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THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUM. Vol. XXXII.—No. 32. Contributions. 0 ■ ,• The Strong Man Bpund- There is 110 fact more Remarkable in, the history of than that they are most often ensnared who are least afraid of temptation The cause of this is understood and dulyapproeiatod by him who has barned/how frail man is, or, in other words, has learned by per sonal experience, what is between the strength of nature and the strength of grace. Not many years ago in one of niy charges, there lived a man who possessed great native pow ers of intellect, and, in the main, was as amiable a man as I ever knew. This man had shared largely in Heaven’s rich blessings. Ilis wife was a para gon of excellence as to her domestic qualifications, and a living monument of the power ot the grace of God. As might be expected of such a mother, she taught her children early to love and serve God. Hut this man, with all his natural superiority, and though having shared so largely in the beneficence of heaven, was a pitiable wreck, and lay at the shrine of Bacchus, hopelessly bound by chains of his own forging. During one of my pastoral visits to bis family, he related to me a briofhistory of his life, and the sad tale of his spiritual down fall. In early manhood, he was a live ly member of the church, and, unlike many backsliders, he never denied having once experienced a sense of sins forgiven, and the love of God shed abroad in his heart, And even then, )io would shed tears freoly, in retro spect! ng the happy days, when ho en joyed sweet and constant communion with God. How wide the difference between that happy period and his present sad captivity. He said, that he was strongly tempted, as many are, to maintain his honor against the as sault of a personal enemy, but having the very highest respect for the church, jjo could not reconcile it with his con science to execute his design, as a mem ber of the church. At length, ho con cluded to withdraw his name from the list of the members of that sacred body, and hushed the yoieo qf a troubled conscience, by promising himself to reunite with them, aftor 110 hadavenged himself of his adversary, ignoring the declaration of holy writ. “Vengeance js mine, I will repay saith the Lord.” Having yielded to this temptation, he began to retrograde rapidly, beeame a victim to intoxication, resisting un gloved the tears and earnest entrea ties of a pious, fond and devoted wife ft was not long before, in a fit of de lirium, gorgon horrors, infuriated dev ils, dancing around him howled for his destruction, Wife and children fled from his presence terror stricken, a»d sought refuge under t'bejr neighbor’s roof. Thus he went on, growing worse the older he grew, until twenty years of such sad experience as this, had passed, when 1 formedhisacquaintaneo. •TTHMirilhi first, lie always talked with me freely, depreciated his sad con dition, and made many promises to reform. One Sabbath morning, 1 passed his house on my way to fill an appoint ment a few miles beyond. 1 had gone but a short distance, when the rain fiegan to fall in copious showers, f pcined up my horse, turned and went back to bis house. 11 0 liad just aroused from a deep sleep of about twenty-four hours length, into which ho had fallen after a tit of delirium tremens. Ho met me upon the threshold and greeted me with his accustomed cordiality, and fade me he seated. I determined to say fiotliing to him on that occasion about his past conduct; for l did not regard slim as ina proper frame qf mind tq appreciate an exhortation. A few minutes only elapsed after my arrival, when he began, “I suppose Mr J. that you have heard of my recent intoxication.’’ f fifliiid not refrain from speaking freely to him, for my heart was full. “Yes,” said 1, “with deep regret I iiave heard •fall. Yours is a deplorable case; for you have not only ruined yoursejf, but you have entailed much qf your dia_- gr«ce upon your dear family. Besides, they have to bear much of your per sonal ill-treatment. Do you know, sit', that you made an attempt to kill your dear wife and children r ■No, sir,” said he, and he burst into a Hood of tears, for when sober, he was as kind a husband as woman ever had, and on this account she had forborne to tell him of his abuse to his family when drunk. For several moments he wept many bitter tears ; then said to me : “Sir, by the grace of God, I’ll never drink another drop of liquor, and I wjll take qn oath before you to day, that f hover will.” “The strength of Goil’s'grace is indeed your only depen dattce,” I answered; but I had hoard of his having sworn several limes to abstain from liquor, but as often vio lated his oath. The rain continued to fall in torrents and detained me at his house the whole of that memorable Sabbath. We spent the day in social, solemn converse, until I announced that night was approaching, and that I must be gone. Said he, “Stop, you must ad minister that oath to me this evening, before you depart,” and rising to his feet, he presented me with the Bible. I lectured him briefly on the solemni ty and obligation of an oath, and told him that the circumstances that sur foupded us on that occasion, the sacred iiess of the Sabbath, the person by whom administered, would render that oath more binding than any that he had ever taken. Said he, “I am fully sensible of the weight of responsibility, and the extent of my obligation, and am determined, by the strength of God’s grace to pay my vows.” His wife sat on my left, and the children near me on the right, all wit nessing the passing scene, all weeping as though their hearts would break. He knelt upon the floor before me, and placed his hands upon the Bible, tyhile the tears flowed copiously down his cheeks, with trembling hand, he prossed the Bible to his lips as the seal of his solemn vow, then in accents bro ken, by heartfelt grief, he articulated, “now pray for me.” We all knelt to pray. Ah ! that was a solemn hour, the mother and her children wept and agonized in their intercessions at the throne of grace, that the husband and father might be able to keep that solemn vow, and turn speedily unto God. We rose from prayer, and after invoking heaven’s blessings upon that household, I departed. For several months he was faithful to his oath, but alas! the chains of his captivity had. not been broken ; for he had promised not to rely in his own strength, but in the strength of the grace of God. Duty soon called me to another field of la bor, and our association ceased ; but I received the painful intelligence, short ■ , - - -■. ■ ■ 1 —— 4 J-l : »- -'■fiVV c • —■-'-MIR. W.’-. 77: —-— ; ’7 r ’ g ; Sanibrttt Christian IMtatalt. ly afterwards, that he had violated his last solemn oath. Now, I have not the slightest shadow of a doubt, as to this man’s sincerity, *and had he God earnestly, and fixed his „b cal MP n< l gaze on things above, be realized that his strsjjfloh was proportioned to the de- his Tlays. Young man, mid dle aged, depend not too much upon yourself. I«gire not how great be your natural^powers of self-control, your danger is imminent every hour. How crafty is thq adversary of souls! He does not beset your pathway with snares whose destruction is glaringly manifest, for this would alarm an en lightened conscience, but gradually does he seek, by various means, to hide from your vision, the deformity of sin, and the awful punishment of its vota ries, and, taking counsel with your car nal desires and the infidelity of your heart, the pit is disguised and you fall head long into eternal death. No con fidence should be cherished in an arm of flesh. The wisest are not exempt from falling by the power of the devil. Shun the smallest of temptations to drink intoxicating liquors, as you would the venom of a serpent, for yielding to a single temptation may be the initia tion of the reign of an imperious hab it, the first link in a chain, which will lengthen with your days and bind you at last in the gloomy regions of the damned. G. S. J, Obedience How much Christ loves a spirit of obedience ! It is, before God “better than sacrifice ” Joy is good—a blessed boon from heaven—peace and calm are excellent beyond expression ; but bet ter than calm and quiet, richer than the gift of joy, is the disposition to obey God Have we not undervalued the spirit ? We are ever, like spoiled children, cry ing after the sweets of our religion, We want our chalice filled with nectar. “I must have extatio joy or die,” says one. (‘I (Jo pot enjoy myself as I wish,” says another, “i am in darkness, un der manifold temptations,” cries a third. Why in darkness? “Because I am tempted, and why so tempted, if a child of God,” says this troubled soul. “Count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations,” says God to this one. (‘Ret the joy come and go as God will,” says the God-man hy his exam ple in Gethsemane. Let this be the ground of yonr rejoicing, that you have a heart to fear God “aud keep all his commandments, always;” the “testi mony of” your (‘conscience that in sim plicity and godly sincerity” you “have had your conversation in the world.” Value this spirit of obedience above all other possessions They that do His will enter into heaven, (‘Whosoever doolh the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is ray mother and sister and brother.” Christ's brother! Dear to Him as Mary and Martha of Bethany—His sister! Doaror still, His mother! Men wor ship the virgin mother, but she who doos His will, is as dear to Him as she, who stood by His cross, and about whom lie cared so tenderly midst His death agonies. Give me the consciousness that 1 fear God, and am humbly endeavoring to do His will, and this Hhall ho piy joy, my constant joy. If God will to. mo more, blessed be His name —if not, i’ll praise Hint for a heart to fear and obey. Let this suifice, “where I am there shall my servants be.” G. 11. Wills. soririne anb fetemnrt. The Dying Heiress Alice was an anlj’ chiid, an heiress. Lovely and accomplished, she lived so; 1 this world, and this world ottered her no ordinary attractions. Idolized by fler parents, and beloved by an accept ed suitor, she knew not the meaning of a wish ungratified. But an unexpected visitor arrived at the mansion. A pale messenger came to Alice. A hectic flush suffused her beautiful face, ren dering it, if possible, more lovely still, The eye of affectiou soon perceived that the seetjs of consumption had been laid, Alice sank by degrees, and as she lay on her couch, surrounded with all the luxuries that wealth could pro cure, began to think how sail it was to leave her loving friends and all her brilliant prospects, and to go—where? where ? Siie could not find an answer satis factory to her soul. Sho sent for the High Ohuroh cler gyman, He came. The family was assembled. He produced a missal. They all kneeled round the bed. He intoned the service for the sick. Having re ceived her confession, and pronounced absolution, he with peculiar genuflex ions, administered the sacrament, and placing his hands 0,1 her, blessed her, and pronounced her a good child of the ohurch. He departed, perfectly satis fied with his own performances, and assuring the parents that all was right. Was Alice satisfied? She had submit ted to all. She had endeavored to join in the service, but in her inmost soul she felt a blank. “Father,” said she, “I am going to die. Where am I going?” The father gave no reply. “Mother, darling, cau yo.u tell me what I grq to do to got to heaven V” No reply save tears. “William, you who were to be the guide of my life, can you tell me any thing of the future ?” No response. “I’m lost!” she exclaimed. “Am I not, father?” Is there anyone who can tell me what I must do to be saved ?” At length the father spoke. “My child, you have always been a dutiful daughter, and have never griev ed your parents. You have regularly attended the Abbey church, und helped in its services, and the minister has performed tho rites of the church, aud expressed himself satisfied with your state.” “Alas! father, I feel that is not en ough. It is no rest to my soul. It is hollow—it is not real. O ! lam going to die, and I know not where I am going. O, the blackness of the dark ness ! Can no one tell me what I can do to be saved ?” Blank despair was depicted on her countenance. Misery overshadowed the circle. They were overtaken by a real danger. Death was in their midst. Eternity was looming before them. They knew not how to answer the ap peal of an immortal soul, awakened to a sense of sin—to a dread of appear ing before God, to the terrors of hell Alice was attended by a little maid, who was in the habit of frequenting a meeting held in a barn in the village, where prayer and praise were offered up in simplicity, and where they sang the old hymns— ‘■Th»ie is a fountain filledarith blond, brawn from Itnmaauel’s rains, And aimers plums-d beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains;” and * I lay my sin<* on Jesuw, Tl»« sp Hless Larr b 01 God ; H-* bears them all and fre*-s as From the accur-ed load;” rhero she heard words that re igi|picd fier of the <mod old p^^r. She IfllTged to tgjJQier that felt diftiilWt. At took and Lust as captive Taid in®> NaStnan’s wife, God, mV 1 ( t Cjgttvipfthe SamajßqjEFne w o 11 1 1 r«h nil x>f hisSpeproMr she s “Ttfcre is jrfTt’eacher/n tbb village who. proclaims salvation, through faith<rq Jesus Christ, anfl**firges us to accept the forgiveness freely offered in the gospel ” “O that I could see him !” exclaimed the dying girl. Alice besought her father to invite the strange preacher to their house; though he thought extraordinary, her wish was law. Again the family were assembled, and the man of God entered the room. • The dying girl, raising herself, appealed to him. “Can you tell me what 1 must do to obtain rest for my soul, and die in peace with God?” “I fear I cannot.” Alice fell back. “Alas!” said she, “and is it so ? Is there no hope for me ?” “Stay,” said he, “though I cannot tell you what you can do to be saved, 1 can tell you what has been done for you. “Jesus Christ, the Saviour God, has completely finished a work hy which lost and helpless sinners may be right eously saved. God, who is love, saw us in our lost and ruined state. Ho pitied us, and in love and compassion sent Jesus to die for us. ‘God so loved the world, that he gave his only begot ten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever lasting life.’ He shed his precious blood on the accursed tree, in the stead and place of sinners, that they might be pardoned and saved. ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shaft bo saved.’ ” “And have I nothing to do?” “Nothing but i.o believe. No doing, working, praying, giving, or abstain ing, can give relief to a conscience bur dened with a sense of guilt, or rest to the troubled heart. It is not a work done in you by yourself, but a work done for you hy another, long, long ago. Jesus has completed the work of our redemption. lie hath said, ‘lt is fin ished.’ Through faith in him you have pardon. It is impossible for a sinner to do ought to save himself. It is im possible to add any thing to the perfect work of Christ. Doing is not God’s way of salvation, hut ceasing from do ing, and believing what God in Christ has already done for you. ‘God has giv en unto us eternal life, and this life is in his Son.’ ” “I do believe that Jesus died on the cross for sinners; but how am 1 to know that God has accepted me f" “Jesus, the God-man, fcua amended into heaven. Ro lias presented his bloofl before God, and has been accept ed for us; and when you believe, you are accepted in him.” The awakened sinner listened with breathless attention. She received the word of God, which revealed Christ to her son!. The glad tidings fell as balm upon her wounded spirit. Her face was lit up with heaven’s sunlight. Looking upward, she exclaimed, “O, what love ! what icraoe 1 fhv blood an>l righteousness My boauly are, my glorious dres>.’ v And in a few days afie departed to be with Christ. Header, were you in similar circum stances.—were you on your death-bed —could you die happy, believing in Jesus? Are you now resting on His finished atoning sacrifice ?—British Her ald. Shall I Lessen my Eternal Joy p “Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart." “No chastoning for the present seemoth to be joyous, but grievous ; nevertheless, afterward it worketh tho peaceable fruits of righteousness to them who are exercised thereby.” “Read that again,” said the invalid, as her friend read aloud these selec tions of Scripture. “I never before noticed the y.eaoniblanoe in the two pas sages. Both contain a metaphor re minding one of the space which inte venes between the seedtime and har vest.” “Yes,” replied her friend ; “the sea son of attiiction is the springtime, when tho soil of the heart is plowed and har rowed, to make it fit to receive spirit ual seed, whose fruit will in due time bo soen by the Great Husbandman.” “Aye, light is sown, and gladness. I never before noticed tho word as de noting forethought and care in the Qne who sows. And does the Great Hus bandman design for me a harvest ojf joy and happiness?• and shall I repine at the rough usages of the spring time ?” “If,” replied her friend, “we could but realize that all this is requisite for the soul’s good a s G the nee of the implements of husbandry fbr the field of the farmer, wo would not repine, but ‘count it all joy,’ whenever such trials befell us.” “Light is sown.” Following out the metaphor, and thinking also of that other passage which speaks of the “far more exceeding and e.ernal weight of glory,” which is the result of afflictions properly borne. I fell into a reverie. I seemed to catch a glimpse of heav enly mansions, and of gardens where the Lamb leudeth his redeemed ones to “fountains of living waters.” Augel voices seemed to whisper: “For every throb of pain patiently endured ; for every suppressed feeling of impatience or murmuring ; for every pulsation of gratitude and love to God —in short, for every resisted tempta tion, and every act which finds accep tance in God’s sight, we angels make a record in that Book of Remembrance which is kept for those who love him. These are as seeds sown for that great harvest, in which you are to reap your ‘eternal we’ght of glory ’ ’’ Oh I when those other books are opened and the dead are judged accord ing tjwhat is written therein,, let it not be said, that like “wood, hay, stub ble,” my works shall be burnt up, and I among those saved as by fire. Such “must suffer loss.” Who can tell what that loss will be which is felt throughout eternity ? An entrance into heaven, but not “an abundant en trance.” Angels may welcome, but they cannot say, your “work abideth” in that day when “the firo shall try PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE & 00., FOR THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. Macon, Friday, August 6, 1869. every man’s work, of what sort it is.” Jesus may receive me; but he cannot say, “ Well done, good and faithful ser vant.” Am I willing t j lessen my own eter nal joy ? Am I willing to lessen the joy of angels? Am I willing to lessen the joy of my Lord ? —Christian Banner. The Last Sensation. Since the Bishops’ correspondence, the great sensation in the Northern Methodist Church, is the National Camp-meeting.—Columns of their pa pers are filled with accounts of the great gathering. The leading secular 'newspapers dispatched reporters to the *icene, and their letters are flying all over the land It was designed to be a “big meet ing,” and it was a big meeting, in such a sense as to impress the Northern peo ple tremendously. The correspondent of the New York Herald gives us a pic ture of the scene; “The great National Camp-meeting of the M. E. Church, now in full blast at Round Lake, Saratoga county, N. Y., far and near is attracting general attention. Its audiences are immense, excelled in numbers only by those of the Boston Peace Jubilee; and its at tractions to the worshipper, the sum mer butterfly, philosoper, and the Bo hemian are infinitely more attractive than the late stupid and senseless ‘hub bub of the Hub.’ This Round Lake establishment is the perfection of the camp-meeting, with all the modern im provements. The grounds are forty acres; the encampment is laid out like a city, with its streets, avenues, squares and fountains. The association have tents to rent in any quantity, and very cheap; likewise cooking stoves, bed steads and bedding, chairs, tables, &c., there are also boarding tents, where strangers can be accommodated at from fifty to seventy-five cents per meal, or for a term not less than three days, at one dollar per day. They have accom modations for carriages and teems, a market, a potsoffiee, a telegraph and express, and a bookstore, and the only wonder is they haven’t a daily news paper.” There were 700 tonts, seats for 6,000 hearers, and 150 preachers who were furnished with a “single bed per night at 75 cents, or 50 cents if they staid through the meeting.” There was a tent capable of sheltering 3,000 persons. The arrangements for watering the crowd were ample—“a reservoir, hold ing one hundred hogsheads, built in masonry, about a half a mile from the grounds, supplying the water, which is chalybeate, through a two inch pipe, buried four foet under ground, and, by a happy arrangement of tank and pipe, is brought within the reach of all. Near the centre of the grounds is a ba sin, sixteen feet in diameter, with eight posts. Through these run pipes, each throwing jets of water back into the basin, while in the centre of the basin rests a fino fountain about fifteen feet high, throwing water in the form of spray. Fishes play in the large basin below. In another location a basin fifty-three feet in diameter supplies the horses. Besides these there are two other large reservoirs ” The old-fashioned camp-meeting horn was dispensed with of course, and a tine-toned bell, of two thousand pounds, swung in a tower over the stand, sum moned the worshippers to the services. Among the preachers present, the Rev. Mr, Inskip, of Eutaw Street Church, Baltimore, seemed to be a lea der, if not the leader. At one of the meetings he introduced something quite new in Methodist prayer-meetings. Rev. Dr. Butler had preached, and Mr. Inskip, at the close of the sermon, struck up the hymn, “There is a foun tain filled with blood.” As the singing progressed and reached the third stan za, he asked all “who felt they could endorse the sentiment to hold up their hands. The third verse was then Sung, with both hands uplifted, Dr. Inskip invoking the spirits of Wesley , Fletcher and all the redeemed in Heaven , to help them to accept the truth in all its length and breadth.” Is the invoca tion of saints practiced in the Methodist Church? We quote the above from one of their papers where it is given without dissent or rebuke. Thej’ had a grand love-feast or expe rience-meeting. Three or four hundred people spoke in the space of an hour. The speeches were all short and to the point. One bfQthev had eomc all the w r ay from London—not New London, hut old London in England—to attend the meeting. A minister was present from Paris. This American camp meeting reminded him of the gather ings for religious services during the Great Exhibition. “Happy” John Al len, of Maine, said, '‘l have been to J 99 camp-meetings, and if God spares me wifi go, to as many more.” lie had moved out of grumbling alley, and now lived in thanksgiving street. Qf course as this was a National meeting, the States must be represent ed. The roll of States was called, and someone or more spoke for each State, The great day of the meeting was Sunday. Yast multitudes thronged the grounds, The preacher at 11 o’clock was Bishop Simpson, He is said to ha.ye preached a powerful sermon. Af ter the seymoh speakers of both sexes appeared all over tho grounds. Tho correspondent of the Tribuno thus describes this part of the services: “The sermon which pleased me best was delivered from an improvised stand, in Fountain Square, by a lady from Pawtucket, Rhode Island. She told her simple story of trial and strug gle with so much unaffected earnest ness, with such womanly grace and feeling, and in such a sweet, sympa thetic voice, that very few who listen ed to her could refrain from evincing emotion. A lady from Illinois also spoke with great effect from the head of a water hogshead “In my rambles around the camp I encountered a middle-aged lady w’ho had just button-holed a wild looking young blood from Troy. How she scorched that poor young man with her burning invectives against pride, and tobacco, and Sabbath breaking. A lit tle beyond this earnest speaker was gathered a knot of folks intently lis tening to the sharp words of another female preacher. She was mounted upon a wagon, and her untidy cap flut tered and flapped in the breeze like the tattered banner of some veteran regi ment returning from the war in a storm. I am sorry that I missed the best part of this lady’s discourse. There’s many a woman fair as she whose nouns and verbs do more agree, but I doubt much whether there is a score in the whole land who can give more earnest expres sion to their thoughts than this same brave old disciple. “Shame on you,” said she; “shame on you young woman with that brazen .headgear and that ungodly hump on your back! Where’s the modesty your mother teached you !to kerry through life with you ? [Here a very pretty girl vanished into the wood.] There’s a full-grown man chawing a nasty, filthy wood that the pigs wouldn’t tetch. Next to godli ness, young man, is cleanliness Es I didn’t love the human race as I do, bless God, I’d like to git down from this waggin and sicken your tobacker ebaw ers with your nasty mouthful.” And so on, one by one, the old lady took up the ten commandments and handled the infractors thereof with rough hands. She was the plainest taker I ever had the pleasure of hearing—for to me it was a real pleasure to listen to the spontaneous outburst of an hon est woman’s feelings. This meeting was designed to pro mote the doctrine of holiness as it is now taught by many in the Northern Church. What has been the I’csult of the meeting in this respect we have not learned. We won’t join the M. E. Church yet. It is too great. —Richmond jphristian Advocate. The Sure Word. Our lot is fallen in times when, on the one hand, the very foundations of the faith are shaken by those who ought to bo its chief defenders; aud, on the other, a superstructure of wood, hay and stubble is raised upon that foundation, almost equally nerilous to the safety of those who trust them selves upon it. And men are asking where is there any resting-place amidst this deluge of unbelief and false doc trine with which the whole earth is overspread ? But why such a question ? Is not the ark of God’s World floating high above it all, offering a secure, a permanent resting-place to every weary and heavy-laden soul that seeks a re fuge in it ? Is not the ark of God’s testimony spread open bofore you? Keep close to God’s own Word. Let no man, call himself what he will, move you from the foundation. And amidst ail varied interpretations of that Word, kyep to that which a prayerful, earnest and diligent persual of it carries home to your conscience. When you stand before the bar of God hereafter, no de pendence upon human teaching will he your vindication for not having acted upon God’s Word as He gave it to you. lie who allows any man to come be tween him and God’s message to him, must tako the consequence of prefer ring man’s word to God’s. When our martyred Reformers stood, a mere handful against an opposing host, this was the rock on which they fixed their footing—God’s Word, and God’s Spirit as its alone infallible inter preter. And God’s grace supported them in their fiery trial, and honored them, even here, with a victory preg nant in blessings to their country— that country so fervently prayed for by one of them, and whose words, not withstanding all that is happening around us, let us hope, may have flowed from prophetic lips—“Bo of good cheer, Master Ridley, and play the man; wo slricl! this day light such a candle in England, by God’s grace, as shall never be put out.” —Dean Goode. Power of a Book. Many years ago a tract colporteur of tho American Tract Society in Texas, with evangelical literature in his saddle bags, offered to make a present of a volume to a wagoner. ‘My friend,” said the wagoner, “I will be plain with you—l never read any thing of that kind.” “Perhaps your wife would like to read the book.” “Well, my wife is a religiously inclined woman, and I will accept this book and present it to her.” Several years afterward, tho donor, in the busy streets of a commercial town in Texas, looking out for wagons by which to send books into the interi or, was asked by a good-looking man,. “Do you recollect me ?” “I do not,” “Are you the gentleman who some years ago gave me-a religious book?” The reply was, “Yes.” “Well,” said the wagoner, bursting into a flood of tears, “1 am that man, and I have been wanting to see you ever since. I was then a ringleader in wickedness, a terror to my neighbor hood. lam now a preacher. Tho book yon so kindly gave me for my wife proved the means of my conversion. You certainly never could have given a book to any one under more unfavor able circumstances. I told you candid ly 1 never read religious hooks. You suggested that my wife might read it; and I took it on her account. Stopping to eat, and gvaae my oxen on the road, I concluded I would look over the book, and beeame somewhat interested. Ar riving at home, Providence prostrated mo on a bed of sickness. I had re course to the hook intended for my wife, read it, was led through its teach ings to the foot of the cross, and ona hled to repose ray faith in the bleeding Victim, and to accept, as I humbly trust, of salvation through tho merits of His atoning blood ; and here I am, a sir her savod through grace, and a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, all, under God, owing to the readjng of a book you kindly presented me, with a hope that it might benefit to my wife.” Such was his history. He was fur nished with more evangelical pulflica tions, and again sent forth “armed and equipped,” to apply to others the same wonderful cure for sin-sick souls. Who can reckon up the value ot a good book ? ■ The Great Wheel- Nicodcmus was a converted. Indian. His language was highly figurative. Once, when looking at tho mill, he said to the missionary ; “Brother, I discov er something that rejoices my heart. I have seen the great wheel, and many little ones; every one was in motion, and seemed all alive, suddenly all stop ped, and the mill was as dead. Just so it is with my heart —it is as dead as the wheel; hut as soon as Jesus’ blood flows upon it, it gets life, and sots every thing in motion, and the whole man heir* 0 ’ governed by it, it becomes evi denYthat there is life throughout. But ■when th(j.heart is removed from tho crucified Jesus, it dies gradually, and at length all life ceases.” . When the doctrines of the Holy Spir it became more dear to his mind, he compared his body to a canoe, and his heart to the rudder; adding “that tho Holy Spirit was the master, sitting at the rudder and directing the vessel.”— Eclectic Treasury. If those who sneer at practical r®U; gion would only seek it for themselves and make a fair trial of it, their lips would be sealed to scoffers aud. only opened in grateful praise. I never heard a sincere Christian who pronoun ced Christianity an imposturo or a fai lure. Have you? He who is angry with his just re prover, kindlea tho lire of the just aven ger. Tbe Change in Madagascar. At tho annual meeting of the Lon don Missionary Society in May, tho fol lowing account of the progress of the Gospel in the island of Madagascar was given in the report : In the island of Madagascar the reli gious progress made during the past year finds no parallel among any peo ple in modern days. On the day of the coronation of the present queen, three hundred thousand people gathered to meet their sovereign. Preceeded by a hundred ladies, and by her Ministers and Council, the queen was borne to the assembly in simple state. The old scarlet banners which were the era blams of the Idol’s presence, were wanting in the procession. Around the canopy that shaded her throne were written the words of tho angels which welcomed tho Rodoemer into the world. In front and to her right stood the table which bore her crown. On another tablo to the left was the Biblo presented to her predecessor by the British and Foreign Bible Society. Her royal speech contained many ele vated sentiments; but is specially an nounced to all her people liberty of conscience in regard to Christianity, of the fullest kind. “This is my word to you, O ye under heaven, in regard to the praying; it is not enforced, it is not hindered; for God made you.” Thirty years ago, in March, 1836, on a Sunday morning, the little prison of the capital at Ambatonakanga was opened, aud a young woman led forth to be put to death. She was just thir ty, fair to look upon, and of gentle manners; and her face was lit with that bright radiance which springs from the conviction that God and heav en are very near. She walked forth with firm step ; she was surrounded hy the guards ; and, though going to die, she began to sing in a joyous tone the hymns that she had loved. Followed by a crowd, of which some hooted and somo were lost in wonder, sho passed through the city towards tho dreary ditch at the south end of the long ridge on which the capital is built. The scene before her and on either side was one of unusual beauty. East, west, and south, the broad green plan of Imerina, stretched to the distant horizon, pre senting to tho eye bright gleams of lakes and water-courses, of fertile fields and wooded hills, amongst which nestled the rich vilages, and the flocks and herds were feeding in peace. She saw it not. She saw not the smiling land, tho taunting crowd, the cruel exe cutor. Sho saw only the face of her Lord. Descending tho hill, she knelt to pray; and, so praying, she was speared. No common honor descended upon her that day; she was the first martyr of Christ’s Church in tho island of Madagascar. Thirty-two years have passed away, again the crowds gather at the “White Village,” and another woman comes down to pray, tho object of attraction to all eyes. This is tiie queen of Mad agascar. On the white ridge which overhangs the ditch where Rasalama died, stands a handsome church, with its lofty spire, which has been erected to her memory, and bear her name upon its wall. Tho church is crowded with Christian worshippers, and vast numbers are compelled to remain out side The Queen not a persecutor, hut a friend, comes to join her people in dedicating the church to Christian wor ship ; and, in special sympathy with the occasion, offers her Bible for pulpit use. The Prime Minister, whoso pre decessor has assigned Christians to death, now urges his countrymen, in stirring words, to believo in Christ, be cause lie is the Saviour of the world. The report of the Mission speaks of 20,000 hearers added to tho congrega tions during last, year; and returns the converts at 37 000 persons, including 7,000 members. The missionaries write thus to the directors:—“The most important mat ter I have to ommunicate this month is that on Sunday, February 21st, the Queeu aud Prime Minister were bap tized by Andriambelo. A large num ber of the leading officers were present, and the fact has been made as public as possible. The prime Minister states that, during tho days of darkness, ho received a copy of tho Scriptures from one of the last of the martyrs —Raza- finarina—and that ho used to keep it hid within the courtyard, in a part of the enclosier where tho Queen kept her fighting bulls. Tho ways of God are wonderful, and wo possibly may at the present time be reaping fruit from seed then sown in toars. —JY. Y. Observer. The Shield of Faith. When Epaminondas had received his death wound, on the battle-field, lie asked, with his fast failing oreath, if the enemy had taken his buckler. Oil being told that it was safe, that the enemy had not so much as laid a hand upon it, he laid him down again peacefully to his soldier’s death. So,-when the soldier of the red cross comes to his dying hour, his failing hand reaches out for his trusty shiold of faith, which has borne him safely through so many conflicts. If it is safe, all is well. lie can rest his head upon it, as upon a downy pillow, and breathe his life away in the joyous hope of a glorious resurrection. “Now,” Haiti the bishops, to John Huss, as the fagots wore piled about him, “we commend thy soul to the devil.” “But I,” said Huss, lifting up his eyes to heaven, “do commit my spirit into thy hands, O, Lord Jesus Christ; to thee I commend my spirit, which thou hast redeemed.” He wore a shield which no firo of the persecutor could destroy. A young minister of great promise was called, at twenty-four, to lay his armor down, and take the cross his Sav iour held to him. “None can know,” he said, in bis last moments, “none can conceive, tho hap piness I possess, but the sincere disci ple of Josus. Redeemer of mankind, give me strength to boar ovon this joy!”— S. S. Times. Living to Christ. —Brethren, let us aim, as St. Paul did, to live to Christ. How bright the halo*which surrounds tho memory of those who have done so I Trace them, in thought, through out past ages: tho early Christians, amid constant persecution from Jew and Gentile; the saints of the middle ages —those lights shining in darkness, of whom the world was not worthy; the great reformers, who were not afraid to lift up their testimony against prevailing errors and corruptions, and boldly to come forth from tho great apostacy ; the Christian philanthropist of later times—men whose love to Christ has constrained them to devote themselves to the service in various ways; who have been the means of reviving the work of true religion at home, and who have gone forth to pro claim tho gospel abroad, and sought to undo tho heavy burdens which still ex isted in lands enjoying Christian light and liberty. How dear to us is the memory of men like these! how sacred are their names! how bright tho ex ample which they have left us ! And why? They lived to Christ; they loved and served him, and counted all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of liis name.— Nivens. As White as Snow—lsaiah i. 18. That is a beautiful thought of the la mented Dr. James Hamilton : Suppose that every one were to mark in golden letters tho text which has been the means of saving his soul. The Apostle Paul would mark tho words, “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou mo?” for it was these words, spoken by Jesus from the dazzling light, that made him anew creature. In the Bible of the Mace donian jailor tho letters would be found at Acts xvi. 31: “Believe on the Lord .Torus Christ, and thou shaft be savedfor embracing this simple otter he rejoiced, believing in God with all his house. Martin Luther would print tho text, “The just shall live by faith," in gold : for that text, spoken Jjy the gentle lips of the vicar-general, guided him to peace ; and the young monk of Erfurth, reduced by lasts, and tears and struggles, to tho verge of the grave, found rest in tho wound of Jesus. In the Bible of Bunyan, tjio mark would he found at “Yet there is room.” It was through the lattice of these words that he first saw tho cross, and ho thought God had put them into the Bible to meet his special case. And the ironside soldier would indicato Eccl. xi. 9 ; for it was there tho bullet stopped, which, but for the interposing Bible, would have pierced his bosom; and when tho battle was over ho read, “Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in tho ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes; but know thou that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.” But who can tell how many would enshrine in gold a text which has comforted millions, and which is destined to comfort mil lions more; or what words do we so instinctively turn to, in directing anx ious souls to Christ, as these: “Como now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord ; though your sius be as scar let, they shall be as white as snow, though they he red liko crimson, they shall he as wool."— Monitor. Censoriousness. There is an uncommon beauty, force and propriety in that caution which our Saviour gives us: ‘ And why be holdcst thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye ; or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Lot me pull out tho mote out of thine eye, and behold a beam in thinOownoyo? Thou hypocrite! first cast the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out tho mote out of thy brother’s eye ” In which words these four things are plainly intimated: First, that some are much more quick-sight ed to discern tho faults and blemishes of others than their own; can spy a mote in another’s eye soonor than a beam in their own. Second, that they are often the most forward to correct and cure the foibles of others, who are most unqualified for that office. Th# beam in their own eyes makes them altogether unfit to pull out the mote from their brother’s. A man half blind himself, should never set up for an ocu list. Third, they who are inclined to deal in censure, should always begin at home. Fourth, great censoriousness is great hypocrisy. This common failing of human na ture the heathen were very sensible of, and imagined in the following manner: Every jnan (say they) carries a wallet, or two bags, with him ; the one hang ing before him, and the other behind him; into that before, he puts the faults of others ; into that behind, his own ; by which means he never sees his own failings, while he has those of others always before his eyes. — John Mason. Devoutness —One condition of de voutness is active and continual occu pation in the Lord’s service. What exercise does for the body, usefulness does for the soul, in quickening the circulation through the entire system, and in giving a healthy play to tho or gans and faculties of our being. Such occupation may be confined to the lour walls of a house. It is not essentia! to it that it should ho prominent, or va ried, or arduous, or indeed of any spec ial sort or kind whatever. All that is necessary is, that each Christian per son should feel himself a laborer in tho Lord’s vineyard, and should bo doing with humility and cheerfulness what the Lord gives him to do, whatever and wherever it may be. This alone (unless sickness or other cause of ina bility prevent it) can keep the heart awake, tho will obedient, tho mind ready, the conscience pure. If it in volve self-denial, so much tho better. Nay, the chances are that if there is no self-denial about it, we are pleasing ourselves, instead ot pleasing Christ Some people are so constituted that they would find it harder to overcome natural diffidence in visiting tho sick, or oven in teaching a class of children, than to eat dry. bread for a year. But to master self is the meaning of sanc tification ; and the sure and certain re ward of following our Saviour wherev er he leads us is f that >vo are thereby strengthened for the daily conflict with sloth and selfishness in our own hearts, and that in ministering to others wo are benefiting oitrselves.— Rev. A. W. Thorold. A hide in Christ. —There is safety nowhere else. With hini are the words of eternal life, and life itself. In him dwells all fulness of grace. He is the light of his people and the world. In him may our lives bo hid, and under the shadow of his wing may we abide always. Tho human heart is restless, and ill at ease. Like tho dove let loose from the ark, it finds no placo until it returns to its home. in the bosom of a compassionate Saviour; may it rest and be blessed. There tho storms of the world do not reach: There is no sound of strife, no ruuo clamors, no meeting of men in deadly conflict. There is joy unspeakable, and full of glory. There is heaven. Rest here, O my soul, for it is a place of broad streams and green pastures. Sorrow is the furnace that nelts sel fish hearts together in love. Most misfortunes may be turned into blessings by waiting the tide ot attairs. E. H. MYERS, D. D., EDITOR. Whole Number 1763 A Parable. A nobleman had a Dove, a Raven and an Eagle, belonging to bw palace! Thero was no sociability or fellowship prevailing among them Tho Dove fed on its own food, and bid himself in the clefts of the rocks, or in the dove-house nearAjhe palace. The Raven fed upon dead wlrcasses, and sometimes picked out tho eyes of little innocent lambs, if she could pounce upon them in a chance place ; she also nestled in the top of trees. Tho Eagle was a royal bird, flying very high, but yet of a rapacious character. Sometimes ho would not mind eating some half a dozen of tho Doves for his breakfast. He thought himself the king of birds because ho flew higher than the}" all. The Dove greatly dreaded his strong beak, his wrathful eyes and his sharp grapling claws. When the gentleman threw wheat for tho Dovo on tho pavement, the Raven would have a piece of an oaf' or the foot of a lamb in its beak ; and. the Eagle was for taking up some lit tle child from the cradle to his nest. Tho Dove is the pious diligent Chris tian ; tho Raven is tho dissolute and difficult to be managed ; and the proud, selfish professor is the Eagle. These' three characters are too frequently to he found together, and there is no de nomination, in church or chapel, with out these three birds if there arc any biidi at all thero. It is impos sible lor three birds, so different in their dispositions, ever to bo happy P} r together. Brethren, pray for tho unity of tho Spirit in the bond of peace. —Christmas Evans. Tho Master's Face. A painter onco. on finishing a magni ficent picture, called his artist friends around him to examine it and express their judgment as to its merits or de fects. Tho ono in whose taste the au thor most confided came last to view the work. “Tell mo truly, brother,” said the painter, “what do you think is tho best point in my picture ?” “O brothor! it is all beautiful; but that chancel! That is a perfect master piece—a gem!" With a sorrowful heart tho artist took his brush and dashed it over the toil of many a weary day, and turning to his friends, said: “O brothers! if there is anything in my piece more beautiful than tho Master's face, that I have sought to put there, let it be gone I”— Eclectic Treasury. Entire Devotion.— Unless I make religion my great and engrossing con cern, I shall he a stranger to all solid peace and enjoyment. I have at t mes caught a glimpse of tho comfort which it yields the spirit, when 1 merge my will into God’s will—when I resolve to have no will of my own separate from God. I feel quite assured that this en tire renunciation of self, and entire de votion to God's service, would give a simplicity and grandeur to my exis tence—would throw an unclouded sun shine over all my * above the cares and provocations of this life—would enhance even my sensible gratifications and superadd those gratifications of a higher order which constitute the main and essen tial blessedness of heaven. Omy God, may it be thus with me! Call me out of nature’s darkness, into their own marvellous light. Give me to aspire after the graces, and hold forth to my acquaintances, and, above all, to my children, the example of all righ teousness. Conform me to the gospel economy under which I sit —that as Christ died for sin, I may die to it— that as he rose again, I may rise to newness of. life, and feel it my meat and drink to do thy will — Dr. Chalmers. “Is Your Life Insured ?—Such was tho question we heard in passing a group of men not long ago.—lt was a propor and important inquiry. But to our mind it was suggestive of the most solemn truth in the universe of God. House, furniture, and mortal existence are insured by men, so far as a financial value can bo estimated and secured. But is thero not of right, in every hu man form, a soul-life to be insured for eternity. That work is committed to Christ, who - bought the right to per form it with his own blood. Tho flames may burst at any time from the mate rial habitation ; death may at any mo ment strike down the “tabernacle of flesh but after these, at length, a burning world I Then whose endless life shall bo secure in Jesus ? O fellow, man, is your soul-life insured f Wesley’s Philosophy. —“At it and always at it.” Wesley’s philosophy lor the Christian was good and his life was a noblo exhortation of its excellence. Put it on the brain and in the heart of every professor and the church would be a mighty power for good—“the desert would rejoice and blossom as the rose.-’ Here is a large-field for thought, and the lukewarm, idle professor, who docs nothing for the Lord, never has asked and never will: “Why does not every Christian adopt this motto ?” Ho always excepts himself, but com plains of others for their neglect and thinks tins is pious and praiseworthy. Thus, dm not Wesley. Secret Prayer. —Reader, do you complain of your languid spirit, your drooping faith, your fitful affections, your lukewarm love? May you not trace much of what you deplore to an unfrequent chamber? The treasures are locked up from you, bocauso you have suffered the key to rust; the hands hang down, because they have ceased to bo uplifted in prayer. Without pray er, it is the pilgrim without a staff; the seaman without a compass; the soldier going unarmed and unharness ed to battle! — Macduff. Individual Christians, why these bitter estrangements, these censorious words, these harsh judgments,this want of kind consideration of the feelings and failings of thoge who may differ from you ? Why are your friendships so of ten like the summer brook, soon dried ? You hope, oro long, to meet in glory. Doubtless, when you enter on that “Sabbath of love,” many a greeting will be this, “Alas I my brother, that on earth I did not love thee more !” Macduff. ' Argue not with a man whom you know to be of an obstinate temper, for when he is once contradicted, his mind is barred up against all light and infor mation. Arguments though never so well grounded, do but provoke him and make him even afraid to be convinced of the truth. Two things well considered, would prevent many quarrels; first to have it well ascertained whether we are dis puting about terms rather than things; and, secondly, to examine whether that on which we differ, is worth contend ing about,