world, but, for the conquering Prophet, substituted a woman.

And were these all? Were Armenian merchants and Portuguese Padris the only representatives of the christian religion in Burmah? Oh, "how unsearchable are His judgments, and His ways past finding out!" Not far from the mouth of that same Irrawaddy, whose crystal tide swept down the white sands of the golden city, sat the first American missionary, pointing dumbly to the different objects in his room, and writing down their names as indicated in the strange accents of the teacher by his side. And while, with his heroic wife, his longing heart often turned toward the place where, years afterward, one received "in his body the marks of the Lord Jesus" to wear till death, and the other gathered up the seeds of martyrdom, it was well for their peace, for their faith perhaps, that they could not divine the scene passing there at that moment. It would have appeared to them a golden opportunity lost for ever. Perhaps the reader will think it

was.

But there was one man at Ava calling himself a Protestant. A large-framed man, with coarse, strongly-marked features, and ruddy complexion, though wearing the Burman dress, answered to an English name. It was reported that for some crime, which rumour variously represented, though she never wiped it from blood-guiltiness, this man had escaped from the English navy, and taken shelter under a heathen government, adopting, with the dress, the manners, customs, and, as far as in his power, the character of the people. He had not troubled himself about religion, and, in a time of such general laxness of opinion, he had not, of course, been troubled. This man, with probably some effort to recall his nother's teachings, and now and then rompted by the Spanish merchant at his de, to whom we are indebted for the story, last succeeded in repeating the ten comandments! And that was all. The reEsentatives of the different religions left t royal presence, and not the faintest Wisper of the gospel of Christ had fallen othe ear of the enquiring monarch.

he king hastily retired to the inner pace alone; while ministers of state, and gant court favourites, gathered here and the in little knots, to discuss the wonders of t day. Subtle metaphysicians enlarged up the spiritual doctrines of the Parsee;

gay, shewy young men compared sneeringly the pomp of any Moorman festival, with the gorgeous splendours of a Boodhistic cremation of priests; the court wit perpetrated an epigram on woman-worship;A while sober politicians attempted to weigh.. the effect of the whole proceeding upon the prosperity of the country. It was evident to all that the monarch was dis appointed, chagrined; but none but the Almighty saw, or could guess, the workings of his dark, though powerful mind. At length, after three days, he came forth in great state, and proclaimed the Boodhistic faith to be the most elevated, the purest in the world, and the only one worthy the attention of Burmans. The shouts that rose beyond the magic circle of the king's personal attendants were almost deafening; and scarcely a voice in the golden city but joined in the general cry, ascribing half the attributes of Deity to the mighty brother of Alompra. But soon the cry died away in consternation; for the king had yet other communications to make, and edicts to issue. As Boodhism was a pure religion, he determined it should be observed in its purity. All the naht tables were ordered to be torn down; and naht offerings and naht worship forbidden, on penalty of imprisonment and final death. Kyoungs erected within the limits of the town were dismantled; and the priests stripped of their rich robes, and driven back to the wilderness. Then ensued a scene of confusion. Many priests, especially those of high family, resisted, and were thrown into prison. Many concealed their sacred garments under the plaided cloth of a layman, wound a turban around their shaven crowns, and fled to Prome, to Rangoon, and even across a section of the Bay to Martaban, Kyaikamee, or Bike, being everywhere protected by the trembling, sympathizing people. One of these fugitives actually obtained a shelter for the night, and a protection for his effects, in the house of the American missionary at Rangoon; who heard of the persecution only as the cruel and causeless act of a despotic monarch, and never dreamed that it could be the work of a mind apparently ripe for the reception of the gospel.

Gradually the king relaxed in the energy of his measures, and affairs began very slowly to resume their former position. But before much had been accomplished, he died, and left the throne to his grandson,

who promptly restored the old order of things, with no scruples respecting undue pomp and glitter. And the result, under him and his successors, is well known to the christian world.

"Oh, if you could only, only have been there!" was the exclamation of the listener to this tale. "Even a few words might have been sufficient."

The narrator answered with a quiet, but expressive smile.

"If you could only have known."

"I felt as you do when Lanciego first told me the circumstance, when we were chained together in the death prison at Ava; but God cares for the interests of his kingdom far better than the wisest and best of us know how to care. The religion of our Saviour, propagated by despotism, would be a curse, and not a blessing to a nation. And even the favouring smile of royalty is a thing I have long since ceased to pray for. All we want of any government is bare toleration-that is, to be let alone. It is contrary to the very spirit of christianity to begin with those in power, and work downward; and when it does so begin, the vital spark is sure to escape in the process. Christ, our pattern, began low. He did not turn away from Nicodemus, or the Roman centurion, or the nobleman; but he made no special effort for the benefit of those classes, with the view of gaining, through them, greater influence over the lower orders. Missionaries, if they would be successful, must have more faith in God, and work in his own appointed way, preaching the gospel to the poor. It is painful to think of the pitiable old king, groping so earnestly, in his darkness; but the Saviour has the good of Burmah infinitely nearer his heart than we have, and he was watching when my poor 'eyes were holden.' I thank Him for his care, and I stand ready to do his work, however lowly, and wait his time, however long."

MR. SWANTON'S GOLD WATCH.

"Are you a judge of watches, brother - Barker ?" asked Mr. Swanton of his pastor, a few mornings since, as the latter dropped into the counting-room of his deacon.

"I am no judge of the article, brother. I never owned but one, and that is an oldfashioned silver watch, given me by my father, when I taught my first school class. Have you been purchasing recently?"

"Not exactly purchasing, but a little bit of good luck has made me the possessor of an extra article. Just look at it, brother Barker." And Mr. Swanton drew from his pocket a massive gold watch, with an exquisitely wrought chain and seal, passing it over to his pastor with an extremely satisfied air.

Mr. Barker examined the watch, admired the chaste beauty of its style, the niceness of its work, and, returning it to Mr. Swanton, enquired the price.

"Well, it came cheap, very cheap to me. I think I will tell you its history, brother Barker, although I would not like to have it get abroad.

"About six months ago, young Bent, the head clerk in Lampson and Hill's, came to me to borrow money. It seems Bent has nothing but his salary to support his mother and a deaf and dumb brother, and, by some foolish oversight, he has miscalculated his means, so that he fell short about ten pounds last year.

"You know justice to my family required that Bent should give me some security, if I lent him this sum; and, when I told him of this fact, he said he could only pledge his word and honour-not very current among business-men. I told him he had better try elsewhere, and he left the office, but came back next day, telling me, if I would not take his word, he would pawn a valuable watch, with the privilege of redeeming it in six months.

"I lent the money, and yesterday the time of redemption expired. Bent came with the old story of ill-luck, sickness, &c., which is always the excuse for shiftlessness, but I thought decision on my part might teach the young spendthrift a salutary lesson. I took the watch to a jeweller this morning, who says it is worth at least twenty pounds. Quite a piece of good luck, eh, brother Barker ?"

"Why, I cannot say that I should regard it just so, brother. You will of course pay him the fair value of the watch."

"Cannot afford to pay that price for a watch, brother Barker; and, moreover, when I lent him the money, it was expressly understood that he forfeited the watch, if he did not pay the loan within six months.'

"Still, if circumstances have been against the young man, so that he could not redeem his watch in the specified time, it seems to me that a man of your pro

perty could afford to extend the time, or give him a fair compensation for the watch."

"Well, brother Barker, I see plainly that ministers know nothing about business. Mind your sermons, and I'll take care of money matters."

The pastor looked troubled, but, knowing his deacon's ideas of right too well, particularly when his own property was involved, to pursue the subject further, he asked him if he knew anything of Bent's personal history.

"Only what I have related," replied the Deacon. "Do you know anything of them ?"

"Not much; the family are not very communicative. I have called to see them Occasionally, and the little I have learned of their history has given me more than ordinary interest in their affairs. Young Bent's father was an officer in our navy, and had a fine salary, but an expensive family; and at the time of his sudden death, they found themselves entirely dependent upon the exertions of the oldest son, then a student at the University. He left his studies at once, and entered the employ of Lampson and Hill, where he has earned the reputation that honesty, morality, and steady application win for a young man.

"I believe every member of the family struggles bravely with the reverse of fortune which has so materially affected their social position. The only daughter, a fair, delicate girl of sixteen years, has obtained the situation of governess, but owing to her youth and want of experience, her salary is very small. The youngest son is deaf and dumb, and the older brother is trying to educate him; this, with the drafts from his salary which his mother's long illness has occasioned, I presume accounts for the pawning of his watch. I hope you will call and see them, deacon, and perhaps you will change your mind about the justice of retaining the watch."

"I must say, brother Barker, that your history has thrown a different colouring over the whole affair, and interested me so deeply, that I will call and see how matters stand with the family."

The pastor warmly grasped the deacon's hand, and leaving him to his own reflections, turned his steps homeward. Late in the afternoon, while bending over an unfinished sermon, his heart was gladdened

by the reception of a note from deacon Swanton, which ran thus:

"Dear Sir, I have called on the Bent family, and learning how heroically they struggle with the most disheartening poverty, I have advanced fifteen pounds more on the watch, and given the young man another year to redeem it in. 1 trust my own selfish interests will never again blind me to another's distress. Yours, &c., R. SWANTON."

If there were more deacons willing to take advice, and more monied men ready to lend a helping hand, would there not be a larger number of light and hopeful hearts in this world of ours?

WHAT ONE CHRISTIAN MAY DO.

A minister and his friends at the close of the year, some years since, were reviewing their progress for the past twelve months. The report was not particularly unfavourable, the church consisted of about two hundred members, and twenty had been added during the year. But the minister observed to them, that he felt there was great cause for humiliation and sorrow; that if every member had but been alive to the spiritual interests of others, and each had made it his especial aim to bring one sinner into the fold of Christ, how easily their The number might have been doubled. people sympathized deeply with the sentiments of their pastor, and entered into a solemn covenant before God, that they would individually seek, in the forthcoming year, to bring one sinner to the Saviour.

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Among those that felt most intensely on that occasion, was a poor servant girl, whose name was Mary. She lived in a worldly family, where all but herself were strangers to true religion. Her mistress heard of the engagement into which they had entered, and in a jesting strain began to talk with Mary about it. They tell me, Mary, that you have pledged yourself to convert a sinner this year." "No, mistress," Mary replied, "I cannot convert sinners; God only can do that." "Well, but," said she, "you have been making some sort of agreement at the meeting." Mary told her that they had all resolved to try what each could do in seeking the salvation of some particular individual during the year. "And pray, Mary, whom have you fixed upon? I should like to know who it is that you have resolved to interest your

-self about in this way." The girl burst into tears, and said, "I hope, mistress, you will not be offended; but if I must say,you are the person I have fixed upon. You are a kind mistress to me, I have nothing to complain of, but I desire to see you enjoying that happiness which I know can only be found in religion." The mistress, at this unexpected reply, wept, too; she felt her mind deeply affected, and entered into some very serious conversation with her servant. They often talked together; the impressions of the mistress deepened; at length Mary affectionately pressed her to seek further instruction from her minister, who would explain all these things so much better than she could. "But Mary," the mistress replied, "I cannot do this; you know I am a churchwoman." Mary answered, "I am a poor, ignorant girl, and do not know much about such things; but I think, mistress, if we get to heaven, it will not matter a deal whether it were through church or chapel !" The mistress did not

entirely disregard Mary's advice. She went first and listened outside the chapel, then she would go and hear the minister occasionally, and, before the year closed, both she and her husband had united themselves with the church.

A much esteemed brother in the ministry states:-I mentioned the story of poor Mary soon after I heard it at one of our own church meetings, and one of our members told me afterwards, that her mind was instantly fixed on one of her own servants, a faithful servant, but not pious. She prayed for her, and resolved to seek her good. In about six months that young woman joined us, and dated her first decided impressions to the prayer and a few remarks which were made at the domestic altar on the very evening her mistress set her heart on her salvation. Thus was the promise again verified, “It shall come to pass that before they call I will hear, and while they are yet speaking I will answer."

THE CHURCHES AND THE MISSION.

To the Editors of "The Church."

Dear Sirs,

Although I have trespassed upon your pages (for which the importance of the subject must be my apology) to the extent of two letters already, I must ask you to allot me a short additional space, to mention a few facts not before referred to. Whilst it is an affecting circumstance that, after more than sixty years' existence of the Baptist Mission, there should be found in the denomination more than nine hundred Baptist churches in the last year but one, who did not contribute to its funds; yet I am apprehensive that this, however appalling, does not stand alone as an unfavourable symptom of denominational indifference to this great and noble cause. On a still further examination of the statistics of our body, you will, I think, feel surprise and be astonished at the amount of contributions from individual churches. It is impossible to state very minutely the facts as they appear from this examination, as it would occupy more space than you

could afford me. I have, therefore, endeavoured to present to you and your readers a condensed statement, which after all does not make the worst appear.

In grouping the contributing churches into distinct classes according to the number of members reported, I find there are eighteen churches, containing from fifty to one hundred members, whose contributions did not average two pounds; many of these churches sent less than one pound, some of them rather more, but the average did not reach two pounds. Then, there are twenty churches, having from one hundred to one hundred and fifty members, the contributions from which varied in sums of from two pounds to eight pounds, none of which reached ten pounds. Again, there are twelve churches, the members in which range from one hundred and fifty to two hundred, whose collections and subscriptions did not exceed twelve pounds the largest amount, and some of these churches were less than two pounds. Furthermore, there are seven churches which have reported themselves as having from two hundred to three hundred members, whose contributions also consisted of sums in

amount from between one and two pounds per church up to and not exceeding ten pounds; one church, in which are more than three hundred members, and it is presumed a congregation in proportion to the number of members, the contributions from which did not amount to five pounds; and another church of similar magnitude, did not raise even fifty shillings. In one large town of more than fifty thousand inhabitants, where are four Baptist churches, the funds of our Mission received little more than twenty pounds. From all the churches in one county, the Mission received less than three pounds. Many of our Welsh churches are reported as large in number of members, but their contributions for missionary purposes are lamentably small; very few are the exceptions.

These, my dear Sirs, are not all the facts which might have been exhibited. I have merely presented a condensed view of those which were most prominent on investigation; but from those which are here given, it is sufficiently obvious why the amount of our missionary funds are so limited and inadequate; and even the amount now raised is contributed by but a fraction of the denomination, at least the greater part of it. No wonder that the advocates for grants from the State in support of religious objects should avow their want of confidence in the voluntary principle, when they become acquainted with facts like these; they are somewhat inquisitive on this subject when they have opportunity. In these days, when they hear so much in vindication of the scriptural character of this principle, they ask how it works; and what is the conclusion to which they come, when they hear that in one denomination of evangelical christians, containing near two thousand churches, comprising one hundred and fifty thousand members, no more than twenty thousand pounds per annum is raised for the Foreign Mission Society sustained by their own denomination? Can it be any other than that the voluntary principle is entirely inefficient? But what would be their inference, if the details as are in this letter represented, were examined by them? Doubtless in still greater disparagement of it. How, then, it may be asked, can we account for its inefficiency among ourselves? Only by a conclusion disadvantageous to our piety. One of our senior missionaries, the late Mr. Ward, of Serampore, more than thirty years ago, published

a volume of "Farewell Letters;" in one of which he says, "The spirit of missions has to christianize the church, before the church can christianize the world." If he called this "an awful fact," thirty years ago, what shall we call it who live thirty years after, with the evidence which this letter supplies? Alas, my dear Sirs, have we not as a denomination lost, if we ever had it, the primitive energy and enterprise in a thorough subjection to doctrinal or practical selfishness! The Treasurer's financial report for 1853, announces the receipts for the year to be far short of eighteen thousand pounds, leaving a balance due to him of eighteen hundred pounds. Now, with such a deficiency in our funds, how is it possible to carry out the plan proposed by the Committee, to send twenty more missionaries; especially if our churches continue under so paralyzing an influence as the details of this and my former letters exhibit? The Rev. J. A. James, of Birmingham, in one of his Pastoral Addresses, expresses himself in language so appropriate to my object in writing these letters, that I cannot do better than to employ it on this occasion:

"The church, as such," he says, "has not yet, as it appears to me, risen en masse, with all its mighty resources of faith, prayer, piety, property, and influence, and taken the field in good earnest; it is yet, as to the main body, only marshaled on the parade or engaged in review, where, amidst the glittering of arms, the thunder of artillery, the waving of banners, the sounds of martial music, and the marching of troops, there is much of the shew and the noise of military movement, but the tug of war is not come, the shock of battle is not felt, and the trophies of victory are not seen.

"But it may be said, 'These are vague generalities; what is it you want the church to do, more than it is doing?' There is wanting a sense of individual obligation, in following each professing christian through his whole life. I have said much of its being the duty of the church, and of its being laid upon the conscience of the church. But what is the church? A collection of individuals. Take away these individuals, and there is no church. The church in its collective capacity can have no conscience, the conscience of the church is the conscience of its individual members: every member in this sense is the church, and ought to feel the whole weight of the cause resting upon himself. Every