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leys, and gulleys and creeks, and marking millions upon millions of treasure-hidden treasure-and then come back to a colony of poor, struggling people, and gathered them around him, and asked one man, you worth ?" and he points to a few ill-fed cattle ; another man, “What are you worth ?” and he shows the tools of his craft; and another man, “What are you worth ?" and he shows simply the hands with which he can labour. This man knows that he has it in his power, simply by his word, by telling them what he knows, to make the fortune of every man there, and put them in the way of being rich for themselves and for their posterity, if they will only avail themselves of the information he is about to give them. A man in such circumstances would feel himself amazingly lifted up with a feeling of honour, delight, and importance; and precisely in this position does Paul feel himself in the midst of a poor and ill-provided-for race of souls. He looks out upon mankind, as he finds them with all their life before them, their long, long life, a life that will never end: he asks them round and round what they have laid up, what they have prepared, what they have to look to, how much they are really worth for the great issues of the life that is to come; and finding them as a whole, and as a rule, poor and miserable, unprovided for and unfortunate, and knowing that he has got “the pearl of great price,” the treasure that will make every man rich, the treasure that will make each soul in itself unutterably wealthy, he feels, “ Unto me who am less than the least of all saints is this grace given, that I should preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ.” He feels that in preaching Christ he was preaching unsearchable riches, putting them in the way of being wealthy beyond all count. He feels the honour of thuis being permitted to make the fortunes of perishing souls, an honour so great that it casts him down in his own eyes so low, that he does not know how to speak of himself. He uses in this passage the most peculiar expression. One would have thought that it would have been strong enough for him to say, “the least of all saints”; but the impetuosity of his own feeling of littleness under so great a glory was such, that instead of contenting himself with writing good Greek, and saying that he was the least of all saints, he commits just the same breach of the ordinary rules of speech, as if he had said in English, “I am the leaster of all saints." He goes quite beyond ordinary usage, that he may get a stronger expression than words can well give. “I am the leaster of all saints,” or as our translators have most beautifully rendered it, “I am less than the least of all saints.” He at one time compared himself with sinners, and he was willing to put his name at the head of them, “ Of whom I am chief”; but as to saints, he wished to put his name at the foot of them, “I am less than the least of all saints.”

The second Sermon in this number is by John Hartley, of York. It is quite equal in elegance and not less evangelical than that from which the above quotation is taken.

Revival Miscellanies. By the Rev. JAMES CAUGHEY. London: HOULSTON AND STONEMAN. Manchester: J. AINSWORTH, 93, Piccadilly.

This work consists of twelve Revival Sermons and numerous articles, under the denomination of "Revival Miscellanies.” The Sermons are on the following subjects—The Striving of the Spirit, The Standing Doubt, The Sting of Death, The Omnipotence of Faith, A Call to Decision, Purification by Faith, The Fear of Death destroyed by a sight of Christ, The Fulness dwelling in Jesus Christ, The Fear of Unconverted Men in the Hour of Death, Quenching the Spirit, An Invitation to Straitened Souls, This Year thou shalt Die.

The “Revival Miscellanies" treat on Entire Sanctification, Methods to Promote Revivals, Effects of Revival Efforts, Revivals and the Terrors of God, Revival Excitements, Revival Prayer-meetings, Difficulties of Converts, Temptation, Infidelity, Affliction, Backsliding, Ministerial Conflicts, &c. What a variety of topics, and all of them of vital importance. Surely, the author has taken ample room and verge enough” in the seleetion of his subjects; but let it also be stated, that he has brought to their discussion, a mind of more than ordinary gifts. In running over his pages, we thought, we sometimes perceived traces of a vice not uncommon among American authors—that of attempting distinctions where ordinary eyes can perceive no difference. But the work, as a whole, is of great merit, and cannot be too widely circulated among the Churches of this country. Few men have appeared, at any time, who have been more eminently adapted for usefulness than this great American Revivalist. Nor do we know of a better service that can be rendered to the Church than the attempt, by the circulation of his writings, to develope kindred qualities in those who minister in holy things, among us. We have no belief that Caughey, is, the last Revivalistic preacher that our eyes are destined to behold. One derelict poet, in his gloomy "Monody" on another, might say

“ Long shall we seek his likeness-long in vain,

And turn to all of him which may remain,
Sighing that Nature form'd but one such man,

And broke the die in moulding Sheridan!" But we can utter no such language, with respect to the leaders of the people, of the Lord of Hosts. Byron might thus despair, of the appearance in future times, of genius at all comparable with that of the object of his intellectual idolatry; but our confidence in the beneficent provisions of the God of Grace, for carrying on his work in the world, is somewhat stronger than the poet's in the bounties of Nature. Caughey is, doubtless, a splendid instance of the unreserved dedication of heart, mind, and strength to the cause of God, and of what may be done by such a man, in such a cause-an illustrious example of the almost seraphic ardour with which a human being may, by the grace of God, be enabled to devote himself to the noblest of all enterprises—the enterprise of saving souls from death ; but we believe there are thousands of ministers in connection with British Churches, who, emulating the example of this honoured individual, might, by equal devotedness in the service of the Church, realise equal, if not more, than equal success. Let our brethren pray, then, for the spirit and power of Elias! and the people implore Jehovah in their behalf, in the words of the Psalmist, “Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children, and let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us; and establish thou the work of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it!”

We could not, probably, close these observations more judiciously, than by applying to the matter in hand, certain valuable suggestions which the eminent Doctor Hamilton, has made, with respect to the pursuit of excellence, in general. It is very important that Christian ministers should be men of high moral and intellectual excellence, Crowded as is the ministry, it has still abundant room for first-rate men; and he who would insure a welcome from society, has only to unite to good principle, eminent skill in his calling. But the day for stone hatchets and blunt axes is past, and from the humblest craft to the most intellectual profession, in order to succeed, it is requisite to be clever, and active, and well-informed. Doubtless, sickness and other calamities may be interposed ; but, assuredly, no one has a right to quarrel with the world, if it refuses to pay for misshapen garments, upreadable poems, and stupid discourses. Let us therefore pray, and study, and labour, till no one can do anything better than ourselves; and then

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when we enter on active life, we shall find thát we are really wanted. And, much as is heard of glutted markets and a redundant population, we shall find that there is no surplus of individuals, who, with exalted piety combine professional excellence. Large as is the accumulation of people, who, through incapacity have broken down, or who, through ignorant mediocrity never can get on, there never can be a glut of talented goodness, or of intelligence in union with principle. In this there is room enough for all who are able and willing to serve their generation.

On Religion ; its Sources, Character, and Supports. By CALEB WEBB. London: Houlston and STONEMAN, 65, Paternoster-row.

The work of an individual who is but little disposed to take his religious principles on credit. It displays considerable power of thought and felicity of expression. A brief passage on the struggles of a virtuous course of life will supply a fair specimen of the author's style, both as to thought and language.

“ The life in the love of God, does not proceed equally and continuously in the present state. The possessor of it does not sail along as on the surface of a bright, unruffled stream. Many are the eddies, the whirlpools, in which he finds himself involved ; many the obstructions, against which he dashes with confounding violence; and many the miraculous and instantaneously effected escapes into seasons of pure serenity. He ascends over mountains of difficulties ; he passes the depths of depression ; he engages in hard and crushing conflict. These changes, through the existence of the Son of God within him, are excitive to direct acts of religious worship.”

We cannot however dismiss this publication without observing that, the Author employs forms of expression in the statement of what he conceives to be the truth, to which many men will be found strongly to object, and which will lead some, probably, to regard the Author as enunciating views, at variance with those held by the generality of Christians on religious subjects. Take as an illustration the following definition of Religion. “Religion may be defined as a certain mental state, in which the man is affected by a sense of ultimate, abiding, and comprehensive relations as distinguished from those which are more superficial, transient, and particular.”

Now, if we are not greatly mistaken, the bulk of our readers, will fail to derive from such phraseology as this, any definite idea of what religion is, whilst others, will regard it, as making philosophic generalisations of any class whatever, to form the very essence of religion. But, surely the Author did not contemplate the teaching of a doctrine so monstrous.

Sunday-school Teachers' Class Register for 1855. London : SunDAY-SCHOOL UNION.

This useful little book is adapted—1st. For the insertion of the names and residences of the Scholars. 2nd. For a regular account of the attendance of the Class, and a faithful record that the repetition lessons have been said. 3rd. For noting down under the head of Memoranda, the names of absent Scholars for visitation during the week, also the results of such visits, with any other particulars which may be thought necessary or interesting. These are some of the excellences which attach to this excellent little book.

The National Temperance Chronicle. London : W. TWEEDIE, 337, Strand.

A most useful publication, which abounds with facts illustrative of the vice of Intemperance,-one of the most hateful practices of our fallen humanity.

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BIOGRAPHY.

MEMOIR OF JOSEPH CRAIG, OF APPLEBY. DE QUINCEY has well said, that "nothing makes such dreary and monotonous reading as the old hackneyed roll-call, chronologically arranged, of inevitable facts in a man's life. One is so certain of the man having been born, and also of his having died, that it is dismal to be under the necessity of reading it. That the man began by being a boy—that he went to school--and that by intense application to his studies, which he took to be his position in this life, he rose to distinction, as a robber of orchards, seems 80 probable, upon the whole, that I am willing to accept it as a postulate.

These little circumstances are to be looked for as sown broadcast up and down the great fields of biography, so that any one life becomes, in this respect, but the echo of thousands. Chronologic successions of events and dates, such as these, which, belonging to the race, illustrate nothing in the individual, are as wearisome as they are useless."

Very true, De Quincey, you have just given " a local habitation and a name," to thoughts we have often had, especially while reading religious memoirs. There is generally a prosy tameness in the matter of which they are composed, and a dead uniformity in the manner in which it is detailed. The ground to be gone over is so hard, the path so well beaten, that we almost know it all before we commence to read. We expect to be told when and where he was born—whether his parents were pious or otherwise—when he was converted-to whom he was married ; that he filled various offices with credit, and was esteemed by all who knew him, and loved most by those who knew him best; that his sickness baffled the skill of the physicians, but he bore it with Christian resignation, and was never heard to murmur, till death released him from his pains, when he fell asleep in Jesus ; and on the Sabbath evening, his death was improved by the writer to a large and attentive congregation.

This forms the substance of most of our Magazine memoirs, the whole being freely interspersed with Wesley's hymns, which we have heard quoted for such purposes ever since we were children. Now, these facts, although true enough, are also true of thousands of Christians—they belong to the class. We want to know what belonged to the individual. We want the man to stand before us in all his distinctive characteristics, as he was known to those amongst whom he lived and moved, and had his being. And let it not be said, that the majority of men have nothing particular in their lives to relate. Every good man's life is a tale worth telling. Carlyle has correctly said, that " A true delineation of the smallest man, and his scenes of pilgrimage through life, is capable of interesting the greatest man. All men are to an unspeakable extent, brothers; each man's life, a strange emblem of every man's; and human portraits, faithfully drawn, are, of all pictures, the welcomest on human walls.” Fully believing this, we will try to unfold the life of Joseph Craig, of Appleby, whose death was announced in this Magazine about two year's since. We have faith in the opinion, that in writing a memoir, it is well to give as vivid an idea as possible of the personal appearance of the man. It enables us to understand him better, Allow me then, my reader, to conduct you to the little quiet town of Appleby, in Westmoreland. It is rather torified, never mind that, it is a beautiful spot, surrounded by some of the highest hills in England, and encircled by the river Eden. Crossing the river on the west side of the town, by an old, narrow, wooden bridge, you at once come to a farm house, known as Joseph Craig's Holm. Standing near the door you see a man, a manly man, who is always called by his Christian name, Joseph. You instinctively feel that you are in company with one,

who is not an echo of any person or party, who looks at every subject through his own spectacles, and gives utterance to his thoughts in a plain, unmistakeable, straightforward manner. Here he stands, about five feet ten inches in height, very erect; dressed in a plain cloth coat, corduroy breeches, close buttoned waistcoat, wooden clogs, broad brimmed hat; and altogether reminds you of Cowper's description of Joseph Hill

An honest man, close buttoned to the chin,

Broad cloth without, and a warm heart within." Such was the appearance of Joseph Craig when I first met with him seven years ago. Having seen the man, let us now each borrow a horse, (which Joseph was always willing to lend) and go and visit his birthplace. Crossing the Appleby Bridge, we get into Bondgate, where, in old feudal times, the bondmen lived. Thanking God, that the “good old times," are past and gone, that the bondmen are now freemen, we take an easterly direction, and after three miles' ride over parish roads, we reach the foot of a very high hill, call Murton Peak. Round about are a few shabby. looking houses, built of rough hewn stown. The inhabitants are plain honest folk; chiefly miners. Through the middle of the village, a beautiful brook wells its way, in sounds most musical. The scenery is wild and barren. Among other things, the place is noted for a very peculiar wind, known as the helm wind. This wind is exceeding violent and terrific; but strange to tell, it only extends to a very short distance from that chain of mountains. Sometimes it is blowing a hurricane at Murton, but four miles distant, it would'nt puff out a farthing candle. You are a philosopher and can't credit that. Well, if you had talked with Joseph Craig, he would have convinced you. Or, ask some of the preachers that have travelled in that circuit, who have been nearly blown away by it, as I once was, and you will be convinced. There are many interesting particulars respecting this wind. The Murtonians say, that there is only one like it in the world, and that is near the Cape of Good Hope. Not having been at the Cape, I can't say. ... Well, in a small cottage at the bottom of this Fell, within a stone's throw of this bubbling brook, and within the circle of this mysterious wind, Joseph Craig was born. For the satisfaction of the curious in such matters, I may state, that he made his appearance on a bright sun-shiny day in the month of June, 1793. About his parents, I will only say, that they were honest, God-fearing people, took the Methodist preachers into their house from the first, and were in every way worthy of such a son. Joseph grew up a strong hardy boy, fond of out-door amusements. In due time he was put to the village school, to be initiated into the mysteries of A B C; and often have I heard him speak with shame and contempt of those who tried to rear his tender thought with but little commiseration for his tender skin. The master, failing to put knowledge into the head, was accustomed to take his ruler and try to drive it through the back; which process (to say the least of it) was very painful to the feelings. At length, one day, after the master had used his ruler pretty freely upon Joseph's back, the boy struck the Domine a vigorous blow with his fist, which gave the finishing stroke to his education, and he left the school. As his boyhood passed away, and manhood was coming on, he became notorious in all the games of skill—which required physical strength and activity. He stood A 1. among the wrestlers and boxers. And when he was about eighteen he began to doubt of the truth of Christianity. He carefully read Paine's “ Age of Reason,” and other Infidel works. The landmarks of his mind were removed. The cable being cut, and the anchor goue, he wandered over pathless seas of speculative doubt. This is a training which most minds, cast in such an independent mould, have to undergo. They cannot rest in a hereditary belief, based upon the opinions of others. They must take their own sounding line and fathom the deep

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