All at once she became silent, and gently raised her head with a placid countenance, and was heard to say in a mild tone of voice: "Oh! I can submit. I can love Christ. How easy it is! Why did I not do it before?" We sat in silent amazement. Every word sunk deep into our hearts. We felt the conviction that God was there. She seized her next companion by the hand, and with all the tenderness becoming a fellow-sinner, began to press those very truths which had so distressed her own heart, the duty of immediate repentance and submission to God. Every word became an arrow. I felt that the work was taken out of my hands, for I perceived that God had made her the most powerful preacher. All at once A- became silent, and lifted her head with a countenance beaming with joy. "The Saviour has come, oh! how happy!" This sent fresh alarm through every heart. And now A and E unite heart and hand, and begin with H-, who had been in deep distress for some time. They urge, with all the tenderness and firm decision of those who had felt the conviction, the necessity and reasonableness of immediate repentance and submission to God. The subject pressed harder and harder, and harder still, when all at once H--was brought out of darkness into marvellous light. These three now unite heart and hand, and with one voice bear testimony to the same heart-rending truth, that God is right, and the sinner wrong. The time would fail me to finish the story of this visit. We met at two o'clock P.M., and were detained more than three hours. Suffice it to say, I never saw or heard of such an afternoon visit before, for the one-half has not been told. At the close, we began to look about us to see and inquire, "What hath God wrought?" We brought them into one circle. I said "Is it possible? This is too much!" Had I not seen it, I could not have believed it. For nine of those who entered the room in deep distress were now rejoicing in hope. The anxious ones had retired, and we were left in a circle of young converts, if they are not deceived. Not a hint had been given that one soul had experienced religion, or had any reason to hope. This was the feeling-"It is right I should love and serve God; and this I intend to do, whether saved or lost." Oh! it was a delightful circle, humble, tender, affectionate, and joyful. They appeared like children of the same great family. About eighty have been brought to rejoice in hope in this city during five weeks past. Besides these, about twenty-five students in Yale College have become hopeful subjects of Divine grace. But we much fear the bustle of commencement. It would be nothing strange if all our prospects of a future harvest should be blighted before another week shall end. Pray for us. My love to all my dear friends in Nassau, and tell them how I long to see thein. Live near to God. Live in peace, and the God of love and peace shall be with you." In short, Only let your conversation be as it becometh the Gospel of Christ, that whether I come and see you, or else be absent, I may hear of your affairs, that ye stand fast in one spirit, with one mind, striving together for the faith of the Gospel."Yours, as ever. The Counsel Chamber. 66 THE following paper constitutes the Address delivered by Dr. Chalmers at the close of his first Course of Lectures in the Divinity Hall of the University of Edinburgh. Although brief, it comprises a vast amount of wisdom. Every sentence deserves to be pondered. The lessons here laid down for Students for the Ministry are, in the highest degree, applicable to all young men intent on self-improvement. It will here be seen that the great orator places the utmost reliance upon industry. We very earnestly commend the Article to the intelligent reader, as one of the best things of the sort extant in English literature. ADVICE TO STUDENTS. BY THE LATE DR. CHALMERS. years. It were a most grievous injustice | into being in one or even in two to the noble subject of our course, There is a certain showy did I send you away with the delu- and superficial something which can sion that in the course which has be done in a very short time. One been actually described I have done may act the part of a harlequin with anything like justice to it. You have his mind as well as with his body; received little more from me than a and there is a sort of mental agility series of passing notices--the rough which always gives me the impresand unfinished sketches of one who sion of a harlequin. Anything which had to travel with rapidity over the can be spoken of as a feat is apt to land, and who, as he hurried on- suggest this association. That man, wards from one topic to another, can for example, was a thorough harletruly say that in no instance has he quin, in both senses of the word, who left so much as one of them in the boasted that he could throw off a state in which he should desire to hundred verses of poetry while he leave it conclusively. A meagre stood upon one foot. There was and unsatisfying outline is all that I something for wonder in this; but it have yet been able to render; and I is rarely by any such exploit that feel that to make a full and delibe- we obtain deep, and powerful, and rate survey of the whole territory enduring poetry. It is by dint of would be to me at least the work of steady labour-it is by giving enough many years. You are not, therefore, of application to the work, and havto estimate the fulness or the glory ing enough of time for the doing of of our theme by the yet partial, and it-it is by regular pains-taking, and orn, and broken reports of him who the plying of constant assiduities-it hath propounded it. And you would is by these, and not by any process bear away a most inadequate sense of legerdemain, that we secure the of Moral Philosophy, both as to its strength and the staple of real excelworth and its magnitude, did you lence. look only to the few superficial touches that we have yet been able to bestow, or listen only to our embryo speculations. I cannot pretend to summon, as if by the wand of a magician, a finished system of moral philosophy It was thus that Demosthenes, clause after clause, and sentence after sentence, elaborated, and that to the uttermost, his immortal orations ;-it was thus that Newton pioneered his way, by the steps of an ascending geometry, to the mechanism of the heavens; after which he as patience, and pains-taking, and resolute industry, have any share in the upholding of a distinction so illustrious. These are held to be ignoble attributes, never to be found among the demigods, but only among the drudges of literature; and it is certainly true that in scholarship there are higher and lower walks. But still, the very highest of all is a walk of labour. It is not by any fantastic jugglery, incomprehensible to ordinary minds, and beyond their reach-it is not by this that the heights of philosophy are scaled. So said he who towers so far above all his fellows; and whether viewed as an exhibition of his own modesty, or as an encouragement to others, this testimony of Sir Isaac may be regarded as one of the most precious legacies that he has bequeathed to the world. left this testimony behind him, that he was conscious of nothing else but a habit of patient thinking which could at all distinguish him from other men. He felt that it was no inaccessible superiority on which he stood, and it was thus that he generously proclaimed it. It is certainly another imagination that prevails in regard to those who have left the stupendous monuments of intellect behind them,—not that they were differently exercised from the rest of the species, but that they must have been differently gifted. It is their talent, and almost never their industry, by which they have been thought to signalize themselves; and seldom is it adverted to, how much it is to the more strenuous application of those common-place faculties which are diffused among all, that they are indebted for the glories which now encircle their remembrance and their name. It is felt to be a vulgarizing of genius that it should be lighted up in any other way than by a direct inspiration from heaven; and hence men have overlooked the steadfastness of purpose, the devotion to some single but great object, the unweariedness of labour, that is given not in convulsive and preternatural throes, but by little and little, as the strength of the mind may bear it; the accumulation of many small efforts, instead of a few grand and gigantic, but perhaps irregular movements, on the part of energies that are marvellous. Men have overlooked these, as being indeed the elements to which genius owes the best and the proudest of her achievements. They cannot think that aught so utterly prosaic of intellectual, and the other of phy 66 Before I recall myself from this digression, let me endeavour to guard you, gentlemen, against this most common error of the youthful imagination, and into which you are most naturally seduced by the very splendour and magnitude of the work that you contemplate. The Principia" of Newton, and the Pyramids of Egypt, are both of them most sublime works; and looking to either as a magnificent whole, you have a like magnificent idea of the one noble conception or the one mighty power that originated each of them. You reflect not on the gradual and continuous, and I had almost said creeping way, in which they at length emerged to their present greatness, so as now to stand forth, one the stateliest monument sical strength, which the world ever saw. You can see palpably enough how it was by repeated strokes of the chisel, and by a series of muscular efforts, each of which exceeded not the force of a single arm, that the architecture was lifted to the state in which, after the lapse of forty centuries, it still remains, one of the wonders of the world. But you see not the secret steps of that process by which the mind of our invincible philosopher was carried upward from one landing-place to another, till it reached the pinnacle of that still more wondrous fabric which he himself has consummated. You look to it as you would to a prodigy that had sprung forth at the bidding of a magician, or at least of one whose powers were as hopelessly above your own as if all the spells and mysteries of magic were familiar to him. And hence it is that nought could be more kind, and surely nought more emphatically instructive, than when he told his brethren of the species wherein it was that his great strength lay, that he differed not in power, but only differed in patience from themselves; and that he had won that eminence from which he looked down on the crowd beneath him, not by dint of a heavenborn inspiration that descended only on a few, but by dint of a home-bred virtue that was within reach of all. There is much of weighty and most applicable wisdom in the reply given by Dr. Johnson to a question put to him by his biographer, relative to the business of composition. He asked whether, ere one begin, he should wait for the favourable moment, for the afflatus which is deemed by many to constitute the whole peculiarity of genius. "No, sir; he should sit down doggedly," was the deliverance of that great moralist. And be assured, gentlemen, that there is much of substantial and much of important practical truth in it. Whether it be composition or any other exercise of scholarship, I would have you all to sit down doggedly; for if you once bethink yourselves of waiting for the afflatus, the risk is that the afflatus never may come. Had your weekly or your monthly essay not been forthcoming, I should scarcely have deemed it a satisfactory excuse that you were waiting for the afflatus. With this doctrine of an afflatus I can figure nothing more delightful than the life of a genius, spent as it would be between the dreams of self-complacency and those of downright indolence. For I presume that during the intervals between one attack and another of this mysterious affection he may be very much at ease, living just as he lists; and for all his rambles and recreations abroad having this ready explanation to offer, that he had had no visit this day from his muse to detain him at home. Existence at this rate were one continued holiday; but be very sure, gentlemen, that it is not the existence by which you ever will be guided to aught that is substantial in the acquirements of philosophy. It would be a life of illusion, an airy and fantastic day, that should terminate in nothing! And we again repeat, that if at all ambitious of a name in scholarship, or what is better far, if ambitious of that wisdom that can devise aught for the service of humanity, it is not by the wildly, wearied regularities of him who plies even though it should be the grandly the exercises of a self-appointed irregular march of a wayward and round, and most strenuously persemeteoric spirit, that you ever will veres in them. It is by these that arrive at it. It is by a slow but mental power, I will not say is cresurer path-by a fixed devotedness ated, but it is by these that mental of aim, and the steadfast prosecution power is both fostered into strength of it-by breaking your day into its and made ten-fold more effective hours and its seasons, and then by a than before; and precise, and meresolute adherence to them. It is thodical, and 'dull as these habits not by the random sallies of him may be deemed, it is to them that who lives without a purpose and the world is indebted for its best without a plan; it is by the un- philosophy and its best poetry. The Fragment Basket. SELECTIONS FROM OLD AUTHORS. A good man hates as God himself | doth; he hates not the persons of men, but their sins, - not what God made them, but what they have made themselves. We are neither to hate the men on account of the vices they practise, nor to love the vices for the sake of the men who practise them. He who observeth invariably this distinction fulfilleth the perfect law of charity, and hath the love of God and of his neighbour abiding in him.-Bishop Horne. I cannot pray but I sin; I cannot give an alms, or receive the sacrament, but I sin. Nay, I cannot confess my sins, but my confessions are still aggravations of them. My repentance needs to be repented of; my tears want washing; and the very washing of my tears has need to be washed again in the blood of my Redeemer.-Bishop Beveridge. What a privilege is this, to possess God in all things while we have them, and all things in God when they are taken from us!-Newton. Let it be accounted folly, or frenzy, or fury, whatsoever, it is our comfort and wisdom, we care for no knowledge in the world but this, that man hath sinned, and God hath suffered; that God hath made himself the Son of Man, and that men are made the righteousness of God.-Hooker. O Lord! I know not what I should ask of thee. Thou only knowest what I want; and thou lovest me better than I can love myself. O Lord! give to me, who desire to be thy child, what is proper, whatsoever it be. I dare not ask either crosses or comforts. I only present myself before thee; I open my heart to thee. Behold my wants, which I am ignorant of; but do thou behold and do according to thy mercy. I adore all thy purposes, without knowing them. I abandon myself to thee, having no greater desire than to accomplish thy will.-Archbishop Fenelon. A man may look at glass, or through it, or both. Let all earthly things be unto thee as glass to see heaven through. Religious ceremonies should be pure glass, not dyed in the gorgeous crimsons and purple, blues and greens, of the drapery of saints and saintesses.— Coleridge. CHEERFULNESS IN WANT. There is much variety ever in creatures of the same kind. See these two snails: one hath a house, the other wants it; yet both are snails, and it is a question whether either case is the better. That which hath a house hath more shelter, but |