apart from the real beauty of the composition, is remarkable for the fact that it was written by a boy only ten years of age. The author of it was Joseph Grigg. It first appeared in an English magazine, and was entitled "Shame of Jesus conquered by love: by a youth of ten years." It was no doubt originally suggested by the shame which young people often experience in making an open and public confession of Christ's name, and in witnessing the same in the company of godless companions. This feeling of shame of religion is one of the devices of the evil one to lead the souls of men astray. It is a very common obstacle in the way of young believers particularly, and in many cases it proves almost insuperable. With this shameful threat of "what the world will say," the evil one frightens many poor timid souls away from the open door of mercy. Young men are ashamed to confess Christ's name lest their godless companions make sport of them. If these lines should chance to fall under the eye of any such, we kindly ask them, for their own soul's sake, to read this hymn, and to remember that it was written by a young boy who was in the same case as themselves. It is related that a young person who had made a profession of religion and was much teased and persecuted by godless companions, stood firm and on being asked by his pastor why he did not give way? he said: "Sir, I once heard you say in a sermon that if we let the wicked laugh us out of heaven into hell, they could not laugh us out of hell again into heaven." The youthful author of this hymn was much persecuted, for he was a mechanic and was compelled to associate with profane persons to whom all religious belief was a standing theme of jest and mockery. But he clung to Jesus, well content not to be ashamed of Jesus, and only hoping and praying that Jesus would not be

ashamed of him.

"Jesus! and shall it ever be,
A mortal man ashamed of Thee?
Ashamed of Thee! whom angels praise,
Whose glories shine through endless days?

Ashamed of Jesus! Sooner far
Let evening blush to own a star;
He sheds the beams of light divine
O'er this benighted soul of mine.

Ashamed of Jesus! just as soon
Let midnight be ashamed of noon;
Bright morning star, bid darkness flee.”
'Tis midnight with my soul, till He,

Everybody knows the good old missionary hymn, "From Greenland's icy mountains": but not everybody has heard the story of its composition. The author of it was Reginald Heber, D.D., who after the composition of the hymn, himself became a missionary to India, and died Bishop of Calcutta. He was one of the most accomplished scholars whom the University of Oxford ever produced. He was born at Malpas, in Cheshire, England, in the year 1783. At the age of seventeen he was entered at Brasenose College, Oxford, where he became a distinguished student, carrying off many of the highest prizes for poems and essays. His prize poem on Palestine is generally considered the best ever written at Oxford. His fame rests mainly upon his hymns which, as literary compositions, rank among the best in the English language. From his earliest years he was remarkable for his piety and great kindliness and affection. So great and accurate was his knowledge of the Bible that "when only five years old, when his father and some friends were discussing as to the book of the Bible where some particular passage could be found, they turned to little Reginald for information, and he soon laid finger on chapter and verse." As an instance of the pious turn of his mind, it is related that when very young, hearing the conundrum, "Where was Moses when the light went out?" be solemnly said "On Mount Nebo; for there he died, and it may be said that his lamp of life went out there." He was also so benevolent that, he would give all he had to the poor, so that his parents had to sew the bank-notes, which they gave him for his half year's school money, in the lining of his pockets, that he might not give all his money away in charity on the road to school. In 1807 he was admitted to orders, and after sixteen years of faithful labor in the ministry in England, he went to India as a missionary in 1823, where he labored for a period of three years, with such devotion to his work among the heathen that, from overexertion in an unfavorable climate, he

died in an apoplectic fit while in his bath, April 3, 1826.

Heber was the author of many hymns, all alike distinguished by finish and style, pathos, and soaring aspiration. To his poetic genius we are indebted for "Lo, He comes, in clouds descending," "By cool Siloam's shady rill," "Jesus Christ is risen to-day," "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty," "Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee," ," "and others: among which we pause to mention briefly that ever beautiful Christmas hymn-" Brightest and best of the sons of the morning.' In "the old hymn book," which is still used by many of our congregations, this hymn commences "Hail the blest morn when the great Mediator." In the new hymn book (Eastern) it stands as above

"Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid:

Star of the East, the horizon adorning,

Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.

Cold on His cradle the dew drops are shining, Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall;

Angels adore Him, in slumbers reclining,
Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all.

Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion,
Odors of Edom and offerings divine,
Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the Ocean,
Myrrh from the forest or gold from the
mine?

Vainly we offer each ample oblation,

Vainly with gifts would His favor secure : Richer by far is the heart's adoration, Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor."

When or why the first verse of this hymn was changed, the writer has been unable to discover: but, whether sung in the old way or the new, it is in every regard one of our choicest Christmas hymns.

And now we come to the story of the composition of "From Greenland's icy mountains." Heber was for many years before he himself went to India, an enthusiast on the subject of missions. In 1819, four years before he went out amongst the heathen to preach the gospel, a letter was sent forth by the king, authorizing a collection to be taken in every church and chapel in England, connected with the Establishment, for missions. On the evening of Whitsunday, which was the day appointed for

this purpose, Heber had engaged to deliver the first of a series of evening lectures in the church at Wrexham, which was in charge of his father-in-law, the Rev. Dr. Shipley. On the Saturday previous, as they were seated around the table at the parsonage, Dr. Shipley requested his son in-law to write something for them to sing in the morning, suitable to the missionary service. Heber at once retired from the little circle, and withdrew to a corner of the room.

After awhile Dr. Shipley asked "What have you written?" Heber then read the first three verses of that magnificent hymn which he had so quickly written:

From Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand,
Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand:
From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver

Their land from error's chain.

The next morning, in the Church at Wrexham, this great missionary hymn was sung for the first time, and it was not long before it was adopted all over the world, and it will never cease to be sung so long as there is a single heathen to be converted. Like many of our finest hymns, it was born on the instant, coming by a sudden flash-like inspiration and the original copy still shows that it was so accurately written that the poet afterward changed but a single word. Let it be remembered when we sing this hymn at our missionary meetings, that the author of it died a missionary among the heathen in India. NORRISTOWN, Dec. 20, 1883.

BUILDING TABERNACLES. SELECTED BY A FRIEND OF THE GUARDIAN. The following lines were written in a church. yard in Richmond, Yorkshire, by a school-boy. "It is good for us to be here; if Thou wilt, let us build three tabernacles, one for Thee, one for Moses and one for Elias."

Methinks it is good to be here;

If Thou wilt let us build, but for whom?
Nor Elias nor Moses appear.

But the shadows of eve that encompass the gloom,

The abode of the dead, and the place of the tomb.

It was, we think, the celebrated Dr. Johnson who originated the saying that a joke could not be got into a Scotch head without a surgical operation. It is a pity that some one of his Scotch cotemporaries did not retort by explaining that it was only one of his own heavy English jokes that rendered such a proceeding necessary. Scotch wit is dry and caustic, but it is keen. It is not apt to cause laughter, but sometimes it cuts like a Damascus blade. It is, however, in humor which manifests itself in a certain playfulness of speech and action, in the midst of what may be regarded by the superficial observer as "awful solemnity," that the Scotch especially excel.

The peculiarities of Scottish life and character are very completely depicted in the well-known volume of Dean

Ramsay. As the ministry of the last generation occupied a commanding position, it is but natural that they should in this volume receive a great deal of attention. The General Assembly was regarded as the most august body in the world, but its members could not fail to appreciate the quiet sarcasm of the old minister in the Canongate who always prayed, previous to the meeting, that the Assembly might be so guided as "not to do any harm."

A minister near Peebles, who had strong feelings on the subject of matrimonial happiness, was in the habit of thus addressing parties who came to be married: "My friends, marriage is a blessing to a few, a curse to many, and a great uncertainty to all. Do ye venture?" After the pause he repeated with great emphasis: "Do ye venture? No objection being made to the venture, he said, with a deep sigh: "Let us proceed!"

In old times preaching was expected to be strictly logical, and no doubt in the hands of ministers of inferior ability, the treatment of Scriptural themes sometimes became very mechanical. Many anecdotes illustrative of this infirmity are still related. There was an old clergyman who held forth on "the broken covenant until the people longed for a change. The elders waited on him to intimate their wish. They were solemnly examined as to their knowledge of the subject, found deficient, and dismissed; but after a while they returned to the charge, and the minister gave in. Next Lord's day he read a large portion of the history of Joseph and his brethren, as the subject of a lecture. He paraphrased it, greatly, no doubt, to the detriment of the original, but much to the satisfaction of the people, for it was something new. He finished the paraphrase, and now,' says he, "we shall proceed to draw some lessons and inferences; and, first, you will observe that the sacks of Joseph's brethren were ripped, and in them was found the cup; so your sacks will be ripped at the day of judgment, and the first thing found in them will be the broken covenant;' and having gained this advantage, the sermon went off in the usual strain, and embodied |

the usual heads of elementary dogmatic theology."

A similar story is related concerning a minister whose staple topics of discourse were Justification, Adoption, and Sanctification." Into every sermon he preached he managed by hook or by crook to force these three heads. Having been requested to preach on the text, "Is Ephraim my dear son? Is he a pleasant child?" he soon managed to bring the question into the usual formula by adding: "Ephraim was a pleasant child-first, because he was a justified child; second, because he was an adopted child; and third because he was a sanctified child.”

Instances of brilliant wit on the part of the Scotch clergy are not wanting. In some parts of the country it was customary for the minister to bow from the pulpit to the members of the noble families of the district as they entered the church. On one occasion, when the Countess of Mar alone occupied the family pew, the Rev. Dr. Wightman, probably from bashfulness, omitted the usual bow. The lady, who was very beautiful, met him a few days afterwards, and rallied him for his lack of courtesy. The good doctor immediately replied: "I beg your pardon, my lady, but you must surely know that angel-worship is not permitted by the Church of Scotland; and lifting his hat, he made a low bow and passed on.

Some humorous stories are related concerning answers given during the catechisings. A minister asked a catechumen: "What sort of a man was Adam?" "O," he replied, "just like other folks." The minister pressed for a more definite answer. "Well!" said the catechumen, "he was just like Joe Simson, the horse-jockey." "How so?" asked the minister. "Well! nobody got anything by him and many lost."

Lawyers are as ready with repartee in Scotland as they are supposed to be in other countries. John Clerk, afterwards Lord Eldon, was arguing a Scotch appeal before the House of Lords. His client claimed the use of a mill-stream by prescriptive right. Mr. Clerk spoke broad Scotch, and argued that "the watter had rin that way for forty years. Indeed, naebody could tell how long the