were listened to with such earnest and marked attention by the class referred to, as to gladden the hearts of the teachers, and excite in them the hope that real good will result therefrom. The teachers of SO often village Sunday schools, who lament the want of some means by which they can retain their hold upon those who leave their school on account of age, will find such services well adapted for that end. By it they are reminded of their connection with the Sunday school and of the truths there taught them; and by it, also, an opportunity is afforded of presenting the great and glorious truths of the gospel to a class who will not resort to the house of God for that purpose, presented, too, by those whom they must and do regard as their real friends. TRINITY ROAD CHAPEL, HALIFAX. On Lord's day, January the 1st, the Second Baptist church, Halifax, which has hitherto worshipped in the Horton Street rooms, took possession of the spacious school-room underneath the new place of worship in Trinity Road, when two sermons were preached by the pastor, the Rev. W. Walters, and collections made on behalf of the Sabbath school. On the following Tuesday evening, a public meeting was held in connection with the opening services. The pastor presided; and valuable addresses were delivered by Messrs. Dowson and Green, B.A., of Bradford; Stock, of Salendine Nook; Cecil (Independent), of Bramley Lane; and Howard (New The Connexion Methodist), of Halifax. friends rejoice in the increased accommodation afforded by this removal, as their former meeting place had become far too smail. They now look forward with desire to the completion of their new chapel. THONGS BRIDGE, HOLMFIRTH. A new chapel, capable of seatrng about two hundred people, and placed by the liberality of its owner at the service of the Baptist denomination, was opened at this village on Wednesday, the 4th of January. Two sermons were preached; that in the afternoon by the Rev. J. Stock, of Salendine Nook, and that in the evening by the Rev. W. Walters, of Halifax. The Rev. T. Thomas, of Meltham, and the Rev. J. Barker, of Lockwood, conducted the devotional engagements. As Mr. Beaumont, the proprietor, has built the house as a thank-offering to God for success in business, and with the hope that it may be made a blessing to the neighbourhood, he has defrayed the entire cost of its erection. Are there not many christian merchants who might go and do likewise? EDINBURGH. Richard Burden Sanderson, Esq., formerly of Newcastle-on-Tyne, has cordially accepted a unanimous invitation to take the pastoral charge of the church in Edinburgh, recently under the care of the late Rev. Christopher Anderson, and now meeting in the Theological Hall, Queen Street. WELLS, SOMERSET. The Rev. B. Davies, of Stepney (son of the Rev. D. Davies, of Haverford-west), having accepted the earnest and unanimous invitation of the Baptist church in this city to become their pastor, has commenced his labours with very encouraging prospects of usefulness. ASHTON-UNDER-LYNE. The Rev. W. K. Armstrong, B.A., late of Huddersfield, has accepted the cordial and unanimous invitation to the pastorate of the Baptist church assembling in Wellbeck Street, Ashton-under-Lyne, and entered on his labours on the first Lord's day in December. RICKMANSWORTH, HERTS. Mr. Robert Tubbs, of Thrissell Street Chapel, Bristol, has accepted a unanimous invitation to the pastorate of the Baptist church, Rickmans worth, and entered upon his stated labours the first Sabbath in January. GREAT TORRINGTON. At a social meeting, held January 2nd, 1854, in connection with the Baptist Chapel, Great Torrington, the Rev. David Thompson was presented with a Purse, containing twenty guineas, as a token of gratitude for ministerial and other services. Several brethren engaged in prayer, and addresses were delivered by the pastor, Messrs. C. Belman, J. Ward, C. Veysey, N. Chapple, and J. Beer. The meeting was impressive and interesting. BIRMINGHAM SCHOLASTIC INSTITUTION FOR SONS OF MINISTERS. The Second Report of this Institution has just come into our hands. We are glad to hear that the Committee have felt it right to increase the number of pupils to twentyfive, for whose education during the past year they have agreed that twenty-three guineas each shall be paid-part by the parents or friends of the children, and part out of the funds of the Society. The parents of the twenty-five scholars in the school belong to seven different religious denominations. The certificates of the Examiners at the Annual Examination were highly satisfactory, and the Examination papers, with a sight of which we have been favoured, were very thorough and searching. We have pleasure in commending the Institution again to the sympathy and support of our friends. Obituary. MR. WILLIAM BAILEY. Died, on the 18th of January, after a short illness, sincerely and deservedly lamented by his sorrowing widow and surviving family, Mr. William Bailey, of 33, King Street, Covent Garden, in the seventyfourth year of his age. He had been a. consistent and devout member of the Baptist church, in Eagle Street, London, forty-three years, and a faithful and honourable deacon of the same for thirty-two years; and was many years secretary of the Particular Baptist Fund. His end was peace. THE CHURCH. "Built upon the foundation of the Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner-stone."-Eph. ii. 20. MARCH, 1854. SHADOWS ON THE HEBREW MOUNTAINS. BY MRS. H. B. STOWE. "O my strength! Haste thee to help me."-Psalm xxii. 19. "God is the strength of my soul and my portion for ever."-Psalm 1xxiii. 26. Every human soul has some point on which it rests. As every arch has its key-stone, every lever its fulcrum; as every body has its centre of gravity, which must rest on something; so every soul must have a point, out of itself, of stability and repose. We cannot always tell what it is. A man does not always know what it is himself. Men do not often ask themselves questions enough to know what the strength of their souls is. Like the vital force in the body, we know when it is present and when it is gone, but not where it is. Here is a man full of activity and energy, joyous, vigorous, the life of his circle. Suddenly, as if struck by an evil eye, he seems to collapse and weaken, he loses energy, he does nothing, and is good for nothing. Nobody knows what has come over the man; but the strength of his soul is departed. What has been touched? what has gone from him? Oftentimes the world knows not; he perhaps tells no living creature; all we know is, that the man is blighted. Nor, when the strength of a man's soul has died out, does he always die. There are many men, and women too, who outlive the strength of their souls. One may see in the western forests girdled trees around, in which never more vital sap shall ascend from a living root, yet still, for a while, shooting forth blossoms and leaves, from the mere habit of a past vitality; and so men, when the strength of their heart is dead, often live on from the mere mechanical habit of living. Sometimes the strength of a man's soul lies where he does not look for it. He only discovers where it was by the blow which strikes it. Here is a man of reading, a man of varied intellectual resources, a man of wide accomplishments, versed in art and skilled in learning. He shews himself friendly, and has scores of friends; he has a fair wife, whom he loves passing well. A beautiful daughter prattles and totters about his fireside-so tiny a creature, so fair and fanciful, with her soft curls, her gay ignorance, her sweet absurdities-the little thing seems made only as the luxury and ornament of existence-its toy and plaything, not its essential want. The roots of this aerial wind-flower seem too thread-like and fine to strike into the deeper and lower granite of man's soul. The man VOL. VIII. D plays with her daily when he closes his book, or comes in from his business, but he thinks of her as a passing perfume, a dew-drop, a bird-song on a glad morning-a merry song to beguile a passing hour. Alas! there comes a day when the merry voice is silent, and of all that life and beauty there remains only a poor, sorrowful wreck, white, calm and deadly chill. He rises up from his dead, to go forth, as aforetime. He tries all that had charmed before-what is the matter? Has he not all that he had ? The strength of his soul has departed! Those thread-like fibres were wrapped about the deep granite of his soul; the foundations of his life have been riven in tearing them away. Another man's strength lies in the companionship of some human heart. The mortal pilgrim goes on for years, with a deep desire unsatisfied, a craving unanswered; but in some fortunate hour, another soul is found to satisfy the craving and answer the demand. An eye beams on him as a star; another hand clasps his; another heart gives back thought for thought, feeling for feeling-all that he had yearned for. Now the strength of his soul is in this other soul. But as an iceberg comes grinding between two ships sailing joyfully in company, so death rises up between these hearts, parting them for ever. The man awakes alone, and lo, the strength of his soul is departed! Nature is silent; for him the sun shines not, the birds sing not; the beauty and grandeur of nature exist only as light to the blind man and music to the deaf. The whole world of nature, art, poetry, music, painting, all are buried from him in that one grave. The strength of an inferior soul is in his riches. The man loses a wife, and he is sorry; his child dies, and he is sorry; he loses his friend, and he is sorry; but still he bears up bravely, and life still has attractions; but a stroke sweeps away his riches, his life's of labour accumulation, and the man is crushed; he holds up his head no more; the strength of his soul has departed! Ambition is the strength of another man's soul,-to gain some station of dazzling eminence, to be above other men. The roots of his being all run into this idea; the man develops from it; it nourishes him for years. Wife, child, literature, wealth, art, all these are well in their way; they are very good, nay, they are beautiful in his eyes, so beautiful, so good, that one might sometimes think that in them lay the vitality of his being. But these fade, these change, these die and pass from him, and though the man is troubled, it is but for a season. He is like a kingly pine; his smaller roots have been cut, but the deep root of all holds him upright. Now the axe is laid to that, and the sound of the fall is as the crashing of a mighty pine in the still forest. Sometimes a man seems to be chased by sorrow, from refuge to refuge, from outwork to outwork, bravely fighting all the way, scorning to yield himself vanquished. At last, he entrenches himself in the very inmost citadel, and here makes a desperate stand. If this is taken, the strength of his soul is vanquished. Plutarch says, that in the plague of Athens, Pericles lost his son, his sister, his wife, and almost all his friends who were capable of assisting him in the business of state, but preserved an immovable tranquillity. He neither wept, nor performed any funeral rites, nor was he seen at the grave of any of his relations, until the death of Paralus, his last legitimate son. He attempted, even then, to keep up his firmness of behaviour and serenity of mien; but in putting the garland around the head of the deceased, his firmness forsook him, and he burst into tears and low lamentations. How blessed, then, is he, the strength of whose soul is immortal, indestructible, perfect! How secure he, who feels that the deep roots of his affection have laid hold of what can never perish and never change! This man may have all manly longings and all womanly tendernesses; he may desire a generous fame, a successful activity; he may fold to his bosom a kindred heart; he may join in the life-flowers that spring and blossom round his hearthstone; but in none of these is his life hid. God is the strength of his heart! Beyond all earthly love and beauty, beyond aH fond desires, more than all that eye hath seen, or ear heard, or heart of man conceived, he loves and adores his God. Unless God can change, unless God can die, the strength of his soul cannot be broken. A poor, simple man once said, "I have lost my property; it is all gone. I have lost all my relations; my last son is dead. I have lost my hearing and my eyesight; I am all alone, old and poor; but it all makes no difference. Christ never grows old, Christ never is poor, Christ never dies, and Christ never will forsake me." In like spirit said another, "What shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors, through Him that loved us! The man whose strength is in God, is oftentimes a wonder to his associates. Once I looked across a landscape, in a season of great drought and all the elms looked sickly and yellow, as if verging to decay. But one elm was fresh and green, as if spring showers were hourly falling upon it. Coming nearer to observe, behold, a silent river flowed at the foot of the tree, and its roots stretched far out into its living waters. So is he, in the drought and death of this world, whose soul is rooted in God! "Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord; whose hope the Lord is; for he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, which spreadeth out his roots by the river; he shall not see when heat cometh; his leaf shall be green; he shall not be careful in the year of drought." GOD'S PITY FOR HIS CHILDREN. BY THE REV. JOHN FOSTER. "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust."-Psalm ciii. 13, 14. The frame of man is very wonderful—we are fearfully and wonderfully made (Paley). It has taken many ages to explain, and that but imperfectly, the nature of this frame, simply so far as it is considered as a machine. Pride But life none can explain; you do not know, the wisest not any more. The most wonderful circumstance is, that all this is but dust. of strength. Pride of beauty. Expectation of long life. We remember the account of the first creation of man. Material work. Dust still. We nearer dust. Amazing power that could make simple dust into such a thing as this. Infinitely unlikely,-flower become a star. That could make of dust a proper companion for an immortal spirit,-senses for all its knowledge,— instrument, habitation. God is able in everything to make something meaner into something greater. As earth into a living body,-soul into angel,-sinner into saint. Most gratifying that our Father can work astonishing miracles. We may by him rise from every mean to every great thing. *The Rev. John Foster's own Notes of a Sermon. Remarkable that thus the race of man began as low as possible. Lower than earth, God could not descend to find material (meanness of the elements). What dust may in his hands become! Yet nothing must go beyond its place,—“dust to dust." Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God,-that new body that will inherit, far different. How quickly the body becomes mere dust. It seems very far from it in this state; but dead, far sooner sinks into dust than some things made of dust. Was looking at an old oak yesterday. We feel no respect for the dust of former generations,-mere earth. A man values his hand or his finger more than all the race of Adam that are dead. Is it not strange that a man should value his own dust so infinitely more than all dust beside ? But is it not strange that the immortal spirit should be made a servant, a slave to this piece of clay (monarch at the command of the meanest man in the nation)? Is it not strange there should be so little feeling of dependence upon God, when every moment of this life, of this dust, is a kind of miracle? Men feel as if they could not die, as if life were their own. Is it not strange that only part of these children (dust) fear God? Is it not strange when beings made of dust, instead of seeking his pity, provoke his anger and judgments (insects, a fire,-volcano)? "Pitieth them that fear him." Fear must be the first principle of religion in this, that there can be no true religion without solemn contemplation of God. But the first view, and many of the succeeding views of God, must excite fear. How totally in his power! Come on us everywhere, at any hour, by thousands of means. No precautions,-whatever he will do, he can. How impure in his sight, and compared with his nature! What awful judgments he has executed on former men of dust for their sins! He could scatter terrors and death over the universe in a moment. Is it not most rational to think with awe of meeting him everywhere,— every day? Should not this be thought of, and if thought of, how? Is it not most rational that the fear of his displeasure should infinitely exceed every other fear? Is it not most rational to feel the deepest anxiety that when we see him at last, it may not be with terror? And will not a state of mind like this often feel pious distress; and the ills of mortality mingle with the pains of piety? Such persons feel they need the compassions of the Almighty power. They have it,-text. The most inspiring of all feelings, and the noblest alleviation of fear, is the contemplation of God in a kind of relationship. If we were to go through the Bible, and collect all the kind and friendly comparisons in which God has presented himself, it would be a wonderful assemblage of consolations. The comparison of himself to a father seems the oftenest,"Our Father,"-and is represented in all the possible kind views. He has taken the utmost care on this point, as if apprised that he must be an object of terror to weak mortals. Probably there are as many consolations held out to our weakness and sufferings, as terrors to our sins. It is well known how a father pitieth his children. All of us who are grown up from infancy to maturity are proofs how much pity and care must sometimes have been exercised by parents, partly by fathers. Even the wicked and malicious often have felt this affection,-"Ye being evil," &c. Observe, here, that God compares his goodness not to a good disposition in man that is man's choice, or which he has learned, but to that which is implanted in his very constitution, as being far more sure. God compares himself to a father; but if the parental compassion in |