·

"Then follow me,' said she, and grasped my arm firmly. I raised my foot-Oh, my son, hear me !-I raised my foot, and kicked her-my sainted mother! How my head reels, as the torrent of memory rushes over me! I kicked my mother-a feeble woman -my mother! May God forgive me for I can never forgive myself. She staggered back a few steps, and leaned against the = wall. She did not look at me. I saw her heart beat against her breast. Oh, heavenly Father,' she cried, forgive him, he knows not what he does!' The gardener just then passed the door, and, seeing my mother pale and almost unable to stand, he stopped; she beckoned him in. Take this boy up stairs, and lock him in his own room,' said she, and turned from me. Looking back, as she was entering her room, she gave me such a look-it will forever follow me-it was a look of agony, mingled with intensest love-it was the last, unutterable pang from a heart that was broken.

"In a moment I found myself a prisoner in my own room. I thought, for a moment, I would fling myself from the open window, and dash my brains out, but I felt afraid to die. I was not penitent. At times my heart was subdued but my stubborn pride rose in an instant, and bade me not to yield.

The pale face of my mother haunted me. I flung myself on the bed and fell asleep. I awoke at midnight, stiffened by the damp night air, and terrified with frightful dreams. I would have sought my mother at that moment, for I trembled with fear, but my door was fast. With the daylight my terrors were dissipated, and became bold in resisting all good impulses. The servant brought my meals, but I did not taste them. I thought the day would never end. Just at twilight I heard a light footstep approach the door. It was my sister, who called me by name.

"What may I tell mother from you?" she asked.

"Nothing," I replied.

"Oh, Alfred, for my sake, for all our sakes, say that you are sorry-let me tell mother that you are sorry. She longs to forgive you.'

"I won't be driven to school against my will,' said I.

"But you will go, if she wishes it, dear Alfred,' said my sister pleadingly.

"No, I won't,' said I, 'and you needn't say a word more about it.'

666

"Oh, brother, you will kill her! you will kill her, and then you can never have a happy moment again.'

"I made no reply to this. My feelings were touched, but I still resisted their kind influence. My sister called me, but I would not answer. I heard her footsteps slowly retreating, and again I flung myself on the bed to pass another wretched and fearful night. O God, how wretched! how fearful I did not know.

"Another footstep, slower and feebler than my sister's disturbed me. A voice called me by name. It was my mother's. 'Alfred, my son, shall I come in? Are you sorry for what you have done?' she asked.

"I cannot tell what influence, operating at that moment, made me speak adverse to my feelings. The gentle voice of my mother, which thrilled through me melted the ice from my obdurate heart, and I longed to throw myself on her neck, but I did not. No, my boy, I did not. But my words gave the lie to my heart, when I said I was not sorry. I heard her withdraw. I heard her groan. I longed to call her back, but I did not.

"I was awakened from an uneasy slumber by hearing my name called loudly, and my sister stood beside me. Get up, Alfred. Oh, don't wait a minute! Get up, and come

with me. Mother is dying!' I thought I was yet dreaming, but I got up mechanically, and followed my sister. On the bed, pale and cold as marble, lay my mother. She had not undressed. She had thrown herself on the bed to rest; arising to go again to me, she was seized with a palpitation of the heart, and borne senseless to her room.

"I cannot tell you my agony as I looked upon her-my remorse tenfold more bitter from the thought that she would never know it. I believed myself to be her murderer. I fell on the bed beside her. I could not weep. My heart burned in my bosom; my brain was all on fire. My sister threw her arms around me, and wept in silence. Suddenly we saw a slight motion of my mother's hand; her eyes unclosed. She had recovered consciousness, but not speech. She looked at me, and moved her lips. I could not understand her words. Mother, mother,' I shrieked, 'say only that you forgive me.' She could not say it with her lips, but her hand pressed mine. She smiled upon me, and lifting her thin white hands,

she clasped my own within them, and cast her eyes upward. I fell on my knees beside her. She moved her lips in prayer, and thus she died. I remained still kneeling beside that dear form, till my gentle sister removed me. She comforted me, for she knew the heavy load of sorrow at my heart -heavier than grief for the loss of a mother, for it was a load of sorrow for sin. The joy of youth had left me forever.

"My son, the suffering such memories awaken must continue as long as life. God is merciful; but remorse for past misdeeds is a canker-worm in the heart, that preys upon it forever."

My father ceased speaking, and buried his face in his hands. I saw and felt the bearing his narrative had upon my own character and conduct. I have never forgotten it. Boys, who spurn a mother's control, who are ashamed to own that they are wrong, who think it manly to resist her authority, or yield to her influence, beware! Lay not up for yourselves bitter memories for your future years.

MISS M. N. ROBINSON,

OF ROCHDALE.

If it be true that remarkable events of providence are fraught with salutary lessons of instruction to those who become acquainted with them; then in proportion to the probability of usefulness, there is propriety in giving publicity to what has transpired. Sunday school teachers are an important class of persons, and the writer deems it a privilege to be associated with them in their great and good work. And if by any means he could encourage, sustain, or stimulate them in their undertakings, he would think his time spent to valuable purpose. In the hope of being, in some humble degree, serviceable to those who are bearing "the burden and heat of the day;" and with the design of perpetuating the memory of one who has been an active and useful fellow-labourer, the following account has been drawn up.

M. N. Robinson was the daughter of Mr. Thos. Robinson, builder and timber merchant, of Rochdale. It was her great privilege to be favoured with pious parents, who watched over her interests, both temporal and spiritual, with that solicitude

which pious parents alone can understand. For surely they only are prepared to form a proper estimate of man's necessities, who, having felt the vanity of all earthly objects, have sought and found rest to their souls in the grace and fellowship of our Lord Jesus Christ. The writer has not been able to ascertain what were the operations of Miss Robinson's mind respecting religion in early life. Suffice it to say, that as years rolled on, the trifles of this world attracted her attention, and pleased for a time. The ordinary affairs of life absorbed and occupied her thoughts. Sunshine and shade alternated, with their varied and salutary lessons, yet there appeared to be no lasting good impression produced on the mind of our young friend. But "He who is wonderful in working, and excellent in counsel," has always means at hand by which to accomplish his designs of mercy.

In the month of May, 1847, a severe stroke was sustained. A heart which had long beaten in prayerful solicitude, ceased its throbbings under the chilling grasp of death. That heart was a mother's. From that time Miss R. seems to have felt the want of a friend; a better Friend than any

of those who are merely mortal. In this state of mind she appears to have remained until the beginning of the year 1849. About this time a person employed as town missionary, under the auspices of Henry Kelsall, Esq. of Rochdale, in conjunction with Mr. Robinson, commenced a Sunday school in the immediate neighbourhood of Mr. R.'s residence. Miss R., who had never been engaged in any Sunday school, was requested to take part in teaching; and having given the subject a becoming degree of consideration, she cheerfully consented to be employed in this arduous but honourable work.

About the time when our dear friend commenced her Sabbath school exertions, the state of her mind with regard to religion was disclosed. It was found that the painful event of a mother's death had not been unblessed. Serious reflection had been awakened; the uncertainty and instability of earthly things had been discovered; there had been produced conviction of the depravity of the heart, and the sinfulness of life in the sight of the God of holiness. Sin was felt to be exceeding sinful. A better righteousness than any which sinful, fallen man can produce, was deemed to be necessary in order to acceptance with God. And in this state of mind her attention was directed to Him who has brought in everlasting righteousness, by magnifying the law and making it honourable, and by giving himself a ransom for us; and with gladness she "fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before her" in the Gospel. She was baptized in West chapel, by the Rev. W. F. Burchell, on the evening of Lord's day, October 28th, 1849.

From this time up to her last earthly Sabbath, she exhibited a steady continuance in well-doing. As far as circumstances would permit, and sometimes when other persons thought such engagements uncalled for, she regularly attended upon the means of grace, either in the school-room near her own dwelling, or in the chapel at the other end of the town. Being aware that piety could not be kept lively and healthful without a proportionate supply of proper nourishment, she evinced a strong desire to "grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." Hence, those sermons, and books, and means of grace which savoured most of Christ, were than a plain, earnest, faithful representamost acceptable. Nothing pleased better tion of Jesus Christ and him crucified.

While the dear departed one was anxious to promote her own spiritual interests, she was not indifferent to the wants of others. The Gospel expands the heart. When it takes possession of a heart naturally kind, it makes that heart more benevolent. Hence the poor were visited, the distressed were relieved, religious tracts and books were distributed, a monthly supply of that admirable publication, "The Appeal," was procured and disseminated. The instruction of the young was a means of good to others, in which she took great pleasure. In short, I have seldom seen any one who has entered more thoroughly and practically into the aggressive principles of the Gospel of the grace of God. And I fear the time is far distant when I shall meet with another of equally cultivated mind, who, emerging from the circles of worldly frivolity, and avowing her faith in the great truths of the everlasting Gospel, will persevere, in spite of many obstacles and annoyances, in all the works of faith and labours of love to which reference has just been made.

But she was destined to finish her course speedily. On April 13th, 1851, it was her turn, as she called it, to be in the school all day. The engagements of the day were fulfilled, as far as the class was concerned, in the usual manner. At a quarter past two in the afternoon, she was speaking to her class with her accustomed seriousness and earnestness. The school was called to silence, people were coming in for public worship, and while the teachers and scholars were singing that beautiful hymn commencing,

"Let children proclaim their Saviour and King," she complained to a fellow-teacher of pain in her head and dizziness, which increased until she had to be taken out of the room; and she soon sunk down into a state of stupor, from which she could not be aroused. Medical aid was procured as speedily as possible. But in spite of all that could be done, she continued in the same state about thirty-seven hours and then expired. Her emancipated spirit quitted its fragile tenement of clay, for that blessed state of which she had been often heard saying during the last two years:

"Oh, when, thou city of my God,
Shall I thy courts ascend;
Where congregations ne'er break up,

And Sabbaths have no end."

Little did any of us think that these strong desires were so soon to be realized.

But more than realized, we trust they are, for Jesus has said to every believer, "Because I live, ye shall live also." Blessed truth, "Absent from the body, present with the Lord." How agreeable must be the surprise to a soul, which being engaged in

divine worship on earth, after a brief interval, is conducted to the scenes and services of the heavenly temple. "Blessed is that servant whom his Lord when he cometh shall find so doing."

THE CLAIMS OF THE BIBLE.-The claims of the Bible to your careful and devout perusal are strong and clear; and they are more so in the present day than ever they were before. The modern press sends forth its millions of books, of all sizes, prices, and characters. Many of these are deadly poisons, and "should not be so much as named among you." Others are the merest trash, or "trifles light as air." There are others whose contents are unobjectionable, but whose mere innocence or charming style should never allow them to gain the ascendency over the heart. Such reading and study seem to have engrossed the mind of the great scholar Salmasius, and he exclaimed on his death-bed, "Alas, I have spent a life in laboriously doing nothing!" He further declared that, were he permitted to live his time over again, he would spend his days with the Epistles of Paul, and the Psalms of David. And that great northern wizard, Sir Walter Scott, who had himself written enough of books to make a decent library, yet when he came to die, and was asked by his son-in-law what book he wished to have read to him, replied, "Why do you ask that question? There is but One Book." Beautiful confession, but only comparatively true; for there are happily great numbers of others, possessing sterling positive merits. We are as far from saying that the Bible only should be read, as the Pope is from saying that it should be popularly read at all. This false compliment to the Scriptures would be doing it the greatest wrong; for there are numberless facilities in our christian literature for the better understanding of their contents. We would, moreover, have you to store your minds with as much useful knowledge as will enable you fully to act out the character of "Christian Citizens;" and would also go a little out of our way to recommend our own Denominational Pennyworth, "THE CHURCH," to your hearty support. But our main object is to urge upon you the especial and paramount claims of Heaven's Own Book. In these days of many books, read your Bible-in these days of alleged or real Papal Aggression, read your Bible-to withstand the contagious mania of Mormonism and its kindred schools, the insidious arts of Priestcraft, both Anglican and Roman-to bid defiance to the Pantheistical influence of Germany, the daring godlessness of France, and the legion-heresies of England and America, read your Bible. Yea, to be rich and strong in the possession of supreme truth, pillars in the temple of God on earth, burning and shin

ing lights in the Sunday-school, and prepared for "shining forth as the sun in the kingdom of your Father" hereafter,

"Read and revere the sacred page; a page Where triumphs immortality; a page Which not the whole creation could produce; Which not the conflagration can destroy:In nature's ruins not one letter lost." Circular Letter of the Montgomeryshire Baptist Association, by the Rev. D. L. Pughe.

OUR DUTY IN THE PRESENT TIMES.-A sense of duty should always keep us calm, while the consciousness of truth on our side should make and keep us bold. And it behoves every christian to "put on the whole armour of God." At the present crisis we have a duty to perform; and there are advantages to be obtained if we embrace the opportunities, and scatter widely the principles we hold and profess. We live in remarkable times, distinguished by the most stirring events; and the civil and religious liberties of unborn generations depend (humanly speaking) upon the manner in which we acquit ourselves at this crisis. If hesitating and pusillanimous, we are lost; but if we discover the bold and indomitable spirit which sustained our nonconformist ancestors, in striving for the religious principles which we now enjoy, we shall be triumphant. In connexion with the spread of Popery in this country, and the bold assumption of ecclesiastical titles and territorial jurisdiction, there is a large and influential party in the Established Church who evince a disposition to neutralize the benevolent exertions of voluntary churches, to curtail their rights, and to bring back on this country all the errors of byegone times. Dear brethren, we are anxious to express our feelings and sentiments upon these topics, that the churches composing this association, at least, might know that the sentiments and doctrines inculcated by the Papacy and the Tractarians or Puseyites (which is but another name for Popery), we reprobate from our hearts. We tremble at their influence; we hold them to be fearfully erroneous, and eternally ruinous; they are fatal to all we hold dear; they tend to the subversion of all those precious privileges and glorious principles which we have been accustomed to cherish as our best inheritance. And should these errors become prevalent-which God forbid !-should they steal into the heart of society, and control the popular mind; should they like a cloud" darken the horizon of our country; from that moment the sun of Great Britain will

set. The gathering of the nations in the "Crystal Palace" will be the last of England's greatness. We may expect our atmosphere to become charged with the elements of the Divine displeasure, and desolating

judgments may follow. "Ichabod" may

then be written on our best institutions, for the glory will have departed from us. Our strength will have become weakness, our wisdom folly; our light will be extinct; and instead of being great, and noble, and free, spiritually free, the first among the nations, we may become a scoffing, a hissing, and a reproach unto all people. May that great and beneficent Being who has hitherto been our guardian and defence, preserve us from such an appalling calamity; deliver us from the curse of Popery; save us from the spiritual despotism of the man of sin; pour into the hearts of our children an unsophisticated love of his pure truth, that our posterity may share in the felicity of his smiles. Circular Letter of the East Kent Baptist Association, by the Rev. F. Wills.

THE POSITION OF BAPTISTS AS A DENOMINATION. Whether our denominational movements be proportionate or not, the doctrine of believers' baptism is on the eve of a wider and nobler development than any it has attained since the apostolic times. Already there are not a few of the foremost men in pædobaptist communities who evince dissatisfaction with their own system, and a kindlier consideration of ours. They stand clear of the argumentation and authorities heretofore deemed decisive. They abandon to Puseyites and to dawdlers the defences held by their forefathers, and are conscious of steady progression towards a point where they must declare for believers' baptism or none. As such men multiply, so will the premonitions of change become distinct and urgent. They are the heralds of the rising age the forerunners of coming events. They clear the way for the many, but are usually so far ahead that they drop into their graves before their followers come up with them. For the present, therefore, we must be content to maintain the post and attitude of an earnestly protesting minority. Our day of triumph is not yet; but our protest

is assuredly growing, both in volume and effect. New churches planted and new converts springing up in all parts of the world, expand and deepen it. And our protest is of that kind which makes itself heard and felt. It is presented in deeds as well as words, and so appeals with equal force to opposite classes. The common people understand us, so do the sacramentalists. Our proceedings make it manifest that we reject sacramental efficacy without compromise and without misgiving. We baptize none but such as we believe to be already christians. Our own children we keep unbaptized till they steadfastly believe, and desire to profess the truth as it is in Jesus. To those who confide in the sacramental efficacy, our conduct in this respect must not only present an adequate expression of our own opinions, but a cool and daring defiance of theirs, which can be hardly less than appalling. We are thought resolutely to place in jeopardy-tremendous jeopardy -the souls of our precious little ones. We cannot be supposed to want parental tenderness; the inference therefore must be, that our convictions are so settled and strong, that we laugh to scorn the anathemas hurled at us by Synods and Councils, by Priests, and Bishops, and Popes, and Fathers. Ours is a crime to be punished by the judges." We are wilful and obstinate heretics. Our children are to be intensely sorrowed over. It would be an act of sweetest charity to inveigle them to the font, and thus rescue them, in spite of us, from the dreadful doom to which our neglect exposes them. Such are the sentiments which our practice awakens, and we are glad of it. It proves that we are in a position to present an adequately clear and pungent protest against sacramental efficacy. Let the protest involved in the ordinance to which we cleave, be supported by a holy life, by charity towards men and single-hearted consecration to God, and we shall put to silence the ignorance of foolish men, and purchase to ourselves a good degree, and great boldness in the faith which is in Christ Jesus.-Circular Letter of the Bristol Association, by the Rev. W. Barnes.

BAPTIST FOREIGN MISSIONS.

BARISAL, BENGAL.

We have been favoured with a letter from Mr. Sale, who, as many of our readers will remember, is labouring at this interesting station. The following is an extract from it:

"I have enclosed a paper which my fellow missionary, Mr. J. C. Page, drew up last year, and to which I have added such matters as were necessary to complete the report up to the present time. From this statement, a pretty correct, certainly not at

all an exaggerated, idea of what is doing in this district, will be gained. The people under our care are numerous and widely scattered; so that a very large part of our labour consists in travelling-the greater part of the year by water-from station to station, and spending a few days at each, in instructing the people, and correcting whatever may be wrong, as far as possible. There is the more necessity for this, as some of our native preachers are very inefficient. Connected with this is preaching to the heathen, for which there is much facility in this district, the cases in which the people do not listen being the excep