that you are entering life, poor and uneducated; would you not regard as a benefactor the man or men who could save you from poverty and ignorance? Nay, more; you must be saved from these if your life is to advance, and your success become an assured fact. Upon your reception of the assistance, sympathy, knowledge, goodwill, property, and association of others, your salvation absolutely depends. Man's assumption of independence is one of the queerest and most irrational foibles of his character. How common it is to hear of that extraordinary character," the self-made man." I wonder if those who use such terms ever think, and feel ready to ask whether their brains are in their boots. Self-made men, indeed! Why, ninety-ninehundredths of them can neither build their own house nor fashion their own clothes. These self-made men are dependencies upon the skill of the builder and tailor after all.

How well I remember a conversation with a "self-made man," that is to say, a man who, to use the world's current phrase, "had succeeded and become rich." He was exceedingly angry because I affirmed the mutual obligation of lawyer and client, tradesman and customer, master and servant. In the warmth of debate he broke out, "You will say that I'm under an obligation to my chimney-sweeper next." I hardly expected so suitable an illustration, nor am I likely to forget the expression of my friend's countenance as I replied, "Well, yes, indeed you are; and certainly if you were to attempt to sweep your own chimney you would find out unmistakably the colour of your obligation." From morning to night we are being saved. Every school in the kingdom worthy the name may be described as a house of salvation from ignorance. Every intelligent schoolmaster may be spoken of as a saviour. Every article we possess, whether for use or luxury, in the houses we inhabit, represents another's intelligence and toil; the food which finds a place on our table, another's preparation. Every train, omnibus, and carriage, is a fashioning for deliverance, salvation cars, saving distance, time, separation, and strength. Imagine the condition of London unsaved at Christmas time.

Neither oxen nor sheep, poultry nor fish, in the markets, no turkeys or geese on the stalls, no enterprising bakers saving the five-million-peopled city from bread famine, no grocers with provision for the annual plum-pudding festival. Given such conditions, and what words or pen could describe the cry of the inhabitants of the metropolis: "What must we do to be saved?" Why, sirs, the wide world has anticipated, and is constantly answering that cry. "A theological phrase," indeed? No, no; it is the heart-beat of the nation, the pulse of normal health and sound condition. As a nation we are always needing to be saved from hunger and indolence; from immorality and blasphemy; from drunkenness and atheism; from darkness and ignorance-always needing, through the intervention and help of others, to be brought into the possession of plenty and industry, into intelligence and enterprize; into the fear and love of God; into comfort and economy; into corn-stacks and consols; into railways and swift ships; into electric force and brilliance and into the loving harmony of English homes. Thrice welcome the great, grand, universal question, "What must I do to be saved?" Expressed in terror by the Philippian jailer, its utterance stands for the expression of the world's abiding necessity. "Saved," yes, “saved," must be the rallying word until every unjust yoke is broken, and the whole world is under the sway of The Great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ. The cry shall never cease until the curse and blight of sin is removed; until men are redeemed from cruelty, injustice, and oppression; until each form of tyranny and every corrupt government is overthrown : yea, until His coming whose right it is to reign. And in that day it shall be said, "Lo, this is our God, we have waited for Him; He will save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for Him; we will rejoice and be glad in His salvation" (Isa. xxi. 9).

Off the Main Line.-" Here comes our train!" said one of a party of friends who were waiting the arrival of the express

on the platform of the Matlock Bath railway station. The engine was seen emerging from the mouth of the tunnel near by, and certainly the inference named seemed to be approaching. But, no! a few seconds sufficed to show that the snorting and labouring engine was doing its best to bring on the heavilyladen mineral and luggage trucks that were now slowly defiling before us. The train stopped, and its ponderous trucks began to push back until the whole was shunted in the long siding which lay to our right. Five minutes, perhaps, had elapsed, and again clouds of steam announced another arrival, and this time, sure enough, the express had come with its adapted carriages and quickened speed. How well I remember the scene, and the life-lesson it suggested. The goods train shunted to make room for the train that carried the living freight. How is it, brethren? what are you weighted with? Materials or men, which? Be assured of this, that anything less real than the commerce and transit of living souls will be noticed by the Lord of the Line; if our carrying power is changed from men to material, we will be shunted to make room for express men who carry living freights.

How we became Shunted.-Only a few months since a shunting was effected in the following very respectable manner. A brother minister was unfortunate enough to have £500 given as a nest-egg for a new chapel. What a splendid offer! how generous! Everybody must give now; all must help. Architects' designs followed personal subscriptions, and when the foundation-stone was laid by Timothy Toogood, Esq., my dear sir, what a day it was! Only think of it! Upon the amateur mason's block of stone the munificent sum of £250 was given, besides bags, cards, and purses, which, added together, swelled the total amount to £1,452. Then everybody shouted the doxology. Next came the materials-bricks, stone facings, Gothic windows, stained glass, stately pillars, the relationship to the "cruciform character," which marked the interior, the aesthetic pulpit and communion-table, the decorated

ceiling-in short, a whole luggage-train of materials put into the best possible fashion, and into the most church shape. Well, the elegant building was opened by the eloquent and distinguished professor who had been persuaded to put the finishing touch to the opening services by preaching a sermon of such intellectual and artistic skill that one old lady said it was "splendiferous"; a perfect galaxy of metaphorical transfigurements, which so illuminated the distinguished congregation that the individual and united exclamation "Wonderful!" alone prevented an explosion. Well, since the new church was opened, all the sinners' hearts appear to have been closed. We have had numberless admirations, but no conversions; carpeted aisles, but very bare prayer-meetings; quarterly rentals, but few inquirers; artistic singing and anthems by the choir, but no weeping over sin in the pews; noisy voluntaries damaging the effect of the minister's appeals at the close of the services, but scarcely a volunteer either for membership or mission-field; and yet, withal, we actually believe that we are successful and very respectable. We were very much annoyed to hear old Tom Honest say that as "Sure as a gun we were shunted " -a very fine luggage train backed down the siding in order to make room for the Primitive Methodist Express.

Billy Bray and the Quaker. The eccentric Cornish preacher was on one occasion met by a member of the Society of Friends. "Mr. Bray," said the kind-hearted Quaker, “I have often observed thy unselfish life, and feel much interested in thee, and I believe the Lord would have me help thee, so if thou wilt call at my house I have a suit of clothes, to which thou art very welcome if they will fit thee." "Thank'ee," said Billy, “I will call ; thee need have no doubt that the clothes will fit me. If the Lord told thee that they were for me they're sure to fit, for He knows my size exactly." Billy was a constant visitor amongst the sick and dying. On one occasion he was sitting by the bedside of a Christian brother who had always been very reticent and afraid to confess joyously his

faith in Christ. Now, however, he was filled with gladness, Turning to Billy, whose beaming face and sunny words had done much to produce this joy, he said, "Oh, Mr. Bray, I'm so happy that if I had the power I'd shout Glory." "Ha, mon," said Billy, "what a pity it was thee didn't shout Glory when thee had'st the power."

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A Candid Confession.-We were sitting under the shade of an oak-tree comparing notes and conferring with one another as to the best methods of service, specially in reference to effective preaching. "I always write my sermons," said my friend, “and then carefully revise them, so that if anything is written calculated to offend any of my hearers, I may at once erase it." This was said by a young clergyman, who was evidently anxious to make his mark as a preacher. Desirous to know that I heard correctly, I replied, "Do you mean that forcible statements, either of your own writing or from Scripture, concerning sin and the terrors of the judgment to come, are either toned down or avoided? " Yes," was the reply, "if I think they will offend anyone I do so." I fear this candid testimony indicates the reason why so many ministers are powerless amongst their fellows. "The fear of man bringeth a snare indeed." To have the good word of the majority, to be popular, to keep the church or chapel full, the denunciations against sin are withheld, the real condition of the hearers, either children of God or children of wrath, is glossed over; the necessity which exists for faith in the blood of atonement shed by our Lord passed by. By such means thousands of our fellow-men are respectably led to the perdition of hell by unfaithful and hireling shepherds-men who, as the Word of God declares, are "blind leaders of the blind." Surely the blood of souls will be required at the hands of these men.

Whitsuntide.-Anniversary of Pentecost, birthday of the Coronation of our Lord Jesus Christ. Memorial of the presen