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Published by the Trustees of the late Peter Drummond, at Drummond's Tract Depot, Stirling, N.B. Rev. William Taylor, M.A., Editor.

A HERO OF DUTY.

ON the North of Holland, over an extent of three leagues, the country is not protected from the incursions of the sea by any natural barrier. Some two hundred years ago, the Dutch undertook the gigantic task of erecting enormous dykes of granite blocks and clay, to resist the force of their terrible invader. Behind this shelter numerous villages arose, and flourish to the present day. Alkmond in particular, which numbers 10,000 inhabitants, is built a little below the dyke, which is kept in constant repair by two hundred workmen, under the direction of an engineer.

"Stones!" cries one.
"There are no more."
"Mortar !"

"There is no more."

"Take off your clothes!" cries the master, tearing off his own; "stop the holes with them!"

What will not men do for a noble leader in a great cause? Cheerfully, without a murmur, straining every nerve, the gallant two hundred toil on, half naked, exposed to all the fury of the November tempest.

and the sea will have burst over the dyke, and spread
It wants a quarter to midnight. A few inches more,
furiously over the defenceless country.
To-morrow
there will not be a living soul in all those flourishing
villages. The clothes are all used up: but the danger
increases; the tide will rise till midnight.

"Now, my men," said the clear, thrilling voice of the master, "we can do nothing more. On your knees, all of you; and let us each cry mightily to God for help."

One dark afternoon in November, about a century ago, a furious wind was blowing from the north-west, and increasing every moment. The engineer in charge. was a young man, engaged to be married, whose friends which shook and trembled beneath the fury of the And there, in the midnight darkness, on the dyke, and family lived at Amsterdam. He was to go to Amster-tempest, the brave two hundred knelt, lifting their dam that very evening, to join in a great festival, long hands and their hearts to Him who can say to the looked forward to, and eagerly desired. His prepara- winds and the waves, "Peace, be still." And as upon tions were all made; and he was in high spirits, just the Sea of Galilee, so now he heard His children's cry, ready to set out. Suddenly the sound of the rising and delivered them in their distress. wind struck upon his ear; and he remembered, with a pang of anxiety, that it was the time of the high tides. He thought of his dyke, and of all that depended on it. It would be a dreadful disappointment not to go. But the dyke! His friends would be all expecting himwatching for him. What would they think? But the dyke! There was a fierce conflict between inclination and duty.

It is six o'clock. The sea is rising. But at seven he must set out for Amsterdam. Shall he go? His

Meanwhile the people of Alkmond ate and drank, sang and danced, little thinking that there were but a few inches of mason work between them and death! Thousands of lives had been saved, because one man had done his duty.

heart says yes; duty says no. Again he looks at the A REAL SAVIOUR for REAL SINNERS. sea, watches the rising storm, and decides to remain

at his post.

He then runs to the dyke. It is a scene of the utmost confusion. His two hundred men are aghast, bewildered. The storm has become a hurricane. The supply of tow and mortar is exhausted. They are at their wit's end to know how to repair the breacheshow to defend the place against the terrible enemy who is every moment gaining upon them. But as soon as the young engineer appears, a joyous cry bursts from every breast, "Here is the master! God be praised! Now all will be well."

The master places each workman at his post, and a desperate battle begins between man and the furious ocean. About half-past eleven, there is a cry from the

centre

"Help! help!"

"What is the matter?"

"Four stones carried away at a blow!" "Where is that?"

"Here to the left."

The master does not lose a moment. He fastens a rope round his body; four workmen do the same; and forty arms seize the ropes, whilst the five brave fellows throw themselves into the waves to repair the damage. The mad waves struggle with them, dash them about, blind them. No matter: they do their duty. And then they are hauled on land again. But the cry, "Help! help!" soon rises from all

parts.

BY ABDALLAH.

HERE are some, whose sins would appear to be like the poet's "painted ship upon a painted ocean," of an imaginary sort, only filling up an outline on the canvas. They think it is necessary to confess their sins, out of courtesy to God, by way of religious compliment. And, as their confession is but from the teeth outwards, so God's salvation is thought of by them as a sort of whitewash, or at best as only skindeep-nothing very real or substantial.

When Luther was worn down to skin and bone, with lamentations of his sin, and anxious efforts after salvation, toiling in prayers and vigils night and day, and crying out, "Oh, my sin! my sin! my sin!" he was asked by Staupitz, "Would you like to be a sinner only on canvas, and have a Saviour also only on canvas? Know that Jesus Christ is a Saviour of those who are great and real sinners, and who deserve utter condemnation."

When Brownlow North was preaching on one occasion, an old companion of the days of his ignorance and sin came to hear him, and asked him, at the close of the service, why he was doing this sort of work. Was it for a wager? Because if so, he really did it splendidly. The evangelist told his interviewer that

he was doing it out of the depths of his heart;-that he had been a debtor to Christ for the salvation of his soul, and was trying to make known to his fellowsinners, in the best way he could, their guilt and need of salvation, and to point them to Christ, urging them to flee to Him, as he should be answerable on the day of judgment. Sin to the preacher was very real, and salvation from it was also very real.

Dr. Moody Stuart, when once preaching in our hearing, and speaking of Christ as a Saviour for sinners, remarked that the question now-a-days was hardly about Christ, as a Saviour for sinners: the question was more about the sinners. Where were we to get the sinners for the salvation which Christ had to give them ?—we were all so ready to think ourselves something else than sinners against God, lost, under condemnation and wrath, in slavery to sin and a body of death, in the Bible sense. And he expressed the opinion, that seldom is a sinner brought down to the lowest point, to realise himself a sinner absolutely without plea or hope, who does not find soon that salvation is of the Lord, being led to look to the Lord for it, and finding it.

A man once encircled a poor worm with fire: the worm crawled this way and that way, in the vain effort to escape, but at last, completely baffled on every side, lay down in the midst despairing, to await its end. The man then took it up in his fingers, and lifted it beyond danger or fear. It was like the helpless, despairing sinner, who is girt about with wrath, and is fully aware that he is shut up to die; till Jesus Christ, in the exercise of sovereign power and grace, rescues him.

"Not the righteous, sinners Jesus came to save."
"I am a poor sinner, and nothing at all,
But Jesus Christ is my all in all."

"Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to thy Cross I cling."

Dr. M'Donald, of Ferintosh, in addressing a large congregation, preached specially to unsaved sinners. He was sharply reproved by one for doing so, because, it was said, there was only one sinner in all the parish! Well, if one real sinner reads these lines-one who feels himself a sinner above others, above most or even all-Jesus Christ came for the sake of such-a real Saviour for real sinners; in whom real sinners may find a refuge, and not trust in vain.

Three persons were once conversing on divine things, They all agreed that Jesus Christ was a great and real Saviour, and that he was a precious Saviour. Two of them were able to say moreover, "Jesus Christ is my Saviour;" but this the third could not say. Jesus Christ is a real Saviour for real sinners; but he is no Saviour to me if he be not mine, and freely received by me to be mine, as he is fully offered in the Gospel.

A convinced sinner was once crying aloud in distress many times, at a season of awakening, "O Lord Jesus, receive me! O Lord Jesus, receive me!" One who was accustomed to deal with such cases whispered, "Say not, 'Lord Jesus, O! receive me,' but say, Lord Jesus! I receive thee."" The awakened one took up the altered cry, and soon said it with his heart as well as with his mouth: "Lord Jesus! I receive thee;" and the burden fell off.

Jesus Christ is a real Saviour for real sinners; a real, and great, and precious Saviour; and all this, even at this present hour, to every one that receiveth him.

A South Sea Island warrior, whom sin had found out, dreamed one night that he was journeying home, but found his way intercepted by a great mountain. He toiled up the steep ascent, but at a difficult point "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten lost his footing and tumbled to the foot. Again he Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, tried, and again, and again, with the same result. At but have everlasting life." last, when about to despair and abandon the vain attempt, he saw a mysterious finger stretched out above the mountain; and lo! one drop of blood fell from that finger on the mountain, and blotted it immediately out from the face of the earth. So he walked on, and reached his home. "That mountain," he said afterwards, when relating his dream, "that mountain was the mountain of my sins; and the blood that fell on it was one drop of the blood of Christ."

The author of the little book called "The Sinner's Friend" once said that if any one at the gate of heaven stopped him saying, that such a sinner as he was could not get in, another would answer him and say, "But he has a drop of the Lord's blood upon him; you cannot keep him out."

Dr. Stuart, already quoted, relates that he one day spoke with a lady whom he took to be a true Christian, but who said she was not; she was seeking, and could not find, the way of salvation. He described to her the way, pointed her to Christ and quoted the promises in Him; but all without effect. At last-as he dwelt particularly on the fact that it was for sinners that Christ came-only for sinners, in their character as sinners, because they were sinners and nothing else, needing to be saved-the lady, who had found out her true character as a sinner, and now saw that Christ came for such, exactly for such, showed tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.

All in Thee.

Dear Lord! 'tis dark, I cannot see;
Earth's lamps are all gone out:

I come to Thee; 'tis Thou canst lead
Me in this maze of doubt;

Thou art "the Light!"

My guide-book tells me I have lost
My way I come to Thee,

To leave no more my Saviour's side,
But to abide with Thee;

Thou art "the Way !”

Earth and earth's ways too oft deceive,
My own heart tells me so :
Help me to quit the false-henceforth
Wisdom's true paths to know;

Thou art "the Truth 1"

Dear Lord! this life but ends in death;
The dark sad grave I see :
Why were we born, if but to die?
Say! is there hope in Thee?

Thou art "the Life !"

"The Light," "the Truth," "the Way," "the Life"--
All these in Thee I see:

Oh make me Thine! if Thou art mine,
Then I have all in Thee;

Yes! ALL, dear Lord, in Thee.

M. W.

"In a Vision of the Night."

A TRUE NARRATIVE.

"For God speaketh once, yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not.

In a

dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumber
instruction, that He may withdraw man from his purpose, and hide pride
ings upon the bed: then He openeth the ears of men, and sealeth their
from man. He keepeth back his soul from the pit.
If there be a
messenger with him, an interpreter, one among a thousand, to show unto
man his uprightness: then He is gracious unto him, and saith, DELIVER
HIM FROM GOING DOWN TO THE PIT; I HAVE FOUND A RANSOM."-
Job xxxiii. 14-18; 23, 24.

MUCH valued Christian friend lately asked me to spend two hours in the evening at his house to meet one of those "honourable women," of whom there are "not a few," who, unobtrusively, in holy quietness, labour in the Lord in the lowest parts of London-that great city with its four millions of people, many of whom know not their right hand from their left. Deeply interesting and very encouraging to the Lord's humble people would be the record of the glorious things we listened to that evening. But their record is on high, and their witness in Heaven; and perhaps it is as well they should be left with Him in whose strength, and for whose glory, they have been done.

Before we separated, I was asked to read the Word of God, and ask His blessing in family worship. A visit I had paid in the course of the afternoon led me to read the passage quoted at the head of this paper. I briefly referred to the afternoon's visit, and also to John Newton's remarkable dream about the ring; adding, that such instances were in favour of the supposition that God may sometimes still speak to us in a VISION OF THE NIGHT.

As we were breaking up, our dear friend from London said: "I think I can mention a little circumstance, which shows that He does still so speak." She then told the following story which I repeat as nearly as possible in her own words.

is so ill. He cannot live long. And he is too weak to leave his bed, so that he cannot hurt you or do you any harm. Oh! do go. Please do." I could not remain deaf to her earnest pleadings, and so promised to go at eleven o'clock next morning. She arranged not to be at home, fearing that her presence would exasperate him, as he had said to her, "I hate the head, and making you speak to me in a way you never sight of that woman for putting such trash into your used to do about things I don't believe in.” She added, that she thought she ought to tell me he had often threatened with an oath what he would do, if I or my Bible woman should come near him again.

Well, at the time arranged I knocked at the door, and in answer to his "Come in" entered. When he recognized me, an expression of rage and horror spread over his face; and, as roughly as his feeble strength allowed, he said, "What have you come for? I don't want you: you had better be off." Very gently I said, "You are suffering, are you not? I have come to see if there is anything I can do for you. Is there anything you need and cannot get? Tell me, and I will gladly do or get anything for you." He looked enquiringly at me; and then roughly said, "You don't mean that: you would not give me anything!" On my assuring him that I would do anything within my power for his comfort, he went on to abuse the doctor for ordering what no poor man out of work could get; and at length I gathered, that he had been told to take two glasses of good port-wine a day. I said, “I have some in the mission-room, and will go and fetch it.” He looked sceptically at me, and with a coarse remark turned away. In a few minutes I returned with the wine, and gave him a glass. His only thanks were, "Now you may go: the doctor ordered me strong beef tea; but where am I to find the money for that." I quietly replied, "Beef tea takes a few hours to make; but this afternoon my Bible woman shall bring you some, and I trust it may do you much good. Good bye!"

This was all, that day. Next morning I went again. The wife was in. Hearing my voice he said most roughly, "What! you come again! That wine of yours done me no good, nor the beef tea neither." "I am very sorry to hear that," I said: "but I know, and I I had known Mrs- -for some time as a regular think you must know, it is not in my power to make attendant at my mothers' meeting. Her husband was the wine or beef tea do you any good. That is in an avowed hater of religion; not one of the class higher hands. I can only give you what the doctor who read the Bible for the purpose of cavilling and orders." "There," he said fiercely, "there now, argument; but never reading it at all, and not allowing that's enough. Don't begin to preach to me about his wife or any other person to read it in the house. higher hands. I suppose you mean God, as they Nay, when the poor woman (who, at the risk often of call him: but I don't believe in him; I won't hear ill-treatment from him, attended my mothers' meeting) | another word." He then covered his head in the bedprocured a Bible from us by weekly payments; and clothes. And so, after a few words of sympathy took it home, hoping to hide it from him by reading spoken to the poor tried wife, I took my leave. it only when he was out of the way, he discovered it and threw it into the fire. For eighteen years she continued to come for half an hour daily to our inission-room to read the Scriptures; and at her request I sometimes called upon her husband; but he steadily refused to see me, or allow me to speak on Divine things, ordering me out of the room, and even threatening insolence.

But one day, several years after my first knowledge of them, Mrs.- -came to me earnestly begging that I would try once more to see him, as he was very ill. I felt considerable hesitation about going. But she was very urgent. "You know what he is," she said, "and what he thinks about God and another world; and he

The next day I went again. "What," he said, evidently much weaker, "come again? I did not think I should see you again, after what I said yesterday."

There was something in his tone-and something, I hope, of the "still small voice" of God's own Spirit speaking within me-which melted me to tenderness and nerved me with strength. So I replied, "I am altogether too anxious about you to stay away: I must come. I should be so thankful to do you the least good. I wish so much that you would let me have a little quiet talk with you." He said, "Have you got your book with you?"

"What book? for I have a great many."