happiness, yet of great comfort and blessing, since the Sabbaths when, in our respective families, we worshipped God in City-road chapel! Where now are the heads of those who occupied the pews? No doubt most of them are inhabitants of another world: and we must soon follow. I don't say, "I grow old;" but, "I am old ;" and life with me, in the course of nature, must be brief. What a blessing that our God reigns in Africa as well as in England; and the path from earth to heaven is as long or short from one as the other! All space is His: eternity is His. If we are His, all is right.

I live in an insulated corner of an uneducated colony, where our recreations must arise from ourselves, or from our books..... Believe me when I say, that I love my native England,-blessed with its spiritual privileges, its Ministers, and all its hosts of

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Christians,-yea, better than ever I loved it when an inmate of its happy clime. But my calling has led me to a very different path; and I can only say, God's will be done!.. I had hoped to visit England once more, but now see little prospect. Africa is, on the whole, a fine climate; and a living is to be earned in any part. But, when you say that, it must be taken in an African style,many things very uncongenial with an English mind; the very low grade of education, the bad roads, the slow travelling; the great distance that you are, when residing in the country, from any neighbour; and the parish-church is two days' journey from our house! All these things differ greatly from London but GOD IS THE SAME, on India's burning shore and in Lapland's icy clime.... May He bring us to His heaven of glory!

MEMOIR OF JOHN HARDISTY,

STONEMASON, YORK.

JOHN HARDISTY was born in the village of Terrington, Yorkshire; and, at the age of seventeen, he was put apprentice to a stonemason, in the village of Boston, near Tadcaster, in the same county. Soon after this, he began to attend the religious services of the Wesleyan Methodists there. Up to this time he had been thoughtless and prayerless, and, not unfrequently, vicious; but, in 1827, the Tadcaster Circuit was visited with an extensive revival of religion; and among the villages which experienced the benefit, Boston was one. John was convinced of sin under the ministry of the word, and for a fortnight his mental sufferings were great. An aged member of the society conducted him to a class, and during the meeting he received a sense of pardon. It was soon evident that his whole character had undergone a change. He was a new creature in Christ. He likewise began to be deeply concerned for his former companions, desiring that they should enjoy the blessings which had been conferred on himself: he therefore embraced every opportunity of conversing affectionately with them, and entreating them not to continue neglecting the things belonging to their peace. And his earnestness, enforced as it was by the proofs of sincerity afforded by his conduct, was in several instances successful. He was accustomed to say to them, "Religion will answer well under all circumstances. In prosperity or adversity, quiet or trial and temptation, health or sickness, it will be found to be the one thing needful. But it will answer best of all at the end. It is the only thing to make a man comfortable on a dying bed, and happy in the prospect of a near eternity." His parents, too, were won by his persuasion and behaviour; and when they were taken from him, he had the unspeakable consolation of knowing that they had died in the Lord. In 1830 he removed to Hull, and afterwards, in pursuit of employment, to Staffordshire and Lincolnshire. Wherever he went, he was acknowledged to be an industrious workman, and a zealous Christian. He was not satisfied unless he saw religion in a prosperous condition; and to promote this, he employed himself in various ways when his day's labour had concluded. Ultimately he settled in York, where he maintained the character which, from the time of his conversion, had undergone no change, save in the way of improvement. He was very useful in meetings for prayer. His spirit was like that of Jacob. He was one who knew how to "wrestle" and "prevail."

Some of the principal features of his character may be briefly noticed.

1. He was a man of genuine and decided

piety. In his somewhat homely way he would sometimes observe, "It will not do to serve God by halves. We must be the Lord's on His own terms, and His altogether." Such were his firm convictions, and they were manifested in his whole deportment. He had made up his mind to save his soul; and by this resolution, in which he never wavered, he was governed in all that he did. What was right he would do, whatever he might be likely to lose: what was wrong he would not do, whatever gain might be promised. He never concealed his religion to avoid the reproach of the cross. He enjoyed the presence of Christ in his heart, and was never ashamed before men of Christ or His cause.

2. He was very diligent in the attention which he paid to religious duties, and especially to those of the closet. He was not one of those who are lively when animated by the presence and life of others, but dull and lukewarm when alone with their God. Besides his regular morning and evening prayers, whenever it was possible, he would retire for secret duties after every meal. The Sabbath was wholly devoted by him to God and religion. When he was not in the public ordinances, he was shut up in his closet, The Sabbath afternoon was usually spent in these devotional exercises; and thus, he considered, he was preparing himself for the more profitable attendance on the public service in the evening. He had not the opportunity of reading much; indeed, his early education and habits had not been favourable to mental improvement. But he read the word of God constantly and carefully, regarding this as equally a privilege and a duty. He read it religiously, that he might learn the will of God in Christ Jesus, concerning him. The testimonies of God were his delight and his counsellors. He experienced, also, both pleasure and profit in reading the Sermons and Journals of Mr. Wesley.

3. He was a man of great modesty; and though warm in temperament, and zealous in religion, he strongly disliked, and carefully avoided, all display. And there was no affectation in this. He was satisfied with the goodness of God, and, walking humbly with his heavenly Father, was quite willing to be "little and unknown." His "praise was not of men, but of God."

4. He was not only consistent as a Christian generally, but as belonging to a particular religious society he was faithful to his brethren. He was a true-hearted Wesleyan. In connexion with Wesleyanism he had obtained his first religious good; and in connexion with them, likewise, had his spiritual life been sustained. And as he advanced in years, and had increasing opportunities of observation and reflection, the more firmly

based on principle did his attachment become. The doctrines he heard he believed to be those of the word of God; and he rejoiced in those provisions for spiritual preservation and improvement which Wesleyanism affords. He approved of the discipline of the body, believing it to be in agreement with Scripture, and such as ought to be established and maintained in a Christian church. He "meddled not with them that are given to change."

5. A class had been entrusted to his care, and as a Leader he was faithful. The office itself he considered to be so important, that it was only by the importunity of the Minister who wished to place him in it, that he was induced to accept it. It was a rule with him, which he always observed when it was practicable, to spend nearly an hour in private, before he began to meet his class, praying earnestly, meditating deeply, and seeking in this way to be prepared for greater usefulness among those over whom he watched with conscientious care. Indeed, the office was to him an occasion of good, as it led him to seek earnestly for more stability and richness in personal religion. He once observed to a friend, "An ordinary baptism will not do for one who has a flock to feed." He seemed to act on the principle that he who is called to give much, ought to have much to give.

As John's constitution was good, it was hoped that he would spend many years on earth, usefully employed in his temporal vocation, as well as in his religious connexions. But Providence had determined otherwise; and in the prime and vigour of his days, when only thirty-five years of age, it pleased God to call him to a better state. But he had chosen God as his portion for life and death, for time and eternity, and therefore he was not found unprepared. In the latter end of the summer he was taken ill; and though medical aid was sought, and skilfully applied, it was soon seen that the "sickness was unto death." At first there appeared to be a natural clinging unto life, and there was a mighty struggle with him fully to sink into the divine will; and this for a short time brought darkness on his mind. He was visited by a friend, to whom he spoke freely concerning his state. "Pray for me," he said, "that I may now have a clear sky, and a bright sun-setting at the last." During prayer the victory was given, the clouds were dispersed, and the Christian friends did indeed rejoice together "with joy unspeakable and full of glory." From this time his whole soul appeared to be in the heaven to which he was hastening. On one occasion he said to a friend, "I have been thinking that I shall be in the very best society. O what an honour! A poor stonemason to be associated with Patriarchs, and Prophets, and Apostles, and with all the saints of God!" He sent word to the mem

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bers of his class that they must resolve and labour to meet him in heaven. "Tell them," he added, "I have laid down my mallet and chisel, and soon I shall take up the harp, and receive from my Saviour a crown that fadeth not away." And at another time, he again referred with a smile of peace and joy to his cessation from earthly employment. "I have put off my leather apron, and I shall soon have the white robe, washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb." He frequently remarked, that what he had felt of the power and sweetness of religion in life, was all as nothing compared with what he had experienced on the bed of afiliction and death. He said that his happiness was almost more than he could bear, in the weakness to which illness had reduced him. He was sensible and happy to the last, and "passed through death triumphant home" with remarkable self-possession and fortitude. About five in the morning of the 22d of October, (1844,) the day on which he died, he observed that he felt a singular sensation, and asked what it was. His friend, who sat by him, saw by his countenance that a change had taken place, and said, "It is the last enemy: you are beginning to struggle with him." He made no reply, but composed himself for a little rest. Convulsions, however, soon came on, and continued for several hours. About noon they ceased, and he was enabled to converse with his friend.

He spoke of death with great composure, and blessed God that his mind was so serene. Soon after he remarked, "I cannot see. What is the cause?" The reply was, "John, you are now in the valley of death: we hope you feel that the good Shepherd is with you." "O yes," he immediately rejoined,

His

He is: I have my eye fixed on Him." He was then still for a little while, after which he feebly said, "Feel my pulse." friend did so, and observed, "The struggle is almost over." He said distinctly, and they were his last words, "Thank God, I shall soon be at home." Without any struggle he soon after ceased to breathe.

Thus died John Hardisty, a plain man, in humble life, with no particular attainments distinguishing him from the class to which he belonged. Yet the day of low and humble things is no more to be despised than the day of small and feeble things. In the complicated order of society, such a class is as necessary for the general good as any one which may require the performance of duties of a character more attractive to public notice. The Minister of State, the philosopher, and others occupying a more elevated position, are all useful in their place. Society needs them. And so does it need servants, mechanics, stonemasons. In the sight of God, he is the truly honourable man who conscientiously fulfils his course, and in his providential condition " serves his generation by the will of God." And this John Har

disty did. Industrious in his calling, he likewise feared, loved, and served God. As a servant of Christ, he was faithful through the grace of his Lord. An honest and industrious workman, he was also a true and zealous Christian. Animated by the love of Christ, he loved the souls of his fellow-men, and sought to promote their salvation. In the sphere in which he was placed, he caused his light to shine, that God might be glorified; and it shone clearly, brightly, and to the end. He did his own work, and, by the grace and blessing of God, he did it well and successfully. In the eye of those who only regard worldly splendour and notoriety, the life of such a man may

possess no particular interest. To the Christian it will be full of encouragement and instruction. True honour arises not from position, but from the faithful discharge of the duties of our position, whatever it may be. And" such honour have all the saints" of God. And let the death-bed of John Hardisty say whether religion is a vain thing. He chose it, believing it was "good to live with, best to die with." And he experienced that so it was. His prayer was answered. In the weeks of mortal affliction he had "a clear sky," and at the hour of death he had "a bright sun-setting." DANIEL WALTON.

THE ROYAL EXCHANGE.

BETWEEN ten and eleven o'clock on the night of January 10th, 1888, returning from spending the evening with a friend at Islington, when about to turn out of City-road, towards Hoxton, we saw, straight before us, a bright light, rising high up in the air, which told us of a large fire in that direction. We thought of the Bank, and of the MansionHouse; and, impelled by curiosity, hastened onward, the lurid reflection from the clouds becoming increasingly powerful. Before we had reached Finsbury-square, we heard that the Royal Exchange was burning. When we arrived at the spot, the flames were

bursting forth from the north-eastern portion of the building with great fury. It was evident that the element of which it is often said that "it is a good servant, but a bad master," had indeed ceased to be servant, and was become, to the noble building in which so many persons from almost all parts of the world had been accustomed to assemble, a ruthless and destructive master. Nothing could check the devastation. The flames proceeded along the sides of the building till, towards midnight, they reached the tower over the entrance from Cornhill. The grasshopper-vane at the top, which had so long reflected not only the bright sun

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shine of day, but the milder beams of the moon by night, now reflected a splendour greater, because nearer. It was really a melancholy sight to see it in the light which was so soon to be the occasion of its fall. The face of the old clock, too, which had so often warned the assembled merchants of the progress of time, was now showing that the last hour of the building had come. At midnight the chimes were heard, for the last time, faintly amidst the rush of the flames, the falling of timbers, and the din of engine-men and spectators, sounding forth the notes of the old Scotch air, "There's nae luck about the house," &c. The work of devastation was soon complete; and, though the embers were glowing through the night, and smoking all the following day, the Royal Exchange had fallen.

The building thus destroyed was erected soon after the great fire of London, in 1666. The prior erection was the gift of one of the merchant-princes of London, Sir Thomas Gresham, one of the members of an ancient Norfolk family, but who was born in the metropolis, A.D. 1519. He received a liberal education, but was destined for the pursuits of commerce. He was employed by both Edward VI. and his sister, in negotiating foreign loans. He realized a princely fortune, and was knighted by Elizabeth, in 1569. He built a noble house in Bishopsgate-street, near the place where the Excise Office now stands, and lived in great splendour. The Queen often consulted him on commercial affairs, and occasionally commissioned him to receive and entertain foreign visiters of high rank. Before his days, the merchants had been accustomed to meet in a place without shelter in Lombard-street. He offered to erect a suitable building for them, such as he had seen abroad, if the citizens would provide the ground. This was purchased, in Cornhill, in 1566; and, on January 23d, 1570, the Queen (Elizabeth) visited Sir Thomas at his own house, dined with him, and having inspected the new building, caused it to be proclaimed, with the sound of trumpets, as the "Royal Exchange."

After this had been destroyed in the Fire of London, a new one was erected, on a larger scale, at the cost of nearly £60,000, a much larger sum in those days, viewed comparatively, than at present. Here the

London merchants transacted business, meeting, many of them, customers and correspondents from almost all parts of the globe. Addison has, as usual, some soberlyphilosophical, elegantly-expressed reflections on the scenes presented by the Exchange:"I have often been pleased to hear disputes adjusted between an inhabitant of Japan and an Alderman of London; or to see a subject of the Great Mogul entering into a league with one of the Czar of Muscovy. I am infinitely delighted by mixing with these several ministers of commerce, as they are distinguished by their different walks and different languages. Sometimes I am jostled among a body of Armenians; sometimes I am lost in a crowd of Jews; and sometimes I make one in a group of Dutchmen. I am a Dane, Swede, or Frenchman at different times; or rather fancy myself like the old philosopher who, upon being asked what countryman he was, replied, I am a citizen of the world,'" &c.

The advantages of such a building were too great and evident for the merchants of England to remain long without one. The foundation-stone of the present structure, therefore, was laid by the Prince Consort, January 17th, 1842. In less than three years the present noble edifice was completed; and, on the 28th of October, 1844, it was opened by Her Majesty, accompanied by Prince Albert, and attended by the principal officers of the Court and city. The architect was Mr. William Tite.

At

The Royal Exchange stands nearly east and west, and in form is simply oblong. the west end there is a magnificent portico, (shown in our representation,) the ascent to which is by nine low granite steps, from the triangular area in front. On this area is placed an equestrian statue of the Duke of Wellington, by the late Sir Francis Chantrey. The length of the building, from west to east, is three hundred and eight feet: its breadth is, at the west end, one hundred and nineteen feet, and at the east, one hundred and seventy-five feet. The portico is ninety-six feet wide, and seventy-four feet high, to the apex of the pediment. The columns are four feet two inches in diameter at the base, and, including base and capital, forty-one feet high. The structure is now one of the principal ornaments of the metropolis.

BLACK RAIN IN IRELAND. PROFESSOR BARKER presented to the notice of the Society a bottle, containing a portion of black rain, which had been trans

mitted to him from Carlow, with a view to satisfy the scruples of many persons who appeared to doubt that rain of this description had fallen, He had received communications