Ot gamily eittit. NEARER ROME. BY PIICEBE CARET. One sweetly solemn thought Comes to me o'er and o'er; I'm nearer home to-day Than I ever have been before; Nearer my Father's house, Where the many mansions be; Nearer the great white throne, Nearer the crystal sea; Nearer the bound of life, Where we lay our burdens down`; Nearer leaving the cross, Nearer gaining the crown But lying darkly between, Windrng down through the night, Is the silent, unknown stream. That leads at last to the light. Closer and closer my steps Come to the *load abysm Closer death to-my lips Presses the awful tprism. Oh, if ray mortal feet Have almost gained the brink, lilt be, Lait nearer home Even to-day than-I think. Father, perfect my trust ; Letmy spirit feel in death' That ler feet are firmly set On the rock of a living faith THE WORSTED STOOKINq., "Father ; will have done the great- chim ney to-night, won't he, mother?" said little Tom Howard, as he stood waiting for , his father's breakfast, which he carried to him at his work every morning. "He said he hoped all the 'Scaffolding would be down . to-night,".. answered his mother : "and that'll be a fine .Sight: for I never like- the 'ending of thaegreat chim neys, it's so risky. Thy father's to. be the lastetip.." - " Eb, then, but I'll go and 'see . hiln; *and help 'em to give a shout afore ,he conies down," said Tom. "And then," adnfitiued'hislaiother, " if all goes right, we are to have a frolic to-mor row, and go into the country, and take our dinners, and spend all the day amongst the woods." " Hurrah !" cried Tom, as he ran off to his father's plaee of work, with 'a can of milk in one hand, and some bread in the other. His mother stood at the door watching him as he went merrily whistling down the street; and then she thought of the dear father he was going, to, and the dangerous work he was engaged in; and then her heart. sought its .sure refuge; and she prayed to God to protect and bless her treasures. Tom, with light heart pursUed his way to bis father, and, leaving him his breakfast, went to his own work, which was at some distance. In the evening, on his way home, he went , . l round to - see how's fattier vias'getting on. James . Howard, the father, apd,a number of other workmen, had been building one . of those lofty chimneys, Which, in our great manufacturing, towns, tamest supply the place of architect Ural beauty. This chim ney was ono of therhighest and Inost taper ing that' had ever - been' erected; and as Torn, shading his eyes • film the 'Slanting rays ofthe setting sun, looked up to the top in search of his father, his heartalmost ii s ,tik. within him at the appalling ,sight..- The scaffolding was almost all down: the men at the bottom were removing the last beams and poles. Tom's father stood alone on the t0p:45 . --rfodked allotrou: I ..z see that 0 1 / 4„.. everyttliby } was rightf;' rikkiAj'K'. „waving his hat..ln'the, air; t6e`nieci7bei M., i - , wered him r- Wi thti ' - liofg,--I , s#4:":fter - ; .i . : Tom shoMugis.,.hearqfj‘e it.ity)aptlijvn: As i thetr , Vdrekilie awfiyi-huivrer,-they. `i card a v erY 'd ifferen &an (I . 4a!!,:ed - Or 'MY • and horC6F4Vaiiik% ..-=-•-,_ ...v --, .•.:: ... --,:: 1 7") ' " Tlfest/Spe ! di - kr - Ore 1":, T.49,A4P,Pck4Ok rclhu,,,drali;d-- - 44 . _,,,,i - le ' pen the groundp , lar_the rope, 'Ail -- -- aiN , ': `•re the scaf folding was removed,. should have been passed over ' ilie'lbp''af the 'chi niney for Tom's father . to come dow*hyl 'The :scaf folding Lad been taking down without their remembering to take the rope up.- There was a dead, silence. They, all knew Wives impossible to throw the rope up high enough or skilfully enough to reach the top of the chimney; or, if it could, it would hardly have been safe. They stood in , silent dis may; unable to give any help, or think. of any means of safety. _ . 'And Tom's father!! He walked round and round the little circle on 'the dizzy height, seemin g every moment to grnw . more 'fear ful, and the solid earth` -farther, and farther from him. In the sudden pai ic . he ldsChis presence of .mind, and his senses alniost tailed him. He shut his eyes; he felt as if, the next, -,moment, be mast be, dashed to piecei on the ground - below. The day had passed as industriously and swiftly as usual.with Tom's mother at home. She was always busily employed for her husband and 'cliiiirroriln'sarne *a for other; and to,day she, had. beeu harder'at. Work than usual, getting ready fo; the holiday to-morrow. She had just finished all . .her preinkrations, and her thoughts weresifently thanking God for her happy home; and for all the blessings of life, when Tom ran in : his face was is white as ashes ..and he could hardly get. his Words out, 5 " 'nether, mother ! ho canna get down !" said'Tom. Who, lad ?—thy father?" asked his mother. • - " They've . forgotten to leave him the rope," answered Tom; still Scarcely- able to speak. His mother started up; horror-struck, and stood for a moment as if paralyzed; then, preaßing her hands over her face as if to shut dut the r terrible picture, and :breathing aprayer to-'God 'for help, she rushed out of the hods°. THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, MARCH 12, 1868. When she reached the place where her husband was at work, a crowd had collected round the foot of the chimney, and stood there quite helpless, gazing up with faces full of horror. " He says he'll throw himself down l" ex claimed they as Mrs. Howard carne up. " He's going to throw himself down I" "Thee munna do that, lad l" cried the wife, with a clear hopeful voice; "thee munna do that. Wait a bit. Tak' off thy stocking, lad, and unravel it, and let down the thread with a bit of mortar. Dost hear me, Jem?" The man made a sign of assent;—for it seemed as if he could not speak;-and, tak ing off his stocking, unravelled the' worsted thread, row after row. The people stood round in breathless silence AO suApense, wondering what Nom'.,s,, mother coukl, be thinking of, and why, she sent is such haste for the carpenters.ball of twine.. "Let down one end of.the_pare)d with - a bit. of stone, and , k.eep fait kierl of.the O . flier ?" cried. She to toy, husband. e • ' The little thread came waving the tall chirorrey; 'hith€9;' - iad t thither by the wind ; but it laat, gii4ied:. the out stretched - that were waiting, „for it. Tom .lield w the ball of string i rphire 'his mother tied one-:end !of it tootne , worsted thread. ' ' "Now pull it up slowly!" erjed'she to her husband ; -; an she gradu I . llx 11,itryirptRatt the string as the worsted - . rew it: gently up. :It stopped.: the' string had , eeaohed her hus band: n- • ;- • • No* bold. the Itrine"fast, and' lull it up !" cried - she: and the string grew heavy, and hard, to pull; for Tom Audi his mother had fastened the thick rope to it. They watched it gradually and slowly uncoili from the ground as the string was traWn higher.' There was_bu i t one coil left. It had rettehed - the 6 4 5. " Thank God! thank God r exclaimed the wife. She hid her face. in her hands in 'silent prayer, and, trembling, rejoica , - The lien to which it should be fa§tene - d was there all right. But, would her. husbaridAe. ajoile, make use of them ? Would norAttgllerior of the east' hour, have se` =unnerved titin as to" pihvent hith fidth theliecessary measures for his safety 7 She aktnotliiiow the magic influence which her few words had exercised over him. She did noilknoW the strength that the sound of her voice, so caltii and steadfast, hadlilled him with; as if the little thread that earried him the hope of life once more had conveyedlo him some portion of that faith in God which nothing ever destroyed or shook in her true heart. She did not know, that, as he waited there, the words came over hAth,77...„.,„„5, " Why art thou east do . wn; O - my soul? and why art thou disquieted. within .me? Hope thou in God." She:VW". up her„ heart.to,..God i fox i hope and'sfrefigth. .She Vonld do nothing more for her husband; and her heart turned to God, and rested on him as on a rock. - There was a ,great -Caput " He's safe, -inothea-1` he's safe lu - tried lit 'tie. Tom. ; "-Thou'et saved me; Mary I" said her husband, folding her in his arms ," But what'ails thee? ou. seemes more.,sorry than'glad about - it' But , Mary could nttl§prdrcZetad, - ,if" . ;the strong arm of heihusband,..hid..not heid her up, she would have fallen to the ground; the `sudden oy tatetrAtitilgreal::fefir;inad; bver come her. ' Tom," said 'hisfatter, "letkthy'inather lean 6, thy "shoulder, and we-will take Alid in their happy home they poured forth thdir'Abtinlis (-to GOV for His great goodness ;.'and - their'keipptlite7. - ,Effefti.o Alt deitrdr arid. bolierfhr thei -been in, and Tat Veal - at had brought'item kvaday nexuday—aNft's Friat; , indeedz, a thatiNgiv -ing day ?—Sunday school Magazine... , • THE PIGEON'S ADVIOE:I-,,, "I shall 41evei knbw this long "reason," said George Nelson. "I wish there were no such books, then I vimiltletihaVe filet les sons from the_ril•?, adj. -717Arfiat'if tire' milk-ter, - George ras K. his grandma, 'who at that .'ng olnent'entered the "rO, this lesson, grandma. I'm ~sure - can't get it. Just look ! both, of these long columns, and I'ston't " Well, never mind that; you.:* - Will soon know every word of it if you try right hard. And then', only think how much more You will know. than you do , ;now! I wonder if my white pigeon conlan't help you to get your lesson?" " Your pigeon, - grandma, Ldidn't know you had any pigeons." "No, I havn't now. but when I wast a very little girl my brother had a pair of beautiful white pigeons presented to him. He told me I might call one of them:mine. They were both . very tame r and , they would eat corn from oar hands.' What pleaded Us both was, that they seemed to know us 134, for my brother's .pigeon would , go and take corn out of, his hand, while 'Mine, always came to me. Well, I was going to tell you, how,mine helped me to get my lessons. "Did it real ly help - yon,, grandma?" - . ." Yes; and I think it will helpyon jU7st as it did me." I'm sure, I wish it would ; for thig.ig'-a very hard lesson." His grandma smiled, a,s she continued : " One morning I was sitting near the win dow trying to get my, spelling lesson. It seemed so long, and the .words looked so . - hard, I was sure I could not learn it. I sat there a long while, wishing I lin'e* it, 60 that - I could run' bai• and play. Tha.sin was shining bright, and it looked*so pleasant out.of doors. All at once I saw my pigeon fly up to its house, and then in a short time, •iuflew down again to the street. I watched 16'8 - no what it doing. It picked ip 'a piece of straw and flew up as it had done before, and then returned to get another. It did so for a long time." " It was building its nest, wasn't it, grand ma?" asked George. " Yes, sometimes it would fly up with a little piece of straw, and sometimes it picked up quite long pieces, and when it would get about hslf way up to the window the straw would drop down, said then, it Would go - right down after it and pick it up Ilgian r saw it try to get one 'piece up three times, and the third time it reached the window safely. Just then my eyes fell on my book. There was no lesson yet. How much my pigeon had done while I had been doingagothing,7l ,thotlght, to myself, and yet, it took only` one straw at a time. My le son did not seem near so long as .it did-at first. In a few moments, ' I knew the wholeof it." "MY lesson - looks easier arre'ally, grandma. I shall only have to dearn one word at a time, and I'll soon know all of them." Geoige set to work in gootl. oarnest ;_ and but *„ . iii afal, take ' fri'ad :pasta tillhe'l aird 4eßril .l f itiierfectt -;ly.; —7 ;*-4 _4Y di 4 , :il "N w, George," said his grandma, after ward, ‘c do you think you will remember the pigeon's advice?" : " 0,., am sure I shall," he replied, laugh ing, " and when I come to the longest words, I'lli dd 3€kthe ' fiyebil ,diii.iv.hen f/hei. tifraw fell—l'll, try them again !"—Pacific Church man. I 4 It : v jconEß'S yam= ,12.4 : 1 Did ydu nevertoiter , beind4your mother's stand in the old family kitchen? Perhaps it f _;!?verktoked 311.0' lieavifur v v • all'lX of - ire slo7 : 7)4flißg pOp e eti eut, m., nwnothei's did. Pi& you never loiter beside that little charnged " work-table" of a winter evening; 'arid tatitis - 614fliokering 1116216'6f ilidt -- Well reme ered candle, and trace the outlines orkoli' owe': cht:disk image 2n Its '.l4frois il blaze?' )IL .A.rid when the door was suddenly, opened nd shut, did .you_ not please your childish fancy, watching the flickerings of that plant fl e, as it bait anflawayedllike it;t.itery, - o,gi 4g soff:4 i W 557364 3, ,current that c. He in? are some of our ,early recollections h 4 diSh asciationsnonn'etted with the Such' and oh kitche I candle. j . Ano thing we remenTher was, that when 'e took our candle to Might ouselves ,to bed ' e were sometimes so thoughtlessas -to pine i the fife orr the Smoking *lac: after •we had blown out•the blarze. Insuch cases we U 8 0 ally got : a sharp ..burn !between the thumb and finger, and .a pair of famous black s ottfto match thorn. .A.ndl3onietimes it happ ned. tbat, the, thumb and finger be came tspographic,al during the night, and left' thejr inlipiint union the sheet, not alto gether to thesatisfaction: of the dear woman we caAbd " filo - the!" who. sat so late at the kitchen stand, by the old granite hearth- Stone,. 41ending ont jackets and darning our socks. ' ' .: '., . , . ; : , .. You' smile at the mention of 'these recol lection& So do - I, often, at ttiPiliought of them. But som,etiines , l.weep, too, that the pleas t autecenes they pieture will never come again tome - fesweei, reality, for' the earliest and sweetest aching of my heart is:l-Waken ed,viliien I think.of.them. A:id:tears of F,3adnessAoo, have wet my eheek, , that soinetinies, too, in those days of headstrong haste, I grieved those faithful guardians of my youth. And . yet, other tears of sadness I leave sometimes 'shed in zo.ouri3ful; selfishness that Ishall never, once acriq,p this side,* trav,e, behold the loving eyes that looked so citt , with - me into the b lake,, of ttb at, ii nfor rr gotte• can die: , : - I , forgo t, in my sorrow, that they' are bappy,for they are gone above, the parents and some of the children. But...what. wonder if we, of the narrowing circle, sometimes do forget our selves arid:sigh `rriauri3fiilLy; ati we behold in the glass our gathering wrinkles, and feel the, multiplied infirmitiescr to 114:-, JOHNNY REED'S gORTIINES. "Little boy, will you hold my horse for me a .few , nwments ,< Such were the Ovoids thata, kind voice ad, dress.e_d_ ~Jobnny,Reed,..as he mod _agafnsf4...the',Nall 'WTI him* in Chestnut street one cold winter morning; Johnny came and held the horse, yl l yile the gentleman entered a large store close by. Johnny yvs . „ver_y,willifig,to,hold the, hors., 'for' iligjhopedAlieegentlernair a few cents f'or doing so; and to tell the truth,.Tohriffy - was both cold and hungry. Thii was no wonder when you hear that he haltilvd t :riaaaillAtsoet ( tih r is r -Vnoificiiii and it was nowlten o'clock. Ilis mother was sick mud had no.money to buy bread,and , Jsilinnywastoi) ychiffg and too shabbyt;o:be abletto' Proourl'i,C.M.PlPYP, l 94.t:t.. -, , ilt however, when th,e, gentleman came out - gild' 'handed - ‘sirialkhote . .Ser v i ces. . -. Johnny was running_ away to buy a loitf of bread, when . the gentleman, who had been sSulr,clc. - 431 stopped him. Wait; where are you going.? ..;Whatzare s Yne 'going t 9 .d9 , w44 have got it ".I am .goin g 16 .1114 some Bread, sir, - " e plied Johnny, honeStly:'; PliaVenti,•,-had any breakfast this morning;:yet." " Wh4t - i§.:YonY ner4e, live ?" again inspiredtbegentlemaN with a glistening - eye. ", "Johnny Reed, 'sir, and 'Plive.dOiitivrOund the.corner there aslittle•sway," said-heospoint inein the 'direction, " in A--: 7 court;". "Have'you a mother or father ?" sgain asked the stranger. "0 yes, sir; I have a mother, and she hasn't had. anything either," said Johnny; " let me go and get her something." "I will go with- ou," said the genpenian, le t tjmesiattend,ito here° He did sOj- and then. .tolloweds-44:nny his It'sids dieelied`lesMation —no fire, no food, and Mrs. Reed was pale and trembling in her bed from cold and sickness. What the gentleman could do to relieve her was soon done; and when a warm fire blazing on the hearth, and Johnny bad brought his mother some tea and bread, sbe told her story. The gentleman was wealthy and kind hearted ; moreover, 'he was a Christian, and regarded himself as only a steward of his Lord, to use his goods for his glory. He took care that Mrs. Reed, after this, had no lack of comforts or med ical advice; and when she recovered, be found employment for her in his own house- , hold. He 'found useful - in various _ways, and, becoming interested with him, he -sent him to school, and when he was of a suitable age,-he !procured for. him-an ex cellent situation in the bank iu Which he was a director. Thus Johnny Was enablad to support his mother comfortably; and daily "the blessing of * them that were ready to perish" was upon . I:)inaefactor.—.B. S. Visitor. HOW A MINISTER CONQUERED; OULTI ES. The difficulties fatteinding. a-minister, and Tll7b7grriMemlrlifbthstirrniff,"MiliniEler, better illustrated than inihis account of the' 'firi l t, settliinefit of DT. Way l a tt ila fiquid in his biography, vol. v, pp. 129-131: Tke i minprity r were _determined to.make' up L in'itdtiVity - and - pdAitriclnCe what they latiked in nambers: :%Ancihymous letters had, ;beep written:to a.former pastor,- of unusually sensitive spirit, with,much supepss., _He, had taken them into the pulpit and read them in pUblip,sho*ing tOthe'writeri'hew deeply their tihott4 itall'taken effect.' Similar letters now began to ilea& Mr..Wayland, , ridiculing his , awkwardness, 'and enlarging on every fault he had,iaml.on many that, he had not. Meanwhile, Rev.lr. E., the choice of the minority, had beetTiettled in an adjoining' towii; and hie Partial. friendS,:refasing to sit 'under tbe preaching of Mr. WaYland, would toil out three,or four n:tiles to hear, their fa- Vorite, and then would come into the evening meeting and narrate hoW they 'had been blessed, and hEI - W - 6a — rtlilit - good than was to see them,i and how Abe lope.dithey - wcAild come. again. ... . , • They were anxious, too, that Mr. E. should , preaCh in the pulpit of the First Cliureh, on an exchange ""with the paStor. But-'4,;-aingt ihis.theleading'ineffibers of the Church, ei -pecially the pastor'w. official advisers, the deacons, protested- To allow him in the pulpit would encourage the disaffected, and would result in unsettling - Mr. Wayland. - " it'wns well for'the young pastor' that he , hdaintit only lee:Tiled meekneSs of the Lord Jesus," but had gained: worldly wisdom and knowledge of Inman nature, under the sage Dr. Nqt f „ Mr: Wayland, from the begin ning, steadily refused to be informed who in -- the congregation' were'fiienclrY t to him, .and Wbo were unfriendly. ,H-e would not have any obstacle put in the way.of his treating all with perfect and impartial friendliness. The axionymops,letters, as fast, as received, Were epread . hetore the t Ldid, in his 'Olosit, athitherr put" in'tlie" fire. - 'They Were rievei- Ispekt.en . of, sive lits in tater Mon ths' the-Writ ers !Came to him ; ' and, with tears of Shame andsorrow,coilfessed their authorsl4.and begged forgiveneSs. i. . 1 ~ ' The course of th e disaffectedmembers in - I.e . oing their own "church Tor anothe'r was regarded= by many-as: a ' viol a tid ir of tha -cov .ettantrancl- was animadverted-oa in. Church Meeting. It was -ur_gad.„ that the offending members shonhine 'kfutjieed to discipline. This suggestion= thepastor utterly opposed. B.e,,was not i at all. surprised, that, they,did not like bis,preaching was sure he did 'not likeit ltirnself; and' 1:1,s regarded, it as 4heirrduty-tcv—go where .--they—fostal4hem , . selves most ediftecl,_,As i the distance to their favorite Satie - M4atikvas 4 ctinSid&table ' and as many or 'them were pooillidthettght that Church ought_to supply:them with car riagelsj,,aild he offered to,unitein oubsc;ib ing to m.procnre the There.waa'boTurther . eogidaint on thafgrOnd; and', the Practice ceased. ..• , • As for'the'ltinth'er's preaching.in the, pill pit, the•phStor,Efor - ,.t,he only time; all his qninistry, set .himself , in absolutiroppOsition to the deaBdneaild to alr'his coun'se'lors;; If his reNt y kon . t,bc Church was of BO preclri ifilis a - tenure affected by the fact of Mr. E.'s preachhw.in his pulpit, the sooner it was terminated the better. Mr. E: was i rv iited to preaCii. Vor:some eaion he Ere ferred to pidacl at the Wednesday evening seryive n ITo, , ,Vee was gi i v r en , alike frecn the fillitiVar?citiltatet'e dliily'parers; Atte•*ervice was removed to the upper part of the meet- Ihiliansei citmd.Pithe 'pat4or Wfic4f_ll2elk and. sharid jititiko services .- .but the people' chid sot come; the Adic(?.o.ce4(l-fiqPitt.l's tentwho,...dependedi for his•mspiration,upon Cromled, , aud AympAtititz.iPgqauctienee, :was greatly straitened. Nothing-more was..sakl on the snbj , eonor Wap . ittify desire expressed foratrepetition Cif die act' ot-cOilitesy. 4.1 TA„UST IN go]) My father was - you know, -' a , hunter IA Elatn, and a fishir,of men.:, He used to hunt and - Vatch - tront. And he 'earned his venary and piseatory.Ostincts into the Puliiii—, T as he ,Qught to.have done. When' Dr. Cornelius; ;,who was Secretary of the AmericanßOaxd,,,died, father. had 7:a dark day I can tidtlndsirstand;"%lic4hd, " what the Lord means, when his , 'wsrk needs just such man us Corneliius,,aptt; .he takes -him si.*ay'in the ;prime Of 'life, at a time when he is carrying on that-work- sue cessivekr, aed i thereo'hirli , Atkify:to take his Yes there 'wtti3. Dr: Wisner °Cook it' But he'ca:rrje4 itcril7 ate*. he diefl.. I very :distin.ctly remember morning -when .father wae. , :preparing. !the sermon to preach- over Dr.. Wisner..: , •The wheels draggedheaVily. JECOwaS•very.mt - ich Cast down. Tholliflisitai' sqlfiritelicittle he said to me, "Henry, it is all done! it done! I cannot see what the Lord mea l , He is making breach on breach. There 1 ., so much to do, and so few to de it! H e i s taking - the best of them." In his own life he worked as though thought that if he stood from under, a part of the heavens at least would come down. Housed to•stand with his shoulders straight up, as though he thought he were helPin : : to catiithe niAvertie. It Was not fancy --__ 1t was the in*tinct of work. There was the sense of work in him clear to the bone and marrow. - Ithinck.l lote-thWork as well as he did; I got frbm nay mother what he did not from his. I have carried all my life long a sense that the Work milli so vast that no man, I did not, care Who he was, could do more 00. h ,a Verilittle; that He who could raise up ,ehildren from the stones to Abra ham, could raise up- men when he had a mind-to, and.men of the rilibtrkind, and put them - in 'the -right 'plade; ,that'afto,r all the liOrd'weis greater than-the work ; and that it was of ;no, use for me to - fret _myself, and set myself up to be wiser than Providence; all I was called upon to do was to work up to the measure. , of my-wiglom and strength, and he willing to go Whtrdver God sent me; and: that then.l was to tit edntent. tut there is 7whfsre ,weakness of hn- Man nature comes Fdr 'though" . do not feel personally tins Sentie,of connection with the :whole 'ot God.'s,44lr, 'OA world does open up to my mind: so desolately, that it really,seems -hard' to liVe. " 1.-have such a sense Of thetignerance of even the most en lightened lien, I have such a 'sense of the imperfection Of Odell the best 'and most Christian people,' I ; have such a sense of the long way,that humanity has yet to walk-,before itroomes'to the blossom, to say nothing of:the fruit; - I perceive that things 'do move so . slowly ilia it 'seems to me as though if I NiVii 'Jeremiah, 1 too could - pray that my head might become a fountain qr'tears.—ll: W. Biecha... DtATH '-01'-'NEAADEIL No, more striking illustration was ever given of the. ruling paasion strong in death, than in the last hours of the beloved Nean der. This - rtlibugiita, , ,litea - iwtied - reaSnn wan dered, *ere ron his - - work. Mrs. Conant gives'tbe foll6wing'sketcli;: - A wine - 11kth had 'been - prepared - for him, as a last resort :-.llefreshed. and strengthened .by iL,Yke was borne Trom the darkened room, whterelie had_ fain bitlierto, into his study, that cheerful little tpartme.nt opening to the sun; which bled been-so clotig the workshop And the - paradise of.:tbe: man of thought. Here for netirly l twenty years he had studied end,Written.—Fromthia spot' had gone forth those great - Nyorks which have delighted and instructed Christendom. Ere long he murmured, dreamily;lts if at the close of a long, fatiguing-Walk with his sister, "I am weary; let tis now make ready to go home." Just then the rich sunset glow, pouring thro_ugh, the window, lightsd up the shelves, from which; lookedt.:Own, upon him the masters' of. thought with-whom for so many years he ba&held silent . but-high •and en during- coMmunion. Raising himself by a sadden effoit4Cota his:pillOw, he commenced W.regular lecture' upon New Testament exe gesis. 'Soon a`new image passed before his restless ..fane-Y•lmagining himself at the weekly-meeting,.of his beloved s en •aanani, surrounded, by his fondly attached theologi -cal pupils, he called forthereading of a dis sertation, shOttly ,, before assigned on the and formal principle of- the Refor- M . ation. He then dictated the' title's of the 'diTerept i courseacif lectures; to be "delivered ikin?„ dpring tb(4 next 'Session : among theta. r A‘ The •Gospel of John, from its true historical poititof. view.Lt His last thoughts .. .timid: the struggles of death ; were devoted.-o , 4tgreat , labor of his life ..Beginning at tlie-metry: passage of his Church History where sibicrtess had arrest ed his progress, he resumed-the -thread of thought spite of interruptions, con 'tinned to,'dietate; rn !rn;g4u,rperiods for some time. ; At the close of each ,senten ce he,paused;- as iflhislamsnnexusie were taking down• his -words, .and !‘ Are you ready,?" Haying: elosied a division of his subject, he- inquired' this:time. Being told that it was half-past the patient suf ferer fel 4 a4d. once 3 11 04 weary; ,W,illinoW go to . sleepl'' „liaii;l4 by the aid -of friendly. stretched;•-himself, in bed for his laSt'sltimber,ilie whispered-;in a tone , of' inexpreSsible Aetfolerness, which sent a - sitratige'thrillthrinigh . "--every heart, °L , Good 4igh't It was imme diately - MI into a sleep;Wllich Continued four hours, when Fris'great Spirit„in- the quiet of a,Babbath moreing,passeif gently into the land 'of peace. ANECDOTES OF TDR. WAYLAND. [From `tho LiPr inblished by -Sheldon and Co.] "Claim, no,preeedenee,, bat, take just the plac.o that is given. toi yon, Am d .make no foss Aboutit.. :Louisr , MEW. wighed to ascertain whether :the= Earl of Stair 4tts- as he was reputed to be, the most polite gentleman in .Europe.,. : Ikptl2,of - etWe - him to ride his: citi:riage'.,l,l l litt v p tfiey Came to i t, li r * Lu g ' O A€l , -ValigVti,W,; first. Du earl,bowed most, :riesflentiftkllyind obeyed 'The kingr said that anyiltherilaan would have std and refusing. - ' . to enter` for a quarter 'tit hour.", 3 ' Encourage; Your - Ititind to sacrifice everything rather -than, alm,iidon a single povat ; of =high Christian4a i ttswity. Let tt ,•bg cseen ,that, altlionghohe mayl;have made l an error in judgraentNials Atilt determined to:Toursue?-A , strictly ',ltotibttdArct o9urse. .matter - how Ariljustig'ilifi,94y - pave been trpa,ted by O)iers',;,listt,is,'"Vo* - tallbcl upon to tr fo:44titor, :9thers At ay involved. •MIA. not also involve himin‘reiputation.: particularly: desir otmth titryslotesho mid both: show , the: elevation ofiChatlaeter Mlitelftbeffeltea-yoWas a'Ohris =
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers