think, been praying and seeking to be enlightened with the true light from above, and gradually, almost insensibly, I have been drawn nearer and nearer unto Jesus of Nazareth, until at last, weary, sin-sick, and unworthy, as I know I am, I have fallen at the foot of the cross, and have sought and found mercy. It is unspeakably precious to me to have been thus brought—and oh, I would not exchange this all-sufficient Saviour, and the salvation which is His free gift, (and oh, how free!) for all the righteousness which years or centuries of perfect obedience to the law might win for me! I glory in the cross of Christ.

"Yet I write these words in fear and trembling, lest through my unfaithfulness I may bring reproach on the cause I long to serve. May the power of our Lord Jesus Christ keep me faithful to Himself. And now, my dearest friend, how my heart yearns for you! How I long to see you come to this Saviour, and be at peace! What can I say? I feel that words are useless. I can only pray for you, and this, God granting me the ability, I will do, until you are brought into this sheltered fold of which Christ is the compassionate Shepherd. I do not feel as if I could argue the subject with you, for though I know that my Redeemer liveth,' I know also that it is not by

TONGUES AND TRANSLATIONS.When the Gospel was first preached to all nations, it was necessary to give a diversity of tongues; a tongue for each nation; and this was done by the Divine Power. But in this second promulgation, as it were, of the Gospel, the work will probably

argument, but from conviction that you will embrace the truth, and this no words can adequately express. My heart is too full to write more at present, yet this one thing I may say, that no motive for work was ever half so powerful as the thought that I am now working for my dear Saviour. It seems to me, that through Christ strengthening me I can do all things."

To another friend she says, "On the 13th of March I went to the prayer-meeting at Jayne's Hall out of mere curiosity. I took my seat in the crowded room with a feeling of infinite superiority to the benighted souls around me, who could find any comfort in such scenes of fanatical excitement. But irresistibly a different feeling stole over me. I realised that the Spirit of God was present there, in a way never witnessed by me before. My own poor philosophical religion seemed vain and dead, in view of the whole-souled earnestness which I saw and felt around me. Here was something above and beyond my experience, and though I had gone in to criticise and scoff, I sat there in tears, with a bitter sense of the insufficiency of all my philosophy. For the first time my faith in my preconceived opinion was shaken. These worshippers knew whom they believed, I did not, and I could not be at peace."

"And now, O Father, glorify thou me with thine own self with the glory which I had with thee before the world was."-JOHN Xvii. 5.

GOD is said to glorify any person when He gives him glorious qualities and powers; or by revealing and manifesting those glorious qualities which he hath; or when he doth receive him and treat him agreeably to his glory. The meaning of Christ's prayer, then, must be of one or the other of all these senses. When He prays that the Father would glorify Him with that glory that He had with Him before the world was, if it be taken in the first sense, He desires that God would bestow upon Him as Mediator, or God incarnate, a glory suitable to that glory He had with Him from all eternity. If in the second sense, He desires His glory may be revealed, or become conspicuous in His human nature. If in the third, that God would receive Him honourably and agreeably; which sense is the chiefest, for it containeth the other two. The meaning, then, in short is, that He might be received to the full enjoyment of

that glory which He had before the world was.

"Lift not up your horn on high; speak not with a stiff neck."-Ps. lxxv. 5. THIS passage will receive some illustration from Bruce's remarks in his travels to discover the source of the Nile, where, speaking of the headdress of the governors of the province of Abyssinia, he represents it as consisting of a large broad fillet, bound upon their forehead, and tied behind their head. In the middle of this was a horn, or a conical piece of silver gilt, about four inches long, and in the shape of our common candle extinguishers. This is called kirn, or horn, and is only worn at reviews, or on parades, after victory. The crooked manner in which they hold their neck, when this ornament is on the forehead, for fear it should fall forward, seems to agree with what the Psalmist calls "speaking with a stiff neck;" for it perfectly shows the meaning of speaking with a stiff neck, when you "hold the horn on high," or erect, like the horn of a unicorn.

To every young man we would say, "if you wish to thrive, husband time, and take care of money." Neglect of either rule will be fatal to success. It is sure in the end to

entail poverty, and the natural fruit

of that is borrowing, begging, stealing. Even the first of these is a great evil.

Of all the troubles of this life there are none that so absorb every feeling, so deaden the energies, so

paralyse the best affections of our nature, as pecuniary embarrassments. The sun may shine, the face of the earth smile with peace and plenty, the birds sing, and the flowers yield their sweetest perfumes, but the soul of the man who is in debt is dark and cheerless. The voice of affection may appeal in tones of kindest sympathy to his heart, and perhaps impart a momentary gleam of hope or comfort, but it will quickly pass away. True, as we make our couch, so must we lie; as we sow, so shall we reap-'tis a just and righteous retribution; but the quality of mercy is not strained; and who can observe the miserable and forsaken, struggling with adversity, and, if he can do no more, not feel pity for his sufferings?

Mark his pale cheek, his sunken eye, his haggard look; he was once gay and brave, and as blooming as thyself, his eye as bright, his brow as unclouded as thine own -he began life without a care, had an open heart for all, and did not lack the means that ensure many friends; he abounded, indeed, in all the world most prizes; but wanted that which is beyond all other things valuable-wisdom; and those who know him best may, when the grave has closed over him and all his troubles, think that his faults, though many, were errors rather of the understanding than the heart.

The borrower is servant to the lender. Debt is, to some extent, degradation. Young man, think of it! When the poverty is self-created through wanton waste, and culpable improvidence, to degradation is added the sting of remorse. He cannot respect himself, nor will he long

retain the respect of others. Even his inferiors of whom he borrows will despise him.

HUMBLE TOIL ENCOURAGED. WHO does the most good? This question is not easily answered. Such men as Luther, and Wesley, and Edwards, and Wilberforce, and Howard, are prominent among the great workers in the world. But who knows that they really excelled thousands of others whose names have never been mentioned in history? They never could have done the work they did alone. They stood upon others' shoulders. They were made prominent by the circumstances around them; and perhaps their success depended more upon the agency of unknown persons than upon their own power.

The reformer who rides upon the wave of victory is properly remembered with reverence; but the men who have prepared the way, who have worked and moulded the thoughts and aspirations of the people, who have laid the foundation, when God and conscience only cheered them on ward in their efforts, should not be forgotten. Sometimes the pastor, the parents, the Sunday-school teachers, educate, train, and discipline a whole community, permeate all hearts with reverence for the Gospel, and instruct them in the claims of God, the duty of man, and the scheme of mercy which Christ established. By-and-by, a man of zeal and power comes along and gathers these prepared people into the kingdom, and henceforth he is regarded as the chief instrument in their conversion. He is certainly

worthy of grateful remembrance; yet he has very likely done less to bring about this happy result than most of the other labourers. They have worked without the stimulus of an immediate harvest in prospect; they have toiled daily, weekly, constantly, for years; they have ploughed, and sowed, and cultured, and weeded, and watched, and really have done nine-tenths of the work of conversion, and much the harder part of it; and in the great day of revelation it will appear that those who receive the least honour among men, are worthy of the largest praises. We are too liable to esteem that the greatest, which causes the greatest commotion, excitement, and noise. That which grows slowly, grows strong and large. The mightiest forest trees are those which are slow in growth. The wealth and beauty, the perpetuity and vigour of the material world, depend much more upon silent, concealed, modest forces, than upon the impetuous, rapid, explosive, terrific and violent.

We have often been pained to wit

ness the discontent of persons in humble life. They desire to do something valuable, make their mark, leave an impression, and are constantly bemoaning their limited sphere of action. If they could stand before public assemblies, sit in the chair of State, write books for the million, then they think they would be doing something worthy of mention. But to move in the family circle, to live in private, to be obscure and unknown, is to them exceedingly disheartening. But if the realities of life were better understood, they would not be discontented. They work at the root, at the heart, at the sources of personal and social life; they bend the twigs, direct the course of the primitive currents, and thus mould the full-grown life of society. In social life everything depends upon the subsoil; keep that rich, dry, and mellow, and the fruits and grains will grow in glorious exuberance. But when that is cold, wet, and hard, the crop will be meagre, withered, worthless, and weeds and brambles will possess the field.

SIR,-The public are much indebted

to

you for your occasional exposures of the evils of tobacco. The subject is far more serious than at first sight might appear. It is a chief branch of social morals. Dr. Cooke, of Trinity-square, a well-known physician, at a meeting lately held, moved the following resolution:— "That as tobacco, in any of its forms of use, appears both physically and

mentally injurious in its tendency, the meeting cordially unites in the object of this Society." He was glad, he said, to have that opportunity of bearing his testimony against the evils of the prevalent practice of using tobacco. As to snuff, there was, he admitted, something apparently agreeable in handing about a snuff-box; but let every one who had not acquired the habit beware

lest he should thus be led into it permanently. A few years ago, while delivering one of a course of popular lectures at an institution where persons were trained for the ministry, in order to show the injurious effects of snuffing he referred to the anatomy of the nose, and pointed out what must be the effects produced by the passing of a quantity of tobacco into the gullet. When he had concluded, one of the students said to him, that if Dr. So-and-Soa man of great learning and piety, who was an inveterate smoker, had been present-he would not have used such language. Shortly after, he mentioned this to the gentleman himself, who replied, "However strong may have been the language used by you in denouncing the habit, I should have fully concurred in it; I abhor myself almost in dust and ashes, that it has gained such an ascendancy over me."

Sir, I commend these important testimonies to your youthful readers, in the hope that neither my labour nor your type will be thrown away. A FRIEND OF YOUTH.

NECESSITY OF DECISION. SIR,-Having for threescore years very largely mixed with society, I have seen much of young men, and marked the effect of decision and its opposite. I have found it an element in all success; and the opposite, a frequent cause of failure.

Decision is an admirable trait in the character of a young man. Το the faintest whisper of error-to the sweetest smile of guilt-to the softest touch of sin-be decided in your re

R

sistance. What if jovial companions put the glass to your lips? determined to resist temptation. A decided negative, at the first approach of sin, wins half the victory. irresolution has paved the highway of life with thorns and briars, and clothed the skies with sackcloth. It has whitened the regions of death with the bones of those who have perished by yielding to the demands of sin. Be decided, and you will be safe.

Still, we must discriminate; other qualities may affect a man's position in life. "I confess," says a thoughtful writer, "that increasing years bring with them an increasing respect for men who do not succeed in life, as those words, 'unsuccessful men,' are commonly used. Ill success sometimes arises from a conscience too sensitive, a taste too fastidious, a self-forgetfulness too romantic, a modesty too retiring. I will not go so far as to say, with a living poet, that the world knows nothing of its greatest men; but there are forms of greatness, or at least of excellence, which 'die and make no sign;' there are martyrs that miss the palm, but not the stake; heroes without the laurel, and conquerors without the triumph."

Granting the truth of all this, closely examined, it will be seen that what is here wanted is decision. A fair infusion of that quality would have set all right. Recommending to all young people Foster's "Essay on Decision,"

I remain, yours,

GRANDFATHER.