three years she has been a seraph in glory. Twenty-three years she has looked upon Jesus her Saviour and her Redeemer. Oh, what do you and I seem beside this beautiful seraph? Though we drain off the fountains of earthly wisdom, we cannot attain to a tithe of that divine knowledge that fills her cup of bliss this day. Twenty-three years in the presence of the Lord of life, going up and down the steps of light, walking and talking with angels, pure, consecrate, holy!

And may not you and I win some stars to our crowns of eternal rejoicings?

THE DOUBTING DISCIPLE. Jonathan Barker was naturally of a gloomy mind. In boyhood, he was ever borrowing trouble by anticipating what lay in the future. He was never known to speak hopefully or cheerfully on any subject; so that this reputation was very early gained. When, however, on entering manhood, he married the most light-hearted, amiable, and lovely girl in the village, people, who wondered at her choice, said, "Well, Jonathan, you've got a wife that you can't find any fault with-there never was such a good girl before as Mary Lane."

"Oh, yes, I'm well aware of that," replied Jonathan, with a sad face, "she is everything a wife ought to be; but then". he sighed "she is hardly strong enough for a farmer's wife."

Thus he lived on, caring only for himself and those who were to him as himself. He toiled incessantly, but never cheerfully. When planting, he prophesied drought to wilt the young blade; when reaping, he foresaw heavy rains to mildew the new-cut grain.

Notwithstanding all his forebodings, he toiled on just as resolutely as did his more hopeful neighbours. The sun shone and the rain fell on his acres year after year, and he gathered in such noble harvests, that he was forced to pull down his barns and build greater. And greater they were; so that none in the country could compare with them.

"What a noble barn!" cried one of a group of neighbours who stood admiring it; "and how well filled, too! How finely it is ventilated! I'm glad you got it shingled before that long storm set in, and that you've had such fine weather to gather in your hay."

"Yes, it was lucky," replied Mr. Bar

Have it well insured against fire," suggested an old utilitarian.

"Oh," replied the owner of the barn, "the insurance company might fail, and then I should lose not only my barn, but the money I paid for my policy too."

Now there stood there, leaning upon his pitchfork, and listening eagerly to the conversation, an old labourer, who had been for some months in the employ of Mr. Barker. He was a christian, with very little information, and still less fluency of speech. At these last words of his master, however, he broke silence: "Ye have a greater evil nor that to fear, Sir," he said.

"Worse than to lose my barn by fire, David!" answered the farmer; "what could be worse than that, now that all my year's hay and grain are in it ?" His uneasy mind could imagine no worse evil than that. "What can it be, David?"

"Ye have this sorer evil to fear, Sir,lest the Lord should say unto you, 'Thou fool, this night shall thy soul be required of thee.' Then whose shall these things be which thou hast laid up in store ?"

Mr. Barker frowned on the simple workman; his neighbours stared at him, as if he were reading the doom of his employer -then scattered, and went their different ways. But the rebuke of honest David stung the conscience of the farmer, until he departed from his usual leaden demeanour enough to turn back, as he was entering the house, and to say, "I don't care how much religion you have, David, but F want you to keep it to yourself, remem-' ber."

"I have done that too long, Sir, already," replied the toil-browned man. "In future, Sir, I'll strive not to put my light under a bushel, but upon a candlestick, that it may give light to all in the house, Sir." And he took off his old straw hat respectfully to the rich man, shouldered his pitchfork, and went his way to the hay-field.

Mr. Barker was evidently disturbed, and like all people in such circumstances, sought to calm himself by disturbing somebody else.

"Mary," he said, "do you see how impudent David has grown of late ?"

"David impudent !" exclaimed this kind friend of the working people. "I'm sur prised; I always find him so respectful to me, and so obliging to all the people in the kitchen!"

"Well, so he used to be, but—"

"But what, my dear ?" asked the wife, "you don't see any change in him in that respect, do you?"

"Why yes, I do," Mr. Barker began; but he was almost ashamed to finish the sentence.

"What has he done or said ?" asked Mrs. Barker, with interest.

"Well, I almost forget his words; but I think-that-his religion has made him impertinent."

The painful expression which shaded that ever cheerful face, showed that a deep wound had been inflicted on Mary's heart. She could endure moroseness, or even impatience directed towards herself, but she could not see the cause she loved better than self rudely assailed.

"No," she said at last, "that cannot be; religion makes men more respectful to their superiors, more faithful to duty."

"Well, you've spoilt him. When he saw how ready your church was to take him in, and how much they made of him, it was more than he had strength for. When he was received into the church, your minister welcomed him just as warmly as he did General Ward; and I presume he now looks down on me as nobody! He took it upon himself, just now, to advise me to look after my soul !"

The good wife was silent-she saw that her husband was pierced with an arrow from the quiver of the humble archer, and chose to let it do its work..

A few fleeting months found Mr. Barker and the offending David side by side in the church, at all the meetings, in every good word and work! The desponding man had been truly converted. His heart was removed from the barns, cattle, hay, rye, and wheat, to interests more important to himself and his fellow-creatures. He loved, he trusted, and yet, the old nature being still alive, he doubted whether he did love or trust. "I know," he would say, "that a great change has taken place in my heart; but I tremble lest mine may not be a genuine conversion, or lest the work be begun and not completed." He expressed fears that his hope was worthless, and in the same breath declared that he would not give it up for worlds of gold.

He knew where his treasures were, but he could not believe that his heart was there also. His natural despondency threw a cloud ever his religious enjoyments, and in a great measure crippled his powers for usefulness; for the conscientious christian, dreading hypocrisy, rarely labours for the souls of others when he doubts the state of his own. He read the Lamentations of Jeremiah far more than those portions of God's word where the saints of old exulted in him, and proclaimed their deliverance through him. He felt assured that "the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin," and yet feared lest his sins were more than all; he believed the word, "Whosoever cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out," and yet trembled lest he was not included in that "whosoever," and thus weighed down by a natural infirmity, be "went mourning all his days."

But the burden of flesh was not to be borne for ever; the hour of his deliverance drew near. As heart and flesh failed him, this infirmity failed also. With the wasting of the mortal passed away also much which had dragged it down from its heritage of joy. Every earthly prop was removed, every hidden sin renounced-the flesh was crucified, and the helpless soul, ceasing from its own weak reasonings, was cast wholly upon the mercy of a crucified Redeemer.

In his weakness, he did what in his strength he could not do-he took God at his word. During long months of weary sickness he lay like a loving child on the bosom of his father; and when the hour of his release came, he gladly met the messenger, rejoicing most of all that in heaven doubt could never enter, that there he should be beyond the reach of his old infirmity,that he should behold his Saviour without a veil between.

Little do strong, trustful christians know how to bear with and to pity the doubting and halting, who, although they may follow farther off than the others, yet keep their position with tenfold harder struggles: They are as men of small strength, rowing against wind and tide, worn with toil and fatigue, drawing every stroke as if it were their last, and yet manfully refusing to lie down upon their oars, and float with the stream. The frailties of a man's nature will cling to him after he has become a new creature; and although they may cloud the sky and hide at times the sun, he is none the less a christian. He will come off con

queror, through Him who "knoweth our frame, and remembereth that we are dust," -"who was tempted in all points like as we are, and who knoweth how to succour them that are tempted."

Unto such, the trembling and the doubting, "there remaineth a rest."

Oh, that the strong would bear with the infirmities of the weak,-that when impatient of their complaints and weary of their doubts, they would remember the beautiful example of our risen Saviour! Thomas, weak in faith, doubted that his beloved Lord was risen from the dead: ·་ Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe. And after eight days, again his disciples were within, and Thomas with them. Then came Jesus, the

Did

doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, Peace be unto you." Did he not cast one reproachful glance on him? he not upbraid him with his sinful unbelief? No; he stooped to his infirmity, and condescended to convince him by the very means he himself had declared necessary. How touching his appeal and entreaty ! "Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side: and be not faithless, but believing." But Thomas had heard his voice-that was enough; he reached not his finger nor yet his hand: his unbelief had vanished before that glorious face, and he could only cry, "My Lord and my God." If he, then, our Lord and Master, bears with and encourages the weak and faithless, shall not their brethren do so also ?

TO RECEIVE."

"Please mother, may I go and see poor Mrs. Whittier this morning ?" said little rosy-cheeked Alice a few days since. "I've earned pennies enough to buy her two nice oranges, too."

"Before breakfast, darling ?" said mother imprinting a kiss on her upturned brow.

"Yes, if you please, for you know she can't eat much in the morning, and she always likes oranges so much. I can be back before breakfast, mother."

"Yes, you shall go; but first, go get your hat and your little Samaritan basket as you call it, and then come to me."

And so "good, kind mother," as Alice always called her, when she provided her with things to give away, filled the basket with some nice delicacies to tempt the appetite of the poor invalid.

On the way to Mrs. Whittier's was a fruit-stall, kept by an old woman, who, Alice used to say, she believed had no home but the side-walk; for she was always there, if she went ever so early or ever so late. Alice had formed quite a friendship with the fruit-woman, partly because she told her stories about her childhood.

The brook that flowed close by her door with its minature dams,-the berry parties, --the spinning-wheel and loom,-all seemed to our little city-girl so like fairy-land, that she was content to listen for hours sometimes, whilst she dealt out fruit to her little

customers. And so, you may be sure, Alice always patronised Aunt Sally.

Aunt Sally suspected this morning that Alice was choosing oranges for somebody beside herself, she was so careful to pick out the nicest. So, in answer to her enquiries, she found they were intended for a poor, sick woman. This was enough; and to Alice's little stock she added a couple of lemons "to make her some nice drink," she said.

Alice looked up in surprise, for she knew Aunt Sally was very poor herself. She understood the look at once.

"It's more blessed to give than to receive," she said smiling. "I often have the blessing of receiving, and I like sometimes to have the greater blessing of giving."

Alice could not resist the impulse to kiss the old, wrinkled face; and so, leaving nother ray of sunshine in Aunt Sally's path, she tripped lightly away.

Another big ray of sunshine, the little bright face and heavy basket left at poor Mrs. Whittier's humble house, and Alice's steps were turned homeward.

Alice looked like a very little sprite that morning as she came into the breakfast parlour with her slender figure and thoughtful blue eyes looking out from under her dark gipsy bat. One spring and the pet was in her father's arms.

"See what papa has brought," said he, playfully holding at arm's length a beauti

ful book. How would Alice like that for a present on her seventh birth-day ?" "Oh, very much!" said she, quietly. Her father looked surprised. "Papa," said she, with a beautiful smile en her face, "you'll have the biggest blessing."

"What do you mean, Alice?" said he. "Aunt Sally said it was more blessed to give than to receive; and now I think of it, I believe I've read it in the Bible, somewhere, so I know it must be true. Then I've been thinking about it, papa, and I should think it was true if it wasn't in the Bible."

"Why?" said papa.

"Because it makes me very happy to have a present from my own dear papa," said she, watching his face; "but I think it made me a great deal happier to see poor Mrs. Whittier eating one of my oranges."

"My precious darling,” said he, tearfully, smoothing back the hair from her fair forehead, "God grant you may never have your warm heart chilled by contact with the cold world."

Alice didn't quite understand what papa said, but very sure she was, while eating her nice warm breakfast, that "it is more blessed to give than to receive."

NOTES OF THE MONTH.

POLITICAL.

We are thankful to be able to announce this month the capture of Delhi, and the relief of Lucknow. Before these important events, all others sink into comparative insignificance. After them, the subsidence of the mutiny may be regarded as certain: though it will probably be long before the turbulent feelings which have been evoked will subside into their accus. tomed channels.

The fall of Delhi was, of course, accom. panied with the most painful circumstances. The loss in killed and wounded was large amongst the former was the heroic General Nicholson. On the whole the victory does not appear to have been followed by any barbarities on the part of our troops. Women and children were spared. The aged king-some accounts say eighty, others nearly ninety years of age was spared, and properly, with his wife; his sons and grandsons, who must have been the real traitors, were shot at once a merciful death for wretches who appear to have had a hand in many of the too-well-known atrocities.

Lucknow was saved but just in time. Mines had been carried under the Residency, by means of which, within three hours of its relief, it and all in it would have been destroyed. General Neill lost his life in the attack. It is said that General Havelock is now besieged in the Residency by thirty thousand rebels, with Nena Sahib at their head.

Commercial affairs have gone sadly wrong during the month. Chiefly through the influence of the American panic, severe pressure has been inflicted on commercial affairs in this country; and the Bank of England has raised its rate of discount to the unprecedented rate of ten per cent. The Bank Act, also, which restricts the amount of notes issued by the Bank of England, has been suspended in its operation with the approval of Government: and Parliament is to meet on the 3rd inst.,

to pass a Bill of Indemnity to both Ministers and the Bank.

General Cavaignac, who was President of the French Republic before Napoleon, has died suddenly in France.

At Naples two English engineers are confined, and are not permitted to have communication with their Consul. It is said that the Consul has been instructed to demand their liberation, and to threaten, in case of refusal, Admiral Lyons's guns! ECCLESIASTICAL.

Exeter Hall has again attracted attention. The Church of England lectures to working men were to have been renewed for the winter, and all arrangements had been made, with the sanction of the Bishop." At the last moment, however, the Rev. A. S. Edouart, "the incumbent of the parish," forbade the services: and consequently, according to church law, they could not be held. They are to be held, however, though not by Churchmen, by Dissenters. On Sunday evening week, Mr. Brock preached. He is to be followed by Mr. Allon, Mr. Landels, Mr. Noel, and others.

A "new star" has arisen in the North. Mr. Mursell, son of Mr. Mursell of Leicester, has recently settled in Manchester, and has just eommenced a series of services in the Free-trade Hall, with unusual popularity and success. Seven thousand per

sons have attended at each lecture hitherto delivered, and thousands are said to have gone away unable to fiud admittance. His lectures are thus described in the Freeman."Impressive, brilliant, grotesque, by turns, he would have been invaluable as a 'Special Correspondent' had he not chosen a loftier aim. Some already call him the Manchester Spurgeon;' a title infelicitous enough, as two styles could scarcely be more dissimilar. The "Manchester Punshon' would be nearer the mark. But after all, the secret of Mr. Mursell's power, as of the power of all such men, is that they are emphatically themselves. In their own way they tell

the truth that is in them, weaving the flowers of their intellect and heart into no prescribed garland shape before they hang it upon the cross. One other thing we must add-Mr. Mursell not only carefully composes and diligently elaborates, but he closely reads. Some critics were considerably astonished on Sunday afternoon at finding a speaker with his manuscript before him awaken all the attention and produce all the effect of an extempore orator. We need not say that he reads well. His voice is clear and good, his manner vehement, with apparent nervous excitement. The address lasted exactly an hour, and was followed by an outburst of applause, repressed as before." Right earnestly do we wish our young brother God speed!

We deeply regret to announce the death, at Birmingham, on Sunday week, of the venerable Thomas Morgan, of Birmingham. At the advanced age which Mr. Morgan had reached, his continuance amongst us could not be long expected. He died at the age of eighty-one, having been pastor successively of the churches in Cannon-street and Bond-street, Birmingham. He has passed to his reward, "and his works do follow him."

BAPTIST ASSOCIATION OF SCOTLAND. The annual meetings of this Association were held in Glasgow, Oct. 21st. and 22nd. On Wednesday evening the 21st, there was a meeting in the hall of Hope-street Chapel, for devotional exercises, which were conducted by the Rev. Dr. Paterson, of Glasgow, and a number of ministers from other towns. On Thursday morning at eleven o clock. the annual business meeting was held in Hope-street Chapel, when the report of the committee-which was read y Mr. Tolmie, the secretary-was adopted, and office bearers were chosen. The report briefly traced the origin of the Association, and the proceedings of the past year, which have been, necessarily, to a large extent, of a preparatory nature. In reference to one of the objects of the Association, the education of young men for the ministry,-the report stated that six applications had been received; that two had been approved of, and the other four would be decided on in two or three weeks; and that the Rev. Dr. Paterson, of Glasgow, bad, at the unanimous request of the committee, undertaken the duties of theological tutor. Another object of the Association is the aiding of weak churches. Under this head, the report stated that three applications had been received, one of which was granted, one was in the meantime declined, and one was still under conaideration. The conference began about half past eleven o'clock, Hugh Rose, Esq., of Edinburgh, in the chair; the opening services being conducted by Mr. Clare, of Perth. Several topics were discussed, the evening a general meeting was held in Hope-street Chapel, presided over by the Rev. John Williams. Addresses were delivered by the Rev. R. Thompson, Dun

In

fermline, the Rev. Mr. Martin, and the Rev. Mr. Wallace.

FALMOUTH.

Dinner

On Wednesday, October 14th, the Rev. John Walcot, late of Sutton, Yorkshire, was publicly recognised as pastor of the Baptist church, Falmouth. The service was an unusually interesting one. and tea were provided in the school-room. At half past six a well-attended meeting was held; John Freeman, Esq., one of the deacons of the church, presided. The proceedings commenced by singing and prayer. The chairman then made a few pithy observations, and called upon Mr. Gutheridge, a brother deacon, to state the circumstances which had induced the church to seek Mr. Walcot's ministerial services. This statement was followed by a deeply interesting account from Mr. Walcot, of the religious experience through which he had passed, of the considerations which led him inte the ministry, of the motives which prompted him to respond to the invitation from Falmouth, and of the sentiments with which he entered on his work in that town. Mr. Walcot was followed by the Revs. John Stock, of Devonport; Mr. Haswell, Wesleyan minister, of Falmouth; J. P. Barnett, of Penzance; and H. Lawrence, of Truro. The doxology and benediction brought the proceedings to a close.

GAMLINGAY, CAMBRIDGESHIRE.

Services were held at this place, on Thursday, November 5th, on the occasion of re-opening the Baptist chapel after enlargement. It is a very pleasing fact that it is the third enlargement within forty years. The present addition consists of a large lecture-room and gallery opening into the chapel, and affording accommodation for 300 persons. The accommodation supplied by this place of worship is now very considerable, and we are happy to say that the whole is occupied. The Rev; E. Manning, the pastor, has laboured amongst his affectionate people upwards of forty years. The services were conducted by the Rev. W. Landels and the Rev. C J. Middleditch, whose sermons were remarkably appropriate and excellent. The whole cost of the enlargement was £270, towards which, including the collections on the day of re-opening, the sum of £220 has been raised, leaving a deficiency of £50, which it is believed will be soon met.

HARLOW, ESSEX.

In

Services in connection with the settlement of the Rev. F. Edwards, B.A., as minister of the Baptist chapel in this place, were held on Tuesday, November 3rd. the afternoon, after prayer by the Rev. R. Richards, of Ware, the Rev. J. Angus, D.D, President of Regent's-park College, delivered an earnest address to the minister, and the Rev. E. Edwards, of Chard, preached an appropriate sermon to the people. In the evening of the same day a public meeting was held, at which the Rev.