In that walk, as I said, the sky was gloomy, and brambles straggled across my path; but since then I have passed through darker seasons, and along pathways more rugged and briery. Troubles have awaited me, not more than were necessary for my good, nor heavier than God has given me strength to bear; but still they were troubles, and had I not been taught by a heavenly Instructor, that "affliction cometh not forth from the dust, neither doth trouble spring out of the ground" (Job v. 6), how could I have sustained them? In the darkest seasons, however, I have been led to look upwards, even to the hills, "from whence cometh my help," and have been mercifully enabled to say, "The day will break by and by!"

And how, reader, has it been with you? Have you peacefully walked in "green pastures," and "beside the still waters;" or has a rude, a rough, and a weary road been appointed you? Have sunbeams lit up your path, or have shadows, deep shadows, surrounded you? But "man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward;" and therefore I may conclude that you have had your share; nay, it may be, that even now your feet are among the briers, and that darkness, thick darkness, overshadows your path. Can you listen, then, to the voice of consolation? Can you receive a word of encouragement? If your eyes and your hope are fixed on the earth, no wonder that you see nothing but gloom; but if you are really looking upwards to the skies, take courage; your night of darkness may have been a long one, yet "the day will break by and by."

They who love God are loved by him, and will be brought by him out of darkness into marvellous light. When the Egyptians were encompassed with "a darkness that might be felt," God's chosen people, the Israelites, "had light in their dwellings "(Exod. x. 23). Jesus loved Lazarus; and though the shadows and darkness of death and the grave fell upon him, yet did the Saviour scatter the darkness, and redeem him from the power of the grave. Fear not, then, whatever be the shadows around you; for if you love the Lord of glory it will be well with you. "The day will break by and by."

Do you fear poverty? "Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich."-(2 Cor. viii. 9.) Do you fear sickness? He is the great Physician, and can cure all diseases both of body and soul. Do you fear death? "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."-(John iii. 16.) Be of good cheer, the day-spring from on high has visited us. The Saviour has come into the world, and will again appear in glory; and to all that love his appearing, sins and sorrows, and clouds and

be turned into joy, for "the day will break by and by." Trust, then, in the Lord, "until the day break, and the shadows flee away."-(Sol. Song ii. 17; iv. 6.) -Old Humphrey.

For the spring of delight, and the sunshine of peace? Shall I praise thee for flowers that bloom'd in my breast?

For joys in perspective and pleasures possess'd?
For the spirits that heighten'd my days of delight?
And the slumbers that sat on my pillow by night?

For this would I praise thee; but if only for this,
I should leave half untold the donation of bliss:

I thank thee for sickness, for sorrow, for care,
For the thorns I have gather'd, the anguish I bear;
For nights of anxieties, watchings, and tears;
A present of pain, a perspective of fears;
I praise thee, I bless thee, my King and my God,
For the good and the evil thy hand hath bestow'd.
The flowers were sweet, but their fragrance is flown;
They yielded no fruits, they are wither'd and gone.
The thorn it was poignant, but precious to me;
'Twas the message of mercy, it led me to Thee.

THE REV. DR ARNOLD.

THE REV. T. Arnold, D.D., was, in 1842, head master of Rugby school, and the recently appointed regius professor of history in the university of Oxford. His mind was of a most powerful cast; his love for true religion, amidst some peculiarities, of the highest opinions bearing the name of Tractarian, unremitting order; his opposition, privately and publicly, to all and uncompromising. Placed as the instructor of a public school, which furnished many members annually to the English universities, Dr Arnold's post was one of great influence, and he employed that ritual good of his individual pupils, and for the proinfluence with the most happy results for the spimotion of spiritual religion in society at large. He had scarcely entered on his professorship at Oxford, when death summoned him to higher services for God.

In Dr Arnold's family there was an hereditary predisposition to angina pectoris. His father had died suddenly of spasm of the heart; and the event left a deep impression on Dr Arnold's mind. "Shall I tell you, my little boy," he said to one of his younger children, who was bursting forth with joy || at the expectation of the holidays which were then just coming on-" shall I tell you why I call it sad?” and he then told him how suddenly he had been himself left an orphan, and how his father had, on the Sunday evening before his death, caused him to read a sermon on the text," Boast not thyself of to

morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." "Now," said he, "cannot you see, when you talk with such certainty about this day week, and what we shall do, why it seems sad to me?" 66 It is one of the most solemn things I do," said he (referring to his habit of writing in his manuscript volume of sermons the date of its commencement, and not that of its completion), "to write the beginning of that sentence, and think that I may not live to finish it."

The approach of his forty-seventh birthday seemed to be looked upon by Dr Arnold with feelings of special solemnity; and there was visibly marked upon his whole manner and bearing the effect of some deep impression. Some passages from his diary, given in his most valuable life, will illustrate the posture of his mind :

"June 2. Again the day is over, and I am going to rest. O Lord! preserve me this night, and strengthen me to bear whatever thou shalt see fit to lay on me, whether pain, sickness, danger, or distress.

"June 5. I have been just looking over a newspaper, one of the most painful and solemn studies in the world if it be read thoughtfully. So much of sin and so much of suffering in the world, as are there displayed, and no one seems able to remedy either. And then the thought of my own private life, so full of comforts, is very startling; when I contrast it with the lot of millions, whose portion is so full of distress or trouble. May I be kept humble and jealous, and may God give me grace to labour in my generation for the good of my brethren, and for His glory! May he keep me His by night and by day, and strengthen me to bear and do his will, through Jesus Christ!

"Juno 6. I have felt better and stronger all this day, and I thank God for it. But may he keep my heart tender! May he keep me gentle and patient, yet active and jealous; may he bless me in himself and in his Son! May he make me humble-minded in this, that I do not look for good things as my portion here, but rather should look for troubles as what I deserve, and as what Christ's people are to bear! If ye be without chastisement,' etc. How much of good have I received at God's hand, and shall I not receive evil? Only, O Lord! strengthen me to bear it, whether it visit me in body, in mind, or in estate. Strengthen me with the grace thou didst vouchsafe to thy martyrs; and let me not fall from thee in any trial. O Lord! let me cherish a sober mind, to be ready to bear events, and not sullenly. O Lord! reveal to me thyself in Christ Jesus, which knowledge will make all suffering and all trials easy. O Lord! bless my dearest wife, and strengthen us in the hardest of all trials-evil befalling each other. Bless our dear children, and give me grace to guide them wisely and lovingly through Jesus Christ. O Lord! may I join with all thy people in heaven and on earth, in offering up my prayer to thee through our Lord Jesus Christ; and in saying, 'Glory be to thy most holy name for ever and ever!""

Before the departure of the Rugby boys for the holidays, Dr Arnold preached, on the 5th of June, the farewell sermon, which concluded the course on "the things necessary to be borne in mind by his scholars, wherever they might be scattered in after life." "The real point which concerns us all," he said in that sermon, "is not whether one sin be of one kind or of another, more or less venial, or more or less mischievous in man's judgment, and to our worldly interests; but whether we struggle against all sin, because it is sin-whether we have not placed ourselves consciously under the banner of our Lord Jesus Christ, trusting in him, cleaving to him, feeding on him by faith daily, and so resolved, and con

247

tinually renewing our resolution, to be his faithful soldiers and servants to our life's end." The last subject given to his pupils for an exercise was "Domus ultima" (the last house); the last translation for Latin verses, Spenser's verses on the death of Sydney; and the last words in his lecture on the New Testament, "It doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that when He shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.' He observed with solemnity, that "the mere contemplation of Christ shall transform us into his like

ness."

Much of this seemed premonitory. The words of his biographer may describe the rest:-"In the evening, he took a short stroll, as usual, on the lawn in the further garden, with his friend and former pupil, from whom the account of these last few days has been chiefly derived. His conversation with him turned on some points in the Oxford theology, in regard to which he thought him in error; particularly he dwelt seriously, but kindly, on what he conceived to be false notions of the eucharist, insisting especially that our Lord forbids us to suppose that the highest spiritual blessings can be conferred only or chiefly through the reception of material elements; urging with great earnestness, when it was said that there might be various modes of spiritual agency, My dear lad, God be praised, we are told the great mode by which we are affected-we have his own blessed assurance-"The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and they are life."'

"At nine o'clock was a supper, which, on the last evening of the summer half-year, he gave to the sixth-form boys of his own house; and they were struck with the cheerfulness and liveliness of his manner, talking of the end of the half-year, and the pleasure of his returning to Fox-how in the next week; and observing, in allusion to the departure of so many of the boys, How strange the chapel will look to-morrow!'

"The school business was now completely over. The old school-house servant, who had been about the place many years, came to receive the final accounts, and delighted afterwards to tell how his master had kept him a quarter of an hour, talking to him with more than usual kindness and confidence.

"It was between five and six o'clock on Sunday morning that he awoke with a sharp pain across his chest, which he mentioned to his wife, on her asking whether he felt well, adding, that he had felt it slightly on the preceding day, before and after bathing. He then again composed himself to sleep, but her watchful care, always anxious even to nervousness, at the least indication of illness, was at once awakened; and, on finding from him that the pain increased, and that it seemed to pass from his chest to his left arm, her alarm was so much roused, from a remembrance of having heard of this in connection with angina pectoris, and its fatal consequences, that, in spite of his remonstrances, she rose and called up an old servant, whom they usually consulted in cases of illness, from her having so long attended the sick-bed of his sister Susannah. Reassured by her confidence, that there was no ground for fear, but still anxious, Mrs Arnold returned to

his room.

She observed him, as she was dressing herself, lying still, but with his hands clasped, his lips moving, and his eyes raised upwards, as if engaged in prayer, when all at once he repeated, firmly and earnestly, And Jesus said unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen, thou hast believed; blessed are they which have not seen, and yet have believed;' and soon afterwards, with a solemnity of manner, and depth of utterance, which spoke more than the

words themselves, 'But if ye be without chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and not sons." From time to time he seemed to be in severe suffering, and, on the entrance of the old servant before mentioned, said, 'Ah, Elizabeth! if I had been as much accustomed to bear pain as dear Susannah was, I should bear it better.' To his wife, however, he uttered no expressions of acute pain, dwelling only on the moments of comparative ease, and observing that he did not know what it was. But the more than usual earnestness which marked his tone and manner, especially in repeating the verses from Scripture, had again aroused her worst fears, and she ordered messengers to be sent for medical assistance, which he had at first requested her not to do, from not liking to disturb at that hour the usual medical attendant, who had been suffering from indisposition. She then took up the Prayer-book, and was looking for a psalm to read to him, when he said quickly, The fifty-first,' which she accordingly read by his bedside, reminding him at the seventh verse, that it was the favourite verse of one of the old almswomen whom he was in the habit of visiting; and, at the twelfth verse, 'O give me the comfort of thy help again, and stablish me with thy free spirit,' he repeated it after her very earnestly. She then read the prayer in the Visitation of the Sick, beginning, The almighty Lord, who is a most strong tower,' etc., kneeling herself at the foot of the bed, and altering it into a common prayer for them both.

"On the entrance of the medical visitor, Dr Arnold described his pain, which was ascertained to be spasm of the heart. The physician then quitted the house for medicine, leaving Mrs Arnold now fully aware from him of her husband's state. At this moment she was joined by her son, who entered the room with no serious apprehension; and on his coming up to the bed, his father, with his usual gladness of expression towards him, asked, How is your deafness, iny boy?' (he had been suffering from it the night before), and then, playfully alluding to an old accusation against him, you must not stay here; you know you do not like a sick room.' He then sat down with his mother at the foot of the bed, and presently his father said in a low voice, 'My son, thank God for me;' and as his son did not at once catch his meaning, he went on, saying Thank God, Tom, for giving me this pain. I suffered so little pain in my life, that I feel it is very good for me; now God has given it to me, and I do so thank him for it;' and again, after a pause, he said, alluding to a wish which his son had often heard him express, that if he ever had to suffer pain, his faculties might be unaffected by it, 'How thankful I am that my head is untouched! Meanwhile his wife, who still had sounding in her ears the tone in which he had repeated the passage from the Epistle to the Hebrews, again turned to the Prayer-book and began to read the exhortation in which it occurs in the Visitation of the Sick. He listened with deep attention, saying emphatically, 'Yes,' at the end of many of the sentences. There should be no greater comfort to Christian persons than to be made like unto Christ. Yes." He entered not into his glory before he was crucified.' 'Yes.' At the words ' everlasting life,' she stopped, and his son said, 'I wish, dear papa, we had you at Fox-how.' He made no answer, but the last conscious look, which remained fixed on his wife's memory, was the look of intense tenderness and love with which he smiled upon them both at that moment.

"The physician now returned with the medicines, and the former remedies were applied; there was a slight return of the spasms, after which he said, ‘If

the pain is again as severe as it was before you came, I do not know how I can bear it.' He then, with his eyes fixed upon the physician, who rather felt than saw them upon him, so as to make it impossible not to answer the exact truth, repeated one of his former questions about the cause of the disease, and ended with asking, 'Is it likely to return ? 'and on being told that it was-Is it generally suddenly fatal ? ' Generally.' On being asked whether he had any pain, he replied that he had none but from the application of the external remedies; and then, a few moments afterwards, inquired what medicine was to be given, and on being told, answered, Ah, very well!' The physician, who was dropping the laudanum into a glass, turned around, and saw him looking quite calm, but with his eyes shut. In another minute, he heard a rattle in the throat, and a convulsive struggle-flew to the bed, caught his head upon his shoulder, and called to one of the servants to fetch Mrs Arnold. She had but just left the room before his last conversation with the physician, in order to acquaint her son with his father's danger, of which he was still unconscious, when she heard herself called from above. She rushed up-stairs, told her son to bring the rest of the children, and with her own hands applied the remedies that were brought, in the hope of reviving animation, though herself feeling from the moment that she saw him, that he had already passed away. He was indeed no longer conscious. The sobs and cries of his children as they entered and saw their father's state, made no impression upon him-the eyes were fixed-the countenance was unmoved-there was a heaving of the chest-deep gasps escaped at prolonged intervals; and just as the usual medical attendant arrived, and as the old school-house servant, in an agony of grief, rushed with the others into the room, in the hope of seeing his master once more-he breathed his last. "It must have been shortly before eight A.M. that he expired, though it was naturally impossible for those who were present to adjust their recollections of what passed, with precise exactness of time or place. So short and sudden had been the seizure, that hardly any one out of the household itself had heard of his illness before its fatal close. His guest and former pupil, who had slept in a remote part of the house, was coming down to breakfast as usual, thinking of questions to which the conversation of the preceding night had given rise, and which, by the great kindness of his manner, he felt doubly encouraged to ask him, when he was met on the staircase by the announcement of his death. The masters knew nothing till the moment when, almost at the same time, at the different boarding-houses, the fatal message was delivered, in all its startling abruptness, that Dr Arnold was dead! What that Sunday was in Rugby it is hard fully to represent. The incredulity -the bewilderment-the agitated inquiries for every detail-the blank, more awful than sorrow, that prevailed through the vacant services of that long and dreary day-the feeling as if the very place had passed away with him, who had so emphatically been in every sense its head-the sympathy which hardly dared to contemplate, and which yet could not but fix the thoughts and looks of all on the desolate house where the fatherless family were gathered round the chamber of death."*

This striking scene needs no comment:

"Is that his death-bed where the Christian lies?" "No! 'tis not his. 'Tis death itself there dies.*"* COLERIDGE

*Stanley's "Life of Arnold."

GOD'S TESTIMONY AGAINST SIN.

1. By the execution of every individual of all the millions that perished in the flood; by the overwhelming of Sodom and Gomorrah with fire and brimstone from heaven; by the plagues of Egypt; by the sentence of death against the Canaanites; by the destruction of the Jewish nation, and the fearful miseries brought upon Jerusalem in its first capture; and by the still more dreadful woes it suffered in its last destruction-God testified against the sins that caused them. Each of these events was God's testimony against specific sins, made by the execution of the multitude of persons that perished in it.

The public execution of one person is a solemn and impressive testimony of the state against the sin that made it necessary. How unutterably solemn and impressive, then, is the testimony borne against sin by the execution of all those millions!

2. By all the weariness of labour ever felt; by all the torments of guilt and shame in all ages past; by all the pains of sickness ever endured; by all the terrors of death suffered, from the fall of Abel to this hour God has given testimony to every soul of man against sin. By these all, he has been saying to men, and still says "O do not this abominable thing that I hate!"

3. By all the torments of anger, envy, and malice; by all the miseries of discontent, disappointment, and fear; by all the crimes caused by ingratitude, unfaithfulness, and neighbourhood and family quarrels; by all the ruin of character, happiness, and property, and the deaths by millions of the victims of intemperance and lewdness; and by all the horrors of war, or the bloody field, and in the desolated homes of the thousands of millions that it has destroyedGod bears, and long has borne, witness against the sins that caused them.

4. By every throb of pain, and every sigh of sorrow, and every tear of grief, and every groan of agony, and every shriek of anguish, that has been felt, and seen, and heard on earth, he has raised high the voice of his testimony against sin, and thundered in the ears of men, "O do not this abominable thing

that I hate!"

5. By all the sacrifices Jesus made; by all the contempt he bore; by all the insults he endured; by all the pains he suffered; by every drop of that bloody sweat, and every stroke of that fearful scourging; by all the agonies of the crucifixion, and all the horrors of soul that came upon him then-God bears testimony (against "the sins that made him die."

6. By every command in his Word forbidding it, and every threatening of punishment for it; by all the dread wailings and gnashings of teeth announced by Christ; by the torments of the fire that is never quenched, and the dreadfulness of the worm that never dies; by all the fearfulness of everlasting punishment in the "fire prepared for the devil and his angels"-God declares his solemn, earnest, eternal testimony against sin.

Could all the sounds of woe that sin has caused already be united in one remonstrance against it, how would it thunder in our ears, and appal our hearts!

Reader, is it not enough? Has not God testified sufficiently against sin? If all those testimonies are not sufficient to deter men from it, what of testimony, what that God could say or do, without destroying their free agency, would deter them from it? If others heed it not, hear it for yourself. Consider it well. Note, that with the united power of all this testimony, he is virtually saying to you, "0 do not this abominable thing that I hate !"

Observe that he has said of some, "As they did nct like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave

249

them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things that are not convenient." Unwillingness to remember God, if you long indulge it, will move him to give you over to a reprobate mind, and you may do things that you now abhor. Alienation from God is the root of sins and miseries. Your only safety is in keeping up a habitual remembrance and acknowledgment of him.-New York Observer.

BE IT UNTO THEE EVEN AS THOU WILT. SOME forty years since I was intimately acquainted with a widow woman, who was the mother of four children (for whose spiritual benefit she observed days of private fasting and prayer), the youngest a son, named Ashbel, then about ten years of age. One day in conversation with her respecting her children, she remarked to me, "Ashbel will be a minister of the gospel." To the inquiry what made her think so? she replied, "God has promised it to me, and I firmly believe it, and intend to educate him for it." And she added with an emphasis, "You will see, Mr H., if you live, that Ashbel will be a minister." Soon after this the lad was brought home from school, taken very suddenly and dangerously sick. And when the neighbours came in they all supposed he could not live; but the mother calmly remarked, “I wish to do all in my power to relieve him, but I have not the least fear that he will die." And the only reason was her confidence in God's promise that he should be a minister; for all the symptoms of his disease indicated a speedy dissolution. The son recovered, and the mother's subsequent conduct for a series of years fully evinced that her faith was to her "the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen."

She carried him through all his preparatory studies, and sent him to Princeton College, for the express purpose of preparing him for the ministry, though all this time he was a thoughtless impenitent youth. Just before he graduated, he wrote home to his mother to know what he should do with his room furniture? She wrote to him, to leave it in the care of some friend in Princeton; for she intended and expected to send him back to the Seminary. Her faith had not yet failed her. Though the vision tarried she still waited for it, in full confidence that it would come and would not tarry. The son complied with his mother's request, left his room furniture in Princeton, graduated and returned home, with no more prospect, or even thought or desire on his part, of becoming a minister of the gospel, than when he was ten years old. This was a matter entirely between his mother and her God.

Soon after this there was a revival of religion in that place, and God remembered his promise to this believing woman, and had respect to her faith and confidence in it. All her children were hopefully converted, this son among the rest. And in due time he went to Princeton Seminary, and found use for his college room furniture, precisely in accordance with the faith and expectation of his mother. He finished his theological course, entered the ministry, and became an acceptable preacher of the gospel. Some time after this, while conversing with the mo

ther in relation to the subject, she remarked to me, Did I not tell you, Mr H., when Ashbel was ten years old that he would be a minister?" And she added, "I as much believed it then as I do now."

A part of the above narrated facts I personally knew at the time they occurred; and the remainder I had from the woman's own lips after the whole was accomplished. And she was a person of a strong, well-balanced mind, and a sound, orthodox, unassum. ing Christian, showing her faith by her works. And it seems as though God actually said unto her, O woman! great is thy faith: be unto thee even as thou

wilt.

A LAMP IN A DARK PLACE.

BY REV. JOHN TODD, D.D. OUR readers well know with how much interest we are all now looking out upon the world. After more than a quarter of a century of profound peace-during which time the human mind, instead of being given up to devise engines of death, has advanced the world more than two or ten centuries of war could have done-the world is again shaken. There must have been a long preparation, else the random shot of a single gun, and the cry from an unknown voice, "It's too late!" could not have convulsed all Europe. The loins of kings have been loosed, and the wise have been taken in their own craftiness. What shall be the end of these things? When we see changes, we are apt-nay, we are determined to prophesy. If the Pope shows tokens of being a man of the age, we toast him and make speeches, and feel that he is about to annihilate his throne by the rays of light which he lets in upon it. If he is frightened at the spirit which he has evoked, and runs away, we make mouths at him, and predict that he will never come back again to befool the human mind. When we see the legions of Russia thundering at the gates of Constantinople, and her fleets riding at anchor in the Golden Horn, or when we see the arts and improvements of the West creeping into the great gate (Sublime Porte) of that city, we feel that the False Prophet as well as the Beast hath his days numbered. So he hath. So have both of them. But more than once has the Pope hurried from his throne amid the derision of the world, and yet he still lives, and calls upon the whole of Popedom to discuss the important question-Was the Virgin Mary born without sin? Infallibility does not reside in the Pope by himself, nor in his cardinals alone, nor in any synod or body alone-nor in all the faithful alone; but take all these ciphers and multiply them together, and they will have an infallible answer to a question which infallibility has not been able to decide for more than eighteen hundred years!-The Pope still lives, and will probably be reinstated on his throne of darkness by bayonets and blood. Protestant nations will look on quietly. The Mohammedan power still lives, though more than once armies have mysteriously withdrawn from the gates of Constantinople, which seemed destined to destroy it for ever.

The fact is, we may try to predict and to manage the world, but we very soon find we are wearying

ourselves-like the sage whom Rasselas found in Egypt, who for years had been wearing himself out in ruling the planets and the clouds, and distributing light and heat and rain to the various countries of each with impartiality. The sun and moon obeyed him very well, but the winds and the storms were sadly refractory, and seemed never to be obedient to his voice. God ruleth! let us rejoice. The overturnings the times and the seasons-are his. In his plans, as revealed in his promises, he is one day to make kings and queens sit at his feet; and is to slay the False Prophet and the Beast "full of lying wonders" with the sword of his mouth-i.e. by his word. But when it will be-how many agencies are first to be put in operation-how many railroads are to be laid through the dark regions of the earth-how many electrical wires are to be stretched through these countries-how much the communities are to be agitated and shaken by political questions-how much blood is to flow, or how many upheavings there are to be before light shall encircle the earth, we do not know. unterrified, if we make the word of God "the lamp But we look out upon the world calmly and to our feet." The moment we close that word, we feel like the sage before alluded to, when out of the society of his friends. “I am like a man,” says he, "habitually afraid of spectres, who is set at ease by a lamp, and wonders at the dread which harassed him in the dark; yet, if his lamp be extinguished, feels again the terrors which he knows that when it is light he shall feel no more." How many of these spectres dance around us, the moment we extinguish or set aside the lamp of divine truth! How are we troubled, and listen to the first tidings which come to us across the waters! How we are elated or depressed, as every new change seems to us to be for the advancing or the retarding of the chariot of the Prince of Peace. Peace! be still! He walketh upon the troubled waters-and watcheth the insect that creepeth upon the rose-leaf, as well as the flight of the archangel. He hath not put his plans in the hands of Popes or armies, councils or nations, so that he cannot at any moment make them his own instru

ments.

FAR AWAY FROM HEAVEN. "I KNOW not what eternal death is. I can tell you some things. It is far away from heaven-those from hope-hope that here ' comes to all.' It is the blissful plains where eternal joy dwells. It is far abode of all the abandoned, and profane, and vilethe collected guilt and wretchedness-of this world. It is a place where no sanctuary like this opens its doors and invites to heaven; where no Sabbath returns to bless the soul; where no message of mercy unblessed like this with the work of redemption. comes to the suffering and the sad. It is a world On no second Calvary is there a Redeemer offered for sin; and from no tomb there does he rise to life to bless the sufferers with the offer, and to furnish the pledge of heaven. No Spirit strives there to reclaim the lost; and on no zephyr there is the message of mercy born, whispering peace. No God meets the desponding there with promises and hopes; and from no eye there is the tear of sorrow ever wiped away. There is no such friend as Jesus; no