splendours of power and of royalty, which | public purse, gave mighty offence to the dazzle the eyes of many, appeared to her Republicans. a mockery and a delusion. Averse as she was to her son's assumption of the Protectorate, she seldom obtruded on him her advice. When at times she did so, he always heard her with much deference and attention; but thinking that she was unacquainted with State affairs, he notwithstanding followed the course which his own judgment suggested and approved. This amiable woman died at Whitehall, November 16th, 1654, at the advanced age of 94, worn out by the wear of nature rather than carried off by disease. A little before her death, having called her distinguished and beloved son to her bedside, stretching forth her withered hands, she invoked the blessing of God upon him, and took farewell of him in these words "The Lord cause his face to shine upon you, and comfort you in all your adversities, and enable you to do great things for the glory of the most high God, and to be a relief unto his people. My dear son, I leave my heart with thee; good night!" At this pious and affectionate benediction from her dying lips, Cromwell was deeply affected. "It had been often said," says Dr. Vaughan, "that we find small trace of Cromwell's intellectual power among his descendants, except in the female branch, and there is a dignity of feeling in the above benediction which may well suggest that the female ancestors of the Protector, as well as his female descendants, were not common persons." " The honour which the Protector put upon his deceased mother by interring her with English monarchs excited surprise abroad. It was supposed, it would appear, that so deadly an enemy of kings as Cromwell had shown himself to be, would have disdained to mingle his own ashes, or those of his dearest relatives, with the ashes of monarchs, or at least with the ashes of the ancestors of the unhappy monarch whom he had brought to the scaffold. Her remains were not permitted to repose in the dormitory of the kings of England. As if to permit the ashes, not only of her son, the regicide, the destroyer of monarchy, the usurper, but of any of his kindred, to mingle with theirs were an insult to the mighty dead, or disturbed their rest, or polluted them and the places of the sepulture, her body, soon after the Restoration, was ignominiously disinterred. By a royal warrant, dated Whitehall, September 9, 1661, under the hand of Sir Edward Nicholas, Secretary of State, it was taken up on the 12th of September, along with the corpses of many others "who had been unwarrantably interred in Henry VII.'s Chapel, and other the chapels and places within the Collegiate Church of Westminster, since the year 1641," and was thrown into a pit dug in St. Margaret's Churchyard, Westminster, "near the back door of one of the prebendaries."-From Anderson's "Women of the Puritan Times." Blackie & Co. THE GRACE OF GIVING. In her last moments, Mrs. Cromwell expressed it as her wish that she might be buried privately, without pomp and ceremony, in some country churchyard; and that she might by no means be in- As a distinction has been made beterred in Westminster Abbey, which she tween the grace of prayer and the gift had some reason to fear her son, with of prayer, a similar distinction may, to the view of doing her honour, intended some extent, be properly made between to make her last resting-place. With the grace of giving and the gift of giving. this wish, so much in harmony with the It is natural to some to give, and to give unambitious modesty of her nature, liberally; they are always giving away Cromwell did not choose to comply. He their money, or other things, and somecaused her remains to be conveyed with times indiscreetly, because they like to great solemnity, and attended with many do it. The act of giving affords them hundred torches, though it was daylight, pleasure, almost irrespective of the obto the mausoleum of the kings of Eng-jects of their generosity. Again, there land, in Henry VII.'s Chapel, where they are those who give their money freely, were deposited. The funeral was con- because they have so much of it that ducted with all or more than the usual amount of pomp and magnificence of the funerals of English queens. The great expense, which was defrayed from the they do not value it, and are really no more generous, nor as much so, as many who give but little; but those who are naturally generous are as likely to give away their last pound as if they had millions more. This is a noble, natural virtue, a gift of our Creator, but not a Christian grace. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, though he was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, can make those who are naturally stingy and selfish, devote themselves and all that they possess to his service. This is the grace of giving-a devotion, an act of worship which speaks louder than words. If prayer is an offering up of our desires to God for things agreeable to his will, giving is an offering up of our substance to God, that with it he may do the things agreeable to his will. We would not give a straw for the faith or love of one who prays in words, "thy kingdom come," and does not furnish, to some extent, those instrumentalities upon which God has declared that he will rely for the conversion of the world. The simple bringing and laying our offerings at our Saviour's feet, is the highest form of prayer. It is a mode of expressing our love to Christ and to his cause, which may be used when the heart is too full for utterance, and words alone are felt to be inadequate to the office of telling him that we want to do all that we can for the coming of his kingdom. This is something superior to natural benevolence-it is natural benevolence sanctified, and converted into a Christian grace. It is a principle powerful in its operation, without regard to pain or loss. It is not a mere feeling; it is a principle at the foundation of feeling. It is a principle exhibited in higher, stronger, and purer feeling, than any of which the unregenerated heart is capable. But it is a feeling which we must expect to see expressed by those who profess to be converted, because in conversion this principle of devotion to God is implanted in the heart. Perhaps some who pray, but do not give, may demur at the conclusion to which our logic brings us, but we cannot help it. If they are startled at the introduction of such a test of Christian character, we are glad of it, as it may lead them to inquire whether they have really given themselves to the Lord. And if they say, "though we give all our goods to feed the poor, and have not charity, it profiteth us nothing," and therefore, our giving does not prove that we are Christians; this is conceded. But, on the other hand, their not giving does prove that they are not Christians, Of because it proves that they have not this charity. And this grace of giving flourishes in most untoward circumstances. the churches of Macedonia we are told that their deep poverty abounded unto the riches of their liberality. And, strange as it may seem, those who are poor, or in moderate circumstances, have an advantage in this respect over those who are rich. For if, while the rich give largely, yet their giving involves no sacrifice nor self-denial, then they do not enjoy the same opportunity of grow. ing in this Christian grace, as those do who are obliged to economise, and de prive themselves of things which they would very much like to have, in order to have something to give to Christ. David exhibited this grace, when being offered by Araunah all that was necessary for a burnt-offering, he refused it. saying, "I will not offer unto the Lord of that which cost me nothing." Alas! we have been too long offering to the Lord of that which cost us nothing. Else would not his treasury now be empty, while our vaults and granaries are full. WHAT MOTHERS CAN DO. The FORTY-TWO years ago there was born to the wife of a poor and obscure blacksmith a son. The father died, and soon after, the mother; and their history and memory perished from before men. infant child was left to the care of whomsoever might take a fancy to it; but as months passed, then years, one friend took it up, then another; and how, he could scarcely tell himself, he obtained a collegiate education, and found his way into the ministry; when, one day, a thousand miles away from the playground of his childhood, after preaching to a large and attentive audience, an old lady met him at the foot of the pulpit-stairs, and said :—“ I was present at your birth; I knew your mother well; and I do not wonder you have risen to be a minister of the Gospel, for it was her habit to give you to the Lord in prayer before you were born." Blessed mother! unknown to the rich and great of her time, known, perhaps, even to her neighbours only as the "blacksmith's wife," she worked, and lived, and loved, and prayed in her poor, little, obscure sphere, until it was her Master's will that she should go up In the abysse; Enquiry ran; The God I sought for was not to be found. But in those deserts which no line can sound, higher; and she went early, because she | I askt the reptiles, and whatever is I askt the aire, if that was He? but lo! If It told me No. Demanded then, any feather'd fowle 'mongst them were such? Offended with my question, in full quire, But they all, much Answer'd, "To finde thy God thou must look higher." More than a hundred years ago, there lived in London the wife of a sea-captain; who were her ancestors, where she was born, or what of her life, no one knows, or ever will know now. She was early left a widow, with a fatherless child; but she feared God, and felt her respon- The God thou seek'st."-I askt, what eye or care sibilities to the child of her love. Could see or heare; But, I askt the heavens, sun, moon, and stars, but they in spite of a mother's teachings, he went What in the world I might descry or know to sea, and became one of the most pro Above, below: Which with a mighty and strong voice reply'd, "I am not He, O man! for know that I, Was fashion'd first of nothing, thus instated, "Oman, what art thou?"-What more could I say fligate of young men; but never, in all-With an unanimous voice, all these things said, his wanderings and dissipations, could "We are not God, but we by Him were made." he rid himself of the remembrance of I askt the world's great universal masse, the sad, pale, sweet face of his mother, If that God was? nor her earnest, patient, loving teachings. She died, but her prayers bound him fast to the throne of God, and John Newton became one of the best of men. His pious conversation was the means of converting Dr. Buchanan, whose work, "Star in the East," led Adoniram Judson to the Saviour; converted Dr. Scott, the commentator; deepened Cowper's piety; through it Wilberforce became a changed man, and wrote "A Practical View of Christianity," which converted Legh Richmond, who wrote the "Dairyman's Daughter;" and how many souls that book has awakened and led to the I askt myself, what this great God might be Saviour, and will continue to do, only the records of eternity can tell. Mothers! however poor, obscure, and unknown, look upon your boy-child, and, remembering what God hath wrought through such as you, take courage, and pray in faith that the same he can do by you also. Than dust and clay ? mortal, fading, a meere puffe, a blast, That cannot last; Fraile, That none amongst them challenged such a name, And though invisible and infinite,— I askt the seas, and all the deeps below, My God to know. To human sight, Thou, in thy mercy, justice, truth, appearest ; One spake with quivering lip, Of a fair freighted ship, THE SABBATH SCHOOL. PRESIDENT HARRISON, of America, taught for several years in an humble Sabbath-school on the banks of the Ohio. The Sabbath before he left home for Washington, to assume the duties of chief magistrate of the nation, he met his Bible-class as usual. And his last counsel on the subject to his gardener at Washington, it may be hoped, will never be forgotten by the nation, when advised to keep a dog to protect his fruit, he replied, "Rather set a Sunday-school teacher to take care of the boys."-Old Jonathan. THE SECRET OF SUCCESS. A Word to Sabbath-School Teachers. A PIOUS young lady was requested to teach a class of girls in a Sabbath-school in New With all his household to the deep gone York. She accepted the invitation and en down. But one had wilder woe, Lost in the darker depths of a great town. There were some who mourned their youth, With a most loving ruth, gaged in the work. She was seen to be very earnest, faithful, and affectionate with her youthful charge. In a little while, one scholar after another became thoughtful, serious, and anxious, until every member of her class was converted to God. She was then requested to give up her class and take another in which none of the scholars were For its brave hopes and memories ever pious. After due consideration, she con green; And one upon the West Turned an eye that would not rest, For far-off hills, whereon its joy had been. Some talked of vanished gold, Some of proud honours told, sented. She had not been long in her new class before similar effects were produced, and ultimately every member of the class cherished hope in Christ. She was finally induced to give up this class also, and take another class of children who were unconverted. She had not laboured long when Some spake of friends that were their trust precisely the same results as before followed no more; And one of a green grave, That made him sit so lonely on the shore. But when their tales were done, "Alas!" these pilgrims said, Athenæum. her labours-every scholar in the class became pious. Her work was now done. She fell asleep in Jesus, and entered the rest that remaineth for the people of God. After her death, her friends, on examining her journal, found the following resolution "Resolved, that I will pray once each day for each of my class by name." On looking further into the journal they found the same resolution re-written and re-adopted, with a slight addition, as follows: "Resolved, that I will pray cnce each day for each one of my class by name, and agonise in prayer." On looking still further into the journal, the same resolution is found re-written and readopted, with another slight addition, as follows: "Resolved, that I will pray once each day for each one of my class by name, and agonise in prayer, and expect a blessing." THE LATE REV. JOHN NEWTON'S before, not having freedom to speak, at FAMILY BIBLE. The following is in Newton's Handwriting, upon the fly-leaf of a Bible in the possession of Mr. W. H. Collingridge, London. JOHN NEWTON, the son of John and Elizabeth Newton, born 24th July, 1723, at London; and married Mary, the daughter of George and Elizabeth Catlett, of Chatham, the 1st of Feb. 1750. Ex illo mihi posten, My dearest, much-beloved wife, the partner of my joys, sorrows, and cares; the hinge upon which all the principal events of my life turned, was, by the Lord's undeserved goodness, continued to me more than forty years. A lingering and trying illness of two years terminated in her removal from this state of sin and sorrow, on Wednesday, the 15th December, 1790, at a quarter-past ten in the evening. I was hanging over her, with a candle in my hand, when she breathed her last, without a struggle. The Sunday my request she held up her hand, and waved it several times, in token that her She knew herself heart was in peace. to be a sinner, and all her hopes were founded on Jesus, the sinner's Friend. In him, I trust, she fell asleep, and is now before the throne. I hope shortly to join her there. Too long she was the idol of my heart; and I fear there was too much idolatry in my affection, to the last day of her life. The closing dispensation was well suited to convince me of my folly, and to humble me for it. I humbly hope the Lord pardoned us both. Though he caused grief, he had compassion. He supported her; endowed her with wonderful patience under great sufferings. He supported me. I preached not one sermon the less, either for her illness or her death; and I was enabled to preach her funeral myself, from Hab. iii. 17, 18, on the 23rd December. "Praise the Lord, O my soul." My dear Betsy will take care of this Bible, to which the brief records of her family are prefixed. JOHN NEWTON, the 10th May, 1791.-Gospel Magazine. Missions. OUR MISSION TO CHINA. their elders, and deacons, and schools. A goodly number of native preachers and teachers have been trained and sent forth on evangelistic work; and the Medical agency, in conjunction with the Missionary work, is being regularly carried on. The Mission work has been We have just been favoured with a copy of the Seventh Annual Report of the Association in Scotland which cooperates with our Church in the Chinese Missionary enterprise. As usual, it is prepared with great care, and contains begun in the Tiechew department of an admirable summary of the past year's Canton-a native Church has been work. Although the greater part of the formed at Swatow, and the Gospel intelligence has appeared in our pages preached to some extent in the surroundfrom time to time, for the sake of those ing towns and villages. During that who may not have perused our Mission-period, also, two most devoted and singlearies' letters regularly, we string together the following paragraphs from the different divisions of the Report : "Seven years since, there were not above forty converts at Amoy belonging to all the Missionary Societies. Now, there are above 600. During that period four stations have been set up in the province of Fuhkien, in connection with the Mission; and regularly constituted Christian societies been formed, with minded labourers have been removed by death, and a third has been unwillingly necessitated to retire, and exchange the foreign field for labour at home. The history of the Mission in the past year has been, upon the whole, most encouraging, giving proofs of progress, alike in the consolidation of the infant Churches, and the extension of the work into new fields. There are five stations around Amoy |