home, and consecrated with its tenderest remembrances. Our fathers, where are they? our friends, where are they? Is time writing its wrinkles upon every brow, and death stretching its hand over everything we love? and change its sharp ing onward ever. Look at the care in each man's face-the busy troubled eye, and anxious glance see how hurried are our fellow-men, as though they were engaged in a contest with time, and it was outstripping them like a racer on the course. See how changing is every-scythe to the roots of all the thing. Few years may have elapsed since we last looked on that scene, but at every step we see something new. Old landmarks swept away; the familiar places of our earliest days have given room to novelties. We look upon the homes where those we loved once lived, but they are gone. Strange faces that stare cold ignorance into our eyes give no welcome now by the hearth that was our childhood's us early blossoms of her hope? So it is; there is nothing permanent; we feel that the very earth beneath us is moving, changing, restless, and trembling under our feet to engulf us, as soon it will; we look above us, and the fleeting clouds are sailing over us, now dark, now light, but passing ever; and we exclaim, "Will nothing rest? will nothing stay ? " INTERESTING EXTRACTS. day. When trouble shall come, He will not leave thee; He will show thee the truth of that which He sent to thee in the day. His help would not be known to thee unless trouble came, from which thou should "The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime, and in the night His song shall be with me." Psalm xlii. 8. (In the night will declare it.) There is not leisure to hear in the time of trouble; listen while it is well with you; hearest be delivered by Him who when it is well with you; learn, when all is tranquil, the instruction of wisdom, and lay up the word of God as food. When any one is in trouble, that should be his help which he has heard when in security. For in prosperous things God commands His lovingkindness, if thou servest Him faithfully; for He delivers thee from trouble. But it is in the night that He declares to thee that mercy which He sent to thee in the made His promise to thee in the day. Therefore let us imitate the ant. For as prosperity is signified by the day, and adversity by the night, so also is prosperity signified by summer, and adversity by winter. And what doth the ant? It lays up in summer what it may use in winter. Thus, when it is summer-when it is well with you, when you are tranquil-hear the word of God. For how should it be that, in the tempests of this life, you should cross the whole sea without tribulation? How could it be? To whom among men has it happened? If it has so happened to any one, that very calm was more to be feared. (v. 8.)—"And my prayer unto the God of my life." (With me is prayer to the God of my life.)-This, then, I do, a hart thirsting and panting after the water brooks, remembering the sweetness of that voice by which I have been led through the tabernacle even to the house of God: so long as this corruptible body presseth down the soul, "with me is prayer to the God of my life." For, that I may make supplication to God, I am not about to buy aught from places across the sea; nor, in order that my God should hear me, shall I set sail to bring frankincense and spices from afar, or the calf or the ram from my flock. "With me is prayer to the God of my life." I have a victim within that I may sacrifice; I have incense within that I may offer: the sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit. Hear the utterance of this sacrifice of a troubled spirit. (v. 9.) "I will say unto God my rock, Why hast Thou forgotten me ?"—For I am troubled, as if Thou hadst forgotten me. But Thou triest me thus; and I know that, though Thou delayest, Thou takest not away from me that which Thou hast promised. Yet, "why hast Thou forgotten me?" Such also was the cry of our Head, speaking with our voice-" My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me ?"St. Augustine on the Psalms. 66 From a Letter of the Rev. C. Simeon to the Bishop of Calcutta. 1832. It is, doubtless, a most joyful thought, that we have redemption through the blood of our adorable Saviour, even the forgiveness of sins. But I have no less comfort in the thought that He is exalted to give repentance and remission of sins. I would not wish for the latter without the former. I scarcely ask for the latter in comparison of the former. I feel willing to leave the latter altogether in God's hands, if I may but obtain the former. Repentance is in every way so desirable, so necessary, so suited to honour God, that I seek that above all. The tender heart, the broken and contrite spirit, are to me far above all the joys that I could ever hope for in this vale of tears. . I long to be in my proper place; my hand on my mouth and my mouth in the dust. I would rather have my seedtime here, and wait for my harvest till I myself am carried to the granary of heaven. I feel this to be safe ground. If I have erred all my days, I cannot err here. I am sure that whatever God may despise (and I fear that there is much which passes under the notion of religious experience that will not stand very high in His estimation), He will not despise the broken and contrite heart. I love the picture of the heavenly hosts, both saints and angels; all of them are upon their faces before the throne. I think we hardly set this forth in our sermons as we ought to do. At all events, for me, I think this is the proper posture now, and will be to all eternity. On the 80th Psalm.-On the burden of this Psalm, so to call it (see verses 3, 7, 19), it may be observed, that we get the person of the Lord strikingly revealed through Scripture. Thus, regarded in different lights, He is both the answerer of prayer and the suppliant. He receives the Spirit, and pours out the Spirit (Zech. xii. 10; Acts ii. 22, 23). He is the Rock (Matt. xvi. 18), and yet He looks to God as the Rock (Ps. lxii.). He is one of the flock (Ps. xxiii.), and yet the Shepherd of the flock (John x.). He is on the throne praised, and yet the leader of the people's praise (Ps. cxvi.; Rev. v.). He is a Priest, and yet the redeemed are priests to Him (Rev. xx. 6). In one respect he is a Jew, desiring, as here, the Divine favour for His nation, and waiting for the face of Jehovah to be turned against His people (Isa. viii. 19). In another respect, He is as Jehovah Himself, the God of Israel, with His face turned away from His people (Matt. xxiii. 39); thus strikingly revealed in both His Divine and human place both as the expectant head of Israel, and yet as Israel's God. All this can be understood when the great mystery of "God manifest in the flesh," and its glorious results, are understood. But who can utter it all? See Psalm xviii. 66 God, to the wicked:" they are like the troubled sea that cannot rest:" in storms a raging ocean, and in summer's serenest day ebbing or flowing and breaking its billows, like the world's joys and happiness, on a beach of wrecks and withered weeds. Seek Christ-seek your peace through Him-seek it in Him, and, saved yourselfyourself plucked from the wreck-oh, remember the perishing; let the first breath and effort of your new life be spent for others. I give you an example: and in the words spoken for a fellow-sufferer's life, see what you should do for a fellow-sinner's soul. During a heavy storm off the coast of Spain, a dismasted merchantman was observed by a British frigate drifting before the gale. Every eye and glass were on her, and a canvas shelter on a deck almost level with the sea suggested the idea that there might yet be life on board. With all their faults no men are more alive to humanity than our rough and hardy mariners, and so the order instantly sounds to put the ship about; and presently a boat is lowered, and starts with instructions to bear down upon the wreck. Away after that drifting hulk go these gallant men through the swell of a roaring sea: they reach it; they shout; and now a strange object rolls from that canvas screen against the lee shroud of a broken mast. Hauled into the boat, it proves to be the trunk of a man bent head and knees together, so dried and "There is no peace, saith my shrivelled as to be hardly felt within the ample clothes; so Pre verted one, there is "another perish," changed into one as Dr. Johnson would not admit a quotation in his Dictionary from works which were dangerous to religion or morality, lest any one should be enticed into consulting the originals, and perchance have their minds misled for ever: a great example, which it is to be wished was more followed. Intelligence. MISSIONARY WORK IN CHINA. | Ping Teen Kwoh, or "Celestial -Come for a walk into the city of Canton, in company with a Shanghae missionary. Our way lies through deserted houses, and over heaps of bricks and mortar, the only remains of what was once a large and busy suburb. It lay too near the walls, however, and has all been burnt down by the rebels. Now and then you may see a skull peeping out from the ruins, or the remains of an old coffin, burnt with the house; for the Chinese often keep their dead for many months, while looking out for a good bargain in the way of a grave. At last we come out in full view of the city walls, with gay-coloured flags fluttering in the wind, red, black, white, and blue. Some have on them the characters of the T'ae Kingdom of Universal Peace." Others profess to restore the old Ming," or native Chinese dynasty, which flourished some 230 years ago. But to neither of these titles have our Shanghae rebels any claim. They are only a band of robbers and pirates, the scum of Canton and Fokien. However, we must be civil to them, for our work's sake. So as the gentry go trotting by on their ponies, dressed in silks and satins, scarlet, and blue, and green, and armed with English fire-arms, you can do no less than nod to them in return for their "Chin chin." And here is the gate-the only one out of six that is allowed to be opened. The others are all too near the Imperial camps, and have been stopped up with earth. This is the Siam Toong Mung, or Little East Gate; and small enough you'll say it is, for, if a tall man, you cannot march through without putting your hat in danger. But see! the gate is a double one. Having passed through the strong wicket outside (armed with cannon, so as to sweep the whole length of the wall), you turn sharp round a large bastion, and enter under the low thick arch of the gate proper. Just in front, taking up one side of the square court in which we find ourselves, is the guard-house; more flags, more firearms, and two more cannon, loaded you may be sure. The powder lies in a heap on one side, the shot on the other, and a lighted match, with men smoking, uncomfortably near. are! How careless these Chinese Again we turn round, to the left this time, and another low arch at least ten feet thick, ends in the last gate, made of enormous timbers, studded with large iron nails. "No admittance to-day." 66 'Going out to fight the Imperials." "But I must come in. It is my fighting day as well as yours, for I have to fight the Devil, and all error and wickedness." Then you hear a laugh from the Shanghae men standing round, for they are always ready to be pleased with the pleasantries of the foreign teachers, and the "old brother" who has charge of the gate comes forward. His is a very important post, and you can see by his very long hair and his determined face, that he is the right man in the right place. He is a good friend of ours, and gives a significant nod as we creep under the bar, and squeeze ourselves between the partly-opened gates. And now we are in the besieged city. Just in front of us are planted two more loaded cannon, with pieces of red cloth, the rebels' badge, tied round their muzzles. A few doors further on, on the right hand, you see the gate-guard, a band of fierce-looking Fokien men, who have taken possession of a large handsome house, formerly a rich silk mercer's. Some of them are gambling, others smoking, others sleeping, and most of them talking very loud in their peculiar sharp dialect. Now as we pass along, what a dead silence in the once noisy streets! Every shop and house is close shut up, except one here and there with the door open, where vegetables or meat is sold. And now and then you meet a miserable creature slinking along close to the houses, who has been to buy the oil, &c., for his daily meal. How different from the sleek, well-to-do tradesman he once was-cheeks shrunken, face sallow, eyes staring, and knees trembling beneath him. In place of the cleanshaven heads of the Chinese outside, the hair stands up like stubble, the growth of many months; for, by order of the rebel chiefs, no barber is allowed to shave the people's heads, on pain of losing his own. The poor man shrinks from us as we attempt to speak to him, and soon disappears in his house, close barring the door. Oh, how we long to impart unto these poor creatures the Gospel of God, which could cheer them in their sad estate, and give hope to the most despairing! See here! how vain it is to bar their doors in the hope of escaping plunderers. There is a small band of rebels, some of whom have forced their way in by this broken door; some stand without, to carry off the goods and money as they are thrown forth. A Canton man, their leader, stands with loaded pistol in hand, on the opposite side of the street, and eyes |