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merce, in moral and intellectual improvement, that it is impossible to separate the one from the other.”

So things went on till Mr. Salt, having reached his fiftieth year, felt himself to be in a position for retiring, and leaving his sons to carry on the business. But greater things still were before him. He had attained high station. The town and the municipality had heaped honours upon him; he could afford to make way for others. But so it was not to be, in that sense at least. A new idea took possession of his mind. He would bring into focus the various manufactories he had carried on, and put up a vast mill, not in the overcrowded town of Bradford, but outside, and create a new centre of trade. The idea grew as it took shape, and ultimately a splendid building, or rather number of buildings, arose as at his word, and in time a town sprang up around it, for the workpeople, managers, and others. This is now known throughout the world as Saltaire.

During his splendid commercial successes, Mr. Titus Salt dispensed nobly, and aided all kinds of objects designed for the moral or religious instruction of the people. At Saltaire a handsome church was erected for, and secured by trust to, the Congregational body. Provision for day and Sunday schools was made, and everything that would conduce to the best interests of his work people was promoted.

Time and space would fail to tell of the increasing influence which came to Titus Salt; how he was made M.P. for Bradford, received the honour of a baronetcy, and was favoured with the friendship of the great and noble. One thing, however, must be told in these pages, and that is the decision he was brought to in respect to the one thing in which he had failed. His connection with religious services and works was never weakened throughout his growing career. His heart was ever towards the ways of God; he knew there was the “one thing needful” to raise life to its true blessedness. But perhaps he had not grasped, with definite purpose, or, at least, had not held with firm, unwavering strength, that strong arm which bringeth salva

tion. But under the preaching of the Gospel, in which he was ever interested, he began at length to feel, more than he once did, his need of that "saving strength.” Especially a sermon which he heard from his friend, the Rev. R. Balgarnie, of Scarborough, seemed to have revealed to him his weakness and want, and brought him face to face with the great reality of being. Family afflictions and sore bereavement also laid him low. From that time forward his relations with Christ were more close and heartfelt. Now must come the open avowal of his soul's full trust in the redeeming God. The declaration he resolved to make, not in a retired and almost secret manner, as he might have done, but among his own workpeople, many of whom were themselves open disciples, and but few would rejoice more than they to know that Sir Titus Salt had joined their company. So to Saltaire he went, that he might there partake of the Lord's Supper for the first time. “ Early on the Sunday morning,” says Mr. Balgarnie, who was the preacher on the occasion, “ we set out from Methley in the family omnibus, his wife and daughters being with him. On the way thither hundreds of tracts were given away or dropped for the villagers to gather. The visit, of course, awakened much interest among the worshippers, who had rarely before seen the family among them on the Sunday, but to himself the occasion was invested with greater interest than it could be to any one else. His thankfulness, simplicity, and tenderness,” says Mr. Balgarnie, “were most touching. Surrounded as he was by the colossal buildings which his own hand had reared, it was truly beautiful to behold him now, as a little child at the feet of Jesus.”

The writer could tell much concerning the home and family life of Sir Titus Salt, for it was his privilege, at different times, to receive his hospitality at Crow's Nest. The last time it was on an occasion of marked interest. Among the company were the Rev. T. Binney, Dr. Raleigh, and other well-known men, the occasion that called them there being a religious one, the two first-named being the chief preachers. It was a memorable meeting, and Sir Titus, with more than wonted geniality, entertained his friends, for in earlier life in particular he was, even as host, the most silent of men. It is touching to think that the host, and most of his principal guests, have passed away; but glorious to bear in mind that they are now banquetting together in the eternal halls of the palace of the great King.

After some years of Christian devotedness, the time came that Sir Titus Salt must die. But he had made ready for it. When one asked him if his faith in Christ were firm, his hopes clear, and prospects bright, he answered, “Not so much as I should like them to be; but all my trust is in Him. He is the only foundation on which I rest. Nothing else; nothing else!". The well-known soliloquy of Rowland Hill was repeated to him, and instantly he adopted the lines as his own

“And when I'm to die,

Receive me, I'll cry,
For Jesus has loved me, I cannot tell why ;

But this I do find,

We two are so joined,
He'll not be in glory, and leave me behind."
And in this faith he passed away.

BRANWHITE FRENCH.

"Time is on the Wing."

T OOK ! the Past is far and faint

L Faint and far to see ;
Shall we sit and mourn it here,

Weeping silently?
For that morning of our life,

As it once has been,
When the baby-eyes were bright
And the hands were clean.

Bear us on-bear us on-
Fleeting moments, bear us on

Still entwine your fingers fine,
From the Past bear us on.

Now the. Present. Eager days

Many calls to meet ;
Some in chamber dull and grey,

Some in noisy street;
Shall we linger in the sunshine,

And escape the care ?
Nay, we take the sweet and bitter-
Work is everywhere.

Bear us on-bear us on-
Fleeting moments, bear us on-

Still entwine your fingers, fine,
In the Present bear us on.

Lo! the Future. Full of wonder,

May it be of rest?
Yes, for those true souls who triumph-

All the brave are blest.
There the sin-strife shall be over,

And the will at last
Settle down in glad submission,
All rebellings past.

Bear us on-bear us on-
Fleeting moments, bear us on-

Still entwine your fingers fine,
To the Future bear us on.

Over all our flying years

Stands the steadfast throne;
And the changeless, righteous God,

Rules from thence alone.
As the Past led to the Present,

And He brought us through,
So the Present will lead forward
To the Future too.

Bear us on-bear us on-
Fleeting monients, bear us on-

Still entwine your fingers fine,
All the way bear us on.

ALFRED NORRIS,
Author of Inner and Outer Life Poems.

BY THE REV. ADOLPH SAPHIR, D.D.

Author of Conversion,&c.

I. THE MILESTONE.
THE spot invited rest and suggested thought. While

the weary limbs enjoyed repose, the mind was
busy recalling the pictures of the past. With

gratitude the pilgrim looked on the milestone, and noticed the mark of his progress. “Hitherto the Lord hath helped me,” was his devout exclamation; “ but let me see the other side, that I may learn how many years of further toil and hardship will bring me to my destined goal !” He looked, but the milestone bore no inscription on its other side. “Is it only of the past,” he asked himself, “and does it reveal nothing of the future?” And while he examined it more carefully, he found this inscription : “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever ;' and below it, the words of Immanuel : “Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.” Whereupon the pilgrim said : “My times are in His hands, and things to come sha!l not separate me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus.”

He looked again at the milestone, and on its near side he beheld the year 1883. “So many years has He been absent, and His Church has waited in faith and love! When will He return, according to His promise ?” But there was no date on the other side. He read the words, “Watch, for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come.”

During the great fire which nearly destroyed Königsberg in the year 1764, a pastor of that city, ninety years old, lost his church, his house, his valuable library, and all his worldly goods. One of his grandsons rescued him from the flames, carrying him on his shoulders. When asked, some time afterwards, by a friend who visited him, to tell

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