open to our missionaries, were double-barred against us; that no voice reached us from other lands to tell of the triumphs of Messiah's cause. Let us close our eyes and ears to every encouraging fact, and suppose all this, and more-and what then? Will this excuse us for our neglect of imperative obligation? Will it free us from the debt of duty which we owe to the perishing heathen, which we owe to God? We are required to love our neighbour as ourselves. This command has its source in our common nature, our common origin. But what manner of love is that which sees a brother perishing for lack of knowledge, and yet stretches out no hand to save him-makes no effort, no sacrifice to deliver him? Unto whomsoever this gospel is sent, upon him does the obligation rest to make it known to those who have it not. The message must pass from man to man, until all the world have gathered beneath the standard of the cross. (Rev. xxii.

er

Ant of all the discoured

was the only one whose courage and confiHe never doubted of dence never failed. the conversion of Burmah, whether or not he should be permitted to gather the first fruits; and his answer to desponding letters from America roused the home churches as with the voice of a trumpet. "Permit us to labour on in obscurity, and at the end of twenty years you may hear from us again." It was in this spirit, also, he replied to the question of the venerable Mr. Loring, "Do you think the prospects bright for the speedy conversion of the heathen?" "As bright," was his prompt reply, full of deep meaning, as well as of fine sentiment, "as bright as the promises of God!"

Who that reads these pages can be assured of a more favourable and promising opportunity than the present for helping forward this glorious cause? Which of us can look for any other time than the present now, for doing his part towards sending the gospel to may not be

your own.
Death is ever near us, and in an
hour that we know not of, we may be sum-
moned to our great account; and what ex-
cuse will it be at the bar of judgment, when
our Master shall charge us with neglecting
to labour in his vineyard, to say, "I deemed
that the time was not yet come for the con-
version of the world, and therefore I did
nothing." How will the soul be filled with
horror, when, pointing to His children from
the east and west, he replies, "Verily, verily,
I say unto you, inasmuch as ye did it not
unto the least of these, ye did it not unto
me. Depart from me, I know ye not."
For your soul's sake, then, beloved reader,
let me beseech you deceive not yourself
with the idea, that the time for you to con-
tribute to the advancement of the Redeemer's
kingdom has not yet come.

Time was I shrank from what was right,

From fear of what was wrong;

I would not brave the sacred fight,

Because the foe was strong.

But now I cast that finer sense

And sorer shame aside;

Away then with fear, and unbelieving, covetous timidity, and faint-heartedness. The work is the Lord's, and the strength is his also. And though the mountains reach unto the heavens, and Jacob be but as a feeble worm, yet shall he thresh the mountains, and beat them small, and make the hills as chaff. In no part of his labours did Dr. Judson gather more abundant cause of joy than in his visits to the Karens, those wild, untutored children of the wilderness. Ascending almost impassable mountains, wading knee-deep for miles up the beds of mountain streams, drawing little companies around him in some way-side zayat, or preaching to wondering multitudes from his boat on some river-side, he felt as if the time "Yes!" to favour this people were come. he exclaims, writing on one occasion from the midst of the Karen jungles, "the great Invisible is in the midst of these Karen wilds. That mighty Being, who heaped up cracy rocks, and reared these stu