which these latter ages of the world have been blessed? "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." The gift of the spirit is a great and glorious gift; but have we not reason to expect it after the gift that has been bestowed, the gift of God's only begotten Son? God's ancient people used to encourage their confidence under present difficulties, and their hope of future blessings, by calling to mind the great things which God had wrought for them in ages past. In the God that had delivered their fathers out of the land of Egypt, and brought them into the land of promise, they felt that they could safely trust. And have we not still greater reason to adopt a similar course? To be endued with power from on high, and to realize all the consequent advantages enumerated in the preceding article may seem, and to numbers doubtless does seem, something too great and good to be expected. But let us think of what God has done for us. Let us contemplate the Saviour's love, and as we see him fasting in the wilderness, enduring the reproaches of the Scribes and Pharisees in the synagogues, and in. the temple; as we see him agonizing in the garden, and sweating as it were, great drops of blood, falling to the ground; as we see him meekly submitting to all the indignities and insults heaped upon him in the High Priest's house, and in the hall of Pilate; as we see him amid the clamours of the populace ascending the hill of Calvary, bearing his own cross; as we see him extended on that cross breathing out his soul into his Father's hands, crying "It is finished," and giving up the ghost; as we see him afterwards rising from the dead, and triumphantly ascending to the right hand of the Majesty on high; and as we see him now pleading his people's cause before the throne, ever living to make intercession for them; as we behold and consider these things, let us ask ourselves, Why all this? What is its object and design? Is it not all intended to procure the salvation of the human family? And are not the influences of the Holy Spirit in all their plenitude and fulness essential to the salvation of the world? And in order that we may help to hasten the world's salvation, is it not requisite that we should be filled with the Holy Ghost-endued with power from on high? And can the requisite influences be withheld? Has Jesus died to procure them? Does he now intercede for their bestowment? Is he exalted a Prince and a Saviour to shed them forth? And can they be withheld? Oh no! Our unbelief gives way; our doubts vanish. "He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him, also, freely give us all things" requisite to accomplish the great objects for which his Son was given? "If we, being evil, know how to give good gifts to our children, how much more shall our Heavenly Father (who is so good as to withhold not his onlybegotten Son) give his Holy Spirit to them that ask him?" couraged by considerations like these, and reposing unshaken confidence in the merits of the Saviour's death, we will cast our despondency away, we will expect to be endued with power from on high; nay more, emboldened by the promises of Jehovah and by the displays of his infinite compassion which we have already witnessed, En "We'll take the blessing from above, And wonder at his boundless love." W. T. I FIND more sure marks of authenticity in the Bible, than in any profane history whatsoever.--Isaac Newton. And Sir Isaac Newton was not unqualified to judge on such a subject. How is it then, that so many who admit the truth of common history without hesitation, should reject the Bible? We answer, some are ignorant, and know not what they do; and others are wicked, and reject the Bible, not because they find it wanting in evidence, but because it reproves their wickedness, and troubles their guilty consciences. They can read and believe common histories, without having their sins pressed home upon them; but not the Bible. The matter is explained by the Saviour: "men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil.” THE POWER OF CHARITY. Ar Montpellier (the neighbourhood of which place was styled by the French settlers, "the land of the green mountains," and which is described in "Buckingham's America" as possessing every element of landscape beauty, and every combination of the picturesque) there lived a pious lady, who devoted the greater part of her property to the relief of objects in distress. It happened one day, while passing through a little wood, accompanied by her servant, that she was stopped by a man, who presented a pistol to her, and demanded her money or her life. The good lady, without being terrified, looked on him with an air of kindness, and said, "Ah! my friend, you must be reduced to great extremity, since you are determined to take a part which, while drawing on you the wrath of God, exposes you incessantly to all the rigours of human justice. I wish I had wherewith to supply your wants, and extricate you from the dangerous situation in which you are; but I have, alas! only eighteen francs, which I had taken for my journey, and I offer you them with all my heart." The highwayman looking upon her attentively, before he would take the money, wished to know who she was; and when she told him, "Wretch that I am," said he, throwing himself at her feet, "I have many times experienced your bounty, and have never been denied relief when I have sought it of you; and I was now upon the point of injuring you! Ah! believe me, my good lady, I did not know you, or I should not have molested you; for though I have given you but too great a proof that I am a robber, yet I am not a monster, which I must be to injure a person so charitable as you are.— Go on then, keep your money, and I will myself escort you out of the wood; and if any one come to attack you, I will defend you at the hazard of my life." The lady was exceedingly affected, and endeavour ed to represent to him his danger, and to urge motives of honour and religion, to induce him to quit so dreadful a mode of life; and promising to do more for him another time, she again offered him the eigh teen francs; but knowing she wanted them for her journey, he would not accept them; till at last, she prevailed on him to take nine of them, which she threw to him on going out of the wood. MEMOIR OF ANN RIDGWAY, OF STALYBRIDGE. THE subject of the following memoir was born at Stalybridge in the year 1807. Whilst very young, she had the misfortune to be deprived of her mother by death, but by the kind and watchful care of her father and sisters, she was trained up in the fear of the Lord. She was in early life accustomed to attend the ministry of the Word, and became a scholar in the Chapel Street Sunday School, Stalybridge, in which she subsequently discharged the arduous duties of a teacher in so exemplary a manner, as to gain the affections and esteem of all who knew her. Though she was always remarkably steady and consistent in her outward deportment, yet it does not appear that she knew any thing experimentally of the saving grace of God, until near the twentieth year of her age. About this time, under the ministry of Mr. Newbery, she was fully awakened to a sense of her danger, and realised such clear and affecting views of her obligations to surrender herself to God, that she cried earnestly, and without ceasing, for the forgiveness of her sins, and for grace to enable her to devote herself soul and body to his service and glory. At this period of her religious history, she became a member of Sister Pearson's Class,-and fully indentified herself with the despised followers of the meek and holy Jesus. It may be well here to state, that previous to the period to which we have just alluded, Sister R. felt much of the care of a "Martha" in reference to the management of household affairs-and frequently manifested on the Sabbath, more concern about the order and cleanliness of the house and furniture, than her elder sister could cordially approve of, in consequence of which her sister repeatedly expostulated with her on the subject. The evening upon which she was convinced of sin, under a sermon preached by Mr. New bery, she returned home later than usual, and upon her sister's enquiring the reason, she replied with a heart ready to burst with penitential sorrow,- "Thou shalt never more have to reprove me for doing things on a Sunday ;" and from that time she was always remarkably strict in her observance of the Sabbath, and in commanding those under her roof, that they kept sacred the day of rest. The awakening impressions of which Sister R. was the subject, though acutely painful in their nature, happily issued in that repentance which needeth not to be repented of; for when she felt the force of Gospel truth, and saw herself, a guilty, wrath-deserving sinner, she resolved that she would not rest, until she found forgiveness and peace, through the mediation of Jesus Christ. She sought the blessing earnestly, with groanings and tears; nor did she seek in vain: for whilst partaking of the memorials of the dying love of Jesus, at the Sacramental Table, she was enabled by grace, through faith, to realise a sweet consciousness of her interest in the blood of Christ-even the forgiveness of her sins. She afterwards told her companions that when God revealed his forgiving love to her soul, she was so powerfully affected, that she could not but rise and declare what she had experienced as she felt prompted to do: and with heartfelt gratitude she assured them, that she had found the pearl of great price, and could sing with the poet :— Though her disposition was naturally diffident and unobtrusive, yet she was not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, when it had become the power of God unto the salvation of her soul. Religion had become the main concern of her life, the only, yet ever-flowing fountain of her joy, and she made it her business to be "instant in season and out of season" in commending it to all within the sphere of her influence. When conversing with her companions, or with those by whom she was surrounded at her employment, the subjects of her conversation generally were, the great business for eternity-the amazing love of God in giving his Son to save a sinful world-and the simple story of her own conversion and religious experience. She often closed her remarks on such subjects as these, by endeavouring to persuade those with whom she conversed, to surrender their undivided hearts to God. When she met with her companions in the evening, she frequently gave them a relation of her experience during the day—and she would have said sometimes, "O how sweetly the day has passed! what delightful and refreshing seasons I have enjoyed!" Thus whilst far removed from every thing like ostentation and show, she seemed resolved to lose no opportunity of doing good. In the Sabbath School she laboured incessantly to persuade the young to embrace the religion of the Saviour; and in the various circles in which she moved, she endeavoured to do good, not only by exhibiting a pious example, but also by administering reproof when she saw it required, and by reading and lending religious books. She trembled at the idea of bringing any reproach upon religion, and assured her companions, that she would rather be followed to the grave in the midst of her days, than live to disgrace the cause of the Redeemer. She was anxiously solicitous at a throne of grace for the welfare of her fellow-travellers to Zion, and if any of them halted by the way, or relaxed in holy fervour and devotedness to God, she visited them, and with prayers, entreaties, and tears, she would encourage them to go forward, and say to those of a fearful heart, "be strong, fear not." Her pious exertions for the wel fare of those within the sphere of her influence were not fruitless. Two of her companions, for whose eternal interests she manifested the most anxious solicitude, and for a length of time apparently in vain, at length yielded to her pious importunity, were introduced by her to her class, and became devoted, ex. emplary Christians. One of them died happy in the Lord about ten years ago, and is doubtless with our departed sister, enjoying the happiness of the spirits of the just made perfect. The other is still a member of the Church Militant. The duty of reproving the inconsistent and the careless, though enforced by Divine Authority, is, perhaps, of all others, the most neglected. To the sensitive mind of our Sister, this important duty was extremely painful;—but she had learned from Christ to consult the will of God before her feelings, and had imbibed too much of the constraining influence of the second great commandment, to suffer her fellow-creatures to sin, without warning them of the consequences. An instance of her success in the discharge of this duty, though unknown to Sister R., has been made known to her friends since her death, by an individual whom she had often reproved fourteen or fifteen years ago. Though the person aliuded to had disregarded and almost forgotten her admonition on the subject, yet when she heard of her sudden removal by death, she was so forcibly reminded of her faithful reproofs, that she immediately gave up the practice for which she had been so often reproved, and resolved to pay strict attention to the claims of duty for the future. "Thou shalt in any wise rebuke thy neighbour, and not suffer sin upon him.""Cast thy bread upon the waters for thou shalt find it after many days." About two years after her conversion to God, in the year 1828, she entered into the marriage state with brother Ridgway. In her new relation, she entered upon a new scene of duties, joys and sorrows, to which she had hitherto been a stranger; and with her partner she resolved that religion should be made the great business of life, and that in all their ways, they would acknowledge the Lord; and throughout the period of their happy union, they have been enabled to say, "In all our ways thy hand we own, Thy ruling providence we see." Before she had been married twelve months, she gave birth to twins. This event gave a great shock to her constitution, from which she never fully recovered. During the year 1831 she met with a severe trial in the loss of a lovely little girl, just beginning to walk and lisp its mother's name, which was suddenly taken ill, and died in a few days. Sister R. was always remarkably fond of her children, but at this time this was her only child, and the shock was a peculiarly heavy one. Her heart was almost broken, but in the depth of her sorrow she was enabled to say, "Thy will, O God, be done." After its death she said to her husband, "I believe God has taken away my child because I made an idol of it, or to save me from doing so, or for some other wise and gracious purpose, and therefore, painful as the shock is, I will bow to his will." On another occasion she said to her husband, "Perhaps this is a punishment for our unfaithfulness, let us kiss the rod, and the hand that hath appointed it, and resolve to live nearer to God. Let the Scriptures be read more constantly, and family and closet devotion attended to with greater fervour, and let us humble ourselves before God, lest a greater evil come upon us." As she continued to bear children, her bodily frame declined in health and vigour, and on such occasions she was generally reduced to such a state of feebleness and helplessness, that nothing short of the kind interposition of Providence, could have restored her to her family and friends. She bore her afflictions with Christian fortitude and patience; she seldom complained; she never murmured, but often said, "I wish to bear with patience whatever my Heavenly Father sees fit to lay upon me. I believe he sees it necessary for me to be afflicted, and I wish to bow with humble submission to his will." As her family cares increased, and her health became impaired, she often lamented that she was unable to enjoy the means of grace, and oppor tunities of religious communion with God's people, as she did in the early period of her Christian career. When speaking of those times she said, "Ah! those were my golden days, when I had neither worldly nor family cares, -when I had a stout healthy body, and my soul filled with burning zeal for God's glory,---those were happy days." Notwithstanding her increasing infirmities, she continued closely united to God, and though there was little noise or outward profession, she was esteemed by all who knew her, as a devoted disciple of the Lord Jesus. By her class-mates she was greatly beloved. Her experience was generally of a very profitable and instructive character, and her prayers were presented to the throne of grace, with such holy fervour, and such lively confidence in God, as often led those present to feel "It is good to be here." During the time that Mr. Dyson travelled in the Staley bridge Circuit, Sister R. was repeatedly urged to take charge of a female class. She could not, however, be persuaded to do so; and when closely pressed and reasoned with by her husband on the subject, she wept, and said, "I feel myself laid under obligations to my Heavenly Father which I can never discharge; and if I give my all to him, my offering would be poor, compared with what he has done for me; but I cannot overcome my diffidence. I want to be useful, and to do more for God's cause than I have done; but I dare not engage a class. I will try to live nearer to God, and to labour according to my ability in another way, but it must be in an humbler sphere." She did, however, assist her leader occasionally, and engage in prayer in the class more frequently than she had done previously, until her increasing infirmities rendered her incapable of attending the means. During the last few years of her life, she was several times brought very near to the gates of death, and about three years ago, she appeared to be reduced to the last extremity. Her friends were watching around her bed, and expecting every moment to be her last. At that moment of anxiety and suspense, she suddenly revived, and with the holy animation of a dying Christian, raising her hands and eyes towards heaven, she quoted those lines from one of our hymns: "From care, and sin, and sorrow free, Give me O Lord to find in thee, An everlasting rest." And then she appeared to be sweettrary to all expectation, she was again ly falling asleep in Jesus; but, conrestored to her family and friends; but from that time she considered herself to be treading on the brink of the grave, and often said, that her stay here would be short. For some weeks previous to her departure, she expressed her fears that she should not survive her approaching confinement. A few days before her death, when in conversafeel a want of the means. tion with her husband, she said, “I I always found it profitable to have communion with God's people, and now that I am God knows all things. deprived of it, I feel my loss; but I am not able to go to the meeting, and he requires no impossibilities. I hope I am living to his glory, and in the enjoyment of his favour, and you must remember me at a throne of grace." And then with tears she forget her in the trying hour, but begged that her husband would not that in the hour of nature's extremi ty he would retire to his closet, and plead with God on her behalf. On Thursday the 4th of Novembut was so far recovered in the afterber, she was unwell during the day, noon, that she conversed with her family as cheerfully as she had done for months. About 8 o'clock she suddenly became worse, so that her About ten she gave birth to a little husband had to carry her to bed. daughter, before which it was evident that the wheels of nature had begun to lag. Stimulants were applied, but in vain; for the hand of death was upon her. Of this she seemed fully aware, and said to her and about eleven o'clock she said, sister, "This will be the last time;" "I am going-I am going-I am going-Lord help me," and immediately fell asleep in Jesus. An affectionate husband and four young children are left behind her, in the vale of tears; but many prayers are |