SUNDAY SCHOOLS AND MODERN ENGLAND. 5 word, the Founder and Father of the Sunday School System. Julia Wedgewood says, "the true founder of Wesleyanism is Mrs. Wesley," i.e., John Wesley's mother. Bishop Warburton affirmed that "William Law," author of "the Serious Call," begot Methodism, and Count Zinzendorf "rocked the cradle;" and there is some truth in these statements; but the real truth is that Wesleyanism owes its power, as a world-embracing evangelical system, to John Wesley himself. As George Stephenson was not the first to conceive the possibility of applying steam to locomotion, nor the first to attempt it, but was really the founder of the Great Railway_ Movement by the energy, persistence, and success of his efforts, so Robert Raikes was not the first to conceive the notion of working amongst the young, but he is the philanthropist to whom we owe, more than to any other, the unique institution whose Centenary we celebrate this year. Who is the real author of that "escape from pain" provided by our modern medicine? Long or Wells, Jackson or Morton ? Doubtless Long was the first to use an anæsthetic in surgery, but it was Morton who answered to Sydney Smith's definition of an inventor, "He is not the inventor who first says the thing; but he who says it so long, loudly, and clearly, that he compels mankind to hear him."* That Robert Raikes, and no one else, did for Sunday Schools. The fact is, the Sunday School idea was, as the French say, "in the air;" it was a part of the spirit of the time; the unquestionable offspring of that vast religious, philanthropic and EVANGELICAL REVIVAL Which dates from the middle of the last century, and which brought into view such an eloquent and potent preacher as Whitfield; so sweet and spiritual a singer as Charles Wesley; so grand an evangelist and organizer as John Wesley; so practical and self-denying a philanthropist as John Howard, the prisoner's friend; so cultured and sympathetic a writer as Hannah More, the friend of England's poor. It was the same baptism of intense human pity and love as gave us hospitals for the sick, endowed charities, sent out missionaries to the heathen, supported Wilberforce and Clarkson in their war against slavery, broke up the stagnation in politics, and was, in a word, the origin of the glorious England of this hour. The birth time of Sunday Schools was conspicuous in many repects. The tone of society was beginning to change. Pitt, "the great commoner," the political chieftain of the day, was remarkable for his transparent honesty and his persistent appeal to moral principles; and by his character, as well as by his abilities, he raised the standard of political honour, making it apparent that enthusiasm, and self-sacrifice, and purity, have their place in politics. And whilst he broke the spell of political corruption, the king, George III., was improving the morals of fashionable life, and Garrick was raising the character of popular amusements.† Indeed, the tide of moral and philanthropic and spiritual progress, having ebbed to a degree unutterably mournful, was *Cf. Nineteenth Century, Dec. 1879, p. 429. + Cf. Lecky, Eighteenth Century, Vol. II., p. 516, et seq. now fairly rising; and rising in every part of the national life. For the life of a nation is one. Its religion, its politics, and even its amusements, cannot be sundered. They are one as heart and lungs and limbs and eyes and feet are one: and as you cannot grow men in detached parts, so you cannot permanently raise a nation in segments. The Sunday School movement was, therefore, a portion of a vast and wide-spread onward movement of the life of the whole people. But the deepest and strongest impulse of the whole movement was evangelic, and although Wesley and Whitfield are far from being the the only prophets of the era, yet they are assuredly the most typical; and of all the children of the hour, no one has finer or fuller marks of its parentage than the Sunday School. It is the legitimate offspring of that "love of God, and of the souls of men for God's sake," which is at once the heart of Christianity and the source of the new life of the eighteenth century. Men's hearts were touched by a new impulse, energized by a new enthusiasm, and looked through loving eyes upon the misery and wretchedness which everywhere surrounded them. Christ's command, "Go and preach my gospel to every creature," was heard as if freshly uttered by the exalted and powerful King of men Himself. His tender request, "Feed my lambs,” came with winning pathos to their susceptible spirits, and filled them with a new pity. The love of humanity became a fixed passion. Men were brought nearer to Christ, the source of all goodness, the fount of all real enthusiasm and self-sacrifice, the inspiration to all progress, and they went forth with a new impulse, and that impulse had, as part of its new evangel, "salvation for the children of England." JOHN CLIFFORD. New Year's Hymn for 1880. TUNE-"St. Gertrude"-(Bristol). On this New Year's morning We our voices raise; Join us, happy Christians, May our faith be growing As the spring-time flowers; As the summer hours. Edinburgh. We should all remember, Let us, then, go forward From this New Year's day, NELLIE JOHNSTONE. A Deadly Trial. BY E. J. AXTON. THREE young men, well-dressed, were standing before the bar in one of the brilliantly-fitted taverns of the City. They were clerks in the firm of Weatherby & Co., shipping agents, and had just left the office for lunch. "By the bye," says one, during a lull in the banter which has been passing between them for some little time, "I've been thinking about Johnson getting the second job. Now I don't want you to think me vain or jealous, but, I do think it's a shame on the gov'nor's part. He ought to have given it me—I'm the oldest here. Don't you think so, 'Arry?" "Well," returned the one appealed to, "I don't know exactly who ought to have had it. But I know this, Johnson has no right there, and ought to be kicked out. What do you say, Will?" "Well," answered Will Adams, whose appearance, unlike that of the others, at once invited respect, "it doesn't seem altogether the thing, I admit. He has been with Weatherby a shorter time than any of us, and one would suppose seniority gave priority. But the governor seems to think otherwise, and he's a right to do as he likes. Certainly, Johnson is smart, and up to his work. He isn't what he was." "No, you're right-he's not the chap he was," scoffed the first speaker. "One time he was sociable and didn't object to harmless fun. Now he won't even take a glass of beer with us, much less join in a game of billiards. I don't object to people being religious if they don't go and make utter fools of themselves. Why, I heard the other day that he actually goes preaching in the parks on Sundays. What's he want preaching? It's a disgrace on the office." "Ha, ha!" laughed Will Adams, "you seem to take it to heart. For my part, I don't see any disgrace in that. Why, I go preachingthat is lecturing, though not in the parks. I hope you don't think I'm a disgrace?" "Well, no, Will," replied Houghton, deferentially-Will's powers of reasoning were a little to much for him to defy them recklessly; he had more than once been argued "off his head," as someone expressed it, by them-"but then you, you see, take up a sensible subject. You are like Weatherby, half a Freethinker. You argue about things you know; but he goes and talks about heaven and angels, and fire and brimstone, as if he'd been to see such impossible things. If he's like some I've heard, I'd bet he'd tell you what they're like." And he laughed incontinently at his prodigious wit. "Upon my word, though," said Will, his handsome face wearing a very serious expression," I begin to think after all that this Christianity is not all moonshine. It's a moral certainty, there is power in it somewhere, and —” "Yes," broke in Harry, "there's power in it to change Fred Johnson from a jolly, merry, sociable chum into a miserable, long-faced, moping parson. Why, it's a misery to be where he is now. A feller can't use a word his mother smacked him for without getting a black look or a lecture. And then, when he might take a spell he goes working on like a nigger. Bah! He ought to be shot !" "But," laughed Adams, "you can't blame a man for going into anything with all his might, instead of half-doing it, can you?" "No, but that's just what I think is the case with him. He's half doing it, and, between you and me and the post, I believe he's been crawling round Weatherby somehow." "Then he ought to be black-balled," said Harry, savagely, "And I should be one of the first to black-ball him," said Will, a dangerous light in his eyes, "if that proved to be the case. Anyhow, time will show what he is. But I'm off"-looking at the clock and going to the door. "Coming?" "Half-a-minute," replied Houghton, who, as Adams, always punctual as the clock itself, disappeared, called for two more halves of bitter beer. After this he and Harry left the tavern, to arrive at the office ten minutes late, as usual. When the members of a party, as, for instance, in politics, meet together and exchange ideas, they invariably part in a much hotter frame of mind than ever. So it was with these. All bore Johnson a grudge for robbing them of his, at one time, agreeable society; for becoming religious; and for having crept up above them into the position of second clerk. But especially was this the case with Houghton. His was a vindictive spirit naturally, and when, added to this, we take into consideration the fact that some weeks previously— before his conversion-Johnson had given Houghton a sound thrashing, the quarrel having sprung from a drunken brawl, it must not awaken surprise if the feelings with which the latter regarded the other were vengeful. And these feelings were none the less deadly because he concealed them from all others—almost himself as well. Nor was he sufficiently manly to crush them, instead of allowing them to grow day by day. This being so with Johnson's fellow-clerks, that young man had a very miserable afternoon on this particular day. Houghton led off with the first shot of chaff, and this example was quickly followed by the others, until Fred's exciteable nature could no longer endure it without retorting. This, of course, made matters worse. Still, by a great effort, Fred kept his temper down, and this, strange to say, caused that of his assailant to rise. It pleased him to see his cutting jibes enrage his victim, but when the latter assumed a quiet, confident tone, he became savage. "I suppose," he said, at last, at a loss for something that would go home, "you couldn't do anything wrong now-oh no! of course not, and, consequently, if you were to see others doing wrong you couldn't bear it-you'd have 'em punished, wouldn't you ?” Fred did not reply. "Suppose, now," pursued Houghton, encouraged by the half-smile on Will's face, "I were to appropriate something of the governor's. Wouldn't you feel it your duty, as a good young man, to tell him of so naughty a thing? Come-wouldn't you?" A DEADLY TRIAL. 9 "Decidedly-it would only be right," answered Fred, thoughtlessly and hotly, little guessing that the other was laying, with consummate cunning, a trap for him, and less, that he had so easily fallen into one. At this answer Houghton turned with something like triumph to the others. "You hear what he says? He'll round on us if we are not careful" Before any more could be said Mr. Watson, the chief clerk and manager, entered-a fact which meant that work was henceforth to be the first object in the office, at least during his presence. That evening Fred hurried over to Brixton, where dwelt a tender heart that beat fast at the thought of his coming. As these two strolled through one of the bye lanes in that sweet suburb, Fred told Minnie of his good fortune, and at once began, after the manner of hopeful youth, building beautiful castles in the air. "And it's through you, dearest, that I have obtained this splendid chance," he said, exultingly. "If God had never brought you to me I should never have been a Christian, and so, certainly, should never have been advanced. Now I can feel at peace and go to work like a man. I felt before as if tied down-nothing seemed certain. I might have got discharged at a moment's notice, seeing what sort of master I have-though, happily, he hasn't, of late, shown such tantrums as I can remember. Still, he might have broken out at any moment-and then, farewell to that bright dream which now, thank God, bids fairest to be realized. Yes, dearest, that best of days shall not now be long in coming-that day when you and I shall be one." 66 But, dear," returned Minnie, looking up into his face with loving reproof," you must not make too sure. God may have some heavy trial in store for you yet, bright as things seem now.' "Then He will give me strength to bear it." Though Fred spoke thus wisely he did not fully realize what he said. Perhaps this was because he believed that no trial was in store for him. Hope was too strong in his heart to allow any uncomfortable misgivings there. Nevertheless, there was a trial before him-one that would test his Christianity to the utmost. He little thought, as he strolled along, full of brilliant schemings for the days to come, that at that very moment the storm was gathering. A close observer might the next morning have seen a peculiar smile on Houghton's features when he entered the office. During the forenoon, too, it might have been noted that he gave utterance to several peculiar phrases about "being once more free,"-" getting rid of the incubus," and such like. At the time Fred took no notice of these things, but afterwards they came before his mind with all their abominable meaning. At eleven o'clock to the minute Mr. Watson took his place. As he did he said, gazing hard at Fred, "Mr. Johnson, Mr. Weatherby desires your presence in his office." Very good, sir," and Fred rose to go. As he passed Houghton's stool, that worthy whispered, "Don't round on us yet, Johnson. We haven't had the luck to find any bank-notes." For a second Fred stared at his tormentor like a statue. The words, |