THE business of religious people, in dealing with the young, is simply to appeal to the conscience, and leave that to speak for itself. There is danger of doing too much, as well as too little. The style of “I will,” and “You shall," is so often employed in intercourse with children, that we sometimes use it when seeking to promote religion. When used in that case, it involves a vain and idle boast. The greatest and the wisest man cannot, in the matter of true religion, coerce the merest child. God has given freewill even to children, and that cannot be forced. By free consent they may become moral and religious. All the commanding in the world is nothing, unless we gain the will; and the best way of gaining that, permanently, and to a good purpose, is to appeal at once to the conscience. Conscience knows very well that it is wise and right at once to submit ourselves unto God.

If both sin and the Gospel are essentially moral things, and therefore concern the faculty of the human conscience; if the conscience of a child is so far developed, that he can, as well as an adult, discern the difference between moral right and wrong; and if a child's will,

through the conscience, can be brought to choose the one and refuse the other, then no limits can be set to the influence of religion in the world. There may be so many religious people upon earth, that this world, bad as it is, may have a Christian public opinion, and a truly Christian public morality. If children must be converted, and if they may be converted, then Methodism, hitherto, has done nothing for mankind compared with what it may, and probably will yet, actually accomplish. If the principles of John Wesley be but applied to the minds of the young as they may and ought to be, they will make “the kingdoms of this world" to "become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of His Christ,” in a sense that will greatly surprise even many truly Christian people. Methodists will then begin to talk, not about how many thousands have this year been added to the Society, but how many are yet unconverted, and living in sin. The army of Christ will be prepared to surround the remnant of sinners that are left; and, literally, all shall know the Lord, "from the least to the greatest.”—Rev. S. Jackson.

in all I have done hitherto,- I will not say, as God knows them, but even as they stand before my own judgment, so biassed by vanity,-you would probably wonder that I should have courage longer to continue such an imperfect work. And, in truth, my

courage would fail me if I looked only to my own powers. But I have set my hope in the mercy of my God, and He will, this is my glad confidence, -He will at last fashion Himself a useful instrument out of this unserviceble one; and, until then, I trust this same grace will cover over the thousand defects of my labours, and repair the many faults I have committed. This confidence cheers me when I am cast down by the thought that the children may, in one way or other, have received some injury to their souls'

welfare through my shortcomings. I wrestle with the Lord in prayer that He would heal such mischiefs, that He would spare me that one sorrow, to have been the cause of condemnation to any one of them, that He would suffer no single one of the souls committed to me to be lost through my sin; and, behold, sometimes I feel as if the Lord Himself spoke to me, and said, "What thou hast asked shall be! thou shalt find them all, all gathered around My throne."-Memoirs of Miss Sieveking.

PAUL'S SOJOURN IN TARSUS.

BY THE REV. J. MARRAT. THERE is some doubt as to whether Paul went direct from Cæsarea to Tarsus. In his own account of his proceedings, subsequent to his stay with Peter in Jerusalem, he says, "Afterwards I came into the regions of Syria and Cilicia." If these words are to be taken as indicating the order of his progress toward his native city, we must think of him as landing at Seleucia, and going thence, perhaps through Antioch, to Tarsus. But if "Syria and Cilicia" are not intended to mark the order of movement, but simply "the regions" visited, we conclude that the Apostle went over the Sea of Cilicia, and up the Cydnus; a river flowing through Tarsus, and noted as having borne the pride of the Egyptian queen, when, with purple sails all steeped in costly odours, and "silken tackle" worked by "flowersoft hands," she went to meet Marc Antony.

INCIDENTS.

rich sweep of fields and gardens fanned by delicious airs, making it a favourite residence of the luxurious, both among the Greeks and the Romans. Tarsus was not without stately streets and busy wharves, and had long been distinguished by the intellectual activity of its people; but none of those who taught in its schools of philosophy had the faintest idea that it would be most renowned as the birthplace of a Jew, who, though execrated by many of his own countrymen, would have his name inwoven with the brightest facts in the history of mankind.

But why had Paul come to Tarsus? Returning not a Rabbi full of honours, but a disciple of the Nazarene, would not the relatives who had sent him to Jerusalem with such proud hopes of what he would be to their nation, turn upon him with fierce hate? Would not the old, familiar doors be closed against him? Would he not be hurled with anathemas from the synagogue? These are natural suppositions; yet it is not difficult to show the probability of a more favourable reception. From the manner of Paul's bringing up, he being an Hebrew of the Hebrews," we infer that his relatives were of the nobler and devouter type of Jews; a class who were disposed to welcome the

It was 66 no mean city' " in which Paul had passed his boyhood, and to which he was returning for a brief time. It was the chief city of Cilicia, a province roughened on the west by jagged hills; but having on the east a

new faith as a higher manifestation of the Judaic life, and as likely to quicken the old forms, and to give force and spirituality to the old law. It is true the conduct of Paul before his acceptance of Christ does not sustain this assertion; but, as a rule, it will be found that while the Apostles and Evangelists had their deadliest opponents in the hard and formal part of the Jewish people, they were gladly received and efficiently aided by the better side of that people.

History often repeats itself. John Wesley, and his immortal fellowworkers, were repelled with insult and violence by the ignorant and unbelieving, both of the clergy and laity, as enemies of the Church of England; but were hailed by the enlightened and spiritually-minded as the truest friends of that Church; bringing out the living meaning of its creeds and its liturgy, and re-kindling the dead embers on its forsaken altars; and in parsonages such as those of Madeley and Haworth they found, to use Bunyan's delightful imagery, the chamber called "Peace," with the window opening toward the rising

sun.

Besides, Paul informs us (Rom. xvi. 7) that his "kinsmen," Andronicus and Junia, were in Christ before" himself. But, whether Paul's friends were favourable or otherwise, we are quite sure that he would not conceal his faith, or attempt to be a disciple in

secret. There was no cowardice or worldly expediency to close his lips; and in the house, in the market-place, and in the synagogue he would prove, by arguments drawn from the law and the prophets, that Jesus is the Christ. He could not but speak for his Master, and it has been suggested, not without reason, that he at this time founded those Churches in Cilicia to which the Apostolic decrees were afterward sent from Jerusalem.

But another scene awaited him. The persecution which raged at the time of Stephen's martyrdom, led to the scattering of the Church, and the consequence was a wider diffusion of the truth. Christ was preached in Antioch, and many Jews and Gentiles believed on Him in that city. Barnabas was appointed to instruct and consolidate the newly-gathered Church. He was gladdened by what he saw, but the work had assumed such proportions as to make him feel the need of a colleague; and, knowing how Paul was impassioned with the thought of the Gospel as a widening ring of holy light that should enclose the Gentile as well as the Jew, and that all his sympathies would be with the great movement in Antioch, he left. the city for a time, and, travelling on one of the roads which the Romans had formed in several parts of Cilicia, came "to Tarsus, for to seek Saul: and when he had found him, he brought him unto Antioch."

Life-Companions.

PROV. xii. 4: "A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband: but she that maketh ashamed is as rottenness in his bones."

THE best fit, or the worst misfit, that ever occurs in human affairs, is that which may be ratified by a few words, and is generally symbolized by a plain gold ring. It is very awkward to occupy a house so constructed that the rain will come in, and the smoke will not go out. It is exceedingly provoking to receive from the tailor a costly coat which appears to have been intended primarily for some other person, and makes your friends wonder they had never previously observed how roundshouldered you are. Exquisitely painful is a journey performed in a pair of boots two barleycorns shorter than they ought to be. But the worst misfit is that of an unhappy marriage.

This proverb speaks of the "husband" as greatly affected, for good or evil, by his choice. The lesson applies to the other side also, although it is convenient to speak of one only. In most respects the terms husband and wife may, in this connection, be interchanged. Men and women are, to a great extent, made or marred on their wedding-day. Take heed, then, how you choose your wife; and also take heed how you cherish your wife.

The worth of a good wife is inestimable. -A gold crown, studded with diamonds, and associated with regal robes and kingly sceptre, make a mighty difference in a man's appearance. In the estimation of onlookers it happens that the wife is thought to be the greatest ornament belonging to many of us; and, in our own estimation also, she is our glory and "crown."

Edward the First had some such notion as this concerning his good queen Eleanor, and, perhaps, he was not far wrong. He

believed that she saved his life when he had been wounded by a poisoned arrow. But Eleanor had, during their married life, drawn many a sting which otherwise would have rankled in his soul, and had healed many a wound. When she died in Lincolnshire, King Edward greatly mourned her loss. He directed that her body should be brought to Westminster for interment. Afterwards he caused beautiful crosses of stone to be erected at Lincoln, Grantham, and every other place, about ten in all, where the corpse had rested, finishing at Charing-Cross, then a beautiful village. Edward felt that her worth had been inestimable. She was to him both ornament and treasure.

In January, 1867, there was a very heavy snow-storm in some parts of England. At Mount-Pleasant, between Shiffnal and Wellington, there lived an aged couple named Shepherd, the husband being seventy-one years of age, and the wife one year younger. Shepherd was engaged as a furnace-tender at the Old Park Company's Works, and on this snowy night he went on duty as usual, his time being up at six on the following morning. During the night snow fell heavily, accompanied by violent gusts of wind, and large drifts were formed in many places. The old woman awoke very early in the morning, and perceived the state of affairs. She became anxious about her husband, who would have to cross some fields on his way home. She got up at once, kindled the fire, and prepared everything for her husband's breakfast. When all was done, an hour remained. She therefore lit a lantern; and, taking the needful implements, set to work, and cleared a path through the snow all the way to the furnaces, where her husband was completing his night's task. Though the distance was a quarter