ftil
to realise both interest and profit in the perusal of this excellent
work.

Historical Tales for Young Protestants. London: RsLioioos
Tract Societt, 56, Paternoster-row.

Another of those charming volumes which are constantly proceed-
iag from the press of the Religious Tract Society. The work before
us sketches with graphic power the sufR^rings which PtotestantB of
various countries have cheerfiilly borne on account of their Faith. Ij
is a work designed for the Protestant Youth of the country, and will
be read with an interest almost romantic.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Review and CrUieUm. >. .88.

The Annotated Pwragraph BibU. Part V. (the Four Gospels).
London : Religious Tsact Society, 66y Fatemoster^row.

This, we think, is the. cheapest and perhaps the best popular Com-
mentftiy in this age of cheap publications* Instead of the arbitrary
division of the Sacred text into Chapters, as in the Authorised Ver-
sion, the Annotated Bible is divided into Paragraphs, according to the
change of subject. So far as ^e have observed, the paragraphs are
judiciously arranged. The Part before us contains the Four Gospels,
with Annotations. It is illustrated by numerous parallel passages,
and by a beautiful Map of Palestine as it was in the time of our Lo^d.
The size is imperial octavo : the paper fine, the typography excellent,
and the price 3*. The whole Annotated Paragraph Bible will be
completed in six such Parts, illustrated with Maps, &c. This publi-
cation has our unqualified approval. We heartily recommend it to the
notice of our numerous readers.

Exhibition Flowers. By Shirley Hibberd. London: Gboobibridob
and Son, 5, Paternoster-row.

A work on the History, Properties, Cultivation, Propagation, and
Management of Flowers in all seasons. The author has chosen an
interesting subject, and appears to treat it in a masterly manner.

Early Grace with Early Glory. By the Bey. W. P. Lyon, B.A
London : Ward and Co., 27, Paternoster-row.

This is the title of a brief Memorial which Paternal affection has
moved the author to publish of a deceased Daughter. It is a charming
little work.

Practical Hints on the Management of the Sick Room. London
John Snow, 35, Paternoster-row. •

A work by Dr. Bakewell, intended to supply a want which it is
believed has been long felt, of " a short, cheap, and simple book on the
management of the Sick Room.'^ The author, within a small compass^
manages to throw out to his reader a great number of highly valuable
snggestions on the subject under consideration. There ought to be
at least one such book in every family.

Voluntary and Religious Education. Edited by W. J. Unwin, M. A.
London : Wabd and Co.» 27, Paternoster-row.

The pamphlet before us, consists of Minutes of the Proceedings of a
Conference held at the Independent College, Homerton, in December
last, Samuel Morley, Esq., in the chair, with a Preliminary Statement
by the Rev. John Kelly, of Liverpool ; and Strictures on Sir John
Packington's Borough Educational Bill, by E. Baines, Esq., of Leeds.
We have only space to observe that this is an able production in sup-
port of Voluntary and Religious Education. Through the kindness
of Mr. TJnwin we have been supplied, gratis^ with a copy for each of
<m Itinerant Preachers and Missionaries^

u 2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

284 Tke Fruit of Magged Schools.

PUBUCATIOHS BBCBITSI>*

1. « Man in Earnest" By Robert Ferguson, DD, LLJ).

2. " Who is Right, and Who is Wrong?"

3. " Juvenile Crime, its Causes and Remedies." By John Honley*

4. « Mr. Spurgeon*s Critics Criticised.** By a Churchman^

6, " An Answer to the Enquiry,— Why do you advocate a Maine law?"

THE FRUIT OP RAGGED SCHOOLS-

It may be interesting to those engaged in ra^ed schools, to hear of the
happy death of a young woman "^om I visited a short time since, who
had received her firat *'luiowle(k;e of truth*' through their instrumentality.

When I saw her, a week before her death, she was so weak as to be
able to speak but little, and was suffering very much. She was a pooft
ignorant, voung creature, in the lowest and most degraded class of life;
and married contrary to her mother's wish, and soon after the birth of her
first child fell into a consumption, of which she died in her nineteenth
year. Her sister, who was employed bv me occasionally, told me of the
state in which she lay, said her mind had been very uuhappy, and that she
had asked her to bring some person to read for her. When I visited her,
she lay, without almost any sign of life (except that distressing effort to
breathe so peculiar to her complaint^, on what could hardly be called a
bed, without any covering except a thin patchwork counterpane and her
own clothes* A basket, with an old gown folded on it, helped to support
her in an upright position. On a few rags imder her table lay her poor
babe ; her mouier, an ignorant but kind-nearted old woman, nursed and
tended her, and took care of the child.

I approached her bed, and asked how she felt. She replied, " Yerr
weak indeed." I asked her if her mind was happy. She said, ^ Yes."
'^ But why is it happ^ Y' I inquired. Her reply was beautifully simple.
** Because I am forgtven.** ^ But," I said, " how do you know you are
forgiven T ^ Because," said she, " 1 have prayed for it." As she had not
strength to speak more, I did not remain long at that time ; but I went to
see the poor creature almost daily until her death, and her faith never
seemed for a moment shaken.

She could seldom speak more than a few words at a time ; but one day
that her strength seemed almost to give hopes of her recovery, I took
the opportunity of asking her how she had been led to see her sinful state.
She told me that for some time she had gone with other idle d.rls to the
ragged school in High Street, Deptford (as she said), to play and do mUehief,
Wiiat she learned made little impression at that time; she grew up a bad,
wicked girl, told lies, and disobeyed her mother, and mixed with the worst
company. But when she lay on a sick-bed, what she had been taught
came back to her mind, causing her to become miserable on account of her
mns, knowing how soon she must appear before God ; and she begged
of her sister to bring some person to read for her. Meantime she waa
enabled herself to ask God to nave meray on her for the sake of Jesus, and
she felt assured she was a pardoned sinner. She then repeated to me
several verses of Scripture, and some simple hymns she had learned at the
ragged school ; and she told me, whilst she lay apparently insensible, her
mind was dwelling on them.

One day I asked her if BhefeU she was a sinner, as I feared her taking
it only in a general sense ; but her answer convinced me of the contraxy.
" Oh, yes," she said, ^ and a wicked sumer too." I then said to her, **lfjoa

Digitized by VjOOQIC

lie Fruit of Bagged Schools. 285

were permitted to ohoose life or death, which would you prefer V* She
replied, ** I should rather die." " And why ?" I asked. " JBecawe I know
IshaUhe happy ^^

She delighted in hearing the Bible read to her ; and when in too much
paiato listen, a Terse or two repeated slowly, or a little hymn, would
comfort her.. She seemed particularly struck with that beautiful one,
<< There is a fountain filled with blood," &c.

Ejiowing how ignorantly she had been brought up, and the great distress
she wa^ in, I felt anxious to know what her iaeas would be of the
happiness she anticipated in heaven, expecting her answer to be, ** Ease
from pain and suffering ;" but how often her short but touching answer
comes to my mind, when I think of that blessed state ! — it was, ^ Walking
along the paths of righteousness **

Her body was racked with pain and suffering, and she was devoid of all
external comfort ; but a sinful heart was a greater burden, and it was the
unsullied holiness of that happy land which filled her soul with such
joyful anticipations. .

A few hours before her death I visited her again. Her mind wasr quite
gone ; her voice was stronger than I had yet heard it, but her only cry was
to take her out of her bed, or to the workhouse. Her mother had occasion
to go to the doctor's ; and I said I would stay with the poor sufferer while
she was away, and mind the babe if it awoke. The poor young mother
had fallen into a stupor, and I took out my Bible ^which she was no longer
able to listen to), expecting never again to hear ner voice in reason ; but
she turned round and asked for her mother, and said, *' 1 am going , I can
going! I want t9 see my mother!** **No, my dear," I said, "you are not
going just yet ; your mother will be here soon." " Oh, yes," she said, " I
feel I am, and I should like to see her first." I said, ^ Wel^ dear, do you
feel you are going to God 1" *' Yes," she replied ; " I am quite happy,"
"Then, while you still have life, will you lift up your heart and say, " O
lord, pardon a poor sinner, for Jesus* sake !' and try to keep your mind
£xed on him in your last moments !" She turned her dying eyes to heaven,
and sud, in a strong and fervent voice, '^O Gk>d, forgive a poor sinner for
Jesus' sake !" I a^ed her if she knew me. "Yes," she replied; ''you
are the lady who reads for me, and mav God bless you." She then seemed
msome trouble about an untruth she had told previous to her illness, and
begged we would tell the person she had attempted to injure how sorry
she felt. I was obliged to leave reluctantly, and I parted from her, to
meet no more on earth ; she died in a few hours afterwards. The person
who lodged in the adjoining room told me she fell into a stupor again
after I had left, but, after sOme time, turned round, and lifting up her
Wds (as I had seen her do), said, << I am coming^ I am coming ! my
l^rd has called me. Oh, what a beautiful place !" She then ae^ed for
her babe to be put near her ; called repeatedly for her husband, and, a few
i^utes after he entered the room, blessed him, and breathed her last
without a struggle*

This is a simple and true account of a ;^oung woman who went to the
^a^ed-school to laugh and do mischief with other idle girls ; but had it
not been for the instruction she there received, she would probably scarcely
have known that she had an immortal soul, such was the state of degrada-
tion and ignorance in which she had been brought up ; and I do not think
Bne was ever inside a place of worship. Her mother had been a Boman
Catholic, but, as she said herself, ^' for many years she did not follow any
religion."

Our work may be often discouraging ; but " he that goeth forth and
weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing,
bnnging his sheaves with him."— 2^new% Visitor.

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

.286

AMALGAMATION, AN ACCOMPLISHED PACT.

Our readers will be clad to learn that Union has at length taken
place betwern the Weslejan Reformers and the Methodist Association.
The following Report will be found to detail the proceedings in con-
jiezion with the Union :^

The two Committees have to Report that thej met at Exeter Hall,
on Wednesday and Thursday, the 13th and 14th of May, IS57 ; at
which were present on the part of the Weslejan Methodist Associa-
tioD, the Revs. M. Baxter, T. A. Bajlej, W. Dawaon, R
Eckett, A. Gilbert, J. Molineaz, J. Peters, W. Patterson, W. Reed,
6. Smith ; Messrs. C. Cheetham, E. Darke, W. Dixon, W. Howe,
J. Petrie, W. Binder, J. Thompson, and B. Thorp ; and on the part
of the Weslejan Reformer, the Revs. Everett, Griffith, Mann ; Messrs.
Benson, Child, Chipchase, J. Cuthbertson, A. Goold, Hanson,
Harrison, H. Kay, Lawes, Massingham, Moxon, Nichols, Schofield,
Unwin, and Whitelej.

The United Committees were <m the first daj presided over by the
Bev. M. Baxter, President of the Association, and on the second,
lyy the Bev. J. Everett

The list of Preachers, who had been examined by the special Com-
mittee of the Reformers, and certified as provided by the Besolation
of the last Delegate Meeting, was read and considered. It appeared
that there were 32 Reform Preachers proposed to be received into
the Itinerant ministry, either as in full connexion, or as {vobationen,
while there were oi^y 19 Circuits that had then consented to take
Itinerant Connexional Ministers, and some of them had said tbej
could not at present fully comply with all the Connexional arrange-
ments regarding Preachers'-houses, &c.

It was also stated that several of the Preachers proposed for
bdndssion into the Itinerancy, had engaged for the present to remain
in Circuits which had not as yet consented to receive Itinerant
Ministers appointed by the Annual Assembly. Various suggestions
were made and a revised list was supplied to tiie Association Brethren,
who after maturely considering the same

1. Resolved, That this Committee consents to adopt the amended list of
Preachers prepared by the Reform Committee, with the status indi-
cated in sudi List ; it being understood that there will be no con-
nexional allowance to any at the Preachers on the said List for chil-
dren born before the admission of such Preaehers into foil Connexion,
except the representatives of the United Churches shall in any case
otherwise determine.

N.B, — The latter part of the preceding Resolution accords with what has
ever been the practice of the Wesleyan Methodist Association.

2. Resolved, That as the Reform Committee are of opinion, that in
addition to the Brethren who are to be placed on the list of Preachen
to be now recognised as Itinerant Ministers of the United Churches,
there are twelve other Brethren who are eligible to be admitted
into the Itinerancy who at present are engaged to supply Circuits that
have not as yet consented to receive Itinerant Ministers, and whose
services as such are not at present available, this Committee is willing
that the said Brethren shall be recoffnised in the Minutes as Ministers of
Churches, belongiog to the Connenon ; and that the said Ipthren be

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Report of the Special Committee. 287,

MimiMed into the Itinerancy of the United Churches, as additional
Beform Circuits consent to receive Itinerant Ministers to be appointed
by the Annual Assembly, and in accordance with the Connexional
regalations as to the Itinerancy.

The Reform Committee agreed to the preceding Resolutions.
The following is the accepted List of preachers —

Itinerant Preachers in Full-Connexion.
Everett, James, Supernumerary
Kowland, Thomas
Hirst, John

Garside, Joseph
Barlow, Thomas
Browning, Edward

Hirst, Henry
Mann, John
Myers, John
Eawson, George Robert
Sarvent, George

Itinerant Preachers on Probation, with the periods for which they
are to be regarded as having been on Probation-

Bell, Robert 3 years

Davis, Stephen 3 „
Smith, William 2 „
Bainbridge, James 3 i,

Alien, Gteorge 1 year

Beayan, Samuel 2 years

Bentley, Christopher 2 ,,

Pennell, D. W. 2 „

Hayward, Henry 2 „

Preachers who are in Circuits, not agreeing at present to tale Con-
nexional Preachers, and whose services are not at present available
for the Itinerancy—

To be in Full-ConneJdcm, when recognised as belonging to the
Itinerancy —
Griffith. William
Bashell, Robert
Boydon, William
Kirsop, Joseph

Laxton, Thomas Monld
Macfarlane, Samuel
Storey, Parker
Woods, William

To be regarded as Itinerant Preachers on Probation (who have
been on Probation for the time affixed to each name,) when recognised
as belonging to the Itinerancy—

Haywood, 6eorge 2 years I Kennard, James 3 years

Hopkins, John 3 „ | Maud Robert Daniel 2 ^

It was deemed desirable, that some arrangement should be entered
into with regard to the right of the Representatives of Circuits
taking Gonnexional Preachers to speak and vote on all questions rela*
^ing to the Ministry, and it was therefore, by both the Committees

3. Resolved that at the next Annual Assembly the Representatives of all
the Circuits, of the United Churches, which have consented to take
Connexional Ministers, to be appointed by the Annual Assembly, be then
entitled to speak and vote on all questions relating to the Ministry, but :
that at succeeding Annual Assemblies only the representatives of Circuits ,
consenting to receive Connexional Ministers, subject to the then existing
Connexional Regulations, shall be entitled to take part in discussing or
deeiding any such questions ; according to the twelfth Article of the
Bifiig of Union.

With regard to the two Book-Room establishments, it was mutually

4. Resolved, That it is desirable, that, as soon as practicable after the
pToposed amalgamation has been effected, there should be but one
Book-room for the United Churches ; and it is mutually agreed, that,
uitil measures are adopted by which this shall bjS. effiocted, tne arrange-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

28t' Report of tfie Special Committee.

menf s wliioh shall be made by the present Connezional Committee ot

the Aasociation for the management of the Book-room, now belonging

to the Wesleyan Methodist .AjBsociation, and for the appropriation of its

profits^ shall be oontinned.

The Wesleyan Methodist Association haying several fands, which

were raised for special Connexional objects, it was considered equitable

that the present Connexional Committee should be empowered to

deal with such funds as they might determine, and it was therefore,

by both the Committees

5. Resolved, That the capital of the Wesleyan Methodist Association
Sunday Schools' Fund, the Local Preachers' Fund, the Preachers' Bene-
ficent Fund, and of the Connexional Chapel Fund, raised previous to
effecting the proposed amalgamation, shall be placed under such
management and control as the present Connexional Committee of the
Association may determine.

The Committees having made the preceding arrangements, were of
opinion that the time had arrived when they should pronounce the
Union eiOfeeted, and accordingly it was unitedly and unanimously

6. Eesolved, That subject to the Basis of Union, and the other arrange-
ments that have been mutually adopted by the Special Committee of
the Methodist Beformers, and of the Wesleyan Methodist Association,
the said Committees mutually declare, that the proposed Amalgamation
of the Churches represented by the said Conunitteeshas now been efiBected.

7. Resolved, That the aforesaid Special Committees shall severally appoint
four of their Members to constitute unitedly a Sub-Committee, to deter-
mine how the Union which has been effected shall be celebrated, and
also to settle the number of the Bepresentatives that may be sent by
the Beform (Xrcuits or Churches, to attend the first Annual Meeting of
the Bepresentatives of the United Churches, according to the 18th Sec
of the Basis of Union.

The Sub-Committee referred to in the last Resolution have been
elected, and have met, and arrangements are being made to celebrate
the Union ; but the Committee deem it advisable at once to issue this
Report for the information of the Churches.

It is understood, that as arrangements have already been made for
the next year, between Reform Circuits (intending after that time to
takQ Connexional Itinerant Preachers) and Reform Preachers who are
on the list of Reform Preachers nominated for the Itinerancy, such
arrangements should not be interfered with by the Annual Assembly)
except with the consent of both the Preachers and Circuits ; that for
the next year such of the Reform Circuits as have made their own
arrangements as aforesaid, shall not be required to contribute for the
next year to the Preachers' Children's Fund, but that any Circuit
applying to the Annual Assembly for an Itinerant Preacher wiXL be
expected to contribute its fair proportion, according to the number of
its members, to the said Fund.

Signed on behalf of the Joint Committees,

ROBT. ECKETT.
T.H. RICHARD.
Secretaries to the United Committees,

8, Exeter Hally London^
May 22, 1857.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

289
THE CASKET.

WAITIKa FOR BEAYVir.— BT THS BSV. BIU GUTHRIIS.

Home to be home is the wish of the seaman on stormy seas and lonelv
watch. « Home is the wish of the soldier, and tender visions mingle with
the trouhLed dreams of trench and tented field. Where the palm-tree
wares its graceful plmnes and birds of jewelled Instre flash and flicker
among gorgeons flowers, the exile sits staring upon vacancy ; a far away
home lies on his heart ; and borne on the wings of fancy over intervening
seas and lands, he has swept away home, and hears the lark singinff above
his father's fields, and sees his £ur-haired boy-brother, with li^t foot
and childhood's glee, chadng the butterfly by his native stream. And in
his hest hours, home, his own sinless home, — a home with his Father
above that starry sky, — will be the wish of every Christian man. He looks
within him ; the world is full of suffering ; he is distressed by its sorrows,
and vexed with its sins. He looks within him ; he finds much in his
own corruptions to grieve for. Txl the language of a heart repelled,
grieved, vexed, he often turn his eye npwaids, saying, ^ I woidd not live
here always.** No. Not for all the gold of the world's mines, — ^not for all
the pearls of her seas,— not for all the pleasures of her flashing, frothy cup,
—not for all the crowns of her kingdoms, — would I live here luways.
like a bird about to migrate to those sunny lands where no winter sheds
her snows, or strips the grove, or binds the dancing streams, he will often
in spirit be preparing his wing for the hour of his flight to glory.

Tda holier the chad of God becomes, the more he pants after the per-
fect image and blissful presence of Jesus ; and dark although the passa^
and deep although the river may be, the more holy he is, the more ready
WO] he be to say;, *'Itia better to depart, and be with Jesus." '< Tell me,'*
said a saintly minister of the Ghurdi of England, whose star but lately set
on this world, to rise and shine in better skies — '^ tell me," he said to his
physician, '* the true state of my case ; conceal nothiug ," adding, his eye
lindled, and his face beamed at the very thought, ** if you have to tell me
that my dissolution is near, you could not tell me better or happier news."
Paul said, '* I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart and
to be with Christ, which is far better ; nevertheless, to abide in the flesh is
more needful for you." He judged it best for himself to ^o, but for others
he judged it best to stay. And there are few nobler sights than to see
that man, with his foot on the doorstep of heaven, return to throw himself
into the very thick of battle, and be spent in his Master's work. The crown
of martyrdom often within his reach, he drew back a hand that was eager
to grasp it. He took as much of life as the coward-guilt that is afraid to
die. He was not impatient of the hardships, wounds, and watchings of the
warfare, so long as he could serve the cause of Jesus. It was sin, not
Buffering, that he felt intolerable, and which wrung from him the bitter
<^i '^ 0 wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from this bodv of
death 1" His Saviour's spirit^ he chose rather that Christ shoula be
glorified through his labours on earth than that he himself cdiould be
glorified with (%rist in heaven. And so long as he had tonffue to speak
tor Jesos, and an arm to hold high above the battle's tumidt uie banner of
the faith, he was willing to work on, not imi>atient for death and his
^ischam. His was a higher and more heroic Tnsh than to get to heaven.
He wi^ed to make a heaven of earth ; and persuaded that nothing could
senarate him from the love of God, or, finaUy, from heaven, believing that
aU which God had said of him he would do for him, and knowing that
though the vision tarried, it would comoi he possoBsed his soul in patience
and peace, waiting for the Lord.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

290 The. Casket.

It is a cowardly thing for a soldier to seek his discharge so long as bis
country's banner flies in the battle-field. The Christian should he aheio,
not a coward ; and with such faith as all may get, and many have enjoyed,
God's people, while they look to heaven, will with patience wait for it.
Oil hitf way home the saint will prore himself a good Samaritan, reidr to
stop even on a heavenward joamey, that he may raise the fallen, bina tip
the wounds of humanity, and do all the work that meets him upon the
road. Nor shall this go unrewarded. '*The sleep of a labouring mania
»weet." And| oh, heaven shall be sweetest to him who has wrought
through the longest day, and toiled the hardest at his work. Now and
then he will be fifting up a weary head to see how the hours Wear by.-^'if
there be yet any sign of his Maater coming. But upborne under the neat
and burden of the day by the oonfldence that '' He who shall come will
oome, and will not tarry,'' he works patiently, and he sufiers patiently.
The moat importunate and urgent prayer he ventures on^ is tiiat of one
who, trembling lest patience should fail and religion suffer dishonour, cried,
when her pains deepened into agony, and the agony became ezcmdatiiiiK,
« Come, oh, come, Lord Jesus ! come quickly.''

HE SHALL APPEAR IK HIS OWN QLORT, IN THE OLORY 07 HIS VATHXB,
AND IN THE OLORT OF HIS HOLY ANGELS.

Full in the midst, reiled in transcendant rays,
Jehovah all his glorious beams displays,
In Christ revealed, the Father's power divine^
And all his manifested splendours shine.
High on his throne in majesty adored,
Aloft he wields the sceptre and the sword.
Seven starry crowns his legal brow adorn,
Like mountain summits gilded by the mom $
While o'er his head a radiant rainbow glows.
And o'er the scene its varied lustre throws.

In radiant groups, arrayed in light they fly,
Like beauteous clouds that gild the western sky,
AVhile streams of dazzling splendour round them play, .
Bright as the sun, yet far less bright than they.
• •••••

The signal given, Heaven's pearly gates unfold
Kesplendent with celestial wealth of gold ;
While tenfold radiance from those portals streams
Bright as from clouds the bursting sunlight beams.

The trumpet sounds. Angelic chiefs are seen
Speeding their flight celestial ranks between.
Their squadrons forming, marshalling th^r train,
And spreading, in vast phalanx, o'er the plain,
Till that long column, broken up and changed.
Appears in mighty circle re-arranged :
Christ in the centi'e, throned ; while round Him stand
Of cherubim a bright, majestic band ,*
Then seraph choirs, with minstrelsy divine,
And highest archangelic legions shine ;
Princedoms, dominions, thrones, and heavenly poweHi,
And angel-hosts, fresh from celestial bowers ;
With tbose who-^in created worlds abode-^
Planets and stars which with their presence glow'd ;

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket 291

Unnumbered hoeta of every rank and race,

All bright and fair and decked in heayenly grace ;

In circles vast extending far and wide,

Yet spreading still like ocean's boundless tide ;

While bordering the whole, a tuneful band

Of harpers from all worlds united stand ;

And chernbe tall sustaining banners bright

The mighty circle fringe with dazzling light :

Before the throne their crowns archangels fling,

And, prostrate, Heaven's high hosts adore their king.

Seraphic choirs take up the grateful song,

And all assembled wonds the strains prolong.

Till from the centre to the utmost bnound

Of that vast circle, notes of worship sound.

THE WICKED, TERROR- STRICKEN IN THE TERRIBLE DAT OF THE LORD.

Pale Horror walks the earth and lifts on high
His blazing torch, which glimmers through the sky,
And shows his features wane, his hair erect,
And wildly rolling eye-balls which reflect
His spirit*s inwam gloom and dark dismay,
As he from house to house pursues his way.

AWAKE, TS DEAD, AND COICB TO JUDGMENT!

Those strains that hoeit now stop with one aceord,
When, lo J the great Archangel of the Lord,
Arrayed in fire, in living fflory drest,
Magnificent, in front of aU the rest.
Advancing nearer, and yet nearer still,
Sounds forth the trumpet, long, and loud, and shrill,
Besonnds the blast, and while the nations quake.
He cries with mighty voice, '< Awake ! awake !
Arise and come to iudgment all ye dead.*'
That awful voice these trumpet echoes spread
From east to west, while from the earth and skies
Loud pealing echoes ring, ** Awake \ arise ! '*

A BEAUTIFUL ALLEaORT.

A traveller, who spent some time in Turkey, relates a beautiful parable,
^hich was told him by a dervish, and which seemed even more beautiful
than Sterne's celebrated figure of the Accusing Spirit and Beoording
Angel. ** Every man,'* says the dervish, " has two angels— one on his right
shoulder and another on the left. When he does anything good, the angel
on his right shoulder writes it down, and seals it, because what is done is
done for ever. When he has done evil, the angel on his left shoulder
writes it down. He waits till midnight. If before that time he bows
down bis head, and exclaims, ' Gracious Allah ! I have sinned, forgive me !
the angel rubs it out ; and if not, at midnight he seals it, and the angel
upon the right shoulder weeps."

PRAT HUCHy FRAY WELL.

Felix Neff onoe made the following comparison : -^ ** When a pump is
frequently used, but littUe pains are necessary to have water ; the water
pours out at the first stroke, because it is hiffh. Bat if the pump has not
oeen used for a time, the water gets low ; and when you want it yon must
pump a long while, and the water comes only aJfter great efforts. It is so
with prayer ; if we are histant in prayer, erei7 little circamstance awakens

Digitized by VjOOQIC

292 ReUgum InielUgence.

the disponiion to pray, and demres and works are always ready. Bat if
we neglect prayer, it is difficult for ns to pray, for the water in the well
gets low."

rras HIND Aim the dare lantxrn.
What surrounds us, reflects more or less that which is within us. The
mind is like one of those dark lanterns which, in spit^ of ererything, throw
some light around. If our tastes did not reyeal our characteri they would
be no longer tastes but instincts.

LITTLE THINGS*

Drops make the boundless ocean, and particles lift the ererlasting hilk
little Jdndnesses and attentions are the sugar of life.

THE LIFE OF A HAN.

As the rose-tree is composed of the sweetest flowers and the sharpest

thorns— as the heayens are sometimes orercast and sometimes fair, aW ]

nately tempestuous and serene— so is the life of man intermingled with I

hopes and fears, with joys and sorrows, with pleasures and pains. '

RELIGIOUS INTELLIGENCE.

ST. MARTIN'S, OVERTON CIRCUIT,

We are making some little progress here. The Chapel in which we have
worshipped for many years, having gone very much out of repair, it became
a source of anxiety to the friends ; it was a rented building, and being so,
it was deemed unwise for us to undertake the repairs ; and, in addition to that,
it has been for some time upon sale. A meeting of members was convened, to
consider what steps ought to be taken, for in a snort time we might be without
a place to worship in. The question of purchasing the premises was first
discussed, but one difiiculty after another arose* and it was at length resolved
to erect a new one. if land suitable for the purpose could be obtamed* Land
beinff procured, the building was at once commenced, and now we are
regularly worshipping within its walls. The opening services were commenced
on Lora's day, April 12th, by three sermons being preached : those in the
morning and evening, by the Rev. H. Breeden of Rochdale, and that in the
afternoon, by the Rev. J. D. Thomas, Independent minister of £llesmere. It
was a Sabbath that will be remembered by a goodly number for some time to
€ome« An influence pervaded the meetings, which we sincerely wish would
always attend the preaching of the Word, both here and elsewhere, whenever
it is preached.

On the following day we had a public tea-meeting, and notwithstanding the
very unfavourable state of the weather, and the distance the people had to
come, there were nearly 300 persons sat down to tea.

As is customary on such occasions, after tea we held a public meeting, the
Rev. S. Massie, Minister of the Circuit, took the chair, and plain, practical,
and soul-stirring addresses were delivered by the Revs. H. Breeden, T. Guttery
(Primitive), and Messrs. D. C. Daries (Independent), and J. Moyan (Wesleyan
Reformer).

The services were resumed on the following Sabbath, when two sermons
were preached by the Rev. D. Crumpton, Baptist minister ef Oswestry. The
congregations at all the openinpr services were excellent, and at some of them
many had to return without being able to gain admission, and we are happy
to say that ever since they have contiuuecTvery good, nearly all the seats in
the (;hapel are taken* and we are hoping to see at no distant period, the arm
of Jehovah revealed among us. The entire buildinx consists of a Chapel
twelve yards by eight, with a School-room undemeaw, of nearly the same

Digitized by VjOOQIC

ReUgiom JnielUgence^ 29S

dimensioDfl, and alsa a neatCottag^ei whicli is adapted for the service of a
Bcboolmaster. It is a neat and comfortable building, and those fHends of
oun from a distance are very much pleased with it. We cannot as vet exacdv
state the entire cost, but as nearly as we can ascertain, it will be 30o£»
exclusive of all the drawing of the materials, which has nearly all been
eiven by the fanners in the neighbourhood. It is placed upon trust, and we
nope in a short time to have it in veiy comfortable circumstances. The
prayer of our heart is ** Establish thou the work of our hands, yea, the work of
our hands establish thou it.

C. O.
CARLISLE CIRCUIT.

You will be pleased to learn that we are alive to the interests of Christ't
kingdom.

Endeavouring to maintain those interests, we have had our Circuit Anniver**
sary. On Easter Sunday, two sermons were preached in the Tabernacle*
Lowtber-street, by the Rev. Wm. Jones, our esteemed minister, and on the
following day the annual tea meeting was held. The trays were gratuitously
fumishea, and the proceeds, together with the collections on the Sabbath, were
given to aid the Circuit Fun£ The Rev. Wm. Jones presided at the tea
meeting, the attendance at which was very encouraging, and addresses were
delivered by the Revs. R. Shields (Primitive Methodist), W. A. Wrigley
(Independent), and Witson (Evangelical Union), and Professor Paulding, of
Rotherham College. The Rev* Professor is a pleasing example of earnest
Christianity, sanctified intelligence, and genuine Catholicism. He was attend-
lug a Tea-meeting of the Congregationalists here on Good Friday, when be-^
coming aware that ours would take place on the Monday after, he volunteered
to serve us. And such was the character of his speech, that we were led to
thank God that such a man is found in the position which he occupies.

I will only further trespass on your space by saying, that we are about
largely to alter our' Chapel in Carlisle. Plans have been agreed to, and tendera
are being received for the completion of the works.

The alterations, there is no doubt, will be real improvements, and will make
the place more worthy the noble cause with which it is connected*.

Carlisle, May 11, 1857*

WORKSOP.

On Sunday and Mondav, the 26th and 27th of April, the Anniversary
Services of our Sunday-scnools were held at Werksop. On the 26th, two
Krmons, beautifully illustrated by historical references, were preached by the
Rev. M. Baxter, of^London, to deeply interested congregations. On the 27th,
the annual tea-meeting was held in the school-room. The children were first
treated with tea and buns ; then their friends and other visitors took tea*
The collections after the sermons were larger, and the attendance at the tea
more numerous than on any similar occasion for several years. At the
public meeting, the chair was kindly taken, and ably filled by Mr. J.
Cheethtm, (Wesleyan). Appropriate selections of poetrv, &c., were recited by
the children of the school, and sung by the choir ; after which followed the
^t of the evening, a speech from the Rev. M. Baxter. He showed us,
from the history of the Anglo- Saxon race, and from the history of our own
^untr^, how Christian education raises and ennobles communities as well
as individuals. ** Righteousness exalteth a nation." The only thing to be
regretted was, that he had not more time, as it is not often we in this rural
^i^tnct get such an opportunity.

The anniversary has been the best in every sense that we have had for
some years. May the teachers of our school, be enabled to thank God, and
»ke courage* They are exemplary in their perseverance under discou*
Y&gements.

S* SUZTB*

WORLE CIRCTTIT.

On Good Friday, apublic tea-meeting was held as usual in the Weslejraii
Association Chapel, Worle, it being the twentieth Anniversary of the opening

Digitized by VjOOQIC

294 ^ Bttigioui Ini$lUg$nve.

of that place of wonhip. About 220 penoiM aat down to tea with verv peat
zesti not to much for the obiect of feasting themielves, as for the Tiieasure
arising from the ffood fellowship of the roeetmff, which was truly sociable.

The number of kind friends m attendance has not been eaualled for yean
past. After tea, an old and esteemed friend* Mr. Derham of Wrington, wa«
called to the chair. The meeting was addressed by the Rev. W. Griffitb,
Messrs. Peters of Bristol ; Yutt of Ban well ; and Price of Weston. Mr. Derbam
of Yatton, gave out a hymn, and closed the meeting with prayer. The friends
have great cause for thankfulness to God for His blessing upon their efforts,
and are resolved to persevere in the great work of advancing the Kingdom
of Christ.

.Also tbe friends worshipping in the Wesley an Association Chapel at
Palmer's Elm, for a long time have thought it desirable to nlace an instrument
of music in their neat little chapel, to assist the singers in the worship of God,
and, accordingly, the congregation and others have liberally ijpsponded to the
call ; a new Harmonium has been purchased, and was opened on Sunday,
April 19th. The Rev. W. Griffith preached two excellent and impressive sermons
on the occasion.

At our March quarterly meeting, Mr. Griffith was cordially and unani-
mously invited to remain a third year in this Circuit ; after all it is a source of
^rief to our minds, that the work of God in the salvation of precious souls
IS not making that progress among us as we judge it ought, we trust however,
that the spirit of prayerful, active concern, will be awakened among us ; that
we shall renew our covenant to be the Lord's faithfully and for ever, and that
from a strong and clear conviction of the value of souls bought by the '^precious
blood of Christ," our purpose and resolve ever be, ** For Zion's sake I will not
rest, and for Jerusalem's sake I will not hold my peace, until the righteousness
thereof shall go forth as brightness, and the salvation thereof as a lamp that
burneth."

W. Gbhtith.

OLDHAM CIRCUIT.

Last Sunday was our Sunday-school Anniversary. We were favoured vith
the valuable services of Mr. J. Kirkham of Manchester, who preached two
excellent and profitable sermons. The attendance was much as usual, the
collections were upwards of 6/., which fully met the expectations of the
friends.

Several important improvements have lately been made in our school, such
as a new stove apparatus, bringing the gas-lights into the vestry, &c The
school has just been whitewashed and painted throughout, and cleaned.

When our present minister, the Rev. A. Wolfendeo, came into our Cireoit,
we had a standing local debt, of about ten pounds, which has all been paid off;
all the other expenses incurred by the improved condition of the achool hare
been paid also, and we have several pounds in the treasurer's hands to help ui
for the future. We have also got a new library into our school, to be
opened on the 24th instant, comprising 120 volumes : a valuable privilege
we have long desired, but never before obtained. When Mr. Wolfenden vtf
appointed to this Circuit, we had only about nine or ten members in the
Society at HoUinwood, but now we nave nearly thirtv members. The
Missionary contributions from this place did not formerly amount to more
than about six or seven shillings per year. But by extra efforts, and those
efforts being again and again most vigorously renewed, even with our small
means, during each of the last three years,, our Missionary contributions
have been nearly so many ]^ounds, and there is a stability in our Schools and a
firmness in our Society, which is said by those best able to judge, never to have
appeared before. But to the Almighty God of all our mercies and blesaiiigi
we offer our humble and united tribute of praise.

Samuel Yonoub.
Oiaham, May 14, 1857. •

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Religious Intelligence. 295

NANTWICH circuit;

Od Mond^, March 30th, the foundation-stone of tlie Wesley an Alio elation
Cbapel of Nantwich vas laid. The friends met in Barber-street Chapel,
(where they are now worshipping) at three o'clock, and formed in procession,
and preoeeded to the site of tlieir new Chapel, in order to lav the foundation
stone. The procession was headed by the Rev. T. A. Baylev, and the Rev.
E. L. Adams, the Congregational minister, who were followed oy the Trustees,
Leaders, Local preachers, Superintendents of the Sabbath- school* and the
Scholars. Upon arriving at the ground, the Rev. £. L. Adams gave out
hymn 747, Mr. Bateman read Psalm Ixxxiv., the Rev. T. A. Baylev engaged
in prayer. The Rev. Geo. Robinson then stated that the bottle he held m nis
hand was about to be placed at the foundation of the Chapel, and contained
a member's ticket and Preacher's plan for the present quarter, some small silver
coins of Her Majesty's reign, ana a paper, containing the following statement
of our origin, and a declaration of the doctrines we hold and teach*

"The foundation-stone of the Nantwich Wesley an Association Chapel, was
laid on Monday the 30th day of March, 1857, by Mr. Richard Horton, shoe-
manufacturer.

This section of the Church of Christ was founded in 1835, being a secession
from the Wesleyan Methodist Conference Connexion, in vindication of New
Testament principles of Church order and government. The doctrines
believed and taught, not as mere speculative matters, but as realities of infinite
moment, are—

1. Man's ruin by sin, involving the wreck of the immortal soul — its debase-
ment—pollution, enslavement, and perdition. 2. Man's redemption by Jesus
Chriat— a work effected by the interposition of a Saviour, divine, incarnate.
atoning — involving his proper divinity, his true humanity, his sacrificial
death. 3. Man's regeneration by the Holy Ghost, an inward spiritual and
moral cbauffe, effected in the heart of man by the Spirit of God, through the
instrumentality of truth, and not through the sacramental virtue of
ordinances. 4. Man's justification by faith. 5. The eternal happiness of the
righteous. 6. The eternal misery of the finally impenitent 7. That the
sacred Scriptures are given by the inspiration of God, and contain a perfect
rule of faitn and practice. 8. The inalienable rites of conscience, and the
obligations of brotnerly love towards the whole Catholic Church.

Signed by The Rev. Geo. Robinson, Minister."

T:Ko"ck.} Circuit stewards.

After the reading of this paper, the bottle was handed to Mr. Horton, who
proceeded to lay the stone, and then gave a very interesting account of the
introduction and progress of Methodism in Nantwich, after which the bene-
diction was pronounced, and the companv retired to the Congregational school*
room where arrangements had been made for a public tea.

After tea, the meeting was opened by singing and prayer, and Mr. Horton
called to preside. He stated that he felt himself honoured in being called
UDOQ to preside over that meeting, and could assure them that the work in
which they had been engaged this day had given him great joy ; he rejoiced
that he had lived to see the foundation-stone of a new Wesleyan Association
Chapel laid in Nantwich, at the same time he must say he would rather that
the honour of laying the first stone of the new Chapel, and presiding over that
meeting, had fallen to another Brother, and then called upon the Rev. Geo.
Robinson to address the meeting.. He said we all expected that John Petrie,
Esq,of Rochdale, a highly esteemed and liberal friend to our beloved Connexion,
would have been present with us this day. The Building Committee, on the
motion of our Chairman invited him to lay the foundation-stone of our new
Chapel, and preside over this meeting, and he would have done so had he not
been prevented by very important local business, and though I am glad to see
you occupy that place, I very much regret the absence of John Petrie, Esq.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

296

Poeiry.

but ai an evidence of bit lore to onr Zion, and bit dedra for our profpertty,lie
bas sent me \QL to preient to onr fiailding Committee. In bmlding bere a
aanctuary, our principal olgeet it tbe extension of onr common sidTttioii;
tbougb not indifferent to Churcb government, and our own dittinedTe
prineiplesy we are far more solieitoni about tbose grand tmtbs which tre
held in common bv the Chnrcb universal, by all evangelical and ipiritiul
Christians. Man ■ ruin by sin— bis redemption by Jesus Christ— nu re-
generation by the Holy Ohosb These are the great cardinal truths for which
we contend, and for the promulgation and defence of which we Isy tbe
foundation of a new sanctuary, and all minor questions must give place to
these. On proper occasions we are ready to avow and vindicate our prindplei
as Methodist Reformers, and Nonconformists ) but ordinarily we teach do
truths but such as are essential to man's salvation and Christian sanctifieation.
We devoutly and fervently pray that the congregations worshipping in onr new
Sanctuary may be ever favoured with Pentecostal seasons, signaUsed by tbe
Spirit's efiusion ; that within its walls the wonders wrought on Calvarv may
ever be proclaimed, and the hallowed name of Jesus ever be glorified ; that
many a smner may be here rescued from hell and converted to God, that the
widow's heart may be cheered and the mourner's tears chased away; that bere
many a spirit may be prepared for the great battle of life, the conflict of death,
and the triumph of heaven. The meetiug was likewise addressed by the Rot.
T. A. Bayley ; F. Hemnaing ; £. L. Adams ; Messrs. T. Wood and Bateman.
All expressed their desire for our prosperity in very warm and eloquent
speeches. At the conclusion of the meeting a very handsome Bible was pre-
sented to Mr. Horton.

The ladies gratuitously fbmished the trays. After all expenses were paid, ve
realised the sum of 19/. 8«. 9dL which the ladies presented to the building
Committee.

Nantwickf May ISih, 1857.

POETRY.

LIVES

prumMhfkimtojBtWir^

JHUe

O Inspiration t fhoa iUastrions page,
Thoa dost the truth rereal from age to age.
And aa thou dostth78elfiuifold,Iueeemliraoe,
And gladly haU thy beatific f aee.
Uy heart Borrendering to thy powerfal sway,
Feela chain'd by links of love I can't gainsay,
Becanse unlike to those which haugh^ tyrants

bind,
Thine draws my soul from death to life

sublime.

Kay my dear wife, to whom I give this gilt»
By thee in mystic fellowship be bless'd
And into secret places may she oft retreat,
To feel the Joys thy lov'd embrace create.
In wrestling prayer may her power be strong,
'Twill not weary though she tarry long,

The saToury inflnenee to my soul she viQ

impart,
It will with peaoe and Joy enrieh ay hsfft.

Dear wife, accept this gift so freely given,
'Twill brighten up thy pathway unto hesTen,
'Twill teach thee to endure the muneroas ills

of life.
And how to triumph in the frequent strife,
Between the world's spirit and the gxaee of

God,
Through life in death under aillietlon's rod,
'Twill teach thy hea?enbom soul to wing iti

flight on high.
Through blood diTine, to Joys eternsUy f

OUugow^

P.F.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

WESLEY AN METHODIST ASSOCIATION
JUNE, 1857.

The friends and supporters of our Missions will be glad to learn
that ''the Connexional Committee" have determined upon sending
oat, with the least delay practicable, our beloved brethren Sayer and
Middleton, as Missionaries to Australia. This will of necessity
involve the expenditure of a considerable sum of money. Let us
therefore, hope that our friends throughout the Connei^ion will do
their best so to increase the Funds at the disposal of the Committee,
that the Missionaries shall be sent forth without any diminution of
the means ordinarily available for the support of existing Missionary
Stations, at Home and Abroad.

The following deeply interesting communications, from the Bre-
thren in various parts of our Mission-field, have come to hand since
we issued our last "Missionaby Notices."

IRELAND— CARRICKFERGUS.

To the Editor,— Dear Sir,

It is with feelings of devout gratitude to the Giver of all Good, that I pro-
ceed to give you some account of the Lord's dealings with us in our Mission-
ary labours at this place. I am hapi)y to be able to inform you, that notwith-
standing the difBcult and discouraging circumstances in which this Station
was placed a few months ago, a decided change for the better has taken
place, things are now in a more hopeful and promising condition. After a
succession of storms we are enjoying a peaceful calm ; and after a long dreary
winter, the sun of prosperity is beginning to shine upon our Irish Mission.

Since my last communication we have had indications of good. Our con-
gregation on the Sabbath continues large ; our prayer-meetings are well at-
tended, a few have been added to the Society, and a gracious influence per-
vades our various means of grace.

Our cottage services present a field of extensive usefulness, the average
attendance is as follows :— Clippers Town, 20; Bonnabefore, 24; Scotch
Quarter, 40. Our prospect at the latter place is very cheering. It is a green
spot : by the way, a number of boys and girls are beginning to meet in class,
and we are praying that they may grow up to be pillars and standard-bearers
m our little church. God has given me the affections of the young people,
aod latterly I have been trying to enlist their sympathies and call fortli their
active energies in the Mission cause. A few weeks since I gave them a
number of Missionary Cards ; they willingly accepted of them, and waited on
their friends for subscriptions, and by this means they have raised a very hand-
jome sum. Being thus encouraged, to crown the whole, we thought we had
better have a Juvenile Missionary Meeting, and have a number of young per-
Mns to recite interesting pieces oearing on the Missionary theme. We suc-
ceeded in getting seventeen of them to take part in the meeting. Miss Hay
&mdly assisted in training them for the occasion*

X

Digitized by VjOOQIC

298 WISCONSIN. [1857.

Ob Tuetday, the Srd of March« vc held oiir first Juvenile MiifionaTy Meet-
iilg, the Rev. W. Dugan was in the chair. The Rev. J. Bickardhite, of Belfeit,
came to assist, and rendered us good service, and thank God our Httle chapel
was crowded; fiitbers andmotbers came to hear their childien* and brought
their neighbours and friends with them s and the dear young people ssid their
pieces remarkably well; and the singing of the Negro hymn tended to enliven
the hearts of all present ; everybody was pleased. The meeting was ooe of
unusual interest, and will be long remembered. The old members say it vu
one of the most agreeable and comfortable gatherings they have ever witneised
in the Back Quarter chapeL

You will be glad to hear that our young friendly with their cards and Jave-
nile Meeting, have raised 4/. 1«. 6d,

On Wednesday, the 4th February, for the first time we held a Misiionary
Meeting at Bennabefore, Mr. J. Weatherup, presided ; and the meetisg wai
addressed by Brother Simma. and myself » all present ivere fluuch deligoted,
and the collectioa was liberal.

Praying that our prosperil^ may abound yet more and more, I remaio,

Yours affectionately,

March lllhtlS67» ioa« CaLLUOS.

WISCONSIN.
To the EniTOK,— Dear Sir,

Mamt of the readers of the Magazine will probably remember that our
Mission at Wisconsin was commenced by a number of Leaders, Local-
preachers, and others from MuUion, in the Helston Circuit From letters
recently received, some information of a cheering character haa been obtained,
and as nothing respecthia the Mission has appeared in the Magazine for eome
time, 1 thought it woula gratify many of your readers to learn what ii the
state of this Mission, and therefore I forward the following extracts of letters
for publication, if you deem them of sulBcient intererest Both the letten
were addressed to Mr. Joseph Thomas, of Trevitho Mullion, who has kindly
consented to the publication of these extracts.

I am, yours truly,

C. Edwasds.

(From3£r. T. W. FoxhiU, dated Ycrkcille, 11th June, 1856.)

" I mentioned in relation to the revival (that you wrote about) to my brother
John and sister, Mrs. Moyle, whom 1 met in Racine a few days ago, and they
rejoiced with me to hear the glad news, and, glery be to God, we can also send
you an account of a revival of religion among us here in Wisconsin. God has
poured out his Spirit upon our Circuit $ especially at Yorkville we have experi-
enced a shower of heart-reviving love, a bttle over three months ago, underthe
ministry of Mr. Mitchell, who is a friend of Mr. Turner, one of the Local-preach-
ers, and at whose recommendation he was called out to labour as an idoerant
minister a little over six months siiice. Both Mr. Turner and his friend Mr.
Mitchell came from Manchester or its neighbourhood. At our last quarterly
meeting the number of new members added to the church at Yorkville amounted
to nearly &0 ; some of tbem were reclaimed backsliders—some old members
awakened to trim up their lamps, but far the greater number were fresh con-
verts, young men and women, boys and girls, and some staid peraons.
English, Welsh, Irish, and Americans, most of whom witness a good
confession. Some religious persons of otiier denominations who Arom time to
time attended our experience meetings, declared they had never witnessed any
thing like what they then witnessed, and owned that it was the hand of
God. Others, (Americans,) said they bad seen ^uch revivals in the Eastern
States but never in the Western ones. It seems at all events the best that
has ever occurred in Wisconsin. The work seems to be deepening and spread-
ing, there are great hopes that good will yet be done in the name of the Lord.
The >oung cunverts are full of flaming zeal, visiting from house to house, &c«

Digitized by VjOOQIC

1857.] AUSTRALIA. 299

Here I ask if yon will interest yourself in onr behalf, and procure for us from
fifty to seventy-five Wesleyan Methodist Association Hymn-books. We need
them very much, there are none like them in America. If you send them, or
see that they are sent, the money will be speedily remitted. Let the friends
know what the Lord is doinv for us in Wisconsin. I sometimes think they
pray for us, and if so God has heard their prayers. In a letter recently
received from Mr. Samuel James, in Oregon, he speaks of a revival of religion
there also ; some of Mr. James's children have been converted."

{Extract of a Letter from Mrs. 8. Moyh, dated Yorkvtlle, Uth Dee. 1856.)

'* About ten months since a glorious revival broke out here ; there were
many brought to God, old and young. They are holding fast. Our
congregations have increased so fast we are about to i^uU down our old
chapel and build a new onob The Spirit of God is working mightily with
the people. Our quarterly meeting was held at Yorkville, December 6tb.
Uncle James Harrv preached to us in the evening ; there was a good feeling
amongst the people. On^ Sunday morning he preached again from these
words, ' The Son of man is come to seek and to save that wnich was lost.' —
Luke xix. 10. Again we had a very good feeling. In the afternoon we had
a lovefeast, and it was a glorious time. In his characteristic manner, Mr.
Harry gave his experience, his face glowing with love to God, and his heart
yearning for his fellow-men. We have an excellent Sabbath-school here ;
all the teacbera are members of society, and many of the children too. We have
a good school library ; we have Carvasso's Life, and Wesley's, and Fletcher's,
and Mr. Willidms' the Patagonian Missionary. The last I have felt greatly
interested in. When I read of what they suffered it makes me weep. My
husband has been some distance to preach f while away a snow-storm came
on— he was in great danger^-hehad to purchase a spade and dig his way back.
After an absence of four days he returned home all safe* He bad a glorious
time with the peo^le^ and felt abundantly compensated for his toil and expo-
sure. The work increases,— we want more help; dmb willing to suffer and
endure all things for the cause of Christ"

As illustrative of the state of piety in our Church at Yorkville, the
following may be read with interest and profit, from the pen of the
writer of the last extract.

" It is more than twelve months since I have felt an earnest desire for full
salvation. I felt I could give up the things of the world but there was a
strong warring within — the flesh warring against the spirit. I often mourned
before God, and my pillow was wet with my tears. One morning I awoke
with these weirds, as if a voice had spoken to me, 'You must give up your own
will. Can you do that Y 1 said, * is that all. Lord T It appeared to me that I
could give up my life to be delivered from the burden which I felt Immedi-
ately such peace flowed into my soul that it was beyond description.*'

AUSTRALIA..

To the Editor, — Dear Sir,

Since my last communication the work of the Lord has delightfully ad*
vanced on this station.

Last week we held a series of special religious services in our chapel at
Ashby, Geelong. The following is a copy of the handbills by which we an*
Bounced these services to the public :—

'* Special Bdigunia Services. — The inhabitants of Ashby and Rildare are
hereby affectionately informed that it is intended (d.v.) to hold a series of
Special Religious Services, in the Chapels belonging to the Wesleyan Associa-
tion Methodists, situated in Ashby and Kildare. The order of Services are as
follows;—

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

300 AVSTRAJLIA; [1857.

" PRESTON STREET CHAPBL, ASHBT*

'* LordVday, Nov. 16, at 11 B.m., the Rev. M. W. Bradney will preacb.
Subject, — • Revival of God's work.' Hab. iii. 2.

" LordVday, Nov. 16, at half-past 6 p.m., Mr. Booley will preach. Subject,
— * Character and Effects of Infidelity.'

•• Monday, Nov. 17, at 7 p.m., Mr. Mowbray will preach. Subject,—' Lost
Souls past Redemption.' Psalm xlix. 8.

•* Tuesday, Nov. 18, at 7 p.ni., Mr. Fausey will preach. Subject,—* The Pro-
digal Son.' Luke xv. 11 and 32.

" Wednesday, Nov. 19, at 7 p.m., the Rev. Mr. Hocken will preach. Sub-
ject,— * Immediate Decision urged.' 1 Kings xiii. 21.

** Thursday, Nov, 20, at 7 p.m., Mr. Stonemau will preach. Subject,—
• The certainty of Death.' 2 Kings xx. 1 .

'* Friday, Nov. 21, at 7 p.m., the Rev. M. W. Bradney will preach. Sub-
ject,—' The Blessedness of True Piety.' Psalm L 1—3.

" ST. ANME STREET CHAPEL, KILDARE.

•• Lord's-day, Nov. 23, at 11 p.m., Mr. Pausey will preach. Subject,— * The
Deception of Jeroboam's Wife.' 1 Kings xiv. 6.

" Lord's- day, Nov. 23, at half -past 6 p m., the Rev. M. W. Bradney will
preach. Subject, —

** Monday, Nov. 24, at 7 p.m., Mr. Pausey will preach. Subject, — *The
Rich Fool.^ Luke xii. 16—21.

** Tuesday, Nov. 25, at 7 p.m., Mr. Mowbray will preach. Subject, — * Gospel
Invitation.' Isaiah Iv. 1.

*• Wednesday, Nov. 26, at 7 p.m., a Stranger will preach. Subject, —

" Thursday, Nov. 27, at 7 p.m., the Rev. M. W. Bradney will preach. Sub-
ject,— *The Retrospect.' Deut. viii. 2.

** Friday, Nov. 28, at 7 p.m., a General Band Meeting.

'* On Sunday, the 16tb, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, an Open-air Service
will be held on the space of ground, opposite the chapel in Preston-street,
when Mr. Bradney, and others, will preach ; and on Sunday, the 23rd, Mr.
Bradney and others will conduct Divine Service in the open air, on the ground
adjoining the chapel at Kildare."

At these meetings the power of God was signally realised by our own
people, and several poor sinners were admitted to the liberty of the children
of God. This week we are holding similar services in the chapel at Kildare,
Geelong, and the hand of the Lord is with us. I may just say these special
efforts are not put forth to save a declining interest, but to give additional im-

Setus to a progressing church. We are frequently called to rejoice over evi-
ences that the Gospel is the power of God unto salvation. ^ We are steadily
increasing in numbers and influence, and are taking a stand in Geelong, alike
useful to souls, creditable to our Connexion, and honouring to Christ, and if
we had but a numerous and competent agency, we could take a similar stand
in every part of the colony, and in the adjacent colonies likewise. It is
to be regretted that we cannot enter the many doors that open before us.
Other bodies are working vigorously to establish themselves permanency,
and if additional Missionaries are not soon sent out by our own denomination,
we shall find impediments to our establishment and progress peculiar to those
last in the field, and of this we have surely had enough at home. If the friends
of Methodist doctrine connected with a liberal church polity, really wish to
see their principles take root and spread, allow me to say there is no part of
the world so favourable to the accomplishment of this object as the Australisn
Colonies, and in my opinion a time more favourable than the present will
never present itself. I pay an occasional visit to the Diggings, but little good
can be effected without a regular agency ; and unless help be sent shortly, I
think it will be best to discontinue those visits altogether ; we want ministers
.to organize and take the care of ehurehes. Some of our own people

Digitized by VjOOQIC

1857.] .AtrSTRALIA. JOT

keep aloof from otber communities whose privileges would suit their neces«
sitous circumstances, and therefore be useful to their souls. I shall not feel
justified in being the means of keeping them out of Christian fellowship much
longer, and if i would, I shall not be able much longer to continue those
visits, as my duties at Geelong are becoming too numerous to admit of my
doing so. ** Come over and help us.*'

On Lord's-day, August 24, we opened a new place of worship on Heme
Hill, a pleasant elevation, tolerably populated, situated about two miles west
of Geelong market-square. The opening services were well attended. On
the following evening we had an excellent tea-meeting ; the movement looks
promising. The building is a weather-board cottage, fitted up in chapel style ;
we have hired it for twelve mouths, and if it answer we intend to make an
effort to get up a chapel.

On Thursday, November 6, we liiid the fQundation-stone of a new chapel,
within a mile south of Geelong market-square. In the absence of his worship,
the mayor of Geelong, who had kindly consented to perform the interesting
ceremony of laying the stone, but was prevented, by being called away to
Melbourne on public business ; Charles Read, Esq., one of our newly-chosen
Representatives for Geelong, performed the duties. After laying the stone,
the friends adjourned to a commodious room in the neighbourhood, and par-
took of an excellent tea; after which Mr. Read occupied the chair, and called
upon the following gentlemen to address the meeting, viz. — Messrs. Bradney,
Hocken, Mowbray, and Balding. We Expect the building will be opened early
in January, 1857. The edifice, which is of brick, measures 20 by 25 ; the design
is neat, and the building will be substantial ; the cost, including the land (free-
hold), will reach about 220/. The conveyance is executed according to the pro-
visions of our Model deed. When this place is opened it will make the fourth
in the immediate vicinity of Geelong that we shall have to supply with minis-
terial agency. This will be no easy task, judging from present appearances.
"May the Lord of the harvest send forth ]al>ourers into His harvest."

I am anxious to get into the heart of Geelong, and as soon as we have
strength, the attempt will be made.

Our cha])el at Ashby, which we opened about seven months after my arrival,
was erected on land of which we only had a four years* lease ; this was the
hest we could do at the time, though 1 must say, I often mourned after we had
taken tlie step, lest at the end of the four years we should have to commence
our work again. But prayer was made, and God has already interposed, and
things have been so graciously brought round that we have been enabled to
secure the freehold to the use of the congregation. The purchase includes
the land on which the chapel stands, the house in which I reside, and a corner
piece of ground, an excellent site for a commodious place of worship. The
chapel and house stand on the same allotment of which the reserved site is a
portion. The premises are very compact, and very eligible for our purposes.
We have a debt of something over 500/., including what remains on the cnapel.
We intend to aim at reducing it to 400/. the first year, and to sweep the
entire debt off as soon as possible.

God is with us, to His great Name be praise. Missionaries ! Missionaries!
do let us have Missionaries !

Mark Wilks Bradnet.

wesleyan methodist association at}8traltan annual assblfblt.

The Annual Meeting of the Representatives of this body was held in
George-street Chapel, on Friday, the 2nd instant. The proceedings through-
out were of a deeply interesting character. After the preliminaries were dis-
posed of the Assembly proceeded to the election of officers for the ensuing
year. The President and Secretary were re-elected, and — Bryant, Esq., was
appointed Treasurer. The operations of the past year were carefully reviewed,
and the results were of an exceedingly encouraging character. Several new
chapels have been erected in Melbourne and Geelong, and the surrounding
districts, and in all those places the foundation of a work has been laid, which
It is hoped will, under tne blessing of the Great Head of the Church, con-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

302 HAXBURas. [1857.

ttnne widely to extend and exercise a mighty moral inflaenee in our com"
munitiet.

The Sabbaih-schoolfl of the hodj haTe been in active operation daring the
past year. Several additional schools have been commenced, and from tlie
reports presented, those engaged in this noble enterprise have abundant resson
to take fresh courage and apply themselves more energetically and hopefiiUy
to the aecomplisfament of the grand objects at which they are aiming.

The Rev. M. W. Bradney gave some account of several minialerisl toan,
which daring the past year he has made through the various gold fields of the
Western Districts, from which it appears that the spiritual neeeasities of the
inhabitants of the gold fields are indeed urgent, and the feeline of deep regret
was expressed by the members of the Assembly, that from their inainlity to
procure suitable ministerial agency, it was not in their power to take immedi-
ate steps to supplv this lamentable deficiency, but the hope waa confidently
entertained that before long they would be able to avail themselves of men
fitted in every respect for so great a work.

An important correspondence has been carried on durin^r the last twelre
months, between this body and the Wesleyan Free Church m Hobart Tovn,
V.D.L., relative to the union of the latter Church with the Wesleyan Asso-
ciation Churches in Australia. After the correspondence was read, and the
subject fully discussed, it was resolved that the proposed union should be at
once cemented, on the same broad principles as those under which the Wes*
leyan Association and the Wesleyan BLeformers in England have lately
united.

During the present ^ear the Rev. Joseph Townend, President of the As*
sembly, will be the resident minister of the Geelong Circuit, the Rev. M . W.
Bradney will labour in the CoUinffwood Circuit, and it is expected that the
Rev. J. Fielding will take charge of the Mission in Hobart Town.

The numerical increase of church members during the past year is very ea-
couraging. The finances are in a healthy state, ana the general aspect of the
afiairs of the Connexion engender bright hopes for the future.

After votes of thanks to the Connexional officers for their services dnring
the past year, and to those friends who had so kindlv entertained the Repre-
sentatives from a distance during their stay in Melbourne, the proceedings
were closed by the usual exercises.

HAMBURGH.

To the Editob,— Dear Sir,

On Mondav, the 15th of October, we held our annual tea meeting. Tes
was on the tables, according to previous arrangement, precisely at half-past
five o'clock, at which time a very respectable company of residents and seamen
sat down, numberinff upwards of one hundred and forty. The tables were
furnished gratuitously by the friends of the Mission, in a manner which did
credit to the providers, and satisfied the wants of the provided. After they
had refreshed themselves to their heart's content, the cnair was taken by Mr.
Jackson, who gave out a hymn, and called upon the Rev. Mr. Van Andle to
pray. This done, the following were called upon to address the meeting—
Kev. Mr. Becker (Missionary to the Jews expelled from Warsaw at the com-
mencement of the present year); Rev. Mr. Van Andle (Episcopal Methodist,
Missionary of the American Board of Missions), and mjself.

The interest of the meeting was well sustained, and, if the countenance be
an index of the heart, the people were evidently well pleased. Most of what
was said by the speakers had reference to seafaring men, particularly to their
usefulness as a class of people. Special notice was taken of the services of
the Naval Brigade in the Crimea, bringing into prominence their devotednesi
and self-deniaL in forsaking the comforts of home, and enduring perils by
sea and by land, for the defence of our country and the ^lory of Great Britsinu
Many of our luxuries are brought to us by these men* it was said. Mention
was also made of the impression which foreign nations received through the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

[1857, HAMBUBGH. 803

conduct of our seamen, of the character of the English people, and that that
fact alone is sufficient to induce all Christian men to do their utmost for the
erangelization of the sea's population. As an evidence of the good resulting
fiom the efforts of this Mission, it was observed that an individual, who was
brought to God in the Bethel, and formeriy interested himself in lighting the
lamps, &&, is now a suceessfid City Missionary in London. One of the
speakers (Rev. Mr. Van Andle) said he owed his present position in society
and the Church to the instrumentality of this Mission, inasmuch as he re-
ceived his first impressions here some years ago.

The day was a most rainy one, the wettest, in fact, that we have had for
8ome time, which prevented many from coming who otherwise would have
done ; indeed, it was so splashy, that some who had bought tickets did not
make their abearance. The weather here, of late, has been exceedingly
Btoraiy and boisterous s some days the wind has blown a perfisct gale, and the
rain fallen in torrents, which has occasioned many disasters at sea. On Friday
evening, the 5th, the Sir John Franklin (English collier) was stranded on Sand
Itland, off Helgoland, and became a complete wreck, but the crew were
saved, and brought up to Hamburgh, on the steamer the Sabbath following.
The nukte is a religious man, and comes to the Bethel always when in port :
he came to Bethel on the Sabbath evenine referred to, having escaped a watery
grave. Last week, another English collier was lost off Heligoland, but, by
the mercy of God, the crew of this ship were also saved; besidet diese, many
schooners and small craft, belongins to different nations, have been lost A
great proportion of the ships wnicn came up last week had suffered more
or less from the atorm, eome having lost their biilwarks« others with their sails
split up, and some with their boats smashed.

0, then, how ira^^rtant it is that sailors should be prepared for every
event of God's ^ovidenee, seeing that disasters and sudden deaths throng
their path on every hand, and how necessary to lay hold of the great truths
of the Gospel, and preach them in all their weight and power to these men
of the sea. I never in my life saw more clearly the necessity of laying hold
of the fundamental principles of religion, and impressing them upon the
minds of my hearers, and of overlooking all sectarianism, than I have done
since I came here.

The Sabbath previous to kiat, I was called upon to perform the funeral
ceremony over Captain Maginnes. He was taken poorly on the Tuesday
previous, and died, 1 believe, the same day. The cook of the ^ip was attendr
mg his master, and had occasion to lean over him to render him some
assistance, and while doing so caught his breath, which took effect upon him
immediately, he was taken ill at night, and died before sunrise next morning.
On Sunday, August 31st, three of the crew of this ship' (the Sunbeam, from
West Hartlepool), were at the Bethel, and all engaged in prayer at the meet-
ing after the evening service. The Sunday following, two of their comrades
were oo more. In the afternoon* at three o'clock, they followed the remains of
their captain to the grave, when I read a portion of God's Word, and delivered
a short address to a Targe assembly of people, remarking how suddenly death
had overtaken this man, and said that ere another Sabbath dawned some of
them might be in Eternity, which proved to be true. Capt. Maginnes has been a
member of a christian Society, 1 am informed, for eighteen years, and, I be-
lieve, was prepared for his change. I improved his death in the evening to a
large and attentive congregation from Rev. xiv. 13. The carpenter of the ship
was there and engaged m prayer. Last Sabbath morning, just before I entered
the pulpit, I was informed that this man had died on Saturday, at one o'clock,
he stood on the grave side, at my right hand, the Sabbath before, and held
m^ hat while I addressed the people. Thus, the captain, cook, and carpenter,
of the same ship's company, in two short weeks were called into £temity.
How true it is that we know not what a day may bring forth.

HttmburgK Jno. Baron.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

804 BATH CIBCUIT. [1857.

CAMELFORD, WADEBRIDGE, AND BODMIN CIRCUIT.

On Good Friday last, the foundation stone of a new Chapel, in connection
with us, was laid at Edmonton, a villag^e about two miles distant from Wade-
bridffe, whieh has been lately built, to afford accommodation to the vorkoiea
employed in the Camel and Penguin Slate Quarries which are near. The site
for the Chapel, as well as the stones for building the same, were kindly given
by Edmund Hambly, Esq., solicitor, who built the village. By special invitation,
the Rev. James Cleave, of Wadebridge, who is now stationed in the Redruth Cir-
cuit, preached a very appropriate and useful sermon on the occasion, in the afte^
noon, to a large numoer of persons who were present, although the weather
was very unpropitious. And after « public tea, which was provided by the
friends in the neighbourhood, a meeting was held, when several excellent
addresses were delivered by the Revs. J. W. Gilchrist, James Cleave, and
Messrs. Freethy and Rogers, Local Preachers. The collections were liberal,
and all present were highly gratified, and, it is to be hoped spiritually edified.

A LOCJLL FABA.CHUL

BATH CIRCUIT.
In a letter to the President, Mr. Robinson writes ;—

Dear Sir, —

You will be pleased to learn that our cause here is now in a flourishing state.
Our congregations have been very good from the time of our union with the
Reformers, but for some time past they have been improving. Sometimes,
everv available seat is occupied, and almost every week additional seati
are being let. The classes are now well attended, and the spiritual
state of the Society is, I am happy to say, much improved. Vie have
already bad indications of Divine approval, in the conversion of one soul
and the awakening of others. Our friends are all in one spirit, and united
in effort. From the time of the union we have had uninterrupted peace. We
are now praying for, and expecting, the outpouring of the Spirit. Our united
prayer is that the showers of heavenly grace may descend upon our little Zion.
Two of our country places are also in a very encouraging state. Contrasting
the state of the Batn Society now with what it was a few months aso, we
are constrained to exclaim, " What hath Grace wrought This is the Lord's
doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes."

In a letter to the Corresponding Secretary, he says ; —

I was greatly encouraged on Sunday last, especially in the evening. The
Chapel was crowded, and a better feeling I have not observed since I came to
Bath. The Word was, indeed, with power. To God be all the praise.

Mt^ 6th, 1857. J. RoBiNsoir.

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

THE

WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE.

JULY, 1857.

PULPIT ELOQUENCE.

The question has often been asked, — Does the Bar, the Senate, or
the Pulpit, supply the best field for the exercise of Oratory? We
propose, in the following Paper, to suggest a few thoughts that may
assist the solution ; but in order to this, it will be necessary that we
should determine the nature of Oratory and its varieties ; — that we
should survey its history, and consider the nature of the material
which the Bar, the Senate, and the Pulpit, respectively supply for
the practice of the art. Then as to the signification of the term, we
may observe that Webster, following some of the Cyclopaedists, has
defined it "the art of speaking well, or of speaking according to
the rules of Rhetoric, in order to persuade. To constitute oratory,
the speaking must be just and pertinent to the subject ; it must be
methodical, all the parts being disposed in due order and connection,
and it must be embellished with the beauties of language and pro-
nounced with eloquence.*'

Such is the Art to which this question relates. In its essential cha-
racteristics it is the same wherever you find it, but in its secondary
qualities it differs according to the theatre on which it is exercised. ^
Hence the division of Eloquence into a variety of kinds, as for
instance, the eloquence of the Bar, the Senate, the Pulpit, the Stage,
and the Hustings. To the first, second, and third of these theatres
the question before us has relation, and the object of this discussion is
to determine which of them supplies the finest arena for the exercise
of the Oratorical art.

First, then, with respect to the Bar, it would appear that with one
exception — that of addresses to Juries — it supplies no field for impas-
sioned eloquence at all. What would be the effect of an impassioned
address in the Court of Chancery upon the Lord High Chancellor of
England ? Would it not be the excitement of contempt for the man
who could think to triumph thus over the cool judgment of a Chancery
lawyer? Nor would pathos be more effective in the other Courts of
Law. The practice of the Judge being, in the case even of Juries, to
caution them against that kind of jugglery by ^hich the Barrister so
often attempts to cozen the Jurors out of a Verdict. Accordingly, we
find the Bar has been exceedingly deficient in oratorical qualities of
the highest order. While the English Bar has produced numerous
judges of first-rate powers— numerous pleaders of the highest ability in
^^J argumentation — we are not aware that any members of the Eng-

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

806 Pulpit Eloquence.

lish Bar, except Brougham and Erakine, have been able to maintain a
first-rate reputation for powers of impassioned declamation^ which,
after all, is the perfection of the oratorical art. Sir J. Macintosh
once bid fair to rival these eminent men in this department Bat
he was early called to labour in another field, and with this perished
the early promise of success in the higher walks of eloquence. It is
possible, however, if he had continued at the Bar, that he might never
have excelled greatly in impassioned declamation. His mind was
probably of too logical a mould, and too philosophical in all its tastes
and tendencies, to have achieved great triumphs in the region of
the passions. At any rate, his dawn was full of promise. The
Edinburgh Review, vol. ii. p. 476, alluding to his defence of
Peltier, in 1803, for libel on the First Consul, says, " those prin-
ciples of the Freedom of the Press, have never been illustrated with
such force of historical painting, such extent of philosophical re-
flection, and such warmth of oratorical diction, as in the passages
which Mr. Macintosh has bestowed upon this noble subject."

Nor has the Bar in other countries and times been a better field
for the exercise of this art than it is now in our own. The elo-
quence of the Bar in France has never amounted to anything;
and in ancient Egypt and Greece the pleadings were written, — ^a
very obvious reason why, in an oratorical point of view, they must
have been of the lowest merit.

The Senate having greater interests to consider, and disposing of
questions in which popular sympathies are more deeply involved, has
in all ages surpassed the Bar in all the higher specimens of the orato-
rical art. One is exceedingly apt to conclude favourably of those
pmeient theatres of Oratory, which could supply such masters of the
art as we have in the persons of Demosthenes and Cicero, more espe-
cially the former, who stands at the head of all the mighty masters oi
speech in ancient times, and so much above them as to put all rivalry
out of the question. It must never be forgotten, however, that some oi
the most powerful incentives to the cultivation of this art among th(
statesmen of Antiquity no longer exist in nine-tenthe of the States
of the Civilized world. We refer to the openness, even approaching
to facility, of those ancient assemblies to the magic influence of the
speakers. Brougham, speaking on this point says — Demosthenes al-
ways addressed an audience perfectly open to persuasion. The people,
themselves legislators, if convinced by what they had heard, manifested
their conviction by instant adoption. The power of the orator was
confessed— the effect immediate, — his triumph complete. But when
Fox, the greatest orator of modern times, arose in the British House
of Commons to deliver his Demosthenean harangues, how difierent
were the circumstances ! He had an audience whose decision wa-}
in ninety -nine cases out of a hundred, taken before the first sen-
tence of the debate was uttered. Their opinions might be de-
posited in the Head of their Honourable selves, or in the Pockets
of the Minister, or in some other place, but one thing invariably
occurred, namely, that they were deposited in places where the
eloquence of that great master never could penetrate. Accordingly,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Pulpit Eloquence. 307

it is a notorious fact, that wben Fox appeared on one side of the
question and Pitt on the other, their powers respectively were
exerted without producing the slightest result on the division. The
well turned periods of the latter had no charms for the Opposition, —
the powerful declamation of the former was steadily resisted by the
Honourable men that crowded the Ministerial Benches. Than these
orators none ever had to deal with questions of graver import : none
ever threw themselves more heartily into the arena of discussion, and
none, except in one or two memoi'able instances, ever found more
completely, by experience, how useless was the war of words in an
assembly, where each member had indissolubly bound himself to his
foregone conclusion. So the inference clearly is, that if in modem
Senates two or three great orators have arisen, they have become great
not hy the facilities which the Senate House supplies for the display
of Oratory, but rather in spite of obstacles which it presents to the
exercise of that fascinating art.

The only remaining theatre for the display of oratory which this
question involves is the Pulpit, which must, we will venture to affirm^
present the finest field for the practice of the art, whether considered
with respect to the objects which it aims to achieve, the peculiar aids
which are available to it, or the matchless sublimity of the topics it
touches on.

Never did objects so truly noble as those of the Pulpit occupy the
attention and inspire the ardour of an orator. " Human suasion," as
Robert Hall has admirably remarked, " can operate only on principles
which already exist. When Demosthenes, by his powerful eloquence^
excited the Athenians to combat, he only called into action, by a
skilful grouping of motives and an appropriate exercise of his genius,
principles already existing, but which had lain dormant. He created
nothing new ; he transformed them not into new creatures, but only
roused and stimulated those principles which had animated the bosoms
of nations in resisting tyranny in every age." But when the Christian
orator preaches faith in Christ, he enforces, he demands, if we may so
speak, a state of things perfectly novel and unexampled. He proposes
to revolutionize the aSfections': his purpose is to galvanise, by the battery
of Truth, ^' the dead in trespasses and sins " into a condition of
spiritual vitality ; he seeks to communicate impulses to the human
soul, which, by the law of sympathy, shall extend to all the virtuous
beings of the universe, and be propagated by successive shocks of
this moral electricity onward throughout eternity !

We shall be told that these are noble objects, and, if attainable,
worthy of an eloquence incomparably superior to the noblest speci-
mens of the art which antiquity has handed down to us ; but that,
unhappily, those objects are above any powers of achievement
possessed by the human mind. This is admitted, if the powers of the
Christian orator be viewed abstractedly from the aids which are
supplied by the dispensation of the Spirit to the successful practice of
Christian Oratory. But this is an essential part of the case, and any
estimate of the ix)wer of Pulpit eloquence is essentially defective
which overiooks the aid which the orator derives from the influence of

t2

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

808 Pulpit Eloquence.

the Spirit. Hear what one of the great orators of Christian anti-
quity says on this head — " Paul planteth, Appollos -watereth, God
givetb the increase/' So that while orators at the Bar and in the
Senate are confined to the exertion of merely human powers, ilie
Christian orator, while availing himself in common with others of all
merely human aids, is seconded in his efforts, hy the power of the
Holy Ghost, The eloquence of the Christian Pulpit, therefore, when
exemplified most perfectly, has a character decidedly preternatural.

But any view of the superior facilities which the Pulpit supplies for
the practice of Oratory would he exceedingly defective, which should
not take into account the matchless sublimity of its topics. OdIj
think of the Immortality of the Soul—the Resurrection of the Dead—
the Conflagration of the £arth — the Last Judgment — Heaven and Hell
•—the Death of Christ — the Miracles of the Jewish cuid Christian Dis-
pensations— ^the touching incidents — ^the chivalrous deeds — the mag-
nanimous characters of Scripture History, and tell us where you will
find anything to compare with them as materials for the very loftiest
displays of oratorical power ? But the sublimity of the topics on
which the Christian orator discourses is not the only thing remaining
to be noticed, for there are these peculiarly exciting considerations
to stimulate his efforts ; first, that the speaker is himself the ambassador
of God to the people, and, second, that the interests of the people
to all eternity hinge, in an eminent degree, on the ability with which
his address is delivered to them. We shall be told of eloquence at the
Bar and Senate having its aids also, derived from the consideration that
the interests of a man or a country are pending on the success of the
Orator's effort. That there are such aids no one will deny. We, for
one, cheerfully admit their influence, and we will even add, that but
for such considerations operating on the minds of such men as Erskine,
F0X9 and Brougham, in perilous times, they never could have been
inspired to make those magnificent displays of their power and skill
which have placed them in the first rank of Orators. But while admit-
ting tliis fact, we demand of you, that it should be^ist applied where
it is most eminently applicable. The greatest interests at stake among
mortals are not those of a prisoner at tlie bar : nor even those political
interests which are jeopardised by stretch of prerogative, on the one
hand or tendencies towards revolution, on the other. No. The greatest,
the most enduring interests of Man, are those of the Immortal Mind:
interests so incomparably momentous that, when sacrificed, they consti-
tute the greatest calamity that can befal man ; the most awful and ex-
citing event that can happen in the Universe of Being. Take these two
fects, then — first, that the Christian orator speaks under the practical
belief that he stands in the immediate presence of his Master ; and,
second, that interests greater than ever moved the sympathies of a
Demosthenes or a Cicero depend upon his eflTorts, and you will be shut
up to the admission that the Pulpit is incomparably superior to every
other place, as a theatre for the display of impassioned eloquence !
In nothing is this auperiority so obvious as in the motives to action
which are urged in this great field for the display of Oratory. Those

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Pulpit Eloquence. 309

motives are drawn from eyery portion of the spiritual universe, and
they are adapted to exert an incalculable amount of force. The
temporal motives of the Advocate and of the Statesman are not suffi-
ciently penetrating to reach the inmost recesses of Humanity ; they
are not sufficiently refined to act upon the highest and noblest elements
that enter into that mysterious compound which we designate Man ;
but what is wanting in the Forum and in the Senate to operate on the
most sublimated susceptibilities of human nature is abundantly
supplied in the Pulpit by the oracles of God !

Let us compare the eloquence of the Senate with the eloquence of
the Pulpit, and see whether these opinions are justified by the
specimens which the greatest masters in both departments have
supplied. With this object we shall put Hall against Demosthenes
—and those two mighty masters of the moving art, be it observed,
spoke in circumstances as nearly parallel as possible. Both spoke
against mighty conquerors— the former against Napoleon : the latter
against Philip of Macedon. Hall addressed an ecclesiastical demo-
cracy at Leicester — ^Demosthenes, a civil democracy at Athens : the
former spoke in behalf of Europe and the Human Race — the latter
on the side of all Greece.

The illustrious orator of Athens, in order to inspire an intense hatred
of the great Macedonian Chief, described him "in the Chersonese " as
being "the enemy of every creature within the city, and of those too who
most flatter themselves that they enjoy his smiles. Do they deny it?
Let them look at the fate of those Olynthians,. Lasthenes, and Euthy-
crates, who, to all appearance, were his particular favourites, and no
sooner betrayed their country into his hands, than they perished by
the most miserable of deaths." This description is enlarged in the
fourth Philippic by an allusion to his implacable enmity to both the
gods and the men of Greece, " He is the enemy of the gdda themselves
who guard us, — may they utterly destroy him ! " Such is one of the
finest efforts of the greatest of ancient orators to turn the feelings of
the Athenians against a sworn enemy of their state. Let us see how
Hall attempts, two thousand years afterwards, to turn the feelings of
his audience against the greatest enemy to mankind which modern
times have produced. This great orator describes Napoleon as " a
man bred in the school of ferocity, amidst the din of arms, and the
tumult of camps, — ^his element war and confusion ; who has changed
his religion with his uniform, and has not spared the assassination of
bis own troops ; it is easy to foresee what treatment such a man will
give to his enemies, should they fall into his power ; to those enemies
especially, who, saved from the shipwreck of nations, are preserving as
in an Ark the precious remains of civilization and order, and whom,
after destroying the liberties of every other country, he envies the
melancholy distinction of being the only people he has not enslaved.

Recollect for a moment his invasion of Egypt, a country which
had never given him the slightest provocation ; a country so remote
from the scene of his crimes, that it probably did not know there was
such a man in existence, (happy ignorance, could it have lasted I) but
while he was looking around, like a Vulture perched on an eminence.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

810 Pklpii Eloquence.

for objeets on which he might gratify his insatiable thirst f<Hr rapine,
he no sooner beheld the defenceless condition of that unhappy
conntrjy than he alighted upon it in a moment. In vain did it struggle,
flap its wings, and rend the air with its shrieks i the cruel enemy, deaf
to its cries, had infixed his talons, and was busy in sucking its bkK)d,
when the interference of a superior power forced him to relinquish his
prey and betake himself to flight. Will that Vulture^ think jou, ever
forget his disappointment on that occasion, or the numerous wounds,
blows, and concussions which he has received in a ten years' struggle ?
It is impossible, it were folly to expect it. He meditates, no doubt,
the deepest revenge. He, who saw nothing in the blood-bought
liberties of the Swiss to engage his forbearance, nothing in proclaiming
himself a Mahommedan to revolt his conscience, nothing in the con-
dition of defenceless prisoners to excite his pity, nor in that of the
companions of his warfare, sick and wounded in a foreign land, to
prevent him from despatching them by poison, will treat in a manner
worthy of the impiety and inhumanity of his character, a nation which
he naturally dislikes as hemgfree^ dreads as the rivals of his power, and
abhors as the authors of his disgrace J' (P. 188, 189, vol. i.)

We proceed now to give you the much-admired peroration of one
of Demosthenes' celebrated Philippics, along with the celebrated pas-
sage of Cicero, in the conclusion of the first oration against CatiUne,
and to place the immortal Hall's peroration to the ^* Sentiments pro-
per for the present crisis," before you, as decidedly superior to either.
Demosthenes concludes thus : — " Never, never, O all ye gods, may
any of you sanction their endeavours I but rather, may ye infuse
into them a better mind and disposition ! If, however, they be thus
incurably perverted, — send them, themselves by themselves — to utter
and swift destruction, both upon land and sea ! and vouchsafe to us,
who remain, the speediest deliverance from our impending dangers,
and lasting security." It is probable that Cicero had this passage
in his eye when he drew up the peroration to his first oration
against Catiline. Certain it is, that in the most important particu-
lars the Roman very much resembles the Athenian. Cicero concludes
the oration referred to, in these words : — " Then thou, Jupiter, who
has been established by Romulus, with the same auspices with which
the city was established, whom we may name truly the Stator of this
City and Empire, wilt ward ofi* this Catiline and his companions
from thy altars, and from the other temples ; from the roo& and the
walls of this city ; from the lives and the fortunes of all the citizens;
and thou tvilt sacrifice all enemies of the good, enemies of the country,
the robbers of Italy, united among themselves by a covenant of crimes
and by nefarious society, alive and dead, with eternal punish-
ments."

From these most splendid passages, of the two most distinguished
of all the Oi*ators of antiquity, we turn to the celebrated peroration
of Hall, just alluded to. He was addressing his congregation at
Leicester, on the 19th of October, 1803, while the invasion was
hourly expected, and at the close of his sermon, turning firom
his ordinary congregation, he addressed himself to a company of

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Pulpit Eloquence. 311

Yolimteers tbat were present.* The Orator said, '* Go, then, ye
defenders of your country, accompanied with every auspicioas omen ;
advance with alacrity into the field, where God himself musters the
hosts to war. Beligion is too much interested in your success, not to
lend yoa her aid: she will shed over this enterpcize her selectest
influence. While ye are engaged in the field, many will repair to
the closet, and many to the sanctuary; the faithful of every name
will employ that prayer which haa power with God; the feeble
hands which are not equal to any other weapon, will grasp the sword
of the Spirit ; and from myriads of humble, contrite hearts, the voice
of intercession, supplication, and weeping, will mingle in its ascent
to heaven, with the shouts of battle, and the shock of arms.

While you have everything to fear from the succesa of the enemy,
70U have every means of preventing thai success, so that it is next to
impossible for victory not to crown your exertions. The extent of
your resources, under God, is equal to the justice of your cause. But
should Providence determine otherwise, should you fall in that struggle,
should the nation fall, you will have the satisfaction (the purest
allotted to man) of having performed your part ; your names will be
enrolled with the most illustrious dead, while posterity to the end of
time, as oflten as they peruse your memorials, will turn to you a reve-
rential eye, while they mourn over the freedom which is entombed in
your sepulchre. I cannot but imagine that the virtuous heroes, legislators,
and patriots, of every age and country, are bending from their elevated
seats to witness this contest, as if they were incapable, till it be brought
to a favourable issue, of enjoying their eternal repose. Enjoy that
repose, illustrious immortals ! Your mantle fell when you ascended I
and thousands, infiamed with your spirit, and impatient to tread in your
Bteps, are ready to swear by Him who sitteth upon the throne and liveth
far ever and ever, they will protect freedom in her last asylum, and
never desert that cause which you sustained by your labours and
cemented with your blood. And Thou, sole Ruler among the children of
men, to whom the shields of the earth belong. Gird on Thy sword most
^hly% go forth with our hosts in the day of battle ! Impart in
addition to their hereditary valoui*, that confidence of success which
springs from Thy presence I Pour into their hearts the spirit of
departed heroes I Inspire them with Thy own ; and while led by
Thine hand, and fighting under Thy banners, open Thou their eyes, to
behold in every valley, and in every plain, what the prophet beheld
by the same illumination—chariots of fire and horses of fire I
* Then shall the strong man be as tow, and the maker of it as a spark,
and they shall both bum together, and none shall quench them.' "

Nor let it be thought that because Hall was a poor Baptist Minister
it is ridiculous to speak of him as rivalling Demosthenes, Cicero, and
the greatest of the Ancients in the highest walks of Eloquence. If this
question be one which must necessarily be determined by authority,
we know no higher authorities than can be cited in his favour. His

• Our readers will understand that wc here pronounce no opinion on the "War
daestion. We limply regard the passage as a great display of Oratorical ikilU—

Digitized by VjOOQIC

312 Pulpit Eloquence*

eloquence was the admiration of Bnch judges as Deiiman, Madntosb,
and Brougham. Indeed, the last named of this illustrious triad, pro-
nounced Hall " the most eloquent of orators," and requested an intro-
duction through Mackintosh. At the interview he could not refrain
from complimenting the orator on the high merits of his discoarse.
But Hall, with characteristic devoted ness to the Christian cause, in-
terrupted him thus — "But what of the suhject, Sir? What think
you of it, Sir? Was it the truth of God, Sir?" With respect to
the peroration from which we have made these admirable extracts,
it is recorded that Pitt (than whom, probably, no better judge in
modern times could be cited), said, on reading the sermon in which the
passages occur, " that the last ten pages are fully equal, in genuine
eloquence, to any passage of the same length that can be selected from
either ancient or modern authors." — (Dr. Gregory's Memoirs of Hall,
p. 69, V. 1 . of Hall's Works.)

But we shall be told that the spirit of Eloquence pervades every
passage in Demosthenes, while only one or two passages of transcend-
ant merit can be cited from Hall, and these the cumulative results of
a life-time. This, however, is a great error. Hall's eloquence was
the wonder of all who heard him on nearly all occasions. Dr. Gre-
gory, alluding to this particular, says, " I am persuaded that if Mr.
Hall could instantly have impressed his trains of thought on paper,
with the incorporated words, and with the living spirit in which they
were conceived, hundreds, if not thousands of passages, would have
been preserved, as chaste and polished in diction, as elastic and
ENERGETIC IN TONE, as cau be selected from any part of his works."—
(Memoirs, p. 59.*) The testimony of Dr. Gregory is supported by that
of Mr. John Scott, formerly Editor of the " London Magazine," and
one of the most eloquent writers of the age. Speaking of Hall, he
says, '^ The plainest and least inspired of his discourses are not with-
out elegant gleams of imagery and felicitous turns of expression.
He expatiates on the prophecies with a kindred spirit, and affords
awfiil glimpses into the valley of vision. He often seems to conduct
his hearers to the top of the " Delectable Mountains," whence they
can see from afar the glorious gates of the eternal city. He seems
at home among the marvellous Revelations of St. John ; and while
he expatiates on them, leads his hearers, breathless, through ever vary-
ing scenes of mystery far more glorious and surprising than the wildest
of Oriental fables. He stops when they most desire that he should
proceed — when he has just disclosed the inmost dawnings of the im-
mortal glory to their enraptured minds, and leaves them full of imagi-
nation o/*<Aiw^s not "made with hands," of joys too ravishing for
smiles, and of impulses which wing their hearts " along the line of
illimitable desires." — (London Magazine, No. 14, Feb. 1, 1821.)
' And if Hall's sermons are justly celebrated for the eloquence of the
style and the beauty and grandeur of the conceptions, they are not
less remarkable for their immediate effects upon the auditors to whom
they were delivered. We are told, by Greene, in his "Remini-
scences," that when this great orator delivered a discourse on " Be-
* Large paper edition of Hall's Works.— jB(?«7or.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

l^lpit Eloquence. 813

loved, now are we the sons of God," <Sbc., a clerg3rman who had never
heard him before, observed to his friend at the close of the service,
that he had never heard anything like it ; and that he conld hardly
tell whether he was " in the body or out of it." He adds, " Several
persons were taken ill from the extraordinary excitement ; and a
physician acknowledged that he had not got over the impression at
three o'clock in the afternoon of the following day. It was a sort of
religious crisis on the spirits, something like that which animal mag-
netism is said to produce."

Grinfield, a clergyman of the Church of England, alluding to this
discourse, fully corroborates the statement of Greene. He says,
"It was remembered as pre-eminent in sublimity of thought and
eloquence." The preacher is said to have appeared as one almost
" out of the body," — as one who had been favoured with a glimpse of
the "beatific vision !"

The annals of Pulpit Eloquence contain another great name which
it would be unpardonable to omit. We regret, however, that we have
only space for a scene or two in the brilliant career of that illustrious
man. We refer to George Whitfield. He was preaching in the open
air to thousands upon thousands of people. A minister, an eye-
witness, has thus described the scene. Meantime, says he, I could
think of nothing but the last day and the wrath of God. You see
that young man yonder ; he has come he thinks to mock — in reality
he has come to be converted, and to be made a minister of the New
Testament. I heard Whitfield afterwards, and for a long time held
out. He described the Sadducees, that touched many, but it did not
touch me. He described the Pharisees — that did not touch me.
Suddenly he broke off, burst into a fiood of tears, and lifting up and
wringing his hands, he cried with a loud voice, " Oh I my hearers I
the wrath is to come ! the wrath is to come ! " Those words followed
me, they haunted me wherever I went; I could think of nothing but
these awful words. The wrath is to com^ / — the wrath is to come !
Those fashes, like sudden lightning in a cave, seemed to illuminate all
parts of the vaults of a sinner's soul. Just at this very moment,
clouds, which had been for some time gathering, covered the sky, and
swept in dull, shadowy masses over the wonderful scene, — ^he seized the
figure — there was a shadow over the field — "Look !" said he, as it
veiled the brightness of the sun ; " Look ! your lives are like that
cloud — as swift and short and dark ! You must aU appear before the
judgment-seat of Christ ! — all this vast assemblage will behold the
Judge." His eye gradually lighted up as he proceeded, till towards
the close it seemed to sparkle with celestial fire. ** O sinners ! " he
exclaimed, " by all your hopes of happiness, I beseech you to repent.
Let not the wrath of God be awakened. Let not the fires of Eternity
he kindled against you. 8ee there^^ said he, pointing to the light-
ning which played on the corner of the Pulpit^ " *tis a glance from the
angry eye of Jehovah I Hark I" continued he, raising his finger in
a listening attitude as the thunder grew louder and louder, and broke
into one tremendous crash over the crowd. " It was the voice of the
Almighty as he passed by in his anger." As the sound died away,

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

314 The Masiard'Seed Era.

he coyered his face with his hands, and knelt beside his j^dpit
apparentlj lost in inward and intense prajer. The stonn passed
rapidly awaj, and the sun, bursting forth in his mighty threw acrots the
heavens a magnificent arch of peace. Kistng and puintixig to &«
beautiful object, he exclaimed, '^ Look upon the rainbow, and praise
Him that made it. Very beauti&l it is, in the brightness thereof.
It eompasseth the heavens about with glorj; and the hands of the
Most High have bended it ! " On another occasion, he was illQ»-
trating some spiritual subject by a poor old beggar, led by a dog, in a
dark night, throu^ cold, rain and tempest^ '^ the po(Mr wanderer^" said
he, " wends his way till at last he reaches the edge of a fearful cliff.
He does not know of the danger beneath ! He does not know that
death is there ! His dog is not faithless but he is lost. He does not
know his way. The night is very dark, and the dog has taken the
false step. He is over the cliff! But this poor man holds on.
Another step — another step." At this moment up rose a Rustic in
the congregation, crying in a scream of distress, " Good heavens I
He* 8 gone I Save him, Whitfield/" Does not this far surpass
Sheridan's great effort at the Impeachment of Warren Hastings ?

The time would fail us, to record the triumphs of Massillon
in this field. To Saurin, the Protestant minister of the Hague, of
whom it is said, that when he was preaching on one oecusioD, a
military officer rose up and inquired whether it was a god or a mortal
that he heard, we can only just allude ; as also to Philip of Namine,
of whom we read, that when he preached in the pulpit of Home, his
hearers when going from beneath the sound of his voice, audibly
exclaimed, as they passed along the streets, '^ Lord have mercy upon
us I " The immediate effects of that Minister's eloquence were such,
that two thousaud crowns are said to have been expended in one
week, in the purchase of ropes for the formation of whips to infiict
the laceration of a self prescribed penance. Nor were the effects of
this great master's eloquence confined to the lower orders. When he
preached before the Pope, to the Cardinals and Bishops, he repre-
sented the evils of non-residence, in so frightful a manner, that from
thirty to forty Bishops immediately betook themselves to their neg-
lected dioceses, and when he preached before the University of
Salamanca, his eloquence moved 800 students to renounce the plea-
sures, pomps, and honours of the world, for the monasteries that
were open for their reception. How grand a display of oratory must
that have been which was signalised by such prodigious e£^ts?
What equal number of cases can be cited from the Bair and Senate, to
be compared in their effects with the cases now brought before you ?

THE MUSTARD-SEED ERA.

Professor Hackett tells us that, when crossing the plains of Akka in
Palestine, he saw before him a little grove or nursery of trees. On coming;
nearer they proved to be a grove of mustard ! Some of the trees were fall
nine feet high, with a trunk of two or three inches in oircnrnference,
throwing out branches on every side. He wondered whether Ihey were

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

The Mustard-seed Era. 315

strong enough for the birds to ^ lodge in the branches thereof." Ja6t then
a bird stopped in its flight through the air, alighted down on one of
the limbs, which hardly moved beneath the weight, and began to warble
forth a strain of sweetest music. Professor Hackett was delighted at the
incident. His " doubts were charmed away." The ''least of all seeds" was
actaally grown into a substantia] tree.

Reading this pleasant incident in Professor Hackett's Eastern Travels not
long ago, we fell to thinking how the Church of Christ, and every noble
enterprise of Christian love, has had its mustard-seed era. Small begin-
nings— mighty results ; this is the brief epitome of God's kingdom on
earth. We look into an upper-chamber in Jerusalem. A little band
are gathering. They are mostly obscure people from the out-of-the-way
portions of the city. There is not a grandee, or millLonaire, or a high
official among them. Some of them have just been out to Olivet, to bid a
sorrowful adieu to their ascending Master. And now they gather in — a
bereaved band — to a chamber which may have been the very one in which
the Last Supper had been eaten a few weeks before. There they plant the
seed of the Apostolic Church. Peter is there, with his rash, intrepid spirit ;
and incredulous Thomas, and sagacious James, and the beloved John. The
"women are there too, not a few. For where was there ever a good enter-
prise launched without female voices to cheer it, and female hearts to give
it aid ? Among them is Mary, the mother of the departed Christ.

The first thing they do is to pray. They get the influence of heaven as
the pervading element into their souls. Hand in hand they gather round
the mercy-seat, and continue with one accord in supplication. Here they
knit their souls in fraternal love. Here they plead for the promised Spirit
to consecrate the movement. Here they lay the foundations of that church ,
which will yet plant its outposts at the farthest limits of a redeemed
world. What a tree has sprung from that " mustard seed !" Its boughs
have gone out over oceans ! Its leaves are bright biographies of Christian
lives ; its flowers emit the fragrance of the King's garden ; its fruits are the
myriads of the white-robed in Paradise.

So it is with every holy undertaking since the Apostolic age. An " upper
room" can hold the germ ; but a whole nation or continent cannot contain
the outcome of it. The Sixteenth Century Keformation was at one time
" the least of all seeds," to human appearance. When Borne was at its
highest and its worst, a hooded monk was studying, praying, groping, and
struggling in Erfurth Convent. Young Ulric Zwingle was musing over the
Scriptures among the waterfalls of Wildhaus. Luther and Zwingle were
humble seeds to grow such a giant tree from. But it did grow nevertheless^
a magnificent Banian, striking its branches downward, and sending its
roots beneath the seas, to spring up on distant shores ! All manner of
singing-birds have made music " in the branches thereof.

The Puntan movement for colonizing America was once a mustard-seed,
floated over in the hold of the Mayflower, and planted under a freezing sky
among rocks and ice. At Henry Thornton's house on Clapham Green, Wil-
berforce and Clarkson nursed the germ of African Emancipation ; from that
prayer-consecrated dwelling they went forth with the watch-cry of Liberty,
to arouse a stiff-necked Parliament and gainsaying people.

Every individual church has a mustard-seed era. It was at first small.
Perhaps it was born (under God) in some one devout loving heart ; or in
two or three hearts fired with zeal for Christ. It began in anxiety for
souls. It began with prayer and self-denial. It grew by hard work. It
drew its life from heaven. It spread forth its boughs. The conference of a
few warm hearts expanded into a church. That church gave birth to other
churches, which in turn will drop their mustardnseeds into new soil, and
germinate. What an incentive this is to church-extension, and to aggres-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

816 Godliness viewed in eonnecHon with Temporal Things.

wve work for God and humanity ! Beader ! you never know what may be
the after history of the mustard-fieeds your holy zeal may plant

A traveller through a dusty road

Strew*d acorns on the lea^
And one took root and sprouted up.

And grew into a tree.
Love sought its shade at evening time,

To hreathe its early vows,
And age was pleased, in heats of noon,

To hask heneath its houghs.
The rohin loved its dangling twigs,

The hirds sweet music bore.
It stood a glory in its place,

A blessing evermore.

So, a thinker dropp*d a fruitful thought,

'Twas old and yet was new —
A simple creature of the brain.

But strong in being true ;
The thought was small — its issue great—

A watch-fire on the hill,
It shed its radiance far adown,

And cheers the valley still.
O germ ! O light ! O word of love !

O thought at random cast !
Ye were but little at the first.

But mighty at the last ! T. L. C.

GODLINESS VIEWED IN CONNEXION WITH
TEMPORAL THINGS-

No. II.

We have seen that Godliness is a preservative of that which is an
important accession to human happiness, viz : good health. We have
found that by enjoining upon us conformity to the physical laws, under
which we are placed, it promotes our welfare, physically.

We intend now to view the influence of Godliness under another aspect
We shall endeavour to show its value in promoting our welfare.

Mentally. We ought to remark, that we use this term in a limited
sense. It is not our intention now, as might be supposed, to refer to the
stimulating and beneficial influence which it exerts upon those faculties of
the mind usually designated " the intellectual powers."

The reader will perceive, as we advance, that we simply refer to the
state, and not to the powers, of the mind. We do this, because rightlj to
estimate the value of Godliness in connexion with temporal things, it is
necessary that we should view its influence in this aspect. For in order to
enjoy temporal things, as we are all aware, it is absolutely necessary that
the mind should be free from anything like anxiety, doubt, or fear.
Without a peaceable mind we could not retain the former blessing of good
health (the connexion existing between it and the body being so intimate).
Supposing however that it was possible to do so, we £ould remain
strangers to happiness and full enjoyment. Clothe a man in " purple and
fine linen." Let him " fare sumptuously every day." Grant unto him every
temporal blessing that the earth could aflbrd, except the one we have
named, and in vain would be your attempts to make that being a happy
man. Many a crowned head with a disturbed mind, would willingly have

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Godliness viewedin connection with Temporal Things, 317

changed places \rith the most menial of his subjects, with a mind at ease .
Does Godliness then bless its followers with this inestimable boon ? Does
it 80 affect the state of the mind as not only to allow us freely to enjoy
temporal things, but also actually to increase the happiness which we may
derive from themi We feel no hesitation in asserting that it does.
There may be, — there undoubtedly are, often great mental disquietude and
anguish, when the first rays of its pure light dart into the soul enwrapped in
moral darkness. Nevertheless, in its own good time it whispers to the poor
distressed mind, '^ peace, be still," and invariably there follows a great calm.
Godliness brings to its possessors "a peace which passeth all under-
standing," wholly unlike the so-called peace of ungodly men, the world
can neither give it nor take it away. Those that walk in the paths
which it points out (as numbers can testify) have *' great peace." Those
beautiful ways into which it leads, are to those who enjoy it, " ways of
pleasantness " and " paths of peace." Men often have their minds disturbed
by the recollection of past sins. It is only the most hardened that can
quell that " still small voice," which ever and anon reminds them that
" sin will not go unpunished." Godliness however exempts its followers
from suffering continually the lashes of a guilty conscience ; they have no
gloomy forebodings about sins past. They have believed on the " Lamb of
God who taketh away the sin of the world," and although when looking
down the vista of their past life, they behold that their ^ sins have been
many " yet relying on the meritorious sacrifice of that Redeemer in whom
they have been taught to trust, they feel that they are all forgiven them.
The peace of their minds is not disturbed by thinking of their Creator
as their inexorable Judge, for Godliness teaches them to regard him as
theur reconciled Father. With such a mind the reader will readily
conceive how much greater will be the pleasure they derive from
temporal things. Behold the godly man rallying forth to behold the
beauties of nature. He gazes upon the michty mechanism of the universe
with tenfold more interest than he would do, if he was not taught to
regard the Almighty ruler of all, as his reconciled Father. With what
interest does a mind at peace with God gaze upon the rising and setting
Bun. With what delight does it watch the lovely moon, as alone in her
glory, she pursues her midnight track. How delightful for the mind to bo
at peace with that Beixig whose omnipotent arm bowled yon little worlds
above us into space. The possessor of Godliness

Looks abroad into the varied field
Of nature, and though poor, perhaps compared
With those whose mansions glitter in his sight,
Calls the delightful scenery all his own.
His are the mountains, and the valleys his,
And the resplendent rivers. His to enjoy
With a propriety that none can feel.
But who, with filial confidence inspired
Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye,
And smiling say, my Father made them all !

Innomerous ways (as the reader would find by a more minute examination
of the subject) does Godliness protect the mind from being disturbed. So
long as we yield to its beneficent sway, the mind retains a sweet tranquillity
only known to those alone who have experienced it. Who then will say
that the Christian is not prepared to be as cheerftil and happy as those
around him? We have heard professing Christians talk as though
Crociliness so affected the mind as to unfit us for enjoying lawful temporal
blessings. Many worldUngs imagine that to embrace Christianity you

Digitized by VjOOQIC

318 Godliness viewed in ^connexion with Temporal Things,

xnust bury yourself in gloom. No smile mast ever cross your features.
Sombre must be the aspect of your brows. With a sad eountenance, like
the Pharisees of old, must you wade your way through this earth as a dark
howling wilderness. We must confess that we long kept aloof fromeoming
under the influence of Godliness, because, from the appearance, conduct, and
ocmversatiou of many of its professors, we had thought its influence was to
depress the mind and make us unhappy. At last we were persuaded, bj
the Superintendent of the drcuit (the Rev. M. Baxter) we resided io, to
join a class of possessors of Godlioess, ^nd we feel profoundly grateful lliat
Almighty God thus led us to And out our mistake.

We would not be thought to advocate an easy religion. We do not be-
lieve that the glories of heaven are gained without having battles to fight ;
notwithstanding this^ we are persuaded that Godliness, with all the crosses
and the suiferings which follow in its train, exerts such an influence upon
the mind and heart as to justify a learned author in asserting, that
*' a gloomy Christian is an anomaly.*' It is a matter of deep regret that
the men of the world appear to have an impression that the reli^on of our
blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ has a tenden<7 to make us mentally
uneasy and even miserable.

We charge two classes of persons with deepening and confirming the
unffodly in this impression, the hypocrite and the formal professor.

The former class generally endeavour to make those that surround them
believe that they are posseasors of godliness by putting on ^ a sad coun-
tenance,'* and whining in a very solemn and, as they think, sanctimo-
nious manner. The latter are often indeed as unhapp^ in mind as the?
appear. The mental uneasiness and misery which often distress the
mere professor of godliness is easily accounted for. He has not suffi-
cient religion to give up his sins — not suflicient to make him happy.
He has, however, too much to remain comfortable, destitute of it. He
18 genei*ally punctilious in his attendance at the house of Crod. He
has all "the form of godliness,*' though destitute of the power. Sab-
bath after Sabbath does the ambassador of God place vividly before
him the horrors of hell, and the joys of heaven. Without the power
which godliness gives, he cannot ^ trust in the Lord with all his heart,"
he *' leans to his own understanding." Understanding keeps remind-
ing him that all his formalities will never save him from the former, nor
gain for him the latter. Such an one often appears mentally more mise-
rable than he, who bounding from all religious restraint whatever, cries,
« let us eat, drink, and be meriy, for to-morrow we die." The world,
never exact in its distinctions, attribates to godliness what is in reality
the result of the want of it. The world, blinded by prejudice and pa»'
sion, does not distinguish the hypocrite and fbrmsd professor from the
real possessor. Thus, by the way, we see how the hypocrite with his hollow
dissembling, and the formalist by his asoetic formality, may damn souls by
keeping them out of the church. Many rob themselves of the peace and
unspeakable joy which godliness grants to its possessors by not giving all
diligence to make their "calling and election sure." By not "pressing
forward toward the mark of their high calling in Christ Jesas." Godliness
enjoins upon its followers the necessity of progression. Their course must
be onward and upward. ^' The holy to the holiest leads." As sooe as ever
we disobey this injunction, and say in effect, to our spiritual life, ^'thos far
shalt thou go and no further,** we soon become surrounded with dark clouds
^ doubt and fear, and unless we seek the assistance of that Holy Spirit
which godliness hath taught us to seek, we are found groping about in
this darkness " seeking rest and finding none." Such ought ever to re-
member that the world will attribute all the mratal gloom they appear
to have to godliness^ and not to the want id it. While we avoid appearing

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Godliness viewed in connexion with Temporal Things. 819

light and giddy, let ns take care that we do not make the world believe our
godliness makes us gloomy.

We onght not to omit reminding the reader of the value of true godli-
ness in those hours of affliction and bereavement which come to all. Then
the mind is most likelv to be fluttered and distressed. However bright our
promise of temporal things may be, the brightness of that promise will one
day be darkened. We have promises bright as the sun m the morning,
darkened ere night had wrapped around the earth his sable mantle. We
hear daily the cries of distress set up by our poor humanity. We hear
numbers who have had their bright promises of temporal things nipped by
some untimely blast of misfortune or bereavement. Man, from the depths
of his heart, seems to be crying. Who will do me any good in such
moments ? Who will bring us a halm to heal this wound from which we
all must suffer.^ Godliness comes to him like some angelic messenger
offering relief. It will do for man in such moments what nothing on earth
can do. Offer to that wife, bereaved of her beloved hasband, all the wealth
of Golconda*8 mines, and do you console her ? Would not the offer be
considered as an insult, and the wealth spurned from her in painful dis-
gust ? Offer to that father who has lost his lad, the pride of his old age,
worlds on worlds, and do you effectually console him ? No ; as experience
has shown, to the ungodly as well as to the godly, religion is the only
true balm for this wound. Godliness teaches us to regard ** these light
afflictions " as *^ enduring but for a moment, and working out for us a far
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." The possessor of godliness
regards these Mictions as coming, not from the dust, but from the skies.
He knows they are all for the promotion of his well-being. Godliness
trains him to the belief of this. It assures him the blow is inflicted by
One who is too wise to err, and too good to be unkind. Does death snatch
away a beloved one ? Godliness assures its possessor that the departed is not
lost to the system of being, but only gone before. If those who have been
thus snatched away, have also possessed themselves of this great gift of
God, he is led to look forward to that time when he ehall again meet with
those dear departed ones, and on a happier shore, and in a brighter clime

" They shall meet to part no more."

Thns the mind is supported in affliction. However severe the storm, the
good man has his anchor cast within the vail, and when it passes over he
is still found riding majestically on the ocean of life with a mind prepared
to enter again into its vtarious duties. The prospect before him in the fu-
ture enables him to pursue his journey through life in peace, and full of joy.
It only remains for us now, ere leaving this part of our subject, to con-
trast the state of the ungodly with the state of the good man which we
have endeavoured to bring before you. Having, however, already occu-
pied space enough for the present, we must leave this for the reader to do.
We Ventura to i^rm, that the reader will flnd that the disturbed mind,
which invariably is the lot of the ungodly man, will prevent him from
enjoying to the full extent these temporal things, which are by a bountiful
Oreator given us to enjoy. You will find that in spite of his merry laugh
and jovial song, he suffers, mentally, much more than those whom he so
often pities. You will find but few among ^ the lovers of pleasure more
than Qod," that have not the peace of mind essential to the enjoyment of
temporal things, marred und destroyed by the lashings of conscience, and
the fearful foreboding that they wUl one day be called into account ** for
the deeds done in the body.'* You will find that in times of affliction and
hercavemrat, they are " like a wave of the sea driven about by the wind
•ad tost." You will find them scattered on the ocean of life, by the storms
thereof, like so many wrecks, without pilot, without anchor, and no proa-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

320 Domestic AsaocicUions,

pect of any haren before them. And as yon gaze npon the sad spectacle,
yon will feel the tmth of that declaration of the Deity himself — ^There is
no peace for the wicked. You will discover that even the individual whom
the world designates " a moral man/* is unhappy, having not come to the
•* Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world." WiUiout the
new birth, we affirm that von will find him, moral as he appears to the
world, destitute of that calm and tranquil state of the mind which vital
godliness alone bestows. When nature heaves, when thunders roll and
lightnings flash, you will behold him unprepared to look up to that Ood
"who sitteth on the heavens," and **who thundereth marvellously with
his voice.*' You will discover him unprepared to say,

'^ Howl on ye blasts, to me ye bring no dread.**

Happy is he who has embraced that Gospel which brings life and im-
mortality to light, which strips death of its terrors, and secures to its
possessors even on earth an abiding peace. Rejoice, ye sons of men, who
have secured a footing on that Rock which will stand immovably,

When earth's foundations melt away.

Reader, if thou art destitute of this peace of mind which passeth all
understanding, our prayer to God is^ that thou mayest have no rest until
thou has found it in Him, whose mission on earth was to bestow upon thee,
an unworthy child of dust, this inestimable boon.

March 10, 1857. P.

DOMESTIC ASSOCIATIONS.

RESCUB OF THE OUTCAST.

Standing on the steps of a house one evening, I was struck with the
countenance of a young woman who was passing. She was in company
with several females, who, it was easy to see, were of a vicious class, and
yet her countenance was not wholly despoiled of its natural modesty. It
evinced a good disposition, and I could not but feel that such a woman,
in her heart, must loathe a life of vice. Instantly there flashed through
my mind a strong desire to save her from her wretched course, and I ven-
tured to speak to her.

" Do you prefer this kind of life 1" I asked. "Not by any means," was
her answer. " Would you rather live a decent, honest life 1 " " Yes, I had
much rather." " How long have you followed this course Y' " Three
months and a half." She remembered the evil day. It was the first of
April ; a dark, rainy day, fit beginning for a life of such gloom and misery.
She had been betrayed, and as soon as she awoke to a consciousness of her
situation, she plunged into this course in a fit of despair. She spoke freely
of her dreadful fall, and I was convinced that she was honest in her story,
and sincere in her wish to be reformed. I looked at her wiih. unutterable
sadness and pity. She was " so young and so fair." Only nineteen years
of age, and already on the road to de&Sn and hell ! She felt all the horrors
of her situation. She was not without religious feeling, for she belonged
to a cood family, and had been religiously educated ; and she trembled at
the thought that her soul would be lost if she kept on her present course.

Until the one wrong step, a few months before, she had led a virtuous life,
and now she detested and abhorred the course into which she had been en*
snared. But how to escape from it was the difficulty. I proposed to her
to go to a House of Industry, as a place of refuge, until we could find her
a home in the country. To this she gladly assented, and I promised to call
for her the next evening.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Domestic Associations, 321

At the hour appointed I went, but could not find her. Three times I
called, but each time was deceived by the vile woman who kept the den of
infamy. At last I left word, so that it should get to her, and the next
evening I succeeded in finding her. I took her to the House. I then wrote
a request for her clothes, which she signed. As it seemed best to obtAin her
effects as quickly as possible, I hurried to the Police Station, and at once
made known my errand ; a police-officer was ordered to accompany me. At
the house, we procured the baggage ver}' readily by presenting the paper,
going to her former room, and unlocking it with a key which she had fur-
nished us. The trunk was a heavy one, and no porter to be had ; so I took
it on my own shoulders and carried it away.

In the street I found a boy to help me with the burden ; and we did not
stop till we had placed it in safety. A week after, I called to see this
young woman. She manifested the greatest j oy at her rescue, and was happy
in her present home. She took delight in the exercises of the school, and
especially in the services of the Sabbath, and expressed her firm resolve to
live hereafter a Christian life. I impressed upon her the importance of
aiming, not only at a life of purity and virtue, but also of piety and prayer.
Soon after this interview we procured for her an excellent situation, and
she now removed to the country. No one will ever know anything of her
former history, only that she was destitute, and obliged to seek for some
means of support.

I would not be too sanguine of the permanency of such a reformation,
but there is everything to hoi>e. Her natural disposition is not vicious,
and she is now surrounded by a circle of refined and Christian influences
^vhich will keep her in the light way. I believe that she is savedy and
instead of being a poor, blighted, lost creature, passing through a swift
decline into an early grave, she will ripen into a virtuous, noble, Christian
woman,--only the more humble, aud patient, and meek, from her first sad
experience. Are there not hundreds of such young women, who might be
saved by kindness and perseverance, that now float by us to ruin without
one arm being stretched out for their rescue 1 H.

THE ANGELS OF THE CHILDREN.

" Their angels do always behold the face of their Father which is in
heaven." Precious words ! But how doubly comforting this assurance to
those mourning hearts, from whom death has snatched their dearest trea-
sures! Their tears are, perchance, still watering those fair, early- withered
flowers which, happily escaped from our ungenial clime, are already bloom-
ing in the new Eden, fair, fadeless blossoms of immortality. The prayer,
scarcely lisped by those infantine lips on earth, is changed for ever into
ceaseless praise ; and the little hands which, had we kept them here, would
have felt toil and weariness, would have been often clasped in sadness, or
wrung in hopeless grief, now grasp the victorious palm, or strike to seraph
voices those golden haips once displayed to the enraptured gaze of the dis-
ciple " whom Jesus loved."

I knew a mother blest with these dear and too often idolized possessions.
One, a sweet child who, like that infant priest of old, seemed consecrated
even from his birth— among many other treasured stories that memory
fondly retains of his infant years — was wont, led by his own sweet inspira-
tion, to kneel by that mother's side and join the prayers of infancy to her
maturer and maternal pleadings. Once, when the hour was passed, and his
pure oiisons had not ascended in that double prayer — when the mother had
interceded alone for the child, and his earnest eye had not gazed into hers,
as with the rosy lips moving in unison his infant supplications were wont to
follow hers — that lovely babe, incapable of comprehending the cause, lisped
with inquiring earnestness the words, " You pray God 'fore you go." That

z

Digitized by VjOOQIC

822 Domestic Associatumt.

little evangeliBt was spared to gild with the siinshine of his infant pre-
Bence that mother*8 world, hot her first-hom was called, in the early
morning of his young life, into a day which shall never know any night.
Heayen called for its little citizen, and the summer flowers that hailed his
birth bloomed, in their return, on his new-made grave. In the quiver of
death are many arrows for the little children, but none that are ever shot at a
venture. The one that struck this dear one contained no poison ; and though
her choicest treasure was laid low, that mother could say, with the resigna-
tion of the pious Shunamite, " It is well with the child.**

'^ *Twas an angel visited the green earth.

And took the flower away."
As he lay before her, looking so cold in his long sleep, with a smile playing
on those pale lips like a sunbeam on a bank of snow, what thought could
prove so healing to the wounds in that maternal heart, as that the precious
infant soul was for ever removed from the woes of earth, and that his angel-
spirit would always behold the ^ face of his Father." Oh ! mother, who
readest these words, foe this thy faith and the faith of thy little ones. Such
duties as thine are indeed responsible, but thy privileges equal them in
weight. Though ceaseless thy cares, yet there is grace sufficient for thee.
Lead them, then, in those fair fields of infant piety where they, the precioas
lambs of Ohrist^s fold, may go in and out and find pasture, so that living
they may brighten thy path and quicken the souls of their earthly parents
— and that dying thou may est say, while the flowers wave over the little
graves, ** In heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father
which is in heaven." Vespeb.

A WOBD TO BEREAVED MOTHERS.

** It is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feast-
ing." I have ever found it so ; and one viait especially, which I made at no
distant period to a bereaved mother, was the means of most important in-
struction. I cannot forget the les&on, and would record it for the benefit of
mothers " refusing to be comforted.*' This mother was mourning the death
of a sweet, fair-haired girl of six, " who," as she said, " had been sent to her
as a ray of joy and light in a dark hour." She had died but a few weeks
before my youngest son, a lovely child of the same age, was called away.
"We were both mourners. While bowed down by sorrow myself, my heart
was drawn out in sympathy with another similarly afflicted.

When I entered this house of mourning, I saw that the arrow had fixed
itself in the soul of that mother, and I perceived in her, as it were, a picture
of myself, and was startled. This mother, bv refusing to acquiesce in the
will of God, was bringing herself to an untimely grave. It was evident,
from the efiects apparent, that Nature was taking revenge on the outward
frame for the disorder within. I put to myself the question, " Am I not fol-
lowing in her footsteps ? While Grod has left me other duties to discharge,
can I be right in giving way to grief, which must unfit me for their per-
formance, by undermining health, while it cannot restore to me the heloved
one ?" The impression was salutary. I determined, by God*s help, to malie
an effort to moderate sorrow, and the help sought was obtained.

A few mcmths after that visit, I stood by the dying bed of that sorrowing
mother. While still refusing to be comforted, another blow had fallen apon
her ; her husband was cut down in a moment. Then, with sorrow, her want
of Bubmission under her former trial was acknowledged. But disease was
rapidly doing its work on the mourner, and within a few months, child,
husband, and mother, were all slumbering beneath the same turf. Mothers!
beware of cherishing a rebellious, unsubmissive spirit. Our children are
blessings only lent, and when recalled, though with bleeding hearts, let us
meekly breathe forth the prayer, " Father, not my will but thine be done."

A.A.C.C.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Domestic Associations, 323

HEN OF BUSIXESS: THEIR HOME BESPONSIBILITIBS.

We Anglo-Saxons speak of the true idea of home as peculiarly our own.
Whether this be true or not, we cannot well exalt too highly the value of
home, nor watch too tenderly over its character and interests.

Home ! it is a little world ; it has its own interests, its own laws, its own
difficulties and sorrows, its own blessings and joys. It is the sanctuary of
the heart, where the afifections are cherished in the tenderest relations —
where heart is joined to heart, and love triumphs over all selfish calcula-
tions. It is the training-school of the tender plants which in after years
are to yield flowers and fruits to parental care. It is the fountain whence
come the streams which beautify and enliven social life.

If any man should have a home, it is the man of business. He is the
true working man of the commuiiity. The mechanic has his fixed hours,
and when these have run their course, he may, ere the day closes, dismiss
all anxiety as his labour ends, and seek the home circle. Comparatively
little has been the tax on his mind, and not much more on his physical
system, as he learns to take all easy. But the man of business is under a
constant pressure. His is not a ten-hour system, with an interval of rest ;
but he is driven onward and onward, early and late, without the calcula-
tion of hours. He must be employed. In the earnestness of competition
— in the complexit}' of modern modes of business— in the fluctuations
which frequently occur — in the solicitous dependence on the fidelity and
integrity of others — he has no leisure moments during the day. With a
mind incessantly under exciting engagements, and a body without its
appropriate nutriment, he may well pant for home, and hail the moment
when he may escape from his toils to seek its quiet, and its affection and
confidence.

The man of business should have a home ; not a mere dormitory, Alas !
what an abuse it is to call the mere lodging-place, which a man reaches
after dark, and which he leaves after a breakfast taken often by candle-
light, a home. Mr. X. L. M. has a superb property, eight miles from town,
on the main thoroughfare out of the city ; every passer-by admires it. But
what is it to, him, as he scarcely sees it by daylight, except on Sabbath?
To what does all his outlay in garden statuary, and beautiful flowers, and
picturesque rivulets, amount in his case ? It is his own, it is true ; this
gives him a feeling of independence ; but what delight does he drink in,
and what participation has he with his family, in that which should be a
common source of enjoyment ? To them there is little of real enjoyment,
as the feeling of loneliness mars all ; while he is very much as the man
who puts up for the night at the house opposite, called ^* The Traveller's
Home." They both tarry for a night.

It is a very grave question whether a man in all this is doing himself
justice, either mentally or physically — whether he is meeting, or is in a
condition to meet, the claims wtich the members of his family have on him;
and, especially, whether be thus meets or can meet his responsibility to
God, who places the solitary in families ; or to society, which must receive
its controlling influences trom hi% and similar circles. It is to be feared
that we are degenerating in our ideas of home, as we are growing in wealth
and multiplying our luxuries — that just so far as we depart from the views
of home which our fathers cherished, so are we removing from our true
interest, and throwing ourselves on what is superficial and ephemeral.

z2

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

324
KNOWLEDGE.

**Tbat the soul be witfaont knowledge is not g^ood.*' Prov. xix. 2.
** Many shall run to and fro, and kaowledge shall be increased.*' Dan. xn. 4.
" Wisdom and knov ledge shall be the stability of thy times." Isa. zxuii. 6.
"Giving all diligence, add to your virtue knowledge." 2 Peter L 5.

The man of knowledge lives eternally after his death, while his members
are reduced to dust beneath the tomb ; but the ignorant man is dead even
while he lives upon the earth, he is numbered with living men and yet
existeth not- An Arabian Author.

Every branch of knowledge which a good man possesses, he may apply
to some good purpose. C. Buchanan.

Wisdom of itself is delectable and satisfactory, as it implies a revelation
of truth and a detection of error to us. It is like light, pleasant to behold,
easting a sprightly lustre, and diffusing a benign influence all about; pre-
tsenting a goodly prospect of things to the eyes of our mind, displaying
objects in their due shapes, postures, magnitudes, and colours; quickening
our spirits with a comfortable warmth, and digiposing our minds to a cheer-
ful activity ; dispelling the darkness of ignorance, scattering the mists of
doubt, driving away the spectres of delusive fancy, mitigating the cold of
euUen melancholy ; discovering obstacles, securing progress, and making
the passages of life, dear, open, and pleasant. We are all naturally
endowed with a strong appetite to know, to see, to pursue truth; and with
a bashful abhorrency from being deceived and entangled in mistake. And
as success in enquiry after truth, affords matter of joy and triumph; so
being conscious of error and raiscaniage therein, is attended with shame
and sorrow. These desires, wisdom, in the most perfect manner, satisfies,
not by entertaining us with dry, empty, fruitless theories, upon mean and
vulgar subjects ; but by enriching our minds with excellent and useful
knowledge, directed to the noblest objects, and serviceable to the highest
ends. Dr. Barrow.

Knowledge, and ^especiaiy spiritual and religious knowledge^ is a sweet
and copious spring of joy« Warm affections without knowledge can rise no
higher than superstition.

Happy they who delight in being instructed, and who take a pleasure in
Btoring their minds with knowledge. Wherever adverse fortune may throw
them, they always carry entertainment with them, and the disquiet which
preys upon others, even in the midst of pleasures, is unknown to those who
can employ themselves in reading. JFenelon.

The I^rd has taught us to know, and has opened to us tho felicity of
knowing, a felicity to which the pleasures of sense — though they also are
proofs of his benevolence— bear no comparison, either in loftiness, or dura-
tion. In th^ one we have a pleasure in common with ail animal natures, in
the other we share the felicities of angels, and the blessedness of God
Himself. Richard WaUon.

I held it ever.
Virtue and knowledge were endowments greater
Than nobleness and riches : careless heirs
May the two latter darken and expend ;
But immortality attends the former,
Making a man a god. Shakspere.

Ignorance is the curse of God,
Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven. Ibid.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Siography of Mr, John Foster, of Sunderland. 825

What is it tbat mainly distinguishes a man from a bnite ? Knowledge.
What makes the vast difference then between savage and civilized nations P
Knowledge. What forms the principal difference betwen men as they
appear in the same society ? Knowledge. What raised Franklin from the
humble station of a printer's boy, to the first honours of the country?
Knowledge. What took Sherman from his shoemaker*s bench, gave him a
seat in the American Congress, and there made his voice to be heard among^
the wisest and best of his compeers ? Knowledge. What raised Simpson
from the weaver's loom, to take a place among the first of mathematicians ;
and Herschel from being a poor fifer boy in the army, to a station among
the first of astronomers ? Knowledge. Knowledge is power. It is the
philosopher's stone ; the true alchemy that turns everything it touches into
gold. It is the sceptre that gives us our dominion over nature ; the key that
unlocks the storehouses of creation, and opens to us the treasures of the
universe. Hawe^a Lecturer.

We must, by our example, kindle in youth the admiration of letters, and
make them love them for themselves, and not for the profit they may hiring.
The rain of letters brings with it the destruction of all that is good — religion,
morals, divine, and human things. The better a man is, the greater is his
ardour for the preservation of letters ; for he knows that of all plagues,
ignorance is the most pernicious. MelanethotK

Man by nature is ignorant, he has no innate ideas, and needs instruction.
Knowledge is a great blessing, it is a rich source of delight, and in many
respects an unspeakable advantage. All may derive benefit from its pos-
session, and the more so, the more it is increased. Let no one suppose that
it would be worthless to him. All may experience its power to soothe, to
gratify, to elevate, and strengthen. Let none be discouraged ; a little know-

prospect extends, and pleasures increase as we proceed. To acquire know-
ledge, we must associate with those who are able to instruct us ; we must
" give attendance to reading," and exercise the mind in close thought. It
is a great blessing that in the present day, there are many facilities for
mental improvement. All who desire to store their minds with valuable
knowledge may do so, and those who remain in ignorance are certainly
culpable. Thank God, good books are plentiful and cheap. But particular
care must be taken to meditate, as well as read. Some who read much
know comparatively little. As it is not what money a man earns that makes
him rich, but what he saves, and as it is not the quantity of food he eats,
that nourishes and strengthens him, but what he properly digests, so it is
not what he reads that enriches his mind, but what he makes his own by
vigorous thought. Meditation is the digestion of the mind. Thought is
our dignity, it is an exercise, but it is both pleasant and profitable, it is
the price we must pay for knowledge. " In all labour there is profit," and
especially in the labour of the mind. Reader ! the inviting fields of pre-
cious truth are before thee, the rich stores of knowledge are accessible to
thee : knowledge is better than gold, go make thy mental fortune.
Scarborough, May 20, 1857. Charles E. Hopper.

• BIOGRAPHY.
JOHN FOSTER, OF SUNDERLAND.
A Sketch read at the close of his Funeral Sermon, in Brougham Street
Chapel, Nov. 16th, 1856, by Rev. Aquila Keene.
It will now be expected that I shall lay before yon some account of the
lite and death, the religious experience and Christian character, of our

Digitized by VjOOQIC

826 Biography of Mr, John Foster^ of Sunderland*

deceased brother John Foster. In responding to this expectation, I do not
hesitate to avow myself honoured, in liaving been selected for the solemn
task. It sometimes occurs that ministers are desired by partial frieudts, to
call public attention, in the way of funeral sermons, to characters whose
religious history has been by no means exemplary ; and whose failings
have been far more conspicuous than their graces. In the present in-
stance, however, we have nothing that requires to be adroitly shaded, or
dexterously omitted : nothing for which to claim indulgence, by telling
you that ' to err is human, but to forgive divine.' We need not now disarm
your severity, by telling you, * there are spots in the sun.' We are not
even required to apologize for virtues, rendered almost vices by their
excess, and instead of speaking warily, * of faults that leaned to virtue's
side/ we can lift up our voice like a trumpet, and say, * behold an Israelite
indeed.' And for this, I am sure all pious hearts will join me, in saying,
* give unto the Lord, give unto the Lord the glory due unto his name.'
Brother Foster's * lovely tempers' were *the fruits of grace,* — bis high
attainments and deep enjoyments, his willing and abundant labours, his
patient equanimity, his uncomplaining endurance, his untarnished integrity,
and his final victory, were not the triumphs of natural virtue, or the
spontaneous exfoliation of goodness indigenous to the human heart. If in
any respect he was better than his neighbours, it was not because he was
born with a better nature, but because he was * born again of the Spirit,'
— *a righteous man,' — *a child of God,' — and there is not a saint on
earth, or a ransomed spirit in heaven, who would more readily disclaim
all self -laudation, or more cheerfully ascribe all praise to God, than
John Foster would have done. Were he permitted now to speak for him-
self, we are quite sure that the spirit and burden of his address would
be, * O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.'

Brother Foster was born in the parish of Ryton, in the neighbourhood of
the Tyne, on July 1st, 1803. His parents belonged to the working-classes.
By religious profession, his mother was a ^Methodist, his father attended
one of the Scotch Churches. He was trained in his childhood to revere
the Sabbath and attend the Sanctuary. In his early youth he was
distinguished from his companions and equals in years, by bis thonghtful-
ness, and bv his quiet and reserved habits. He was even the subject of
serious reflections and sacred impressions ; and yielding himself to the
gracious influence of these early drawings of the Spirit, he avoided as a
matter of choice, the follies and waywardness of youthful depravity.
Under the same gracious leadings, he undertook the duties of a Sabbath-
school teacher; and while engaged in this important work, his mind
gradually became enlightened, aroused, and alarmed. He saw himself in
the Gospel-glass as a condemned, unsaved sinner. The need of a JSavionr,
the importance and imperative necessity of an ascertained pardon, im-
pressed his conscience and oppressed his heart. He was now unhappyi
because he had found out that he was unsafe. The pardon he needed, he
resolved to seek ; and after the usual conflicts of a penitent soul, he VM
enabled to lay hold of the hope set before him, and found redemption in
the blood of Christ, even the forgiveness of his sins. He received the
Spirit's sure witness, and was made happy in the realized favour of God on
Easter Sunday, in the year 1818, while his mother was praying with him,
and for him, in her own house at Gateshead, to which place the family had
removed.

He was then about fifteen years old, and from that time to the day of
his death, he never lost his joy in God. Through all the after years of hia
pilgrimage, in storm and sunshine, he held fast his early confidence in
God's mercy, counting it more precious than rubies, and more to be desired
than fine gold. This appears to have been singled out as the grand aim of

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr, John Foster^ of Sunderland. 327

his life ; an object to which he was thoroughly devoted, and from which he
never suffered his attention to be beguiled or diverted. He removed to
Sunderland in the year 1826, where he continued to follow his trade as a
chain-smith; and was identified with the Methodist Society in this town
until the year 1835, when, disapproving of certain things which at that
time became subjects of warm and widely extended dispute in the
Wesleyan community, he, with many others, formed themselves into a
separate Society. Soon after the formation of the Wesleyan Association in
this town, he was called by his brethren into a more active religious life ;
being the leader of two very large classes, and in a short time, an
accredited Preacher on the Circuit Plan. Through all the excitements of
this transition from private membership to public office in the Church,
and from one community to another, he maintained ' the even tenor of his
way,* firm in his purpose, and clear in his convictions, without either
bitterness or bigotry ; and willing to bear the service of office, without
being ambitious of its honours. In this happy disposition of mind and
temper, he lived and laboured to the end.

Such is the short and simple story of his birth and parentage, his rank
and occupation, together with his outward religious history. He began his
earthly race in the poor man's cottage — above the line and level of that
elevation he never ascended — and in a dwelling similar to that in which he
drew his first breath, he breathed his last. He was a working man, earning
his bread by the sweat of his brow — a member of the many, a brother of the
multitude — thoroughly initiated in all the cares and toils, and privations and
disadvantages, of a working man's position : and yet he turned life in its
humblest form to good account ; and by his honesty, amiability, and piety,
he has carved his name upon the path by which he travelled, and left it there
to be read with respect and admiration by many. Where is the man who
knew him, who did not love him and admire him ? Where is the familiar
friend to whom his name is not dear, and his memory blessed P When did
a man, in the same rank in life, draw so many sincere and respectful mourn-
ers after his coffin and around his grave P The day of his interment was
marked by a most gratifying testimony to his worth. It was a dav of homage
to a humble Christian and an honest man. Hundreds were there to pay
the respectful, though simple, tribute of their presence to his memory. In
his last affliction, relatives, friends, and shopmates were forward to show
him tokens of true regai'd ; and, we doubt not, felt as much joy in giving
as he did gifatitude in receiving. There was no need of pressing appeals.
Spontaneous respect and affection supplied whatever was needful for the
convenience and comfort of the sick chamber and the day of sepulture. For
these kind attentions to a beloved brother we think it right to make sincere
acknowledgment in the name of all concerned. And here we cannot refrain
from asking the question, because we wish to answer if. What was it that
earned for Brother Foster such marked and manifold attentions ? The only
answer that we can give is, that * he was a good man.' All who knew him
felt him to be so : and we feel bound to * glorify God in him.' His religion
^as not a sham, a shadow, an empty name. It was what every man's reli-
gion ought to be — a vital principle, a daily duty, an embodied reality. The
attainments of scholarship, the mysteries of science, the profundities of
philosophy, the ecl&t of authorship, the favours of fortune, are all things with
which he had nothing to do. Worldly fortune never deigned to look at him :
worldly fame passed him by. He was neither mayor, alderman, nor coun-
cillorj neither wealthy employer nor thrifty money-making tradesman. No
sudden fortune ever thrust him into sudden notoriety. Men loved him, not
because of what he had^ but because of what he was. In the Church, he was
a lamp, a pillar, and a pattern ; and in the world, as far as his name was
known and his influence extended, he was * a burning and a shining light/

Digitized by VjOOQIC

328 Biography of Mr. John Foster^ of Sunderland.

Whether in the prayer meeting or in the grimy workshop, he breathed the
same spirit and walked by the same rule. The anvil, as well as the pulpit,
owned him as a man of God. Few, indeed, are fortunate enough to escape
the unfriendly opinion of some, but we never heard, or even heard of^ a dis-
respectful remart made concerning John Foster. His gentle spirit breathed
goodwill and love to all. ^ He served Christ in those things which make a
man acceptable to God, and approved of men.* He * followed after the
things which make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify another.'
Paul's description of charity is a true and faithful picture of John Foster.
Envy, vanity, rude and callous disregard of the feelings of others, selfish-
ness, irritable, angry tempers, dreamy dark suspicions, were things of which
none who knew him will ever dare to accuse him ; and for meek endurance,
readiness to oblige and serve others, and willingness to remain in the shade
himself, he had but few equals. His suavity, humility, and unobtrusive
modesty are features of his character with which many of us have been long
familiar ; and these and other kindred graces have often commanded our
silent admiration, and, I doubt not, have left their reflection on the photo-
graphic glass of our memory, too clear and too well-defined ever to fade
a'way.

Brother Foster's religious experience appears to have resembled, not the
shallow, i*attling brook, but the deep, broad, well-fed river. His soul seems
to have seized upon the great vital verities of the Christian system, with a
vigorous, tenacious grasp; and he would have as soon doubted his own
existence as have doubted * the certainty of those things which are most
surely believed among us,' concerning the mission and work of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ. The anchor of his faith and hope, was cast within
the veil of the divine covenant ; and there it remained both sure and stead-
fast. Instead of being like a ship out of her reckoning* tost about in
unknown waters on a dangerous coast, at the mercy of stormy winds, and
long dark nights, he lay sheltered and secure in a quiet haven. In the
redeeming work, and in the immutable well-adapted promises of Christ, he
found a refuge from the storms of a guilty conscience, and from the distract-
ing perplexities of a doubting mind. He found all his guilty fears, his deep
desires, his yearning aspirations anticipated, provided for, answered to, in

* the glorious Gospel of the blessed God.' There he found an atonement
for his sins, coupled with the promise of this life and that which is to come.
A saviour, a sanctifier, a providence, and a future heaven, all stood before
him as provided and guaranteed to him. In joyous response to this he said,

• It is all I ask, all I desire, all I want.' Mediatorial arrangements satisfied
his reason, and mediatorial promises gladdened his heart. Having ascer-
tained how a man might be just with God and find his way to heaven, 'he
went on his way rejoicing,' singing, as the watchword and purpose of his
life—

** Fixed on this ground will I remain.
Though my heart fail and flesh decay ;

His anchor shall my soul sustain,

When earth's foundations melt away :

Mercy's full power I then shall prove,

Loved with an everlasting love."

His religious experience was composed of * peace with God,' * joy in God/
' faith in God,' * hope toward God ;' and through all the mingled, shifting com-
binations and evolutions of this mortal life, he maintained his trust in GK)d,
his victory over the charms and frowns of the world, and his steady, blessed
hope of heaven. That his profession was not an empty name, his steadfast
unimpeachable consistency was a sufiicient proof. The * root of the matter
wa3 in him ;' and his many virtues, all had their origin and continuance in a

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr. John Foster, of Sunderland. 329

rich, deep religious experience. At one period of his life it was his painful lot,
with many others, to he out of employment for two whole years consecutively,
and at a time when the whole of his family was yet dependent upon parental
provision. I was then travelling in this circuit, and saw him often ; but I
never lieard him charge God foolishly, or speak of man unkindly. He
travelled as far and preached as often as ever. IJe sang as cheerfully and
shouted as loudljr as if employment had been plentiful and wages good. His
straightened, trying circumstances neither poisoned his temper nor destro;^ ed
his faith. O, that our Churches everywhere were composed of such 'living
epistles, known and read of all men.* Were it so, infidels and worldlings
would have no further use for their contempt and scorn. Christianity might,
even then, be an object of malignant hate, but to sneer at and despise it
would be impossible.

As a Local Preacher^ Brother Foster was everywhere, and at all times
welcome. He had clear, broad views of evangelical truth. Its leading doc-
trines he had well digested ; and although he never affected to be either
profound or original, he could expound and apply its practical duties and its
experimental mysteries, with more than common clearness and propriety.
His manner was natural, and his address and demeanour in the pulpit free
from all affectation and pretence. It was not his practice to aim at what he
could not reach, or attempt to explain what he did not understand. Curious
qaestions, profound distinctions, complicated discussions, attempts at elo-
quence, and all such matters, he left to other hands. Equally far was he
irom vulgar comparisons, coarse and familiar slang, and all attempts at wit
and levity. Common sense, solemnity, and intelligence, accompanied and
pervaded by the true spirit of his work, made him acceptable and useful to
hearers of every rank. In fulfilling the duties of his office, he was neither
factious nor complaining, as free from any disposition to take offence as he
was from any desire or intention of giving it. Any place, either distant or
near, large or small, was to him equally welcome. He served not man, but
God. He sought not the praise of men, but the answer of a good conscience.
He needed neither flattery nor entreaty to keep him at his post. Above the
little infirmities and vanities that afflict too many, he maintained his course,
and turned not back in the day of battle. And to this manly, steady uni-
formity of character and career, we attribute the universal confidence and
esteem in which he lived and died. He was not a child of passion, but a
man of principle ; he walked not according to the whirling whims of fancy
and self-will, but according to the known and solemn laws of Christian .
duty.

As an evidence that I am not indulging in the exaggerations of mere
individual partiality, I now add the testimony of my esteemed friend, the
Rev. E. Heywood. He says of our departed brother, " He was one of the
few of whom one can say, without hesitation or reserve, * He was a good
man.' A man of whom 1 cannot think without reverence, admiration, and
love. He was in company unobtrusive and retiring, but pre-eminently at
home at the throne of grace. He was one of those whom a gracious provi-
dence raises up at times to cast a lustre round the man of sufiering and toil.
I never heard him say a repining or complaining word. I never saw in him
anything to detract from a feeling of reverence and esteem. I think the
hetter of humanity for having known John Foster, and I magnify the grace
of God that made him what he was. I wonder not that a multitude fol-
lowed him to the grave. Thank God ! his grave is not a gloomy one.
He was one of the few who unite the spirit of meekness and good common
sense with high-toned spirituality and genuine revivalism. He bore toils and
trials for a long time, and in various forms ; but he was genuine— hence he
shone the brighter for having been in the fire. I would write as his epitaph
—John Foster lived and died a Christian*^
Brother Foster's experience in his last affliction was just what might have

Digitized by VjOOQIC

330 Biography of Mr. John Foster^ of Sunderland,

been expected. He was seized with his last attack while at his work;
and, after a few days of increasing weakness, he was obliged to take
to his bed. The weary journey was about to end. The mortal conflict
had began. Tlie last enemy was drawing near. And what were
the prospects of the battle? Thank God! his servant was ready
for the onset, and waited the issue without either impatience or dismay.
Instead of feverish, troubled, and trembling alarm, all was holy confidence,
strong consolation, joyous hope. His work was done. His Master smiled.
His reward was waiting. As he crossed the narrow, dark dominion of death,
he shouted back to his watching friends, again and again, * there is a light in
the valley — A light in the vallet.* Long known and much loved friends
were frequently with him in his affliction, anxious to testify their unshaken
confidence, and afford him assurances of their sympathy to the end. With
solemn interest they watched the incidents of the final conflict, anxious to
see how the way-worn traveller would finish his journey — how the weather-
beaten mariner would take the harbour — and how the faithful soldier would
acqait himself in the last battle. They found him ready for the occasion.
His lamp was trimmed, bis light burning, and there was oil in his vessel.
The pious portion of his visitors saw everything to induce them to ' thank God
and take courage ;* and between them and him nothing passed but rantnal
congratulations and reioicings. Others he warned, admonished, and en-
treated with honest fidelity and warm aflection. At times, his suflTerings
were very severe. Paroxysms of intense pain, frequently rendered him for
a time unable to utter a word or interchange a responsive look ; but as these
attacks passed ofi^, he broke out in exclamations of * Glory, glory, glory be to
God.' He had not now his religion to seek : he had it on hand for use and
comfort. Its blessed consolations * lay like a cordial at his heart.* His
sharpest agonies were coupled with joyful hallelujahs. Often, while friends
were praying with him, to use the words of one of them, he * seemed to be
breathing the happy immortality on which he was about io enter.* On
Sunday, October 12th, his cough, which had been very troublesome and
continuous, began to leave him, and his little remaining strength quickly
fiiiled. The Tuesday following, the marks of approaching death became too
plain to be mistaken, and a little after four o'clock in the afternoon, he turned
away, and without a word or groan breathed his last, leaving all behind him
happily assured that he was gone to be * for ever with the Lord.* And where
is the person who does not feel inclined to say, in the language of one of his
fdvourite verses —

" O ! may I triumph so,

When all my warfare's past 5
And, dying, find my latest foe

Under my feet at last.'*

And now, in conclusion, perhaps some of you may be ready to ask, why we
are so anxious to give prominence and publicity to the name and character of
John Foster ? We reply, not because we wish to exalt man, but becauae we
wish to glorify God ; and because we wish that the churches and the world
might be full of such men. We wish to prevail on others to walk by the
the same rule, and adopt the same principles, and exemplify the same apiiit.
And we call on you to serve the same Master and trust in the same SsTioor,
and live for the same heaven. O drink at the same fountain, walk by the
same light, and aim at the same end. Would you not like to die the same
peaceful, hopeful, happy death ^ When your last affliction comes, would you
not like to feel the same blessed joy and hope P Would you not like to meet
death with as little fear, and wait for your admission into heaven with the
same calm and glorious certainty ? Would you not like to leave behind j;ou
the same unblemished character and respected name P Would you not like

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

Biography of Mrs. Martha Edwards^ of Frodshan. 331

your last testimony to be, * there is a light in the vallei/ — a light in tJie valley r
Then, live as he lived. Wash in the same fountain, build on the same
Kock. You must die. All around us comes under the law of death.
Every flower dies, every leaf and blade of grass must die — every bird and
beast must die — and you must die. * Sin reigns unto death * over all earthly
things. And how will you acquit yourselves when your final hour comes ?
Shall it be a time of dark shadows, black clouds, deep agonies, trembling
alarm, bitter remorse, useless lamentations, and cowardly confessions ? God
forbid ! Seeing, then, that you must drink the cup, and pass the valley, I
charge and implore you, in the name of your solemn destiny and eternal
weal, to prepare ; and may God bless what I have said to the reproduction
of enjoyments as deep and lasting, and of virtues as lovely, bright, and
useful, as those which made up the experience and character of our departed
and now glorified brother, John Foster. — Amen.

MRS. MARTHA EDWARDS, OF FRODSHAM.

Died, gloriously triumphing in her Redeemer, May 10th, 1857, Martha,
the beloved wife of Mr. James Edwards, of Frodsham, in the forty- third
year of her age. Listen, gentle Christian, to a plain narrative, and then say
if the above statement is not justified by the reality. The deceased was the
eldest daughter of the late Mr. Francis Williams of Norley, who, for many
years was, with his wife, a member of the Methodist Society, but M'ho, on
the formation of the Association in 1835, at once went over, with nine-tenths
of the whole Society in that place, to the side where freedom of thought,
speech, and action, are recognised principles. She was born, August 1814,
and from about her tenth to her nineteenth year resided with an uncle, who
was a widower, in the Principality. While resident with him she regularly
attended the services of the Establishment one part of the day, and the
Welsh Methodists the other, and walked in the fear of God.

In the year 1833, on the re-marriage of her uncle, she returned to her
father's house, and, in the course of a short time she was led to embrace
"the truth, as it is in Jesus," to give her heart fully to God, and to become a
truly devoted follower of her Lord and Master.

In 1835 she became the wife of Mr, James Edwards, of Frodsham, and,
during twenty-two years that she was a wife, her conduct was characterized
l>y devoted affection for her husband, depth of maternal feeling for her
children (five of whom survive her), and earnest regard for the welfare and
progress of God*s cause. During the above period she never, on any occasion,
or under any pretence, attempted to prevent her husband taking his ap-
pointments as a Local preacher. However indisposed in body she might be,
or whatever else might seem to justify his remaining at home, she invariably
said, " 0 you must go and do your work ; the people expect to see you, and
It 18 a pity for them to be disappointed ; and, besides, you have got a cha-
racter to maintain." Would that all preachers' wives had the same jealous
regard for the cause of God and the honour and usefulness of their husbands !
She carried this regard with her to the cold gates of death, for, within two
or three weeks of her decease, and when laying on the bed of death, she
said to her husband, " My love, you are appointed at Helsby to-day, and you
nad better go." Firm in her attachment to the Association, she, when well,
was seldom absent from its public services, and she felt a pleasure in giving
a welcome to the travelling preachers, who have at different times travelled
in the North wich Circuit, and the majority of whom have for two or three
aa) 8 in every month been hospitably entertained at the house of her hus-

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

332 ~ Biography of Mrs, Martha Edwards of Frodsham.

band. Those of them who read this brief account will remember with
kindling feeliags her cheerfulness of manner, her delicate regard for their
comfort, and some of them will remember how she succoured them whea
indisposed in body, or spent with the labours of the day, and how she
*• refreshed their bowels in the Lord,'* — and all of them will remember how
scrupulously exact she was in having the preacher's bed well aired. Having
heard of preachers who had lost their health, and some of them their lives,
in consequence of being put unthinkingfy into not well-aired beds, she
always took care to have a large bottle of hot water placed in the bed three
or four days before the arrival of the preacher.

For many years she suffered greatly from spasms, which at times threw
her into the most dreadful agonies. Of late years she suffered much from
an affection of the liver ; in short she was seldom well for long, for nearly
twenty years. She was thus prevented from attending her class as often as
she wished, for the night air was exceedingly injurious to her ; but though
absent in body from the public or private means, she never forgot the col-
lection, nor the necessities of the quarter-day. Her charities had a wide
embrace, and included especially the sick, the widow, and the fatherless.
" Oh !" said one poor widow, ** the death of Mrs. Edwards affects me more
than the death of my own mother did." " Ah !" said another to a lady at a
distance from Frodsham, " Mrs. Edwards has not left her fellow behind, for
true kindness of heart, in the town." We cannot, we do not pretend to go
so far, but this we can say, that she had a large and benevolent heart, and
it was in the right place, and uttered no empty response when appealed to.
The range of her beneficent acts is, to a great extent, unknown. Some of
them are gone before,' others are following after ; but a future day will
reveal the whole. Her kindness was exercised, not with the parade of the
Pharisaic trumpet, but in the most quiet and unostentatious manner — like the
" Man of Ross,"—

" She did good bv stealth
And blushed to find it fame."

Let it not for a single moment be supposed that we wish to paint her as an
angel. There are no angels in this lower world. Human nature may be
sanctified by Divine grace, and raised to a highly exalted state even in this
world, but still it is far from angelic perfection. Angelic excellence is to be
seen and realized by us in the glorious future, when high in the realms of
light and bliss, we shall be '* equal unto the angels," and

" Sing with all the saints God's love hath made,|
His everlasting praise."

Unquestionably, she, like all Adam's sons and daughters, had her imperfec-
tions, but they were rendered small by the blaze of her many excellences.
The principles on which she acted in her household matters, are worthy of
being chronicled for the guidance and imitation of those who are badding
into womanhood, and which will if followed, conduce to make them the joy
and glory of their future husbands, and a blessing to their households.
Plenty, but no waste ; carefulness, but no parsimony ; order, but no un-
meaning formality or idle routine ; industry, but no slavery ; deep maternal
feeling, but no foolish indulgence.

In 1847, she sustained a heavy blow in the death of her eldest son, a fine
boy of great mental capacity, and who became gradually paralyzed, from
head to foot, in consequence of a fall from a swing. Human nature pnt
grace and reason in abeyance for some time, on this occasion ; she was over-
whelmed with grief; and his death gave her physical and mental nature a
shock from which she never fully recovered.

We now come to view her in the closing scenes of life. She had no^

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mrs, Martha Edwards^ of Frodsham, 333

arrived at a time in her voyage over the ocean of life, when she had to
doable one of the capes of female existence, hut owing to previous wear and
tear of constitution, she lacked ahility to wear off from a lee shore, and her
earthen vessel was wrecked on the rocky shores of death. In the beginning
of 1856 she was seized with an attack of bronchitis, which probably was
onlj symptomatic of what lay at the very foundation of her constitution.
To obtain relief from this most distressing complaint, the best medical aid
vas resorted to, and she had also the benefit of change of air. The com-
plaint alternated much until the fall of the year, when the waste of the
system set in with irresistible force, and defied every remedial agent. During
this time she, in opposition to the opinion of some of her friends, seemed
perfectly convinced that death had put the hroad arrow upon her, and that
she was doomed, ere long, to walk through death's dark glen. Her mind
seemed to be preparing for the great change, her graces ripening, and she
expressed the most unbounded confidence in her God.

About January of the present year, the consumptive symptoms became
more formidably developed, and her frame rapidly wasted away. And now
that she was being hugged by the grisly arms of death, it was interesting
to know how she felt in the terrible struggle. Her cheerfulness and resig-
nation never forsook her except on one occasion. Looking tenderly at her five
interesting children — the eldest seventeen, the youngest eight years old —
she said, ** Now that they are getting up and I should have some comfort of
them, I must le.ave them." The tear filled her eye, and emotion choked her
utterance, but it was only for a moment, and she soon became placid and
resigned as before. How many dying mothers have said the same ! It is a
natural outburst of human nature, and provokes not our censure, but
claims our deepest sympathy. It is not always that wives profit under the
public ministrations of their husbands. We stop not to inquire the cause.
In this respect the late Mrs. Edwards was an exception. Her husband was
her family chaplain ; she preferred his preaching and praying to that of any
other human being, and was not satisfied unless he prayed with her during
her illness, two or three times a day sometimes playfully, saying, ** Come,
my love, you have not done duty this morning." When ne and other
friends as well, were praying with her, she was at times filled with holy
rapture, and loudly gave vent to her feelings of hope and joy. All who
visited her felt it to be a pleasure to do so. The chamber of death was
divested of its sombre hue, and peace and joy dwelt there. " Light is sown
for the righteous.*' There was no querulousness, nor despondency, but on
the contrary cheerfulness and resignation ever apparent in her. " It is
quite a pleasure," said her medical attendant, a gentleman belonging to the
Establishment, " to come to see Mrs. Edwards, she is so tranquil and happy,
and calmly asks, ' Doctor, how long have I to live ?' — it is so different to
vhat I usually meet with. The maiority of those I attend catch at a straw
—they cannot bear to think of death."

The.greatest darkness is before the break of day j the most terrific struggle
before the victory is finally won. Such is the rule. Many of God's chil-
dren are sorely tempted until their feet touch death's cold waters. But
there are many exceptions to this rule, and Mrs. Edwards was one. Only
on one occasion was she troubled with doubt. She then said to her husband,
" I am afraid, I am not right, or Satan would tempt me more," — and she
referred in particular to one good man who, a few years ago was awfully
tempted, almost to the close of life. On being told that God knew her
weak state and her inability to sustain much, and that he had promised his
people not to suffer them to be tempted above that they are able to bear — she
'Was reassured, and during the whole of her affliction she experienced how
Isindly God deals with his feeble ones, " tempering the wind to the shorn
lamb," for the great Enemy was not allowed to harass or distress her miad.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

334 Biography of Mrs. Martha Edwards, of Frodsham.

Truly, God knows whereof we are made ; " he remembers that we are
^ust." Let the feeble Christian take courage.

It often occurs that persons, who leave young children behind, feel
the pressure of them upon their hearts in the last moments, and to a great
extent have their joys damped, in consequence. Mrs. Edwards had felt
that pressure. It was nature. Knowing that the giving up must take
place, she, a month before her dissolution, said to her husband, "James, [
feel I am going, and I have given you and the children up." This, no doubt,
cost her a severe effort, for she had a tender affection for her husband and
children, but feeling that it must be done, she at once made the relinquish-
ment, and committed them to the Lord, and from that time manifested no
anxiety about her children.

Some persons face death with a rush — others with uncalculating animal
stupidity, and others with awful dread. Who but the Christian truly alive
to God, can go step by step to the " house appointed for all living," and
calmly contemplate death and its momentous consequences ? Mrs. Edwards
possessed and exemplified all the calmness of the most elevated Christian
philosopher at the approach of death. She heard the surging billows of
death's cold flood beating about her, but she was unmoved. Death was
vanquished before she died. She made almost every arrangement respecting
her funeral, — who was to make her coffin,— in what room of the house she
was to be laid out, — and who were to carry her remains to the grave.

On Sunday, May 3rd, she was taken much worse, and on her husband
going to her bedside she said, "O dear! what ails me?** This seemed to
intimate that she was the subject of that inexplicable feeling resulting from
the reflux of the tide of life. This feeling is referred to by the immortal
Pope in this inimitable hymn, the " Vital Spark."

** What is this absorbs me quite ;
Steals my senses, shuts my sight;
Drowns my spirit, draws my breath ;
Tell me, my soul, can this be death ?"

All that day she seemed like a bird on the flutter, ready to wing her way to
distant regions where her soul would be at rest. Contrary to expectation
she was spared to live, exactly another week. For about two days preceding
the 8th ult., she had lain quite still. Her restlessness seemed to have left
her,— her physical powers seemed to be completely exhausted, and sheoonld
scarcely utter the faintest whisper. Precisely at midnight of that day,
she awoke as from a trance, — her bodily powers seemed recruited,— bcr
intellect flashed with light, and she seemed to be encircled with heaven's
glory. She was one of those who have music in the soul but none in the
throat ; hence she never attempted to sing. But on this occaaion the throat
became the organ of the soul, and she loudly sang—

" Glory, honour, and salvation,
Christ the Lord, is come to reign."

" O Jane," said she, addressing her sister. Miss Williams, of Norley, who
had most affectionately been with her at her particular request, uight and
day for about ten weeks, — " 0» Jane, I shall soon be in heaven 8iDg:ing
Jehovah's praises ! I have had," she continued, " the most glorious revela-
tions. I have seen my father," — (who died in the Lord in 1851)— "and he
was so beautifully dressed, and I have heard the most delightful music, and
I wished to accompany it, but I suppose I was not quite ready." And thus
she continued for a good part of the night blessing and praising her Lord
and Saviour. On the following day, Saturday the 9th, her brother, Mr.F.
Williams, of Northwich, came to see her, and on his expressing howd^
lighted he was to see her in so happy a frame of mind, — ** Yes," she said,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Correspondence, 335

" Francis, my regret is that I have not used the advantages and privileges I
have been Uessed with as I ought to have done, but I know in whom I
have believed; — I am going to heaven— there is no mistake about it. Once
I had a great dread of death, but God has taken it all away, and I have no
more fear of death than of going into the next room.*' In this blessed and
rapturous state she remained as long as she continued in the body. Early
on Sunday morning, May 10th, she was taken much worse, and on her
beloved husband going to her bedside he found her perfectly conscious, but
the power of speech wan gone. Among other things he said, " My love,
' Christ is precious to those who believe ;' you are going to heaven." Upon
which, looking upward, she raised her long thiu arm aloft, and waving it in
token of victory, closed her eyes; — after a short pause she opened them once
more to take a last fond look of the husband whom she loved, and then closed
them until the latter day, when, '* in her flesh she shall see God ;" and in a
short time, without a struggle or a groan, her soul ^^ triumphing gloriously
in her Redeemer," *' passed through death triumphant home."

That his last end may be as peaceful, as happy, and as rapturous, prays
one who knew the departed better than any other person.

CORRESPONDENCE.

LETTER ON THE AMALGAMATION.

To the Editor, — Dear Sir,

I forward to you a copy of a Circular Letter, which has been sent
with the Keport of the United Committees, which appeared in your last
number. Perhaps it would gratify many of the readers of the Magazine
if you were to give it insertion. I regret that in the said Report the names
of the Revs. H. Breeden and T. Hacking, have been inadvertently omitted.
As they attended the Meetings of the United Committees their names
ought to have been inserted in our Report. Yours truly,

June Vlth, 1857. Robert Eckett.

To the Officers and other Members of the Methodist Reform Societies.

Dear Brethren,

We have now the gratification of being able to report to you the ar-
rangements that have been made for Amalgamating the Methodist Reform
Churches with the Wesley an Methodist Association Churches ; and wo
trust that you will cordially approve of them. You are aware, that
the general principles on which it was agreed, by two successive Delegate
Meetings of the Reformers, and two succeeding Annual Assemblies of the
Association, that the amalgamation should be effected, are contained in the
document entitled " The Basis of Union"— copies of which were forwarded
to yon for your consideration, previous to their adoption. At the Delegate
Meeting of the Reformers, held in August, 1856, and at the last Annual As-
Berablyof the Association, Special Committees were appointed, having autho-
rity to make such other arrangements (not being inconsistent with " The
Basis of Union *') as might be deemed requisite to complete the proposed
Amalgamation. These Committees, in accordance with the directions
under which they were appointed, after much deliberation, and the adop-
tion of the requisite preliminary resolutions, which are contained in the
accompanying Report, have unanimously declared the Amalgamation
effected; and it is confidently expected, that those of the Reform Churches
that forwarded to the Reform Committee their approval— on the terms of
"The Basis of Union," — of the proposed amalgamation, will rejoice, that

Digitized by VjOOQIC

336 Correspondence,

the proceedings of the CommitteeB, before referred to, have thus been pro-
ductive of 80 happy a result. There is also reason to hope that most of
the other Keform Churches, which have not yet decided to become iden-
tified with the United Churches of tbe Keformers and of the Association,
will, upon a careful consideration of the Report sent herewith, approve of
the arrangements that have been made for unitinof the said Churches on
the liberal and scriptural terms that have been adopted, and see it to be
both their duty and privilege to offer to become united with the Churches
that have already become amalgamated. We hardly deem it needful to
remind you, that the terms of Union, which have been adopted, fully secure
the scriptural independence of the Churches, provide for the manifestatioa
of acknowledged Christian brotherhood, and uniting in Christian enter-
prises for promoting the spread and triumph of the Gospel of Christ.

We especially beg now to remind you, that such of the Reform Circoits
as approve of the terms on which the Amalgamafion has been effected— as
contained in the accompanying document— will have authority to appoint
Representatives to attend the Annual Assembly — to be held in Biillie
Street Chapel, Rochdale — the sittings of which will commence at nine
o'clock in the forenoon of the last Wednesday in the month of next July.

In order that arrangements may be made for the accommodation of the
representatives, while attending the Annual Assembly, it is very important
to ascertain, as early as possible, the number for which it will be needfnl to
provide board and lodging. The rule, regulating the number of representa-
tives to be sent, specifies, that Circuits not having more than 500 members,
may send one representative ; Circuits having above 500 members, and
not exceeding 1000 members, may send two representatives; and Gircaits
having more than 1000 members, may send three representatives.

We beg also to inform you that the United Committees, on whose behalf
we address you, have authority, in doubtful cases, to determine the number
of representatives that may be sent ; and we shall be happy to reply to any
enquiry on this subject.

You will perceive, that, according to the 14th article of " The Basis of
Union," "each Circuit, or Church belonging to the Connexion, will be
expected to make public Annual Collections, in all its places of worship, for
the support of the Connexional Home and Foreign Missions. And that
Circuits or Churches not making the Collections last named, will be disen-
titled to send representatives to the Annual Assembly." We fear, that, as
the Connexional year is now so far advanced, in some Circuits it will be im-
practicable, previously to the next Annual Assembly, to make Missionary
Collections in all the places of worship ; but that will not for this year
be regarded as disqualifying to appoint representatives. It is, however,
onlj reasonable to expect that the Circuits, intending to send represen-
tatives, will now, or as early as possible, arrange for making such Col-
lections in all their places of worship ; and that (if they cannot be made in
all the places before the representatives assemble,) they shall be previously
made in as many places, as circumstances will permit, and in the other
places as early as suitable airangements can be made for the purpose. The
importance of supporting Connexional Missionary operations, will, it is
believed, commend itself to your best sympathies.

It is particularly requested that you will inform us, on or before the 30th
day of June next, whether your Circuit, as an amalgamating Circuit, will
send a representative, or representatives to the next Annual Assembly;
that you will also state how many representatives it purposes to send ; and
what is its present number of Church members ; distinguishing the number
of those who are in full-membership from those who are on probation;
as the latter will not be included in the number of members to which the
aforesaid regulation applies. It is very important that care should be exer-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Correspondence, 337

eised in ascertaining correctly the present number of fiill members ; for oa
many accounts it would be cause of much renret, if it should afterwards
appear that an excessive number of members had been returned, and tibat
the correction of such error had occasioned an apparent and discouraging
decrease ; which might be the case, even when there had been an aotofd
increase.

Praying that you may be guided b^ the wisdom that oometh from above^
and in all things richly have the Divine benediction,

We are, dear Brethren, yours truly,

ROBERT ECKETT,
T. H. RICHARD,
Secretaries to the United Committees^
8, Exeter HaU, 22nd May, 1867.

LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.

Sir^As I think we should be very careful how we allow innovation to
creep into our public service, I would just point out to you an instance of
this kind in which one of our preachers set the example, and I observe it
has been fisllowed by two others at least. I allude to tne passage in the
Lord's prayer '' Lead us not into temptation,*' instead of which we have
"Leave us not in temptation." — I cannot for my own part see the
least occasion for this departure firom the exact phraseology of our
Divine Master. The grammatical meaning of the words is to my mind
simply this, ** suffer or permit us not to be led into temptation," which view
is confirmed by the learned Dr. Adam Clarke, who observes upon this
passage, ^'This is a mere Hebraism. God is said to do a thinff which he
only permits or suffers to be done." I have just met with this remark
by a writer upon the subject, which appears very pertinent, ** This petition
at first sight may appear somewhat strange, and some have presumed to
mend our Lord's words, as if he did know how to speak witn propriety.
Instead therefore of saying lead us not — ^they say leave us not— out there
is no necessity for this ; our Lord's words need no apology, ' never man
spoke like Him.' '*

Such liberties as these once taken in the pulpit with this inimitable
prayer in one passage, may lead to similar changes in other parts, and thus
by degrees evils will creep into our churches, which will not be easily
eradicated. I think we cannot do better in this as in ail cases than to keep
to the law and to the testimony. I am sir, yours truly,

A Ubabee.

THE IMPOLICY OF MONDAY NIGHT PREACHINa.

It has often been said everything is beautiful in its season, so says com-
mon sense, reason, and religion. It would be difficult to prove that Monday
night preaching was so, except under extraordinary circumstances, inas-
iBuch, as in ordinary times, neither preachers nor people are either fitted
or disposed to attend on Mondays, as they are either on Tuesdays, Wednes-
^ys, or Thursdays, which are unquestionably the three best nights in the
week for preaching services. Many arguments might be stat^ to skew
that Mond^ night i»*eaching is unwise, out three may sufiioe.

First. Monday is the day for planning and commencing the business
efibrts of the week, and it will be generally found that tiie minds and
hearts (even of Christians^ are so filled and taken up with temporal duties^
that if conscience impel tnem to go to preaching, rather than hurt tihe
feelmgs of a minister, they do not get near as much good, as they would
do, on any of the other above named nights, because they would be much
niore free from worldly cares, havine on Monday set their business machi-
nery in motion. It is well known abo, that most of the best managing of

2 A

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

338 Review and Criticism,

the working mec^s wives, take Monday as washing day, and bare often de-
clared to the writer, " that they always got cold, if they went to preaching
after the steaming of the wash-tub, but it was a great loss to theur souls to
miss preaching, and they would gladly attend on a more suitable night"

Second. Then again, those who have heard two or three sermons on
Sunday, or have been toiling in the Sabbath-school, need at least, one day
to digest the spiritual food they received on the Sabbath, before they eat
another spiritual meal, and it is to be feared, that the saying of an old
Scotch Minister concerning the Methodists is too true, "1 think you
Methodists have very little time to chew the cud, you have so many public
sei'vices ; I am a&aid much of your spiritual food is lost, for want of
sufficient meditation on what ye have heard." It is a well known violation
of physiological law to eat a second meal before the stomach has used up
the first, but how often it must happen, with Monday night preaching, that
the sermon goes (if it can get) into the soul, before the food of Sabbath
sermons have been digested, overloading the mind, which is an eril, and
much of the sermons is as good as lost to the souL

Third. Most ministers after the labours of Sabbath, by which their
minds are jaded, and bodies wearied, are not in a fit state to preach on
Monday nights, while a prayer-meeting would be mentally a relaxation,
and cheer and comfort them.

If they do preach it is generally a very tame affair, and both people
and preachers are glad when they are done. A minister once said,
that " Monday night preaching was a destroyer of preachers, inasmuch as it
involved working when both body and mind required rest." Doubtless
this witness is, to some extent true, especially as regards those ministers
who lay out most of their strength on Sunday, and do not generally rally
till Tuesday or Wednesday. To such men Monday night preaching is like
knocking a man down, just as he has got to his knees getting up again,
which is hardly fair-play. Christians ought to allow the work of minis-
ters to be more seasonable, rational, and useful, because more profitable to
the people and less injurious to preachers.

In conclusion, I beg to say, that, I have written the above, with the
best feelings and wishes of my heart, both to people, officers, and Ministers,
and if but as much good is done by it, as was done in Glossop and Newton
societies, in the Glossop and Stalybridge Circuit, I shall be amply
rewarded. No sooner was the impolicy of Monday night preaching laid
before the officers of the Glossop and Newton societies, as above, than
they at once changed the preaching to Wednesday, and they found it
answered far better than Monday, both for people and preacher. The
congregations were better, and the preacher went to his work with
renewed vigour of body and mind, not afraid of laying out a little strength,
and the people got more good than they could under a feebly delivered
and drawling discourse.

Blackburn, April IZth, 1867. J. Thompson.

REVIEW AND CRITICISM.

Mr, Spurgeon's Critics Criticised. By a Churchman. London :
W, H. CoLLiNRiDGE, City Press, Long-lane.

The subject of this Pamphlet has acquired among his ardent ad-
mirers the fame of being an orator of the first order. That he is a
Stentorian speaker — that he is an earnest speaker — ^that he is a finent
speaker — that he is even an attractive speaker, we readily admit, but

Digitized by VjOOQIC

lieview and Criticism, 33d

that he is entitled to be regarded as an Orator in the best and highest
sense of the word, we utterly deny. It is the faculty of an Orator to
kindle the same emotions in the bosoms of his hearers which glow in
his own ; — to take hold of their sympathies like a spell, and almost to
rule them at will. The impulses communicated by the highest order of
eloquence lead directly to action. The hearer is plunged immediately
into the midst of things, and so occupied with the subject matter
of discourse as to have no time to think of or to admire the great
master of speech, who acts upon the intelligent masses by whom he
is surrounded, as some mighty Galvanic Battery, — hearing and com-
mon sympathies forming the links of connection between him and
them. Eloquence is more than mere rhetoric, whose shafts glance
off the skin of Leviathan without lasting impression. Inspired with
the matter of Passion, it hurls its shafts to the very heart of its object.
In its noblest specimens, there is a close affinity between the speaker's
thoughts and the subject-matter of discourse. It is bold and even
adventurous in its flights, and its powerful pinions sustain it through-
out. It combines grandeur of conception with a wide range of vision.
It utters its denunciations against the Wrong-doer with vehemence.
It subordinates all the powers of the mind, — Reason — Imagination
— Memory — Conscience and the Affections, to the promotion of
its ohject. It hurls the thunder, it wields the lightning of genius,
and carries its appeals to the heart with impassioned earnestness.
Perhaps Robert Hall more perfectly exemplified these views of the
highest order of eloquence, than any other minister in modern times,
next to him Chalmers, and at some distance Irving, who, for a brief
period, was a much greater object of attraction than either. Since
the sun of Edward Irving set in a troubled sky, both England and
Scotland have produced many greater men than this erratic genius,
who was at once the idol of the Metropolis and the Wonder of the
rural districts, but none who, as Pulpit Orators, have commanded so
largely the admiration of the public. The Rev. Charles Spurgeon
certainly more closely approaches Irving in the measure of his popu-
larity, than any other minister has done since that lamented indi-
vidual's decease ; but in judging from the accounts which have been
handed down from the last generation to the present, he is as far below
the measure of Irving in the higher qualities of eloquence, as that great
man was inferior to his distinguished contemporaries. Hall and Chalmers.
It is, in fact, vastly more difficult to account for his great popularity
with a large class of the London public than for Irving's. Irving,
in addition to one of the finest voices for public speaking that any
man has had since the days of Whitfield, had a commanding presence.
Of unusual size and stature and a person naturally adapted to the most
graceful action ; with *' sable locks — iron-grey countenance and firm
Bet features, which converted the raw Scotchman into the likeness of
a noble Italian picture," — Irving, even, in the presence of members of
the Royal family of England, looked like one born to be the King of
men. Mr. Spurgeon has a good voice for being heard. It is clear
and powerful, but not more so than the voice of Newton, Flesher,
Raffles, and several other great speakers whom we have heard, and it
is inferior to the voice of any of these in the music of its intonations.

^gfeef by Google

840 Review and Critieiint.

Mr. Spurgeon's countenance has very little power of expresaon. His
features are not lit up by much of sentiment His eye is large and
full indeed, but such a one» we fancy, as the Poet was thinking of,
when he said; —

** There is no speculation in his eye."
Now these may seem little things, but popular men have sometimes
owed much to such little things. Mr. Ipiring^s imposing figure and
dignified manner, we are tol^ enabled him to hazard sentiments
and assertions that would have been fatal to others. His controvert
sial daring was backed by his bodily prowess, and by bringing his
intellectual pretensions boldly into a line with his physical accomplish*
ments, he presented a very formidable front indeed to the sceptic or
scoffer. '^ Take a cubit fi^om his stature," says a cotemporary Critic,
^<and his whole manner resolves itself into an impertinence. But
with that addition he overcrows the town, browbeats their prejudices,
and bullies them out of their senses, and is not afraid of being con-
tradicted by any one less than himself." Mr. Spurgeon has done
a good deal in this way, and with impunity too, but his success is
due to some other cause than the power of his presence or the £isci-
nation of his manner. In some other particulars we may trace a faint re- ;
semblance between these celebrated men. Mr. Spurgeon, like Irving, j
is somewhat of a Polemic. He treats all kinds of subjects, — Fate, Fore- |
knowledge, and Free-will. He essays to reason on these points. He
has a certain ad captandum method of dealing with the matters in i
question, but he evinces no faculty for close and well*sustained argumen- j
tation. He attempts to make breaches in the citadel of the foe without ■
any ^'battering train of Logic ;" — his Rhetoric, however, is called in to
supply the place of the severer art ; but between Mr. Spurgeon's as-
BAuita on the defences of an opponent and those of Mr. Irving, there •
is about the same difference as between the discharge of a piece d I
artillery crammed with small sand and one filled with grape-shot In |
some other respects the resemblance is more complete. He resenables '
Mr. Irving in his disposition to revive the worn-out notions of a cla^s -
of persons who existed a hundred years ago, on the five points in all
their ancient repulsiveness, under the pretence of proclaiming the
doctrines of grace. He resembles him, too, in denouncing all churches j
but his own, as so many decayed structures on which Corruption
more than Time has already fixed the tooth of Destruction.

Mr. Spurgeon's sermons abound in Rhetorical passages which will
ring very well, we dare say, on the Ears of many of his hearers, but
would be found to be light, indeed, if put into the scales of the Un-
derstanding. The following is not a bad sample.

^ My friends, did you ever walk the centuries, and mark the rise and
fall of various empires of unbelief? if so, jou will seem to be on a battle
field, and you see corpses ; vou ask the names of the dead, and some one
replies, that is the corpse of such a system, and that the carcase of such a
theory; and mark you, as surely as time rolls on, the now rampant style of
infidelity will perish, and in fifty years we shall see the skeleton of an
exploded scheme ; and of its admirers, the epitaph will be, Here lies a fool,
called of old a Secularist. Now what shall we say of Mormonism, the hag-
gai-d Buperstltion of the West ; or of Puseyism, the express imoge of

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Review and Criticism. 841

Fopeiy ; or of the Sodnian and Arian heresiea, of Arminian Pervernonsi
or of Antinomian abase ? What shall we say of each, but that their
death-knell shall soon toll, and these children of Hell shall sink back to
their birthplace in the pit.** — Pa^e 56, of Sermon on the Saint's Heritage
and Watchword, in the * Pulpit Library.'

Now, it is has never, that we are aware, fallen to our lot to cite a
passage from any man of any note whatever, in which, so many high
sounding words, and figurative allusions have been employed to
express so little. In short, if it were not for the ridiculous and
absurd allusion to Arminian notions, under the metaphor of
" children" — Childbbn op Hell, that shall sink back to their birth«^
PLACE IN THE PIT, WO should havc been content to pass it over as a
grand specimen of that kind of speaking, in which volumes of high-
sounding Words are employed and yet nothing is communicated. But
the combined presumption and uncharitableness that could so describe
the origin and destiny of the belief of the majority of religionists in
this country, demands a remark or two. The passage is quite a phe-
nomenon. It may be a curious exercise for the inductive faculties
of our readers, to determine by w^hat process a young man of one
or two and twenty, should, in the middle of the nineteenth century,
and in a Metropolitan Pulpit, in the presence of four or Bve thousand*
persons, perpetrate such an outrage on all decency, as such an utter-»
ance implies. It is certain, that it never could have escaped the lips
of a person much fettered with youthful modesty, or who paid the
ordinary amount of deference to the intelligence of his hearers. But
let it not be supposed that Mr. Spurgeon always enacts the Oracle,
and speaks as if it were an impertinence in any one to call his opi-
nions in question. Sometimes he is t^npretensive to a fault. We re*
member at least, one instance in which he spoke of himself in very
humble terms indeed.

''Grace^" says he, ** is not spoiled by the hollow wooden spout it mns
through. God did onoe speak oy an Ass to Balaam, but that did not spoil
his words. So he noto speaks, not simply by an Ass which he often does^
but by something worse than that."

This certainly is a set-off against the presumption indicated in the
former passage. But it would be impossible, we think, to account for
a really honest man having uttered both in the course of a few weeks,
possibly a few days, without supposing that he pre-mecUtates but little,
and reflects less. Mr. Spurgeon's brilliancy of Fancy has been a fre-
quent theme of Eulogy with his ardent admirers. Our readers will
not however imagine that he is always giving the reins to Fancy,
without any curb of Discretion to check its course. It is true, that in
his £ftvourite pieces, images of all kinds are heaped together, like atoms
on a sand-bank, and that words, used as the playthings of his
£uicy, form the most grotesque combinations in his more laboured
passages. But his hearers are sometimes privileged to listen to a
different style of address, in which the flights are less ambitious.
This was to be expected, for it is, we are told, the prerogative of
genius to be simple. Mr. S. sometimes exercises this prerogative to

- * We are quite sare that the place in Surrey Gardens will not teat more than 6000 .
penona, at the utmost.— EditO a.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

342 Review and Criticism.

admiration. Take as an example his Sermon on " I am become
as a bottle in the smoke."

" Now a bottle when it is in the smoke, gets very black ; so does the
Christian when he is in the smoke of trial, or in the smoke of the Oospd
ministry f or the smoke of persecntion, ^et very black in his own esteem.
It is maryellous how bright we are when everything goes right with as ;
bat it is equally marvellous how black we get when a little tribulation
comes upon us. We think very well of ourselves while there is no
smoke : but let the smoke come, and it just reveals the blackness of
our hearts. Trials teach us what we are ; they dig up the soil, and let us
see what we are made of; they just turn up some ot the ill weeds on the
surface ; they are good for this reason, they make us know our blackneas.
A bottle, too, that bangs up in the smoke, will become very useless. So do
we often when we are under a trying ministry, or a trying providence, /eel
that we are very useless, good for nothing, like a bottle that has been hung
up in the smoke, that nobody will drink out of any more, because it will
smoke everything that is put in it. We feel that we are of no use to any-
body—that we are poor unprofitable creatures. In our joys we are
honourable creatures ; we scarcely think the Creator could do without vu ;
but when we are in trouble we feel, * I am a worm and no man' — good for
nothing ; let m6 die ; I have become useless, as well as black, ' like a
bottle in the smoke.*

And then a bottle in the smoke is an empty bottle. It would not have
been hung up in the smoke, unless it had been empty. And very often
under trials now empty we become ! we are full enough in our joys ; bat
the smoke and heat soon dry every atom of moisture out of us ; all oar
hope is gone, all our strength is departed, we then feel that we are empty
sinners, and want a full Christ to save us. We are like bottles in smoke.'

Now some of our readers will say, that here again verbiage is in
an inverse ratio to thought ; that if the whole passage were stripped
of the little adornments which the Fancy of the Speaker has thrown
around it to conceal its nakedness, nothing would remain but a life-
less skeleton, or bodiless phantom. Well, be this as it may, Mr.
Spurgeon's execution in this passage more nearly approaches what
he attempts, than in many others. The passage may be somewhat
smoky, like the subject, and the sounds you hear may proceed from
very little fishes indeed; but he does not herCy as in some other
places, make his " little fishes talk like ^rea^ whales." This is, at least,
a negative excellence. It may not be quite agreeable to observe
an individual going on, in the full career of his subject, without
advancing a jot nearer his object ; but then he does not tantalize
you by keeping alive the promise and the expectation of genius,
without once satisfying it — soaring into mediocrity with adventurous
enthusiasm — "writhing," as an eminent critic once caustically ob-
served of the Marquis of Wellesley, " with agony under a truism,
and launching a commonplace with all the fury of a thunderbolt."

Mr. Spurgeon's vocabulary abounds in simple and forcible words,
but he wants the power of condensation. His purpose is good, but he
often allows himself to be ignominiously drawn aside by Sectarian
bias. His acquaintance with our good old Puritan divines, far exceeds
that of most young men of his years, and he often tries to translate
their noble sentiments into modern English, but instead of transh'

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Review and Criticism, 343

Hng, he is apt to burj them beneath mountain-masses of verbiage.
He dresses them up in a profusion of "metaphors," but those manly
sentiments are only encumbered by his tropes and figures, brought
together as thickly as lie the "leaves in Vallombrosa, where the
Etrurian shades, high over-arched, imbower." He has great facility
of production, but gives small indication of that unremitting and
pains-taking application which is indispensable to excellence of the
highest order in every department of study. Two greater contrasts
could not be found than the facile Spurgeon and the fastidious but
elegant Robert Hall. Want of space admonishes us that we must not
proceed further with this Critique in the present number. We hope,
however, to be able ere long to resume the subject in a future num-
ber, and to trace out those qualities of Mr. Spurgeon's mind, and
peculiarities of his manner, to which he is mainly indebted for the
eminence he occupies in the public esteem.

Man in Earnest^ exemplified in the Life and Labours of the Rby,
F. W. Whrelbb. By Robert Ferguson, D.D., L.L.D. London :
Longman, Brown, and Co.

The subject of this volume was a Missionary in Jamaica. He was
sent out by the London Missionary Society, and at the time of his
death occupied the Station of that Society in the City of Kingston.
We knew many devoted men in that distant Isle, but probably no man
equal in this respect to our deceased friend, — the late F. W. Wheeler.
The account of his life and labours is full of interest. We cordially
recommend it to the attention of our readers.

Shirley Hibherd^s Garden Favourites and Exhibition Flowers.
London: Groombbidge and Sons, 5, Paternoster-row. Price Six-
pence.

This number treats on the Geranium, its history, properties, culti-
vation, propagation, and general management in all seasons. It con-
tains a number of very excellent illustrations, and cannot fail to be
deeply interesting to individuals who have a taste for the floral beau-
ties which, with many, form the principal attractions of the Garden.

The Christian Cabinet. (No. XCVI.) London : Partridge and
Co.

This is a number of a Weekly Newspaper designed to edify the
Churches. In addition to reporting the leading events of the day as
matters of current intelligence, it usually supplements its reportby
observations on passing occurrences, as viewed from the Christian
stand-point. This publication has our best wishes.

The Library of Biblical Literature. London : Freeman, Fleet-
street.

Another volume of one of the most interesting and popular works
ever issued in the department of Biblical Literature. We give it high
commendation when we state, that the present volume fully sustains
the high character which the former volumes had won for this most
valuable work.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

844 The Casket.

The EleeirO' Chemical Bath, by Mom. J. Capiin, M.D. London:
FbeemaN) 9, Fleet-Btreet.

This is a second Edition of a work under the aboire name, wbieh
we notieed a few months ago. The author has elaborated his views
more fully in this than he did in the first edition. If the Electro-
chemical Bath be of half the value in the treatment of Disease,
elaimed for it by Dr. Caplin, it is a most important agent in the
healing Art The whole question, we think, merits tlie attention of
the public.

THE CASKET.

WHOeoSYBK WILL.

Da. Malan, of Geneva, and Mr Carlisle, had a little converBaiion on tlie
subject of assurance, I am told. He said he knew he was saved, jastified,
loved. He was a poor miserable sinner, and God*8 Word made no stipnl*-
tion, but said freely, tchoeoever will, ** Now," said he, " my name is * who-
soever/ If I am starving, and the king puts bread in the highway, and says.
* Whosoever will, let him eat,* I am not to be hesitating because I do not
see my name in the proclamation ; I am hungry I want bread, and I take
it, because it is given to whosoever will.** — JF^om Krause*s Correspondence.

PierRARCH ON PHILOBOFHT AND VAITH.

In the 14th century, we find this great poet expressing these fine senti-
Inents in a Latin letter to his friend, John Colonna —

''I do not love sects, but the truth. Sometimes, therefore, I am a
Peripatetic, sometimes a Stoic, at other times an Academician, but often
none of these, whenever I find any thinff in them which is suspicious and
opposed to the true and blessed fiiith : mr we may love and approve the
systems of philosophers, if they are consistent with the truth, and do not
turn us away from our chief end ; but should any one attemi>t this, be it
Plato, Aristotle, or Yarro, or Cicero, they must with unhesitating finoneei
be all despised and trampled under foot. We are not to be moved by any
acuteness of reasoning, smoothness of language, or authority of names.
They were men learned, in so far as human research and knowledge went,
distinguished by eloquence and gifted with natural talent, vet to be pitied,
because destitute of the supreme and inestimable good ; and as they trusted
in their own powers, and aid not seek the true light, like blind men they
often stumbled and fell. Let us, therefore, admire their talents in such a
manner as to honour the Giver of talent ; let us pity their errors, that we
may congratulate ourselves, and acknowledge that we, without any merit,
have been through grace honoured and preferred before our ancestors by
Him who condescended to reveal his mystery to babes, though he kept k
hid fi:t>m the wise. Finally, let us so philosophise that we may love
wisdom, for that is the meaning of philosophy ; but the true Wisdom of God
is Christ. In order to philosophise truly, he must first be loved and
honoured. Above all thmgs, let us be Christians. So let us read ^lilo^
sophy, and poetry, and history, that the gospel of Christ may ever be heard
by the ear of the heart ; by which alone we can be sufficiently learned and
happy ; without which, the more we learn, we shall only become the moiS
unlearned and miserable."

LAST WORDS OT OOKTHB.

A correspondent of the Christian Observer thus introduces a notice of
these moumfbl words :
** By a closed window in the city of Germany sat an old. man, grave and

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket i84$

dignified, and serene. Books were scattered around faim, and hts pen was
still in his fingers— ^hat pen which for more than fifty years he had wielded
with an almost superhuman power ; but now the hand that had held it
moves nervously in the air, and seems to be writin^^ vague and indistinct
shadows, where no substance was. The eye that had flashed like a meteor
or a sun is now darkened and obscured.

^ He had trod the steeps of learning, gathering many a laurel ; and,
treading the flowery paths of poetry, he plucked sweet flowers on heights
where mortals seldom tread. His mind, gigantic in its grasp, and far-
seeing in its penetrations, had piled up speculations high and majestic, and
separated the atoms of thought, which to others were elements. He had
captivated, enchained, charmed, dazzled, bewildered ; but now he was
treading the dark valley, and its gloomy shades began to thicken around
him ; no light streamed in from the eternal throne ; and his mind, wander-
ing amid the mazes of poetry and philosophy, could only cry out in anguish,
* Open the shutters ana let m more light !' And soon the ' silver cord was
loosed, and the golden bowl was broken, and the keepers could no longer
look out at the windows/ and thus crying out for more light his soul
departed."

What a picture of a gifbed man, endowed with a genius far beyond the
common order of even intellectual men ; successful in every department of
knowledge, even those so wide apart as poetry and optics ; loaded with
honours ; living to see his own fame acknowledged in all lands ; and dying
only when the ordinary term of human life had long been passed ; yet when
death did come, unable to articulate any confident hope or a single conso-
latory word, amid the overshadowing gloom ! Yet how could it be other-
wise ? The great man lived in sordid egotism. He was a God to himself.
This feeling ran through all his course. When therefore he died, what
was left to him but to utter that mournful cry -^ Open the shutters and let
in more light f The strong man wanted a helper when he began to go down
into the dark valley.

BUT THE DAY OF THE LOBD WILL COKE AB A THIEF IN THE Nl&HT.

In the field —

The sWain his plough forsakes, with carol gay,
And homeward o'er the lea pursues his way ;
While from the village, rustic groups are seen
Their blithesome sports enjoying on the green.
In cool seqnesterea shades, 'neath arching boughs,
Fond lovers meet, and breathe their mutual vows ;
Elated With glad hope their plans arrange,
Nor dream of judgment, nor of coming change.

And in the city —

The ancient temples, venerable^ grand.
And gorgeous palaces, in beauty stand.
The crowded streets display an eager train,
Toiling in business, pleasure, power, or gain,
While in the marts, where men are wont to meet
Each other as in days of old, they greet.
With salutation fraught with flattery gloss.
And now converse of profit and of loss,
Of peace and war, of politics and trade,
Of victories won, of fortunes lost or made.
The merchant at his desk awaits the time,
In study deep, when, from some distant clime
His vessel shall return with prosperous flight
Of untold wealth to sweU his rich estate.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

346 T%e Casket.

In oell retired expecting long to hold

Hia treasured hoard, the miser counts hia gold

The lawyer, on the ere of Time's last day,

Gravel^r prepares the covenants which convey

PossesHion evermore, long deeds, designed

To last for ages, the unborn to bind,

And leases meant through centuries to run,

With wordy intricacy, subtlely spim.

The student at his books still patient toils,

Drinks wisdom in, and gathers learning's spoils,

Indites the pleasing thought, the flowery rhyme,

Builds hopes of fame, and trusts to live through time.

The beauty to her toilet now departs.

Exhausts her skill, aud uses all her arts

To deck each charm, improve or add to grace^

The form to flatter, or adorn the faice ;

Each robe selects, and labours to enhance

Her beauty for the gay, exciting dance ;

Thinks of admirers won — fresh conquests made.

Of lovers new, and rivals cast in shade ;

Yet thinks not how to sain the Judge's love,

Or win the robes worn by the saints above.

A numerous throng, on worldly bliss intent.

Now haste the haunts of pleasure to frequent;

The theatre, the masquerade, the ball.

Or where the song, and mirth, and music call ;

Where wine invites, the abodes of vice and sin,

Thousands fearing no harm, rush madly in.

• • • ♦ The heavens above

No longer glow with hues of light and love,

Thick gathering clouds careering through the sky,

Collect their forces, or asunder fly ;

The sun glares frightfully with lurid light.

Then hides his beams, and threatens sudden night*

Unearthly darkness o'er the landscape spreads

And the black sky a dismal horror sheds,

And now the thunder breaks with dreadful roll

And vivid lightnings flash from pole to pole ;

Dark jagged clouds by fiery tempest driven

Dark on the mountain tops by lightnings riven»

Then burst with crash terrific, and around

From hill to hill the mighty echoes bound.

Each answering each in intonations dire,

While clouds and mountain tops are wreathed in fire»

ONB SOUL.

The craving after great results, signs, and wonders, and mighty workings,
with a corresponding disappointment at moderate success, and a contempt
for feeble beginnings, is well rebuked in the following incident, told of a
venerable minister of Christ —

When some one asked old Mr. S , " Why do you continue to preach

when you have converted but one sinner in twenty years 1 " " Have I
converted one ? " says he. ** Yes," replied the other. " Then,'* said the good
man, " here's for twenty years more ; I may convert two I '•

Surely that was the right spirit. If the conversion of one soul fills all
heaven with joy, it mav well occupy a minister's lifetime. Such a pric^
for such a result, is a cheap expenditure.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

34T

RELIGIOUS INTELLIGENCE,

BELFIELD. NEAR ROCHDALE.

Latino the Foundation Stone or a New Chapel. — On Saturday last, th«
foundation stone of a new Wesleyan Association Chapel was laid by John
Petrie, Esq. The weather was all that could be wished, and consequently
there was a very fair attendance. A small congregation has met for several
^ears in a room to which access was gained by an external flight of steps.
The scholars, however, now number 214, and it has, therefore, been deemed
necessary to make an effort to increase the accommodation, the result being
the event we have now to record. The new edifice will be of ornamental brick;
the internal measurement 13 yards by 11 ; the height of the walls, 13 feet ;
centre height, 21^ teet ; and will be lighted by 11 windows. At the rear there
will be a vestrj 5i yards square. The sole contractor is Mr. William Peters,
and the estimated cost 350/. At about four o'clock, the Rev. Mr. Sayer gave
out the hymn, commencing, ** Except the Lord, conduct the plan," &c., which
being sung, he offered up an appropriate prayer. — John Petrie, Esq., then
ascended to the top of the stone, and addressed the spectators. After referring
to the pleasing duty which he had undertaken, and the great importance and
value of Sabbath Schools, he remarked that the building, the erection of which
he was called upon to initiate, would scarcely accommodate double the number
which the old school-room could contain. He was doubtful whether they were
making the building large enough, but it was satisfactory to know that there
was plenty of land available for an enlargement when deemed necessary.
They might wish to know who the building would belong to when completed.
It would belong to no individual, but to the Society with which they were con-
nected, so long as the doctrines propounded by that society should be preached
there. He had no doubt of the future usefulness of the congregation which
would be assembled there, or that many of the young people whom he was
then addressing would have opportunity of learning to read the scriptures, and,
perhaps, on week-nights, of acquiring a secular education. There might be
some present who were anxious to know what doctrines would be preached,
which anxiety he would satisfy. Mr. Petrie here read from a book a declara-
tion of the tenets held by the Wesleyan Methodist Association, and concluded
by expressing the hope that the Belfield Association Congregation would remind
the trustees of their duty to take care that no other ductrines should be
preached in the Chapel, the first stone of which he was about to lay, in the
name of **The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."— Mr. Petrie then
descended, and was presented with a handsomely chased silver trowel with
ivory handle. The trowel was an emanation from the establishment of Messrs.
Olivant and Boyd, of Manchester, and bore the following inscription, tastefully
engraved — '* Presented to John Petrie, Esq., on the occasion of bis laying the
foundation stone of the Wesleyan Methodist Association Chapel, Belfield.
May 16, 1857." With the trowel was also presented a rosewood mallet. The
stone having been formally laid, the hymn commencing, ** This stone to thee,
in faith we lay,'* was sung. — The Rev. J. Mather then delivered an address.
He remarked that they had heard what doctrines would be proclaimed in that
house of prayer. There would be a recognition of the one great truth that
He who had created the world was the rightful object of religious worship.
The practice, founded on this recognition, of publicly assembling for worship,
had become a characteristic of England, and to it might be attributed the fact
that while a few years ago the continent was convulsed, England was quiet and
peaceable. He reminded his hearers that it was more honourable to that place
to raise an edifice in which youth would be converted than that the great of
the earth should visit them, and they should raise a tower in remembrance of
that visit. At the conclusion of the reverend gentleman's remarks, another
hymn was sung, and Mr. Schofield terminated the out-door proceedings with
prayer. Subse<|uently a large number of the friends of the new undertaking
lat down to tea m the school-room. — ^The subsequent meeting was presided
over by Mr. Thomas Booth, and was addressed by the Rev. Mr. Sayer, and
other ministers and friendi.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

348 Religious hUelUgence.

RAWSTENSTALL.

On Sunday, the iVth day of May, we held our Sunday-school AnnWenary
in connection with this place of worship, when two excellent and impressiye
sermona were preached in the afternoon and evening by our highly esteemed
ininister, the Rev Edwin Wright ; also, in the morning of the same day, an
excellent address waa delivered to parents, teachers, ana scholars, by Mr. John
Hawarth of Bacup. Collections were made after each service, which were
considerably larger than usual.

J.I..

BAILLIE-STREET SUNDAT-SCHOOL, ROCHDALE.

; On Whit-Fridav, June 5th, the teachers and scholars of Baillie-street Sunday-
school asseroblea in the Chapel at half-past twelve o'clock, and proceeded
shortly afterwards, accompanied hj the ministers and other friends, through
several of the principal streets of the town to Harelands, the residence of
Mrs. Hoyle, and from thence through the Plantation and Rookery of Mr.
Ho^'le, Crossfields, returning to the Butts, a vacant plot of ground adjoining
the river in the centre of the town. After singing some favourite hymns, the
procession moved forward to the Chapel, where the scholars were supplied
;with buns and lemonade.

At five o'clock a public tea-meeting waB held in the School-room, and
when all had partaken, our superintendent minister, the Rev. H. Breeden, was
elected to occupy the chair.

' Mr. Schofield having read the Report,* addresses were delivered by the
'Revs. Mather and Sayer, and by several of the teachers. The following day
the teachers, scholars, and many friends assembled in a field engaged for the
occasion, near to Hollingworth Lake, a distance of about four milea from the
town, and several hours were there spent in agreeable and innocent recreations.
We were favoured with delightful weather on both days, and on no former
occasion have those connected with our school enjoyed a more pleasing anni-
versary than at this Whitsuntide. O.

ANNUAL BBFOBT.

Whatever interest may attach to the Annual Report of Baillie-street Sunday
tehool in the eves of its friends and supporters, that interest is still more
powerfiilly felt by its conductors. Another year has rolled by. Their time,
their labours, and their prayers have again been given on behalf of an institu-
tion which, for years, has been rooting itself more firmly amongst the families
of our town and neighbourhood, and the result of all this u felt to be vitally
important

The^ have endeavoured carefully to review the pest, to look honestly
4t their prospects and present condition ; and, while conscious of the weaiL-
ness incident to human agency, and the hopelessness of success apart from
Divine aid, they can rejoice in many proofs, that during the past year the
•*' hand of God has been ujpon them for good," while their hopes for the future
continue bright as heretofore.

The number of scholars at present on the books is 1072, viz., 461 boys, and
4S11 girls, being an increase of 40 upon last year's report. Of these, 44 hoys
and 198 girls are united with the Church, being an increase of 15. The totel
number of teachers is 170, and 146 of these are members of Society.

For some time, as is well known, our School-room, capacious as it is, hss
been inconveniently crowded, and we have been often at a loss where to placs
new scholars. That difficulty is now nearly obviated. The commodioui
vestries erected in connection with the Chapel, afford ample means for healthy
expansion, and it is hoped that competent persons who are not now engaged
in Sundajr-school labours, may be induced to volunteer their aid ; and that all
will be willing, as heretofore, to assist in meeting the increased expenditure
thus rendered necessary.

* Tbe Report is subjoined to this notice*

Digitized by VjOOQlC

BeUgiaus InieUigenct. 849

Our week-night meetings for the improvement both of scholars and teachers,
have had, on the whole, an increased attendance. The monthly lectures on
general topics have frequently led to interesting and profitable conversations.
The Young Men's Class is steadily pursuing its studies under competent direcc
tion, and the Singing and Sewing Classes are progressing favourably.

That part of our Report which must now be given. Is at once the most
mournful and the most encouraging. During the year two teachers, fiifteen
scholars, and two who formerly were as such, have been taken from our midst
Some of these died young, and some very suddenly ; but the visitors rejoice
that they are able to express their full belief in the eUmtU aqftty <tf every on€
of them.

It will not be expected, in the limited space at our disposal, that a separate
sketch of all these should be given. Many of them resemble each other so
much in their general features as to make this unnecessary, and in no case is
complete description intended ; our only purpose being, by a few rapid touches,
to give a general idea of character and circumstances.

GeorgeDorrell, Sarah Whitworth, and Mary Ann Hartley were very youngs
and died after so brief an illness that there was no opportunity for visitation.
They were amongst the Lambs of the flock, and the Great Shepherd has seen
fit to fold them early in a brighter region, where temptation and sorrow can
never coiae*

Francis Pilling, aged 16 years, was a scholar of several years standing, and
had for some time been a member of the Church. Having always been a wellf
conducted boy, of even temper and quiet demeanour, the change which
religion wrought within was not so outwardly striking as in the case of many.
It was not till tested by severe affliction, that his firmness of faith and fulness
of, patience became apparent to others. During our last Whit- Friday's proces-
non, he was partially dressed, and borne up by his friends, so as to see and
hear his schoolmates for the last time. He lingered on for some weeks after
this, in extreme weakness of body, but his squl was at rest, trusting in Jesus.

John Jones, aged 20 years, had long been connected with the schoolas teacher,
and afterwards as assistant librarian, which office he continued to hold till
failing health compelled him to retire, lliose who are accustomed to visit the
lick, must have noticed the great unwillingness there often is on the part of
young persons to consider themselves as seriously ill, and a general backward-
ness to converse freely on religious topics. Pointed questions as to their
spiritual condition, appear to be connectea in their minds with the certainty of
approaching death ; and thus they are seldom led to state their experience
fully, till hope of ultimate recovery has almost passed awav. So it was in this
case. After a period of reserve quite in accordance with his character, he at
length spoke freely to those about him, and his testimony was clearly and
calmly given that he was going to heaven. The writer, who saw him the day
before ms decease, cherishes a sweet remembrance of that closing interview. ■

Amongst the happy deaths in connection with our school, no record shines
out more clearly than one given of Susannah Stott, four years ago. Her sister
Alice was then a thoughtless girl, apparently healthy, and fully willing to enjoy
such pleasures as this world can give. Susannah's death made no visible im-
pression upon her, and, after a time, the attractions of the Sabbath-school
began to lose their hold. She was about to assume the responsibilities of
married life, when disease suddenly manifested its presence, and it soon be-
came evident that the result would be fatal. She was amongst the first to
perceive this, and it was, indeed, surprising to see with what readiness she
resigned herself to her lot. The truths taught in this school were recalled and
pondered. She sought the advice and aid of her former friends. She em-
braced, with heartiness and simplicity, the hope of salvation held out to her in
the gospel, and speedily realized a full assurance of pardon and peace. To-
some thoughtless visitors who recommended her "not to think of death, but
keep up her spirits," she replied, ** My spirits are not down. I have trusted in
the Lord Jesus, and there is no need for me to be sorrowful." Her absolute
freedom from fear can be conceived only by those who witnessed it ; and such

was ker experience to the close of life* Two days after our last annual
gathering, slie entered sweetly into rest, in the 21st year of her age.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

350 Religioui Intelligence,

We are compelled now to ip-oup together a number of cases, each of
mhich would be interesting if separatelv considered, and respecting which the
sick visitor, in his remarks, will afford further information. Alice Dean, aged
20 years ; Jane Stott, 15 ; Elizabeth Lord, 20 ; Alice Leach, 12; Ellen Lord,
23; Sarah Lee, 16; Elizabeth Ellen Shepherd, 18; Joseph Whitehead, a
married man, 28; and Robert Howarth, a teacher of one of the junior
classes, 23.

In all these cases the leading features were strikingly similar. There was
the same fruitless striving against the encroachments of disease, and the same
ffradual, unwelcome conviction of its fatal character. Then came the change
from thoughtlessness, or unfounded hope, to sad misgiving — from cold reserve
to anxious enquiry and earnest prayer. Through the mercy of God in Chrut
Jesus, they were all enabled to flee for refuge to the hope set before them in
the gospel, and add their adoring testimony to the power of saving grace.
Two of the number now referred to, Sarah Lee and Elizabeth Ellen Shepherd,
were in the same class, and interred on the same day, their class-mates
attending their mortal remains to the cemetery, where the circumstance was
sought to be made a blessing to the survivors in an address delivered by Mr.
Moiineuz.

There is one fact in connection with these cases which both scholars and
teachers would do well to ponder. In not more than one or two of them was
any profession of religion made during health. Earnest, practical pietv— the
moving, guiding principle of an active holy life — was apparently neglected,
and the great work of preparation for eternity was deferred till tne body was
felt to be dropping into decay.

The Churcn of Christ on earth can never be built up after this fashion, to
say nothing of the danger of waiting for a quiet period of decline, and a day
of grace which may never arrive. Let those who are thus procrastinating
reflect on the following record.

Jane Schofield, aged 15 years, always a ouiet and obedient girl, was led to
serious reflection by the loss of her sister Martha, whose happy death was
reported here twelve months ago. A few weeks since she was attacked by ill-
ness, and, almost jfrom the first, her memory wandered. Still, even her hallu-
cinations were sweet. Visions of beauty often floated before her eye, and
strains of psalmody were sounding in her ear. At times she would repeat
entire hymns, or appear to converse with her teachers or superintendents, and
then her sister Martha seemed to beckon her away. . During one of her lucid
intervals she said to her mother, ** Oh, mother, if I had to seek religion now,
what a terrible thing it would be, for I could not remember how to prav."

What solemn reflections does this remark awaken 1 Let our scholars lay
these things to heart.

For the encouragement of teachers in our junior classes, as well as those
scholars who desire to seek the Saviour in their early days, the experience of
Alice Shepherd, a girl of eleven years of age, is given, as showing how a simple
reception of the truths here taught enabled her to look calmly upon approach-
ing death. Her mother states, that for some time before her last illness, and
while in apparent good health, she spent most of her spare time in reading
such good books as she could comprehend, especially her school hymns ; and
when attacked by a species of croup, which terminated her earthly existence
after a few hours of intense suflering, she continued perfectly calm in mind.
Seeing her mother weep after an interview with the doctor, she asked, "What
does the doctor say, mother?" and, on hearing his opinion, that there was no
hope of her recovery, she quietly said, ** Well, don't weep for me, mother. I
shall go to heaven. I am going to be with Jesus." This child-like trust was
unwavering. ^ It sustained her through a period of great bodily pain, after
which her loving Saviour took her peacefully into rest.

The only remaining cases to which we have to refer are those of Hannah
Holt and Hachel Williamson. Although the marriage of the former, and the
delicate health of the latter, led to the severance of their connection with the
school some years ago, they continued to cherish the warmest emotions towards
the place where their first religious iaipressions were received. The affliction
of Hannah Holt was of long duration and painful in its character, yet with

Digitized by VjOOQIC

ReUgious fntelligence^ 351

"Iamb-like" patience she sufiered what her Heavenly Father was pleased to
call her to pass through, no murmur escaping her lips. For the visits of
Christian friends she often expressed her thankfulness, and was wont to
say, that she got on best when she had most of their sympathies and
prayers. Her pathway^ was indeed through much tribulation, but her conflicts
are over, and we rejoice in the assurance that she now has joined that
blessed company who have washed their robes and made them white in the
blood of the Lamb.

The case of Rachel Williamson ]^resents to us another pleasing illustration of
the power of Divine grace to sustain and comfort under circumstances of great
bodily weakness. There was, in her experience, so much of heavenly-minded-
ness, and such a lively anticipation of the joy of '| being for ever with the
Lord,*' that it was felt to be a privilege to visit the sick room. An affection of
the throat prevented her holding much converse with her friends ; but it was
cheering to behold in her countenance, the beamings forth of that joy and
peace which possessed her happv spirit. With much calmness and resignation
to the will of God she lingered lor several weeks in a state of great prostration
of strength, and when summoned away, we have no doubt was transplanted to
the Paradise of God.

The Committee cannot close this Report without expressing a hope that the
solemn and encouraging facts which tney have recorded will have their due
weight upon the hearts and consciences of both teachers and scholars, and
that all will be stimulated to enter upon the labours of another vear with
greater earnestness of purpose, and with a renewed dedication of themselvei
to God.

They trust also that such an occurrence as the removal by death during the
past'year, of no less than nineteen individuals once connected with the schools
will lead all to seek earnestly for a preparation to meet their God, "for in such
an hour as we think not, the Son or Man cometh," and especially let all who
desire the prosperity of our school be importunate at a throne of grace that
God would be pleased still more abundantly to crown our labours with success.

A MISSIONARY TOUR IN CORNWALL.

Sir,~Before leaving Helston the other day I was earnestly requested to
furnish you with some

NOTES OF A CORNISH TOUR.

April 30th. Left Manchester for Bristol. Visited a few of the Birmingham
friends on the way.

May 1st. Arrived at Bristol earlv in the morning, by mail train : Partook
of the hospitality of my friend, the Rev. J. Garside : left by *' Express'*
steamer : stopped eight weary hours at Padstow, on the way to Hayle.

May 2nd. Arrived at Hayle about half-past eleven, ▲.!!., and Redruth, at
half-past two, p.m. : my old friends, the Revs. W. R. Brown and W. T. Svnions
kindly met me at Hayle : Lectured to a Town Hall full of people on *' intern*
perance, and the way to suppress it." R* Grylls, Esq., in the chair. Rev. S.
Aunear, of Truro, and others, addressed the meeting.

May 3rd. Preached at Camborne at half-past ten : Jlloffan-highway, at
half-past two : Redruth, at six. Full congregations : at night overflowings
Several in distress.

May 4th. Preached at Camborne in the afternoon: took part in the
Missionary meeting at night. Chapel full : several standing.

May 5th. Visited Cairn Brae : a wonderful collection ot rocks, piled one
upon another, on a hill-top commanding a view of St. George's Channel on one
side, and the Irish Channel on the other, while Trehidy Park, St. Michael's
Mount, St. Ives, Redruth, Camborne, Two Ringmill, and many villages and
ruins lie in the broad lap of the varied landscape. The rocks are said to have
been piled by the Druids, and an altar is pointed out on which it is supposed
many a human sacrifice has been ofiered up. It is, however, probable that the
Appearance of the rocks is owing more to the plastic hand of Nature and her
atmospheric influences than to the feeble hand of man. Missionary meeting

Digitized by VjOOQIC

352 Religious Intelligence^

at Redruth, at seven P.M., Reginald Grjrllft, Esq., in the chair. Revs. S.AuneaT,
W. R. Brown, — Brown (Baptist,) and H. Tarrant, addressed the meetiog.
Congregation very large, and considerable Missionary enthusiasm.
^ May 6th. Illoffan Highway Missionary meeting. The brethren here were,
till recently, Methodist Reformers. They crowded the Chapel in every part,
filling the aisle from the entrance to the platform : the first Missionary meet-
ing held in the Chapel, and the most crowded I ever saw.

May 7th. Lectured in Helston Chapel on '* The Necessity and Justice of a
Maine Law for England." Rev. C Edwards effectively presided. Edvin
Yelland, Esq., of London, and Rev. R. Downing, of St. Ives, ably addressed
the meeting.

May 8ih. A great day in Helston,—*' Flora day" it is called by the educated ;
** Furry dav" by the uninstructed. A kind of fete is held in honour of the ancient
goddess Flora. Many people, dressed in best attire, are permitted to walk io
procession through the streets, and some of the houses of the respectable inha-
oitants. Every minute or so the promenaders change their procession into a
dance, which lasts but for a minute, while the band strikes up a tune sacred to
the day and the occasion. In the morning of the day the less privileged
classes have their own merriment. They also have a processron, with several
parties dressed up as mayor and aldermen, an old lady mounted on a Jeru-
salem pony, and a carriage drawn by several of the same graceful animals,
adorned with evergreens and festoons of flowers, natural and artificial. An
ancient melody, more remarkable for strength than harmony, is sung, and the
cavalcade proceed through the town. Crowds of people from the country wit-
ness the scene, but no drunkenness (that I can see) mars the mirth. No doubt
the custom arose when the country was unpurged from Roman or Saxon
idolatrv, but now it has become merely an occasion for a pleasant hoUday.
At night, lectured in Mullion Chapel to a very large and lively auditory, on
" The History and Workings of the Maine Law in America." Some first-rate
temperance hymns were sung in fine style during the evening.

May 9th. Visited JCyance Cove, and narrowly escaped filing down the
slippery side of one of its sea-worn rocky heights. Went through the Lizard
lignthouse, and was kindly entertained by its worthy keeper, Mr. Hugh
Palmer. This celebrated light-house has some thirty or forty reflectors, silver
plated, each worth 601,

May 10th. Preached in the morning at Cury to a chapel well-filled in ever?
part : Helston at night The aisles, together with the rest of the chapel,
fully occupied. One soul in deep distress.

' May 11 til. Missionary meeting at Helston. The Mayor ably presided over
the crowded assemblage, and the Rev. C. Spetigue, of St. Columb, was added
to the Missionary deputation. Beautifnl walks along the banks of the lake,
the shore covered with trees to the water's edge.

May I2th. Visited Muilion Cove and its sea-scooped caves — ^a beautiful
spot which will linger on the leaves of memory for many a year: Missionary
meeting at night, Mr. John Thomas in the chair.

May 13th. Cury Missionary meeting, presided over by W. C. Odgers, Esq.
Not a seat vacant. Never did I witness such Missionary zeal as was mani-
fested at these hallowed meetings. The collections exceeded those of past
years.

May 14th. Took farewell of my kind host and hostess, Mr. and Mrs.
Treloar, and visited Penzance : Heard the Bishop of Exeter preach with great
earnestness the deadly doctrines of Baptismal Regeneration and Sacramental
efiicacy. Preached at night in our neat little Penzance Chapel,

Mav 15th. Turned my face once more to the north, got on Board the ** Corn-
wall steamer, and came by quick passage to Bristol, and hence to Manches-
ter, happy to reach beloved friends there, but bearing a deep remembrance of
kind hospitalities, beautiful scenes, and spiritual blessings received in mj
"Cornish tour."

Manchester, June IS* H. Tarkant.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

THE

WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE.

AUGUST, 1867.

BERNARD PALISSY,*

AN EXiJIPLE OP TRUE NOBILITT OF CHARACTER.

Bernard Falissy was one of the most remarkable men, not only
of his own age, but of anj period of the world's history.

In him we have an example of true greatness — greatness resulting
not from adventitious circumstances, but attained in spite of the most
unfavourable circumstances — greatness founded not on ancestral ho-
nours, profuse wealth, and a celebrated name, nor on dashing deeds of
chivalry, and heroic military daring, — but greatness, self-developed,
a name self-made, from ignorance, obscurity, and poverty ; greatness
seen in character, founded on goodness, manifesting itself in patient
thought, minute observation, and persevering action, walking steadily
on to its goal, with the calm self-possession of genius, and the firm,
patient endurance which constitutes the truest and highest form of
courage.

It has been remarked, by the biographer of Bernard Palissy, that
he was *' obscurely great among the prominently little,** But even
in his own day he made himself known and his influence widely
felt ; known as well for his high moral principle and unobtrusive piety,
as for his acquisitions and discoveries in Art and Science. For
Palissy was a true artist, though not a great painter, and without any
advantage from a knowledge of the learned languages, or the philo-
sophj of the schools, he mastered not only the science of his own
day, but in many important principles and particulars anticipated
the discoveries of our times.

I will endeavour, as succinctly as possible, to give you the story of
Ins life, before hinting at the important lessons which may be
gathered from it.

Bernard Palissy was a man of obscure origin, born in an age
incapable of appreciating him. But to all true greatness there comes
a day, sooner or later, in which it is recognised. Party prejudices
and defective moral perception have often condemned noble spirits to •
struggle in obscurity, but posterity has vindicated them, and the
reward though late has come.

Palissy lived and laboured in the sixteenth century, and in the

nineteenth his life has furnished a theme for Lamartine in France, and

Morley in Erigland. To the men of his own day he was the clever

^This paper was delivered by our esteemed friend,— A minister in another denomi.
Babon.—onginally in the shape of a Lecture, to an assembly of working-men, in ono
^ the largest manufacturing towns of England.— Editor.

2 B

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

354 Bernard Palissyy

designer, the mad philosopher, the fanatic religionist. To tbe men of
our day he is held forth as a '' model man ; a man in whom tbe prac'
tical power of the workman is united with the genius of the philo-
sopher, and the virtue of the saint."

. " The elements so mixed in him, that Nature might stand np
And say to all the world, this was a man."

He is, says Lamartine, "The patriarch of the workshop, the poet of
manual labour in modem days ; he is the potter of the Odyssey, the
Bible and the Gospel, the type incarnate to exalt and ennoble every
business, however trivial, so that it has labour for its means, progress
and beauty for its motive, and the glory of God for its end."

The nearest approximation we can make to the time of his birth, is
the year 1509 : this appears to be within six years either way. His
parents were poor, and he received only a peasant's education. He had
not even the advantage of a city life, but spent his earlier years in the
country, in the comparatively barren and little country of Perigord,
in the South of France, now called Dordogne. In this district the
inhabitants were dependent for subsistence chiefiy on their walnuts
and chestnuts; which then more than now abounded there, whilst
their chief occupation was the rearing and tending of pigs. To a
small extent indeed they reared oxen, cultivated vineyards, and
manufactured oil, and were also celebrated for the truffles which their
woods yielded.

Palissy was a peasant boy in such a place, not bom to greatness,
nor having it thrust on him, but, like a true man, achieving it. There
is a nobility by right of parchment, and a nobility by right of
character. Falissy's was of the latter kind.

It may be that he had in him " some portion diluted" of noble blood,
and there is some evidence that he had, in the fact of his early occa-
pation having been that of a painter on glass. The state of the case is
this. There were many men in those days, as there are some now, whose
title was their only wealth. They belonged to a noble class, but had
no wealth to support their position. In order to live^ they must eal,
in order to eat they must huy^ and in order to buy they must have
money y and to obtain money they must work for it ; — and in order to
prevent these ragged nobles from sinking to the level of ordinary
workmen, two or three trades were ennobled for their benefit, and
among them working in glass. Thus men noble by birth, to whom
Dame Fortune had been unkind, might work, without breaking down
the platform which set them above men who were noble only by theii
honesty.

But what matters it whether or not Palissy could trace his descent
from some titled but impoverished family. The true man need not
care whence he came — ►

" However it be, it seems to me

'Tis only noble to be good ;

Kind hearts are more than coronets

And simple faith than noble blood."
Palissy had no education from books. In his day learning was eon-
fined to Greek and Latin, and acquaintance with authors in those

Digitized by VjOOQIC

An Example of true Nobility of Character. 355

languages was necessarily the test of Education. But Palissy tells
us, " I had no other books than Heaven and Earthy which are open to
all.*' But he had that without which books of the best kind will be of
little value; yiz., an innate love of knowledge, and an active faculty
of observation.

Doubtless he had his hours of reverie, and his seasons of mad -cap
revelry and noisy pastime — no child should be without them. To a
body full of vigorous health they are necessities of existence, to a
sound mind they are indispensable conditions.

His thoughtful and merry childhood passed — the youth assists his
father in his trade of glass-painting. He was fond of drawing, and
diligently practised the art. So that when a youth with down on
chin, he was able to amuse and gratify his friends and neighbours by
drawing their portraits on paper.

This was of great use to him in after-life. Youth may learn from
this that an acquisition, however little it may appear at the time to be
connected with their daily occupation, is not entirely useless, and may
become greatly useful.

The trade of glass-painting was in Palissy's time in a state of decay.
It was hard to live by it. The business of his father provided but
scanty subsistence for the household. Bernard, therefore, with self-
reliance, and independence characteristic of a great mind, shouldered
his mallet, and set out, at about eighteen years of age^ to look for his
position in the world, —

" The world before him, where to choose."

Palissy wandered with face set towards the Pyrenees and entered
Gascony.

He sought knowledge, but he knew no university but that of Nature
^and to him the books and trees, the wayside, the woods and moun-
tains, were the colleges.

It was an age of war ; Francis I. of France, and Charles V. of
Spain, had involved one half of Europe in sanguinary conflict Two
hundred thousand lives destroyed, and a million of families ruined, had
left these two monarchs renowned— they were written gkeat in blood
and ashes.

Palissy might have become a soldier, and cut and hacked his way io
glory, but this was not his plan. He sought only to study nature, and
to Hve by his art.

For twelve years he wandered through France, from the Pyre-
nees to the sea of Flanders and the Netherlands. He gathered expe-
rience in Brittany and by the Rhine. He visited Lower Germany,
the Ardennes Luxembourg, the Duchy of Cleves, and the Brisgau.
He spent time in his native district of the Agcnoirs, and in the Bour-
delais. At Yarbes, the capital of Bigone, he dwelt some years, and
remained long in sundry other towns.

For an account of these wanderings, and what he did and learned, we
must refer you to the very charming biography by Henry Morley.
Suffice it to say, this was a period of his unconscious education. Hq
learnt from men much, from nature more. To him

2 B 2

Digitized by VjOOQlC

856 Bernard Palisty^

^ The meanest flower that blows
Gave thoughts that oft lay too deep for tears.**

After twelve years of uneasy wandering, Palissy married, and settled
in the pleasant and picturesque old Roman town of Saintes, (he capital
of the province of Saintergne, on the western coast line of France;
and there he subsisted by his triple trade of glass- stainer, portrait
painter, and surveyor. His family multiplied, and of course his cares
as well as his joys increased.

But Palissy became dissatisfied. Not indeed with his home. He
was a man of true loving heart ; a good man, a true husband, a kind
father. But a circumstance occurred which awakened in him a yearn-
ing for greater things, and led to that heroic struggle with circum-
stances which gives so much of character to after life.

He says, in his own quaint way, *' About twenty- five years ago
there was shown to me an earthen cup, turned and enamelled with so
much beauty, that from that time I entered into controversy with mj
own thoughts, recalling to mind several suggestions that some people
had made to me in fun, when I was painting portraits. Then seeing
that they were falling out of requeet in the country where I dwelt,
and that glass-painting was also little patronised, I began to think that
if I could discover how to make enamels, I could make earthen vessels
and other things very prettily, for God had gifted me with some
knowledge of drawing ; and thereafter, regardless of the fact that 1
had no knowledge of clays, I began to seek for the enamels as a man
gropes in the dark."

The history of pottery is deeply interesting, but even to glance at
it falls not within my purpose.

The cup which Palissy saw, was a specimen of the workmanship of
Lucadella Robbiet. The knowledge of enamel-making was not pos-
sessed by any in France, nor could Palissy obtain it elsewhere— even
where it existed. He determined, therefore, to discover it, and, with
brave and earnest soul, he worked on in the dark, careless of sundry
bruisings and mishaps, until he came out into sunlight, and estalh
lished name and fortune.

Brave souls may begin in darkness, but if pursuing a worthy
object, success will sooner or later be reached.

The task Palissy now set himself, was to discover, without teacher,
without the slightest knowledge of ingredients, the white enamel

He says afterwards, '' Had I employed a thousand reams of paper
in writing for you all the incidents that have occurred to me upon
my search, you may assure yourself, that however clever you might
be, there would occur to you a thousand other crosses which could not
be taught by letters, and which, even if you had them written, you
would not believe, until you should have been thrust by experience
among a thousand troubles."

" Discoveries," says Whewell, in his Inductive Sciences, "are not
improperly described as happy guesses : in these as in other instances,
there are various supposititious modes, of which some one turns out to
be the right one. We may in such cases conceive the discoverer as
inventing and trying many conjectures, till he finds one which

Digitized by VjOOQIC

An Example of true Nobility of Character. 857

answers the purpose of combining the scattered facts into a simple
rule."

Palissy had no Whewell to direct him, or to gire him a hint,
yet this was the verj path he pursued. He says, "Without
having heard of what materials the said enamels were composed
—I pounded in those days all the subetances which I could
Boppose likely to make anything ; and having pounded and ground
them, I bought a quantity of earthen pots, and after having
broken them in pieces, I put some of the materials I had ground
upon them, and having marked them, I set apart in writing
what drugs I had put upon each, as a memorandum ; then, having
made a furnace to my fancy, I set the fragments down to bake, that
I might see whether my drugs were able to produce some whitish
colour ; for I sought only after white enamel, because I had heard it
8aid that white enamel was the basis of all others. Then, because I
had never seen earth baked, nor could I tell by what degree of heat
the enamel should be melted, it was impossible for me to get any
result this way, though my chemicals should have been right,
because, at one time the mass might have been heated too much,
at another too little ; and when the said materials were baked
too little, or too much, I could not, at all, tell the reason why I met
with no success, but would throw blame on the materials, which
sometimes perhaps were the right ones, or at least could have afforded
me some hint for the accomplishment of my intentions, if I had been
able to manage the fire in the way that my materials required. But,
again, in working thus, I committed a fault still greater than that
above named ; for in putting my trial pieces in the furnace, I
arranged them without consideration, so that if the materials had
been the best in the world, and the fire also the fittest, it was impos-
sible for any good result to follow. Thus, having blundered several
times at a great expense, and through much labour, I was every day
pounding and grinding new materials, and constructing new furnaces,
which cost much money, and consumed my wood and my time." So
he failed, but he was not beaten * he tried again, and this time
he bethought him of the furnaces of the potters. He bought fresh
chemicals, mixed more powders, brake more pots, and having spread
his powders on his pieces, covering three or four hundred of the
fragments, he took them to the potter's furnace, and there, amid jibes
and badinage, he waited and watched. They were baked, but
when they came out he received nothing but shame and loss, because
they turned out good for nothing.

But still he tried again, and continued to do so for a long period ;
still he tells us, ''with great cost, loss of time, confusion, and
Borrow."

And now, the necessities of his family had become urgent, and his
wife had become clamorous, and for a while he gave in ; but it was
only a pause to take breath.

Just at this time Providence provided help for him. The king of
France wanted money for his wars, and determined to have the salt
marshes in Palissy's neighbourhood, in order to the adjustment of the

Digitized by VjOOQlC

858 Bernard Palissy.

famous gabelle, or salt tax. Palissy was employed bj tbe comnus-
sioner to do this— thus his wants were met. For about a year and a
half he plentifully provided for his family, laid up during that time
a little money for future use, and laid in a good stock of knowledge *
too. He studied the geology of the district, its earths and salts, and
thus was fitted to write a work on Divers Salts."

But during these eighteen months he had not forgotten his enamels.
He says, ^' Then, when the said commission was ended, and I found
myself paid with a little money, I resumed my affection for pursuing
in the track of the enamels."

His wife remonstrated and scolded, but he was determined, and she
must endure. He broke up about three dozen earthen pots, he tells
us, " all of them new," and repeated his processes. This time he
tried the glass furnaces, because they were hotter. For about two
years he says, " I did nothing but go and come between my house
and the adjacent glass-houses, aiming to succeed in my intentions/'

Now he gets a glimpse of success : in his own beautiful way he telli
us, " God willed that when I had begun to lose my courage, and was
gone for the last time to a glass furnace, having a man with me carry-
ing more than three hundred kinds of trial pieces, there was one among
those pieces which was melted within four hours after it had been
placed in the furnace, which trial turned out white and polished, in a
way that caused me such joy as made me think myself a new crea-
ture, and I thought that from that time I had the full perfection of
the white enamel ; but I was very far from having what I thought"

But now he goes more cautiously to work : he must have a furnace
of his own, lest his secret should be discovered and stolen from him
by the glass-workers. If he can accomplish this, he thinks all
will be well.

But he is now poor again, having exhausted his funds on previous
experiments, still he has health and energy, and these must supply
the place of money, so he becomes his own mason, and with great
toil, but undaunted perseverance,^he builds his furnace. He had not
only built a furnace, but had made vessels of clay on which to try
his enamel, and herein he made a great mistake. It is possible to be
too independent and too economical ; Palissy was so, and had to pay
dearly for it ; for not being properly acquainted with this part of the
business, he lost some seven or eight months in making and baking
pots which he might have bought at a very low cost, and avoided the
exhaustion of his strength. However, he succeeded in making and
baking his pottery, and proceeded to the process of enamelling.
Before his furnace he sat for six days and six nights, incessantly
feeding the fire. But he says " It was not possible to make the
enamel melt ; and I was like a man in desperation."

Although confessing that he was quite stultified with labour, he
commenced a new process. " Do or die," seems to have been his
motto. He kept up the fire of his furnace, pounded and ground
fresh materials, obtained more pots, coated them with a fresh pre-
paration, and committed them to his furnace.

His case was now grown desperate> his wife and neighbours said

Digitized by VjOOQIC

An Example of true NcbiLity of Character. 8S9

that he was mad. He had no money, and his credit was gone. His
fire must be maintained, but his fuel was exhausted. In his despe-
ration he tore down the palings of his garden, broke up his furniture
and the flooring of the house, and thrust all in the devouring flame.
His wife rushed into the streets, crying that he was burning down
his dwelling. He succeeded : some of the chemicals melted over his
jars and produced a white enamel. But nothing was done yet, he
had only proved to himself that something might be done.

He now determined to engage a potter, who understood his art, to
make him a batch which he could enamel. The man is engaged, a
magnanimous innkeeper oflering to lodge and board him for six
months, and charge the same to Palissy's account. The work goes on
much as before, another furnace is built with his own hands, chemi-
cals ground, vessels and medallions coated with the preparation, the
fire is lighted, and the batch baked. Palissy hopes to obtain three or
four hundred livres from the sale of this baking, and thus to satisfy
the kind innkeeper, and his other creditors, as well as to stay the
clamours of his wife and friends. But on dravnng the work from
the furnace, it is found, that although the enamel is perfect, the work
is spoiled, from the mortar with which the furnace was built, being
full of flints, and these having exploded with the great heat, had
filled the enamel with splinters, which adhered on all sides to his
vessels and medalHons, " which had else been beautiful." And so
the labour of months is lost again. Some, indeed, ^<he says would
have boaght the produce of the furnace at a meaner price." But, no !
the good old potter, gaunt, and ragged, and furnace-stained, a very
Lear in his distress, rushes wildly upon his spoiled batch, and breaks
it all to fragments at his feet.

Poor, noble Bernard ! we cannot blame his wife for her violent
reproaches, and yet one would admire and love her could we hear
from her at this moment one word of sympathy. He had worked
and suffered through eight long years, and had at length, at the age of
forty, forced the secret from nature. The bitterness was past, but
not the toil ; for eight years more are required to learn the discovery
to advantage. But this too he learned, and at length came out vic-
torious, and with wife and children shared the fruits of his sixteen
years toil and blundering. " He was a great naturalist as well as a
great artist." This is manifest in the peculiar character of his pro-
ductions, many of which are preserved in a gallery in the Louvre,
known as Palissy's room, and described by Lamartine in his " Cele-
brated Characters."

But Palissy was not only an artist — ^he was a philosopher of no
mean order.

In this capacity he anticipated many of the discoveries of the pre^
sent age. It is said of him, — " He was a chemist before chemistry
was a science. He guessed keenly and wisely at the philosophy of
health and disease — inculcating sanatory theories, which the Boards
of Health of the present day find objected to as novelties."

In his theory of Earthquakes, he very nearly propounds the theory
of the Steam-engine. In Geology he outstripped all his contempo-

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

360 Bernard Palissi/j

raries. And when he removed to Paris, he established in his own
house the first museum of natural objects ; delivered lectures to the
most learned men of France on Natural History, and in his " little
academy," as he called it, " established the first Association for the
Advancement of Science." " Thus, with his clear eye and accurate
observation, and logical thought, full of simplicity, and therefore full
of power, did this great man well nigh anticipate, in 1*580, some of
the greatest discoveries of 1850,^ wonderfully tending to truth in all
his speculations, by that same instinct of philosophy which makes
observation its basis, simplicity its guide, and truth its aim."

But he was as great as a Christian, as he was as an artist and a
philosopher.

In his religious character, his individutzlity is as striking as in bis
artistic productions and his scientific conclusions.

His work bore the mark of his master-mind so much, that an unla-
belled dish, in Marlborough House, is readily picked out by any one
who is acquainted with the genius of this man. There is no fear of
confounding Palissy's work with that of any other potter. Just so did
his religious q^aracter stand out in bold and individual originality. He
was a man who dared to be singular, in the expression of honest con-
viction and the maintenance of truth. He did not fall into the current
theological mould, and take up uninquiringly the fashionable or-
thodoxy, so easily learned and so cheaply defended. As he had
sought out the white enamd, and after painful toil had it for himself,
so he sought out soul quickening truth, and having found it, he
esteemed it a precious treasure, to be kept even at the price of life.

In 1546, religious strife raged fiercely in France. Very soon after
Palissy's settlement at Saintes, a persecution of heretics broke out
there, and a Huguenot preacher was burnt.

In his " History of the Troubles of Saintes," he says, " If you had
seen the horrible excesses that I have seen during these troubles, 70a
have not a hair of your head, that would not have trembled at the
fear of falling to the mercy of man's malice." The town of Saintes was
for a time a refuge to the poor, persecuted Huguenots ; and we gather,
from Palissy's own account of the times, that he himself had intro-
duced Gospel truth, and originated a Christian Church in that place.
In his modest way, he says, " There was in this town a certain
artizan, marvellously poor and indigent, who had so great a desire for
the advancement of the Gospel, that he demonstrated it every day to
another person, as poor as himself, and with as little learning, for
they both scarcely knew anything. Nevertheless the first urged upon
the other, that if he would employ himself in making some form of
exhortation, that would be productive of great fruit." And so five or
six began to meet every Sunday. Their nearest approach to preach-
ing for some time was the reciting of Scripture passages, and mulml
comments thereon.

At length the numbers increased, and they got a minister. The
good man had not a very luxurious time of it ; for Master Bernard,
as " he veiy frequently ate apples and drank water for his dinner ;
and for want of tablecloth veiy often laid his dinner upon a shirt,

Digitized by VjOOQlC

An Example of true Nobility of Character. 361

inasmuch as they had not the means of paying him his salary." << In
that way," he says, '' our church was established in the beginning by
despised folk." Bernard Palissy was not ashamed to consort with
them. He saw the truth, not the " despised folk," and although he
aspired to become a prosperous tradesman, and even to exercise his
art in the service of " the King and the Constable," he would not
deny nor hide his religious convictions.

Palissy was known to be a Huguenot, and though long mercifully
preserved, he did not escape persecution. In 1562 his house was
broken into, during the night, his workshop and pottery were de-
stroyed, and he was hurried away to Bourdeaux, and there cast into
prison. In this strait the white enamel instrumentally saved his life.
He had received patronage and employment from the Marshal Mont-
morenci, and he held a protection from the Due de Montpensier. His
powerful friends interceded for him at court, and the Queen- Mother
obtained for him his life and liberty. He removed in 1564 to Paris,
and established his workshop on the site of the Tuilleries. But he was
not a man to compromise his religious convictions. He wrote a work
in which he boldly avowed himself a Huguenot, and addressed letters
to his protectors, the Constable and the Queen-Mother, full of the
most^touching simplicity, and yet the most martyr-like fearlessness.

In" 1572 the horrible massacre of St. Bartholomew took place, and
again Palissy was mercifully preserved, by what means we are not
informed. He lived on until seventy-six years of age, sending forth
valuable writings from time to time, of which Lamartine speaks on
this wise.

" His scattered leaves long forgotten, and at last collected from two
volumes of real treasures, human wisdom, divine piety, and eminent
genius, as well as of great simplicity, vigour, and copiousness of
style.

"It is impossible, after reading them, not to consider the poor potter
one of the greatest writers of the French language ; Montaigne is
not more free and flowing ; Jean Jacques Eosseau is scarcely more
graphic ; neither does Bossuet excel him in his poetical power. In
his allegories, his reflections, his pathos, his descriptions, and his
poetry, he is as great as any of the authors we have named."

And now, at seventy-six years of age, the long suspended blow
falls upon him. His friends were powerful, but in order to save him
from immediate death, they were compelled to imprison him in the
Bastile He had companions in his captivity, " two fair girls con-
demned for their faith."

But ** stone walls do not a prison make," and Palissy's spirit was
unbroken by four years lingering captivity. The Duke of Guise and
his triumphant party at length became clamorous for the potter's blood.
His high reputation, spotless character, and grey hairs were no
protection from the ruthlessness of religious bigotry. But Palissy's
spirit quailed not. Henry HI. visited him in his prison, and said to
him~" My good man, you have been forty-five years in the service of
the queen, my mother, or in mine, and we have suffered you to live
in your own religion, amidst all the executions, and the massacres.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

S62 Bernard Palissy.

Now, howeyer, I am bo pressed by the Guise party, and my people,
that I have been compelled, in spite of myself, to imprison these two
poor women and you, they are to be burnt to-morrow, and you also, if
you will not be converted." What says the old man to that ? Surely
he might conform at the request of a King. Surely he might do good
at Court. His yielding might go some way towards healing party
strifes. At any rate it is useless for him to hold out. He is a feeble
white-haired man of eighty, and he can do no good shut up in
the Bastile, less, if burnt, it might be. But he speaks ; listen to his noble
words. " Sire, you hare said several times that you feel pity for me,
but it is I who pity you, who have said ' I am compelled,' but that is
not speaking like a king. These girls and I, who have part in the
Kingdom of Heaven, wiU teach you to talk royaUy. The Guissants,
all your people, and yourself, cannot compel a potter to fall down to
images of clay." Well, and right royally spoken, noble old Bernard !
There is more true kingship about thee, than in him who wears the
crown. More true courage, than in the hero of a hundred fights.
Thou art tried and found worthy to have thy name placed on the roll
of God-made kings. The martyr's crown befits thee well. The girls
were burnt, Falissy was not. The Duke of Guise was assassinated
by the contrivance of Henry ; Henry in his turn was assassinated by j
the contrivance of the duke's sister. And in the same year Bernard j
Palissy, one of the greatest, wisest, best of the sons of France, died
quietly in the Bastile. j

Sleep in peace old man ! Posterity builds thy monument. Though
dead thou livest and speakest stilK j

Surely, without moralizing or sermonising, we shall find in this I
fapid and imperfect sketch some instructive lessons for all.

Here is a mail triumphing over circumstance by a powerful will

We have no heart to notice his extravagant devotion to his object, \
hxA his seeming neglect of pressing domestic claims and duties. We |
will, without defending him, think for the time being only of the
^ energetic, self-reliant man, pushing on through apparently unconquer-
able obstacles, to the height he at last attained. He is without educa-
tion, without books, without patrons, poverty grips fast hold on him,
men laugh at him, scorn him, his wife declares him mad. But h •
goes on. He was no sentimental son of genius, prating of hard fate,
and blind fortune ; no poetic dreamer, full of plan and purpose, but
halting at performance. He was an earnest worker ; and as every
earnest worker will do, he conquered circumstances, and made for
himself a new world. |

Learn this lesson then from him, have a purpose in life worthy of
pursuit, pursue it untiringly, and you will conquer.

" There is always work,
And tools to work withal, for those wno will ;
And blessed are the horny hands of toil.
The busy world shoves angrily aside
The man who stands with arms akimbo set,
Until occasion tells him what to do ;
Our time is one that calls for earnest deeds."

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Adaptations between the Terrestial and Celestial Economies. 863

In Bernard Palissj, too, we see a man whose greatness was
founded on his goodness. He was no mere genius. In him was not
onlj creative power and imitative faculty. His was the power of
principle. He drew life, and inspiration, and strength, not only
from Grod's book, written by holy inspired men of old — he learnt
faith from Abraham — ^poetry from David — ^and moral heroism from
the recorded history of God-fearing men in all ages.

We have not to set before you his power as an apology for his
vices, to excuse his passions by his poetry, his meanness by his genius.
We have to tell you that he was a man who preferred holiness to all
else, who read ^his Bible and found comfort, peace, and strength in
prayer, and so was able to live a blameless life in a corrupt age, and
to die heroically for his religion in the Bastile. Would that all would
learn the lesson, that nought is great hut what is good.

There may be gold to glitter — rank to awe — brilliance to dazzle—
and power to astonish. But these are not greatness.

When will the world learn to estimate men only by what they are,
and not by what they have ? Cease to worship mere genius ; and
confess that the good only are the great men.

Here, then, you have a portrait of a whole life. It has been well
said, Palissy in the furnace is manifestly the prototype of Palissy in
the Bastile I His example is a great and universal one in its remarks
as in its labours^ Study it. The most precious product of Palissy's
life was not the pottery^ but the man, " All things will teach and
feshion you, if you have but the eye to perceive, and the grace to lear4
their moral lessons."

*' So build me up the being, that we are
Drinking in the soul of things,
We shall be wise perforce.

Whatever we see,
Whate'er we feel, will tend to feed and nurse,

By agency direct or indirect,
Our faculties shall fix in calmer seats
Of moral strength, and raise to loftier heights
Of love Divine our intellectual souls."

ADAPTATIONS BETWEEN THE TERRESTEIAL AND
CELESTIAL ECONOMIES.

A STRIKING example of this class may be seen in the provision which has
oeen made for watering the earth, and the method in which the most
powerful forces are brought into action for this end. Water is essential
to the support of life and the growth of vegetation ; but water in a state
of purity, and not stagnant, but flowing. The same element which, in this
state, makes *' soft the ridges of the earth," and nourishes the roots, and
ascends into the stems and branches of plants and trees, would produce
jniversal desolation and decay, were its constitution materially changed
hy the intermixture of other substances, or were it simply to remain
stagnant in the same soil. It must, therefore, be administered pure,—- and
It must be carried off. And what is the provision which has been made for

Digitized by VjOOQIC

S64 Adaptations between the Terrestrial and Celestial Eeonomiet,

watering all the islands and continents of the world 1 Tlie sim by its
heat, acting on the lakes and rivers, and even on the marshy soil, bat
above all, on the vast surface of the sea, converts, every day, a portion of
their waters into the form of an impalpable, and often invisible vapour.
That vapour rises CTaduaily into the air, containing nothing but what is
essential to the end in view, and leaving behind ail the impurities— the
salts, the feculence, by which its wholesomeness had been impaired.* The
water has been subjected to a process of distillation ; it ascends to the
region of the clouds, and is suspended in mid-heaven for days and weeks
together ; there, by the action of a colder atmosphere, it is condensed,—
and the influence of other agents, such as the electric fluid, is brought to
bear upon it, till, in due season, it is precipitated from those vast re-
servoirs, not in a drenching and destructive deluge, but in small siogle
drops,— and falls on the earth so gently that the lowly violet can receive it
into its bosom unhurt. In winter, when the stems of plants must be
hardened and the soU pulverised by frost, it comes down in flakes of snow,
which, falling softly on the earth, cover it as with a fleecy mantle, and
preserve the seeds and roots, which might otherwise have been destroyed.
But let the rain or snow which falls in a single year remain stagnant in
the soil, and, instead of being the nutriment, in will become the pouion, of
vegetation ; and, therefore, it is carried off again, — partly by the same
action of the sun, converting it once more into vapour, ana partly by the \
water^courses which run from all lands into the sea ; and thus from year \
to year continaally the same vast process is going on, whereby immense |
volumes of water are heaved up into the sky, so as to diffuse an equal \
supply of moisture over the largest continents, and to refresh alike the
richest landscape and the loneliest wilderness ! I

The beauty of this arrangement must be discerned intuitively by every
one who understands it ; and with the same intuitive certainty will every
thoughtful mind perceive its utility. The practical benefits which flow
from it, however unheeded by the careless observer, will be duly appre-
ciated by every agriculturist, if he will only consider how he woufd be \
situated were this magnificent process superseded or suspended. Without
a regulated supply of moisture, agriculture is impossible. But let him j
even suppose that the mere element of water were supplied to him in the
lakes, and rivers, and oceans, by which he is surrounded, — while no pro-
vision has been made for converting it into vapour,— and none for elevating
it to the region of the clouds, — and none for condensing it there,— and
none for scattering it in rain or dew-drops over his fields ; — in a word, let
him conceive that the sun's action on the waters of the- earth were suspen-
ded : could he hope, by any amount of manual labour or mechanical force,
to supply the want of those cloudy reservoirs, and those natural showers,
by whicn the whole earth is nourished and refreshed, unless that waot
were compensated by some other provision equally natural and constant?
No doubt, some other provision might be made, or some compensation
found for the want of rain,— as in the case of Egypt, where the land,
deprived of natural tthowers, was watered by the rising of the Nile (Duet,
xi. 10); but assuredly, if this be an exceptional case, it is such an exception
as serves only to confirm the rule. And the wisdom, as well as the utility,
of the common arrangement, will be still more clearly discerned, if we con-
sider that while agencies of tremendous power are at work, yet these
agencies are so nicely adjusted to one another ,*and so wisely propor-
tioned, both to the materials on which they act and to the ends for which
they are employed, that, speaking generally, the earth suffers neither
through redundancy nor defect, but receives year after year a supply,
which varies within certain limits, but keeps ever to a mean average
proportioned to its wants, and sufficient for the support and perpetuation

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Germs of Thought. 365

of all its liying tribes. And this is the more wonderful, because, were either
the sun more or less powerful, or were water more or less easily converti-
ble into vapour, or were the magnitude of the sea, as compared with that of
the dry land, materially different from what it now is, the earth must
necessarily suffer either from drought or from deluge. But powerful as is
the action of the forces, and vast as is the scale on which the process is
conducted, we observe a certain uniformity, which on the whole, is demon-
strably conducive to the end in view, and which bespeaks the wisdom of
One who could adjust the balance of such forces, and the power of One who
could bend them all to the accomplishment of his will.

To this beautiful example the sacred writers frequently refer. Nothing
can be more exquisite than the words of the Psalmist : " Thou coveredst
the earth with the deep as with a garment ; the waters stood above the
mountains. At thy rebuke they fled, at the voice of thy thunder they
hasted away. They go up by the mountains, they go down by the valleys,
unto the place which thou hast founded for them. Thou hast set a bound
that they may not pass over, that they turn not again to cover the earth.
He sendeth the springs into tbe valleys, which run among the hills. They
give drink to every beast of the field ; the wild asses quench their thirst.
By them shall the fowls of the heaven have their habitation, which sing
among the branches. He watereth the hills from his chambers j.the earth is
satisfied with the fruit of thy works. He causeth the grass to grow for
the cattle, and herb for the service of man, that he may bring forth food
out of the earth . . . O Lord ! how manifold are thy works ? in wis-
dom hast thou made them all." (Ps. civ. 6-24.)— Thou visitest the earth
and waterest it ; thou greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is
full of water ; thou preparest them corn, when thou hast so provided for it.
Thou waterest the ridges thereof abundantly ; thou settlest the furrows
thereof; thou makest it soft with showers ; thou blessest the springing
thereof. Thou crownest the year with thy goodness, and thy paths drop
fatness. They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness, and the little
hills rejoice on every side. The pastures are clothed with flocks, the val-
leys also are covered over with corn, they shout for joy, they also sing."
(Ps. Ixv. 9-13.)— "Let us now fear the Lord our God, that giveth ram,
both the former and the latter, in his season ; he reserveth unto us the
appointed weeks of harvest." — (Jer. v. 24.) — Buchanan* s Faith in God
and Modern Atheism Compared.

GERMS OF THOUGHT.

RELIGIOUS SUPERIORITY.
** The righteous is more exalted than his neighbour.'* Prov. xii. 26.
Almost everything has. its degrees. The planets have their degrees of
magnitude, the flowers their degrees of loveliness, thought its degree©
of clearness, crime its degrees of enormity, virtue its degrees of develop-
ment. Men have their degrees of intelligence, of moral worth, of practical
usefulness. An ungodly man may have his amiable, social qualities,
his commendable deeds, but **the righteous is more excellent than his
neighbour." Solomon knew human nature very well, and this is hia
testimony. With it reason, revelation, and observation agree.

I. He is superior in Spiritual Intelligence.

"But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God ; for

they are foolishness unto him : neither can he know them, because they

we spiritually discerned.'* He may possess natural parts, and understand

natural things. A strong mind, extensive knowledge, refined taste^

Digitized by VjOOQIC

366 Germs of Thought.

aecompluhed manners, bnsineBS tact, and practical enei^, may be hia.
These are natural things— things that belong to him as a rational a&d
social being. But he cannot know the things of the Spirit of God, *' because
they are spiritually discerned.** The;^ are seen through a spiritual medium,
looked at with a spiritual eje. This medium is faith, that fkith which
realises its object.

" Faith lends its realising light,
The clouds disperse, the shadows fly ! "

The eye is spiritual susceptibility, a keen sensitiveness in relation to
spiritual things. The aesthetic mind is keenly alive to the presence of the
beautiful in nature and art ; the spiritual mind is equally ready in its recog-
nition of the spiritual element. It has quick discernment and keen relish
It lives in a spiritual world, revolves around and gravitates towards a
spiritual centre, and receives spiritual enlightenment. To the spiritaal
man all is spiritual. He communes with God and Christ, and truth and
virtue, and attains unto a clearness of view, amplitude of range, and depth
of feeling peculiar to the " righteous** man. Illustrations of this are abun-
dant. Many men of average natural ability and inferior acquirements
are superior in spiritual intelligence to an ungodly man of natural talent
and learning. A natural man is spiritually dead— *^ dead in trespasses and
sins." He has eyes, but they see not, — ears, but they hear not. Spiritual
things are *' foolishness '* to him, ** because they are spiritually discemei"
The spiritual is superior to the natural in everything. Man*s spiritual
nature is his noblest part ; it links him to the unseen, to the divine, and
to the eternal. Spiiitual things are superior to natural things, spiritual
life to natural life, spiritual intelligence to natural intelligence. ^The
righteous is more excellent than his neighbour.*'

II. Hx IS SUPERIOR IN Moral Nature.

" The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." The
heart of man, in sci^iptural phrase, is the moral nature of man ; a man's
nature is himself. This nature, in every individual, is depraved. It is not
merely depravity of thought, of feeling, of emotion, or of disposition, but of
nature,

1. The nature of a " righteous ** man has been changed. He has been
** bom again,** "regenerated,** "created anew in Christ Jesus unto good
works.'* This second nature is superior to the first. It is divine, spiritual,
and holy. Nature is the ruling principle everywhere, and beyond the
control of man. All the power and skill of man cannot convert a grain of
wheat into any other kind of grain. He may pervert, he may destroy it, but
he cannot change it While it lives, the juices of the earth, the properties of
the soil, the rain, and the sunshine, are all converted into wheat, by the
power of nature, and so it is with man. Nature is supreme. A depraved
nature pollutes all ; the fountain is bad, and the streams are impure. It is the
jaundiced eye that discolours everything, the blackened hand that pollutes
everything. God alone can touch, quicken, and change nature. A godl/
man has received a new nature, become a " partaker of the divine nature."
He is a "new man," and therefore "more excellent than his neighbour."

2. His moral feelings have been sanctified and elevated. Nature con-
trols feeling, not feeling nature. Feeling is not nature ; not superior, but
subordinate to nature. A brute cannot feel like a man, its nature
ifestricts and rules otherwise. A man cannot feel like an angel for the
same reason. Nor can a -sinner feel like a saint. Their natures are
different. The one is "new,** the other "old,** one is spiritual, the other
oarnal. It is the man that feels, and he will feel like himself. " Of the

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Germs of Thought. 367

earth, earthy." An unholy man will feel unholily, the current of hia feeling
will be impure ; you may throw less foul ingredients into it, and create a
momentary ripple ; but it will soon darken into its previous pollution.
With a righteous man, the fountain is good and the stream pure. It may
be disturbed, but the main current remaining good, it will soon recover
its serenity and sanctity.

3. His thoughts are pure. Thought modifies feeling, feeling modifies
thought, nature controls do th, just as the less must be subject to the greater.
A carnal man will think of carnal things, a natural man of natural things.
A spiritual nature seeks spiritual fellowship, yields to spiritual affinities.
Thoughts of spiritual things are natural to it. God and truth and purity
and beauty, are its favourite topics. Ordinary su^ects are touched with the
wand of a spiritual nature ; baptized with a christian spirit, and thus,
'< whether he eats, or whether he drinks, or whatsoever he does, he does all
to the glory of God.^' The whole man, in nature, thought, and feeling, is
spiritusd and holy. ^' The righteous is more excellent than his neighbour.**

4. His moral relationship is of the highest kind. His new nature is
derived from God. He is a child of God according to the noblest process in
the universe. Jehovah is his Father in a gracious, peculiar, and pre-emi-
nent sense. Christ is his elder brother, with whom he is a ** joint-heir.**
Compared with this, all earthly distinctions of pedigree and rank are utterly
insignificant, almost contemptible. His relation to the moral universe is also
changed and elevated. The moral is superior both to the physical and the
rational. The righteous man has risen in the moral scale ; assumed his right
position in the moral universe. His elevation therefore is of the highest
Kind. Virtue, truth, purity, and benevolence are the principles which
nnder the dispensation of the Spirit, govern his new nature— control
himself. The ungodly are "children of wrath, heirs of hell.** They
belong to their ** father the devil,** and his " works they do." Verily, " the
righteous is more excellent than his neighbour.**

6. His enjoyment is exquisite. *' Her ways are ways of pleasantness,
and all her paths are peace.*' He possesses " righteousness, and peace, and
joy in the Holy Ghost.** His happiness is all his own, that which a renewed
nature alone can feel. It is not a notion, an excitement, but a principle of
solid, permanent joy — a perennial fountain, welling up bright, and clear,
and strong, and high. The joy of the wicked is like the crackling of thorns
under a pot; a flash, and noise, leaving smoke and ashes behind. It is
rather excitement than joy, sentient gratification tban intelligent pleasure.
It is a life-search for happiness— a prolonged struggle for joy, ending in
disappointment.

III. Hb is supbrior in Practical Usefulness.
Christ ** went about doing good,'* and he has left ^ us an example that we
should follow his steps." ** Do good unto all men,'* is the injunction rest-
ing on the righteous man. '* He that knoweth to do good, and doeth it
not, to him it is sin.** Beligion is a practical thing, gathering strength
when exposed to the fiercest blast, rather than when enshrined within the
walls of a cloister. Inactive, it will be sentimental, sickly, having a
false gloss and feverish hue ; exercised in every good word and work, it
will lukve the beauty of the olive, the strength and magnitude of the cedar.
For asefulness the righteous man has many advantages. He has clearer
views, stronger motives,, purer sympathies, a sense of duty, the approbation
of God ; he has the Spirit, the truth, and the promise. Thus furnished, he
ought to be, and is, more useful than his ungodly neighbour. The history
of every Christian nation proves this. Benevolent institutions for the poor,
the sick, the distressed, the outcast ; schemes of usefulness of various kinds,
are all the offspring of religious sentiment and feeling ; the practical
embodiment of spiritual excellence.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

368 Biography of Mr, George Stewart^ of Leeds.

IV. Hi IB SUPSRIOB IV DSSTIKT.

''Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright ! for the end of that man
is peace." ** The righteous enter into life eternal." " The path of the jast ia
like the morning light, which shines more and more unto the perfect day."
His sun sinks surrounded by accumulated glories, to rise and shine in a
brighter and purer firmament for ever and ever. The corn is ripe and
meUow, ready to be gathered into the celestial gamer. His destiny is ia
the immediate presence of Jehovah, in the plains of light, beauty, and
purity, in company with angels, and glorified spirits for ever. He is the
possessor of " a fer, more, exceeding and eternal weight of glory." "But
the ungodly is not so." He is " driven away in his wickedness " to "ever-
lasting punishment.*' Darkness and horror, anguish and despair are hispor- |
tion, hell his prison, and fiends his companions. " The righteous," in time, |
in eternity, in nature, and in destiny, in all that is good and great, pore and
true, " is more'excellent than his neighbour."

1. Let the righteous prove by lives pure and good, elevated and useful,
that they are " the excellent of the earth."

2. God alone can make men righteous. Let the ungodly go to Him at
once in faith and prayer for the blessing, and He will grant it. C.

BIOGRAPHY.
MR. GEORGE STEWART, OF LEEDS.

JSh home Life, George Stewart was born at Woodhoase, near Leeds, j
April 10th, 1834. His mother's ancestors were members of the Society of ji
Friends ; she has been a Methodist for many years. His father was by
trade a saddler, a clever workman, but the bane of his life was drink. A
short time before George was born, his mother was locked out of her home
by the father, for remaining at a meeting in Woodhouse Chapel until nine
o clock in the evening ; her only shelter was an out-house, in which she
spent the night in prayer : she received a special baptism of the Spirit
there ; and it would appear from that night of cross-bearing, that George
was sanctified from the womb. God was seen in him almost from his birth,
his mother thought him too good to lire ; his understanding astonished her;
in his questions and answers she often gazed upon him in wonder, as if she
saw something more than human. Duty seemed to dwell in her boy.

He was the priest in the house when but a child, frequently pleading
with tears for his father, reproving him for sin, entreating him to turn to
God, and he eventually led him to the Saviour : that father now sleeps in
Jesus, he died in the Lord, he was won to Christ by his child. But George's
labours were not confined to his own family. From his boyhood he preached
to all :** he was called the little preacher." And sometimes we find him
preaching with efiect. When four or five years of age, his mother lost him
and his little brother in the streets of Leeds, he knelt down on the door
step of a dock-maker's shop, in Vicar-lane, and continued in prayer that
God would send his mother unto them. The mother, not finding the chil-
dren where she had appointed to meet them, began also to prav that the
Lord would lead her to her little ones, and, as if led by an invisible gnide,
her steps were directed to the spot where her lost boys were kneeling in
prayer. On seeing her, George said, "Now, I \^as sure you would come,
mother, for we have been praying all the time that God would send yoa
unto us." When they arrived at the family meeting at Woodhouse feast,
he spoke with such solemn earnestness about God hearing prayer, and of

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr,^ George Stewart^ oj Leeds. 869

his particular proyidence, that his aunts, before whom the little preacher
stood, were melted into tears. Qis testimony on that occasion is remembered
with emotion still.

He was his mother's comforter in all her distressful way. Seeing her
weeping one morning, he enquired the cause ; ^< I have no bread to give
yoa," was the sorrowful response. " Never mind, mother, he cheerfully
replied, let us sing the morning hymn, and have faith in Gk)d." Ere long
a supply came from an unexpected source ; none ever trusted God in vain
seemed a part of that boy*s Creed. When an errand-boy, he often came
home to dinner and had to return to his work without food, but always
cheerfully to encourage his mother. In these circumstances it was not
uncommon for him to take the hungry home to be fed, if food there was—
himself taking less. He one day brought a ragged boy to his mother, and,
with her consent, entirely clothed him with the only other suit of his own.
He often took the load from the over-burdened in the street, and was ever
ready to give his arm for support to the poor, the aged, or the feeble. His,
was a sympathy the actings of which made pride blush and virtue admire.

In her neglect, he cheered and animated, and in widowhood and many
bereavements, he comforted his mother. During her second maniage, even
up to the time of his death, he sought to inspire her with the faith that
she had been united to her present husband to save him also.

George was his mother's teacher in the things of God, her earthly inter*
cessor at a throne of grace, her prop of life ; and she was his strongest tie
to earth ; and yet a few days before he died, he saw her weeping by his
hed, and enqmred, ** Why do you weep, mother." " I am afraid, George,
jon will not ffet better, we will have to part,'* she said : and he, sweetly
smiling, replied, ^ Well, mother, it be all for the best ; you must submit to
the Lord's will, and meet me in heaven. We wiU not be parted long; I will
look out for you, mother, and we will soon meet again." Her voice had a
charm for him as long as he noticed anything earthly. He died with his
hand in his mother's hand, as he had anticipated, from a piece of poetry
found in a pocket of his clothes since his death, the closing line of which
i«, " Oh, mother, take my hand in thine, this is the night of death."

All her children, except one son, are now dead ; but when Greorge went
away, she said, '* Let me die with him." Poor woman ! the husband of thy
youth, whom God forgave, and thou forgavest, and all thy children gone,
await thee in the sorrowless home of God and the Lamb.

He is spoken of in his school days by his teacher, now a medical gentle-
man, and who was as a kind father to George, as follows — " My acquaint-
ance with the late George Stewart bep^an in the year 1838, when he was
attending the Wesleyan Infant School, St. Peter-street, Leeds. He soon
became a favourite with both teacher and scholars, from his loving, gentle,
orderly, and obedient behaviour ; and those qualities continued to evince
themselves not only in his infancy and childhood, but in his subsequent
youth and manhood. In 1830 a gracious influence fell upon the children in
the school, and George was as much aflected by it as a child of his age
could well be, and by his continuing to attend the little meetings held after
school hours, and in such ways as a child might show, he gave proof
that He who loveth little children had manifested himself unto him. On
removing to another part Of the town, I lost sight of George for some time,
bat by what I then and ever since have considered a providential circum-
stance, I again found him, — but in such a condition that he was not able to
attend a school from the want of means. This was forthwith remedied bv
J friend of mine, who was with me at the time, engaging to pay his school-
fees. By this, and arrangements subsequently made, he continued at school
^niU at least well into 1844. During the greater portion, if not the whole
of the time, from 1839 to 1844, he attended a Sabbath-school, and some

2 0

Digitized by VjOOQIC

370 Biography of Mr. George Stewart^ of Leeds.

place of worship ; but his attendance at these, and also the Week-day
school, was by no means regular, owing to circnmstances at home oyer
which he had no control. This, added to a somewhat languid physical
condition, which it is to be feared arose in part from the want of suitable
nourishment, prevented him making that amount of progress in his educa-
tion which otherwise he might have done. My removal from Leeds for
three years almost broke up my acquaintance with George, but on my
return, in 1847, it was renewed, and continued up to the b^:mning of the
present year, 1857.

"By a series of plans and arrangements which I had to conduct through-
out, he was ultimately removed from the position as an errand-boy, or light-
porter, to that of an apprentice, with a gentleman in whose service he
continued as long as he lived, — and it is but justice to say, that the arrange'
ments which I made with his employer, on George's behalf, were more tkn
amply fulfilled. George was always much attached to me, and placed great
confidence in my advice, which he sought on many occasions, and, as would
be naturally expected from what has already been said, he manifested
throughout a large amount of gratitude and esteem. The delineation of
his genuine religious life and character I leave to other hands."

His Life in Business-^A draper, was such as to lead his employer fully to
trust him, and all who visited Mr. WolfiTs shop in Lower-head Bow, to res-
pect and love him. Mr. Wolff writes of him thus : — " I can speak most
emphatically of the high Christian principle constantlv manifested by our
departed friend and brother in the business of every-day life. Yery soon
aftier our connection commenced, I felt convinced I could repose the fullest
confidence in his probity and uprightness; his feeling had of late, if
possible, grown stronger. This sIboI can truly say, that in our bosmess I
never knew a more striking instance of conscientious scmpulousneBS with
regard to thorough truthfulness in actions and words ; had he been at any
time so situated, that an employer required at his hands a departure from
strict rectitude, I feel sure he would unhesitatingly have sa^ificed good

S respects in life, rather than have lent himself for a moment to a course of
eception and falsehood. If, in the providence of God, he had been spared
to bear his part in the battle of life in maturer years, I have abundant
reason for believing that it woald have been shown in his experience, that
godliness is profitable both for this life and that which is to come. He
was truly " a good and faithful servant.*'

His connection with the Church, His leader, Mr. Horton writes: ''I
have had the pleasure of knowing our late brother for many years. He
was born a^aiu of the Spirit on September 20th, 1850, in the Stone Chapel
He was a smcere follower of the Lord Jesus Christ. Some change having
taken place in the class in which he met, he joined my class in October,
1S55. Uis piety was genuine : his experience was even ; accompanied by
an ardent desire after greater love for the Saviour, and of late, an intense
longing for the mind that was in Christ, and for perfect subnussion to the
will of God. His disposition was free and open. To know him, was to
admire him. His eye beamed with light, he thirsted for knowledge, was
teachable as a little child, always ready and willing to receive any hint or
advice his friends chose to give. I know of no young man that excelled
him in this respect, and he constantly laboured to diffuse what he gained;
and yet his estimate of his own abilities was so low, that it was wii greaj
diffidence and reluctance he consented to be appointed an accredited
preacher of the Gospel. In this important work he was useful beyond
most. Love for souls possessed his being ; impelled by it he was in labonr^
more abundant, and the Lord gave him fruit in his labours. The following*
and several cases may be noted, that our brother did not labour in vain.
After speaking in the open air one Sabbath evening, he and his company

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mr. George Stewart, of Leeds, 371

repaired to a house close by to hold a prayer-meeting, when a poor, dmnkea
swearing female, who had not been in a place of worship, according to her
own statement, for twenty-three years before, having been smitten under
the word, was heard crying bitterly and earnestly for mercy : he directed
her to Jesus, and as he did so, she said, " God bless thee, lad, when thou said,
* There is a fountain filled with blood,* it came with power to my heart**
She had a hard struggle, but ultimately the sinner found her Saviour.

His companion and band-mate, James Batty, speaks of him as David of
Jonathan, *^ I became acquainted with my dear friend and companion in the
spring of the year 1853. We soon became strongly attached to each
other, and mutiuiily agreed to meet early each morning for conversation,
reading, and prayer ; here our hearts were more knit, and our love to Qod.
increased. From this early fellowship, we were generally loth to part,
and were deeply grateful to God for the privilege. We continued this prac-
tice for two years.'*

"In the beginning of the year 1855, we agreed to pray for a revival in
Lady-lane School. The Lord soon answered by saving two of the scholars,
and larger numbers followed. In the spring of the same year, we determined
to work together for €tod, as well as to pray ; and we did so until he was
laid aside to die. He then be^n to preach in the open air, commenced in
Green Street, Newtown. In this work (rod gave him liberty, and made him a
blessing. On one occasion, preaching at the bottom of Church-street, a
young woman was brought to the Saviour. On another, in speaking in the
neighbourhood of Quarry HiU, from 'a friend of publicans and sinners*--three
persons found peace with God. And in many places in the densely populated
parts of the town, as well as on Woodliouse Moor, he preached with
like success. I well remember last winter his calling on me to say he was
going to a distant place to an appointment, and asking me to pray for him,
as I was unable to accompany him. We opened our Bible at Matthew xviiL
19, and in the sight of God, and our eyes fixed upon the Saviour's word,
agreed to pray that the Lord would make his word strong. He called on
returning home about ten o'clock, drenched with wet, having walked six
miles in the rain to inform me that three souls had been saved (this night's
wetting was the cause of developing the disease of which he died). His
meekness, a&bility, and affectionate behaviour, secured for him the esteem
and love of all who knew him. To me he was a true, sincere, sympathising,
and loving friend and companion."

His inner Life is indicated by the following resolutions, found in his
pockets after his death. ** I do hereby resolve —

1. To give myself more fully to prayer. 2. To be more watchful over my
conduct and conversation. 3. To give my whole heart and soul as far as
practicable to the work of the ministry. 4. To use my utmost endeavours
to raise our church by speaking to the absent and cooling members, &c.;
and try myself to get to the various means of grace, Friday night prayer-
meeting especially. 5. To be more diligent in business, kind, courteous, and
obliging to the customers, and zealous over my master's time and interests.
God help me. Amen. Signed, George Stewart, Dec. 20th, 1856."

Having seen a good deal of him, and heard more during the last three
years, I can fully attest all that has been said of his daily life and charac-
ter ; his zeal and usefulness ; his acceptability as a preacher wherever he
went in this circuit ; his almost unequalled loveableness, and of his Christ-
like devotedness to God, and add much — but I think enough has been said
of his life, to present him as an example through grace of true discipleship,
and of filial love to his mother — such as it would be well for all young men
professing Christianity to follow, and then would the churches arise and
shine.

His last Illness and Death, In November last, he went to preach at

2c2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

MR SAMUEL FARRALL.

Oar late lamented and much respected Brother Farrall lived till he was
about twenty-five years of age in a state of forgetfulness of God, and in the
entire neglect of the interests of his precious soul. He sought pleasnre,
but found it not in the sensual indulgence of his fallen nature ; and well
might he not, that pursuit being entirely at variance with the arrange-
ment of God ; but he pursued this coarse with avidity, attending all the
low scenes of merriment he could possibly have access to ; and to arrive at
the climax of his wishes, as he vainly imagined, he must purchase and
learn the art of playing on, the violin, which proved an additional snare to
him, and which also has to thousands besides. Often has he been heard
to say, he attributed, as a mighty agent in assisting him in this career of
ungodliness, the over-indulging conduct of his parents towards him, in
allowing him to have the possession of money before he had discretion
enough to use it aright.

But the Father of Mercies, whose eyo of compassion was upon him,
arrested the wandering prodigal About the time he had attained the above

Digitized by VjOOQIC

872 Biography of Mr, Samuel FarraU,

Soaoerofty six miles distant, in a heavy rain ; preached in his wet elotber,
and, as already intimated, the disease of which he died soon began to show
itself. Whilst preaching at Headingly a short time after, be was taken ill
during the service, came nome, and li^ down to die : the doctors pronoun-
cing his case rapid consumption. Mrs. Stephenson, at whose noose he
lodged when just laid aside, and who was with him night and day after he
was borne to his mother's to die, writes thus : — " It is with melancholy
pleasure I record some of George's last words. He was not long with na, but
his kind and amiable disposition greatly endeared him to us. No mnrmur ]
escaped his lips. His patience in suffering, and his thankfulness for any thing
done for him, made it a pleasure to be with him. From the beginning of \
his affliction he rested on the will of God, either to do or to suffer ; yet ap !
to the fifth day before his death, he believed he would recover and live. On
being told he must die, it shook him not.' ' It rather startled me,' he said
— ^but added : * The Lord's will be done ; whatever is — is best. I would
rather die, than live to sin against God. I am quite ready. I am quite
willing.' I said unto him, Jesus is precious. ' ' O yes, (he replied,) Jesus
loves me with an everlasting love.' "

From this time his breathing was difficult, and his convulsions frequent, |
which rendered him unable to say much ; but when he did speak, it was
always something very pleasing. He had been the Lord's in health, the
Lord was his in death. His mind was calm, be had settled peace. He had
nothing to do but to die. Frequently he smiled sweetly, and one oocasion
broke forth— ' My God, I am thine ; what a comfort divine ; what a bles-
sing ;* here his utterance failed, the tonp^e refused its function. Having
bid his friends adieu on the da^ before his death, and entreating his brother
to meet him in heaven, he said, *' Now my work is nearly over." Shortly
after he called '^Martha," his sister, who had been dead ten months,
and beckoned with his hand, as if he saw her. From that time he noticed
no one. (Might not the dead sister's spirit be conversing with the dying
brother*s ? and he had no eye nor ear for aught seen, not even for a
mother then.) Thus, on Thursday mominff, April 16th, at half-past twelve
o'clock, he sweetly fell asleep in Jesos, at the age of twenty-three years.

His death was improved in Lady-lane Chapel, to a large and deeply
affected congregation, from John xi. 11, on Sabbath evening, May 10. His
soul is ^ with the Lord." ^ His flesh resteth in hope," for the morning of
awakening. Thos. AV. Peabson.

Becent Deaths. 373

age he was induced to go and hear a funeral sermon, preached in the Wes-
leyan Chapel by Mr. I^e, a Primitive Methodist Minister, under which he
was deeply awakened to a consciousness of his awful condition as a most
miserable sinner in the sight of God. He went home, and, for the first
time known to his family, bowed his knees ; res, that evening the humbled
aioner bowed his knees before his ofifended Father. The work begun
was rightly begun, shewing itself in a right direction, — the entire
abandonment of the ways of sin, the giving up of his old associations in
wickedness, and seriously turning his attention to the weighty concerns of
his soul ; and not the least proof that a work of grace had in reality
begun in his mind was, his allowing his much loved fiddle, which had for
years been a snare to him, to end its existence by lighting the fire. In a
state of mourning he continued for nearly three weeks, wandering in the lanes
and fields, if, perchance, he might meet with Him who had now become the
only desire of his soul. The date of his conscious acceptance we are not
acquainted witb ; but he did find acceptance and had, in common with all
who are accepted in the Beloved, to exclaim with joyous confidence, — Abba,
Father. And now being a child of God, his most intense desire was to
follow him as a dear child. How far this was the case, his life abundantly
attested, the enemies of the Cross of Christ being themselves judges. After
hanog in the spirit of hb Master endured a variety of trials, his heavenly
Father was pleased to allow his faith to be tried in the affliction which for
nine months was undermining his earthly tabernacle. Various, and some-
times Tery keen, were his feelings during that period, both ias a husband
and a father, but, on the whole, he bowed his head and said, ^ Good Lb the
word of the Lord."

The time drew near for the release of the prisoner from his house of
clay, though little expected by his friends to be so sudden. The last time
he met his class-mates he expressed a most fervent wish to enter into the
real feeling of the poet, when ** Calm on tumult's, wheels he sat." The night
previous to his death he sung, with peculiar fervour, those sweet lines —

^ When shall I see my Father's face
And in his bosom rest."

That same evening, at half-past eleven, he had a most severe attack of his
complaint, which continued through the night, the agonizing pain causing
the perspiration to fall copiously from his afflicted body. He was visited by
a friend the next morning, to whom he expressed his comfortin the thought
that he was in the hand of a loving Father, saying, at the same time, when
the agony of his flesh would allow him to speak, that though the dispensa-
tions of Providence were mostl]^ wrapped in mystery, yet, frequently, the
Lord revealed his mysteries to hiis saints here. The friend left him, hoping
he might have a little respite from pain and doze a little. Little did he
think the awful moment was so near ; in a short time he was sent for only
to behold the last faint gasp of him who was going to behold the face of
Uim, whom not having seen, for seventeen years he had loved. The word
had gone forth, " Come up hither." Precious in the sight of the Lord is
the death of his saints. Amen.

Thus lived and died our dear brother, Samuel Farrall, leaving his widow
and five children to mourn over their loss. Their loss, however, is his
gain.

RECENT DEATHS.

Died, at Bradford, June 21st, Mrs. Elizabeth Banks. She was born in
Leeds, in the year 1808, and was first awakened to a sense of her lost condi-
tion as a sinner in our Park Chapel in that town, and soon after, while

Digitized by VjOOQlC

874 Recent Deaths.

pleading for mercy in a prayer-meeting, was made the subject of Baving
grace. The year following her conversion she was united in marriage to
Mr. G«orge Banks. Fifteen years ago they came to reside in Bradford,
when they at once identified themselves with the Wesleyan Association in
this Circuit, of which they have ever since both been consistent and useful
members. Daring the month of January last unmistakeable symptoms of
disease manifested themselves. Medical aid was procured, and, as soon as
the weather permitted, change of air was tried, and she seemed con-
siderably revived. Her improved state of health, however, was but of
short duration. A relapse took place, and in the commencement of
the present month (June), she was again confined to bed. Additional
medical aid was called in, and everything was done that skill could devise
and affection prompt to lessen her pain and prolong her life. Daring this
affliction her mind was evidently being loosened from earth and earthly
objects. Aforetime, like Martha of Bethany, she was not unfrequently
*^ troubled about many things.*' Now settled peace, sweet contentment, and
quiet resignation to the Divine will seemed to be her happy enjoyment
Still she felt the ties of natural affection ; these were strong, and needed a
Divine hand properly to loose them. On this subject, on the Thursday prior
to her death, she saia to a friend (Mr. Pollard, her husband's partner, and
local preacher in the New Connexion), <* I believe I shall have to leave my
family at this time* I feel I have three strong cords to hold me here— my
husband, and my two children." When urged to commit her family to the
Lord's care, she answered, ** I do," and expressed a hope '* that the family
would continue united together, and that though separated now, they might
all meet in heaven." Her affliction now assumed a most threatening ap-
pearance, and her pain was severe. But not a murmur escaped her lips,
flhe felt it was her heavenly Father's hand that held the rod. She was fre-
quently visited by her minister, (the Eev. T. Newton,) and her leader, (Mr.
Croxall,) and expressed her thankfulness for their kindness, their visits
being blessed by God to the removal of some doubts, with which, for a short
season, the advcrsarv had been permitted to buffet her. On the Saturday
night it became still more apparent to those around that the lamp of life
was surely and quickly, though gently, dying out. About half an honr
4)efore she died, Mrs. Myers (her nurse, and member of the same class), said
to her during a paroxysm of pain, *' It is hard work, Mrs. Banks, but joa
will soon be in that happy world where there is no pain." " Yes, I shaH,"
was the reply, " You have no doubt of it^" continued Mrs. M. •'No, not
the least" ** To know that is worth a thousand worlds," added her attend-
ant. ^*Yes, it is, it is," responded the dying saint. This conversation
occurred about half-past two oVlock on Sabbath morning, hdf an hour
before her happy spirit proved *' what it is to be there." She was now on
the verge of the eternal world, yet her sensibility continued to the last. Her
husband and children, with two or three others, entered the room to witness
her last moments. For her sake all outward expression of^ grief was sup-
pressed, though hard was the task which necessity and affection combined
to impose. A few silent and solemn moments were passed, and then, in the
stillness of the night season, and just as the Sabbath — glorious type of an
eternal Sabbath — began to dawn, her ranson^d spirit winged its way to the
regions of celestial glory. So still was her departure out of this life, so
unruffled by sigh or groan was her death, that it may truly be said of her,
** She fell asleep in Jesus."

'< One gentle sigh the spirit gave,

Quick was the way and short the road s
We scarcely knew that she was gone :
3he shut her eyes, and saw her God."

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Scenes in the Early Church. 875

BiED, on the 8th June, Brother T. Dewsnnp, aged sixty-six. He had been a
consistent member of Society twenty-two years, and a Leader ten years;
As a visitor of the sick his love of souls led him into great danger, especially
during the time of cholera in Manchester. His bodily pain was great, but
his end was peace. Some of his last words were, ** I am on the Rock." «* I
see a bright star, but it will soon be brighter.'* His spirit was thankful,
humble, and devout; his life was Christ; his death gain.

" He set as sets the morning star,
Which goes not down behind the darkened west,
Nor hides obscured amongst the tempests of the sky,
But melts away into the fight of heaven."

His death was improved in Lever-street Chapel by the Rev. H. Tarrant, on
Sunday evening, June 21. T.

SCENES IN THE EARLY CHURCH.

THE CATACOMBS.

There are few things more interesting in the history of the early Chiia^
tian Church, than those subterraneous galleries which served so long to the
faithful, as a refuge from persecution, and a resting-place in death.

The Catacombs were originally pits from which tne sand used in making
cement was taken, and before the time of Augustus it had been dug in
considerable quantities from beneath the EsquUine ; already had the ex-
cavations become dangerous from their extent, the robbers who infested
them, and pestilential from the dead bodies thrown in unburied, until they
were purihed and formed into gardens by Maecenas. In process of time
the quarries extended under the whole of one side of Rome, to a dis-
tance of fifteen miles, and had many entrances from the Campagna. Afber^
wards, when the Christians were accustomed to retire for safety to these
passages, they continued to excavate larger and more regular ones, called
new crypts. These winding galleries are from eight to ten feet high, and
five or six wide, having graves cut in the volcanic sandy rock of the sides ;
occasionally the graves are double, leaving room for the wife or relative of
the first inmate. The cavities are covered with slabs of stone, having in-
scriptions rudely cut and often ill-spelt ; the letters are coloured with
fed paint, and are from half an inch to three inches in height. Altogether
it is computed that there are about 70,000 inscriptions remaining.

The entrance to the Catacombs has been described as being " a descend-
ing path with winding steps, leading through the dim tummgs ; and the
dajhght entering by the mouth of the cavern somewhat illumines the first
part of the way. But the darkness grows deeper as we advance, till we
meet with openings cut in the roof of the passages, admitting light from
ahove." Here, amongst such scenes, were celebrated the most solemn
rites of their holy faith, the eucharist, baptism, and the beautiful and
touching Agapae, or love-feasts ; when the members of the early Church
brought their simple oblations, consisting chiefly of food, of which a part
was set aside for the support of their pastor and the remainder was eaten
by all, rich and poor joining at one table, while hymns were sung by a
choir. It was to this custom that Pliny alluded in his celebrated letter to
the Emperor Trajan, where he says that the Christians were accustomed to
meet together, eating in common, while they sang hymns to Christ as to a
God. There was a picture found in a subterranean chapel representing
one of these " feasts of charity," presided over by Peace and Love (Irene
and Agape).

It is aLso certain that some who sought refuge in these vaults, were dis-

Digitized by VjOOQlC

876 Scenes in the Early Church.

covered and martyred by their parsners: Amongst tbeae were two biahopi
ot Rome, Xystus and Stephen, the former in the Decian peraecation. Alio
in the time of Diocletian, Cains is said to have spent eight yean in the
Catacombs, and to have at last suffered death.

It would not be uninstructive to compare the difference of a Fagan and
a Christian funeral ; the one with its long and splendid procession,— the
wailing mourners,— the buffoons, — the illustrious train of tma^tn«s, or an-
cestral effigies ; — and the pompous funeral oration : the other with its
train of weeping friends, bearing in darkness and in silence their departed
brother to his rest in these dark and gloomy caves. The one with no hope
to brighten or to suggest to his friends are-union in a happier world, whose
parting valediction, exquisitely beautiful in itself, has yet reference only to
the senseless body;* and to whom the words engraven on the Urn eontam
only aceusations of that fortune which snatched them so soon from the
pleasures of this world.

Here is an epitaph from the Lapidarian Gallery, in the Vatican^

« CAIUS JULIUS MAXIHUB,

(aged)
2 years and 5 months.

" O relentless Fortune ! who delightest in cruel Death,
Why is Mazimus so suddenly snatched from me 7
He, who lately used to lie joyful on my bosom.
This stone now marks his tomb —behold his mother .'"
Another—

" 1, Procope, lift up my hands against Ood, who snatched away my
innocent. She lived^O years. Proclus set up this."

How different is the sentiment of this Christian one. Part of the in-
scription has been destroyed (to quote Maitland*s eloquent words), ** As &r
as perishable marble is concernea ; but the immortal sentiment which pe^
vades the sentence supplies the loss. Like a voice from among the graves,
broken by sobs, yet distinctly intelligible, fall the few remaining words
upon the listening ear : — * who gave and hath taken— blessed — of the Lord
—who lived — years— in peace — in the Consulate of—."

It has well been remarked, that the Church appears in a better light
from the inscriptions in the Catacombs, than in the pages of Ecclesiastical
history, or in the writings of the Fathers. Here are none of the conteD-
tions, and hair-splitting heresies, which so troubled its repose, but all
breathe humility, and true Christian charity. Some of the inscriptioniare
beautiful in their dmplicity —

" VicTORiNA sleeps."
Also

" LoTious here laid to sleep."

" YiRoiNius remained but a short time with ns."

There are comparatively few memorials of the persecutions, only fiw
epitaphs having been discovered which can, with certainty, be referred to
martyrs. This one is the earliest, Marius having suffered under Adrian—
" In Chrtbt.— In the time of the Emperor Adrian, Marius, a young
military officer, who had lived long enough, when with blood be
gave up his life for Christ. At leneth he rested in peace. The well-
deserving set up this with tears and in fear. On the 6th, before the
Ides of-"

• * Ave ! atUma Candida, terra tibi levis sit, moliter cubent ossa,

(Hitil to thee^ pure spirit ! may earth lie light upon thee, aad may thy
bones repose softly.)

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Portrait Gallery. 377

The next belongs to the year 160.

** In Christ. — Alexander is not dead, but lives above the stars, and
his body rests in this tomb. He ended his life under the Emperor
Antoninus, who, foreseeing that great benefit would result from his
services, returned evil for good. For, while on his knees, and about
to sacrifice to the true God, he was led away to execution. O sad
times ! in which, among sacred rites and prayers, even in caverns,
"we are not safe. What can he more wretched than such a life ? and
what than such a death? when they cannot be buried by their
friends and parents— at length they sparkle in heaven. He has
scarcely lived, who has lived in Christian times."

This one belongs to the persecution under Diocletian —

" Primitius in peace, after many torments, a most valiant martyr. He
lived 38 years, more or less. His wife raised this to her dearest
husband, the well deserving.*'

Nearly all the inscriptions begin with the monogram of Christ, and have
the palm branch. It has been said by some that this sign was only
invented after the conversion of Constantino, but it has been discovered on
many tombs seemingly of earlier date. Many symbols are used to express
the name of Christ, among these was a fish, the Greek word for fish
(ichthys) being the initials of Jesus Christ, Son of God, the Saviour. He
is also designated as the Alpha and Omega, The Church was represented
hy a ship sailing heavenward. Among the signs are the dove with the
olive branch and that of an anchor. There are bas-reliefs on sarcophagi, re-
presenting Jonah ; Noah in the ark ; the denial of Peter ; the raising of
Lazarus ; and many events both in the Old and New Testaments.

This short and imperfect sketch can scarcelv be better closed, than in
the sublime words of the Church : " The noble army of martyrs praise
Thee ; the holy Church throughout all the world doth acknowledge Thee.**

Sigma.

PORTRAIT GALLERY.

OLIVER CROMWELL.

Oliver was the first Englishman of his times, and he realised the idea of
Uniting the three kingdoms more closely than even James the First and
Second efiTected. He asserted and secured the supremacy of the seas, and
may be said to have founded that colonial empire which in two hundred
years has grown into the largest dominion, in pomt of space, ever held under
one crown.

Oliver Cromwell was bom in the last year of the sixteenth century. He
lived for more than forty years as a quiet English gentleman, at Hunting-
don, the place of his birth. If his lot had been cast in peaceable times, he
might have lived and died unknown, except to his little circle of friends
and neighbours.

We naturally suppose that Cromwell was not an ambitious man, from
the long period of his life that passed before his name was written in English
history ; but such men need an opening, and that came to him at last.
Charles the First was an arbitrary monarch, with high notions of his pre-
rogatives, and deeply imbued with his father*8 ideas of the divine right of
kings. The Stuart race— undoubtedly a brilliant race at their origin, and
for several generations afterwards — were ruined by the frivolity of James
the First and Charles the Second, and by the bigotry of Charles the First

Digitized by VjOOQIC

378 Portrait Gallery.

and James the Second, The first Charles endeavoured to rale without a
parliament. like Eehoboam, he followed the counsels of foolish politidans.
He inclined from his youth to the Boman Catholic faith. He could not be
expected to negotiate faithfully with a Parliament whose authority he
denied ; while acting under the guidance of men whose morals were fomid-
ed on expediency and passion.

The Parliamentary and the Royalist party came to hostilities. For
seven years the land was ravaged by war, as in the contests of the Hoses.
Quiet country places were ruined by the meeting of great armies. We
think, perhaps too little and too thanklessly, of the men who bled and suf-
fered to establish that civil and religious freedom, and those constitutional
principles, that rendered the general election of the present year an event
regarded with interest in every city from the Ganges to the Missouri.

In all these battlings, Oliver Cromwell never shrank from danger, never
swerved in counseL The hearts of many fell, as one leader after another
disappeared in dungeon or in field ; but he was firm. A man of strong
domestic affections and home thoughts, whose gentle daughter swayed him
in his hardest moods, and never Siiled but once, he saw the flower of his
family buried in a soldier's grave, slain, as he believed, in curbing tyran-
nical power ; but he persevered, and drilled those terrible soldiers, the
Ironsides, whose achievements were never surpassed in English history,
met and struck down the fierce charges of the fiery Bupert with his chival-
ric cavaliers, and overwhelmed them at last in defeat and ruin.

The death of Charles the First followed on the scaffold at Whitehall
The responsibility of that sentence and its execution has been thrown on
Oomwell, and he has been blamed more intensely by many writers, than
those who review the history of subsequent revolutions will consider just,
even while they deeply regret the occurrence. He undoubtedly deemed
that death essential to the establishment of English freedom. In our time
a capital conviction, in similar circumstances, would be considered unneces-
sary. Nevertheless, those who read the history of the terrible war that
preceded that event, and the comparative peace which followed in the
middle of the seventeenth century, and who read again the sadder story
still of a somewhat similar event at the close of the eighteenth century
in France, and the frightful wars by which it was followed, must acknow-
ledge that even in a vengeance that they may consider culpable, the
distinction between men usually actuated by Christian principle, even if
then and often forgetting its requirements, and men always abandoned to
their own passions, is very great.

Oliver Cromwell has been called ambitious, but his ambition, if it existed,
must have been consistent with the prosperity of the country; for he
defended its interests, increased its power, and made that power a shield to
Protestants oppressed and persecuted in all parts of Europe.

His tenure of power was short, but he found the State without a foreign
policy, except subserviency to France, and he raised it to a dignity ^hicb,
for many long years after his death it did not again attain.

The faith of Cromwell has been styled hypocrisy by his enemies. We
believe them not. Has the painter-rendered rightly the features and form
of that head ? Hypocrisy seems to have no place there. They denote a
man of massive intellect, somewhat stem and troubled, but neither fanatic
nor hypocrite. One would say that many dark hours had left their marks
upon that brow ; but the portrait does not give us the idea of a cruel, or a
deceptive, or a 'mean, or a selfish individual ; but a firm and intellectual,
and somewhat sorrowful man, who might well be Premier of England.

That memory comes down to us often associated with desperate struggles
and garments rolled in blood, yet we would rather think of Oliver Crom-
well as the able statesman, the truthful diplomatist, the honest champion

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Portrait Gallery. 379

of oppressed Protestantism ; the Poritan in his home, in his life, in his
mornrng and evening hours ; the friend of Milton, and of all their solemn
conferences, with the conviction that the master of that secretary, and the
l&ther whom that daughter so easily moved and so deeply loved, was not
by choice a man of blood.

Some antiquarians have demonstrated, or believed that they demonstra-
ted, that Charles Stuart and Oliver Cromwell were men of the same
descent and relatives. We prefer to think of him as an English gentleman,
the representative of our middle classes, who feared God, — although, like
ail men, he lived not without sin ; and as one who found, in 1683, at death,
the happiest change that his changefal life had ever known.

How strong feehngs break down all natural obstacles ! Of all great men,
probably there was never one so unUke an orator — so unfitted for all formal
eloquence as Cromwell ; but you see what he became when the strong
spirit wrought within him — when passion was up, and the moment of inspira-
tion was upon him. Speaking in a company, even when he desired to be
understood, it seems to us it must have sometimes been a difficult task to
follow him. His speech went sauntering along, and sometimes it seems to
us to get into the hedge on one side, and sometimes into the ditch on the
other. He seems to us to have been gifted with a secretiveness so won-
derful, that he used public speech as a means for feeling his way to the
state of his auditors' minds. But if you want to see the inspiration of
speech, look at him on anv of his great battle fields ! Especially look at
him at Dunbar — look at all the mingled fire in that rugged face, as its eve
watches the false movements of the Scots on the hill yonder! — "Ah! the
Lord hath delivered them into our hands ! ** While the sea moans, and the
dark clouds roll, and the roar of cannon breaks on the ear ! Hark ! over the
reg:iments, that voice — the voice so savage — so earnest — inflexible — cruel I
The voice as of David charging at the head of the Israelites against the
Philiatines. "The Lord of the Hosts!— the Lord— the Lord of Hosts!"-—
And while the battle rages, and the shrieks and screams rends the air — as
the glorious suu shows his front over the scene, scattering the night clouds,
and the twilight clouds, see the wild warrior, hurrying along from rank to
rank, through the thick storm of the fight, pointing his baton and his sword
to the rising sun, and shouting — •* Now, let God arise, and let his

ENEMIES BE SCATTEBED J AND LET THEM ALSO THAT HATE HIM FLEE BEFORE

HIM." We can for our part well believe, that the spectacle of such a man
as that fiery soldier struck a pause into the hearts of opposing hosts. His
voice must have been like a tolling bell, ringing doom and dismay over the
hosts against whom he thundered, shrieked, and screamed. Cabinet,

GEORGE WHITFIELD.

Whitfield was a born orator. He was not remarkable as a scholar, or as a
theologian ; but he was, in some respects, the most wonderful, and the most
successful preacher that England ever saw. His face was a language ; his
gestures of themselves said more than other men's aptest words; his fluency
was unequalled ; his voice was so wonderfully modulated, that Garrick said
he would make them either laugh or cry by pronouncing the word Meso-
potamia ; and such was the ardour of his spirit, as to sustain him through
twelve or fourteen of his wonderful eflbrts, every week, for months
together. He could quell the most savage, fire the most listless, interest
the most stupid, and charm the most philosophic. When a crowd of
ten or fifteen thousand people was assembled on Kennington Common,
^ unrivalled voice would enable every one to hear every word ; still-
iieis prevailed like that of death, interrupted now and then by a piercing
outcry, or an irrepressible hallelujah. All opposition, for the time,
quailed before him. At Exeter a ruffian came prepared to knock him on

Digitized by VjOOQIC

380 Indian Past and Present

the head with a great atone. The aennon affected him to, that the
stone dropped from hb hand. Then his heart melted. After the ser-
vice he went to Whitfield, and said, with tears, ' Sir, I came to break
your head, hat God has given me a broken heart' Persecution, in high
quarters, only stimulated his energies and increased his usefhlneBS. la
one week, when shut out of the churches entirely, he took the fields, and
received not fewer than a thousand letters, from persons who had been
awakened or comforted under his preaching. No huUding could afford foil
scope for his powers ; field preaching was his delight and glory. He went
into Bartholomew fair — a Quixotic undertaking, as it was thought, cTen for
him. The shows and booths were deserted, and he records, ' Soon after,
three hundred and fifty awakened soub were received into the society in one
day ; and numbers that seemed, as it were, to have been bred up for Tybnmi
were plucked as brands from the burning.* Four times he visited America,
where his labours and success were as great as in England. When he
became Lady Huntingdon's chaplain, many leading personages came to her
drawing-room to hear him ; such as Bolingbroke, Chesterfield, David Home,
Walpole, Selwyn, and Pitt. He made a deep impression upon almost all
these illustrious men. Lord Bolinp;broke — who will not be suspected of bdj
leaniag toward religion — said of him, ' He is the most extraormnary man of
our times. He has the most commanding eloquence I ever heard in any
person ; his zeal is unquenchable.* Yet he was not himself on these occa-
sions. The mighty herald could not blow his trumpet in a drawing room;
and, accordingly, after a month of such work, we find him too ill to hold a
pen. Instead of consulting a doctor, he starts for Portsmouth, preaches on
the day after his arrival to some thousands of people, and is himself again.
Whitfield was trulv and thoroughly a good man. He combined the ferronr
of a seraph with the humility of a little child. Few men have been more
misrepresented ; but, though his temper was warm, no instance is on record
of his returning evil for evil. He fully understood his mission, which vas
that of a voice crying in the wilderness. He had not Weslev's genius for
organisation, and attempted little in that way. '* If I formed societies," he
said, ** I should but weave a Penelope's web. Every thing I meet with
seems to carry this voice with it, * Go thou and preach the Gospel ; be a
pilgrim on earth ; have no party or certain dwelling-place.' My heart
echoes back, * Lo^d Jesus help me to do or suffer thy wiU. When thou secst
me in danger of nestling, in pitv — in tender pity, put a thorn in my nest, to
prevent me from it.' " He dued in America, worn out by thirty years' ex-
nausting and incessant labours. He seems to belong equally to us all ; and
his name is cherished, as that of a brother, by men of every section of the
church, to this day.

INDIA, PAST AND PRESENT.

Mr. Mabshman, son of the late Dr. Marshall, had this for his motto at a
recent meeting in Exeter Hall. He said —

" I shall trouble you with some observations on India, prior and sub-
sequent to the Missionary enterprise. The subject has been already intro-
duced to your notice in the happiest manner by your noble chaurman, and
nothing is left for me except to give you some details of the progress of
moral courage among the Governments of India, and the moral improvement
among the people generally. It is befitting that, in the sixty-fourth anni-
versary of the Baptist Missionary Society, there should be a comparison
. instituted between the state and condition of India before the Misaionaiy
^ enterprise commenced, and the condition which it now exhibits ; and that

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Indioy Past and Present 381

not with any spirit of boastfal exultation, but in order, from the comparison,
to gather the strongest arguments for redoubling our efforts for its improve-
ment. Before I advert to the improvement which is exhibited in the circles
of Native society in India, it is necessary, for a few minutes, to notice the
great and beneficial change which has taken place in the views and senti-
ments of those who are appointed to govern the country. The first and
most serious obstacle to the introduction of Divine truth into India lay in
the prejudice of the India House, which was, at one time, as strong as those
of the people against the reception of Divine truth. The first step towards
improvement was to remove this prejudice, and to open the door for the
introduction of the Gospel into India on the part of those to whom Parlia-
ment had committed the interests of the country. It is delightful to reflect
how these prejudices gradually melted away, and there cannot be a more
gratifying contrast to us, whether as Christians or as Englishmen, than that
which is presented between the prejudices existing among the public autho-
rities of this country, whfle this society was in its cradle, and those senti-
ments of goodwill by which they are now animated. The first reference
which appears ever to have been made to the subject of evangelising tho
heathen, m the House of Commons, was during the Charter discussions of
1792, when an illustrious individual, the sweet tones of whose voice have so
freqaentlv thrilled through these assemblies, after having endeavoured to
destroy the fetters of the slave in the West Indies, determined also to break
the fetters of superstition in the East — I allude to the late William Wilber-
force. He proposed the following resolution to the House : — ' That it is the
opinion of this House that it is the peculiar and bounden duty of the Legis-
lature to promote, by all just and prudent means, the interest and happi-
ness of the British dominions in the East ; and that, for these ends, such
measures ought to be adopted as m^^j greatly tend to their advancement in
useful knowledge, and to their religious and moral improvement* To the
surprise of all who took an interest in the welfare of India, this resolution
encountered the strongest opposition in the Court of Directors and in the
Court of Proprietors. It was then discovered, for the first time, that those to
whom the administration of affairs in the East had been entrusted by Par-
liament had imbibed the opinion that nothing would so tend to damage
British interests in India, and particularly the interests of the East India
Company, as any attempt to introduce secular or divine knowledge among
the people. The Court of Proprietors met in a frenzy of anxiety, and, with
the exception of one individual, the first Treasurer of the Bible Society (Mr.
Thompson), they unanimously denounced and rejected the proposal, and
drew up a petition to the House of Commons, depi-ecating, in the strongest
manner, Mr. Wilberforce's resolution. The debate in the India House is
amongst the most singular documents in our Indian history. In the Com-
mons Mr. Wilberforce was met by the same spirit of opposition ; and Mr.
Fox said he objected to the whole measure, because he considered all
schemes of proselytism wrong in themselves, and productive, in most cases,
of mischief. And he thought the present age far too enlightened to think
of making proselytes. Such were the feelings entertained here in 1793,
just at the time when Dr. Carey was embarking in the vessel which con-
veyed him to the shores of India. Unfortunately these feelings were too
strongly reciprocated by the members of the Government in India. I will
give you one instance of the interruptions to which the operations of the
Missionaries were subjected. In 1806, Sir George Barlow became Governor-
General of India, by the death of Lord Cornwallis; and in that year the
Serampore Missionaries first ventured to preach in Calcutta. As soon as
information of it reached the Governor-General, Dr. Carey was desired to
attend the police, and the magistrate informed him that he was directed by
the Governor-General to say, that, as the Governor himself did not interfere

Digitized by VjOOQIC

382 India f Past and Present

T?ith the prejudices of the natives, he reqaired that the Missionaries should
not interfere with them. The magistrate signified that the Missionaries
were not to preach to the natives, nor suffer the native converts to preach ;
that they were not to distribute religiouH tracts, nor suffer other people to
distribute them ; that they were not to send forth converted natives, nor
take any steps to persuade the natives to embrace Christianity. At the
same time the magistrate said they were satisfied with the character and de-

})ortment of the Missionaries, against whom no complaint had ever been
edged. This, of course, put an end to the operations of the Missionaries in
Calcutta, but through the intervention of Mr. Brown and Mr. Buchanan,
clergymen of the Church of England, the order was modified ; but in the
very next year, on the arrival of Lord Minto, the same course of annoy-
ance and interruption was pursued ; and although the Missionaries re-
sided under a foreign jurisdiction, over which the British Crovernment had
no control, they were obliged to submit every tract that was published to
the revision and the censorship of the Governor's secretary before it was
circulated. In the course of the year Lord Minto wrote to the Coart of
Directors, advising them to use still more strenuous means to prevent
what he called the surreptitious resort t)f Missionaries to India. Yon
will be happy to learn that this state of things has been entirely changed.
The Government of India now recognises that it holds that Empire,
not for any selfish purpose, but for the improvement of its inhabitants!
and they find that in this career of improvement, the Missionaries are
amongst the most important of their auxiliaries. Let me give you one instance.
You recollect that there was lately an insurrection in the east of Bengal,
among the tribe called the Santals ; the rebellion was put down and tran-
quillity was restored, but Government considered that, as soon as those tribes
were aisarmed, it was their duty to prevent another outbreak, by intro-
ducing among them the principles of civilisation, and they could devise bo
better means than that of enlisting in this cause Missionary agency. The
whole of the Santal tribes have now been made over to one of the Missionary
bodies in India, with the most liberal offer of schools, and of all the other
machinery of civilisation and conversion. Let me now refer to the effect
which has been produced upon the minds of the Natives by the introduction
of true principles among them. First, I would allude to the 8acri6ce of
children at Sawgur. From time immemorial the Natives had been in the
habit of going thither and drowning their children, in pursuance of snper-
stitious vows. Lord Wellesley, one of the most illustrious men we hare
ever had in India, was resolved to put an end to this practice. At his reqne^t
Dr. Carey drew up a report on the subject ; the effect was soon visible in
the passing of a resolution in July, 1802, positively prohibiting the practice;
and a body of Hindoo sepoys was sent to the place to see that the order was
obeyed. The practice ceased immediately and for ever ; and after, this
circumstance was brought forward as an argument for putting down the
rite of female immolation, the Natives themselves had become so thoroughly
ashamed of it, that the most influential and learned. persons in Oalcotta
actually denied that such a practice had ever existed among them. But
with regard to the practice of female immolation, this was one of the reli-
gious usages which Government did not then venture to touch. I believe
the subject was first brought forward in 180S, in a memorial to Lord Wel-
lesley. Serampore Missionaries laboured long and earnestly to suppress this
custom, and at length, in 1830, after twenty-five years of agitation, that
illustrious nobleman, Lord William Bentinck, by an act of the Government
of India, put an end to it. Before the missionary enterprise, hundreds oi
widows were annually sacrificed upon the funeral pile ; and by a refinement
of cruelty, the torch was lighted by the eldest son ; whereas, after the in-
troduction of this enterprise into India, this rite, which had two thousana

Digitized by VjOOQIC

IndiOy Past and Present 383

years of prescription to back it» has been absolutely prohibited: There is
another rite, also, "which has been gradually falling into disuse — I allude to
the swinging festival, in which men in frantic devotion are swung round a
pole with hooks to their backs, amidst the s*houts of the mob ; one of the
most brutalising of Hindoo practices. Perhaps one of the 'greatest curses
in India, and one of the greatest sources of crime, has been the lave of the
Shaster, by which the marriage of widows is absolutely prohibited. Through
the growing intelligence of the upper classes, however, there has been of
late a spirit of opposition to this time-honoured rite ; and petitions have
been sent to the legislative councils, numerously signed by the natives
themselves, without any promptinff, I believe, from Europeans, requesting
that an act should be passed to legalise the marriage of widows, and to
endow their o£&pring with all the rights of succession. This act was passed
about twelve months ago ; and since that time we have had the extraordi-
nary spectacle in the capital of British India, of two marriages of widows
in families of the highest social respectability. Thus it may be seen, that
we have, as it were, unfossilised the Hindoo mind, and given such an impulse
of improvement to it as is likely to produce the most beneficial results.
The last point to which I would refer is that of education, the rock on which,
according to the statement of the standing counsel in 1792, the empire wa»
to spht. Since that time, we have been going on with all our sails set upon
that rock, and the bark which contains the fortunes of British India has not
yet split Instead of considering the education and improvement of the
people as one object which we should avoid, the Government now considers
it as one of its most imperative duties. There has been lately an Order in
Council to establish a university in Calcutta, upon the model of the Univer-
sity of London ; and we find in a long list of names the first functionaries of
Government, the most learned and influential natives of India, and the
chiefs of all the Missionary institutions in Bengal, associated at the same
council board. Moreover, those who had received an education at our
colleges, whether Missionary or Government, have opened schools for th&
instruction of their countrymen, and hundreds of them are now receiving
there the knowledge of European sciences and languages, which shall enable
them to take honourable degrees in the University that has been founded*
This impulse is now extended to the North-west provinces, which, with
regard to Bengal, are generally considered in the same light as that in which
Sparta stood to Athens. At Agra, about two-and-a-half years ago, a native
of rank and influence determined to establish female schools. That which
the Missionaries had found the most difficult of all things this man under-
took without any reference to external aid, and so successful was he, that
there are now in the North- Western provinces no fewer than ninety-five
girls' schools, and under the energetic government of Mr. Colvin, the greatest
exertions have been made for the prom^ion of education among the people^
who voluntarily submit to a school-rate in addition to the sum which the
Government has a right to demand of them. I will not say that all these
improvements are to be traced directly to Missionary efibrts, but this fact is
indispntable, that at an early period the Government of India, from a feel*
ing of selfish timidity, was most strongly opposed to the admission of any
knowledge, secular or divine, into the country. The Missionaries were the
first to venture there to establish schools, to print tracts, to preach to the
people, and to do everything necessary for the introduction of Christianity.
They met with the most determined opposition, but they continued to per-
severe in their labours until, in 1813, chiefly through the aid of the Mis-
sionary Societies, Parliament was constrained to open the gates of India te
the introduction of the Gospel. I say, therefore, that it is owing to the
Missionary enterprise that we are enabled to see that change in the views
and conduct of the Government which is so gratifying in itself, and so pro^
ductive of beneficial results.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

i

384
DOMESTIC ASSOCIATIONS.

CHRISTIAN FREDERIC SWARTZ.

" The glory of God ia an object worth living for ;" so thought a godly
woman, as she lay on her death -bed, and basy memory was leading her
thoughts back over the years she h&d lived, and forws^ to the eternity
on which she was soon to enter. The shades of evening were creeping
over the earth, the sighing of the wind among the trees seemed to speaK of
sorrow, and in the fail of the brown leaves of autumn might be heard the
words, ** We all do fade as a leaf.** Dim and dreary looked all outward
things ; but in that chamber of the dying there was light, and hope, and
joy. The soul had, long before, found its peace with God, through the
blood of Jesus ; and now, when crossing the dark waters, it lay back in
His arms, and was held gently and sweetly, waiting till the light appeared
on the other side. But the mother's heart was still there, and it was
working ; and its work was prayer. There were the little children, whom
she knew Jesus loved. ** Lord, Thou hast taken me and washed me from
my sins^wilt Thou not take those little ones, whom Thou hast given me I
This one, Lord, my first-born son, I give him to Thee ; use him in Thy ser-
vice, let him be a little SamueL'* It is this little boy, thus dedicated to
God by his godly mother, whose life and work we wish to trace. Yoa
may have heard of him, for the name of the righteous is held in everlasting
remembrance. He is known as Christian Frederic Swartz.

His mother died and was buried, but no immediate result seemed to
follow the dedication and the prayers. Yet he was a hopeful child ; and
his father resolved he should be well furnished with weapons of warfare in
a Christian education. Time would show if he could use them. He was,
therefore, kept busy and diligent in a grammar school at Halle.

It is sweet to think of this young German lad, as he wended his way
from his home to this school, while the light breezes fanned his manly
cheek, and played among his dark locks, his thoughts being busy, busy
with the future, as he wondered what God would have in store for him.
Might not a tree, a shrub, a flower, a sound of music, or the old familiar
ros^, recall his mother's last wish concerning him ; and while his eyes
might seem fixed on some passing object, they might only see in vision
that dear wasted form, and feel those hot, shadowy fingers, as they lay on
his head, as she gave him up unto God ; or his whole soul might go out in
rayer, that God would accept that offering, and make him His servant ?

o be of use in the work of God, that work must begin in the man's own
soul ; and love to God must grow so strong that it cannot be restrained
from telling to others what a Saviour Jesus is, and how willing He is to
save sinners, even the chief. The ^ore love, the greater the wish to tell
of the love of Jesus, even where Satan has his seat.

In the year 1742, a pale-faced, worn-out man came and. took up his
abode in Halle. ^^ What is your new neighbour*s name ?" would asK one
woman of another. " Schultz 1" was the answer ; " and though he is so HI,
he will not rest, but writes on continually, and they say he gets nothing for
all he does." " A foolish man," would the womau say, if she lived only for
this world. But she was wrong, for no man works for nothing. The Bible
says, '* The wages of sin is death." Let us therefore seek to keep far from
it, Schultz worked for God. He was an Indian [Missionary, driven from
his post by bad health ; yet he wished to do something for the saving of
the souls of those to whom he feared he would not again preach of the un-
searchable riches of Christ. He thought he would print a new edition of
the Bible in their language — Tamil. God works through means— and
now, Swartz, this is a step on in the journey for you ! Swartz is asked to

?:

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Domestic Associations. 385

learn the Tamil language, that he may help the good missionary in his
work. This would necessarily bring him much in contact with the godly
man, and the fire of love in the heart of SSchultz for the Indian nation,
crushed under the power of lying vanities, reached the young warm blood
of Swartz, and lay smothered up in his own heart till God's time came to
call it forth.

While his heart mused on this word of God, " Go ye and preach the
Gospel to all nations," a voice came over the mighty waters, crying out,
" Our land is a glorious one— we are a mighty people ; but we are dying
in our sins — bowing down to stocks and stones, in which is no help found.
Come, all ye that love the Lord, come and help us— send us men to tell of
Jesus, and how he saves His people from their sins." Swartz heard the
voice, and his eye kindled, while his frame would tremble with the strong
over-mastering passion, the desire to bring the heathen to the feet of the
Saviour. " I will go— I will bear anything for God, through His help."
In all his thoughts, how trifling the sacrifice looked which he must make
of this world*s good things, compared with the honour and glory of win-
ning souls ! At home there was sorrow. How was the father to part
with his eldest son— the children with their brother ? But the father
could not forget the words of his wife j and so, after three days' prayer
and consideration, the old man came down from his chamber one morning,
and amid the tears of his children, bleSsed his son, saying, '* Go, my son,
leave your country and your father's house, and may God give you a
reward in winning many souls to the Saviour." Earthly love clings close,
and is beautiful to behold ; and we know God is pleased with it, for He
says that Christians should be seen of the world that they love one another ;
but, when the tie is formed between Him who sitteth on the throne, and
the soul wandering on the earth, how noble, then, does man become !
Losing his little paltry will in the will of God, then does he truly live.

Swartz reached Traqquebar on the 30th of July 1750, kept by the care
of his heavenly Father in all the dangers of the way. From his previous
knowledge of the Tamil language, he was able to preach his first sermon to
the natives on the 5th of November, little more than three months after his
arrival. His text was, *^ Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest." Think with what joy this young heart
would first declare to the heathen his message of love ! and, as he looked
around him, and met the glance of the bright dark eye of some one, on
whom the Word of God was telling with power, and saw the troubled look
or the uneasy motion of another, he would feel as if his heart was too big
for his bosom, and his body scarce able to bear the mighty thoughts of his
soul.

God greatly blessed the work of his servant. Thousands came to the
preaching of Swartz. Many souls were saved by his simple, affectionate
words, and even the obstinate Brahmins began to enquire^ One of these
said, ^ It is the lust of the eyes and of pleasure that prevents us from
embracing the truth." In. 1767, he became one of the missionaries of the
Christian Knowledge Society, and commenced a new mission at Trichino*
poly. Here he had many more people to work among, and had six of his
converts as helpers to him in his work ; but the secret of his success was^
that, at all times, in the burning noon, or in the quiet cool hour of night,
his soul held communings with his God, and his cry went up to the mercy-
seat for the souls of those poor people by whom he was surrounded.

Let us ask how our friend looks in the midst of his hard work and
lonely toil. He had no home with beloved ones in it, to whom he could
unbosom himself, in his intervals of rest. He had only a little room,
which held his bed, and in which he could scarcely stand upright. iJia
food was rice and vegetables, and his clothing was plain, and often well

2 D

Digitized by VjOOQIC

386 Domestic Associations.

worn ; yet like Daniel, he wan fiiir — ^pulee can preseire a good man, if be
is in the way of his daty ; and Swartz had as firm a step and as clear
an eye as, wnen a youth, he trod his own native land. Could his motber
have looked on her little boy, now a man in his prime, she would have
been proud of his handsome form, and her fingers might still have twisted
in his curly hair, while he would have met her loying gaze with as miich
joy in his laughing looks, as the boy did, with whom she parted in cbild-
Vood. His heart was sunny — his wants were few — his whole ambition
j^AS to prosper in his work. He got little money, and when he did get sa
additional hundred, by becoming chaplain to the English garrison, he gave
it all away to build a mission-house and school. This speaks of hia entire
unselfishness. India with its temples and idols of gold, covered with precioas
stones, is so well known amonff ns now, from the many descriptions we bare
of it, that the reader will understand, though it w not described here, the
kind of persons, and things, and sights among which Swartz worked. He
had now lived so long amonff this people, that, by his consistent walk
among them, even those who had not been converted to jresus,'hoDOTired
and loved His servant. He was known many miles from his home. And
still further to extend his influence, he took a journey of thirty-seven miles
eastward, to a wealthy and important city called Tanjore. Here Ood had
more work for him to do.

After a hot, weary journey, Swartz reached the entrance to the town of
Tanjore. Here he sat under a tree to rest himself, and think what be was
to do next. One after another of the passers-by stood still, and looked at
him, wondering who he was, and staring at his stran^ dress, unlike even
other white men*s, for he wore it in the fashion in which he had it on bis
first coming to India. Some of the faces looked ansry, and, at last,
when they found he knew their language, one said, ** What are you doing
BO near our idol 1 '*

" Oh ! " said the stranger, with a good-humoured smile, "cannot your
god speak for himself, that he needs you to speak for him ? " This made
the rest laugh ; and Swartz having got them in good humour, began to sow
his seed by the wayside. Crowds came, and the preacher spoke od.
Who can tell the results ? They were very kind to him, and fanned him
when they saw him oppressed with the heat. It is a good sign of love
to help God's servants on their way, if it were no more than with a
cup of cold water, "for it shall in no wise lose its reward.'* Some
minds are so finely strung, that words and looks which to others of
stronger mould carry no impression with them, strike so deeply down, and
touch such tender chords of feeling, that all unknown to the one who did
it, they leave a load at their heart which time takes not away. This is a
diseased state of mind, and Swartz had it not — he worked too hard for that ;
but yet it gladdened his heart, for his work's sake, to find his new friends
thus eareful of hiB comfort.

But Swartz was now to be called to speak before kings.
King Tuljajee sent for him, having heard of his fame. All sools are
alike precious, but when a hf^athen king embraces the religion of Jesus,
then a wide door is opened for the gathering in of his people. Swartz's
mind was full of this as he went on his way to the palace. Hope was in
his step-^and prayers rose from the heart, and were wafted up ahoTe the
clouds, for the heathen king. The preacher modestly stood before him.
while the king could not but admire the bearing of the man who had come
into his presence. Bidding him be seated, they began to talk ; and if the
king admired him before, he now felt this was no common man, who knew
the Persian language better than he did, who could talk with him in Tamil,
and who offered to learn the Mahratta, that they might converse more
freely together. Swartz had many opportunities of preaching Christ to the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Domestic Associations, 387

king and his people. This was the work he lored. And in oircmftdhinces
of much pain, and covered with dust which the land-wind hlew on him, he
preached outside the fort. But the king brought him in, and was so far
touched, that he said, " We must keep him here, in order to instruct this
foolish people."

King Tuljajee was in the prime of life, with good parts, but Terj fond of
his ea^ and pleasure. He loved this white man, and would gladly have
had-hun stay with him, but his heart whispered, if you are going to become
a Christian, yon must give up all those wicked pleasures in which you
delight. His courtiers felt also that their master would not tderate theit
vices if he became like this man ; so they wished him away back to his own
plaoe, and to be left alone as they were. So the king said he might go
back to Trichinopoly, and he would send for him again. The king did send
for him again ; but, though he was convinced, to use his own words, f that
the Christian religion was a hundred thousand times better than idolatrv,"
jet he aever took Jesus as his Saviour. He died in his sins — having adacil
sin to sin, after having heard of Jesus. ** To whom much is given, of them
much also shall be required." Poor Tuljajec, was there no hope for you P

God had taken Tuljajee*s children away from him by death, and to have
an heir to his kingdom, he adopted a little boy related to him in some way.
Before his own death he sent for Swartz, and, pointing to the child| teid, "^I
gi?e this child into your keeping; he is no longer mine, but yours." The
man of Gk>d immediately said, "May the child become a son of God ! "
There was hope in this for the kingdom, and hope for the missionary too.
His black hairs were becoming mixed with grey, and he thought, as he
looked on the youthful countenance, ''Will tihis child grow up to be a
Christian king ; and will my Lord reap a good harvest of souk in this
place? ** The child looked in his face, as if seeking for rest ; and there was
a bond of sympathy formed between the experienced Christian and the
young, warm heart, which death could not destroy.

War, at once the hinderer and the promoter of missions, visited the
district torn by rival factions, each greedy of gain ; and in the strife, and
hurry, and misery which are ever its attendants, the weak and the strong
were &in to ding to the noble and strong-minded Swartz. They asked of
him a task which it was difficult to perform. It waa to beard the lion in
his den, and even Swartz was troubled. This was not his work — he did
not need thus to endanger his life ; for to go to the palace of Hyder Ali,
alone and unprotected, on such an errand, seemed to be but to gratify the
eraeltv of this ambitious man, in giving him the power to torture and kill
one whom his enemies loved. But this man, who had given his life into
Qod*s hands by going to this land, remembered these words, ^ Blessed are
the peace makers," and resolved to go. See him now in the beautiful
palace, in the presence of the tyrant, before whom men cringed for fear,
with dauntless courage standing calmly and explaining his errand — even
peace ! The wicked are in Goas hands, and cannot harm the righteous
without permission. Swartz found favour in the king's eyes, and had
many opportunities of preadiing Christ, and Him cruoified, in this wicked
court, and among this terror-stricken people. When he left, he found a
bag containing 300 rupees in his palanquin, which, as he could not return,
he took to the fhiglish authorities, and they told him to keep it. With
this he commenced an English Orphan School at Tanjore. No doubt
Swartz, on his return, would *' set up his Ebenezer, saying, Hitherto hath
the Lord helped me." War still continued, but the Lord preserved the
missionary. He had still work to do. Hyder told his troops not to harm
him, for he was *^a holy man." He could speak of Jesus to them when
he pleased, and the men called him *^ the good father.**

Swartz grew old. The pins were being loosed by which his earthly

2 D 2 ^ ,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

d88 Domestic Associations*

bouse of this tabernacle was held together. His sonl prospered atid wai
in health, but God gave him pain to bear, as iJT to wean him from the work
he loved so much, that he might ton? to be away to be with jesiia, ^' which
is far better/* Not that the Christian, to get away from pain, should long
for death ; but part of the bitter dup often given them to drink, is to get
such views of the sin and frailty and crowing uselessness of the body, as
to desire to be for ever with Christ. He continued till his death preaching
Christ to those around him, and now the strong man feels the power of the
love that upholds him in this hour of sorrow. They are Weeping all
around him ; for miles the air is laden with sighs ; and " What shall we
do without our good father ? '^ is heard on every side. Vpung hearts
mourn, but the old man*s voice is firm, and, amidst a silence that might he
felt, these words were heard by the Christians around his dying hed,
** Help my people to come to heaven I " The chariot of the Lord haa come,
and he was ready. The mother again rejoices to see h^ son f His name
lives, and his works do follow him. ** Blessed are the dead that die in the
Lord." " They that turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars for
ever and ever.*' — JFrom ** Things New and OW*

THB VOTH£Il*S VIRST-BORK.

The introduction of a littl« helpless stranger made a great alteration in
the quiet, but well-regulated home of Sarah Lovejoy. A host of new cares
and anxieties sprang up ;' if before she found she had plenty to do, and that
it required some management to keep all things straight, now it became
doubly difficult ; for the common duties of the household must be still per-
formed, and with the same regularity, whilst the many wants of the (irst-
bom must be all cared for ; and who but a young mother can do more than
give a feeble guess at the amount of those cares ? There is the new-bom
love for the first time awakened, the tender solicitude, the ever-wakeful
anxiety ; see how silently she goes about her work, how noiselessly she
passes to and fro from the little back-yard. No slamming of doors, shaking
the house from the top to the bottom ; yea., the street-door is carefully
shut, l«st the noise on the outside should disturb the precious slumberer.

Her hands are busy preparing to receive her husband, and with what
new delight does she anticipate his coming ! not now simply my dear husband,
but the father of my precious baby. Her bosom swells with delight as she
hears his footsteps ; and the. anxiety appears to be sympathetic, for the
door opens gently, and his inquiring eye seems to say, " Well, how la
baby ?'* And there is a tenderness of feeling which shows his love for his
wife, •* Baby is asleep, dear." There is the same air of comfort about
ever^hing, and they sit down to their pleasant meal with thankful hearts
and joys they never knew before.

" What a mercy it is, Sarah, that you are so well, and able to get about
so soon," said the kind husband. ** Indeed it is, my dear ; I find I am
wanted more than ever. There's baby crying," Her quick ear caught the
gentle sound, and up she rushed to tend the wants of the helpless stranger;
pressing him to her bosom, she brings him down with all a mother's pride
to show him to his father. There he is, a little embryo man ; his bright
eyes open and shut, but there is little intelligence in them yet ; his tiny
arms move feebly, but who will undertake to read the destinies of that
child, or say whereunto he shall grow ? That body and that mind may
take a stand-point in the history of the world, and thrill to its extremities
for good or for evil.

** Dear little fellow," said the father, " we have a solemn and important
charge committed to our trust, Sarah." ** Indeed we have, my dear ; may
God give us grace to bring him up in His fear." " Ah ! we need help
from above. I have often thought what helpless mortals we are when firat

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Correspondence. 389

brought into the world : how entirely dependent, and how long it is before
we can do anything for ourselves. We are by far the slowest of all
animals. Why that sparrow there, that is fluttering his wings and hopping
after his mother on the tiles, is but a few weeks old, and will soon be sent
to get bis own living, while this little baby will take months of tender
nursing, and years of care and anxiety. But my time is up, and I have
never yet been shut out or lost a quarter, and I am sure it won't do now I
have a wife and a child to work for, so I must be off. Good-bye, wife, may
the Lord bless and keep both you and baby." ** Good-bye, my dear, I shall
long for your return/' M. B.

CORRESPONDENCE.

A DEATH SCENE.
To the Editor,— Dear Sir,

llie human body, though formed out of the dust, bears the most evi-
dent marks of Divine power and wisdom. " I am fearfully and wonder-
fully made," savs David. If the cabinet is so exquisittly wrought, how
excellent must be the precious jewel that is lodged in it i We generally
form our estimate of the value of things by the price paid for them ; if we
apply this to the soul, its excellence must be far beyond our comprehension. .
" None of them can by any means redeem his brother, nor give to God a
ransom for him.** For souls, the Son of God became incarnate, suffered,
bled, and died. I have been led to these reflections by the following never-
to-be-forgotten circumstance.

When I was located in the county of , in 1851, 1 was requested

to visit a poor dying woman ; she was seventy-seven years of age, and she
had spent those years in total neglect of God and things divine. I took
with me a pious leader, hoping that our united supplications to heaven
might be heard on her behalf. M'hen we were ascending the stairs, we
heard oaths and imprecations, uttered by the dying woman, fullowed with,
'* Let them come in ! oh, let them come in ! 1 know who they are, they are
more devils sent to torment me !** After standing by the bedside a few
moments in silent prayer, I acquainted her with the object of our visit,
and desired her to say how she felt ; she instantly exclaimed, ** Why I feel
I am full of hell-fire ;** and putting her hand to her throat, she said, with
awful emphasis, " full up to here, cannot you smell it ? do you not see how
full of devils the room is 1*' My friend and I sung a few lines of that
hymn beginning with

" Come, ye sinners, poor and needy.*'
We affectionately urged her to unite with us, but the only reply was with
a frightful look and oath, " How can I sing who am full of hell-fire, and
the room full of devils ?'* We endeavoured to direct her mind to Christ,
as the sinner's friend, and Saviour of all, but she struck at us, cursed us, and
employed words too horrid — far, far too horrid, to mention. We stayed with
her about an hour, prayed with her, and for her, and then with sorrowful
hearts left her.

At bur earliest opportiinity we visited her again, but my blood almost
becomes cold, even at this distance of time, to say how we fouud her ; if
poaaible worse and worse, — she was evidently getting weaker, she was
Hearing her eternal state ; but, oh ! the obscenity, the awful blasphemies-
it was alarming ; if not interrupted by any questions being put to her, she
tossed herself from one side of the bed to the other, and in deep sepulchral
tones exclaimed, " I cannot rest, I cannot rest 1** We at last went to
prayer again. The moment we commenced, her arms were instantly
stretched out rigid and stiff, her eyes directed upward, but as soon as

Digitized by VjOOQIC

390 Correspondence.

prayer ea<M, her «rmi fell down, and her eyea again became restkiB, tnd
she poared forth the same horrifying volume of imprecations and oatks. I
believe the daj following our second visit, she closed her earthly career.
Just when she was dying, a pious female that was present spoke to h«M',
saying, "You are dying?" " I am," she instantly replied, « Tell me," Baid
the enaiarer, " how you feel just now T* " I am lost— -I am damned f — and
with tnese words she entered a w«rld of spirits. Who eould look at a
death-scene like this, in the nineteeth century, in a country like oora, pro-
fessedly Christiaa, without tears f and are there not thousands and tens
of thousands in Christian Britain, " who are living without God T and
multitudes that perish for ever without an interest in Christ ?

If you think the above worthy of a place in your excellent Magazine, I
send it with the -eamest prayerful desire that it may stimulate ns
all to increased devotedness, in the eause of our blessed Redeemer, and
that such may be our lives and labours in the Saviour*s service, that we
may by grace secure the blessedness of those who " shall shine as the
brightness of the firmament, and as the stars, for ever and ever/^

I am, dear Brother,

Tours respectfully,

Worle^ Jufy 4dA, 1867. W. Grhtith.

TWENTY-ONE REASONS FOR OPEN-AIR PREACSING.

1. Because, it is commanded, ''Go into all the world, and preach the
Gospel to every creature," which can scarcely be done without ont-door
preaching.

2. Because, our Lord hath set the -ezample. ^' And seeing the nmltitades,
he went up into a mountain," — " and be opened his mouth and taught
them."

3. Because, it is found that many will hear a diseourse ia the <^n-air,
who will scarcely ever hear one in a place of worship.

4. Because, it is the only way to reach the masses, who are " perishing for
lack of knowledge.**

5. Because, it is madeievident that some interest is felt in the spirifnal
welfare of those who most need it, ao that they eansot say, **no man caretk
for our souls.**

6. Because, God's blessing has attended it almost wherever it has been
practised.

7. Because, it is innocently becoming all things to men, to win some.
" He that winneth souls is wise."

8. Because, many wfll not enter a place of worehip ; and if they will not
come to us, it is our duty to go to them.

9. Because^ the ambassadorial office carries with it this idea, that it is a
TMssage of merey, which is to be delivered to those for whom it is intended :
which can searoely be done without open-air preaching.

10. Because, it is one excellent means of securing prosperity in Chriatiaa
churches, uniform experience having proved that m. proportion to the
interest felt for those without, has been the prosperity of those within.

11. Because, every Christian church is professedly a missionary one, and
there are a vast number of practieal heathens around us.

12. Because, people will hear ministers of another denominations without
a place of worship, who could scarcely be persuaded to hear them within,
wnich is so much gained.

13. Because, it is found that very poor people who have not, as they
imagine, suitable raiment to attend a place of worship, will, without any
loss of self-respect, attend service in the open air.

J4- Because, the Gospel is emphatically offered " without money and

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Human Life. 391

without piice,'' nothinff being required in the shape of Beat-rents, or col-
lections, which meets ine wants and prejudices of many ; and our Lord's
joyful exultation is thus yerified, *Hhe poor have the Gospel preached to
them."

15. Because, many notoriously wicked characters will attend open-
air service, who on no aecount would be seen inside a place of worship.

16. Becauee, even professed Atheists, and Deists, and scoffers at religion
will listen to a discourse, where they would not be likely to be noticed, as
in a crowd, whom you could not get to the house of God.

17. Because, the state of the church, which is split up into so many
sections demands it, a minister being able to address people of every
denomination, even the most exclusive, which he cannot do in his own
place of worship.

18. Because, the state of the world demands it. Extraordinary agencies
are at work to hinder Christianity, and extaordinary means should be
employed to promote it, and of this we may say as David of Goliah*s
Bword, "there is none like it." Paul, Fox, Wesley, Whitfield, and others,
wielded this weapon to great advantage. It was out-door preaching which
*^ turned the world upside down."

19. Because, it not only leads to a larger attendance at the house of
God, but an accession of members, many declining churches having been
revived, new ones formed, and become very prosperous by this means.

20. Because, it exhibits religion in its expansive and catholic character,
as not confined to the fforgeous cathedral, or more humble meeting-house,
but designed for those m the *' highways and hedges" of the country, and
the streets, lanes, and slums of our towns, and cities, to whom we are to
*'^o," and oompel to come in, that God's house may be filled, *' yet there
Ib room."

21. Because, it is the only way 'Ho warn every man, and teach eveiy
man," that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus, while the
satisiiBketion the performance of the dutv gives will be great, and the
reward glorious. ** Well done, good and mithfnl servant," <^ enter thou
into the joy of the Lord."

Bo^Uon. B. Glazbbrook.

HUMAN LIFE.

THB FIRST AND LAST MINUTB.

Minutes pa$8. The anxious husband paces slowly across his room. He
ifl a father, a man-child is bom unto him. Minutes] pass — the child has
been blest by a parent whom it cannot recognise, and pressed to that
bosom to which instinct alone guides for sustenance ; the young wife too
has faintly answered to a husband's questions, and felt his warm kiss on
her forehead.

HouTBpats, The low meanings from the closely coTered cradle, tell the
first wants of its infant occupant. The quiet tread of the nurse speaks of
Buffering around her ; while her glad countenance says, that the very
suffigriug which she is trying to alleviate, is a source of joy, and the name-
less articles which from time to time she arranges on the hearth, tell of a
new claimant for the courtesies and attentions of those who have pro-
greased further on the pathway of existence.

hay9 pass. Visitors are thronging the chamber, and the mother, pale
and interesting after her recent illness, is receiving their congratulations,
and listening proudly to their praises of the little treasure which lies
asleep in itsbed at her side. The scene shifts, and the father is there with

Digitized by VjOOQIC

392 Human Life.

her alone, as the twilight deepens about them, while they are pluming the
future destiny of their child.

Weeks ptui. The eyes of the young mother are sparkling with heahh,
and the rose blooms again on her cheek, and the cares of pleasure and
home engage her attentions, and the father is once more mingling with
the world ; yet they find many opportunities each day to visit the young
inheritor of life ; to watch over his dreamless slumber, to trace each
other's looks in his countenance, and to ponder upon the felicity of which
he is the bearer to them.

Months past. The cradle is deserted, but the chamber floor is strewed
with play tilings, and there is a little loiterer among them, whose half-lis] ed
words, and hearty laughs, and sunny countenance tell you that tiie
entrance into life is over a pathway of flowers. The cradle is empty, but
the last prayers of the parents are uttered over the small crib which
stands by their own bed side, and their latest attention is given to the
peaceful breathings of its occupant.

Years pass. Childhood has strengthened into boyhood, and gambolled
along into manhood. Old connections are broken, parents are sleeping in
their graves, new intimacies are formed, a new home is about him, new caies
distract him. He is abroad, struggling amid the business of life, or resting
from it with those he has chosen from his own generation ; time is begio-
ning to wrinkle his forehead, and thought has robbed his looks of Uieir
gaiety, and study has dimmed his eyes. Those who had begun life after
he had grown up, are fast crowding him out of it, and there are many
claimants upon his industry and love for protection and support.

Years pass. His own children have become men, and are quitting him,
as he also quitted the home of his fathers. His steps have lost their
elasticity, his hand has become familiar with the cane, to which he is
obliged to trust in his walks. He has left the bustle which fatigued him.
He looks anxiously in each days papers among the deaths, and then
ponders over the name of an old friend, and tries to persuade himself that
he is younger and stronger, and has a better hold upon life than any of his
contemporaries.

Months pass. He gradually diminishes the circle of his activity, he
dislikes to go abroad, where he finds so many new (aces, and he grieves to
meet his former companions after a short absence, they seem to have grown
so old, so infirm. Quiet enjoyments only are relished ; and a little conve^
sation about old times, a religious treatise, and his early bed, form for him
the sum total of his pleasures.

Weeks pass. Infirmity keeps him in his chamber. His walks are
limited to the small space between his easy chair and his bed. His
swollen limbs are wrapped in flannels. His sight is failing, his ears refuse
their duty, and his cup is but half filled, since otherwise his shaking hand
48annot carty it to his shrunk lips, without spilling its contents ; his powers
are weakened, his faculties are blunted, his strength is lost.

Days pass. The old man does not leave his bed ; his memory is failing;
. he talks, but he cannot be understood ; he asks questions, but they relate to
the transactions of a former generation ; he speaks of occurrences, but the
recolleotion of no one around him can go back to their scenes; ^^
seems to commune with comrades, but when he names them, it is found
that the waters of time and oblivion have long covered their tombs.

Jfours pass. The taper grows dimmer and dimmer; the machinery
moves yet more and more slowly, the sands are fewer as they measure the
allotted span. The motions of those about him are unheeded, or become s
vexation. Each fresh enquiry after his health is a knell. The springs of
life no longer force on its wheels, the " silver cord " is fast untwisting, the
pitcher is broken at the fountain, and '* time is a burden.'* His childreii

Digitized by VjOOQlC

The Moral Condition of Hamburg, 393

are abont him, but he heeda them not ; his friends are near, but he does
not recognise them. The circle is completed. The course is run, and
utter weakness brings the damp which ushers in the night of death.

THE MORAL CONDITION OF HAMBURG.

At the recent Anniversary of the Continental Evangelization Socfiirrr,
"the Rev. J. G. Oncken gave the following description of the spiritual
uecessities of the continent of Europe. Every missionary effort, said he,
of the right stamp, would be sure to meet with opposition, whether the
field the missionary occupies is at home or abroad ; and the home missio-
nary, perhaps, had the hardest task, because his work was peculiarly felt
to be aggressive, although it was the aggression of love. Persecution
ought not to be thought surprising, for the Master himself had distinctly
told his disciples — and the declaration applied to those who lived now as well
as to his immediate followers — that in the world they should hsrve perse*
cution. The City Missionaries of London could no doubt tell a sad tale
regarding the state of the people, but the German Missionary could tell
one of a nature still more sorrowful. It was his lot, more than twenty-five
years ago, to begin to labour as a Home Missionary in his native country.
His work was to go into the heart of Christendom, and to proclaim to the
people with a loud voice, ** You are no Christians ; " and this solemn
charge he adduced evidence to prove. At the close of the last and the com-
mencement of the present century, there was little elsS left of the glorious
German Reformation besides the errors which Luther unhappily embodied
in hiB catechisms, such as baptismal regeneration, confession, absolution,
and the retention of the mutilated ten commandments. Twenty-five years
ago, out of the large number of ministers in the city of Hamburg, there
were only five who maintained the doctrine of the Divinity of our
adorable Lord, all the rest were Rationalists. And it seemed that this
state of things would continue, for out of thirty-four students for the
ministry, who applied for examination at the hands of Dr. Kambach, only
one professed his faith in the proper Divinity of Christ. Consequent upon
such teaching in the pulpit the churches were deserted ; for out of a popu-
lation of 150,000, in the city of Hamburg, not more than 4,000 attended
the places of worship. Happily the worst parts of England even pre-
sented a delightful aspect in comparison with this. He had heard a Home
Missionary in Huntingdonshire, say, in a tone of deep lamentation, that in
that county, numbering 60,000 people, only 33,000 attended places of
worship on the Lord's-day. For himself, making the comparison between
that county and his own city, he felt the proportion of attendance was
most delightful and encouraging. Only think of the difference, — 150,000
people, and only 4,000 worshippers, and 500 of these attended the poor
nnmble Baptist chapel. And let it not be supposed that Hamburg waa
the worst city or district in Germany. In the Grand Duchy of Mecklen-
herg, for example, things were still worse. In one district it appeared
that a minister went to his church twenty-nine times with a sermon in
his pocket, hut had to return as often without preaching it, because not a
living soul went near the place. In another town, in the Grand Duchy of
Oldenberg, containing 6,000 souls, not more than twenty-five persons were
found in the church on the Sabbath. Indeed, there- was an almost univer-
sal defection from the worship of God ; and the ministers were as univer-
sally Rationalistic in their views. In Hamburg, when he began his labours
twenty-five yeara ago, the ministers of the National Church were utterly
&Qd irreconcilably opposed to the circulation of the Scriptures except by

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

394 Tht Moral Condition of Hamburg*

meami of themaelTM; and he, not being a Lntheran d^gyman, ^m
looked Qpon as a heretic. He could not^ therefore, obtain Bibles in his
own name from the dep6t. But the pastor of the Independent church,
who had obtained the inaulgeuce while on a visit to England, authorised
Mr. Oncken to procure as many Bibles, for ready money, as he wanted, in
his name. But when the secretary of the Bible Society found this out, he,
refused to allow Mr. Oncken to have any more copies. Therefore (said
Mr. Oncken) I called on that gentleman, and, with a fearful cane
and an awful imprecation upon me for preaching the Word of Life,
he dedared that I should have no more Bibles. ''What do you know
about preaching r' said he ; and then, smiting his breast, he exclaimed,
** We are the men^we are the men 1 " And the poor man got into such
a r^, that I thought of what Paul said about fighting with wild beasts
at Ej^esus. It was, therefore, under the most unfavourable drcom-
stances that the work of revival was commenced in Germany. The
ecclesiastical and civil power united to prevent any efforts being made
for the spread of the Gospel out of the pale of the National Church ;
and, ever since the Eeformation, till the Baptist movement^ twraty-
five years ago, none ever did take place. The Moravian movement
occurred within the church *, and all through Germany the Moraviaos
conform to the national system now. Consequentlv, as pioneers, the Bap-
tists had been obliged to bear the heaviest persecution. And let this ever be
borne in mind, that all persecution for conscience sake, in Germany, had
been originated and carried on by the National Protestant Church. The
civil authoiity in all instances had been far more liberal than the cleigy of
the National Church. It had, he foimd, been general Iv reported in this
country that the persecutions of himself and his friends had arisen from
the fact of their being Baptists. Now this was not so ; for the persecutioa
began long before a Baptist church was formed. The reason was this, that
they would not bow down to the absolute authority of the State-Church.
When the persecution commenced, Mr. Oncken sought for an interview
with the president of the National Church Assembly, in order that he
might explain the position he had felt compelled to take, and the belief he
entertained ; but that ffentleman refused the interview. Thereupon Pastor
Bautenbach expressed his surprise, and represented to the president that it
was luB duty to grant the proposed interview, reminding him that even
Bomaniats, when they had resolved to bum a heretic, always gave him an
opportunity of defending himself. But the remonstrance was unheeded.
And not only so, for these Hamburg ministers sent an appeal to the Senate,
entreating the civil power to use means to stay the progress of the heresy,
which the Senate promised to do, and they did ; but the work wsfl of God,
and it went on in spite of all opposition. - He believed that there had bera
given to the nonconforming Christians generally in Germany a spirit. of
great wisdom, so that they had never provoked persecution, which would
be a wicked thing. On the contrary, every means that could be emi^oyed
had been used to conciliate and prevent persecution. Before he was
incarcerated, he went to the head of the police, then a distinguished
member of the Senate, and asked him, at a private interview, not to
employ his measures against the Christians to the uttermost. But that
gentleman replied, '^ Whilst I can move this little finger it shall be moved
to your destruction." Mr. Oncken replied, '* You will find it is all labour
lost. You are a scholar, and know historv, and must be aware that
persecution has never succeeded in its design. He replied, *' If it does not
succeed in Hamburg, it shall not be our fault." And that gentleman had
kept his word. The police were constantly on the alert for the suppreaiioB
of the Baptists ; and many of them were imprisoned, as he was also
himself, and his goods confiscated and sold. But the Word of God and

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket. 395

the power of €k>d was not ; and when the place where the one church used
to meet was closed, then it multiplied into twelve churches ; so that
Chriatian life was not only not destroyed, but fostered and strengthened.
Their success had been wondrous, and all the glory must be given to Qod,
for it was dearly his work. Tvtenty thousand precious souls and more
had been converted to the faith, seven ty-four» churches formed, and 686
preaching stations opened. The church members numbered some 7000, and
about 1,600 good and devoted Christians had emigrated to the far>webt of
America. !n*otestants would rejoice to know that twenty-five per cent, of
the converts were formerly Romanists. In illustration of the persecuting

Spirit that had prevailed, not only in Hamburg, but in various parts of
ermany, Mr. Onoken mentioned that sanction had not only been refused
to marriages between Baptists, hut active measures had been taken to
prevent the brethren and sisters from leaving the country to get married
in England. In one instance a couple from Mecklenberg bad l^en actually
put on board the steamer at Hamburg to sail for England, when they were
pounced upon, taken back, and put into the common gaol, and not only so,
bat when liberated, in order that they might be sent home again under
a police escort, were charged for their gaol lodgings the amount that
would have been charged in a first class hotel of the city. And this
persecution in Mecklenberg still continues : but still the converts are full
of zeal and hope. In Hamburg, he rejoiced to say, the . civil power had
now become greatly reconciled to him and his brethren ; and that, too, at
a time when the gentleman already alluded to, who declared his utter
hostility to their proceedings, was at the head of affairs. The Senate were
upon the point of giving an ample concession of religious liberty. It is
about to ^ve us, said Mr. Oncken, the liberty to worship God according
to the dictates of our conscience, civil marriage, registration of the birth
of onr children, and the legalisation of the irregular marriages which we
have performed siuoe 1848. Brethren, this is an event in our history
which demands from us unfeigned gratitude to God. We believe that
the effort will not be confined to us, but spread throughout Germany.

THE CASKET.

FBBEMASONBT IN INDIA.

In the Brahminical initiations of Hindostan, which are among the earliest
that have been handed down to us, and may be almost considered as a cradle
of all the others, the eeremonies were performed in a vast cavern, the re-
mains of some of which at Salsette, Elephanta, and a few other places, will
give the spectator but a very imperfect notion of the extent and splendour
of those ancient Indian lodges. More imperfect remains than these are still
to be found in great numbers throughout Hindostan and Cashmere ; their
form was sometimes that of a cross, emblematic of the four elements of
which the universe was composed, but more generally an oval^ as a repre-
sentation of the mundane e^^^ whieh, we all know, was, in the ancient
systems, a symbol of the world. The interior of the cavern of initiation was
lit by innumerable lamps, and there sat in the east, the west, and the south ^
the three principal hierophants, or explainers of the mysteries, as the repre-
sentatives of Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva. Now Brahma was the Supreme
Beitv of the Hindoos, borrowed from the Sun-god of their Sabian ancestors ^
and Vishnu and Siva were but manifestations of his attributes. And we
learn from the Indian Pantheon, that when the sun rises in the east he i»
Brahma \ when he gains his meridian in the soutb^ he is Siva ; and when he
sets in the west, he is Vishnu.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

396 The Casket.

GOTHIC AKCHITECTURE.

Gothic architectare has had one great advantage over the classie, it lisg
been fostered by the priesthood with the state parse at ita command.
Sprung into existence under the influence of religious feelings, the most im«
pure in tone and deyelopment since the advent of Christ, it gathered to
Itself all the riches of the state ; it laid everything under contribation ; high
and low, rich and poor — the lowly peasant, the jovial squire, and the knight
of high degree were constrained to feed the pride and fume the vanity of
this grand Lama. The hopes and fears of another world were brought to
bear on the passing struggles of this, and the curse of the priest rang like a
death-knell in many a lowly hut. Terror was their instrument, while the
axe, the gibbet, poison, fire, torture, and all those hellish instruments irhieh
the priest invented for his purpose were called into play. The massacre of St.
Bartholomew and the fires of Smithfield still cast a lurid glare over the cen-
turies, and though the priest piled his temple and dedicated it to the liTing
God, he climbed there by human sacrifices, and many a blazing pile attests
that his spiritual desires were gratified by mutilation and blood. Such
were the conditions under which Gothic architecture arose. Little was then
known of classic architecture in this country. Absorbed in one idea, the
priest plied his craft, while the laymen bound it at his foot — E, White.

OPIUM SMOKING IN CHINA.

There is one vice to which the Chinese are addicted, to which I most refer,
viz., opium smoking. This holds a similar position here to the vice of
drunkenness at home ; and though not of so obtrusive a character as the
latter, it is said to be still more injurious and fatal. It seems to be a mistake,
however, to imagine that it is never taken in such moderation as to cause
no apparent injury to the health, for this seems to be more common than is
generally supposed. One man with whom I am acquainted, named Sun
Fong, says — (and I suppose he is a specimen of a numerous clas»)— that,
although he is not in the habit of smoking opium regularly, yet if, on paying
a visit to a friend, he is asked to smoke a pipe of opium, he consents to it.
One of the worst efiects of this habit (and I believe this is generally ad-
mitted) is, that if one gets into the habit of smoking it regularly, it cannot
be again abandoned without great danger to health and even to life itself.
A regular confirmed opium-smoker — one, at least, who smokes largely— is
easily recognised by his yellow countenance, sunken eyes, protruding lips,
and exhibits a wretched appearance of degradation ana sufi'ering. It is to
be regretted that foreigners, principally English, are the medium through
which opium is conveyed to China, as I fear this fact must to some extent
weaken their influence for good among the natives. Although opium
smoking is prevalent, I imagine that a large proportion of the people never
indulge in it. The cities, and even villages, are well supplied with tea-shops,
where crowds of the working-classes are always seated, regaling on tea and
tobacco, a much more harmless style of enjoying oneself than is practised at
home in our gin-palaoes and beer-shops.—^ Resident in China,

A MISSIONARY HEART.

When, long ago, John Nelson, a devoted follower of Christ in the days
of Wesley and Whitfield, was urged to keep silence, his answer was decided
and firm. " You ought not," said one to him, *' to tell people that they
may know their sins are forgiven ; for the world cannot bear it." "Let
them quake that fear," was his reply. " By the grace of God, I love every
man, and fear no raan ; and / will tell all I can, that there is such a/niteto
run for. If I hide it, mischief will come upon me. There is a famine
in the land ; and I see myself in the case of the lepers that were at the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket. 397

gates of Samaria, who found provision in the enemy's camp, and when
they had eaten and drunk and loaded themselves, said, * We do not well,
for this is a day of glad tidings ; let us sfo and make it known to the king's
household.' " This good man said yet more : " When I found God's wrath
removed for the sake of his dear Son, then I saw provision enough for mv
poor fainting soul, and for the world, too, if they would come for it."

Does not all this apply to us, if we have discovered Christ for our own
souls? Can we keep from helping ministers, missionaries, teachers, who seek
to tell men at home and abroad the good news of a Saviour, " in whom we
have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins, according
to the riches of his grace ?'*

John Nelson said, on that same occasion : " I believe it is a sin not to
declare to the children of men what God has done for my soul— that thev
may seek the same mercy."

WHAT IS IT ?

Now : What is it ? That point in duration which links the two eterni-
ties ; that flitting moment which, as it emerges into the present, vanishes
into the past. A beat of the pulse measures it ; a heart-throb — a breath.
While one utters the word, it comes — is gone.

What of it 1 Especially this. It is the accepted time — the day of sal-
vation. As it flies God waits to be gracious. Listen ! Divine love speaks.
** Unto you, O men, 1 call. The great expiation has been made. The
fountain is open. That flood is sufficient. Whosoever will may live, and
rise from death in sin to glory. 1 am a just God, and yet a Saviour. But
delay not. Now— not to-morrow. Time rushes. Life ebbs. Death has-
tens. What men are at the last hour, they are for ever. Its moral hues
colour the ages of eternity."

Will you waste it ? What ! this breath into which such interests crowd !
on which hangs eternity ! Waste it ! Are you mad ? Must truth be
unheeded ? love rejected ? heaven lost ? Waste it 1 Ease, pleasure, gold,
fame— throw them all away, if need be. But moments ! Seize them —
hold them ! That undying soul is to be saved^ if ever, now J

THK LAST DAY.

To everything beneath the sun there comes a last day j and of all futu-
rity, this is the only portion of time that can, in all cases, be infallibly
predicted. Let the sanguine then take warnings and the disheartened take
courage ; for to every joy and every sorrow, every hope and every fear,
there will come a last day ; and man ought so to live by foresight, that,
while he learns in every state to be content, he shall in each be prepared
for another, whatever that other may be. When we set an acorn, we
expect it will produce an oak, when we plant a vine, we calculate upon
gathering grapes ; but when we lay a plan for years to come, we may wish,
and we can do no more, except pray, that it may be accomplished, for we
know not what even the morrow will bring forth. All that we do know be-
fore hand of anything is, that to everything beneath the sun there comes a
last day— prompting to immediate and inspiring self-examination. From
this there is nothing to fear, from the neglect of it everything ; for however
alarming the discoveries of evil unsuspected or perils unknown may be,
such discoveries had better be made now, while escape is before us, than in
that day when the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed, and escape will
be impossible— that day which of all others is most emphatically called
"The Last Day.'* — James Montgomery,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

398 The Casket

8ATIN08 OF DR. BORNft.

Cheerfalnen is the d»agkter of enployment ; and 1 haTe knoWDA nun
come home in high spirits from a fonend, merely becailse he hftd the
management of it. There are some men whom nothing but hell-^fire fltthiof
in their &oes can rouse from sin and sensiialityi as I have seen a fellov
driyiiig a fat boar with a lanthom and a handle of straw, to tmrn a wisp
under his nose as often as he is laid down in the mire ; when he feak hk
beard singed he gets up and goes forward. In Kardon, a province of
Tartarj, as soon as a woman is delivered, she rises and dresses the child,
then the husband getting into bed with the in&nt, keeps it there fort/
dajTs, and receires visits as if A« had laid in. It seemeth not 6M7 to
account for this custom. Apply this to authors who publish other people's
works as their own, and tiJce the credit to themselves, or to rectorst who
value themselves on account of the good done by their curates, Aifflictioiu,
when accompanied with grace, alter their nature, as wormwood eaten with
bread will lose its bitterness. To reject the evidence of prophecy till
itll divines shall agree exactly ahout it, argues a conduct as wise in the
infidels, as if they should decline sitting down to a good dinner, iSt aU thi
clocks in London and Westminster struck four togetMr ! If a man's stndiea
are dry, his compositions will he insipid. Distil a bone and you will have
a quantity of water. — Aphorisms and Opinions of Dr. Home.

TBABHIKOS OY THB SOtTL.

Afl«cting revelations are sometimes made to missionaries of the terrible
distress of heathen minds under the loss of rehitives. No solid h^ie of
reunion beyond the grave cheers the bereaved, and they find all the ritual
of their idolatry, however pompous and costly, as vain an oblation for
themselves as it is to God. Some of the most precious joys of the
brethren labouring abroad are found in ministering to such. See an
instance related by a Baptist brother in Burmah. A woman, aft» listening
for some time to him, drew near and said —

** Teacher, that is ^ood doctrine ; it is true, and rejoices my heart Aod
teacher/' she continues, **it is just what I have been anxiously seeking to
learn these .many years. The teachings of our priests do not satisfy. The
worship of Gaudama affords no comfort. I have observed the customs of
our religion from childhood, making offerings to idols and priests,
worshipping pagodas, and performing after the strictest manner ail tb€
duties which are enjoined in the precepts of our religion. I went with my
parents to worship the great Shwayda gong (pagoda) in Rangoon. It was
there my parents died ; but all my efforts to find peace of mind were in
vain. I have corae here now to witness these religious ceremonies of the
Karens, but can get no satisfaction here. All is empty and unsatisfactory.
But what you say is good and true, and gives me joy. My husband feels
as I do ; and now we shall be happy."

It was a tract which the good man was redding, but that tract opcDed
her eyes to the precious fountain of consolation contained in the Ohnstiaa
revelation. The Gospel does what nothing else does, or can do—t^ tatitfiei,

AOQUAIKTANCB WITH OOD.

Certainly the greatest, the noblest pleasure of intelligent creatares iniiit
result from their acquaintance with the blessed God, and with thdr own
rational and immortal souls. And, oh, how divinely pleasant and entertain-
ing it is to look into our own souls, when we can find all our powenand
passions united and engaged in pursuit after €rod, our whole soul lon^
and passionately breathing after a conformity to him, and the full enjoy-
ment of him ! Verily, no hours pass away with so much divine pkasare, as
those that are spent in communing w ith God and our own hearts. Hu\^

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Beligious Intelligence, 399

Bvcot is a roirit of devotion, of seriousness, and solemnity ; a spirit of gospel
simplicity, love, and tenderness ! O how desirable and profitable is a spirit
of holj watchfulness, and godly jealousy over ourselves ; when our souls
are afraid of nothing so much, as that we shall grieve and offend the blessed
God, whom at such times we apprehend, or at least hope, to be a father and
friend ; whom we then love and long to please, rather than to be happy
ourselves, or at least we delight to derive our happiness from pleasinff and
glorifying ^lim. Surely this is a pious temper, worthy of the highest-
ambition and closest pursuit of intelligent creatures. O how vastly
superior is the pleasure, peace, and satismotion derived from these divine
frames, to that which we sometimes seek in things impertinent and
trifling ! — Brainerd.

RELIGIOUS INTELLIGENCE.

LISKEARD.

The premature removal from this circuit of our beloved Minister, the Rev.
W. Middleton, who, in obedience to the call of the Connexional Committee,
is about to proceed as a Missionary to Australia, has occasioned unaffected
regret amone the friends here, by whom his labours will be long and gratefully
remembered.

To give exoression to their warm attachment it was arranged that a social
tea-meeting should take place in Liskeard, on Monday, the 22nd June. The
occasion brought together a number of ofHce bearers and other friends from
different parts of the Circuit, many of whom reside at distances varving from
eight to fourteen miles. We were also favoured with the presence of members
of other religious denominations. About one hundred and seventy persons
sat down to well-furnished tables, which were presided over by several ladies,
who took a livelv interest in the proceedings, and whose assiduous attention to
the comfort of the visitors elicited the warmest praise. After the tea, a public
meeting was held, when, prayer having been offered by Mr. Hicks of Calling-
ton, the chair was taken by Mr. F. Hicks, of Liskeard, who opened the pro-
ceedings in a short but sensible address ; he was followed by the Revs. J. P.
Wren and J. W. Gilchrist, of Bodmin, and W. Middleton, whose interesting
remarks made a deep impression on a large and attentive audience.

The following Acrostic, by George Stephens, Esq., of Carluther, neat
Liskeard, was presented as an address to Mr. Middleton, and read at the
meeting —

Go forth thou herald of the Lord,

Encouraged by His holy word.

O'er every land proclaim His name,

Religion, gloriously the same ;

Grace, mercy, peace, and pardon free.

Each purchased by the Lord for thee.

Stand up the champion of His cause.
Teach them His holy righteous laws.
Enlarged in heart and mind and soul.
Proclaim Him Lord from pole to pole ;
Henceforth let heart and mind unite.
Equipped with panoply* and might ;
Nor turn from duty s path away,
Sound forth his word from sea to sea.

Before the meeting closed the chairman took occasion to remark that Mr.
Middleton would be accompanied to the scene of his future labours by the
Hev. J. Sayer, of whose ministerial labonrs in this Circuit, for six years, a kind

* The shield of Faith, and the sword of the Spirit.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

400 Beligious Intelligence.

remembrance it cherisbecl. The following resolution was unanimously
adopted, viz., " That Mr. Middleton be requested to convey to Mr. Sayeran
expression of sympathy from his old friends at Liskeard, with their best wishes
for his prosperity and usefulness in the land of his adoption."

Part of tne 5J5th hymn was then sung with much feeling, and, after prayer
had been offered by M. Woodburn, the assembly broke up. saddened by the
knowledge that here the most valued friendships and tenderest associationi
are liable to be riven, but encouraged by the hope that —

'* Who meet on that eternal shore
Shall never part again."

The net proceeds of the tea amounting to upwards of 7/., were subseqiieDtly
presented to Mr. Middleton.

G. ROOEEI.

Liskeard, 7th July, 1857.

WELSH MISSION.

Our Missionary services have been held as follows, at Moriah Welsh Chapel,
Gill-street, Liverpool —

On Sunday, June 28th, six sermons were delivered upon the occasioni by
G. Griffiths and W. Williams, Missionaries, and Messrs. £. Hughes, of Holy-
well, and H. Jones, of Bangor. This was a profitable day to our souls.*
The preaching was very powerful, and delivered under a good influence,
the tone of feeling was serious, and many of our dear friends expressed
themselves as having been very much pleased on that account. We rejoice
that the great Master of Assemblies was in the midst ; a solemn sense of His
glorious, yet awfu), presence, seemed universal. An interest was maoifested
on every countenance while listening to the announcement of God's great
love, manifested in the atonement made by Christ for alL

Our Missionary meeting on the following evening was not so well attended,
owing to the heavy torrents of rain. Some of our friends did not expect that
we should hold the meeting. We hope that our collections are fully more
than last year throughout the whole of our W^elsh Societies, and we earnestly
hope that it is the prelude to an abundant harvest of immortal souls.

G. Griffiths, Missionary.

SWANSEA CIRCUIT.

The annual services on behalf of our Home and Foreign Missions were held
as follows —

On Sunday, June 14th, sermons were preached in the Free Church Meeting-
house, Bellevue-street, in the morning by the Rev. W. Jones, Independent;
and in the evening, by the Rev. £. D« Green. The collections after the ser-
mons were much better than last year.

On the following Tuesday, the !6th, our public meeting was held, pre-
sided over by an Independent, — Davis, Esq., postmaster. After the report
had been delivered by the minister, the meeting was addressed by the Rev.
W. Williams, J. Whitby, G. F. Bourne, and W. Jones, with E. Berry, Town
Missionary, and Valentine Chetton, a Friend. The two Baptist ministers
would have been with us, but they were some distance out of Wales. Neither
the attendance nor the collection was equal to last year's meeting, but this
was partly owing to our having sacrificed our own and most fitting evening to
the service of another and weaker Church in the town. However, "There is
that giveth that tendeth to increase." Our cause here is getting larger by
degrees, and becoming more stable and influential ; but our chief desire is
that the Lord's cause should witness a mighty extension. For this, a few of
Israel's sons have long been wrestling, and wrestle they are still determined
to do, until they hear the sound and feel the refreshment of a gracious rain.

* Our Correspondent writes more correct in Welsh than in English. — ^Edit.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Digitized by VjOOQIC

ZmikA* «/*

C

Digitized by VjOOQIC

THE

WESLEY AN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE.

SEPTEMBER, 1857.

MUTUAL PRAYER.

Job xlii. 7—10.

JoB^s friends (who appear to have been men of piety) having heard
of his affliction came to comfort him. But when they saw his deep
affliction they sat down seven days astonished, chap. ii. 12, 13. They
assumed, as a principle, that the truly righteous cannot be the subjects
of deep afflictions, hence they charge Job with hypocrisy — of being
guilty of some secret or enormous crime, which brought his affliction
as a punishment upon him. In their arguments on this subject they
sometimes arraigri the justice and goodness of Divine Providence.

Job maintained that the righteous may suffer,- that it was consistent
with the^ justice and goodness of Divine Providence to permit their
safierifigs oi^-to afflict the rightepus — that his. afflictions were not
pua^hments ipr sin — thp.t he still held fast his integrity, and' knew
thail^ Redeemer liveth,'&c. ".. , ,

IjieXiord was angry with the three friends of. Job, because they
had dot spoken of him " the thing that^ is right." He commanded
them to lake each seven bullocks, &c., and that Job should pray for
them, *Aj<^, and they should be forgiven.

These sacrifices were typical of. " the Lamb of God. who taketh
away the sin of the world." They show that the smallest sin cannot
be forgiven without an atonement. • Sins of ignorance, such as those
of Job's friends, need atonement. Without shedding of blood there
is no remission.

The all-atoning sacrifice, the all-sufficient propitiation of the blessed
Saviour, our Redeeming kinsman, is the consolation of every child of
man. Here is the sinner's hope, and his 07ilt/ hope.

In this paper we wish to call attention to the duty and efficacy of
Intercessional Prayer, or prayer for others.

I. The Duty of Mutual Intercessional Prayer.

1. Christians need the prayers of each other, Man is a social
creature. He was not made to live solitary and alone, but in society,
and in this social state man must be helpful to man. Men need the
assistance of each other in numerous good offices, in instructing each
other, sympathising with each other in trouble, protecting each other
in danger. Men need the help of each other in building their houses,
making furniture, providing food, clothes, in trade and commerce, and
Christians need the help of each other in building each other up,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

402 Mutual Prayer.

strengthening each other, invigorating each other's piety ; they need
especially the help of each other's prayers.

The blessed God has appointed his only- begotten Son to be our
intercessor and advocate at the throne of Glory, and he will hear our
mutual intercession for each other at the throne of Grace. Not to
pray for others is uncharitableness : net to desire the prayers of others
is pride, self-sufficiency.

2. It is reasonable to prai/ for others. Arguing from analogy,
reason says, if you have a regard for me you will do more for a third
person, at my request, than you would have done without such a
request. How much more will the blessed God, at the request of his
beloved children, give blessings through Jesus Christ, to those persons
for whom they pray, which he would nqj have done without such
prayers. One friend, then, should employ his interest in heaven for
another, and may find favour, may bring blessings down. For we
know if we ask anything according to his will, we have the petition
that we desire of him. 1 John v. 14, 15.

3. It is Scriptural to pray for others. We have Divine authority.
" The Lord said to Abiraelech, restore the man his wife, for he is a
prophet, and he shall pray for thee and thou shalt live.** Gen. xx. 7.
Job here prays for his friends, and is answered.

4. Such praying is matter of Divine command. Whatever has
the sanction of Divine authority and Divine command must be wise,
lioly> just, and good ; it is necessary for us, and becomes our duty to
perform. The command is, " Confess your fjaults one to another, and
pray for one another that ye be healed." James v. 16. "Praying
always with all prayer, &c., and supplication for all saints." Eph.
vi. 18. "I exhort therefore that first of all supplication, &c., for all
men." 1 Tim. ii. 16. The reasons assigned are, "It is good and
acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour," because he wills *'all
men to be saved ;'* because there " is one God the Father of us all.
one Mediator who gave himself a ransom for all."

5. fVe* have Scripture examples of praying for others. The
Apostles prayed for others. The Old Testament furnishes numerous
examples of intercession, but we confine ourselves to the New Tes-
tament, which constantly exhibits holy men as labouring in prajer
for the churches. Epaphras laboured fervently in prayer for the
Colossians, tliat they " might stand perfect and complete in all the will
of God." Col. iv. 12. Peter prayed that "the God of all grace who
has called us to eternal glory by Christ Jesus after that ye have suf-
fered awhile, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you."
Paul prayed, " Now the God of peace that brought again from the
dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the
blood of the everlasting covenant, make you perfect in every good
work to do his will," &c. Heb. xiii. 20, 21. They were constantlj
bowing their knees before God and the Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ to grant, according to the riches of his glory, to be strength-
ened with might by his Spirit in the inner man. Eph. iii. 14, 16.

The apostles requested the prayers of others. Though engaged m
an extraordinary mission, though they had an extraordinary influence

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Mutual Prayer. 403

•f the blessed Spirit, yet they felt their need of the prayers of others.
Che Apostle Paul ardently entreated the prayers of the churches.
le besought the Romans, for the Lord Jesus Christ's sake, and for
lie love of the Spirit, to strive together with him in their prayers to
xod for him that he might be delivered from them who did not
)eUeve in Judea, that his services might be acceptable to the poor
aints at Jerusalem, that he might come unto them at Rome with joy.
lorn. XV. 30, 32. He entreats the Ephesians, Colossians, and Thes-
lalonians to pray for him, "that utterance might be given him to
peak the mystery of Christ and make known the mystery of the
jrospel," that he " might open his mouth boldly and speak as he
)nglit to speak," that " a door of utterance might be opened" that
' the word of the Lord might have free course and be glorified," that
' he might be delivered from unreasonable and wicked men." Eph.
L 19; Col. iv. 3 ; 2 Thes. iii. 13. Thus the Apostles considered
hat their liberty of speech, success of their ministry, protection of
heir persons from wicked men, deliverance from danger, depended
>n the prayers of the saints. How few chucches see the importance of
iraying for their ministers. How few congregations feel it to be, as they
lught, their bounden duty to pray for their ministers, to bless them in
heir studies, to lead them to useful subjects, to convince the gainsayer,
nstruct the ignorant, and direct the anxious inquirer, comfort and
eed the flock, to increase their personal piety, that they may have
iberty of speech and boldness to declare the mystery of Christ, and
hus be crowned with the unction of the blessed Spirit, without whose
wly influence no good can be done. Hence the churches are so dark,
Teak, poor in spiritual things, so lifeless, and have so little zeal for
Christ among the members.

How can any man expect to be blessed under a ministry when he
Ices not ardently pray for the minitter, perhaps has prejudices unrea-
ionable against the messenger of God ? What right has he to expect
I blessing when he is violating an express command ? Do you wish
« be blessed under our ministry, then pray for us, that " the -hand of
he Lord may be with us."

n. What are thb Objects op Intbrcessional or Mutual
Prayer ?

These are very numerous, as temporal mercies, spiritual mercies,
ind the welfare of our fellow-men of all conditions.

1. Temporal Mercies, These are health of body, deliverance from
langer, the conveniences of life, food to eat and raiment to wear, fruitful
mrvests, and all those temporal benefits which are needful for man
1^ this life. An objection has been raised by the infidel. The laws
)f nature are ordered, settled, and fix:ed. There is a natural con-
nection or chain of causes and effects to produce certain ends. Why,
hen, pray for temporal things ? Will the Supreme Being change
laws of his own fixing for a worm ? The answer to such prayers
^voiild unsettle the established order of Nature's laws. We answer,
It is a blessing to us that the laws of nature are settled and fixed, or
lU would be confusion, uproar, and wild anarchy. But that hifinite

2 B 2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

404 Mutual Vrayer.

and Almighty Being who has established the laws of nature is the
God of Providence. He has said, your " hairs are all numbered,"
" not a hair of your head can fall to the ground without the no-
tice," &c.

He has said, " Call upon me in the day of trouble," &c. He who has
fixed the laws of nature has left room in these general laws to inter-
pose in behalf of his praying people. But what are the laws of nature
but his operation ? They depend on him for their existence ; and
that God who has given to nature certain laws is the God who hears
prayer and can easily interpose in answer to prayer without disturb-
ing or destroying his general laws. Yes, he can change th* weaUm,
check a disease^ prevent an. accident, frustrate the design of an assas-
sin, give fruitful seasons without interfering with the general laws of
nature ; and, were it necessary for his people's good, he would suspend
the laws of nature, as in the case of Joshua praying for the sun to
stand still, and Isaiah praying that the sun's shadow might come back
ten degrees.

2. Spiritual Mercies, All those blessings which are beneficial to
man for the conversion and salvation of his soul. We should pray
for repentance, that that blessed Jesus who is exalted as a Prince
and Saviour to give, &c., may give us repentance. For forgiveness
of sin, call for the elders, &c.

For sanctification, "And the very God of peace sanctifjyoa
wholly ; I pray God your whole spirit, and soul, and body be preseryed
blameless." 1 Thes. v. 23.

For all spiritual mercies. Thus St. Paul prayed for the Churches,
that their "love might abound more and more in knowledge and in
all judgment." Phil. i. 9. " That they might be filled with the know-
ledge of his will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding, and migbt
walk worthy of the Lord unto ^11 well pleasing." CoL i. 9, 10;
2 Cor. xiii. 17 ; Eph. iii. 14.

But it may be objected his purposes and councils are immutably
fixed. He is unchangeable ; and of what use is it, therefore, to pray
for spiritual mercies upon others ? We answer, there is a consistency
between this immutability and His answering prayer. His perfections
are immutable, and His purposes and His councils are immutable.
But these immutable purposes are to change His conduct according to
their conduct towards him. " The Lord will be with you while you
• are with him. If thou seek him he will be found of thee, but if thou
forsake him he will cast thee off for ever. Hence he will answer
serious and fervent prayer put up for our fellowmen. Again, it may
be objected, but how can other men's sins be forgiven in answer to
prayer ? We answer, very well on the Divine plan, in God's way, as
the prayers of the righteous procure the means of conversion.
Softening grace, repentance, humility, they remove unbelief, strengthen
the faith of the person prayed for, and perhaps my reader has seen
these effects produced while praying for penitents.

3. Persons of all conditions. For fellow-Christians of the same
Church. "Confess your fault one,"&c. James v. " For all saints
everywthere, though not having seen," &c. Eph. vi. 18. For fallen-
Digitized by VjOOQIC

Mutual Prayer:, 405

Christians, that they may be quickened again. For ministers that,
&c. 2 Thess. iii. '

For raising up ministers and qualifying them. Pray ye, therefore,
the Lord of harvest, &c. For the prosperity of Zion. " Ye that make
mention of the Lord keep not silence and give him no rest till he
establisheth and till he make Jerusalem a praise in the earth." Isa.
Ixii. 6, 7. For your families. " O that Ismael may live before thee."
Gen. xvii. 18. For your neighbours and countiymen. " My heart's
desire and prayer to God, for Israel is ... . saved." Rom. x. 1. For
kings and for all them that are in authority. 1 Tim. ii. 1 . For ene-
mies. " Bless them that curse you, and pray for those," &c.

Ill, Consider the efficacy of Intercessional Prater.

** The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much."
It does not say how much, but it is exceedingly efficacious. This we
see from

Scripture examples. Healing, afflicted Abraham interceded for
Abimeiech and his wife, and his maid servants. Gen. xx. 17. Moses
pi-ayed for Miriam, who was smitten with leprosy. ** Heal her now, O
God, I beseech thee." Num. xii. 13. When Jeroboam's hand was
withered, the man of God prayed for him, and it was restored. The
Centurion for his servant ; the nobleman of Capernaum for his son.
Is any sick, let him send for the elders of the Church, and let them
pray over him, and the prayer of faith shall save the sick.

Deliverance from danger, Jacob prayed, ** Deliver me from my
brother Esau, for I fear lest he should smite the mother with the
children." It was heard.

Elisha prayed when the Syrian army besieged him in Dothan, first,
for his servant, '' Open his eyes," &c., and secondly, " Smite the people
I pray thee with blindness, and the Lord smote." He led this army
into Samaria and again prayed, " Lord open the eyes of these men that
they may see ; and the Lord opened," &c. 2 Kings vi. When Petc^r
was in prison, prayer was made without ceasing unto God for hirn by
the church, and the Lord sent an angel and delivered Peter from the
malice of Herod and the expectation of the Jews. So Samuel prayed
at Mizpeh, to preserve Israel from the Philistines. Isaiah prayed to
the Lord to deliver Jerusalem from Sennacherib, &c.

Averting Judgments,-— AhvdihviUi intercedes for Sodom when the
Lord sent angels to destroy it. When the Lord threatened to cut off
Israel in the Wilderness Moses interposed, and the Lord repented of
the evil He thought to do unto His people. Exod. xxxii. 9 — 14.

Forgiveness of Sins, The prayer of faith shall save the sick, and
the Lord shall raise him up, and if he have committed sins, &c. Job
prayed.

Power to preach the Word, When Peter had healed the cripple,
and he and John were threatened by the Jewish council, the church
prayed, " Lord, behold their threatenings : and grant unto thy ser-
vants, that with all boldness they may speak thy Word, by stretching
forth thy hand to heal ; and that signs," &c. And when they liad

Digitized by VjOOQIC

406 Mutual Prayer.

prayed, the place was shaken, and they were all filled with the Holy
Ghost, and they spake the Word of God with boldness, and with great
power gave the apostles witness of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus."*
Actsiv. 29— 33.

The efficacy of prayer arises from Divine appointment, from tk
command and promise of the blessed God to hear.

He has commanded. We are to pray without ceasing. Men are to
pray everywhere. He has promised, "Whatsoever ye shall ask in
prayer, believing in the name of Jesus, ye shall receive."

True Christians are kings and priests unto God. They are spiri-
tual priests to offer prayer and praise unto God tlu'ough Christ Jesus.
The promise and faithfulness of the blessed God give force and efficacy
to prayer. Prayer puts omnipotence into operation to which notliicL'
is hard, nothing impossible. The prayer of the upright is His deligLt.
and he will answer in blessings upon the bodies, souls, and cir-
cumstances of men. " Let these spiritual priests weep between tk
porch and the altar, and let them say, Spare tliy people, 0 Lord, and
give not thine heritage to reproach. Wherefore should the heathen
say, where is their God." Joel ii. 17. Prayer must be successful, fur
there is as close a connection between humble, faithful prayer and liic
blessings we need, as between ploughing, sowing, rain, and sunshine,
and the future plentiful harvest. And this connection is fixed hy tk
immutable council of the blessed God.

The ejficacy of prayer is not confined to place or time. It i^
not necessarily confined to person^ in the same place, because t;ie
Lord, who answers prayer, is everywhere present. The perfiu
prayed for may be in another house, street, or town, may be on ikt:
continent, sea, in Australia, or in America, yet prayer will reach hit

Jacob's prayer mollified Esau at a distance, assuaged his wrath, dis-
armed his rage. The prayers put up at Rome reached Paul at Jeru-
salem. When in the sanctuary your prayers may benefit others fflii^
:u"e present, those who are absent, your neighbours or friends, attlit
greMest distance. Prayers offered up in this present time di'J
benefit the generations to come: children not yet born, giw^'
children. Psn. Ixxviii. 6, 7. Through your prayers a blessuig din
descend upon your children, and children's children, and posteritjti>
come, so that when you are praising the Lord in heaven a precioJ'
seed may spring up— a joyful harvest may be gathered to follow y^'J
to glory. Some of you now converted are the fruit of your parent^
prayers. They offered many for you perhaps before you were born;
in infancy they led you to the throne of grace and the house of pra^"^'
and then wrestled for your salvation. And in answer the Lord tj
converted your souls, made you children of God, heirs of glorv, a^^
you will hereafter join them in the kingdom of the blessed God.

A history of the answers to prayer would be a noble part of ij'
history of providence and the Lord's dealings with His people, ^j
would also be a delightful history of the faithfulness of the bk^^'
God in accomplishing his promises. Each of you, Christians, cani-'
nish a history of the answers to your own prayers and of the ans^ver? ''
the prayers of others, for your benefit. How many blessings im^^-'

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

, Mutual Prayer* 407

and spiritual have you I'cceived in answer to prayer ? What precious
blessings of grace, consolation, and strength, have you received?
Eternity, however, will unfold the record of answers to prayer, which
will be a theme of wonder, gratitude, and praise for ever.

Prayer for others is highly profitable to ourselves. Job when pray-
ing for his friends, had his own captivity turned. "While he prayed,
or soon after, his body was wonderfully healed, the power of Satan
broken, his soul refi'esfted with the Divine presence, the tide of all hia
affairs turned, and the Lord gave him double prosperity, double bles-
sings. You will reap the benefit in Divine consolation, in double
blessings. It will expand the soul, destroy prejudice, produce bene-
volence and love, and excite generous feelings and motives.

To conclude — L Let those who have injured their brethren seek
reconcilifition. Job's friends had wounded him, grieved him, charged
I him with hypocrisy or secret sins. Now they seek reconciliation,
they entreat his prayers. " If thy brother liave ought against thee
justly, if thou bast injured him in character or property, leave thy gift
before the altar, go and be reconciled to thy brother," &c. 2. The
Lord will hear the prayers of his faithful servants for others, when
he may not hear !fceir own prayers. The prayers of tlie wicked are
an abomination to the Lord, but the prayer of the upright is his de-
light. Abraham praying for Abimelech and for Sodom, the man
of God for Jeroboam, Job praying for his friends, are cases in point.
Intercession is standing in the gap to prevent wrath. We have a
very striking passage in Ezekiil, 22 — 30 : ** J sought for a man among ,
them that should liakc up the'hedgc and stand in the gap before me,
for the land that I should not destroy it, but I found none." Here is
a proof that the blessed God will hear the prayers of his i)eople for
others, when on account of their sinfulness he will not hear their
own prayers. Let Christians then make up the hedge and stand in
the gap before the Lord, and intercede, and bring down l^essiags
upon a sinful land, an afflicted Church, a miserable world, and engage
the favour of God for them. Those who have but little of this
world's goods, if truly pious, if righteous men and women, may do
much in these noble acts of charity. Though, like Peter when he
healed the cripple, " silver and gold I have none," but such as I have
is infinitely better than silver and gold. You have not much silver,
but you have favour with the blessed God and niay prevail. 3. The
Lord will after trouble honour his faithful servants. The Loixi
honoured the pei'secuted saints at Philadelphia. "Behold, I will
make them of the synagogue of Satan, who say, &c. Behold, I will
make them come and bow down before thy feel and know that I
have loved thee." (llev. iii. 9.)

The foolish virgins came to the wise and said, give us of your oil.
Job's friends who had accused him, who had laid things to his charge
which he knew not, now humble themselves before him and desire
his prayers. The time may come Avhen those who have persecuted
and slandered God's people, may be glad to have their prayers, and
we will not withhold them.

Let Christians be more engaged in this blessed work of interces-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

408 The Grandeur of Palmyra and Queen Zenobta,

sion. Fray much for your families, that the Lord would embitter 8in
and the pleasures of the world. Conyince them of the great guilt of
neglecting Jesus and his salvation. Fray much for your friends, rela-
tions, neighbours. Fray much for your enemies, persecutors, slan-
derers. Job prayed for those who wounded him. The dying Saviour
prayed for those who were piercing him, *' Father, forgive them."
He ever lives to make intercession for the transgressors — His enemies.
Imitate, then, your Divine Master. Fray especially for an outpomiog
of the blessed Spirit, an extensive revival of the work of the Lord—
" Save noyf, I beseech thee, O Lord," &c. Amen.
Forest of Dean. John Hikst.

THE GRANDEUR OF FALMYRA AND QUEEN ZENOBIA.

The great peninsula of Arabia, lying between Egypt and Persia,
was imperfectly known to the Romans : this region, four times as ex-
tensive as France, was not formed by nature to sustain a numerous
population, nor to admit of a state of civilization resembling our own.
The Romans kept up some communication through It with India, but
left to the Arabs the toil and peril of conducting caravans through
the desert. They saw with amazement a nation permanently com-
bining trade with pillage : they already designated, by the name of
Saracens, those daring robbers who issued from the desert and infested
the plains of Syria, forming a cavalry unmatched in the world,
especially for the indomitable ardour- and docility of their horses.
But they did not guess the qualities which lay dormant in the Arab
character ; qualities which we see in full strength and activity
three centuries later, when this nation girded itself up for the conquest
of the world.

It was in the midst of these deserts, 500 miles from Seleucia, on the
Tigris, one of the largest cities of Fersia, 200 miles from the frontiers
of Syria, that the city of Falmyra arose, as if by enchantment, in a
fertile country watered by plenteous springs and thickly studded with
waving palms. Immense plains of sand surrounded it on all sides,
serving as a barrier against the Farthians and the Romans, and per-
vious only to the caravans of the Arabs, who exchanged the treasures
of the East and of the West between these two nations, and reposed
after their toilsome march in this sumptuous city.

Falmyra, peopled by a colony of Greeks and of Arabs, united the
manners of both. Its government was republican, and it maintained
its independence during the time of the greatest power of Rome. The
Farthians ftnd the Romans were equally anxious to secure its alliance
in all their wars. After his victories over the Farthians, Trajan
united this republic to the Roman empire. Commerce, however,
did not abandon Palmyra; its wealth continued to increase, and
its opulent citizens covered their parental soil with those superb
specimens of Greek architecture, which still astound the traveller
who beholds them ; rising in lonely gi*andeur out of the sands
of the desert. Nothing remains of Falmyra but these ruins and the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Assembly, 409

brilliant and romantic story of Zenobia. This extraordinary woman
was the daughter of an Arab scheik ; she declared herself descended
from Cleopatra, whom she, however, far surpassed in dignity and in
virtue. Zenobia owed her power only to the services she rendered to
her country. During the reign of Gallienus, when the empire was
attacked on every side, when Valerian was king of Persia, and Asia
was inundated with his armies, Zenobia emboldened her husband,
Odenatus, a rich senator of Palmyra, to resist the invasion of the
Persians, of his own autliority, and with no other aid than that of
his fellow-citizens and the Arabs of the desert. She shared all her
husbands toils and labours, whether in the field, or in his favourite
sport, lion hunting. She defeated Sapor, pursued him twice up to
the very gate of Ctesiphon, and reigned, at first, in conjunction with
Odenatus, and, after his death, alone, over Syria and Egypt, which
were her's by Conquest. Trebellius Pollio, a contemporary writer,
who saw her on that fatal occasion when she was led in triumph to
Rome (a.d. 273) paints her thus : it is the idea of a lofty Arab
beauty —

" Zenobia received those who came to pay her homage with Persian
pomp, exacting the sort of adoration paid to Eastern monarchs ; but
at table she followed the Eoman customs. When she addressed the
people she appeared with a helmet on her head and her arms bai'e ; but
a mantle of purple, adorned with gems, partly covered her person. Her
countenance was of an agreeable cast ; her complexion was not brilliant,
but her black eyes, of singular radiance, were animated with a celes-
tial fire and an inexpressible grace. Her teeth were of such dazzling
whiteness that it was commonly thought that she had substituted
pearls for those nature had given her. Her voice was clear and har-
monious, yet manly. On occasions she knew how to show a tyrant's
severity ; but she delighted rather in the clemency of good princes.
Beneficent with wisdom and moderation, she husbanded her treasure
in a manner little common among women. She was to be seen at the
head of her armies in her car, on horseback, or on foot, but rarely in
a more luxurious carriage."

She was the woman who vanquished Sapor, and who gave her con-
fidence to the sublime Longinus, the instructor of her children, and her
prime minister.

SiSMONDI.

THE ANNUAL ASSEMBLY OF THE METHODIST
REFORMERS AND THE WESLEYAN ASSOCIATION.

The First Annual Meeting of the Representatives of the Amalgamated
Societies commenced its sittings in Baillie-street Chapel, Rochdale, on
the last Wednesday in July.

The Rev. Matthew Baxter, President of the preceding Annual Assembly
of the Wesleyan Association took the chair at nine o'clock, and the business
of the day was introduced by singing and prayer.

The list of Association Circuits entitled to send Representatives was read
over by the Rev. Robert Eckett ; and the certificates presented by persons

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

410 The Annual Assemhly.

claiming to sit aa members . of the ABsembly were examined by the Con-
nexional officers. After this, the credentials of the Keform brethren were
duly examined.

ELECTION OF PRESIDENT.

The next business was the election of the Connexion al officers, before
proceeding to which it was resolved, on the motion of the Rev. W.'Reed,
Corresponding Secretary, seconded by Mr. Howe, of Manchester, the Con-
nexioual Treasurer : —

'/ That, as it is desirable the election of the Connexional officers, to be
chosen by this Assembly, should be by a clear majority of all the brethreu
voting in the election of the said officers, in the event of it appearing, after
taking the votes for either of the Connexional officers, that neither of the
brethren nominated and voted for has received a majoiity of all the votes
given, then the names of the two brethren for whom the largest number of
votes has been given shall again be submitted to the ballot, and the brother
then having the highest number of votes shall be declared duly elected. ,

The llevs. James Everett and Robert Eckett were nominated for the
Presidency.

The votes of the brethren were then taken and examined by the Con-
nexional officers ; after which '

The Ex-President declared the result of the ballot to be as follows ;— j
Rev. James Everett, 68 ; Rev. Robert Eckett, 28 ; Rev. James Molineux, 1. |
The Rev. James Everett was therefore duly elected President.

Election ofSbcrbtart. — Mr. Benson, of Newcastle-on-Tyne, nominated
the Rev. Robert Eckett for Secretary, and the Rev. A. Gilbert seconded
the nomination.

The votes were then taken, and the President declared the result to be ■
as under :~Rev. R. Eckett, 95 ; Rev. T. A. Bailey, 1 ; Rev. W. Reed, 1 ;
Mr. J. Benson, 1 .

The Rev. Robert Eckett (who previously had expressed a wish to
be relieved from the duties of an official station) said he certainly felt
gratified with the very near approach to unanimity by which his election
had been effected ; and with such an expression of the feeling of the
Assembly, he should certainly deem it an act of disrespect if he were to
refuse to accept the office they had so graciously put him into. At the
same time, had the choice of the brethren fallen on some one else, he would
have felt it to be a great relief. For many years he had placed himself
at the service of the Association, and had done all in his power to further
the great object they all had in view ; and he hoped, so long as he enjoyed
the confidence of his brethren, to continue to do so. He again thanked
them for this renewed testimonial of their kindness and regard.

The Rev. T. A Bailey, and Mr. J. A. Benson were then appointed
Assistant Secretaries to the Assembly.

AFTERNOON SITTING.

The Rev. Thomas Barlow and the Rev. Thomas Hacking were appomteJ
a Sub-Committee to prepare the draft of an address to the churches.

Designation of the United Churches. — The Secretary said he Lad
drafted a resolution which he wished to lay before the Assembly, as it
related to a subject in which many of the brethren felt a deep interest.
That resolution related to what might be the future designation of the
amalgamated churches. He had conversed with many friends, and
he thought he had gathered the opinions of a large number ui)on the
point. He did not know that all whom he had consulted exactly coincided
in his own idea in relation thereto ; but he felt some confidence in the
belief that, after it had been discussed, they would come to pretty much
the same conclusion. It could hardly be supposed that, though a strong
feeling existed on the subject of their future designation, any of the societies

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Assembly. 411

would carry it so far as to say, that their union depended upon the decision
arrived at ; still lie thought they ought to adopt such a designation, as
would allow the greatest amount of freedom. Nor was it to be supposed
that for some time to come, at least, all the societies could be brought to
adopt the same designation. Already in some places they had adopted
distinctive appellations, such as *' Wesleyan Free Church," " Methodist
Heform Church," &c., &c. He did not anticipate that any step taken by
tlie Assembly would induce them to alter these titles. The aim, therefore,
must be to endeavour to fix upon something like a generic term which
might stand for the whole, and yet allow a certain measure of local liberty.
His proposition, therefore, was :— *' That in the judgment of this Assembly
the amalgamated churches of the Methodist Beformers and the "Wesleyau
Methodist Association should, as a Connexion, be designated * The United
Methodist Churches,' and that this designation be recommended to the
approval of the churches, in order that it may, as soon as is consistent with
the provisions of the Foundation Deed, be legally adopted ; — that, in the
meantime, the annual meeting of the representatives be designated *The
Annual Assembly of the United Churches of the Wesleyan Methodist
Association and the Metliodist Eeformers,' and that this be the designation
at present afSxed to our Connexional documents and publications." To
him (Mr. Eckett) it appeared that this arrangement would be perfectly
consistent with what they, were and the position in which they stood.
They professed to regard each of their circuits, and, in some cases, more
than that — each separate society as a church. Connexionally they became
a union of Methodist churches united not for the purpose of exercising
authority or power in any question aifecting the government of the church,
but for general church purposes, and, in some cases, for calling out, con-
stituting and maintaining a Connexional ministry, but not making that a
sine qua non of church union. If the Assembly adopted the proposition
now submitted, there would be no necessity for an alteration in the title
of the body, whatever other churches became imited with them in future
years.

Mr. Chipchase suggested the propriety of deferring the discussion of
this topic until the following day, seeing that many Beform brethren, who
felt strongly on the point, had not yet arrived, and they would be disap-
pointed if, when they came, they found the matter was disposed of. Per-
sonally he did not attach much importance to it, but with some it was
regarded in a very different light.

The Ex-President fully agreed in the suggestion, that it would be wise
to take up the question at a later period of the sittings of the Assembly.
The consideration of the subject was therefore adjourned. •
Thakks to the Ex-President.— Mr. Charles Cheetham, of Hey wood,
moved a vote of thanks to the lie v. Matthew Baxter for the able manner
in which he had discharged the duties of the office of President during the
past year.

The Bev. S. S. Barton seconded the motion. He had had the opportu-
nity to witness the conduct of the ex-President, not only during the sitting
of the last Annual Assembly, but also during the whole of his year of office.
He had met with him on several occasions, and could bear testimony to the
fidelity, and ability, and assiduity with which he has discharged his
duties. He was sure that they would all agree that he was fully entitled
to their warmest thanks, as well for his faithful performance of the onerous
duties of his office as for the urbanity and kindness of manner which had
characterised all his communications with the brethren.
The motion was at once, and with the utmost cordiality, adopted.
The Ex-President said, he felt deeply indebted to the Assembly for the
expression of its approval of his services, and of the manner in which they

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

412 The Annual Assembly,

had been rendered. No individaal present could be more sensible than
himself of the infirmities with which he had been encompass^ ; his chief
satisfaction arose from the conviction that, however feebly he had filled
the office to which he had been appointed, he had done aU that he coald
(and he said it without any violation of conscience) to be as efficient an
occupant of the presidential chair as possible. He believed, to the best of
his judgment, he had not given just cause of offence to any one; it had
been his aim not to do so ; and he was grateful to the brethren on this
occasion for the kind manner in which they had been pleased to acknow-
ledge his efforts. One thing he ought to say, and that was, that he owed a
large debt of gratitude to the brethren of every class and kind (if he
might 80 speak of them) for the confidence they had manifested and the
generous treatment they had shown towards him under every circum-
stance, both in public and in private. He believed that no President
ever had more occasion to feel grateful to his brethren than he had.

Thanks to the Eb-Elected Secretary. — The Rev. John Peters moved
a vote of thanks to the Bev. Bobert Eckett for the able and untiring ser-
vices rendered by him to the Association in the discharge of the duties of
his office as Connexional Secretary during the past year. In doing so, he
said he would not occupy a moment of time. Those who had acted longest
with Mr. Eckett, and had seen most of the tact, and zeal, and energy
which he always displayed in the fulfilment of his duties, would best be
able to appreciate his services, and to them no words of recommendation
wiDre necessary to secure the adoption of the resolution.

Mr. E. Kipling, of Darlington, seconded the motion, which was unani-
mously agreed to.

The llev. Robert Eckett said he felt a considerable amount of gratifi-
cation at the kindness which had been manifested towards him that day
by his brethren in reference to his past services. It was true that he had
endeavoured, according to the best of his ability, to promote the interests
of that section of the Ohurch of Christ with which they were more parti-
cularly identified ; and he was happy in being able to say, that, though. for
many years he had been in some form or other officially connected with
the Wesleyan Association, and had in that way been brought into frequent
contact with a considerable number of his brethren, there had never, that
he was aware of, been aught but the utmost cordiality of feeling among
them. He believed there was not one amongst them with whom he had
not been, and still was, on terms of the most perfect amity, and with whom
he could not review the past with the most entire satisfaction. He was
happy also to be able to say, that, so far as related to the Connexional
Committee, nothing had transpired which was of a contrary cha-
racter. They had striven together in the most cordial and fraternal spirit
for the glory of their one Lord and Master Jesus Christ, and he believed
that their firm and united resolve for the future was to " mind the same
things."

Circuit Communications. — The Assembly then proceeded to receive
and read communications from Circuits, Societies, &c.

District Meetings. — Mr. Benson brought up a resolution passed at the
Newcastle Circuit meeting, recommending to the Annual Assembly the
propriety of providing for the holding of District meetings throughout the
Connexion, as calculated to promote the good order of the several Circuits,
and tending to economise the time and labour of the Annual Assembly.

Messrs. Chipchase, Whiteley, Patterson, Green, Cheetham, Newton,
Baxter, Dixon, Chew, Rowland, and G. Rowland, spoke ou the general
question.

After which the Rev. William Reed said he had a resolution to propose
which he felt would meet the views of the brethren generally. It was—

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Assembly. 413

" That, in the judgment of this Assembly, the establishment of distriet
meetings throughout the Connexion would be promotive of the interests^
of the amalgamated body ; and that it be referred to a Committee of
twelve to consider in what manner districts should be formed, and what
their functions should be ; and that such Committee report thereon to
this Assembly at an early period." He thought that, in all probability,
the district meeting might subserve an important purpose in making pro-
vision for holding Missionary services throughout the Connexion. Most
of those present were conscious of the difl&culty experienced in arranging
meetings for Missionary purposes from time to time, and it often occurred.
that in two or three places the same period was fixed on for a meetings
and anxiety was felt in each for the services of the same individual. This,
was only one among other advantages which might be suggested.

Mr. Green said he was willing to accept Mr. Eeed's motion in place of
his own.

The Kev. Thomas Hacking was willing to support the motion in its*
amended form. It was important, if they were to have district meetings,,
that they should have them as early as possible. .In his opinion, they
would very powerfully influence those circuits which, as yet, were not.
united to them, and induce them to become amalgamated ; and if that
influence could be brought to bear in the coming year, it would tell mor&
powerfully than at any future time. With their constitution fts it wasw
DO danger to, but rather a conservation of, the Counexional principle
would be the result.

The President confessed that he could see no ground for jealousy leslt
the independence of the circuits should be infringed by the establishment
of district meetings, provided they were conducted on proper principles.

The motion was then put and agreed to.

The following brethren were appointed the Committee to consider the*
subject : — The ex-President, Rev. J. Peters, W. Heed, J. Molyneux, and.
W. Patterson, and Messrs. Whiteley, Benson, Green, John Cuthbertson>
Chipchase, Cheetham, and Massingham. ^

The proceedings of the day were closed with prayer.

Thursday.— Second Day.

The next Annual Assembly. — The Secretary reminded the bretlhTera
that before the present Assembly broke up, it would be necessary to fiy::
the time and place of the next. Probably many of the Reform circuits'
would be ambitious to entertain the representatives, and he had therefore^
mentioned the matter thus early that they might be communicated with
before it was necessary for the Assembly to come to a decision.

Circuit Communications.-— The Assembly then proceeded to readl
further cimmunications from circuits.

The Itinerant Ministry. A resolution from the Rochdale circuift
quarterly meeting was brought up and read, urging upon the Annual!
Assembly to adhere to the present arrangement of limiting the stations
of the traveUing preachers to three years.

The Rev. James Molineux said that he, as one of the representatives of
the circuit, had been desired to urge this matter upon the Assembly. Th-e
Rochdale friends generally were in love with the present Connexional
arrangements. Many of them had been connected with the Methodist
body for years, and they believed that in a connexion of churches a fixed
period of itinerancy would work best. He was aware that in the Associa-
tion, as at present constituted, there was provision made for the continu-
ance, under peculiar circumstances, of a preacher for more than three

Digitized by VjOOQiC

414 The Annual Assembly,

years in one circuit. If it could be shown to the Annual Assembly that
the reasons for such an extension were satisfactory, and the Assembly by
a majority of five-sixths of its members agreed to it, a man might remain
in one circuit ten or even twenty years. But those whom he represented
thought that, in a Connexion of churches, where all were brethren, it would
be trenching upon the privileges and claims of many of the circuits if tlie
matter were to be thrown open without any limitation. In such case, a
few of the more wealthy circuits would select the best men, and the poorer
would be left to their chance ; and such a course was certainly not a
fraternal, not to say a wise one, in their position as a Connexion. They
had found out, too, by experience that, generally speaking, three years was
qnite long enough. This, too, he believed, was the feeling of most inde-
pendent churches, in which the duration of ministerial labour did not
average much, if any more. The changes which took place in those
churches were more frequent than was generally supposed ; and though,
in some rare instances, the same pastor had watched over a given church
for thirty or forty years, in a vast number of instances they did not remain
as many months. Under all the circumstances, the friends at Bochdale
would much rather that things remained as they were, and their repre-
sentatives were instructed to press the matter upon the Assembly.

The Secretary thought it would not be wise to raise a discussion upon
the subject. The resolution of the Rochdale circuit did not allege that
there was any defection from the ordinary practice of the body ; it merely
urged the Assembly to " walk by the same rule " that they had hitherto
walked ; and he for one did not know that there was any intention to do
otherwise.

The Rev. T. Rowland said, it was a remark of the late Matthew Henry
that the first seven years of a minister's labours in any locality were usu-
ally the most successful, and the most happy to himself, and for those
amongst whom he ministered.

The Rev. J. Petals said he thought the caution on the part of the Roch-
dale friends was ve^ unnecessary ; for if they had, as Mr. Molineux said,
discovered that three years was quite long enough to have a preacher (and
he had laboured amongst them), why then there was no danger of their
infringing upon the principle they recommended, and which had always
prevailed in the Association. He (Mr. Peters) was of opinion that this
was one -of the matters which should be left to its natural action, and he
would not like any interference with it. If it so happened that a preacher
was labouring usefully and acceptably in a circuit, and the people desired
it, he did not see the objection to his remaining a fourth year. Although,
under very different circumstances, the present system had worked very
well in the past, he did not desire to see it so stereotyped upon their con-
stitution that no departure could be admitted when it was felt to be for
general advantage.

The Rev. S. S. Barton thought it desirable that the subject should he
thoroughly ventilated, and that, as they were now an amalgamated body,
the feelings of the brethren should be understood. There was, he believed,
a growing conviction among the Association societies that the present rule
should sometimes be dispensed with, and that in cases where brethren
were labouring happily and usefully with their churches, they should be
permitted to labour on.

Mr. Petrie, of Rochdale, said that in their quarterly meeting there was a
feeling expressed that the present Itinerant system was somewhat in
danger; and so strongly was that felt and apprehended, that they had
deemed themselves called upon to pass the resolution which had been
presented.

After some observations from Mr. DLxon and Mr. Eckett,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Assembly. 415

The Rev. H. Breedon corroborated the statements of Mr. Petrie, and
said the opinion in Bochdale was very decided that no departure from ex*
isting regulations should be sanctioned by the Assembly, especially as
there was already a provision for continuing a preacher in the Mme circuit
for a longer period than three years, if desirable. This they felt ought to
be regarded as the exception, and not the rule of proceeding, believing,
that, upon the whole, the system of three years' itinerancy had worked
well in the past. Some of the friends were of opinion that the period in
which the English Conference permitted only a two years' appointment
was the most successful in the history of Methodism. They had also looked
across to America, where they found a change had taken place in the
reverse order ; they began with three years, and had now adopted appoint-
ments.for two years only, and the friends thought they discerned that this
arrangement worked better than the former. With these views they hoped
the Assembly would adhere to the present system, believing that any ex-
tension in the direction a^l^rehendea would not serve the interests of the
CJonnexion.

The Secretary said he had no doubt that the question now before the
Assembly might come up in a particular shape at a subsequent period of
their sittings. The circumstance which had given rise to the Rochdale
recommendation was, that they wanted a man who had been invited and had
promised to stay a fourth year in another circuit. He would now move —

" That the Quarterly Meeting of the Rochdale Circuit be informed that
the Assembly has no reason to anticipate any intention to depart from the
practice heretofore adopted by the Association of an itinerancy for three
years."
The Rev. C. H. Breedon seconded the motion.

The Rev. J. S. Barton could not consistently vote for the resolution, as he
was inclined to believe that it was the intention to seek a departure from
the ordinary course hitherto adopted.

The Rev. W. Patterson, of Whitehaven, thought it was not politic to
introduce such a resolution untiUit was proposed to do something to alter
the present system. At the quarterly meeting of his circuit the subject
vras introduced and thordfcghly discussed, and the friends generally thought
that the proviso requiring one-sixth of the Annual Assembly to reject the
proposition for a preacher remaining more than three years should be got
rid of, and that it should be left to the decision of a simple majority to
determine year by year where the preacher should be stationed. There was
an opinion expressed in that meeting that the too rigid adherence to the
itinerant system would not work so wCU as a concession to the wishes of the
parties, when both preacher and people desired a longer connection than the
three years.

The Rev. W. Reed did not see how Mr. Barton could, with propriety,
assert that there was an intention to depart from the established custom.
An alteration of this kind could onlj, in accordance with the Foundation
Deed, be made at certain periods— viz., at the expiration of ten years from
1848, and so on ; so that, if the Assembly were so disposed, they had not,
at present, power to make the change.

The Rev. Marmaduke Miller could not vote for the motion. The circuit
which he represented had, on four distinct occasions, invited a preacher to
remain a fourth year, and, therefore, to affirm that there was no intention to
depart from the principle of a three years itinerancy could not be right.
In answer to Mr. Green,

The Secretary said that the extract read by Mr. Reed from the clause in
the Foundation Deed was quite correct and m point. There were several
things in the practice of the Association which could only be legally altered
or modified at certain intervals of time, and this was a matter brought under

Digitized by VjOOQIC

416 The Annual Assembly,

the notice of the Special Committee on Union. It was, howeter, only
just to add, that the brethren were informed, thq.t there would be a wil-
lineness on the part of the Association to listen to any proposed alterations;
and, wherever practicable, if mutually ag^ed to, they might be carried out
even before they were legally binding. -

Mr. Green submitted that, if Mr. Reed's statement were correct, there
was no necessity for Mr. Eckett's resolution, which affirmed, that the
Assembly did not mean to do what it was not in their power to do.

The Rev. W. Dawson did not believe there was a very strong feeling in
the Connexion generally in favour of a four or five years' itinerancy. So
far as Leeds was concerned, it Was neither the wish of the Asaociation
friends nor the Reformers. He believed there was but one instance in
which the Assembly had departed from three year appointments, and that
was at Manchester, except, perhaps, at Camelford, where three circuits were
united in one.

Mr. Lawes, as one of the members of the Special Committee, would state,
that this was a subject which came before them, and his own personal
opinion on that occasion was, that, in the Association, they had hit upon
exactly the right method of procedure in connection with their itinerancy;
viz., that of reserving to themselves the power to depart from the usnal
course when a longer residence than three years appeared to be desirable.
If the principle were to be generally recognised that a man might stay tea
or twenty years in a circuit, he was at a loss to conceive upon what principle
the Assembly could act in appointing their men. It was perfectly reason-
able that in exceptional cases there should be a power in the Assembly to
act upon a different principle to that usualljr adopted ; and surely the circuits
might trust five-sixths of their representatives to do that which they felt to
be right. One of the questions proposed at the meeting of the Special
Committee was, " Can a preacher stay more than three years in a circuit ?"
The answer was, " Yes ; but it is an exceptional case."

Mr. Benson said that they would be in the happy position of being able to
discuss this matter legally next year, and he thought that an answer to that
effect might, without disrespect, be sent to the Rochdale friends.

Mr. Chipchase said, at the time the motion was introduced, he thought it
was uncalled for ; but he had since arrived at a different opinion. He had
not previously been aware that there was any feeling in the circuits in
reference to the matter ; but, understanding that there was, he thought some
such resolution as that proposed by the Secretary was necessary. He could
subscribe heartily to the remarks made bj Mr. Lawes as to the impression
made upon the Special Committee on this point, and he was led, with his
worthy colleague from Bristol, to believe that the itinerant system in the
Association was as nearly perfect as the present state of things would
allow. He quite believed that ordinarily, at the expiration of three years,
it would be for the mutuar advantage of preacher and people that they
should have a change ; and he could easily understand, too, that, when
brethren found themselves snugly ensconced in a nice circuit, with comfort-
able, hearty people about them, they would very much prefer settling down
as Congregatienal preachers. But from very early prejudices, as well as
from lengthened experience, he (Mr. Chipchase) was very much attached to
Methodism. He had almost said, " Methodism as it is," which would not,
perhaps, have been so much beside the mark, seeing that he believed the
system of agency which Methodism employed for the work of evangelizing
the world, and also in financial matters, was one which could not very much
be improved upon. He, as an individual, would deprecate very much indeed
any serious tendency in the direction named. He felt that that which had
made Methodism so effective in the earlier periods of its history was
the constant changing and interchanging of labours going on in the Con-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Assembly. 417

nezioD. He belieTed, too, that Mr. Mblineax was correct when he said,
that it was not generally known how frequent were the changes taking
place in Independent Chnrches. People were apt to look here and there,
and, seeing a Congregational minister who, perhaps, had heen over a Chnrch
for many years, conclude that such was the ordinary state of things ; hut it
was not so; these were hut exceptional cases. Changes amongst them were
veiy frequent, and would often he more so, if they had the opportunities
which the Methodist system afforded. In yery many Congregational
Churches they would he glad to get rid of their ministers, if they knew hut
how to do it conveniently ; and he knew that many of them would cheer-
My emhrace any plan which would enahle them to do so. If any alteration
in the method now adopted in the Association were permitted, the circuits
would immediately begm to feel that it was a very delicate matter to bring
about a change, however much they wished it. They woidd feel that u
they did not make a point of inviting the preacher to remain longer, they
would pain his mind ; and this they would shrink from doing. But as
matters now stood, it followed as a matter of course that the preacher
left at the expiration of his period of three ^ears ; and he must be a very
extraordinary man as a preacher, and the circuit must contain some extra-
ordinary men as members, if they would not both be glad to see a change.
Then there was another reason. They were just now at the commencement
of a new era, and they must not lose sight of the fact. There were a
number of applications from brethren who wished to enter upon the itine*
rant ministry, and he thought they ought to understand at the threshold
that they were not to settle down for five or ten years in any place. Let
them understand that they would have to make sacrifices, if necessary, and
that, like the Methodist preachers in early days, they would have to do much
of the work of evangelists in the world. As to the objection raised by Mr.
Benson, although legally no alteration could this year be made in the pre-
sent system, yet there could be no harm in having such a resolution as this
upon the Minutes of the Assembly, because he sincerely hoped they would
keep up the itinerancy in the real sense of the word. One thing which had
very much led to the comparative ine£Glciency of modem Conference Me-
thodism was the needless division of circuits and the modifications in the
itinerant system which had been carried out.

Mr. G. W. Harrison, of Wakefield, said it appeared to him that this was
a subject which embraced so extensive a range of thought and feelinff in the
body, and one so extremely delicate in the minds of many who had
not entered very fully into its working, that the Assembly would do
harm rather than good by passing any resolution upon it at the present
time ; and he was strongly of opinion that, after the discussion which had
taken place, every necessary object would be accomplished by passing on to
the order of the day. There were many societies among the Wesleyan
Keformers holding back irom union to see what was done by the Annual
Assembly at its present sittings, and if this resolution were adopted
there were persons who would take advantage of it in urging those societies
still to keep aloof. Individually, he thought the system hitherto adopted in
the Association of a three years itinerancy, with the power to deal with
exceptional and special cases, was a good and safe one ; and he did not
believe there was anything like a general feeling in favour of any altera-
tion, which, as had been stated, could not, even if they desu*ed it, be now
legally accomplished.

The Rev. T. Hacking said, it was impossible for the Assembly to come to
a conclusion until they had an opportunity of knowing the feeling of the
people upon the su^'ect. He thought, however, that sufficient security was
thrown around the Itinerant system by the practice of requiring invitations
to be given from year to year. The constitution of their body admitted of

2 D

Digitized by VjOOQIC

418 Th$ Annual Auembfy.

the pomibility of a miniater becoming stationary if he ihaufht fit, ^fluMit
either he or the Church over which he took the pastorate being cat off from
the Annual Assembly. The only alteration, he would suggest was that tlie
clause in the Foundation Deea requiring that one-sixtii of the Annual
Assembly should object to a preacner remaining more than three yeazs
should be taken out, and the decision left with the simple majority.

Mr. Colman, of Holt, oonsidered the resolution was not necessary. He
was most anxious that the itinerancy diould be preserved intact ; bat he
would not Uke the idea to get abroad that, though a circuit desired a minii-
ter's continuance with them for a longer period than three years, he could
be remored by the Assembly. This would be regarded most certainly as an
interference with circuit independence. They ought to be clear upon the
IK>int, whether the yote of the Assembly could orerride the wishes of the
circuit in this matter.

Mr. Cheetham said it did not appear to him that the Bochdale friendi
desired, or that the communication they had forwarded, called for a farmal
affirmation on the sulgect. He therefore would move, as an amendment,
<< That the communication be receiyed, acknowledged, and entered on the
Minutes."

Mr. G. W. Harrison seconded the amendment

The discussion was prolonged by Messrs. Laxton, of Blackburn ; Wales,
of York; Wilkinson and Mawson, of Leeds; and the Key. Messrs. Chew
and Dawson.

The Rey. M. Baxter, ex-President, said he preferred the amendment to
thQ resolution. There was some truth in the latter ; but still it was adapted,
and perhaps would almost necessarily convey a wrong impression as to the
exact facts of the case. It was true that the Assembly could not at present
constitutionally, and that they as a body did not purpose making any mateml
alteration ; bat he was convinced that there were several persons in the
Assembly, and a still greater number in the Connexion, who entertained the
opinion that, in some instances, an appointment ought to last longer than it
had hitherto been the custom to permit ; and he believed that when the time
came to make any alteration, the minority having the right to veto the
^pointment should be increased firom one-sixth to one-four&, or even one-
third. For this reason he should support the amendment, which would
leave them uncommitted to the adoption of any course whatever ; for though
one Assembly was not bound by the decisions of another, yet the natural
impression would be, if the resolution passed, that the next Assembly would
be inclined to adhere to the practice heretofore adopted.

The Secretary having replied at some length, the amendment was then
put and carried by a large majority.

Thursdat.— July 30.

Wbush Mission. — An address from the annual meeting of the represen-
tatives of the Welsh societies, was read. It described the present state and
prospects of the Welsh societies, acknowledged the pecuniary aid received,
and requested farther assistance.

After some conversation, the communication was referred to the Finan-
cial Committee.

AFTERNOON SITTING.

. Address to the CHURCHBS.—Tbe Kevs. John Steele and Q. Rawson
were appointed to prepare the draft of an address to the churches in Jamaica.
The Be vs. T. Newton and J. Mann were appointed to prepare the draft
of an address to the churches in Australia.
Design ATioN of the Amaxoamated Societies. — The Secretary then moved
— " That, in the judgment of this Assembly, the amalgamated churches of

Digitized by VjOQ^I^

The Annual Asiembly. . 419

the Methodist Refonners and of the Wesleyan Methodist Association
should, as a Connexion, be designated the 'United Methodist Churches'—
that this designation be recommended to the approral of the churches, in
order that it may, at the next Annual Assembly, in consistency with the
provisioBa of the Foundation Deed, be legally adot)ted— that in the mean-
time the annual meetin$( of the representatives of the amalgamated
churches be designated, 'The Annual Assembly of the United Churches of
the Wesleyan Association and Methodist Eeformers,' and that this desigf-
nation be affixed to our Connexional documents and publications."
In support of his proposal, he said that, according to the provisions of the
Foundation Deed, the title of the Association could only be altered by the
consent, in certain proportions, of two successive annual assemblies, — t'. «.,
if the present assembly, by a naajority of two-thirds of the representatives
agreed to any alteration, and such alteration was confirmed at the next
Assembly in like manner, then the designation so fixed upon would be legal
and binding. It appeared to him that the title he had just proposed was
one that must be acceptable to all the brethren present as a good generic
term, lliey were assembled that day as a body of men advocating liberal
principles, and because the proposition now submitted was thoroughly
liberal, he could not anticipate that there would be any objection to it.
He was aware that several designations had been suggested. Some persons
had said that they ought to adopt for their societies the title of
"Methodist Free Churches," others had recommended ** Methodist Reform
Churches," and he had heard one brother say, '*Let us be called 'Metho-
dist Congregational Churches.*" Now it did not accord with his (Mr.
Eckett*s) views of the New Testament that their congregations were
churches, and he had often thought it was a sad misnomer in a certain
section that they were so called. In reference to the title '' Methodist Free
Church," that was a very favourite designation with some brethren — but
with others it was not. There were a great many members and estimable*
friends of the Association who would not be disposed to submit to any
attempt to impose that designation upon them, and it appeared to him
very desirable to find some term in which they could all agree without
violating the feeling of any man. Some might say, '' Why not use the
word * Wesleyan V " Just for this reason, that others objected to the use of
the name of any man. It would also tend to make the designation much
longer than was necessary. The title which he suggested was not a new
one, it was a thoroughly primitive Methodist designation with one tri^g'
alteration ; and, although that fact did not go for much with him, there
were many to whom it would thereby come with acceptance. The argu-
ment whidh told most in i|ts fiivour with him was this, that every body of
Christum believers united together for the purpose of spreading God's
word and administering Gospel ordinances constituted a new Testament
Church, whether they met in one given locality or in four or five dijSerent
places within what was called a circuit. This he regarded as a fundamen-
tal principle and he believed it would be fully recognised in the designa-
tion he had chosen. Then, as the brethren came together as the represen-
tatives of these churches, their proper generic term was " United Ch arches."
He hardly anticipated that there would be any serious difference between
Ihem on the subject to lead to a lengthened debate, and therefore would
not say more in moving the resolution.

Mr.* Chipchase rose, not for the purpose of seconding it, but to ask
whether it would not be better, before entering upon the discussion of a de-
finite proposition, to have a free conversation upon the general subject. It
often happened that when questions like this came to be ventilated, and
Eresh light thrown upon them by the free interchange of thought, a more
iatisfactory result was arrived at.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

420 7%e Annual Assembfy.

Metm. HarriflOD, Barton, and Green ooncnrred in the soggestioii tbiown
oat hy the laat speaker.

Mr. Petrie, on the other hand, objected; and, to bring the qnestloii Cedrly
before the Aaaembly, aeoonded Mr. Eckett's motion.

Mr. Thompson said the reaolntion was in perfect accordance with hu
Tiewa, and he thought it had been most happily constmcted. The title mo-
poMd was short, expressiye, and applicable, and he did not believe tnej
ooald find another name so well adapted to indicate the clrcamstances of
their case.

The RcT. W, Patterson moTed, and the Rev. Thomas Hacking seeonded
ma, amendment: — "That the motion be considered in committee of the
whole honse ;** which, upon a show of hands, was carried.

Mr. Benson said the (act was tolerably patent to public obaeryation, that
the two parties to the amalgamation had instinctively attached themselves
to distinct names for their future designation. The Wesleyan Beformers in
delegate meeting, did almost unanimously resolve that the name should be
— " Wesleyan Methodist Free Church ;** while the Association, perhaps
less officially, but quite as distinctly, had evinced a preference for the title—
*' United Methodist Churches.** It occurred to him, however, that by the
exibition of a little kindliness of feeling on both sides, mutual satisfaction
in the matter might be attained. It seemed to him desirable that they
should fix upon a title which would not only aptly describe the Annual Aji-
sembly, in its collective character, but would be appropriate when used in
every announcement of local and occasional services. Viewed in this light,
the term " united" was open to objection. Personally, he would prefer the
title — '' Methodist Free Church ;** but in deference to those who inclined to
the opinion of their worthy Secretary, he would suggest the adoption of the
terras— " United Methodist Free Churches." He verily believed they
would do honour to themselves by avowing the liberty they enjoyed as
a religious community in the name by which they consented to be known.
Some persons had said that by such a title they would be casting the stigma
of bondage upon other communities. All he could say was, that he hoped
so long as the state of things continued in the body out of which man^ of
those now present had come, they would neither be ashamed nor unwilling
to avow the principles by which they had been actuated in leaving it. It
had been said, that if the word ^ free" were added to the title proposed hy
Mr. Eckett, it would make the appellation altogether too Ion? ; but then it
would not always be necessary to employ the whole in making announce-
ments. There was one reason which mainly influenced him in urging the
introduction of that little word. It was notorious that this amalgamation
represented unhappily but a comparatively small portion of the entire body
of Wesleyan Reformers. Those brethren who were not represented deemed
themselves the most democratic ; at any rate, they talked the loudest of in-
dependence and liberty, and it was because they had the idea, that attaching
themselves to a Connexion like this did, in some way or other, lessen thdt
liberty, that they held aloof, and were looking on askance at the present
Assembly to see whether those who composed it meant what they said in
asserting their freedom. To them he believed the introduction of the little
word ** free" would give a large amount of encouragement ; and though it
was to him a matter of indifierence whether they were called free so as they
really enjoyed freedom, yet, if they could so engraft the idea on their reiy
designation as to relieve the consciences of those who were zealous for the
proclamation of their prlTileges, it would certainly be a desirable end to
secure.

Mr. Oddy, of Leeds, and Mr. Unwin, of Sheffield, briefly expressed their
views in favour of the introduction of the word "free."

Mr. G. W. Harrison was afraid that the adoption of the term * United"

Digitized by VjOOQIC

7%e Annual Assembly. 42}

would only render them liable to become the subjects of satire and ridicule
with their former acquaintance, inasmuch as their body only embraced
a certain proportion of the Methodist family. There were Conference
Methodists, Galvinistic Methodists, Primitive MeUiodists, and New Con-
nexion Methodists ; and though neither of these communities adopted the
style " churches," yet there was not sufficient distinction in the title now
proposed for the amalgamated societies to mark the real points of difference
between them. Brother Benson's suggestion met the case, and, if adopted,
their designation would indicate to the world, not only their amalgamation,
but the claim they asserted to freedom in matters of ecclesiastical polity.
He believed, too, that it would have a beneficial tendency upon those who
as yet had not cast in their lot with them. If he had one desire in refer-
ence to the subject more than another, it was that they should look upon
those who still stood aloof, not as occupying a position antagonistic to
them, but as remaining apart for the present only. He hoped, too, that the
associated societies would take this or some other mode of reminding the
Christian public that there was still a class of Methodists in bondage, By
adopting tne title " free" they would be a standing protest against the con*
stitution and erder of Conference Methodism.

Mr. Wormald, of Edinburgh, referred to the Scotch Free Church, which
was a standing, practical protest against tbe establishment, and which was
doing a great work in that part of the nation. It had contributed more for
the support of religion in the north than all the rest of the communities
put together; and, during the last fifteen or sixteen years, had raised
upwards of half-a-million of money for its own necessities, exclusive of
its missionary efforts. He approved entirely of Mr. Benson's sugges-
tions.

Mr. Colman, of Holt, said he had a strong feeling on this subject. I
was not, however, with him a question of prmciple, but of detail ; never-
theless, he desired that what they did in reference to it should be done in
the best possible manner, and so as to secure the best possible results.
Although he would be willing to accept the designation proposed by the
Secretary, supposing the Assembly adopted it, he confessed that it was not
entirely to his taste. He did not like the title "United Methodist
Churches,** because he did not believe the thing existed in such a manner as
to commend itself to any careful observer of passing events. It would
apply, after all, to a comparatively small minority of the Methodist com-
munity, and, therefore, to adopt it would convey anything but a satisfactory
impression to an intelligent inquirer. He would like the title ''free,"
because it accurately expressed the leading feature of their constitution as
opposed to the state of bondage out of which they had emerged ; and he
believed its adoption would produce a powerful impression upon the minds
of thousands of their friends, who, like them, having escaped from the
slavery of Conference Methodism, were apprehensive of uniting themselves
to any other religious community in which the smallest portion of that ek-
ment could be supposed to exist.

The Bev. Marmaduke Miller said, the last speaker had laid great stress
upon the word " free," as though they wer^ not free, and as though the
title '* United Methodist Churches" would convey an idea inimioal to freedom.
He confessed that he thought that a man who was quite free, and felt that
he was so, would not always be talking about it ; and he certainly did not
believe it was at all necessary to call themselves " free" to let the public into
the fact of their freedom. At the same time, he had no antipathy to the
word, and his only objection to its adoption would be, that it made their
title unnecessariljr long. The Anti-state Church Association, some years
back, changed their designation tp ** The Society for the Liberation of Beli-
gion from State Patronage and Control," and that name was so generally

Digitized by VjOOQIC

499 The Annual Aisernhfy

felt io be cqmbronBy that its abbreviated title, '^ Beligioos libeiatioii So-
ciety," was most usually employed.

Mr. Withiofftou approved of the resolution, aa it accorded vi^ the viewB
eo^preased by the bretnren at the last Nottingham circuit meeting.

The Bey. W. Patterson said the Whitehaven Wesleyan Association
Circuit objected to any alteration in the name of the body. He had
informed them that the Beformers who were unitiug with them reqrured
it, lest it should appear that they had gone over to the Association, lliey,
therefore, agreed to the adoption of the title, *' United Methodist Chnrches,"
as ip. itself appropriate, and as not involving the possibility of a supposition
that the Association had gone over to the Beformers. The objection which
had been taken to the word *' United " was no more valid in this case than
it would if urged against its adoption in reference to one section of the
Presbyterians of Scotland, which, though called *' United Presbyterian
Church," did not| in fact, include a majority of the Presbyterians in the
country.

Mr. Harrison said he apprehended that the name, whatever it might
be, would not refer so much to local societies as to the assemblies and
documents of the united body.

The President said he conceived it could be understood in no other
sense.

The Secretary said for that very reason the introduction of the word
** free " would be most inappropriate, and would carry upon it bv implica-
tion an untruth. Supposing a number of the churches refused to adopt
the word " free,*' how could it be said that the Assembly was a union of
free churches 1 He had no strong personal feeling in the matter, bat he
knew that, though some of their friends were in favour of the word, otheis
had a Very great repugnance to its introduction. The title he had suggested
was one that would embrace all and give offence to none. As to their
being but a small bodv, the objection did not seem to have much weight,
inasmuch as, after all, they would be the only body which consisted of
united churches. The Methodist Conference constituted only one church,
and so with the others. Any collection of professed believers in Christ,
if they had not the government of themselves in themselves, but were
subject to a supreme court which had authority to govern in all matters
affecting membership, could not be regarded as a church in them-
selves. They formed but a part of the one church, composed of all
the societies which, like themselves, yielded allegiance to the snpreme
court that exercised the highest functions of church government, tie
admission and exclusion of members. The brethren present took different
ground, and claimed for the societies which they represented the right to
exercise those functions themselves. These, therefore, constituted churches,
and the compact which existed between them ftll was a union of churches.
As he said before, to adopt the word '* free " would be a mummer ^ for
many would not be bound by it.

The Ex-President inquired of the Secretary whether it was simply
a matter of opinion with him or an ascertained fact, that if the Assembly
adopted the desienation " M^hodist Free Church ^ there were some of
the societies which would not agree with them ?

The Secretary replied that, from the personal knowledge he had of the
state of opiniou in different parts of the Connexion there were many who
would not consent to call the church in their own localities *' Methodist
Free Church.*'

• The Bev. J. W. Gilchrist said there were two or three congregations
of ** Free Methodists *' in Camborne and St. Austell which would not be
likely to unite with them, and the adoption of a similar title would, to
Bay the least, be a great inoonven^ence.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Anemhly. 42S

The Rev. W. Reed swd at Northwioh the matter was taken up in the
quarterly meeting, and the opinion was pretty generally expressed that
the future designation should be " Methodist Free Church." It was also
an instruction from the circuit to their representatives to support that
view in the Annual Assembly. He had, however, suggested to them the
propriety of leaving the question open, as there might be a diversity of
opinion, and, when the matter came to be discussed, a more effective title
might be suggested. His own views, however, were entirely those of the
Northwioh friends, and he could not at all see the force of the objections
which had been urged against the term "free." It had been said -that
*' united" would be applicable at all times; so he hoped would be the
word **free." It did occur to him, however, that after all it was not
possible to fix the final designation of the body. There might be another
split from the old Conference Connexion before many years were over,
and the secessionists might be desirous of joining the amalgamated Beform
body, but object to take their designation, and the subject would have
to be reconsidered. Nor did he see that there was such peculiar appro-
priateness in the word <* united," because it could not be doubted that
there was as much union among other Methodist bodies as there was
among themselves. To call themselves, therefore, '* United Methodist
Oharches" was to adopt terms the exclusive use of which they were hardly
entitled to. Personally, he did not regard this question of a name as at
all an important matter, and he confessed that he should think lightly
of any man who would make his union with a church dependent upon
the name of that church. He hoped that the brethren were assembled
in the spirit of compromise as regarded non-essentialpoints ; and, thereforei
he would suggest that they should accept Mr. Eckett's three names,
*' United Methodist Churches," and Mr. Eckett should accept their one,
and interpolate the term " free."

The Bev. Jno. Peters thought it was foreclosing the discussion to say
that any of their people would not accept of this or that designation if
adopted by this Assembly. He had an impression, that if 'the reasons for
their decision, whatever it might be, were placed before the churches with
love and skill, they would be cordially adopted. He, with Mr. Colman^
was willing to take either designation, or a compound of both in one.
He did not believe that the term *• United Methodist Churches " would be
untruthful or absurd. He did not like to see anything put upon stilts or
unduly exaggerated, but he remembered that the United Presbyterian
Church of Scotluid — a very infiuentialbody — was by no means the largest
religious community in that country in regard to numbers. That church
was composed of the members of three sections of distinct churches, and,
fts they became more numerous, the title they assumed became more
^prppriate and so it would be in the present case.

Mr. Chipchase said, one thing was quite apparent to his mind, and that
was, that, whatever designation might be fixed upon, it would not be
universally adopted by sul the churches at once. His objection to Mr.
Eckett's proposal was, that it did not fairly a^d fully represent the character
of the amalgamated churches ; and if a work upon the ecclesiastical parties
of this country were to be written within a few years, the title suggested
would by no means convey an appropriate idea of their true position.
With the addition of the word "free," it would not be open to that
objection ; and, although the name which Mr. Benson had recommended
was not ^uite what he should like, yet, if the Assembly adopted it as a
compromise, he could not but feel that it would be pretty generally
acceptable. He must admit that the only word he was anxious about
was the word "free," and if that could be incorporated, he would offer
1^0 opposition to the other p^rt of the proposed title. Methodism was a

Digitized by VjOOQIC

424 The Annual AMmbly,

great fact ; it occopied an important podtion in the religions world ; and
the eyes of the public generaUj were directed towards it. But Methodism,
amongst enlightened men in the present day, had somewhat of a bad
name ; they associated it with despotism and oppression, so £ftr as its
ecdesiastiou arrangements were concerned ; and they were not very nmch
mistaken in their judgment. It had been objected by some of the brethren
that if the amalffltmated societies of the Informers and the Assodation
were to designate themselYes *' free," they would be casting a slur upon
the other sections of the Methodist family. He (Mr. Chipchase) believed,
nevertheless, that they were really and truly free; and, moreover, that
they were about the only section of the Methodist body who could lay
claun to be wholly and entirely so. He did not believe that any chnrcn
could be free, in the complete sense of the term, where a Conference ts
Annual Assembly, or any central authority, had the power to make lain
for the governance of all the members. He did not care how such Con-
ference or Assembly were constituted — whether composed of twomimsters
and one layman, or two laymen and one minister, or all laymen or all
ministers—the principle was the same ; and the existence of such a central
authority was inimical to perfect freedom. It was quite possible that, for
considerable periods, those societies might enjoy a large snare of apparent
liberty, because it might be neither expedient nor agreeable to the kw-
makers to put their great powers into exercise; but there was the latent
CAdl, needing only a favourable opportunity for its full development. Bat
the churches now amalgamalSsd recognised no such overriding power;
and, thefore, when they designated themselves " United Free Methodists,"
there appeared to him a singular appositeness in the title. He su^iested
to the consideration of Messrs. Eckett and Benson whether they could not
so blend the two propositions into one as to assure the unanimity of the
Assembly upon the point now under discussion. He felt sore that nothing
would exert a better influence upon the churches generally than to know
that this question had been decided by the unanimous vote of the
Assembly.

On the motion of the Secretary, the debate was then adjourned, and the
proceedings of the day terminated.

rEIDAT.--THIRD DAY.

The Assembly sat this morning with closed doors, and was engaged in
making the usnal inquiries as to the moral and miniBterial character of the
itinerant ministers. It is gratifying to know that there was no case brought
under the attention of the Assembly that called for the exercise of discipli-
nary measures.

AFTEBNOON SITTING.

After singing and prayer,

The adjourned debate on the designation of the united churches was
resumed.

Mr. John CutJibertson appealed to the mover and seconder of the motion
to withdraw their proposition, and submit another which was more likely to
meet with universal acceptance. He should be much grieved to see a mvi-
sion of feeling when the question was put to the vote. He confessed that
he had not heard a single valid argument against the introduction of the
word ''free,*' and, as it had obtained very general acceptance with the
Beform Societies, and also with man v members of the Association, he hoped
it would be allowed to form a part of the future designation.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Assembly. 426

The Ex-President joined in the wiah expreswed by Mr. Cothbertson,
which he believed to be the feeling of a considerable number of tiie
Assembly.

The Rev. Henry Tarrant said he would be content with either of the
proposed titles, but, for the sake of securing an unanimous vote, would urge
a spirit of compromise. For himself, he was inclined to say with Wesley,
in reference to the matter — «

" Let names, and sects, and parties fall,
And Jesus Christ be Lord of all ;**

but, as they must have some distinctive designation, he certainly thought
the title '* Methodist Free Churches," was a very expressive one. They all
felt that the body from which they had come out was a most despotic one ;
why not say so, therefore, in their very name, and let their title be a stand-
ing and lasting protest against the ecclesiastical tyranny and encroachments
of the Wesleyan Conference ?

Mr. Schofield said he was quite sure the Rochdale friends had no objec-
tion to the title '* free," for it figured rather iargelv on the bulk of the pews
in the body of their beautiful Chapel, and, as in the amalgamated Churches
of Associationists and Reformers they enjoyed the fullest freedom, why not
at once agree to adopt it in their future designation ?

The Rev. J. Molineux said, undoubtedly the Rochdale friends liked free-
dom, but thev were not the less fond of " unity." In the present day there
was much talk of freedom, where very little of it existed. They neard a
great deal about a certain country which was alleged to be " the freest
nation upon earth," and yet it was notorious, to their eternal dis^ace, that
it contained more manacles and cowhides than all the world besides. Let
the friends, too, remember that, though they might adopt the word " free *'
in reference to their Churches, they did not thereby secure a whit more
freedom. It was quite possible for there to be a great amount of despotism,
with all their boasted liberty, and for one or two individuals in a circuit to
destroy, by their overbearance, everv vestige of real freedom* Objections
were felt against the assumption of the word '' free " by some, but no objec-
tion could be fairly alleged against " united." They all felt how beautiful
and pleasant it was for brethren to dwell together in unity, and they were
quite prepared to admit that '* union is strength." It was this special
feature of Christian perfection that the Great Head of the Church so fer-
vently prayed might characterise his followers, " That they all may be one,"
&c. Ajb the representative of Rochdale, he (Mr. Molineux) was there to
say that the opinion of the circuit, taken by a minority at the quarterly
meeting, was m £sivour of the title *' United Methomst Churches,*' as being
the most consistent and the least invidious with respect to others.

After some remarks by Mr. Dixon. (Sunderland), Mr« F. Cuthbertson
(London), and others, the Assembly resumed, and

The Secretary, in a long and clever speech, moved his resolution, which
was seconded by the Rev. T. W. Pearson, of Leeds.

Mr. Jno. Benson, of Newcastle, moved, as an amendment, to insert the
word " Free " in the proposed name after the word " Methodist."

The Rev, M Baxter, Kx-President, seconded the amendment. He thought
the chief excellence of a designation to consist in its being adapted to convey
an accurate or distinctive idea of the body it was employed to indicate,
and it struck him that, though every word in the title *' United Methodist
Churches " was exceedingly good and appropriate as far as it went, it
succeeded only in describing a variety of principles which they had in com-
mon with other Methodist Churches. Now, he wanted some other word in
the name that should convey some leading characteristic of the bodj. The
introduction of the word " free " would supply what was wanted ; it would

Digitized by VjOOQlC

426 Tie Annual Anembly.

eoarey ihe idea of flomething for which thej existed, Tiz., the maintenance of
Christian liberty, which, thoagh they did not enjoy exclusiyely, yet enjoyed
in a higher degree than any other Methodistic Community. In &ct, the
Societies of the amalgamated bodies were fx«e in a sense which no other
branch of the Wesleyan family coald lay claim to. He was in that point of
view proud of his position both as a member and preacher in this community.
It had been objected that the word <' free " had been abused. He did not
deny it, but felt that the objection had little wei^bt, inasmuch as it would be
difficult, perhaps impossible, to find a good word in the rocabulary which had
not in some way or other shared the same fate. It had been also objected
that the adoption of the word would imply a reflection upon other Methodist
bodies. It certainly could not reflect upon those in which freedom existed,
and where it did reflect it was the fault of those who perpetuated amongst
themselves the evil against which this was a protest. For himself, he hoped
that they were not yet arrived at that high pitch of refinement in thought and
speech which disposes men to shrink from calling things their right names ;
and, as they were the freely chosen representatives of B.free body, he should
give ida free vote in favour of the title " United Methodist Free Churches."

Mr. liikwes, referring to a remark of Mr. Eckett's, said if the Association
were willing to give up their old title, so also were the Befonners, bo that
there was equal concession on both sides.

Mr. Colman made an able speech in support of the amendment, and was
followed by Mr. Brain on the same side, and Mr. Withington in favour of
the original propoeition.

The Kev. S. 8. Barton said it was very unfortunate to argue a question
from extreme cases, and many of those which had been referred to on both
sides were of this character. Do what they would and adopt whatever
designation they pleased, it could not but be that instances might arise in
which there would be a feature of inappropriateness, and therefore they
must not expect that any generic title would meet every individual case.
At the same time it seemed very desirable that they should follow a course
which would most commend itself to the approbation of the churches at
iarge. He very much wished that the vote upon this question should be
unanimous, and if it were not so that there would be an unanimous deter-
mination among the societies to respect the decision of the majority. He
preferred the title " free,** and, if he could adopt his own course, he would
leave out the word ** united " altogether. None of them would lose any-
thing by incorporating the former word, while they would have the advan-
tage of thereby inscribing upon their banners the characteristic emblem
of their true ecclesiastical position. In their old organizations of Wes-
leyan Association and Wesleyan Beformers, as well as their present united
organization, their peculiar characteristic was tmdonbtedly freedom from
ecclesiastical domination. They differed in no other point from other
Methodist bodies ; they taught the same doctrines, they rejoiced in the
same means of grace, and, if they wished to be known for that which
really constituted the difference, they must incorporate in their design
nation the word "free."

Mr. Unwin said, at Sheffield, they were, unfortunately, not all uniieiy
and, therefore, could not at present adopt that part of the designation ; he
hoped they soon would be able to do so. But, free they were, and must
be ; and, therefore, he should vote for the amendment.

The Secretary then replied. He said he believed, after all that had
been said, the best of the argument was with those who supported the
propoeition ; but if, contrary to appearances, he was beaten by the vot^
he Uiould content hitaiself with the reflection, that it was not the first time
that the better argument was overruled by a majority. The alteratio&>
whatever it was to be, could not be effected by the decision of one Asseffi-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Assembly. 427

bly nor by the votes of a mere majorityi but, in aoeordanee with the pro-
visions of the Foundation Deed, must be the deliberate opinion of three-
fourths of the representatives in two successive Assemblies.

The question was then put, when there appeared :— For the amendment
72 ; against it 33 ; majority 39.

The Secretary (after a long conversation) moved an adjournment that
the minority might have an opportunity of consulting together, and, if pos-
sible, submitting such a proposition as would meet the views of all parties.

This was at once agreed to, and the Assembly adjourned.

Saturdat.— Fourth Day.

After the usual devotional service and the reading of the minutes.

The Secretary said the Assembly would remenmer the circumstances
under which they broke up on the previous night. He had seriously
directed his attention to the consideration of the matter then before them,
and he had consulted with a number of the brethren who voted in the
minority. The object of his endeavours had been that he might come to
the present sitting prepared with a resolution which would lead to a una-
nimous result. He was happy to say that all the brethren in the minority
whom he had had the opportunity of consulting, heartily concurred in his
submitting the following motion to the Assembly. He was one who,
while there was any chance of securing what he thought most advisable,
would fight to the last ; but, at all times, he thought it was sound policy,
when beaten, to make the best of a bad job. The proposal he had to make
was as follows : —

^' That, as it has been proposed to this Assembly that the designation of
the Connexion should be, ** United Methodist Churches," and as an amend-
ment has "been proposed, to the effect that the word " Free," should form
part of the said designation, and be placed after the word " Methodist,"
and as for the said amendment 79 votes were given, and against it 33 ; but
inasmuch as the Foimdation Deed requires the consent of three-fourths of
the representatives in two successive Annual Assemblies for the legal
adoption of any new designation, this Assembly deems it advisable that,
as so large a proportion of its members desire the adoption of the word
** free," it should now be resolved by at least three-fourths of the members
present that the designation of the Connexion should be " United Me-
thodist Free Churches," in order that the said proposed designation may,
during the coming year, be considered by the churches, and if by the next
Annual Assembly approved, according to the provisions of the Foundation
Deed, become the future designation of the Connexion."

Mr. Petrie, one of the minority on the previous day, seconded the propo-
sition, not only with a view to obtain the required majority, but as he
hoped to secure unanimity. He did not attach much importance to the
name, but he did feel tha^ as the question had come before them, it was
very desirable that it should be harmoniously settled. Methodism flou-
rished most perhaps when its name, and those who espoused it, were held
up to public opprobrium, and his prayer was, that, now they had chosen a
name for themselves, they would oe not less a blessing to the world than
formerly. The glory of Methodism had not been its title or position, but
the great and saving doctrines of salvation which it proclaimed, and the
efforts which it has put forth to save the lost. His earnest prayer was that,
in labours and in successes, the united societies might equal, if not excel,
all that had gone before them.

After a few remarks from Messrs. Chipchase, Brown, and Benson, the
President pint the resolution to the meeting. It was unanimously adopted.

Digitized by VjOOQlC

428 The Annual M$enMy,

and the bretiiren joined in einging ** Pnuae God from whom all blenings
flow."

Thb Jamaica MiflSioH.— Mr. Benson read the minntae of the twentieth
Annoal Assembly of the Jamaica branch of the Wesleyan Methodist
Association, held at Kingston on the 18th to the 23rd of February last.

Letters from the Bev. A. Uyams were also read. They contained
intimations of the nrgent necessity there is for additional help in the pro-
secation of the mission, and expressed deep regret that the Connexional
Committee had not been able to appoint another missionary to asmst the
brethren, as promised.

The Secretary said, that for a long time, the Assembly had given the
brethren labouring in Jamaica reason to believe that they were about to
send out another missionary. The Connexional Committee had endeavoured
to obtain the services of a suitable man for the purpose ; but all their
efforts, as yet, had been unavailing, and a succession of diEUkppointments
had in this respect been experienced by the brethren in Jamaica. No
doubt the letters just read would excite the attention, and call forth the
sympathy of the Assembly, and thev would be disposed to join in a reso-
lution expressine their regret that the promised help had not been forth-
coming. For the information of those who had not been present on
previous occasions, it would be as well to state that brother Abraham
fiyams, the writer of the letters just read, was a converted Jew, and tihat,
as to the other missionaries, brother Hayes was a native of the islajid, and
brother Penrose was a local preacher from Comwall, who had been (adled
out into the itinerancy.

Mr. G. W. Harrison, of Wakefield, moved : —

''That this Assembly is much grieved on being informed that the Con-
nexional Committee have not yet been able to send a suitable missionary
to labour in Jamaica, and refers it again to them to take the necessary
steps for obtaining, as early as possible, the services of a suitable missionary
to labour in that island.''

Believing that the Cod with whom they had to do was the hearw and
answerer of prayer, he felt that it was their duty, individually and col-
lectively, to ask that He would direct their attention to a man duly qualified
for this important mission. While upon his feet he would just sj^l the
question, whether the unpaid doctor's bill, to which Mr. Hyams referred
in his letter as a source of great uneasiness to him, had been dischaiged.
The brethren labouring in foreign countries ought not, in addition to the
privations and toils of their lot, to have the burden of unavoidable debt
thrown upon them t

The Secretary said the question would more properly come before them,
when a financial resolution was proposed in reference to the station.

Bev. A. Gilbert seconded the resolution.
^ After a few words from Mr. Chipchase, Mr. Jackson of Halifax, advan-
cing to the President, handed up a 5/. note, and, with much emotion, besged
thali it miffht be forwarded to their honoured brother in Jamaica, w^Be
doctor's bul remained unpaid.

Mr; Whitehead, of Bawtenstall, and Mr. Harrison, of Wakefield, at onoe
offered to divide between themselves the discharge of the balance of that
account (about 10/.) observing that Mr. Hyams ought not to pass a single
day more than was necessary without knowing tnsX that burden was off
his shoulders.

The Bev. Marmaduke Miller said it might be interesting to manj
present to know that one of the brethren labouring in Jamaica (Mr. Pen-
rose) was a Wesleyan Reformer.

The Secretary said that the Connexional Committee had, from year to
year, been very much guided in their opinion as to the amount of graats

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Assembly. 429

to be made to the Jamaica miasion by the judgment of his much esteemed
friend the Ex-President, who had himself laboured there. They felt desirous
to give the brethren all the help in their power, but were careful in doing
iL lest they should interfere with what they believed was the duty of the
churches there to support, as £Eir as possible, their own ministry. Properly
speaking, Jamaica had no more right to be considered as a part of heathen-
dom than many parts of our own ooimtry, and he believed, upon examination^
it would be found that as large, if not a larger, proportion of the inhabi-
tants of the island were members of Christian churches than in England.

The Ex-President : Yerv much larger.

The Secretary continued. The Annual Assembly had been in the babift
of niaking grants from time to time in aid of that Mission, and had proraisedi,
as soon as possible, to send out an additional missionary. They were also
about to send out two missionaries to Austitdia, which would entail an.
immediate charge upon the funds of the Connexion to the extent of 400/.
He would not now enter upon the question of the separation of the Home
and Foreign Mission Fund further than to remark, that that question
had frequently and very carefully been considered by previous Annual
Assemblies ; and when it again came under discussion he should be able
to show that the time had not yet come for carrying such an alteration
into effect. He strongly urged that for another year or two, at least,
the same course of action hitherto pursued should be continued.

Mr. Colman, expressed in warm and animated terms, his attachment to>
the missionary cause, his deep sympathy with the brethren whose cases,
were under consideration, and his earnest hope that a vigorous effort
would be made during the coming year to place the foreign operations of
the United Churches upon such a basis as to enlist the generous and
liberal support of the body.

The Ex-President said he was quite prepared to maintain that the clahnfr
of Jamaica for missionary aid were very strong, especially on account
of its antecedents. He could not forget that this country stood in a verjr
peculiar relation towards it. We originated Slavery and the Slave-trade
in connection with that island, and by that trade introduced the ancestorsr
of nearly all the present population ; and, though we had abolished both
iniquities, the consequences of the one as well as of the other were still!
visible in the condition of the negro and the coloured races there. He-
believed we had done, politically, nearly all that could be done by the-
Mother country for the regeneration of Jamaica ; but there was a.
deal we might yet accomplish in a moral and spiritual point of view.
It was true, indeed, that there was a larger proportion of professors of
religion in Jamaica than in this country, and as larse a proportion of thoso
professors were consistent, to the extent of their Knowledge and attain-
ments, as were those at home ; but it must not be forgotten that their*
Christian knowledge was exceedingly limited, and there was a great
work to do in raising them to anything like the standard of rel]giou»
intelligence and Christian virtue which we expected in this land. In*
carrying on the work of evangelization there, a much larger number of
men was necessary, on account of the dispersed character of the population.
There were not more than five or six towns in the island ; these towns
embraced perhaps 80,000 of the population ; and all the rest were settled!
on isolated freeholds, or in small villages in the interior. He believecl
that the missions already undertaken by the Association there were pecu-
liarly adapted to the altered social and. political position of the people.
They had been emancipated from social bondage, and enfranchised with
political rights; it was, therefore, natural to expect that they should
exhibit a yearning desire for securing ecclesiastical freedom, and all the
privileges of a Christian church. They did manifest such a desire, and

Digitized by VjOOQIC

4d0 Thi Annual Auembfy.

the people of this coontry took them h j the hand, sad, in ill the itniggltf
which had taken place in that island between the principles of liberty and
despotism (for there had been such), they had had the hearty sympathy
and co-operation, as far as possible, of the Annual Assembly of the l&U
Wesleyan Association. He trusted that the amalgamated bodies woold
be disposed to exercise the same warm-hearted and ffenerous Bym|>athj
towards their brethren there, which had been erinoed by the Assoeiation
heretofore ; and that, in proportion as their means were enhu^ged, the piao-
tical exhibition of that sympathy would be correspondingly increased. But
he must be allowed to say, that, highly as he esteemed brother Hyams and
the other brethren labouring there, and glad as he was to see tucb a
spontaneous expression of generous regard towards them as had just been
manifested, he thought it would be a Sad precedent for the Assembly to
pay the doctor's bill referred to ; for he believed there were few things more
liable to abuse. They could not deal with that as an isolated case. He would
therefore much prefer seeing an increased amount bestowed in the way of
general assistance to brother Hyams, and all the other brethren in Jamaica^

Mr. Lawes thought the subject incidentally brought up by reading tbe
Beport, was so important that they ought to have a special committee to
carry out and direct the missionary operations of the united churches.
He did not wish to criticise what haa been done hj the Association, but
looking to the altered circumstances of the body, it did seem desirable
that something more should be done in the future.

Mr. Brain, of Kingswood, was of the same opinion: He belieyed that
their people would not be satisfied unless some rery much enlarged and
liberal plan were devised, in which they could heartily co-operate, for
sending the Gospel to the heathen.

Mr. Grace, of Wakefield, subscribed to all that had been said by Mr.
Lawes, and Mr. Brain, and expressed his conviction thai to engage the
societies in efforts for missionary purposes, would do more to cement their
union than anything else.

The conversation was continued by Messrs. Green, A. Gilbert, Mann,
and others ; after which

Mr. Harrison replied, and expressed his earnest hope that the question
of foreign missions would be taken up in that spirit, which its importance
demanded. He was not quite prepared to say whether or not there
should be two separate committees for the management of the home and
foreign work ; but, if not, he certainly thought the two departments should
be to a larger extent kept distinct. As to launching out into any imprac-
ticable scheme, the possibility of which had been intimated, he could only
say that he hoped, whatever committee might be appointed, they would
take no step which the people did not clearly express a determination to
support them in. He felt that the Association had done well in the past ;
home was the first need which met their eve, and they set to work first to
supply it. As their means and opportunities extended, so did their efforts;
and for what they had done he was sure the brethren present felt grstefuL

The motion was then very cordially adopted.

A long conversation followed, as to the pecuniary aid to be granted to
the brethren in Jamaica. Messrs. Jackson, Whitehead, and Harrison,
having intimated their willingness to allow their proffered donation to be
divided amongst all the brethren labouring in the island in augmentation of
the proposed grant, a vote was ultimately adopted to the following effect:—

** That the Connexional Committee be authorised, in addition to the
expenses to be incurred by sending a Missionary to labour in Jamaica, to
grant to brother A. Hyams, the sum of 70/. ; to brother Hayes, 45/. ; and
to brother Penrose, 25/. ; and the further sum of 30/., for educational
purposes, to be applied under the direction of brother A. Hyams."

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Assembly. 431

SiTKDATi Ana. 2.

The special services arranged for this day, were held in the varions
chapels according to the Flan, and general testimony was subsequently
borne to the gracions influence which attended them all.

MONDAT.— PUTH DaT.

After singing and prayer, the Minutes were read and approred.

Sabbath Sebyicbs. — Mr. Massingham said he had listened with great
interest to the sermon preached on the previous day by Mr. Eckett. He
considered it to be a most masterly exposition of the doctrine of Christian
nnion, and he should regret if some step could not be taken to present the
truths then enunciated, m some tangible form, to the societies at large.
He would, therefore move, " That our respected Secretary be requested to
prepare his sermon for publication."

Mr. Chipchase seconded the motion, which was supported by Mr. Green^
and carried unanimously.

Mr. Eckett promised to comply with the wishes of the Assembly.

A similar resolution was proposed in reference to the President's
discourse in the evening, but the Rev. gentleman expressed his dislike to.
publish sermons, and declined to accede to the request.

HoM9 AND Foreign Missions. — The Secretary, referring to the discus-
sion whdch took place on Saturday, said, it appeared to him that, in the
present state of the affairs of the united churches, it would be exceedingly
impolitic to resolve upon the separation of the Home and Foreign
Missions so far as the funds and Committee were concerned. At present
they were not in possession of any data which would enable them to form
a judgment as to the increased amount of pecuniary support they would
receive in consequence of the Amalgamation, nor of the charges which
might thereby be brought upon the Connexional funds. There was a sort
of |)r65%^ respecting foreign missions, which they could not indulge in
without injuring the work at home ; and, while he admitted that it was
their duty to do all which their means and the openings in Divine Provi-
dence enabled them in the former department of Christian activitj^, they
must not lose sight of the fact, that there were many dark spots in our
own land which as much required the evangelical efforts of the church as
any part of heathendom. He thought the proper mode of dealing with
the subject which had occupied their attention was, to refer it to the
Connexional Committee to consider and report to the next Annual Assem-
bly. The experience of the coming year would furnish such data as would
be valuable in regulating their after proceedings. He submitted a motion
to that effect.

The Ex-President seconded the motion, and said that however desirable
such a course might ultimately become, the present was certainly not a
time to adopt it.

The Kevs. Messrs. Dawson, Hacking, Miller, Patterson, Gilbert, and
Peters, and Messrs. Harrison, John Cuthbertson, Lawes, Chipchase, Maw-
son, Colman, Thompson, Mortimer, and Mann, severally spoke to the reso-
lution, whicn, on being put to the vote, was carried.

Mr. J. Cuthbertson moved, and Mr. Colman seconded, the following
resolution, which was also adopted : —

" That, providing sufficient funds be furnished, suitable agents engaged,
and providential openings for usefulness appear, the Connexional Commit-
tee be authorised to send out at least four additional Missionaries into the
foreign field during the next year."

Digitized by VjOOQIC

4SS Tke Annual Auembfy.

Ithaviiig been reported to the Aesemblj that the Gonnexional Com'
mittee had obtained the assent of Messrs. Sayer and Middleton to l&bour
in Australia, it was resolved, on the motion of Mr. Whiteley :—

^ That the Assembly is much gratified in learning that these bretliren
have been engaged to labour in Australia, and most earnestly and afifec-
tionately commends them to the prayers of the members of our churehei^
that they may implore the blessing of Heaven upon our brethren, who,
with their families, will in a few davs sail for that colony, that their nu-
nistry may be eminently snocessfuL'^

AnxBifooir BvrnFQ,

The minutes of Friday and Saturday's proceedings were read and
confirmed.

The greater part of the afternoon was occupied in reading the minates
of the Connexional Committee for the past year.

It was resolved, ^That the minutes now read be confirmed.**

After a vote of thanks to the Connexional Committee, resolatioDS of
thanks were voted to William Howe, Esq., as the Treasurer, Bev. W.
Beed, as Corresponding Secretary, and to the Bev. H. Tarrant, as Financi&l
Secretary for the past year.

Ebceftiok SBRViGE.~In the evening of the day a most interesting and
solemn service for the reception of Rev. J. N. G. Faull into full connexion,
took place in Baillie-street Chapel. The chapel was crowded, and a graci-
ous influence pervaded the Assembly.

TassDAT.— Sixth Day.

EuccTioK OF CoRRBSPOKDiva Secretart.— Mr. Lawes nominated the
Bev. W. Beed. Mr. Beed*s nomination was seconded by the Ex-President
The votes for the Corresponding Secretary were as follows :— Beed 46;
Bajley 24 ; Peters 23.

The brethren Beed and Bayley were again submitted by ballot for eIe^
tion (in order that a majority of the whole house might be obtained), when
the numbers were— for Beed, 48, Bayley, 47 ; whereupon the Bev. W . Seed
was declared to be duly elected.

ELECfTiON OF Treasurer. — W. Howe, Esq., of Manchester, John Petrie,
Esq., of Bochdale, and Joseph Massingham, ^^'t of Norwich, were nomi-
nated as suitable to sustain the office of Treasurer. It was thought
desirable not to change the holder of the office, and votes accordinglj were:
— Howe, 74 ; Petrie, 24 ; Massingham, 4.

ELECfTioN OF THE CoNNKXiONAL CoMifiTTBE.— The Assembly proceeded
to the nomination of the Connexional Committee.

AFTERNOON SITTING.

District Meetings.— The report of the Committee on Districts was
presented. As this is a new feature, some discussion took place. After
general conversation on the report, the following resolutions were adopted:

1. Besolved that the report now read be received.

2. That district meetings should be constituted of such membei^s of tl^^
Connexional Committee as shall be members of churches belonging to the
district, and of the representatives appointed by the circuit quarterly
meetings of the circuits belonging to the district— to be appointed as fol-
lows : — For a circuit under 200 members, 1 representative ; if 200 and
under 500 members, 2 representatives ; 500 members and imder 1,000, 3
representatives ; 1,000 ana upwards, 4 representatives.

3. That it be recommended that district meetings be held twice a year,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Assembly. 433

in the months of May and October, of at such other times as the district
meeting may deem more advisable.

4. That only such circtuts as approve of district meetings will be ex-
pected to appoint representatives to attend them, and no district meeting
shall have authority to interfere in the affairs of a circuit, unless advice or
other interference has been requested by a circuit quarterly meeting.

The Assembly then adjourned.

Thb Ez-Prbsident's Address. — ^In the evening the Ex-President (Rev.
M. Baxter) delivered his official address on the Christian ministry. He
founded an impressive discourse on 2 Cor. ilL 5— ll, *'Not that we are
Bofficient of ourselves," &c.

Wednbsdat, August 6.

The balloting papers for the Connexional Committee were collected, and
were submitted to the scrutiny of four brethren.

It was resolved that brother Enoch Darke be re-admitted into the ranks
of the itinerancy.

It was moved by the Eev. T. Hacking, and seconded by the Eev. T.
Bowland, that the excellent discourse on the Christian ministry delivered
hy the Ex-President on the previous evening be published by him in the
pafi[es of the Magazine.

Mr. Baxter consented to its publication.

Connexional Committee. — The result of the ballot on the Connexional
Committee was reported, when it appeared that the following brethren were
elected— namely, brothers Barton, Baxter, Bayley, Benson, Chipchase, Col-
man, Hacking, Harrison, Hoyle, H. Kay, Kipling, Lawes, Mann, Massing-
ham, Patterson, Peters, Petrie, Schoiield, Tarrant, and Unwin.

The Rev. G. Bawsou brought up the draft of an address to the Societies
in Jamaica, which was adopted.

Statistics of the Association. — ^The numerical tabular view was
brought up, when it appeared that there was an increase in the circuits
formerly connected with the Association of upwards of 1000 members.

Thuksday, August 6.

The Foundation Deed. — Some discussion arose upon the provisions of
this Deed, and the alterations considered necessary to meet the changes
which have taken place in the Connexion.

The Secretary stated that the Foundation Deed could be legally altered
at the next Annual Assembly.

Mr. Nichols said that an impression had gone abroad that the Foundation
Deed was inimical to the liberties of the Association. He had examined
the Deed, and was surprised that such an impression had gone forth, as it
was without foundation.

Mr. Chipchase thought that the clause with respect to the Itinerant minis-
try should be modified, and he suggested that a minister should be appointed
for a fourth year by a majority, as for any other year. He was not aware
that anything else would need to be altered.

The Secretary said that it was unnecessary to enter into the discussion of
this subject, as the next Annual Assembly was fully empowered by the Deed
to enter upon consideration of it without any previous notice.

Mr. Green wished to know if it was understood that there was an honour-
able agreement that a majority should decide ? He demurred to the idea

2 E

Digitized by VjOOQIC

484 The Annual A$semtfy.

that theWthe Befomen) had come under the proTisioiii of thatFoBndatioa
Deed. Me wanted a clear and distinct enunciation that the Mends of tLfl
Association wonld pnt the thing in such a position that the legal difficolty
might be dealt with.

Mr. Cowling widied that brethren would master these things hefore
they came to the AjBsemhly ; it would save time. He wanted no alteratioD.

Mr. Harrison said that much misapprehension had jgone forth whioh it
was necessary to guard against It was not desirabG to pull down the
building. He was glad to bear his testimony^ that every thing was what he
wished.

Hey. S. S. Barton thought that there was some force in the objectbn of
brother Green. He desired that some definite explanation should be g:iyeii,
especially upon the subjecti whether a bare majority would decide or two-
thirds would be required.

Messrs. Qreen, Reed, Haddng, Dixon, a&d others loined in the disciusion.

Mr. Colman said there were two thinn that might be done. This As-
sembly could determine what should be done in accordance with the Founda-
tion Deed, and also determine the name. l%e latter he considered afl sow
settled, and it could not be altered. The only thing now was, to determine
whether, if this Annual Assembly did not decide it in accordance with the
Foundation Deed, the next Annual Assembly could decide it.

Mr. Chipchase had perfect confidence in the brethren of the Associadon,
that they would carry out everything that was desirable in a legal sense.

The Secretary said that the Foundation Deed made arrangements for
union with other churches. The great principle which ran through the
Foundation Deed was this, to prevent persons firom endeavouring fre-
quently to alter our constitutioi}. It was better that they should go on as
usual. He was alarmed at the statement of brother Green. It went on
this assumption, that it was so radically defective, that it ought to be pulled
in pieces. Some of the brethren had expressed their confidence m the
honour of the members of the Association. In the united Committees it
had been said to the Beform brethren, ** I^ joti require any alteration, it is
important that we should know now.*' Tne brethren ox the Befomen
■aid, that they were not aware that there waa anything material that
required alteration. The Assembly was not thereby foreclMed from enter
ing into the discussion, but, if brother Green thought that there was
anything that required alteration, he should state it at onee. It would do
evil to go forth and say, we have done nothing with the Foundation Deed.
He wanted them not to remain in a state of chaos for a whole year. Let
brethren sav now what they wanted, and then a true ojunicm would go
forth. If there were specific exceptions let them now be stated.

Mr. Green said he was fearful that, unless they proposed alterations to-
day, they would come under the provisions of the Foundation Deed.

The Secretary said, according to the provisions of the Foundation Deed,
the Annual Assembly had power to take into consideration what proTiiionfl
should be altered, and then to take such means as might be requisite to gire
Wal efieot to those alterations,

Mr. Chipchase believed that everything which was neoeaiaiy woold be
done. He moved : —

<^ That, as according to the provisions of the Foundation Deed, in the
jrear 1868 the Annual Assembly will be empowered to. take into ooosideif
tion all such provisions of the Deed as may be legally altered, and dun
take such measares as may be requisite to give legal effect to any rssolntions
as may then be adopted for altering the said Deed; this Assembly does not
deem it now needful to discuss the provisions of the said Deed, bat desires
the Connexional Committee to take the provisions of the said Deed into its
oonsideration, and to report thereon to the next Annual Assembly."

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Aaembly, 4d5

Mr. G. W. Harrison seconded the resolution, as it would require that the
subject should be taken up at the next Annual Assembly.

Mr. Mawson said that it would be unfortunate if it went forth that they
Iiad not considered the Foundation Deed.

The Bey. J. Mann was surprised that Brother Mawson should make such
a speech without proposing some alteration. If any man should ask him.
\^hy did you not ask for an alteration in the Foundation Deed P he shoula
say that no alteration was needed. They should not make alterations
merely to meet prejudice. If persons now wanted alterations they onght
"to say so.

After some farther explanations by the Secretary, which appeared to give
eTery satisfaction to the Assembly, the resolution was put and carried.

CoNNEXlONAL BooK BooM. — A question was asked with respect to the
Sook Boom, tt was answered to the effect that it was understood at the
negociations for union that there would be only one book-room ; but at the
meeting in Exeter-hall it was asked, '' Can the Beformers take a part of the
capital of their book*room in the event of its being decided by the Annual
Assembly, that there should be but one for the United Churches ?" At the
final setuement of the matter it was considered that they could not consent
to such an arrangement. It was found, moreover, that the Beform bool^
room could not be given up at present, as there were individuals connected
^th it who had not consented to the Amalgamation. There was also
a charge upon its funds which must be liquidated before any step could be
taken in the matter at all. The opinion was expressed that it was fully ex-
pected that the Book-room of the amalgamated churches would be sup-
ported by those churches.

The Finance Committee brought up their report, which was submitted to
the Assembly.

The first draft of the Stations was read without discussion in accordance
with arrangement.

Friday, August 7.

After reading the minutes, the financial statement Was proceeded with,
and various amounts were granted to circuits and mission stations.

Thb Nkxt Annual As8BMBLT.--It was then resolved that the next
Annual Assembly should be held in London, commencing on the last Wed-
neaday in July, 1858, and that the Connexional Committee should meet on
the Thursday preceding.

AITERNOON-SITTlNa.

The financial statement was concluded, when it appeared that there was
a considerable balance in the hands of the Treasurer.

Circuit Appointments— A discussion ensued upon the subject of appoint-
ing a preacher for a fourth year to the same circuit, ariainff out of the
desire of the Manchester and Todmorden circuits to have the preachers
who have been labouring in them the full time stationed there again.

After some remarks from the Leeds delegates, and others, it was decided
that the brethren should be continued in their present circuits for a fourth
year.

BooE-Bootf Ajppairs.— The Book-room Beport was presented and read.

From this document it appeared that the realised capital of the Book-
loom was 2,172/. 11«. 7^., and the profits of the year 220/. 8«.

The Secretary moved that the President be requested to sit for his'
portrait.'

2b2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

436

J%e Annual Assembly

Several brethren rose to second the resolniion, vhich was very cordially
adopted, the whole of the Assembly rising.

The KeY. J. Peters moved that the tnanks of this Assembly be pre-
sented to the BeT. M. Baxter, for the ability and fidelity manifested by
him in discharging the duties of the Editor and Book-steward, and that he
be requested tcr accept re-appointment to the said offices for the ensuing
year, which was unanimously agreed to. .

CoMMiTTSB OT PBiviLEeBB. — It was reported that the Committee of
Privileges had had nothing during the year to occapy their attention.

A new committee was appoint^

Sattjedat.— Tenth Dat.

After the minutes were read, the report of the Children's Fund was read,
received, and adopted.

The Kev. A. Qubert was appointed Treasurer, and the Rev. H. Tarrant,
Secretary, for the coming year.

The Bev. J. Steele was appointed Financial Seeretair.

The report of the Beneficent Fund was read, received, and adopted.

Welsh Mission. — This mission canie under consideration. It was a cause
of regret that more had not been done in this field of labour. It was felt
to be desirable that the matter should be referred to the Connexional Cod •
mittee, to consider whether 150/. should not be granted towards tlie
mission.

It was finally resolved that the Counezional Committee should be antlio-
rised to ^rant 150/. to Wales, on condition that four missionaries were
employed in the principality.

Stations ot the rEEACHERa— The draft of the stations was read a
second time.

The following is the plan of appointments as finally adopted by the
Annual AssemUy on Monday— Eleventh Dat of itb Sittings.

STATIONS OF THE MINISTEBS

Of the Wesleyan Methodist Association and Wesleyan Beformen, or
United Methodist Free Churches.

CTRCT7IT8, PREACHERS.

Appleby — ^Thomas Duggins.
Bacup — Christopher Bentley.
Barnsley — Samuel Sellars.
Bath — Samuel Newton.
Birmingham — Samuel Lambrick.
\8t, BlacTchurn—JoBe^ph lliompson.
2ndf.5/acAj6Mrn--Thoma8 M. Laxton.
Bolton— Andrew Wolfenden.
Bradford—Thom&a Newton.
Bridgetoater — William Smith,
Bristol— Joseph Garside. One

wanted.
J?Mr«fey— Edward Wright.
Burslem — Thomas A. Bayley.
Burton ^on^ Trent — James Brain-

CIRCUITS. PREACHERS.

jBwry— Edwin Wrijjht.
Camelford, Wadebrtdye, and Bodmin

— John W. Gilchrist, Gwi^ie

Cheeson, Bichard Wakefield, J.

P. Uren.
Cardiff— One Wanted.
Carlisle — William Jones.
Cheltenham — One Wanted.
Clitheroe— John Cartwright
2>ar/tVi^n— Joseph Saul, Bichard

Brickwood.
DcrJy— WiUiam Griffith.^
Dorchester and WeymoiUh '- Ont

wanted.
Hxeter—D, W. Pennell.
Forest of Dean— John Hnrst.

bridge.

* The Derby Circuit has not yet amalgamated, but Brother Griffith has
consented to oe placed on the List of Ministers belonging to the United
Churches.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Annual Assembly*

437

CIRCUITS. PBEACHERS.

Frodsham and J^uncorn — Samuel
Beavan.

Glasgow — Samuel S. Barton.

Glossop and Staleyhridge — John N.
G. FauU.

HaU/ax — George Smith,

Hehione — Edwin Bailey, Eichard
Miller.

Hexham — One wanted.

Heywood — Thomas W, Pearson.

Keighley — Michael Beswick.

Kingstoood— "Henry Hay ward.

Launceston and Stratton — James
Ward, James Chew.

Xceefe— W. Dawson, Edwin Wat-
mough, Joseph Kirsop.

Leicester — Benjamin Glazebrook.

Xw^«ar(^— Charles Edwards, James
Cleave.

Liverpool — John Peters, Henry
Soulby.

1«^. London — Robert Eckett, Con-
nexional Secretary; M. Baxter,
Editor : E. Pearson and Ira Mil-
ler, Supernumeraries^ One
wanted.

2nd London, Oee St^One wanted.

Zrd. London — Thomas Barlow.

1th. London — George Sarvent. One
wanted*

Xon^on— John Collinge.

Lynn and Doumham — George
Wame, W. H. Oliver.

Macclesfield — Richard Abercombie.

Manchester : —

\it Lever Street — Henry Tarrant,
Marmaduke liUler.

2nrf Grosvenor Street — Anthony
Gilbert, William Beckett ; Robert
Harley, Supernumerary,

3rrf City JKoac^— Thomas Rothwell.

&//ord- John Steele ; W. H. Wal-
ker, Supernumerary,

Merthyr Tydvtl^One wanted.

Nanttoich — George Robinson.

New JtftSfe— William Ince.

Newcastle and Gateshead — Henry
Hirst; James Everett, President,
and T. Rowland, Supernumerary.

-ftTor^Aampton— Richard Steele. ♦

Ai>rtAtt«cA— William Reed, Corres-
ponding Secretary,

Norwich—John Myers, John Mann.

NaUinghatn—J, S.'Withington.
OW^a^n— Joseph Handley.
Oicrton— William Mackeuny.

CIRCUITS. PREACHERS.

Penzance — ^Thomas EUery.
Peterborough — John Hopkins.
Preston — John Gutteridge.
RawtenstaU—^aixnnel Macfarlane.
Redditch—^SiXnnel Massie.
JRec^rw^A— William R. Brown, Wil-
liam T. Symons.
Ripley — Parker Stoiy.
Rochdale — Henry Breeden, John

Mather, Wm. Woods; J. Moli-

neux, Supernumerary,
Searho7'ough^ ChsxleB R. Hopper.
She^ld-^Thomaa Hacking.
Shields, North and South — Richard

Chew, Arthur Hands.
Spalding — George Rawson.
St, Columb — Thomas Aspinall.
Stockton — Edmund Heywood. One

wanted.
Sunderland, North — Edward

Browning.
Sunderland, South— ^noc^i Darke,

Edward Boaden ; D. Rutherford,

and A. Keene, Supernumeraries,
Swansea — John Baron.
Tavistock — Edwin D. Green.
Devonport — Charles Spettigue.
Todmorden — James Edgar, W.

Jackson.
Truro— One wanted.
Tunh'idge—Zoaenh. Jenkins.
TTaAje/feW— Stepnen Davies.
Whitby — George Allen ; J. S.

Nightingale, Snpemumerary,
Whitehaven — William Patterson.
Winchester and TFVcA;Aam— Joshua

Taylor.
Winsford and Sandbach — John

Robinson.
Wisbeach — Robert Bushell.
Woolwich — John Clarke.
Worcester — One wanted.
Worksop — Sydney Smith.
fPbrfe— William Griffiths.
rbrA; — Robert Bell; W. Cave,

Supernumerary,

Ireland —

Carrickfergus — One wanted.

WALES.

Aberystwith — Robert Gabriel.
Boddeym — Owen Evans.
Harwood — AV. Williams.
Liverpool and ITo/yi^^t'// ... Griffith
Griffiths.

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

438 Review and Criticism.

CIRCUITS. TKMhCBEBB,

Jamaicii'^
KinffstonandProvithnce'-'A. Byanm.

One wanted.
Metcalf-^

St Anns — Thomas J. Hayes.
Clarendofh—EUatiA Penrose.
Australia —

CIBCXTITB. PKBACHXB5.

Oeelonff — Joseph. Townend.
James Sayer, and W. Middletoin are
appointed to labonr in Australia.
The localities in which they will
have to labour, will be determined
on their arrival in that Colony.

By the Besolntion of the Annual Assembly, the Preachers appointed by
it were required to be in their Circuits not later than the 22nd of August.*

REVIEW AND CRITICISM.

Josiah Gander (A Memoir). London : John Snow, 35, Pater-
noster-row.

• This is a Memoir of the late Josiah Conder, who was the son of an
engraver of that name in the city of London. His early life was dis-
tinguished by earnest piety and an unquenchable thirst after know-
ledge. He made rapid progress in his school studies, and became a
great favourite with both masters and pupils. Some amusing anec-
dotes are recorded of

HIS ABSTRACTION AT SCHOOL.

'^ He never sat steadily at his desk like other boys, to prepare for the
classes, but was sure to assume some grotesque position, and with pen or
pencil in hand, would be scribbling caricatures or otherwise amusing him-
self, not heedmg the fiiendly warning of M. Paris his excellent [French
master. His mind was busy workmg while his fingers were playing
truant, and never was he found unprepared for the master. He often
spoke in after years of the worthy kina-hearted Frenchman, with, whom
he was a favourite pupil, in terms of affectionate and respectful remem-
brance : and related how discouraged he used to be by the scanty meed of
approval, and the harsh strictures awarded to his French exercises, until
one day, having ventured to remonstrate, not without tears, that M. Paris
seemed to deal much more severely with him than with the other boys ;
the good Frenchman burst with a tone and manner that quite made
amends for the uncomplimentary epithet, *' Tou grate fool, Josiah, you
grate fool, do you not see, vat it is just because you are ye only boy in the
school vat I care for : yat I am more severe wiy aU de rest. This was quite
a new light on the matter, and the discovery communicated a new spur to
the boy*s miad, and fully reconciled him for the future to all M. Paris*
fault-finding."

Young Conder prosecuted his studies with ardour, and came eventually
to occupy an important place among our brethren of the Noncoiiformist
body. He was early in the histoiy of the " Eclectic," the editor and the
proprietor of that able journal He subsequently became editor of the
** Patriot " newspaper, and was the co-respondent of Robert Hall, John
Foster, James Montgomery, and Bobert Southey. He was indeed a man
of great weight and highly esteemed in the body to which he belonged.
Few men ever attained to greater respect among such as knew hina t^%n
Mr. Josiah Conder. This work abounds with interesting particulazv re-
lating to this great and good man.

« Our Report, for the most part, is drawn from the colomiui of the '* Weslevsa
Timet."— Ed. '

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

The Two Maniacs. 439

Leavet from a Journal ; or, Prison Visits, London : Wahd and
Co., 27, Paternoster-row.

A YBloable book ; its details will be found to be often touching — alirajs
instmotive. We cordially recommend it to the notice of our readers.

The JF'eefean Princess. By the Rev. J. Waterhouse. London :
HAioifl*ON, Adahb, and Co. ; Jobn MASOKy 66, Paternoster-row.

This work which is dedicated to Thomas Farmer, Esq., and the Ber.
John Scott, records the somewhat eventful history of Vah-ta-ah, a Princess,
whose conversion to Christianity was one of the first fruits of Missionary
enterprise in connection with the Wesleyans in Feejee. It will be found
to be a work of great interest to readers who sympathise, in any degree,
with the moral wretchedness of the nations who live without God in the
world.

On Healths By Dr. Horner. London ; Ward and Co., Pater-
no6ter«row.

A very valuable work on a highly important subject, and addressed espe-
eially to non-medical readers, ti will be read with profit by individuals of

all classes.

Twelve Scenes illustrating the Life and Death of Rev, John fFesley,
London : R, OwBN, Compton-street, Clerkenwell.

These are beautiful engravingSf the subjects of which are taken from the
history of that remarkable map, John Wesley. They will be full of interest
to persona in every denomination of Methodists.

Life in Israel. By Maria T. Bichards. Edinburgh : T, and T.
CiiAfiK, 88, George^Btreet ; London: Hahilton, Aj>ahb, and Co.,
Patemoster-row.

An interesting volume which treats the history of the Jewish people
from the time of the Exodus to the rebuilding of the Temple. We wish
F0 had space to enrich our pages with quotations from it.

THE TWO MANLiCS.

Now therefore^ be ye not mocken^ lest your bands be made strong.'^— -Jso. zzviii. 23.

More than fifty years ago, in a village in the United States of America,
a party of young men were in the habit of meeting together, evening after
evening, in the collage tatrem, to enjoy what they termed harmless plea-
sure, chatting over the table, and passing round the jovial cup.

It was generally late before they separated, and it is needless to say that
^ey seldom returned home sober.

One night, when they had been particularly merry, and had entertained
one anc^er with tales of wonder and fear, one of the party declared he
ftured nothing, neither God, nor man, nor devil.

"Will you go through the churchyard," said another, "stand upon
a tombstone, and cry out, * Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment 1 '"

"Yes, I will," he replied, and forthwith proceeded towards the graves,
while two of his companions followed to hear whether he did so. Sold in
nis impious daring, he walked half-way throuch the churchyard, and
mounting on a tomb, cried aloud, " Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment."

Digitized by VjOOQIC

440 The Ttoo Maniacs.

Once more he repeated the Bolemn wordsy when suddenly a white object
sprang from benind a tomb, and a shrill voice exclaimed, '^ YeSiLora, I
come ! I come ! "

The wretched dronkard fled in terror, and when fonnd, he had lost his
reason, which he never again recovered. His two companions were so
much impressed with the solemn incident, that thej reformed their evil
ways.

But what was the cause of this strange occorrence ? A poor crazy
woman, who was in the habit of straying a&ut by night» as well as by day,
had laid herself down to rest among the graves. Her head wandered, hot
her heart was fixed on Him who chimgeth not; and hearing, u she
thought, in the solemn midnight hour, we voice of the great archangel
calling the quick and the dead to meet tiiieir Judge, she gladly respon&d
to the summons ; for she was prepared to welcome her Lord with joy.

Header ! beware of the jolly companion, of liie social glass, of me toast,
the tale, the song that follow ; all are steps down to the pit, and may lead
you to insanity, to death, to judgment unprepared, and to hell fire, which
is never quencned. Had that wretched man not tasted liquor that night
he would not have closed it, a drunken blasphemer ; he would not have
passed the remainder of his days in a madhouse, and probably a long
eternity in the fire that never shall be quenched.

But that voice which the x>oor maniac so eagerly welcomed, will aoon
sound in reality. Could we welcome it as she was prepared to do f Could
we say, '* Yes, Lord, I come ! I come ! '* 1

Is there nothing between our hearts and the Lord Jesus 1 No earthly
affection to make us linger P no earthly fear to make us tremble ? Do we
hold nothing in our hfmds that we should desire to drop, if we suddenly
heard the voice, ^ Behold the bridegroom cometh ; go ye out to meet hun."
If there be, let us cast it aside and watch, for the time is short ; <* In snch
an hour as ye think not, the Son of man cometh," Matt. xxiv. 44.

Do you ask, " How can I know that I am prepared ?" ^ Believe on the
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved,** Acts xiv. 31. "The blood of
Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanseth us from all sin," 1 John i. 7. Those who
are saved, ''have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of
the Lamb," jRev . vii. 14. All that Qod requires of you is to turn from your
sins unto Jesus, who died for sinners ; if you believe on Him, your siofl
shall be blotted out, your heart made new, the Holy Spirit shall be giyen
to you, and you shall be made a child of God, and an neir of etenuulife.
Come thei*efore unto Him, and he will save and bless you ; and when that
dreadful day arrives, in which the world shall cry out, '< Hide us from the
wrath of the lamb," Rev, vi. 16, you shaU say, *• Lo, this is our God ; we
have waited for Him, and He will save us : this is Jehovah ; we have waited
for Him, we wiU be glad and rejoice in his salvation," Isa. zxv. 9. These
two maniacs have long since met their Judge in earnest. To one has pro-
bably been said, ''Depart from me, thou cursed, into everlastine fire,
prepared for the devil and his angels : *' to the other, " Come, thou meawd
of my father, inherit the kingdom," MM, xxv. 41, 34.

Header, do you ever think of this ? It is appointed unto man once to die,
and after this the judgment. Ton know not how suddenlv death may oome,
and you will stand in the immediate presence of a God, who isof pnier
eyes than to look upon iniquity. Do you not tremble at the thought t

This question was once put to a dying child, and she said, she had do
fear. " Do you not know," she was asked, " that you are a sinful child, vA
that God cannot look upon iniquity % "

'* Yes," she replied, " but I do not fear, God will not see my sin. When
I get to heaven, I will get behind Jesus, and God will have to look throngi)
Jesus before He can see me, and then He will not see my sins."

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket. 441

But if this poor little one had not come to Jesus, and hid herself behind
Him in life, she could not have come after ddllth ; and if you would be able
to stand in the presence of the Holy One hereafter, come to Him now, and
wash away your sins by faith in His most precious blood now.

In the hour when Jesus shall appear, we know that great part of man-
kind will be totally unprepared to meet Him. When they see the Son of
man coming in the clouds of heaven, kings and captains, rich men and poor,
free men and bond, will be in despair. Their cry will be to the mountains
and rocks to fall on them, and hide them from the wrath of the Lamb.

A degree of this terror doubtless was felt by the presumptuous drunkard,
and it drove him to insanity. It did not lead him to say, " Lord, save me !
It did not lead him to come to that precious Lamb whose blood flowed for
sinners, and is sufficient to blot out all their guilt. Nor when the terrors
of that day really come will any be led by them to cry by faith to Jesus
and be saved. The day of grace will be for ever past for them ; and they
will be given over to despair. Not one trembling believer, however, will
be cast out on that day.

The wicked cry out, " Who shall be able to stand t " The answer comes
from on high. " Hurt not the earth till we have sealed the servants of our
God in their foreheads," Rev, vii. 3. And we do know assuredly that
whenever the Lord comes forth to punish the earth for the iniquity of its
inhabitants, He will single out every one who loves Him, and separate him
to Himself.

God so loved the world, that He sent His only begotten Son, that who-
soever believeth in Him should not perish, but should have everlasting life.
For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that
the world through Him might be saved.

H^ipy he whom Christ shall find

Watching to see Him come ;
Him the Judge of all ^[lankind

Shall bear triumphant home.

Who can answer to His word ?

Which of you dare meet His day 1
" Rise and come to judgment ! " — Lord,

We rise and come away !

E. G.

THE CASKET.

**HB HAS TAKiaff ME DIP."

One evening in London, Martin Madan was dtting in a co£Eee-house with
some of his gay companions. At a loss for amusement, they proposed to
him to go and hear Mr. Wesley, who was preaching in the neighbourhood ;
and to return and to ^ take him off." As he entered the place, Mr. Wesley
was announcing with great solemnity the text : '* Prepare to meet thy God."
The young barrister was arrested. As Wesley proceeded to exhort his
hearers to repentance, a strange awe came over Madan's heart. When the
service was over he returned to the coffee-house. " Well," exclaimed his
boon companions, who by this time had become impatient for his return,
"Have you taken off the old Methodist!" "No," replied Madan, "no,
gentlemen ; but he has taken me off." From that hour he was another
num. He devoted himself to the Ix)rd*s work ; and many souls were
given him for his hire.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

442 The Casket.

THB#rSATIVO PBKACHXB.

The godly "Welsh preacher, Mr. Williamfl, of Wem, aaid:— "Theold
ministers were not much better preachers than we are, and in man^ respects
they were inferior ; but there was an unction about their ministry, and
success attendant upon it, now but seldom seen. And what is the cause of
the difference ? They prayed more than we do.— If we would prevedl and
" have power with men, we must first prevail and '* have power with God.*
It was on his knees that Jacob became a prince ; and if we would become
princes, we must be oftener and more importunate upon our knees."

He loved to tell an anecdote of the Bev. Mr. Griffith, of Carnarvon, who
was to preach one night in a Demn house, and some time before the service
began, wished to retire to a private room. He remained there some time
after the congregation assembled. As there was no sign of the preacher
makinff lus appearance, the good man of the house sent the servant to re-
quest him to come, as the people bad been some time waiting. On
approaching the door, she heard what she supposed to be a converBation
carried on between two persons in rather a subdued tone of voice. She
stood listening at the door, and heard one say to the other, '* I will not go,
unless thou come with me." The girl returned to her master, and said,
'^ There is some one with Mr. Griffith, and he tells him that he will not
come unless the other accompany him. I did not hear the other make a
reply, so I conclude he will not come from there to-night.** "Yes, yes, he
will," said the good man, '* and the other will come with him, if matters
are as you represent them. We shall begin the service by singing and
reading till the two come.'* At length Mr. Griffith came, and the ** other'*
with him, and they had an extraordinary meeting that night. It proved
the commencement of a powerful revival in the neighbourhood, and many
were converted to God. '' Nothing, brethren,** Mr. Williams would say, " is
necessary to render our ministry as efficient and successful as that of onr
fathers, but that we should be brought to the same spirit and mind.'*

WHATELT OK DEGREES OF INSPIRATIOK.

It is probable that many persons deceive themselves by confusing
together in their minds the differences of degree and differences of amount^
and thence imagining, what a little calm reflection must show to be
impossible, and indeed unintelligible, that there may be different degrees
of what is properly and strictly termed inspiration : that is, the miracu-
lous influence under which we conceive anything that we call ' an inspired
work* to have been written, ^e existence or non-existence of this
inspiration is a q uestion of fact, and though there may be different degrees
of evidence for the existence of a fact, it is plain that one fact cannot be
itself more or less a fact than another.

Inspiration may extend to the words uttered or merely to the subject-
matter of them, or merely to a certain portion of the matter : to all, for
instance, that pertains to religious truth as so to afford complete exemption
from doctrinal error, though not to matters of geography or natural philo-
sophy. But in every case we understand that to whatever points the
inspiration does extend in these, it secures infallibility, and infidlibility
maiufestly cannot admit of degre^. When we are speakinff of the
instinctive, the eloquent and the entertaining, we may call one discourse
tolerablv well written, another rather better written, and a third better
stilL Each of them is what it is, in a different degree from the others.
But we could not with propriety speak of one discourse as beinff *90fM-
tohat inspired, and anotlier as rather more inspired, and again another as «
good deal inspired.* If any one is distinctly commissioned to deliver a
message fh>m Heaven in any one instance ... As ta ae truly inspired as if he
had had revealed to him a hundred times greater quantity of superhuman
knowledge.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Coikee. 443

THS MORAL IHIXUBHCB OF FUBLIO JOtfltKALISM E8TIMATXD.

Cheap printing and rapid intercommunication have effected a great
revolution in the reading habits of the people, and the newspaper and
periodical wield a far more potent influence upon the public mind than
works of higher pretensions. I inquire not now whether this change is to
be welcomed or regretted. It is an accomplished fact — and Christian
wisdom, accepting it as such, should strive to turn it to the highest
account. Hitherto, it must be confessed, this untiring, gigantic, all but
irresistible engine, has been left pretty exclusively to the world's manage-
ment, and most disastrous have oeen the consequences. I verily believe
that nothing has exerted more power, in this country, to crush all th«
holier virtues out of our churches than our newspaper press, metropolitan
and provincial. For let the mode of its operation oe considered. It
seldom or never comes before us as an avowed foe, offering battle to the
Christianity of our land, but it is ever at our elbow, like Mephistopheles, as
a friend, a guide, a counsellor. Were it to blaspheme, we shoula spurn it
from us— were it to assail our faith, we should repel it with indignation—
but it does neither— it does worse. It takes as the topics of its discourse
all the events of the day, of whatever character. It dresses up the narra-
tion of them in the most piquant style. It intersperses with stiatements of
fact its own reflections. It puts its own character and purposes into apt
phrases, which pass unchallenged into the mind, and deposit poison there.
It talks, often too in a fascinating strain, on matters which seem to offer
themselves most incidentally, reasons in logical fashion, soars into eloquence,
^yarkles with wit, comes close home to the feelings, and gradually estab-
lishes itself in the confidence. Occasionally it dehvers itself of religious
effusion, and very seldom indeed makes any allusion to divine revelation
without displaying tokens of reverence. In this insidious and unsuspected
manner it attends you day by day, infusing into your mind, quite imper-
ceptibly, its own spi^^^ > ^^^ ^^^^ spirit, for the most part, I hesitate not to
say, is execrable. The epithet is a strong one, but facts warrant it. I select
the Times journal as an illustration, and although all others fall below it
in power, many others resemble it in its utter want of virtuous principle.
Now, I ask any religious man to watch the influence of that organ upon
his own mind, and I venture to predict that its tendency will be felt to be
much as I am about to describe. He will be tempted to look at all the
great realities of life as matters which it is lawful to play with as con-
venience may dictate. Whatever veneration for truth he may entertain,
will gradually become less sensitive, and he will come to consider lying,
as theft was regarded by the Spartans, to be infamous only when done in
a bungling style. He will perceive in himself a disi)Osition to sneer at all
the sterner exemplifications of virtue, to accept calunmy as naturally due
to heroism, to make light of moral principles when they stand in the way
of party objects, to disbelieve in human magnanimity, to make grimaces at
all the grander passages of a people*s history, to smile most obsequiously
upon what the Gospel condemns, and jest most mockingly at |what the
Gospel enforces. In short, if he were to yield himself up to the full effect
of the deleterious atmosphere with which that journal would surround
him, he would sink into a talker upon all conceivable subjects, without
faith, without heart, without conscience, without a single object before
him, or guiding principle within him, to make his talent subservient to
man's elevation. Now, what must the effect of this be on unreflecting and
irreligious minds, more especially when it is very commonly reflected,
though but dimly, by the lesser organs of opinion ? For my own part, I
often wonder that it has not been more pernicious than it seems to have
been. I attribute it to the distinguishing mercy of Gk)d, and to the resist-
ing power of vital Christianity, even in its feebleness, that journalism here

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

444 The Casket.

has Dot broaght our people down to the degraded level of the people in
France, amonsst whom public virtue is beueved to be an unrealizable
iiction, and pin>lic crime nothing worse than a blunder — ^and that all trust
in the true and the good, the disinterested and the holy, the moral and the
divine, has not been washed away by the incessant streams of selfish,
sordid, sceptical, but genteel utilitarianism, which are propelled by our
newspaper press through the public mind. It gives us^ good hope for the
future, if the omissions of the past be but presently rectified.

As it would be utterly impossible to get rid of this mode of approaching
and influencing the minds oi onr fellow-countrymen, and even, if possible,
might, perhaps, be far from wise, it is worth serious consideration, whether
it might not be made to do service to Christianity, as efficiently at least as
it now does service to a much less beneficial power. It is not by snch
means that I would counsel the direct promulgation of the truths of the
Gospel, but I see not why we may not thus aim to breathe around us the
spirit of the Gk)spel. I can imagine no more useful enterprise in our day
than the establishment of a daily newspaper upon the broad principles of
Christianity— in which all topics might be dealt with, as the friends of
righteousness, truth, peace, love, and, in one word, God^ would wish them
to be dealt with. Facts worth noting honesUy narrated — principles
worth noting £uthfully adhered to — public objects worth seeking steadily
pursued — surely an orean proposing this high aim to itself, employing
high talent, permeated by a religious spirit, and conducted by business
capacities, ought not to be looked upon as a dream never to be realized,
or as a project devoid of all chance of success. Wealth might do many
more foolish things, but could hardly do one which would more promote
the moral influence of embodied Christianity, than start a daily journal of
such a character — and I venture to predict that if, in point of all that
should characterise it as a newspaper, it were put upon an equality with
the best, it would speedily shame its rivals into the recognition of a purer
code of morality, and become the centre of a much healthier tone of public
spirit. I feel convinced that the advantages to the cause of the GUwpel in
this country, likely to be secured by this means, would transcend all present
calculation. It would act upon society as a change of wind, or of season,
which, although it neither confers upon men new powers of vision, nor
lessens in any way the distance of neighbouring objects, clears up the
atmosphere, the murkiness of which had previously concealed from view
whatever was not immediately at hand, as effectually as if the organ of
sight were paralyzed ; or the vicinity beyond a few paces of it were sn
entire blank. 1 commend this suggestion to the consideration of the
affluent members of our churches. It is certainly practicable — it wonld,
unquestionably, be useful — and I cannot but think that, mam^ed with
care and skill, it would prove successful. — From " The British ChureheB in
relation to the British Peopled

POWER OF THE PRINOTPLE OV ASSOCUTIOK.

{From Chevalier BunserCs ** Signs of the Times,*^

When, on my return to my German fatherland in the summer of kst
year, I began to compare what I saw there in traversing its various districts,
with the result of similar observations and studies during my fourteen
years* residence in England, two phenomena immediately arrested my
attention as universal and significant characteristics of the age. I refer to
the spontaneotis and powerful development of the spirit of association^ and
the evident increase of the power of the clergy or hierarchy, I had lone
since fixed my eye on both these facts, and endeavoured to understand
their workings, particularly in England.

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

The Casket. # 44o

The spirit of association, to speak of that first, is of native and not recent
growth in England ; and among the modern monuments and public works
of London, or indeed of the British Empire at large, there is scarcely one
that is striking or of any magnitude but what has its root in this principle.
The British Empire in India, the greatest in the world, has grown up in
less than a century from a company of traders and capitalists. The great
American republic had its origin for the most part in voluntary Churches
and other Rngliah associations, and a future Canadian Union, wluch already
looms on the horizon, will also take its place in the world's history by the
strength of this same spirit. What but the spirit of association has caUed
into existence, within the last twenty years, the gigantic railway structures,
which throw into the shade the collective results of all. that princes and
States have ever been able to accomplish in the way of roads and canals,
and whose erection has required more capital than the revenues of all the
States in the world amount to ? And what has given England, in the same
space of time, more new churches and chapels, and congregations of sdl
Christian sects, than governments and hierarchies have founded during.
the whole course of the last four hundred years, but this same principle ?

Is, then, this spirit of association a product of the most recent times,
a child of this century, or, at most, of the last eighty years t Is it an off-
shoot of modem industrial activity, or is it too a con<]^uest of the philosophy
of the last century and of so-called modem civilization 1 England proves
the contrary. Here we see, so early as the seventeenth century, the for-
mation of voluntary congregations, whieh, under the name of Independents,
deyelope themselves, as did Christianity itself once, beneath the persecu-
tion of two hostile State churches. From these communities proceeded
the modem Baptists, whom even learned Crerman theologians still to this
day affect to confound with the Munster Anabaptists. ♦ ♦ •

The Baptists also arose amidst persecution as voluntary congregations
of believers, and not only gained a footing in England and Scotland, but
formed in the United States many thousand congregations, mostly from
among the Independents. The congregations are independent of each
other; but, like the Congregationalists, have formed voluntary unions;
and in the United States now number more than 5,000,000 Christians,
white and black. The vitality of these congregational Churches is evinced
by their missions ; for the Baptists and Independents have been the first
who have converted whole tribes, and raised them into fitness for civil life ;
while the Jesuit missions of Paraguay only trained a people perfectly
incapable of self-government, and unable to walk, except in leading-strings.
For example, we may point to the Independents in Tahiti, whom the
French missionaries are trying to counteract by means of Imyonets and
brandy ; or to the Baptists in the Sandwich Islands, where the State founded
by the Mission forms a self-existent Church which sends out its mission-
aries into the Oceanic isles. All this has been done in sixty years. During
this period, nay, for the space of two hundred and fifty years, the State
Churches of England and Scotland have exhibited but little capability of
propagating themselves ; the German aad Dutch Beformed Churches still
ess ; and &e Lutheran Church, none at all. To the same principle we
must assign the voluntary association for Pastoral Aid and Scripture
Headers, and the Mission for the City of London, as weU as all the associa-
tions for missionary labour at home and abroad, and also the Bible
Societies.

The whole of these have sprung up within the last sixty years ; and now
they send forth many thousand evangelists and apostles over the face of
the whole earth, and educate as many more from among their converts
belonging to the most dissimilar races of Asia, Africa, and America, to
become a parent-stock for future races and peoples. The youngest of these

Digitized by VjOOQIC

le

446 % The Casket.

▼oluntuT auociAtioiii, wbidi we hftve seen Bhooting up before our eyes
during the last few years by the side of a highly respectablei though some-
what torpid, national Ghnrch, I mean that of the Free Chntch of Bootland,
has, in only ten years, outstripped the acUvity of all the State Churches in
the world.

IS KT VAMS IH THI BOOK OF LIFB ?

Many Christians are all their lives subject unto bondage throng doubts
and fears. They often long for brighter eridenoes of their own aooeptsnoe
with God, and ffreater certainty in regard to their own future blessedneaB.
*' O that I could o^y know that my name was in the book of life,** exdsimed
one. But why may you not know this, my.brother, as truly as the great
apostle knew that the names of Euodius, Syntyche, Clement^ and his other
fellow-labourers, were in the book of life! Phil, iv: 2, 3. '*I beseech
JSuodius, and beseedi Syntyche, that they may be of the same mind in the
•Lord. And I entreat thee, also, true yokefellow, help those women
which laboured with me in the (Gospel, with Clement also, and with other
of my fellow-labourers, whose names are in the book of life." Are joa ''a
true yokefeUow,** a true fellow-labourer with the servants of God in the
promotion of the Gospel of Jesus Christ t If so, then you are inclnded
among the " other fellow-^labourers whose names are in the book of life."
These pious women and Clement were tiie epistles of Jesus Christ known
and read of all men, by their labours, their fruits, their liyes. Their titles
to mansions in the skies were read by Paul, and no doubt by all others
who mingled with them. Had Paul been allowed to read their names in
the book of life, when in the third heavens, he could not have been anj
better convinced of the fact than he was by their lives and labours. So
may we all know, thaj; our names are in the book of life.

Take another rule or test of the same question. Do you fear the Lord 1
Do vou think upon his name ? Do you speak often to your Cbristian
brethren on the duties of religion f If so, listen to what he says of jonr
name and character — ^ Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to
another, and the Lord hearkened, and heard it ; and a book of remem-
brance was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that
thought on his name. And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in
that day when I come to make up my jewels, f special treasures,) and I
will spare them, as a man spareth his own son tnat serreth hinL" MaL
iii. 16, 17.

This shows that if yon fear him, think upon his name, speak often of liii
oause, you are one of his jewels, shall be acknowledged such in the great
day ^discerned from the wicked, and welcomed into lire by Christ. — ^^Come,
ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the
foundation of the world." Then shall all vour humble efforts to serve him
be accepted— your work of faith, labour of love, even to a cup of cold water,
come up as memorials before God. ^ Inasmuch as ye have done it onto
one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me ; enter
thou into t^e joys of thv Lord.'*

Then Grod has a book for your name, a bottle for your tears, and a number
fbr all the hairs of your head. Do you weep over the many great impe^
fections of your own heart t Do you shed tears over your wanderings from
the path of duty, over the coldness of your own affections, and the low estate
of 2<ion f God sees all these, and will regard, and record, aj^d bottle them-
'< Thou tellest my wanderings ; put thou my tears into thy bottle ; are
they not in thy book V* Ps. Ivi : 8. The crying of the child of God proies
it to be alive, as truly as the laughing. The tears of the true penitent
that glisten in the eye of fiuth, as it gazes upon the truest forerunners of
the fulness of joy in thy presence, and the pleasures evermore at thy light
hand. Then, O humble, anxious believer, thy name is written in heaveD)
thy record is on high.— Pre«6y^ena» Herald,

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Religious Intelligence. 447

RELIGIOUS INTELLIGENCE.
DALSTON— IN THE CARLISLE DISTRICT.

On Saturdar evening, August iBt, we held our Sixth Chapel Anniversary.
Upwards of 120 sat down to tea ; and, as the trays were gratuitously furnished
by the friends, the proceeds of it, in connexion with other efforts, have placed
the Chapel funds in easy circumstances.

The public meeting, after tea, was addressed by M. T. Graham, Primitive
Methodist, Mr. T. Hanson, Mr. S. England, and our highly esteemed Minister,
the Rev. W. Jones. Mr. T. Harrison presided on the occasion.

On the Sunday following, two excellent sermons were preached by the Kev.
W. Middleton, who commenced his labours as an itinerant Minister in this
Circuit, and is now on his way, as a Missionary, to Australia. The season was
one of deep interest, and will long be gratefullv remembered by the fHends.
Mr.M. takes with him the prayers and best wishes of all the friends in this
circuit.

• As our new Chapel has not been noticed in* the " Magazine," a few remarks
respecting the erection of the same may not be out of place.

In 1835, when the Association was formed, the Society came away unani*
mously, and, as their Chapel was Connexional, they had to leave it behind
them. Although it had only been erected in 1825, for a number of years it
remained unoccupied ; but lately it has been let off to the Church clergyman
as a day school.

Until 1851 the Association worshipped in a large room of an unoccupied
Brewery, in which thev had many precious seasons, and many souls brought to
God, and who are still holding on their way. The room was anything hut
comfortable, difficult of access, and held under uncertain tenure: Under these
circumstances the Society and friends determined, by the help of God, in the
latter part of 1850, to erect a Chapel, and succeeded beyond their most
sanguine expectations. The Chapel is built of stone, with a white ashlar front,
and is capable of seating three hundred persons, and occupies a more favour-
able site than the old one» which is situated in a back yard. The total cost
was 250/., towards which the friends collected 90/., leaving 160/. upon it, the
interest upon which, with the aid of pew rents, &c., is more easil^ obtained
than the rent of the room which they formerly occupied. The exertions of the
friends and Society are aU the more praiseworthy when it is taken into
account, that they entirely belong to the working class, and are situated in a
parish where the Established Church is predominant. We have not seen that
amount of prosperity which is desirable ; still we have gone steadily on. We
have peace in our borders and are expecting prosperity in our palaces.

T. H.

BRISTOL

This Circuit having amalgamated with the Associationi a feW particu«
lars respecting it may interest your numerous readers. We have re-
cently been favoured with a glorious outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Many
saints have been greatly quickenedi and some hundreds of sinners have been
turned to righteousness. A Saturday evening band-meeting was commenced
some twelve months ago. It was begun by, and for some weeks confined to, a few
of the preachers, then the exhorters, Sunday-school teachers, and Tract distri-
butors were invited to attend, and finally it was thrown open to our Churches.
We have had, for some mouths, an average attendance of two hundred.
The cloud of the Divine presence rests upon us, and our souls are filled with
purity, peace, and joy. God is raising up more labourers. Eight voung men
have just had notes given them to preach, and may the Great Head of the
Church bless and make them a blessing. Our Circuit income has of late
^eatly increased, and is still increasing. A house has been taken, and
18 being furnished for a second preacher, who' is to be stationed here by
the next Annual Assembly. For years past, in this Circuit, we have realized

Digitized by VjOOQIC

448 Religious Intelligence.

the life-g^vinjr, fertilisinff, and beauti^ing power set forth in the hundred and
tbirtv-third Psalm, *' Bebold how gooa and how pleasant it is for bretken to
dwell together in unity/' &&

In April last, at the Anniversary for Milk-street Chapel, we were favoured
with the services of the Rev. Matthew Baxter, President of Che Annual As-
sembly. He preached twice on the Sabbath, and again on the Monday even-
ing, to lam audiences. The neople were all delighted, and many I know were
much pronted by his clear, fulli and masterly exposition of divine truth. The
Anniversary Sermons of Salem Chapel, Baptist Mills, were preached by him
last Sabbath. The Chapel was full m the morning;, and crowded in the even-
ing. The favourable impression made on the fnends by his first visit wu
much extended and deepened by this. The following evening, in compliance
with a request made by the friends of Salem, he delivered a lecture. The
subject he chose was, ** England's greatness, and the causes of that ^atnen"
The chair was occupied by the writer. The lecture abounded with uiefiil
information, close and powerful reasoning, apposite and telling iUustratioo,
and was all, after the first few sentences, delivered with great animation.
The lecturer was frequently interrupted by bursts of applause ; and, after he
had closed, the whole audience rose and thanked him for his servicer By
many, a strong wish was expressed that he would visit them again ere long,
and m this wish I most heartily concurred.

Yours most respectfully,

JosfiPH Gaxiide.

Bristol, July 17th, 1857.

TAVISTOCK.

A Social Tea Meeting was held here on the 22nd instant, with a view of
calling together the members of Society and Connregadon, and to present Mr.
Hands with a testimonial as a token of their regard and esteem, previous to hii
removal. After the company had partaken of tea, a public meeting was com-
menced, over which Mr. Charles Bawden was called to preside, who alluded
to the object which had convened them together in an appropriate speech.

The testimonial, comprising the followin|f books (John Foster's Con-
plete Works, Longfellow's Complete Poetical Works, Homer's Complete
I^oetical Works (by Pope), Moore s Poetical Works, Shakspeare's, Tupper's
Lyrics and Proverbial Philosoph}', Sclilegel's Philosophy of Life, &c.) were
then presented him by Mr. Bennett, accompanied by some remarks explana-
tory of Uie caiue which had suggested the propriety of presenting luch
Testimonial.

Addresses were also delivered by Messrs. Truscott, Daintry, Duncan, and
Horswill, suitable to the occasion.

Mr. Hands, in a touching speech, duly acknowledged the gift presented
him, and made some remarks relative to the sym|)athy and esteem which had
been shown him during the time he has laboured in the Circuit

The meeting was of a very pleasins and satisfactory character. It is grati-
fying to state that the condition of the Churches throughout the Circuit hia
Sreatly improved during the time Mr. Hands has been with us. This must
e attributed to the ability, zeal, and Christian spirit with which he has dis-
charged his onerous and important duties, and he carries with him the regsrd
and love of the Church, and their ardent wish that his future labours may
be attended with similar results and abundantly blessed.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

THE

WESLEY AN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE.

OCTOBER, 1867.

I KNOW NOT THE DAY OF MY DEATH.

By the Rev. Joseph Kirsop, Leeds,

Genesis xxvii. 2.

These words were addressed by Isaac to Esau, his first-bom and
fayourite son. When old age had overtaken him, and his eyes had
grown dim, he called Esau, and said, " Behold, now I am old I know
not the day of my death. Now, therefore, take, I pray thee, thy
weapons, thy quiver, and thy bow, and go out to the field and take me
some venison, and make me savoury meat such as I love, and bring it
to me that I may eat, that my soul may bless thee before I die." As
we know of no religious significance in the eating of venison, we
apprehend that it made little difference whether or not Isaac had got
his savoury meat ; and it is to be hoped that, in view of his approach-
ing departure, his soul was engaged with more momentous concerns
than the procuring of a favourite food.

The reason that Isaac assigned for his ignorance of the day of his
dissolution was his old age. Men burdened with the weight of years
know that death must come very soon. When the pillars of the house
hegia to tremble, and the strong men to bow themselves, men know
that death may come any day, that each day may be their last. " They
know not the day of their death." But, indeed, life is so uncertain,
and all are so ignorant of the future, that not only the aged but the
youthful may employ the language of Isaac, and say, " I know not
the day of my death."

There is to every one a day of death. If a celestial being, ignorant
of our history, nature, and destiny, were to visit our world, no fact
would more instantly and constantly present itself to his eye than that
of our mortality. Vacant places in the family, men missing from
their accustomed haunts — cold corpses wrapped in death-cerements —
hearses with their plumes — mourners with their crapes — cities with
their cemeteries^-churches with their burial places — would, thrust it
on his view. He would watch men through infancy, childhood, youth,
manhood, and old age ; he would follow them through days of sorrow
^d of mirth, days of gloom and days of gladness — summer days and
winter nights ; and he would find that the journey of life always ended
at the coffin_that the grave was the narrow house appointed for all
living.

There is a day of death to us all, but whether it is near or distant,

2 F

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

460 / know not the Day of my Death.

in the present or a future jear, is bidden from us. God has not re-
vealed it. " We know not the day of our death."

Now, as this ignorance of the day of onr dissolution is the result of
a divine arrangement, we may readily admit that it is ordered for the
wisest reasons, and productive of the best results. And as all God's
works are not only right, but are sought out of them that have plea-
sure therein, not only may we conclude that this arrangement is a wise
one, but we may reasonably expect that inquiry will show us how it
is so. It is true that God does not give us account of any of His
matters, when those matters transcend the grasp of our finite minds.
But we think that the reasons of this divine arrangement are neither
mysterious nor incomprehensible. Even a cursory examination will
show us the wisdom manifested in leaving man ignorant of his own
future, and making him say with Isaac, *' I know not the day of mj
death."

Men are kept 'in ignorance of the period of their death,

I. Because to know this would embitter theib lives.

It seems certain that our life would be embittered, our souls dis-
quieted, our happiness impaired, by knowing the day of our death. To
foresee the moment of our departure — ^to foreknow the time when the
lamp of life would go out in darkness — when the soul would quit its
earthly tenement, and " this sensible warm motion become a kneaded
clod," — could add nothing to the sum of good we enjoy, but would, we
apprehend, greatly diminish it. In reference to lesser evils than our
judgment or our imagination teaches us to consider death, does not the
fact that we are ignorant of the time of their approach, and the length
of their continuance, greatly lessen the dread that we entertain of
them ? We are morally certain that sickness, losses, disappointments,
bereavements, calamities of different kind and complexion, will occur.
Man, we know, is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward. But
while we know that trials and distress are coming, we know not when
they will come, how long they will continue, how often they will
return. And this ignorance makes it much more easy for us to retain
our equanimity than it would be if we knew our future trials as well
as we remember the trials that are past. Our ignorance and uncer-
tainty of the future make us feel the pang of our sufferings only when
they actually overtake us ; but if they were accurately foreseen, we
would feel every pang by anticipation. " Cowards," says the poet, " die
many times ; the valiant taste of death but once," meaning that timid,
fearful men, anticipating their death, feel, often by their forebodings,
its sting and bitterness, while men of a more cheerful and courageous
spirit feel the pain of dying only when in the article of death. Now,
if we foresaw the time, manner, extent, and duration of our coming
trials, we would feel our trials not only when they occurred, but we would
antedate them — ^we would foretaste them — we would feel the prickle
ere we were hurt by the thorn — we would feel the sharpness of the
point ere we were wounded by the sword. When, through peculiar
circumstances, a person sees that a certain calamity is inevitable, how

Digitized by VjOOQIC

I know not the Day of my Death, 451

often is he overborne, not by the pressure of the calanaitj itself, but by
the very thought of it ? And if we clearly saw what our future suffer-
ings would be, the accumulated weight of them would be awful-
appalling — overwhelming. The whole burden of futurity would rest
on one point — the present moment ; and our hearts would fail us. We
would weep for our friends ere yet they had departed, and feel our
losses ere yet they had occurred. Ingratitude would wring our hearts
with anguish while as yet there was no token, and clouds of trouble
and sorrow would lower while as yet the sky was clear and cloudless,
and our dwellings were illumined by prosperity, sunny and serene. It
is injurious to think carefully of the morrow, whose events are yet
hidden ; but how could we help thinking of it anxiously, eagerly,
tearfully, fearfully, if all its woes, wants, and sorrows, lay open to our
view ? Oh ! if the future were known, our life would be a bitterness,
a bondage, and a burden.

But it may be asked, how does all this bear on our present theme ?
It may be true that our ignorance of future sufferings promotes our
present happiness, but what has this to do with our ignorance of the
day of our death ? It is the certainty of the fact that we must die
that depresses and burdens us, and not our knowledge or ignorance of
the time of our death. We acknowledge this in part. The fact of
our mortality is a source of painful feeling ; but we maintain that, if
we could foresee the time of our dissolution, or calculate it as astrono-
mers do an eclipse, this would be an additional cause of disquietude, a
superadded circumstance sure to harass and distress. Even Christian
hope, which would moderate and weaken such a painful feeling, would
not necessarily remove it. Afflictions, though they work together for
the Christian good, are yet felt by him to be grievous ; and death,
though it ushers the believer into everlasting glory, is a gloomy thing
— cold, cheerless, undesirable. If even Christian men shrink from
death, the knowledge when their death would take place would greatly
increase its bitterness, and much impair their present enjoyments.

If these things are so, we must admit and admire God's goodness in
keeping us ignorant of the day of our departure. If the certainty of
future sufferings is rendered less painful by the uncertainty of their
period, precise nature, and duration ; and if this principle is applicable
to death as to other evils — ^that is, if the knowledge of our mortality
is rendered less distressing by our ignorance of the time of our disso-
lution ; then we all may be thankful to say with Isaac, '* I know not
the day of my death."

Men are ignorant of the day of their death,

II. Because to kitow it would embolden them in Sin.

As it is, men know not what a day may bring forth. For aught
they can tell, there is but a step betwixt them and death. The very
next wave that breaks on the shores of time may wash them into an
unseen state and an eternal world. And yet what is the conduct of
most ? They lift up the arm of rebellion against God — live regardless
of death, judgment, heaven, and hell. Now, if such is the conduct of

2 p 2

Digitized by VjOOQIC

452 / know not the Day of my Death,

men when thej cannot tell how soon this vapour life shall vanish
away, can we think it would be improved if they knew how long their
life would last! To us it seems certain that such knowledge would
have a directly contrary effect Men now say to the messengers of
mercy, " We will hear again of this matter," when they know not but
the next moment their ears may be stopped by the fingers of death.
Men now keep Jesus waiting at their door, when the next moment
they may be standing at His bar. Would they be likely to give Him
a readier, speedier entrance, if they knew that they had ten, twenty,
thirty, or forty years to live ? Assuredly not. No ! they would think
that there was no need for now preparing to meet God — that they had
space and verge enough both for sin and repentance. Kow it is " eat
and drink, for to-morrow we die ;" then it would be " eat and drink,
for to-morrow we live." Nay, even while the sinner's ever shorten-
ing time was contracted to a span, sin would still cheat him^ delude
him, deceive him, until the belief that there was no necessity for yet
turning to God ; and then, when the sand of his glass had nearly run
out, sin would change its tale, and tell him that it was too late now —
that there was no place for repentance, though he should seek it care-
fully and with tears. Then, just as according to Milton, *' frost per-
forms the effects of fire," so despair and presumption (the two moral
antipodes) would produce similar results ; the hapless sinner, who had
began to fill up the measure of his iniquities through presumption,
would end by doing it in despair. Presumption would make him
loiter during eleven hours of the day ; despair would tell him there
was no use in working the twelfth. And thus the soul of the sinner, a
prey to all imaginable tortures and terrors, after lingering as long
as it niight in its clay tenement, would be driven out to seek a hotter
home.

As it entered the invisible world, angels of light and innocence
would turn away their eyes of brightness dimmed by celestial tears ;
and just as ruthless banditti gather round an unfortunate traveller to
drag him to their cave and despoil him of goods and of life, so devils
would circle round the soul oi* the dismayed and terror-stricken sinner,
piercing him with their fiery-forked tongues, and dragging him down
to hell with their red-hot hands. As he passes hell's gates, and enters
the doleful shades where peace dwells not, and hope comes not, and
mercy visits not, and salvation is not found — a myriad eyes, fierce and
fiery, glare on his pallid face, a shout of infernal laughter fills bis
amazed ears, while damned spirits, heaped and coiled in the fiery fiood,
say, half in pity, half in mockery and in hate, " Art thou abo become
as one of us ? "

We do not say that this would be the case with every individual it
the day of death were known. God forbid ! Nor do we limit the
power of God's grace to save men had God in his wisdom seen it meet
to reveal the period of dissolution. Our argument is simply this, that
if men continue in sin when they know not how' soon they must die,
they would be still more hardened in it if they knew the time to be
distant, and they would be apt to despair when at length the time was
near. If this is true — and we think it is — we believe it is — we are

Digitized by VjOOQIC

I know not the Day of my Death. 453

sure it is — then this, too, will teacb us the wisdom of God in keeping
us ignorant of the time of our departure, and making us say with
Isaac, " I know not the day of my death."

Men are ignorant of the day of their departure,

TIL Because to know it would interfere with the Dis-
charge OP Present Duties.

We have shown what would result from knowing the time of death
in the case of the unconverted : we now speak of its probable result
on the children of God, And we think the effect would be to inter-
fere with the discharge of present duties. At present the archangel's
voice sounds ever in our ears ; we cannot tell but any day may be the
day of our death ; and as there is no work, wisdom, knowledge, or
device, in the grave whither we hasten, the lesson we are taught by
life's uncertainty is " Whatsover thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy
might.'* But if we knew the time of our departure we might intermit,
neglect, or abandon duties to which we are now constrained. Thus, if
we saw that the time of our dissolution was distant, we would oil be
sorely tempted to procrastinate the dischargeof duties which we felt to be
disagreeable. The tempter would tell us there was time enough, and
too often we would acquiesce in the Satanic utterance. Or if we knew
the time of death to be near, our field of usefulness would appear so
limited, that we would deem it too insignificant for cultivation. We
would think, I must so soon cease these efforts, that it is scarcely worth
while to begin ; I shall have no opportunity of carrying out any scheme
of usefulness ; the number of my days will be cut off, then why should
I begin to build when I am not able to finish ? Or it may be that the
salvation of our own souls would appear of such overwhelming impor-
tance, that relative duties would be totally overlooked. Our own wants
would stand out in such broad and palpable relief, that the sight
would be absolutely absorbing. Just as the sinking of a deep well
dries up the wells in its vicinity, so this great consideration would
swallow up, entomb, engulph all others. How shall I perfect that
which is lacking ? How shall these stains be erased — these defects
removed ? How shall my soul be made thoroughly meet for the in-
heritance of the saints in light? Such would be our great question,
and every other inquiry might appear insignificant — impertinent. But
this would be a departure from the purpose of Jehovah, who, while he
says, " Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling," does yet
say quite consistently, " No man liveth unto himself." And if such
results would follow — even in the experience and conduct of believers
— a knowledge of the time when earthly life should terminate, surely
we will admit the wisdom of that divine arrangement which makes us
say as Isaac said, " I know not the day of my death."

There are two lessons which we are taught by this ignorance of the
day of our dissolution. These lessons we will indicate, but not enlarge
upon.

First, the necessity of faithfulness in the fulfilment of our duties.
God has given us a work to do ; we are responsible for its fulfilment.
We know not how soon we must give in our account. We know not

Digitized by VjOOQIC

454 Sabbath Schools.

the day of onr deatb. What folly, what madness, then, to loiter in
the yinejard. Let us work while it is day. Let us not sleep as do
others. Let us consecrate all our powers to God's service, and if any
one should ask us what mean ye by this diligence in duty, let as reply,
" I know not the day of my death."

Second, the necessity of being always ready for death. The lesson
our Saviour taught His auditors, from the fact that the time of His
second advent is uncertain, was this, " Be ye, therefore, ready," Such,
too, is the solemn duty to which we are called by the considerations
we have named. Let us be ever ready, for we know not what shall be
on the morrow. This very night our souls may be required of ns.
* We know not the day of our death."

SABBATH SCHOOLS.*

The subject proposed for our consideration this afternoon— an
enquiry into " The causes that operate to induce so many of our senior
scholars to pass out of onr schools, and prevent them from becoming
identified with the Church of Christ" — is probably the most im-
portant that can engage the attention of the Christian community, and
especially that portion of it employed in the work of Sabbath-school
instruction.

The world has of late been slowly opening its eyes to the great fact,
that our social evils cannot fairly be grappled with-^that plans of
wide-spread improvement have small chance of 'success, unless the
young can be rescued from that state of ignorance and barbarism in
which so many are found ; and trained by early moral culture to
resist the force of depraved associations and vicious example. The
Church, too, which seeks not merely to fit men for the duties of
earthly citizenship, but to provide for the higher interests of an
enduring life, knows full well how difficult it is to obtain a hearing
for Gospel truth, and how its most solemn teachings are despised or
neglected amidst the noise and bustle of this everyday, working world ;
and, therefore, without neglecting her duty to depraved manhood, has
felt impelled for years past to bestow more attention on the rising
race — to take the young while their hearts are yet tender, and ere
their natural bias to sin has developed itself in evil habits of sturdy
growth, and so, seek, by teaching great truths, by bringing principles
of heavenly origin to bear upon the awakening intellect and the yet
unseared conscience, to mould the plastic materials of the Sabbath-
school into something great and noble — something calculated to pro-
mote the best interests of man, and redound to the glory of God.

It is therefore a humbling and a melancholy thing, liiat after many

years of labour, Sabbath- school teachers should be found proposing

the questions we have now to consider. It is gratefully acknowledged

that a good measure of success has crowned their efibrts ; that many

through their instrumentality have been rescued from the ruins of the

* Read by Thomas Scbofield, £sq.« of Rochdale, at the Ninth Sttndav-school Cod-
ference, for the districts of Lancashire, Cheshire, and YorltsMre, and poblished in ov
pages by request,— Editor.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Sabbath Schools. 455

fall ; and while some are before the throne of God in heaven, others
are consistentlj walking through thia world with their faces Zion-
ward ; yet it is to be deplored that many more pass away from our
midst) without ** rendering again according to the benefit done unto
them."

Those who reside in the neighbourhood of Rochdale, and have wit-
nessed the Whit-Friday processions of Sabbath-schools, may perhaps
be of opinion that the teachers of this town have not much reason to
complain of the loss of senior scholars. An extract from a report
published in 1853, of the school connected with this place of worship
miy be quoted, as bearing on this point. It states that 'M31 male
scholars are from 15 to 18 years of age, and 48 from 18 to 25. There
are 170 females, aged from 15 to 20 years, 112 from 20 to 25, and 51
from 25 years upwards. There are 14 scholars with us now who
were scholars in 1835, and must consequently have been with us
eighteen years or more. Forty-six have been in the school fourteen
years ; and 99, ten years." It will thus be seen that while there are
512 scholars in the school from 15 years of age to 25 and upwards,
there are 159 who have been connected with it from 10 to 18 years
or more. The state of school attendance in Rochdale may perhaps be
exceptional ; but there appears no good reason why what is done
here may not be done elsewhere, especially where the population is of
a less fluctuating character. One probable cause of attachment to
schools in thi^ neighbourhood, may be alluded to by-and-bye.

The leading causes that regulate the attendance of scholars at a
Sunday-school, appear to lie very near the surface. Young persons,
like children of larger growth, may make great mistakes about the
best way of securing happiness, but there can- be no doubt that they
are earnest enough in its pursuit. It is deeply to be regretted that
parental authority has so slight a hold upon the children of the work-
ing-classes generally, but it is notorious that their attendance at the
Sunday-school is often the result of their own mere choice. Such
being the case, it is clear that except the time can be spent agreeably
or profitably there, they will soon seek pleasure somewhere else. It is
important, then, that everything connected with a school should be
such as to attract rather than repel the youthful mind and heart ; and
though in this matter there is no royal road to success, the result is
by no means impossible where there is on the part of scholars a willing
mind.

The first great requisite in all our schools, is a more steady appli-
cation of the law of love. By this, is not meant that mistaken kind-
ness which permits disorder, and connives at indolence or obstinacy ;
but that heartfelt regard for the temporal and eternal well-being
of the young, which breaks forth unbidden on every occasion
that permits its exercise, and shines upon the scholars with a warmth
and lustre, which not one of them can fail to feel. It will differ in
its manifestations, according to the character and circumstances of the
individual ; but no sham can deceive the intuitive perception of a
child, and no mental qualities, however great, will ensure success
where this is wholly wanting. Thia heaven-born influence, which

Digitized by VjOOQIC

456 Sabbath Schools.

makes Sunday-school teaching, not a duty merely, hat a delight, will
lead to far more than the routine performance of outward instruction.
It will impel the teacher to hecome acquainted with the wants and
wishes of the class — their youthful trials, struggles, and sorrows —
their home associations, and whatever else the young heart may
feel itself eased by relating. A teacher who will thus endeavour to
identify himself in thought and feeling with his class, will find
his scholars holding by him, where men of higher intelligence would
fail. Let any superintendent look over the sad list of erasures from
the roll book, and he will recognise many an instance in which
patient forbearance, affectionate remonstrance, and the ceaseless
vigilance arising from love to souls, would have led to very differeot
results. Truly, more of meekness and gentleness, — more of the
mind that was in Christ Jesus our Lord, is necessary in order to our
retaining scholars in connexion with our Sunday-schools,

Still, however potent the influence of love may be — especially with
the very young, something more is obviously needed, in order to
secure the respect and attention of an intelligent class. A teacher
may be very kind, and yet wholly incapable of directing the enquiries
of those who perhaps study hard through the week, and meet l^m on
the Sabbath with a desire to have doubts removed, and difficulties
cleared away. It is not very long since I heard a teacher in a Union
meeting, contend that education and preparation were not needful for
the preacher or teacher; and that those who w€;re called like
the apostles to the work, would, like them, be qualified for its
performance. How could such a man be expected to obtain favour
with a thoughtful class ? most of whom would be ready to remind
him that, the Apostle selected to bear the glad tidings of salvation to
distant shores ; to teach the prejudiced Jew, and reason with the phi-
losophic, unbelieving Greek, was a man learned in all the wisdom of
the times, brought up at the feet of Gamaliel. We hear a great deal
said, perhaps, too much, about the mental activity of our age. There is
about it, much that is shallow, and worthless, and vain ; but it is
continually starting topics of vital importance, and dealing with them,
often in a spirit alike irreverent and unwise ; and it is imperative that
our young men especially, should be well grounded in Gospel truth,
and that they should be able to give a reason for the faith they
profess ; and instead of having their enquiries checked as pre-
sumptuous by a teacher, conscious of his own inability to guide
them, they should be instructed so to "prove all things," as to
be able to " hold fast that which is good." Let no Sunday-school
teacher feel discouraged by this view of the case. It is quite true that
education was by no means general as now, when many of our most
valued teachers were young ; but a man who possesses the ability to
readj may at all times, by diligence, keep ahead of those whose experi-
ence is less, and whose powers of observation and reflection, are, as yet,
inferior to his own. Let a teacher always seek to be correct in
his statements, sound in his reasoning, prepared to advance at the
head of his class in the pursuit of knowledge, and he is sure to
derive personal advantage from his position. He will need to labour

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Sabbath Schooh. 457

and study, but his own intellect will be sharpened, and his own
powers quickened thereby. He will acquire the habit of expressing
himself freely and forcibly, and will thus be prepared to take higher
rank among his fellow- men, than he ever could have done, if his
powers had not been developed by this healthy exercise. Let us
never lose sight of the fact, that one great cause of falling away
from our senior classes, is the lack of healthy aliment for a hungry
mind. *

It will not be sufficient, however, for the Church to bring her most
cultivated intellect to the work of Sabbath School instruction, her
members of highest social position, must also throw their weight into
the scale before all will have been done that is necessary to influence
the young. It is not needful to explain that the co-operation of a
rich man is not to be sought merely because he i^ a rich man.
Wealth, we know, is often powerful for evil ; but we know, also, that
when consecrated to God's service it may be greatly promotive of
good. It is frequently affirmed, and with some show of truth, that
there is a coolness of feeling, a distance, ever deepening and widen-
ing, between employers and employed in some districts, which
threatens to be productive of bitter fruits. In this neighbourhood
that coolness and distance is, we believe, comparatively unknown.
Men of ample means and social standing are found labouring in our
Sabbath-schools side by side with their poorer brethren, claiming no
consideration there, and taking no office but such as is accorded by
the free suffrages of their fellow-teachers ; and it is probably owing,
amongst other causes, to the spectacle thus presented, and the moral
influence thus exercised, that many schools in this quarter are so
attractive to the young. Those who are made partakers of Divine
grace, whether rich or poor, are required to present their bodies
a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is their reasonable
service. There is work to be done : work for all : and if any might
claim exemption from Sabbath- school labour, it is surely not those
(whether male or female) who have opportunities for social inter-
course and home enjoyments, while many Lord's- day labourers are
engaged in earning their daily bread. Mere self-denial in this
respect, more active co-operation in Christian effort, would go far to
destroy the notion that the intergats and inclinations of rich and poor
men lie widely apart ; and by bringing greater refinement of manner,
and perhaps more extensive information to the work, would help to
remove one element that now militates against the prosperity of
Sunday-schools.

Among the causes that lead young persons to forsake the school
and prevent them from uniting with the Church, there is none more
fatal than neglect of the Lord's house, resulting, as it always does,
in Sabbath desecration, often in intemperance and crime. It is not
needful, here, to enumerate the attractions which lure young people
from right courses. No good could accrue from a repetition of what
is painfully familiar to many of us, and it is not so much the object
of this paper to dwell on such details, as to point out how certain
hindrances to success may best be overcome. We cannot forcibly

Digitized by VjOOQIC

458 Sabbath Schools.

withdraw our deladed scliolars from the hamits of vice and foUj, but
we may watch orer them in love so as to prevent them from fijling
an easy prey to the destroyer. We cannot compel attendance upon
public worship ; bat apart from the influence of worldly companion-
ships and the natural bias towards evil of the unrenewed heart, there
is a cause for its neglect not often saspected, or, at least, not dwelt upon,
viz., the general absence of earnest, well-directed efforts to make the
services of the sanctuary interesting to the verjr young. How often
is their presence there edtogether ignored, except when their restless-
ness elicits a rebuke — that restlessness itself induced by having no-
thing to do, and no demand upon their attention being directly made.
Many a boy who has sat thus through hours of compulsory quiet, has
felt the services so irksome and unprofitable that incipient dislike
has grown into rooted aversion, and his first assumption of liberty of
action has been shown in absence from the place. Now, I should
be very sorry if these remarks should be so construed as to imply a
want of respect for those who occupy our pulpits, and break to us the
bread of eternal life. I only state an important fact, in the hope
that, if possible, some remedy may be applied. It is, no doubt, a
difficult thing to prepare a discourse suitable to the requirements of
adult hearers, which shall yet be so plain in its langaage and simple in
its illustrations as to meet the capacity of the young ; and some who
have felt this have suggested that separate services should be held, in
which our scholars might be specially addressed. This would cer-
tainly be an excellent thing, and it is already practised in some
places, but does not meet the case. The object should be to make the
ordinary services of God's house so attracting and instructive, that the
language of our young people might ever be, " I have been there, and
still would go. 'TIS like a little heaven below." Some ministers are
in the habit of addressing a few words every now and then to the
juvenile portion of their hearers, and the efiect produced is striking
and suggestive. The boy who was beginning to count his buttons,
knot his pocket-handkerchief, or whisper to his companions, at once
looks earnestly upward in wrapt attention to the portion intended for
himself. The little thus brought down to his comprehension, induces
him to listen, for a time at least, to more grave discourse ; and young
persons who thus become interested in a part of a sermon, may soon
be expected to understand and relish the whole. One thing is certaio,
the members of our congregations who feel interested in the young—
and who does not 1 — ^will readily excuse an occasional departure from
the loftier style in which a minister may usually present Gospel truth,
in order that a more simple and direct appeal may be made to the
young. Whenever this comes to be generally practiced, one cause of
loss to our schools and churches will, 1 believe, be done away.

After all, however, that has yet been said, it must be confessed that
the main reason why conversions in our schools are comparanvelj
unfrei^uent, is the want of more earnest and decided piety amongst
us who are teachers, and whose duty it is to watch over souls as those
that must give account at last. Let any one examine the roll-books
of a large school where there are a number of classes pretty much on

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Sabbath Schools. 459

a par in respect to age and general ontward drcumstances, and he will
find that while one class^ of perhaps twenty scholars, will contain six-
teen or eighteen who are members of the chnrch, others will have only
two or three who are so, and some none at all. Why is this ? If we
were to ask every teacher what he thought was the reason why his
scholars were not yet converted, no doubt very different answers
would be given, and all of them more or less to the point ; but is it not
likely that some would be puzzled what to say in reply, and if they
would be candid enough to speak out, would probably admit that reaUy
thej had never asked themselves that particular question, though it is
the question, of all others, which ought to be ever present to a Sun-
day-school teacher's mind ? The fact is, there is among us all too
much of a disposition to lose sight of our individuality, to merge our-
selves in the mass ; but the truth must be repeated again and again, till
its vast might and meaning comes home to us all, that till every teacher
feels himself and herself personally responsible in the matter, our schools
will never become what it is God's will they should be. Truly, it is a
solemn, soul-subduing thing for a man to stand at the superintendent's
desk, and feel that not only the order of the school, but the general
tone of feeling which pervades it, will depend materially upon the way
in which he does his duty. But let it never be forgotten that no effort
on the part of a superintendent can maintain good order unaided by
the teachers, and that no occasional address can convey all the spiritual
instruction which it is the teacher's duty to supply. A Sunday-school
teacher, in his class, occupies about the most responsible position in
this world. He sits there amid a circle of young immortals, who are
committed to his especial care, and knows that their everlasting des-
tiny may be influenced by the way in which he fulfils his post ; for
though it is true that no power beneath Omnipotence can raise a fallen
spirit, renew an unholy nature, or humble the pride of a rebellious
heart, yet we, through mercy, may be instrumental in turning sinners
from the error of their way. A teacher enjoys advantages not shared
by the preacher, who can only address his congregation as a whole.
He knows his scholars individually — their varied tempers and peculiar
besetments, — and can address them separately in words of exhortation
and warning. When a boy comes under my care I engage, tacitly, to
teach him what I know of truth ; above all, the truth as it is in
Jesus ; and it is for me to remember that I must one day meet him at
the bar of God ; and oh ! if I should then hear him say, " This man
was once my teacher ; his duty to my soul demanded from him the
most patient care, the most friendly counsel, the most unwearied
prayerful efforts to guide my young feet into the way of peace ; but
his cold instructions, his want of sympathy, his carelessness of manner,
all led me to think lightly of religion, or defer seeking it till a future
time. I might easily have been led to Jesus then, but he never
earnestly sought it. I went from under his care, and he never more
noticed me. I got into the world, where his warning voice never
followed me, and now the harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I
am not saved." We must not only be earnest, but consistent. We
must remember that scholars watch our every look, and note every ►

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

460 Godlinesi viewed in connection with Temporal Things.

thing like a careless word ; and will jadge of the strength of our own
belief in the great truths we profess, bj the consistency with which we
practice them. And although when we remember that our scholars
are looking to us for guidance and example, the sense of responsibilitj
may be painfully strong, and anxiety for their welfare amount almost
to agony, yet if all this serves but to drive us nearer to the throne of
grace, to keep closer watch on our Christian character and conduct,
and increases our desire to become such instruments as the Lord can
use ; then, when we rise into newness of life, exhibiting a more
earnest zeal, a more pure devotion, the main obstacle to success in oar
great undertaking will assuredly be done away. In this spirit, then,
lei us live and labour— hoping, expecting, to see our scholars early
converted to God, and so fitted for the active duties of life. Then
from the Sunday-school scholars of our country shall go forth an in-
fluence which shall fill the whole earth — striking the electric chain
which binds in one brotherhood all nations of men — bringing them
down from the heights of a false philosophy — raising them from the
depths of superstition and defilement — ^and bringing them to the feet
of Jesus, *' clothed and in their right mind." Then from every part of
our renewed and emancipated world shall ascend ascriptions of praise
'* unto Him that hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in His
own blood ;" and firom the broad, upheaving bosom of this wide
universe shall ascend the pealing chorus, " Hallelujah ! for the Lord
God Omnipotent reigneth," and shall reign for evermore.

GODLINESS VIEWED IN CONNECTION WITH
TEMPORAL THINGS.

No. in.

We have now looked at the value of godliness in two aspects : physieaUy
and mentally. We have seen how valuable it was as a preservative of one
of the greatest blessings of life, viz., good health. We have seen how it
tranquillises the mind, even in times of affliction and bereavement
We nave seen how it frees man from many uneasy sensations which
would naturally arise, when looking at the fact that he must •'go the
way of all flesh," and we justly observed, that by thus freeing his mind from
many unpleasant contemplations of the grave, it prepared him toeDJoy his
temporal blessings. On the other hand, we have seen the uncurbed passioDS
of those destitute of godliness, bringing upon themselves a large amount of
physical suflFering. We have seen how liable they must be to destroy that
great boon of life — good health. We have also further seen how utterly im-
possibls it is that the mind of an ungodly man, living in a land of light and
truth, should be in a state to allow its possessor the full ejoyment of tem-
poral things." Let us now observe the value of sodliness in another
aspect. Let us endeavour to show how beneficial is the influence it exerts
upon our welfare.

Intellectually.
It is perfectly within the scope of our object to look at its value in this
aspect, for this is a source from which we derive a large amount of pleasore*
and which conduces in no small degree to our happiness. Those who hire

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Godliness viewed in connection toith Temporal Things. 461

cultured the intellect, and who have embarked in the pursuit of knowledge,
can testify to the truth of this statement. The deeper we dive into the sea
of knowledge, the stronger grows the desire to dive deeper stilL The higher
we climb in pursuit of learning, the more do we strive to gain a higher
position still.

It must be borne in mind that godliness, in benefitting us physically,
exerts no unimportant influence on our intellectual state. Without a sound
physical constitution, the intellectual powers of the mind can never be fully
developed. The intimate connexion existing between the body and the
mind renders it absolutely necessary that the former should be perfectly
healthy for the free exercising and full development of the powers belonging
to the latter. We must also further remember that godliness by tranquil-
lising and allaying the anxiety of the mind, also in no small measure contri-
butes to our intellectual advancement. How can any one constantly scared
by phantoms of future miseries, exercise unclogged and untrammelled, the
intellectual powers ? Even while the ungodly are engaged in pursuing
koowledge, how often must the pleasure which they could derive therefrom,
be marred by feelings of uneasiness, doubt, and fear.

Thus there is not only the physical evil which ungodly men bring upon
themselves, exerting an evil influence upon their intellectual condition ; but
there will also probably be that unsettled state of mind which unfits it for a
vigorous prosecution of the work requisite to become in the true sense of the
word " intellectual."

Taking, then, into consideration these facts, we may safely affirm that
the ungodly are not so prepared to grapple with difficulties as those deeply
imbued with the principles of godliness ; for, as we have shown before, it is
exceedingly probable that they will not be, either physically or mentally, in
such a position as the Christian.

We shall, however, endeavour to bring yet more evidence to show how
valuable religion is in this respect ; and we would just state, before we do
this, that we are perfectly well aware that men may and do become " intel-
lectually great" without godliness. We readily admit that many have
laboured, aye, and laboured hard, to become wise men, and yet have remained
strangers to that " wisdom which cometh from above." We know full well
that even the pleasure which such derive from the pursuit of knowledge,
increases and fires their ardour in that pursuit. We know, too, that such
have, to gratify the curiosity of the human mind, pursued with indomitable
perseverance, the path of knowledge, and eventually they have planted
their feet in no mean niche in the temple of Fame. Nevertheless, we shall
find that godliness promotes in no small degree the development of our in-
tellectual powers. We shall find it holds out extra inducements and encou-
ragements for undertaking the amount of labour required. We shall find
that the amount of pleasure derived by the ungodly from intellectual pur-
suits is not worth comparing with that which the godly man procures from
the same source. We shall find the absurd notion, that piety and intellectual
culture were incompatible to be perfectly false and unfounded. In short,
we shall discover that godliness, in a variety of ways, wonderfully promotes
our intellectual advancement.

If we examine the direct teachings of godliness upon this subject, we
find that those teachings impress upon our minds the fact, " that for the soul
to be without knowledge, it is not good." We are exhorted " to take fast
hold of instruction," and " not to let her go." We are constantly urged upon
to follow after knowledge and to seek truth. We cannot obtain knowledge
nor find out truths without employing, to a certain extent, our intellectual
powers, and therefore, those numerous passages contained in the Bible,
which teach us to love knowledge and truth, are equivalent to enjoining
upon us the duty of " intellectutd culture." Thus the -direct teaching of

Digitized by VjOOQIC

462 Godliness viewed in conneeiion with Temporal Things,

godlinefls is favourable to intelleptnal culture. And we assert, without fear
of contradiction, that if we obtain it when yoong, we shall find that its
tendency is,

" To give subtlety to the simple, to the yonngman knowledge and discretion ."

Whatever hooka the godly man neglects, he will not neglect his Bible.
He will most certainly be *^ a man or one book." Now the study of the
Bible has often led, nay, we may say it invariably leads, a man to exercise
some amount of mental activity. Although its vital truths are so plain and
simple, *'that a wayfieuring man, though a fool, need not err therein."
Nevertheless, there are many things in connexion with the word of God
which naturally lead us to exercise our intellectual powers. Numbers who
have scarcely taken the trouble to study other books, ere they became expe-
rimentally acquainted with the truths of the Bible, have been led by it to
study history, theology, languages, and many more branches of knowledge.
They often see the necessity of being in a position to defend their prindpTes
against the attacks of ungodly men. They are led to studv subjects which
throw light upon the truths contained in the word of God. In £act, they
will naturally be led to pursue paths which they probably never would
have trod had they not come in contact with that book, which godliness
teaches them to regard as the '' Word of God."

Again. It is an undeniable fact that those who possess godliness are the
great carers for their fellow-men. Professors of godliness may exclaim,
" Am I my brother's keeper ?*' but possessors never will. They will be
found caring for the temporal concerns of their brethren. But godliness
also teaches them to look upon the unregenerate around them as going
down a broad wa^ to destruction. They are taueht to regard it as their
duty to bring, if possible, those wandering souls to that Saviour which
alone can rescue them. They firmly believe that the mnsom of the soul i^
precious. None can have a higher estimate of the soul's worth than the
possessor of godliness. He knows something of that spirit which led the
poet to exclaim —

*' Knowest thou the value of a soul immortal."

Godliness assures him that '* he that conv^teth a sinner from the error
of his ways, saveth a soul from hell and hideth a multitude of sifts.** He,
whom godliness teaches them to regard as their living Head, and whose
example the^ are to imitate, '* went about doing goMi." Now we can
readily conceive how strong the desire of these godly men will be to save
their iellowmen from destruction. With this burning love to the souls of
men, with this view of their inestimable value, and with a conviction that
knowledge will be of great service in such a work, we find here most
powerful inducement to intellectual culture.

Further, Godliness teaches them to regard the powers they possess for
acquiring knowledge as so many talents, which, however small, most be
employed to his glory. They feel responsible for those talents. They are
taught that they will have to render an account before their Great Judlge of
the manner in which they have employed them. So that how much soever
they may feel inclined to relax their endeavours in the task of obtaining
knowledge, yet they feel it a duty they owe to God and man, and they daie
not neglect those gifts which God hath bestowed upon them, and which
would assist them in the great work of bringing their fellow-creatures to a
knowledge of the truth " as it is in Christ Jesus." Then we must also
take into consideration another fact, and that is the stimulus which must be
given to their intellectual operations, from a conviction that they will be
abundantly rewarded for their exertions. Aye, rewarded even in this life.
What an amount of pleasure we feel when we do good to the bodies of men.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Godliness viewed in connection with Temporal Things. 463

How happy do we feel after performing some act of charit^r in relieyin^ the
wants and necessities of the destitute. But great as this pleasure is, it
bears no comparison to the pleasure which he must feel who endeavours
to do good to their souls, inasmuch as the mortal bears no comparison in
value, to the immortal. Ungodly men must see that it cannot but afford a
large amount of happiness to a Christian to be engaged in such a work, if
they duly take into consideration the views he has of the value of man's
immortal soul. Those who have often been wearied with their labours in
endeavouring to promulgate the truths of the Gospel will readily compre-
hend how important must be such an influence upon the mind. Why,
setting apart the great and glorious reward the godly man believes he will
receivo in eternity, by faithfully employing his talents in his Master's
service here, the Imowledge of the joy experienced upon earth in such a-
work is of itself sufficient to impel him onward. Difficulties will be
grappled with nobly, and in the struggle he will be cheered and encouraged
by the thought, that the exertion required will not be '< labour in vain," and
strength spent for nought.

Moreover, we have already stated ^that godliness presents a vivid view of
the future world before us. We have seen how it brings " life and immor-
tality to light." Now these views which godliness places before us, must
exercise a favourable influence upon our intellectual operations. The godly
man believes that if he proves faithful unto death, that in the world to
come, he will be the companion of a higher order of intelligent beings. He
is to mingle among angels and archangels. He believes that he will rise
higher and higher in the scale of intelligence to all eternity: that his
powers for attaining knowledge will be stronger — that his facilities will be
greater. The higher his attainment on earth, the higher it will be in
heaven. He is to take his flight from the summit he has reached, during
the period of his probationary state. From that summit, he rises unimpeded
in his progress, and wings his flight upward, ascending higher and higher
as long as eternal ages roll. We leave the reader to imagine what a stimu-
lus must here be given to intellectual exertion. What an advantage must
he have who possesses godliness, over him who regards man as destined to
plunge into the gloomy gulf of annihilation, or who, if he believes in im«
mortality, has no definite view of what that immortality has in store for
him.

farther, in pursuing knowledge, and in the cultivation of the mind, it
is of great importance that we should be of a humble teachable disposition*
Undoubtedly, many, who might have been ornaments in the inteUectual
world, have never become so on account of their pride. Pride leads us to
trust too much to ourselves. Many when they have obtained what might
justly be called, only " a smattering of knowledge," have been puffed up, and
they have persuaded themselves that they were << very wise men." They
have therefore deemed it unnecessary that they should continue to put forth
such strenuous efforts, as they had been accustomed to do. Such will al-
ways lose many valuable lessons bjr vainly imagining themselves too wise
to receive lessons from some, who in their estimation are inferior to them-
selves. Now the possession of godliness vnll preserve us irom " thinking
more highly of ourselves than wo ought to think." He who is ruled by its
principles will be clothed with humility. The godly man is required to
imitate his Master Jesus Christ, and even ungodly men acknowledge Him
to be a pattern of humility. The true Christian will therefore always be
ready and glad *' to receive instruction, and listen to the words of under-
standing." Grodliness having this tendency cannot but exercise a beneficial
influence upon our intellectual state ; anytning which checks that tendency
within us to exalt ourselves, must, we think, prepare us for acquiring know-
ledge. We are perfectly aware, that there may be many learned men

Digitized by VjOOQIC

464 Godliness viewed in connection with Temporal Things,

i^ithont godliness, who yet may be so humble, as to regard themselves as
mere babes in knowledge ; nevertheless we are persuaded, that he alone is
secure from this evil, who is ruled in his motives and actions by the prin-
ciples o^ godliness.

Agatfif take into consideration the beneficial effect, which the pleasure de-
rived by the good man from the pursuit of knowledge, must have upon his
intellectual state. We do not mean that pleasure common to aU who engage in
this pursuit. We refer to the pleasure he experiences unknown to, and anfelt
by strangers to religion. Does the Christian enter the domain of science?
As he wanders far into its avenues, he beholds almost at every step, exhibi-
tions of the wisdom and goodness of that Being, whom godliness teaches
him to regard as his Creator, his Preserver, and his Redeemer. It is inte-
resting to discover by science, that those bright stars which appear like so
many small diamonds in the heavens, are so many worlds flung into space
to revolve with the utmost regularity aroand their orbits. But how much
more interesting must that science be to him, which discovers to ns that
fact, who is persuaded that the same Almighty arm which revolves them
there, will guide and lead him through the chequered scenes of life. It is
interesting to discover in the constitution of our atmosphere, traces of de-
sign, bat how much more interesting must that science be, which supplies
us with the knowledge of its elements to him, who looks upon this Being of
wisdom as his Father and Friend. Think of all the various branches of
science, and you must admit that they must afford more real pleasure and
delight to him, who can recognize in the Creator of all things this relation-
ship, than they can possibly afford to him, who may be said to be without
Qod and without hope in the world. If religion does this, it must be no
mean stimulus to exertion in intellectual pursuits. We must howeyer
now draw to a conclusion of this part of our subject. We find that the more
we think about it, the greater becomes the number of those considerations,
which we might place before the reader, showing the beneficial tendency of
true religion upon the intellect. We leave it therefore for the minds of the
thoughtful. Let us hope that we shall cease to hear of that absurd notion,
which would persuade us, that piety and intellectuality are not compatible:
It is not for us to s&j, how any could fall into such an error, as to suppose
that religion was an impediment to intellectual progress. We will however
boldly assert that experience directly contradicts such a statement Look
at those who have shone like so many glittering stars in the literary finna-
ment. We find great philosophers, men of science, historians, linguists, &c.,
possessing true religion. Nay, we will go further. We believe that num-
bers, whose productions have called forth the plaudits of an admiring world
would never have risen to such a pre-eminent position, if they had not
bathed their souls in the sublime truths of the Gospel. Need we do more
than appeal to your own observation. If you are an observer of men and
things, you must have often seen the effect of religion in this respect Go
among the godly and among the ungodly, and we venture to affirm, that
the amount of intellect you will find among the former, will far exceed that
which you will discover in the ranks of the latter.

That those who imagine the Grospel is too low for their '* massive intel-
lects,'' should propagate this sentiment is not surprising ; but that an^ who
have felt its power should believe it, is to us as surprising as it is QO*
accountable.

Sunderland. F.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

465

AN AGED SAINT IN A POOR-HOUSE.

In a religious paper, daring the present year, there was pnhlished an
obituary notice of a Christian female, who had died at the age of seventy-
six, in a country poor-house. The obituary says of her, that " more than
half-a-century ago she became the subject of God's ^race ; that she Toved the
praying circle, and house of God, and always loved to talk about the
Saviour's love, and the exercises of a gracious soul." A recent correspon-
dent of the paper in which this obituary appeared, passes some very just
censures upon the Church with which this aged Christian was connected,
and furthermore adds : ^ I have reason to believe that, from the time she
was sent to the poor-house to the day of her death, she never heard a
sermon, never was made glad by a pastoral visit; but there lived and died,
a Church-neglected, but not a God-forgotten, saint."

We publish the above without giving names, localities, or dates ; for our
purpose is not to point the finger of scorn at any one, but to impress a pro-
fitable lesson upon ourselves. Is it, disciple of Christ, an impossibility for
such a sad occurrence to happen in the Church where we worship ? Is
there such a degree of Christian acquaintanceship among the brethren of
the household of faith, that one of our Church members could not fall into
poverty and sickness without its being known, and if known, without the
Bufiferer being pitied and relieved ? Do we feel, in any adequate degree,
that one purpose of our being incorporated into a Church is, that mutual
sympathy may be in continual exercise, and that it can only be exercised
by seeking to know at least some little about those with whom God com-
mands us to rejoice and weep ? There is danger lest, in the hurry and the
hustle of these busy times of ours, we do not often enough question our-
selves as to the duties we owe to God, to others, and to ourselves, in the
varied relations of Ufe. We are Christians, good reader, at least by profes-
sion, and it would do you and us much good if an hour were more fre-
quently spent by us in considering what the name of Christian means, and
what privileges and obligations the relationship brings with it. A genuine
Christian possesses the gpint of Christ, and he will be often asking. How
wonld Christ htive me to act ? Now, in regard to the poor of the Lord's
flock, and the conduct one ought to display to them, the life of Christ gives
satisfactory answers, for he " went about "doing good, and healing all that
were oppressed of the devil." (Acts x. 38.) The Saviour of sinners would
never leave one exposed to the cold charities of the world. He put no
confidence in men, because he knew what was in them ; and therefore to
nnregenerate men he never gave the poor as a solemn trust. No ! he knew
men too well for that. But to His Church Ae did commit them ; and in
delivery of the trust, he provided for its faithful discharge, by giving them
his Spirit to dwell in them ; and he furthermore declared, They are the
sons of God who are led by the Spirit of God. Let us therefore begin to
look about us, and consider our duties, remembering, above all, that if we
do not discharge our home duties in the more limited circles of our families
and our Church, if we do not provide for these who are so peculiarly our
own, Paul speaks about us in very plain language, declaring that we have
denied the faith, and are worse than infidels. (1 Tim. v. 8.) And it is true ;
for if the Church of Christ did not care at all for the orphans and the
widows, the sick, the oppressed, and the poor, she would have lost one of
the shining marks of her divine original. And when she fully 'awakes to a
sense of her duty and privilege in this respect, then will she display so
many of the heavenly lineaments, that many who now revile will then bless
and seek alliance with her. The Church of Rome has always claimed for
herself the power of working miracles, and has thus sought to prove herself,

2 G

Digitized by VjOOQIC

466 Can these Dry Bones Live f

to be the true Church. But the faithful doing of the i^ill of Christ is a
clearer proof of Divine authority than the working of all miracles ; for
when, upon a certain occasion, the Corinthian Christians were seeking, in
the spirit of emulation, the possession of the extraordinary and miraculous
gifts of the Holy Ghost, Paul replied to them : " Covet earnestly the best
gifts : and yet snow I unto you a. more excellent way." (1 Cor. ziL 31.)
As if he said, " These miraculous powers which you desire to possess are
very important, and will subserve the great interests of the kingdom of
Christ, and therefore ^ou do well in wishing to have them ; but 1 will tell

Jou of something which will effect far more good for the cause of the Ee-
eemer than speaking with tonnes, or the recovering of the sight of the
blind ; have and exercise Christian charity, and you wul accomplish results
which cannot be estimated by man's arithmetic.

Taught, then, by the "Word of God, let us learn how much avails the
doing of our common, homely, every-day duties of humility, patience, for-
giveness, and sympathy, to the defence and progress of our beloved Christi-
anity. And if we should learn and practise these duties in the little home
circle of our own congregation, we should at once see verified what oar

Lord said of the Churdi : '* Ye are the salt of the earth ye are the

light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid." (Matt. v.
X3, 14.) Think of these things, ye Church-members, ye elders, ye deacons,
who know scarcely more of the members of your own Church than you do
of those who worship a thousand itiles from you.

«CAN THESE DRY BONES LIVE?*'

Thbrb is a remakable phenomena to be seen on certain parts of oar owo
•ooast. Strange to say, it proves, notwithstanding such expressions as the
stable and solid land, that it is not the land but the sea which is the stable
element. On some summer day, when there is not a wave to rock her, nor
breath of wind to fill her sail or fan a cheek, you launch your boat noon
the waters, and, pulling out beyond lowest tide-mark, you idly lie upon her
bows to catch the silvery glance of a passing fish, or watch the movements
of the many curious creatures that travel tne sea's sandy bed, or creeping
out of their rocky homes, wander its tangled mazes. If the traveUeris
surprised to find a deep-sea shell embedded in the marbles of a mountain
peaK, how great is your surprise to see beneath you a vegetation foreign
to the deep ! Below your boat, submerged many feet beneath the surface
of the lowest tide, away down in these green crystal depths, you see no
rusting anchor, no mouldering remains of some shipwreoked one, but, in
the standing stumps of trees, you discover the mouldering vestiges of a
forest, where once the wild cat prowled, and the birds of heaven, singing
their loves, had nestled and nursed their young. In counterpart to those
portions of our coast where sea-hollowed caves, with sides the waves have
polished, and floors still strewed with shells and sand, now stand high
above the level of strongest spring-tides, there stand theae dead decaying
trees — entombed in the deep. A strange phenomenon, which admits of no
other explanation than this, that there the coast line has sunk beneath its
ancient leveL

Many of our cities present a phenomena as melancholy to the eye of a
philanthropist, as the other is interesting to a philosopher or geologist. In
their economical, educational, moral, and religious aspects, certain parts of
this city bear palpable evidence of a corresponding subsidence. Not a
single house, nor a block of houses, but whole streets, once firom end to end
tibe abodes (k decency, and industry, and wealth, and rank, and piety, have

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

Can these Dry Banes Live? 467

been engulplied. A flood of ignorance, and misery, and sin, now breaks and
roars above the top of their highest tenements. Nor do the old stumps of
a forest, still standing up erect beneath the sea- wave, indicate a greater
change, a deeper subsidence, than the relics of ancient grandeur, and the
touching memorials of piety which yet linger about these wretched dwell-
ings, like evening twilight on the hills— like some traces of beauty on a
corpse. The unfurnished floor, the begrimed and naked walls, the stifling,
sickening atmosphere, the patched and dusty window— through which a
sunbeam, like hope, is faintly stealing— the ragged, hunger-bitten, and sad-
faced children, the ruffian man, the heap of straw where some wretched
mother, in muttering dreams, sleeps off last night's debauch, or lies un-
shrouded and uncomned in the ghastliness of a hopeless death, are sad
scenes. We have often looked on them. And they appear all the sadder
for the restless play of fancy. Excited by some vestiges of a fresco-painting
that; still looks out from the foul and broken plaster, the massive marble
rising over the cold and cracked hearth-stone, an elaborately carved cor^
nice too high for shivering cold to pull it down for fuel, some stucco flowers
or fruit yet pendant on the crumbling ceiling, — fjEUicy, kindled by these,
calls up the scenes and actors of other days, when beauty, elegance, and
fashion graced these lonely halls, and plenty smoked on groaning tables,
and where these few cinders, gathered from the city dust-heap, are feebly
smouldering, hospitable fires roared up the chimney.

But there is that in and about these houses which bears witness of a
deeper subsidence, a yet sadder change. Bent on some mission of mercy,
you stand at the foot of a dank and filthy stair. It conducts you to the
crowded rooms of a tenement, where — with the exception of some old
decent widow who has seen better days, and when her family are all dead,
and her friends are all gone, still clings to God and her faith in the dark
hour of adversity and amid the wreck of fortune— from the cellar-dens
below to the garrets beneath the roof- tree,, you shall find none either read-
ing their Bible, or even with a Bible to read. Alas ! of prayer, of morning
or evening psalms, of earthly or heavenly peace, it may be said the place
that once knew them, knows them no more. But before yoti enter
the doorway, raise your eyes to the stone above it. Dumb, it yet
speaks of other and better times. Carved in Greek or Latin, or our own
. mother tongue, you decipher such texts as these : — ^* Peace be to this
house." " Except the Lord built the house, they labour in vain that build
it" "We have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal
in the heavens.*' "Fear God." Or this— " Love your neighbour." Like
the mouldering remnants of a forest that once resounded with the melody
of birds, but hears nought now save the angry dash or melancholy moan of
breaking waves, these vestiges of piety furnish a gauge which enables us
to measure how low in these dark localities the whole stratum of society
has sunk.

Now there are forces in nature which, heaping up the crust of our earth,
may convert that sea-bed again into forest or com land. At this moment
these forces are in active operation. Working slowly, yet with prodigious
power, they are now raising the coasts of Sweden in the old world, and of
Chili in the new. And who knows but that these subterranean agencies,
elevating our own coasts, may yet restore verdure to those deep-sea sands
--giving back to the plough its soil, to waving pines their forest land 1 And
thus on our shores, redeemed from the grasp of the ocean in some future
era, golden harvests may fall to the reaper's song, and tall forests to the
woodman's axe. We know not whether this snail happen. But I do
know that there is a force at work in this world — gentle, yet powerful— -
commonly slow in action, but always sure in its results, which, mightier
than volcanic fires, pent-up vapour, or rocking earthquake, is adequate to

2 G 2

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

468 Can these Dry Bones Live?

raise the most sunken masses of society^'and restore the lowest and longest
neglected districts of our cities to their old level — to set them on the ^t-
form eyen of a higher Christianity.

Can these people ever be raised % Can those "dry bones live T ^* Where
is the Lord God of Elijah 1" are questions — distressbg questiouEh—which,
when worn and weaiy, and disappointed, and cast down, and heartHsick, we
Jhave been often tempted to ask. Of such times, we oould say with David,
** We had fainted, unless we had believed to see the goodness of the Lordia
the land of the living." But this voice of God came sounding down from
heaven, saying, ** Though ye have lain among the pots, yet ye shall be as
the wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold."
When ready to sink under a sense of our own feebleness, it said to us,
'* The chariots of God are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels ; the
liord is among them, as in Sinai, in the holy pUce." To the question, Can
these lost ones be recovered ? the answer came in these brave, and bold,
and cheerful terms—'' I will bring again from Bashan ; I will bring My
people again from the depths of the sea, that thy foot may be dipped in the
Dlood of thine enemies, and the tongue of thy dogs in the same.'* And, as
he stood on the heights of inspiration, looking & away into distant time,
and commanding an extent of prospect hid from common eyes, we heard
the prophet announce the approaching of the promised event, a glorioiu
Gospel change—** They have seen thy goings, O God ; even the goings of
my King in the sanctuary. The singers went before, the players on instra-
ments followed after ; amonff them were the damsels playing on timbrels.
There is little Benjamin with the ruler, the princes of Judah with thdr
council, the prince of Zebulon and the princes of Naphtali. Thy God hath
commanded thy strength. Strengthen, O God, that which Thou hast
wrought for as. Sing unto God, ye kingdoms of the earth, O sing praises
.unto the Lord."

Yes ! To put new vigour into his sinking energies, a man has only to
** remember the years of the right hand of the Most High." How does the
Gospel of Jesus Christ, crowned with triumphs, point her sceptre not to
.families, nor hamlets, nor cities, but whole nations, raised from the lowest
barbarism and the basest vices !

We cannot despair so long as we do not forget that the power of God,
and the wisdom of God, and the grace of God, have nothing to do within
our shores which they have not done already. Are our lapsed classes mde
and uncultivated, ignorant and vicious ? So were our fore&thers, when
Christianity landed on this island. She took possession of it in Jesus'
name, and conquered bold savages, whom the Bomans oould never subdue,
by the mild yet mighty power of the GospeL Gkxi's ''hand is not shortened
that it cannot save, nor is His ear heavy that it cannot hear." Therefore,
whatever length of time may be required to evangelize our city masses,
however long we may be living before the period when a " nation shall be
born in a day," whatever trials of patience we may have to endure, what-
ever tears we may have to shed over our cities, our tears are not such as
Jesus wept, when He beheld Jerusalem.

No ! Jerusalem was sealed to ruin — doomed beyond redemption. Our
brethren, our cities are not so. We have not to mourn as those who have
no hope. As on a summer day I have seen the sky at once so shine and
shower, that every rain-drop was changed by sunbeams into a fidling
diamond, so hopes mingled nere with fears, and the promises of the
Gospel shed sun-light on pious sorrows. Weep we may ; weep we
should, — weep and work, weep and pray. But ever let our tears be
such as Jesus shed beside the tomb of Lazarus, when, while weepiog;
groaning, He bade the bystanders roll away the stone — anticipating the
moment when the grave at His conmiand would give up its dead, and

Digitized by VjOOQIC

An Heir omitted in the WUL 469^

Lazarus be folded, a liying brother, in the arms that, four days ago, had
swathed his corpse. Be such our tears and anticipations. Sustained by
them, we shall work all the better ; and all the sooner shall our heavenly
Father embrace the most wretched of these wretched outcasts. Faith may
be cast down, but cannot be destroyed. There is no reason, because we are
" perplexed," ever to " despair." Black as the prospect looks, the cloud
presents one aspect to the world, and another to the Christian. I stand on
the side of it that lies next the sun. There, with the sun shining at my
back and the black cloud in my eye, I see a radiant bow which spans its
darkness, and reveals in heavenly colours mercy to a fallen world. " It is
a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ came
into the world to save sinners."-^ T^ City : Its Sim and Sorrows*

AN HEIR OMITTED IN THE WILL.

In a town near that in which the writer resides, there has been occa-
sioned deep regret by an omission referred to in the above title. A wealthy
farmer becoming infirm, was thus reminded of the necessity of causing his
last Will to be drawn, for the benefit and guidance of his heirs. This part
of '^life's work," the dying man, and others interested, fally supposed that
he bad duly executed. But it so happened that one heir had been entirely
omitted. Unfortunately, this omission was not noticed till after the good
man (for we hope he was a Christian) had gone to rest. He had not an
unworthy heir among them all, and hence the omission was extremely to be
regretted, but could not then be remedied by the testator ; it was too late.
Let it suffice for the present to say, that the estate had been settled, and the
silent, uncomplaining heir has stUl been omitted, and it is now feared, he
will never receive his due portion.

Before giving further particulars, I want to say to my friends having
property —

1. Make your will. Do not think about it merely ; but see that it is

2. See that it is made in season ; while your memory does not fail you,
and before the occurrence of that sudden attack of sidkness, or that unex-
pected casualty, that ma^ bring you quick down to the ffrave.

3. See that your will is drawn according to law. Many have been set
aside because of legal defects. Be sure that it is drawn according to law,
and duly witnessed.

4. See that your bequests are justly apportioned. Though there may be
good reasons, sometimes, for making a dinerence as to the amount given to
the several heirs, yet these differences should ne\er be founded on partiali-
ties or favouritism. Benjamin shoidd cease to be Benjamin, when receiving
a dying parent's blessing.

5. In drawing your will, be extremely careful to include all the heirs.
We may love afl our heirs most tenderly, and still it is possible that from
forgetfulness, or in the unwonted anxiety of the moment, some one name of
our lawful heirs shall be overlooked. Indeed, I am quite convinced that it
is often done, and that it is not always rectified by the courts.

Now, I do not suppose you can forget any of your children. That would
seem impossible. But I am afraid you would forget Him who set you up in
business, who has preserved you and yours, who has caused you to prosper,
in the acquisition of property. K you have an heir at all, surelj he is one
Webster says, " An heir is one entitled to possess." Now, my friend, is not
God entitled to some of that property which you are about to distribute?
Can you go calmly up to the judgment, can you consent to enter on
that gbrious inheritance above, to whic^, perhaps, you are looking for-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

470 Sceptkism not BatianaUsm.

WBfd, without first recognising Him tm an heir in yonr Will, who hss not
only given you all your present property, but His own 8on, that you
might become an heir to his heayenly inheritance ? Is He not a lawM
heir, and will you do Him the injustice to leave his name out of your
Will, when you so soon expect to be summoned into his holy presence?
He may have children as dear to Him as yours are to yon, and who would
be equally benefited by sharing in your property. When yoa make yonr
Will, therefore, be sure and remember the children of your great Benefactor.
Kemember those in the heathen world ; remember those in the waste places
in our own country ; remember the feeble Church in your vicinity ; remem-
ber that one, perhaps, where you were hopefully bom into the kingdom of
Christ ; and the one, perhaps, which you firstjomed. A little fund may be
of great service here, and your heavenly father, as one of your lawful
heirs, may expect to be remembered in the distribution of your property.
*' Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren,
ye have done it unto me." I charge you, my friend, in drawing yonr last
WilL remember all your lawful heirs. Bemember God ; his cause, his
people, his elect yet to be gathered in, his Church where your own name
may have been enrolled, and where, perhaps, it now stands. S.

SCEPTICISM NOT RATIONALISM.

We demur to the appropriateness of the title which they too often arro-
gate to themselves, of rationalists — meaning therebv men who depend for
their religious convictions upon the authority of reason. That is not
reason, in our sober estimate, which sets aside an immense body of facts
either by a speculative dogma, or by the utmost ingenuity of criticism.
The highest interests' of a man rest, surely, upon more tangible and solid
grounds than can be undermined by subtle intellectual theories, or frittered
away bv acute and learned criticism. The strong common sense of mankind
is usually more to be relied on than the most plausible ingenuities of
abstract thinkers, save where abstract thought cheerfully accepts as its basis
existing facts. Now, what is the alternative offered to our reason in the
present controversy ? We vnll suppose intellectual scepticism to have been
successful — to have disproved the possibility of miracles — to have demolished
the pretensions of a special revelation — and to have torn to shreds the
Scriptures which profess to have recorded one. Well ! but when that has
been done to the mllest satisfaction of reason, there will still remain upon
its hands some untoward facts to be got rid of. It will then appear that,
from age to age, human ingenuity contributed, but without concert, forged
materius to a common stock, and that each successive contribution was
accepted by the nation to whom it was presented, as divinely authorized.
It will appear that upwards of eighteen hundred years ago there existed a
a people exhibiting all the characteristics -fairlv ascribable to causes such as
those which their fictitious history pretenaed to describe— upeaking a
language, cherishing traditions, displaying a national idiosyncrasy, bound
to a ritualism, filled with expectations, just such as we might have antici-
pated had the sacred books they watched over with so much jeidousy been
truth igstead of romance. It will appear that when the old delusion might
well be supposed to be near its end, ready to be overrun by the more
rational and civilized notions of Home, a new pretender sprung up to give
a new turn to superstition — but that, disappointing by the spirituahty of his
views the political wishes of the people, he was speedily put to death as a
malefactor and blasphemer. It will appear that some few followers ot Mb
got up a still more egregious forgery than any of the preceding ones, bat

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Scepticism not Rationalism, 471

still grafted upon them — ^that, either, all uncongoionaly to themaelTeSy tbey
wove a tissue of falsehood whi(^ thejr managed themBelves to believe, and
to palm on the belief of others, or that, purposely and with marvellous craft,
thej invented a tale which thev afterwards laboured hard to promulgate,
and died to verify. And it will appear that out of this concatenation of
successive frauds, sprang the erandest, the most powerful, the most perma**
nent, and, even at this very aay, the most promising spiritual revolution
of which the world has been witness*<-a delineation of the most original
and perfect human character which imagination can conceive— an exhibition
of the purest, most elevated, and most spiritualizing views of Grod to which
man has ever yet attained — a morality which, if universally exemplified,
would make earth a paradise — and principles of heroism which have subse*-
quently produced the chief specimens of virtue, courage, love, and endurance,
to which humanity stiil looks up with admiring reverence. Is it not per-
plexing to our reason, is it not absolutely staggering, that out of this mast
of falsehood should have come this truthful result P Bo we see anything
resembling it elsewhere ? Do known analogies throw light upon it P Does
common experience confirm it P Nay, is it credible on any of the ordinaiy
grounds of belief P Nevertheless, this is the alternative which modem
Bcepticiam terms rational. Altogether, the case presents an amount of
intellectual and moral difficulty with which our reason essays in vain to
grapple. Disbelievers in Christianity, we should find ourselves involved in
a thicker and more impenetrable mystery than any which now envelopes us,
and should be compelled to accept more unaccountable conclusions, and on
infinitely slenderer evidence, than any in which we now rejoice. But this
we are certainly not prompted to by our reason. And if our philosophy
had brought us to this pass, or our critical sagacity had placed us in this
dilemma, we should be strongly tempted to suspect that we might be wrong
in our philosophy — we should begin to question whether our criticism was
sagacious, more especially if, after having rejected the Scripture narratives,
we should find ourselves obliged to throw away all other histories with
them.

But neither undisputed facts, nor recognised principles of philosophy, nor
sober and trustworthy criticism, impose upon us any such hard alternative
as we have just described. The religious movement which originated at
the death of Jesus, the principal phenomena of which tinge all subsequent
history, and the power of which is far from spent even to this day, is cer-
tainly most satisfactorily accounted for on the hypothesis that the impulse
was from God. Its rapid spread in the very teeth of Jewish prejudice and
Boman pride— the entire possession it gained over the minds of its earliest
adherents, and the unanimous zeal and fidelity with which they were con-
tent to ** die daily" in the labour of extending it, and, at last, to die literally
in attestation of their faith — the extent to which it has softened the rug-
gedness of human nature, and quickened a kindlier and more genial civili-
zation than Egypt, or Greece, or Home ever displayed in their palmiest
day s~ the amount and quality of spiritual life it has been the means of
begetting and sustaining — the fact, that it has invariably secured the largest
triamphs where intellect is best developed and most practical, and at epochs
when mind has been most awake — the power which it still successfully
exerts in reforming character, in stimulating high motives, and in minister-
ing the purest of pleasures, and the most effectual of consolations — and the
strong probabilities in favour of its eventually realizing its own pretensions,
and Incoming the one faith of the human family— these things constitute a
moral phenomenon without parallel in the world's history, and go far, very
far, to sustain the conclusion that, as it is evidently an important feature in
God*s providential designs, so it represents, as it purports to do, His char-
acter and will. So potent a spiritual force, unless traced up to a divine

Digitized by VjOOQIC

472 Remev) and Criticism,

origin, remains an inexplicable mystery— the grandest of effects discon-
nected from all probable cause. Aamit a revelation, and everything falls
into its proper place ; deny it, and the most important body of facts with
which history makes ns acquainted is thrown out of gear— cut off from
every assignable likelihood to account for it, from every conceivable end to
be accomplished by it. Here, then, we think, is one solid basis of reason-
able faith in Christianity— what it unquestionably has done, is doing, and
promises to do. Taking in the whole at one view, no consistent explanation
of it can be suggested, but that it comes from God. This is its own report
of itself; and, assuredly, a wide induction of relevant facts gives counte-
nance to the truth of that report. Collected and generalized, they yield as
but one conclusion ; and if, on other grounds, we are compelled to reject
that as inadmissible, they become to us instantly devoid of meaning. Need
we say that those other grounds ought to be strong indeed to justify our
reason in deciding against so many concurrent favouring appearances?
And if no such grounds of justification can be pointed out to us, nor made
good, are we not acting a rational part in accepting, in relation to the
undisputed facts of Christianity, as we do in relation to those of the physical
universe, the theory, suggested by themselves, which best tallies with and
explains them ? Thus far, it is plain, we apply to a religious inquiry the
same rule as we take for our guidance in any other. If any departure is
made from the path of sound philosophy, it is not by us who believe, bat by
those who commit themselves to doubt. — MiaWa Bases of Belief.

REVIEW AND CRITICISM.

A Catechism of Popery. By W. O'Neill. London : Waed and
Co., 27, Paternoster-row.

The Author, in the work before us, takes up the leading points in
the Popish Controversy, and urges against the faith of Rome the
popular arguments which have been used, with morB or less point,
ever since the time of the Protestant Reformation from Popery.
Mr. O'Neill wields those weapons with considerable skill, and the
juvenile reader who wishes, to become acquainted with the principal
arguments against the Romish Church, will here find them stated
with great plainness of speech, and brought into small compass. In
the present day, when the emissaries of Rome are insidiously labour-
ing to undermine all the great Protestant Institutions of the age, such
a work may be regarded as a very opportune production. We regard
it as entitled to a large share of public attention, especially on the
part of the young of both sexes. It is an excellent work for a
Sabbath-school Library.

The Primitive Pulpit. Vol. 11. London : Thos. King, Sutton-
street, Commercial-road. J. B. Cooke, 21, Warwick-lane.

This is a volume of Original Sermons and Sketches by varioas
Ministers in the Primitive Methodist Connexion. Those who have
an enlightened appreciation of the influence of Primitive Methodism

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Review and Criticism. 473

on the moral condition of this country will, we douht not, feel anxious
to examine the pages of this work, in order to an acquaintance with
the style of preaching adopted by many of the leading men in that
denomination. They will wish to avail themselves of the means,
thus afforded, of a better acquaintance with a style of popular Ad-
dresses to the lower classes, which has been so eminently owned by
the great Head of the Church. Without containing any sermons
from the most eminent Ministers of that Denomination, the volume
before ns may be taken as a fair sample of the preaching of a number
of men who have achieved deserved celebrity in that most useful sec-
tion of the Church. Some of the Sermons would not reflect discredit
on the most popular Preachers of the day. This work has our best
wishes.

Nelson's Essays on Divine Truth, First Series. London : Cokb,
No. 3, Albany-crescent, Old Kent-road. Hollidat, Sutton-street,
Commercial-road. Nottingham : Kirk and Sutton.

This is a collection of Essays on " Saving Truth " by the excellent
Author, whose name they bear. Mr. Nelson is favourably known to
the Public by a former work on the subject of the " Immortality of
the Soul." The present work more than sustains the reputation won
for its Author by that valuable publication. It abounds in passages
which our readers would peruse with both pleasure and profit. We
have only space for two or three citations, and they are taken from
his two tracts on "Eedemption by Christ." We begin with a

ON THS CROSS.

** When He left the throne He had his eye upon the Cross. The Cross
was to become the terror of his foes, and the rallying point and glory of
His friends. He desiffned to draw all men unto Him : but then He must
first be lifted up, and lifted upon the Cross. When he prayed amidst an
anguish in Gethsemane that mingled his blood with his sweat, and in such
profusion that it fell on the ground : when he prayed that the cup might
pass from him, he did not deprecate the Cross. He only prayed tnat the
cup, of which he so agonizingly drank, might, for the present pass away,
might, as it were, stand over till he came to the Cross. All was to meet
in the Cross : to be concentrated in the Cross. TherCf the heavy and
thundering demands of Sinai were to be met. There^ the curse was to
be sustained. There, heaven was to be propitiated. There, principalities
and powers were to be spoiled, were to be trampled over. T?iere, the sting
of death was to be extracted. There, the invaluable balm was to be
distilled, that should heal the moral and envenomed sores of millions.
There, a fountain was to be opened, the copious and overflowing streams
of which should make the foulest clean. There, were to be procured
blessings numerous as the wants of man, and lasting as the immortality
of his soul."

The next passage is —

ON TBS A00KIX8 07 OUR LORD*S DEATH.

*^ In these agonies he endured what none can describe: none conceive.
^^e, the last vial was poured out. Here, the long and gathering storm
collected and lowered, and thickened and burst. Mere, the agonizing cup
of trembling, which filled him with amazement, and wrunff his heart with
grief-— aliQost dissolved his soul in sorrow, and diverted his blood from

Digitized by VjOOQIC

474 Bemew and CriHeUm.

iti proper ooatse, and preaud it timnigli the pores of his body, mta drank
—all drank — drank toXhe very dregs ! And all nature seemed to solem-
nize the awful event ! And no wonder.*'

** The event was certainly the most sin^lar, if not the most awfol, that
will ever take place in the universe. The Son had ever been as in the
bosom of the lather, and had realized, in the highest degree, an miiiiter-
rupted sense of His infinite complacen^. What Christ therefore must
feel when it pleased the Father to braise him, minds like oms camiot
comprehend. It was in this that Christ had such a conscious manifests-
tion of the Divine hatred of sin as filled bis whc^ capacity for suffering,
and led to that solemn exclamation on the Cross, ' My G^ \ Mv God !
Why hast lliou forsaken me?' This involved a state of angoisa which
Uirew nearly all nature into convulsions. Why were the heavens
clothed in darkness ? Why was the sun shrouded as in sackcloth % Why
were the rocks in the neighbourhood rent asunder ? Why did the earth
heave and groan and quake % Why was the veil of the temple rent in
twain, from the top to the bottom ] Why ? I will tell you why. Becaoae
in that important nour, the most important that ever the sun measured
out to our world, the most marvellous in the history of our globe, the
Saviour died — died the just for the imjust, and the great propitiatory
uu&AMq was offered up for the human race. Then— •

" The ransom was paid, the fund of heaven,

Heaven's inexhaustible, exhausted fund.

Amazing and amazed poured forth the price,

All price beyond, though anxious to compute.

Arcnangels failed to cast the mighty sum.

Its value vast ungrasped by minds create.

For ever hides and glows in the Supreme.

And was the ransom paid ? It was ! And paid,

What can exalt the bounty more — for you ?

The sun beheld it. No, the shocking scene

Drove back his chariot, midnight veiled his face.

Not such as this : Not such as nature makes.

A midnight nature shuddered to behold.

A midnight new, a dread eclipse (without

Opposing spheres) from her Creator's firown.

Sun did'st thou fly thy Maker's pain ? or start

At that enormous load of human guilt,

Which bowed his blessed head, overwhelmed his Cross,

Made groan the centre, burst earth's marble womb,

With pangs, strange pangs, delivered of her dead 1

Hell howled ! and Heaven that hour let fall a tear !

Heaven wept that men might smile ! Heaven bled

That man might never die !"

We conclude with the following anecdote on Welsh Preaching,
which is better given than we remember to have seen it before.

ON WELSH FKEACHING.

Allow me here to introduce an anecdote which I read many years ago*
Though rather long I believe from its close relation to my subject, and the
glowing thoughts which it contains, it will not only be excused, but received
with pleasure and profit.

" On some religious occasion a number of ministers had assembled, in one
of our large towns in this kingdom, and they were invited, at the dose of
the business of the day, to spend the evening at the house of a Mend.
While there the conversation turned upon the best models of preaduogy

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Beview and Criticism, 475

which awakened considerable interest and engaged the attention of alL
After howeTer the conversation had been continued to some length, the
master of the house observed a Welsh stranger who, from its commence-
ment, had sat in silence ; and solicitous for the comfort of the whole of the
guests, he turned towards him, and said, ' Well, my friend, and what are
your views of the models of preaching P* To which the Welshman replied,

* Sir, when gentlemen like these are conversing, I deem it a privilege to
learn in silence ; but when thus asked a question, I feel it my duty to return
a plain answer. Were I, Sir, to give you my opinion of the best models of
preaching, I should say, that you have no ffood preachers in England.*
•No good preachers in England!' exclaimed his host, who was evidently
not a little surprised, ' no good preachers in England ! * ' No ;' resumed the
Welshman, ^ that is,' added he, ' I mean you have no such preachers as the
Welsh preachers are.' ^ That the Welsh people are famous for shouting
and jumping under sermons ; but I do not think that this arises so much
from the popularity of their preachers as the enthusiasm of the people ;'
—and then, added he, * If I were there, could not I make them jump, think
you ?* — • You make them jump P' exclaimed the Welshman, * you make them
jump ! Why, sir, a Welshman in preaching would fire the world while
you were lighting your match.'

This new torn of the conversation had an immediate effect upon all
present. Every eye, as if drawn by magnetic influence, was turned toward
the silent, nnobtrusiTe Welsh stranger ; and the company in general, as if
under one mental impulse, urged him to give them a specimen of this Welsh
preaching, in the praise of which he was so warm and so loud. But, said
he, do you understand the Welsh language ? Well, they replied, not so
perfectly as to follow you in a discourse. O then, said he, I cannot give
you a specimen. The English language is too poor, to convey the glowing
sentiments of a Welshman's mind; were I to dress them in English I
should quite spoil them. The company however became unceasingly
urgent, promised to make every allowance for the poverty of our language,
and matters had now gone so far, that nothing would suffice but a specimen
of Welsh preaching. Well, said the Welshman, if nothing else will do I
must try. He then became deeply thoughtful ; he mentioned the names of
some of their choicest preachers, which I cannot here repeat, and regretted
that he could not remember a passage from one of their sermons. He then
fell again into a musing posture, but in a little while his countenance
brightened, and he exclaimed, now I can give you a specimen.

I remember I once heard Chiistmas Evans preach at the visitation of
Ministers — Christmas Evans is a great Preacher. At the time to which
I now allude, he was speaking upon the fall of man, and his restoration
by Jesus Christ. ** Were I,'* said he, ** to represent to you the condition
of man as a sinner, and his restoration by Christ, I would do it in this
wise : — I would suppose a large grave-yard, encircled by a high wall^
having only one way out of it, and that way secured by a strong iron gate,

* In this grave-yard, said he, * 1 would suppose that there were thousands
and millions of human beings, all bending down beneath one epidemical
plague. The grave yawns to receive them, and die they must. There is
no balm of Gilead ; there is no physician there. There is no eye to pity
them, nor is there any arm to deliver them, * At this moment,' continued
he, * I would suppose a convoy of Angels, commissioned on some errand
of mercy to a distant world, to be passing over the grave-yard, and as
they passed, they paused to look, and heaven pardoned that pause. At
the same time, Mercy, infinite Mercy, descended towards Uie gate, stooped
down, looked in, and heaved a sigh. Ajid one of the Angels exclaimed,
' Mercy, Mercy, canst thou see, and canst thou not pity ? Canst thou
pity, and not enter ? Canst thou enter, and not relieve V And Mercy

Digitized by VjOOQlC

476 Thoughts on Art and Art Exhibitions.

replied, ' I can see, and I can pity,* bnt with team ahe added, ' I cannot
relieve, because Justice hath Darred the gate.'

About this time a celestial form appeared amidst the Angelic band,
who was like to the Son of God. The wide scene of misery was spread
before him, and quickly descending to the gate, he said to Justice, who
waited as if to keep all secure, * Unbar the gate.' But Justice said/ 1
cannot ; die these, or Justice must ; my truth is pledged ; my law is
broken ; my essential glory is involved ; the tone of my moral govern-
ment would be relaxed ; I cannot let them go free.' * Then,' said the Soa
of God, * What are thy demands on their account V And Justice said,
' My demands are stem and rigid. I must have poverty for their riches ;
ignominy for their honour ; pain for their pleasure ; labour for their rest;
wounds for their healing ; blood for their remission ; and death for their
life.' < Well, Well,' said the Son of God, 'I accept thy terms, on me be
the wrong, and let these go free.' But Justice said, * When Y And He
answered, * About four thousand years hence, upon the hill called Calvary,
I will pay thee all that thou demandest.'

Immediately a bond was drawn up, in the presence of Mercy and the
astonished Angels, which was signed by the Son of God. That boad
was handed down to the Patriarchs ; from them to the prophets, and
from them to the Kings of Israel, until Daniel's seventy weeks were
accomplished, the four thousand years were expired, and the time
for its being taken up was come. On that day, while Mercy in a soli-
tary mood was traversing Calvary, she met with Justice, who, holding the
bond, said, ' This is the time,' and referring to Calvary, said, ' This ia the
altar, where is the sacrifice V And Mercy said, ' See Him there, covered
with wounds, and sweat, and blood, and fainting beneath his cross, at the
bottom of the hilL' Mercy then retired to a distance from a scene so
overwhelmingly moving, but Justice met him, and presented him with
the bond. And did he deny it ? Did he reject it ? Did he shrink from itl
No! He acknowledged it; He took it! and he nailed it to his cross !
Justice immediately called for holy fire to come down and consume the
Sacrifice. The fire descended and consumed his humanity ! But, when it
touched his divinity it expired in a moment. And there was darkness
over the whole heavens ; but, it was glory to God in the highest, and on
earth, peace and goodwill to men. * This,' said the Welshman, ' is but A
specimen of our Welsh preaching.' "

The critical reader will find certain expressions in the above quota-
tions, to which some exception might possibly be taken, n some
instances there is a slight tendency towards a certain vastitude of
expression, which a severe judge will not exactly approve. But the
Essays, as a whole, are highly excellent productions. We cordially
recommend this able work to readers of every class.

THOUGHTS ON ART AND ART EXHIBITIONS.

ToTHB Editor,— DEAR Sir,

« Havk you been to the Manchester Exhibition 1" If joti have not bea
there, I, as a friend, would advise you— if this be not takmg too creata li-
berty with your editorial greatness, and you do not wish to be set down as a
man void of all relish for the beautiful and sublime— at once put on yoor
hat, seize your walking-stick, and hasten by Express train to Old Trafford,
Having entered the bmlding consecrated to genius and art» put your 8pe^

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Thoughts on Art and Art Exhibitions, 477

tades^if trnfortunately you require such appenda^e~on the part which
Nature evidently intends for them ; or, what will be more nishionable,
apply your eye-glass to the organ of vision ; and then take a glance at the
objects around you. *

Suspended, in every direction from the walls, you see the productions of
men of genius and mental cultivation, most of whom have passed away
from the dream-world in which they dwelt, to the realities of a state in
which intellectaal power and affluence are not admitted to be— as they
often are here — substitutes for moral excellence. Moving onward, in obe-
dience to the suggestions of your catalogue, in search of the <* Master-
pieces " of men who have painted for such immortality as this world can
give. You are brought into contact with various groups of individuals,
who influenced by taste, by curiosity, or by example, are contemplating,
with varied emotions, the scenes around them. Bambling about and
examining th^ multifarious objects of interest until your eyes are tired, if
not ^atis&dy with seeing, you will begin, if at all like your correspondent,
to moralize upon the scene.

Being a man — do not suspect that I intend to flatter you - of a some-
what benevolent character, a friend " of the masses," and, consequently,
favourable to everything which has a tendency to educate and elevate
them, you will, I am sure, be glad that there t« a Manchester Exhibition —
a collection of " Art Treasures " sufficiently attractive to draw Excur-
sion trains from most parts of the country, and conducted on such liberal
terms as to aflbrd the sons of toil a chance of coming within the charmed
circle, entrance to which has hitherto been almost exdusively the privilege
of the wealthy few. I dare say. Sir, you will agree with me in thinking it
a good sign for Old England, that the spirit of caste is gradually retiring,
and that, without being forced to it by an absurd and unrighteous social-
ism, the subjects of our gracious Queen can, in the departments of intellec-
tual culture, have, at least occasionally, '' all things in common.*'

Now, Mr. Editor, I humbly profess myself an admirer of all Exhibitions
which, while gratifying the senses, aim at the cultivation of the intellect
and heart. I admired, and by my shilling, current coin of the realm duly
paid at the door of entrance, patronized the Great Exhibition in Hyde
Park, London. I have also assisted, by a similar display of liberality, to
support the somewhat ricketty fortunes of the Crystal Palace at Syden-
ham— a Palace the fii^t sight of which, as it reflects from its glassy walls
and towers the beams of the glorious sun, reminds one of that city the
light of which is ^ like unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper stone,
clear as crystal ;" until the illusion is destroyed by the recollection that in
this Palace Britain's curse is sold, and that the proprietors are doing what
they can to turn it into a means of Sabbath desecration.. Nor, Sir, do I
slight the Exhibition which the magnates of Manchester have ''got up,**
and to which I have ventured to direct your attention. Such a collection
of the monuments of human genius does honour to all who have had a
share in bringing together the glorious aggregate, and can scarcely fail to
exercise a beneficial influence on the community.

After this candid confession of my predilections for works of genius, I
hope. Sir, that neither you nor your readers will deem me a Goth, or a
Vandal, because I cannot subscribe to all that is now said on the sub-
ject of Art. The public mind appears to me to be, every now and then,
thrown into fits of unreasoning enthusiasm in favour of various persons
and objects. A Shakespeare, for example, may be for a long period known
but to comparatively few, except by name ; but suddenly he is brought
forth from his obscurity; eulogised by lecturers, and quoted oy
grave divines, as though his works were almost, if not quite, equal
in authority on questions of morals to the Bible itself; until there

Digitized by VjOOQIC

478 Thoughts on Art and Art Exhibitions.

is quite a rage for '' dear Shakespeare ;" and " Sentimental Miases,"
thrown into a state of " extreme agitation" bj the perusal of their " Par-
lour Editions,'* place the " lovely volumes" under their pillows, and thea
retire to bed to aream about Romeo and Juliet, '* dark Qthello'* and Desde-
mona ; so, too, it is, to a great extent with Art. Sometimes it is despised,
and at others idolized. In the present day. Art is spoken of by some, as
though the knowledge of it '* were the one thing needful*' for human happi-
ness : and to such an extent has the admiration of it seized many mioda,
that to intimate that, after all, they may he something more yaluaUe
in itself, and more powerful as an educational influence on public morals
is to expose yourself to the smile of pity, or the laugh of nmniti^ted
scom^ But, Sir, I would say in tiie words of the well-known adage,
'* Let them laugh who win.** That man is but a sorry specimen of ho-
manitv^ and ill-fitted to act his part in the battle of life, who can be turned
from his convictions by the sneer of the self-conceited, or the laugh of the
anatic. Despite then Sir, what others may think and say, my conmtion
is that the power of Art to educate the taste, and refine the affectiooa is
vastly overrated. In listening to certain enthusiasts, did we not know io
the contrary, we might be led to suppose that the scenes and foniusbroaght
into being by the artist*s pencil, are moro to be admired than the glorious
realities spoken into existence by the word of creative power, of which
these are but feeble imitations. But, Sir, need I say that such individiials
are the victims of a wild delusion ? There is no scenery like that stretched
out before us, fresh and beautiful, as it comes from the hand of Qod; and
he must have a vitiated taste, who, while professing to admire the works of
men, does not often walk abroad *' into the varied field of nature,** and there
as he gazes upon its varied forms of loveliness and grandeur, " look through
nature up to nature's God.** The evidence of facts, stubborn £Eicts, Sir, proves
that there is no very intimate relation between the love of art and monl
purity. The GreeKs, by whom art was cultivated with extraordinary dili-
gence, and among whom it accomplished some of its mightiest resnlti^ were
not remarkable for moral elevation. I believe, Sir, also, that a« a e|a», the
devotees of art are not superior in morals to other portions of society. I
fancy, indeed, it would be rather difficult for any one to show what dose
connexion there is between the taste, by virtue of which, an indindnal
knows a beautiful painting, or a good piece of sculpture, when he sees it,
and a right state of the affections towards God and DQan. Equally difficolt,
too, would it be to define the process by which those voluptuous figures to be
seen at Sydenham and Old Trafibrd, are to subdue the depraved passions of
those who look upon them ; Art, if history, observation and experience are
to be relied on, to be successful in its mission as Educator of our pcwdation,
must be associated with religion, and regulated by its teachings. Withoat
religion, Art may pive an impetus to the intellect, or add fuel to the flaoo
of desire ; but it is only when combined with religion that it can rn-
lize the dimity of its vocation, as one of those educational forces which,
by their united action, are intended to make the human being intelkctnally
and morally, '^ a perfect man.** The extravagant eulogies pronounced br
some on men of genius who have distinguish^^ themselves in the walks of
art, naturally results from the erroneous estimate which they entertain of tli«
value of art itself. In a late number of the '' Eclectic Bieview," we bi^
a rich specimen of these. In the introductory remarks of an article os
" Michael Angelo and his Contemporaries,** the Beviewer thrown in^^
extasies by the theme on which he is about to expatiate, delivers hio^^"
after the following extraordinary fashion. ♦ ♦ • "So, too, in the warM
of mind, there are master spirits which have not only exercised >
mighty influence upon their own age and country, but have also defied the
.power of time, and are, even now, exerting over the human intellect &

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

Thoughts on Art and Art Exhibitions, 479

more extensile dominion than tJiat which they possessed over their own
oontemponnesb Among these —

''Dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule
Our spirits from their urns."

None deserre a loftier niche in the temple of &me, and few have had
greater influence upon succeeding ages than Michael Angelo Buonarroti.
These, Sir, you will admit with me, are high claims for our Beviewer to
present in behalf of his hero. Let us now see how he justifies them. " The
architect of St. FeterV ; the skilful engineer whose efforts almost saved
Florence in her last struggle for freedom ; the designer of the Cartoons
of Pisa, whose appearance marked an era in art; the painter of the
Sistioe Chapel, whence generation after generation of artists have
eince drawn inspiration ; the sculptor of the tomb of the Medici, and the
Maosoleam of Julius II. ; the author of many a graceful madrigal,
and thoughtful sonnet, the great Florentine possessed a comprehensiveness
and universality of genius» to which the whole of history can scarcely
famish a parallel, &c." Such, Sir, acccording t^ the testimony of our
Benewer, were the mighty achievements of Michael Angelo ; and,
having regard to which, he affirms concerning him :— '' None deserve a
loftier niche in the temple of fame, and few have had greater influence on
sncceeding ages." Far be it from me, Sir, to detract one iota from the
rightful fame of one endowed so richly, as the great painter undoubtedly
was, but when I find a writer in a Christian Keview placing him on a
level with the highest examples of sanctified genius, which have adorned
the Church and blessed the world, I cannot but dissent. If ^ none deserve
a loftier niche in the temple of fame " than he, then he must be at least
equal in merit to the most meritorious characters who have ever lived.
Such an estimate, Sir, of artistic power may correspond with the fashionable
jargon of the day, but it looks very strange when viewed in the light of
<!alni reason, and New Testament teaching. Fine painting, splendid archi-
tecture, magnificent mausoleums, graceful sonnets, and the liKe, may all be
good things in their places, and the man who produces them may fairly
pot in his claim for his meed of praise ; but that meed should be but a
small one when compared with the honours due to the memories of those
moral heroes who, in spite of opposition, and at the risk of suffering, aye,
even of death itself have, by their self-sacrificins spirit and burning
benevolenee« laboured to elevate and bless mankind. Such men as Paul,
Wlckliffe, Luther, Wesley, Whitfield, Howard, and others, the real philan-
throphists of our race» liave had ^^ an influence on succeeding ages," far
greater, both with regard to its value and extent, than Michael Angelo and
his entire class have ever exercised. This fact, Sir, must be so obvious to
all unprejudiced minds, that I wiU not trespass on your space by efforts to
establish my position. I would say, by all means, let men of genius be
honoured as they deserve, but let not mere genius be considered \& highest
form of human excellence ; rather let us follow with our warmest admi-
ration those sainted men, '* of whom the world was not worthy ;'' who in
their respective generations, nobly did battle for truth and righteousness,
and whose toils and sufferings will be found unto 'Upraise, and honour, and
glory," in that day when unsanctified intellect will oe of less service to its
possessors than ^'the small dust of l^e balance/* Then, <Hhey that be
wise shall shine as tlie brightness of the firmament, and they that turn
many to righteousness," — not they that have produced good paintings,
erected fine buildings, and composed graceful madrigals — '* as the stars K>r
ever aad ever."

But, Mr. Editor, I find, that in mercy to yourself and your readers, I
must stay the wanderings of my pen. Already has this letter far exceeded

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

480 The Voice of a Star.

the limits prescribed for it, and I therefore hasten to a conclusion, by
heartily wishing you success in your mission, as one of the teachers of the
age in which it is our happiness to live.

I remain, dear Sir,
_ _ _ . , ^ ^ , Yours affectionately,

Northwtch, September 4th, 1857. W. Rked.

THE VOICE OF A STAR

Childben of Mortality ! — Start not at the above annunciation ! Expect
not now to hear that triumphant voice which brake from my orb on the day
in which the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them;
when the morning stars sang together. Manyfold are the voices throogh
the medium of which I hold communion with the inhabitants of earth. I
have one voice to the pale student, wasting life by the midnight lamp ; an-
other to the wakeful mother, flitting round the couch of infancv ; and another
to the warrior, keeping watch in the moonlight camp. With how eentlea
voice have I spoken, when first in the train of evening, or last in the train
of night, I formed a bond of union to two kindred spirits, divided by inter-
vening oceans. Had I no voice speaking of immortality to the Grecian or
Roman sages, when those fine roirits, from whom your contemporaries
receive many a lesson, imperishable as the truth which it contains, under
their own apparently unassisted guidance, have well nigh stumbled on
things that might else have been supposed utterly nnapproachable by any
light but that of a revelation, which they had not received ?

I had no voice to answer the presumptnous inquiries into futurity, sent
up to me in former ages ; but that which was falsely imputed to me, was
the lying voice of man. I have a gay voice for the ear of in&ncy, a sober
one to the organs of age. I have a voice, — but no, — I perceive that the fol-
lowers of dissipation are surrounded by the deafening vortex of a whirlpool,
which renders them insensible to those still voices that proceed from the
silent creatures of God. The earliest curse on sin (however softened by
mercy) has also power of rendering obtuse, in those on whom it falls, the
finer organs of humanity ; among such as eat their bread in the sweat of
their brow, I have, consequently, a voice but rarely or indistinctly heard. I
had a voice bringing glad tidings to the wise men, when, led by me, they
came from the East to Jerusalem. I had a voice predictive of the de8tra^
tion of the hol^ city. I have a voice proclaiming my Creator, and a voice
preaching humility to man. It is not precisely in any of these voices that
I shall now address you ; yet it will be, I fear, but a weak voice, thoogli
issuing from a sphere so lofl^, and reaching to your humble earth.

It is probable that some of my listeners may expect a narration of things
.that I witness with my piercing eye, beyond the reach of their imperfiKt
organs ; some, the history of my birth-day — perhaps anterior to that of thii
green world. These are they who would be wise above their sphere:
though of these mysteries I may sin^ to a delighted audience of angels and
unfallen spirits, and though they who shall ** reign for ever when &e stars
expire '* may confidently expect to know what lies beyond the orbit of bob,
or moon, or stars, the sound of these things shall never reach their ear,
while they continue children of mortality ; of such, therefore, to them I
have no voice.

However, whether or not it were the day of my own nativity, as well u
that of the earth, which I joined in chorus to celebrate, at the season I hare
alluded to, — ^my beams silvered the bowers of Paradise. From my voice
primeval man listened to the hymn of adoration, and joined his own io

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Voice of a Star. 481

concert with mine, and with the sons of God. How clear, how sweet, how
solemn, were then the notes ?— still issued, but not heard by you, — ceaseless
as those which rise day and night before tiie throne of God ; which fell full
on the ear of unfallen man, and drew from his heart accordant echoes. No
jarring note disturbed the harmony of our united strains, which alike were
perfect praise. Together we moved on in our appointed course, to each a
path of glory, and each to the glory of God. But, shall I exult over the
dearly beloved offspring of the Most High ? I maintained my course, and
man swerved from his. My sphere was hio^h enough for me, since it was
that which, being found good by the infinite wisdom of my Creator, was
the highest I could receive. Man would rise by other means than those
which God appointed ; and he fell. There was the concert broken ; — the
voice of man, raised in opposition to mine, drowned its distant harmony.
It is since then I have spoken with as many voices as man had inclination,
or leisure, or power to hear.

Now, man seeks his own glory. Man raises the eye of envy to those
who are above him. Man fluctuates hither and thither, as the varying im-
pulse of appetite or passion impels him. I continue to offer all my glory at
the shrine of Him who invested me with it. While hundreds of generations
of the race of man have risen and fallen in succession, like the waves upon
the sea, I have revolved in the circle traced out for me by the finger of
Omnipotence in the depth of space, unswerving to the right hand or to
the left. When the curtains of darkness are drawn round the canopy of
heaven, I move at a respectful distance, attendant on the queen of night,
illustrate the tear of penitence, and glitter in the dewdrop ; but when the
hrd of day has harnessed his triumphal chariot, and he pours the all-
rejoicing beams of his countenance from the Eastern height, in humility I
retire from his presence, yet longing to catch a glimpse of him as I disap-
pear ; to see him clothed more abundantly than myself, in the gaiments of
his Maker's strength ; and to hear him proclaiming, in louder strains, the
goodness of the Being that created him.

I have glided with equal beams over the palace and the cottage, the
temple and the tomb. 1 have smiled on the nativity of monarchs, and I
have mingled my dimmed rays with the glare of the funeral torches. I
have sat behind the domes of imperial cities, and I am now howled to by
the wild beasts that couch in their desolate site. I have silvered the statues
of Athenian and Roman demi-gods ; and I shone on the walls of Troy. I,
^ho pass over the earth's innumerable multitudes, passed over it also, when
of human kind it contained none but the first pair, who, hand in hand,
wandered forth froni Eden, the parents of sin and sorrow. I shone on it
also, when the breath of God had dispersed the clouds ; and man and beast
had perished ; and it was a waste of waters, except where, within the com-
pass of one ark, were contained the righteous, and those preserved along
with him, to replenish the earth.

I saw the angels of God that ascended from and descended to the stony
pillow of the patriarch Jacob. I laughed upon the impious builders of the
tower of Babel, as they toiled on, circle lessening above circle, and thought
vainly, that it would reach my abode, while I beheld its very base a point
beneath me. I was witness to the nightly communings which the Son of
God, while on earth, held with his Father in heaven. I shone over Him
when he had not where to lay His head ; and I kissed with my beams the
sepulchre where the angels watched. I have also gazed with horror on the
desolations of war ; and having seen persecution lift his scourge, and light
^ torch, I am prepared to give evidence, when guilt shall be arraigned.

I have been consulted bv astrologers ; I have inspired the strains of the
poet; I have received the incense of idolaters \ and I have clothed the lan-
guage of almighty inspiration.

2 H

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

482 The Casket.

Now this is nothing more, — some intelligent listeners may perceiye it is
not so much,— this is nothing more than the voice that nightly issues &om
my scintillations, as often as, in the absence of the more glorioTis luminary,
even I walk in brightness. But, in consideration to the dulness of sense,
which is incident to the fallen cmldren of mortality, I have given it a more
mundane form, and request that when next the night shall have her cloudy
veil withdrawn, they will endeavour to hear it as it issues from my silent
orb. AsTEB.

THE CASKET.

nature's song in thb night.
Night hath its songs. Have you never stood by the sea side at night, and
heard the pebbles sing, and the waves chant God's glories 1 Or have yon
never risen from your couch, and thrown up the window of your chamber,
and listened there ? Listened to what ? Silence, save now and then a
murmuring sound, which seems sweet music then. And have you not fan-
cied that you hea^rd the harp of God playing in heaven ? Did you not
conceive that von stars, that those eyes of God, looking down on you, were
aJso mouths of song — that every star was singing God's glory, singing as it
shone, its mighty Maker, and His lawful, well-deserved praise 1 Night
hath its songs. We need not much poetry in our spirit to catch the song
of night, and hear the spheres as they chant praises which are loud to the
heart, though they be silent to the ear — the praises of the mighty God, who
bears up the unpillared arch of heaven, and moves the stars in their
courses. — Bev. C. H, Spurgem.

THB child's gratitude.

A little girl, both lame and blind, sat beneath the pleasant shade of a
tree one bright summer morning, listening to the song of the birds, which
were warblmg among the branches over her head. The zephyrs whispered
among the leaves, and played around her, fanning her brow, and bringing
a delicious coolness to her languid frame. And the clover blossoms and
violets lifted up their heads, and breathed an offering of sweet incense. She
sat upon the velvet sod in a thoughtful attitude, and the tear-drops glis-
t'Oned upon her pale cheeks. She wept, but her tears were not those of
sorrow and discontent ; they sprang from the fount of love and gratitude,
which was swelling up in her heart. And clasping her little hands and
raising her sightless eyes to heaven, she murmured, " Father^ I thank Thee
, that Thou hast made me the dear little birds to sin^ for me, and the sweet
flowers to perfume the air, and the cool breezes to fan my cheek. 0 dear,
good Father, how Thou hast blessed me !'*

The words were few and simple, but they were wafted to the courts of
heaven. They were heard, too, on earth, for they caught the ear of a gay
young maiden, who chanced to pass that way. She heard low, fervent
tones, and she paused and looked, and beheld a pale child, blind and
deformed, returning thanks unto the Lord for his mercies. Her heart was
touched, and her conscience reproached her. Blessings rich and innume-
rable had ever been showered upon her, but she had never experienced one
grateful emotion, nor returned one thank unto the Glorious Giver. She
stood rebuked before that afflicted child ; repentant tears flowed down her
cheeks, and kneeling down upon the sod, beneath the shade of the tree, she
lifted her heart unto God, and sought forgiveness. And in her youth and
beauty, she devoted her fife and health and wealth, and all she possessed,
to the cause of Christ. How much resulted from the simple gratitude of
that little afflicted chUd !

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket. 483

I'M ALMOST HOME.

A wanderer, weary and worn, covered with the dust of travel, and
suffering from many privations, sees in the distance the curling smoke
ascending from his homestead, and choked with feelings almost too hig for
utterance, exclaims, while tears of joy are rolling down his cheeks — Fm
almost home.

The playM child having wandered from its fond parents, tremhles for
fear of approaching danger as darkness gathers around its footsteps ; yet
as it sees some weU known object, shakes its curly locks and claps its glad
hands, exclaiming—*' Fm almost homer

The mariner, ^ter a long and toilsome journey, descries, in a far distance,
the outline coast of his native land, and sings aloud with joy, while his
heart is full to breaking — *' Fm almost home.

The Christian, after having fought many hard battles, buffeted many
hard storms, endured many trials, resisting many temptations, suffered
from many afflictions, and grieved over many shortcomings, feels gradually
approaching the hand of disease, and being admonished thereby of his
speedy dissolution, lifts his glad eye heavenward, while his heart melts
within him as he exclaims in triumph — ** Fm almost horned'*

Christian professor, thou, too, art almost home ! Art thou wearing this
world as a loose garment, so that it may be thrown off at a moment's
notice ) Are thy affections and desires fixed on things above ? And art
thou daily becoming more weaned from the things of time and sense 1 Or,
like thousands on every side, art thou taking thy rest here, and living as
though thou wert at home already 1 Be on thy guard — have thy lamp
trimmed and burning, for at midnight the cry mav sound in the ear — *' Be-
hold the bridegroom cometh ; go ye out to meet him."

THE BLIND BE0OAB*S BANK.

In one of my walks, I passed a blind man who sat by the wayside, with
a card on his hat saying, " Will you help a poor blind man V* I passed him,
but the word help had arrested my attention. I returned and dropped a
piece of money into his hand. I then asked him if he had any money in
the bank. He said, '' No," I asked him why he did not put some into the
bank. " Because," said he, " I cannot get it." " Is that the reason whv
you do not lay up a treasure in heaven T " I suppose not," said he. " It
may be the will of God that you should be blind and poor in this world —
but not in the next. There, He bids you to be rich. " Lay up for your-
selves treasures in heaven ;" this is His command to every one, and every
one can do it. For, '' Ask, and ye shall receive" is the promise of God.
You say you cannot lay up money in the bank ; but you can do a great
deal better ; and it will be your own fault if you are not a very rich man
in a few years. Won't you try for it 1" " Yes ; I will try," said the poor
man, struck with the novel idea that he might in another world be as well
off as anybody else ; and I passed on.

A few weeks after, I saw the same blind man, begging as before. I
dropped a penny in his hand, and asked him if he knew me. '* Yes," said
he. '* Who is it 1" " It was you that asked me if I had any money in the
bank." I asked him if he had laid up anything yet. He replied that he
had been trying ever since to do as I directed him, and hoped he should
succeed. I exhorted him to persevere, in full assurance that *' he that
asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth." I asked him if he could
get his wife to read him the first thirteen verses of the fifty-first Psalm,
every day, imtil he could repeat them himself. He said he would, and I
left him, hoping that he might yet see.

2 H 2^ f

Digitized by VjOOQIC

I

L

484 The Casket

•* NO NIGHT THERE."

Day and Night, with solemn greeting,

Unto me are still repeating,

<' Life is wasting, Time is fleeting,

For the end prepare !
Look beyond thy low condition,
Upward to the great transition,
To the land of open vision,

Night comes never there !"

May each nighty while slowly falling.

Be to me mine end recalling.

Lift my mind from Time's enthralling,

And my spirit bear
Thither where no sin distresses,
Where no fear nor gloom oppresses,
"Where the jsioul God's glory blesses.

For no night is there !

Lord! my light and my salvation,
Grant that in Thy habitation
With Thy saints may be my station.

In this bliss to share.
Onward still my steps be tending,
Upward still my thoughts ascending,
Tul I reach Thy rest unending,

Night comes never there!

VENQBANCE IS MINE.

It was the afternoon of a summer day, in the year 183 — , that a clerical
friend, on his way homeward, stopped at my house. I constramed him to
remain until the heat of the day snould be over, when he could porsae his
journey, and reach his destination early in the eveninff. While sitting to-
gether engaged in conversation, a heavy, dark cloud, highly charged with
electricity, as the sequel proved, arose in the south-west, and came directly
over our village ; very soon flash after flash of lightning, succeeded by loud
peals of thunder, almost interrupted our conversation ; while my little son,
startled amid his playfulness, crept to my knee, and throwing his anoB
around me, nestled in my bosom as for protection. (Blessed picture for
the contemplation of God's children, who can throw themselves into the
arms of Jesus, and nestle there in the hour of terror and dismay ! Bieased
thought ! that he, who then clung to me for safety, was, in aiter-life, led
to cling to Christ, as all his salvation ; to trust in Him, as all his strength ;
and has been brought safely home, where there are no thunderiogSy oo
lightnings, nor tempests.)

But, to return to my narrative,— an unusually vivid flash was Buoceeded
instantaneously by a peal which caused the house wherein we were eitting
to tremble. Almost immediately the cry of ** Fire !" was heard in the
street, accompanied by the ringing of the fire-bell of the village. My
friend and myself hastily equipped ourselves^ and went forth to render
assistance if needed. At a distance of but a few rods, we saw a crowd of
persons in front of a tenement which had been struck by lightning, asd
surrounding the body of a person, who had just been killed. Medical aid
had already been obtained, out efforts to resuscitate were unavailing.

We stood and looked at the victim. Although the crowd had gathered
in the public street, all was silent as the chamber of death. Ihe dark
cloud had passed over; the rain had ceased; the distant thunder had no

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket. 486

terrors,— but, it seemed as though a voice was heard, saying, " Be still, and
know that I am God !"

The name of the individual alluded to was P a. He had long been

known as the most profane and blasphemous person in our streets. In the
exercise of his impiety, it might well be said, that he *' feared not God,
neither regarded man. But he was cut down with an oath in his lips,
braving his Maker. I had it from one who participated in, and was most
deeply impressed with, the awfulness of the scene. As the black cloud
came over the village, accompanied by a strong wind, a gate at the end of
the house swung open, and a youn^ man (my informant above alluded to)

was sent out to close it. P a followed him to the door and stood there,

looking at the cloud. At that moment a flash of lightning and a heavy
report so startled the individual who was fastening the gate, that he ran in
front of the door, evidently much alarmed. " What are you afraid of r

said P a to him with an oath. The impious utterance was yet upon

his lips, when a second discharge from the doud summoned him in a mo^
ment before that awful tribunal, established for judgment by Him who has
said, '* For the Lord will not hold him guiltless, that taketh His nan>e in
vain."

He was dashed from the door-sill into the street, and never exhibited a
sign of life. The flash from that angry cloud, and the lurid flame of the
pit, would seem to have commingled to lighten his way to that place,
where —

" Darkness visible
Serves only to discover sights of woe,
Beffions of sorrow, dolefal shades, where peace
And rest can never dwell."

ASSURAKCB ASD HUldLITT.

When Thomas Hooker approached his end, ** he closed his eyes with his
own hands," as Cotton Matner narrates, ^ and, with a smile on his counte-
nance, gave a little groan, and so expired his blessed soul into the arms of
his fellow-servants, the holy angels, July 7, 1647.'* It appears that '' the
glorious peace of soul ** which marked his last moments, which an eye-
witness said gave him more pleasant thoughts of death than he had ever
had before, had been enjoyed by him without any interruption for nearly
thirty years. Yet there was no infusion of self-righteousness or fanaticism
in this life-long assurance of God's love. For when one who stood weep-
ing by his bedside said to him, ** Sir, you are goin^ to receive the reward
of all your labours," he replied, " Brother, lam going to receive mercy ^

THE JOURNEY OF LIFE.

Ten thousand human beings set forth together on their journey. After ten
years, one-third at least have disappeared. At the middle point of the com-
mon measure of life, but half are still upon the road. Faster and faster, as
the ranks grow thinner, they that remain till now become weary, and lie
down and rise no more. At threescore and ten, a band of some four hundred
yet struggle on. At ninety, these have been reduced to a handful of thirty
trembling patriarchs. Year after year, they fall in diminishing numbers.
One lingers, perhaps, a lonely marvel, till the century is over. We look
again, and the work of death is finished. — Bishop Burgess.

HEAKS OF SUCCESS.

There is much of instruction in the following brief statement. In the
present cry after able ministers, there is fear lest there be neglect of those
spiritual gifts without which learning, philosophy, and eloquence, are but
soundbg brass or tinkling cymbal : —

Digitized by VjOOQIC

486 The Casket.

Shepherd was mail j distingaiBhed for his success in preaching. When
on his death-bed, he said to some young miuisters who were present, "The
secret of my success is in these three things :

" 1. The studying of my sermons very frequently cost me tears.

'* 2. Before I preached a sermon to others I derived good from it myself^

** 3. I have always gone into the pulpit as if I were immediately after to
render an account to my Master.**

GOODNESS ITS OWK END. .

If thou wast to ask the Sun, ''Why shinest thou" he would say: ^i
must shine and cannot do otherwise, for it is my nature and proper^, bat
this my property, and the light I nve, is not of myself, and I do not caU it
mine." So likewise it is with God and Christ, and all who are godly and
belong unto God. In them is no willing, nor working, nor desiring, bat
has for its end, goodness as goodness, for the sake of goodness, and they
have no other wherefor than this.

SELF CONSECRATION.

It is never to be forgotten that true religion puts its stamp on the
individual man. Separating him from the mass, like the gold from the
ore, it impresses on his soul the image and superscription of Grod. Thus
sealed of^God, he is brought into personal communion with Jehovak
From this communion life flows, in a full, gushing stream upon his heart
and quickens the whole man. He has root in himself. On the diligent
cultivation of this root the beauty and vigour of piety depend. **^eep
your heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life." Each
Christian must receive this stamp ; in the mind of each the image of God
must be seen ; in the forehead of each the mark of the Lamb be written ;
and, in the heart of each, the spring, fed from the fountain, well up to
everlasting life.

Hence arise obligations common to all Christians alike— obligations per-
taining to their very condition, and inseparable from it. Every one, who
claims the Christian name, or breathes the vow of discipleship, is bound by
these obligations, and cannot break them off but by ceasing to be a
Christian.

. There must be in every case a personal consecration. How direct the
command— Follow thou me ! how marked the apostle's formula of disciple-
ship— giving first yourselves unto the Lord. The whole man, body and
spirit, must be laid on the altar ; every power and faculty be consecrated
to God. — Each disciple of himself makes for himself the offering. The
Jew of olden time devoted to the altar the choicest of his herd and of his
flock, but the Christian brings a nobler gift. ** Here, Lord, I give myself
away." How solemn the vow, " I am the LordV* — property, time, talents,
influence, all are comprised ; but why speak of these, when I myself am
no more my own, but devoted unreservedly to God. Consecrated by a
solemn vow, I can never cease to be a hallowed offering. My own heart
prompted the gift, my own lip breathed the vow, my own hand signed the
deed, and I gave, " 'twas all I had to give," myself unto God. " One shall
say, I am the Lord^s ; another shall call himself by the name of Jacob ;
and another shall subscribe with his hand unto the Lord, and surname
himself with the name of Israel."

Not the church alone is sacred, but each individual Christian thus
hallows himself. — The church is a collection of hallowed vessels ; on each
separately is inscribed, " Holiness to the Lord J* The church is a fflorioos
temple, built up of individual Christians, each fitted and polished by the
hand of the great Builder. " What 1 know ye not that your body is the
temple of the Holy Ghost, which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket. 487

not your own 1 For ye are bought with a price ; therefore glorify God in
your body, and in your spirit, which are God's.V

How far we fall short of this perfect consecration, and how easily we
excuse our imperfect service ! Yet God asks no more than He gives. To
each child He comes in the full affection of a heart large enough to embrace
them all, and but seeks a like measure in return. To each He comes the
perfect Saviour, and from each but asks the undivided heart, as freely
given to Him as He gave himself to suffering and death to purchase its
redemption. Have we so consecrated ourselves ] do we dally live as thus
dedicated — not our own, but God's ] How full of significant meaning the
question, am I the Lord's really, truly, unreservedly nis, now and forever 1
— Christian Mirror,

THE CROWN JEWEL.

" I wish," said cousin John, and then stopped. " Well, what do you wish
for ?" asked Taylor, looking up from his hook. " To be rich, to be sure,"
answered the lad ; " that is what almost every body is trying after. The
great talk in my father's court-room is about stocks, and per cent., what
people are worth, and all that sort of thing."

''It does seem as if rich people must be very happy," said Hannah.

" There is certainly nothing which people plav so great a stake for as
riches," said aunt Emily ; " but whether they mate people happy, is quite
another thing. I have just heard an interesting story on this pomt"

'' Oh, tell us a story, aunty," cried Hannah, and the rest of the children
echoed, " Do, do, aunty."

*^ Among the crown jewels of Kussia," said aunt Emily, " there is a mag-
nificent diamond of great value, almost the size and length of one's litde
finger. This diamond is called the Shah, and it has a curious history.
Once it belonged to a Persian king. This king was murdered by ms
soldiers, who divided his treasures among themselves. The Afghan, into
whose hand the diamond fell, left his country and came to Turkey, and
finally offered it for sale to a rich man in the city of Barossa. Shafras, for
that was the merchant's name, suspecting the man had not come honestly
by it, asked him to call again ; and, in the mean time, he told his two
brothers about this splendid jewel. But the Afghan never returned. As a
guilty conscience is full of fears, afraid of foul play, he secretly left the city,
and could nowhere be found.

''Some years afterwards, Sha^s met him in Bagdad, and he asked
about the diamond. It had been bought by a Jew. The Jew lived in
Bagdad. Shafras went to see him, and offered him twice as much for the
diamond as he gave for it. But the Jew would not part with it. Still
hankering after it, and determined to get it, Shafras and his two brothers
laid a plan to murder and rob the poor Jew. This they did ; and soon
after, quarrelling about the spoils, Shafras poisoned his two brothers and
got the whole. He went to Moscow, and sold it to Queen Katherine of
Russia for half a million dollars.

" Did this wicked man live to enjoy his money ? He was afterwards
murdered by a son-in-law who coveted his share of the property ; and the
whole was speedily squandered by his heirs, who are now living in beggary
in one of the cities of Russia."

"It is true, as the Bible says, * the love of money is the root of all evil,* "
said Hannah. " How many murders it committed here ! "

" Therefore Christ teaches us," said aunt Emily, "to lay up our treasures
in heaven, where neither riioth nor rust doth corrupt, and wnere thieves do
not break through nor steal ; for where our treasure is, there will our hearts
be also."

" Half a million dollars !' exclaimed cousin John ; " was not that a crown
jewel worth having."

Digitized by VjOOQlC

488 The Casket.

"Would you not rather have a whole crown P" asked aunt Emily.
''That joa can have mj dear child. Christ says, ' To him that overeometii,
I will give a crown of life.' Yours, to keep and wear for ever, ThicTes
cannot steal it, time cannot fade it, death cannot snatch you from it,&nd
Tou will never be tired of enjoying it." And aunt Emily prayed in her
heart that each of this dear circle of nephews and nieces might hate this
heavenly reward of every faithful follower of the Lord Jesus Christ. She
knew it was a great deal better than a world full of diamonds, and all else
beside. (

LIFE A NIGHT. j

The mellow lights that flushed the sky ^

At sunset are withdrawn, ;

This night will many a sleepless eye

Keep weary watch till dawn. I

What though ten thousand worlds may there

In radiant circles ran,
Night's brightest star may not compare

With Day's departed sun.
And time is but a night, soon gone,

A vigil kept by faith ;
Our life a tent we pitch till dawn.

Within the shade of death.
Earth darkens heaven to earthly eyes ; .

Its glories seem so far,
That Faith must wait till morning rise, I

To see them as they are.
Our way with mystery is beset, I

And God's so dark appears.
That oft we struggle in a net

Of unbelieving fears.
Yet, Lord, we see Thee in the cloud

Whose folds we lift in vain,
And Thou wilt yet remove the shroud,

And make Thy dealings plain.
With trustful hearts we may look up.

And, through the hours of night,
Cast forth the anchor of our hope,

And wish for morning light.

THE preacher's WORK.

A youthful painter was once directed by his master to complete a pictnre
on wnich the master had been obliged to suspend his labours on accoant of
his growing infirmities. "I commission thee, my son," said the sged
artist, '^ to do thy best upon this work. Do thy best^' The young man had
such reverence K>r his master's skill, that he felt incompetent to touch the
canvass which bore the work of that renowned hand. " Do thy best," wai
the old man's calm reply ; and again, to repeated solicitations, ne answered,
''Do thy best." The youth tremblingly seized the brush, and kneeling
before his appointed work, he prayed : *' It is for the sake of my beloved
master that I implore skill and power to do this deed." Then, with sup-
pressed emotion, he commenced his work, and he caught from it confidence
and inspiration. His hand grew steady as he painted. Slumbering genini
awoke in his eye. Enthusiasm took the place of fear. Forgetfulness of
himself supplanted his self-distrust, and with a calm joy he finished his
labour. The ** beloved master" was borne on his ooncn into the stodio^ to

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

Recent Death, 489

pass judgment on the result. As his eye fell on the triumph of art before
him, he burst into tears, and throwing his enfeebled arms around the young
artist, he exclaimed: ''My son, I paint no more !" That youth subse-
quently became the painter of " The Last Supper/' the ruins of which,
after the lapse of three hundred years, still attracts annually to the refec-
tory of an obscure convent in Milan hundreds of the worshippers of art. So
shall it be with a youthful preacher, who stands in awe of the work
to which his Master calls him. Let him give himself away to it as his
life's work, without reserve ; let him do his best. Let him kneel reverently
before his commission, and pray, "for the beloved Master's sake," that
power and s]|ill may be given him to do this deed. And the Spirit of that
Master shall breathe in the very greatness of the work. It shall strengthen
him. His hand shall grow firm, and his heart calm. His eye shall not
quail in the presence of kings. He shall stand undismayed before those
who in the kingdom of God are greater than they. Years of trust and of
tranquil expectation shall follow his early struggles; or, if emergencies
thicken as he advances, and one after another of those on whom his
spirit has leaned for support falls from his side, he shall be as the young
men who increase in strength. He shall learn to welcome great trials
of his character. With a holier joy than Nelson felt at Trafalgar, he shall
look up and say of every such crisis in his ministry, " I thank thee, O my
Qod ! that thou hast given me this great opportunity of doing my duty."-'
Prof, Phelps, in the Bihliotheca Sacra.

RECENT DEATHS.

The friends of the Connexion in all parts will receive with deep
regret the intelligence which we here subjoin. Mr. Joah Mallinson,
one of the most honest and straightforward friends of the principles
and institutions of the late Wesleyan Methodist Association, died on
Thursday, the 17th September, after a lingering illness, at bis bouse
in Moorville-terrace, Leeds, in the 75th year of his age. Peace to
his memory, and may God raise up in the United Methodist Fl^ee
Churches many men of like unswerving integrity.

Died, on the 15th of Febiuary, 1857, Jane Heywood of Heywood. For
seventy-four years she toiled, sorrowed, and rejoiced on the earth, and
iQV Jifty-eight she was a consistent, devout, and worthy member of the
Church of Christ. " An Israelite, indeed, in whom there was no guile."
Her piety was of that quiet and unobtrusive kind, more felt than seen.
She was the mother of a numerous family, and most fervently did she
and her faithful partner pray, " That our sons may be as plants grown
up in their youth ; that our daughters may be as corner-stones, polished
after the similitude of a palace." She wrought in secret, and God rewarded
her openly, for she lived to see the whole of her family united with the
Church, and some of them elevated to the high places of the sanctuary.
Her lot through life was cast among the lowly poor, and many and bitter
were the privations to which she was subject, but she ever cultivated a
cheerful piety, and in times of greatest darkness and sorrow could sing^
" The Lord will provide.'* For many years previous to her death she
dwelt at peace, in the affection and honour of her children. They took
delight in ministering to the quiet and comfort of an aged father and
mother, and their many deeds of kindness and love shall not be forgot-
ten at " the resurrection of the just." She died full of peace and hope.
^l The righteous shall flourish like the palm-tree : he shall grow like a cedar
in Lebanon. Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish
in the courts of our God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age ;

Digitized

by Google

490 Rdigiotu JnieUigenee,

they shall he fat and floarishin^; to show that the Lord la npririit He
is my rock, and there is no nnnghteonsness in hinu" S. S. B.

Died, on the 18th day of Augast, 1857, William Draper, of Heptonatall,
parish of Halifax, in the seTenty-seventh year of his age. He had been
a consistent memher of Society more than sixty-one years, adorning the
doctrine of God, his Saviour, in idl things. He left the Wesleyan
Conference Connexion, and united with the expelled brethren who formed
the Methodist Association in the Todmorden Circuit at its commence-
ment, and continued a steady memher of our Socie^ till he exchange
mortality for life, and was caught away to the joy of his Lord.

His afflictions were protracted. His heart trusted in the at^ing Lamb,
and reposed on the love and faithfulness of God his Saviour, aia end was
peace. He hath entered into rest, met again his long lost partner, the
mother of his children, and joined the company of the ransomed ones,
where each one walketh in his uprightness. J. Edgib.

RELIGIOUS INTEIiLIGENCE.
LIVERPOOL UNITED METHODIST FREE CHURCHES.

Departure of the Bev, William Middleton and the Bev, James Saiifer as Mignonariet

to Australia.

One of the most interesting tea-meetings that has been held in this Circuit,
for some time past, took place on Tuesday evening, August 24th, in Bossell-
street Chapel school-room, which originated with the double object in view of
welcoming our respected and talented minister, the Rev. John Peters to the
scene of his labours, after an absence of 17 years ; and of taking a long fare-
well of, and giving a parting blessing to the Rev. W. Middleton, and the Rev.
J. Sayer, who are going out as missionaries to Australia.

After tea, Mr. K. Thorp, as senior steward, affectionately alluded to tbe
former labours of the Rev. John Peters whilst in this circuit, and congratu-
lated him on his return, after so long an absence, and after so many and such
great changes.

On taking the chair, Mr. Peters dwelt upon many pleasing associations con-
nected with his former labours, and remarked that many circumstances had so
strangely conspired, that he could not but regard it as a providential arrange-
ment that he had been brought again to Liverpool ; and he took it as an indi-
cation that God had gracious purposes concerning them. They were nott
however, to. raise their expectations too high, and suppose that the lapse
of years had not wasted the vigour of his manhood, ana subdued the fire of
his energy. Still be trusted God would build them up in their most holj
faith, and he be made to them a faithful pastor. In pointed yet affectionate
language be inculcated the necessity of brotherly love and mutual forbearance
amongst the office-bearers of the church. Of course they could not always
see eye to eye, and think with the same heart ; yet, where differences of
opinion existed in reference to the internal management of our churches, let
no man be so dogmatic as to contend for the whole of his own way, but let
there rather be, if possible, an incorporation of the two sentiments, and out of
it would come a harmonious whole. He referred to the amalgamation of tbe
Wesleyan Association and the Wesleyan Reformers as a pleasing and impor-
tant illustration of what might be accomplished when this spirit prevailed,
and he had no doubt that the strength acc^uired by that union would bnng
. glory to God, be felt to the utmost limits of the world, and have an important
bearing on eternity itself. Turning to the missionaries, he said he experieDced
the strongest emotions on their behalf. The personal knowledge he had of
them commanded his warmest affection, whilst tne important mission on which
tlie^^ were eoing awakened the strongest sympathies of all who loved the
Saviour, and he wished them God speed. 6c sure, he continued, that you

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Religiom Intelligence. 491

communicate to us as often as you possibly can. Send us your journal* let us
know the particulars of your reception, the state of the cause there, and the
prospects that open out before you. We have perhaps, as a body, to complain
of the scantiness of our information on our missionary enterprises, and many
of our ministers feel a delicacy, in conseouence, to stand before an audience
to advocate the missionary cause ; and there cannot be a doubt, but what it
has had a prejudicial effect on the ways and means. Let this no more exist.
Rest assured that, if you will write to us often, I will as often take your letters
for my text to bring them before the people, and I am certam that the
interest thus aroused will have a beneficial tendency on all our missionary
stations.

The Rev. W. Middleton, on rising, said, that from the first time he made
known his determination to go to Australia until that hour— the eve of his
departure — he had met with such repeated and such strong manifestations of
sympathy, affection and regard, that he could never, whilst memory lasted,
forget them. He felt grateful that, in the Providence of God, he had been
permitted to attend tne assembly lately held at Rochdale. It was a con-
summation hie had devoutly wished and prayed for, and -he should ever dwell
with rapture upon the warm, frank, and Christian conduct, the ofiices of
brotherly kindness, and the generous and gentlemanly bearing of the delegates
of the two bodies ; and that which had warmed his heart, would cheer those to
whom he shiould communicate it in the distant land to which he was going.
And I go, moreover, he continued, with a profound veneration for our institu-
tions and church polity, which I believe to be the nearest approach yet made
to the New Testament churches, where all was freedom, love, and concord.

The Rev. J. Sayer, in the course of a most feeling address, said, I am the son
of pious parents. My father was converted by hearing a sermon by a mis«
sionary in Madras, and that circumstance always created in his breast an abid-
ing interest for the missionary cause. Scarcely, was I a month old when mv
pious parents, betwixt themselves, solemnly dedicated me to the Lord. All
my early impressions bore that import, and, as I grew up, the dying desires of
my father seemed on the approach of realization. But a series of circum-
stances intervened, and I at last determined to " tarry at Jerusalem'* until the
Holy Spirit opened up my path. The day has now fully come, and I leave
with my respected brother m connection with a church that has shown us the
greatest kindness and regard. I shall ever endeavour to promote her welfare,
and implore the aid of the strong right arm of the God of Israel on all her efforts.

, The Rev. Anthony Gilbert from Manchester, strongly ursed also the neces-
sity of a frequent and full coiTespondence, and he hoped that the societies at
home and in Australia would appoint missionary corresponding secretaries.
Were such the case, now with the strength and zeal acquired by the late
amalgamation, the scene which they witnessed at that time would be of more
frequent occurrence, and we should be enabled, not only to comply with the
demands of Australia, who asked for twenty missionaries, but we should also
be able to send to other parts of the hemisphere where hitherto we had no
interests.

Pleasing and pointed addresses were also delivered by Mr. John Harlev and
Mr. Blakey, from Rochdale ; by the Rev. Mr. Buck, of the Seamen's Bethel
Union; Dr. Burrows, Mr. J. Russell, and Mr. R« Lloyd; and, after singing the
Doxology, the Rev. John Peters, with great power and earnestness, prated for
tbe welfare of the two Missionaries, that they might prove a blessing in the
ship in which diey were about to sail, and to the land of their destination ;
and all the people said " Amen."

At 8 o'clock the following morning, the two missionaries had to embark on
board of the * David G. Fleming,' of the Mersey line of packets. The Rev. J.
Peters, Rev. A. Gilbert. Rev. Mr. Buck, Dr. Burrows, Messrs. R. Lloyd, J.
Looney, G. Holt, and otner friends went down to see them off, and many of
the friends accompanied them on board. Very high satisfaction was ex-
pressed on finding that, through the liberality of the Connexional Committee,
first class berths had been engaged, which, besides the comfort and blessing
they would prove to their young families, would also at once give them that

Digitized by VjOOQIC

492 JReligioui IntMigmce.

social position on board which comported with their high and holj calling.
The Rev. Mr. Buck carried with him large bundles of tracts and pamphlets
for distribution amongst the passengers on board ; and Mr. Home, of Man-
chester, the Connezional Treasurer, who also came down to Liverpool to bid
the Missionaries farewell, brought with him a large box of Bibles and Testa-
ments for the same purpose. Several members of society, both from Roch-
dale and Cornwall, sailed in the same ship, and there was every prospect of a
pleasant passage and agreeable company. The ship cleared out on Wednes-
day, and sailed down the river at noon with a favourable breeze.

TAVISTOCK.

We have just held our Sabbath*school anniversary, under the most hopeful
and encouraging circumstances. At the last anniversary we had occatioo to
report a sad decrease, but during the last twelve months the number of our
scholars has been nearly doubled. On Sunday, September 6th, 1857, tbiee
■ermons were preached by our new Minister, Rev. £. D. Greeu, when the
collections amounted to nearly double the usual sum, and more than has ever
been realised by us at any previous school anniversary.

In the evening, our Chapel was completely full ; and what was better than
all, we found several souls in distress, and angels had cause to rejoice in lalra-
tion coming to Zion. This, we hope, is the beginning of brighter and better
days. On the following day we took the children a short distance from the
town» and there, upon an open down, thev were regaled with their acenatomed
treat of nuts, cake, and tea. At five o'clock the teachers and frienda saiem-
bled for tea, in the Schoolroom beneath the Chapel, when we had the largest
company to tea that we have ever seen in the place. A public meeting vaa
afterwards held, presided over by Mr. Reynolds. The meeting was then
addressed by Messrs. Hawke, Denty, Wevill, Horswill, and £. D. Green, and
the interesting meeting broke up highly gratified with the whole of the
services.

Some of us have long felt the desirability of having a married preacher ia
the Circuit, but the difiiculty has been our inability to provide a preacher'i
houae. With reference to the former, we have just succeeded in inviting Mr.
Green to labour amongat ut, and now we are endeavouring, according to our
means, to furnish a house. This will give us a better and more important
position in the Connexion, and one that becomes a circuit which is one of the
oldest in the Association. We have commenced our Connexional year in thii
circuit, with bright and hopeful prospects, and we are praying that a mighty
revival may soon break out in our midst

BURY.

On Saturday evening, the 15th August, the members and friends of the
"Brunswick Wesleyan Association Young Men's Mutual Improvement So-
ciety*' held a tea-meeting in a room adjoining their Chapel. After tea, Daniel
Smith, Esq., was called to the chair, and business of an interesting character
was proceeded with. The Secretary, in behalf of the class, presented the Rev.
J. Peters, President of the Society, Dr. Cumming*s edition of " Barnes' Notes
on the New Testament," along with the following address —

"to THB HEV JOHN FETBRS.

"The Members of the Mutual Improvement Society, in Connexion with the
Wesleyaii Association Chapel, North-street, Bury, take the present as a suite-
ble occasion of returning their thanks to their Rev. President, for his care and
fidelity in watching over the interests of the Class during the past two years,
and of expressing their sincere regret at his removal. It has been widii pleasure
and profit that they have met from week to week to study the word of God,
to hear it expounded, and to converse upon such subjects as were deemed
suitable. They have ever deprecated the idea of their class degenerating into
a frivolous evening's amusement ; and, aided by their President, whoae object
ithas evidently been to avoid anything like cavil, sarcasm, or cant,xlu«
determined principle has been maintained. The many lessons they have
learnt, and the instruction they have received, are, it is hoped, destined to tell

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Religious IfUelUgenee, 493

on their temporal and eternal interests and prepare them for that high office—
the training of the succeedinjj; veneration — ^and to benefit themselves throuj[h
life. They cannot take their leave of you, Sir, without acknowledging, m
some humble way, the obligation whicn your valuable services lay them
under ; and} under the simple guise of honest concealment, they have,
by voluntary subscription, purchased eleven volumes, forming a complete
edition of Dr. Cumming's ' Barnes* Notes on the New Testament,' and nope
you will receive them simply as the gift of the class. It is hoped that the
worth of the gift may by no means be measured by the value or cost, but that
It may be received as a simple tribute of that respect and esteem which, as a
Society, they are in duty bound to acknowledge.

" We are ftdly aware. Sir, that they cannot be intended as a reward for
your labours ; that we leave to Him who, in his providential government, saw
fit to place over us such an experienced teacher and guide, for whom we
numbly pray the richest blessings of the Almighty. May God spread over
you the peaceful canopy of His presence, give you he^th on earth, and,
finally, happiness in His eternal resting place."

After this the Rev. J. Peters made a most affectionate reply, which evidently
moved the feelings of all present, expressing his pleasure, whilst acting as
President, and his pain at the thoughts of separation. The reply was followed
by speeches from the members and friends of the class, who encouraged each
other to prosecute, with renewed vigour, the good work in which they were
•ngaged.

After the usual compliments to the Chairman, &c., this pleasant meeting
terminated.

John "WwanT.
HEYWOOD.
The members and friends of our Connexion here, desirous of showing
their esteem for our late respected Minister, the Rev. Wm. Beckett, on the
occasion of his leaving this Circuit to resume his duties at Grosvenor-street,
held a farewell tea-meeting on Monday evening, the 10th instant, when two
hundred and seventy persons sat down to tea, and was further increased to
four hundred on the commencement of the meeting.

The meeting, which was opened by singing and prayer, was i^resided over
by Mr. Josh. Glazebrook, who made a few remarks detailing his connection
snd sympathy with our late Minister, and concluded with an earnest prayer
that he might be eminently successful in his new sphere of labour.

The Chairman called on Messrs. Heywood, Cropper, Cheetham, and Holt,
vnen each speaker occupied a few minutes, and expressed themselves in a
manner highly complimentary to Mr. Beckett, after which Mr. Edward Ash-
worth, a local preacner, was called on to make a presentation, and on rising
laid, that he had attended many meetings of this character, which had been
painful to his feelings, but he could not express the feelings he had on this
occasion. He spoke of the strong attacnment between himself and Mr.
Beckett, and of his successful labours in the districts of the Heywood circuit,
where he bad generally accompanied him. He concluded by saying that it
raTorded him great pleasure in being the humble instrument throuen whom
the friends had chosen to make a present of the neat purse he held in his
hand, containing five guineas, to Mr. Beckett, as a token of their respect and
esteem.

Mr. Meadowcroft rose and said, that he had great pleasure in presenting to

Mr* Beckett two first-class volumes, with this inscription written on eacn-~

Presented to the Rev. Wm. Beckett, by the Members and Friends of the

Wesleyan Association, as a token of their esteem for his services during his

residence in Heywood."

Mr. Beckett said that he could not find words to express his feelings for
the kindness shown to him ; but said, every time he saw those presents they
Would remind him of the kindness he had always received at Heywood.

Mr. Frankland, from Middleton, said that Mr. Beckett was quite a favourite
JJth them, and none more sincerely prayed for his future success than the
friends at Middleton.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

494 Religious Intelligence,

After a few words from Messrs. Heywood, Mills, and Howartli,tbe meeting
was brought to a close. The interest in the meeting was so unanimous that
there was scarcely any left until the conclusion, about half-past ten o'clocL
The meeting closed by singing the Doxology.

A Leader.
SCARBOROUGH.

The Annual Services on behalf of the Trust Fund of our Chapel have been
held as follows :— On Lord's-day, September 6th, 1857, Sermons were preached,
morning and evening, by the Rev. W. Dawson of Leeds, and in the afternoon
by the resident Minister. Brother Dawson also preached on the foUowbg
evening. The.sermons of our friend were appropriate to the occasion ana
strictlv evangelical ; they were heard with great attention, and, we trust, will
bear miit to the glory of the blessed God. We are thankful to say the col-
lections are £1 more than those of last year. May the Holy spirit copioosly
descend on the United Methodist Free Churches, and this Se a year of great
prosperity to our Connexion. Amen.

C. R. HOFPER.

OLDHAM CIRCUIT.

On Monday, the 27th of July, the friends of the Oldham Society met in
the School-room for the purpose of presenting the Rev. A. Wolfenden, who
was about to leave the Circuit for another sphere of labour, with a beautiful

fold chain, as a token of their esteem and love, and as an acknowledgment of
is zealous and devoted labours during the three years he has been amongst
them.

On Tuesday (the day following) the friends of the HoUingwood Society also
met for the purpose of presenting him with a copv of " Reach's Key to Open
Scripture Metaphors." together with " Adam Clarke's Sermons," in three vols,
all beautifully bouna in grained calf, and containing the following inscrip-
tion— " Presented to the Rev. A. Wolfenden, by the Teachers, Scholars, and
Friends of the Wesleyan Methodist Association Sunday School, Hollingwood.
a token of regard and esteem for his valuable labours during the three yean
he has been amongst them as Minister. — July 28, 1857."

Mr. Wolfenden has laboured in the Oldham Circuit now for three yean,
with great acceptance, during which time there has been an increase throng'
out the Circuit of about one-fifth.

Saml* Tongue, Jvk.

LEEDS CIRCUIT.

Bethesda Chapel, Woodhouse. — A few months ago the Lord moved cer-
tain brethren connected with the above chapel to devise means for its enlarge-
ment, there being several families requiring pews, which, together with the
anticipated amalgamation (now happily consummated) rendered it ahsolatelr
requisite to provide better accommodation both in the chapel and school-
room, as well as to secure vestries for the classes. We are nappy to infom
the friends of the United Churches that these desirable objects have now been
fully realized, and the chapel now thus enlarged was re-opened on Sundaji
June 2l8t, when sermons were preached in the morning and evening by the
Rev. Joseph Kirsop, of North Shields; and in the afternoon by the Rev. R.
Brickwooa, of Leeds.

On Monday, June 22nd, a public tea-meeting was held in the cbapel, wlien
the chair was taken by F. A. Payn, Esq., and addresses were delivered fay the
Revs. W. Dawson, Joseph Kirsop, Edward Brown, and Messrs. Heeles, J. W.
Petty, F. Green, J. Watson, J. H. Carr, H. Fletcher, and oUier friends.

On Sunday, June 28th, sermons were preached by the Rev. W. Dawson,
the Rev. C. Bailache (Baptist minister), and the Rev. J. H. Morgan (Indepen-
dent minister); the entire services proved verv satisfactory to the frienda,
and the amount realised bv subscriptions and collections is 162/. 128. l^d. ; the
balance required for the alterations and new furniture for the school is esti-
mated at about 110/. lb raise this sum a Bazaar is in course of preparation
by the ladies, and any article suitable for that purpose will be very thankfully
received by the Secretaries, Sisters Chucklock and Mawson.

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

Religious Intelligence. 495

DOWNHAM.

UNITED METHODIST FREE CHURCHES.

On Sunday, September 6th, Anniversary Sermons were preached in the
Temperance Hall, by the Rev. Mr. Baxter, ex-President of the Annual As-
sembly (from London), to crowded audiences. The sermons were of a supe-
rior character, and the collections nearly double those of last year.

On Wednesday, September 9th, a harvest-home meeting was held in the
Hall, when nearly two hundred sat down to tea. Messrs. Bennett, sen. and
jun., ^ave their workmen (fifty-eight in number^ their tea, gratis ; and it was
truly interesting to witness the mutual good-feeling which prevailed through-
out the meeting. A public meeting was held in the evemng ; the hall was
crowded. Mr. J. Flatman was elected to the chair ; and addresses were deli-
vered by Messrs. Bennett, sen., Oliver, Bennett, jun., Wame, and Lallam.
The thought which prevailed in the addresses was, '^ The goodness of God
demands the gratitude of man," and the meeting was pronoimced to be the
crowning harvest-home meeting of the last seventeen years.

NORTH AND SOUTH SHIELDS CIRCUIT.
On Tuesday, the 8ch of September, a public tea-meeting was held in
Queen-street Chapel, to celeorate the Cennexional Amalgamation of
the Weslevan Methodist Association, and the Wesleyan Reformers.
At five o clock a goodly number of friends partook of the social
cup. The trays were gratuitously provided and presided over by the ladies
of the Society. The proceeds of the tea will be appropriated to the Circuit
Fund. Tea being over, Mr. Councillor Armstrong was called to preside over
the public meeting. Mr. Armstrong is a tried and estimable friend to the
cause of Christ. In opening the meeting he delivered a speech very apposite
to the occasion. He commenced by analyzing the designation of the United
Churches, eulogising their polity and speaking of the mighty influence they
were destined to exert on the religious- world, and the grand results they were
certain to accomplish.

He dwelt with considerable feeling and effect on the mutual advantages
wliich both bodies would derive from the union, and expressed a hope that 3ie
example set by the Reformers in the north would be followed by theur brethren
in the south, east, and west.

His speech was rich in thought, elegant in diction, impressive in its delivery,
and telling in its effect. Having given an intellectual, enthusiastic, and
TeligiouB tone of feeling to the meeting, he resumed his seat amidst the hearty
applause of the entire audience.

The Rev. E. Darke, of Sunderland, was then introduced to the meeting,
who, in a style peculiar to himself, delivered a lengthy, but terse and excellent
speech. In the course of his remarks he referred to the objections which had
been raised to the union of the two bodies by those who were unfavourable to
the amalgamation, the generous and frank manner in which those objections
bad been met by the members of the Special Committee, and the happy result
of so much intelligence, piety, and influence being blended toj^ether.

The Rev. Mr. Hirst, of Newcastle, then addressed the meeting. He spoke
of the advancing character of the times, the thirst of men after intellectual
acquirements, the splendid discoveries which are being made in our Halls of
Science, and the rapid improvements which are being made in the fine and
useful arts.

He then enforced upon the United Churches the importance of possessing
the affgressive element, so that they might make a powerful ana effectual
attack on the strongholds of vice and crime. In his concluding remarks he
shewed with admirable perspicuity the meanS to be adopted to secure a healthy
and prosperous Church.

The Rev. A. Keene, of Sunderland, next addressed the meeting. His speech
was short, but to the point. There was a depth of religious feeling in it which
we were all constrained to admire; and the earnestness with which it was
delivered told well on the audience. It flowed like a limpid stream from a

Digitized by VjOOQIC

496 Religious InteWgenee.

perennial fountain. His remarks chiefly related to the indispensable neces-
sity of all our Churches heing baptized with the renewing and transforming
unction of the Holy One.

Mr. Councillor Green was then called upon to give a condensed account of
the late Annual Assembly. He gave a very lucid account of the most impor-
tant proceedings of the Assembly, then expressed his unqualified approval of
those doings, and contrasted our freely chosen representative system withtb«
ministerial conclave sitting in a large town in an adjoining county. He spoke
in glowing, but unexagserated, terms of the religious services u connection
with the Assembly, and said it was heart-cheering to worship with s people
whose hearts were imbued with a feeling of deep and earnest piety. He
expressed his high apprecistion of the intelligence, piety, zeal, and hospitality
of the Rochdale friends. He also referred to the Missionary enterprise in
connection with the United Churches, expressed a hope that we shall soon
have some stations where the elevating power of the Gospel has never been
felt, and urged the members and friends to contribute liberally to that fand,
in order that the Shields Circuit might, in every respect, be a model Circuit,
under the presidency of Mr. Chew. His concluding remarks will not soon be
forgotten. He spoke with great fervour and power on the necessity of realiz-
ing, in all our Circuits, the converting power of God.

Mr. Hands was then called upon to address the meeting. He spoke upon
the superiority of the present age to every preceding age, and exhorted the
Church to keep pace with the march of intellect, science, and art. He
referred to the value and advantages of civil and ecclesiastical freedom, and
concluded his observations by showing that secular freedom would be valua-
ble only in proportion as it bore on the mind and tended to its liberation,
strengtn, and glory.

The Rev. R. Chew was then called upon, as one of the Representatives of the
Circuit to the late Assembly. Mr. Chew, in his own clear, precise, and com-
prehensive way, gave a very pleasing and satisfactory account of the proceed-
ings of the Assemcly. He spoke of the kindly feeling which characterized
the representatives generally, and of the manifest disposition there was on the
part of the representatives of both bodies^to compromise any difference of
opinion which existed between them (if that difference did not affect the
vital interests of their respective Churches), so that the consummation of the
Union might be effectual without any further delay.

The Rev. M. Rowe (Independent) made a few remarks expressive of his
svmpathy with us in the struggle in which we had been engaged, and hoped
tne union would be lastingly beneficial.

Several other Ministers of the town were present at the meeting. After
the usual vote of thanks to the Ladies, moved by the Rev. Mr. Bowe, and
seconded by Mr. Thomas Arthur, the benediction was pronounced snd the
meeting separated.

We hope the influence felt at that meeting will be of long duration, and
that it will tend to cement us together more and more.

Arthux Hands.

SWANSEA CIRCUIT.

On Sunday the 13th September, the Anniversary of the Bellevue-street
and Green hill Sunday-schools was celebrated, when two sermons were
preachf^d in the United Methodist Free Church, by the Rev. John Baron. jD
the afternoon of the same day, instructive and effective addresses were deji'
vered to the parents by the Rev. F. W. Bourne, Bible ChristiaiT; and to the
teachers and scholars by Mr. W. Clement, Mumbles. The children of thj
Sabbath-schools sang with considerable credit, hymns which had been selected
and printed for the occasion.

We were highly favoured in having a fine day : a gracious influence wm
felt to pervade the services, and it is earnestly hoped that the effective dis-
courses of the day will tell upon the future experience and conduct of those
who had the pleasure of listening to them. ,

The congregations and collection were in advance of those of last year »
Anniversary.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

THE

WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE.

NOVEMBER, 1867.

UNITED METHODIST FREE CHURCHES' MISSIONS.

Thbrb are many questions of great fmportance to the interests of
societjy mooted in this age of mental activity ; hut they are all so
little in comparison of that of Missions, that it may be called the
Question/ and must remain the Question, until aU the forms of error
shall have been utterly destroyed, and Truth and Righteousness
maintain undivided empire over the Hearts and Consciences of
mankind.

Impressed with these views in relation to the great Question of
the age, it is to us a congenial employment to invite the attention
of all our readers to the subject of Missionary operations in con-
nection with the <* United Methodist Free Churches/*

During the past year the Committee, besides bestowing such atten-
tion as they could on the old fields of labour, in connection with the
late We8£<etak Methodist Association, have succeeded in making
arrangements for sending two additional Missionaries to occupy new
scenes of enterprize in Australia. The beloved brethren, Sayer
and Middleton, who have long laboured with acceptance in this Island,
have been set apart to the Missionary work in that quarter of the
Crlobe. They sailed for their destination in the month of August
last, and wiU, we trust, when this shall meet the public eye, have
commenced their labours amongst the Colonists and Aborigines of
that rising country, which is now, justly, regarded as the America
of the Southern Hemisphere.

Professor Miller, in his luminous work on the << Philosophy of
History," regards the chief value of this Hemisphere, in our terres-
trial economy, to consist in the flow of waters which it supplies to
the Northern regions of the Globe. Whatever may be fact in this
^pect, our Missionaries, and those of kindred Societies, are, it is
believed, destined, under God, to make the Australian portion of
It, morally to perform an important part in the evangelization of
those great countries in the East, whose Southern boundaries closely
approach it, as in the case of India and China; or run into it, as
in the case of Southern and Central Africa, and those countries of
South America, which are withering under the blight of superstition,
from the Isthmus of Panama to the Cape of Storms. We are per-
suaded, that if the mother country watch over the spiritual wants
of the British race in our Australian colonies, the Missionary bre-
thren there will ere long be in a condition to exert a blessed influence

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

498 Our MUsiofu,

on the surrounding nations. Thej will thns fulfil what appears to
be the purpose of Providence with respect to our Rule both at home
and abroad. God has not conferred upon us our vast capabilities
for good without a gracious purpose in relation to the less favoured
races. We have not been made to enjoy so l^ge a share in the
general stock of human knowledge — He has not caused the common
intellect of the Race to be carried to so high a degree in varied
culture that it is capable of transfusing the Word of Life into nearly
all the languages spoken bj man — ^He has not brought under the
sceptre of this great country scores of subject nations — He has not
set causes into operation which must, in a brief period, make the
Engli ih language the most extensively spoken tongue in the whole
earth — He has not made this country the moral centre of the modern
world, as Judea was of the ancient, without intending that the capa-
bilities and the resources of our Race, both in the Mother Country
and the Colonies, should be laid under contribution for the pro-
motion of the great interests of man, wherever he is within reach
of our philanthropy. Already one of the branches of the national
^tock, in the United States of America, has entered largely into
enterprises of general benevolence. Their Missionary Institutions
rival those of the parent Race.' They have made an impression
both in Europe and Central Asia. Almost in every region visited
by the English Missionary, his ardour is inflamed and his sympathies
strengthened by the emulation of the American brethren. What
has been done by the British stock in America may hh repeated on a
lai^r scale by the younger members of the family in Anstralasia.
Let us attend to these Colonies at the Antipodes, and we shall, ere
long, find them sending forth their instrumentalities to the banks of
the Indus and the Ganges, and establishing their Mission Stations
at Canton and Amoy; at Shanghai, Ningpo, and Fou-chou^fou, as
well as at Hong Kong and in the other Islands of the Chinese sea.

Seldom have Missionaries entered upon scenes of labour where,
under God, their efforts might be expected to exert so mighty an
influence, direct and. indirect, on the destinies of mankind. The
Missionaries already sent forth to that land have succeeded to an
extent which the most sanguine hardly could have expected. But
this, instead of lulling to sleep the activities of the Churdi at
home, should supply a stimulus to increased effort. It is related of
Napoleon, that, though greatly elated with his extraordinary success
on the field of Marengo, he determined to se^, by future deeds of
skill and daring, to secure for himself a niche in the "Pantheon of
History." " Well," said he, " a few more great events like those of
this campaign, and I may really descend to posterity; but still
it is little enough. I have conquered, it is true, in less than two
years, Cairo, Paris, Milan ; but were I to die to-morrow, a half page
of general history would, afler ten centuries, be all that would be
devoted to my exploits." Now, our readers may have no admiration
of the general character of this illustrious man; — ^they may feel the
utmost abhorrence of those deeds of glory which he madly achieved
amid the shouts of battle and the shock of arms j— they may b«

Digitized

by Google,

Our Missions. 499

deeply .persuaded that It had been vastly better for Cairo, Paris,
Milan, and for the world at large, if the conqueror of Marengo had
never existed to keep our Gallic neighbours alive with lustre and
with noise. We join in these views and feelings. We execrate,
as deeply as any, the atrocities which he perpetrated in the name
of France and of Glory. But we admire the stupenduous ene^gx
with which he prosecuted all the objects to which -his life was de*
voted. Like the first great Ceesar, he regarded nothing as being
done, so long as anything remained undone. This must be our
maxim. We must devote ourselves to earnest and enterprising effort.
If the United METnoDiaT Fbee Churches would have a name in
the general History of the Chubgh, they must zealously prosecute
great undertakings. Without this, the Denomination would exist in
vain. It would, indeed, be a ridiculous abortion, asserting the rigbt3
of brotherhood and claiming the designation of ^' Churches,'' whilst
it is wholly destitute of the Christian ardour which is equally indis-
pensable to the healthiness of the Church at home, and the extension
of it in foreign lands. Effort, then, dauntless effort, is morally the
condition of our existence as Churches. The greatest of our Naval
Heroes once conveyed to his brethren in arms, the soul-stirring in-
telligence that "England expects every Man to do his Duty !"
And history records how their courage mounted to Heroism the mo-
ment they had received it. We would adopt the memorable example
of this ilhistrious man. We would summon, in Christ's name, every
individual in this fellowship of Churches, formed ynder such happy
auspices, to do his duty in this enterprise of universal benevolence.
It was thus that the early Christians acted. Jt was thus that the first
Missionaries of the Cross went forth. No difficulties daunted them !
No sacrifices were too great for their burning charity divine ! Hear
the great Apostle of the Gentiles, whose words should find an echo
in the heart of every Christian — "Behold, I go bound in the 9pirit
to Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there, save
that the Holy Ghost witnesseth in every city, saying that bonds and
afflictions abide me. But none of these things move me, neither
count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my cour^
with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesus,
to testify the Gospel of the grace of God." Acts xx. 22—24. We
IQ&7 not, like the Apostle, be called to seal a Christiaa's testimony to
the truth with a martyr's blood ; but we, like him, must be disposed
Wtually to present ourselves, our efforts, and our means on the
altar of Christian service.

Such acts would shed a holy light

On Mammon's gloomiest cells,
As on some city's cheerless night,

The tide of sunshine swells —
Till tower and dome and bridge- way proud
Are mantled with the golden cloud ;
And to wise hearts this certain hope is given,
No mist that man can raise shall hide the eye of Heaven.

Iii another quarter of the world, — we allude to Jamaica, in the
West Ikdibs, our Missionaries are labouring with exemplary devotion

?)iSit^d by Google

500 Our Missions*

among the blaek and the coloured population in various parte of the
Island. A new Station has been opened at Annotto Bay during the
past year, and an additional Native Agent employed in the Mission
field. It is one of the most pleasing facts connected with our West
Indian Missions, that with a single exception, in the case of Claren-
don, they are all worked by Native agency. This is of great advan-
tage in every way. In a tropical clime tike that, the life of a Native
is of milch greater value than that of a European. Besides, he is of
much less cost to the Society. He is not to be sent out from the
mother country at a heavy expense, in the shape of outfit and passage
money. The Native agent is found on the spot. But the remote
advantages to the cause of Missions in this case, we believe will be
vastly greater than the immediate, Africa must soon become one of
the main theatres of Missionary labour. In order to the vigorous
prosecution of the work in that hot clime, it seems indispensable that
we should combine with European effort that of Christian instru-
mentalities raised up from among the Churches in the West In-
dies. The sympathies of these men are more perfectly in unison with
the African heart than those of Europeans can be expected generallj
to be. And having been born and bred up under a tropical sun, they
will be able to bear ctimates in Africa which would involve speedy
death to the European. If Providence should open our way to the
establishment of a Mission in Africa, we have little doubt that Ja-
maica would, ere long, contribute valuably to the enlargement of the
instrumentalities^avaUable for such an enterprize. And the discoveries
of Livingston in Afirica must have the efiect of drawing the attention
of British Churches towards that interesting theatre for Christian
effort. He has brought news from the interior of that great country
which must impress the Christians of this land with the conviction
that the African races there, are peculiarly accessible to the efforts of
Missionaries sent from this land. Britain is known among them as
the black man's friend. The slave-trade on the Western coast is va-
nishing before the spirit of legitimate commerce. From Angola, a
Portuguese settlement, many of the Negroes brought down for sale,
but not carried off by the slave ship — fix)m the vigilance of our
cruisers and other causes, — are taken back to the interior and em-
ployed in raising the valuable and varied products of the country.
Wars of conflicting tribes, as a necessary consequence, are much less
frequent than formerly : the slave-trade is spoken of as being little
more than a tradition of the past. Everything betokens the arrival
of the set time to favour this much neglected and down-trodden land.
The manufactures and commercial men of this Island may do some-
thing to benefit Africa by introducing her productions into the
markets of the world. But the Christian Missionary is the grand
agent, under God, on whom we must rely for the entire regeneration
of the African race. The Missionary has done more, in modem
times, for the civilization of barbarous nations, than all other agents
combined. It was the Missionary, who first brought Barotonga,
Mauke, and Mitiaro beneath the eye of civilized man. It vras the
Missionary, who lifted up the veil which had concealed Central

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Our Missions. 501

Africa from our view from the dawn of history down to the middle
of the iS'ineteenth Century, It was' the Missionary, who moved the
Red man of the wilderness to construct the dwellings of Nonanetum
and the villages of Zeisberger. It was the Missionary, who raised
the Esquimaux from the most bruta.1 barbarism, localised the roving
Bosjesman, and recovered the New Zealander from Cannibalism, in
one of its most revolting forms. The Missionary is precisely the man
who is ^most wanted for the civilization and humanization of those
extensive regions which Livingston has lately brought under the eye
of the Christian nations of £urope and America. He is the man
to supply the barbarian with , the first specimen of his written lan-
guage; to reduce his jargon to grammatical rules; to collect his
Tocables into a Dictionary ; to initiate him — ^by the introduction of
the Art of Printing, — into the mystery of preserving and diffusing his
thoughts by means of the Press. The Missionary who, in addition to
all his other achievements, has saved savage countries, as in the case
of the Sandwich and the South Sea Islands, from depopulation, and
who was, moreover, the main instrument in procuring the African
Bill of Bights, at the Cape, and Negro Emancipation, some years
later, in ^e West Indies ; — ^the Missionary, whose career has been
signalized bj such triumphs, is the kind of instrumetit impera-
tively demanded for the moral elevation of Africa. Let British
Christians enter heartily into this work. Let them, while pro-
moting civilization, remember that their great object is the Evange^
lization of the Heathen ; and we may hope soon to behold poor,
afflicted Africa, " stretching forth her hand unto God."

Of the various Churches in this country, few are more favour-
ably circumstanced than our own. Our resources are rapidly
increasing, and the last Assembly gave specific directions for the
extension of our fields of labour— especially among the Heathen.
Our connection with the West Indies cannot fail to supply us with
some important facilities for the prosecution of Missionary enterprises
in Africa i and this is not only a strong motive to induce effort in
behalf of the Heathen in Central Africa, but also to send out, with
the least possible delay, an additional Missionary to the West Indies,
to assist in disciplining the native talent of brethren in our Mission
Churphes in Jamaica, for the putting forth of Christian effort in be-
half of their father-land. It is the privilege of the Christian Church
to promote in this unhappy country the development of a civilization,
vastly more benign in its influence than the Greeks or the Romans
could have bestowed in the days of their glory ; a civilization not
artistic and cold, like that of Athens and of ancient Rome, but human-
ized like that of England and America, by the doctrine of the Cross
and the Spirit of Christ. The Christian Missionary will disclose to
their view a model of Virtue, more exalted by far, than the noblest
characters of classic literature, — a God, distinguished by all the attri-
butes of infinite perfection, and infinitely more glorious than all the
gods which the imagination of the ancients sketched on the page of
their wonder-stirring Mythologies, or crowded into that Pantheon
iipon which the praise of ages has been lavished ;— a sacrificial Vic-
Digitized by VjOOQIC

502 Our Missions,

tim, and a Temple in comparison of which, the sacrifices and tem-
ples of Egypt and of Greece, were as insignificant as a wood doU,
when compared with the living form of man, or the humblest mud
cottage in the Island with the Crystal Palace, crowded with monu-
ments of all ages and productions of all climes !

I BEL AND, is another interesting scene of enterprize to the United
METHObisT Free Chubches. This is the least prosperous and
the most degraded part of the United Kingdom, which has long
been known as the strongholds of Popery, and a very Maelstrom
of political excitement. Much speculation, we are aware, has
been indulged as to the true secret of Ireland's social and political
degradation. Some persons assuming that certain races df men are
made to be ruled over by others, and that such races are utterly
incapable of appreciating or enjoying rational liberty, have sought
the secret of Ireland's wretchedness in the Celtic origin of the great
majority of her people, and concluded that there will be in Ire-
land neither practical liberty nor national prosperity, until the Celt
is as scarce a commodity there as he is in Great Britain. There are
others who trace the difficulty of maintaining social order in Ireland,
to those ministers of the Romish Church who have, for ages, exerted
80 powerful an influence in the formation of the Celtic character.
And lastly, the social and political degradation of Ireland has been
attributed by many persons to the reign of Demagogueism over a large
portion of the people. Now, without being at all inclined, like
some of our Celtic friends, to claim for the Celtic race, that every
warrior " from Alexander the Great to Smith O'Brien — every poet,
from -ffischylus to Martin Tupper — and every statesman, from William
Pitt to William Duffy, had a greater or less quantity of Celtic blood
in his veins," we cannot but think that little or nothing of Irish de-
gradation is attributable to the Celtic origin of the great bulk of the
Irish nation. We cannot forget that Curran, Grattan, and Moore,
were Irishmen, and that the Celtic sympathies by which the genius of
these men was nurtured, did not render them incapable of liberty.
Neither are we disposed to ascribe so much as some have done, of
Ireland's woe to the reign of Demagogues in that excitable coun-
try. We believe those Demag6gues to have been, for the most part
utterly unprincipled, — that often they pursued their vocation with
an energy, worthy of higher objects. They put the misguided
Celt through a training, which, in our estimation, was equally
stupid and mischievous. While their Celtic dupes sat cowering over
their turf fire, or shivering in rags, filth, and want, at their cabin
door, cursing the Queen, the Lords, the Commons, and the Saxon
hogs, on the other side of the Channel ; they were in the language
of these Demagogues, " the finest peasantry in the world." When
perpetrating their Agrarian outrages on life and property, they
were mounting to the climax of heroism and putting in an emphatic
protest against the base, the brutal, and the bloody dominion of those
execrable wretches, — the Anglo-Saxons. When they were prac-
tising with the sword, the pike, the reaping-hook, and the musket, in
hitting penny-piebes at fifty paces distance, they were preparing to

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Our Missions. 508

strike a decisive blow for Irish Independence, All this was bad
enough, frightful enough in appearance, but it ended in nothing,
except the burning in effigj of John Mitchell, the contingent Presi*
dent of the Celtic Republic and the breaking in of a door, by the
Moral force men where some hundreds of the Physical force patriots,
with a few ladies assembled, as the leading Journal of that day stated)
^^ to drink Tea and denounce the base, the brutal, and the bloody
Whigs. Stones were thrown in great plenty — some shots were fired^
which happily did no mischief." The physical force party were scat*
tered — ^the ladies screamed — ^the Hero of the scene sought refuge in a
Cabbage-garden, and that was the culminating point of Demagogue*
ism in Ireland. It left << Ireland in want of an Epic poet, not to sing
Achilles' wrath but the battle of the Frogs and Mice." Since then
the vocation of the Demagc^ue has passed away, and the Emerald
Isle is as little infested with Uiat noxious creature as even England.

We believe, that whatever evils may have resulted from Dema*
gogueism in Ireland, that the larger portion of Ireland's woes is
chai^eable on the Romish priesthood in that country. For y^ho does
not know that the Demagogues of Ireland could never have done
their work if the priesta had done their duty ? Demagogueism in
1848 would have been as powerless in Ireland as it was found to
be in this coimtry about the same time, if the Romish priests there,
had not laboured for ages to prevent the development of the Irish
mind ; or rather, if those priests themselves had not been slaves of a
system, which holds that man is devout in proportion as he is stupid ;
that he most nearly approaches the seraph in the ardour of his affec-
tions, when he is most closely allied to the brute in the stupidity of
his intellect As in Spain — ^in France — in Austria, and in Italy, so
in Ireland, Catholicism is the curse of the land — ^the incubus that
.presses with mortal weight on the people. Let any one who is
inclined to doubt, look at the contrast between the North of Ireland,
where the Protestant religion prevails, and the other parts of that
beautiful Jsle, where the people are banded over a prey to the igno-
rance, superstition, and intolerance, which ever follow in the train of
Roman Catholicism, and he will doubt no limger.

It is clear therefore that the publication x)f Evangelical truth is tiie
great desideratum for tiie elevation of Ireland. For this we must
look to the Churches of this Protestant country. And this object
will not be accomplished without a general combination of efibrt»
Mission stations must be opened. Missionaries must be sent forth
vigorously to maintain the war against moral and ecclesiastical
Despotism in that unhappy country. We are glad to report that the
esteemed brother who last year occupied the Mission station at Car-
rickfergus, has laboured with acceptance and success. The congrega-
tions have greatly improved, and the people of that struggling intei^est
are at length confidently looking for better days.

In North Wales, the beloved agents of the Methodist Free
Churches are zealously prosecuting their labours among the Welsh
people. At comparatively small cost, they are performing a huge
amount (tf work, in the interest of the commoa cause.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

504 Our Missions.

And now, ^'liat shall we say in relation to the numerous Hohk
Mission Stations in various parts of England? At first sight it
may seem an unnecessary expenditure of our funds to support Mis-
sionaries among the people of this highly-favoured country; huts
little reflection will soon dispel the illusion. When our readers reflect
on the worse than Mohammedan darkness which, with respect to moral
distinctions, rests on the minds of thousands — ^the entire devotement
of the bulk of the people to the gratification of the senses as the most
desirable form of enjoyment, and of great numbers of the mercantile
class to money-making, as the great end of existence ; when you ob-
serve the strange insensibility of the great majority of the people to
moral and religious truth — ^their ignorance of evangelical religion
combined with the neglect of all the means of spiritual im^rovement-
the profligacy which prevails among large numbers of the one sex,
and the intemperance and kindred vices which brutalize still larger
numbers of the other, you will, it is presumed, concur with us in
regarding the moral condition of millions in this land of Bihles, as
being deeply to be deplored. In this Metropolis, which has been
well named ^^ the Great Babylon," there exists a Vagrant class almost
as numerous as the entire population of Jamaica, and much more de-
graded, in a moral point of view, than the bulk of the people in that
Island. Prostitution, and almost every kind of vice prevail on a
gigantic scale. What we behold in the Metropolis is the same, only
on a somewhat larger scale, that is witnessed in most of the large
provincial towns. Small is the number of those who have fdt
the power of saving truth-^— ^r^e the number who, like the Romans
in the time of the Apostle Paul, live " without God in the world.'
We have therefore a British Heathendom in the immediate ndgli-
bourhood of our own dwellings. Now the souls of the Heathen at
Home are not less precious than those of the Heathen Abhoad. They
are not less properly objects of Christian sympathy. It must not be
forgotten that when the risen-Saviour instructed the disciples on their
way to Emmaus, as to — ^How they should carry out their great Mis-
sion of Mercy to mankind. He said, '' Thus it is written, and thos it
behoved Christ to sufier, and to rise again on the third day, that re-
pentance and remission of sins should be preached in His name vimg
all nations, beginning at Jerusalem." Hoke Missions and FobRG'
Missions belong to the same scheme of Divine operation* These
Jewish disciples whom Christ sent forth as Apostles, '^ to preach re-
pentance and remission of sins among all nations, were to bepiiii
Jerusalem." They were to begin at Home. Here is a rule that wc
shall do well to observe. While sympathizing most deeply with tb«
woes of the Heathen in India, in China, and in Central Africa, we
must not overlook the Heathep at Home, but seek them out in their
cottages — ^in their places of public resort, and even, in thdr deosof
infamy.

Lord Shaftesbury said on a public occasion, not long ago, with
respect to his own estimate and that of Sir Richard Maps as to the
value of preaching as the means for the moral elevation of the masses
in this country^ that^^-**^^ More credit has been given me in ^

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

Our Misnons* 405

matter than I deserve, I simply stated the subject of Mr. Newman
Hall's letter to Sir B. Mayne, who at once replied, that as chief'
Minister of Police, he should take care that on no account should
such efforts be impeded, for he knew nothing more likely to beneUt
the great masses of the people, than for ministers of religion to go out
of doors to preach to those who did not otherwise listen to the
Gospel ; for my own part (continued his Lordship), I am persuaded
that open-air preaching is one of the very best methods of doing good at
the present day. It is sanctioned by all precedent and authority — ^It
carries us back to the example of the Apostles, and to the teaching of
the Lord Jesus Christ. I hope that as yet the practice is but in its
infancy amongst us, and that it will soon become part and parcel of
every ecclesiastical system.** There is hope for the couijtry when
the leading men in it thus unequivocally recognise the importance of
the Gospel Ministry for the renovaffon of the outcast population.

And now, in conclusion, permit us to observe that the Home and
Foreign Stations must be equally dear to us : they must equally com-
mand our ardent sjrmpathies-— our benevolent support and our fer-
vent prayers. Nor should there be any limit to our support of either^
except such as may be imposed by the want of means. We must
illustrate the spirit of Christian manliness by combined action in a
great Cause. We, to borrow the noble sentiments of the Rev. Mr.
Stoughton, — expressed on a similar occasion, have to build up a
community of Churches which may prove a strong citadel for
liberty, a normal school for Christian civilization, while it lasts a
pure temple for the worship of the Hofy One. We, my brethren,
are builders if and what we rear is not for ourselves. '* The palace is
not for man, but for the Lord God." When the Florentines built their
wonderful cathedral, a decree was issued by the republic declaring
that they would carry forth their idea into performance, commensurate
with the grandeur of a soul composed of the minds of the whole
community, united and resolved into one common will and purpose.
That conception, so grandly expressed, typifies and prefigures the
spiritually architectural enterprize to which we are called in this
crisis of the ages. — A soul composed of the minds of the whole
community, united and resolved into one common will and purpose —
that is what we want. The quarry-men dug the marble, the masons
squared the blocks, and laid them one upon another in lines of contrast
and harmony, and sculptors carved and painters coloured ; artificers
in ''brass and iron" wrought and polished; and cunning workmen
uid embroiderers in blue, and in purple, and in scarlet, and in fine
linen, plied theit toils ; and one was not jealous of another, but all
wrought with a single will and purpose. So must we work, " each
one according to his separate ability." There must be no discord, no
envy, no strife for mastership, and no strike for disafiection ; but love
and wisdom must weld all in one. Working so, we shall build in
beauty, strength, and joy — but not otherwise.

We are glad to record our testimony to the liberality of our friends
during the past year, and our gratitude to Almighty God for a large
accession to the numbers of the United Methodist Free Churches.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

506 More Bibht and few» Novels.

The increase at Home and Abroad was found bj the last Annual
Assemblj to be upwards of a thousand in the Association portion of
the Amalgamated Body, alone.' We have strong confidence in refe-
rence to the future. Let us all labour in this glorious enterprize;
labour with all our energies, and implicitly rely on God for the fulfil-
ment of His promises on our faithful efforts, and '< the small one shall
become a strong nation: the Lord will hasten it in His timet"^
Isaiah Ix. 22.

MORE BIBLES AND FEWER NOVELS-

BY PBOFBSSOR E. A. L1.WRBNCK.

Bt most business-men provision is made for receiving daily th«
latest political news. They secure the earliest intelligence respecting
all commercial interests. Their counting-rooms are often plentifullj
supplied with the Journals of secular literature and science. But in
how few places of business is the Bible found as a daily companion
and directory ?

What the Church needs is more of a Bible influence in the busi-
ness-life of its members. Many of them confine religious considera-
tions to the Sabbath, — ^perhaps even to the brief hour of the sanctuary
service. Their plans leave them no time, in the business hours of the
week, for more than a casual thought upon the Spirit's work in raising
sinners to the life of faith. Their all-prevalent excuse is^^business.
A few moments at the dull close of the day are given to the dible.
Perhaps it obtains in the morning a hurried, formal perusal of some
short passage. Is it strange that such men have only a dim percep-
tion of the great business of life, when that business is so hidden fiom
their view by the proximity of subordinate matters, when temporal
and eternal things are so made to change places ? Could they be
expected to have a quick sensibility to the obligation to seek first tbe
kingdom of God, when, during six days out of the seven, this king-
dom and these obligations are so systematically excluded from their
business and their thoughts ? TTie directory provided for their assist-
ance in Christ's work, is displaced by the directories in their business
as manufacturers and merchants. They cultivate so exclusively their
powers of perception, with reference to the ends of trade, that they
have but a feeble apprehension of the objects of the Christian life.
The prevalent counting-room literature relates to the modes and
means of making money, and excludes that which enforces the noblest
motives for desiring it. Did they employ the Word of Grod, and the
thrilling reports from successful, missions, ^and the cries for more
helpers, to cultivate their Christian sensibilities, as, by reports of
stocks and of prices current, and the causes of fluctuations in trade,
they train themselves to the sharpest acumen in the chances of basi-
ness, how widely different would be their influence on the cause a^
Christ ?

And yet these men are God's stewards. This is their highest
"designation, their sole important vocation. 'Whf should €ltey i^

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

More Bibtei aHd fetter Navels, Sfft

give place, in the scenes of their dailj stewardship, to the gaides
ezpresslj proyided to instruct them how and to what end thej should
employ their talents? Why should not the Bihle share with the
ledger a portion of their daily attention, and the journals of missions
furnish stimulus to effort as well as the journals of commerce.

The number of readers which the popular works of fiction find in
the church, is much larger than many would believe. But pastors
who have taken the trouble to ascertain the kind of reading which
occupies a large part of the younger members of the church, and even
msnf of the older ones, could easily remove this incredulity.

We would not exclude firom the parlour every work of fancy or of
fiction. Milton's Paradise Lost is a work of fancy. So also are the
Pilgrim Dream and the Holy War of John Bunyan. A few works
may be selected from the multitudinous issues of the press, whose
influence is of a similar character. But the fact to be deplored is,
that many church members devote themselves to fictitious literature
with almost no discrimination. They are the most absorbed in those
works which are the most exciting. The writers by whom they are
most powerfuUy impressed make no pretensions to religion, but often
ridicule evangelical faith as bigotry, and stigmatise the Christian life
as hypocrisy. The mind, in such reading, is mostly occupied with
trifles. It becomes conversant with false views of life, which prepare
the way for disappointment and dejection. It is often sullied with
impurities, which blunt those delicate sensibilities so essential to
vigorous divine life. The taste is formed for what is imaginary rather
than real, and the character sufiers by being founded on fiction,
instead of fact. The vitiated appetite is increased by th^ vicious food
it feeds upon. A disrelish for spiritual duties is acquired by contact
with what is so opposed to them. Sober responsibilities are lost sight
of in the frequency and frenzy of excitements mainly solitary and
selfish. The benevolent sentiments are weakened by being so often
aroused, with no opportunity for benevolent action. Appeals in
behalf of real woe are inefiectual, because, to the jaded sympathies,
they are insipid. The mind under this process of stimulation craves
excitement, which it does not find either in communion with God, or
in the ministrations of Christian charity. The character becomes sen-
timental, unnatural, and at length false. Many have sufiered and are
suffering from this cause without discerning the source of the evil, or
else with a moral sense too enfeebled to resist it.

The highest style of Christian character, compatible with the sickly
influence of this literature, is a religious effeminacy which wastes its
energy in solitary sighings over imaginary woes. Sometimes the
taste is formed on the principle of fastidiousness in external worship,
or an aesthetic devotiop, which is about as much disturbed by an
awkward gesture in the preacher, as by the inculcation of a false doc-
trine,— by the mispronunciation of a word as by the loss of a soul.
The tendency of such reading is to foster a disgust for the appendages
of real woe, and the simplicity of real worship. It indurates the
heart, and dries up its sympathies. It draws the nerve from the reso-
lute will, and multiplies visionary idlers in the vineyard of the Lord.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

458 A Duty drferredL

It teaches profesaedlj Christian men and women to trample on the
cross rather than to take it up ; to denj Christ, by refusing to give
the Gospel to the poor and perishing, rather than denj themselves
this mind-weakening, unsocial, and dissipating indulgence.

Could the reading of the Church be regulated by a regard to the
life aod teachings of Christ, much time, which is now worse than
wasted, wouljd be saved for the benevolent ends of the Christian call-
ing. The affectation of superior gentility, so inconsistent with the
Christian profession, yet so obvious in the character of not a few pro-
fessors in &ishionable circles, would, in a great measure, be prevented
by the influence of a more judicious and Christian literature. The
Church, now in a measure crippled, would receive a new element of
conquering power by the ejection from its pale of this baleful '* tam-
ing away from the truth unto fables."

DOMESTIC ASSOCIATIONS.

▲ DUTT DEFBRRBD.

< Wb haven't said our prayers, mother.'

^ Never mind, dear, 1*11 hear them in the morning.*

' Please to hear me say mine, mamma 1 '

The earnest pleading tones in which these words were uttered, made the
mother hesitate for a minute before she replied, 'Ton know mamma's in a
hurry, dear. There's company in the parlotr ; bat she'll hear it in the
morning.' And with a kiss, and a look of unutterable fondness bestowed
upon each of her little boys, the yoimg, beautiful, and loving, but careless,
thonghUesa mother descended to the parlour, leaving the door ajar, so that
if the little ones should call for anything, they could be the more distinctl/
heard. The wind blew in this crevice, making the light of the candle
flicker, until at last it was extinguished. — ^There was silence in the room
for some ten minutes, then a sweet, silvery voice asked,

* Are you asleep, brother 1 *

* No,' was the reply.

' I wish nursie was home to*night.'

<Whyr

' Because she would listen to my prayer.'

Another silence foUowed. Then again was heard the same sweet voice,

* Let us get up and say our pravers, brother ! '
« Why, it's all dark, WUlie.'

^ Never mind ! we will take hold of each other's bands, and theawe
won't mind the durk ; and you know God can see us in the dark, just as
plain as if it was light.'

* But it's 80 cold 1'

' We won't stay in the cold long : and we will soon get warm again,
when we get back into bed. Will you come, brother ? '

'Mother said it was no matter; she said she'd hear them in the
morning.'

* May be God will not take care of us until morning, if we do not aik
lum to-night, brother. Will you come ? '

' Mother Imows best, and she said, ** Never mind ! " '

After another silence there was a slight rustling in the room,

* Where are you, Willie 1 '

* By the bedside, brother. I will pray for you too.*

Digitized by VjOOQlC

A Duty deferred. 509

Some ten minutes elapeed, when again a slight movement was heard,
which showed that the httle fellow was creeping ba(^ into hed. ' O how
cold you are, Willie ! ' was the exclamation, as his feet touched his bro-
ther's.

'I do not mind it brother, I am so happy. I wish you had prayed too,
but I asked God to take care of you to-night, and I think he will.
Brother, if I should die to-night, I would not be afraid. I don*t think it's
hard to die.'

* I do. I never want to die, and leave pa- and ma.'

* I would be willing to leave ma and pa, to live with God in heaven,
and be always happy, and always good. Wouldn't you ? '

' No ! I think that it is a great deal pleasanter here. I don't believe
that they have any kites, or tops, in heaven.'

* But you know nursie says, that the little angek have crowns of gold on
their heads, and harps in their hands, and that they play such b^utifnl
music on them, and sing such pretty hymns. O I'd like to be in heaven
with them ! '

* I would rather spin my top, than play tunes on a harp.'

' But it isn't like playing common tunes ; it is praising God. O brother !
if you would only pray, yon would love to praise him ! I do not mean just
to say prayers after mother or nursie, although it is very pleasant to have
them teach us pretty ones, but I mean to ask God for whatever you
want, just as you do ma and pa, and to coax him to make you good. O
how I wish mamma, papa, and you would learn to pray so !

•Where is nursie, mother 1 she has not been in our room this morning.'
"Then she did not get home last night ; she said, that if her sister was
worse, she would stay all night with her. But where is Willie ? '
' He is asleep yet ; I spoke to him, but he did not wake.'

* Then I will keep some breakfast warm for him, and we will let him
sleep as long as he will. I do not think that Willie is well. Did you no-
tice, dear,' continued the mother, turning to her husband, * how heavy his
eyes looked yesterday ? — But when I asked him if he was sick, he an-
swered in his usual gentle way, " Only a headache, mamma, don't be wor-
ried." '

* I did not observe that he looked ill,' was the reply. * But if he does
not appear well to-day, you had better send for the physician.'

' O 1 h4d such a funny dream last night about Wulie and I ! ' exclaimed
little Frank.

* What was it, my boy ? ' asked his father, willing to be amused with the
prattle of his child.

* Well, after mamma left us last night the light was blown out ; and
Willie wanted me to get up in the cold and dark with him to say our
prayers, and I wouldn't, because mamma said that we needn't say them
^1 morning, and I thought she knew best. But Willie got up and said
his, and when he came to bed again he was so cold that it made me shiver
wl over to touch him. But he said that he didn't mind it, he was so happy,
And he talked a great deal about dying, and about the angels in heaven, un-
til 1 fell asleep, and it was that which made me dream, I suppose, for I
thought Willie and I went to bed just as we bad done, and that he said his
prayers, and I wouldn't say mine. But I thought that the window was
raised, and that the shutters were wide open, so that I lay on the bed look-
^g up in the sky, and thinking how beautiful the moon and stars looked,
^hen I saw a way up in the heavens, further up than the stars are, two
shadows moving, that looked like two pale white clouds; but they kept
floating down until they reached the lowest star, and then I saw that they

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

I

wtre »naelB ; but ihey looked so email at euch • dutanee tbat I thooght
them baDy-aagelSi bat as they came nearer and nearer, they grew larger,
and when they floated through the window into our room, they looked
like two very lovely ladies, with crowns on their brows like Willie told of;
bat one seemed raUier younger than the other, and she appeared to look
np to the other angel as if to be guided by her. But O such beautifol
Toioea as they had !•— When they spoke, it sounded even sweeter than the
church organ when it is played very soft and low.

* When they came toWarcfs our bed, Willie smiled, and stretched out his
anna to go to them : but I was frightened and covered my fdce with the
bed-clothe^. I was afraid that they would take me away with them, and
I remembered that I had refused to pray, so I did not want to be taken
where God was. Then I heard one of those beautiful voices ask, ' Are we
to take both 1 ' 0 such music as was made when they talked ! All aroaod
our room it floated, sweeter than the soft, low carol of a bird ; and I heard
the answer — ^ No ! only the one that prayed. We are to leave the other
one a little while longer upon the earth, in hopes that he too may learn to
pray, before we carry him before the Great Hearer of Prayer." Then they
came dose to me, and I trembled dreadfully ; and my haaxt beat eo that
I could scarcely breathe; and they uncovered my mce, and looked at
me, but I' did not dare to open mv eyes to look at them ; by-and-bye
I felt a \ng tear &M on my cheek. O mamma, how grieved I was
then to think that I had made the angels weep ; how sorry X was that I
had not prayed 1 for I now thought that I would so muc^ rather have
crowns like they wore, and be as good and lovely as they, and have God
love me, than to have all the kites, and tops, and marbles, that are in the
-whole world I but they passed away from me, and went to the other aide of
the bed, and then I opened my eyes to watch them, and they botih tmiled
on Willie ; and when they smiled, their whole faces ^ew bright, until
they shone like the sun ; then they stooped down and kissed Willie, and
}ie smiled too ; and I saw that bos face was shining like theins ; and he
stretched out his little arms again, and the taller angel lifted him from the
bed and laid him in the bosom of the younger one, who hugged him dose
to her, as though she loved him very much. Then the other angel twined
her arms around both, and they all three floated through the air, until they
sailed past all the stars, and became like pale white clouds that grew small-
er and smaller, until they were nothing but little specks, and I saw them
no more ! For a long time I lay very still, looking up into the bright sky,
hoping to see them come again, and bring WUlie back. But when I fi>and
they came no more — O I was so lonesome t I cried so hard ! and when I
looked at little Willie*s place in bed, and thought that he would nerer
lie there again, and that I must always sleep alone, and have no little
brother to play with, or talk to, I thought my heart would break ! Bat
when this morning came, and I awoke and found little Willie in bed widi
me, I was so glad and happy ! His eyes were only half closed, that made
me think at nrst that he was awake ; and his lips were parted with that
same sweet smile that he wore last night when the angels looked at him,
which made him seem so like one of them, that it made me feel strangely
again, so that I could not speak loud, but whispered sofUy, 'Willie!
Willie ! ' but it did not wake him ; then I laid my hand on him very gently,
but he was so cold that it made me start ; so when I found that he did not
get warm all night, I put the bed-clothes tight around him, and did not try
to wake him a^ain.'

A strange chill crept through the mother's heart as she listened, and ril-
ing from the breakfast-table she hastened to the children's room.— ^
found hi^ little Willie lying on the bedside, pale, cold, but very beautifol,
in that sleep that knows no waking. jProtestdrU Chttrchfiuuu

Digitized by VjOOQIC

6U

GERMS OF THOUGHT.

PRESENT SUFFEEING AND FUTURE GtORT.
" For our light afiOicUoa mliich is but for a moment."— 2 Cor. iv. I7f 18.

HuMAK life is a great and strange problem. In the light of mere reason
It is impossible to solve it. Some things in connection with it have puzzled
thinking men in every age. The wicked flourish like a green bay tree —
the righteous wither like the branches of a tree smitten with lightning.
The unjnst prosper in their undertakings— the just are foiled in their
attempts. The ungodly rise to power and greatness — the godly are insulted
and oppressed. Often wickedness seems to be the very cause of success,
and goodness appears to be a hindrance. From our intuitive sense of right,
and of the rewardableness of virtue, we naturally regard these things as an
anomaly — a problem which reason cannot solve, and from which we are
obliged to turn aside in despair, or refer the question to the principle of
faith. Consulting the Divine word, which is a lamp unto our feet and a
light unto our path, the difficulty disappears like mist before the sun, for
^ e learn that the present life is only preparatory to the future — a process of
discipline and education to be consummated hereafter. Man's moral train-
ing is the object sought by the dispensations of Divine providence, and this
will be better promoted by changes and trials than by an unintermpted
course of prosperity and pleasure. Were man sent into this world for the
enjoyment of mere temporal good, the reconcilement of the trials of virtu-
ous-life with the principles of justice would be utterly impossible. But he
is made for nobler ends than temporal gratification, for sublimer purposes
than labouring for and eating the bread which perishes ; and the withhold-
ing of present good, or interrupting its enjoyment by afflictions and trials,
will often promote the grand purpose for which God made and redeemed
him. This is, at least, the teaching of Divine revelation, and against it
reason has nothing to offer, but much, very much, to presume in its favour.
"For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory ; while we look not at the
things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen ; for the thinss
whi(3i are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal."
Passing over the several items of the text, and their critical examination,
the great truth taught is this : Affliction and trials, when borne in a Chris-
tian spirit, and with reference to a future state, are made the means of con-
tributing to, and preparing us for, an " eternal weight of glory." In sup-
port of this proposition a tew considerations may be adduced.

1. The connection between present euffering and future glory is not
natural. Afflictions are not in themselves blessings. Disease of body, pain
of mind, loss of property, bereavement, disappointment, are all evils, and
nothing else. Abstractedly, there is no good in them, and no good can tiiey
confer. No man can desire poverty or pain for its own sake, but every man,
in this view, may seek to avoid both. Nor is the connexion a necessary
one. Men are not of necessity made morally better by affliction. It is not
in the nature of things for affliction to confer spiritual benefit. Men may
be chastised in almost every possible way, visited frequently and severely,
and be like, in a moral point of view, the beaten anvil to the stroke. The
fire may consume, and not purify ; the trial may prove only the savour of

death unto death. Nature can' work out her own results; but nature's
work is not spiritual. Her laws, influences, and ends are not directly moral,

but physical. Affliction will necessarily afiect a man's physical system;

but it will not necessarily improve his moral nature. It will make it worse
if the provisions of Divine Grace are neglected.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

512 Germs of Thought.

2. The connection between affliouoh and future glory is a Bwine one.
One which is the result of special arrangement on the part of God. Man
is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward. He is heir to it. It is his
birthright, and from it he cannot escax>e. It is therefore one of the greatest
triumphs of Divine wisdom and goodness that these natural evils
shall be made contributory to spiritual ends. Suffering is not meritorious.
We might suffer for ever, without suffering bringing relief or proving
corrective. Present affliction is linked to future felicity by the merciful
hsud of God. It is converting sin's consequences into a weapon against
itself— turning the devil's woi^ into an instrument of his own ruin. Be-
hold, then, the goodness and severity of God — severity in allowing man to
suffer, goodness in converting suffering into a means of salvation. The
process, however, is purely spiritual. It implies the possession of religious
qualities, and the bearing of trials in a Christian spirit One may suffer as
a philosopher, as a stoic, or as an iafidel, and not derive moral benefit ; but
when fidfliction leads the mind to God, to Christ, to eternity, it ^ worketh for
US a far more exceeding and eternal weight of gloiy."

3. Constituted as man is, suffering and trial are more adapted to
arrest the attention of the thoughtless and the prayerless, /md lead the
mind to spiritual things, than an even course of temporal enjoyment.
'* It is good for me tmX I have been afflicted ; that I might learn thy
Btatutes." ^' Before I was afflicted, I went astray ; but now I have
kept thy word." This has been the effect in innumerable instances.
While men are healthful and prosperous they too frequently forget God.
They act as if they had not time to think of their souls. Affliction
comes, the ordinary course of things is interrupted, their attention is
arrested, and they derive spiritual benefit. Sensible things more readily
and more strjoncly impress us than spiritual. Objects of sight are nearer
and more palpable to us than objects of faith. The still small voice of
GUkL in his word and providence is often disregarded ; but pain is an argu-
ment that will make itself felt. It is direct and personal in its appeal,
and frequently its warning is successfuL With a pious man, affliction
affords an opportunity for the fuller exercise of the graces of the Soly
Spirit. Patience, resignation, and submission, are necessary to the com-
pleteness of Christian character, and these plants grow best in the soil of
affliction. The sufferings of Chnst were necessary to the complete mani-
festation of his character, and sufferings now form a strong test and give
a noble manifestation of Christian virtues.

. 4. Present affliction tends to impress us with a sense of personal
mortality. Men think all men mortal but themselves. It is difficult to
ffive this fact a pointed and personal bearing — to lead a man to feel that
he is dying. It is comparatively easy to acknowledge the general fact,
to believe uiat all men will die, or must die ; but to feel that I am dying
is not readily realbed. On this subject affliction is a powerful minister —
a pointed and personal preacher. To feel this truth and to act acoorduigly,
is a great and useful lesson. Affliction weans us from the world. In the
sick chamber, the glare and show of the present life are seen in their real
colour, and a correct estimate of their value may be formed. Their decep-
tion and insufflciency are felt ; their sweetness is turned into insipidity,
and a more enduring substance is felt to be needful. *^ To be carnally
minded is death." Affliction leads to self-examination ; it affords time to
reflect and think. The great problems of life and death and eternity are
pressed upon tWmind. The past life is recalled, bringing a sense of guilt,
and apprehensions of the future. The soul seems to look into itself, and
pass judgment on its real character. This process is deep, and solemn,
and earnest, and if followed up will be a blessing. The temptations to self-
flattery are weakened, and a man is more likely to form a oorreetjudg-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Reminiscences of John Lee^ of Heywood, 513

ment of himself. Suffering often leads to the abandonment of sin. Sin
and sorrow go hand in hand. The former is frequently forgotten till
brought powerfully home by the latter. Men sometimes suffer in the very
line in which they transgress. Sin is felt to be, if not an evil, at least a
painful thing, and as men do not like pain, they are often induced to
abandon sin to avoid pain. Suffering often directs the mind to eternity.
The present is shut out from the thoughts, and the future, with all its
solemn realities, presses upon the mind. The spirit seems to realise the
fact of its immortality, and commune with its destiny. No long chain of
metaphysical reasoning is necessary to paint this great truth, and arm it
with power. The soul will no longer be baffled with the perverted reason-
ings of the intellect ; it rises to its native dignity, and links itself to the
unseen and the eternal. If this forecasting of the vast future be per-
mitted to exert a salutary influence on the soul, then affliction will work
for us " a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." Affliction is
generally accompanied with a sense of weakness, and where it has not a
hardening effect, leads the patient to implore Divine help. Self-sufficiency
and self-dependence are abandoned. The strong man is made weak, and
the high is brought low. Human help is unavailing, and the sufferer looks
to Him who is *' mighty to save.'* With a Christian, affliction is the time
for the more vigorous exercise of faith in the promises of consolation.
These are adapted to the various forms of suffering and trial, and at such
a time their appropriateness and power are more fully realised. —

«« The fire our graces shall refine,
Till, moulded from above,
We bear the character divine,
The stamp of perfect love."

These considerations show the way in which affliction, by the blessing
of God, is made to contribute to our spiritual welfare. " AU things work
together for good to them that love God." Let the suffering Christian
rejoice in his position and prospect, and so bear the trials of his life that
they may work for him **a far more exceeding and eternal weight of
glory." • a

REMINISCENCES OF JOHN LEE, OF HEYWOOD.

BY EDMUND HEYWOOD.

There is no argument on behalf of Christianity so powerful as a holy life.
There is no subject more worthy of attentive study than such a life. There
is no sight so beautiful as embodied virtue. The life of a good man — a
uniformly and truly good man — is a subject before which one may well reve-
rently pause, and while we treasure its memory in our own heartw, we
ought to use every means to embalm, preserve, and perpetuate its record to
future time. For its own sake it ought not to be forgotten, and for the sake
of posterity it ought to be recorded. And when we are, personally, deeply
indebted to the wise and the good, gratitude prompts us to strew flowers on
their graves, or to erect a monument to their memory.

It is pleasing to meet here and there with specimens of genuine worth,
where wisdom, kindness, and piety, combine to make our humanity lovely,
and throw around it a halo of genuine beauty. Neither mental nor moral
worth are confined to any one sphere. We meet with them in every station,
from the very highest to the very lowest, and though the number of the
wise and the good is far from being so large as we would desire, yet God,

^ Here is an example of a writer keeping close to his scheme, whieh we should b«
glad to find all our correspondeuts ImitatiDg. — ^Editor.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

514 Beminiscenees of John Lee, of Heywood,

leaves not himself without witnesses in any age or place. The writer has
been frequently gladdened by meeting intelligence, piety, and moral amia-
bility in modest guise and in the most unlooked-for places, Methodism has
strove much to bring out latent worth and develope mental and moral excel-
lency. Many a flower that but for her seemed born to blush unseen, has
been brought into notice. It has been her's to develope every order of
talent, from the towering intellect of a "Watson, or the gorgeous imagiuation
of a Beaumont, or the oratorical powers of a Newton, or the comprehensive
and varied capacity of a Clarke, to the homely and familiar talents of a
" Village Blacksmith " or a " Wall's End Miner." Between these extremes
what vast varieties of mind and character the attentive observer of Metho-
distic influence beholds ! The writer, though not yet forty years of age,
has seen piety in various states and stages, has made observation rather
extensively in human life and character, but has only met with one John
Zee, though he has known more than one who bore that name. He whose
name stands at the head of this paper was no ordinary man. It is true
he had not had a first-rate education, but he was a man of unusual
discernment, intelligence, and taste. He was not a poet, though he now
and then dabbled in verse, and was a good judge of poetic excellence. He
was not a man of gorgeous imagination, but he had a relish and a just ap-
preciation of the higher flights of eloquence and oratory. He was not a
professed metaphysician, though he had a much keener intellect than is
found in ordinary men, and was at home in the company, and on very cordial
and friendly terms with, and often and for many years a companion of such
men as Thomas and Elisha Townend. He greatly enjoyed their preaching
and conversation, and there was, between them, a mutual recognition of
each other's mental and moral excellences. He could scarcely lie called a
great master, though his knowledge was much beyond the ordinary run
of men, and what he knew he had at command. He was pre-eminently
distinguished for prudence, shrewdness and clear strong common sense.

As a man of God he was not characterised by the special prominence of
any one of the graces that distinguish and adorn the Christian character;
but in his moral as in his mental character there was a happy blending of ex-
cellences. He shone as a star, with a clear, steady, and constant Instre.
There was no glare, no noise, no show, but a modest union of sanctity and
firmness, of meekness and zeal, of faith, hope, and charity ; and to him often
belonged the blessing of the " peacemaker.'* In him, with a serene and
steady beauty, shone the image of Jesus ; but his faculties of head and
heart were so evenly blended, that it was necessary to know him intimately
in order to be able fuUv to understand and duly to estimate his gennine
worth. The writer did thus know him, and is proud to have had his
friendship and confidence from his boyhood. His venerated name is asso-
ciated in my mind with the recollection of some of the most interesting
periods and events of my somewhat varied and chequered life. When I
think of myself as a little boy in the Sabbath-school, the image of his
meek, intelligent, and genial face rises up before me, and I am listening
to his very acceptable addresses to the scholars and teachers of the Hey-
wood Sunday-school. No face was ever more welcome both to scholars and
teachers than his, when he visited us and addressed to ns his words of
wisdom and kindness. When I rememb^ the time that the most important
of all questions was welling up from the depth of my juvenile heart,
" What must I do to be saved ?" again I remember him. "Wlien I began to
meet in class, a lad of fourteen years of age, he was my leader, and his
words of wholesome counsel and fatherly love were among the principal
means of preserving my young feet from returning to the ways of folly.
Many of his words of advice and counsel are stored up in my memoij, and
at our last interview, more than two years ago, I was reminding him d

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Remniseences of John Lee, of Heyufood. 515

some things he used to say to me, when, with his usual henignity and
friendly smile, he said, " Well, thou hast a good memory." I only wish 1
had been as faithful in practising, as memory has been in retaining, the
recollection of his sage hints and wise directions. One passage of sacred
Scripture, of which he often reminded me in closing his remarks to me in
the Class-meeting, was that noble and soul-inspiring text in Daniel, " Then
they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they
that turn many to righteousness as the stars, for ever and ever." When
I began to be a Prayer Leader, a Sunday evening attender on cottage
Prayer-meetings, J well remember his encouraging "Amen," uttered in atone
of tender and almost joyous earnestness, that bore me along from sentence
to sentence, until a measure of self-possession was secured so essential to the
efficient and profitable discharge of that important duty. And when I
was called by the Church to exhort and to preach, he, with the affection of
a father, often accompanied me to my appointments to various places in the
Rochdale and Hey wood Circuits; and his dear, kind, friendly, well-
known face has kept me from " breaking down," when otherwise I might
not have been able to proceed. When I preached my trial sermon in
Baillie-street Chapel vestry, he was kind enough to accompany me, and,
though it is now going on fast to twenty years since, his kindness is as
fresh in my recollection as if it had been only yesterday. And when a dark
cloud came over my soul, and threw a gloom over everything relating to
myself, in the form of nervous prostration and despondency, and I felt it
needful under the mysterious aflliction to retire from the work of the minis-
try some nine years ago, his wisdom and kindness were as uniform as ever,
and he did not forsake me while I passed through the cloud and through
the sea. And well do 1 remember the gladness with which he welcomed
the return of my former constitutional buoyancy and spiritual calm.
From some I suffered. There were those whose countenance was changed
during that time of severe trial. But he is a friend who is faithful in
adversity. Such an one was John Lee. Alas ! that the number of such
is so very, very small !

The idea of gathering up and marking these reminiscences struck my
mind with great force a few days ago, when addressing from the pulpit a
number of young converts. I thought it a pity that no record of him
should be preserved in our denominational literature. He had the happiest
method of hinting at a fault, and insinuating a reproof, of any man i ever
met with. Though he had nothing of the ^orm, he had more of the spirit
of a gentleman than any man I was ever intimate toith — except one dear
living Friend, who has both.

As a Class Leader, he. was one of the wisest and most efficient that I
ever met with. While punctual and regular in his attendance in this
duty, he was also so kind, so considerate, so judicious, so truly devout,
80 free from everything that could offend, and at the same time had
B^ch a fund of information and suitable remarks, that, with all his
members, he was a very great favourite. For much more than a quarter
of a century he met two classes, one on the Sunday morning, and the
other on a Wednesday evening ; and I am sure that the feeling of all
who met with him, is in harmony vnth my brother Robert's words, in a
note that I had from him some weeks ago, that " they never shall see his
like again."

In company, while his conversational powers were considerable, perhaps
1^ most distinguished trait was, he was a good listener. He kindly
listened to you ; he drew you out ; he heard what you had to say, and
he never wounded anyone's feelings by sarcastic or unthou^htful remarks :
and what he did say was as sensible as it was pertinent and judicious. He
«aa a sacred regard to the feelings of others as to their person or their

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

5\6r ftemnucences of John Lee, of Heywood,

house. He followed thingB which made for peace, and things by which
one man might edify another. He was as free from the moTOse, the
gloomy, or the sour, as he was from the frivolous, the foolish, or the bitter.
He opened his mouth in wisdom, and his words always had weight and
influence, though they were free from heaviness and sanctimoniouaness.
The genial and kindly smile generally played around his features, and it
was as pleasant as it was instructive to sit at his feet.

In relating his experience and in prayer, he was sincere, edifying,
devout, and prudent. His manner was quiet, but earnest. In an early
part of his Christian career, he was wont to attend Cottage, and other
Prayer-meetings in company with a noisy and loud praying brother, and
no man could tolerate that sort of thing, when sincere, more leniently
than he could to the close of life. On one occasion, nearly a quarter of
a century ago, he thought he would depart from his own quiet method,
and for once shout as loud as William Cryer himself. But in doing so he
felt that he had departed from nature —was no lonser himself. He said,
'* I never had a more barren time in my life, and I determined ever after-
wards to walk in my own clogs^

At the commencement of the Temperance movement, more than twenty
years a^o, John Lee became one of its members, and was for many yeais
one of Its wisest and most efficient advocates. Though his pale thin face
was not the best recommendation of Total Abstinence to many, yet the
clear strong sense, couched in language equally clear and strong, uttered
in tones of quiet, earnest friendliness, always secured him a very respect-
ful hearing ; — persons of all classes listening with equal interest to the man
of kindness, of intelligence, and of Christian earnestness. No man was
more acceptable at any time, nor was any man listened to with more
attention and respect. He had not the musing, overpowering eloquence
of the inspired orator; he did not electrify his hearers by the originality
of his thoughts, or the overwhelming power and splendour of his
declamation ; but he never failed to interest, to instruct, to please ; and
rarely to carry conviction to the minds of his hearers. He never displeased
or disgusted, or trifled with his audience, but was at once a graceful, an in-
structive, an acceptable, and a useful public speaker. I remember him
saying to me when I was just commencing to speak on the platform,
and behind the chair in Cottages, *' One of the best ways of preparing
to be acceptable as a public speaker, in my opinion, is for a man to ask
himself, Now, what mode of address would be most becoming to mef
And then to regulate his conduct accordingly.*' Another remark made
about the same time, either by John Lee or James Wholly, another good
and excellent man, long since gone home, is this, ** One of the moat useihi
things to a public speaker, that I know, is determination ; to determine
that he will say what he has prepared and intends to say." Whatever
others may think of these two remarks, I regard them as equal in im-
portance and suggestiveness to anything I have since either heard or
read on the subject to which they relate.

The hymns which a person generally selects and gives out^ when
leading the devotions of others, is one not unimportant indication of
his own mental tastes and spiritual character. There are some couplets
that have become sacred, by being associated with the memory of some
dear departed friend, or some just and good man. Dr. Beaumont has
made some couplets of Dr. Watts dear to many minds ; the last words
that fell £rom ms eloquent lips being--*

"Thee, while the first Archangel sings,
He hides his face behind his wings.^'

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Reminiscences of John Lee, of Heywood. 517

We think of the sublime deathbed raptures of holy John Fletcher,
when we read or sing —

" While Jesu's blood through earth and skies,
Mercy, free boundless mercy, cries.'*

And the memory of my venerated' friend John Lee is inseparably
associated with the reading or singing of certain well-known hymns.
Those hymns being often sang by him may be regarded as *' fayourites/'
and hence casting light on his tastes and predilections. In conducting
our devotions in the Sunday-school, he often selected one or other of
these two divine songs by Dr. Watts, the one beginning —

"The praises of my tongue

I oner to the Lord,
That I was taught, and learned so yQung,

To read his holy word."

The other commencing thus —

"What blest examples do I find.

Writ in the word of truth,
Of children that began to mind

Religion in their youth.*'

In opening the Prayer or the Class-meeting, two hymns most fre«
quently selected, were the following —

"A charge to keep I have,

A God to glorify,
A never dying soul to save,

And fit it for the sky.

To serve the present age.

My calling to fulfil,
0 may it all my powers engage,

To do my Master's will."

The other being in the opposite page of the book, namely this—

** Be it my only wisdom here,
To serve the Lord with filial fear,

With loving gratitude.
Superior sense may I display,
By shunning every evil way,

And walking in the good."

In winding up the Class-meeting, one of the two verses which he most
frequently chose, was either the stanza expressive of exclusive and entire
reliance in Christ's atonement, or the one breathing a wish for entire con-
formity to the image of Jesus. I allude to the following, the introduction
of which the reader will I am sure forgive.

" Forever here my rest shall be,

Close to Thy bleeding side.
This all my hope and all my plea,

For me the Saviour died."

" Up into Thee, our Living Head,

Let us in all things grow,
Till Thou hast made us free indeed,

And spotless here below."

Digitized by VjOOQIC

518 Reminiscences of John Lee, of Heywood,

John Lee was at once a lover of social order, and a true friend of freedom.
On politics he had decided opinioos, and while in favour of an extension
of the franchise, he never sympathised with the very extreme views
that were so earnestly advocated in many towns in Lancashire and
Yorkshire, some years ago. He would have had intelligence, political
privileges, and power, to go hand in hand. He believed that power was
only safe when in the hands of the wise and the good ; and that the
best means of promoting the happiness and political advancement of the
people, is to raise them in intelligence and virtue. His temper and judg-
ment were in harmony with the Apostolic injunction, '* Let your modera-
tion be known unto all men." In the "Wesleyan Agitations of 3835, he
had decided views, and was strongly and conscientiously opposed to the
method pursued by the Conference, but never went to the extreme of
some of the illiberal liberals of the other side. He left the Parent
Society on principle, and remained firm in his attachment to the prin-
ciples of the Association to the last ; but he had a sacred regard to
right and to order, and never did he countenance wild lawlessness. In
1835 nearly the entire Society and School left the Conference Connexion;
few remained either in the School or the Chapel, and perhaps a more
united Church has not been found in any part of our body, than was the
one in Heywood, up to the time of John Lee's death. Its peacefalness
and unanimity have been in no small degree owing to John Lee's wise
counsels and judicious influence.

Hence I feel it my duty, as well as pleasure, to pay this humble but
reverent tribute to the memory of a good and a wise man. A few dates,
and one or two incidents, and I have done.

He was borp at Skipton, in Yorkshire — a county where Methodism has
done wonders during the last century — ^about the year 1788, and died at
Heywood, Lancashire, April 2nd, 1866. The exact time of his conversion
I cannot record ; but what is certainly known is as follows : — He had been
under strong and powerful convictions of sin for a considerable time ; going
from place to place seeking rest to his troubled soul and finding none. One
Sunday afternoon, in mournful and melancholy mood, he was passing a
house of mercy, a Methodist chapel. Hearing that divine service was going
on he ventured in. It was a lovefeast. While he listened to the Christian
experience of the various speakers, as they told in plain and simple lan-
guage, how they had sought and found pardon, and how through mercy
they had for years retained a sense of it in their own souls ; this " smitten
deer" became unceasingly anxious for salvation. He scarcely dared so
much as to look up ; but though his eye seldom caught a sight of the
speakers, his ear and heart drunk in the important truths which fell from
their lips. He learned from them — plain and unlearned as were manj of
the men and women who spoke — " the way to be saved." He struggled to
be born. He longed for the peace, and hope, and joy, of which he heard
others speak. He was not far from the kingdom of God. Important con-
sequences were depending on the results of that afternoon — consequences
affecting him, and through him hundreds more for ever. Jesus passed by
and saw him, and had compassion on him. Speaking being ended he knelt
down with others, anji covering his face with his hands, he breathed his
whole soul into the ear of the Great Father. His words being. Father, I
have sinned. God .be merciful to me a sinner! While he knelt there
in the quiet comer of a plain Methodist chapel, the spirit of bondage
gave place to the Spirit of adoption, and his Father, in heaven, assured
this sorrowful and anxious one that he was born into the family of the
saints, and made an heir of God, and a joint-heir with Christ. He never
afterwards doubted his acceptance in the beloved. His path was as the
shining light, shining more and more unto the perfect day. This was con-

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

Reminiscences of John Lee^ of Hey wood. 519

siderably more than thirty years ago. From that day to liis dying day
his walk was uniform and consistent. He was blameless and harmless
a son of God. He stood as an iron pillar strong. He was not moved
away from the hope of the Gospel. He adorned the doctrine of God his
Saviour in all things. Whether in the sanctuary, or in the factory, he
was the same Christian man. It may seem strong language, but I believe it
is true, that he never made an enemy or lost a friend. His prudence ap-
peared instinctive, and his regard not only for the right, but the becoming,
was beyond all praise. The sceptic and the sinner reverenced John Lee,
and felt how sacred and how amiable true godliness is.

His death was in beautiful harmony with his life, peaceful and serene.
While conscious for many months that the earthly house of his tabernacle
was dissolving, he was undismayed, not because he was indifferent, but be-
cause he knew and was fully assured that he had a building of God, a house
not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. His affliction — a general
wearing out of the physical machinery — was borne with exemplary patience
and becoming fortitude. He felt as all parents do, for the spiritual welfare
of his family, and as long as he was able himself, officiated at the domestic
altar. Though the joy of seeing his children all walking in the truth was
not his, yet he had a humble hope that his example, instructions, and pray-
ers, would not be lost upon them, but that after death had taken him away,
and while the clods of the valley were sweet around him, that they would
all remember and worship the God of their father, and prepare to meet
him in heaven. " 0 that they were wise, that they understood this, that
they would consider their latter end !'* His sun set in a clear, a cloudless
sky, as the Spring of 1856 was approaching, and his meek and beautiful
spirit went home to the land —

Where everlasting Spring abides.
And never- withering flowers.

" Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is

peace."

Sweet is the scene where virtue lies,

When sinks a righteous soul to rest ;
How mildly beam the closing eyes,

How gently heaves the expiring breast !

So fades a summer-cloud away ;

So sinks a gale when storms are o'er ;
So gently shuts the Eye of day ;

So dies a wave along the shore.

A holy quiet reigns around,

A calm which nothing can destroy ;
Nought can disturb the peace profound

Which their unfettered souls enjoy.

Its duty done, as sinks the day

Light from its load the spirit flies ;
While heaven and earth combine to say,

Sweet is the scene where virtue lies !

Stochtonron-TeeSy August 1857.

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

520

GODLINESS VIEWED IN CONNECTION WITH

TEMPORAL THINGS.

No. IV.

We have now found that Godliness viewed phi/sicalh/, mentaUy, and
inteUectuaUy promotes our happinesss, and adds in no small degree to our
enjoyment of temporal thines. There is, however, another aspect of the
question which ought not to he omitted. Man is a moral being, and if the
wants of his mor^ nature are not met, his happiness must he incomplete.
If we look over the history of our forefathers, we shall find this to be the
case. It is not necessary that we should do that to find that man cannot be
happy, unless the wants of his moral nature are satisfied. There are
numbers around us at the present day, who possess both physical and intel-
lectual vij^our, but who, notwithstanding this, do not enjoy << temporal
things" with so large an amount of pleasure, as those whose physical and in-
tellectual condition is far inferior to theirs. Nor can we account for this in
the difference of their circumstances, although the former often are in a
better position for enjoying life, yet we find their happiness far beneath
the happiness which the latter enjoy. If we enquire minutely into the
cause of this difference, it will be found that the former have made no
provision for the supply of their moral nature, whilst it has been attended
to by the latter. Hence it appears necessary, that rightly to estimate the
value of anything viewed in connection with temporal matters, it ought to
be looked at in a moral aspect. We proceed then, to look at the vidue of
vital Godliness in promoting our welfare.

Morally, Strange as it may seem, yet it is true that some have objected
to Christianity, because it did not produce moral effects upon all who
professed to believe it. They saw heinous crimes committed by those who
bore the name of Christians. They saw immorality endeavour to cover its
hideous form, by putting on the garb of religion ; and they rashly
concluded that true religion was not able to produce any revolution in the
moral state of man. That the religion of Jesus Christ should be branded
with those crimes — that it should be pronounced guilty without an exami-
nation, is not to be wondered at, when it is considered how depraved is the
human heart, and how very ready worldlings are to find fault with anything
which opposes their vicious tendencies, and obstinate prejudices. Whatever
may have been the conduct of professors of Godliness, (and it is a matter of
deep regret, that there have been too man^ who have not only been
a disgrace to the religious community to which they may have belonged,
but they have also been a disgrace to men of the world ;) it does not alter
^e fact, that Godliness is moral in its tendencies. The possessors of God-
liness must be found, if we wish to observe its effects upon the morally of
men. Let the system of Godliness as revealed in the Bible be examined
itself, independently of its professors. It may safely be asserted, that after
an impartial examination, no unprejudiced mind would conclude otherwise,
than that the Gospel of Jesus Chnst is the most sublime, pure, excellent,
and extensive system of morality ever presented to the world. Con-
trast it with those systems which the ancient philosophers endeavoured
to rear to stem the onward tide of immorality. It stands towering
above all, and appears beside them, as yon Alpine heights, with their pure
snow-white tops appear besides those dwarfish dingy hillocks at their base.
The ancient philosophers never yet attempted to erect a barrier to stem the
dark tide of immorality, which flowed before them, without leaving some
opening, through which the flood passed, only to roll on with incre^ed ra-
pidity and'violence.

"Christianity (says Dr. Gregory) is distinguishable from all other
systems, by the purity, excellence, and extent of the morality it enforoes,"

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Godliness viewed in connection with Temporal TJtings, 521

and so the reader on examination will find it. Man is taught in the
Bible that the paths of virtue are the paths in which lie ought to walk.
He is commanded ** to he holy, even as God is holy." He has Jesus Christ
set before him as a pattern, and the tendency of Godliness is to make its
followers " like unto Him in all things/' How great must he the moral
influence for good, exerted upon those who constantly keep such an example
before them. In the life of Jesus Christ, we see the very emhodiment
of moral perfection. There never was a heing, whose life was suhjected to
such keen and unsparing criticism as his : *yet among all his enemies, there
never has, neither will there ever he one, who will he ahle to lay anything
immoral to His charge. Numhers of those who have rejected His
teachings, have yet uttered expressions of admiration, when contem-
plating His exemplary life as depicted in the New Testament. Yea,
and when Christ was brought before His enemies, cruel and unjust as
they were, they could '*find no fault in him." Anxious, as numbers
of them were to point out some stain in His moral character, yet there
was found none to Ikj anything to his charge. All the virtues
shine forth in Him. ISTot only did He teach them by His lips to love
one another, to be just, to do evil to no man, to love their neighbours as
themselves, "to do unto others as they would that others should do unto
them ;" but He, in His life, exhibited these virtues. The possessors of
godliness will be always striving to be like unto their Master in all things.
He came to set them an example, that they might follow in His footsteps.
The very nature of Godliness is to make men like Jesus Christ. Is it not
then an evident truth that the Gospel is moral in its tendencies ? How
can it be otherwise, when it sets up such a standard of moral exce^ence,
and enjoins upon its followers the necessity of coming up, as far as pos-
sible, to that standard. When the question is candidly examined, we
shall not think that Lactantius was speaking hyperboHcally, when he ex-
claimed, '' Give me a man who is choleric, abusive in his language, head-
strong, and unruly ; and with a very few words (the words of God) he
shall be rendered gentle as a lamb. Give me a greedy, avaricious, close-
fisted man, and I will presently return him to you a generous creature,
freely bestowing his money by handsful. Give me a cruel, blood-thirsty
wretch ! instantly his ferocity shaU be transformed into a truly mild, and
merciful disposition. Give me an unjust man, a foolish man, a sinful man ;
and on a suaden he shall become honest, wise, and virtuous. In one laver
(the laver of regeneration) all his wickedness shall be washed away. So
great is the efficacy of the Divine wisdom, that when once admitted into
the human heart, it expels folly — the parent of all vice ; and in accomplish-
ing this great end, there is no occasion for any expence, no absolute need
of books or deep and long study, or meditation." •

Let the reader imagine how great must be the influence exerted upon
our moral nature, by the grand and sublime truths which Godliness reveals.
Thus we have placed before us a Heaven of Glories, where all is joy and
peace. This, we are told, is prepared for those who are the faithful fol-
lowers of the Lord Jesus Christ. On the other hand, there is depicted a
place of punishment, where all is ^ weeping and waiHng and gnashing of
teeth ;'* which is to be the abode of those who continue to walk in the
ways of the wicked.

There are many more considerations which might have been brought
before the reader, to have shown the tendency of Grodliness to produce a
morality of the purest, and most ennobling kind ; but we deem it tm-
neceasary. It is so generally admitted, and so self-evident, that its
fiercest and most powerful antagonists cannot convince an ordinary un-
prejudiced mind to the contrary.

* Gregory's Letters on t)ie Christian Religion.— Editor.

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

522 GodUness viewed in connection with Temporal Things.

This Godliness has now been viewed in four aspects, and we have found
how valuable it is to us, physically, mentally, intellectnally, and morally,
even in this life. The more the subject is thought about, so much the
more does its value appear when only viewed in connection with temporal
things. We had purposed viewing it in several more aspects, but it was
found that to do so, it would be necessary to occupy more space than had
originally been intended. We shall therefore merely name them, and
perhaps the thoughtful reader may, at some future period, examine this
most interesting, and most profitable subject, for himself.

We had iutended to view it socially — to look at the influence it exerted
upon that much loved spot, around which all our heart-strings cling with
such tenacity. We refer to that place called by that sweet and express-
sive name— home ! We should have endeavoured to show that Religion
supplied the elements necessary to make a domestic hearth, in the high-
est sense of the term — a happy home. We should have seen, how like a
guardian Angel, it shielded the happy home from those demons which
often cast over it the mantle of despair, and hurl its inmates into the
gulfs o£ misery. We should have seen that it taught us how to be good
fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, and neighbours ; and in numerous other
wavs we should have seen how Godliness contributes to bless us socially,
and enables us to enjoy, with increased pleasure, our temporal things.

It was proposed also to look at the subject commercially. It would have
been interesting to have enquired, whether this Godliness was not, even in
this age of adulteration and fraud, valuable to the man of bnsiness,— to
have shown how it was certain to bestow upon its possessor many essen-
tial qualifications for success in business, to have seen how it preserved
him from many evils which have blasted for ever the prospects of many
business men. Nor would it have been less interesting to nave viewed it
nationally^ It was purposed to bring before the reader the condition of those
countries which partially possesses it, and those which are entirely desti-
tute of it, and also to have enquired how it would efiect nations supposing
its influence were universally felt. It would have also been interesting
here to have answered the enquiry, what constitutes England's glory, and
how it is that one glorious Institution after another, is reared upon
her shores, while surrounding nations are filled with admiration as they
perceive her steady onward progression 1 These, and many more con-
siderations in connection with the subject, might have been brought before
the reader, had it not beeH for occupying too much space. W ith a few
more remarks therefore it must be left with the thoughtful.

It must be borne in mind that bright as is the promise which Godliness
gives us of the life that now is, that brightness fades into comparative
insignificance, when contrasted with the promise it holds out to its pos-
sessors in the world to come —

"Descending from the skies

To wretched man ; the goddess in her left

Holds out this world, and in her right the next : "

^ Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, neither hath it entered into the
heart of man to conceive what the Lord hath laid up for them that Ioyc
Him."

And now, dear reader, we have done, and yet we should not feel justified
unless we iirged the question, '' Do you possess this pearl of great price \ "
This treasure has been offered to you by a bounteous Creator, Preserver,
and Bedeemer. Like all tiis precious gifts it is free. It is ofiered to jou
without money and without price. Have you accepted it ? If you have,
you can add your testimony to the truth of what has been stated in
reference to its value. Worlds on worlds would not induce you to barter
it. Although the possessor of Godliness may be a beggar, so far as this

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Christopher JFabh, of Knuzden, 523

world's goods are concerned ; yet we see in him " an heir of God and a
joint-heir with Christ/' He is heir " to an inheritance incorruptible and
undefiled, and which fadeth not away,"— heir to a kingdom whose sun of
glory will never set, — heir to a crown which will endure for ever.

If you do not possess this pearl of great price, dear reader, we would
solemnly and faithfully ask you to, pause and think. Whatever may be
your position in life, you have yet to learn, th.it you have neglected the
most important duty devolving upon you, and that is to accept the pro-
fered gifc. Think you, that indifference towards it is justifiable. Great
as is your loss without it in this life, yet your lo^s in tlfe eternal world
will be infinitely greater. Christ has died, that you might have tliis
treasure. God has promised you the influence of His Holy Spirit to
enable you to accept this offer. We can almost imagine we see angels and
archangels stand aghast at the conduct of those who remain without it.
Let those in this awful condition ask themselves the question. Where shall
I appear in the great day of account, if I pass into the eternal world with-
out possessing that Godliness which is profitable unto all things 1

Sunderland, P.

BIOGRAPHY.

CHETSTOPHER WALSH, OF KNUZDEN.

The subject of this brief memoir was born in 1807, and was the son of
Christopher and Martha Walsh, of Over Darwen. His affectionate mother
died when he was very young, but her tender solicitude was in part made
up by the ceaseless, prayerful, and anxious attention of his pious and
devoted father, whose instruction and holy example were made a rich bles-
sing to his boy. His father died happy a few years since, after living
many years a consistent member of the Conference Methodists. Our
brother's religion was not the result of any moral, formal, or educational
training, but of sound Scriptural conversion, shown by its corresponding
fruits. Like others, he had some severe personal, ana domestic trouble^
to pass through, but the Lord was with him in the floods and firesi
and overruled them all for good. The time of his conversion has not been
recorded, but as early as 1817 he met in class with the' pious and devoted
Burgoyne Fish, under whose leadership he grew in grace and in the know-
ledge of Jesus Christ.

From some cause or causes he was about ten years separated from the
Church, though a teacher in the school, a strange, anomalous position, which
too many occupy in most Churches, not members themselves, and stumblingr
blocks to others. About 1832 he saw his error, and went to class again, and
followed the Lord more, earnestly, and zealously sought the good of others.
The proceedings of the Wesleyan Conference in 1835 he considered un-
scriptural, and not being willing to submit to a curtailment of his Christian
liberties, he, with a few others in Over Darwen, seceded from the Church
of his father. After surmounting some difficulties a suitable room was
obtained, where he and his friends copld worship God according to their
conscience and the New Testament. After consulting his brethren, a
Saibbath-school was commenced ; some had fears about books and funds,
but, he said, " he would beg and borrow," rather than not have a school.
He did so, and God crowned their efforts with success, and he lived to see
one of the most flourishing Sunday-schools in Over Barwen ; and now, with
its powerful and noble Band of Hope, one of the most useful in the
temperance cause. He delighted in the means of grace, and was very
powerful in the duty of prayer.
In 185^ he removed to £.nuzden, ^hcre a small society and school had

Digitized by VjOOQIC

524 Portrait Gallery.

latelj been commenced. He was made Buperintendent, and as far as his
strength permitted he laboured for the good of the sonls committed to his
care. He was much troubled with a shortness of breathing from a com-
plaint on his lungs, nevertheless, he was both a hard and a willing worker
for God, to which the scholars and teachers bear ample testimony, especiallj
'' his lads,** as he called them, several of whom are, it is hoped, in the way
to heaven, and destined ultimately to be his crown of joy before the Lord.
Having no home, and getting tired of lodgings, he married a pious widow, a
member of our Society, and it was hoped by many that her kind nursing
and unremitting attention to his welfare, by God's blessing, would lengthen
oat his useful life ; but the Lord ordered it otherwise, and both sorrowfully,
yet resignedly, bowed to His blessed will. He was reluctantly compelled to
give up all work, and for some weeks lived between hopes and fears, and
up to three weeks before his death, he felt a great desire to get better, bat
when Satan harassed him on that point, he fled to prayer with his dear
wife, and God delivered him, and enabled him to say, ^ Not my will, bat
thine be done.** Many visits were paid him by brother Orawshaw and
others, and many of his precious sayings might hie recorded, but a few must
soffice.

Perceiving that no medicine did him permanent good, and his end was
approaching, he gave himself up to constant prayer and praise. The last
Sabbath he was permitted to see, he said to his friends, *' Though I walk
through the valley and shadow of death, I fear no evil, for Gwl is with
me.** At night, the young men and lads called to see him, and he gave
them his last address amidst many tears. '' My dear lads, I am glad to see
you once more ; get religion and Keep it ; I would have been happy to have
laboored with you, but I shall be more happy to welcome you on the other
side of Jordan." Raising his eyes to heaven, he said with great power,
<* Bless the lads, bless the lads ! — be good lads, and meet me in heaven, then
we will rally round the throne of God to part no more.**

On Monday, it was evident his end was near, having suffered much
during the night, he felt and said, " that dying work was hard work, but
Jesus is with me — all is well ! Oh, I long to be with my Jesus ; glory be
to God, I shall soon see Him, and a number of my friends, to meet, to part
no more.*' " I am ready at the Lord*s call.** " Come, Lord Jesus." About
four o'clock in the afternoon, with great difficulty he struggled up stairs,
when laid down, he said, " Come, Lord, and release me.** While the '' Saint's
Best** was being read to him, he was so happy, and often shouted "Glory!
Glory ! Glory !** — until the people standing outside the house were solemn-
ized and overawed by the presence and power of God. His daughter said,
** Father, are you happy ?" He said, ** O yes, I am happy :*' — to another
friend, he said, " Jesus is a good Captain, He never lost a battle. Oh, reli-
gion ! it is sweet, it is ^ood— glory, nalleliijah !'* ' He lifted up his hand in
token of victory, and said, *^ I shall see Him when I get to glory !** He then
shook hands with Sister Crawshaw, and told her to meet him in heaven. In a
few minutes after, his happy spirit took its flight to the realms of glory, on the
2nd of March, 1857. He was 54 years of age. His death was improved by the
writer, at Xnuzden, and Over-Darwen, to large and affected audiences.

Blackburn, J. Thompson.

PORTRAIT GALLERY.

HUGH MILLER.

No announcement ever produced a deeper sensation of grief, seldom a
more staggering feeling of horror, than that which burst upon Edinburgh
on the 24tib of December last, and was speedily reverberated through Scotland

Digitized by VjOOQlC

Portrait Gallery. 525

and the whole Britisa empire — that Hugh Miller had fallen by a shot from
his own hand. The distressful emotion was scarcely lessened when the
Witness newspaper of the 27th, made it clear that the fatal deed must have
been committed during a frightful paroxysm of insanity, brought on by in-
tense and incessant straining of the mental powers, and that had his
life been prolonged, the state of the brain made it probable that confirmed
insanity would have clouded his later years. Even yet, the feeling of
wonder has not ceased, that a career so noble as his should have been so ter-
ribly ended.

In so brief a notice as this necessarily is, no justice can be done to the
character of Hugh Miller. His first appearance on the stage of pablic life,
took place under circumstances calculated to create a strong prejudice
against him in the minds of many. He appeared as a champion of Non-In-
trusion, and of the course of policy which led to the formation of the Free
Church of Scotland. Nothing added more to the popularity of the cause
which he advocated than the power with which he wielded his controver-
sial tomahawk, and the fascinating style in which he vnrote. By-and-bye,
the man of science overshadowed the controversialist, and the powers of Mr.
Miller became known over a wider sphere. His extraordinary devotion to
his own branch of science, the minuteness and completeness of the ac-
quaintance he showed with it, his rare powers of description and reasoning —
the poetical colouring with which he invested the driest details — and last
not least, the honest earnestness with which he brought all to bear on the
exaltation of God's character, and the vindication of God*s truth, — won for
him on all sides the admiration of the great, and the love of the good, over-
came the prejudices that had been raised against him, and placed nim in the
very highest rank of illustrious Scotsmen.

The story of his eai'ly life is ^iven in his autobiography, " My Schools
and Schoolmasters.*' The origm of his religious earnestness, and the
progress of his Christian life, under the ministry of a most gifted man, the
late Rev. Alexander Stewart, of Cromarty, are briefly, but most impres-
sively touched on. 'His native character was of the sturdy, shaggy, inde-
pendent, Scottish type. His acquirements in English literature would have
been remarkable in any man ; in a common mason, thev were all but mira-
culous. In private, his manners were most modest and unassuming. Per-
sons who felt themselves as pigmies before a giant, were surprised, almost
embarrassed, at the deference which he paid to them. His gentle tones and
kindly manner contrasted marvellously with the crushing energy of his con-
troversial style. Those who have heard him in family prayer, speak of the
majestic grandeur and holy awe of his devotions. His sympathies ran
intensely with the cause of vital religion, whether in his own country
or elsewhere. Not only did he regard it as in itself most precious, he
valued it also as the preserving element of all that was valuable to man.

The following passages, from a notice of Hugh Miller, in a provincial
Scottish JoumaL are well worthy of a wider circulation ; —

'I Hugh Miller s mind was Miltonic ; and we have often compared his
writing to that of the great Puritan. Like him, rich in illustrative lore,
and wielding a style of tremendous strength, he breathed also the same
spirit ; he had not a little of his fire ; he was as valiant a champion of
Hberty and truth ; and he never approached a divine theme but he felt
himself on holy ground. Many of his loftier passages have the stately
tread of the grand epic. Scotland may well place his name high on her
bright roll ; it is a name of wide renown in the world of science and
letters. It was with a feeling of high elation that, five years ago, in
one of the galleries of the Musco Naturale, of Turin, we read on the
descriptive label of a specimen, the name of ' Milleri*
But what Scotland most exults in, as that in him which is peculiarly

Digitized by VjOOQIC

526 Portrait Galiery.

i

her own, ia his self-elevation. In her northern situation, remote from
the more accessible avenues to distinction, he who gives a grand example
of the national character, in the conquest of the greatest obstacles of lot
and position, and in forcing for himself a passage to glorv— he it is, of all
her sons, whom she most delighteth to honour. Mr. Miller was a Scots-
man, though a broad-minded one, to his inmost heart, and a Scotsman to
the last. Pressed to accept literary preferment in the great capital, he
lived and died among us, devoted to his country, to the promotion of
her best interest, civil and religious, and to the illustration of her man-
ners, and of her geologic field : her very stones how dear to him ! Nor
does Scotland glory less in her noble son, that he never laid aside tbe
homely dress of his humbler days. It was with a glow of honest pride tkt
we looked on him, at a meeting of the British Association, as he moved
with his quiet manner among the polished savans, in his usual garb of
grey, which told his story so modestly ; and none more honoured than
he. And now that he is gone, and has left the glory of his example to
be a living power among us for many days, his simple manners, preserved
to the end of a career of brilliant distinction, will be mentioned in after
times as part of his renown, like those which add lustre to some of the
greatest names of antiquity — Aristides the just, and Cato the severe.

What a. mournful termination to a life of such noble strivings and lofty
aims ! It is hut a poor consolation, that, as medical men tell us, had he
lived, his mind must have become permanently deranged. But may not
the incipient tendencies to this, taken along with his keen susceptibilities
and earnest convictions, explain the dreadful severity of his invective?
And in another feature of the case, is thers not a useful warning ? Tbe
son of the bold seaman of Cromarty had a tinge of gloom in his compo-
sition. He was liable to be the prey of exaggerated fears. We were sur-
prised b^ his telling us, when we first knew him, that he carried a loaded
pistol with him every night he had to walk from the * Witness ' office to his
house. He would never write one line in favour of the best-laid scheme of
emigration : the unhappy fate of some relatives who dad emigrated, rising
darkly on his mind, deterred him. He could never refer to the subject of
emigration at all, without lifting a wail over his country like a faneitd
dirge. He strove with all his might, when the present Emperor of France
took the throne, to convince his readers of the certainty of a French inva-
sion. * I wish,* he said to Us earnestly, on our referring to his fears, * I wish
I could persuade others to fear it too.' The habit at last acquired fearful
strength, and played no mean part in the closing tragedy. It portrayed
the phantom which filled him with that shuddering self-horror ; and it
had already provided the deadly weapon. Let men of moody tempera-
ments sternly resist the temptation to indulge and nurse morbid fears. Bat
it is chiefly to his self-consuming ardour in his high pursuits that Mt.
Miller has fallen a victim. Disastrous eclipse ! when he of trust in God so
firm, and of holy fear so deep— so calm, too, and self-possessed — and so
gentle, that neither medical skill nor the anxious heart of afi^ection dreamt
of danger from his hand, — when he sank, smitten with bewildering dark-
ness. He felt a dreadful fate upon him, which drew him by a resistless
sympathy to Cowper's * Castaway,' in which he read his own case :—

' But I upon a rougher sea.
And whelmed in deeper gulfs than he.'

Our deep interest in the great departed, made more intense than ever
by the wild hurricane in which he perished like some daring explorer
tempting fatal seas, drew us, weary and travel-stained, to his open grave.
Religion and Literature, Science, Art, and Industry, stood around it. The
heart of Scotland was there. And when the green tnrf covered him, by the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

JPbrtrait Galhry. 527

reverent hand of one of the humble sons of toil, she threw the laurel on
his tomb."

GEOBGE STEPHENSON,

The illustrious Engineer, whose genius has done more to promote civDixa-
tion and commerce than that of any other man of the present age, was well
known to many of our readers. Spending his early days among the
pitmen, in one of our Northumbrian circuits, anecdotes of his inventive
powers while yet occupying the humble station of a brakesman, frequently
enliven the social circle at Westmoor, Wallsend, and other collieries.

This gifted man rose from among the sons of toil to a position princes
might envy. He was bom at "Wylam, near Newcastle, June 9, 1781. He
was the second of six children, two of whom were daughters. The parents
" belonged to the honourable and* ancient family of the workers." The
father was never anything more than a humble labourer, with a love for na-
ture and a fund of capital stories, which brought an audience of children of
various growths about him and his engine-fire. The mother was a "a rale
canny body," which in Northumbria, is the highest compUinent that can be
paid to woman. The early duties of George were to run on village errands,
to nurse his younger brothers and sisters, and to see that they did not get
run over by the horse-drawn coal waggons on the wooden railway in front of
the cottage. At eight years of age, he was promoted to be the same sort of
guardian over a neighbour's cows — a service which was munificently remu-
nerated at 2d, per day. The child thus early experienced the inexpressible
enjoyment of " earning his bread." Sweet is the produce of labour, though
it be but 2d. per day gained as a cowherd.

While he had his eye upon the cows, he modelled clay engines, and nou-
rished in his young heart the modest ambition of being employed as his
father was in some colliery. But this envied position was only reached by
slow degrees. He had first to be a hoer of turnips at 4c?. per day, and a
clearer of coals from stones and dross at 6rf. a day, before — at the age of
fourteen — he was promoted to be assistant to his honest old father, at
Dowlay, at Is. per day. All the children were by this time little bread-win-
ners, and the family income sometimes rose to 21. per week ; but that was
during years when the price of wheat ranged from 76s. to 130s. per quarter.
Nevertheless, George must have had nourishing food, or he never could have
performed the feat of raising sixty stones weight, or perhaps his require-
ments were small ; for, being appointed plug-man at 12s. a week, the boy
broke forth with the shout, ** I am now made a man for life !" A very few
years later, when he had saved his first guinea, he looked at it with honest
|oy, and exclaimed, " I am now a rich man !" It is of such stuff that your
uero is composed.

He could not read, even his letters ; but he imitated everything. He
loved the engine which he now had to tend, as a Mahratta cannoneer loves
his "gun." It was a pleasure to him to keep it clean, bright, and in
thorough working gear. He speedily rose above his father, at which his
sire was as proud as an old sexton might be who sees his son in a curacy.
His strong intellect was for ever at work on the subject of engines. Then
came the necessity for book-learning, and George went humbly to a night
school and learned reading, writing, and arithmetic, till he had not only
outstripped the adult class, but had exhausted his master. George was the
most inoffensive of good fellows ; and finally became " brakesman," and in
receipt of nearly a pound a-week, with a conviction that in his brain his
"banks were well furnished."

The brakesman, now of WiUington Quay, furnished a cottage, married
^anny Henderson, at Newburn Church, in 1802, and rode proudly home,
fifteen miles on horseback, with young Mrs. George Stephenson behind him

Digitized by VjOOQIC

528 Fortran Gallery.

on a pillion. They had a magnificent escort with tfiem : God's Angels and
heavenly blessings were above and about them.

For see ; soon in that humble bat happy cottage, there is a busy mother,
and a studious father with a child at his side, scattering sunshine bj
his smiles. However, accidents of course visit them; and their cottage is
damaged by fire, and still more by water, and soot, and smoke. George
looked round at the devastation, and characteristically began iiis repairs bj
setting the eight-day clock to rights ! The steam and the soot ]\ad clogged
the wheels, and Stephenson was uneasy till he had once m 4*e set tbe
machine in motion. He did this, however, so well, that he soon was widely
employed as the best ^' clock-doctor in the- country." He left that part of it,
in 18(^4, to proceed to West Moor, Killineworth, seven miles north of New-
castle. There, his employers recognised his qualities as a practical work-
man and inventor. There he laid the broad toundation of his lofty
renown, and there commences a new period in his eventful and honourable
history.

But sorrow came before renown. The sunlight of his house was taken
from him, and with the death of his wife darkness covered his heartL
He abandoned Killing worth for a whilej went a-foot into Scotland in
search of work, and returned heart-sore to be near his boy. He came
back to find hia father blind and helpless; but George took him to his
poor house, and, in order to support his parents, and to procure a good
education for his motherless child, he spent a portion of the nights which
followed days of labour in mending clocks and watches, and making shoes
and lasts, and in cutting out suits of clothes which the colliers' wives made
up for their husbands. ** Geordy Stevie's cut " is not yet out of fashion in
the district of Killingworth. Altogether, these were very hard times. He
had even to purchase a substitute tor the militia, for which he was drawn,
when substitutes were at war-prices ; but his heart never failed him.
"Perseverance" was his device and principle— and that and endurance

Eurchased him a richly compensating triumph. The ropes at the pit where
e was employed as brakesman wore out rapidly, and he invented a remedy
to prevent this wear. Engines became crippled atid powerless, and when
he suggested the means for both prevention and cure, official and helpless
engineers sneered at, and were obliged to have recourse to him. For one
invaluable service in rendering efficiency to an engine that had been pro-
nounced incurable, he received ten guineas, promotion with iucrease of
wages, and promise of future advantages. To a squad of eogiueera
" drowned out " of a coal-pit, he said he could erect a thing no bigger
than a kail-pot that should clear the pit. He kept his word, and they
accounted him a wizard. And the opinion seemed well founded, for bis
cottage was crowded with models, plans, drawings, and diagrams; and be
had, moreover (for he could turn his mind to anything), put all the
cradles in the district in connection with their respective smoke-jacks, and
thus made them self-acting. He had, besides, contrived to save a hundred
guineas. Well, it was the simple result of " perseverance." And another
result was his appointment at Killingworth Colliery as " engine-wrigbt,"
at 100/. a year. He was now fairly on his way to ** revolutionize by his
improvements and inventions, the internal communications of the civilized
world." He hardly looked so far himself ; but it was not long before his
great mind looked to great ends, and prophesied their accomplishment.
•Sagacious men listened, wondered, and were disposed to believe. Matter-
of-taot men shook their heads and doubted. Conceited men charged hifR
with conceit, and thought him a fool.

Though railway waggons still continued to be drawn by horses, varions
deep-thmking men began to talk of conveying passengers as well as goo^^
and that by locomotive power. I'he experiments were many, and so were

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

Portrait GaUery. 529

the failures ; I>Tit even these taught somethmff. Stephenson was the first
to realize the great &ct, accomi)lishing for the locomotive what James
Watt had done for the steam-engine. Lord Bavensworth (1813) supplied
him with the money for building the first locomotive. People called Lord
Bavensworth " a fool." Stephenson built his engine, and called it " My
Lord.'*

It drew eighty tons weight, at four miles an hour, and was about as dear
as horse-power. " So you see, nothing has been gained/' remarked the
scientific people. '^ Everything has been gained," said Stephenson, who
saw what was wanted, and inventing the " steam-blast," as the simple pro-
cess is called, by a turn of his magic, doubled his speed, and made at once
practicable all that has since been realized. This was in 1815, and the
world was as thoroughly revolutionised thereby as it was by the victory of
the same year on the plains of Mont St. Jean. It was, indeed, a year of
double triumph to Stephenson, for it was then that he produced his safety-
lamp for miners. He was a little before Sir Himiphry Davy, though the
baronet's lamp was found to be something more perfect than what was
called ^ the invention, claimed by a person, an engine-wright, of the name
of Stephenson." The controversy about the lamps has gone out, leaving
to the mechanic and the philosopher their respective dues ; but at Elling-
worth the men continue to pre&r the ** Geordy " to the " Davy." " It is
worthy of remark," says Mr. Smiles, his biographer, " that under circum-
stances in which the wire-gauze of the Davy-lamp becomes red-hot from
the high explosiveness of the gas, the Geordy-lamp is extinguished, and
we cannot but think that this fact testifies to the decidedly superior safety
of the Geordy."

When Stephenson talked of accomplishing high rates of speed by loco-
motives upon railways — not in his time, perhaps, but years after he was
dead (he lived to see it all), he was told that iron was incapable of adhe-
sion upon iron, and that roughness of surface was essential to produce
*' bite. He thought it over, communed with himself and his son, made
sun-dials and other scientific toys while he was thinking, and married
Elizabeth Hindmanh, a farmer's daughter. He sent his son to Edinburgh
University, and had the joy of seeing him bring back, in six months, the
prize for mathematics. He worked incessantly, persevered in the track
of his old thoughts, saw light, made use of it, got among men of enter-
prise, money, and larger views, and persuaded them that he was not so
visionary a mechanic as he was accoimted by many great philosophers,
and a number of persons who thought themselves qualified to Judge as
well as the philosophers, who were indeed no judges at all.

Great wants produce, under certain circumstances, great and desired
ends. Manchester was always wanting her cotton of Liverpool ; but the
two cities combined, canals, roads, and all, had not the means of transit
to supply the demand. Cotton, destined for Manchester, lay longer at
Liverpool than it had taken to come across the Atlantic. The manufac-
turers were often in despair ; the operatives as often in idleness, want,
and discontent. A railroad would remedy all this, but the dream of
effectmg more than this was not very fondly indulged in. Stephenson was
consulted, for his name, and his engine's name at Killingworth, had given
him a dignity and reputation which made of him an incSspensable person
in such a novel process. And what a time of it the surveyors had ; how
road trustees cursed them, how aristocratic canal proprietors, landlords,
and farmers, cAlled them by opprobrious names, how peasants pelted them,
how the very women and children assailed them with abusive words and
other missiles ! The assistants were mobbed and roughly treated ; the
chain-man was threatened with being thrown into a pit; sticks and guns
were presented at the man who held that terrible and detested mystery,

2 L

Digitized by

Google

the tlifodoUta ; aaj when he oould be oaught at ibdvantoge dualseri&g
oyer a style or gate, the sayage ruatiaa helped him oyer with a pitchfork.

The oppoeiUon waS| for a time, too strong for tJie proprietors, snd tbe
scheme for a railway between Manchester and Liyerpool was temporarily
suspended. Meanwhile, Mr. Pease had seen Stephenson*8 enjpne at work
at Killingworth, and the result was, not only the appointment of tk

. latter to uie o^ce of engineer to the " Quaker's line, - the Stockton and
Darlington Kailwa^, at a salary of £300 a year, but Mr. Pease entered
into partnership with him for the establishment of a locomotiye foundry
at Newcastle. Thus the mechanic became a master of men. He was a
kind yet firm master ; he respected the men's manhood, and thet^ respected
his mssterhood.

The line was opened for traffic in 1825. The first trip oom^gxiaed coalB,flonr,
and 250 living persons. There were thirty-eight yehieles in all, the whole
weiffht being about ninety tons. " Mr. Stephenson " droye the engine, and
locsd chroniclers were more out of breath than the locomotive, at recording
its occasional pace at ten miles an hour ! The Earl of Durham, then Mr.

, Lambton, looking sharply to his own profit, had forced a clause in the bill
for the regulation of this line, whereby the proprietors were compelled to
haul all coals tp Stockton for shipment at a hal^nny a ton per mile. This
low rate was fixed in order to protect his own coal shipped from Sunder-

. land. He thought, and the railway proprietors felt, that coal could not be
carried at such a i>rice without great loss. But the great free-trader, turned
protectionist in his own behalf, was exquisitely shortsighted. The rail-
way nroprietors were, in their turn, agreeably disappointed. They had
only looked to a limited coal-carrying ; but when they found themselves,
in course of time, called upon to carry half-a-miUion tons annually to the
sea-side, they saw with equal surprise and pleasure that the profits were
large, and that the low rate had had exactly the opposite effect to what
had been contemplated by the patriotic Mr. Lambton. And better atiil-
^' The anticipations of uie company as to passenger trafiic were in like
manner more than realized. At first, passengers were not thought of;
and it was only while the works were in progress that the starting of a
passenger coach was seriously considered. An old stage-coach, call^ the
'Queen Charlotte,* was purchased at a bargain, and mounted on a wooden
frame. This wss the entire passenger stock of the Stockton and Darling-
ton line on the day of opening, and for some time afterwards. The number
of persons then travelling between the two towns was indeed very incon-
siderable, and it was not known whether these might be disposed to
intrust their persons on the iron road. Mr. Stephenson, however, urged thit
the experiment of a stage coach was worthy t>f a trial; and so the 'Qae^"

, Charlotte ' was purchased and mounted^ The name of the coach was to
be altered, and Mr. Stephenson was asked what he thought they shoold
call her. '* The Expurriment,*' said he. in his strong Northumbrian
tongue, ai^d the coach was re-named the 'Experiment^' aocordinglj'
She had also emblazoned on her pannels the compax^'s arms,beansg

'tiie motto of ' Periculum privatum utilitas pMica.* "

Out of all this sprang the town of Middlesborough-on-Tees. We

remember the time, in 1825, when only one farm-house stood upon the

spot, around which lias spread the future metropolis of Cleveland, with«

population already approaching to 20,000.

Then came the renewal of the Manchester and Liverpool project It

'was very unacceptable to oanal proprietors, some of whom had been

^nually receiving for half-a-century, the whole amount of their ori£d&»l
mvestment i Stephenson^ was at the bead of the survey, and he and his
men were treated as rogues and vi^abonds by resident lords aiMi gentle-
men, Pamphlet^ and prophec^es^ hpth of ^^ W»i ftlt»nning mitme, were

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Portrmt GqU^. fifti.

acattered broftdoaat They threatened every pYJX m ^ ooiuiequeiDCQ of
railways, from a general conflagratioi^ to the c^^sation of laying eggs on
the part of the hens. And then these interested soothsayers sought com-
fort by tiying to feel that the whole thing was impracticable. When daily
the practicability became more apparent, canal proprietorB, so haughty
Drevioaslv, began to offer increased advantages of water carriage to ti^e
LiTerpoof and Manchester merchants ; but it was ** too late." In spite of
tremendous difiSculties, the railroad took shape, ** Very well," said the
Quarterly Review, ** such a road is ah absolute necessity ; but we scout
the idea of a general railroad, as altogether impracticable, • , , . The groas
exaggerations of the powers of the locomotive-engine, or to speak in plain
English, the sUam-carriage, may delude for a time, but must end in the
mortification of those concerned.'' Stephenaoa thought that there had
beet no exaggeration : and, though he was very much concerned, he was
never in the slightest degree mortified. On the contrary, they were
mortified who saw, and would fain have denied him his triumph.

Most of the practical and scientific men in the kingdom shared these
opinions, George Stephenson ^iled good-temperedly, and practically
proved them to be unfounded. The very Parliamentary Committee before
whom he was examined sneered at him as a lunatic, when he modestly
maintained that he could drive a locomotive, at the rate of twelve miles
&Qhour. The world of science shook its solemn head; and even gentle
religion, growing prejudiced, turned upwards her blue eyes, and seemed
to ask forgiveness for the blasphemy of this presimiptuous mechanic.

When be talked of getting over the difficulties of such an immense mass
of pulp as Chat Moss, the opposing counsel pronounced his ignorance as
inconceivable. So, to them, was his knowledge. That learnea gentleman,
Mr. Harrison, was very hilarious indeed at the idea of Irish members flying
up to a division in carriages at the rate of twelve miles an hours and
*Mr. Francis Giles, C.E.," affirmed that "»<> engineer in his senses would
go through Chat Moss if he wanted to make a road from Liverpool tp Man-
chester.** Mr, Giles said the carriages would all go to the bottom, and that ^
it would be necessary to take this moss completely out at the bottom in
order to make a solid road. Other C.E.'s designated Stephenson as that
luiprofessional person ; one styled his plans as *' very wild," and even the
learned counsel (Alderson) declared Stephenson*s project ** the most absurd
scheme that it ever entered the head of man to conceive. 1 say he never
had a plan," said Mr. Alderson ; '^ I do not believe he is capable of making
one.'* More than one such battle as this Stephenson had to fight ain^ler
j^nded ; but neither abuse, nor sarcasm, nor cajolery, nor piteous howling,
like that of Sir Isaac Coffin, could move him. Parliamentary permission
m obtained at last, only at a cost of nearly 30,000?. And now Chat
Moss fonns the very best part of the road between Xdverpool and Manches-
^r, and it was accomplished at a cost of 28,000/., whereas Mr. Giles, O.E.,
had set down that the formation of a road there ^^irould cost 270,000?.

Who then alive has forgotten the glory and the sorrow of the opening
%> the 15th of September, 1830 ] The triumph of the " unprofessional
person " was complete. It was rather perfected than diminished by the
fatal accidient to Mr. Huskisson. *' The * Northumbrian ' engine conveyed
the wounded body of the unfortunate gentleman a distance of about fifteeii
^iles in twenty-five minutes, or at ine rate of thirty^aix miles an hour.
This incredible speed burst upon the world with all the effect of a Uew and
^nlooked for phenomenon."

Rom the period of the opening ctf the Liverpool and Manchester Kail-
jyay to 1840— when the elder Stephenson resolved to retire into private
hfe— there were few great railway undertakings in this country with which
^ was not connected ; he was engaged, too, in many abroad. Up to the

2 L 2

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

532 Portrait GaUery.

year last mentioned, he had many a battle to fight— bnt he issaed forth
from his home, near Chesterfield, ffenerally to conqaer. CitiM spoit coimt-
less wealth to keep the rail from them ; and then spent more in bringing \s
their gates what they had denounced. It was not tiU 1842, when the Qaeen
began to nse the Windsor line, that the antipathies of the most prejndid,
except Colonel Sibthorp, were effectually set at rest. Before that time, in-
deed, he who had been accounted maa for getting so fast in advance of
the world, was stigmatised as "slow'* by "professional men," for asserting
that a speed of above forty, or from that to fifty miles an hour, was Dot
consistent with safety. He could construct an ensiue, he said, that shoold
complete one hundred miles an hour, but it would be practically useless.
He also advocated level lines and the narrow gauge. He was beloved by
his pupils and assistants ; and if bitterness ever did find expression in him,
it was when he was assailed by opponents whose professional education was
esteemed by them as superior to his training and experience, and on whom
he might have better afforded to expend his contempt than his wrath.

His retirement was only temporary^ and even then he was busy in pro-
moting the carriage of coals by railway, «nd other useful measures. Thirty
years after he had been a worker at a pit in Newcastle, he travelled from
that city to London, behind one of his own locomotives, in nine hours.
Livei*pool gave him, or itself, a statue. Municipalities asked him to hoDoar
them by accepting " the freedom of the city." Kings and queens ahroad
sat down with him to hear him familiarly describe the geological formations
of their kingdoms ; and the English Uovemment, ever forward to recog-
nise merit, and to reward it, offered him a superb piece of patronage— the
right to appoint the postman between Chatsworth and Chesterfield, which
official was to receive 12«. a week !

He did not care for honours. Leopold made him a Belgian knight ; but
the chevalier never wore the insignia. Knighthood was ultimately offered
him at home, but he refused the infliction. Some one asked him what bis
*' ornamental initials^' were, for the purpose of appending them to a dedica-
tion. " I have to state," said Mr. Stephenson, " that I have no flonrishes to
my name, either before or after ; and I think it will be as well if you merely
say 'George Stephenson.'"

In his closing years he lived the life of' a usefiil, active, country gentle-
man. He was never idle. In the business of his colliery property, linl^
works, and in correspondence and audiences with numerous persons who
resorted to him for advice or aid, he employed many hours. One thing
troubled him in his garden: his cucumbers would grow crooked. Tbey
baffled all his attempts, till he clapped the growing vegetables into glas
cylinders, and produced them perfectly straight. With this achieyement
he was delighted ; and he was not less pleased when he beat the Dnke
of Devonshire in his pines. , He was therefore no tuft-hunter. He was not
the man, when he dined with a baronet, to have a paragraph to that effect
inserted in the papers. When he did go, he was very acceptable companj.
Three years subsequently, after very gradual decay, this ** Nature's gentk-
man" was attacked by intermittent fever, of which he died, in the sixty-
seventh year of his age. We are sure that we shall only increafie our
readers* respect and satisfaction when we add that, to poor Richard Gnr,
of Newbum, who acted as bridesman when he married his first love, Fanny
Henderson, " he left a pension for life, which continues to be paid him."-'
Athenaeum,

Digitized by VjOOQIC

szs

REVIEW AND CRITICISM.

(xnomon of the New Testament By John A. Benqel, with
Notes Explanatory and Illustrative. Revised and Edited by Rev.
A. R. Fausset, M.A. Vols. I. and III. Edinburgh : T. and T.
Clark, 38, Greorge-street.

The " Gnomon " has long been regarded as one of the best critical
works in Grerman on the New Testament. It is singular that it has
been so long in finding an English translatoi'. We are indebted to
the enterprising firm of T. and T. Clark, of Edinburgh, for this as
well as many other treasures — the produce of the Evangelical party in
Protestant Germany. The edition before us follows that brought out
originally by Ernest Bengel, the son of the eminent critic of that
name. In this admirable work, the criticism displays a mind of great
breadth and of the most ample resources. As a tutor in a theological
seminary the Author had to go through the New Testament with his
pupils annually, and his custom was to prepare explanatory notes for
each lecture. Thus he went on accumulating materials for more
than twenty years, and these materials were laid largely under con-
tribution in the preparation of the work before us. In the " Gno-
mon" we behold the workings of a mind which disdained to be
trammeled by sectarian views and prejudices. Though a German, he
has none of the rationalism and naturalism for which many of his
learned countrymen have acquired such unenviable notoriety. He
was slow to submit to Creeds and Articles of Faith of man's devis-
ing, but was ever ready to bow implicitly to the authority of Divine
Revelation. In one of his works he observes —

The truth of God must be our dearest object, whether the popular
system accord with it or not. Far be it from us to wrest or force Scripture
into compliance with any favourite hypothesis. It never can be right to
invent dogmas, and then go to Scripture in order to prove them. It is better
to run all lengths with ^ripture truth in a natural and open manner than
to shift and twist and accommodate. Every single truth is a light of itself,
and every error, however minute, is darkness as far as it goes. Here, then,
is an argument for prizing the most simple truths as invaluable jewels.
Every Divine communication carries, like the diamond, its own light with
it, thus showing from whence it comes. No touchstone is required to dis-
criminate it. • ♦ ♦ ♦ The properties of Scripture may be summarily enu-
merated as follows: — 1. All of it is clear and intelligible enough to persons
who sincerely desire to conform the heart and life accordingly. 2. The
Word of Ood is found to be of special eJSect upon the human heart, for con-
viction, conversion, instruction, and comfort, in all ages and nations, and
hereby evinces — 3. Its Divine authority ; whence it loUows — 4. That it is
the standard for determining every controversy in matters of faith. 5. It
'^perfect as containing whatever is necessary to be known and believed in
order to salvation. 6. It is also profitable as containing nothing irrelevant
or useless. 7. The Providence of Gk)d has watched over it, so that it retains
Its purity unsullied, and can be enjoyed now as it ever could be from the
he^nning.

These are noble sentiments. Would to God, that all who pre-
sume to expound the Sacred Scripture? would adopt them rigorously in

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

534 Review aM CrUicism.

their examination of the Divine Record. Bengel^ not only uttered
Bucb views, but cotiscientiously followed them out in all Iheir con-
sequences. Our Author, in the critical parts of his work, is equallj
remarkable for the depth of his lore, and the acuteness of his criticil
faculty ; in the Exegetical, he is " unrivalled in felicitous brevity,
combined with what seldom accompanies that excellence, namely,
perspicuity." Terse, weighty, and suggestive, he, as a modem writer
observes, condenses more matter into one line, than can be extracted
from pages of other writers. This most valuable publication has our
best wishes. Certainly, every Minister should have it in his Library.

Papers far the People. No. I. London : Jddd atid Glass, New
Bridge-street and Gray^s Inn Road.

This is a cheap publication devoted to the elevation of the Working
Classes. The number before us treats two subjects, viz. : 1. The
Position of the Working Classes. 2. The Acquisition of Knowledge,
The Author is, or has been, one of the working class. He is evi-
dently a man of a warm heart and of a good head. We just give one
quotaticm, which will show the character of the work. He is attempt-
ing to supply the working man with motives to— *-

THE PURSUIT OF KNOWUeDGE UNDER DIFFICULTIBS,

Yott say, your want of time and means, is an effectual barrier to your
progress in the pursuit of knowledge. I can imagine sudi to be your
thoughts and feelings. I honestly Bvmpathise with you. I know what it
is to work hard for twelve hours a-day, sweating at every pore, and then
to return home weary and exhausted. I admit there is not much reb'sh
for the abstractions of philosophy and the technicalities of science then.
The bod^ wants repose ; and i don't much wonder you should sometimes
£b^ inclmed to neglect the cultivation of your minds, and stroggle od
through life as best you may. But is that wisdom ? Is that fortitude !
We should never lose confidence in ourselves, or despair in an attempt to
improve our ]>06itioQ. Something higher and nobler than anything we have
yet attained is aecessible to us. Steadilv fixing our minds upon it, v«
should aspire high — have an onward and upwwi aim. Other men have
been situated as we are, and by manly courage and persevering effort^
they have gradually risen from poverty and obscdrity to wealth and
honour. Their example should stimulate us. What hsa been adiiered
by others, is not unattainable by us. We have the same powers of n&torei
and perhaps greater opportunities of position than niany whose names are
left upon n<mourable record. We should, therefore, imbibe their spiritr-
resolutely enter into their pursuits. It was a maxim of Sir William Jones.
(me of the greatest men of nis age, as a poet, a scholar, and a lawyer, tlut
what had been done by others, could be done by himself. He resolred
upon neglecting no opportunity of improving himBelf, and was never de-
terred from any pursuit by its difficulties. As the result, he acquired a
knowledge of twent;f-eight languages, and of various subjects in literatare,
art, and science, while discharging the duties of a lawyer. He died at the
early a^e of forty-eight, and up to within a few weeks of his death, he vaa
engaged in studying the grammars of several Oriental languages. Mv'T
similar exami>le8 of devotedueas, industry, and success, in the ]>ni8nit oi
knowledge might be quoted from among the working-classes, in which
you will see that others have struggled with

poverty and difficiuty, as yoa

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Bmnxw mnd Criticism. 595

are now domg, and yet they have raised themaelyeft to a position of bocAbX
and literary eminence.

There was Hsyne, a German critic, and the eon of a poor man. He wished
when a boy to learn Latin ; the son of a schoolmaster offered to teach
him for fonrpenoe a week, bat he had no money. His mother one day
sent him for a loaf to his godfather's. He was crying. The baker learnt
the cause* and offered to pay the schoolmaster's fee. The lad was over-
whelmed with joy. He ran along the street tossing his loaf in the air,
till he had the misfortune to toss it into the dirt. His mother's scolding
brought him to his senses. He applied himself to learning ; fought his
way through untold difficulties, and became one of the greatest scholars
of his country. A native of France, named William PcsteUus, was a
domestic servant in a college. During his leisure houre he applied himself
to study, and soon became a very learned man; Once a wretehed-looking
man wandered through Germany singing ballads, then b^ggi^, then
weaving. His name was Wolfgang Musculus. He began to study Hebrew,
and became one of the Urst c^' Hebrew 8eho]ar& You have heard of Dr.
Franklin. He was self-taught, and from a printer's boy he rose to be a
senator, and an ambassador, and has benefttod the world with his wisdom «
There was Thomas Sinipson, a countryman of our own, a poor weaver^
turned out frcmi home because he paid more attention to his books thau
to his shuttle, and took up his lodgings with a poor widow in Derby^ whom
he subsequently mitrried out of gratitude. He became acquainted with :
a pedlar, who pretended to have some knowledge of astrology. The pedlar
lent him a few mathematical books, and such was the devotedness of Siuip-
son, that soon the poor weaver became a professor of mathematics, membeir
of the Koyal Society, and author of several mathematical books. Old John
Bunyan was a tinker, became converted, improved his mind, began to
preach, and wroto in Bedford Gaol his immortal all^ory, ** Pii^m'iB Pro-
gress." A lad named Edmund Stone was employed to carry mortar for
masons. He was working one day at the Duke of Argyle's mansion, and
occasionally refreshed his mind by looking at Newton's ** Principia.*' The
Duke was walking in the garden and saw the book. He supposed it had
been taken from his own library, and ordered its return. Stone appeared
and claimed the book. *' Yours ?" replied the Duke, ** do you understand
geometry, Latin, Newton ? " "I know a little,'* was the reply, and then
the lad detailed the progress of his education. A servant had taught him
to read, and, with a Knowledge of the twenty-four letters of the alphabet,
he thought he could learn anything. The duke encouraged him, and ulti-
mately he became author of several valuable works, and a member of
the Royal Society. Our immortal Shakspere was the child of a poor
man, while Robert Bums, of Scottish celebrity, was a ploughman, and
often struggled amidst the sorrows of poverty. Ferguson acquired a
knowledge of the stars with a string and beads, while tending sheep^ aud
^erwards constructed a celestial tolescope. You have heard of Sir
Aichard Arkwright. He was the thirteenth child of a poor man, and a
penny barber till he was thirty years of age. He began to dye hair for
ladies. He then made an attempt to obtain perpetual motion. He failed ;
hut in his failure invented the spinning machine, which immortalised
his name and benefitted the world. George III, conferred upofi him
the honour of knighthood, and the barber's wife became Lady ArkwHght.
A man named Samuel Parkes was a petty grocer ; he went to lA>ndon
J^hen forty years of s^e, commenced a course of study, and published " A
Chemical Catechism," which brought him 6000?. Robert Bloomfield wwi
a boy attending shoemakers in a garret. He became a poet, and composed
his poem, entitled •* The Farmer's Boy," while workitig at his trade. Dr.
Axintx Clarke was apprenticed to a line&draper. He hated the trade-
Digitized by VjOOQ IC

536 Review and Criiiciim.

offered himself to John Wesley—became, by self-edncatioD, a commend-
able scholar— published a Critical Commentary on the Bible, with many
other important works — ^had a diploma and other degrees conferred upon
him, and was a member of several learned societies. Dr. Carey was a
shoemaker. He taught himself, and became professor of Oriental langnages
in India, under the British Grovemment. Samuel Drew was a shoemaker
, studying metaphysics as he stuck to his last. Then editing a magazine,
and publishing elaborate books on the " Existence of Grod," the " Besur-
rection of the Body,*' and the •* Immortality of the Soul." Professor Lee
was apprenticed to a country carpenter. He learnt fourteen langnages
whilst employed at the bench, and though he had never studied in college,
he became Professor of Hebrew and Arabic in the University of Cam-
bridge. Professor Farraday was a poor bookbinder. He was binding a
volume of an Encyclopaedia, and met with an article on electricilr. It
laid the foundation of his future greatness. Sir William Herscbell was
the son of a music master. He entered the band of a regiment, then
became organist at Halifax, and afterwards at Bath. He taught himself
astronomy, and then constructed a telescope and became the discoverer of
worlds, one of which is often called by his name. There was Qeorge Stephen-
son, of whom an interesting memoir has recently been published. He was
the son of poor parents, and was employed at a colliery in the north of
England until after his marriage. He was industrious and enterprising,
acqidred a knowledge of different subjects, invented a safety lamp con-
temporaneously with Davy, gave birth to our system of railway travelling,
and was honoured by his countrymen and the world. Have you heard of
Dr. Kitto ? He was taken from a workhouse, poor and deaf, yet he worked
his way to be one of the first biblical scholars of the age. Home, author
of the celebrated ** Introduction to the Critical Study of the Scripture,"
a book which contains a mass of learning, was a common shoemaker.
During our last oolitical election, you woula sometimes see and hear the
name of Alexanaer Dumas, a Frenchman, who was then in London, taking
notes of our election proceedings for French newspapers. Well, that man
at twenty-one years of age had nothing to do, and knew scarcely anything.
He resolved to rise ; he studied sixteen hours a day, and he is now a dis-
tinguished traveller, novelist, and poet.

What, then, do you say to these things ? More of such instances conld
be adduced were it necessary. The above have been selected almost at
random ; and are they not sufficient to show that, despite all outward dis-
advantages, you may rise to social comfort, to literary fame ? And in nev
' of such facts do you not feel inspired by a desire and resolution to work
your way up, to become rich in knowledge, in virtue, and in honour ? Try,
and you shall succeed. Advantages crowd upon you which were unknown
to many of the illustrious men of a former age. Mechanics* Institutions,
select classes, cheap publications, efficient teachei*s, are accessible to jon.
Will you slight the example others have set, abuse the gifts they lahoured
to bestow, neglect the opportunities and powers which call out for im-
provement ? No, you won't. I have faith in your resolution and fortitude,
and faith in your success. You will gird up the loins of your minds ; yo^
will henceforth combine mental with physical toil, literary with mercantile
pursuits. A brilliant future is before you. Chaplets of honour and i '""

of victory await your noble efforts. Brethren ! have faith in yourselves-
faith in each other— jGsiith in your destiny — ^faith in Grod 1 Nothing can
then prevent your success. I feel honoured in being associated with yon.
Accept my humble sei'vices. It is my ambition to aid in the development
of your powers, in the enhancement of your joys. Will you grant me
your sympathy, favour me with your co-operation ? I anticipate a &T0^^
able response. You will not disappoint meH»yon wHl join me in literary
pursuits.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Review and Criticism. 537.

Such facts— largely used by Lord Brougham long ago— one would*
think, should be adapted to stimulate the application of the most
lethargic, and to promote, in an eminent degree, the taste for reading
works of solid information. We shall be glad to meet ^' Onesimus '*
again in his new vocation.

TJie Evangelical Clergy of the Church of England. By the Bev.
WiLLiAH Thobn, WiNCHESTEE. London : William Freeman,
Fleet-street.

This is a work in which the venerable William Thorn professes to
try the superior claims to Christian confidence of the Evangelical
Cler^ of the Church of England, by " the Word of the Lord." The
examination is carried on in a letter to a Dissenting gentleman. Our
Author's work is divided into four sections. Under the firsts he ex-
amines the motives which induce certain Dissenters to worship occa-
sionally with the Evangelical Clergy. Under the second^ he shows
the anti* Scriptural position, assumptions, teachings, and doings of the
Evangelical Clergy. He considers, under the thirds the apologies
usually made to extenuate the unscriptural teachiags and doings of
the Evangelical Clergy, together with the usual excuses of enlight-
ened Churchmen for regularly attending the State worship. The
fourth and last section is devoted mainly to the discussion of the fol-
lowing questions :— 1st. Were an Independent Minister to teach, act,
&c. like the Evangelical Clergy, how would he be treated ? 2nd,
Were the like apologies to be made for him as for the Evangelical
^^^^^y how would he be regarded ? Mr. Thorn's Tracts on the
State Church are thorny productions. His work on Baptism has
also been thought, by our Baptist friends to be somewhat thorny ;
but we imagine his investigation of the superior claims of the Evan-
gelical Clergy will be felt by the parties alluded to, to be most thorny
of all. There is a certain matter-of-fact character about nearly all
Mr. Thorn's writings which must make him a peculiarly disagreeable
antagonist. Some things in this work will not command
the unqualified approval of the general reader ; but, on any
matter connected with State Churchism in any of its aspects, Mr.
Thorn is 'entitled to be heard with deep respect. The book will be
perused by our readers with considerable iaterest.

The Shehinah, By William Cooke« London: J. B. Cooke, 21,
Paternoster-row.

Our readers will remember that we bestowed a passing glance on
this work a few months ago. Want of space at that time prevented
a more extensive notice. We now gladly return to the subject. The
purpose of the Author is to discuss '^ the Presence and Manifestation
of Jehovah under the several dispensations, from the Creation of
Han to the Day of Judgment." He discusses this great subject
under five heads. First, the Shekinah as rhanifested in the Ante-
diluvian Age. Second, the Shekinah under the Patriarchal and Jew-
ish dispensation. Third, the Shekinah in the Incarnation and Media-
torial work of the Son of God. Fourth, the Shekinah in the Person
and Offices of the Holy Spirit. Fifth, the Shekinah in the Future

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

588 Notes pf Progren tn the East

♦.

World* To the Author^s able Treatise on " the Shekiiiah,'* he has
appended Dissertations on *<the Cherabim,'* and <<the Urim and
Thummim.*' We scarcely know, to which, of these treatises the
highest merit attaches. The whole volume bears marks of a mind of
considerable originality and force, and of a heart earnestly in sympathy
\rii\L the great verities of our most Holy Religion. We have not often
perused a work adapted to awaken a deeper or more enduring interest.
We cordially recommend it to all our readers, as adapted to ^ilarge
their minds and to improve their hearts.

NOTES OF PBOGBESS IN THE EAST.

A Railway Journey in India.

That brief whistle, that strong, silent pull, that gradual glide, that mo&-
otonous rattle, have nothing in them, here in the plains of Bengal to dis-
tinguish them from the same sounds and sensations so often experienced
amid the factories of Lancashire, the red cliffs and blue, sounding waves of
South Devon, the vine-bearing pla^ of France, the rugged passes of Sty-
ria, the tropical hills of Havannah, or the wild jungle of Western America.
The train travels at a rate varying from fifteen to twenty miles an how.
About every eight miles. occurs a station with some uncouth name. We
look out as we pass one of these ; the long straight line of iron rail still re-
tains its familiar look of civilisation, but all its circumstances have become
entirely Oriental. The station is a little white bungalow, with green oijen
doors ; its name " Hooghly," is written in those three characters which
suggest at every turn to the most careless traveller the strange fate of
Indui : the English, plain, business-like capital letters, looking as if they
were conscious of belonging to the conquering people ; the graceful Persian
curling from right to left, emblematic of the politeness, the facile dexterity^
perhaps, too, of the intrigue and instability, of Central Asiatics, powerful
enough to impress on a susceptible people a manner which makes eveir
peasant of Hindostan more or less a gentleman, but unable to cope with
the plain, honest force which is represented by the Koman capitals ; and
lastly, the mystical Bengalee, the vernacular or the province, closely allied
to every vernacular tongue all over India, which here at the Hooghly
station, is read by thousands ; while of the two conquering lan^ges one
is read by hundreds, the other by units ; the language of the conquered
million, yet containing in it the roots of more than half the words spoken
by conquering English, close akin to the ancient Sanskrit, that source be-
yond which the stream of human language has not yet been traced BrA
the train moves on, and, so far as it is concerned, the conqueriog
English has it all its own way. The ancient Sanskrit is stUI represented
by every one of the dull objects "which meet the traveller's eye. The un-
graceful palm, so strangely associated in European minds, with Oriental
beauty ; the green, melancholy plain ; the occasional glimpses of the
yellow, sluggish, corpse-bearing river— these are the witnesses to the&ct,
so strange, yet so forgotten — ^that where the English steam-engine now
travels, there, just one century ago, the Nawab of Bengal was marching
down on Calcutta to perpetrate the Black Hole massacre— that tragedy
from which the Anglo-Inaian empire took its birth. Here, centuries ago>
the Hindoo walked and sat and smoked, worshipping his god Permanence,
even as he walks and sits and smokes and worships the same god to-day*
Praserfor December.

Digitized by VjiOOQ IC

Rdiffiotts Intelligence. 58d

!the Chinese Language in JRoman Characters.

Binhop Boone, of the American Episcopal Missionary Society, who is
settled at Shanghai, states that books are in preparation to teach the na-
tives to read their dialect by means of the Roman alphabet. The books
written in the literary style, which requires a knowledge of some three
thousand characters to read and write it with any degree of facility, are
quite inaccessible to the masses. A large number of the converts are illite-
rate, and, from want of early culture, could never be induced to attempt to
master the difficulties of the written language. By means, however, of the
substitution of the Boman letters, they may learn to read the Gospel in i^
few months. When such assistance is obtained, it is. Bishop Boone states,
much easier to learn to read the Shanghai dialect of Chinese than a Euro*
pean language, since there are only six hundred and fifty different spellings,
which are made up of a few final syllables, varied by a change of initiald)
as, for instahbe, b, d, f, h, j, k, as initials applied to the finals ang, ong, ung.
The pupil has, therefore, only to learn such words as bong, dong, fong, &c.,
without being troubled with difficulties in spelling. The American Bible
Society has furnished the type necessary for carrying out this new me-
thod of pitting in China.

RELIGIOUS INTELLIGENCE.

LEEDS CIRCUIT.

The ^opening services in connexion with our new Sabbath-school and
Preaching Room, in East-street, Far-bank, Leeds, took place on Thursday
evening, August 27th, when a sermon was preached by the Rev. Henry Tar-
rant, of Manchester. On the Sunday morning following a public Prayer
Meeting was held at seven o'clock, and in the forenoon at half-past ten, and
in the evening at six, sermons were preached by the Rev. S. Sellars, of
Barnsley. Also in the afternoon, at half-past two o'clock, by our newly ap*-
pointed Minister, the Rev. £. Watmough. A delightful and gracious influ-
ence pervaded the iij^ole of the meetings, and many were led to exclaim, " It
is good to be here."

On the Thursdav evening an aged Individual, one of the contractors for the
building, was deeply convinced, under the Word, of his state as a sinner, and
the next day, whilst his son, who is superintendent of the school, and another
of our friends were engaged in prayer with him, he experienced the pardoning
love of God. Also, at the Prayer Meeting at the close of the Sunday evening
service, many were found seeking, and several obtained mercy through the
blood of our Redeemer, in the forgiveness of their sins, and thus God, at
the very first services, has owned our humble endeavours.

On Monday evening, August 31 st, a public Tea Meeting was held, when
nearly four hundred persons sat down and partook of an excellent repast, the
trays having been furnished gratuitously by the Ladies. After tea, Robert
Plummer, Esq. (in the unavoidable absence of Edward Baines, Esq.) was
called to the chair, who, in a very neat and encouraging speech introduced
himself to the meeting, and then called upon the Secretary to read the Report,
which stated that the school was commenced about the year 1827, in a room in
the Steander-bank, where it remained until the year 1842, when, in consequence
of the dilapidated state of the building, they were obliged to leave. From
there they removed to a room in Cross Mill-street, which they occupied until
August, 1855, when notice was served upon them to quit, the premises being
I'equired for other purposes, and again the teachers w^e obliged to look out
another refuge, which was found m the third story of a mill, ascended to by
wood steps outside^ bot^ dangerous and difficult, and, when entered, nearly

Digitized by VjOOQIC

540 SeUffhus Intelligence.

altogether unadapted to their purpose. In the whole of these rooms they
never had accommodation for infant or select classes. The teachers had long
felt these disadvantages, they had talked over them and prayed over them,
and at last thev resolved, by the help of Almighty God, to make an effort to
build a new scnool. Preparations were commenced a year and a half ago,
and the result is, we have got a large and spacious School Room, sixty feet
Ipnp by thirty feet wide, with kitchen, bedroom, scullery, three vestries, and
an infant class-room, with other conveniences attached, at a cost of £830. The
undertaking was a great one for a few humble individuals ; but, nothing
daunted, they went forth, knowing that *' the earth is the Lord's and the fulness
thereof, the gold and the silver are His, and the cattle upon a thousand hills,"
•nd that He hath the hearts of all men at His disposal, and could inspire them
to give liberally towards this noble object. Nor did we trust in vain, or spend
our strength for nought, for by the subscriptions of our friends and the po-
ceeds of a Bazaar got up by the Ladies, with collections at the opening services
and surplus of tea meetings, we have already raised the sum of £530. After
the reading the Keport the following Ministers and Gentlemen addressed the
meeting— Bev. W. Dawson, £. Watmough, £. Irwb, Esq., J. P., M. Johnson,
W. Kinder, J. Horton, J. Sedgwick, J. Cliff, and Wm. Danby. Also, at inter-
vals in the course of the evening, a selection of sacred music from the Mes-
siah and Creation was performed in a masterly style by a choir of upwards of
thirty voices (who gave their services gratuitously), under the leadership of
Mr. WiUiam Tetley ; his son, Master George Tetley, presiding alternately at
the harmonium and pianoforte. The effect produced dv some of the choruses
was really magnificent ; but the last, the Grand Hallelujah Chorus, appeared
almost to electrify the people. After a vote of thanks had been given to
ladies, singers, and chairman, the meeting was brought to a close by singing
the Doxology and prayer being offered up, and thus ended one of the largest,
best, and most exciting meetings ever held in the Leeds Circuit.

In the course of the week following a note was received by Brother Horton,
one of the superintendents, from a gentleman whose name we have a longing
desire to mention, but who forbids it, enclosing a further subscription of £20,
the donor having previously given £10. The teachers earnestly hope that
this example may be followed by others who have the good things of tbii
world at their disposal ; and by their own continued efforts they expect to see
the building free from debt. Tonirards the accomplishment of this object the
Ladies intend holding a Bazaar as early as convenient, when any article from
friends in the other parts of the Connexion will be thankfully received.

Preachings have been established on the Sabbath ^evenings, the con-
gres^ations have been lar^e almost to overflowing, a stand has been made
against Popery and its twin sister Pusevism, which has made such rapid pro-
gress in that part of^the town and neighbourhood of late years ; the Word has
been preached with might and power, the influence of the Holy Spirit has
been felt, souls have been saved, the name of our dear Redeemer glorified,
and our humble endeavours crowned with abundant success.
To God be all the praise.

WiLLiui Wbbt.

GROSVENOR ST. CIRCUIT, BRADFORD NEAR MANCHESTER

It will be gratifying to many of the readers of the Large Magazine to know
that the cause of God is still progressing at Bradford. Eight eventful years
have rolled away since the chapel was erected and the school-room opened
(temporally for preaching) and religious instruction. During that time we
have not been idle. There has been a gradual progress in every department
The society has increased both in numbers and status. At our last quarterly
meeting they were reported by the superintendent preacher as sixty-nine full
members and three on trial. The chapel was opened in December 1849.
The congregation and pew-holders have been continually improving, the first
years receipts for pews and sittings were 4/. 13«. 9<f., the last year ending
December 1856 amounted to 15/. 8<. Zd*, and by the close of the presept

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

Religious Intelligence. 541

year we hope to realize 20/. In order to increase the number of pew and
seat-holders, the trustees resolved to have the chapel beautified and some of
the pews altered so as to give them an equal elevation. The chapel was
closed for two Sundays, service being conducted in the school-room, and on
Sunday Sept. 27th the chapel was re-opened, when the Rev. W. Beckett of this
Circuit preached two excellent sermons during the former part of the day,
and the Rev. A. Gilbert our superintendent preached in the evening. The
collections at the three services amounted to 7/. 12f. Zd, Monday evening
following was chosen for a public Tea-party, which was attended b^ a large
number of the forgemen and their families employed at the Bradford Iron-
works. Mr. W. Johnson, one of the proprietors, having engaged to let his
men have the tickets at 9cf. each instead of 1<. the regular price — he paying
the difference which amounted to 30«. A greater interest was excited on this
occasion on account of the loss of eight persons lives, four caused by the
explosion of a boiler at the forge, and four by the falling in of earth in the
shaft of a new coal-pit belonging to the same firm. Some of the bereaved
relatives were present. Tea being over the friends adjourned from the school-
room to the chapel. After singing and prayer, W. Johnson, Esq. was called
upon to preside. The secretary to the trustees read a short report giving a rapid
review of the origin and progress of the chapel and society, and stating that in-
dependent of 200?. borrowed on the chapel, a sum of about 30/. was required to
wipe off the debt due to the treasurer and meet the expenses incurred in altering
and beautifying the chapel. The meeting was then addressed by the Rev. A.
Gilbert ; W. Beckett ; and R. Harley and bj^ Messrs. Gault, Cleasby, Murray,
Moreland and Whiteley. The secretary waited upon various friends during
the speeches, and obtained subscriptions, which with the profits of the Tea
Meeting, the Sunday services, and hi from Adan Murray, Esq. one of the
speakers, amount to 21U

The 3rd resolution moved by Mr. James Moreland, and seconded by Mr. J.
Whiteley, created a deep and earnest feeling in the Meeting, and deserves the
attention of the Connexion at large as showing the livelv interest which true
masters take in the spiritual welfare of their work-people and their families.

Resolved '' That owing to the large increase of population, the dangerous
nature of the employment of many of the people, and the want of true
religion so evident on every hand, this Meeting deeplv feels the need of a
resident Minister in this township, who shall visit from nouse to house and
care for the spiritual wants of the people, and considering that Messrs. R. and
W. Johnson of the Bradford Iron Works have so nobly and liberally given
30/. per annum for three years towards the support of such resident Minister,
this Meeting resolves to raise by subscriptions and otherwise, a further sum of
30/. annually, to meet the expence of employing a home missionary without
delay."

The adjourned quarterly meeting of Grosvenor-street Circuit held on
Monday evening, Oct. 12th, came to a unanimous decision, '* to engage the
services of a Circuit Missionary, who shall reside at Bradford, and devote his
energies for the best moral and spiritual interests of that township." Thus
far God has prospered the work of our hands in. this locality, and our earnest
prayer is that He would send us the ** right man" that he may be in his
"right place."

I conclude this account by stating that the Sabbath-school numbers more
than 300 scholars, that nearly all our teachers and office-bearers are members
of the Church, and that during the nine months of our Missionary year we
raised 18/. towards the Home and Foreign Missionary Society.

Wm. Fletcher.
TAVISTOCK CIRCUIT.
Calbtock.

The first anniversary, of our Sunday-school here, was held on Sabbath, Sep-
tember 13th, 1857, when two sermons were preached by the Rev. E.D. Green»
and a gracious influence attended the delivery of the word.

On the following day the juveniles were regaled with tea-cake, after which
a public tea-meeting was held, about a hundred sitting down to '' the social
cup."

.Digitized by VjOOQIC

549 BeUgums Intelligence.

The material man haviQir been sratified, and the trays remoTe4» the chapel
then became completely iiued with an interesting company, who now seugbt
a gratification of a mental and moral kind.

The chair waa then taken by Mr. J. Reed, who gave a short narration of
the rise, nrogress, and present state of the school, the whole ftimiidiiiig
considerable ground for thankfulness and hope.

The meeting was then addressed by Messrs. Barthe and Johns, after which
our minister, Edwin D. Green, gave an exciting address for nearly an hour*
when the interesting meeting broke up highly pleased with every feature of
this our first Anniversanr. ,

After paying for the children's tea, &c., the net yield of tlie services amounts
to something near 42. May our success still increase.

PIMLICO CHAPEL, WESTMORELAND-STREET, SEVENTH
LONDON CIRCUIT. '

The first anniversary of this place of Divine worship was celebrated en Sun-
day and Monday, Oct. 11 and 12. On the Sunday, appropriate sermons were
preached in the morning and evening, by the Rev. Matthew Baxter. Editor of
the Connexional Magazines, and the Rev. W. Wm. Griffith, of Derby, respec*
tively ; after which collections in aid of the Trust Funds were made from the
numerous congregations who attended; and on Monday there waa a tea-
meeting in the school-room beneath the chapel, followed by a public meeting
in the cliapel itself. At the latter, proceedings were commenced by sinking
the hymn—

" Great is our Redeeming Lord,
In power, and truth, and grace,"

and by the supplication of the Divine blessing ; after which the chair wm
taken, pursuant to announcement, by the respected ex*M«F« for Southwark,
Apsley Pellatt, Esq,

Afte? some introductory remarks from the Chairman on the vast difi^erence
in the appearance of the place since he had last had the pleasure of being
there, and of laying the first stone of the building,

Mr. John Cuthbertson proceeded to address the meeting, including^ in the
course of his speech, the chief results of the Treasurer's report The nucleus of
the church that now met in that chapel had formally worshipped in a room in
Belgrave-place, where they were comparatively few in number, and had eiyoyed
the use of their chapel*room without cost. God, however, had prospered
them, and they had seen it to be their advantage no less than their duty to
erect a chapel and seek a success of their own. After some deliberation the
pfround on which that, chapel stood had been finally fixed upoui and the place
Itself was opened for Divine worship on October 9th, 1$56. The coat of
erecting and furnishing the chapel, lighting* warming. &q., had been, in idl»
2,1671 Towards this there had heen received from all source^ IfiOHL df. l<i«
and there remained due, on mortgage and for mondy borrowed, 865/. ; ao tha^
having met the various demands upon him, the Treasurer was at the present
time in advance some 3/. odd. Such* then, wat the position of the capital ac-
count, which, however, it was not intended should go into their current caah.
But what was of more importance was to learn now the vessel, ^wbicb had
thus been built and launched, bad, during the past year, been propeeding on
its voyage s and for that purpose they had to do with the current aapount.
Looking at this, it was found there had been received : for seat-tents during
the year, 78/. I7s. 4</. ; proceeds of collections, 23/. 12«« 8(f. ; on account of the
Sabbath-schools, 7/. 12<. ; making a total of about llO/. ; out of which 93/. 12«.
7d. had been paid, and there were liabilities to the amount of 112L 1^. still to
be paid, togetner about 105/. ; and, leaving, therefore, as a result of the first
year's proceedings, a balance in favour of the Trust Fund of about 5/. This
he thought a favourable report ; but, in order to make the result of their year's
labours still more so, tlie trustees would be glad to commence by pa^nfr off a
portion of the debt. In order to explain how it was proposed to do toi0» it waa
necessary to state, that another piece of ground, on which it bad been origin-
ally proposed to build the chapel, had been taken previouily to the ivesent

Digitized by VjOOQIC

one. which ground was now snhlet to respectahle tenants, and mortgaged to a
Building Society, the rent received being applied to the liquidation of the mort-
gage, so that, in twelve years, it would be free from incumbrance* The money
already paid^ in this wa^ was entitled to be [considered to the credit of their
capital account, and, with it, if they could raise, about 15/, to pay that evening,
they would have paid 5Q/. off the debt on their capital account during the first
year of their existence.

Mr. Tr Chamberlain, of Windsor, moved the, first resolution, which tendered
the thankfuhiess of the meeting to the Great Head of the Church, for the
success which had attended them during the past year, and expressed their
belief and hope that He would be where His name is recorded, and that they
would do as well in the year to come. Speaking of attachment to particular
places of worship, while recognising: that God esteemed " before all temples,
the unright heart and pure," he still thought that many Christians in these
days had gone too far from the opposite extreme of veneration which former
ages— ages of darkness— had pam to these buUdings, and had not done alto-
gether well in being content to worship God in the ungainly buildings some of
them had employed. He, therefore, liked these chapel anniversaries, which
brought a church together within their common place of Worship. Christianity
was the only equality of which the world was capable under the present dispen-
sation, since it alone.could unite classes without confounding them, making the
whole church members of one family, and God Ihe father of them all.

The Rev. Wm. Griffith seconded the resolution. One could not, he said,
but feel pleased to find exertions crowned with such success as had attended,
those of the friends at Westinoreland- street ; but they must remember that
their work, so far from being done, was only just begun ; the foundation, as it
were, laid, and just a few layers of the erection placed upon it ; the gpreat
object of their building remaining yet to* be entered upon. Of that he
he bo{)ed the longest lived there would never see the completion, but thatL
until time itself should be no more, the work they had commenced would
continue with growing energy. It was well to erect their chapel, and see
their way over their financial difficulties, as they had done that night ; but the
great and important business was, to get the living temples within the material
building; and in this also he trusted they would be eminently successful.
Proceeding to speak of two or three things somewhat in the nature of warn-
ings* Mr. Griffith was glad that the resolution recognized Christ as the sole
Head of the Christian Church. They had heard that there was but One
Master, and they must allow of no other relationship among themselyes than
that of Christian brotherliood, no ranks nor classes, but maintain true equality,
acknowledging neither the Pope nor Queen Victoria, between whom as Head
of the Church, there was not a pin to choose. Followers of Him who pur-
chased the Church by His blood, they must get rid of everything in the shape
of priestism or undue power in the hands of any office-bearer ; respecting
him, of course, so far as he merited respect, but not as though his office
in itself gave him any power over them. He rejoiced, too, that there was a
spirit of freedom 'amongst the people of that church 4 but it was easy to have
the name of liberty where its principles were neither understood nor sus-
tcdned ; wherefore he did not attach over much importance to the name,
knowing it much easier to give a good name than to induce those who bore it
to show themselves worthy of that name. If, then, they were called free, it
did not follow that they would necessarily be so, hut rather Warned them to
guard their principles, lest it should happen to them as experience seemed to
show it had, somehow, to almost all religious organiaatioos, that, however
sound the principles on which in their origin they were based, something had
crept in or sprung up, something been brought from a distance, or some seeds
unobserved at the first had gradually developed themselves, until the consti-
tutions of the freest were undermined. Let it not be so with them^ but, having
made themselves free, let them strive to keep so $ and thus would the aspira-
tions of the United Methodist Free Churches be realized, and all their places of
worship filled with educated and converted masses of the people.

Mr. Bowron supported the resolution, which was put to the meeting, and
carried unanimously.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

544 Religums Intelligence.

The Rey.M. Baxter proposed the second resolntion, wbiob was as follows :— -

'*That this church and congregation rejoice in the union that has been
effected between the Wesleyan Association and a l^tge portion of the Wesleyan
Reformers, and indulge the hope that the blessing of God will so rest upon the
uniont that it will be a means of spreading Scriptural Christianity, in connec-
tion with a liberal form of church government, throughout the world." He
said, he did not know any event in ecclesiastical history that so interested
him as the union of which the resolution spoke. Really there had been, in
the present case, in their common principles something on each band showing
the parties so fitted for an^dliance that it would have been an outrage of all
propriety if they had not come together. It might be said that union was the
common duty of all Christians and Christian denominations ; but there were
forms of union like, for instance, that of the Evangelical Alliance, limited
—however sincere the parties—in their development and operation b)r a
difference of opinion on many subordinate but still important points, which
made perfect identitv impracticable ; but in the present case, the union was one
of perfect identity, l>oth with respect to theological doctrines and disciplinaiy
principles. The two great Sections in Reform Methodism, could not con-
sistently have kept aloof from each other. They were equally bound both by
principle mud policy to combine their forces in one great Body. Alluding to
the names tnat bad been given up on both sides, the reverend gentleman
expressed his satisfaction that those names had been dropped, and considered
the designation assumed admirably adapted to distinguish the united Body.
Noticing the hope expressed in the resolution, that the union would be a means
of spreading scriptural Christianity, he urged the importance of the Mbsionaxy
cause. Freedom from the thraldom of Satan was even more important than
ecclesiastical freedom, and the Gospel they had to proclaim was good alike for
all races and conditions of men ; for the Celt and the Indian, for the African
and for the Chinese, as well as for themselves. But while evangelical truth
must ever occupy the foreground in the efforts of the United Body, they must
not fail to maintain their unwavering adhesion to the cause of Ecclesiastical
Freedom. It too was as necessary to the Celt as to the^ Briton ; to the
African as to the Chinese ; to the convert on the Foreign Mission Station ss
to the disciple in the Church at Home. Liberty was a hardy plant, adapted,
with proper care, to flourish in every clime and amongst all races of men ;
he had no apprehension of its not being sacredly guarded, by the fidelity of
the United Ajssociationists and Reformers. He hoped, then, that during the
ensuing year there would be a strong united effort to extend the operations of
the liody, both at Home and Abroad ;— he hoped that the members of the
Methodist Free Churches would come forward as one man in the exercife of
personal talent, in the offering of fervent prayer, and in the practice of
abounding liberality to do what they could to hasten the time, wnen, Christ
should have ** the heathen for His inheritance, and the uttermost parts
of the earth for His possessioi^.*'

Mr. Green, of North Shields, in seconding the resolution, urged the impor«
tance of considering the designation which the united bodies had taken as but
a new name in addition to their old one of Wesleyan Reformers, which they
should still continue to act up to, by supporting the Reform League, and
otherwise, according to their several abilities.

This resolution was also carried unanimously ; a vote of thanks moved, in an
appropriate speech, by Mr. Thomas Cuthbertson, was given to the Chairman
for his kindness in presiding, and the highly interesting Meeting was dosed
by singing the doxology.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

THE

WESLEY AN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE.

DECEMBER, 1857,

THE ATTESTATION OF DIVINE AUTHORITY AND
EVANGELICAL ENTERPRISES.

Being an Address, bearing an the Indian Mutiny^ delivered an
the Day of Humiliation^ Wednesday^ Oct, Ithy in the ITniUtt Meiha-
dist Free Church, Swansea,

By the Rev. John Baron.

''Be still, and know that I am God ; I will be exalted among the heathen,
I will be exalted in the earth. The Lord of hosts is with us ; the God
of Jacob is our refuge." — Psalm xlvi. 10, 11.

Considerable variety of opinion exists in the learned world, as to
the occasion which caused the utterance of this Psalm. By some,
it is thought to have been composed on the occasion of the deliverance
of Jerusalem from Sennacherib's invasion. And a careful perusal of
this Scripture, will show, that such an idea derives from it a con-
siderable share of probability. Others conjecture, that it was a great
earthquake which elicited its utterance, and not a few are of opinion,
that it was sung on the return of the Jews from the Babylonish
captivity, and that the disturbances to which it refers, were those
which took place in the Persian empire after the death of Cambyses,
when the Magi usurped the government.

In reading this Scripture, we are convinced of two things : — First,
that it was occasioned by a great national emergency, whatever that
JDight be, and, Second, that it is inspired truth, and peculiarly
adapted to aflford comfort to the Church in her painful and distressing
fluctuations. It does seem peculiarly fitted to inspire confidence
in the wisdom of God's government, at such a crisis as the present.
We have therefore related a portion of it, not to confine our remarks
absolutely to the text, but as the centre of some ideas to which we
wish to give utterance.

Let me then mark out to you, the course, which, by the help
of God, I shall try to pursue.

You will find in this Scripture, First, that the Divine Being attests
His authority, and proclaims a call to submission — "Be still, and
tnow that I am God." Second, that God Almighty guarantees the
success of evangelical enterprises — "I will be exalted among the
lieathen, I will be exalted in the earth." Arid Third, that Christian

2 H

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

546 The Attestaiian of Divine Authority

people possess the assurance, tbat th^ are &voured with the appro-
bation and support of Divine Providence, and that His authority
and power are their protection and refuge. — '^The Lord of hosts
is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge.**

I. The attestation of Diyine Authobitt. ''Be still, and know
that /am God.**

God possesses authority, absolute and irresponsible. All power
and authority possessed by other beings, are held under the delega-
tion of the Almighty, and they are responsible to Him for their
proper use. The authority of God is not at all difficult to be
detected in the operations of universal nature. The rolling wave
which lashes the beach, the surge of the sea that dandles cm its
surface the most gigantic structures, which human genius has yet
invented and manufactured, — the heavenly bodies which pursue
thetr courses unrestrained* or stand to their posts immoTable as
the throne of G«»d, all speak in definite terms of the authority of the
sovereign of all worlds. Who has not trembled, and confessed in his
heart that there is a God, and that that God has absolute authority in
the world, when the elements have raged, when the peeling thunder
has shaken the foundations of his habitation, and the fightning'a vivid
flash has aU but struck him with blindness ? Earth proolaims the
authority of Jehovah, and the moving elements confirm the procla-
mation. While the power of God is demonstrated hy organic
changes, by physical and moral commotions, the universe itself seems
to listen with submissive silence, while Jehovah speaks, and says,
'' Be stilly and know that I am GodJ*

The authority of our blessed Lord can never be usurped. While
God lives, there can never be a new king in heaven. And He will live
and reign for ever and ever. Nor can the authority of God in any of its
functions, though it should be the most insignificant, be rightfully
assumed by another. The smallest reptile that crawls on the earth, is
as much under the authority of God, as is the greatest potentate of the
universe, — not ev^i a sparrow falls to the ground without His permis-
sion. How utterly impotent and futile are the strongest effi>rts of the
strongest man when opposed to the authority of God ! How painful
it is to see a man struggling to gain a rich goal, and speculating upon
rising to eminence in society, when it is plain to be seen, that he does
it all regardless of the will of God and the leadings of Providence,
and he has scarcely gained standing ground upon an eminence for
which he has struggled hard and long, before he is cast down with
vengeance to his former position. When men trample upon the
authority of God, they may calculate upon their daring speculations
being frustrated. How visibly the Almighty sometimes interposes
and retards the aggressive movements of an ambitious sovereign, and
how ludicrous his position seems when God but shows a little of his
authority.

It has been frequently attempted by priestly domination to usurp
the authority of God in the Church. Most of the fluctuations of the
Church may be traced to this origin. But in the Church, as in the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

and EwingsUccd Enttrpriu^, S4!t

political world, tbe Diviiie Being is the head, and His authoritj must
be kept intact. Frota t^ smoulderiiig ruins of the Romish Church,
there issues an intelligible sound, '< Be stall, and know that I am God.**

The system of Divine government cannot be improved upon,
neither by syiiods nor by parliaments. Who could move the heav-
enly bodies with regularity such as God? Who but He, could
order l&e tides and the seasons with so much precision and certainty ?
What scribe, ov philosopher, or political sage, could organize such an
economy as the Christian religion ? In the kingdoms of this world,
which are under the nominal regulation of men, there are often pain-
ful and disastrous collisions between contending armies, but neiver
among the armies which move in the celestial spaces. Jehovah is pos-
sessed of infinite knowledge, extending over past, present, and future,
and regulates events acctMrdingly. God is possessed of infiidte wis-
dom, and governs the world by this standard, it could not therefore be
governed better. Let us, then, bring these important £u}ts to bear
upon the all-absorbing question of the day.

We are at present afflicted with a grievous national calamity,
which vibrates upon the heart-strings of the people of this vast
empire, — an extensive revolt. The scene of this eruption is laid in
the upper provinces of the Bengal Presidency, in India, and alhiost
confined to that locality. The supposed causes of this mutiny are
various as the shades of the rainbow. On one hand, it is attributed
to a desire on the part of the native princes to regain their lost
authority. On the other, it is assigned to the repulsive feeling
entertained by the natives to the aggressive movements of Chris-
tianity. But all are of opinion, that one of the principal, if not the
chief cause, is to be looked for in the pampering, undecided policy
which has been pursued by the Indian governments The idea that
Christianity ie at the bottom of it^ has been so thoroughly exploded,
that few now dare to assume that ground. But whatever may have
been the cause, most direful have been the consequences. Our imme-
diate business, as a nation, is with the latter, which requires to be
instantly and effectively dealt with. Alas ! how many eyes are be-
dewed with tears that cannot be dried ! Rachel weeps for her chil-
dren. How many hearts have been wounded in the most tender part,
and by means, and in a manner, the most revolting to human nature.
What fatherless children and widowed mothers tread the earth incon-
solable. Many have suffeved, and suffered deeply, and a fearful amount
of guilt has been incurred, and will be visited with just retribution.

'^God reigns over the heathen." This is a fact proclaimed in
Scripture. Why then are evangelical movements retarded, our feel-
ings revolted with murder, and the empire convulsed with mutiny ?
The Divine Being visits national sins, by national calamities. So
He dealt with the people during the Jewish commonwealth, and
He has not departed from that system of government. We can-
not be so presumptuous, as to believe that we have perpetrated no -
national crimes in our government of India. It is allowed on all
hands, and when the time shall arrive for investigation, it will be
more clearly revealed, that there has been misgovemment in India,

2m2

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

548 The AUesiation of Divine AuOiority

and that effeminacy of rale Is the affliction under which it hu
laboured for some time past. It is also a well authenticated fact, th&t
the idolatry of the Hindoos has been winked at, and in some cases,
even supported by the government. It is also affirmed, that unprin-
cipled Englishmen, who have visited that part of the world, ba?e
bestowed presents upon the idols, and worshipped them as gods.
Such conduct could not be otherwise than very injurious to English
character, and highly displeasing to God. But the English character
is miserably represented in foreign lands. In our late sphere of labour
we had ample evidence of this fact. Englishmen are Englishmen at
home, but when abroad, they are too much like the people with whom
they associate, and in some cases, even exceed them in wickedoe^
They do abroad what they could not for shame do at home, public
opinion would be too strong for them. In India, instead of main-
taining the high moral and religious principles for which our nation
is noted, Englishmen have connived at the idolizing principles of
Hinduism and Mahommedanism, and we have reason to believe, in
part, incurred this punishment by such undecided proceedings. India
has been conquered by England, and added to her territories. And
what have we made of it ? Converted extensive tracts of its finest
soil into a vast garden for the production of opium. There happens
at this moment a very striking coincidence, which is worthy of jour
consideration. The English government is at war with the revolted
army of the Bengal Presidency, in India, where opium is produced,
and also with Canton, where that opium is vended at the point of
the bayonet ! Are the footsteps of Divine Providence not seen in
this coincidence ?

However, this national calamity will not pass over without being
productive of some good. The black cloud, pregnant with storm,
pours its teeming showers upon a devoted village, inundates its
streets, and destroys some property ; but this loss is nothing com-
pared with the good effected by spreading fertilization over the
vegetable world. I conceive that this painful event will be useful to
England by teaching her not to connive at, and not to support idolatry.
She has a nobler mission. Another way in which the revolt may be
useful to the people of this realm, is, that it will teach us to estimate
more properly native character, and not use Indians as so many ma-
chines for the production of gold. The Englishman is too apt to look
upon the black man as being as much inferior to himself, as beasts of
burden are to human beings, altogether overlooking that important
fact, — God hath made of one flesh and blood all the kindreds of the
earth. This event will be still further useful in showing us that
British rule and authority, is not absolute and irresponsible. I love
Britain, I cherish her Institutions, I admire her government, but I
cannot think that either her Sovereign or her Parliament, is infallible.
And if there is one thing which impresses me more than another at
this moment, it is, that I hear the voice of God proclaiming in the
ears of the whole nation, — " Be still, and know that / mm God"

This sad event may be useful to India as a nation, by infusing a
larger measure of the oivilizing principle among them. It is higblj

Digitized by VjOOQIC

and Evangelical Entei-prises, 549

probable, that in future, they will come inore into contact with
Europeans, and we cannot but hope, that this may be the means of
giving an impetus both to civilization and religion. The Divine Being
may make this event the means of opening new and wider fields for
evangelical efforts. But we will now come to oor second proposition, viz.

II. The Diyinr Being guarantees the success of Evan-
GELiCAii Enterpbises. '^/ wtll he exalted among the heu"
then,'' Sfc.

Evangelical efforts, purely aggressive, have their foundation in
Scripture, and their example in Apostolic usages. From the firsts
Christianity has been aggressive in its movements. Our authority for
proclaiming the Gospel in every land, amounts in reality to a com-
mission. "Go," said the Saviour to His followers, "go ye into
all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature." It is a
fact well authenticated, that the Apostles did not confine their labours
to their native locality, but leaving an agency in operation at home^
they went abroad to preach the Word. The arguments brought
forward by some to the effect, that we should first entirely Chris-
tianise our own land, before we go abroad, is both impolitic and
unscriptural. The husbandman does not scatter his seed in one
corner of an extensive field, and wait there till it has produced a crop,
for if he did, that harvest time might pass over and leave him only a
quarter of a crop instead of a whole one. Paul did not wait for the
conversion of the entire population of Palestine, before he went into
Asm Minor. Let us scatter the seed over the length and breadth of
the field, and tend with watchful care the growing up of the fruit.

Gospel enterprises have been eminently successful in many parts of
the world. God has been exalted among the heathen. Look at the
noble land of America ! Behold the pilgrim fathers, fleeing from this
country to an unknown one, there to seek for liberty of conscience,
which they could not find at home. They land upon a desert shore,
the snow capped mountains frowning upon their desolation and
loneliness, and their numbers begin to be thinned by privation and
exposure, but they raise their voices and eyes to heaven for mercy and
protection. They build a house to worship God in, they prosper,
they establish a mission among the red Indians, and now, that once
heathen land is a Christian country of no mean worth.

Let your eyes be cast on the great Pacific, and observe its
numerous Islands, and you will find temples dedicated to the Lord of
Hosts, where once stood altars for human sacrifice ; yon will behold
armies of men who not long ago went forward, like the wild tiger
upon his prey, to slaughter and destroy, now sitting at the feet of Jesus,
clothed, and in their right mind. And those Islands, stained with
the blood of human sacrifice, are fast being christianized by evan-
gelical efforts. There the Lord has been exalted among the heathen.

The wheels of evangelization may be thought to move tardily ; but
it must be considered, what mud of idolatry, superstition, and strong
national prejudice and custom, they have to roll through. The time
has not yet arrived for a nation to be born in a day. And if evan-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

550 The Attestalion of Divine Atithariti/

geHzation progresses slowly, it moves surely, and thoQgh zts unireroal
conquest may be yet distant, it is not less sure, for Jehovah has aaid,
''I will be eicalted among the heathen."

Let all friends of missionaiy enterprise take encouragement from
this Scripture. It is God that speaks, — "I toiU be exsjted among
the heathen." And when God wills a thing, who can oppose tliat
will ? The efforts made for the salvation of the heathen must be
Useful, for Grod guarantees their success. But —

Lastly. Christian FEOPiiE possess the assubakge that thet

ARE PAVOTTRED WITH THE APPROBATION AND SuPPORT OF

DrviNB Providence, and that His Au'moRiTT and Power
ARE THEIR PROTECTION AND Refugb. *' The Lord of Hosts is
with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge"
I regard it as an invulnerable fact, that our political greatness is
the consequence of God being with us. As a nation we may with
propriety adopt the language of the Psalmist, — " The Lord of Hosts
!s with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge." The indication of
Divine presence is manifest in our numerous liberal Listitutions, in
their operation and results. And I think it were not exaggeration to
say, that a similar indication stands forth prominently on the face of
our political Constitution. It were preposterous to say it is perfect,
but it were an untruth to assert that there is another in Europe wor-
thy to stand side by side with it. To. raise such a superstructure
required strong, untiring effort, durii^g successive generations, and
now calls for the whole weight of Christian influence to save it from
violation.* "We glory in England's greatness, but attribute its attain-
ment to the presence and approbation of the Lord of Hosts. Her in-
fluence is felt in every court in the world, and diffuses itself to the
utmost boundaries of the habitable globe. Ichabod has not yet been
written upon the ramparts any more than upon the temples of Eng-
land, the glory has not yet departed, for '*the Lord of Hosts is with
ns." Our moral greatness may also be traced to the same source.
Social life in England is materially different from that of continental
Europe, and of a somewhat .higher order, because more sound, more
fruitful of instruction, and less liable to dissipation. There is more
regard for correct practical principles, and less inclination to flirtation
and irregularity. And this can only arise from the inculcation of
a healthier morality, — that morality itself being based upon the high
principles of the Christian religion, the success of which, is certain
evidence of the Divine presence.

" The Lord of Hosts is with us," and this is the reason, that as a
nation, we have become the greatest of all in religious movements.
England has half peopled the continent of America, and done much
towards her evangelization, and she only of all the nations of the
world, can lay claim to having approached the gigantic missionary
efforts made by this country on the behalf of heathen lauds. Her
missionaries are scattered over the world, wide apart, pursuing their
silent unostentatious toil, with a zeal which only God could inspire,

* Some persons think that our glorious constitution in Chorch and State ivoold be
ftU the better for being touched up a little. — Editob.

Digitized

by Google

Egotism, 551

eivilizing men wilder than the beasts of their own deserts. If the
Lord of Hosts had not been with us, and bj His approbation and
blessing prospered our Institutions, many lands that are now rejoicing
in the light of the glorious Grospel, would still have been dark as the
dungeon of moral death ; its inmates buried in wretched obscurity,
miserable desolation, and grossest crime. England is the modem
Palestine ; maj she fulfil her high rocation better than the ancient one.

While we remember and cherish our greatness, let us not be too
proud of our position. Haying risen to a high eminence, if we
should begin to decline, our fall would only be the more disastrous.
**^ He that humbletk himself shall be exalted.*' And this is true of a
nation as it is of an individual. Let the decaying ruins of the
Koman empire be as a beacon and direct our aspiring pretensions in
the way of Providence. What the Lord said to Israel in days of old,
He now says to Britain by the events that are transpiring. " The
Lord is with you, while ye be with Him, and if ye seek Him, He will
be found of you, but if ye forsake Him, He will forsake you.**

But there is comfort to be derived from this Scripture. "The
Lord of Hosts is with us," therefore our protection is sure, and our
success certain. Look at the little child as it leaves its home led by
a father's hand ; with joy sparkling in its countenance, it pursues its
way, fearing neither dog nor beast, and if the child were asked the
reason of its joy and fancied security, it would immediately say,—
** My father is with me." The Lord of Hosts is toith us, therefore
our comfort and safety cannot fail. " The Lord of Hosts is with us.*
We have then, a safe harbour, an unassailable refuge. '' The name
of the Lord is a strong tower, the righteous runneth thereto and are
eafe."

EGOTISM.

** Let another man praise thee, and not thine own mouth, a stranger
and not thine own lips," is advice that fell from the tongue of one of
the most attentive observers of human nature.

If therefore we allow the wise to be our guides, in the regulation of
our conduct, this advice is worthy of our most attentive consideration.
Whether the organ of self esteem be naturally a largely developed
organ in all men, or by yielding more frequently in some than in
others to the natural inclination, we have not sufficient knowledge to
determine ; but that there is a very striking difference in men's
opinion of their own supposed or real talents, there can be no question ;
for while some are of a very modest, unassuming, and retiring
character, there are others who come out and take to themselves a
large share of the conversation, and the personal pronouns follow each
other in rapid succe9sion, and I, Mr, and Me, are the all-engrossing
words that grate upon the ears of the party.

That some persons are qualified to lead in conversation is not
questioned, and are worthy from their superior knowledge, of great
attention, as they are capable of ^th interesting and instructing, but
we sometimes meet with those who are no Solons, assuming a tone
and taking a position in conversations very unbecoming, and it would

Digitized by VjOOQIC

652 JEgoHsm.

be well if thej would attend to the recommendation of him who said,
**Let not an J man think of himself more highly than he ought to tkvnk!'

Egotism is a very unbecoming feature in the character of any
person, and yet how prevalent it is. Ton sometimes hear the honest
hard-working man elevating himself in the scale of self-esteem, and
boasting of his skill, saying how well such a piece of mechanism has
been turned off, and how much more clever he is than his shopmates.
He forgets the recommendation, " Let another man praise thee, and
not thine own mouth." Tradesmen sometimes forget themselves so
far as to give expression to that which shews how high they stand in
their ovni estimation. My concern is flourishing ; I am rising above
my neighbours ; and the secret is, I know how to manage my business
a great deal better than most people. There may be some truth in
both these illustrations ; but how unseemly for self to be made so
prominent, especially as we are " not to be wise in our own conceit"

Sometimes the learned professions are in danger of falling into this
snare, a man may be clever as a lawyer, or a physician, but would it
not be more commendable to let his works praise him than to sound
his own trumpet Pity, that such individuals have not Baalim, their
trumpeter, always by their side.

You also find occasionally those who preach the Gospel who are not
only in danger of thinking of themselves more highly than they ought to
think, but actually committing themselves to a large extent in this way.
We are aware of the necessity of treading lightly on sacred ground ;
but as the hearer derives much benefit from the pulpit, there maj be
times when the pulpit may derive good from the pew. Old Hum-
phrey, in one of his papers, has a word or two on the letter 1, and
declares it to be the tallest letter in the alphabet. He thinks its
frequent appearance any where is not commendable, but worst of all
in the pulpit. And yet there are some preachers, who both in the
pulpit and out of it, have a strong attachment, and an amazing love for
the letter I. Hence in conversation they endeavour to draw all eyes
to themselves, and when you listen to them the theme is Self. 1
have recently been to such a place, had a crowded chapel, had much
liberty in preaching, a friend told me 1 preached an excellent Se^

mon. Or when I delivered a lecture at chapel I received a Tote

of thanks, and an invitation to go again the first opportunity, or I am
going to deliver a course of lectures during the winter, and shall
therefore have a great deal on my bands. If persons who have a
weak side in these matters, would think a little more, and speak a
little less, we are of opinion they would save themselves from much
ridicule. For however the courtesy of Society, may prevent persons
from openly indulging themselves before the party who may be the
cause of the ridicule, yet there is something in human nature, which
cannot tolerate these would be great men.

Did Mr. Egot know the amusement his conduct affords, he would
certainly be more cautious in future. There may be some very
good points in the character who esteems self above every one else;
but certainly this one great defect dslifnages, almost beyond redemption,
the self-laudatory individuaL

Without vrishing to give offehce, we would mildly say that an

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Price of a Ride, Sod:

egotist is a downright bore to the discerning, especially should he be
like the frog in the fable, which " puffed and strained, and swelled its
lank sides." As egotism may be looked upon in the light of an easily
besetting sin, then as in the case of all others, we should try to guard
against it. *' As the prudent man foreseeth the evil and hideth him-
self, while the simple pass on and are punished," would it not be well
for all who are in danger, to be more cautious, and place a double
sentry on their weak part where the enemy may gain an advantage
over them.

For however we may attempt to flatter ourselves, depend upon it,
such conduct as has been briefly described, is an offence against the
understood usages of well conducted society. When a number of
persons meet for a few hours of social conversation, and a single
individual takes the lion's share of the conversation,'*' when there may
be present those who are betUjr qualified to interest, who are thus shut
out, the thing is wrong, and the party offending has inflicted an injury
upon his friends, by engrossing time that did not belong to him, an
injury that will be long remembered, and sometimes bring upon him
censure. '^ Seest thou a man wise in his own eyes, there is more
hope of 2ifool than of him."

As we are commanded to hear instruction and be wise, will it not
be well to listen to the command, " let each esteem others better than
himself!" Then instead of self-sufliciency swaying so extensive and
powerful a sceptre over us, we should be placed in a happier, safer
and more respectful position ; and yielding to the lowly disposition
of the Saviour, so live as not to offend against the laws of propriety,
or the understood customs of social life, or expose ourselves to the dis-
pleasure of Him who beholds the proud afar off, but gives grace to the
humble. — Obssbveb.

THE PRICE OF A RIDE.

It was a dark and inclement evening in the fall of the year, and the
road to Norwich, eight miles from the little manufacturing village of

B , where I then kept a shop, was deep with mud. I drove in haste ;

for I wished to reach a prayer-meeting to be held in Norwich, and the
hour was growing later than I liked. It was from this cause that I passed
a man on foot without asking him, as my usual custom was, to get up and
ride with me. I had not long passed him, when, hearing a sound behind
me, I looked around, and saw the same figure clinging to the rear of my
waggon. Checking mv horse, I asked him if he liked to ride better than
to walk, and as he said he did, I said he might get in, then, and take a seat
beside me.

As we rode on, I said to him, " I suppose there is no harm in our con-
versing a little, since there is nothing else to do — is there ? *'

He said that he did not see that there was, and 1 asked him what we
should talk about. He said he had no choice, and so I took mine, and I
asked him what he thought about religion.

" Well, not much of anything, 1 suppose," was the thoughtless answer.

" Why so ? Do you thiuk it is because you are too bad or too good ? "

" He didn^t know as it was either."

* It argues a poor opinion of ourselves, when we cannot admit any other class of
merit besides our own, or any rival in that class. Those who are the most distrustful
of themselves, are the most envious of others; as the most weak and cowardly are
the most revengeful. — Hazlitt. ^-^ j

Digitized by VjOOQIC

554 The Price of a Ride.

<< WelV nid I, ''the Bible eetdes that question for yoa; for it nys,
* that the heart is deceitful above all things, and deaperatelj wieked;' vsA
that is the reaeon you du not think ikiueh of anything about religion.*'

Thus opened a discussion of searching truth, which eon tinned, with
growing interest and seriousness, to the end of our ride. Airived at his
resting-place in town, he asked, " What's to pay t "

I answered, ** Nothing."

*^ But I prefer to pay you," aaid he ; " this zide'faas been a faTOur and &
help to me."

I still refused ; but he still insisted on paying.* At length I said, "If I
name my price, you won't nay it"

Yes, he woald ; he would pay anything I would aak.

" Will you promise not to beat me down ? "

'* Certainly."

*^ Well, if you will pay me without beating me down, I will name my
price for this ride. My priee ie, that you take the advice I have given
you, and act upon it to the end"

^ But I bad rather settle it now."

" Well, I'd rather you would."

"Then tell me how much it is."

** I have told you. You promised to pay it, and agreed not to beat me
down. Now, I expect you to pay the price I have set." And with these
words, I drove off. We parted in the dark, strangers, as we met. I could
not tell whether he was white or black, and had not asked him his name,
or abode, leet he should ask mine.

It happened about three weeks later, that a coloured woman, who wash-
ed at my house, asked my wife where I was on the night above refer-
red to. Mrs. M — remembered that I had gone to Norwich to attend a
meeting, and so told her. She wished to know how I went ; and, having
got the description of my horse and waggon, said she was satisfied—that
was all she wanted to know.

My wife asked her to explain, which she did in this manner : —

** Aunt Desire,*' she said, " worked at a house in Norwich that day and
evening, and some time after dark, the son of the woman for whom she
worked came in, looking very downcast, and sat down in a comer, without
saying a word for about half an hour. His mother at length asked him if
he was sick. He said he was not ; and she asked him then, what was the
matter. For some time she got no reply ; but finally, he out with it, and
said, ^ Well, somebody's been talking to me.* "

"WTiat about?"

" About religion."

"What did he say r

The young man repeated the leading poijits of the conversation, apd
Aunt Desire, who was a good creature, said, she " concluded from the drift

on't that Mr had got hold of him, sure enough." A\id now, from the

coincidence of the circumstances, she felt quite satisfied that the eonjecture
was right.

I heaivi no more of this, however, for two years. About that time, the

stranger came to B , and hired out as a machinist. I noticed him and

his habits, as I was accustomed to do, but was not thrown into any oppor-
tunities of conversation. One day I asked one of the young members of
the church, if he had talked with this machinlHt. He said he had. I%e
man told him that he had thought very little about religion all his life, till
one night, about two years since, he got a ride to Norwich, on a dark night
with a stranger, who talked to him on the subject in a way he had never
forgotten.

It was plain enough who this was, and I at once determined to make

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Motives to the Acquisition of Knowledge. 555

Idm a coUectiog visit. I c^led, and informed liim that I believed I had a
small account against him. He thought not ; felt eonfident he had paid
for everything he had had at any shop. However, if I had any claim
against him, he was prepared to settle it. I told him I doubted 'whether
he was, and asked him if he remembered getting a ride to Norwich with a
stranger, on a dark night, about two years ago.

'* Are you the man ? " he exclaimed.

'' I believe I am ; I suppose there's nobody else eould tell quite as much
about that transaction as 1 42an."

" WeU," said he, recovering, " I am ready to pay ; what is it ? "

" I told you then what it was," replied I, ** aiid yon faithfully promiaed
to pay without beating down. Mj charge was, that you take my advice,
and act upon it ; and now, my friend, I earnestly desire to see you dkh
charge that obligation."

More exhortations followed, but he stood that revival unmoved. Evenr
tually, he moved away, and again I lost sight of him for two years longer.
At the expiration of that time, a letter came to me from him, and U began
thus — :

" Mt Dsar Sir, — The old account of four years' standing is now, by the
grace of God, settled in the manner you requested, and this is to ask of you
a receipt in fuU. That evening ride and conversation have followed me,
in remembrance, ever since ; and to them, under God, I owe> I hope, the
conversion of my soul."

Soon after, before I had time to reply to his letter, he came to see me.
Driving up to his lister's door (she lived near me), he fastened his horse
there, and, instead of going in, to her decided o^nce, he hurvied back to
my shop to tell me what the Lord had done for his «oul. I have often met
him since, and he has maintained a consistent profession of religion, and
always refers to the price of that ride as the starting-point in his expe-
rience.*-jT/t^ Journal and Messenger,

MOTIVES TO THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE.

As one inducement to the acquisition of knowledge, allow me to remind
you of the pleasure associated therewith. In all labour, if preserved with-
in moderate bounds, there is pleasure. Our ccmstitution, physical and
mental, ia adi^pted to toil. Man cannot be happy without employment.
The great Creator originally intended this, and so nicely has he adjusted
our constitution to the constitution of nature, that if suitable exertion be
made, it will result in both pleasure and success.

In the pursuit of knowledge, as in the pursuit of wealth and fame, there
is labour. You cannot be wise unless you toil. You may become rich by
the receipt of some unexpected fortune, but you have often heard it said,
** There is no royal road to learning ; " and if you would ascend the mount
of wisdom, or enter the temple of fame, you must work hard, and work
continuously. But then you will reap pleasure in the exercise, and obtain
satisfaction in the results. At first sight the elementary principles, or
minute abstractions of some of the higher branches of knowledge, may be
repulsive in their aspect. Very few may have any ravishing delight in
prospect of vulgar fractions and Euclid's propositions, or the syntax of
grammar and the definitions of logic ; but when a start has been made, and
the first difficulties overcome, the road will become clearer, and the pros-
pect brighter. Curiosity and courage will alike urge the mind onward,
and as you begin to comprehend principles and digest facts, you will feel
something like a child, when just beginning to understand and express the
form and meaning of written symbols, anxious to have the whole mystery
of learning at once expounded ; or like the young lady, reading some ro-

Digitized by VjOOQIC

556 Motives to the Acquisition of Knowledge,

mantic tale, hurrying on from chapter to chapter, and from scene to scene,
impatient to have every figure defined, and the whole plot unravelled.
Your mind, like your arm, will acauire strength by exercise, and as you
push your way onward, through rules and exercises, you will feel elated
with the prospect opening l^fore you and compensated with the joy
already enkindled within you. And when you have been enabled to grasp
the hidden meaning of some abstruse theme, when you do feel yourselves
masters of some difficult subject —why, you will enjoy a pleasure akin to
that of the immortal Newton, who became tremulous with emotion as he
saw that every figure in his calculation attested the theory of universal gra-
vitation ; or like Archimedes, who, discovering, as he lay in his bath, the
method by which the specific gravitv of bodies may be determined, gave
vent to his feelings, and exclaimed aloud, " I have foimd it — I have found
it ! "you will be overpowered with joy. Ask for the experience of those
who nave been accustomed to spend their days and nights 4n devouring
works of fiction ; and then appeaJ to those who have applied themselves to
the investigations of philosophy or to the discoveries of science, or to the
researches of history, and you will soon perceive that there is no compari-
son between the two ; that the latter have pleasure far superior to the for-
mer— a pleasure which cannot spring from fiction*s fount, any more than it
can be enjoyed by those who, pleased only with glittering toys, turn away
from the disquisitions of the philosopher, to the tales of the ** Arabian
Nights." You must commence with the elementary principles, and then
ascend by natural gradation to the highest forms of knowledge — say of
mathematics, astronomy, physiology, mental philosophy, &c., and you can
now form no adequate conception of the extensive fields which will be
thrown open before you, of the fascinating scenes which will be unravelled
to your sight, of the thrilling facts which will crowd upon your minda
Why, fancy yourselves able to trace the relations subsisting between causes
and their effects, to point out the adaptation of vaiious instruments to the
purposes to which they are applied, to understand the construction and
operation of engines, machines, and ships, to analyse the heavens and ex-
plore the earth, to comprehend the fibres of your own bodies, and the laws
and powers of your own minds — would not this be knov\ ledge worth pos-
sessing—power worth demonstrating 1 Would not this afford you pleasure,
equal, if not superior, to any which could arise from the posession of wealth
or the receipt of social distinction and honour ? And though the acquisition
of this knowledge may have cost you many a laborious day and sleepless
night, yet in the pleasurable emotions it enkindles within you, have you
not ample compensation for all your anxiety and toil ?

Lord Qrougham, I remember, has made some very judicious remarks on
this subject in a little book I would recommend to your notice, called the
" Pleasures of Science." I have not the book at hand, but will re-produce
from memory a few of its ideas. ** That a few pounds of water," he ob-
serves, ** may, without any machinery, by merely being placed in a parti-
cular direction, and pressed, produce an irresistible force ; that an ounce
weight should balance hundreds of pounds by the intervention of a few
bars of iron ; that the colour of white should be a mixture of all colours ;
that the diamond should be made of the same material with coal ; that
water should be chiefly composed of an inflammable substance ; that the
same thing or motion vvhich causes the sensation of heat causes also fluid-
ity, and expands bodies in different directions ; that electricity, the light
of which is seen on the back of a cat when slightly rubbed on a frosty
evening, is the same thing as the lightning of heaven ; that plants breathe
like ourselves, but differently by night and by day ; that the air which
burns in our lamps enables a balloon to mount, causes the globules of the
dnst of plants to rise and float through the air, and continue their race— in

Digitized by VjOOQIC

MoHves to the Acquisition of Knowledge. 657

a word, ia the immediate cause of vegetation ; that the earth ehotild origi-
nally have been in a state of fluidity ; that it should now move round on
its axis every twenty-four hours ; that the sun should be above 1,000,000
times larger than the earth, and at a distance of 95,000,000 miles from it ;
that planets considerably larger than the globe should fly round the sun
with the velocity of 70,000 mUes an hour ; that the time of an eclipse in
either the sun or moon, or the appearance of a comet, can be accurately
foretold ; that in our own bodies there is such a complication of hopes, fibres,
arteries, and veins;*' that there should be these and a thousand other
wonders to which Lord Brougham has not referred, is surely enough to
excite curiosity, to fill with wonder, while an exact knowledge of them
must afford a pleasure to its possessor which cannot spring from ghost
stories and novels, and which remunerates for any difiioulty and labour en-
countered in its acquisition.

A man in the possession of such knowledge can always find something to
engage his attention. Whether he be alone in his study, or surrounded
with his family and friends, whether following his employment in the n^ill,
or roving for recreation through the fields, he has objects of contemplation,
and sources of pleasure, at his command. A word may suggest a thought ;
a trifling incident in nature may lead to the comprehension of a scientific
fact ; ami in the words of Shakspeare, '* fle finds tongues in the trees, books
in running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in every thins .**

He is bright in the efifulgence of the Deity, and rich in tne approbation
of the world ; and when, thi*ough the infirmity of years,. or the influence of
disease, he is removed from the scene of his association and labours, he is
mourned by friends, and o'er the silent tomb, or in some literary hall, a
monument is erected to preserve his name, and to hand down to posterity
a record of his deeds. '

Now, my dear friends, have you ever tasted, or ever desired to taste,
these pure and exhilirating joys ? As some of you read over these pages, I
can imagine the feelings which will spring up in your hearts. You will
mourn your deficiencies in knowledge, and you will pant, as the hart pant-
eth for the water-brooks, for a drink at that fountain whose streams make
glad the heart, and fertilize the land. Well, the fountain is open to you.
Its streams are freely flowing. You may hold out your pitcher, and you
may taste, and drink, and live. Will you do so ? A determination must be
formed, an effort must be put forth. It is for you to do it ; and, as your
personal friend, I ask you to resolve upon the acquisition of knowledge, to
** drink deep of the Pyterian spring," to do it now, and in future life, you
will look back with gratitude and pleasure, upon your first attempts to
educate yourselves.

I will suggest another inducement to the acquisition of knowledge, by
the means it will furnish for increased respectability, freedom, and power.
Our social is strongly allied with our intellectual nature. We are all
members of a great community, There is a universal brotherhood. We
sustain certain social and political relations ; we enjoy corresponding pri-
vileges, and are laid under corresponding obligations. We cannot sacrifice
our position ; we cannot annul our responsibifity. Does it not become us,
therefore, to acquire a knowledge of our position, privileges, and duties,
and so to act in reference to them as to ensure the approbation of
our fellow-men, and ' prove ourselves worthy of all the privileges and
powers entrusted to us ? Are we servants, husbands, parents, citi-
zens 1 In each relation it is of primary importance to us that we enjoy
the confidence and esteem of our immediate friends, and of mankind
at large. Not to be respected, indeed, I think is worse than to be un-
known. I had rather be shut out of society, or be removed at once to
my long home, than live in the world without approving myself worthy

Digitized by VjOOQIC

558 MaUves to the AcquiiiHan of Knowledge.

the approbfttioft and eonfidBnea of mj feUowa, or without perlDiimng, at
leas^ some of the main dutiea of life. Havio you not the same honourable
feeling ? But, then, we can win neithev oonfidenee nor esteem^ if we be
ignorant and vieiona. We muet understand our social and political rights
IM obligatdons, and, whether in our own domestiJB circle, or among the
ffreat oommoawealth of nun^ we must honestly apply oiixBelvie» to tiie
disehavge of eve^y daty. If we neglect to do this, we shall asearedly M
in securing the highest respect of thoee axound us» We may be tolerated
lor a time, but toleration will soon giTe place to reprobation and disgust

I remember, when a boy, being struck with the follocwing anecdote.
The Spaniards, under the Itodership of Pizatro, invaded Peru. At a
tune when there was friendly interoocurse between l^e injured inhabi-
tants and their invaders, one of the FeruTiana had a word written on the
nail of his thumb by a Spaniard. Going round the Spanish army, he pre-
sented the word to one soldier after another, and, to boa sarprise, all coold
readmit. At length he came to Fizarro. Now, Pizarro was a general of
great talents^ and of undaunted courage, bat without education, beiog
unable to read and write. When the Peruvian presented to him the word
written on the nail« Pizarro turned away with a blush of shame. His
ignorance was betrayed, and he fell in the estimation of the Peruvian, who
henceforth regarded him as inferior to the rest of his countrymen. Yon
will see the moral of the anecdote. Whatever the external advantages of
a man, if void of intelligence, he will fail to secoare general: oonfideDce and
esteem ; and much, very much, rather would we prefer the company of an
intelligent tradesman or mechanic, to that of an ignorant squire or lord^
Wha are the men you try to place in your most honourable and respon-
sible stations 1 With whom ao you prefer to transact your ordinar}^
business? To whom do you wish to erect youf marble monuments?
Whose are the names you cherish ^ £aniiliar as household words '* ? Not
the empty buffoons, or the stiff and starched dandies of the age« who strut
about our streets with canes in their hands, and cigars in their moutha
You abhor these men. They are contemptible coxcombs ; and you delight
to honour those who have sense in their heads, and generous sentiments in
their hearts, although their circumstances may be poor and their manners
unobtrusive.

You have sometimes heard it said, ^ that ignorance is the mother of de-
votion." I don*t exactly believe that. Knowledge is an essential element
of true religion, of Christian worship. But ignorance, I do believe, is the
stepping-stone of crime, and the gate to tyranny and oppression. Our
prison Beports would readily prove that the majority of our criminals are
persons without education ; and the history of nations is equally con-
firmatory of the fact, that popular ignorance, and popular oppression and
tumult, are almost inseparably associated. Uneducated men have very
little power to defend themselves, and they soon fall a prey to the crafty
and ambitious. When popular knowledge has declined, publio freedom
has diminished. Bome was once the mightiest nation of the world ; she
extinguished the light of literature, and gradually sunk into politieal
bondage and moral debasement. You have heard of the ^* dark ages,"
when priestism was rampant, and every conceivable form of vice was
practised. Were not these ages preceded by, and associated witih) a state
of the grossest ignorance 7 And when the ^'revival of letters" took
place in the fifteenth century, that prepared the way for the religious
reformation of the sixteenth i and the two combined, rescued the people
from despotism, and exalted them to freedom and independence.

Lord Bacon said. *' Knowledge is power," and though the aphorism be
worn almost threadbare, I do not hesitate to quote it again. It contains a
profound truth ; it is susceptible of ample confirmation. Beview the history

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Motives to the Acquisition of Knowledge, 569

of our own, or any other country, and you will find that those men who
have exercised the most powerful influence, who have conferred the most
extensive good, and who have been the most honourably distinguished,
Iiave been men of intelligence and virtue. Look at Alfred the Great, at
Oliver Cromwell, at "William III^ at Pym, Hampden, Peel, Wellington,
and a *^great cloud of witnesses '' and worthies, whose names adorn our
English annals. You often hear it said, that the British nation occupies a
position of pruud pre-eminence among the nations of the earth, and exer-
cises a powerful influence in forming the character, in regulating the cour
dition, and in controlling the destinies of other nations. Well, I delight
to believe that all this is true. But did you ever enquire for a reason?
Were you ever informed why 1 In my opinion it is not because in mer-
cantile pursuits, in political jurisprudence, in military prowess, and in
naval glory, we stand unrivalled ; but because we have religious institi^
tions and agencies so extensivelv and effectively at work in counteracting
ignorance and vice, and in dimising knowledge and virtue, and because
among our people we bave cultivated and observed the principles of free-
dom, and knowledge, and truth. And there cannot be a doubt that just
in proportion as knowledge increases among us, we shall bave an
increase of power for good or evil. Knowledge brings power ; know-
ledge entitles to power. An educated man by the force of his own cha-
racter and principles will have more influence than an uneducated man ;
and until, mdeea, there is ability to understand and use it correctly,
but a very restricted measure of civil power can be safely entrusted
to the masses of our countrymen. W e have at present quite as
much as we well know how to manage. Let us have more intelligence,
and then if you like, a corresponding advance of power. But without
the former, the latter will prove dangerous to our personal interests, if it
do not prelude our national downfalL In the hands of any man, power
IB a dangerous thing, but it is pre-eminently so in the hands of those who
know not how to use it* If you give a firebrand to a child, when from
under proper control, may he not commit self-destruction, or throw the
house and street into a blaze ! So if you invest unlimited, or irresponsible
power, with an uneducated people, may they not with their own weapon
cut short their days, or involve their country in irretrievable woe ? You
have perhaps heard the story of Thomas Anello. He was one day
hawking fish in the streets of Naples, and the next day he was master of
armies and fleets ; his will became the rule of the empire ; his power was
absolute and unrestrained. But his reign was only of nine days* duration,
and it was charaeterised by the greatest crueit^ and folly. You sometimes
hear the maxim quoted, *' Vox populi, vox Dei cs;^,"— the voice of the peo-
ple is the voice of God. In a subordinate sense it may be so ; but I
conceive there is danger of attributing too much power to the people on
the one hand, as there is danger of depriving them of their proper rights
on the other. As component parts, as constituent elements, of the social
and civil community, the people^the working classes — have an inherent
power, an inalienable right both to know and to take a part in the
governmental arrangements of that community. But it does not
thence follow, that they should be freed from all restraint, or that
their own position and influence should not bear some proportion to
their actual ability to discharge aright the duties of citizens, not to
say, rulers of their fellow-citizens. I shall pronounce no opinion at
present upon the best form of political government, nor upon the de-
mands which are now so frequently made by the working classes of
this country, for vote by ballot, for an extension of the Iranchise, for
reduced taxation, &c. All I wish at present to say upon the point is
this, that before any large increase of political privileges and power

Digitized by VjOOQIC

560 Motives to the Acquisition of Knowledge.

can be properly appreciated and advantageously used, there must be an
increase of knowledge among the people. The working classes must
better understand their position, their responsibilities, and duties, and also
be prepared to contribute more effectually to the advancement of educa-
tion among others. I say this, not as an enemy, but as your friend.
Increased power will be fatal without increased knowledge. Advance in
knowledge, as many of you are now advancing in wealth and social com-
fort, and a brilliant future is before you. I know you wish to play a
respectable part in the drama of life. You have no idea of being senseless
drudges all your days. You want to attain the proper dignity of man-
hood, to be of some service in your day and generation, and to have your
names embalmed in tbe memories of those you leave behind. I invite
you, therefore, to the earnest pursuit of knowledge. I don't want to see
you satisfied with a languid desire to become intelligent, virtuous, and
respectable ; but I want you to gird up the loins of your minds, and, with
undaunted courage and perseverance, plunge into those pursuits which will
be attended with a present and a future reward. Nothing is impossible to
persevering effort. I believe with Napoleon, that the word " impossibility"
ought to be erased from every dictionary, Evince the same energy in
mental as in physical exercises, and very soon some of you will surmount
the difficulties incident to humble birth and fortune, and will attain a
position of social honour, of political power, of literary renown.

I must not omit an allusion to the facilities which knowledge affords in
the industrial pursuits of life. In this respect its importance cannot be
over-estimated ; hence a powerful inducement to its acquisition may be
deduced. I have heard it said, that the artizan or mechanic has nothing
to do with knowledge ; that the business of his life is to procure for
himself and family food and raiment ; and that all the book-learning
in the world cannot make him a more skilful workman, or a more worthy
citizen. But is not such an assertion grossly unjust and false ? I won't
stay to argue the question on the broad ground of man*s intellectual and
moral nature,— to insist upon the point before asserted, that there is no
special law of distinction between the rich and the poor, and that the
mechanic in his shop, or the shoemaker on his stool, or the peasant in his
hut, has an equal right to all the advantages of knowledge, with either
the monarch on his throne, or the senator at the bar, or the professor
in his chair. I will advance a step farther, and affirm that the acquisition
of knowledge is important in every relation of life, and that in some
departments it is absolutely needed. Some branches of education— as
classics and mathematics — are more particularly suited to certain posi-
tions in society than to others; but even these, independently of the
pleasure they afford in their cultivation, are not without their real use
in the industrial pursuits. Dr. Thomas Dick, who did more than any
other man in his day to popularize science, and who has been but recently
removed from us in a ripe old age, has very judiciously remarked, that
as " Every art is founded on scientific principles, and directed in its
operation by the experimental deductions of philosophy, it follows that
a knowledge of the principles of science must be conducive to a skilful
practice of the arts, and must have a tendency to direct the genius of
the artist to carry them to the highest pitch of improvement." Our old aiid
valued friend, Lord Brougham, has also remarked upon the same point
in the little book to which I before directed your notice. He says, "To
how many kinds of workmen must a knowledge of mechanical philosophy
be useful ! To how many others does chemistry prove necessary ! Every-
one must at a glance perceive, that to engineers and watchmakers, to
instrument makers, bleachers and dyers, these sciences are most useful,
if not necessary. But carpenters and masons are surely likely to do their

Digitized by VjOOQIC

United Methodist Free Churches Address. 561

work better for knowing how to measure, which practical mathematics
teaches them ; and how to estimate the strenffth of timber, of walls, and
of arches, which they learn from practical mechanics ; and they who work
in Tarioos metals are sure to be more skilful for knowing the nature of
those substances, and their relation to both heat and other substances,
and to the airs and liquids they come in contact with. Nay, the farm-
servant and the day-labourer, whether in his master*B employ, or attend-
ing to the concerns of his own cottage, must derive great practical benefit
— must be both a better servant, and a more thrifty, and, therefore,
comfortable cottager, for knowing something of the nature of soils and
manures, which chemistry teaches; and something of the nature of
animals, and the growth and quality of plants, which he leams from
natural history and chemistry together. In truth, though a man be
neither mechanic nor peasant, but only one having a pot to boi], he is
sure to learn from science lessons which wUl enable mm to cook his morsel
better, save his fuel, and both vary his dish and improve it. The art of
good and cheap cookery is intimately connected with the principles of
chemical philosophy, and has received much, and will receive more, from*
their apphcatien. sSar is it enough to say, that philosophers may diacover
all that IS wanted, and may invent practical methods which it is sufficient
for a workman to learn by rote, without knowing their principles. He
never will work so well if he is ignorant of the principles ; and for a
plain reason, if he only learn his lesson by rote, the least change of
circumstances may put him out. Be the method ever so general, cases
will occur in which it must be varied in order to apply, and if the
workman only knows the rule without knowing the reason, he must
be at fiftult the moment he is required to make an application of it."

THE ADDRESS

Of the London District Meeting of the United Mbthodtst Prbb CfltmcHXS

to the Church Members in the various Circuits of that District,

DsAB Brbthben — In this, the first Meeting of the London District,
since the completion of our auspicious union, we feel it in our hearts to
address you in aflfectionate salutation. We hail you as beloved brethren
in the commonwealth of Israel, and wish you all spiritual joy and.
prosperity. We cannot but congratulate you on your position, wmle we.
exult in our own. We are not self-elected members of a District Meeting.
We have no care or anxiety in reference to the making of laws or the pass-
ing of enactments. Neither have you any ground for apprehension that we
shall exercise any control or dominion over you. We are effectually pre-
cluded from such unenviable power, even if we had an inclination to exercise
it. But we feel no desire to be involved in responsibility of that kind. Our
wishes are of a very different description. We are anxious to devise such
measures as are likely, if adopted and carried out by our Circuits, to be
extensively promotive of our mutual and eternal benefit. As we deem it
not only desirable but necessary that you should be acquainted with our
proceedings, we proceed to furnish you with a statement of the. matters
which were discussed with reference to the general interests of our Circuits.

The attention of the Meeting was directed to the claims of the cause of
Christian Missions. The brethren expressed themselves as imder the
exciting and constraining love of Christ. They were cheered and refreshed
on beii^g informed that fresh openings for Missionaries are presenting
themselves in Australia, — if even twenty more were sent thither at once

Digitized by VjOOQIC

562 United Methodist Free Churches Address.

thej would find promisiDg spheres of labour. The following resolatiou
Was passed—

''That this Meeting being deeplj impressed with the duty and tbe
importance of our Connexion taking steps to extend its sphere of Mianon-
ar^ operations, earnestly recommends the Circuits and Churches of this
District to adopt as soon as possible such means as are calculated to
promote so desirable an object. This Meeting is of opinion that tbe
means most proper to be employed arer the holding of public meetisga for
the advocacy of Mission claims; the appointment of Committeeg,
Treasurers, Secretaries, and Collectors ; that the collectors be supplied with
collecting books for the sums obtained in their respective districts; that
Mission- boxes be prepared and given to proper persons who may he
willing to receive them, and that collecting cards be distributed among
the ehildren of our families and schools, t£at they may obtain donationt,
which are usuaUy termed Christmas offerings.**

A protraoted and earnest eonversation took place on tbe destrablenefl
of having a good and commodious chapel in some central place in Lofidoo.
Many weighty arguments were adduced in favour of this measure. The
Meetine took into serious consideration the importance of having saeh a
chapel for the holding of public meetings ; the accommodation of frieDds
coming as visitors from the country ; the influence which it would have »
fbmishing evidence of our existence and our zeal as a branch of the
Christian Church ; and also the opportunity it would afford of prodaiming
the plain and saving truths of tbe Gospel faithfully and affeciioDatelj
to several hundreds of our fellow-citizens. It was then resolved, that,
Messrs. F. and J. Cuthbertson be requested to make such inquiries, and to
engage in such correspondence as thev may deem desirable in respect to a
central chapel in the Metropolis, and that they report the result to the
next District Meeting.

The brethren discussed at some length the question, What can he done
to promote the prosperity of the work of God in our Circuits 1 They
conferred on the spiritual requirements, the glaring inmioralities, and the
imminent danger of the inmiense population of London and its vicinity,
and feeling anxious for their salvation and for the eo-operation of the
members of all the churches, the following resolution was passed—

" That it be ur^ed on the attention of the Circuits of this district, that it
is the wish of this Meeting that the preachers appointed at the maim
ohapels in our Circuits on the last Sunday in Ifovember should preaeh
espedidly <m the subject of the importance of a revival of God's work,
and that during the ensuing week special services be held in respect to
this object.''

A few other resolutions were passed having reference to correspondence
with Circuits likely to amalfi:amate ; the appointment of a Committee to
oorrespond with such, who maW also assist any of our own Circuits if they
desire it, in regard to Missionary Deputations ; and to make arraiiffsmente
for the aecomnMdation of the next Annual Assembly, and for the next
District Meeting. It was resolved, also, that it is desirable that tbe
London Circuits i^uH be re-arranged, and that the subject should be
brought beft^'e the quarterly meetings of the Circuits for the puipoee of
giving th«n an opportunity of expressing their opinion^ for the con-
sideration of the next District Meeting, wiui the object of reporting their
opuiiona thereon, if necessary, to the next Annual Aasembly. FmaU/t i*
was resolved, that 600 copies of an Address embodying the resections
of the Meeting should be printed. When you shall have become acquainted
with what your representatives have done, we trust that it will meet
with your approval. We trust that we shall all strive to apprehend that
for which we are apprehended of God in Christ Jeau^ io &r as oar

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Nicholas VVkiiaker, ^ Leech. 563

personal well-being is concerned ; and that in regard to others, we shall
all abonnd in the work of the Lord, for we know thv'^ our labour is
not in vain in the Lord. •

Signed on behalf of the District Mev«t"ig'

Matthbw Baxtbr, C7k^*™«»-
Thomas Barlow, SecreU^^V'

BIOGRAPHY.

NICHOLAS WHITAKER, OF LEEDS.

Sabbath-schools have* proved themselves to be of God, they originated
at the necessary and most appropriate time; and have been signally a
means of elevating the moral and spiritual condition of the young. Thou-
sands they have already borne to heaven, and thousands more they are
alluring to brighter worlds, while eternity alone will unfold their full value.
The subject of the following memoir was one of those whose spirit was
borne from this dark vale of tears to mansions of joy and perpetual felicity
on the bosom of the Sabbath-school institution.

Nicholas Whitaker, eldest son of William and Hannah Whitaker, was
born at Leeds, March 25, 1828. His mind did not soon begin to develope
itself, as he was nearly seven years of age before he learnt the alphabet ;
this however did not arise from defective intellect, as his subsequent history
fully illustrates, for when he had arrived at the age of seven years he was
sent to the Lancasterian school, and his progress there was so rapid, that
at the age of ten years he was made head monitor. Unfortunately for his
future progress in knowledge, the circumstances of his parents prevented
his continuance at school longer. After leaving school he got a situation
as errand boy, in which he remained four years ; and it is gratifying to
find, that he performed the duties of his first humble situation with such
fidelity and diligence as to merit the commendation of his master, who
presented him with a very handsome Bible, which he carefully preserved
to the end of his life. How gratifying must it have been to a youth of
fourteen to find himself so kindly noticed ; doubtless it would excite a
laudable ambition in his mind to receive the commendation of those whom
it was his interest and duty to serve.

He had a great thirst for reading and intellectual pursuits ; his mind was
bent upon improvement, and valuable plans for the attainment of that
object often floated upon his mind; and we cannot but regret that fre-
quent indisposition should have so often frustrated his designs. He loved
to associate with men of mind, and when an opportunity presented itself
he would freely discuss with them, and in connection with a private meet-
ing where a few select friends united for improvement, he received great
profit, and his mind seemed to revel with delight in the arcana of know-
ledge. For three successive winters, lectures were giveil in the evenings .
by the teachers of his school to the scholars, on scientific, moral, and reli-
gious subjects, and in them he took the deepest interest, not only for the
instruction and improvement of the children, but also of his brethren the
teachers, whom he repeatedly urged to take part in the discussion which
followed each lecture. A lecture delivered by him on Oliver Cromwell was
highly commendable for its deep research and originality of thought, and
was listened to with interest and great satisfaction.

Those who laboured with him could not fail to notice his kindness and
urbanity of manners ; his whole soul was thrown into the work in which
lie was engaged, and though occasionally the wazmth of zeal led him to

2 N 2

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

564 Biography of Nicliolas Whitaker^ of Leeds.

express himself too strongly, yet the deepest regret invariably followed,
and the first opportunity was sought in order to confess his faults to
the offended party, and receive his forgiveness. His attachments were
strong; he loved his iriends most ardently, and often felt regret when
that affection was not so freely reciprocated. At the early age of six
Tears (that is as soon as children were then admitted into our schools)
his parents committed him to the guardian care of the Sabbath-school,
and there he received valuable instruction, and many good impressions
were made upon his mind, for which he afterwards expressed himself
truly grateful. The Sabbath-school is a place where habits are not only
learnt, but also exhibited, and. the impressions which are there stamped
upon the minds of teachers and scholars generally, remain through life;
many there are who, by their frequent absence from school, too fuHj
indicate their character as well as suffer for the want of that instruc-
tion and those better influences which they might abundantly have en-
joyed. Such was not the course pursued by our young brother, he loved
the school, he loved his teachers, and was regular and punctual in his
attendance as a scholar. He attended school till ho was about seventeen
years of age as a scholar, he then became a Sabbath-school teacher. Being
thus brought to associate with men of superior knowledge and piety, as
well as to have his abilities tested and exercised, he began to feel the neces-
sity for improvement. But he had a still higher object, the salvation of
his scholars ; for this he laboured ; for this he prayed ; his whole heart and
soul were thrown into the work ; he felt something of the value of a soul,
and those of his fellow-teachers who have been present when special prajer
has been made for the scholars, could not fail to notice the intensity of his
feelings, and the overwhelming power and influence of his prayers ; his soul
was in an agony, and his body shared in t)ie intensity of his feelings.
Having been a scholar he had learnt to bear and to forhiear, he knew from
his own experience the folly and giddiness of youth, and this fitted him
especially for a teacher of the boys amongst whom he laboured. Being
engaged as a prayer-leader, he induced his scholars to accompany him to
the prayer- meetings, in order to preserve them fiom bad company, and lead
them to the Saviour ; and when from afiiiction he was unable to attend his
class, they went every Sunday evening to his house to receive instruction,
and before they left lie always prayed with them. On the Sunday before
his death, his wife said to him, ''If your scholars come, I shall not ask them
up stairs." He then said, " Whst nave they done that they must not be
asked ? there is no one 1 should be so glad to see as them. I am sure they
will not hurt me." The burden of their souls pressed heavily upon his
heart, and he said, over and over again, ** I believe that every one of the
lads will be saved." For punctuality and regularity at school he was re-
markable ; to the calls of duty he promptly and faithfully attended ; be
was fully conscious that a few moments too late, or an entire absence f^om
school, would be most injurious to his scholars. As regards the success of
his labours, this for wise ends may be withheld from us ; but now that he
rests from his labours, bis worKs shall follow him, and eternity will no
doubt will disclose many who will be the crown of his^rejoicing in the day
of the Lord. It is not known exactly when he received his first religious
impressions, but at the age of seven the Spirit of God strove powerfully
with him, and he was deeply convinced that he was a sinner, that he
would not rest till his mother prayed with him, and also got some other
persons to pray with him.

Our dear brother enjojed the influence and example of pious parents;
religion was the atmosphere that pervaded his home. For his parents'
prayers and instructions he had the highest respect and veneration, and
when laid apparently upon the bed of death, such was his confidence in

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biograjjhy of JSicholas JVhitaker, of Leeds, 565

his father's prayers, that he believed in answer to them, God would again
restore him, being strongly impressed with the conviction that God had still
a great important work for him to accomplish. Our departed brother
attended to the duties of family as well as personal religion ; he had his
altar for God, and when confined to his bed of affliction, he said he would
not have his family altar broken down, and then requested his wife to read
the word of God, and prayed himself as he laid in bed.

His history afibrds a beautiful instance of the beneficial effects of sowing
besides all waters even when there is no apparent project of success. His
leader, Mr. W. Pawson, was most assiduous in his endeavours to awaken in
Nicholas* mind a concern for spiritual realities, and though they continued
for a while without apparent success, yet ultimately they were owned and
blessed of God.

As a member of the Wesleyan Methodist Association he was indeed one
of its most zealous and devoted champions, the essence of its polity and
doctrines were infused into his soul, and he regarded them as superseding
all others in their spirit of liberality and scriptural character.

We have seen the life of a Christian, let us now draw near and see him
die, for life is the seed-time, and approaching death tests the quality of the
fruit. ** Be. not deceived, God is not mocked, whatsoever a man soweth that
shall he also reap." Our dear brother had sown in the Spirit, and in the
prospect of approaching dissolution, he reaped a harvest of joy and conso-
lation. God Mfilled his promise, " My flesh and my heart faileth ; but
God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever."

For some time God had been sweetly preparing his mind for his
approaching dissolution ; his protracted illness, and the death of a darling
chud, seemed to mellow him for the grave. He became more serious,
thoughtful, and prayerful, and all his conversation was seasoned with
g^ce. On the Tuesday, two days before his death, his soul was filled
with the love of God to an extraordinary degree ; and on that day he was
indeed baptized with the Holy Ghost and with power : calling his mother
to the bedside, he said, '* the Lord hath fully sanctified me." His mother
said, « Praise the Lord." « Well, but, mother, he has fully saved me." He
then repeated the following verse—

"There all the ship's company meet,
Who sail'd with the Saviour beneath ;
With shouting each other they greet.
And triumph o'er sorrow and death.
The voyage *of life's at an end.
The mortal affliction is past;
The age that in heaven they spend,
For ever and ever shall last."

His mother said, " To all appearance you will soon enjoy that meeting."
He said, " Yes ; and I shall bless the day that I was bom." Calling his
wife to his bedside, he said, " All is over, 1 shall never get better." On
the Wednesday, the day preceding his death, his father went to see him,
and said to him, " I think I shall not see you many times more without
an alteration." He replied, "All is right, all is richt." On another occasion,
when his friends were standing round his bedside, he exclaimed, ** The
blood of Christ ; it cleanseth me as soon as I believe." For some days
before he died, he repeatedly exclaimed, " O this foundation, O this
foundation," and repeated part of the hymn

Now I have found the ground wherein
Sure my soul's anchor may remain:

Digitized by VjOOQIC

566 Biography of Mrs, Mirfin, of Leeds.

The wounds of Jesus, for 1117 sin,
Before the world^s foundation slain;
Whose mercy shall unshaken stay,
When heaven and earth are fled away.

When his strength was failing, his mother finished it —

Fix*d on this ground will I nmaiii^
Though my heart fail, and* flesh decay ;*
This anchor shall my soul sustain,
When earth's- foundation melt away ;
Mennr's full power I then shall pvovei
LoVd with an everlasting love.

While the last verse was repeated he said, ''That's it ! that's it V* over
and over again. At intervds, during the last few days of his life, his
mind lost its wonted vigour ; and on the last day, through extreme bodily
affliction, he was quite unable to converse ; yet by signs indicated that
in patience he possessed his soul, till the flickering taper

^ ^ taper was removed

hence to shine £3rth in that world where it will ^uirn with increasing
splendour for ever and ever.

The remains of our departed brother were interred in the Burmantofls
Cemetery, January 26, 1857, aged twenty-eight years. A large eoncouxse
of friends, of fellow-labourers, and scholars, followed him to the grave.
There was no pomp nor worldly parade, but there was deep sorrow in
many bosoms, that another Sabbathrschool teacher had been removed
&&ax his work and gone to his rest, but holy joy mingled with tears
of sympathy, and as the last obsequies were performed, the Bedeemer
aeemed to say to the yawning grave, " Thy dead men shall live, together
with my dead body shall they arise, Awake and sing, ye that dwell in
dust, for thy dew is as the dew of herbs and the earth shall cast out the
dMd."

And now that our dear brother and fellow-labourer is gone — ^who can
describe those emotions of joy and thankfulness which ought to possess
every pious breast that another soul is liberated ? it is no more exposed
to temptations, the difficulties, the trials of life 2 the perils of the voyage
have ceased; the victory has been obtained. Weep not then, fellow-
labourers, for the loss of a brother ; weep not, ye parents, for the loss of
a son ; weep not, thou bereaved of the Lord, for thine husband ; your
loss is his eternal gain. Let us not mourn, but rejoice that another has
crossed the perilous ocean of life, and entered the haven of eternal repose.
Let the church triumphant rejoice, that another has joined their ranks ;
and will not those blest spirits unite to raise a mighty song of praiae
and triumph, which shall float upon the breezes of heaven, from company
to company, and from intelligence to intelligence, till from the humblest
saint to the loftiest seraph one song of praise and triumph shall echo
and re-echo through heaven's wide expanse.

MES. MIRFIN, OF LEEDS.

Died, on August 2nd, 1857, at her house, St Peter's Square, Leeds, alter
a journey of 75 years through this world, and a Christian pilgrimage of
nearly half a century, our highly esteemed and dearly beloved Sister Mirfin,
lamented by her wide circle of Christian friends, and especially by those to
whom, as a class-leader, she had imparted spiritual instruction for many
years.

Sister IMirfin was blessed with a pious mother, who led her in childhood

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Biography of Mrs. Mirjin^ of Leeds. 567

to the house of Gtod, and endeavonred to train her in the -way she should
go, and " bring her up under the nurture and admonition of the Lord," and
thus the bread cast upon the waters was found after many days. When
about ten years of age she attended, for the first time, a class-meeting,
and, in after life, in speaking of the circumstance, she said she could not
think what she could say when spoken to by the leader ; but when he came
to her, and aaked if she wished to serve God and go to heaven, she
answered, yes, because, although a child, such was the desire of her heart
But although she had good impressions, and a pious example, and attended
the means of grace on the Lord's day, yet it was not until she had entered
the marriage state that she made a fall surrender of her heart to Qod, and
became a ^ithful follower of Him who is the way, the truth, and the life.
That which was the turning point in her history, and induced her to yield
to the invitation of mercy, was a dispensation of Providence, which often
produces similar results, namely, the death of a dear child, which hsc
Heavenly Father called away from the troubles of time, that the mother
might be induced to yield to the voice of Divine love. Her husband appears
to have been awakened to a proper sense of his lost condition at the same
time ; and when both were thus converted to God, a family altar was erected,'
which, from that time to the end of life, was never taken down. When, in
after years, she would encourage young Christians to attend to family
prayer, she would refer to her own case, and say, when we commenced
family prayer, you may be sure our prayers were very imperfect She
determined, from the commencement of her Christian course, to avoid worldly
conformity in her personal appearance, and was known by the plainness of
her attire. Not that she supposed dress made a person more holy, but she
thought that the command *^ be not conformed to this world," meant something
more than, many professors of religion suppose it does ; and that whatever
had a tendency to encourage pride should be avoided. Her desire was to be
imbued with '' a meek and quiet spirit, which in the sight of God is of
great price." When the disturbance arose in Leeds, in connection with the
Wesleyan Methodists, in consequence of the arbitrary power exerted by the
Conference, in compelling the majority to submit to the minority, in the
" Brunswick Chapel Organ" case, the class of the late brother John Hall
met in her hoase, and she refused to close her door against the membei:^,
and was consequently expelled with her leader. Afterwards, when the Pro-
testant Methodists were established, she was requested to become a leader
of a female class, in which office she was very snccessful ; having had the
oversight of at least fifty members. • Her conduct as a leader was dis-
tinguished by faithfulness and aflection, she truly cared for the souls
committed to her care ; her «ound judgment and clear discernment weU
qualified her for the proper discharge of her duty. She always spoke of
the step she took in connection with the separation in 1827, as being pro-
vidential, believing that she took a right step, and therefore never regretted it.

Those who were most intimate with her during the last thirty years, speak
in the highest terms of her personal piety, and say she was truly a " Mother
in Israel f that her conversation was always profitable, and such as minis-
tered grace to the hearer. Her illness was short and severe ; but while
able to converse, her prospect was clear, her faith firm, and she said that she
was waiting for her Lord and Saviour to take her home.

Thus passed, from the church militant to the church triumphant, another
happy spirit, who had been pardoned, purified, and made meet for heaven
through the merits of Him who bore her sins in His own body on the tree.

Her death was improved, to an attentive congregation, a few Sabbaths
after her decease, by brother Dawson, in Lady-lane Chapel. " blessed are
the dead that die in the Lord." W. D.

Leeds, Kov, 1827.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

668 Portrait Gallery.

RECENT DEATHS.

Died, at Gate Bottonii in the Todmorden Circuit, Miss Betty Eastwood,
Augtist 20th, 1857, aged twenty-eight years. Consumption removed her
fintUly from us, after a slow and painful progress, through a period of more
than twelve months. During this time she was graciously sustained in the
midst of her sufferings. She went down to the grave in the full assaranoe
of faith and hope, for she had long believed in Him '' who is the resurreo-
tion and the life."

Died of consumption at Todmorden, September 29th, 1857, Miss Sarah
Hartley, in the twenty-second year of her age. Her affliction of several
months* continuance was borne with Christian meekness and resignation.
Having yielded her heart to the Saviour in health, she found Him able to
sustain in sickness and death. A few days before she expired, she said to a
friend — ^ it will soon be over, and then for the conqueror's song."

PORTRAIT GALLERY.

DR. Livingstone's early dats.

In the new volume by Dr. Livingstone — the celebrated African Missionary,
he gives a brief,, but most interesting account of his early days, which every
young man may read again and again with profit. It is as follows : —

Oar great-grandfather fell at the battle ot Culloden, fighting for the old
line of Kings ; and our grandfather was a small farmer in Ulva, where my
father was bom. It was one of that cluster of the Hebrides thus alluded to
by Walter Scott ;—

''And Ulva dark, and Colonsay,
And all the group of islets gay.
That guard famed Staffii round."

Our grandfather was intimately ac(][uainted with all the traditionary le-
gends which that great writer has since made use of in the *| Tales of a
Grandfather" and other works. As a boy I remember listening to him
with delight, for his memory was stored with a never-ending stock of stovies,
many of which were wonderfully like those I have since hcHurd while sitting
by the African evening fires. Our grandmother, too, used to sing Gaelic
songs, some of which, as she believed, had been composed by captive Islaii-
ders laneuishing hopelessly among the Turks.

. Grandfather could give particulars of the lives of his aneestora for six
generations of the family before him ; and the only pqint of the tradition I
feel proud of is this : — One of these poor hardy Islanders was renowned in
the aistrict for great wisdom and prudence ; and it is related that, when he
was on his death-bed, he called all his children around him, and said, ''Now,
in my lifetime, I have searched most carefully through all the traditions I
could find of our family, and I never could discover that there was a dis-
honest man among our forefathers. If, therefore, any of you or any of
your children should take to dishonest ways, it will not be because it runs
in our blood ; it does not belong to you. I leave this preoept with you :
Be honest." If, therefore, in the following pages I fall into any errors, I
hope they will be dealt with as honest mistakes, and not as indicating that
I have foi^otten our ancient motto. This event took place at a time when
the Highlanders, according to Macaulay, were much like the Cape Caffires,
and any one, it was said, could escape punishment for cattle-stealing by
presenting a share of the plunder to his chieftain. Our ancestors were

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Portrait Gallery. 569

Bomaii Catholics ; they were made Protestants by the laird coining round
with a man having a yellow staff, which would seem to have attracted
more attention than his teaching, for the new religion went long afterwards,
perhaps it does so still, by the name of " the religion of the yellow stick."

Finding his farm in Ulva insufficient to support a numerous &mily, my
grandfather removed to Blantyre Works, a large cotton manu&ctory on
uie beautiful Clyde, above Glasgow ; and his sons, having had the best
education the Hebrides afforded, were ffladly received as clerks by the pro-
prietors, Monteith and Co. He himself, highly esteemed for his unflinch-
mg honesty, was employed in the conveyance of large sums of money from
Glasgow to the works, and in old age was, according to the custom of that
company, pensioned off, so as to spend his declining years in ease and
comfort.

Our uncles all entered his Majesty's service during the last French war,
either as soldiers or sailors ; but my father remained at home, and thoush
too conscientious ever to become rich as a small tea-dealer, by his kindli-
ness of manner and winning ways he made the heartstrings of his children
twine around him as firmly as if he had possessed, and could have bestowed
upon them, every worldly advantage. He reared his children in connection
with the Kirk of Scotland— a rehgious establishment which has been an
incalculable blessing to that country— but he afterwards left it, and during
the last twenty years of his life held the office of deacon of an Independent
church in Hamilton, and deserved my lasting gratitude and homage for
presenting me from infancy with a continuously consistent pious example,
such as that, the ideal of which is so beautifully and truthfully portrayed
in Bums* " Cottar's Saturday Night." He died in February, 1856, in peace-
ful hope of that mercy which we all expect through the death of our Lord
and Saviour : I was at the time on my wav from Zumbo, expectinff no
creater pleasure in this country than sitting by our cottage fire and telling
him my travels. I revere his memory.

The earliest recollection of mv mother recals a picture so often seen
among the Scottish poor— that of the anxious housewife striving to make
both ends meet. At uie age often I was put into the factory as a '^ piecer,"
to aid by my earnings in lessening her anxiety. With a part of my first
week's wages I purchased Euddiman*s ** Budiments of Latin," and pursued
the study of that language for many years afterwards, with unabated
ardour, at an evening school, which met between the hours of eight and
ten. The dictionary part of my labours was followed up till twelve o'clock,
or later, if my mother did not interfere by jumping up and snatching the
books out of my hands. I had to be back in the fisustory by six in the
morning, and continue my work, with intervals for breakfast and dinner,
till eight o'clock at night. I read in this way many of the classical authors,
and knew Yirgil and Horace better at sixteen than I do now. Our school-
master—happUy still alive— was supported in part by the compan^r; he
was attentive and kind, and so moderate in his charges that all who wished
for education might have obtained it. Many availed themselves of the
privilege ; and some of mv schoolfellows now rank in positions far above
what they appeared ever likely to come to when in the village school. If
such a system were established in England, it would prove an ever-ending
blessing to the poor.

In leading, everything that I could lay myhands on was devoured ex-
cept novels. Scientific works and books of travels were my especial
delight ; though my father, believing, with many of his time who ought to
have luiown better, that the former were inimical to religion, would have
preferred to haVe seen me poring over the *' Cloud of Witnesses," or
Boston's '' Fourfold State/' Our difference of opinion reached the point of
open rebellion on my part, and his last application of the rod was on my

Digitized by VjOOQIC

570 PortraU Gallery.

reftisal to peruse Wilberforce's "Practical Christianity." Tliis dislike to
dry doctrinal reading, and to religions reading of every sort, continued for
years afterwards ; but haying lighted on those admirable works of Br.
Thomas Dick, " The Philosophy of Eeligion," and " The Philosophy of a
Future State/* it was gratifying to find my own ideas, that religion and
science are not hostile, but Mendly to e^h other, fully proved aud
enforced.

Great p^ins had been taken by my parents to instil the doctrines of
Christianity into my naind, and J bad no difficulty! in understanding the
theory of our free salvation by the atonement of our Saviour, but it was
only about this time that I really began to feel the necessity and value of
a personal application of the provisions of that atonement to my own case.
The change was like what may be supposed would take place were it pos-
sible to cure a case of ** colour blindness." The perfect freeness with wnich
the pardon of all our guilt is offered in God's book drew forth feelings of
affectionate love to Him who bought us with His blood, and a sense of
deep obligation to Him for His mercy has influenced, in some small
measure, my conduct ever since. But I shall not ^gain refer to the inner
spiritual life which J believe then began, nor do t intend to specify with
any prominence the evangelistic labours to which the love of Christ haa
since impelled me ; this book will speak not bo ipuch of what has been
done, as of what still remains to be performed before the Gospel can be
said to be preached to all nations.

In the glow of love which Christianity inspires, I soou resolved to
devote my life to the alleviation of human misery. Turning this idea over
in my mind, I felt that to be a pioneer of Christiapity in China might lead
to the material benefit of some portions of that immense empire ; and
therefore set m;^8elf to Qbtain a medical education, in ordler to be qualified
for that enterprise.

In recognising the plants pointed out in my first medical book, that ex-
traordinary old ^ork on astrological medicine, Culpeper's " Herbal," I bad
the guidance of a book on the plants of Lanarkshire, by Patrick. Limited
as my time was, I found opportunities to scour the '^hole country-side,
** collecting samples." Deep and anxious were my studies on the still
deeper and more perplexing profundities of astrology, and I believe I got
as far into that abyss of fantasies as my author said he dared to lead me.
It seemed perilous ground to tread on farther, for the dark hint seemed to
my youthful mind to loom towards " selling soul and .body to the devil,"
as the price of thd unfathomable knowledge of the stars. These exciir-
sions, often in conapany with brothers, one now in Canada, and the other a
clergyman in the United States, gratified my intense love of nature ; and
though we generally returned so unmercifully hungry and %tigued that
the embryo parson shed tears, yet we discovered so many to us new and
interesting tniugs, that he was always as eager to join us next time as he
was the last.

• On one of these exploring tours we entered ^ lime-stone quarry— long
before geology was so popular as it is now. It is ijnpossible to describe the
delight and wonder with which I began to collect the shells found in the
carboniferous limestone which crops out in High iBlantyre and Cambus-
lang. A quarryman, seeing a little boy so engaged, looked with that pity-
ing eye which the benevolent assumes when viewing the insane. Address-
ing him with, "How ever did these Bhells copie into these rocks!"
" When God made the rocks, he made the shells in them/' was the damp-
ing reply. What a deal of tr(»uble geologists might have saved themselvea
by adopting the Turk-like philosophy of this Scotchman !

My reading while at work wag carried on by placing the book on a
portion of the spinning-jenny, so that I could catch sentence alter sentence

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Review and Criticism, 571

as I passed at my work ; I thus kept tip a pretty constant study undiS'
turbed by the roar of the machinery. To this part of my education I ow«
my present power of completely aDstracting the mind from surrounding
ncdses, so aa to read and write with perfect comfort amidst the play of
children or near the dancing and songs of savages. The toil of cotton-
spinning, to which I was promoted in my nineteenth year, was excessively
severe on a slim loose-jointed lad, but it was well paid for ; and it enabled
me to suppoi*t myself while attending medical and Greek classes in Glasgow
in winter, as also the divinity lecturesJ of Dr. Wardlaw, bv working with
my hands in summer. I never received a farthing of aid from any one,
and should have accomplished my project of going to China, as a medical
missionary, in the course of time by my own efforts, had not some friends
advised my joining the London Missionary Society, on account of its per-
fectly unseotarian character. ^' It sends neither Episcopacy, nor Presby*-
terianism, nor Independency, but the Gospel of Christ to the heathen."
This exactly agreed with my ideas of what a Missionary Society ought to
do ; but it was not without a pang that I offered myself, for it was not
quite ngreeable to one accustomed to work his own way to become in a
measure dependent on others ; and I would not have been much piit about
though my offer had been rejected.

Looking back now on that life of toil, I cannot but feel thankful that it
formed such a material part of my early education ; and| were it possible,
I should like to begin life over again in the same lowly 9tyle, and to pass
through the same hardy training. *'

EEVIEW AND CRITICISM.

Earnest Christianity Illustrated tnitk a brief Sketch of the Rev.
John Caughey's Life. By John Unwin. London : Paetridgb
AND Oo* Sheffield : John Unwin.

This is the title of a work containing an account of the ministerial
history of Mr. Caughey, one of the ^ most successful ministers that
ever lived ; combined with a large quantity of matter from his journals,
letters, and other writings, illustrative of Christianity in Earnest.
Seldom have we seen a production, which, in our estimation, was of
higher value — its spirit, its sentiments, its facts, in short every
thing in it is adapted — eminently adapted, to iaflame the seal of the
Churches, Every preacher, every leader, every Sabb^-th -school
teacher, and every member of the Churches ought to read it. We
cannot command language sufBciently strong to indicate our sense of
its value and importance: But for the heavy demand on our space
this month, we should be disposed to quote largely from its valuable
pages in support of our judgment on its merits. As it is, our readers
must just. purchase the work, in which case thoy will not fail to
endorse our opinion of its value.

Catighei/s Letters. 5 Vols. London : 5, Horse-shoe Court, Lud-
gate-hill. Sheffield : John IjNWiif^

These volumes are among the most interesting and instructive
works of their class. They were written under various circum-
stances ; they treat on a large variety of subjects, but a vein of deep

Digitized by VjOOQIC

^72 • Review and Criticism »

and earnest piety may be traced tbrougli tbe whole. We have never
known an author who more completely subordinates everything
throughout the wide field of his mental associations, to the moral and
spiritual interests of his readers. In this respect, Mr. Caughey evinces
an intensity of purpose that must command admiration wherever these
letters obtain circulation. They are widely circulated already, but
not half so, widely as their great value demands. They ought to be
in every Family, and in every Sabbath-school Library throughout the
whole extent of Methodism.

The Christian Almanach, 1858. London Tra.ct Sociktt.

A beautiful little book of its class, into which is compressed a vast
deal of information with respect to Christian truth — to the field and tbe
garden — the household — social life— public business — matters, poli-
tical and legislative— and the religious and benevotent Institutions of
our age and country.

Notes on the Scripture Lessons for 1857. London : Sunday-
school Union.

An excellent publication containing lessons for each Sabbath in tbe
year, to assist the Sabbath-school Teacher in his preparations for the
performance of arduous duties at the head of his class. These
lessons are highly valuable.

fFayside Boohs. London Tract Society.

This is a packet of six books for sixpence, neatly got up, and
admirably suited as rewards for the younger scholars in Sabbath-
schools.

Persons and Places. By John Stokoe. London : J. R. Cooke,
21, Warwick-lane, Paternoster-row.

A lecture delivered by its author before the Toung Men's Christian
Association, in a town in one of the Midland Counties. It is
intended to illustrate and enforce the maxim which has lately
obtained such wide currency :^'' the right man in the right place.''
It is a highly creditable production.

The Young Envelope Mahers. London Tract Society.

Another of those admirable works by which this Society has kept
itself abreast of the age, and has done so much to mitigate the evils of
the highly artificial civilization of the land we live in.

Come Home. By Rev. W. H. Allen, B.A. London : John
Snow.

This is a small but highly valuable little work. The subject
is our Heavenly Home, and it is treated in so fascinating a style, that
we can hardly refrain from giving it to our readers in extenso, but we
refrain. The price is only twopence.

The Sunday Scholar*s Penny Almanach for 1858. London:
Sunday-school Union.

It deserves the attention of the scholars in all our schools.

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

Singular^ but True. 673

The Happy and Useful Christian. By J. Myers. 'London: Jab«
BOLD and Sons, 47, St Paul's Churchyard.

This little volume contains an interesting sketch of the late Thomas
Turner, of Farsley, near Leeds. It testifies with great emphasis to
the value of Religion, hoth in life and in death. Mr. Myers has done
good service to the cause of evangelical religion by this excellent pro->
duction.

The Testimony of Methodism to the Temperance Movement.
London : W. Symons, Bridge-street, YauxhaU ; W. Twbedie,
Strand.

A number of Tracts well adapted in general to promote the Tem«
perance cause. This great question is treated in such a way as may
be likely to impress all classes of religionists, but Wesleyan Methodists
in particular. The venerable founder of Methodism is brought into
collision with such of his professed disciples as oppose the Temperance
movement.

India. By C. Stovell, London: Jackson and Walford, St. Paul's
Churchyard.

An excellent lecture on India, delivered by one of the most gifted
men in the Baptist denomination. It would be difiicult to find in the
same compass, anywhere else, more importi^t reflections on the his-
tory and present condition of that great country, than in Mr. Stovell's
work. The reading of it has greatly edified us. It has our best
wishes.

Our Home Islands. London : Religious Tract Society.

This is a work on the natural features of Great Britain and the
Isles by which it is surrounded. It treats on their seas and shores —
their geological formations — their highland and lowland regions —
their inland waters — their climate — their botanical features — their
zoological features, and even their more recent geological changes.
The work contains beautiful illustrations of the relative heights in
Great Britain, and of the natural bridge near Ballybunian Bay, as
also of those basaltic formations which fill up so large a space among
the trap rocks of our geological field. Such a work cannot but be
interesting in a very high degi*ee to the youth of this country.

PUBLICATIONS RBCBIVED.

Sunday-school Teachers' Class Register. London : Sunday-school Union,
Psalms for Chauntiiig. London : Sunday-school Union.

' SINGJJLAR, BUT TRUE;

Or, the intolerable Misery connected with the Custody of a
Thousand pound-Note.
Onr hero had become possessed of a thousand pounds sterling. In the
city of London, of all places, he had the heavy responsibility of taking care
of a cheque for this amount, but he shall tell his own story of the trouble it
gave him. He says ; — The loss of so large a sum, though it might not have
ruined me, would have been attended with the most serious consequences,
and my. fears of this possibility magnified it into a probability ; for though

Digitized by VjOOQIC

574 Singular, but True,

the adage of London's streets being "paved with gold" was growing
stmewhat obsolete, the belief that Ix>ndon thieves would steal the loose
teeth ont of anybody's head was with many an undoubted axiom. At that
time, though neither the notorious Jack Shephard nor Jonathan Wild were
in being, daring deeds were done by London sharpers ; and it was said that
you mignt lose your pocket-handkerchief at the top of Saffron-hill or Field-
lane, and purchase it again at the bottom, where by the time yon arrived
there, it would be floating at a doorway exposed for sale. With my
thousand-pound note in my pocket, I made the best of my way to the
George and Blue Boar, Holbom, an Inn to which I had been recommended,
not quite free from the suspiolon that some quick-sighted thief might have
seen me receive the money and doggecl my steps to my hotel. Again and
again did I look behind me as I passed along the thronged streets on my
way to Holbom, half suspecting every one near me to to a rogue: When
once fear and suspicion enter the mmd, it is not easy to diuodge them.
Had a Howard been walking after me, and one had whispered to me that he
was a London thief, I feel sure I should have imagined that I saw villany
in his countenance. That night I slept at the George and Blue Boar, or
perhaps it would be safer to say that I retired to rest there, for sleep was
a thing which I had little to do with. My lodging-room was at tho bai^
of the house, and the door opened on to the balcony which ran round the
building, commanding a view of the yard and stables. No doubt the noises
that prevailed, early and late, in the Inn-yard, among the porters, ostlers,
doach-cleaners, and others, had some influence in keeping me awake ; but my
thousand-pound note was the principal cause. Though my money was
placed under my pillow, it was not on that account considered by ttie to be
altogether secure. I had heard tales about travellers at Inns being robbed
by seemingly fellow-travellers, as well as by the servants of the establish-
ment. Moveable panels were said to be fixed in bed-room doors, through
which the owner of the Inn could enter; and portrats were hung on the
walls, with holes in the eyes, through whi(^ persons behind them looked to
see where /travellers put their money. All these tales came full on my
remembrance as I lay awake listening to every sound, loud or low, that
reached my ear, and giving way to the most absurd apprehensions :

When Fear assails us, Folly, like a brother,.
Is sure to join him : one assists the other.

The morning at length came, and while breakfasting in the coffee-room,
which looked into Holbom, I laid down something like a plan for the day.
The British Museum being near, there I resolved to go; for sight-seeing
being one of the objects which had brought me to London, I could hardly,
with a good grace, return home without accomplishing it. Looking back
on the past, with my present knowledge of London, few things can appear
more ridiculous than the figure I must have cut on my way to Great
KuBselUstreet. With my thousand-pound note in the inmost fold of my
pocket-book, closely buttoned up in my breast-pocket, I sallied forth, all
eye, watchfulness, and circumspection ; at one moment looking suspiciously
round me, at another putting my hand to my bossom to assure myself that
all was safe. Had a clever sharper set eyes on me, I must have been a
marked man with him; for my extreme vigilance and caution would have
proclaimed my fears. * * * * I visited Westminster Abbey, where
the appearance of an individual in Moustaphes frightened me out oi my
propriety altogether. As I entered the small chapel where lies the figure of
Henry Y., I observed the eyes of a man wearing a moustache fixed on nre.
Moustaches were not so common then as they are now, and I was by no
means enamoured with the face of the stranger. As I went to the
opposite side of the monument, the verger who Ascribed the Abbey spoke

Digitized by VjOOQIC

The Casket. 615

aloud : " This figure has lost its head, which is supposed to have been of
solid silver, and to have excited the avarice of Oliver Cromwell, or his
adherents." At the moment I caught sight of the man with the moustache
peering at me through the crowd. *'If the statue has lost ita head,**
thoucrht I, ^ that is no reason why I should lose my note ; " and with that
I took the first favourable opportunity of leaving the place.

I hare a strange, confused remembrance of this scene, as well as of the
brass-work, beautiful ceiling, stalls of brown wainscot, with Gothic
eanopies finely carved, and curious statues of patriarchs, saints, martyrs, and
confessors in Henry the Seventh's chapel ; but I never can recal these
things to my remembrance without once more conjuring up the phantom
that scared me from the Abbey, even that hated face with the moustaches
and peering eyes. * * * '* My next adventure was in Holbom, where
I had the horror to find myself suddenly in the midst of a London crowd.
Soon the cry was raised, " Take care of your pockets ! '* ** An admonition "
said I, " altogether nnnecessary, so far as it respected myself, the care of my
pocket being my chief and almost my only concern. It would be no easy
thing to describe the half of what I felt in that crowd. With my clothes
torn, and my whole frame fevered with apprehension, I at length succeeded
in making my way to my Inn.

It would be tedious to dwell on my visits to other celebrities of London,
for they were all so mingled with apprehension ds to partake of the same .
character as those already described. One thing I was thoroughly convinced
of, that whatever advantages a thousand -pound note could confer, it could
also call up in the mind a thousand fears. If I wished to plague the heart
of an enemy unaccustomed to the possession of money, hardly need I desire
for him any other visitation than that of having suddenly a thousand-pound
note of his own to take care of."

THE CASKET.

LOVE.

Love makes dmdgery delightftil. It forgets self, and lives for others.
Love outruns law, and leaves it far behind. Not to be able and permitted
to serve is a penalty. The question is not, " What must I do ? " but,
" What may I do t *' To give pleasure is its joy. To grieve its object is to
grieve itself. Love is the secret spring of the believer's life ; and this
makes him often pass in the world for an enthusiast. It stops at nothing.
Mountains of difiicnlty are no more to it than plains. It clasps the cross
and kisses it. Love strengthened Mary, when the soldiers quaked with
fear. Love kept her hovering round the sepulchre, when all the disciples
were scattered to their own homes. Love has a joy of its own, ^vhich a
stranger cannot understand. It is fed by the unseen Spirit of God, whilst"
reposing on an unseen Saviour. To lose life for Him is to gain it. To
suffer martyrdom for Jesus, is to isee Him standing at the right hand of
God, waiting- to welcome His servant into glory.

THB DUKE OF KENV.

The following anecdote of the late Duke of Kent, the father of Queen
Victoria, is worthy of record —

His Boyal Highness the late Duke of Kent, during his illness, asked his

fhysician if he was accustomed to pray ] ** Please your Royal Highness, I
iope I say my prayers ; but shall I bring a prayer-book T' ** No," was the
reply, ^ what I mean is, if you are accustomed to pray fot yourself, you

Digitized by VjOOQIC

576 The Casket.

could pray forme in my present situation." The doctor then asked if be
should cab the Duchess ? '* Do/' said the Prince. The Duchess came, and
offered up a most affectionate prayer on behalf of her beloved husband.

On another occasion, when the Duke expressed some concern about the
state of his soul in the prospect of death, his physician endeavoured to
soothe his mind by referring to his high respectability and his honourable
conduct in the distinguished situation m which Providence had placed him,
when he stopped him short, saying, " No, remember if I am to be saved, it
is not as a pnnce, but as a sinner.''

When his Boyal Highness felt that he was approaching the termination
of his earthly career, he desired the infjEuit princess to be placed before him
while he sat up in bed. In this position he offered most affecting prayer
over her, the last part, of which was to this effect, if not in this very lan-
guage, that, '* if ever this child should be Queen of England, she might role
in the fear of God.'* Having uttered these words, he said, *' take the child
away,'' and this was ihe last time he ever beheld her.

These particulars I received from the late Kev. Legh Bichmond, chap-
lain to his Boyal Highness, and he had them from the medical geutlemau
himself (now, I believe, also dead), when they were travelling together to
attend the funeral, — They appeared too interesting to be left unrecorded,
especially when we recollect the relation his Boyal Highness bore to the
beloved Sovereign of these realms. — iV. Y. Evans,

HEK OF TASTE.

There are some men who stand on the debatable ground between talent
and genius, without belonging to either ; they have a strong love for all
that 18 beautiful and great ; without the power of producing tnem ; instead
of all the radii of their mind tending, as in men of genius, to a single point,
they stand in the centre, and send forth rays in every direction, but these
antagonistic forces destroy each other.

KNOWLEDOB IS POWER.

' Knowledge is an excellent thing, said a sharp bustling little feUow, to
one who was much wiser than himself ; '* my boys know more at six or
seven years old than I did at twelve ; they have heard of all sorts of things,
and can talk on all sorts of subjects. The world is a great deal wiser than
it used to be. Everybody knows something of everytmng now. Do you not
think, Sir, that knowledge is an excellent thing % " *' Why, Sir," replied the
old man, ^^that depends entirely upon the use to which it is applied. It may
be either a curse, or a blessing. Knowledge is only an increase of power,
and power may be a bad as well as a good thing." '^ That is what I can't
understand," said the bustling little man — *' How can power be a bad thing I
"I will tell you," was the reply. "When the power of a horse is under
restraint, the animal is useful in bearing burdens, drawing goods, and
carrying his master ; but when the restraint is off, the horse breaks his
bridle, dashes the carriage to pieces, or throws the rider." <* I see, I see,"
said the little maiL "When the water of a large pond is properly con-
ducted by trenches, it makes the surrounding fields fertile ; but when it
breaks through its banks, it sweeps everything before it, and destroys the
produce of the fields." " I see, I see," said the little man, " I see." ''When
the ship is steered aright, the sail she hoists up enables her sooner to ff^
into port ; but if steemi wrong, the more sail she carries, the £sirther will
she go out of her course." " I see, I see," again replied the little man, " I
see clearly." *' Well, then," continued the old man, " if you see these things
so clearly, I hope you can see, too, that knowledge, to be a good thing,
must be rightly applied. God's grace in the heart will render the know-
ledge of the head a blessing, but without this, it may prove no better than
a curse." « I see, I see," said the little man, "I see clearly."

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

ne Casket, 5Ti

ASSYRIAN IKSCBIPTIONS.
Important Test respecting their Interpretation.

A suggestion was recently made that the skill and good faith of Assyrian
decipherers should be subject to a sort of experimentum crucis; and the
suggestion has been now carried out in a manner which, so far, at anv rate,
as the British public are concerned, ought to set the question definitely
at rest. From among the cuneiform records which are being edited and
published bjr Sir Henry Bawlinson at the expense of the Government, a
long inscription of nearly 1,000 lines was selected for trial. Thi^ inscription
had the advantage, in the first place, of being perfect throughout. It fur-
ther treated of a great variety of matters, embracing, indeed, almost every
subject of either public or private interest relating to the king, Tiglath-
Pileser I. (about B.C. 1200), to whom it belonged ; and it was ccdculated to
tax to the utmost the powers of independent decipherers. Three of the
lithographed copies were accordingly placed in the hands respectively of Sir
Henry Eawlinson, in London ; of Dr. Hincks, in Ireland ; and of Mr. Fox
Talbot, at Laycock Abbey ; and the gentlemen were invited to send in their
translations by a certain day, each under a sealed envelope, which should
be opened by a committee in London, named for the purpose. Dr. Oppert,
of Paris, also, who has made some progress in the study of the inscriptions,
"was admitted, subsequently, at his own request, to join in trial. A jury was
then impailneled of scholars, whose names it was thought would command
general respect. The Dean of St. Paul's consented to act as chairman ; and
the committee was to be formed of Dr. "Whewell, Mr. Grote, the Rev. Mr.
Cureton, Sir Gardner Wilkinson, and Prof. H^ H. Wilson. Their functionis
'were to open the envelopes on an appointed day, and to compare the trans-
lations with each other, — not with a view, however, of testing or deciding
on the merits of the respective translations, which, as a mere question of in-
dividual skill, was of subordinate interest, but in order to satisfy themselves
of the agreement or otherwise, of the independent versions, and to be thus
in a position to give a critical opinion on the validity of the system of inter-
pretation. If the translations were altogether discrepant, it would be evi«*
dent that the decipherers must employ diflferent methods of interpretation,
and that only one of such methods could be right. In fact, the experiment
iirould show that the decipherment had broken down, and that no confidence
was to be placed in the ^translations ; whereas, if the results were identical,
or nearly identical, there would be the strongest reason for believing in the
correctness of the system 6f interpretation, and in the truth of the transla-
tions, because it would be against all calculation that three or four indepen-
dent inquirers could possibly read and understand a long inscription of 1,000
lines in the same way, unless they were working in the right path. Error,
in fact, is manifold, but truth is single ; and in this case it was held, that
if the versions were coincident, they must be true, and that the system
from which they emanated must be true also.

The inquest, as we have above called it, was held on Wednesday, the 20th
of May, at the Rooms of the Royal Asiatic Society, iii New Burlington-
street. Dean Miiman presided, and Dr. Whewell, Mr. Grote, and Sir
Gardner Wilkinson, were in attendance, but Mr. Cureton and Prof. Wilson
were unavoidably absent. The sealed envelopes were opened, and the four
versions were examined and compared, the result being, as we are informed,
that the translations of Sir Henry Rawlinson, of Dr. Hincks, and of Mr.
Fox I'albot, were found to be identical in sense, and very generally in
words also ; whilst it appeared to be merely owing to Dr. Oppert's very im-
perfect acquaintance with the English language that a difficulty was found
in bringing his version into unison with the others. It may be as well to
state, at the same time, that Sir Henry Rawlinson's was the only version

2o

Digitized by VjOOQIC

5lS The Casket.

^hich proceeded continuously from the beginning to the end of the iuBcrip-
tion, encountering all difficulties, and giving the meaning, if not the literal
rendering of every sentence of the whole fifty-five long paragraphs. Dr.
Hincks' envelope merely contained specimen translations of difierent portions
of the inscription, want of time having prevented him from completing the
whole : while Mr. Fox Talbot's version discreetly left the obscure passages
blank. It should be added, that transliterations in the Boman character
accompanied the translations, so that any scholar tolerably versed in the Se-
mitic tongues, but without any acquaintance with the cuneiform character,
might himself judge of the correctness of the translations by a mere exami-
nation of the text^-Atherueum.

BRITISH PROGRESS IV INDIA.

The progress of the British in India is one of the most marvellous circam^
stances in the history of nations. The first British commercial intercourse
with India was in J 591, when a ship from England reached India after a
three years' voyage ! The voyage is now made in less than double that num-
ber of months. \5^hen the Old Fort of Calcutta was besieged, our ^hole
army consisted of but a few hundred British troops and a very few thousand >
Sepoys. The Company's possessions in India in 1756 were the Island of
Bombay and the factories at Surat and Calicut on the West Coast of Hin-
dostan ; on the East, Masulipatam, Madras, Arcot, and Devi-Cattah. In
Bengal, the towns or villages of Chuttanutty (since become Calcutta) and
Govmpore ; lastly, a factory at Bantam in Java. The total possessions at the
time the Old Fort was besieged occupied scarcely a hundred square miles of
land. There was nothing that could be called territory. In this present
year — 1856 — the Company's territories are of vast extent. They are virtu-
ally bounded by Cabul, Beloochistan, and the Arabian Sea on the West, the
Bay of Bengal on the South, the Irrawaddy and the Gulf of Siam on the
East, and the Himalaya Mountains on the North. The provinces eastward
of Calcutta embrace an area of about 190,000 square miles ; those in the
Peninsula of Hindostan and Island of Ceylon occupy an area of about
600,000 square miles ; and from Calcutta to the confines of the Indus and the
Himalaya, the provinces spread over an area of about 690,000 square miles.
The total amount of territory over which the company has now kingly au-
thority and sway is scarcely less than a million of square miles ! The pre-
sent annual revenue of India (exclusive of Oude) is about 30,000,000/. ster-
ling.—JTw^ory of the fall of the Old Fort of Calcutta.

INTERNATIONAL MOBALITT, OR, THE RiaBTS OF MINOR STATES.

We read in a Continental Journal :— All the States of Europe, great and
small, are in a similar way interested in preventing war, for, if war has
broken out, it inflicts positive injnry on them all ; war constitutes for the
community of civilised nations a nuisance, the burden of which increases
according as international relation^ are more developed. Last year we asked
ourselves— how then does it conie to pass that the secondary states were
excluded from the European conferences or congresses,* "Whose object it was
to guarantee pr establish peace 1 How does it come to pass that tbey are
treated like those small shareholders who are excluded from all participa-
tion in the administration of certain companies on the pretext of the
insufficiency ot their share in the concern ? How dbes it come to pass that
the great powers, which are the large shareholders of the Europeon com-
pany, take exclusively upon themselves a task which they nevertheless are
unable to accomplish, as experience only too well proves ? Should not the
secondary states, too, be called upbn to pronounce judgment in questions
on whicli their security depends, and would not their active intervention
render war much more difficult, if not impossible, by m^^g the ordioaxy

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Africa — The Slave Trade v. Lawful Commerce, 579

disturbers of peace accoantable ,to all the nations, whose interests the war
would injure f

These ideas, which were only a short while ajgo looked upon as Utopian—
the revival of those of Abbe St. Pierre— begin at present to be seriously
received, and it is with great satisfaction we read, in letters from Germany,
that it is under serious consideration to invite to the future European
Congress not merely the large, but likewise the small shareholder of the
^European community ; not merely the gre^t powers but also the secondary
states.

'* All nations," it is said, in one of these letters,/* being equally interested
in defending the right, all should take their share in such a salutary work.
The five great powers have constituted themselves supreme judges in
every quarrel which may appear on the horizon of European politics ; bi^t
if the five cabinets are divided in opinion, the political world is shaken to
its foundations. Therefore it should not be anticipated to exclude Prussia
or Sardinia, but the secondary states should rather be invited to join an
Areopagus, before which individual pretensions would have, to bow.*'

AFRICA— THE 9LAVE TRADE v. LAWFUL COMMERCE.

The rapid extension of lawful commerce in the Yoruba country of Wes-
tern Africa, forms reason enough why every attempt to revive the atro-
cious slave trade should be watched with the greatest anxiety. That the
French emigration scheme from Western Africa results in a revival of that
trade is sufficiently proved by the figures furnished by Consul Campbell at
Lagos ; but omitting all considerations of the treasure that has been spent
and the lives that have been sacrificed to destroy this odious traffic, there
are a few facts which ought to operate most strongly upon the minds of
all persons interested in the cause of '^ The Slave l^ade v. Lawful Com-
merce.*'

Abbeokuta is a large town containing from 60,000 to 100,000 inhabi-
tants. Its distance from the coast— say Lagos— is about 60 miles inland.
The town is encompassed by other towns of equal and larger size, teeming
-with active, intelligent, and busy populations, all more or less injured by
the operations of the slave trade. During intervals of repose, the cultiva-
tion of the land and the objects of commerce are prosecuted ; but no sooner
does the slave razzia take place, than commerce and cultivation are sus-
pended and destroyed. The traveller, as he passes through the' country*
will note scores of villages reduced to mere heaps of bmckened ruins,
where the wretched inhabitants have been driven into merciless slavery to
feed the rapacity of Cuba and America. This system is the great curse of
Africa and the great hindrance to the proper development of the soil ; the
people themselves, when not excited by the slave trade, are ready, active,
and shrewd traders. This country has .already supplied us with large
quantities of palm oil, and cotton is being produced in respectable quan-
tities. There are aJso indigo, tobacco, rice, sugar, cereals, and fruits, as
well as all kinds of articles for domestic use.

The periodical markets connected with the large towns show the capa-
bilities of the country. Take that of Abbeokuta, for example : Here are to
be seen tronar, from the far interior^ used for dying ; cornelian beads from
Hlorin, popo beads fh)m Ife, native woven cloths, Shea butter, onions, guns,
powder, ironware, common red earthenware pots, bowls, platters, and
Cobaoco-pipes, native garments, caps, &c^ knives, implements and tools
from iron smelted in native furnaces, grass mats, and wicker baskets ; bees-
wax, groand-nuts, yams, com, beans, and vegetables in great variety ; fruits^

Digitized by VjOOQIC

680 Africa — The Slave Trade v. Lawful Commerce,

comprising oranees, limes, pine apples, plantains, bananas. Pine apples are
consumed by children as common apples are in £ng:land. Indigo, pepper,
ginger, cotton wool, goats, lambs, kids, fowls, tnrkejs, and pigeons, form
additional items in the almost inexhaustible list. These various articles are
disposed of in an^ orderly manner, each in a distinct department of the
market. Cooked food, native beer, and fruits are hawked through the
streets. The town-crier, with his native bell, makes public announcements,
so that they possess some of the elements of civilised life. The native
blacksmith as yet works but on a stone anvil, and his bellows are of rude
construction ; the carpenter splits up his planks with wedges, and smooths
them with an adze; the weaver makes a narrow, but strong cloth; the
women conduct the spinning and dying processes ; women also tread clay
for the builder, who raises his wall with round or oval-shaped pellets,
answering to bricks. The presenpe of English missionaries has already
excited a taste for improvement in the various arts of life, and little commis-
sions are frequently sent to England by the natives. Abbeoknta has at
present several churches, schools, and mission dwellings, all of them show-
ing more or less useful examples of improvement. A printing-press is in
operation, mills, cotton presses, English tools, &c. A large public clock is
being put up, and other signs of progress are being exhibited ; and withoat
going into any debateable ground upon the missionary work, it is an unde-
niable fact that the missionary ever carries with him plans and principles of
advancement which the native mind readily appreciates. Suddenly, all
these marks of progress are to be obliterated, the slave trader is again
at work stimulating the native chiefs by promises of enormous gains ; they
too readily enter into the alluring snare, and all the channels of lawful trade
and industry are to be stopped, as the demands from the coast are pressing
and urgent. The horse-leech is again crying, " Give, give.**

Turn for a moment from Yoruba to its western neighbour — the Daho-
mey country. Here is one of the fruitful fields of the slave trade. The
King of Dfthomey is a notorious slave-hunter ; during three or four months
of the early part of every year he is occupied in attacking and destroying
defenceless towns and villages. He maintains a large standing army 12,000
strong, the larger proportion of which are ferocious Amazons — women
trained to slave-hunting and ever thirsting for blood ; no ordinary towns
can withstand their furious onset ; they are clothed with short drawers
a tunic of native stuff ; their arms are a long Danish musket, a club, and a
sharp sword. Every slain foe is decapitated, and thousands of human
heads and skulls are stored up at Abomey, the capital town of Dahomey.
Such are the fruits of the slave trade, and only a portion of its horrors—
this, indeed, horrible enough. A rescued victim (a young negro girl) out
of the hands of the Dahomey murderers, is at present under English in-
struction through the kindness of her Majesty the Queen, who, together
with hep Royal Consort, have ever taken a deep interest in the cause of
the poor trodden-down African.

The progress that Abbeobuba had made in commerce and civilisation
very naturally excited the indignation of blood-thirsty Dahomey. A for-
midable attack was made upon the devoted town in March, 1851, by the
ferocious Amazons— 6000 in number — with 10,000 men ; they were, how-
ever, providentially driven back with great loss. Year after year since then,
the Dahomeys have thirsted for revenge, and the present aspect of things
in Africa will but whet their thirst for the blood of the Abbeokutans, who
80 signally defeated them in 1851.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

58X

RELIGIOUS INTELLIGENCE.

SWANSEA.

Since Mr. Baron has been among us, our congregations have greatly
improved, and several additional sittings have been let in the chapel. There
is also a holy influence attending every means of grace. The church is
getting more alive to its duty, and sinners are being awakened to a sense of
their danger.

At last quarter day, October 6th, twelve were proposed for Church-mem-
bership, two or three of whom were impressed under the preaching of Mr.
Green, and some of the others under the preaching of our present and highly
^steemed pastor Mr. Baron. May the Lord give fa^m many more for his hire
In this place.

There has been also a great burden removed from the shoulders of the
church lately : for. two years no interest money had been paid, and the
gentleman who had kindly lent the money to build the chapel, pressed us
very hard for the interest, but doubtless it was from being influenced by ** the
Prophets," who thought it high time that their predictions should be fulfilled
respecting *' the closing of the doors," and **' the sale of the building ;" but at
the last quarter-day, when this case came before the meeting, we found
** The Lord of hosts was with us, and the God of Jacob was our refuge ;"
then Captain J. Hoskins came forward unsolicited, and advanced thirty
pounds, being the whole of the interest money due : what effect this will have
upon pur '* wise, men" we know not, but it had a very good efiect upon him
ivith whom we had to do, may God bless him, and grant unto our brother
Hoskins a good return in this world, and in the better one to come *' A crown
that fadeth not away."

'^ Mr. Baron is also making an effort to pay the ground-rent without drawing
it from the chapel funds, and we expect in a short time he will succeed, then
our chapel will be in floating circumstances as far as financial matters are
concerned, and we shall be enabled with the church of old to invite our
enemies to "Look upon Zion,*' Isaiah xxxiii. 20—22, and while they gaze we,
will triumphantly sing **The Lord is our Judge ; the Lord is our Lawgiver;
the Lord is our King, he will save us."

Yours in behalf of the church,
Swansea, Nov, I2th, 1857. J. H. A.

The following is an account of the anniversary of the Sunday-school in
connection with the ** Wesleyan Reform Church, Mumbles.

On Sunday, September 27th, the Ahniversary sermons were preached
morning and evening by the Rev. J. Baron, minister of the ** United Metho-
dist Free Churches," and in the afternoon an address was given by the same
.gentleman to the children, which was highly interesting, being interspersed
with appropriate anecdotes ; the children of the Baptist Sunday-scboui were
also present to hear the address *, the congregations were good ; and the
collections in advance of last year.

On the following Tuesday the children met at an early hour in the
afternoon, and went in procession through the village, carrying beautiful
banners, on which were written Scriptural passages, and other telling mottoes.
After the children retiKned to Khe school, they were bountifully regaled with
tea and cake, and then dismissed to their own homes.

At five o'clock a public tea meeting was held in the chapel, which
was beautifully decorated with flowers of various kinds ; this called forth the
admiration and compliments of the visitors. Upwards of one hundred and
twenty sat down' to a rich repast. ^

The tea being over and the tables removed, a public meeting commenced,
and the chair was taken by Mr. G. Clements, superintendent of the school,
who, after making a few remarks, called upon Mr. Jones to address the
meeting. Mr. Jones laboured to show ** The importance of Sabbath-school
tuition," and then '*the responsibility and nature of the teacher's work.'' He
was followed by the Rev. J. Baron, who in the first place complimented the

Digitized by VjOOQIC

582 Religious Intelligence.

female managers of the meeting, and then showed the necessity of ednca-
tion — the vast amount of machinery which has heen put into operation
to meet the educational wants of the age — the apathy among the lovrer
classes with regard to education—^ the connection of education with the de-
velopment of character — its relation to the social condition of the world;
and lastly its connection with the suhlime destiny of the souls of men.
After this address, which was listened to with ^eat attention, Mr. W.
Clements rose and thanked the kind friends for their liberal support towards
the school, then nointed out the various encouragements the teachers had
before them, also tne rich reward which will follow their assiduous and self-
denying labours. The meeting closed with singing and prayer.

In behalf of the school,
Sivaruia, Nov. I2ih 1857. J. H. A.

TAVISTOCK CIRCUIT.

Gt7iririSLAKE!.

Our chapel here beingp burdened with fin excessive debt, and suhjecting
some of our friends to mconvenience and risk, we have just been making
some efforts in order to lessen our heavy liabilities. With a society numbering
under a score of members, our debt upon the property amounts to con-
siderably above two hundred pounds. Happily, however, during the last
two months, our congregations have largely increased, so that we
have now as many worshippers as at any other place in the circuit; and
what is better than this, several souls have been brought to tiod, and many
others are beginning to cry after salvation. Hallelujah.

On Sunday, November 8th, 1857, two sermons were preached by our
respected minister, the Rev. £. D. Green, when at both the afternoon
and evening service scores of persons went away, unable to get in. The
afternoon sermon was principally addressed to young men. The collections
were liberal, and after the evening service the wail of distress, and the
bursting shout of triumph, chimed in, most harmoniously with the prayers and
yearnings of Israel's redeemed sons.

* On the following day, Monday the 9th, we held a public tea-meeting, when
about 120 sat down to the social cup, highly pleased with the material enter-
tainment. The tea had been gratuitously provided by the joint service
of Wesleyan, Baptists, Bible Christians, and our own friends. After the trays
had been removed, a lecture was delivered by the Rev. £. D. Green, on "the
wants of the age," Mr. H. Wilkinson in the chair. During the evening
several anthems were sung at different intervals by the choir in attendance.
The chapel was as full as it could hold, above 300 persons being present, and
between one and two hundred had to turn away from the doors for lack of
room.

A collection was made during the course of the evening, and after thanks
to the ladies, the singers, and the lecturer, the excited meeting broke up,
highly pleased with their evening's enjoyment.

We are expecting by these services to realize not less than 12/.^ It is
pleasing to find that most of the congregations in this circuit are experiencing
a manifest enlargement, and the "one thing needful" is the living breath
** from the four winds.*' Heaven grant us this desideratum.

FIRST BLACKBURN CIRCUIT.

Ov£R DaRWEN.

It may be interesting to some of the friends in the Connexion to learn that
during the past year, an extra and successful effort has been made to "clear
off' the debt which remained upon our chapel in Over Darwen. At the com-
mencement of the year, four gentlemen in connection with the place, kindly
proposed that they would give twenty-five pounds each towards the liquidation
fund, providing the congregation would raise a hundred. The offer wss
accepted with a good feeling, and the committee are happv to state, that
although trade has been dull in this district for some time, and the position of
the working class in general has been all but promising, tney have succeeded
not only in raising the hundred pounds, but in wiping off the entire debt*

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Religious Intelligence, 583

At the annual tea-meeting, held on Monday, the 19th of October, the following
Report of the proceedings of the committee was read —

•* In presenting a brief report of their doings during the past year, the com-
mittee have pleasure in stating that their endeavours have been seconded with
a hearty amen and goodwill, which have rendered their duties compara*
lively light, but at the same time eminently successful. They regarded it as
a duty devolving upon them to tender at once their sense of gpatitude for the
kind reception with which their few arrangements have met After the
executive had been appointed at the last yearly meeting, they deemed it
necessary to commence the work of removing the debt in Earnest, and in a
few days held their first meeting, when a series of districts was laid out in the
town, with collectors for the same, whereby the congregation mi^ht be
enabled to contribute to the movement. A system of collecting in the
school was also originated, in order that the scholars and teachers might be
furnished with a convenient opportunity of supporting the general fund.
The result of these arrangements, the committee are happy to state, has been
greatly encouraging. The school has done nobly, the congregatitm have
worthily seconded its efforts, and the friends have contributed in a manner
deserving the thanks of all those who feel interested in the movement. The
committee tender their sincere acknowledgments to Messrs. Hawarth, Place,
Bead, and Hayes, for the eloquent and energetic appeals which they made on
behalf of the cause, at the two tea-meetings held during the year. They
also feel it to be a special duty incumbent upon them to express their warmest
sense of gratitude for the services rendered by the ladies' committee, in
raising subscriptions for the tea-meeting on Easter Monday. They think
that in this instance the ladies cannot be too warmly applauded, inasmuch as
they not only made all arrangements for the gathering, but succeeded in col*
lecting a very important sum to present to the general fund. And now that
the year is past, and the effort has been made, the committee in presenting
their thanks to all who have contributed to the noble work, beg to congratu-
late them upon the success of the scheme, and they have the greatest plea-
sure in stating that the great burden which was found to be such a drawback
to the progress of both school and church is now removed, the neat little
edifice which is open for devotional exercises is free from debt, and we can
now look forwara with hope to the good time coming. Your committee
would not trouble you with a long recital of the many advantages which are
likely to accrue from the liberality which has been evinced during the
past year. They think it will be apparent to all that increased ministerial
effort is necessary in behalf of the Christian religion inculcated in this place
of worship ; and they think that the means which were formerly needed
to support the interest, and defray in minutiae the principal of debt« can now
be appropriated towards the support of a second minister in the Blackburn
Circuit. Believing as they do that increased ministerial labour will be
followed by consequent increase in the church, school, 'and congregation,
they think no one will regret having supporte'd so promising an object, but
will agree with us in stating " Our cause is a noble one, and God will speed
the right." The detailed account of the receipts is as follows —

£ s. d.

To Cash from School during the year 56 14 8

„ „ Congregation and Fund . . . . 124 3 10
„ „ Ladies* Committee on behalf of Easter tea-
meeting 2944

From the Executors of the late Mr. Holt, in remembrance of

the late Mr. and Miss Holt 7 0 0,

Total 217 2 10

The above amount added to sum collected, at the annual liquidation
services, frees the chapel from debt. W. E. H.

Digitized by VjOOQIC

584 Religious Intelligence,

HALIFAX UNITED METHODIST FREE CHURCHES
CHAPEL ANNIVERSARY.

On Lord'g-da:^, November 8th, two verv powerful and eloquent sermons
were preached in Lister-lane chapel by tne Rev. James Everett, of New-
castle, President of the Connexion. The subject of the morning discourse
"The new Birth," and that in the evening, "The great centre doctrine of the
Gospel— the doctrine of the Atonement." On the following evening, the
Rev. Enoch Mellor, M.A. -preached an impressive sermon in the same place,
taking as his text "And they that were ready, went in with him to the
marriage." The congregations were very good ; on the Sabbath evening
overflowing ; the influence pervading the services most hallowed and soften-
ing, and the proceeds of the free-will contributions of the people far
exceeded our most sanguine expectations, amounting altogether to the mag-
nificent sum of 182/. ISs, 6d.

The chapel, with spacious school and class-rooms, was built in 1853, at
a cost of 2,20Qil At tne annual meeting held at Christmas, 1856, the debt
upon the entire premises was brought down to 880/., and by the receipts
of the current year, wc hope to reduce it to 650L

We are thankful in being able to add that we have peace in all our borders,
and some hopeful gatherings to our fellowship, and that our prospects
for further increase are most cheering. ** Not unto us ! not unto us, O Lord,
but tin to thy name be all the glory."

NANTWICH CIRCUIT.

The new chapel at Nantwich, the foundation-stone of which was laid
on the 30th of March, by our venerable old friend Mr. R. Horton, was
opened for Divine worship, on Sabbath the 18th of October. On the first
Sabbath appropriate sermons were preached, in the mqrning by the Rev.
George Robinson, Circuit. Minister, and in the afternoon and evening by
the Rev. M. Baxter of London. The congregations were good during the
whole of the services ; in the afternoon the chapel was full, and in the
evening it was crowded in every part. On Monday evening we were
favoured with the services of the Rev. M. Miller, of Manchester. Oa
the following Sabbath, the morning service was conducted by the Rev. E. L
Adams, Independent minister; the afternoon and evening by the Rev.
R. Eckett of London ; we were again favoured with excellent congregations;
both afternoon and evening the chapel was filled from end to side, and many
in the evening could not gain admission, a powerful impression was made on
many, while the preacher forcibly set forth Christ's power to save. The col-
lections from all the services amounted to the very handsonae sum of
99L I2s, ed. The .hberality of the people 1 eld out well, the last collections
being by far the largest, — exceeding 40/, To God be all the praise.

On the Monday following we held a public tea-meeting. After partaking of
gopd tea and excellent cake, which was gratuitously furnished in abundance,
we held a public meeting in the chapel, John Petrie Esq., of Rochdale, pre-
sided, who in a neat opening speech congratulated the friends of Nantwich}
on having obtained an excellent and commodious chapel, and expressed
his hope that it would be the birth-place of many souls. The meeting
was addressed by the Revs. W. Reed, E. L. Adams, R. Eckett, Messrs
J. Thon^pson of Northwich, and G. Slater. Messrs Eckett and Slater having
been at the Berlin Conference of the Evangelical Alliance, gave us an
interesting account of the proceedings of the conference, &c. Thanks were
then proposed by the Rev. G. Robinson to the chairman, speakers, and choir,
who had added to the pleasures of the evening by performing several pieces
from the great masters of music. The motion was seconded by Mr. R«
Horton, and carried unanimously. Mr. Petrie having acknowledged the
' thanks, iirging us to union and effort, the meeting was concluded. The
friends having spent a pleasurable and profitable evening, the services
connected with the opening of our new chapel will live long in the meniory of
many, having been to them seasons of refreshing. The ladies who furni^ed

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Religious Intelligence, 585

the tables gratuitously, are Mrs. Talbot, Mrs. Dickinson, Mrs. Horton, Mrs.
Dale, sen., Mrs. Dackers, Mrs. W. Dale, Miss Davies, Mrs. Robinson, Mrs.
Xiigbtfoot, Mrs. Hassal), Mrs. Nickson, Mrs. Davenport, Mrs. Wright. Tea
was gratuitously given to the choir. Miss Knbkwon presided at the table.
We realized from the tea 26/. L6«. 6(f. making 'with the collections the
handsome sum of 126/. 9«. Many of our friends gave on the principle
of sacrifice, they gave liberally out of their little. It is cheering to the heart
of a minister to labour with a devout and willing people.

Our principal object in building this sanctuary, this house of prayer, is the'
extension of our common salvation. We shall stand side by side with sister
churches in labouring for the enlightenment and reformation of this town. I
trust that we shall be second to none in our efforts to bring guilty, ruined man
back to God. We trust and pray that the walls of our new sanctuary
may never echo to any name but the name of Christ, that there in all time to
come his Gospel may be faithfully preached, that it will be the birth-place
of many who shall shine as stars for ever and ever, and that there the name of
God may be known and glorified as the God of Salvation. This house
we have erected, shall stand here a monument to declare that there is a com-
merce nobler than that of silver or gold, a loftier charity than that which
regards the physical necessities of man, a sublimer philosophy than that of
earth, it shall stand to witness for God and his truth ; here men shall be
taught the sublime science of salvation ; here they shall learn that the way
of salvation, the way to Heaven, is the way of holiness.

I^antwich. G. Robinson.

WINCHESTER CIRCUIT.

On the 30th of September, the friends, at Houghton, held their annual tea
meeting. The floral decorations of the chapel exhibited great taste and
beauty, and were such as we should suppose, even you, Mr. Editor, in your
numerous travels but seldom see. The company to tea was so numerous that
all could not at once be accommodated. The meeting in the evening was
crowded to excess, and was addressed by the Revs. Collins (Independent),
Vernon (Baptist), our own Minister, our excellent friend, S. T. Cliamberlain,
brother Wake, a local preacher, just leaving for America, and Mr. Harding, a
Baptist friend, wiio was chairman. The influence was a gracious one. We
believe serious impressions were made on some minds, which, we trust, will
not be eradicated. We are still hoping this *' desert drear " will yet bloom
as the garden of the Lord. The audience remained entire to the last, and
very reluctantly consented to close the meeting at the hour which was consi-
dered by the friends advisable.

STOCKTON CIRCUIT.

On Monday evening last, the members of the United Methodist Free Church
celebrated, the anniversary of their union by a tea meeting, which was held
in their chapel in Regent Street ; and, as -a token of the high esteem felt by
them for their minister, the Rev. Edmund Hey wood, it was announced that
the proceeds would be presented to him. A large number assembled, and
enjoyed one of the most excellent teas, having regard to both quantity and
quality, that ever was provided at the hands of ladies. A meeting was held
after tea, at which tbp Rev. A. Keene, of Sunderland, presided. He spoke
very highly of Mr. Heywood as an old friend, and was glad to find that the
Stockton people appreciated him as they did. The Revs. A. Stewart, J. Wood-
burn, and W. Clemit&on, Mr. Briggs, and others, addressed the meeting,
speaking of the advantages of the union they were met to celebrate, and all
of them joining in commendation of Mr. Hey wood's zealous, arduous, and
unremitting labours in the cause of truth and progress. Mr. He.vwood
expressed his gratitude for the honour they had done him, and was happy to
find that his endeavours to do good had been at all successful. Our readers
may remember that Mr. Heywood is the gentleman whose lectures on the
"Wesley Family " were so popular a few months ago. — Northern Daily Express .

Digitized by VjOOQIC

586 Religious IntelUgenee,

BRISTOL CIRCUIT.
To the Editor,— Dear Sir,

A half-yearly meeting of the Bristol United Methodist Free Churchet
Sabbath School Union, was held on Tuesday evening* November 3rd, in
Milk Street chapel. Tea was taken in the school and large qlaas-room
below. The chapel afterwards waa nearly full ; our beloved minister, the
Rev. J>. Garside, presided over the meeting } and though the evening was very
unfavourable, through much rain, he remarked, in his excellent address, that
the weather had not damped the interest the friends have in Sabbath Schools:
the good results from such schools were clearly pointed out, and an earnest
appeal was made to teachers to pertevere in the work of teaching. He
also recommended fervent and continual prayer for themselves, and the chil-
dren under their care.

Tlie Assistant Secretary read the report, part of which alluded to a Sunday
School canvass that had taken place in the citj, and informed the meeting
that the members of our Connexion bad aided the Sunday School Canvass
Committee ; some by being members of that committee, others as canvassers.
The result has been that of adding to the Sabbath Schools a large number
of the 10,000 children that were known to be in and about tlie city not under
religious instruction, but doing mischief on the Sabbath da^, and otherwise
desecrating it. The remaining part of the report contained statements
respecting the local affairs of the Union.

The greater part of the superintendents addressed the meeting, read the
reports of their schools, and gave interesting accounts of good done in them ;
several scholars, since the last meeting, had been added to the schools, many
had become members of society, and others, who are under serious impressions,
are expected soon to be soundly converted.

A superintendent of one of the schools has established a week evening
class in his house, consisting of twenty of the elder scholars (females) to study
the Bible. He read two interesting letters written to him by some of them,
on the History of Joseph ; the subject matter contained therein surprised,
pleased, and delighted the meeting.

The meeting was favoured with the presence of Mr. Gould, the Secretary
of the Sunday School Union of ludepenaents and Baptists, who had taken a
very prominent part in the Sunday School Canvass. He addressed the meeting,
and said, that he felt it 'to be a deeply solemn occasion, having heard that
evening of one who was formerly actively engaged in the Wesleyan Methodist
Sunday School Society being suddenly called this morning from time into
eternity ; that teaching was either a sweet savour of life unto life, or of death
unto death, and urged diligence in the duty. He said that youth was more
plastic than age, and that, lor aught the teachers knew, they bad committed
to their care some of the gems that will adorn the diadem of our Saviour.
He rejoiced in the fact that so many teachers were savingly acquainted with
the truth.

In this Union we have 14 schools, 26 superintendents, 321 teachers, 2487
scholars. Of the 321 teachers there are 256 members of our society, and 22S
of the teachers were formerly scholars in our schools. There are also 256 of
the scholars members of our society. Since the last meeting 143 scholars
have been added to our schools, and an increase of 283 scholars at the aiter-
noon teaching.

Messrs. Lawes, Williams, and others^ gave useful addresses.

Our beloved minister, the Rev. J. Garside, concluded the meeting by prayer;
and all retired from the interesting meeting much gratified and profited with
what they had seen and heard.

I am, dear Sir, yours respectfully,

James Rees, AssUtant Secretary,

Brigtol, Nov. Uth, 1857.

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

CONTENTS.

PAOK

TBEOLoor, &e.

Shadows of the Past, Dawnings of

the Future 1, 57, H)6

The Languages of the Bible 9

Reformatory Schools ....• 16

Paul on Mars Hill 30

The Nile ; the Jordan ; and the Tiber 32

TheSoul 35

Mother's Address to a Dying Infant 35

"The Hour is Come" 67

The Jews after the Destruction of

Jerusalem 78

What this Year may bring 94

Enthusiasm 112

Hints on Usefulness 114

Godliness Viewed in connection with
Temporal Things .. 115, 316, 460, 520

Congregational Singing .124

Mental Philosophy 126

Life in Manchester 133

TiMB—1. How to improve it 134

2. Study order 135

3. AToid delays 135

4. Earnestness, the secret of success 135

The Pyramids 136

The interest Angels take in the

Scheme of Redemption 153^ 249

The Christian Sufferer 165

Moral Philosophy 182

Love your Enemies 188

Employ your spare Time 188

Underground Preaching 1 89

The Power of Godliness 201

The Christian's Great Work 207

Purgatory 224

The Sabbath 233

A Minister's Wife 259

Germs of Thought 260, 511

Pulpit Eloquence 305

The Mustard-secd Era 314

Knowledge 324

Bernard Palissy 353 '

Adaptations between the Terrestrial

and Celestial Economies 363

Religious Superiority 365

Twenty-one Reasons for Open-air

Preaching 390

Human Life 391

The Moral Condition of Hamburgh.. 39'A

Mutual Prayer 401

The Two Mhuiacs 439

I know not the Day of my Death . . 449

Sabbath Schools (Essay) 454

An Aged Saint in a Poor-house .... 465

Can these Dry Bones live ? 466

An Heir omitted in the Will 469

Scepticism not Rationalism 470

United Methodist Free Churches
Missions 497

More Bi&lrs and Fewer Novels .... 506

The Pursuit of Knowledge under
Difficulties 834

The Attestetion of Divine Authority
and Evangelical Enterprises 545

MI8CELLANBA.

A Short Sermon on Diotrephes .... 37

Ambition 38

A Door Keeper in the House of the

Lord 125

Friends in Council 139, 178

Sunday Pleasuring 190

The Pit Boy 190

The Value of a Wise Servant 213

Wicklitfe's Bible and his Colporteurs 233

Britiiih Colinization 234

Hiuts to Preachers • 277

Mbsions and Civilization 275

India, Past and Present 380

The Fruit of Ragged Schools 284

Amaliramation, an accomplished Fact 286
The Grandeur of Palmyra, and dueen

Zenobia 408

Report of the Proceedings of the

Annual Assembly 409

Thoughts on Art and Art Exhibitions 476

The Voice of a Star 480

A Railway Journey in India 538

The Chinese Language in Roman

Characters 539

• Egotism 551

The Price of a Ride 553

Motives to the Acquisition of Know.

ledge 555

An Address of the United Methodist

Free Churches 562

Singular, but True 573

Africa— The Slave Trade o. Lawful

Commerce 079

Remi niscences —

The late Dr. Chalmers 73

Harris 75

The late Mr. John Lee, of Hey wood 513

Books and Authors —

Dr. Blair 80

Jean Jacques Rousseau 82

Sir T. Brown and Jeremy Taylor ., 226

Platform Sketches —

Ireland and the Gospel 272

Difficulties attendant on Missionary

Efforts 273

Cathedral Towns and Evangelical

Effort 274

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

588

CONTENTS.

PAOK
The Gospel, the only Panacea for

Human Woe 274

Correspondence^

liCtter on the Amalgamation 335

Lead us not into Temptation ' 337

Impolicy of Monday-Night Preaching 337

BiooaAPHT.

Mr. William Wilson, Manchester ... 19
Mr. George Rippon, South Shields .. 36

William Fielding, Todmorden 28

Mr. W. D. Harrison, Eckington 86

Mr. Charles Byrne, Liverpool 91

Mr. Samuel Edwards, Chirk 93

Elizabeth Greenwood Il6

William Evans 118

John Boothman 119

George Frost 122

Mrs. Maria Bethune, of Jamaica ... 171

Mrs. Sylvia Home, ditto 175

Mr. C. Green, of Winchester 215

Mr. James Ashton, of Manchester.. 217
Mr. George Marshall, of Thornse . . 222
Mr. Francis Qatenley, of Stockton. . 262
Mrs. Nanny Whitaker, of Stockport 267
Mr. John Poster, of Sunderland.. .. 325
Mrs. Martha Edwards, of Frodsham 331

Mr. G. Stewart, of Leeds 368

Mr. S. Farrall 372

Christopher Walsh 523

Nicholas Whitaker, of Leeds ...... 563

Mrs. Mirfin, of Leeds 567

Rbcbnt Dbatbb.

Mr. G. J. Millar, of Worcester 177

Mr. Brooke, of Hunslct 272

Mrs. Abram, of Leeds 272

Mrs. E. Banks 373

Mr. T.Dewsnup »75

Mr. Joah Mnllinson 489

Mrs. Jane Hey wood 489

Mr. Williams Draper 490

Miss Betty Eastwood 568

Miss Sarah Hartley 568

Review and Cbiticissc.

Voices of Many Waters 28

The Bards of Epworth 35

The Unity of the Faith 35

The Pious Hawker 35

Christian Union 36

Brother born for Adversity 36

Notes on Original Words 36

Suggestions for Christian Union. ... 2(6

Jesus reve&liiig the Heart of God . . 36

The Image of the Invisible God .... 36

The lilcctro-Chemlcal Bath 36

The Controversy— What Results ? .. 37

The Three Crosses of Calvary 96

Grammar at Sight 97

Memoir of James Hutton 97

Elements of Mental & Moral Science 126

Thoughts and Aphorisms on the .

Christian Life 133

The Litcrarium 133

The Desert of Sinai 136

Our Christian Classics 137

PAOK

Centenary Commemoration of the
Opening of the Tottenham Court

ChapeU London 13a

SsBCula Tria: An Allegory of Life

— Past, Present, ancTto Come .... 13S
Payne's Elements of Mental and

Moral Science (No. II.) 182

Glimpses of our 'Heavenly Home, or

the Destiny of the Glorified 186

The Virgin Widow 187

My Word Book (No. III.) to my

Bible 187

Entire Devotion 187

Sketches of the Rev. Dr. Livingston's
Missionary Journeys and Disco-
veries in Central South Africa. ... 187

Blenheim 187

TheShekinnh 188

Words of Comfort for Bereaved

Parents 188

Band of Hope, No. 73 and 74 188

British Workman, Nos. 25 and 36 •• 189

The r I nsealed Prophecy 231

The Great Redemption 231

Memoir of T. Batty 232

Gotthold's Emblems 232

Upward and Onward •• 233

Motives to Holiness 23S

The Ottoman Empire 282

Historical Tales for Young Protes-

tonts , 282

The Annotated Paragraph Bible .... 283

Exhibition Flowers 283

Early Grace with Early Glory 283

Practical Hints on the Management

of the Sick Room 283

Voluntary and Religious Education .. 283

Spurgeon's Critics Criticised 338

Man in Earnest 343

Shirley Hibberd's Garden Favourites 343

Chrisiian Cabinet 343

The Library of Biblical Literature . . 343

The Electro-Chemical Bath 344

Josiah Conder 438

Leaves from a Journal 439

Feejean Princess 439

On Health 439

Wesleyan Scenes 439

Life in Israel 439

Catechism of Popery 472

The Primitive Pulpit 472

Nelson's Essays «73

*' Gnomon" of the New Testament... 533

Pspers for the Peopie 584

The Evangelical Clergy of the Church

of Kngland 537

The Shekinah 537

Earnest Christianity illustrated, with
a brief Sketch of the Rev. John

Caughey's Life 571

Caugbey's Letters 571

The Christian Almanack 1858 672

Notes on the Scripture Lessons. .. . 572

Wayside Books 572

Persons and Places. 672

The Young Envelope Maker 672

Digitized by VjOOQ IC

CONTENTS.

589

PAOB

Come Home 573

The Sunday-scholars Almanadc for

1858 572

The Happy and Useful Christian.. . . 573
The Testimony of Methodism to the

Temperance Movement 573

India 573

Our Home Islands 573

Publications Received... 87, 139, 284, 673

Thb Casket.

The Elevation of Woman 40

Not to be envied after all 41

Advice to Young: Preachers 42

How to remove a Minister 42

Grace and Peace 43

DoyourBest 44

Confession and Blessing 44

Artificial Religion 46

Humble Hearer 46

The Ruling Passion 46

Worthy of all Love 47

Respiratory Surface in Human Lungs 48

The Medals of Geology 98

Text Sparring 98

Public Instruction .... 98

European DiplomatisU characterised 99

Potemkin and the Taurida 99

The Crown Jewels of Russia 99

Unappreciated Benefactors 99

Thoughts on Death 100

The Closing Scene 143

Real Virtue active 144

The King and the Silver-toned Bell.. 144

Ladies* Influence on elder Lads 146

Admiration and Aspiration 146

Anecdote of Rev. Albert Barnes ,. 146

The Trees in Blossom 147

Philanthropy of Common Life .... 191
Dividing the Bible into Chapters and

Verses 191

Jesus of Nazareth .\ . 191

The Voices of Nature 192

Anecdote of Dr. Wardlaw 1 93

Contentment 193

The Last one Remembered 235

George Fox, the first Quaker 236

Death of Queen Mary 238

Fruits of the Revolution of 1688 .. 240

The Battle of the Boyne 240

King William's Manners 241

The Faults of the Toleration Act . . 242
Motive Power of the Niagara Falls.. 242

A Word to the Sorrowful 243

A Brief Colloquy 243

Life, a Pilgrimage 244

Secret Prayer , 244

Waiting for Heaven 289

He shall appear in His own Glory, in
the Glory of His Father, and in
the Glory of His Holy Angels ... 290
The Wicked, Terror Stricken in the

Terrible Day of the Lord 291

Awake ye Dead, and Come to Judg-
ment , , 291

A Beautiful Allegory 291

Pray much, Pray well 291

The Mind and the Dark Lantern 292

Little Things 292

The Life of a Man 292

Whosoever Will 344

Petrarch on Philosophy and Faith ... 344

Last Words of Goethe 344

The. Day of the Lord will come as a

Thief in the Night 345

One Soul 345

The Catacombs 395

Freemasonry in England 395

Gothic Architecture .., 396

Opium Smoking in China. 396

A Missionary Heart ,' 396

What is it? 397

The Last Day 397

Sayings of Dr. Home 398

Yearnings of the Soul 398

Acquaintance with God 398

He has taken me oflF 441

The Praying Preacher 442

Whately on deerees of Inspiration ... 442
The Moral Influence of Public Jour-
nalism estimated 443

Power of the principle of Association 444

Is my name in the Book of Life 446

Nature's Song in the Night 482

The Child's Gratitude 482

Tm almost Home 483

Blind Beggar's Bank 483

No Night there 434

Vengeance is mine 484

Assurance and Humility 485

The Journey of Life 486

Means of Success 485

Goodness its own-End 486

Self- consecration , 486

The Crown Jewel 437

The Preacher's Work 488

Love 676

The Duke of -Kent 575

Men of Taste 676

Knowledge is Power 676

Assyrian Inscriptions 677

British Progress in India 57^

Rights of Minor States 680

Domestic Associations.

Nothing but a Baby „,.„ n

A Mother's Faith [[ 14 '

The Fireside ,„, 157

Agatha [,\ igs

Rescue of the Outcast 320

The Angels of the Children 321

A Word to bereaved Mothers 322

Men of Business,- their Home Re-
sponsibilities 323

C. F. Swartz 384

The Mother's First Born 388

A Death Scene 389

A Duty Deferred 608

POBTRT.

Review of the last Year 43

Digitized by VjOOQIC

590

CONTENTS.

PAOK

A Child's With 4S

Our Native Land 104

The Head's Response *.... 200

Time shall be longer 248

Lines written on the fly leaf of a Bible 296

FOBTRAIT OAXLKRT.

Character of James 1 279

Oliver Cromwrll 377

George Whitfield - 379

Hugh Miller 625

George Stephenson 527

Dr. Livingstone's Early Days 569

Rblioious Intklligbncs.

Staleybridge Circuit IQO

Stockton Circuit 101 , 150, 845, 585

North and. South Shields Circuit 102, 495

Cheltenham Circuit 103

First London Circuit 147

Brunswick Chapel, Deptford ...... 147

Helston Circuit 148,247

Scarborough 149, 494

Rochdale Circuit 149,247

Middlesborongh— Wesleyan Associa-
tion Tea-party 150

Hartlepool 151

Seaham, Sunderland Circuit 152

Juvenile Missionary Services .... 152

Christmas Festival 152

Grosvenor-street Circuit 1 93

Grosvenor-street Circuit: — Bradford 540

Todmorden Circuit 1 94, 246

Carlisle Circuit 195, 293

Worcester. 195

Swansea 198, 400, 496, 581

Nottingham Circuit 200

Green Heys Chapel, Grosvenor-street

Circuit 244

North Wales 246

Helston Circuit 247

PAGE

Rochdale Circuit 247

St. Martin's, Overton Circuit 292

Worksop 293

Worle Circuit 293

Oldham Circuit 294, 494

Nantwich Circuit 295. 584

Relfield near Rochdale 347

Rawtenstall 348

BailUe-strcet Sunday-school, Roch-
dale 348

A Missionary Tonr in Cornwall .... 351

Liskeard Circuit..... 399

Welsh Mission. . .«. 400

Dalston, in Carlisle District 447

Bristol 447,586

Tavistock 448, 49a, 582

Liverpool: Departure of Messrs.

Sayer and Middlcton 490

Bury 492

Heywood 493

Leeds 494,539

Downham 495

Grosvenor-street Circuit :— Bradford 540

Tavistock Circuit :— Calstock 541

Pimlico Chapel. — Seventh Londoa

Circuit 542

OverDarwen 582

Missionary Notices.

Hamburgh Mission . . • 49, 302

Collingwood, Australia 51

Geelong Circuit, Australia 52

Australia 299

Carrickfergus 54, 297

Wesleyan Methodist Association

H ome and Foreign Mission 54

Cheltenham Circuit ^

Wisconsin 298

Camelford, Wadebridge. and Bodmin

Circuit 304

Batharcuit 304

f . C. Johns, Frintltfi Wins Office Coiirt, ll>ieet 8tfe«f«

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Digitized by VjOOQIC

Digitized by VjOOQIC