prince in its favour. A review of the A review of the many interviews of its members with royalty would form a chapter of great interest, both in the early annals of the Society and in later years. They sought not place or preferment, or any of those outward advantages which the great ones of the earth could have conferred on a people lowly, and in many instances, persecuted and despised. Their pleadings were for liberty of conscience-for redressing of the wrongs inflicted on their peaceful and innocent co-religionists—and also frequently they stood before the rulers of the earth to plead for the great principles of peace and freedom, and universal brotherhood-and to denounce many of the usages legalised by this and other nations. Their motto might have been "Truth Exalted."

In such an illustrious presence as William Penn's, calumny stands abashed; heroic in action, tender in feeling, a warm friend in prosperity, a fearless defender in the dark hour of ruin; alike unimpeachable in public and in private life, he occupies no dubious niche in the temple of fame. Around his memory floats a halo of traditionary splendour, fondly cherished alike by the civilised white man, and the rude denizen of the forest; but better far than this, his name is written in the "Book of Life," and will be remembered in the day when the Lord "maketh up His jewels."

While the extravagant Peans of applause which attend the proud march of the conqueror quickly subside into censure or neglect, the memory of the noble dead falls on the heart like a stream of Æolian melody. Time, instead of diminishing, only gives an increased splendour to their fame, and a wider illustration to the sacred impulses which influenced their lives. To these unchronicled heroes the world gives neither applause in life, nor a storied monument in death; but their deeds will be engraven on the hearts,

and embalmed in the affections of the wise and the good throughout all coming time.

Bright amid the rôle of illustrious names which have become as household words amongst us, stands that of the devoted and saintly Elizabeth Fry. Nurtured in luxury, and surrounded by all the appliances and fascination of wealth, she descended from her high position to make herself acquainted with the gloomy mysteries of fortalice and prison, and proved how measureless are the powers of kindness when, breathing a new spirit into those doleful regions, she shed over the hearts of the desolate and despairing the divine ray of feminine sympathy and love.

In these abodes of moral and social degradation, where self-respect and decency, faith in God and hope in man, had long been forgotten things, she controlled and undulated the surges of human passion, and touched the heart as a familiar instrument, eliciting tones of harmony where all before had been discord. and confusion. When we think of her sweet but stately presence, her benign countenance, her melodious voice, falling with a tender and spiritual pathos on the hearts her love had won, what marvel is it that she appeared to them only a little lower than the angels, as she bridged over with a rainbow arch of hope and promise the awful gulf which separated them from a Heavenly Father's love? What marvel is it that, as she expounded the parable of the repentant Prodigal, on many a quivering lip should have vibrated the response, "I will arise, and go to my Father"? Who shall estimate the value of these merciful reunions-these festivals of charity? Only in the great day, when all secrets shall be made manifest, will the glorious results be fully known. Interesting and instructive from every point of view is the study of such a character. We stand with sympathising hearts beside her, when, in her youthful day, with the

world's allurements lingering on her memory, she pauses in solemn self-examination, and resolves that, with the help of the Lord, she will dedicate her life to His service. We gaze on her with admiration when, with devoted courage, she adventures her foot on a path untrodden by female heroism; but we clasp her to our affections as a sister beloved when, having overcome evil with good, she distrusts the subtle influences of that cloud of incense which is wafted around her, and, turning away from the plaudits of an admiring multitude, she merely supplicates for "grace to give the praise where all is ever due!"

But the time would fail to speak of the noble band, all having an indestructible family likeness, and sealed with the sign-manual of a Hand Divine, who have moved to and fro in the earth, scattering precious seed: from William Allen-the wise and the good, the patron of science, and the friend of education, to whose incessant labours in the sacred cause of human progress we give a wondering tribute of admiration,-down to the aged pilgrim William Forster, who, from youth to age, prodigal of love to God and service to mankind, now sleeps his last sleep far away amid the vast solitudes of the West. Around this gentle and devout spirit gather a host of tender and reverential memories. Resigning the fair cornucopia of domestic enjoyment, he went forth, in the evening of his day, a noble pleader in the cause of humanity, and spent his last remnant of strength in a noble effort to bring up the long-delayed arrears of justice and equity towards his brother-man !

"Oh friend, oh brother, not in vain thy life so calm and true,

The silver dropping of the rain, the fall of summer-dew! How many burdened hearts have prayed their lives like thine might be?

But more shall pray henceforth for aid to lay them down like thee.

As on thy task-field, closed the day in golden-skied decline, An angel met thee on the way, and lent his arm to thine; Thy latest care for man, thy last of earthly thought, a prayer, Oh, who thy mantle, backward cast, is worthy now to wear?"

There is a solemn teaching in the lives of these faithful exponents of great truths to which we shall do well to take heed. To us individually may not belong the controlling energy of a great mind; it may not be ours to give a new impulse to the religious life of our time, but doubtless we all have our mission. Some amid the linked harmonies of the home circle; some amid the activities and charities of public effort; but of this we may be sure, that wherever sorrow demands our sympathy or poverty our aid; wherever abuse calls for reform, or oppression for redress; wherever virtue needs encouragement, or vice calls for repression,there will be found an exercise for the noblest functions of our nature.

The mind of human progress is not yet brought out -the iron prejudices of the past have to be combated with weapons from an armoury Divine; the bands of unhallowed social usage to be severed, the winged messages of Truth to be scattered abroad, the avenues of vice to be closed up, the hundred-leaved portals of enlightenment to be thrown open, the world to be evangelised! A light rests upon the future; faithful to the talent committed to our trust let us prove our allegiance to the cause of truth by helping on, according to our measure, the meridian of that day of which we behold the dawn; and then, whether our talent be the one or the many, we shall in due time receive the heavenly salutation, "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."

SARAH H. STEEVENS.

THINGS WHICH DIFFER.

BY JONATHAN GRUBB.

Is there not

PART I.

a difference between a Religious Society" and a Christian Church"? And have we not suffered loss by making them identical?

These questions must be followed by another,What is, or ought to be, the ground of membership in a Christian Church?

I propose to consider the last question first, and if I have come toa correct conclusion upon it, the two former will be virtually answered.

I reply-certainly not the accidental, or rather providential circumstances of birth and parentage; certainly not the entertaining certain correct views and opinions; certainly not the most strict and rigid adoption of, and adherence to, a prescribed system of manners, as regards attire, language, and nonconformity to the customary usages of polite society; certainly not a severe asceticism, a self-inflicted humiliation, a perpetual outward manifestation of a heavy burden and a grievous yoke.

My replies have thus far been in the negative, because I apprehend that most candid readers will admit the above grounds to have very largely influenced us in the admission of members to the fellowship of our Church the two former I apprehend are still the chief, and I fear often, the only grounds on which members are added to our ranks; the two latter are now seen to involve a ritualism in the one case, and a sort of penance in the other, altogether opposed to the