hurt, though I bore a good character on board, and my Mary here would not have married a known bad man; but the Lord knew I cared nothing about him or my lost soul." Then he went on to tell the fearful state of his mind when he lay in pain and misery, the night before the operation was to be performed. He thought he would rather die than endure it; and it was not certain that after all it would be effectual for his recovery. But then came the feeling that he was not fit to die: where would he be if he did die? Oh," said he, "it was awful." He forgot for the time all the sufferings of the body, in an agony of terror at the thought of the eternity on which, all unprepared, he might immediately be called to enter. He knew enough of God's word to recollect that "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life:" he knew that the thief had cried to Jesus and was heard. There was no time to hesitate; he must cry too or be lost. So just as he was, poor, wretched, blind," he cast himself on the grace and pity of God in Christ, and after a night of earnest prayer and deep repentance, gave himself up to his medical attendants to be dealt with as God might see fit. If he lived he would henceforth live "not unto himself, but unto him who died for him;" and if he must die, it should be clinging in humble and yet struggling faith to the Saviour who said that none who come to him should be cast out.

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The operation was successful, and he left the hospital, crippled indeed in body, but a new-born child of God in heart, as the Spirit of adoption witnessed within, and a changed life and character testified without.

"And all I want now is to live for the Lord," said he, "to do as he bids, and be just where he likes."

"Do you not feel solitary up here sometimes?" I asked.

"Oh no, maʼam; we are only a mile from the village, and can go there when we please; but I can sit about here and read, and think, and pray. The Lord is here you know, ma'am, just as much as anywhere else; and mayhap by minding my light properly, I may be his way to save some of those little craft from getting wrecked on stormy nights. It isn't much work I can do here; but if I do my best, maybe I shall get more by-and-by." Then,

he added, "I sit and think sometimes of all the Lord has done for me, and all he has promised yet to do, and I'm so happy! Oh, I can't tell it in words; but mayhap you know what I mean, when one's heart feels full of love and thankfulness, and ready to burst with joy, and no words, only tears come to tell what it is; oh, ma'am, isn't it beautiful?" and the tears fast filled his eyes and mine too.

It is beautiful! Happy Christian, long may that light of heaven beam from the Rock of Ages, charming your life with this "joy and peace in believing," and acting upon the ignorance and danger of the world around you, like the lighthouse you tend, which flings its guiding ray across the dark waters below.

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Our new friend took the young party up to explain to them the machinery of the lantern; and when I expressed my fear that they might derange it, or dim the glasses, he hoped they would, it would be something more to do, and he'd rather they soiled it than not.” He joyfully accepted a proposal to send him some tracts and books, which he said he often felt the want of; and it would be so pleasant to take them to distribute among the sailors on the river, when he had read them himself, for he could get a boat sent to him whenever he wished it. Here too was the diffusiveness of genuine Christianity.

Pleasant as our ramble had been, and much as we had enjoyed the day, the pleasantest remembrance about it was the discovery of a brother and sister in Christ, a spiritual emblem as well as a natural safeguard on the river's bank, in "the Light on the Rock." Was not the "something which told of unexpected refinement of mind and manner, the subduing, purifying influence of the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, and sanctifying communion with the source of all perfection?

Here too was a rebuke to the infidel, more pointed than a volume of argumentative refutation, and to a Christian's responsive experience, "it was beautiful!"

PREACHERS AND HEARERS: WHO ARE IN FAULT?

In times of trial and disappointment, how natural is the inquiry, "Who is to blame?" and strange though it may

seem it is no small comfort to know for certain the cause of our distress. There is one disappointment, common to

all engaged in the care of souls. I may call it a "minister's disappointment;" it is the coldness and indifference of the many to the gospel of Jesus. While people are so advanced in knowledge, so eager in deep and learned questions, how is it that the question of happiness for ever is so little cared for, while riches and earthly name are the anxious aims of so many? How few are they who seek that one thing needful, the knowledge of God our Father, and Jesus whom he has sent.

When we read the solemn warnings uttered to preachers and to hearers; to the one, "Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season;" to the other, "Take heed how ye hear," it is good to inquire into the cause of the coldness and indifference of the many to the work of heaven. Is the preacher in fault? His conduct is public, open to all; there is fair cause for judgment in his case.

Now, to begin with the preacher. Is there lack of preaching, lack of earnestness? Commonly not. Never were pulpits better filled, congregations more attentive, ministers more in earnest than now; and look where we will among the people, we see in every rank of life, from the highest to the lowest, no few eagerly engaged in declaring in one form or other the message of Jesus. Whether it be for strife or vain glory, or for the cause of Jesus, the word is preached everywhere. This was Paul's rejoicing. Can we do otherwise? The seed of the word is sown abundantly, but where is the crop? do we see the return for the labour? Humanly speaking, London should be reformed, so vast have been the efforts in the cause of the gospel; and if preacher and hearer had been "equally in earnest," can we doubt the success of the word? As in the case of Nineveh of old, the people would have turned to the Lord. Alas! this is not so. The question is, who is in fault? Shall we blame the preacher? does he lack zeal and discretion? When we see the seeming anxiety and earnestness on their part we must be careful how we blame. Let us go back to old times, the days of eighteen hundred years ago. Then the multitude crowded around Him who spoke as never man spoke; they blessed his wondrous miracles, and praised his loving words; and yet what was the seeming fruit of all this work? When Pilate asked, What shall I do with Jesus? the answer was, that one great cry, Let him be crucified; and when again Pilate asks, Why, what evil hath he done? the cry still rises.

Crucify him. Is the real heart of man so changed that in our days we may look for better things? Surely, if here and there we see the awakening of a soul, we ought to bless the Lord and be thankful; and surely we shall act hastily and without good reason, if, with all the increased energy and spirit of the preacher, we blame him because that of so many hearers, so many called, so few are chosen.

Let us now look to the other question, Is the hearer to blame? is the fault his? Ah! this is a private inquiry: it is a home question. "Take heed how ye hear," is the Lord's warning: how do we hear? are we to blame? Well, begin at the very beginning; observe people's behaviour in a place of worship. They enter; the business and talk of the world without comes to an end; they take their places, and then kneeling or standing they seem to hide their faces from the sight of men. But how many indications often follow of anything but devotion in a large number of those who have thus ostensibly entered upon the public worship of God! If the inquiry were made as to them, could it be truly answered that they were praying to the great God, and in the spirit of humility hid their faces from him? Would you feel sure enough of real prayer to give this answer? And yet if the attitude was a real mark of true prayer, there can be no doubt of a profitable hearing. We are told that God will give his Holy Spirit to those who ask him; and depend on it, no sermon which speaks of Jesus' love and mercy to sinners, however slow it may be to many ears, is unblessed by the Lord to the faithful hearer. But if this position of prayer on entering public worship is only a sham-a pretence, can we imagine it likely that the words of the preacher can affect the soul of one so acting? Fancy our anger if we were to detect our children or servants thus shamming to us. I do not know any more fearful thought than pretended-sham prayer.

Still, in spite of hypocrisy and careless behaviour in God's house, there is some peculiar advantage in the hearing the preached word. Where else can a careless person hear of the welfare of his soul? Do men of business and pleasure speak of the world to come? does the loss or gain of the soul ever enter into the calculations of loss or gain of the things of this life? No; and as to friends and relations, how rarely do careless people hear from their lips in private the word of God! and as to home matters,

a grace or so at meals, and perhaps a hurried "word of prayer" in the family, are all. Thus week by week passes by: no word of God save on one day, in one place, strikes on the careless ear; and thus the soul moves on to the grave, its welfare forgotten, its very self uncared for.

But it may be argued, there may be reading at home; will not this take the place of public hearing? Certainly not in the case of the careless soul. For what will be his reading? Suppose the book to be the word of God, what parts will he choose? Will he choose out those severe and warning words of the Lord God, Keep my sabbaths, hallow my sabbaths; or those touching rebukes of the Saviour, or the telling lessons of his apostles? These cannot be favourite portions in his case; he will read the interesting histories of the Bible-perhaps the Psalms. He will naturally avoid unpleasant remembrances of himself. "Thou art the man," is not a pleasant thought to a selfsatisfied soul. Those words, "The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God," are very searching. No private reading can take the place of public worship in the case of careless people. The house of God and the preached word are as home and home advice. The home may not be cared for, the advice may not be regarded; but it is better than the wide world and no comforter, no adviser. Hearing" is "God's opportunity," and he can use it as he pleases; he can call to mind forgotten things. It is something to hear God's voice; it is something to be "in the way" of his blessings. It is a loss indeed to be deprived of this privilege; and if a loss to the hearer, so is it to the preacher. The hearer may have his preacher; but who is the preacher's preacher? Whence is he to be reminded of his duties as a fellow-sinner, and his own need of that very spirit for which he teaches his congregation to pray? True it is that few things in this life are more really humbling to the Christian minister than the little power he has of himself to help the souls of others; but at the same time no snare is more dangerous to the preacher than pride; and when Paul himself was taking good heed lest preaching to others he himself should be a cast-away, surely we need a like care. How needful then is it for us all to bear in mind the blessed privilege of the "foolishness of preaching," and to remember that to the careful hearer alone can the benefit be real.