writing all sorts of letters, and giving audience to all sorts of people, the ostensible president of Methodism and pastor of all the Methodists, and amidst his ceaseless toils betraying no more bustle than a planet in its course, he was a noble specimen of that fervent diligence which, launched on its orbit by a holy and joyful impulse, has ever afterwards the peace of God to light it on its way. Nor should we forget his praiseworthy efforts to diffuse a Christianized philosophy, and propagate useful knowledge among religious people. In the progress of research most of his compilations may have lost their value; but the motive was enlightened, and the effort to exemplify his own idea was characteristic of the well-informed and energetic man. In Christian authorship he is not entitled to rank high. Clear as occasional expositions are, there is seldom comprehension in his views, or grandeur in his thoughts, or inspiration in his practical appeals; and though his direct and simple style is sometimes terse, it is often meagre, and very seldom racy. His voluminous journals are little better than a turnpike log-miles, towns, and sermon-texts -whilst their authoritative tone and self-centreing details gave the record an air of arrogance and egotism which, we doubt not, would disappear could we view the venerable writer face to face. Assuredly his power was in his presence. Such fascination resided in his saintly mien, there was such intuition in the twinkle of his mild but brilliant eye, and such a dissolving influence in his lively, benevolent, and instructive talk, that enemies often left him admirers and devotees. And should any regard the Wesleyan system as the mere embodiment of Mr. Wesley's mind, it is a singular triumph of worth and firmness. Never has a theological idiosyncracy perpetuated itself in a Church so large and stable. But though every pin and cord of the Methodist tabernacle bears trace of the fingers, concinnate and active, which reared it, the founder's most remarkable memorial is his living monument. Wesley has not passed away; for, if embalmed in the Connexion, he is re-embodied in the members. Never did a leader so stamp his impress on his followers. The Covenanters were not such facsimiles of Knox; nor were the imperial guards such enthusiastic copies of their little corporal, as are the modern Methodists the perfect transmigration of their venerated father. Exact, orderly, and active; dissident but not dissenters; connectional but catholic; carrying warmth within, and yet loving southerly exposures; obliging without effort, and liberal on system; serene, contented, and hopeful-if we except the master-spirits, whose type is usually their own-the most of pious Methodists are cast from Wesley's neat and cheerful mould. That goodness must have been attractive as well as very imitable, which has survived in a million of living effigies. BE FAITHFUL. THOMAS HOOPOO attended a mission school among the American Indians. After some time he accompanied Deacon H, with whom he was boarding. from Philadelphia to New Brunswick, and put up at the house of a clergyman. On the evening of their arrival a select company. including the clergyman, were invited to spend the evening with a celebrated attorney of the place. Thomas, then about sixteen years of age, accompanied them. The lawyer entertained the company for a long time, by interrogating Thomas in reference to his native country, their customs, religion, enjoyment, &c., and especially upon their religion, compared with the Christian religion. Thomas very patiently answered his questions, often to the great merriment of the company. At length the lawyer, who was not a religious man, ceased, and Thomas commenced in substance as follows: "I am a poor heathen boy. It is not strange that my blunders in England should amuse you. But soon there will be a larger meeting than this. We shall all be there. They will ask us all one question, namely, 'Do you love the Lord Jesus Christ? Now, sir, I think I can say Yes. What will you say, sir ?"" He ceased a death-like stillness pervaded the hall At length it was broken by a proposition of the lawyer, that as the evening was far spent they should have a season of devotion. Soon they separated, and retired to their respective rooms. But there was no rest for the lawyer. The question of Thomas rung in his ear-"What will you say, sir ?" He paced his room in anguish.|| The Spirit of God had touched his conscience. He found no rest till he could answer the thrilling ques-, tion proposed by that "heathen boy" in the affirmative. A few days afterwards, on the return of Deacon H- several of the party were rejoicing in hope, who were careless sinners previous to the question of Thomas. A powerful revival of religion followed, all apparently resulting from the faithful dealing of that illiterate heathen boy. OBEYING GOD. WHEN God says, "Sun shine in the skies!", the sun directly answers, not in words, but in deeds, "Here I am to do my Maker's will, to light up earth and heaven with my glory, to gild all things with gold, and to make the whole creation rejoice." When God says to the moon, Appear!" the moon replies, "Here I am with my silver light, to scatter the darkness and render the night lovely." When God says to the stars, "Shine forth!" they instantly answer, "We are thy servants, and gladly do thy bidding. Already we are in the skies, and there will we keep watch till thou givest us leave to retire." THE HEART HARDENING. Thus do the sun, and the moon, and the stars obey their Almighty Maker. When God says to the spring, "Come forth with thy flowers!" does she tarry, or refuse to answer! No. "I come," says the spring. "Here are my greenest leaves. Here are my freshest flowers, wherewith to beautify the earth. The snow-drop is in the garden, and the primrose on the bank and in the coppice." When God says to the summer, "Gladden the earth!" the answer is this: "At thy voice I spread my influence abroad; the birds are warbling, the flowers are blooming, the trees are blossoming, and nature is rejoicing." When God says to the autumn, "Withhold not thy fruits!""They are here!" is autumn's reply. The bush is laden with berries, and the trees with fruit, and the fields are waving with golden grain, ready for the sickle of the husbandman." NEIGHBOUR JONES. 383 NEIGHBOUR JONES is a good man-a kind-hearted right down. One night there was a fire in the When God says to the winter, “Where art thou, and where are thy storms?" "They are abroad at thy command," replies winter. "Frosting in his arms a laughing boy. O what a relief did that sight bring to our neighbour! He went home with a singing heart. "What an awful thing it would have been," said he to himself, "if that child had perished!" and then he shuddered at the idea. has bound up the earth and the waters; snow has covered the ground, and the wings of the howling wind are flying through the air. Who shall stand before thy cold?" Thus do spring, summer, autumn, and winter obey the command of the Holy One. And shall the sun with his glory, the moon with her beams, and the stars with their light, obey their Maker? Shall spring with her flowers, summer with his blossoms, autumn with his fruits, and surly winter with his storms, gladly hasten to do the commandment of the Lord, and thou refuse to obey him? O! let thy language be "While sun, and moon, and stars are seen, PRAYER. In the morning, prayer is the key that opens to us the treasury of God's mercies and blessings; in the evening, it is the key that shuts us up under his protection and safeguard. On Sabbath a man preached in our church about Sabbath schools. He was trying to get money to start these schools among the destitute. He drew a vivid and frightful picture of the ignorance and moral wants of some of the little ones where he lived, and of their exposure to a death far more awful than that which can come upon the body. He wanted to rescue them at once, and insisted that no time was to be lost in making the attempt, while he showed clearly that the plan which he was advocating was the most feasible of any. Neighbour Jones was there, and he listened for a little while with some degree of interest. But the day was warm-the speaker's manner not very animated, and some time before he had finished our neighbour sat dozing in his pew. When the collection was about to be taken some one touched his elbow and woke him, He put a shilling in the plate, and went home It is less reproachful to tender God no service, thinking to himself that there were a great than to perform it slightly and ceremoniously; the one is disobedience, the other contempt. .... Sacrifices, which, under Jewish ceremony, were the greatest part of God's solemn worship, were commanded to be offered up with fire; and no fire could sanctify them but that miraculously sent down from heaven. So truly, all our Christian sacrifices, both of praise and prayer, must be offered up to God with fire; and that fire which alone can sanctify them, must be darted down from heaventhe celestial flame of zeal and love which comes down from heaven, and hath a natural tendency to ascend thither again, and to carry up our hearts and souls upon its wings with it. many calls now-a-days. THE HEART HARDENING. ON a winter evening, when the frost is setting in with growing intensity, and when the sun is now far past the meridian, and gradually sinking in the western sky, there is a double reason why the ground grows every moment harder and more impenetrable to the plough. On the one hand, the frost of evening, with ever-increasing intensity, is indurating the stiffening clods. On the other hand, the genial rays, which alone can soften them, are every moment withdrawing and losing their enlivening power. Take heed that it be not so with you. As long as you are unconverted, you are under a double process of hardening. The frosts of an eternal night are settling down upon your souls; and the Sun of Righteousness, with westering wheel, is hastening to set upon you for ever more. If, then, the plough of grace cannot force its way into your ice-bound heart to-day, what likelihood is there that it will enter tomorrow?—M'Cheyne. CANNOT WE DO SOMETHING? A MISSIONARY in Africa had established a school for coloured children, which gave him much joy, for lay mangled and dead at his feet. On inquiry about the matter, he told me that a strange dog had attacked the flock, that the rest of the sheep had got away through a hole in the hedge, but that the ram now dead had more wool on his back than the rest, and the thorns of the hedge held him fast till the dog had worried him. "Here is another," said I, "ruined by his riches." At the close of my ramble, I met a man hobbling along on two wooden legs, leaning on two sticks. “Tell me,” said I, "my poor fellow, how you came to lose your legs ?" 66 Why, sir," said he, "in my younger days I was a soldier. With a few comrades I attacked a party of the enemy, and overcame them, and we began to load ourselves with spoil. My comrades were satisfied with little, but I burdened myself with as much as I could carry. We were pursued; my companions escaped, but I was overtaken and so cruelly wounded, that I only saved my life afterwards by losing my legs. It was a bad affair, sir; but it is too late to repent it now." Ah, friend, thought I, "like the fruit tree, and the mangled sheep, you may date your downfal to your possessions. It was your riches that ruined you." When I see so many rich people, as I do, caring so much for their bodies, and so little for their souls, I pity them from the bottom of my heart, and sometimes think there are as many ruined by riches as by poverty. "They that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdiThe prayer will suit you, per- i haps, as well as it does me, "Give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me; lest I be full and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord? or lest I be poor, and steal,and take the name of my God in vain." Prov. xxx. 8, 9.-Old Humphrey. tion." 1 Tim. vi. 9. Another child interrupted him and said, "And as for the rest of us, we will gather resinous gum, and will sell it for more than four shillings a pound." "And we," exclaimed the smallest children, "will carry ashes, and sell them to the soap maker." Then the girls came; and some of them said, "We will collect locks of wool, and we will sell them." Others said, "We will get some hens, and sell the eggs and the chickens." The little coloured children did not rest satisfied with making promises. They executed their plan without neglecting school; and at the end of a year they held a meeting, under the direction of a mistionary, and carefully paid over to him all which shey had raised. And how much do you think they put into his hands? More than ten pounds. RUINED BY RICHES. Get as Do not be over-anxious about riches. I was walking through an orchard, looking about me, when I saw a low tree laden more heavily with fruit than the rest. On a nearer examination, it appeared that the tree had been dragged to the very earth, and broken by the weight of its treasures. "Oh!" said I, gazing on the tree, "here lies one who has been ruined by his riches." In another part of my walk, I came up with a shepherd, who was lamenting the loss of a sheep that "I AM RIGHT." So he said, with a good deal of emphasis. This did but gentleman with whom he was conversing. The reac summon an equally decisive declaration from the, tion of the last on the first speaker was powerful, and Mr. Positive became more positive, till he became superlatively positive, and ill blood began to shoot | along his veins. "But I am right." Suppose you are; and if you are, then you have the best of all reasons for being calm and composed. You may be firm, but not vebement and outrageous. You may be decided in your convictions of a certain fact, but you need not come down upon an opponent like a bear robbed of her whelps. We saw lately a couple of persons on the opposite right;" and off they went before the wind, ten knots sides of opinion concerning a small matter. "I am an hour; and it kept blowing harder and harder every moment:-they both "fired up," and came as nigh as good breeding would allow of a towering passion. The matter in hand was in value but a trifle above the shadow of a shade. But it was big enough to make the sparks fly, Satan being at the bellows. The faces of each man changed from the quietness of a pleasant conversation, to the paleness of a strong excitement. How foolish! THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 385 THE BACKSLIDER. BY THE REV. ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D.D., PRINCETON. THERE is a perpetual, and there is a temporary the apostle here describes the character of the backsliding. The first is the case of those who, true Christian, and that he merely supposes the being partially awakened and enlightened by case, if such should fall away, what would be the Word, accompanied by the common opera- the fearful consequence; but this seems to us tions of the Spirit, make a profession of religion, a forced construction. It seems more reasonand, for a while, seem to run well, and to out- able to believe that he is describing a case strip the humble believer in zeal and activity; which may, and often does occur, and that the but having no root in themselves, in the time description applies to such professors as had of temptation, fall totally away, and not only received the miraculous endowments of the relinquish their profession, but frequently re- Holy Spirit, and yet apostatized; and by crucinounce Christianity itself, and become the bit-fying the Son of God afresh, he probably alludes terest enemies of religion. Or, seduced by the pride of their own hearts, they forsake the true doctrines of the Gospel, and fall in love with some flattering, flesh-pleasing form of heresy; and spend their time in zealous efforts to overthrow that very truth which they once professed to prize. Or, thirdly, they are overcome by some insidious lust or passion, and fall into the habitual practice of some sin, which at first they secretly indulge, but after a while cast off all disguise, and show to all that they are enslaved by some hurtful and hateful iniquity. Persons who thus apostatize from the profession and belief of Christianity, or who fall into a habitual course of sinning, are commonly in the most hopeless condition of all who live in the midst of the means of grace. When they openly reject Christianity, their infidelity is commonly accompanied by contempt and a malign temper, which often prompts them to blasphemy; and they are, according to our apprehension, in great danger of committing the unpardonable sin; and some who, in these circumstances, are actuated by inveterate hatred to the truth, and who make use of their tongues to express the feelings of enmity which rankle in them, do often fall into this unpardonable sin. The case of such seems to be described by Paul, in the 6th chapter of his Epistle to the Hebrews: "For it is impossible for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost, and have tasted the good Word of God, and the powers of the world to come, if they shall fall away, to renew them again unto repentance; seeing they crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put him to an open shame." Some suppose that to the manner in which those who went back to the Jews were required to execrate the name of Christ in the synagogues, and to profess that he deserved to be crucified as he had been, and thus put him to an open shame. But whether such apostates do actually commit the unpardonable sin or not, seems in most cases to be of little consequence, for they commonly die in their sins, and all sin unrepented of is unpardonable. In some cases, however, apostates stop short of infidelity and blasphemy, and while they stand aloof from religion, content themselves with decency, and do not treat religion with disrespect; yet it will be found, on examination, that the hearts of such are extremely callous, and their consciences are seared as with a hot iron. The Spirit of God evidently has left them, and strives no more with them; and they often die as they have lived-fearfully insensible, having "no bands in their death." But sometimes conscience is let loose upon them in their last hours, and they are left to die in the horrors of despair. In the days of the apostles, they seem to have had some way of knowing when a man had committed "the sin unto death," and for such Christians were not to pray, as their destiny was irretrievably fixed; but such knowledge cannot be possessed now, and we may therefore pray for all as long as they are in the place of repentance. But when we speak of backsliding, we commonly mean those sad departures of real Christians from God, which are so common, and often so injurious to the cause of religion. These cases are so common that some have thought that all Christians have their seasons of backsliding; when they left their first love, at liberty, as in former times. All backsliders are not alike. Some are asleep; but the one now described is in a state of almost perpetual conflict, which keeps him wide awake. Sometimes, when his pious feelings are lively, he cannot but hope that he loves God and hates sin, and is encouraged; but oh, when sin prevails against him, and he is led away captive, he cannot think that he is a true Christian. Is it possible that one who is thus overcome, can have in him any principle of piety? Sometimes he gives up all hope, and concludes that he was deceived in ever thinking himself converted; but then again, when he feels a broken and contrite heart, and an ardent breathing' and groaning after deliverance, he cannot but conclude that there is some principle above mere nature operating with him. and lost the sweet relish of divine things, and | parted, and he is not able to rise and go forth were excluded from intimate communion with God. But, however common backsliding may have been among Christians, there is no foundation for the opinion that it is common to all; we find no such declension in the experience of Paul or John; and in the biographies of some modern saints we find no such sad declension. We could refer to many recorded accounts of personal experience, but it will be sufficient to mention Mr. Baxter, Colonel Gardiner, G. Whitefield, and Mr. Brainerd. No doubt, all experience short seasons of comparative coldness and insensibility, and they who live near to God have not always equal light, and life, and comfort, in the divine life. Those fluctuations of feelings, which are so common, are not included in the idea of a state of backsliding. This occurs when the Christian is gradually led off from close walking with God, loses the lively sense of divine things, becomes too much attached to the world and too much occupied with secular concerns; until at length the keeping of the heart is neglected, closet duties are omitted or slightly performed, zeal for the advancement of religion is quenched, and many things once rejected by a sensitive conscience, are now indulged and defended. All this may take place, and continue long, before the person is aware of his danger, or acknowledges that there has been any serious departure from God. The forms of religion may be still kept up, and open sin avoided. But more commonly backsliders fall into some evil habits; they are evidently too much conformed to the world, and often go too far in participating in the pleasures and amusements of the world; and too often there is an indulgence in known sin, into which they are gradually led, and on account of which they experience frequent compunction, and make solemn resolutions to avoid it in future; but when the hour of temptation comes, they are overcome again and again, and thus they live a miserable life, enslaved by some sin over which, though they sometimes struggle hard, they cannot get the victory. There is in nature no more inconsistent thing than a backsliding Christian. Looking at one side of his character, he seems to have sincere, penitential feelings, and his heart to be right in its purposes and aims; but look at the other side, and he seems to be "carnal, sold under sin." O wretched man! how he writhes often in anguish, and groans for deliverance; but he is like Samson shorn of his locks-his strength is de The sleeping backslider is one who, by being surrounded with earthly comforts, and engaged in secular pursuits, and mingling much with the decent and respectable people of the world, by degrees loses the deep impression of divine and eternal things; his spiritual senses become obtuse, and he has no longer the views and feelings of one awake to the reality of spiritual things. His case nearly resembles that of a man gradually sinking into sleep. Still he sees dimly, and hears indistinctly, but he is fast losing the impression of the objects of the spiritual world, and sinking under the impression of the things of time and sense. There may be no remarkable change in the external conduct of such a person, except that he has no longer any relish for religious conversation," and is rather disposed to waive it. And the difference between such an one and the rest of the world becomes less and less distinguishable. From any thing you see or hear, you would not suspect him to be a professor of religion, until you see him taking his seat at the Lord's table. Such backsliders are commonly awakened by some severe judgments; the earthly objects on which they had too much fixed their affections, are snatched away, and they are made bitterly to feel that it is an evil thing to forget and depart from the living God. There is still another species of backsliding, where, by a sudden temptation, one who ap peared to stand firm, is cast down. Such was the fall of Peter, and many others have given full evidence that a man's standing is not in himself; for frequently men are overcome in those very things in which they were least afraid, and had most confidence in their own |