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missionary had actual and living fruits to his ministry; men and women were truly brought out of the darkness of idolatry to spiritual worship and faith in Christ. Some of them were never added to the church, so that, after all, a much wider influence was extended than any statistics can show. To give one or two instances of this: A girl in the Bible Class was taken off by cholera, of whose eternal safety the friends had well-grounded hope. There was an aged woman who had been all her life a Roman Catholic, she found the Saviour, and renounced Rome; the priest threatened, but she replied, "I am not afraid of your curse now, I have learned that it is Jesus Christ only that can forgive sins, and to him only shall I henceforth look for salvation." Under another date, we read of a European who had lived thirty years in India, and been the whole time as godless as the heathen; he was truly converted to God, and in his last illness the missionaries saw him often, "and witnessed his firm confidence in Christ, and his patient resignation to the divine will." Again, at one of the visits to Hajipore, a man in the crowd shouted, during the sermon, Who is Jesus?" when an unknown voice replied, " He is God, the Lord of all, who else is he?"

If our object in repeating these facts was to honour the memory of one man only, we should feel great difficulty lest we refer to the labours of John Parsons fruit which really belongs to others. When several Christian men are working together, it is impossible, and perhaps undesirable, to determine what each contributes to the general results. In the present instance there is no intention to forget the labours of Mr. Lawrence, who has had a longer day of toil than John Parsons, or of other coadjutors. With them and native brethren, long tours of weeks and even months' duration were made, in the villages of the province. Mr. Parsons knew what danger was, for once on an excursion of this sort, his tent was stripped by thieves. It is not every man who would be able to itinerate in our own country, and if you add to the difficulties of such work in England, the disadvantages of a foreign clime, people of strange custom and language, gross superstition, vicious habits, which always foster suspicions of a most unworthy character, you will see the physical and moral courage required for such efforts. All honour, then, to men who will boldly and efficiently execute them.

And yet perhaps the most important work which John Parsons did for India was in the study, and through the press. It is not possible to conceive of a more blessed employment than that of translating the Bible into the languages and dialects of the earth. In India the great variety of languages renders it necessary that the translation should be executed a great many times, while our gradually increasing knowledge of these languages compels frequent revision of the translations already made. We cannot say how many editions of the Scriptures have been issued for India, but we believe that one society has issued no less than thirty-eight.

The Hindi version, that used in the north-west provinces, was commenced in the year 1802; the complete edition was issued in 1823. The revision of this was begun by the missionary, Mr. Leslie, but before any results of his labours were published he removed to Calcutta, and left the matter in the hands of John Parsons. This was in 1852, and this latter tells us in one of his letters he had revised the four gospels and the Acts in eighteen months. Not yet satisfied with his work, he went over it again, receiving valuable help from a Christian layman, until at last Matthew and Mark were printed at Calcutta about the end of 1856. He now undertook the task of revising the whole of the New Testament, and that he might have the advantage of being surrounded by a population speaking the language he removed to Agra. His plan of work, he tells us, was to make two copies of his revision; one of them he sent to two of his missionary brethren, the other was sent to the Christian layman referred to above. These friends suggested corrections and improvements, after which the whole was read over with a pundit. In this way different portions were completed, and then once more, before it went to press, he revised the whole. How many times he read the New Testament through in this work of revision we

cannot say; but he had a high aim, one that demanded the most deliberate caution. He says concerning this: "I should deem myself extremely happy if I were able to elaborate a version which should afterwards require only slight alterations, at least through many editions, until, under more favourable auspices, when the Hindoo language shall have been improved by cultivation, and really learned natives, familiar with the original tougues, shall come to this work, a standard version of the Scriptures in Hindoo shall be prepared for the—not hundreds, but hundreds of thousands-who shall reverently study them as the oracles of God, the glad tidings of salvation, and their only rule of faith and prac tice." How far he succeeded in this great object time only will show; but we learn that the prospect is promising from the following testimony by the missionary, Mr. Lewis, of Calcutta :-" As a translator," says Mr. Lewis, his Hindi version of the New Testament has received the highest commendations from the most competent judges, whilst he also enriched native Christian literature with other valuable books." These other valuable books include a hymn-book for the use of native churches, the metre being adapted to Hindoo tunes, and that world-wide allegory, the "Pilgrim's Progress." When death cut short his labours he had nearly completed the" Peep of Day," to be used in the Zenana work. Yes, death cut short his labour. We must hasten to the closing scene. have by us testimonies to his character, given in various ways, by his brethren in India; the earliest is dated 1850, the latest is dated 1869. But these are not wanted, his greatest eulogy is a life consecrated to the service of Christ; and if this sketch at all represents the facts of that life, that he is worthy of such a eulogy must be felt by every one of our readers. On Sunday, 17th October, 1869, he preached twice to his own congregation; on the Tuesday following he spoke at a prayer meeting some distance from home-his throat had been uneasy during the day and speaking aggravated it; he returned to his home on Wednesday, and tried his own remedies, which giving no relief, a physician was called early on Thursday morning. On Friday the report was, the crisis passed and the sufferer out of danger; he continued to improve on Saturday and Sunday, but on Monday he was not so well; on that night two friends sat up with him. About two in the morning he said he felt better, and rising, walked about the room; suddenly he seemed to be exhausted, they assisted him to an easy chair, he rested a few minutes, when his head fell backward. his countenance slightly changed, he drew one or two long breaths, and his life of happy, useful toil had ended—the life of eternal rest had begun.

WONI

John Ploughman on Clever People.

We

WONDERFUL men and white rats are not so scarce as most people think. Folks may talk as they like about the King of Prussia, and that sharp gentleman Bismarck, but Jack, and Tom, and Harry, and scores more that I know of, could manage their business for them a fine sight better, at least they think so, and are quite ready to try. Great men are as plentiful as mice in an old wheatstack down our way. Every parish has one or two very wonderful men; indeed, most public houses could show one at least, and generally two; and I have heard that on Saturday nights, when our Blue Dragon" is full, there may be seen as many as twenty of the greatest men in all the world in the taproom, all making themselves greater by the help of pots of beer. When the jug has been filled and emptied a good many times, the blacksmith feels he ought to be prime minister; Styles, the carter, sees the way to finish the war, and Old Hob, the ratcatcher, roars out

"They're all a pack of fools,
And good-for-nothing tools;
If they'd only send for me,
You'd see how things would be."

A precious little is enough to make a man famous in certain companies; one fellow knocked a man's eye out at a prize-fight; another stowed away twice as much pudding as four pigs could have disposed of; another stood on his head and drank a glass of beer; and perhaps another grinned through a horse-collar, and for such things as these the sots of the village think mightily of them. Little things please little minds, and nasty things please dirty minds. If I were one of these wonderful fellows I would ask the nearest way to a place where nobody would know me.

I used to feel quite staggered when I heard of an amazing clever man, but I've got used to it, as the rook did to the scarecrow when he found out that it was a stuffed nothing. Like the picture which looked best at a very long distance off, so do most clever fellows. They are swans a mile off, but geese when you get near them. Some men are too knowiug to be wise, their boiler bursts because they have more steam than they can use. Simple Simon is in a sad plight in such a world as this, but on the whole he gets on better than a fellow who is too clever by half. Every mouse had need have its eyes open nowadays, for the cats are very many and uncommonly sharp; and yet, you mark my word, most of the mice that are caught are the knowing ones. Somehow or other, in an ordinary sort of a world like this, it does not answer to be so over and above clever. Those who are up to so many dodges, find the dodges come down on them before long. My neighbour Hinks was much too wise a man to follow the plough, like poor shallowpated John Ploughman, and so he took to scheming, and has schemed himself into one of the largest mansions in the county, where he is provided with oakum to pick, and a crank to turn during the next six calendar months. He had better have been a fool, for his cleverness has cost him his character. When a man is too clever to tell the truth he will bring himself into no end of trouble before long. When he is too clever to stick to his trade, he is like the dog that let the meat fall into the water through trying to catch at its shadow. Clever Jack can do everything and can do nothing. He intends to be rich all at once, and despises small gains, and therefore is. likely to die a beggar. When puffing is trusted and honest trading is scoffed at, time will not take long to wind up the concern. Work is as needful now as ever it was if a man would thrive; catching birds by putting salt on their tails would be all very well, but the creatures will not hold their tails still, and so we had better catch them in the usual way. The greatest trick for getting on in business is to work hard and to live hard. There's no making bread without flour, nor building houses without labour. I know the old saying is

"No more mortar, no more brick,
A cunning knave has a cunning trick;"

but for all that things go on much the same as ever, and bricks and mortar are still wanted.

I see in the papers, every now and then, that some of the clever gentlemen who made so many bubble companies a few years ago, are being pulled up before the courts. Serve them right! May they go where my neighbour Hinks is, every one of them. How many a poor tradesman is overhead and ears in difficulty through them! I hope in future all men will fight shy of companies, and managers, and very clever men. Men are neither suddenly rich nor suddenly good. It is all a bag of moonshine when a man would persuade you that he knows a way of earning money by winking your eye. We have all heard of the scheme for making deal boards out of saw dust, and getting butter out of mud, but we mean to go on with the saw-mill, and keep on milking the cows, for between you and I and the bed-post, we have à notion that the plans of idiots and very clever men are as like as two peas in a shell.

FA

New Fables.

CHAPTER THE FIFTH.

NABLE XXIV-Several young horses were relating their experiences. All agreed in deploring extreme nervousness. They penitentially exclaimed, Alas! what will become of us? we shy at everything, all strange objects distract us! Every bird which flies across our path alarms us! Every veering leaf makes us tremble! O that some cure could be found for this dreadful complaint!" An old roadster in the next paddock overhearing them, began to snort very vehemently. Having attracted their attention, he very patronisingly applauded their candour and affected great concern for their wellbeing; but he added, "I fear you will never entirely lose this propensity; it must be painful for you to hear what I am about to say, but the truth had better be told; the fact is, you all come of a very inferior stock; I do not wish to appear egotistic, but neither my sire nor any of our family were ever known to yield to the weakness to which you and your family are subject, we were never known to shy We have all had such strength of character that our pride would never allow us to betray the least agitation under the most trying circumstances. And I feel sure if we had fallen into the habit, we should have resolutely striven against it. I am sorry for you, but I fear none of you have the courage (I am humbly thankful to say) our family has always displayed." "Why don't you finish your story, my friend?" said a raven from a neighbouring tree, "Why don't you tell them that you and your sire and your entire family were and are all stone blind?"

How ready we are, like this old horse, to vaunt our superiority over the erring! If we were less vain and self-righteous we should often see that the key-stone of many of our virtues is incapacity to act otherwise. Better a thousand times is the self-accusing young colt, than the self-admiring old roadster. My best wish for you of the latter class is, that the old raven of conscience may perch on the tree nearest to you and croak to its heart's content. I assure you he is black but comely."

FABLE XXV."Unity is strength." So began a message which the porcupine sent to a beaver, a hare, and a rabbit in his neighbourhood. "And not only so, unity is warmth. The weather is bitterly keen. The nights are intolerably cold. Pray let us meet and lie close together for our mutual comfort." The message was cordially received. At nightfall the beaver and the hare and the rabbit repaired to the appointed rendezvous.

The host was at first most agreeable, and begged his guests to lie as close to him as possible, for as he said, "My dear friends, we are really one family." They were becoming very comfortable and were dozing and dreaming in the most agreeable manner. But by-and-by they became unpleasantly conscious that the porcupine had quills! At first they whispered, "Oh, it's only a troublesome dream he has!" Alas! the porcupine, regardless of his guests, began to bristle up his quills more formidably than ever. This was more than even gentle puss could bear. She led the way, and very soon all three were scampering off. Ah, groaned the porcupine, "this comes of associating with your inferiors!' Next day his temper was not at all improved by receiving a message to the effect, "Dear brother, we regret our alliance is at an end. But we assure you, the moment you get your quills under command we shall be delighted to fraternise with you.

I hope the moral won't be deemed too explicit. The fact is, you dissenters have too many quills for us clergymen by far. You kindly invite us to your Bible meetings and tract meetings, etc., etc. And really you assume such irritable superiority, and have so little regard for our feelings, that much as we desire co-operation, we must defer the gratification of our wish until-—the Millennium.

FABLE XXVI. An eagle whose nest was situated on one of the highest crags in the world, took umbrage at a neighbour whose nest was (so he imagined) slightly higher than his own. Day after day he nursed his wrath and envy, until the sight of his rival became intolerable. He resolved at length on one of the maddest schemes an eagle ever conceived. He applied in hot haste to a band of archers, offering, if they would bring down his rival, to supply them with feathers from his own wings to plume their arrows. They consented, provided the eagle would agree to be caged, in order that the contract might not be broken. So bellicose was the eagle, so blinded by passion, he agreed to the proposal. Days past. Arrow after arrow was shot in vain. Feather after feather was plucked from the eagle's wing. At length the archers succeeded-the rival eagle lay bleeding at their feet. "Now," said the caged eagle, "let me freeI will ascend to my native crag the unrivalled, undisputed master of the Sovereignty of the mountains." The cage door was flung open, the archers bowed, the eagle prepared to rise. But, alas! every feather was gone. He strove in vain, and the archers went their way laughing among themselves.

In this fable I think you may dimly see the comparative glories of victory and defeat; and I doubt not both alike are the subjects of infernal merriment, as indeed they are the results of infernal agency.

FABLE XXVII.-" My son," said an aged fly, "I am out of breath in striving to overtake you. How could you buzz about that dreadfully cruel looking man? I am sure he would have delighted to have killed you. Indeed, I saw him in his own house catching dozens of our neighbours, simply to amuse himself." "Dear mother," was the reply, "I was half afraid of him myself, for he is a very reckless, cruel looking being, but I am sure you cannot blame me for following him, as you have no idea what a large pot of superb honey he was carrying."

It matters not how unprincipled and disreputable a man may be if he have a good pot of honey. Human flies while they perceive his faults will take his favours. But human flies, one and all! let me remind you, the disreputable man with the honey pot knows as well why flies follow him as flies do themselves.

Reviews.

WE find it quite impossible to notice all the books sent us this month. We have given as much space as we can, but we cannot devote all our pages to reviews. We will try to mention those works which remain behind in our next month's issue.

Il

The World of Religious Anecdote. lustrations and Incidents gathered from the words, thoughts and deeds in the lives of men, women and books. By EDWIN PAXTON HOOD. Hodder and Stoughton.

A Companion volume to "The World of Anecdote." It contains a museum of the most heterogeneous curiosities, good, indifferent and bad. Racy everything is, certain portions are too racy; every anecdote is striking, so striking that some ought to have been struck out, or else the book should have been named, "The world of religious and irreligious anecdotes." We know no man living who can produce such be

witching books as our genial friend Mr. Hood, he makes you read him whether you will or no; but we should like his collections of extracts none the less if he sifted them a little more. The pur

chaser of this volume will not find himselt blessed with the hundredth edition of worn-out stories, he will be led into fresh fields and pastures new; but if he is on the look out for anecdotes which he can readily turn to practical purpose, he will, considering the bulk of the book, be more disappointed than gratified. We should have been very sorry to have missed a sight of this marvellous Noah's Ark of memorabilia, and we doubt not that hundreds of readers will be even more interested than we have been.

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