one skulking for fear of detection, the other openly and honorably, because in the spirit of the gospel of Christ, pursuing his providential calling.

London! what emotions that word conjures up in the mind of a young man educated in the country, as he approaches the modern Babylon. The vast ranges of suburban residences,-the long line of crowded streets-the equipages thickening as he nears the city-the arrival of the coach at some ancient and dingy hotel in the very centre and heart of the mighty town—the lustre of the shops, the unique cathedral of St. Paul, with its bright gilded cross, overlooking alike the regions of commerce or of luxury-of wealth and refinement, of pauperism and vulgarity. How multitudinous are the thoughts which fill a contemplative mind on reaching London.

Well! William was now comfortably housed in Cheapside, and the same evening began to arrange, with all the taste he could muster, the goods entrusted to his care. The business of the firm so rapidly increased, that the London house became their principal source of emolument, and it was soon seen that Mr. Jones was essential to their prosperity. They were generous men, and having received him into partnership, the firm assumed the title of "Wilson, Jones, and Company." He was now in a condition of affluence, honoured and respected.

He had never forgotten the young lady whose looks thanked him so tenderly when he stopped the carriage. He visited the scene of his youthful days; obtained her hand; and one morning, in a quiet walk of sacred thoughts and tender words, passed along the flowery banks of the mill-stream. It was just as of old time, only grown rather smaller; the cottage bee-hives hard by, murmured in delicious concert with the laboring wheel of the mill, as the splashing waters played over it into the dark depth below. In the distance appeared the tall grey tower of the high church, with its enormous clock and graceful pinnacles, undisturbed by the clamours of licentious or misguided persons, who would have mutilated the ancient honors of the house where their fathers worshipped, rather than pay a few pence for repairs. He thought of the Sunday when the men were drowned;-the funeral sermon preached by the parson;-the occurrences of that memorable night when he stopped the horses;-the little children that

thanked their mother's deliverer; and now by his side was the young lady who looked her gratitude. It was an hour of solemn musing, as well as quiet joy; an hour of thanksgiving rather than mirth. He told the tale to the ear of one, who stood no unwilling listener, and a tear glistened in her eye, as he recalled his grandfather's death, his mother's advice, and even the old Dutch tiles, which told so significantly the command,-"REMEMBER THE SABBATH-DAY TO KEEP IT HOLY."

A BLESSING POURED OUT.

THE following exhilarating and delightful account of the success of missionary exertions in the island of Tutuila, one of the Navigators' group, occur in the last annual report of the London Missionary Society. One of the agents at Pagnopagno, writes

"Our most sanguine hopes have been more than realised; and often have we felt astonished and reproved, while with grateful hearts we have contrasted the abundance of the blessings bestowed, with the scantiness of our expectations. The gracious promise in Mal. iii. 10, has had an extraordinary fulfilment in this distant island of the sea. The windows of heaven have been opened, and a blessing, so large, has been poured out, that there has not been room enough to receive it. Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name, give glory.'

I

"This great work appears more and more manifestly to be a genuine work of God. Begun, as it was, in our own family, we had the best opportunities of satisfying ourselves as to its real character; and it is with feelings no language can express, declare my conviction, that many, who have been the subjects of this awakening, are now real christians. That this will be the result in every instance where deep feeling has been evinced, is more than I expect, though I earnestly desire and pray that it may be so."

Another missionary at Leone, gives this interesting detail:"Through the mercy of God I have to record the commence! ment of my public preaching among the people. On the 25th of October I preached my first sermon; and such a day-one so deeply interesting and affecting, I had never expected. The sermon was from the words, So thou, O Son of man, I have set

thee a watchman to the house of Israel.' We first sang a hymn, the subject of which was the blessedness of a people in having the gospel sent to them. After prayer and another hymn, I stood up, while there sat before me, anxiously waiting for the word of life, at least 1,000 persons. It was to me a most deeply affecting sight, when I thought of the solemn position I was just then about to assume among them, as the 'watchman' of their precious souls. The profoundest solemnity pervaded the dense assembly when I read the text, and proceeded to make a few introductory remarks on the occasion of my first standing up among them to preach the everlasting gospel. I next called on them to unite with me in thanksgiving and in solemn prayer to God, that he would graciously bless the beginning of my labors for the salvation of their souls. Considerable feeling had already begun to manifest itself; deep sobs broke forth in various directions; and I only uttered a few words more, when my voice was entirely drowned by the simultaneous weeping of the whole congregation. Not being able to proceed, I looked abroad upon the mass of people, and it was certainly the most affecting sight I ever witnessed; every head was bent down, and every eye was filled with tears; the feelings of some were so strong, that it was necessary to take them out of the chapel; about twenty minutes passed away before I could proceed.

"In the afternoon we held an examination, when it appeared that those who had been at the morning service remembered every important feature of the sermon. The deacons afterwards informed me, that chiefs who had looked savage before, had that day been broken down. Such an encouraging commencement of my labours I never anticipated. To the Lord be all the praise!"

"CONSENT THOU NOT."

THE following interesting anecdote relating to a native of Cape Coast, Africa, by name J. W. Christian, is communicated to the Baptist Missionary Society, by Dr. Prince :

"He lately exemplified a firmness and chariness of conduct which I question not was of heavenly inspiration, and the lack of which so often disfigures the form of christianity assumed by more experienced professors. He was invited to a feast, where

it was probable sinful practices might be adopted-it was on the occasion of a wedding of one of his intimate associates,—a person of chief importance in their rank. Christian, dressed in his best apparel, went at the appointed hour; but his heart smote him as he reached the scene of festivity, and suggested, 'If I go, I may say something sinful, or do something to grieve the Lord Jesus; I'll therefore return home.' He did so, and in spite of his wife's remonstrance, put off his visiting attire; and though solicited by repeated messages from the bridegroom, stood for a long time firm to his resolve. For a moment there was a little vacillation, caused by his wife's urging that he would offend his friend; but then again conscience prevailed; and, by way of removing himself still further from the temptation, he undressed and went to bed. There was an interval, however, before this last means of defence was adopted, which he employed in reading the word of God, and in kneeling to thank him for having given him the power to refrain. I questioned him narrowly at the time he incidentally related this anecdote, during a conversation upon the dangers from ungodly society, to discover the nature of his motive, and whether it had been engendered by a selfrighteous spirit, but after a close scrutiny I was satisfied that it had been free from that taint. I said to him, 'Christian, after all that you've told me had passed, did you feel pleased with yourself, and think that God was better pleased with you?' 'No, sir,' he replied, 'I only thank God that he put it in my heart not to do sin against him.""

THE VOICE OF DEATH.

(Extract from a Sermon on the death of Mr. Henry Stephens, of Penryn, preached Sunday evening, June 9, 1842, by Rev. Dr. Cope.)

IN calling your attention to the affecting circumstance of the death of Mr. Henry Stephens, it is not my desire to pronounce any eulogium upon the dead, but principally to interest the living in the great concern of their salvation, and this, I earnestly pray, may be so fully accomplished, that each one may be impressed with the striking words of this text of scripture, “I know that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all the living."

It is upwards of three years since the deceased returned from the metropolis, in a state of health which indicated that his existence on earth would not be of a protracted nature. He appeared even then, to have all the precursors of a consumption. I took an early opportunity of visiting him; but his mind appeared in no way seriously disposed towards religion. To the various suggestions that were offered, he appeared indifferent, and signified that he understood the way of salvation, and whenever he felt his mind affected, he would intimate it; but that he would not profess that which he did not feel. So far he was candid, how much soever it was to be lamented that the subject of his soul's eternal happiness occupied no more of his attention. The idea that he should ultimately recover, seems to have confirmed this state of indifference, in which he continued till a few months since, when he appears to have entertained some ideas of the necessity of religion. Some letters from his brother at Liverpool, received about this time, tended much to awaken him to some sense of his danger. In a letter to a friend, dated March 5, last, he thus writes:

"

My dear friend,-Feeling much better than I have been for some time, I reply to your pleasing letter. You have great cause to be thankful that you have laid hold of the refuge set before you in the gospel; that when aught of this world troubles you, you have the satisfaction of knowing where to fly for comfort and consolation.

"

'It would be a source of great joy to me, to be able to write with the same confidence and hope of salvation as you do. I have often serious thoughts on the subject. I have been long satisfied that there is no true happiness without religion, on this side the grave.

"I have a hope in my mind, that I shall, sooner or later, be a religious character. My bent is that way. I trust the Lord will soon accomplish this work.

"Your's, &c. H. S."

From this time it was evident that his views were materially altered, his mind subdued, and a concern for spiritual blessings manifested. Nothing could be more gradual than the conviction of his guilt as a sinner. A desire to live, continued for some time to predominate, and in a great degree, impeded his course