RELIGIOUS INTELLIGENCE.

DALSTON-IN THE CARLISLE DISTRICT.

On Saturday evening, August 1st, we held our Sixth Chapel Anniversary. Upwards of 120 sat down to tea; and, as the trays were gratuitously furnished by the friends, the proceeds of it, in connexion with other efforts, have placed the Chapel funds in easy circumstances.

The public meeting, after tea, was addressed by M. T. Graham, Primitive Methodist, Mr. T. Hanson, Mr. S. England, and our highly esteemed Minister, the Rev. W. Jones. Mr. T. Harrison presided on the occasion.

On the Sunday following, two excellent sermons were preached by the Rev. W. Middleton, who commenced his labours as an itinerant Minister in this Circuit, and is now on his way, as a Missionary, to Australia. The season was one of deep interest, and will long be gratefully remembered by the friends. Mr. M. takes with him the prayers and best wishes of all the friends in this circuit.

As our new Chapel has not been noticed in the "Magazine," a few remarks respecting the erection of the same may not be out of place.

In 1835, when the Association was formed, the Society came away unanimously, and, as their Chapel was Connexional, they had to leave it behind them. Although it had only been erected in 1825, for a number of years it remained unoccupied ; but lately it has been let off to the Church clergyman as a day school.

Until 1851 the Association worshipped in a large room of an unoccupied Brewery, in which they had many precious seasons, and many souls brought to God, and who are still holding on their way. The room was anything but comfortable, difficult of access, and held under uncertain tenure: Under these circumstances the Society and friends determined, by the help of God, in the latter part of 1850, to erect a Chapel, and succeeded beyond their most sanguine expectations. The Chapel is built of stone, with a white ashlar front, and is capable of seating three hundred persons, and occupies a more favourable site than the old one, which is situated in a back yard. The total cost was 2501., towards which the friends collected 90/., leaving 1607. upon it, the interest upon which, with the aid of pew rents, &c., is more easily obtained than the rent of the room which they formerly occupied. The exertions of the friends and Society are all the more praiseworthy when it is taken into account, that they entirely belong to the working class, and are situated in a parish where the Established Church is predominant. We have not seen that amount of prosperity which is desirable; still we have gone steadily on, We have peace in our borders and are expecting prosperity in our palaces.

BRISTOL.

T. H.

This Circuit having amalgamated with the Association, a few particu. lars respecting it may interest your numerous readers. We have recently been favoured with a glorious outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Many saints have been greatly quickened, and some hundreds of sinners have been turned to righteousness. A Saturday evening band-meeting was commenced some twelve months ago. It was begun by, and for some weeks confined to, a few of the preachers, then the exhorters, Sunday-school teachers, and Tract distributors were invited to attend, and finally it was thrown open to our Churches. We have had, for some months, an average attendance of two hundred. The cloud of the Divine presence rests upon us, and our souls are filled with purity, peace, and joy. God is raising up more labourers. Eight young men have just had notes given them to preach, and may the Great Head of the Church bless and make them a blessing. Our Circuit income has of late greatly increased, and is still increasing. A house has been taken, and is being furnished for a second preacher, who is to be stationed here by the next Annual Assembly. For years past, in this Circuit, we have realized

the life-giving, fertilizing, and beautifying power set forth in the hundred and thirty-third Psalm, "Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity," &c.

In April last, at the Anniversary for Milk-street Chapel, we were favoured with the services of the Rev. Matthew Baxter, President of the Annual Assembly. He preached twice on the Sabbath, and again on the Monday evening, to large audiences. The people were all delighted, and many I know were much profited by his clear, full, and masterly exposition of divine truth. The Anniversary Sermons of Salem Chapel, Baptist Mills, were preached by him last Sabbath. The Chapel was full in the morning, and crowded in the evening. The favourable impression made on the friends by his first visit was much extended and deepened by this. The following evening, in compliance with a request made by the friends of Salem, he delivered a lecture. The subject he chose was, "England's greatness, and the causes of that greatness." The chair was occupied by the writer. The lecture abounded with useful information, close and powerful reasoning, apposite and telling illustration, and was all, after the first few sentences, delivered with great animation. The lecturer was frequently interrupted by bursts of applause; and, after he had closed, the whole audience rose and thanked him for his services. By many, a strong wish was expressed that he would visit them again ere long, and in this wish I most heartily concurred.

Bristol, July 17th, 1857.

Yours most respectfully,

TAVISTOCK.

JOSEPH GARSIDE.

A Social Tea Meeting was held here on the 22nd instant, with a view of calling together the members of Society and Congregation, and to present Mr. Hands with a testimonial as a token of their regard and esteem, previous to his removal. After the company had partaken of tea, a public meeting was com menced, over which Mr. Charles Bawden was called to preside, who alluded to the object which had convened them together in an appropriate speech.

The testimonial, comprising the following books (John Foster's Complete Works, Longfellow's Complete Poetical Works, Homer's Complete Poetical Works (by Pope), Moore's Poetical Works, Shakspeare's, Tupper's Lyrics and Proverbial Philosophy, Schlegel's Philosophy of Life, &c.) were then presented him by Mr. Bennett, accompanied by some remarks explana tory of the cause which had suggested the propriety of presenting such Testimonial.

Addresses were also delivered by Messrs. Truscott, Daintry, Duncan, and Horswill, suitable to the occasion.

Mr. Hands, in a touching speech, duly acknowledged the gift presented him, and made some remarks relative to the sympathy and esteem which had been shown him during the time he has laboured in the Circuit.

The meeting was of a very pleasing and satisfactory character. It is gratifying to state that the condition of the Churches throughout the Circuit has greatly improved during the time Mr. Hands has been with us. This must be attributed to the ability, zeal, and Christian spirit with which he has discharged his onerous and important duties, and he carries with him the regard and love of the Church, and their ardent wish that his future labours may be attended with similar results and abundantly blessed.

WESLEYAN METHODIST ASSOCIATION

MAGAZINE.

OCTOBER, 1857.

I KNOW NOT THE DAY OF MY DEATH.
By the REV. JOSEPH KIRSOP, Leeds.

Genesis xxvii. 2.

THESE words were addressed by Isaac to Esau, his first-born and favourite son. When old age had overtaken him, and his eyes had grown dim, he called Esau, and said, "Behold, now I am old I know not the day of my death. Now, therefore, take, I pray thee, thy weapons, thy quiver, and thy bow, and go out to the field and take me some venison, and make me savoury meat such as I love, and bring it to me that I may eat, that my soul may bless thee before I die." As we know of no religious significance in the eating of venison, we apprehend that it made little difference whether or not Isaac had got his savoury meat; and it is to be hoped that, in view of his approaching departure, his soul was engaged with more momentous concerns than the procuring of a favourite food.

The reason that Isaac assigned for his ignorance of the day of his dissolution was his old age. Men burdened with the weight of years know that death must come very soon. When the pillars of the house begin to tremble, and the strong men to bow themselves, men know that death may come any day, that each day may be their last. "They know not the day of their death." But, indeed, life is so uncertain, and all are so ignorant of the future, that not only the aged but the youthful may employ the language of Isaac, and say, "I know not the day of my death."

There is to every one a day of death. If a celestial being, ignorant of our history, nature, and destiny, were to visit our world, no fact would more instantly and constantly present itself to his eye than that of our mortality. Vacant places in the family, men missing from their accustomed haunts-cold corpses wrapped in death-cerementshearses with their plumes-mourners with their crapes-cities with their cemeteries-churches with their burial places-would thrust it on his view. He would watch men through infancy, childhood, youth, manhood, and old age; he would follow them through days of sorrow and of mirth, days of gloom and days of gladness-summer days and winter nights; and he would find that the journey of life always ended at the coffin-that the grave was the narrow house appointed for all living.

There is a day of death to us all, but whether it is near or distant,

in the present or a future year, is hidden from us. vealed it. "We know not the day of our death."

God has not re

Now, as this ignorance of the day of our dissolution is the result of a divine arrangement, we may readily admit that it is ordered for the wisest reasons, and productive of the best results. And as all God's works are not only right, but are sought out of them that have pleasure therein, not only may we conclude that this arrangement is a wise one, but we may reasonably expect that inquiry will show us how it is so. It is true that God does not give us account of any of His matters, when those matters transcend the grasp of our finite minds. But we think that the reasons of this divine arrangement are neither mysterious nor incomprehensible. Even a cursory examination will show us the wisdom manifested in leaving man ignorant of his own future, and making him say with Isaac, "I know not the day of my death."

Men are kept in ignorance of the period of their death,

I. BECAUSE TO KNOW THIS WOULD EMBITTER THEIR LIVES.

It seems certain that our life would be embittered, our souls disquieted, our happiness impaired, by knowing the day of our death. To foresee the moment of our departure-to foreknow the time when the lamp of life would go out in darkness—when the soul would quit its earthly tenement, and "this sensible warm motion become a kneaded clod," could add nothing to the sum of good we enjoy, but would, we apprehend, greatly diminish it. In reference to lesser evils than our judgment or our imagination teaches us to consider death, does not the fact that we are ignorant of the time of their approach, and the length of their continuance, greatly lessen the dread that we entertain of them? We are morally certain that sickness, losses, disappointments, bereavements, calamities of different kind and complexion, will occur. Man, we know, is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward. But while we know that trials and distress are coming, we know not when they will come, how long they will continue, how often they will return. And this ignorance makes it much more easy for us to retain our equanimity than it would be if we knew our future trials as well as we remember the trials that are past. Our ignorance and uncertainty of the future make us feel the pang of our sufferings only when they actually overtake us; but if they were accurately foreseen, we would feel every pang by anticipation. "Cowards," says the poet, "die many times; the valiant taste of death but once," meaning that timid, fearful men, anticipating their death, feel, often by their forebodings, its sting and bitterness, while men of a more cheerful and courageous spirit feel the pain of dying only when in the article of death. Now, if we foresaw the time, manner, extent, and duration of our coming trials, we would feel our trials not only when they occurred, but we would antedate them—we would foretaste them-we would feel the prickle ere we were hurt by the thorn-we would feel the sharpness of the point ere we were wounded by the sword. When, through peculiar circumstances, a person sees that a certain calamity is inevitable, how

often is he overborne, not by the pressure of the calamity itself, but by the very thought of it? And if we clearly saw what our future sufferings would be, the accumulated weight of them would be awfulappalling overwhelming. The whole burden of futurity would rest on one point-the present moment; and our hearts would fail us. We would weep for our friends ere yet they had departed, and feel our losses ere yet they had occurred. Ingratitude would wring our hearts with anguish while as yet there was no token, and clouds of trouble and sorrow would lower while as yet the sky was clear and cloudless, and our dwellings were illumined by prosperity, sunny and serene. It is injurious to think carefully of the morrow, whose events are yet hidden; but how could we help thinking of it anxiously, eagerly, tearfully, fearfully, if all its woes, wants, and sorrows, lay open to our view? Oh! if the future were known, our life would be a bitterness, a bondage, and a burden.

But it may be asked, how does all this bear on our present theme? It may be true that our ignorance of future sufferings promotes our present happiness, but what has this to do with our ignorance of the day of our death? It is the certainty of the fact that we must die that depresses and burdens us, and not our knowledge or ignorance of the time of our death. We acknowledge this in part. The fact of our mortality is a source of painful feeling; but we maintain that, if we could foresee the time of our dissolution, or calculate it as astronomers do an eclipse, this would be an additional cause of disquietude, a superadded circumstance sure to harass and distress. Even Christian hope, which would moderate and weaken such a painful feeling, would not necessarily remove it. Afflictions, though they work together for the Christian good, are yet felt by him to be grievous; and death, though it ushers the believer into everlasting glory, is a gloomy thing -cold, cheerless, undesirable. If even Christian men shrink from death, the knowledge when their death would take place would greatly increase its bitterness, and much impair their present enjoyments.

If these things are so, we must admit and admire God's goodness in keeping us ignorant of the day of our departure. If the certainty of future sufferings is rendered less painful by the uncertainty of their period, precise nature, and duration; and if this principle is applicable to death as to other evils-that is, if the knowledge of our mortality is rendered less distressing by our ignorance of the time of our dissolution ; then we all may be thankful to say with Isaac, "I know not the day of my death."

Men are ignorant of the day of their death,

II. BECAUSE TO KNOW IT WOULD EMBOLDEN THEM IN SIN.

As it is, men know not what a day may bring forth. For aught they can tell, there is but a step betwixt them and death. The very next wave that breaks on the shores of time may wash them into an unseen state and an eternal world. And yet what is the conduct of most? They lift up the arm of rebellion against God-live regardless of death, judgment, heaven, and hell. Now, if such is the conduct of