I HAD often met a singularly prepossessing old gentleman on the beach, who always appeared to wish to speak at length he moved to me, and as it was returned he took courage, and one morning began by making some trivial remark on the weather; but I merely assented to the truth of this observation, and passed on without giving him any further opportunity. He looked disappointed and I felt sorry, but I could not bring my mind to the idea of making an acquaintance in that strange place. Whilst I have time let me do good unto all men, was ever on his lips, and I frequently heard him ejaculate, 'Lord, my time is short, help me, oh help me to make the most of it.' He was a fine old man, his full and beaming eye, and the benevolent expression of his intellectual countenance, the love and respect which his winning and pleasant manners elicited, rendered him a greater object of interest than I had ever thought to meet with in a place which my diseased imagination and wounded feelings and blighted expectations had invested with all that was sad and solemn, gloomy and deadly.

One morning I repaired as early as it was light, to the grave where the mortal remains of him I loved had been deposited. I had reared a verbenum, it was my brother's favourite plant, and I thought that as the season was so mild I might plant it there and no one would find it out for many months, it was so small.

I had watered it, and I had prayed that God would help me to be resigned, and would strengthen me to tread in the steps of him who had left me so good an example of unwearied diligence in duty and fervency in spirit, that I might not any longer give way to

such hopeless sorrow, such sinful repinings, such slothful inactivity; and whilst I was asking, God was answering.

I heard a voice, it was my aged friend, the tears were trickling down his time worn cheeks, and he looked most anxiously, most beseechingly at me.

'Lady, you are up early and you are up late, this will not do, you will soon go to him unless you change your course.'

I was too much affected by the tone of interest, of earnest intreaty, of respectful sympathy with which he spoke, to make any reply, and he continued :

'Excuse the freedom of an old man, but I lodge next door, and the years have long gone by when I could go to bed and to sleep in the same instant; and I hear you, and I heard your brother, and I have prayed for you, my dear lady, that your faith fail not. I know what it is to be alone in the world. I have been alone these ten years. My Agnes was the last to go, you remind me so much of her, she pined away after a brother, a sister, a mother. . . . . . .I had not thought to have felt again the anxiety of a father, but your slender frame, your haggard expression, make me tremble for you, and I have wished and watched for an opportunity of speaking to you for the last six weeks. I want to remind you how much there is for you to do in this place; how many poor creatures are in need and necessity, in sorrow and suffering, in ignorance and darkness. Oh Lady, instead of wishing to die rather wish to live, that you may exert yourself to do good. Time is short -oh how short, but if we are but found waiting upon God in the duties of our place and station, he

will renew our strength, be better to us than our fears, bless the work of our hands, and be a very present help in time of trouble.'

How can I be of use to others, I who am so depressed, desponding, so wholly devoid of comfort in my own soul. It were absolute mockery to tell others of that peace and joy which I do not feel."

Oh, you must not say so; have you never known peace in believing? Doubt not the mercy of your heavenly father; there is a needs-be for every trial; but though heaviness may endure for a while, yet bye and bye there shall be light.

6

Why should you despond? he who has loved, has cared for you so long, will love you to the end. Remember he is the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort. You may not feel both together. Comfort may for a season be withheld, be obscured by a cloud of sorrow, but his mercy still remains. He will not break the bruised reed-fear not, only believe. He has supported me in many a rough and rugged day, and even to old age and to hoar hairs has he carried me. In a little wrath he may hide his face from us, but he says, "With everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeem

er."

But will you undertake to visit a poor afflicted creature, Mrs. Smithers, she lives somewhere under the east cliff, and I hear she is in great distress; I would have seen her long ago, but I am very feeble, and I find a toilsome expedition like this too much for me. I think the best way is round the cliff at low water. Nay, do not hesitate to act as my almoner, it will comfort me so much to think that old as I am I can yet do some good.'

Yes, the Christian is never too old or too young, too high or too low, too rich or too poor, too happy or too afflicted to be of use to his fellow creatures by his

cheerful compliance with the precept which enjoins him to do good unto all men. And yet how many are there who pass years, if not their lives in the neglect of this duty.

I question whether there be any precept of Holy Writ which is more uncongenial to the feelings and more opposed to the practice of Christians. How often do we hear a variety of bad excuses in extenuation of their conduct! Want of time, of money, of influence, of opportunities; the fear of trespassing on the clerical and pastoral office; of violating the rights and rules of political economy, and of doing harm rather than good by acts of charity. The nervous plead their weakness, the timid their fears, the slothful excess of occupation, or the activity and exertions of others which leaves them nothing to do. The residents in the metropolis and cities enlarge upon the badness of neighbourhoods, the wretchedness, vice, and roving habits of the poor, and the questionable propriety and doubtful safety of such an undertaking. And in country parishes where there cannot be the shadow of an excuse as fair and specious as the last, I have been told of the coarse vulgarity, the rough indifference, gossip-loving tittle tattling, and dirty habits, dangerous provincialisms, the ungrateful and encroaching disposition of the peasantry, and these and similar flimsy pretexts have been admitted as valid reasons against the discharge of the duties owed to those among whom their lot is cast. We know that it is not the will of our Father in heaven that one of the least, the meanest, the most degraded should perish. Let us then remember the fate of him who knew his Lord's will and did it not.

The heart that will readily admit an excuse for the omission of any known duty has need to watch and examine itself most narrowly. PERSIS.

SIR-The following answer to the oft repeated inquiry of the Romanists, Where was your religion before Luther? though somewhat quaint in its language, may be more generally interesting to your readers than the historical reply inserted in page 96 of your March No. It is extracted from Gough's Discussion of four popular questions between Papists and Protes

tants.

R.

In the time of King James II. when the papists were much countenanced, there was a coffee-house set up somewhere near the Temple, by a set of priests, to hold public conferences concerning the chief points in debate between the papists and protestants; in which one of the Jesuits generally took the protestant side of the question, that he might defend it weakly, and at length give it up. It happened one evening that they were debating on the antiquity of the church, which, indeed, they generally put in a more artful manner thus Where was your religion before the Reformation? when a shoemaker's boy came in, upon some errand or other, and listened with great attention. At length he thought he could speak better

on the subject than the pretended Protestants did, and asked whether he might have liberty to do so. They told him very courteously that he might, every body was free, they did not want to impose upon any. Why then,' says the boy, I have but little to say, but I insist upon two things-that my antagonist shall freely answer me whatever questions I ask him, and that he shall not be angry,' which was agreed to. Pray, Sir,' says he, with a grin, to an old Jesuit, 'when did you wash your face?' What is that to you, foolish boy? - ? or what is it Nay, Sir, you promised not to be angry? Why, that is true; well, child, I washed my face this morning.'' And pray, Sir, where was your face before you washed it?' • Where ! why just where it is now. Where dost thou think it was?' 6 Aye, Sir, that is exactly the case. Christianity was always the same thing; but your church sullied and dirtied it for many ages in a most beastly manner. At the Reformation we washed it clean again, and it is now where it was at first, in the Bible.'

The Jesuit had not a word to say; and the boy, by his own natural sense, gained a complete victory.

taken away.

We are not robbed of a child, but only have restored him to the lender; nor is his life extinct, but only translated to a better. The earth doth not cover our beloved, but heaven hath received him let us tarry awhile, and we shall be in his company.

S. Y.

SIR-The remark made in your Number for March, p. 115, that the majority of the Tracts of the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge are for all practical purposes useless,' induces me to send you the following list, which I feel confident cannot be met by an equal number from any other source, combining sound doctrine, church principles, valuable information, and a spirit of devotion.

I may add that the whole number of English Tracts on the Society's list is about 250, the select list which I subjoin, contains about 100; of the remainder, a considerable portion are School Books, and very good for that purpose; some are written in a style not likely to attract the poor, or are obscure and confused in doctrinal statements; and there are others which I have not many examined at all. The number which deserve censure, is very small indeed. S. T. T.

493 Coleridge's 'Why are you not a Communicant?'

168 Cottage Readings.

78 Cottage Conversations. 146 Cottagers' Religious Meditations. 326 Davys' Village Conversations on the Liturgy.

329 Ditto, on the Offices of the Church. 497 Dealtry on Religious Establishments. 148 Dialogues between a Protestant and Roman Catholic.

34 Directions for Devout Behaviour in Public Worship.

129 Directions for Right Employment of the Sabbath.

119 Diligence for both worlds.

470 Divine Obligation of Christian Sabbath.

410 Faber's Facts against the Church of Rome.

17 Faith and Duty of a Christian. 485 Father's gift.

480 Few words on the Lord's Prayer. 463 Friendly Advice on the Management of Children.

509 Happiness and Misery. 490 Heartley's

Prayer.

Plain Words about

464 Hey's Authority of a threefold ministry.

405 Hints for the Religious Education of Children.

412 Historical Questions, with Answers. 481 History of John Hardy.

157 Horne, (Bishop) on the Trinity. 427 Ditto, Prevailing Intercessor.

504 How to discern whether we have the Spirit of Christ.

103 Instructions for reading the Old Testament.