"Capital! they left it rich men," answered Smith, looking somewhat surprised at the sudden change of subject; "they were very industrious men, Mr Kent. They gave themselves to their work." "I suppose you expect to do as well." "Well, I don't know but you are right about the matter," Smith began again, "I don't know but you are;" feeling at the same time that the conclusions put him under a harrow; "but "-he again stopped. "What! do you mean that the usefulness of Sabbath "I see no earthly reason why I should not. My schools depends upon "--and he paused. prospects, Mr Kent, I consider first rate." "Your success, I suppose, depends in some measure upon your master workmen and his journeymen," remarked Kent. "Exactly so. Wright and Cole made it a point to employ none but the best workmen. Every screw that came out of that factory was a first-rate article. Their orders were all promptly attended to. Nobody ever found them behind hand." "People under those circumstances will generally succeed," said Kent. "So I say, Mr Kent, people will succeed, there is no mistake about it, and I calculate to conduct this business pretty much as they did." "And if you do, you calculate it will nett you as good a profit, I suppose?" "I have no reason to doubt it. There are some excellent workmen in the establishment," said Smith, with great animation. "In fact, I mean it shall. Others have succeeded, why should not I? I've had ill luck in times past, it is true; but I mean to bring all my energies to bear here, and it can't fail "I have no doubt you look at the thing as it ought to be looked at, in order to success," said his companion. Here Mr Smith stroked his whiskers with a commendatory gleam upon his face. He respected Mr Kent's opinions, and was happy to find them coinciding with his own. He felt thankful too, that the current of the conversation had been changed; for Anderson's remark was rankling in his conscience, and he felt himself more at home on business. 66 And," ," continued Mr Kent, after a brief pause, "Mr Smith, perhaps you have no more right to question the usefulness of Sabbath-schools until you have fairly applied, and honestly carried out, the same course of reasoning and of practice to them which you do to your business; until you do so, there certainly can be little prospect of doing much good. A common-sense view of the whole matter is, that in order to make any organization accomplish its proposed results, no matter whether it be a manufactory or a Sabbath-school, there must be efficient workmen. Inattention, lazy, unfaithful or indifferent workmen, are enough to prostrate the energies and ruin the credit of any establishment." "Are you coming to that?" said Smith, hardly knowing whether to be amiable or angry. Yet there was a kindly frankness in the speaker, which seldom offended even when his words cut deepest. "Upon the promptness, fidelity, and prayer, with which you, and I, and every other individual teacher undertake their duties," added Kent earnestly. "That is certainly coming to the point," said Smith. "What do you think a teacher ought to do?" "Qualify himself to be a teacher. He ought to know where the lesson is, and to study it, and to pray over it. He is bound to be as constant and punctual to his class as the minister to his pulpit, and if he' cannot come, supply a substitute. He should suffer no small hindrance to keep him from the teachers' meetings, if there are any; and if there are not, there ought to be. In a word, he should enter upon the work with the diligence and determination of one resolved to succeed." "Are there many such teachers?" asked Smith slowly, and with a nod of doubt. "I hope so-yes, I believe there are." Smith looked incredulous. "Are you not making it too worldly a matter? It is the Lord's work, and he can bless the feeblest means. The race is not always to the swift, you know." "But the universal principle of action in all our own concerns is, that the race is to the swift; or, in other words, that he who resolutely tries, usually succeeds. We believe it, and act upon it every day. It is only when we begin to labour directly in God's service that we show a slackness and inattention, which we should feel to be unpardonable in our own business. Do not many adopt in the Sabbath-school a lame and lazy mode of doing things, which would for ever ruin their credit in any other cause; and excuse themselves in the belief that some way or other, without exactly knowing how or why, God will own and bless such efforts in the church, which we are very sure he never would out of it. Is not this so, and can it be right? Do not the Scriptures every where inculcate diligence, earnestness, and a full purpose of heart, in the work our Lord has given his disciples to do ?" Mr Smith listened. He could not but listen, for it all came upon him unawares. Had the preacher uttered it from the pulpit, he would probably have been composed for a nap, or his mind might have wandered, consciously or unconsciously, to his ledger; but he was now caught with the speaker's eye full upon him, and listen he must. He heard every word, and what was better, or worse, according as Mr Smith viewed it, his conscience accorded with all that had been uttered. "Yes-but," he tried to begin, but the assent and "Am I not right?" asked Kent. "You are a fair the excuse seemed to die away in his throat. man and understand these things." "Right!" cried he evasively," right? about what? that the diligent hand maketh rich? Yes, you are right about that, no doubt; it's Scripture." Kent said nothing, and there was an uncomfortable pause. "Well! but-what's to be done? Speaking about Sabbath-schools, can't they somehow be differently organized? What are the best methods to be used?" It must be confessed, he did not exactly know what he said, nor had these questions ever perplexed or deeply interested his mind. WILLING TO DIE. "It is yet to be shown that they need organizing," answered Kent. "So far as their external organization goes, it is all well, I believe. There may be differences in the modes of teaching, some preferring one question-book, some another, and some none at all; some adopting tickets, some the catechism, some both. They are all good, but I think it would be difficult to show that any one of them should be universally adopted above the others. The main thing is, to get a teacher intelligently, prayerfully, and with his whole soul, interested in the work. That would at once settle many irksome questions and disputed points." Did it not then flash upon Mr Smith's memory, how hard he once tried to resist a vote to hold at a certain hour the sessions of the Sabbath-school with which he was then connected; how provoked he felt at the adoption of the resolution, and how reluctantly he dragged himself to school in consequence of it; and all because he was thereby called upon to sacri'fice his comfortable after-dinner Sunday nap! Ah! a heart in the work would never have suffered this. A fretted and reluctant mind is not the mind for healthy, hearty work. As friction in machinery essentially impairs its power, so must an unwilling spirit diminish, if it does not destroy, the moral force of the best act. And does not this unwillingness to take hold, this want of heart, this spirit of self-indulgence, weaken our confidence in religious organizations, and cloud our hopes, both for ourselves and others, with sinful unbelief? We neither know where we are, nor what to do. 237 "Yes, there is abundant testimony that they have done, and still do, untold good," exclaimed Kent energetically. "When," he added with deep seriousness," there are faithful teachers, God blesses the work." He then selected many interesting cases which had come within the range of his own observation and experience. His companion's ear was gained. He listened with genuine interest, and when Mr Kent ceased, he could have heard a great deal more with deep attention. "I have no doubt of it," he at length responded seriously, "I have no doubt of it, although it reflects awfully upon some of us." "It certainly does," added Kent, no way disposed to smoothe away the sober impression seemingly made upon Mr Smith's mind. "Well, my dear sir, what is to be done?" The same question had been asked before, but in a very different tone; Mr Smith evidently meant the question. He even repeated it in a more definite form. "What can I do? I confess I do not feel all the interest which you justly say a Sabbathschool teacher ought to feel, and which, if he does' he must needs do good. But the fact is, Mr Kent, I do not feel that interest. My heart is not in the work. Now tell me what shall I do?" All selfcomplacency had faded from the speaker's face. He looked serious and ill at ease. "What can I do, Mr Kent?" he repeated. "My dear sir," answered Mr Kent, with unaffected solemnity of manner, "if you do not like the Lord's service, you must go and tell Him so, not me. "What is to be done in this sad state of things ?" It is a concern to be settled with him; if not now, it some may ask. "Lag no longer. Go to the work with your whole heart, and all difficulties will vanish," the ardent worker himself will answer. Alas! Is it not to be feared there is another dif ficulty far back of all these? Whence this reluctant heart and love of ease? Is it not to be found in the worldliness which pervades the churches? in the half-way piety with which the Lord's people are content to live! Do not Christ's followers concede too much to what the tempter calls the demands of society upon their modes of living, their entertainments, the training of their children? In a word, do they not yield to those demands in almost every thing, in spite of their daily prayers and better judgment, until at length they so far depart from Christian purpose and simplicity, that they have but a name to live, the body without the soul, the tree without the root, the world without the sun. Who can serve God and mammon? To return to the counting-room. It was several moments before Mr Smith recovered from the reminiscence which flashed across his mind, making good the opinions of his companion. "I suppose so," he at last said, either in reference to his inward inspections, or in the way of a general assent to all that had been uttered, it did not seem clear which. suppose so," arousing himself as from a painful reverie; "I do not doubt but Sabbath-schools have done, and do still, do good." He spoke slowly and then stopped. “I will be at the day of reckoning, which must soon come." Does Mr Smith stand alone ?-New York Observer. WILLING TO DIE. MUCH stress is often laid on this, more, probably, than is suitable. With many persons, it seems to be almost a matter of no account what the past life has been, if the dying friend is "resigned," and willing to die. Undoubtedly it is a Christian duty to have this feeling. With regard to this, as with every event of our being, we should choose that God's own will should be done. It becomes us to submit the time, the manner, and the circumstances of our dying, as of all things, to him whose right it is to arrange and control all. But a person may be willing to die without having the least regard to God's will, or for therefore prepared to die? In many instances, perhis salvation. Every suicide is willing to die. Is he sons are in such extreme bodily pain, that they are anxious to have death take them away. Many are so drugged that they are perfectly insensible to their situation, and care not whether they die or live. Some are left to "believe a lie," with regard to their religious character and prospects; and, thinking that all will go well with them hereafter, are willing to die. Others are so harassed with cares, vexations, disappointments, losses, and mortifying events in their lives, that they long to be rid of life, and would almost covet annihilation. Does it follow, then, that because these different classes of individuals are willing to die, that they are prepared for heaven? It would be much more satisfactory to see them willing suitably to live. A manifest willingness to continue all of our appointed time here, and do all of our appointed work, and glorify our heavenly Father by holy living, and do, or enjoy, or suffer all his righteous will, is far better evidence of suitable preparation for death, than merely to be willing to die. We would by no means say that it is always wrong to desire death. Perhaps Elijah was not wrong in praying "O Lord, take away my life;" nor was it sinful for Paul to have a desire" to depart and be with Christ." It is not sinful to be weary of toils, cares, trials, sorrows, and pains, and to look with desire for the best time to be released from all. It surely is not sinful to groan when we are oppressed by the body of sin and death, and to sigh for deliverance. It cannot be wrong to meditate on the infinite glories which "eye hath not seen," and wait with strong desire; if we also wait with submission for the gracious words, "enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." But Christ's kingdom must come on earth, as well as in heaven. It must come in the hearts of multitudes who are yet servants of Satan, and therefore enemies of Christ. Here is work for us. Are we willing to remain and labour for him who died for us ? If we may, by divine grace, turn one soul to righteousness, will not that more than compensate for many years of prayer and labour? Should we desire to die having done so little? The kingdom of Christ must be fully established in our hearts. Is it so already? Are there no enemies there to be subdued? Has your will no struggles against the Divine will? Are not the very trials which weary and oppress the heart, a part of the needful discipline which is designed to prepare us for the kingdom above? If we desire to go to heaven to serve and glorify God, we should not the less be willing to serve and glorify him here. He knows where it is best that we should be, and is best for us to be, do, or enjoy.-N. Y. Evangelist. "TRIFLES." THE principle involved in the maxim of Franklin, "Take care of the pence, and the pounds will take care of themselves," is universally just, and susceptible of quite other applications than the philosopher gave it. As applied to literary pursuits, for example, it might be rendered: "Take care of each point of inquiry as you successively reach it, and the resources of the whole will erelong have been mastered;" or as applied to one's business in the world, mercantile, professional, or other: "Accomplish carefully each duty as it meets you, without waiting for opportunities for conspicuous exertions, and your entire lifeplan will at last have been accomplished;" or as applied to the daily domestic and Christian life, it might read thus: "Attend to the 'trifles,' and see that they are what they should be, and the sum of your life will take care of itself." It is these Trifles which make the life, "as moments make the year." Slight in themselves, in their accumulation and aggregate they constitute by far the larger part of that which memory reverts to as she reviews the Past. They affect others even more constantly and intimately than do things which seem more important; and they express more clearly, and so in their reciprocal influence modify more influentially, the character of their performer. They are the small stones, by the silent addition of which each to the other in the masonry of our daily activities, the Temple of our Life is gradually reared; and of that temple the most important part is not the fine façade or the few lofty columns that stand in front, but the encircling walls and the unseen foundations. These Trifles are the familiar voices that daily and hourly fill the ear. If they be musical and sweet we shall care little though we even lose now and then the more studied expression of artistic excellence; but if we want in our social atmosphere this genial and continuous harmony, we cannot be compensated for it by any occasional conspicuous displays. A "Trifle," too, has sometimes an intrinsic importance which is hardly imagined. As a slight dust-grain in the eye will cause inflammation and pain, and, except as removed, may destroy the eye. so a harsh word hastily spoken, a momentary carelessness of another's kindness, a wounding reproof, or a sharp jesu, which springs from the lips almost thoughtlessly, may cause permanent though silent sorrow in a heart whose affections are quick and sensitive, and so are more precious in their continuance and more liable to be wounded. And by a succession of such "Trifles" bitterness may be made to take the place of affection, and a life that should have been as a golden tissue may be shaded thickly by dark-grained griefs. While on the other hand, as the drop of oil relieves the friction upon the worn surface, as the point of light in the eye of the portrait illustrates all the features, so the kind word cheerfully spoken, the slight act of thoughtful and attentive affection, the cheering recognition of the effort or the anxiety that have been wearing the system, and the affectionate assurance of sympathy and remembrance, will often relieve a long day's gloom, and give freedom and pleasantness to the movements of a household. True politeness has therefore been well defined "Benevolence in trifles; " and he who will see to it that in the trivial details of life he manifests a kindly and Christian spirit, while he will never lack opportunity for the more visible acts of exertion and selfsacrifice, may be assured that the whole fabric of his life will grow to be what he would have it; that his own character will rapidly become more beautiful and noble, and that his influences on others, distilling as the dew and falling as the light, will be as refreshing and gladdening as they. THE BIBLE FOR CHILDREN. IT is thought by some that the Bible is above the capacity of young children, and that books of a simple character, presenting perhaps the narratives and instructions of the Bible in plainer language, should be substituted for it until the mind of the child has these books are admirable for the purpose of conveybeen tolerably well developed by study. Some of ing religious instruction to very young minds; and when used not as a substitute for the study of the Scriptures, but as auxiliary thereto, explaining the meaning of Scripture language, and the historical and local allusions of the Bible, are greatly to be commended. But they should never be permitted to keep the Bible out of view, nor by constant association to acquire an interest which does not pertain to the simple word of God. There are many books for children which have in them little of Scripture narrative or of Scripture truth in any form, and which dilute that truth, so that, instead of being milk for babes, it resembles rather those simple teas of herbs which serve to quiet a restless stomach in the absence of its proper nourishment. A child fed only with such productions is stinted in its moral growth; it should have "the pure milk of the word." Admirable as many stories for children are, any one who has made the experiment must have observed how far superior to those of human composition NEVER CROSS A BRIDGE TILL YOU COME TO IT. are the stories of the Bible, told in the language of the Bible, with such explanations only as may serve here and there to fix in the memory the meaning of a word. Take the account of the creation, and of the temptation and the fall of man, of the deluge, the ark and the rainbow, the story of Abraham offering up his son Isaac, the story of Joseph, of the birth of Moses, of the deliverance of the Israelites from Egypt, of the appearance of Jehovah on Sinai, the story of Samuel, of David and Goliath-in a word, the entire historical part of the Old Testament; take the account of the birth and of the crucifixion of the Saviour, or one of his parables, or the simple record of a miracle like the raising of Jairus' daughter, and of the widow's son at Nain, and read it to a child of ordinary intelligence, from two to five years old, and you will find that nothing which your own imagination can invent, and nothing which the invention of others has supplied, is so fascinating as a Bible story in Bible language, with such explanation and practical improvement as the circumstances may suggest to your own mind. It is one of the most wonderful features of the Bible that it is adapted to every period of life, and to every grade of intellect. The child and the philosopher may alike slake their thirst together at its crystal fountains, and may partake with equal delight of its golden fruits. In the religious instruction of children we should make the Bible the groundwork: it is adapted as a first book to the infant mind. THE IRISH LAD AND THE PRIEST. 239 this blessed cross (taking one from his breast) that you will not give my money to such an infernal purpose." So saying, and with a furious imprecation, he sprang off the saddle. It was truly a wild and painful scene! There stood the weeping boy and the man! the boy so bewildered as to forget restoring the coin; the priest so frenzied with religious ardour as to forget he was before a child. There they stood, for a moment only. The savage man had an Irish heart; the tears of childhood fell upon that breast and melted it to softness. The priest remounted his horse and bade the last adieu for ever. The priest's curse fell where it was uttered. The arrow touched not the Society, for the breath of God's blessing wafted it aside. The priest has since been gathered to them that sleep. He died a penitent. O may he awake to glory! But what of the boy? Some kind voice here may ask-"What of the boy?" He lives, my friends; he lives to muse full oft on that eventful scene. He lives to pray for the Society he much loved then, and loves much now. He lives to thank England's people for their zeal in that Society's behalf, and to urge them to continue in the noble work of giving Irishmen the Bible-of giving children their Father's will in a copy they can understand-of giving the bondmen of Rome the Magna Charta of Protestant liberty. Full of gratitude for the past, and full of hopes for the future, it is he who now addresses you. NEVER CROSS A BRIDGE TILL YOU COME TO IT. "Never cross a bridge until you come to it!" was The boy was taking a walk, when a father-confessor of an adjoining parish met him; and when he had spoken awhile with him he said, "You're a smart lad, you young heretic! Do you know, I'd eat meat nine Fridays running to coax you into Maynooth ? " “Would you?" replied the youngster; "I'd do more; I'd fast every Friday of my life to coax Maynooth into the Shannon." The priest was surprised at this sally. He spoke with the lad some minutes longer, and, when going off, he presented him with a halfcrown, saying, he gave because the other was "the very picture of his poor, dear, departed grand-conical hills, which seem to surround him as he admother!". The boy took the half-crown, and said, he would put it into his papa's collection-box for the Irish Society. This enraged the priest. The face of the holy father, proceeded Mr Seymour, blazed, an anathema of pious vengeance burst from his lips :-"My curse the Virgin's curse-the curse of Peter and Paul -the curse of the church and martyrs be upon that Society!" he shouted; "may a blight and a blast be upon it! It took from me the best Catholic in my parish to be a Scripture-reader last week, and he'll steal them all from me before this time twelve months. So, you young reprobate, you're going to abuse my kindness this way! You'll not take your life and your half-crown together from this till you swear on vances, and forbid further progress. He can see but a short distance along his winding road; it seems as if his journry must stop abruptly at the base of these barriers. He begins to think of turning back his passable barriers. But let him advance, and he finds horse, to escape from hopeless inclosure among im that the road curves around the frowning hill before him, and leads him into other and still other straits, from which he finds escape simply by advancing. Every new discovery of a passage around the obstructions of his path teaches him to hope in the practicability of his road. He cannot see far ahead at any time; but a passage discovers itself as he advances. He is neither required to turn back, nor to scale the steep sides of towering hills. His road winds along, preserving for miles almost an exact level. He finds that nothing is gained by crossing a bridge before he comes to it! Such is often the journey of life. How much of its toilsome ruggedness would be relieved by careful attention to the above admonition! Never cross a bridge until you come to it! Or, to express the same counsel in another form, "Be careful of nothing; but in every thing, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God, and the peace of God, 'which passeth all understanding,' shall keep (garrison) your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."Independent. FULLER AND HIS CHURCH REWARDED. "THERE was a period of my ministry," said this devoted man to a friend, " marked by the most pointed systematic effort to comfort my serious people; but the more I tried to comfort them the more they complained of doubts and darkness. Wherever I went among them, one lamentation met my ear, Ah! sir, I can get no comfort. I am unable to appropriate any of the great and precious promises to myself; I looked for light and behold darkness.' I knew not what to do, nor what to think, for I had done my best to comfort the mourners in Zion. I was therefore at my wit's end. At this time it pleased God to direct my attention to the claims of the perishing heathen in India; I felt that we had been living for ourselves, and not caring for their souls. I spoke as I felt. My serious people wondered and wept over their past inattention to this subject. They began to talk about a Baptist mission. The females especially began to collect money for the spread of the gospel. We met and prayed for the heathen, met and considered what could be done amongst ourselves for them, met and did what we could. And, whilst all this was going on, the lamentations ceased. The sad became cheerful, and the desponding calm. No one complained of a want of comfort. And I, instead of having to study how to comfort my flock, was myself comforted by them. They were drawn out of themselves. Sir, that was the real secret. God blessed them while they tried to be a blessing." REJOICE ALWAY. A GLOOMY Christian! Is such a thing possible ?is it ever true? Unhappily, we must say that there are some gloomy Christians. But is it Christianity that makes them gloomy? No, no. It is not their religion that makes them sad; it is the want of religion. If any one should be happy and cheerful, it is the Christian. For is he not a son of God, a joint heir with Christ to an heavenly inheritance? Is not Christ his elder brother, shepherd, and Saviour? Surely there is no sadness in any of these things. Then why, when the prospect is so glorious, be depressed, as if there was not a Sun of Righteousness? Fellow-Christian, when you pass your life sad and downcast, do you know what your depression implies? It implies doubt and unbelief-doubting of God's goodness and his ability and willingness to save; disbelief of his promise to save to the uttermost all who come unto him. Gloomy Christian, you are very guilty. Does your religion make you gloomy? Be assured, then, that yours is not the religion of the gospel; it is some thing else wholly different. Peace in believing, and joy in the Holy Ghost, is what true religion brings. If you are sad, Christian, sin is the cause of your sadness. If there is a load on your conscience, it is sin. If there is a cloud between you and the mercyseat, sin has raised it. Then fellow-Christian, delay not, but find out the sin, and have it washed away in that fountain opened for just such a sinner as you are, so that you may joy and rejoice in the God of your salvation.-Christian Observer. THE WORLD'S ENMITY. FROM my very childhood, when I was first sensible of the concernments of men's souls, I was possessed religious, godly sort of people, who did but exercise with some admiration, to find that every where the a serious care of their own and other men's salvation, were made the wonder and obloquy of the world, especially of the most vicious and flagitious men ; so that they that professed the same articles of faith, and the same petitions of the Lord's prayer to be the same commandments of God to be their law, their desire, and so professed the same religion, and every where revile those that endeavoured to live in good earnest in what they said. I thought this was impudent hypocrisy in the ungodly, worldly sort of men-to take those for the most intolerable persons in the land who are but serious in their own religion, and do but endeavour to perform what all their enemies also vow and promise. If religion be bad, and our faith be not true, why do these men profess it? If it be true and good, why do they hate and revile them that would live in the serious practice of it, if they will not practise it themselves? But we must not expect reason when sin and sensuality have made men unreasonable. But I must profess that, since I observed the course of the world, and the concord of the word and providence of God, I took it for a notable proof of man's fall, and of the truth of the Scripture, and of the supernatural original of true sanctification, to find such an universal enmity between the holy and the serpentine seed, and to find Cain and Abel's case so ordinarily exemplified, and he that is born after the flesh persecuting him that is born after the Spirit. And methinks to this day it is a great and visible help for the confirmation of our Christian faith.-Baxter. THE LONELY COTTAGER. A PIOUS Cottager, residing in the centre of a long and dreary heath, being asked by a Christian visitor, "Are you not sometimes afraid in your lonely situation, especially in winter?" replied, "O no, sir, for faith shuts the door at night, and mercy opens it in the morning." Cottagers, what are your feelings on retiring to rest, and as you arise in the morning? Do they afford similar confidence to this poor believer, and with her do you also say "I lay my body down to rest, And if so, you will surely exclaim, "Godliness is profitable unto all things, having the promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come." |