Christianity. The evils have been either extirpated or greatly abated. Even where these vices hold their ground, they have become disgraceful. No one attempts to justify them. They shun publicity, and hide themselves from the light of day. It must be admitted too, that this advance is due solely to the influence of christianity. In these respects, the heathen world, so far from improving, had steadily grown worse. Many of these vices were not only committed by, but found their apologists, and even advocates, among, the philosophers and moralists. Christianity stood alone in assailing and denouncing them.

Not only in the repression of vice, but in the production of the virtues and charities of life, are the practical results of christianity to be traced. In the heathen world philanthropy-the love of man as manwas unknown. Virtue never took a wider flight than personal friendship or patriotism. An enterprise undertaken for the benefit of foreign nations was entirely unknown prior to the time of Christianity. The spirit which prompted the apostolic missions was utterly alien to the thoughts and feelings even of the best of the heathen. Greece in her highest civilization, Rome in her utmost magnificence and wealth, did not contain a single alms-house or hospital; nor in all their literature can any trace be found of the spirit which now embodies itself in charitable institutions. In spite, then, of all the corruptions and perversions of the religion of the gospel, and notwithstanding the narrow limits within which it has been permitted to act, its results have still been incalculably, and are still progressively, valuable.

Take a map of the world, and single out those countries in which virtue most abounds, the amplest liberty is enjoyed, and where mental and moral excellence have attained their greatest height. How shall we explain the fact, that all these countries

Or,

are just those in which the religion of the gospel is professed? That there is some connection between national greatness and the possession of the gospel, would seem evident from the facts of the case; and it matters little to our argument, whether it be ascribed to natural causes, or to the result of a providential interposition. follow the christian missionary among the licentious Hindoos, the squalid Hottentots, the fierce New Zealanders, and account for the purity, the amiability, the civilization, which this religion produces among its converts from these various peoples. The infidel may sophistically evade the reasonings of a Butler, a Clarke, a Lardner; but, when he has done so, the irrefragable arguments of Williams's "Missionary Enterprises," and Moffat's "Labours in South Africa," remain.

In estimating the value of these practical results of the gospel, we must not forget that they are merely incidental to its great design. Its aim is to bring man into new relationships toward God and eternity. Its object is not civilization, social development, or political liberty, but these blessings follow in its train,-these flowers it scatters in our path, as it leads us on to glory, honour, and immortality. We point to these incidental results only as illustrations and proofs of its benign character. If, incidentally and indirectly, it has effected so much for mankind, have we not in this fact a guarantee that it can and will confer upon us those greater benefits which constitute its great business and aim?

We close this paper with a sentence from Baxter's Reasons for the Christian Religion "If a deceiver might be the great renewer and sanctifier of the world, what possibility could there be of the discovery of that deceit? Or, rather, should we not say he was a blessed deceiver that had deceived us from sin and misery, and brought back our straying souls to God."

JOSEPH LING.

A NARRATIVE FOR SERVANTS.

Joseph Ling was born at Thaxted, in Essex, on the 16th of November, 1766. Whatever his early training was, and it is probable that it was religious, it does not

appear that he profited much by it, as, to use his own words, he was "a most awful wicked sinner." This language, however, must be interpreted with a due regard to the estimate which he had learned, through grace, to form of wickedness and sin. Selfdepreciating expressions must always be

read in the light of the rule by which the judgment of him who utters them is guided. Where they are the strongest, they may indicate, not peculiar sinfulness, but peculiar sensibility. Nevertheless, it is probable, from his own account, that our departed friend was permitted to fall into many of the vices which, it is to be feared, pollute the path of multitudes of young men placed in his circumstances, and exposed to his temptations.

His first engagement, as a servant, was at Shelford, in Cambridgeshire, where he continued three years. From this situation he was dismissed in disgrace. He then went to Cambridge, and remained for four years, his master being the Rev. Thomas Parkinson, of Christ's College, "a good sort.of man." His description of himself, and his associations, at this period, was very melancholy. "There could not be a greater swearer. He was in the midst of all manner of evil. He did not know a godly man at College, and he should have known him, if there had been one, for he would have been a marked man." Again was he turned away in disgrace. Destitute of a character, he came to London, in search of a place, but found that his not having had the small-pox was an insuperable obstacle to his obtaining one. In this difficulty he returned to his former master at Cambridge, who, notwithstanding his previous misconduct, kindly helped him to get inoculated. He then revisited the metropolis, and was received into the family of the Rev. John Fell, Tutor of Homerton Academy, who had been the pastor of the church at Thaxted, and to whom Mr. Ling had been recommended by his mother, a member of that church. With Mr. Fell he continued a year and a half, and then entered (March 2, 1789) the service of Thomas Wilson, Esq., of Highbury-place, the father of the late generous Treasurer of Highbury College. In his family, and in that of his widow, he remained, with the exception of a short interval, during the long period of twenty-six years, till the death of Mrs. Wilson.

It was while residing in Highbury-place that Mr. Ling experienced the great change, the greatest change that can pass upon the spirit of man. This change took place in the year 1799. Many causes, there can be but little doubt, combined to bring it about. The eminent example of spiritual religion he was privileged to behold could not well

be without some effect. It is also reasonable to suppose, that the instructions and impressions of childhood and youth contributed to the momentous transformation. But two things seem to have especially moved his heart. He was "somewhat touched" by the couduct and remarks of a young man who lived, as footman, in the same family with him. This young man suffered from an attack of brain fever, and Mr. Ling used to attend upon him. His "ruling passion" appeared, notwithstanding his temporary derangement, and that ruling passion was religion. He was a pious youth, and, while raving, would sing from morning to night, "Salvation to God and the Lamb!" He was wont to address religious remarks to Mr. Ling, saying, "You are as black as an Indiaman." The gospel was not preached in the Established Church in Islington, and Mr. Ling therefore used to attend one service, almost every Sunday, at Newington church, where Mr. Shepherd, afterwards Rector of Clerkenwell parish, preached. The Word of God came from his lips with power and pathos. One Saturday night, having sat up several preceding nights with the afflicted youth, and being very much fatigued, the thought occurred to Mr. Ling that he would try to pray. He read a portion of Scripture, and knelt down, but could not pray, not even a single word, and retired to rest without fulfilling his purpose. The next night he made a second attempt. After reading in the Epistles, he knelt down, and for a few minutes could say nothing, when such a spirit of prayer was poured out upon him that, though before he could not begin, now he could scarcely cease, supplicating. He believed that he prayed for two hours and a half; he was sure it was not less than two hours. The next day one of his young masters observed to him, "I understand that you are mad too;" to whom he answered, "Why, it is the first time I ever found my senses." The effect of the excitement through which he passed was such, that he had to go into the country for some weeks, which he spent in intercourse with his pious mother. On his return to town he passed through a season of intense misery. No one could tell what he felt. He was afraid to pray, and yet unable to refrain from prayer, sometimes praying till one o'clock in the morning. He was frequently overheard praying aloud in the loft above the

Although the commencement of Mr. Ling's spiritual change was sudden, he obtained peace and joy by slow degrees. But he did obtain them, and obtained them by "receiving the atonement." To express the exclusiveness of his trust in Christ, he was accustomed often to say to his friends, "I have not the shadow of a hope from any other source than the Lord Jesus Christ. I am shut up, completely shut up, to the faith."

After his conversion to God, our deceased friend was earnestly anxious to do good. What good he did through many years, few of you are altogether ignorant of. That he was the means of originating Benevolent Societies in this parish, and that his labours laid the foundation of the Church and the School meeting in this place, most of you know. But the circumstances connected with his early efforts, and "the spirit and power" with which he made them, will be new to many, and deserve a record. In the year 1801, the first Benevolent Society was formed in Churchstrect. It arose out of the purpose of three persons, Mr. Ling and two gardeners, who thought of raising two shillings a week and visiting a few sick people. In the same year, Mr. Ling commenced a Sundayschool in Holloway, at the corner of Hornsey-road (Mr. Pelling's), giving a shilling a week for a room, borrowing forms of a schoolmaster, and obtaining some Testaments and School-books from friends. To this work he devoted himself with unremitting, self-denying diligence. For years he never went in to have dinner, but used to put up the horses, on returning from morning worship, as quickly as possible, and hurry down to Holloway to be in time for school, which began at two o'clock. About a year after, he commenced a prayer-meeting, in the conduct of which he displayed the same zeal. The evening of the service being that on which there was preaching at the Grove (by the Rev., Thos. Lewis, now of Union chapel), he was accustomed to drive Mrs. Wilson to the chapel there, take the horses home, go

to the meeting at Holloway, and hasten back to fetch his mistress. After the chapel, which was first occupied by Independent dissenters in Holloway, had been purchased by the late Thos. Wilson, Esq., the school and the prayer-meeting were transferred to it, and of both Mr. Ling was for some time the life and strength. Sometimes he had to leave the coach and horses in the chapel-yard, while he and his mistress went into the prayer-meeting, he being the only male to conduct the service. The good work thus begun has been continued ever since, and, passing through various states and stages, is now what you behold it. My object, however, is not to give a history of the church, but the history of our devoted friend.

He was always at his post of service. Released, very many years ago, from the necessity of earning his daily bread, and placed in circumstances of competency and comfort, by a provision as honourable to her who made it as to him for whom it was made, he did not give himself to inglorious ease, but consecrated his leisure to the gospel of his Saviour. To receive and to dispense spiritual blessings was his constant and supreme desire. His place was never vacant, but from necessity, at the Lord's-day or week-day services of the church. His absence (unlike that of many) always excited attention, and drew forth remark. But his religion was not selfish. He was "ready to every good word and work." He needed not to be stimulated and urged. His "meat" was "to do the will of God." The workhouse, the cottages of the poor, the rooms of religious service, the Sunday-school, witnessed the habitual fervour of his zeal. The call of distress and sickness he never refused. And oftentimes did those of a rank above his own gladly avail themselves of his counsels and his prayers. His well-known figure, bending with the weight of years, might be seen wending its way on errands of mercy, which many would have found his infirmities a sufficient reason to decline. His grave and kindly voice, when passed fourscore, might be heard addressing the words of life to children neglected by youthful and vigorous professors of the f same gospel that kept the fire of his holy love burning beneath the snows of age. ↑ The prospect of having, through the decay, of his powers, to retire from his accus-A tomed labours, grieved his soul as a great calamity.

Blessed with a constitution of unusual strength, Mr. Ling knew but little interruption to his loved employments. Few and brief were the seasons in which he was deprived of the luxury of doing good. He was permitted to attend public worship, and to take part in social prayer, till within about a month of his decease, which took place on the evening of Monday, January 21st, 1850. His death resulted from natural decay, and not the operation of any particular disease. Most literally he fell asleep in Jesus.

He

Trust and peace reigned in his heart, and filled, as an atmosphere, the chamber of his death. He was full of love to God and man. The spirit that had led him, in former years, to exercise severe, and sometimes, it is believed, even hurtful self-denial-a spirit of pure benevolencedid not forsake him while his heart and his flesh were failing. Most sensitive was he, lest, by unintentional word or act, he should have grieved any of his friends and brethren. As to his own state and prospects he was free from all anxiety. had no wish to live, no fear to die. Heaven was his "Father's house." The last time he spoke to me, when he could with great difficulty speak at all, his only words were, "I have a good home to go to;" and, in answer to the question, "Have you any doubt ?" "No, no." Nor have we any doubt concerning him. He has died in the Lord: he rests from his labours, and his works have followed him. In a mellow maturity of years and grace he has entered the garner of the Lord. "He has come to his grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season." And while his spirit is rejoicing in the presence of his Saviour, he has left behind him an unsullied name and a fragrant memory. Seldom, indeed, have the annals of the church presented the example of a man of humble powers, and in humble life, winning to himself, by a course of quiet, unobtrusive holiness and zeal, so wide, impartial, and just an esteem. Persons of various ranks and churches, the rich and the poor, the old and the young, will long call him blessed.*

A REMARKABLE DREAM.

A minister of the gospel once had amongst his enquirers a respectable female in mid

dle life, of whose piety he was happy to entertain no doubt. She expressed to him her wish to follow the Saviour in the ordinance of baptism, and to unite in fellowship with his people. With such a request, dictated as it was by true piety, by a spirit of love and obedience to Christ, he felt bound to comply, and promised to propose her for membership at the next church meeting. "What would you advise me to do," she asked, "in reference to my husband? He is indifferent, yea, averse to religion; but especially to baptism, and I doubt not will oppose me in the step I am about to take. I have had much trouble on account of my religion already; shall I tell him what I intend to do ?" "You had better," was the reply; "take him some day when he appears to be in a happy mood and a good temper, and kindly and respectfully let him know your intention; at the same time he is not the lord of your conscience, and should he disapprove, you are not bound by any law either of God or man to abide by his decision. Make it also a matter of constant and earnest prayer, and God may touch his heart, and appear for you in a manner of which you are now ignorant."

Being a woman of "meek and quiet spirit," she shrunk from the painful task of addressing him on the subject; but while she was resolving and re-resolving, hesitating and praying, day after day, and week after week, there was One above speaking to him in a manner far more effectual than she could have done. It may be remarked that he occasionally attended the house of God, and one Sabbath evening he came and heard a discourse on the conversion of Saul the persecutor, from the words, "Behold, he prayeth;" but this merely arrested his attention, and does not appear to have aroused his slumbering conscience. In the course of the week following, on his return home one evening, his anxious and watchful wife observed a difference in his countenance and behaviour. He appeared to be much depressed, and to be endeavouring to suppress emotions which were struggling for utterance. She kindly enquired the cause of his apparent disquietude. He replied, "It is only a dream which I had last night, that has made me very unhappy all day; it is very foolish of me to allow it."

"About "What was your dream about?" you." "And pray what did you dream about me?" "I dreamt that you were about to be baptized; I saw you in the chapel, dressed in white for the occasion, along with another female, and you took hold of me and wished me to be baptized with you." "This is strange!" she exclaimed, "for I am going to be baptized, and was only waiting for an opportunity to inform you of it." The husband, equally surprised and overwhelmed at the singular coincidence of his dream with actual circumstances, rejoined, "Well, you can act as you please, I shall not oppose you; for if I did I should be like Saul of Tarsus, of whom I heard last Sabbath evening."

Next Lord's-day morning found both parties seated in their pew at their accustomed sanctuary, the wife with a heart relieved from its burden and lighter than for many a day, and the husband with a mind thoughtful and prepared to receive the seed of Divine truth. The subject of discourse was founded on the words of the Prophet to the Shunamite, "Is it well with thee?" and so powerfully did he feel under it, that all was wrong between God and his soul, that he had the greatest difficulty in restraining his feelings and remaining in his place during the whole of the service. He returned home, retired to his chamber, and there, for the first time during the whole of his life, it might have been said by angelic observers, "Behold, he prayeth !" Day after day, during the following week, all the time he could command was spent in private, in reading the bible and in prayer. On the subsequent Lord's-day morning the language of the text was, "Is it well with thy husband? Is it well with the child ?" Among other signs of its being well with a family in a spiritual sense, it was observed that proper attention to family prayer was absolutely necessary. This served to deepen his impressions, and shortly after he called together his family, and told them that hitherto he had been neglecting their eternal interests as well as his own, but that henceforth he was determined, by the help of Divine grace, to live to God; and he there and then erected in his house an altar for the Saviour, and commenced with them domestic worship. Succeeding means of grace brought increasing light and comfort to his soul, and he found "joy and peace in believing."

While these things were occurring, the

partner of his life was being proposed as a candidate for church fellowship, was approved and accepted. Circumstances occurred which deferred the time of her baptism, and when it arrived she expressed a wish to have it still further postponed, in order that her husband might be baptized with her. Arrangements to that end were accordingly made, and soon after both entered the waters of baptism professing their faith in the Saviour. Since then their walk has been consistent and becoming the christian profession, and their home the abode of that peace, order, and happiness, which true religion alone can impart.

To the reader of this incident we would say, be careful not to limit, by any cold philosophical theory or cramped theological notions, the "Holy One of Israel," as to the mode of his operation in conversion. The writer is not one who looks for dreams, visions, voices, or extraordinary appearances in the accomplishment of this event, on the contrary, he has been accustomed to regard every thing of the kind with the utmost scepticism; but here he states merely an ungarnished fact which came under his own observation, and which induces the belief, that while God speaks to the soul ordinarily by his word, his Spirit, and by personal or relative afflictions, he may also do it "in a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumberings upon the bed; then he openeth the ears of men, and sealeth their instruction." (Job xxxiii. 15, 16.)

And further, should it be that you have relatives unconverted and opposed to religion, let the fact here related encourage you to persevere in prayer for them. While you avoid all manifestations of unholy temper, and all inconsistencies of conduct which might prove a stumbling-block in their way, endeavour to reach them through a throne of grace, for by so doing "what knowest thou, O wife, whether thou shalt save thy husband? or how knowest thou, O man, whether thou shalt save thy wife?" (1 Cor. vii. 16.)

PREPARE TO MEET THY GOD! A REMINISCENCE OF A LAY AGENT. On one occasion while addressing my people from the words, "Prepare to meet thy God, O Israel," and while expatiating on the dealings of God with his people, as shown in his anxiety for their welfare, I