ranged to prove the reality and inestimable importance of the death of Jesus.-Ibid.

WHY WAS OUR LORD'S APPEARANCE ON EARTH EXTENDED TO FORTY DAYS AFTER HIS RESURRECTION? As we are told in the Acts of the Apostles, that Jesus remained forty days on earth after his resurrection, we may inquire what reasons are mentioned in the Scriptures for so long a residence.

It was to afford ample time for the Apostles to examine all the evidences of the resurrection of Jesus before he left the world. Thus we are told in the passage of the Acts of the Apostles, already alluded to, that he showed himself alive, by furnishing many infallible proofs during forty days. We might naturally think that the proofs given on the day of the resurrection would have been fully sufficient to convince any class of men that ever lived. But our Saviour, who knew human nature, with all its prejudices and infirmities, infinitely better than we do, thought differently. It is true, all the apostles seem to have been convinced and satisfied. But some individuals among them were not without their doubts. For we are expressly told by Matthew, that when the eleven disciples went to the mountain in Galilee, at which Jesus had appointed to meet them, when they saw him, they threw themselves prostrate before him; "yet some doubted." From this passage we see, that though they had been convinced, yet at times doubts rose in their minds. To prevent those doubts from returning, it was necessary that they should examine the evidence of his resurrection again and again; that they might believe it without wavering, and as firmly as they believed their own existence. For, as they were appointed to the high office of testifying to the world the resurrection of Christ, this was requisite. Accordingly, every time they saw him, the evidence was renewed and strengthened.

He no

longer indeed appeared in a public character, and therefore did not think

it proper to cure diseases as he had done during his ministry. But he performed one miracle evidently for the sake of his apostles. As in the beginning of his ministry, he had first excited their astonishment by a miraculous draught of fishes, so to show them that the same power remained with him, after his resurrection, he performed a similar miracle at the sea of Tiberias, when 150 fishes were taken at one draught. Twice also he exhibited the evidence of prophecy,-first, to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus; and, a second time, at Jerusalem, in the assembly of the apostles and disciples.-Ibid.

ON THE RESURRECTION OF THE BODY.

"Why should it be thought a thing incredible with you that God should raise the dead?"-Acts xxvi. 8.

We have not space just now to introduce a lengthy and elaborate article on the possibility of the resurrection, seeing the Creator of the body is himself the restorer of it to life and immortality; but the following parable by one Mr. Hallett may have the effect of silencing the sceptic, and establishing the faith of the true Christian.

A gentleman of the country, upon the occasion of some signal service this man had done him, gave him a curious silver cup. David (for that was the man's name) was exceedingly fond of the present, and preserved it with the greatest care. But one day, by accident, his cup fell into a vessel of aqua fortis: he, taking it to be no other than common water, thought his cup safe enough, and therefore neglected it till he had despatched an affair of importance, about which his master had employed him, imagining it would be then time enough to take out his cup. At length a fellowservant came into the same room, when the cup was near dissolved; and, looking into the aqua fortis, asked David, who had thrown anything into that vessel. David said that his cup accidentally fell into that water. Upon this, his fellowservant informed him that it was not

common water, but aqua fortis, and that his cup was almost dissolved in it. When David heard this, and was satisfied of the truth of it with his own eyes, he heartily grieved for the loss of his cup; and, at the same time, he was astonished to see the liquor as clear as if nothing at all had been dissolved in it, or mixed with it. As, after a little while, he saw the small remains of it vanish, and could not now perceive the least particle of the silver, he utterly despaired of ever seeing his cup more. Upon this, he bitterly bewailed his loss with many tears, and refused to be comforted. His fellow-servant, pitying him in this condition of sorrow, told him that their master could restore him the very same cup again. David disregarded this as utterly impossible. "What do you talk of?" says he to his fellow-servant. "Do you not know that the cup is entirely dissolved, and that not the least bit of the silver is to be seen? Are not all the little invisible parts of the cup mingled with aqua fortis, and become parts of the same mass? How, then, can my master, or any man alive, produce the silver anew, and restore my cup? It can never be; I give it over for lost: I am sure I shall never see it again." His fellow-servant still insisted that their master could restore the same cup; and David as earnestly insisted that it was absolutely impossible. While they were debating this point, their master came in, and asked them what they were disputing about. When they had informed him, he said to David, "What you so positively pronounced to be impossible, you shall see me do with very little trouble. Fetch me," said he to the other servant, "some salt water, and pour it into the vessel of aqua fortis. Now look," says he, "the silver will presently fall to the bottom of the vessel in a white powder." When David saw this, he began to have good hopes of seeing his cup restored. Next, his master ordered a servant to drain off the liquor, and to take up the powdered silver and melt it. Thus it was reduced into one solid piece; and then, by the

silversmith's hammer, formed into a cup of the same shape as before. Thus David's cup was restored with a very small loss of its weight and value.

It is no uncommon thing for men, like David in this parable, to imagine that to be impossible, which yet persons of greater skill and wisdom than themselves can easily perform. David was as positive that his master could not restore his cup, as unbelievers are that it is incredible God should raise the dead; and he had as much appearance of reason on his side as they. If a human body, dead, crumbles into dust, and mingles with the earth, or with the water of the sea, so as to be discernible no more, so the silver cup was dissolved into parts invisible, and mingled with the mass of aqua fortis. Is it not then easy to be conceived, that as a man has wisdom and power enough to bring these parts of the silver to be visible again, and to reduce them to a cup as before,-so God, the maker of heaven and earth, must have wisdom and power enough to bring the parts of a dissolved human body together, and to form them into a human body again? What though David could not restore his own cup? Was that a reason that no man could do it? And when his master had promised to restore it, what though David could not possibly conjecture by what method his master would do it? This was no proof that his master was at a loss for a method. So, though men cannot raise the dead, yet God, who is infinitely wiser and stronger, can. And though we cannot find out the method by which He will do this, yet we are sure that He who at first took the dust of the ground, and formed it into the body of man, can, with the same ease, take the dust into which my body shall be resolved, and form it into a human body again. Nay, even if a body be burnt, and consumed by fire, the parts of that body are no more really lost than the invisible particles of the dissolved cup. As David, then, was wrong in thinking that it was impossible for his master to restore his

wrong for us to think it impossible that God should raise the dead.

HOW XAVIER WAS IM-
PRESSED.

WHEN Francis Xavier, the youthful, the eloquent, the noble, was engaged in the pursuits of his varied and wonderful mind, in Paris, its university, and its more romantic neighbourhood, as he yielded himself to the fascinations mingling around him, and beckoning him in various ways, there stepped forth and spoke to him a plainly dressed but powerful preacher, of lofty bearing, of stern deportment, mighty in the assumption of a voluntary povertyIgnatius Loyola. "Francis," said he, "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"

He would not let the youth go. He attended the hall where Xavier delivered his eloquent prelections; he stood and listened before the orator's chair; but, when the applause had subsided, and the crowd had retired, then he was by the side of the eloquent scholar. He touched him on the shoulder: "Francis," said he, "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"

Noble as he was, Xavier was not rich; his affairs became embarrassed; he needed help. The stern apostle of voluntary poverty did not forsake; he came to him with assistance; he produced mysterious aid; but, as he put the bag into the hand of his friend, he was ready with his old question, "Francis, What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"

They wandered together by the banks of the Seine; they trod together through its groves of trees and wound their way into its lovely recesses; but ever as the enthusiastic and imaginative Xavier paused, enraptured before the spectacle of some astonishing beauty, some enchanting or spell compelling spot, the voice thrilled through him: "Francis, What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" And the reader knows

quent scholar, and he became the comrade and the disciple of Ignatius Loyola.

In this spirit did the subject of our memoir work. This was the guestion he constantly put to his hearers and friends. He aided the lowly to obtain their rights, to secure civil privileges and power; but he did not lead them to think that that was all. He, in the moment of their highest elation, proposed the question, "What shall it profit?"

He led the working man to thoughts connected with domestic economy, with the happy support of his household, with the wellbeing of his life, and the serenity of his old age; but, when calculations and gains were most clearly exhibited, then came the law of a divine arithmetic, "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" So with the young; he excited and kindled within them the noble thirst for knowledge, the love of letters, the desire for information, the love of intermeddling with all the stores of useful learning, of books, of science, and the stores of inquiry. But ever and ever, above all, arose the voice-a voice of persuasion, entreaty, of love, of reason, "What, what, what shall it profit if a man gained the whole world and lose his own soul?" The reality of eternal interests was perpetually present to his mind-perpetually before his eye he set the importance of future concerns. He knew-no man better, for he acted ever on the principle-how to sacrifice the present to save the future. Most men mortgage eternity to secure time; he mortgaged time to secure eternity. He acted upon, and he invoked, the lofty selfishness of Moses: "He had respect unto the recompense of the reward." And thus, in his ministry, as this mighty future ever hung before him, his every ministration rounded itself and closed in with a concern for the salvation of souls.

INDUSTRY.-A man may go idle to hell; but he that will go to heaven must be busy.-M. Henry.

THE LESSON OF A LIFETIME.

"Father, glorify thy Name!"-The young student wondered why the old pastor so often repeated these words. In prayer, in preaching, in exhorting, ever this sentence, welling up from the depths of his soul, hovered about his lips, and gave a cast of its own to his life.

66

Father, glorify thy Name!"– Whatever else Ernest failed to learn during his sojourn with his father in the ministry, this one thought became fixed, imbedded in his soul. He could never think of the study, the fireside, the vestry, the pulpit, without a recurrence of that one sentiment. At times it took other forms of expression, but they had all of them the same meaning. Occasionally Ernest was surprised at the repetition. There had been seasons when it had seemed to him irrelevant. Again he would muse silently upon its exact meaning. He tried to analyze its hidden purport.

It was not till years afterwards, when many pages of life had been turned, thickly inscribed with characters of joy and grief, that he came to realize with power the significance of these words. They became at last dear and familiar as they had been to his old teacher, his exemplar in the ministerial life. Ernest came at last to realize that, pure and sweet and overflowing as may be the joys of the young Christian, there is a permanent peace wrought by the Holy Spirit, to the production of which the experiences of this mortal life are made the instrument. He learned also that the inward work thus elaborated, amid the changes and vicissitudes, the hopes and misgivings, the joy and grief of a lifelong history, finds its expression perfectly in these very words.

"Father, glorify thy Name!"Accomplish thy will, thou sovereign Lord of all. Thine own ends are the best, and the means by which it pleases thee to accomplish those ends are the very best possible.

The soul, looking down the long track of eternal being to which it is destined, realizes how small a part

of its existence is contained in this

present preparatory life. Passing in thought the barrier which separates it from the spiritual world, the wisest of human purposes seem blurred by errors, and leading him who formed them to unknown dangers, and the trembling and beleaguered spirit turns and asks of the Father of spirits to accomplish his own infinite will.

Then, and scarcely before, does he become aware of the depths of that infinite fountain of love and blessedness which, in its overflowings, is wont to bless the creatures which it has pleased the Eternal Father to create, whom having fallen, it has pleased Him to redeem; having wandered, it has pleased him to recall.-Watchman and Reflector.

NEGLECT OF BIBLICAL
STUDY.

Is not the dwarfish character of much of the piety that exists traceable to the neglect of studying the Scriptures? Not neglect to read them; we trust that this, though too common, is not so generally chargeable; but neglect of their study. Do not too many Christians regard this as something that belongs exclusively to ministers, professors, and, at most, to Sunday school teachers ? For themselves, they read the plainer parts of the Bible for devotional purposes. They would feel wanting in their duty if they did not. But to dig below the surface, to pass beyond the first impression of single passages, to study the scope of whole books, the connections of their several parts, and all those incidental features of the sacred writing, by which its greatest significance is apprehended -such studies they contentedly leave to scholars and critics. It is for the learned, for clergymen and students, they conceive, that commentaries and books of antiquities, illustrations of Scripture and of the times and lands of the Bible, are primarily written. Common Bible readers need not trouble themselves with such accessory investigations.

A greater mistake could not be made. The Word of God does not

speak with its full power, except to those who strive to understand, that they may follow it. Mere study, with no practical, obedient purpose, is not enough, of itself, to impart true knowledge. But it is necessary to any large attainment in Divine things. The better the Bible is understood, the more thoroughly it is studied in all its relations-the stronger will be our faith in it, the more manifest its Divine authority, its wisdom, and its beauty. There is no study more profitable, and none more interesting when rightly pursued. Even as regards the mere externals of the narrative, those who neglect it do not know what they lose. The words of eternal life are made more sweetly familiar to us when we can transport ourselves to the lands where they were originally uttered, when we can bring before us a vivid picture of the scenes, the garb, the accompaniments of those events whose simple history has thrilled so many ages and nations. Then we seem to hear the prophets as those heard them to whom they were immediately sent, only not with their unbelief. For with those who walked to Emmaus, we can hear Jesus "beginning at Moses," expounding "in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself." We can perceive the face of the land after all changes, the records of human history through all ages, appearing as witnesses for the truth of God. However unsanctified curiosity may deal with it, this accumulating evidence is strengthening to the Christian's faith, stimulating to all his desires after increased conformity to the Gospel, and to his hopes founded on those "better promises" which are his richest portion.

PREACHING FOR THE MASSES.

NEVER, perhaps, was this provided on so large a scale as at present. During the summer ministers of all classes proclaimed the gospel to crowds assembled in the open air, and as the approach of winter rendered this course no longer practicable, large public halls and other places of a neutral religious character

were opened, for the purpose of preaching to the masses. A new movement, on a very large scale, has sprung into existence. Sunday afternoon lectures have become quite popular. Now we wish to look on this movement in anything rather than a cynical spirit, but we cannot view it with unmingled satisfaction. That such crowds should be gathered together to listen to the ministers of Christ, is in itself a pleasing circumstance; and that these ministers are in most cases actuated by the highest motives, we rejoice to believe. But we fear that the policy adopted is not altogether sound. Frequently ad captandum titles are announced, such as "Love in a Cottage," "Five Shillings and Costs," "Parliamentary Reform," &c., &c.; and in some of the lectures religion appears to be lugged in by main force, or introduced almost with an apology.

Some of the lectures we have seen would have been appropriately headed with the apostle's motto slightly altered, "I determined to know anything among you, rather than Jesus Christ, and him crucified." The chief element is a low humour, often interspersed with slang phrases, &c., and just now and then a few words which seem anything but in place on the subject of religion. These remarks will not, of course, apply to all the Sabbath afternoon lectures; but looking at the preaching of many it seems to argue a loss of faith in the adaptation and sufficiency of the gospel. There is a covering up of the offence of the cross,-a pandering to a morbid taste, which is the reverse of honourable, and which, I believe, is unnecessary. Every true minister will admit, even though the admission should seem to reflect on himself, that it is possible so to preach Christ crucified "not with enticing word's of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit, and of power," that the masses will be attracted, and edified, and blessed. We have, thank God, many striking examples of this, and I wish to refer to one of the most pleasing.

For more than six months the town of Sheffield has been the scene of the labours of the Rev. James Caughey. Six or seven times every week has he delivered his message, and instead of becoming stale and threadbare, as some would have expected, his popularity and influence have constantly increased, so that the chapels where he has ministered have been invariably