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
=