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Üdayside Notes.


Watchman, what of the night? Watchman, what of the night -

Isa. xxi. 11. 08, thou seer of Israel! as the door of 1870 for eter classes, and we look out upon the untrodden space before us, we respoad to the . It appears to us that the night is far spent, that the world is zorang sisi in wickedness, and that the great and terrible One, who setteth to be circle of the heavens, looking down upon all, cannot long stay His hanta its destruction, preparatory to which He is fast ga bering bome His acie to Himself.

But have you not taken up the pen in a censis i? Why the world is growing old in wickedness, when the general idea is that is highly religious, and many declare that it will soon becsmg contertai? O thou mistaken watchmen, that blow not the trumpet of the Lori Ls the language of Dante, “Ye go forth and preach in postres s e world;" and in the language of a far greater: "The peoplets perrung lies in my name. I sent them not, neither have I o s a , neither spake I unto them: they prophecy the deceit of their own isar."

Does the world grow better? Has the cherished marca of inn brought about the promised universal brotherbood? O has the sence of International Exhibitions bound the nations of the earth tgu let, as it was thought they would ? Let the disastrots wars of 167'), and their attendant horrors, answer the question.

Two hundred thousand of our fellow creatures have fallen by the swad, and their gory bodies lie a few feet only under the suriasses of the w her earth. Oh! does the world grow better? Let the widows wall and the fatherless children, who are as grasshoppers in the land, respond to the inquiry. There is something deeply humiliating in the facts that surround us; and, in their contemplation, the soul of the Christian weeps in secret places because of the abounding wickedness of the world, and the painful lessons the past eventful year has taught us.

But some will say, You are taking only one aspect of the world. Look at the upper strata of society, where surely all is excellent. Ah, feathered and flounced refinement! thy secrets lurk in the dark; and that under thy fine and fair show there lies a heart of deceit, let the outrageous " baby farms” of the present day bear witness. Does the world grow better? But let us'turn from it. in do paid te

Oh! sickening world, we are heartily tired oft for the living family of God, the salt of the earth, outrefaction; but where are the members of i Scattered, how few are the kindred spirits who lo Jesns! There may be a few favoured spots where around the faithful preaching of the red, but mostly rows alone on the house top.” ord I thinint H

nes-many in one's own circle dur past year baye as one sorts the numbers of thiM for binding th

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