Up

hand when no man can work. and be doing, for there is neither knowledge, nor device, nor work in the silent grave, to which you are rapidly passing. Opportunity once lost, is lost for ever! Great wages and good encouragement will be given to faithful servants; namely, the pleasure arising from the work; the approbation of conscience, (one hour of which is worth a world!) the joy arising from the consideration of being made instrumental to the salvation of immortal souls; an inheritance, a kingdom, a crown of eternal life, the reward of grace.

A CONVERTED PRIEST ON ITALY AND THE ITALIANS. THE following is from a lecture on this subject, delivered at Douglas, Isle of Man, by the Rev. Dr. Butler, formerly Chamberlain to the Pope, now a Protestant clergyman. He said: "In Rome and all other parts of Italy, the Sardinian possessions alone excepted, the people have no power to move or moderate the heavy burdens that oppress them, and are scarcely better than a cargo of ballast in a rotten, fragile barque, with the banners of Holy Mother Church for the sails, the priests and dignitaries snugly ensconced in the berths, the cardinals reclining in pomp on the sofas of the grand saloon, and the Pope aloft at the helm. modern Rome is a sort of show and sham, an amalgamation of glitter and squalor, high pretensions and abomi→ nable wickedness,-priestly tyranny the centre and circumference, arrant hypocrisy the pedestal of all. Rome, the very place where Popery has had

Yes,

the fairest experiment, reigned with no rival,-governed with no hindrance, sat enthroned on its seven hills for many a sad century, wielding a power unparalleled in the history of man, it has cursed with sin and sorrow, and the vilest forms of degradation and woe! If I seem to be speaking in the gall of anger, rather than the oil of charity, I beg to be excused. I love Italy, the enchanting; but I must be permitted to record my deepest conviction that the Papacy in Italy is the gangrene of her life and the core of her woes. What is the religious aspect of Italy? It may be comprised in a few sentences-a sinful man looked upon as infallible! A sinful man's dogmatical teaching held more sacred than the revealed will of God in the Inspired Volume! The crucifix substituted for the cross! The Virgin put in Immanuel's place; and the mummeries of an immoral priesthood substituted for the sacred operations of the Holy Spirit." The rev. lecturer then proceeded to develope and prove his statements, by a graphic description of his last visit to Italy-particularly detailing what he saw at Rome.

INFLUENCE OF A HOLY LIFE. THERE is an energy of moral suasion in a good man's life, passing the highest efforts of the orator's genius. The seen but silent beauty of holiness speaks more eloquently of God and duty than the tongues of men and angels. Let parents remember this. The best inheritance a parent can bequeath to a child is a virtuous example, a legacy of hallowed re

The

membrances and associations. beauty of holiness, beaming through the life of a loved relative or friend, is more effectual to strengthen such as do stand in virtue's ways, and raise up those that are bowed down, than precept, command, entreaty, or warning. Christianity itself, I believe, owes by far the greater part of its moral power, not to the precepts or parables of Christ, but to His own character. The beauty of that holiness which is enshrined in the four brief biographies of the Man of Nazareth, has done more, and will do more, to regenerate the world and bring in everlasting righteousness, than all the other agencies put together. It has done more to spread His religion in the world than all that has ever been preached or written on the evidences of Christianity.-Chalmers.

MAN AND HIS SAVIOUR. A VERY old German author discourses thus tenderly of Christ :

My soul is like a hungry and thirsty child, and I need His love and consolation for my refreshment; I am a wandering and lost sheep, and I need Him as a good and faithful Shepherd; my soul is like a frightened dove, pursued by an hawk, and I need His wounds for a refuge; I am a feeble vine, and I need His cross to lay hold of and wind myself about it; I am a sinner, and I need His righteousness; I am naked and bare, and need His holiness and innocence for a covering; I am in trouble and alarm, and I need His solace; I am ignorant, and I need His teaching; simple and foolish,

and I need the guidance of His Holy Spirit. In no situation, and at no time, can I do without Him."

NOBLE THOUGHTS.

I NEVER found pride in a noble nature, nor humility in an unworthy mind. Of all trees, I observe that God hath chosen the vine-a low plant that creeps upon the helpful wall; of all beasts, the soft and patient lamb; of all fowls, the mild and guileless dove. When God appeared to Moses, it was not in the lofty cedar, nor the spreading palm, but a bush, a humble, abject bush. As if he would by these selections check the conceited arrogance of man. Nothing produceth love like humility; nothing hate, like pride.

SELF-CONTROL.

A MERCHANT in London had a dispute with a Quaker respecting the settlement of an account. The merchant was determined to bring the account into Court, a proceeding which the Quaker earnestly opposed, using every argument in his power to convince the merchant of his error; but the latter was inflexible. Desirous to make a last effort, the Quaker called at his house one morning, and inquired of the servant if his master was at home. The merchant hearing the inquiry, and knowing the voice, called out from the top of the stairs, "Tell the rascal I am not at home." The Quaker looking up to him calmly said, "Well, friend, God put thee in a better mind." The merchant, struck afterwards with the

66

meekness of the reply, and having more deliberately investigated the matter, became convinced that the Quaker was right, and that he was wrong. He requested to see him, and after acknowledging his error, he said, "I have one question to ask you. How were you able, with such patience, on various occasions, to bear my abuse?" Friend," replied the Quaker, "I will tell thee: naturally I was as hot and violent as thou art. I knew that to indulge this temper was sinful: and I found it was imprudent. I observed that men in a passion always spoke loud; and I thought if I could control my voice, I should repress my passion. I have, therefore, made it a rule never to let my voice rise above a certain key; and by a careful observance of this rule I have, by the blessing of God, entirely mastered my natural temper."

EDUCATION IN THE SICK

ROOM.

Let

Or all the know-nothing persons in the world, commend us to the man who has "never known a day's illness." He is a moral dunce; one who has lost the greatest lesson in life, who has skipped the finest lecture in that great school of humanity, the sick chamber. him be versed in mathematics, profound in metaphysics, a ripe scholar in the classics, a bachelor of arts, or even a doctor of divinity; yet is he as one of those gentlemen whose education has been neglected. For all his college acquirements, how inferior is he in wholesome knowledge to the mortal who has had but

a quarter's gout or a half-year's ague!-How infinitely below the fellow-creature who has been soundly taught his tic-doloreux, thoroughly grounded in the rheumatics, and deeply read in the scarlet fever! And yet what is more common than to hear a great hulking florid fellow bragging of an ignorance, a brutal ignorance, that he shares in common with the pig and the bullock, the generality of which die, probably, without ever having experienced a day's indisposition.

MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE.

LET parents talk much and talk well at home. A father who is habitually silent in his own house may be, in many respects, a wise man; but he is not wise in his silence. We sometimes see parents, who are the life of every company which they enter,—dull, silent, uninteresting at home among the children. If they have not mental activity and mental stores sufficient for both, let them first provide for their own household. Ireland exports beef and wheat, and lives on potatoes; and they fare as poorly who reserve their social charms for companions abroad, and keep their dulness for home consumption. It is better to instruct children and make them happy at home, than it is to charm strangers, or amuse friends. A silent house is a dull place for young people, a place from which they will escape if they can. They will talk, or think, of being "shut up" there; and the youth who does not love home, is in danger.

I Do not, my dear friends, intend to say much respecting my late beloved daughter; but as a young person, and one brought up among you, known to all, and greatly beloved by many, I think it due to you, although at the cost of great pereonal feeling, to show my appreciation of the abundant marks of your sympathy in my affliction, as well as to testify our common esteem of the character of the dear departed over whose loss we mourn, to furnish you with some particulars respecting her piety, her religious experience, and her unexpected, but sweet and happy death!

Very pleasant is the memory of Sarah Elizabeth Potter, and our only sorrow in recalling it, is the sorrow occasioned by her early removal from our earthly affections and fellowship. Our sorrow, however, is "turned into joy," when we follow her by faith beyond the things seen, and see her "with Christ," with harp and crown amid the spirits of the glorified.

It is nearly four years since she became a member of the church meeting in Silver-street Chapel, and although then but sixteen years of age, her father has the fullest satisfaction in believing that she had before that fully given herself to the Saviour. From childhood, a most marked feature of her character was conscientiousness; and this, with increasing age and knowledge, ripened into high, consistent, holy principle. I never knew her, in a single instance during her whole life, depart from strict truthfulness; while her very nature seemed to shrink with utter aversion from every form of immorality and vice. Simple and unaffected, deceit and pretence were utterly foreign to her thoughts and feelings. Always loving and affec

tionate, she had yet a firm will, and was most unbending in purpose in regard to what she conceived to be her duty. The testimonies of those who best knew her, and saw her daily in her accustomed vocation, in the different spheres she occupied, are greatly to her honour; and next to the evidence of her deep piety, are pleasant and soothing to the minds of her sorrowing friends. Assiduous, patient, faithful, obliging, she gained the respect of all, young and old, and obtained an influence unusual for her years.

It is, however, to her religious character that I refer with unspeakable delight. Indeed, it seems now that our 66 eyes were holden," or we

could not have failed to discern that the flower was too rich in hue for this desert world, and that the youthful saint was ready for her translation to a brighter clime. The proofs of her constant habits of devotion, of the nearness to God in which she lived, of her ardent breathings after holiness and the rest of heaven, are most abundant, both from her letters and private papers, and the testimony of those who had near and confidential intercourse with her. Since the summer vacation, as if from a presentiment that she was soon to be removed from intercourse with those she loved next to her Saviour, her letters have been more frequent than at any former time; her tenderness and affection sought every opportunity of utterance; and in almost every communication there was a rcference to the blessedness of heaven as her everlasting home, and to the anticipated joy of herself and all her dear loved ones below, meeting there to be with Christ for ever.

On the 6th of October, just fourteen days from her death, she

writes:-"Hitherto I have been mercifully preserved in health, thanks to my heavenly Father's care." And then, after describing the affliction which had suddenly come upon many in the establishment, she adds:-"I do not fear in the least. If it should be His will that I should suffer, I will not murmur, for I should hope to feel His presence on a sick bed." The letter concludes with the affecting postscript:-"Pray for me, dear papa, that whatever may happen may be for my good! Love to Jane Taylor." Once more she took up her pen, and but once, to write to her beloved home, and thai was but three days later, Tuesday, October 9th. She had then been smitten with illness, and although the form it assumed gave hope that it might be slight, and that in two or three days she might be able to come home, yet from that sick bed she never arose. Again, in a postscript, in the last words she ever wrote, and reserved for a postscript, as if her full heart could not give as full vent to her feeling as she wished, and she was loath to close her letter:-"I was extremely sorry, dear papa, to hear of your indisposition. May the Father of mercies grant you renewed strength, in body and in soul." And then, desiring her love to mamma and other members of her family, this precious postscript closes with the remarkable and almost prophetic words: "Home has such a sound of rest, that although the cause is sad, I cannot but be glad at the prospect of home! How much greater the feeling of rest, when we think of our heavenly home! I do think the text true: To live is Christ; but to die is GAIN." These last words of her pen, "to die is gain," are underlined with her own dear hand, and beneath the last, "gain," to mark with emphasis her feeling, and to attest her hope, four strokes are subdrawn. I will only add one more extract from her writings; it is from her diary, and marked " private.""My earnest wish is, that this week, beginning Sept. 23rd, may be wholly

consecrated to thee, my heavenly Father. Has it been so, must be answered by me on Sunday, Sept. 30th. Feeling my extreme weakness and sinfulness, to thee, O Saviour, I look for help! Ever intercede for me, and by thy grace help me in this feeble attempt. I am thy child, because ransomed by thy precious blood." I know that a father's estimate must necessarily be partial, I will therefore abstain from giving any opinion of my own as to her eminent piety, and will furnish, from many similar attestations, the testimonies of two ladies who have had recent intercourse with her, and who thus spoke of her without the remotest idea that what they wrote would come to the eye of her friends. The first is that of one older than herself, who formed her acquaintance only during this summer:-"I never," she writes, "met with one so young, who so fully impressed me with the certainty that she must be a child of God. Her whole demeanour was so truly that of one who had learned of Him who was meek and lowly in heart. May we all, ere long, unite with her in everlasting praises to the same God and Redeemer."

The other is from a dear friend she had long known, with whom she spent two or three days, including Sabbath, but six weeks before her death. "We were all much struck," she writes, "during her short visit, with her sweet, heavenly spirit. She seemed, indeed, to be ripening for glory. There was such a sweet simplicity about her, mingled with a firmness and consistency of character, most remarkable in one so young. May we all follow her bright example, and meet her again where partings are no more."

I cannot refrain, although added since this sketch was drawn, giving the testimony of Mr. Baxter, Acock's Green, near Birmingham, under whose roof she resided for a short time, to the affectionate esteem in which Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, and the dear children of her charge, held the character of my dear daughter.