THE BRITISH CHURCHES IN RELATION TO THE BRITISH PEOPLE. BY EDWARD MIALL. 8vo. London: A. Hall and Co.

CONCLUDING NOTICE.

The sixth chapter, on the "trade spirit," we regard as one of great value. It well deserves separate and cheap publication. And the same may be said of the seventh, on the "social and political hindrances to the spread of the gospel." The majority of the "better off" portion of our churches, Mr. Miall observes, consists of tradesmen, of men in business of every kind. After mentioning the common reasons which induce or compel men to apply to business, he remarks,

"Trade, resorted to for any of these purposes exclusively, is an impediment to spiritual life. Whether the end be bare subsistence, decent comfort, extravagant display, pleasurable excitement, or the love of money, there is the same absence of christian morality from it. The object aimed at falls short of spiritual good-is acquisition, not development-the gain of somewhat external to us, not the ripening of somewhat inherent in usand, inasmuch as the means to that object are in no sense religions, all activity, all self-sacrifice, all ex'penditure of our powers, in that direction, must be -set down, in relation to the divine life, as constitutjug so much dead loss. And this is what I mean by the trade spirit. The phrase, in the sense I attach to it, does not necessarily imply a reigning desire for wealth, a hard-hearted, mean-spirited, allgrasping cupidity, although it comprehends them. But under this term, I wish to expose and condemu, as fatally suppressive of religious vitality, the disposition to pursue trade with an exclusive, or even a predominant view to the worldly advantage to be got by it-making it its own end, or at least proposing in it something distinct and apart from, and infinitely inferior to, the nourishment of our sympathies with God and his government. I belive this to be the greatest and most pernicious practical error of the present day."

Hence vastly the larger portion of life is frequently withdrawn from the province and cognizance of religion altogether,worldly maxims and principles govern it,it injures our spiritual life, instead of affording, as it ought to do, opportunity for its development and cultivation, the world sees no difference between the reputed saint and the acknowledged worldling, clerks, apprentices, servants, operatives, are dealt with merely as machines requisite to busi'ness, and the thorough application of the truthful, and especially the benevolent prin

The seventh chapter is occupied with external hindrances to the success of our churches; of these, four are selected out of many- -"deep poverty, excessive toil, popular ignorance, and political religionism." Mr. M. points out, we think with truth, that this mighty combination of obstructions to the success of the gospel cannot be overcome, except in very casual instances, by preaching merely, - that the evils themselves must be examined, pondered, and encountered by the churches with remedial measures naturally adapted to remove them. For instance, he asks whether those who lament the excessive toil and poverty of the millions, ever enquire if it be really necessary that one-third of every working man's wages,-therefore one-third of his toil, should be demanded for government purposes? and whether the enormous amount, and the division, too, of taxation, might not be altered? The awful effect of "political religionism" on the vast political organization calling itself "the Church," and, through it, on the community, in overspreading the land with superstition or infidelity, we have nowhere seen more naturally and justly painted. It fully sustains the view we have retained since it was forced upon us twenty years ago, when we began to preach the gospel in the suburbs of a great city, that the so-called "Church of England" is the greatest obstacle in this kingdom to the spread of the church of Christ; and that our hopes for the multiplication of truly apostolic churches in our native country would be greater, were our parish churches temples of some heathen gods, whose worship could not be mistaken for that taught by our blessed Lord.

In the last chapter, Mr. M. justly remarks, that the grand practical remedy is, in reality, the removal of those obstacles which

have been described, chiefly by direct effort to do it, and thus giving free scope to the spiritual life of the church itself. He strongly, but, as we think, incorrectly, insists again on the necessity of our rising above seeking our salvation in the Scriptures, and seeking in them, in preference, all that makes God lovely. We think that both objects, though logically separable, in fact concur. "We love him because he first loved us." "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." (1 John iv. 10.) The truth is, "the joy of the Lord is our strength." (Neh. viii. 10.) And it is mainly while believing the fulness "of the salvation to be brought unto us, that we rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory." (1 Pet. i. 8, 9.) GRATITUDE is the form of "disinterested love" which has wrought the greatest moral wonders in our race.

Some other points in this lecture which need a little remark we must pass over for want of space, and conclude with urging our readers to study for themselves, with special care and prayer, the parts more appropriate to themselves,-and entreating Mr. Miall, while we heartily thank him for his volume, to reprint it speedily, with considerable excisions from the earlier chapters, and careful consideration of the suggestions both of friends and of angry critics too, in a very much cheaper form. LECTURES TO THE WORKING CLASSES ON CHRISTIANITY. By G. W. CONDER. DELIVERED IN THE BAZAAR, LEEDS. No. 1. Christianity the World Fact. No. 2. Christianity, what it professes to be and to do. London: Benjamin L. Green.

It is worthy of remark how much influence is now being exerted upon the masses by means of lectures. Every subject has its expounder, and every society its lecturer; and even some of our greatest men are condescending to popularize their

thoughts and simplify their knowledge, so as to bring them within the comprehension of those who frequent our Mechanics' Institutes. We have often thought how much might be done to introduce christianity to the working classes especially, by seizing an idea so evidently successful in other departments of social effort,-by lecturing in the public halls and political meeting rooms, on secular as well as religious topics, the lectures being of an interesting character, and imbued with the spirit of christianity.

We have watched Mr. Conder's recent effort at Leeds with very considerable interest. Two or three of his lectures we were privileged to attend, and we can bear witness to the attention with which he was listened to, as well as the effect, on many minds at least, which he seemed to produce. As the lectures are now printed, we are glad to give our testimony to their adaptedness to their object. They are popular, interesting, and impressive, and, above all, they contain many manifestations of deep and honest interest in the social and political advancement of the people. All honour to Mr. Conder for thus stepping out from the ordinary course of ministerial effort, and seeking to win "the common people" to a knowledge of the truth. We hope our friends will read and circulate these lectures; and that one effect of Mr. Conder's noble example will be the making of similar efforts, by competent persons, in many other parts of the kingdom.

THE ULTIMATUM; OR, WHAT SAITH THE SCRIPTURE? A Discourse suggested by the recent case of Gorham v. the Bishop of Exeter. BY JOHN HOWARD HINTON, Pp. 22. London: Houlston & Stoneman, Notwithstanding an interpretation or two which we think doubtful or incorrect, this tract is, as we might expect from Mr. Hinton, a conclusive appeal to Scripture on the subject of Baptismal Regeneration.

songs, play on golden harps, and sing perhaps out of golden music books. This story is a true one. It was told by the little boy after he had grown up to be an old man.

I had quarrelled with my little brother Willy, who had not quite passed his sixth I was two years his senior, and he year. was the only being I ever loved. Willy was a frail and affectionate little fellow, not meant to struggle long through this dark and weary existence. The little golden locks fell upon his slender and beautiful neck, and his large blue eyes wore a soft and confiding expression, which called forth irresistibly your love and protection. I went to the corner of the garden, and continued building a house we had begun together. The evening was fast coming on, and I still required about a dozen bricks to finish it; I therefore stalked up to one which, after great trouble, he had just completed, and pulled down part of the walls for that purpose. The little fellow could not bear it, and he snatched them back from me; I, in a rage, struck him violently on the breast, and he fell to the ground.

In a short time he recovered his breath, and said:

"Jamie, tell Annie to come and carry me in. I cannot walk; my breast is very, very sore."

I slunk quietly in at the back of the house. In a few minutes I heard a low and mournful whisper go through the dwelling; my little Willy had broken a blood-vessel. The next evening about sunset I went to the door of the room where he lay, and as I looked in he beckoned me to him. The setting sun fell full upon his golden hair, and as he reclined upon his snowy pillow, methought he seemed like an angel floating on a fleecy cloud!

I crept up slowly to the side of his bed, and held the little hand which lay upon the coverlet within my own.

"Jamie," said he, "Jamie, I am going to die."

I hid my face among the bed clothes and sobbed aloud. "Don't cry," said the little fellow; "you know I love you dearly. Come, Jamie, let me play with your hand again, as I used when we sat together on the grassplat in the warm sunshine, and don't cry, my dear little brother Jamie. You will be kind to my little pussy when I am gone, and fill her saucer with new milk, wont you brother "

Pussy lifted up her head as she heard her name, and purring, smoothed her cheek against the pallid face of the young sufferer, as though to thank him for his kind remembrance.

"I am going to heaven," he continued, "and that is a happy place, you know, for God, our Father, whom we say our prayers to every night, lives there, and you know how often we have wanted to see him, Jamie ; and there is Jesus, whom we love so much, and who loves little children, too, so dearly; he will be there, and he will carry me to his father, for he will be like a big brother, and take care of me, you know, Jamie! And there is little Harry Bentley, he is gone to heaven, too, and I shall see him there, and we will have two little wings, and a little golden music book, between us; but we will leave a corner for Jamie, so that when you come, we will all bow down together before the throne of God our Father, and sing his glory for ever and ever."

The little fellow lifted up his bright eyes to heaven, and his countenance seemed to grow brighter and brighter. I gazed upon his face for some time in silent anguish ; but as I gazed, his face appeared to wax brighter and yet more bright; a smile still lingered upon his parted lips, and his little soul winged its flight to a sure and glorious eternity.

And now, when the hurricane of riotous and irresistible passion sweeps over my soul, tearing down all distinctions of right and wrong, and dethroning reason, their cherub voices seem to come wafted on the gale; and as these two little angel forms, with their little golden music book, and my empty and unmerited corner, rise up as it were in a vision before me, my passion vanishes, my frame shudders, and I burst into tears.

WILLIAM HERBERT.

"Oh, dear Martha," said William Herbert, in a tone of despondency, to his older sister, "I don't believe I shall ever learn to be good."

"Why, my dear," said his sister, raising her eyes from the print which she was examining, "what has happened to discourage your attempts to-day?"

"Nothing more to-day than another day; but somehow it seems as if I don't know how to be good. I can do my chores, and get my lessons, and mind what you tell me pretty well, but,"-as he continued, he came close to his sister's side, and spoke in a more subdued tone of voice,-"I don't think about God, Martha. I can't be good, as you, and father, and aunt Hannah are good,

and as dear mother was good. There is a strange feeling, when I think of the words she said to me when she was dying. I don't want to forget them, but sometimes they make me feel afraid."

Martha put her arm around her brother's waist, and kissed his cheek, which was glowing with the excitement of unwonted feeling. She felt a christian sister's strong sympathy for the motherless boy, who, it was evident, had just begun to seek for that light, which is darkened by corruption within, and by bad influence without. With a silent prayer for the divine Spirit's aid, she said," I know what you mean, William. There are times when all around must look dark and cheerless to those who do not love God. And even a loving mother's dying counsel, when it has been neglected, is recalled with a mysterious dread. But, my dear, there is One who is both ready and willing to remove all your gloomy fears. If you will only be persuaded to give your heart to him, you will find a peace and joy

in believing, of which you cannot now conceive. You say you can't be good-you don't know how; and that is very true. It is true of every person in the world. No one can change his own heart. But God has promised to do this great work for all who will wait upon him. If you will only sincerely and perseveringly seek his favour, pray for the influences of his Spirit, regard its teachings, and trust in the Saviour, you will be a child of God, and then you will wonder how it could be that you did not love him before."

William listened with much attention to his sister's words, and when she had stopped speaking, he said with an appearance of much feeling, "I sometimes wonder I don't love God now, he has done so much for me. I will try and seek him—I am resolved."

And this resolution was kept, and William soon happily realized the truth of the promise, "I love them that love me, and they that seek me early shall find me."Mother's Magazine.

MRS. MAY, CULMSTOCK, devon.

Elizabeth May was born at Appledon, North Devon, in the year 1785. Her parents were strict Church folks; but, as she was a weakling from her birth, she was permitted to attend the Independent chapel, where, under a sermon from "Thou God seest me," she received her first permanent religious convictions. Not long after her conversion, her attention was directed to the subject of baptism. There was only one Baptist in the town, and by her she was directed to "search the Scriptures." She immediately formed the determination to do so; and her now bereaved husband well remembers how, in his visits to her, she directed his mind to the same subject, and how they used to search the Scriptures together, till they were both convinced that the immersion of believers was the only baptism of the New Testament.

The change that had passed on her mind could not be unnoticed by her parents, and fears were entertained to what it would grow. Her father determined to send her out of the way of danger. He sent her to the care of her uncle in the town of Brix

ham. The late Rev. Thomas Roberts, of Bristol, was then pastor of the church at Brixham. She applied to him for baptism, and was baptized before her return. After her return, she had to endure the bitterness of opposition. Even a place for retirement was denied her; her bed-room was not safe from disturbance. Being rendered so very unhappy at home, she resolved to seek a situation. She soon found one in a pious family in the town of Ilfracombe, where she engaged as an assistant in a draper and grocer's shop. There she was very happy with the family, and in the place she found many opportunities for usefulness, which she eagerly embraced. While here, she had an attack of rheumatic fever, which brought her almost to the grave. By good medical attendance and kind attention she got better, and returned to her father's house to recruit her strength. On returning to her situation she had another attack, and again she was obliged to take refuge under her father's roof for a permanency. Opposition had by this time entirely ceased, and for some time before their death she had the pleasure of seeing both her parents under the sound of the gospel.

On returning health she could not be inactive. She had, in connexion with another friend, a large class in the Sunday school; and it is a remarkable fact that, with one or two exceptions, all that class were converted to God.

In the year 1813, she became the wife of her now bereaved husband. With him, in 1818, she removed to Barnstaple, where she remained until 1828; when, her husband having received a call to the pastorate of a little church at Croyden, she accompanied him thither. In 1836, he removed to Pill, near Bristol, where she was visited with typhus fever, which produced effects in her system she never got rid of; and though she was still useful, she was never able to exert herself as she had done.

In 1843, she removed to this place (Culmstock or Prescott). Though illness and increasing years had destroyed much of her energies, yet she was always found at her post.

She never forsook her place, though she had a mile to walk, until she was absolutely obliged to do so. The last time she walked to Prescott, her husband was obliged to help her along by putting his arm round her waist for support. This was her last visit to the hallowed spot, till she was carried there for interment. She had for several months the sentence of death in herself. She had been long subject to a liver complaint, and towards the close of her valued life it gathered strength. A medical man was called in, but it baffled all his skill. We found it necessary to send for her niece, and the day after her arrival she took to her bed, from whence she rose

no more.

The last six weeks of her life was a time of suffering indeed. But her state of mind during her illness was calm as a summer evening. Not a murmur nor complaint escaped her. Sometimes, on experiencing paroxysms of pain, she would say, "Lord, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done." The first time her husband asked her the state of her mind, her reply was, "Peace." "You feel your foundation then ?" "Yes, I do." One morning, after asking her how she had spent the night, she was asked, "How has your mind been ?" She looked up and replied with emphasis, "No condemnation." Another time her husband was speaking to her of Christ as the foundation of his people's hopes, especially in his character as the great High Priest; she

replied," He saves to the uttermost." After
a pause, she said, "But suppose it should
be all a delusion." It was replied, "That
can never be; has he not said, ' Heaven and
earth shall pass away, but my word shall
never fail ?"" Beside this, we never heard
a doubt from her lips; Satan was mercifully
prevented from annoying her. One day her
husband was standing by her bed, witnessing
her agonizing sufferings, his own mind
agonized at the sight; he said to her, "Oh,
that I could bear your sufferings for you,
dear." She looked at him in a manner alt
her and said," Take care-be still and
own,
know that I am God." On the morning of
the 21st, after a night of peculiar suffering,
her husband asked her how her mind had
been? she said, "He has told me he will
deliver me: he smote, but he will deliver
me."
She was asked, "How do you inter-
pret that? that you will recover ?" "Oh,
no," she replied. In consequence of her
extreme weakness, much of what she said
was lost, and we did not like to put her to
the pain of repeating it. To two of our
friends she said, " Have Christ in your heart,
heaven in your eye, and the world beneath
your feet." To her niece, who stood by her
fanning her, she said, "No pain, no fainting,
in heaven." On the 22nd, after she had
been made more comfortable, she repeated
the lines-

"Comfort through all this vale of tears,
'Tis only Christ can give."

On the morning of the 24th, she said to her husband, "A present help in trouble." "You find him so ?" "Oh, yes." The last time her husband prayed with her while she was sensible, he asked her, "What shall I pray for?" "Pray that I may be faithful unto death." Her mind through all her illness was in a sweet spiritual frame. To every one who visited her she had a word to say on divine things. She asked one, as the sun shone on her bed, "Does the Sun of Righteousness shine on your soul as the sun shines on my bed? He does on my soul." Several friends visited her till the last few days, when we were obliged to admit none to the room but those who were about her. The last twenty-four hours she was insensible to all around her; but was evidently in great pain; and on the night of November 27th, at about a quarter to eleven, she peacefully breathed her soul into the bosom of her Saviour. She sleeps in Jesus.

On Lord's-day, December 5th, a funeral sermon was preached at Prescott, to a