66 AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER ?"

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behaved well, but we cannot do so again. Surely some kind ladies will provide an adult school for the unhappy females of this dreadful place.

And now I have concluded my account of the infancy of this new school, which probably will grow as others have grown, and become an important institution.

Let us hope that it may ever be open to the most forlorn and wretched outcasts, and that so long as there remains in its neighbourhood an ignorant man to teach, there may be found within the walls of this school earnest Christian teachers, privileged with the opportunities of doing good, actively using the means, and humbly trusting to God for a rich blessing upon their work.

Temple.

"AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER ?"

J. M.

THE keeping of our brother implies sympathy and kindness for him in the common exigencies of life. We are to help him in his misfortune, we are to draw his ox from the pit, we are to run to extinguish the flames of his dwelling, we are to go out of our way to tell him that his pastures are broken in upon, we are to lend the strength of our muscles when his own are too weak. We are to watch with him in sickness. If he is querulous and whimsical, and unreasonable when disease is upon him, we are to put up with it. He is our brother.

We are to go to him with a grasp of the hand, and a sympathizing heart when death enters his household, we are to follow with the mourners to the grave. He is our brother.

We are to consider him in poverty, to open our stores to him as God has blessed us, to give to him not as to a beggar-a gift may be made a visit of humiliation to a sensitive heart--to give to him as to a brother.

We are to strengthen and encourage him in his attempts to secure a livelihood. To hold him up till he can go alone. To give him, to use a homely but honest expression," to give him a lift," just when it is most needful and will go farthest in blessing him. And there are ways enough for us all to do these common kindnesses and charities to our brethren, and let us not call them charities, let us call them debts of love. We are not so forward in this good work as to need no exhortation. The Scripture has too often dwelt upon this theme to make it right or safe to neglect it. And our religion, if we have any, is not merely a closet sigh; it mingles or ought to mingle with all relationship and duties; animate, inspire, and hallow them all; and go forth in hopeful activity to all whom our hands can aid or our hearts may love.

And the keeping of our brother implies also a healthful moral influence upon him. All that we can do to keep him from going wrong, from doing wrong, we ought to do-all that we can do by precept, all that we can do by example. If our doing a thing that to us is right, or indifferent in its character, will lead him to do a thing that for him is wrong, we had better refrain. If our position, not in itself a wrong one to keep, shelters him from convictions of truth and duty, and fortifies him in a standing that is wrong, we had better change our position. If you ask by what right we thus entrench upon your liberty for your brother's sake, we will answer you out of the word of God, and from the lips of Paul: "Take heed lest by any means this liberty of yours become a stumbling-block to them that are weak." 'If meat make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth, lest I make my brother to offend." If you say you cannot come up to this magnanimity of Paul; that you are not prepared to give up something which it is right and innocent for you to indulge in, because others may make a bad use of your example, when they have no business to; that every man must stand or fall by himself: we reply, in the first place, be it so, if you are not equal to such self-sacrifice as Paul's, own it and do not try to clear yourself. In this there is somebody you love a little better than you love your brother. You must

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acknowledge that too. And in the second place, it is not true that any man can stand or fall by himself. "For none of us liveth to himself," saith the oracle; "and no man dieth to himself;" and immediately it adds, “Why dost thou set at nought thy brother, for we shall all stand before the judgment-seat of Christ?" And one of the most tremendous chapters of human trial in the last great day will be that which investigates this very matter of reciprocal influences, and calls in question the tendency of one man's conduct and belief to determine the conduct and belief of another man. So long as the great tie of relationship exists of which I have spoken, we cannot say, we have no right to say, we are guilty if we say-"I will look out for myself-let another do

likewise."

other

We are to keep our brother again in his reputation. We are the depositories of another sacred trust, each other's fair fame. Our character is what we are ourselves-our good name is what others say of us. These two would always be alike if there were no slanderers in the world, but among worms that crawl and leave their slime behind them, the calumniator has a rank and a place. Now a man's reputation is his means of usefulness; destroy it, and you well nigh take away all power to do good. If such robbery touched only his sensibility, if it wounded his feelings and did no more, it would not be brotherly to perpetrate it. But when it kills his usefulness, blasts his prospects in life, blights his most cherished hopes, takes from his hand every instrument of profitable toil, makes those whom he would bless look cold upon him and shun him, you might almost as well stab with the dagger at once and done with it, as to stab with the tongue. We are then to be very careful, by whatever feelings we are actuated, to speak nothing wantonly or thoughtlessly, much less maliciously to another's discredit. And the best way to exercise this caution is to banish from our mind all those feelings that can prompt to such injustice. And when a tale of slander reaches us about a third person, we should look displeasedly upon such a visitor, we should decline such communications, we should avoid taking in the poison if we can, for despite our heartiest disclaimer, it may work upon us, and warp our judgment, and hatch some prejudice to the injury of the innocent. But if you must hear it, as the guardian of your brother's reputation, you have something to do in the premises. You are not to smile and nod, and say "aha," like the enemies of David. If we kept our brother's purse would it be right to let any man put his hand in who chooses to? and being by the bonds before-mentioned the keeper of your brother's reputation, is it right to let any man who has a foul tongue trifle with it? It is one of the most sacred duties we owe to our fellow-man, to watch with most fraternal solicitude over all that can affect his fair renown, and we can hardly sin against a higher and more important social interest than to sin against the sacredness of character.

We are to keep our brother in his spiritual interests. Religion, it is true, is a matter in the first place between every man and his God. We cannot repent and believe for another, but let us not say we have here alone no responsibility in the destiny of others. We ought to feel in this thing an interest for our brother as much deeper than that we feel on other matters, as the welfare of the soul is of more value than any temporal success. See we a Christian brother cold and sluggish in his spiritual life, we ought to arouse him by some animating appeal. See we him wandering, we ought to go after him and strive to lead him back; see we him estranged from the true brother hood of Christ's people, we ought to bind freshly again the fraternal bands around his heart. See we him cast down and mourning, we ought to give him tear for tear, and array again before his drooping eye the consoling promises of the Gospel of grace. We are bound to these duties not only by the common tie that girds the race, but by a special and most tender covenant relationship, which is dearer than the league of brothers in one household. But apart from this peculiar gird of obligation, and resting still on the universal bond, we have something to do in regard to the conversion of our impenitent friends around

us. It is not an impertinence to go to an unconverted man and strive to lead him to the long-neglected duty of repentance. Who of us can be satisfied to do nothing more than to save his own soul alive? Who would look upon the throngs that shall be gathered on the final day, and see among the redeemed no soul that he had won to serious thoughts and penitent resolves, and among the despairing none known to him on earth upon whom he had tried the utmost efficacy of prayer and counsel? Look at that unrenewed man by your side. He is your brother. Shall he rejoice and sing praises with you through his immortal existence, or among all the saved shall his face nowhere be seen, in all the song shall his voice never be heard! Where then shall he be when you are eternally blessed? Shall he be to you then a lost brother, one separated from you, from hope, from bliss for ever? Think of it now while you stand side by side beneath the bright bow of promise, beneath the smiling heaven of mercy; go not alone up the star-paved steps to the celestial heights, clasp your brother's hand, entreat him, lead him, draw him, with kindly violence compel him to go with you.

Whatever else you are doing for your fellow-men, if you are not exerting yourself for their spiritual good, you are neglecting the chief thing involved in that grand obligation which binds you to love and serve all men as brethren in God's great household.

"THE MINT."

WHERE" the Mint" was situated, in Southwark at which the money of the realm was coined, can now scarcely be identified; but the district has long assumed the name. Of all districts in the Metropolis, it would not be possible to find a worse. The houses have been for years in a very dilapidated state,

and some of the worst characters with which London abounds find a home and lodging-place in "the Mint." The police know it as the rendezvous of thieves, prostitutes, receivers of stolen goods, and the most desperate adventurers. For nearly a century it has maintained the same characteristics. Thomas Cranfield felt his sympathies stirred to this neglected district. He had been an old soldier, in several engagements, and had been promoted to several offices, but leaving the army he returned to England, became converted to God under the ministry of Mr. Romaine, and immediately began to feel for the miseries of his fellow-men. His education was very limited, but being a man of indomitable perseverance, extensive benevolence, good sound sense, and ready to give any amount of labour which duty required, obstacles readily fell before him. Starting forth with a gentleman like-minded, of the name of Beams, on the 16th June, 1799, they opened a Sunday School in Queen Street, Mint, the very heart of Satan's dominions, in a room for which they were to pay £4 per annum. This room was soon found to be too small; another was therefore taken in Peter Street, which also proved inefficient to accommodate the numbers that attended, and another was engaged for the Bible and Testament classes. Some years after this, the next house was taken, and a communication made to it through the party wall; the boys were instructed in the lower, the girls in the upper rooms. These houses being required, at length, for the new road to Southwark Bridge, the school was removed to a house formerly occupied as a tavern, called the Yorkshire Grey in Mint Street; the boys were instructed in the tap-room, parlour, and bar, which were made into one room; and the girls on the first floor. The school here so increased in numbers that the elementary classes had to be taught on the second floor. Here a Ragged School was conducted on the Sabbath evening by Mr. Cranfield; youths of the most depraved character attended.

Mr. Cranfield happily had associated with him a number of good and holy men, who, by their zeal and devotedness laboured in this unpromising field

with unabated zeal and diligence. He was spared to see the most happy results of his labours. Numbers of children were converted to God by his instrumentality; a reformation of manners took place among very many of the parents; boys were provided with situations; infants were taught by him during the week by a novel and beautiful method to attract their attention; the poor of the neighbourhood looked upon him as their father and counsellor; and at the age of eighty-one, on November 28th, 1838, he died full of days, honour, and usefulness.

It would extend this article to an unseemly length, to insert even a few of the pleasant instances of conversion, which arose out of his labours. One only will be given, and we doubt not will interest the reader.

One Sabbath afternoon, a teacher having given an address on the subject of prayer, a little girl retired to her home with her mind very much impressed by what she had heard, and determined that she would begin to pray. She considered what she wanted most, and looking at her dress, thought that she most wanted a new frock and bonnet; she, therefore, knelt down, and prayed that the Lord would enable her to find a guinea to purchase what she most needed. Believing that her prayer would be answered, she went out and walked about the streets, diligently seeking the golden coin; but after searching for some time, she remembered that her teacher had stated in his address, that one thing only was needful, and that was a new heart. She reproached herself with having paid more attention to the outward adorning of her per son than to the inward enriching of her soul.. Prompted by these reflections, she immediately returned home, and in secret besought the Lord that he would create in her a new heart, and put a right spirit within her. This prayer was answered; and at a meeting of the old scholars, held several years afterwards, when she had become a wife and a mother, she related the circumstance for the encouragement of the teachers, and concluded by saying, "I went out to find a new dress, and instead of that found a new heart."

With various successes the school has been continued during a space of fifty-two years. There are at present in prosperous operation, under one roof, an Infant Day School, a Sunday School, a Ragged Evening and Sunday School, and a Penny Bank.

The school-room, which has been many years occupied, has become quite unfit for use, and the teachers have suffered excessive inconvenience by bad drainage, and an unwholesome atmosphere. After many inquiries, a piece of ground has been found, in a very desirable locality, on which to erect schoolrooms for the Mint. Mr. Samuel Gurney has given £50, and various sums are expected from friends who knew Mr. Cranfield, and understand the necessities of the locality.-The Harbinger.

PARENTS' MEETINGS.

Ir is a grateful spectacle to find Christians obeying the injunctions of their Divine Master, and inviting the outcast and the wanderer to partake of that spiritual feast He has so amply provided. Yet all is not done that may be accomplished, and every effort of Christian philanthropy serves only to show how extensive is the field which has to be won. Hence, whenever we see a Ragged School assembled, more especially when the period arrives for the delivery of that fittest of sermons, the address, we are led irresistibly to think of those murky and vice-desolated homes from whence the scholars have issued and to which so many of them will speedily return. Nothing indeed can be more opposite than the squalid abodes of the Ragged Scholar, and that source of physical and spiritual health,-the school. If then the teacher is occasionally wearied by a sense of apparently abortive labour, it is simply because he has forgotten the different life and creeds taught at home and at school-the one teaching by daily example, that sensual pleasure is the chief good; whilst the

other proves by Biblical illustrations that sensuality is sin, and can never be severed from its appropriate punishment. Surely it ought not to be expected as a necessary sequence, that the doctrinal lesson of six hours should be able to counteract the practical lesson of six days. Happily, however, the Holy Ghost has ofttimes diffused His hallowing influences in the Ragged School; and hearts polluted with vice, and consciences seared by long-indulged sin, are found melting under the story of the Cross, and the unutterable love of the truest Friend of man that ever trod this earth.

An inquiry is thus forced upon our attention-Can the admirable machinery of the Ragged School be deemed perfect, unless an attempt be made to reach the hearts of the parents, more especially those mothers upon whom the formation of character principally devolves? And this suggests a further question-May not the school be employed as a means of letting the parents know that there is such a thing as guilt, and its appropriate punishment; and that adequate provision has been made for its expiation? The mere fact that they permit the attendance of their children, whatever be the impelling motive, implies that they can trace some benefit as accruing therefrom, to themselves or their offspring. One lesson they have at least acquired by experience, that a good Ragged Scholar can never be a bad son; and that he who earnestly seeks after God, thereby transforms the meanest hovel into a Bethel. A powerful lever is thus gained, whereby to move the better affections, for love is ever the surest winner of love. But ought this great experiment to win the fallen, here to terminate? Surely not, unless the parents are, unlike their children, men and women that need no Christ. But not only do we assert, but from many a bitter reminiscence they know, that they are sin-stained, if not profligate, and nothing but the exceeding mercy of God can withhold the vengeance which impends. Hence the necessity that some one should point them to that fount, wherein Manassch and Mary Magdalene bathed, and were for ever cleansed from all defilement.

In thus indicating the need of regard being had to the spiritual interests of parents of the Ragged Scholar, it is not for a moment hinted that the school should be turned from its original purpose, namely, to rescue youth from the dominion of sin, or better, to preclude their falling into the snare. Fatal to the great object of such institutions would be any scheme which should tend to interfere with the ordinary operations of the school. All we affirm is this, that while the rescue of youth is the primary object of the Ragged School, and ought to be pursued with affectionate earnestness, the parents the teachers of six days-cannot be neglected without perilling the object for which the school was established.

Many means of meeting the requirements of this class might be suggestedsuch, for example, as Parents' Bible Classes-but one method only, the practicability of which is obvious, need be now suggested. Let the parents

be invited to meet the teachers and active friends at the school-room, at regular recurring intervals, for free converse. Each teacher would thereby become personally acquainted with the parents of his charge, and would doubtless by the expressions of real, and not patronizing good-will, readily find access to their houses as well as to their hearts. Several friends-those who had the gift of saying most in the shortest space being selected-might afterwards deliver brief addresses on the duties and responsibility of the parental relation; and that greatest of all questions should be pressed home to the conscience-If the archangel sounded the trump of doom this night, where would thy soul be? Such addresses should be most earnest in manner, and aimed direct at the heart. While so brief as to preclude those wanderings of the imagination of which even the most disciplined minds complain, they should be as comprehensive as the sermon delivered by the Model Preacher on Mars Hill. Such preaching as this would at least prevent the intrusion of one defect, namely, talking down to those assembled; for experience fully testifies that, with simple diction and an earnest spirit, the loftiest thoughts are not above the comprehension of the humblest. Each address should be