soon opened. That institution is the Spring Hill College, in the neighborhood of Birmingham, now one of the important institutions of Europe. All this can be traced back to the influence of Mr. Whitefield. What a succession of faithful ministers who all trace back to Mr. Whitefield: Winter, Jay,, East, Williams, all in the regular succession! Apostolic men, with apostolic call, apostolic spirit, and apostolic success.

Whitefield and the Reporter.

Whitefield just previous to his last voyage to America preached a farewell sermon, in London, from John x, 27, 28, entitled The Good Shepherd, to a large and weeping audience. This sermon was taken down in short-hand by a reporter, and then printed. Whitefield having obtained a copy of it just before he sailed was exceedingly disappointed and grieved at its publication, and complained of its incorrectness. He said, "This morning came a surreptitious copy of my Tabernacle farewell sermon, as the short-hand writer professes, exactly as I spoke it; but he is mistaken. It is not as I delivered it. In some places it makes me speak false concord, and even nonsense. The whole is so injudiciously paraphrased, and so wretchedly unconnected, that I owe no thanks to the misguided, though it may be wellmeant, zeal of the writer and publisher be they whom they will. But such conduct is an unavoid

able tax upon popularity." It was a young man among the crowd of listeners who had reported the sermon of Whitefield, and had designed to do him no injustice, as he was a great admirer of Whitefield's eloquence. When listening to this last sermon this question passed through his mind, "Which would I rather be, Garrick or Whitefield?" The young man was then only seventeen years of age. He was early converted to God, and became an able minister of the New Testament. His biographer says, "In 1769 he heard many discourses from the lips of the immortal Whitefield, particularly the last two that he preached in London, and was struck and affected by the eloquence of his appeals. This introduced him to the preaching of the Methodists, which appears to have been greatly blessed in augmenting the current of his religious affections."

How would the great soul of Whitefield have rejoiced had he known the talents and future destiny of the young man who reported his sermon ! That young man became one of the fathers and founders of the London Missionary Society, and was for years its able secretary; he was also founder of the London Religious Tract Society, editor of the London Evangelical Magazine, and author of the "Village Sermons," which have been circulated so widely in Europe and America, and which have accomplished so vast an amount of good. The name of this noted man was George Burder, father of Rev. H. F. Burder, also distinguished as an author and a preacher.

Whitefield and the Diamond Ring.

"Near the close of his life Mr. Whitefield was the guest of a general at Providence, Rhode Island. His wife and three daughters, as well as himself, were serious, but not decidedly religious. It was Whitefield's usual custom when stopping with a family to converse with each member on the subject of experimental religion. But in this instance he had departed from it. The last night that he was to spend in the house came, and he retired to bed, but not to sleep. Something came to him in the night saying, 'O man of God! if these people perish their blood shall be upon thy head.' He listened, but the flesh said, 'Do not speak to these people; they are so good and kind that you cannot say a harsh thing to them.' He rose and prayed. The sweat ran down his brow like rain. He was in fear and anxiety. At last a happy thought struck him. He took his diamond ring from his finger and wrote upon one of the panes of glass in the window, 'One thing thou lackest.' In the morning he went on his way. After he was gone the general, who had great veneration for Whitefield, went into his room, and the first thing that arrested his attention was the sentence on the window-pane, 'One thing thou lackest.' This was just the case with the general. He was amiable and courteous, but he lacked the principal thing. It was a word in season. It was like a nail fastened in a sure place by the Master of

assemblies. The Spirit of God blessed it to his soul and to the salvation of his house.

"A granddaughter has in her possession a relic she prizes very highly. It is the pane of glass upon which Whitefield wrote with his diamond ring the admonitory words, One thing thou lackest."-Wesleyan Magazine.

Whitefield's Old Chair.

How much we think of an old chair! one that has belonged to our ancestors! how it is transmitted from father to son, from that son to the next generation! How much we think of the chair that Washington or Wesley once occupied! In the county that gave Whitefield birth is still preserved a chair in which he sat. To appreciate the value that is attached to the relic, read the following lines that are upon

it:

"If love of souls should e'er be wanting here
Remember me, for I am Whitefield's chair.
I bore his weight, was witness to his fears,
His earnest prayers, his interesting tears;
His holy soul was fired with love divine;
If thine be such, sit down and call me thine."

Whitefield and the Dying Boy.

Mr. Whitefield preached in Boston to crowds of admiring hearers. But one of his most effective sermons, which was preached at Webb's Chapel,

was occasioned by the affecting remark of a dying boy who had heard him the day before. The boy had been taken sick immediately after the sermon, and had said, "I want to go to Mr. Whitefield's God," and then expired. This produced a profound impression upon Whitefield, and touched the secret place of his thunder and his tears. He says, "It encouraged me to speak to little ones; but O! how were the old people affected when I said, 'Little children, if your parents will not come to Christ, do you come and go to heaven without them !" After such a thrilling appeal, it is no matter of astonishment that "there were but few dry eyes." Few could have done this except a Whitefield! He well understood how to touch the tenderest chords that vibrate in a human bosom.

Striking Difference.

In the neighborhood of Boston there was a minister who claimed Whitefield as his spiritual father, who thus related his singular experience: "I went to hear Mr. Whitefield merely to pick a hole in his coat, (to find fault with him;) but God picked a hole in my heart, and afterward healed it by the blood of sprinkling."

Whitefield's Epitaph.

Returning home to London on one occasion, Whitefield learned that a clergyman had, during his absence, been making an attack upon his char