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. ftnntlecM ft'hmiian AtUotajc, THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUM. YOL. XXXIII. NO. 10. (Srigtnal jjoefrn. Not Dead. MATTHEW XXII. 32. Does he live whom we call dead ? Does he live for me ? Though laid in the earth’s cold bed, The glance of his beaming eyes, Shall I once more see, With a sweet and glad surprise ’ Whom they buried in the grave, Many years ago, Our own beautiful and brave, Again,'shall we hear his voice? Oh! if this be so, Then, onr hearts, rejoice ! rejoice ! God, so merciful and kind, Kound the human heart. Such tendrils had never twined, Twiued even witli its very core. Then, to tear apart, Forever and evermore. No! no! all these broken ties He’ll again unite, Where tears are wiped from the eye3, Where sighing and sorrow' erase, In the land of light, God’s Heaven of joy and peace. Where pain and parting aro o’er, There, our lov’d we’ll meet— Meet on Eternity’s shore— And, while its cycles shall roll, Hold communion sweet, Heart with heart, and soul with sonl. Yes! they live, whom we call dead, Even live and love, Where soul with soul shall be wed, Where spirit and spirit unite, This, we’ll fully prove, When our faith is turn’d to sight. W’e shall know them for the same, And by them shad be known ; We shall call them by their name, Ev’n, that name so sweet and dear— Sweet as music’s tone — That we used to call them here. Yes! together we shall walk, Hand in baud, once more, And, together, sit and talk, Hour by hour, and day by day, As in days of yore, Ere God call’d them hence away. Yes! for all, unto Him, live, The ever living God, And our dead again He’ll give To our longing hearts and eyes; Though buried ’neath the sod, Unto life aud love they’ll rise, Forever, ever more, in the skies. M. M. Columbia, S. I'ehruury 21 .si, 1870. Tlie Last Day. The last great day, the day of days, is come, The latest hour of time has struck—lts final doom. I hear the bell, the great alarm bell, Tolling the knell of time—earth’s funeral knell. Time was. Eternity is ushered iu. The cycles of Eternity begiu. The earth flames from the centre to the pole ; The Bea is boiling: W'aves like lava roll, Lit up with supernatural, splendid glow. I see a floating cloud, approuching slow, And on that cloud there is a great white throne Arched by a rainbow. On the cloud sits One, Like to the Sou of Man. Him I behold— His face like sunbeams flashed from burnisjied gold; While just before Him lie the books—the book Os life—the book of death. Again I look, The hook of dread remembrances. And while, This brigtit appearance X behold, I smile With joy that He is come to be admired Os all His saints. He comes, the loug desired, The loug expected. But there stands a crowd, Os miserable wretches, wailing loud, Grouching in horror themselves to conceal, Tremblingly, as biast on blast and peal on peal, Os the last trumpet sounds. Vet still they look. And still their eyes the dread sight must brook, Os Him they pierced. The friglitoued crowd uow fly To seek tlie rock 9 anil hills, while loud they cry, “Hocks, full on us, uud hide us from the face Os Jesus. Hide us from the dreadful blaze, Os His fleree wrath.” But yet they cauuot hide From tlie face of Jesus Christ, the man who died. And now is coma to judgment. They must see llis face, in terror mute. In vain they lice. They cannot Sit at Jesus’s right hand, Clothed in white robes; nor can they join tlie grand, Triumphal march of Jesus in the clouds: Nor share His triumph, those poor wretched crowds. They shall behold it, hut shall not be there. Methinks I see it now; the Saviour dear, Rides in his chariot on the clouds to heaven ; Hark, how His mighty coursers, swiftly driven, Make the sky rattle up heaven’s mighty hills. While bound in fetters, at his chariot wheel, Captive he drags the devil, death, and hell. I see the saints, a happy, joyous train, In glad procession throng the etherial plain. Hark, how they clap their hands, and how they sing, Triumphaut anthems to the Saviour King. Hark, how they shout:—“Thou hast ascended high, And captive Thou hast led captivity.” And hark again, the solemn lay they cliaut, “Hallelujah! the Lord God Omnipotent, Doth ever reign.” With crowns upon their brow, With rapturous faces—garments white as snow, Hark! how their songs swell up to highest heaven, With the loud sound, arc, heaven’s high, arches riven. While the Eternal answers from His throne, "I will rejoice; joy over these alone, With singing will I over them rejoice, For these have I uuto me betrothed, In everlasting loving kindnesses.” W lI.IIF.IMINA. m Contributions. Clirist Stilling the Wind. 4 * And lie went up unto them in the ship, ami tho winds ceased.” Mark vi. 51. The disciples had been toiling long and hard, but had made little headway. The difficulty was not in the construction of the ship. It had rode the waves before, and did well afterwards. There was no want of skill with the oarsmen ; some well-trained and well-tried arms were aboard. Nor were they careless or idle amid the danger ; for the Master himself saw them “toiling in rowing.” They did all of man’s work at the time, yet without avail. There was an ele ment against them which no human power could overcome. The furies of the moun tains were combined, and were breathing down their bitter blast upon the devoted ship. There was the germ of “the true vine,” there the little Church of Christ. The sal vation of the world is at the mercy of the waves. Let the little ship be destroyed, and the powers of darkness will ever have dominion. The strength of the oarsman’s arm grows weak, and the nerve of his heart fails. The demons are triumphant; victory seems in hand. Is the work of God imper fect and to be destroyed ? No, never. The ever watchful eye of the Son of God looks on; and looking down through coming ages, He only wants that a great work may be wrought, a glorious lesson taught the sons of men. Man’s insufficiency is being dem onstrated. When completed, the Master leaves his midnight devotions and goes to establish forever the all-sufficiency of the presence and power of the Saviour of the world. His divine step is felt on the waters, and the rolling waves sink down. The majesty of his -presence is in the ship and the winds cease. It was not necessary that he should take the helm and oar, and by supernatural strength drive the vessel through the mad billows. Nor was it neces sary that he take wings and go intt> the hills and there chain the furious winds. He comes into the ship, and all is well : his presence alone is the “peace, be still,” that calms other waves, as well as Genncsaret’s. How significant ! The God of this world is constantly breathing out his billowing, blasting breath upon the sea of life, causing waves of trouble to rise, and the little barks of men to be tossed about. Many of these barks go down. Others sport awhile in the oblivious eddies of life, to meet the same fate, others, however, glide in smooth seas or ride the rugged waves in safety. The in mates call and respond joyfully to each other. They hold sweet communion, and ever follow the glorious flag-ship, whose bow is always directed to the ports, prosperi ty, happiness, life eternal. Why is this? Christ aboard. Wisdom and grace in the heart. Oh ! what a change then comes over the face of tlie great deep of man’s life, when tiie old man, Adam is put off, and new man, Christ Jesus, put on. All oppos ing winds cease. The dark rolling waters grow bright and smooth, leaving only the little wavelets, to increase life’s beauty by catching and reflecting the glorious rays of gospel sunlight. Then man lives to some purpose, and is constantly advancing to ward the kingdom of God. Until then, he must toil in vain. He may have all the wis dom and skill of the world combined; they will be impotent before the great adver sities of life. What folly for man to at tempt the voyage of life alone ! And what folly for him to stand in the gorges of infi delity and worldly-mindedness, and blow his little anathemas against the religion and Church of God! Christ will laugh at his calamity, and, iu the judgment one “ depart ” will banish a whole world of such characters. Young man, bo not deceived; if you would be prosperous, and useful aud happy in life, as well as saved in the end, you must have Christ to dwell with you. Ask him to fit up the temple of your heart, and there remain forever. And ye old man, it may now be too late for you to make a voyage through life. You aro perhaps stranded upon the shore, whence you started more than fifty years ago. But you liavo yet the dark Jordan of death to cross. You are in danger of being sub merged and carried into the burning, bot tomless pit beneath its surging waters. You may, however, pass safely over and be landed by the tree of life in the city of God. But Christ, tlie captain of your salvation, must be in your heart. Though yon have ignored him so long, yet he is willing to help you in this last extremity. Call upon him ; “come without delay,” wait not a mo ment. You may be in the rugged stream ere you know it. And ye men of God, ye whose it is to drive and direct the old ship of Zion, though your vessel was divinely constructed and her timber the eternal decrees of God, himself ; though she has been successful in “landing many thousands and may land as many more,” yet the Savour ever present must be her guide, her life. Without him she “can do nothing.” What a work there is for the Church to do. Look out upon the great deep of life. Heaven smiles ; all is calm. See the thous ands of little barks, sporting on the waters, the great majority choosing the delusive bub bles of sin. The great waves of trouble and death will soon be upon them, You call to them : you warn them of their danger, and bid them come into the Church for safety. They hear not your voice. They laugh at your alarm.- They do not see that you are blessed with tlie Master’s presence ; they do not recognize the tonos of him, who spoke as “man never spoke.” Oh trifle not with them longer ! Show forth to the world that Christ is in your hearts, in your lives, in your preaching, in your church, every- - where. Let them hear through you, tlie cheering strains of his voice, “come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden.” But hope grows weary, and the heart sick, when we turn the eye upon our old ship of State. She was a thing of beauty, nobly formed, and has had many wise captains aud skillful men to guide and propel her. She has been far advanced toward the port of Christian civilization. But the winds have driven her back, and we find her to-day, only a few furlongs off the coast of barbarism, divested of her glory, lying across a great political billow, shivering from stem to stem as if to go to pieoos in a moment. Why ? No Saviour aboard. He has prayed in the mountain and walked continually upon the waters of our nation, ready to stay the winds and give safety to the ship at any moment. But He has been permitted to “pass by.” There was none to “cry out,” and ask his help. Oh, ye rulers, it is time that you all “see him” aud be "troubled." It is time, ere you “come out of the ship,” that you “straightway know him,” and that you run throughout the “whole region round about,” and carry to him, on beds of peace aud love, tlie crip pled and diseased laws of our land. Oh ! that we could hear his voice talking with us to-day, and bidding us to “be of good cheer; it is I, be not afraid.” Como, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Doctrine anfo (L^pcrimce. From the English Independent. Clirist a Sacrifice for Siu. In your brief comments on the sermon by Dr. Temple after his enthrone ment as Bishop of Exeter you represent him as stating that ‘ ‘the highest revelation of God to man” is the life of our Lord Jesus Clirist, “in the contemplation of which” (you say) “he apparently believes the cure for sin is to be found.” This, I apprehend, whether actually held by Dr. Temple or not, is one of the prevailing errors of the age. Its direct contradiction to the plain state ments of the New Testament appear to me patent and obvious, for nothing is more clearly taught by our Lord aud His Apostles than that the spiritual life in man is gene rated and nurtured by believing contempla tion, not of the life and example of Christ, but of His peculiar and vicarious sufferings and death in immediate connection with His resurrection. The subject being one of paramount importance, you will perhaps permit me to refer to a few out of numerous passages in proof of this. We have lirst the express testimony of our Lord’s forerunner, whose office it was to in troduce Him, and who announced Him un der this designation, “The Lamb of God,” not to be contemplated as an example of meekness and gentleness, of quiet submis sion to injuries, and patient endurance of suffering, but as the great sacrifioial victim “which taketb away the sins of the world,” John i. 29,30. Paul, in reference to the Jewish feast of unleavened bread says : “Even Christ, our passover” (paschal lamb) “is sacrificed for us.” 1 Cor. v. 7. Our Lord Himself tells us that He came “to give His life a ransom” (or price of re demption) “for many,” Matt. xx. 28; and Peter teaches the same truth, 1 Ep. i. 18, “Ye arc redeemed with the precious blood of Christ,” as of an immaculate, sacrificial lamb. In His conversation with Nicodemns our Lord tells him that God had sent His only begotten Son into the world that the world through Him might be saved, and that in order to the accomplishment of this great purpose it was necessary that He should be “lifted up,” as Moses lifted up the serpent of brass in the wilderness for the instanta neous cure of the serpent-bitten Israelites, pointing most clearly to His death upon the cross. (Compare John viii. 28, xii. 32, 33.) “That whosoever believeth in Him” (as so- lifted up) “should not perish, hut have everlasting life.” John iii. 'l6. In His discourse with the Jews recorded in the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel we have a very remarkable declaration concen ing Himself, informing them what He was about to do, in order that men might “have life,” and what God required of them in or der that they might obtain it. “I am the living” (or life-giving) “bread which came down from heaven; if any man eat of this bread, he shall live forever, and the bread which I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world. Verily, veri ly, I say unto you, unless ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His blood, ye have no life in you. Whoso eateth My flesh aud drinketh My blood hath everlast ing life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For My flesh is truly food and My blood is truly drink,” vers. 50—55. Can there he any reasonable doubt that by these strong and figurative terms, “eating My flesh and drinking My blood,” our Lord meant the believing reception of the habit ual contemplation of the truth relating to the offspring of His body on the cross as the means of obtaining and preserving spiritual life, and of being nourished up to everlasting life ? This appears to be what Paul meant by his living faith in “the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me.” Gal. ii. 20. Our Lord describes His death as the means of procuring forgiveness of sins. At His last celebration of the paschal supper, speaking of the wine contained in the eup, He says, “This represents My blood of the new covenant, which is” (about to be) “poured out for many in order to tlio for giveness of sins,” Matt. xxvi. 28; and Paul in two of his epistles gives expression to the same truth—“ln whom we have redemption through His blood—the forgiveness of sins.” Eph. i. 7, Col. i. 14. The most careless reader of tlie apostoli cal epistles oan scarcely fail to observe how continually the writers refer to the death ol' Christ, or to His blood poured out on the cross as the medium through which all spirit ual blessings flow to men, tho foundation on which the whole weight and stress of our salvation is laid, and the sole ground of hope towards God of acceptance with Him, and of everlasting life and blessedness in His love and favor. Paul had been made a practical .father to many of the Corinthians, by what means he himself tells us, “I have bogottun you through the Gospel,” 2 Cor. iv. 15 ; the Gospel which he had preached to them, and which they had believed, by which also he tells them “they are saved if they keep it in memory” (or hold it fast.) What that Gos pel was he had most explicitly informed them at the beginning of his first epistle, the main topic, the comprehensive sum and substance, being “Christ crucified.” i. 17, 18, ii. 2, xv. I—4. The Gospel is “the word of reconcilia tion.” Men are reconciled to God by the death of His Son —by belief of the love which God manifested to our fallen race iu giving His own Son to die in their stead. Rom. v. 8, lrt, 2 Cor. v. 18—21. “Know ye not,” said Paul to the Ro mans (vi. 3,) “that so many of us as were baptized unto Christ were baptized unto” (a belief of) “His death?” lam seriously apprehensive although we are assured that old truths are only putting on new shapes, public preachers are but adopting a less technical theology, while nothing that deserves to be called funda mental is endangered at all, that neverthe less the substance of the evangelical doctrine is in groat danger of being gradually under mined, and the genuine Gospel so diluted as to be deprived of its saving power as the instrument employed by tho Holy Spirit, when understood and believed, to cleanse the conscience from guilt and purify tho heart from pollution. The lamentable pre vailing tendency to treat doctrinal truth un der the name of “dogma” as matter of very inferior and secondary importance, if not of absolute indifference, will, I greatly fear, unless checked and counteracted, be pro ductive of results most injurious and even disastrous to tho spiritual welfare of the Church. It will greatly confirm the accuracy of the view which I am compelled to take of this new version of the Gospel if I quote a few passages from the leading article, in the number published on the Bth inst., of a weekly newspaper called The Inquirer, one of the recognized organs of English Unita rians, which will show how they regard this change iu the statement of “the way of sal vation,” and will serve also to indicate whith er it tends and whereunto it may grow. “The life of Christ forms the grand central point of Christianity, and in the reverent study and ear nest practical imitation of that Divine image, Christians of all parties may surely feel that they have a common bond of union and an object of religious faith to which our speculative differences respecting the theological influences of His suf ferings and death are comparatively subordinate. The great error of Christendom for long centuries has been that men’s thoughts have been directed almost exclusively to the sufferings and death of Christ, and not to His Holy life and character. Theologians here even have perplexed themselves and their tollowers with subtle questions respect ing the influence of our Lord’s sufferings and death upon the mind and purposes of God, instead of devoutly studying that sublime martyrdom us the noblest illustration of self sacrificing love and patient gentleness and heroic magnanimity. They have so entirely lost sight of the human side of Christ’s charaoter that they have converted even His sufferings into a mere dogma; and with thtir old Hebrew conceptions of ‘sacrifice by the shed ding of blood,’ ‘propitiation,’ and the like—obso lete images and mere local figures of speech—have well-nigh lost the highest moral conception of self-sacrifice.” I will leave these extracts to speak for themselves without appending any remarks of my own. Fas est et ab lioste doceri. Let us stand aloof from all religious fel lowship or association with those by whom this fundamental doctrine of Christianity is thus openly assailed. These are surely times in which it becomes us to be “valiant for the truth,” to “contend earnestly for the faith once for all delivered to the saints, ” to “strive together for the faith of the Gospel” —the unchanging, everlasting Gospel which, may I not say, like its Divine Author and great subject, is “the same yesterday and to day and forever ?” J. W. A Prayer. “ Turn us again, O Lord God of Hosts.”—Psalm lxxx. 19. Here is a prayer for conversion to God. Turn us again. When thou art converted, said Christ to Peter, strengthen the brethren. Peter had already been converted; and the conversion to which the Saviour referred was his being turned from the sin of denying him. So this prayer implies that they who offer it have been converted, but have wan dered from God and fallen into sin, and they pray that they may be turned again, or con verted from their wanderings, brought back to God, and restored to his favor. This prayer implies previous conversion, for it is, Turn us again. It implies wander ing, else why should we need to be turned. It implies desire to be brought back, else why call upon God to turn us. It implies a purpose to return, for it is but mockery to ask God to turn us, while we are unresolved to return to him. A revival is a turning again of God’s people unto him; and if we have any desire for a season of refreshing from the presence of the Lord, our constant prayer should be, Turn us again, O Lord of Hosts, cause thy face to shine, and we shall be saved. The terms ®f salvation are the same in all ages. PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE A CO., POR THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. MACON, GA., FRIDAY, MARCH 11, 1870.. How Mr. Stringent Became Lift- j eral. Mr. Stringent was sixty years old—very j old, I should have called him, when I was a child. He was “brought up” in a thrifty, economical way. His father was a small, snug farmer; but, ns his wants were but few, he was called “well to do in the world,” which I suppose, means “well to do for this world.” His children received a fair educa tion, aud were always among the best scholars. No better cows and no better sheep were owned in those parts, than those owned by old Mr. Stringent. His maxim was, “keep what yon have got, and get all you can.” This maxim he inculcat ed most faithfully into the minds of his children. In process of time old Stringent died, and, fortunately, such men carry noth ing with them. The children grew up and were scattered abroad, and I have nothing to say about them, except that they were all keen to gain this world. lam to speak of the youngest son, Simon, who took “the old place,” that is, the farm, agreeing to pay off his brothers and sisters their shares as fast as he could earn it. And now, Simon, in his youth, was mar ried and settled at “Craig’s Valley,” as the farm waß called. He had to support him self and his young family, and yearly pay a good round sum toward his debt. Early and late he toiled. Carefully aud anxiously ha saved everything possible. His expen ses were the lowest possible ; everything went to “the debt.” And if there was any thing Simon dreaded more than another, it was a call for charity, or, as he termed it, “the everlasting contribution box.” The announcement that a “collection would be made next Sabbath,” would invariably make him unwell and unable to attend chapel. Indeed so delicate was his constitution that .once in a while, when he had been caught, he was sure to have the nose-bleed, and be . compelled to go out before the box reached him. But years passed on, and his habits grew strong and his debts feeble, until at the end of fifteen years, he had paid off every debt, and owned a large farm free from nearly every incumbrance. But now anew chapter in his life was to be experienced. There was an outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon the people. Very many sang the new song. Very many re joiced in tlie hope of eternal life. Several of the children of Simon- were among the new born children of light. Simon was the last to become interested. He was the last to feel his sins ; and he struggled and re sisted a long, long time, before he yielded to the demands and conditions of Christ. Then he was very slow to take up the crosses as they lay in his path. He was afraid to commit himself. He was slow to erect the altar of prayer in his house. He was slow to confess Christ before the world. But he battled all these difficulties and overcame them, because he really had Christian prin ciples in his soul. But now he met a diffi culty which seemed insurmountable, unex pected, and very trying. He found that now his brethren and his pastor took it for granted that he would be liberal. How could he, who had never given away a shill ing a year, be expected to give tens and even hundreds ? How hard to understand the Christian fact—that “none of us liveth to himself!” He tried to convince himself that a man’s first duty is to provide for his family; and oonscience told him that he had been doing nothing else all his life. He tried to con vice himself that “Charity be gins at home ;” and conscience told him that he wanted it to stop there also. When he read his Bible, he seemed as if he was always stumbling upon such texts as “Free ly ye have received, freely give.” One day he sat a long time motionless, trying to con vince himself that he had not received much. “Why, what little I have, I earned myself by hard labor. Pray, what have I received ?” and then conscience would be gin her whispers : “Why, Simon Stringent, you received a good constitution—you were never sick a day in all your life !” “That is true.” “And you received a shrewd mind ; you know how to manage and make money. And you have received a great deal of sun shine, and a great many rains on your farm, and a great increase of your cattle and flocks ; and you have received a large heal thy family, no deaths in it, and you have received many years of life already, and hope for more ; and you have received the Sabbath and its blessings]; and you have, as you hope, received the pardon of your sins, and a hope of life eternal through God’s own Son. Received! Why, you have re ceived everything ; it has been nothing but receiving, and now you must give !” O Simon ! how hard you breathe! How the perspiration stands on your brow ! Had he been dreaming, or had the Spirit of God been teaching him ! The very next day, Simon, or, as he was called, Mr. Stringent, hoard a loud and ten der appeal from the missionary field. Aud now a collection was to be made, not in the chapel where every man could dodge or con ceal his parsimony, but by an open sub scription, black aud white. The collector was to come around at once. Then it was that the dialogue, which is said to have ta ken place between Mr. Stringent and the devil occurred. “How much must I giva ?” said Strin gent. “As little asyou can—and be respectable,” said the devil. “I am very far from being rich,” said Stringent. “You are the richest man in the church,” said conscience. “Suppose I give five pounds.” “Fully enough,” said the tempter. “Freely ye have received, freely give,” said conscience. “Remember your great family, their schooling and clothing, and the new furni ture and the new carriage which you need,” said the tempter. “I shall put down ten pounds,” said Stringent. “You are beside yourself! Why, they, will expect you to do in like proportion for everything hereafter. There’s no end to these calls,” said the tempter. “I shall put down twenty pounds,” said Stringent. “Yes, but do consider,” said the tempter; “you know your taxes are awful this year; and you know your oats are very light, and they sell by weight, and not by the bushel, as they once did; and the drought has injur ed your grass, and your fruit will be next to nothing.” “Yes,” said conscience ; “but your corn is magnificent, and so are your potatoes ; and if hay is light, the price is heavy; and your workmen never earned as much as they do this year ; and the shipment of timber, which had been growing long before you were born, has brought an enormous price. ” “I shall put down fifty pounds ! “O Mr. Stringent! Mr. Stringent ! you are nearly crazy—to throw away your money so ! Why, sir, with that sum you could buy two young cows, or ten first-rate—” “Get out—get out, you tempter of my soul ! I shall put down one hundred pounds this time, and if you don’t let me alone, I declare I will double it!” And Mr. Stringent did put it down ; and he felt so much better, and grew so strong under it, that it was well understood be tween him and the devil, ever after, that if he was tempted, he would double his chari ties. And so well did he abide by it, that he became one of the most liberal men in the community. And when he went round to collect for charities, as he often did—the most liberal man always being the best col lector —and when his brethren would make excuses, he would shake his head and say, “I only wish you could have such dialogues with the devil as I have had !” — The Church. Entire Devotion. —Unless I make reli gion my great and engrtissing concern, I shall be a stranger to all solid peace and en joyment. I have at times caught a glimpse of the comfort which it yields the spirit, when I 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 entire renunciation of self, and entire devotion to God’s service, would give a simplicity and grandeur to my existence— would throw an unclouded sunshine over all my ways—would raise me above the cares and provocations of this life—would enhance even my sensible gratifications and superadd those gratifications of a higher or- der which constitute the main and essential tdessedness of heaven. Omy God, may it be thus with me ! Call me out of nature’s darkness into thine own marvellous light. Give me to aspire after the graces, and hold forth to my acquaintances, and above all, to my oliildren, the example of all righteous ness. 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, aud feel it my meat and drink to do thy will. Japan Opening to tlie Gospel. Theßev. Messrs. David Thompson, Ed ward Comes and C. Carothers, missionaries of the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Mis sions in Japan, have written a letter ad dressed to the ministry and membership of the United Presbyterian Church, in which they indulge in hopeful prospects for the future of the Japanese. They tell us— “Budhism, which has been so long the controlling religion of the empire, has been virtually rejected by the government during the present year, and forbidden to receive any more pupils for its priesthood. This is itsjleath blow, and so many of the priests and people regard it. At the same time, the Government is trying to revive Shinto ism, the ancient faith of the land. But there is little in it to uphold. It is too bald a:>d cold a system to attract the masses. The ruling and educated classes have long been Confucionists. But the study of the litera ture and sciences of the West is taking the place of the study of Confueionism and tho Chinese language. “Asa natural consequence, these are be coming neglected. This decline of the Chi nese will also hasten the complete downfall of Buddhism, and seriously weaken all the religious systems, as the religious literature is so largely in that language. The priests and more intelligent of the people aro toss ed on a sea of wild conjecture as to what will be the religious future of the land, nnd they are, perhaps, now studj-ing the subject of religion as never before. “The demand upon us for Chinese and English Bibles, and for books and tracts on Christianity, during the last year, has been very great. A few of the most intelligent of the priesthood have sought personal in terviews with the missionaries to discuss re ligious subjects. The high priests of some of the principal temples have sent for copies of everything we had on Chriitianity. An educated man, not a Christian, has a school of about a hundred pupils iu Yedo, in which he teaehes the Chinese Bible and a Chinese translation of the evidences of Christianity, and he has signified his desire to have a missionary come and explain them to his pupils. “These are only samples of the facts which show plainly that now is the Church’s opportunity, aud that she should have a large force of active missionaries on the field without delay. Tho duty is more ur gent as the language is a difficult one, re quiring two or more years of close study be fore it can be spoken with sufficient fluency for effective preaching. “Japan is peculiarly an American field. The completion of the great Pacific Rail road brings it a month’s travel nearer to you. It is nearer to the United States than to any of the other protestaut Christian na tions, and the work of evangelizing it na turally devolves upon the American chur ches. The other Protestant nations have so interpreted our duty, for so far they have left the field to American missionaries. “The Japanese look to the United States for instruction in all the arts of peace. They use our school books and apparatus. They send their young men, for the most part, to our schools and colleges, and will do so more exclusively in the future than in the past. They look to us for teachers, and thus the preference seems to be for mission aries, as those best qualified to instruct them. As we already have the field, and the greatest influence with the people, shall we not do our whole duty in entering in with sufficient force to possess the entire land ? Iu all the secular departments, American enterprise is doing her duty— shall not the American Church show equal Zealand fidelity.” Tlioughts about the Ministry by Ministers. I longed to be as a flame of fire continually glowing in the divine service, preaching and building up Christ’s kingdom to my latest, my dying hour.— Brainerd. In times past, when I was hut a young divine, methought Paul did unwisely in glo rying so often of his calling in all his epistles; but I did not understand his purpose; for I knew not that the ministry of God’s word was so weighty a matter.— Luther. I read other books that I may be the bet ter able to understand the Scriptures.— M. Henry. May I be taught to remember that all other studies are merely subservient to the great work of ministering holy things to immortal souls.— Henry Martyn. Patient application is everything. With out it you may have a number of half-framed ideas floating in your mind; but deep, con nected, large and consistent views of any subjects, you will never gain.— Miller. Abhor one hour of idleness as you would be ashamed of one hour of drunkenness.— Thomas Shepherd. One devout thought is worth them (his books) all.— Leighton. In my preaching, I could not be satisfied unless some fruits did appear in my work.— Bunyan. I would think it a greater happiness to gain one soul for Christ than mountains of silver and gold to myself.— M. Henry. I long for the conversions of souls more sensibly than for anything besides! Me thinks I could not only labor, but die for it with pleasure.— Doddridge. He (Alleine) was infinitely and insatiably greedy for the conversion of sinners. God is my witness that your (his people’s) salvation would be two salvations to me, and your heaven would be as two heavens to me. — Rutherford. A.poor country parson, fighting against the devil in his parish, has nobler ideas than Alexander had.— Adam. Now, after forty years preacliiDg of Christ and his great and sweet salvation, I think I would rather beg my bread all the laboring days of the week for the opportunity of pub lishing the gospel on the Sabbath to an as sembly of sinful men, than, with such a privilege, enjoy the richest possessions on eartli.— J(.hn Brown of Haddington. That a man is a minister is no token that he shall not be cast into hell-fire. — A kxandcr. Oh that I was all heart and soul and spirit to tell the glorious gospel of Christ to per ishing multitudes!— R. Hill. I see that spirituality of mind is the main qualification for the work of the ministry.— Urquhart. We are weak in the pulpit because we are weak in the closet.— James. I know not what others think, but for my own part, I am ashamed of my stupidity,and wonder at myself that I deal not with my own and other’s souls as one that looks for the great day of the Lord; and that I can have room for almost any other thoughts and words, and that such astonishing matters do not wholly absorb my mind. — Barter. Tell him (his son) that his poor father learnt his most valuable lessons for the min istry, and his most useful experience in re ligion, in the poor man’s cottage. —Legh Richmond. Short Sermons. —“ Brevity is not only the soul of wit,” but soul of wisdom for the preacher. Who has not been conscious of a very strong impression from a sermon up to a certain point, which from an unfortu nate elongation has been dissipated so that the final impression has been a weak one ? The trouble lias been that more members have been added to the discourse than the thought could vitalize. The circulation be comes feeble in these extremities of a ser mon. The preacher may have been all the while warming up, but his discourse has been sensibly cooling off. ‘Non mtdta sed multum’ —not many things but much, is a worthy motto for a preacher. A clergyman died a few years since in Massachusetts who had been settled over one parish for more than half a century, and when a parishioner was asked the secret of his eminent success, he replied, ‘He never preached a sermon over thirty minutes long.’” —Watchman and RtfUdqr. “If You Lowe Me, You Will Lean Hard.” In the memoir of Miss Fidelia Fisk, we find the following interesting incident, which we give in her own words. She says: “A few Sabbaths since I went to Geog Topa with Mr. Stoddard. It was afternoon, and I was sitting on a mat near the middle of the church, which has no seats, and only a floor of earth. I had been to the exercises before going to the church, one the Sab bath-school, and the other a prayer-meet ing, with my girls. I was weary, nnd long ed for rest, and, with no support, it seem ed to me that I could not sit there till the close of tho service ; nor could I hope for rest even when that was over, for I must meet the women readers of the village, and encourage them in reading their Testaments. I thought how I would love to be in your ehurch; but God took the thought from me very soon, for, finding that there was some one directly behind me, I looked, and there was one of the sisters, who had seated her self so that I might lean upon her. I ob jected ; but she drew me back to the firm support she could give, saying, ‘lf you love me, you will lean hard.’ Did I not then lean hard ? And then there came the Mas ter's own voice, ‘lf you love me, you will lean hard ;’ and I leaned on Him too, and felt that He had sent the poor woman to give me a better sermon than I might have heard even with yon. I was rested long be fore the church services were finished : and I afterwards had a long hour with the women readers, and closed with prayer. A little after sunset we left, to ride six miles to our home. I was surprised to find that I was not at all weary that night, nor in the morning, and I have rested ever since, re membering the sweet words, ‘lf you love me, lean hard. ’ ” And does not the sympathizing Saviour say to each one of his friends, “If you love me, lean hard. ” How many are the emer gencies in which they feel the need of lean ing on one stronger than they ? How often, under the pressure of responsibilities and cares; duties and trials, are they worn and weary—well-nigh crushed ? They sensibly realize that their strength is weakness. They faint and are ready to fall. But the compassionate Saviour beholds them. He well knows all their necessities, aud his kind invitation to them is, “Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will givo you rest.” Nor is this a mere mocking invitation. Multitudes both in heaven and earth can bear witness to its faithfulness. In their need, they have taken the Saviour at His word. They have shown their love to Him by confiding in Him. They have leaned hard upon Him, and they have found that He was both will ing aud able to sustain them. Waiting on they have renewed their strength. And Christ would have His people avail themselves of this privilege to a much lar ger extent than they do. He well knows the number and the weight of their bur dens, and He would not have them bear them alone. He would have them come with them all to Him. And, if they will, He will impart to them abundantly as His infinite grace. And thus shall they find in their own blessed experience, that •> »Jen they are weak then are they strong, and that they can do all things through Christ, who streugtheneth them. Solomon, in his matchless song, repre sents the Church under the image of a woman, coming up from the wilderness lean ing upon her beloved. The people of Christ are passing throug the wilderness of this world, on a pilgrimage to a better home be yond. It is a long and weary pilgrimage, and they often tire and faint. Sometimes it seems to them as though they should sink beneath their But Jesus, their Almighty and ever-faithful Friend, is with them. Unseen, he goes with them all the weary way. He never leaves them, nor for sakes them. It is their privilege at all time? to lean on Him. In loving confi dence, they may lean hard. The harder they lean, the better will he like it. He will take it as a token of their affection. And thus leaning they will be refreshed. The strong arm of their Saviour will lighten their burdens, help them over the rough ness of the way, aud give them ull needful support in the Valley of the Shadow of Death.—A. Y. Observer. Effectual Prayer] Illustrated. Dr. Guthrie, in his discourses on the Para bles, gives an illustration from Eastern life, which throws a flood of light on the succet-s of the woman pleading with the unjust judge. He says of her importunity : This art is carried to the highest perfec tion in the East. A traveler in Persia tells how he was besieged by one who solicited a gift more costly than ho was prepared to give. The hoary, and as the people esteem ed him, holy mendicant, sat himself down before liis gate, throwing up a rude tent to shelter himself from the noonday sun. There he remained like a sentinel, nor left his post but to follow the traveler out of doors, and return with him. Taking snatches of sleep during the day, when the other rested in the house, he kept up a hideous howling, and clamorous demands, all the hours of the night—an annoyance whioh, persisted in for successive -days and nights, and even weeks, seldom fails, as you can suppose, to gain its object. Such were the means by which the widow gained hers. So soon as ever this unjust judge took his seat at the gate of the city, wherein the east courts are held and all causes heard, his eye, as it roamed over the crowd, fell on her. There she was, and al ways was—sorrow in her dress, but deter mination in the flash of her eye ; her form bent down with grief, bnt her spirit unbro ken ; resolved to give the judge no rest till he had avenged her of her adversary. Now breaking in on the business of the court, she is on her feet, passionately demanding justice, and now, stretched on the ground at his feet, she piteously implores it. Nor can he shake her oft - . Denied her suit, she follows him to his house to interrupt his leisure and imbitter his pleasures. Her voice ringing loud on the threshold demand ing entry, she bursts into his presence, and is dragged awav by the servants, thrust out, but only to return, as the ball struck re bounds, the billow shattered on the rock falls back into the deep to gather volume and strength for anew attack. And as by constant dashing the waves in time cut into the cliff, which, yielding to the incessant ac tion of a weaker element, some day bows his proud head, and precipitating itself for ward, falls into the sea, which, swallows it up, sweeps over it with jubilant, triumphant waves, so the persistence of the widow over comes the resistance of the judge. Diamond cuts diamond. She conquers by importu nity. Yielding to her requests, he says; “Because this widow troubleth mo, I will avenge her, lest by her continual coming she weary me.” Without Christ. Did you ever consider tlie’import of that apostolic expression? Only two words, a preposition and a noun—the idea contained lias magnitude and importance not easily measured. Tho words are descriptive of what every Christian on earth, and every redeemed soul in heaven once were; and also of what every unbeliever on earth and every lost soul in the world of woo now are—“ without Christ.” Those best understand the mean ing of the phrase who have passed through the trials of life “without Christ;” who have died “without Christ;” who arc pass ing their eternity “without Christ.” But none of them are here to give the explana tion. What are the facts as we know them? To be “without Christ” is certainly to be without spiritual life, “dead in sins.” “He that hath the Son hath life; but he that hath not the Son hath not life.” These are in disputable facts. It is to be without acceptable righteous ness. Apart from a personal interest in the merit of an atoning Savior, imputed through faith, no one stands justified before God, “ Accepted in the Belove'd.” It is to be without valid hope. The Divine promise to eternal life is to such only as be lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ. “Having no hope” is descriptive of the condition of every one who is “ without Christ.” It is to be without an all-sufficient Helper in the trials and perplexities of life. Christ is a friend needed by all, and the occasions are many when, to be without Him, is to be wretched indeed, It is to be without support and solace in death. None but Jesus can make easy the bed of the dying. Apart from Him the passage to another world is dark and fearful. It is to be without an intercessor at the final judgment. How dreadful in that hour to be on trial for eternity, and have no Christ as an advocate with the Father! It is to be without a place in heaven. The mansions prepared by Jesus are for such as love Him: “ None‘sliall obtain admittance there But followers af the Lamb.” The Crooked Stick. “Christ was a service for all his mem bers,” said James Tlierrall, an old osrpen ter in a village on Salisbury Plain, to a youDg Christian who complained that she was unworthy to work for the Lord. “Let not one of tlie members say, ‘The Head has no need of me.’ I used to think ns you do long ago, but He taught me otherwise by a crooked stick. “One day my son went to a sale of timber, and in the lot was a stick so twisted and bent that I spoke sharply to him: ‘You have a bad bargain there, lad; that crooked stick will be of no use to any one. ’ “ ‘lt’s all timber,’ replied my son, not the least vexed by my reproof. ‘I paid tho same price for it as the rest. Depend upon it, no tree grows for nothing. Wait a bit; don’t fret, father; let us keep a lookout; there’s a place somewhere for it.-’ “A little time after this I had a cottage to build; a queer bit of a house it was, and pretty enough when it was finished; there was a corner to turn in it, and not a stick in the yard would fit. I thought of the crook ed one, and fetched it. Many a hard day’s work would have failed to prepare a joist like it. It seemed as if the tree had grown aside for this very purpose. “Then, said I, There’s a place for the crooked stiok, after all! Then there’s a place for poor James Tlierrall. Dear Lord! show him the place into whioh he may fit in building tliy heavenly temple! That very day I learned that what God gives me he gives for his glory; and poor and unlet tered as I was, thero was a work for me. There is a work for yon; God has some thing for you to do, and nobody else can do it!” This village-carpenter had neither the knowledge of tho schoolman, nor had he ta ken a degree at college; yet he was a teach er of divine truths, and lie was wise in tlie wisdom of the children of light. He would often recur to the time when, looking solely on his own weakness and infirmities, he overlooked his only source of strength, and thought he was too jioor and ignorant to do any thing for the Lord he loved! He lived to a good old age, a blessing to tho souls in his neighborhood, and where, as he liked best to stay, he watched for his Mas ter. When someone who loved his ease too well, or child, or servant, or sick one, com plained, “I can do nothing,” lie would point to the best built cottage on the plain, with a pretty bay-window and slanting roof, and tell them he had once thought the same himself, but his error had been corrected by a dumb instructor—a beam in that roof —a crooked stick, which seemed fit for nothing; but it found its proper place in tho building at last, and gavo it a grace aud strength which no other timber, however superior in other respects, could have im parted. Thus the warped tree had preached to him a sermon on true humility, and made him from that day a humble steward of the things of the kingdom. A Brand from the Burning. A student of the Episcopal Theological Seminary in Virginia, who has labored with much sucoess as a oolporteur, and has seen Saod springing up wherever he has circulated le publications, mentions a striking in stance of reformation effected by the influ ence of tracts: “I do not believe the friends of the So ciety begin to realize what an instrument it is iu the hands of the Almighty for the pro motion of good among the erring. The great trouble with sinners is that they will not think. Traots accomplish this sooner than anything else I haveseen tried. A few weeks ago, as I approached a little country store, I noticed an old white-headed man reeling and staggering in a drunken fit. He began to curse and swear, using very abusive language. On finding out who I was, he immediately camo and apologised, saying, ‘I have been drunk three days; I know it is wrong; I ask your pardon, sir. I wish I was a better man.’ I told him he could be if he would, and that I had some thing that would help him if ho would read it carefully. He said he would. I gave him ‘A Word to the Intemperate,’ and ‘Don’t Swear.’ He crammed them in his pocket, saying that ho would read them when he got sober, and he did. He read ‘ A Word to the Intemperate ’ twice every day regularly. He aske<l everybody he saw to read it for his benefit and theirs, and would say, ‘ Ain’t it the best thing you ever read? Don’t it hit me exactly! I tell you all, by tho help of God, I’ll never touch another drop as long as I live. That was a good man that gave me this, .and I am going to do better.’ Soou after, he went to a picnic, where his friends, or enemies rather, coaxed and urged him to drink with them; but not one drop would he drink. A few days since, while at tending a meeting, he was hopefully con verted. 1 Oh,’ said he, ‘ that tract set me to thinking, and that, together with_the ser mon, caused me to take no rest until I found it in Jesus. I could not stand it. I had to give myself to God. And now when I meet him he grasps my hand warmly, and wishes me God-speed.”— American Messenger. Effective Christianity. In regard to that Christianity which the world most requires today, Bishop Hunting ton very truly remarks: We want in you a Christianity that is Christian across counters, over dinner ta bles, behind tho neighbor's back as in his face. Wo want in you the Christianity that we can find in the temperance of a meal, in moderation of dress, in respect for authority, in amiability at home, in veracity and sim plicity in mixed sooiety. Rowland Hill used to say, lie would give very little for the re ligion of a man whose very dog and cat were not the better for his religion. We want fewer gossipping, slanderous, peevish, con ceited Christians. To make them effectual, all our public re ligious measures, institutions, benevolent agencies, missions, need to bo managed on a high-toned, scrupulous and unquestionable tone of honor, without evasion or partisan ship, or over much of the serpent's cunning. The hand that gives away the Bible must be unspotted from the world. The money that sends the missionary to the heathen must be honestly earned. In short, tho two arms of the Church—justice and mercy—must be stretched out, working for man, strengthen ing the brethren, or else your faith is vain and ye are yet in your sins. Appointed to Me.—A voice from tlie sick room says : —lt helped me immensely last night, in my pain, to remember the text, “Wearisome nights are appointed unto me.” The idea that they were no accident, no blunder of my physician, but appointed by my best Friend, this was strength to me. When all were sleeping, and His eye saw my weariness, then I was sure that, for in finitely wise and kind reasons, all was ar ranged and prepared for me. This stilled my soul. This is our life lesson. Property takes wings—friends fail us—good schemes miscarry—plans of usefulness nre thwarted by most unlooked for interventions —health gives out—action gives place to suffering. Where we were cheerfully doing, we can now only wait God’s will. Darkness and doubt shut us in. For many days neither sun nor stars appear. But all is well; these things are appointed unto us. Only let us believe this—let a calm faith recognize the gracions Providence which shapes all our ways, and we can then endure until the dawn shall bring light and joy.— F. G. Clarke, D. D. God would have us pray with earnestness. The best proof of earnestness is simplicity. Better in God’s sight are the broken but heartfelt utterances of some than those who think themselves wonderful in prayer. If you would have the Lord love you, be a cheerful giver. E. H. MYERS, D. D., EDITOR WHOLE NUMBER 1793. Infidelity and tlie Faith of a Child. A little girl, eight years of age, poorly clad, was one day sitting on the grass oppo site the cottage of her father, who was a poor day-laborer. Bnt she loved Jesus, and was singing hymns, and every time she pro nounced the name of Jesus her eyes filled with tears. The Count de P , who lived in a fine mansion in the neighborhood (in Prnssia), passed by the place and (surprised the little girl in her oocupation. He was a rich and dissipated man, whose great delight was to mock at the gospel. He heard the sweet voice of the child; he saw that her eye was wet with tears, and that a ray of celestial joy illuminated her countenanoe, and he stopped a moment to oonverse with her.— “Why do you weep, my little girl?” heasked. “Are you ill?” “No, sir,” she said, “bnt I am so happy!” “ Why, then, do you weep?” asked the Count, astonished. “Because I love Jesns so much. “Why do you love him so much? He died a long time ago. He is not now able to do you any good.” “ You aro mistaken. Sir; He is not dead; He is in heaven.” “ That may be; but what benefit is that to you? If He wished to help you He would enable your mother to buy you better olotbes.” “I do not care to have beautiful clothes, but I know that Jesus will como one day and take me with Him to heaven.” “Stuff and nonsense!” said the Count, stamping his foot. “ Your old and foolish grandmother has taught you these fooleries.” “ Pardon me, sir, these are not fooleries, but truths. Yes, all this is true, very true, and that is why I am so happy.” The Count departed, but he was not able soon to forget what he had seen and hoard. The joyous countenance of the sweet child, her bright and beautiful eyes filled with tears of joy, were always in his thoughts,and the words, spoken with so firm a voice: “All this is true, very true, and this is why I am so happy,” sounded continually in his cars. “It is strange,” he said to himself, “there is nothing in infidelity which can make a poor child so satisfied nnd happy. There must be in .religion a deep secret which has escaped me hitherto. ” This idea could not be banished from his mind. After a sharp internal conflict ho renounced his infidelity, and became a sincere and zealous Christian. “Almanachdes Buns Conseils”for 1870. Dumb but Eloquent. The following touching story of “a hand some English ooueli-dog” and his drunken master, is vouched for by a leading Boston paper: The man pursued his devious course, close ly followed by his four-footod companion, until at length he approached the door of the saloon referred to, and was about to en ter, when, to tho surprise of all who had witnessed the affair, the dog jumped up, and cutoliing the skii'ts of the man’s eoat, sought to prevent him from going in. The inebriated biped spoko in angry tones to the beast, but without avail, until a more than ordinarily severe command induced him to relinquish his hold, and the man hastened inside, followed by his faithful companion and would-be proteotor. Actuated simply by curiosity, we also went in, and as we gained a position near the bar, saw in close proximity thereto the beast and his master, the latter trying to reach the bar, and the former standing on his hind legs, with his forepaws placed against the man’s breast, vainly endeavor ing, even at the eleventh hour, to prevent him from again indulging in the intoxioat ing oup. * To the credit of the bar-tender be it sta ted, that he refused to furnish the man with more liquor, and tears were drawn from eyes that had long been nnnsed to the molting mood, as at each refusal the undoubtedly heart-strioken canine would bestow a look intended, doubtless, to be one of gratitude upon the dispenser of “juleps,” “slings,” and “tods,” aud then turning, would, as it were, mutely beseeoh his liquor-loving mas ter to abstain. The Ileal Presence. Tlie Catholics pretend to believe that the bread and wine used in the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper are the real body and the real blood of Christ. Luther was perhaps never cured of this old Romish idea. He held to an opinion on the subject that is' somewhat difficult to understand. Recently we saw an article in one of our exchanges attempt ing to explain the doctrine of Luther and his followers cn the subject, but to our mind it was not very clear. Here is something that we cut from an exchange, whioh strikes us as having point: Rev. Dr. Cumming, of London, recently said that in the Highlands of Scotland he once met a lady of noble birth who asked him if he believed in tho “real presence.” “Certainly I do,” he said. “I am very glad,” she replied; ‘ ‘lmt you are the lirst Protest ant clergyman I ever met who did.” “Wo attach different meanings to the same words,” said Dr. Cumming. “I believe in the real presence of our Lord wherever two or three are gathered together in his name. I can not believe as you do about the real pres ence, when I consider the words, ‘lu re membrance of Me. ’ Memory has to do with the past, with au altsent frieud. To eat and drink in remembrance of one who is actually present before one’s eyes is an absurdity.” Hospitality in the House op God.— The following, on church hospitality, we com mend to the attention of our people. The directions here given, if carefully followed out, would have a wonderful effect for good: Every church that would prosper must show proper attention to strangers. It should be seen that they are promptly and oourteously provided with seats, and made to feel that they have a cordial weloqgio there. Kind looks should greet them as they come, and follow them as they go. Should they come again, let them meet with the same reception. And should they be come constant worshippers there, let them be sought out and visited, not merely by tho pastor, but by members of the church and society. Whether rich or poor, they should not be overlooked or neglected. They have claims as strangers, irrespective of all out ward distinction. Let us see that they have prompt attention. How incalculably would the tone of a con vei-tsaion be improved if it offered no ex ceptions to the example of Bishop Beveridge: “ Resolve never to speak of a man’s virtues to his face, nor his faults behind his back a golden rule, the observance of which would banish flattery and defamation from the earth. Conversation stock being a joint and common property, every one should take a share in it, and yet thero may be societies in which silence will be our best contribu tion. When Isocrates, dining with tho King of Cyprus, was asked why he did not mix with tlie discourse of the company.he replied : “ What is seasonable I do not know, and what I know is not seasonable.” Shut tee Door.— l feel that I know aud all that I teach will do nothing for my soul if I spend my time, as some people do, in business or company. My soul starves to death in the best company, and God is of ten lost in prayers and ordinances. “Enter into tliy closet,” said He, and “shut thy door.” Some words iuPscripture are very emphatical. “Shut thy door” means much: it means, shut out, not only nonsense but business; not only the company abroad but the company at home ; it means, let thy poor soul have a little rest and refreshment, and God have opportunity to speak to thee in a still small voice, or He will speak to thee iu thunder.— Cecil. We must never fall into the delusion that the purposes of God set aside the use of means. I have heard thoughtless or captious talkers say: ‘ “ If God works out his pur poses, then there is no need for preaching or any other means.” Ah! simpleton that thou art, if we teach yon that God works out his purposes by means, how mad you must be to charge us with thinking lightly of the means!”■— Sp urgeon. The Gospel prepares the saint for heaven, and fits every power of his soul for the busi ness and blessedness of those happy regions. — Watts. True faith makes she sinner humble, ac tive and self-denying; false faith leaves men proud, insolent and selfish. Quiet consoienos gives quiet sleep.