the business of the class amid the wonder and applause both of the students and of the public-to whom earnestness in the teaching of a science deemed so dry as Mathematics, was a new and a strange thing under the sun. Nor had he long to wait upon a fixed ministerial charge; having, during the session, been unanimously presented by the St Andrew's Senatus to the parish of Kilmany, then vacant and in their gift. His ordination took place in May 1803. Immediately after this we have an extraordinary episode:

"Mr Chalmers had calculated on retaining the mathematical assistantship. His ordination at Kilmany might not of itself have prevented this: for six out of the eleven years during which his own teacher, Dr Brown, had occupied that position, he was minister of the parish of Denino; and Kilmany, being only about nine miles distant, was not so remote from St Andrews as to render a similar arrangement impracticable. At the close of the session, however, his employer gave him to understand that his services would not again be required. This summary dismissal not only tore him away from an occupation which he loved, and confined him to one in which he felt as yet but little interest; it seemed also to close up the avenue along which his brightest hopes had been moving. Inefficiency as a teacher had been alleged as the ground of it; and if that allegation were received, his prospects of academic distinction would be blasted. And was it thus that all his most cherished hopes were to be defeated? Was that hand, which had shut so sharply against him the way of return even for another winter to the mathematical class-room of St Andrews, to be permitted to do him the still weightier injury of closing every door to university preferment? Not without a vigorous effort to repair this injury-to right this wrong! To clear his impeached reputation from the reproach which had been thrown upon it, he resolved to open next winter in St Andrews mathematical classes of his own-rivals to those of the University. All opposition which might arise elsewhere, he was fully prepared to brave; but there was one quarter in which, by early and kindly application, he fain would soften it down.

"Kilmany, October 18, 1803. "DEAR FATHER,-You may perhaps by this time have heard of my intention to open mathematical classes next winter. I believe the measure will be opposed by a certain party of the St Andrews professors; but I am sure they will not be able to ruin the success of my intended proceedings, except by having recourse to dishonourable practices. These artifices I shall be obliged to expose for my own vindication; but my chief anxiety is to reconcile you to the idea of not confining my whole attention to my ministerial employment. The fact is, that no minister finds that necessary. Even at present I am able to devote as much time and as much attention to other subjects as I will be under the necessity of doing next winter, and after all I discharge my duties, I hope, in a satisfactory manner. With regard to non-residence that is only to last for six months. I have never been called to any incidental duty through the week but once, and I have the assurance of my two neighbours that they will attend to every ministerial office that may be necessary. Your apprehensions with regard to the dissatisfaction of the parishioners, are, I can assure you, quite groundless. I feel the footing on which I stand with them, and am certain that no serious or permanent offence will ever be excited. .-Yours affectionately,

THOMAS CHALMERS."

"St Andrews lies so much out of the line of the great rolling current of public life, that in general it enjoys a very unbroken rest. The genius of the place its slumbers by the step of this bold invader from is repose-a repose, however, which, startled from Kilmany, was now for a season effectually put to flight. The professors met in hurried consultationthe students were agitated and divided-the hearts of many siding with the youthful devotee, who came to redeem his injured scientific honour. The general public, dependent either for actual subsistence or for all social fellowship upon the colleges, looked with wonder at the sight of an open and declared rivalry establishing itself within the very shadow of the University. A brief and broken journal of this memorable winter is still preserved, exhibiting in its pages the tossings of the stormy waters..

"No hostile influences could quench the admiration which kindled around such a lectureship. The tide of opposition was already fast subsiding-it was now turned into a tide of applause, bearing the lecturer on its swelling bosom high above all the difficulties of his position. Even from the beginning there had been much in that position to win favour in the eyes of the independent and the generous-hearted. The impetuous manliness-the open-hearted honestythe unwavering purpose-the indomitable energy displayed-these went far to redeem it from the charge of impropriety and imprudence; whilst in the very act of a single unbefriended youth braving the gathered enmity of a university, that he might wipe away a stain from his injured literary honour, there was a scientific chivalry, kindling in many a breast a glow of approving sympathy, which no frown of official authority could extinguish. Even the stern gravity of office was at length relaxed; for although there was something of rude violence in the onset made by this invader of all university decorum, yet much of the true academic spirit broke out at every stage of the assault. It was not that he loved his alma matter less-it was that he loved her all toa well, that he was heard now thundering so impetuously at her gates. And although strong personal feeling was at times expressed, such a genial humanity breathed about him who uttered it, that the very professor upon whom his stroke at first seemed to fall the heaviest, was one of the first to extend to him the forgiving hand of friendship."

(To be continued.)

DAVID AND THE WELL OF BETHLEHEM.

Louisa. Mother, I have been reading about David. When he was in the cave of Adullam, and the Philistines were at Bethlehem, David longed for some water of the well that was by the gate of Bethlehem. And three of his men went and got. some of the water, and then he would not drink it. After they had taken so much trouble to get it, I do not think he should have thrown it away.

Mother. The motive which led him to refuse to drink the water was certainly creditable to him. He had unwisely expressed a wish for some water, which could not be procured without great peril. Some of his friends risked their lives to procure it, David became sensible of the impropriety of allowing He felt that he had been thoughtlessly selfish. men to peril their lives for so small a gratification. He would show his regard for his friends, by refusing to partake of a gratification purchased at the hazard of their lives. There are several important duties

suggested by this incident-can you think of any one of them?

L.-We should not express a desire for things which it will give our friends a great deal of trouble to procure for us.

M.-Children often give their parents unnecessary trouble by the thoughtless expression of their desires. A little girl, whose mother was obliged to work very hard for her support, once saw a gay dress, and expressed a very strong desire to possess one like it. Her mother procured one for her; but was obliged to deny herself many comforts in consequence. The little girl was very sorry when she found she had put her mother to so great inconvenience. She resolved that she would be careful in future not to express a desire for a thing which her mother could not afford to get for her.

L.-Her mother should not have got it for her. M.-A mother's affection will willingly make great sacrifices for the gratification of her child. The child should not take advantage of that affection for selfish ends, but should be as anxious to save the parent from trouble as the parent is to gratify the child. Another duty which is suggested by this portion of David's history is, that we should never cherish a desire for objects which the providence of God has placed beyond our reach. We should be content with such things as we have, and such things as can be acquired by lawful efforts. A discontented, complaining spirit, renders one very unhappy, and is very displeasing to God.

L.-Our Sabbath school teacher advised us to avoid the habit of saying,-I wish I had this, and I wish I had that.

M.-The advice was wise. The free expression of a desire for any thing tends to increase that desire. If we feel conscious of an improper desire, one way of preventing its increase is never to give it any expression. Besides, the expression of idle wishes subjects us to the condemnation which the Saviour informs us follows the utterance of idle words. Can you think of any other duty suggested by this incident?

L.-We must not desire any thing which will injure others.

M.-Paul had regard to this principle of duty, when he declared that he would not even eat meat if it caused his brother to offend; that is, if in any way it caused others to sin. We must not only confine our desires and efforts to things lawful in themselves, but to things which will not prove injurious to others. We must not only strive to do good-we must also strive to avoid doing harm. When we have done injury to others, it is not enough for us to say we did not design to do it. What is the worst kind of injury that we can do to others?

L.-To injure their character-to report falsehoods about them.

M.-To report falsehoods about one may injure his reputation, but not his character. Injury done to reputation is a great evil, but injury done to character is a much greater one. Character is injured when wrong habits of thought, feeling, and action, are induced. To injure the character is to

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injure the soul. Soul-injury is the highest injury that can be inflicted on a man. Injuries done to property, to reputation, and even to life, are small, compared with those done to the soul. Be very careful that you do not injure, either by design or thoughtlessness, the souls of your companions. It is often done. Many who would by no means inflict a blow upon the body of another, or destroy the smallest portion of his property, thoughtlessly, and sometimes wilfully, inflict injuries upon the soul, from which it will never recover to all eternity. There is another thought suggested by the conduct of David in relation to the water. He refused to partake of it because it was too costly for him to drink. It was procured at the hazard of the life of his dearest friends. So, when we are tempted to indulge in sin, we must say, it is too costly an indulgence. It cost the agony and bloody sweat of the Son of God. Christ died to put an end to sin. Whenever we indulge in sin, we do what we can to render his sufferings and death in vain.

ABEL.

IN a thicket by the hill-side,
Where his own rude altar stood,
With the furrow soil upon him,
Doubled up and roll'd in blood;

And a leopard, like the watcher
Of that still and solemn place,
On the trampled mosses lying,
Peering in his passive face;

Crouching in his savage wonder,
Crouching low by cheek and limb,
Sightless eyeballs, vague obstruction,-
Fearful presences to him.

In a thicket by the hill-side,
Crusted with his clotted blood,
Is the silent victim hidden
From the eye of man or God.

Hear the slow majestic accents
Falling on the murderer,
From the folding clouds above him,
From the hush'd and breathless air.

See, he bows his head in anguish
As the thrilling curse goes on:
Now the heavenly voice is silent,
And the fugitive is gone:

From those peaceful happy places,
Outcast, striding forth alone;
Mournful eyes of all the ages
Turning backward to his own.

Striding forth alone for ever,-
Burning brow, convulsive breath,
And the mark of God upon him,
Strange, mysterious mark of DEATH!

DEATH,--relentless, stern intruder;
Never in the years before
Had its chill and pallid presence
Pass'd within life's iron door.

DEATH,-from out the pregnant future

Rise its tones of fear and pain,
Voices from the graves of Abel,
Echoes of the curse of Cain.

MOTHER, DO YOU PRAY WITH YOUR

SON?

IN visiting some of my parishioners some time since, I called upon one of them, a good pious mother. Upon my inquiring into the spiritual condition of the family, she began rather dolorously to speak of her only son. She said that she had frequently conversed with him, had endeavoured to interest him in the Word of God, had reasoned with him on the danger of his dying in a state of impenitence, and, as she expressed it, "all to no purpose." He remained a thoughtless, careless youth. That lad was by no means deficient in mental abilities, and he had made good use of the advantages of a public school. Yet he gave no indications of being interested in the one thing needful.

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I replied to her, "All that you have done is very well, and that, as a pious mother, you feel deeply concerned respecting your dear boy, I cannot doubt; but there is one thing perhaps you have omitted." Pray," said she, evidently surprised at my remark, "what is that?" I answered, "Have you ever prayed with your son?" From the change upon her countenance, I inferred that she was perplexed in mind. Endeavouring to relieve her embarrassment somewhat, I remarked, "That you have prayed for your son, I already supposed; but does he know that fact?" The question seemed to awaken a train of thought which had before never occupied her mind. That she was a praying mother, I had no reason to doubt; but the moral influence of prayer for her child, within his hearing, she had never perbaps thought of before.

his mother. Mrs

I then mentioned the case of the lamented Barr: that devoted servant of God attributed, in a good degree, his attention to divine things to the prayers of was interested in the narrative. After some further conversation upon the subject, I mentioned that, some twenty years since, there lived a youth in P- who had imbibed the common opinion that the Sabbath was designed mainly as a day of recreation. Descended from pious parents, he had been taught to pay a decent respect to the institutions of religion. With the great principles of divine truth, however, he had but a slight acquaintance. The afternoons of the Sabbath were frequently spent in rambling about the suburbs of the city. It so happened one afteruoon, as he descended from his room to take his usual stroll, he overheard a voice as if engaged in prayer. His mother's room door stood ajar, and that voice was his mother's. In a low plaintive tone, of unusual kindness, tremulous with age, and somewhat affected by disease, these words reached the ears of that lad: "God bless ." I do not know whether these words were the special means in the hands of God's Spirit of leading that soul to God, yet they had their effect. The stroll of that afternoon was taken, but not with its usual zest. Those few words of a mother's prayer seemed to reach the very depths of that

WHAT are you doing with your Sabbaths? God saith, "Remember the Sabbath-day, to keep it holy." -Do you remember, and keep it holy?

In each year there are fifty-two Sabbaths; in thirty-five years, five whole years of Sabbaths! in seventy years, ten whole years of Sabbaths! Are you wasting your Sabbaths?

If so, when the day of reckoning comes, and justice says, "Pay me that thou owest," think, sinner! -what wilt thou do?

"Will a man rob God?" Alas! then wilt thou find that thou hast robbed Him of the day which he claims, "The Sabbath of the Lord thy God."

Does business get thee gain on this day? It is a hard bargain for thy soul. Does pleasure bring thee mirth? "The end of that mirth is heaviness."

How will mis-spent Sabbaths look at a dying day, and in the light of eternity?

If you have no place in God's house on earth, God hath no place for you in His house in heaven.

Distance, cares, poverty, or any feigned excuse, keep men from entering His house now, but the unchanged heart that allows these excuses will be an eternal bar to their entering His house hereafter. Excuses for the most part are like floors with the dry-rot; woe to him who trusts his weight on them.,

Sinner! it may be that thy winding-sheet is even now ready, and the wood seasoned of which thy coffin shall be made. Beware lest that vision of St John speak awful truth to thee. “And I looked and i behold a pale horse; and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him."-(Rev. vi. 8.) What would souls in hell give once more to hear those Sabbath chimes, which many now regard as little as the tinkling of a sheep-bell! What would they give once more to get the offer of mercy through Christ, which many now will not cross their threshold to obtain? What would they then give to be quit of the sting of those sins to which they now cling so closely?

Oh! Sirs, "Consider your ways." Sin is like a gold cup, with sugared poison within; it looks well, and handles well, and tastes well, but DEATH is in the drinking; the dregs will be bitter indeed.

Oh! loathe sin, and leave it. Humble yourselves before God for the past. Begin another and a better life. Come and sit at the feet of Jesus, who is the best Master, the kindest Friend, the wisest Counsellor, and the ONLY SAVIOUR. He pardons freely, blesses largely, He gives His holy Spirit to them that ask Him. Oh! come to Jesus, and you shall be SAFE and HAPPY.

You shall then know by happy experience, that

SABBATH-BREAKING AND SABBATHKEEPING THEIR RESPECTIVE REWARDS. IN one of the hill towns of New Hampshire there were two neighbourhoods-one of six families and the other five. The advantages of the two were about equal, except that the five families were about three miles further from church, and had to pass one of those mountain ridges so common in that vicinity, called "Governor's Hill." The six families were fond of social intercourse, and used to spend their Sabbaths in visiting from house to housenever visiting the sanctuary. Some of them totally disregarded the Sabbath, and all eventually formed such a habit, Each of the families had children, which grew up under their influence.

Now, mark the result. In a course of years five of these six families were broken up by the separation of husband and wife, and the other by the father becoming a notorous thief, and fleeing to parts unknown. Eight or nine of these parents became drunkards, and most of them have already found a drunkard's grave. One committed suicide, and nearly all have suffered for want of the comforts of life.

And now as to their children and grand-children. Of some forty or forty-five of them, about twenty are known to be notorious drunkards, jockeys, or gamblers. Four or five are or have been in the States' prison. One fell in a duel. Some entered the army, and have never been heard from; others have gone to sea, and never returned; and only a small number remain within the knowledge of their friends. Some are in the almshouse. Only one of the whole is known to have become a Christian, and the only one who has either a competency of property or the confidence of his neighbours was plucked as a brand from the burning, having pursued a miserable, vicious course from his youth.

And now for the other neighbourhood of five families. A strict observance of the Sabbath and attendance at the sanctuary was their prominent trait. No work was done nor visits made on the Sabbath. But all, riding or walking, were sure to be seen on their way to the house of God-not without occasional taunts from their Sabbath-breaking neighbours. These families all lived in peace, and were prospered in their labours. A large number of their children were reared up around them, which,

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with their descendants, now number from two to three hundred. Eight of ten of the children are members of the church, and adorning their profession. In but a single instance has a crime been known to have been committed by one of the descendants-and that was followed by a speedy and deep repentance; and but one is known to be intemperate. Some of them are ministers of the gospel. One is a missionary to China. Numbers are supporters and officers of churches. A colony on the prairies of the West has been planted by them, sustaining the institutions of their fathers, and are now reaping the benefits of their Sabbath-keeping habits and principles. The heads of these families lived to a good old age, and, with a score or more of their descendants, have gone down to the grave in peace; most of whom have left evidence that they died in the Lord. There has been among them no separation of husband and wife, except by death, and no suffering for want of the necessarics of life. The homestead of a number of the families is now in the hands of the third generation. These facts speak a language not to be mistaken, and they come to you from the hand of the descendants of the five families. -Puritan Recorder.

HOW THE WAGGON WAS BROKEN. "How is it, John, that you bring the waggon home in such a broken condition?"

"I broke it in driving over a stump, sir." "Where?"

"Back in the woods, half a mile, or so."

"But why did you run against a stump? Could you not see to drive straight?"

"I did drive straight, sir, and that is the very reason why I drove over it. The stump was directly in the middle of the road."

"Why, then, did you not go round it?" "Because, sir, the stump had no right to the middle of the road, and I had a right to it."

Why, father, do you think that I am going always to yield my rights? Not I."

"But what is the use, John, of standing up for your rights, when you only get a greater wrong by so doing?"

"I shall stand up for them at all hazards."

after you must furnish your own waggons." Well, John, all I have to say is this. Here

This little dialogue between John and his father, recalls to our memory many a difficulty in which we have seen men involved because they would not consider how things are, but only how they ought to be. My neighbours, for example, ought all to be kind and accommodating (we put, of course, not our own individual case, but the case of any man), but perhaps one of them is selfish and of a disobliging temper; and, were I to attempt the work of making him over again, I should have more than my hands full. Now, though I ought not to do any thing to humour him which shall involve a sacrifice on my part of Christian principle, yet I shall do well to recollect not only what he should be, but what he is. This will save me from many unpleasant collisions

with him in little matters, which would be of no benefit to him, and which would greatly injure me. It may be, abstractly considered, right for me to kill his geese when I find them trespassing on my fields, if he will not keep them yoked. But I shall probably find that this business of geese-killing will not work well either for his reformation or for my comfort.

To all who would go through life pleasantly and usefully, we would say-Consider not only what ought to be, but what is.-Ohio Observer.

THE AGED SIAMESE.

THE Rev. Mr Mattoon, Presbyterian missionary in Bangkok, in giving an account of the dreadful ravages of the cholera in that city, relates the following incident:

us,

Among all who, by this fearful calamity, have been called to their final account (and the number is said to be 20,000), we know of but one of whom it may truly be said, "He sleeps in Jesus." And his case has been so interesting and encouraging to that I must mention it here as some alleviation to the dark picture which my letter has thus far presented. A few weeks since, an aged Siamese found his way to the station of our Baptist friends. His hair was already white from age, one eye was entirely blind, and his general appearance was not specially interesting. His home was five days' journey to the north-east of Bangkok. He had never before met with a Christian missionary, but at different times, and by various means, had obtained Christian books. Some of them he had found partially torn up and thrown away. These he had carefully preserved, and attentively read. It had been seven years since he had commenced reading Christian books, and several years since he had been convinced of the wickedness of idolatry, and the truth of Christianity. He had now, for the first time, found his way to the missionaries, and wished to be taught more perfectly in the Christian religion. Mr Jones says, that in conversing with him he was astonished at his knowledge of the Scriptures. He seemed filled with the Word of God. When asked, Who had been his teacher? he replied, "Jesus; has he not said, Ask, and ye shall receive?" According to his own desire, he was permitted to remain a few weeks upon the mission premises, attending upon the means of grace there enjoyed, and spending his leisure hours in reading religious books, and giving daily evidence that he was taught of God. In the mean time, the cholera made its appearance; he was among its earliest victims. Several times after his attack, he expressed his confiding trust in the Saviour; and but a few moments before his death, Mr Jones asking him if his heart was established in the faith of Christ, he replied emphatically in the affirmative. We cannot but hope that he now rests with Christ in glory. His case is a source of much encouragement in our labours, and especially in the distribution of the Scriptures and Christian books. Who knows how much seed there may be in this land, lying, as this has, for the last seven years, which may hereafter appear to the glory of God's grace?

THE RIGHT FOR ITS OWN SAKE.
(FOR MOTHERS.)

"JAMES, you must not go over that fence," said Mrs Mason to her son, who was with her on a visit to her

sister, Mrs Ward; "it is not right that you should do so."

"I know it, mother; I am only going to look over," said James.

"You had better get down," said Mrs Mason. James did so at once.

The fence in question separated the yard in which James was playing from a peach orchard, which the owner had forbidden any one to enter. The trees were loaded with fine ripe peaches, and James. thought he would climb to the top of the fence and look at them. He had no thought whatever of taking any of them. He knew it would not be right. Still he was right in promptly following the advice of his mother. It caused him to avoid temptation. We are not only to resist temptation, but to avoid it whenever duty will permit.

"I observed, sister," said Mrs Ward, "that you never say any thing to your son about the consequence of disobedience."

"I have taught him the fact, that sin will be punished; but I have avoided making mention of the penalty every time that I give a command. I do not think it wise to be dwelling constantly upon the penalty of disobedience. I think it interferes with the development of the true principle of obedience. makes the impression upon the mind of the child, that obedience is to be rendered solely to avoid the penalty of disobedience. That impression I deem to be a very unhappy one."

It

"Suppose you tell him he must not do a thing, and he asks you the reason why he must not ?"

"I should judge from the circumstances of the case whether it was best to give him a reason or not. I have laboured to teach him, that the fact that a thing is wrong, is a sufficient reason why he should that I should give no higher reason why he should not do it. I have always gone upon the assumption, do a thing, than the fact that IT IS RIGHT. I believe we are to teach our children that they are under obligation to do right, and avoid doing wrong, irrespective of the reward in one case, and the penalty in the other."

all. There are some who will not obey unless you "That may do with some children, but not with hold up the penalty of disobedience before them."

"That is true; but it remains to be considered whether the case would not have been different had care been taken to develop rightly their nature. It is rightly developed by exercise-by appealing to it. If we always act toward a child on the principle that right is the supreme law, that this is a self-evident truth, that we are under obligation to do right for its own sake, that child will never think of requiring a reason for doing right. I believe our moral nature is so constituted that it will recognise the obligation, though, from various causes, that obligation may not

be met."-Mother's Journal.

STREET PREACHERS IN GERMANY. [THE revolutions and developments of Socialism in Germany have opened the eyes of Christians to the spiritual wants of the masses of the people. And one