many of any other. During his ministry in Zion Chapel, his occasional labours elsewhere were numerous and effective. His annual visit to London kept him before the eye of the friends of the Redeemer in that great city. The influence derived from his father's popularity and usefulness, gave him a wider door of utterance, and aided the willingness of his reception. He did justice to his name, and to the cause he espoused, and was a good minister of Jesus Christ, nourished up in the word and doctrine whereunto he had attained a man of God thoroughly furnished unto every good word and work. "One feature of his usefulness was, perhaps, dearer to his heart than any other-the training of young men for the Christian ministry. For this work he was peculiarly qualified. His literary curiosity made it his delight to pursue every fresh accession to the domain of letters. His classic turn of mind adapted him not only to luxuriate himself in the elegancies of classic literature, but disposed him to woo his younger brethren into the same path: as the parent bird teaches its newly fledged charge to spread its wings and follow, so did he tempt the feeble in faculty, or the deficient in taste, to a nobler ambition, and to follow him where he with ease could soar. We know that it is not possible absolutely to create a taste for literature: like the eye which receives the light and the images of material beauty with it, so must the faculty within the soul have its being in nature, to see and to delight in the genius of other men, or to produce congenial works; but sluggish, indeed, must the perception of these things have been, which his intercourse would not improve. Having had the privilege for several years of being his pupil, I can bear this testimony, that never have I seen the genius of the man to such advantage as in the midst of his pupils. I have heard him from this pulpit; I have heard him from the platforms of London and of Manchester; but in the spontaneous bursts of eloquence with which frequently his students were favoured and surprised, unfettered by misgivings that his audience did not sympathise with him, he surpassed his public performances to a degree of which only they can judge who had similar opportunities of com. parison. I believe I only speak the opinion of such of his students as themselves continued to cultivate literary habits in riper years, when I thus speak. Just in proportion as they were themselves in love with letters, did they value the literary qualifications of their tutor; and in proportion as their position and usefulness became important, did they refer with pleasure and gratitude to him. He was as painstaking as he was able; as anxious for the progress of his students, as he was jealous for their renown. He felt a manly and just satisfaction as they rose in public favour, or were worthy of it. The success of any was a solace to him in years of trouble; and often, both by letter and in the intercourse of friendship, have I perused or heard the gush of his gratitude that he could point to some such. Perhaps this was the species of public utility which lay nearest his heart, perhaps it lay too near his heart. But, surely, the object was worthy of the solicitude; and if some yet survive him to preach the Gospel, which his instructions so much contributed to fit them for preaching, he has not laboured wholly in vain in this most difficult and beloved department of his benevolent pursuits. He was also a vigilant guardian of their conduct; his position was regarded by him in this respect as a solemn covenant with the Church of God; it was his desire, that in their riper years none should have to upbraid him that any relaxation of proper discipline on his part had withdrawn from their youth the benefit of experience and wisdom. Thus he felt. It was with him a sacred feeling, and he was true to it. How consoling the thought that so useful a life was his; that in this, and in other departments, his perseverance, talent, and conscientiousness surmounted so many obstructions. If he did not accomplish all he attempted, it was because he dared so much, and his benevolence comprised so much, and his hinderances were beyond human subjugation. Well do I remember when, with the pastora would so soon receive a confirmation to mean, "and am persuaded that He in his experience. On the following is able to keep that I have committed Saturday, while engaged in business, to him against that day." The next he was taken unwell, and was obliged day, which was the last he spent on to be removed to his home. Through earth, he appeared for several hourз £0 the night and during the following day revived that some of his friends began the symptoms were extremely distress- to entertain hopes that the crisis was ing, but his mind was tranquil. Being past, and that he would recover; but exceedingly weak, and suffering from their hopes were disappointed. To a shortness of breath, he could not con- member of the church, who saw him in verse with his friends; nor was he able the morning, and who had said to him, to read his much-loved Bible. He re- "I hope, dear sir, if I should never see marked to his anxious wife that the you again on earth, I shall meet you in sabbath had been rather a gloomy day. heaven;" he replied, "At that we must The writer found him on Monday even- both aim." With some relatives, who ing greatly altered, and felt apprehen- had been prevented from seeing him sive that the affliction would prove un- before during his illness, he conversed to death. He spoke to him of the design much in the course of the day, as he of affliction, and of the source of the did also with his beloved wife; but toChristian's comfort and support; when wards evening he relapsed to rally no he said, "All is right;" implying that more, and gradually sunk, until early he was in the Lord's hands, and felt in the morning of Friday, the 20th, not at all anxious respecting the issue when he finished his course with joy. of the affliction. On Tuesday evening he appeared to be a little relieved, and conversed freely with the writer for some time. Among other particulars, he referred to his past religious experience, and stated that for many years he had not had a doubt of his acceptance in the Beloved. Reference was made to the pleasures of Christian intercourse; when he remarked, "In consequence of my deafness, I have not had so much intercourse with living Christians as many; but perhaps this circumstance has led me to study more closely the experience of departed Christians, which has been a great benefit to me." When prayer was proposed, he said to the person, "Yes, do; that is what I delight in: but shall we not have a portion out of the treasury first?" meaning the word of God. Wednesday found him much weaker in body, and at times perfectly unconscious of all that was passing about him. When able to recognise his re latives and friends who were about his bed, he indicated his gratitude for their attention, and said something that was calculated to console them. A brother, who had arrived from a distance, said to him, "You know whom you have believed ?" "Yes," said he; "and am persuaded"- The sentence he could not finish, but he was understood Thus ended the days of one who for more than twenty years had been a consistent and useful member of the church of Christ, leaving behind him many who will mourn his loss, and who may yet profit from his example. The event of his death was improved on the sabbath evening after the funeral, from John xi. 11, "Our friend Lazarus sleepeth," to a large, attentive, and deeply-affected congregation. K. W. THE DEATH OF AGGY. July 15, 1847. MY DEAR EVELYN,-I have thought about you very much lately. You loved dear Aggy very greatly, and I know you feel very sorry now that she is taken from you. I want to tell you something that will not quite remove this sorrow, but it will soothe it, and make you so glad that Aggy is so happy. I have seen you and dear Agnes on a sabbath-day all in white, and beautifully you looked; but your dear sister looks more beautifully now than ever she did when on earth. The Bible tells us that in and these robes are so dazzling and so heaven she is clothed with "white robes," lovely that even the angels admire them. Sometimes little girls have beautiful flowers to adorn their brows; but dear Aggy has a crown, and it is more brilliant, and shines with a greater lustre than any crown that was ever seen in this world. Could you see her, you would be so struck with her appearance that you would almost wish to join her, and with her to "Walk the golden streets." You and dear Aggy used to play music together. I once heard you, and remember being much pleased with the skill which you manifested. But, my dear Evelyn, what music can be compared with that which dear Agnes now unites in before the throne of God? There she has a golden harp and oh, with what joy she strikes its strings and celebrates redeeming love. She has scarcely recovered from the wonder and the rapture which filled her mind on her being admitted to the society of angels and of perfected saints. How thankful she is now that she learned to know Christ when in "this present evil world." One part of her song now is, "Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever!" My dear Evelyn, you and dear Aggy used occasionally to go out into the country and to visit the gardens; but what a lovely country is that in which Agnes now roams : "There everlasting spring abides, And never withering flowers!" There "a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeds out of the throne of God and of the Lamb." There, "on either side of the river, is the tree of life, and it bears twelve manner of fruits, and yields her fruit every month." There the most delicious walks and the most perfect bliss are to be found. There one holy angel and another holy angel, one pious saint and another pious saint, walk with Agnes, and tell her of the glories of paradise and of the love of God: Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood Stand dressed in living green." Well, now, my dear Evelyn, though you are so sorry, on the one hand, at losing dear Aggy, ought you not to be glad, on the other, that she is so happy? Surely you ought. Now, you must inquire, "Shall I ever get to heaven? Shall I join Agnes there?" Yes, my dear Evelyn, you will if you turn from every evil way, and trust in Christ for salvation; but you must pray earnestly for the Spirit of God to help you. Ask mamma, and she will tell you what "a new heart" and trust in Christ mean. I remain, my dear Evelyn, THE BIRTH-DAY; OR, A FATHER'S ANSWER TO HIS SON ON BEING ASKED WHEN HIS BIRTH-DAY WOULD COME. "How WILLIAM said his mother promised him that when his birth-day came, he should have a few of his young friends to tea. The day arrived, and his companions came to spend the evening with him. After tea it was proposed, shall we spend the evening?" One young friend suggested a game at Blind Man's Buff: another thought it would be better to take a walk; but Mary said, "If you will hearken to me, I say that we sit around the table and tell stories;" and added, "I think I can tell you one that will be very interesting and profitable." To her they all agreed. Mary commenced by saying, "We all know that this is William's birth-day; but I have two birth-days to keep every year." They were all astonished, and said, "Oh, we are sure that isn't true!" "Well," she said, "I will tell you how it is: "I went to a sabbath-school; and my dear teacher used constantly to tell me that I was a sinful child, and must perish if I did not believe in Jesus Christ as my Saviour. She often used to pray with me, as well as tell me about it; and on one sabbath, especially after she had been praying and telling me about my wicked heart, I was so unhappy because I felt myself a sinner. I tried to drive away these thoughts and feelings that made me feel so miserable, but could not; the more I tried to forget them, the more I remembered them, that they made me so unhappy that I did not know what to do. I longed for the sabbath to come round to tell my teacher; and she said, 'If you will believe what Jesus says, then you will be happy.' 'Teacher,' I said, what is it?' My dear,' teacher replied, Jesus says, "Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest;" "My blood cleanseth from all sin;" "I died, the just for the unjust." "If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."' I felt that I could and did believe through God helping me; and I obtained peace through believing, and could not help singing, 'Come, let us join our cheerful songs, With angels round the throne,' &c. My father and mother said, Why, Mary, how is it you are so cheerful? 'Oh!' I said, if you only knew, father and mother, what made me so happy, you would be happy too.' 'Why, what is it, my child?' My sins are pardoned, through believing in Jesus!' I now had it appears; and your contempt for vice surrounded by attractions. Have the courage to thrust your legs down beneath the sheets in cold weather; and to shave every day before breakfast. Have the courage to pass the bottle without filling your own glass, and to laugh at those who urge you to the contrary. LITTLE JOHN. tea, as he saw his mother looking anx iously and sadly towards him. The nature of his disease, the dreadful hy. drophobia, was become too evident for concealment. John was put to bed, and his mother remained with him while I accompanied Mr. Sto church. None there as yet knew of what had happened, and were astonished at seeing this excellent man's eyes filled with tears, when, in the course of his sermon, the subject turned on the dreadful sacrifice by which Abra THUS writes an author, in his Diary of ham, in the strength of Divine faith, a Tour through Southern India: "On arriving at my esteemed friend's, the chaplain's house, I found it likely to become, ere long, the house of sorrow and mourning from the following melancholy occurrence:-On the 10th of October last, his only son, John, was playing with a little dog belonging to his father's Indian coachman; when suddenly the dog, without being at all provoked, (for the child was too kindhearted to tease even a dog,) bit him twice in the arm. Poor John ran into his father's house, crying a little, as the bite was very sore, but not making much noise lest he should frighten his mother. Mr. S-, as soon as he saw his arm, sent for the surgeon; who, when he came, dressed the wound, but thought there was no other apprehension to be entertained than that of a trifling pain and inflammation. offered up, at the command of God, 'his son, his only son, whom he loved.' Our pastor's voice became at last almost inarticulate; but a strong sense of his sacred duty, and the never-failing support of Him in whom he trusted, enabled him to complete the Divine service of the day; and we returned from it together in melancholy foreboding of the dreadful spectacle that would present itself to us on our arrival. 66 'Slight convulsions had seized John previous to our return; and we found with him, besides his mother, three physicians, and a kind-hearted, indefatigable lady, the wife of one of them, who was a native of India. At about two o'clock in the afternoon the convulsions became stronger, and all power of swallowing medicine was lost; & cure was clearly hopeless: but with a "Nearly two months elapsed without view to diminish the violence of the John's feeling unwell, and the bites in paroxysms, the patient was blooded, the arm were apparently quite healed; and a warm bath prepared, into which when, on the 8th of December, he began he was plunged, though the instant he to seem shy and uneasy, never lifting saw the water he screamed most vichis eyes from off the ground, or ventur- lently, struggled, and shook with exing to look at any one in the face; as treme terror. After having been imyet, however, he complained of nothing.mersed for a short time, he was taken On the 9th he continued to appear un-out, laid on his bed, and not again easy, and loathed his food, showing an especial dislike to anything liquid. The doctor was again sent for, and administered some trifling medicines, but still thought it was only a slight bilious complaint. At breakfast the next morning, which happened to be the sabbath, I sat next him, and offered him a saucer full of tea, when a sudden convulsive shuddering seized him, and tears started into his eyes; but with a strong gulp he swallowed down the removed from it, as it was deemed useless to administer any further remedy. Nothing was done from this time, but the occasionally wiping from his mouth the foam which collected there during the violence of the parox. ysms. To these were now added a sense of oppression on the chest, and a painful difficulty of breathing, which denoted the further progress of the disorder. All this time, during sufferings which I have rarely seen equalled Cabinet of Things New and Old. ON KEEPING THE SABBATH. THE celeorated Wilberforce ascribes his continuance for so long a time, under such a pressure of cares and labours, in no small degree to his conscientious and habitual observance of the sabbath. "Ŏ what a blessed day," he says, "is the sabbath, which allows us a precious interval wherein to pause, to come out from the thickets of worldly concerns, and give ourselves up to heavenly and spiritual objects. Observation and my own experience have convinced me that. there is a special blessing on a right employment of these intervals. One of their prime objects, in my judgment, is, to strengthen our impressions of invisible things, and to induce a habit of living much under their influence." "Ŏ what a blessing is Sunday, interposed between the waves of worldly business, like the Divine path of the Israelites through Jordan." "Blessed be God who hath appointed the sabbath, and interposed these seasons of recollection.' a blessed thing to have the Sunday devoted to God.” nothing in which I would recommend you to be more strictly conscientious than in keeping the sabbath holy. By this I mean not only abstaining from all unbecoming sports, and common business, but from consuming time in frivolous conversation, paying or receiving visits, which, among relations, often leads to a sad waste of this precious day. I can truly declare, that to me the sabbath has been invaluable." "It is : "There is In writing to his friend, he says: "I am strongly impressed by the recollection of your endeavour to prevail upon the lawyers to give up Sunday consultations, in which poor Romilly would not concur." What became of this same poor Romilly,* who would not consent, even at the solicitation of his friend, to give up Sunday consultations? He lost his reason, and terminated his own life. Four years afterwards Castlereagh came to the same untimely end. When Wilberforce heard of it, he exclaimed: "Poor fellow! He was certainly deranged; the effect, probably, of continued wear, of mind. The strong impression on my mind is, that it is the effect of the non-observance of the sabbath; both as to abstracting from politics and from the constant recurring of the same reflections, and as correcting the false views of worldly things and bringing them down to their true diminutiveness. "Poor Castlereagh! He was the last man in the world who appeared to be likely to be carried away into the commission of such an act; so cool, so self-possessed." "It is curious to hear the newspapers speaking of incessant application to business; forgetting that by the weekly admission of a day of rest, which our Maker has * Sir Samuel Romilly, Solicitor-General of England during the administration of Fox, who terminated his life November 2, 1818. L |