we talk of Fate, or of Necessity; as if all things were bound together in one adamantine chain, over the formation of which no intelligent and designing Cause at first presided. Chance, too, is a word not less frequently on our lips; as if we beheld around us only a succession of isolated facts and existences, held together by no law of continuity, but only by a kind of spontaneous coincidence, or a system (if such it might be termed) of causes and effects, self-generated, and each final in itself. A moment's reflection tells us that Chance is but the term by which we either express what happens unexpectedly to us, or confess our ignorance of a cause. But the misfortune is, we habitually use it as if it excluded the idea of a Providential administration of the world; as if its government presented only a succession of fortuitous coincidences, or as if every event and every fact were not actually the present and pre-arranged result of other events and other facts. In a word, the universality, consistency, and omnipotency of God's providence is not felt and acknowledged by us as it ought to be. Our belief in Providence is a kind of negative belief, without life in it, and is, therefore, perpetually proving itself no safeguard against doubt, inquietude, despondency, "hard thoughts" of God. Nay, it is consistent with a certain measure of practical conformity to the atheist's speculative unbelief, or a life "without God in the world;" for in its practical results on our feelings, perceptions, and habits of thought, it virtually dispenses with God, or rests in a point short of Him, in all that relates to the present scene of existence.

No. V.

Kindness in us is the honey that blunts the sting of unkindness in another.-LANDOR.

A truly Christian sentiment, from pages rich in beautiful and profound thoughts, but far from free of affected point and wilful antithesis, and, alas! altogether unsanctified by the spirit of religion. The assertion is not that kindness will always subdue the hostile and averted mind; but that the habit of kindness on our own part will nurse that healthy, genial temper which prompts and enables us to forgive or overlook injuries, and seek our happiness less in the feelings of others towards ourselves (which we cannot always control), than in our own feelings towards them, which, under the discipline of habitual acts of kindness, may

be trained to gentleness, forbearance, unwearied, self-sustaining benevolence towards every "brother-man." Then the good which is done to others returns upon us in a thousand ways; for

"The heart is happy still that is intent on good."

No. VI.

No one learns to think by getting rules for thinking, but by getting materials for thought.-J. P. RICHTER.

Yet we must not confound education with simple instruction. Some one has said, "Sowing seeds thickly will not ensure a harvest;" and such is the slow development of the intellectual seed, that not only must the soil it is cast upon be carefully kept clear of noxious weeds, but all genial influences must be sought for the precious deposit. It may germinate rapidly and promisingly, but it must have both "the early and the latter rain," ere it will bear "the full corn in the ear." In getting materials for thought, we are not necessarily cultivating the more valuable art of thought itself; as, on looking around us, 66 we are not observing, we are only seeing, if the beam of our eye is not charged with thought."-[Foster.] We cannot be too often reminded in these days, when so much attention is being paid to modes of communicating information, or the mere mechanics of teaching, that habits of thought, and the higher and more solid advantages of education, are not, and, in the nature of things, cannot be, the growth of any system whose exclusive demands are on the child's powers of acquisition. And let not such as have got beyond the drudgery of school and college flatter themselves that with the "materials for thought" which they may have carried away with them into active life, they have necessarily acquired the power of thinking, and, as a matter of course, will always carry about with them the permanent manifestations of intellectual life. "Not one

in the thousand," says a writer who deals not less in hard truths than sweeping conclusions, "not one in the thousand has the smallest turn for thinking; only for pensive dreaming, and hearsaying, and active babbling by rote."-[Carlyle.]

THE THREE BIRTHS.

AN old writer has said a Christian is born three times,-into this world by nature; into a state of grace by converting power; and into the kingdom of glory by death. Thus you see what we call dying is, in the other world, called "being born again."

A SPIRITUAL MINISTRY.

THE people who enjoy the ministrations of a truly spiritually-minded pastor, have a blessing the value of which they are in but little danger of over-estimating. There is a worth in spirituality for which no greatness of natural or acquired abilities can compensate. Learning and abilities are qualities much more easily attained, and much more easily judged of. Piety does not lie on the surface; it is developed by the life.

But its possession is the best guarantee for that intellectual growth for which piety is too often sacrificed. The man of piety will grow in knowledge; his very piety supplies the most impulsive and sustaining motives in the universe for labour and study. The richer his experiences in grace, the broader and brighter the fields of knowledge which will open before him, to invite to higher and higher attainments. But if he be not learned or philosophical, he has in his spirituality a source of power far surpassing the utmost scope of influence that learning ever supplied. Preaching, in Protestant countries, must respect the heads of people; but after all, in any congregation of immortal men, who have souls to save, and sins to be forgiven, to affect the heart is the preacher's chief business. The difficulty in the way of the Gospel is not so much the want of knowledge as of feeling. The preacher's desideratum is not 80 much the power to instruct as to move; light is needed, but warmth and life are more wanted. Piety which emits its electric fire from heart to heart, that gathers and wields the pathos and thrill of eternity, gets hold of the moral susceptibilities of the soul, and rouses its latent powers to the mighty business of salvation.

EFFECT OF THE MINISTRY. "AH!" said Simeon, as he delivered back the adorable babe into the arms of his mother, "this child is set for the falling and rising again of many in Israel." The same may be said of the destiny of this young minister. Some-O that it may be many !-some will hail the hour they heard him when they come to die, and the memory of it will delight them through all eternity. Others-may you all go home and ask, "Lord, is it I?" others will execrate the day he arrived among them. Of all the objects that will haunt their wretched imaginations hereafter, the chief will be the figure of this pulpit; and of all the food for the worm that never dies, and the fuel for the fire that never shall be quenched, the principal will be the sermons which he has delivered in vain from it. His ministry cannot be neutral: it must be a blessing or a curse. It cannot be inefficient: it must either kill or cure-save or destroy. "For we are unto God a sweet savour of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish. To the one, we are a savour of death unto death; and to the other, the savour of life unto life and who is sufficient for these things?" Jay, in an Ordination Sermon.

THE POWER OF KINDNESS. MANY years since there lived in one of the central counties of New Jersey, a poor mechanic,

eminent for his pious zeal and consistency. He was very much tried by the conduct of an ungodly neighbour, who was in the habit of cutting his wood for the week on the Lord's day, and the sound of whose axe continually disturbed the old Christian's meditations. Father H., as he was called, often remonstrated earnestly and kindly with his neighbour, but without any effect. At length he adopted a different course. One Saturday afternoon his neighbour found the old man very busy at his wood-pile, and inquired in astonishment what he was doing. "Why," replied Father H., "you will persist in cutting your wood on God's holy day, and it grieves me 80 much that I mean to do it for you this afternoon, so that you will have no temptation to do it to-morrow." The man was at once overcome, and exclaimed, "No, you shall not; I will do it myself. Nor will you ever after this have reason to complain of me for chopping wood on the Sabbath." And he was as good as his word.

The old man has long since gone to his reward, but this incident lives after him, to enforce the Divine direction, "Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good."

THE ELEVENTH COMMANDMENT. ARCHBISHOP USHER was wrecked on the coast of Ireland, in a wild and desert place. In his distress he went to the house of an ecclesiastica man reserved and prudent almost to distrust; and to conciliate his feelings, alleged his sacred character. The ecclesiastic, in a tone hardly civil, refused to believe him, and said he would answer for it he had never known how many commandments there' were. "I can prove to you," answered the Archbishop with mildness, "that I am not so ignorant as you think: there are eleven." "Eleven!" answered the ecclesiastic; "very well, tell me the eleventh, and I give you all the help you need." "Here it is," replied the Archbishop; "A new commandment give I unto you, that ye love one another," John xiii. 34.

ENVY.

WHEN a statue had been erected to Theogenes, a celebrated victor in one of the public games of Greece, by his fellow-citizens of Thasos, we are told that it excited so strongly the envious hatred of one of his rivals, that he went to it every night, and endeavoured to throw it down by repeated blows, till at last, unfortunately successful, he was crushed to death beneath its fall. This, if we consider the self-consuming misery of envy, is truly what happens to every envious He may, perhaps, throw down his rival's glory, but he is crushed in his soul beneath the glory which he overturns.

man.

TAKE CARE OF THE TONGUE. WHEN Zeno was undergoing torture by the order of Nearchus, in order to compel him to disclose the names of those who had united with him in a plan to deliver his country from tyranny, for fear his courage should fail, he bit off his own tongue. Many a man makes a far worse use of his tongue. Many a man, at the day of judgment, will wish that he had been born deaf and dumb.

How few adopt the good rule of Bishop Beveridge-not to speak in dispraise of one who is absent, nor in praise of one who is present. "The Lord will cut off all flattering lips," as well as all slanderous tongues.

David calls his tongue his "glory." Let not your tongue be your shame.

When Latimer, on his first examination, heard the pen of the notary running behind the curtain, he was very careful what he said, knowing that he must meet it on his final trial. Every sinful word you utter, even every idle word, is written, and will appear as evidence against you on your last trial-your trial on the day of eternal judgment.

DR. JOHNSON'S OPINION OF JOHN
WESLEY.

DR. JOHNSON evidently liked what he saw of John Wesley during several opportunities. He said, "John Wesley's conversation is good, but he is never at leisure. He is always obliged to go at a certain hour. This is very disagreeable to a man who likes to fold his legs, and have out his talk, as I do." Again, he said, "He can talk well on any subject." And he afterwards gave Boswell a note of introduction to Wesley, "because" (he says in the note itself) "I think it very much to be wished that worthy and religious men should be acquainted with each other."

PHENOMENA OF THE BRAIN.

ONE of the most inconceivable things in the nature of the brain is, that the organ of sensation should itself be insensible. To cut the brain gives no pain, yet in the brain alone resides the power of feeling pain in any other part of the body. If the nerve which leads from it to the injured part be divided, it becomes instantly unconscious of suffering. It is only by communication with the brain that any kind of sensation is produced, yet the organ itself is insensible. But there is a circumstance more wonderful still. The brain itself may be removed, may be cut away down to the corpus calaram, without destroying life. The animal lives and performs all its functions which are necessary to simple vitality, but no longer has a mind; it cannot think or feed; it requires that the food should be pushed into its stomach; once there, it is digested, and the animal will even thrive and grow fat. We infer, therefore, that the part of the brain, the convolutions, is simply intended for the exercise of the intellectual faculties, whether of the low degree called instinct, or the exalted kind bestowed on man, the gift of reason.-Wagan on the Mind.

VOICE OF WISDOM AND AGE. PERMIT me finally to add, that, in my apprehension, the best way to be useful and happy in this life is to cultivate the domestic affections, to love home, and at the same time to exercise a benevolent disposition towards others; to be temperate and just; to pursue lawful business, whatever it may be, with diligence, firmness, and integrity of purpose, and in the perfect belief that honesty is equally binding in the discharge of public as of private trusts; for when public morals are destroyed, public liberty cannot survive.

If we are aspiring, we ought not to lose our diffidence; and if ardent for reforms, we ought not to lose our discretion. We ought to listen

to the maxims of experience, and respect the advice and institutions of our ancestors; and, above all, we ought to have a constant and abiding sense of the superintending goodness of that Almighty Being whose wisdom shines equally in his works and in his word, and whose presence is every where sustaining and governing the universe.-Chancellor Kent.

DEAD BONES PREACH.

THE bones of departed friends, sleeping in the dust, may well preach to the living. Enter the graveyards, walk among the tombs, commune with the ashes of the dead, ye who are worldly, volatile, and gay. Ye may there hear sermons replete with wisdom.

He

Human bones, however, are not here intended, but those of a horse. A young man, of a philosophical and sceptical turn of mind, wandered away on a Sabbath morning in summer. walked down the bank of a small river, and then into a grove of trees, and when in the vicinity of a farm-house he came to a collection of bones. He took up some of them in his hands. He compared them with each other in respect to length, size, and structure. This joint, that socket, and that head of a bone attracted his deep and admiring attention. What wisdom, what evident design, what adaptation of one to another, what benevolent use in respect to motion and strength! Surely there is a God, nor is this a work of chance. When this young man was admitted to the church, as a penitent believer in Christ, he said, "These bones of a horse preached to me the loudest sermon that I ever heard."

MATERNAL INFLUENCE. THERE are at least three millions of mothers in the United States. These mothers, aside from older children, have, it is supposed, between two and three hundred thousand infants under their charge. No influence, at present, can reach these infant minds but that of a mother. These minds may be moulded at the will or discretion of these mothers. If this army of mothers should combine to accomplish any given object, what might they not do! If every mother should imitate the example of Hannah of old, and consecrate her infant to the service of the Lord, what could withstand such a moral influence ? And yet from these infants are to come the rulers, the judges, the ministers, and all the influence, either for good or evil, which is to sway the destinies of the nation!

MALLEUS DOMINI.

"Is not my word, saith the Lord, like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces?"-JER. xxiii. 29.

Sledge of the Lord, beneath whose stroke
The rocks are rent, the heart is broke,

I hear thy pond'rous echoes ring,
And fall, a crush'd and crumbled thing.

Meekly these mercies I implore,
Through Him whose cross our sorrows bore:
On earth thy new-creating grace,
In heaven the very lowest place.

Oh! might I be a living stone,
Set in the pavement of thy throne:
For sinner saved, what place so meet,
As at the Saviour's bleeding feet?
G. W. D.

THE subject of this memoir was one whom to know, was to love; for in him was combined, in a more than ordinary degree, high-toned spirituality of mind with an entire consecration of personal service to the cause of the Redeemer. John King, jun., was born at Ovington, Essex, April 9th, 1815. To him was granted the honour of being descended from ancestors who, through several succeeding generations, had sustained, whether in prosperity or adversity, the interests of religion in connection with the Congregational Church, at Clare, Suffolk.

In his early days, robust health and an amiable disposition were associated with indications of considerable mental power, with decision of character, and, above all, with moral perceptions so clear and full, that the usual failings of childhood and youth were in him seldom manifested. As he advanced towards maturity, the enlarged expectations of his family were realized. He grew up active, intelligent, prudent, and moral.

It was not, however, until about the twentythird year of his age that he evinced any satisfactory indications of religious thoughtfulness; and the circumstances which, in the order of means, elicited the spark of divine life within well deserve record. Naturally benevolent, he had for some time witnessed, with sorrow, the neglected condition of the children in a neighbouring village. Although its inhabitants possessed the advantage of a small chapel, statedly supplied with the Gospel, yet no direct effort had been made to bring the young under religious instruction. They grew up ignorant and depraved. He determined to attempt their reformation, and commenced his labours by inviting as many children as he could conveniently teach, to meet him every Sunday morning in the chapel. Thus originated the Sundayschool at Stoke-by-Clare; a school which, after the lapse of four or five years, under his patient, enlightened, and devoted superintendency, contained more than two hundred scholars.

Whilst employed so beneficially, there is reason to believe, from his own acknowledgment, that religious principle was not the prompting motive of his efforts. But whatever might have been the character of the motive, his position as a teacher of religious truth required an amount of scriptural knowledge which he was conscious he did not possess. He therefore resolved to study the Bible, for the purpose of attaining a competent acquaintance with its histories, facts, and doctrines. Business prevented the appropriation of any portion of the day to this work; he consequently determined to devote to it his evenings; and for several consecutive weeks he sat up, long after midnight, pondering over the Divine Word. Nor could the winter's cold repress the ardour of his spirit: but, wrapped in a blanket, he would brave the severest weather, rather than lose the muchprized opportunity for thought.

This unremitted study, following and succeeded by the active duties of the day, sufficed to undermine his constitution. A severe attack of ague was the consequence of transgressing the rules of health, and from its effects he never

entirely recovered. But though the body suffered, the mind eminently profited. His moral sense coming into immediate and continued contact with the truth, was gradually excited to perceive and feel its importance. The subject of personal religion was evolved out of its consideration. The great question, "What are my prospects for eternity?" was iterated by an awakened conscience. Consideration prompted prayer, earnest, continued prayer, for a personal interest in the great salvation. And now the natural decision of his character came to the help of religious decision. Conviction was not impeded by a trifling spirit. He felt, that here to trifle, might be death. Surrendering himself, therefore, without hesitation, to the impulses of the Holy Spirit, he unconditionally accepted, for pardon and eternal life, the atonement of Jesus. The language of his heart and lips was, "Lord! I will be thine."

We are now prepared to hear that his labourз amongst his little flock, reinforced by intelligent personal piety, were still more abundant and efficient. In the spirit and with the motto of Paul, "The love of Christ constraineth me," he resolved to leave no means untried to win the children of his charge to Christ. Enfeebled health was not allowed to urge its plea for relaxation of effort. As though he felt the sentence of death in himself, and that it was to be executed shortly, he pursued with increased zeal his service of love. He was soon permitted to reap some of the fruits of past toil. Amongst many instances of usefulness, the following may be adduced as an illustration of the devoted regard entertained towards him by his scholars. Not a great while before his removal from his school, one of his eldest and earliest scholars was stricken with consumption. She was visited by her teacher with untiring assiduity. As she approached the end of her course, his anxiety with respect to her final state became intense. With beseeching earnestness he pressed upon her attention the solemn realities of eternity, and entreated her to tell him the state of her mind. So much of hesitation and doubt were mingled with her replies, that he felt greatly discouraged. Shortly after this visit she grew worse, and it was evident that a few more hours would terminate her course. It was night; but the sufferer could not be satisfied until she had again seen her teacher. He was sent for, and came without delay. As he entered the room, his form was distinguished by the glazing eye, ere he himself could speak. He approached the bed-side. Rallying the feeble remnant of her strength, she started up, stretched out her wasted arms, and, bending forward, pillowed her head upon his breast. Thus supported, in tones of most intense satisfaction, she whispered, "Now I can die." Though deeply affected by this manifestation of grateful affection, the anxiety of her teacher was not allayed, until the reserve, under which had been buried the secret emotions of the dying girl's heart, was broken up by the consciousness of speedy dissolution. Then was elicited the cheering fact, that she had for several months secretly felt and loved the truth; but the fear of self-deception had prompted her,

hitherto, to withhold the full expression of her hopes. "Now," she said, "I dare tell you that I do love the Saviour. Blessed Jesus! Come !" Then, in the arms of her kind friend, she died. He laid her reverently down; returned home; thanked God, and took courage.

When any of the elder children left the school to go out to service, he would visit them previously to their departure; counsel them; give them a suitable book; obtain their address, and occasionally write to them the most appropriate letters. The sum of their contents was, uniformly, "My little children, of whom I travail in birth again until Christ be formed in you." This plan of keeping up his connection with the scholars was carried on until the close of his career. One of these epistles was written to a young woman, who, after her retirement from the school, pursued a course injurious to her reputation. Shortly after its reception she was laid upon the bed of sickness. There she called to remembrance the faithful remonstrances of her former teacher, and wept bitterly over her folly. Consciousness of aggravated guilt overwhelmed her. Hope fled, and she languished out her life, retaining in her grasp the memorial of her absent friend's interest in her welfare.

In the year 1814, a new sphere of usefulness opened before him. The number of officers of the church with which he stood connected having, by death, been reduced to two, by the unanimous vote of the Society, he was elected to occupy one of the vacancies. Associated with his beloved father, the senior deacon, he undertook the supervision of that section of the members more immediately committed to their charge. Two evenings in the week were usually devoted to the discharge of his new duties, independently of the time consumed by incidental visits. His activity infused new energy into the church. The members were induced to attend more frequently and regularly the week-evening services, whilst, at the same time, the churchmeetings became a more complete representation of the whole body. The simple pathos of his supplications at the prayer-meetings was well calculated to revive devotional feeling.

In his visits to members of the church, he frequently came into contact with unconverted branches of the household. These he could not overlook. To the children he would speak in his own kind manner; to those of more mature years he was accustomed to address a word of counsel; so that, at his departure, the most conciliatory impression remained. More than once has some little child been heard to say, "Mother, I like Mr. King;" and, under a similar influence, persons altogether indifferent to religion have been constrained to express their respect for his character.

Having held his honourable office for little more than a year, he removed to Upminster. His activity in this new sphere of Christian effort speedily attracted the attention of the church in that village, now under the care of the Rev. T. Joseph, and he was requested to undertake the superintendency of their Sundayschool. After that church became settled with its present pastor, our friend was elected one of their deacons.

He was a man of enlarged views and a large heart. The societies formed for the extension of the Gospel, whether at home or abroad, were VOL. VII.

highly esteemed and liberally sustained. If he had any preference, it was in favour of the London Missionary Society, whose noble design so entirely accorded with the aspirations of his own heart. Whatever the pressure of his usual avocations, his affairs were always so arranged as to leave him at liberty to attend its annual meetings in London.

The CHRISTIAN WITNESS and the CHRISTIAN PENNY MAGAZINE were great favourites with him. When the latter made its appearance, he said, "This is just what is wanted." With a number of it in his pocket, he would go forth to discharge his usual round of visits; show it to the people; expatiate upon its excellency and cheapness; frequently read an extract; and conclude with urging them to take it regularly. A list of nearly fifty subscribers is the best evidence of the success which attended his efforts.

In connection with his religious history, there is one fact, the relation of which, for the sake of others, ought not to be omitted. So humbling were the views he entertained of himself, that several years elapsed, from the period of his conversion, before he could be induced to unite himself to any Christian society. This neglect of a known duty was, in after times, a source of great regret. He confessed that it had proved a considerable hinderance to his spiritual profit and enjoyment, and, occasionally, had so depressed his mind, as to prompt the idea of altogether retiring from the field of active religious profession. He was likewise subjected to many spiritual hallucinations; amongst others, he was tempted to impugn the authenticity of the Scriptures, and the validity of the Atonement. To counteract the influence of these baneful ideas, he devoted himself to a course of reading on the "Evidences of Christianity," by Dr. Doddridge. With these lectures he associated the works of Drs. Wardlaw and Jenkyn in the Atonement. His study, however, availed but little to relieve his mind. In the midst of the conflict an event occurred which influenced him to take the step so long delayed. A representation was made to him, that a young person who had derived spiritual benefit through his instrumentality, had pleaded his example as a reason for not making a public profession of service to Christ. He at once perceived his false position, and, without further hesitation, joined himself to the Independent Church at Clare, Suffolk. Henceforward all his sceptical doubts departed. The strife in his own breast was ended; the enemies of his peace were restrained; calmness and glaḍness reigned in his heart.

During the last five years of his life he was subject to repeated attacks of indigestion, which at length so greatly deranged his system as to induce a bilious fever. From this illness he had scarcely recovered, when, through premature attendance to business, it was succeeded by an attack of typhus fever. His strength was now so entirely prostrated, as to preclude all prospect of his recovery. He was considered a dying man; he thought so himself. In the prospect of death he enjoyed a delightful composure of thought. When asked whether all was calm within?" Yes," he replied, "I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day." To the different members of the family he spoke with deep

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