gliding relentlessly from them; they would not be alive when the next

sun rose.

"For a day or two past the men had lost their voices. But now Captain Rounceville whispered, 'Let us pray.' The Portuguese patted him on the shoulder in sign of deep approval. All knelt at the base of the oar that was waving the signal coat aloft, and bowed their heads. The sea was tossing; the sun rested, a red, rayless disk, on the sea line in the west. When the men presently raised their heads they would have roared a hallelujah if they had had a voice; the ship's sails lay wrinkled and flapping against her masts; she was going about! Here was a rescue at last, and in the very last instant of time that was left for it. No, not rescue yet-only the imminent prospect of it. The red disk sank under the sea, and darkness blotted out the ship. By and by came a pleasant sound-oars moving in a boat's row-locks. Nearer it came, and nearer, within thirty steps, but nothing visible. Then a deep voice, Hol-lo!' The castaways could not answer; their swollen tongues refused voice. The boat skirted round and round the raft; started away-the agony of it!-returned, rested the oars, close at hand, listening, no doubt. The deep voice again, 'Hol-lo! Where are you shipmates?' Captain Rounceville whispered to his men, saying, 'Whisper your best, boys! now-all at once?' So they sent out an eight-fold whisper in hoarse concert,' Here!' There was life in it if it succeeded: death if it failed. After that supreme moment, Captain Rounceville was conscious of nothing until he came to himself on board the saving ship." Said the minister concluding:

"There was one little moment of time in which that raft could be visible from that ship, and only one. If that little fleeting moment had passed unfruitful, those men's doom was sealed. As close as that does God shave events foreordained from the beginning of the world. When the sun reached the water's edge that day, the captain of the ship was sitting on deck reading his prayer-book. The book fell; he stooped to pick it up, and happened to glance at the sun. In that instant that far-off raft appeared for a second against the red disk, its needle-like oar and diminutive signal cut sharp and black against the bright surface, and in the next instance was thrust away into the dusk again. But that ship, that captain, and that pregnant instant had had their work appointed for them in the dawn of time, and could not fail of the performance. The chronometer of God never errs!"

Is fixed for TUESDAY, JUNE 15. Will the Officers of our Churches see to it that each Church is represented in the financial returns for this year. There is a chance to have collections on Sunday, June 13. If that is impossible, send subscriptions. IT IS A DUTY EACH CHURCH OWES TO ITS POSITION IN THE DENOMINATION TO GIVE A FINANCIAL SIGN OF INTEREST IN THIS MOST IMPORTANT DEPARTMENT OF OUR WORK. Do

not suffer yourselves to be left out. P. O. O., notes, and cheques, received by our Treasurer, Mr. T. H. Harrison, 18, Wardwick, Derby. JOHN CLIFFORD, Secs. J. FLETCHER,

Secularizing the Spiritual.

BY W. H. H. MURRAY.

"When

When

MEN cannot do a worse thing than to secularize spirituality. the salt hath lost its savour, wherewith can it be salted ?" religion has lost its fine religious element, which makes it superior to the world and able to overcome the world, has been overcome by the world and become worldly itself, what shall charge it with its own heavenly force again? What shall put the divine into that which has become human? How shall we make our churches mean God when they mean man?

This introduction of false distinctions into our Protestant churches is all the more shameful because it is in no sense necessary; that is, neither the structure of our society nor the tendency of our civilization demands it. These are rather opposed to it; for the structure of our society was not in the beginning, has never been, and is not to-day, aristocratic. We have no orders of nobility; we have no royal titles; we have no ancient families; we have no great landed estates; we have no materials from which to create a caste which, by reason of its traditions and its glory too, can be regarded respectable.

The introduction of aristocratic churches among a Democratic people, is such a folly and a wickedness as to find no palliation in the state of society and the temper of the times. Here, in America, and among us Protestants, too, who refuse rank and titles even to the vicegerents of Christ, there is no shadow of an excuse for such proceeding. Here, if anywhere on God's earth, religion should be popular; its privileges should be the people's privileges; its expression and administration, the working out of the people's life.

These principles apply to individuals also. They apply to us all, and should be admitted to that position of power over us whence to shape our daily lives. If, therefore, there be any strength in us, any grace, any equipment of faculty by which we are made capable to do what the average man can not do; then should we lend ourselves in the advantage that we have over others to those who have it not. He who can make money when the many can not, should make it for the needy, and not for himself alone. He who can think beyond the average man, should think for the average man. The artist, the sculptor, the author, the orator, the singer-these, and whoever represents any power, any grace, any influence, any ministry helpful to man beyond what the multitudes know, should give of their gifts to the multitudes, even as Christ gave of the bread, formed by His power, to the famishing thousands. Men famish to-day. They are hungry in their minds, starved in their souls, and they need the Christ-men and Christ-women of this age to give them bread which they alone can give.

For what are gifts, attainments, capacities, culture-what is art, and science, and civilization itself-if not means by which God, the maker of all, works for the upbuilding of men? In spiritual things we are all helpers one of another. The strong are to help the weak, the rich assist the poor, the wise teach the ignorant, the cultured be an example for the rude. A church is not an edifice, but a brotherhood; and at its head is one Father and Elder Brother of us all.

THE design of this article is to propound several rules, by a steady conformity to any one of which a man may preach so as not to convert anybody. It is generally conceded at the present day that the Holy Spirit converts souls to Christ by means of truth adapted to that end. It follows that a selfish preacher will not skilfully adapt means to convert souls to Christ, for this is not his end.

1. Let your supreme motive be to secure your own popularity; then, of course, your preaching will be adapted to that end, and not to convert souls to Christ.

2. Aim at pleasing, rather than at converting your hearers.

3. Aim at securing for yourself the reputation of a beautiful writer. 4. Avoid preaching doctrines that are offensive to the carnal mind, lest they should say of you, as they did of Christ, "This is a hard saying, who can hear it?" and that you are injuring your influnce.

Denounce sin in the abstract, but make no allusion to the sins of your present audience.

6.

Preach the Gospel as a remedy, but conceal or ignore the fatal disease of the sinner.

7. Preach salvation by grace, but ignore the condemned and lost condition of the sinner, lest he should understand what you mean by grace, and feel his need of it.

8. Preach Christ as an infinitely amiable and good natured being, but ignore those scathing rebukes of sinners and hypocrites which so often made His hearers tremble.

9. Avoid, especially, preaching to those who are present. Preach about sinners, and not to them. Say they, and not you, lest anyone should make a personal and saving application of your subject.

10. Aim to make your hearers pleased with themselves, and, hence, with you; and be careful not to wound the feelings of anyone.

11. Preach no searching sermons, lest you convict and convert the worldly members of your church.

12. Do not make the impression that you expect your hearers to commit themselves upon the spot, and give their hearts to God.

13. Leave the impression that they are expected to go away in their sins, and to consider the matter at their convenience.

14. Say so little of hell, that your people will infer that you do not believe in its existence.

15. Make the impression that, if God is as good as you are, He will send no one to hell.

16. Often present God in His parental love and relations; but ignore His governmental and legal relations to His subjects, lest the sinner should find himself condemned already, and the wrath of God abiding on him.

17. Avoid pressing the doctrine of total moral depravity, lest you should offend, or even convict and convert, the moralist.

18. Do not rebuke the worldly tendencies of the church, lest you should hurt their feelings, and finally convert some of them.

SUNDAY SCHOOL CENTENNIAL MEMORIALS.

223

19. Be time-serving, or you will endanger your salary; and, besides, if you speak out and are faithful, you may convert somebody.

20. Ridicule solemn earnestness in pulling sinners out of the fire, and recommend, by precept and example, a jovial, fun-loving religion, and sinners will have little respect for your serious preaching.

21. Cultivate a fastidious taste in your people, by avoiding all disagreeable allusions to the last judgment and final retribution.

22. If your text suggests any alarming thoughts, pass lightly over it, and by no means dwell upon and enforce it.

23. Address the imagination, and not the conscience of your hearers. 24. Encourage church sociables, and attend them yourself, because they tend so strongly to levity as to compromise Christian dignity and sobriety, and thus paralyze the power of your preaching.

25. Encourage the cultivation of the social in so many ways as to divert the attention of yourself and your church-members from the infinite gulf and danger of the unconverted among you.

The experience of ministers who have steadily adhered to any of the above rules will attest the soul-destroying efficacy of such a course; and churches whose ministers have steadily conformed to any of these rules can testify that such preaching does not convert souls to Christ. PRESIDENT FINNEY.

Sunday School Centennial Memorials.

ARRANGEMENTS are being made all over the country to celebrate the Centenary of Sunday Schools, with a view to deepen the interest of our children in the Institution to which they owe so much, and to secure an advance in the efficiency of the work being carried on within our schools. The first object is important in itself, and comparatively easy of attainment: the second is most momentous, and beset with difficulties. But better aid could hardly be given in attaining either object than that supplied by the Sunday School Union.

Assistance, with regard to the first object, is given in the shape of (1.) An Address to Scholars, by Ancient Simeon-historical, practical, informing, and interesting. Several illustrations aid in making its pages welcome. (2.) A volume, by Mrs. H. B. Paull, on ROBERT RAIKES AND HIS SCHOLARS, in which we find the chief incidents connected with the rise of Sunday Schools woven into a fascinating story. This ought to be in the hands of all our children. (3.) A Medal has also been struck for the children, having on one side a good impression of the Founder of Sunday Schools, and on the other a representation of Christ blessing little children. (4.) HYMNS AND TUNES, AND SERVICES OF SONG, are also provided for the Centennial celebrations. The selection of both Hymns and Tunes is unquestionably good: and the Services of Song, by Mr. B. Clarke and Rev. Paxton Hood, give every promise of special interest.

But the Sunday School Union looks beyond the Centennial Year to the prodigious work yet waiting to be done, and its general editor, Mr. B. Clarke, issues a most stimulating and helpful address to teachers, entitled STEPPING STONES. Excelsior must be the motto. We have not yet attained, but we follow after, if that we may apprehend that for which Christ Jesus has originated this Institution.

May the year be as memorable by the real advance made in our work, as 1780 is by its beginning. JOHN CLIFFORD.

The Land of Short Memories.

FOR THE YOUNG.

GEORGIE meant to be a good boy, but he very seldom did anything that he was told to do. He nearly always forgot it. Once when his sister May was very sick, he was sent after some medicine for her. So he started in a great hurry; but he met Fred Smith with his dog, and Fred coaxed him to go and coast "just once" down the long Red Hill. Then he forgot all about May and the medicine until it was quite dark, and he felt so sorry and ashamed, that he ran home, and crept up the back stair-way to bed, hungry, and lonely, and cold.

By and by, he fell asleep, and when he awoke he was in a new and strange place. He found himself in a house which was only partially covered by a roof, and the rain came in through the uncovered part, and dropped upon his bed. Georgie sat up and looked around him. There was a fire-place in the room, besides some wood and kindlings, which the poor shivering little fellow eyed very wistfully, thinking that some one might perhaps light a fire. It was very chilly, and his teeth chattered. There was a wee old woman sitting in the chimney-corner, and Georgie spoke to her.

"What is it you want, Jimmie ?" she said.

Will you please tell me what your name is, and where I am?" he asked. "My name—well, really, I forget it just now," she replied, "but you are in the Land of Short Memories-that I am aware of!"

"But what shall I call you?" asked Georgie.

“Oh, call me Mite! That will do as well as any other name till you forget it, Henry."

"My name is Georgie."

"Is it? Well, I will try and recollect it, 'Tom,' you said it was, didn't you?" "No, I didn't!" retorted Georgie, getting cross with the old lady, for he thought she meant to tease him.

"There, there!" cried Mite; the doctors said you must not get excited, or else that you must, I forget which. Do you want anything to eat?"

"Yes, I should like to have some gruel."

"I will make you some," said she. "I have a nice fire here, or I should have, only that I seem to have forgotten to light the kindlings."

While she was bustling around, busy with the gruel, Georgie lay quite still, looking out where there was no roof, at the blue sky, which he could now see, for it had ceased raining.

"Why don't you have the roof cover the whole of your house!" asked Georgie of the old lady.

"The rest of the roof is somewhere around," said she. "I guess the workmen forgot to put it on. Now, here is your nice gruel all ready for you.' "Why, it is cold!" exclaimed the disappointed Georgie, who was quite hungry.

"Sure enough; I forgot to boil it!" said the old lady.

"And I don't see anything in the bowl but water!"

"Dear me! Dear me!" said Mite. I must have forgotten to put any meal in it!"

Georgie now began to cry.

"Don't cry, don't cry, Johnnie," said Mite, "I will boil a chicken for you by and by, if I don't forget it. Here are the doctors coming to see you now, and you must sit up and talk with them."

Pretty soon two doctors came in, and one of them asked Mite if she felt better to-day.

"Yes, I think I do," said she.

"Did you take the medicine I ordered for you ?" asked the other doctor. "I suppose I did, but I don't remember," answered Mite. Then the doctors