mistaken idea that we worship the stone. Are we fools? Do we not know that stone is stone, and God is God? Idiots may worship blocks-we do not. But where is God? Will you show Him to us? Who can see Him? How, then, shall the unthinking mob, the untaught, grovelling mass, worship Him whom they see not? The idea of an unseen, untangible God is too abstract for them; they cannot grasp it. Devotion will die unless we give the vulgar mind something actual on which to rest. Therefore we give them idols. The mind is concentrated on this, and thence ascends to God."

"And how, pray, is the worshipper to get an idea of God by staring at such a thing as that?" you rejoin, pointing to Ganesha, with his gross body, and head black with oily libations. "Will you fill your eyes with dirt, that you may see the glorious sun? Has God, the Creator of all worlds, the Eternal and Infinite One, an elephant's head and such a misshapen body as that? Who has ascended on high, and studied His untold glories, to paint His picture or carve His likeness? Hear a tale. In a city of the south lived a kummarlen (artisan), a man of wonderful skill in carving images; whether it were wood or silver, stone or brass, he cared not. The land was filled with the fame of his skill. One day a missionary sent for the image-maker. He came. Said the padre to the kummarlen, 'I have a job for you. I want you to grave me an image.' 'Let the gentleman give his order, and it shall be done,' said the kummarlen. 'Not now,' replied the padre; I will call you when I am ready.' The next time the missionary met him, he asked, Can you carve me the image of which I spoke? Only let master tell what is to be carved, and it shall be done,' answered the man. 'But,' said the padre, it must be like the original; if it is, you shall be well paid; you shall have a hundred rupees if you wish it.

'Never fear!' cried the kummarlen, 'it shall be done.' 'Very good!' answered the missionary, 'just carve for me an image of my immortal soul, and bring it to me.' 'Arda-appah!' exclaimed the man, clapping his hand upon his mouth in astonishment; ' Arda-appah! your soul! how can I do that?' and turning, he was soon out of sight.

"And now," you continue, casting a searching glance around the attentive crowd, "if you cannot make a likeness of the soul of a poor pitiful worm, yesterday born, to-morrow gone, how, how will you make a likeness of the infinitely glorious, the eternally omnipotent Lord God, the Creator of all things, whom no man can see and live?"

The Hindu now is in his stronghold; custom, the custom of their fathers, is to them immutable law; but from this you drive him, and force him to acknowledge that the example of his ancestors is no excuse for wrong-doing; and then you seek to make him feel the weight of sin that he may turn to Christ as a Saviour of sinners. But this is of all things the most unpalatable to the depraved heart of man. Ridicule their idols, and they will laugh with you; lash the Brahmins, and they are delighted; tell them that there is but one true God, and they agree with you; but bid them receive the Lord Jesus Christ as their Saviour King, and they turn from Him with anger and blasphemy. Salvation, not by good works, but by the confession of vileness, with faith in Christ, is offensive to the carnal heart. By the Spirit of God only can depraved men in India be brought to submit themselves to the righteousness of Christ, that they may become

new creatures.

SAMUEL HAYWOOD was born at Gopsall Farm, Twycross, Leicestershire, on October 13th, 1806. He was one of a numerous family. Eleven brothers and sisters lived to grow up to man's estate, but three only survived him. In his young days he attended the ministry of the Established church with his parents; except occasionally, when he accompanied his mother to a small Wesleyan chapel in the neighbourhood, on Sabbath evenings. As they lived at a distance from the chapel, he was required to go with his mother for company. This was not always congenial to his feelings. He used to think, as they trudged along the road in the dark, that both he and his mother would be better at home by the cheerful fireside. His attendance upon these means, and his pious mother's counsels and prayers, were not lost upon him, for in early life he became the subject of religious impressions. One apparently trifling circumstance connected with his boyhood may be mentioned. Persons who came to visit his mother would frequently converse upon the sad condition of the poor slaves in the West Indies, as this subject was now beginning to agitate the public mind. These conversations were overheard by young Samuel, and such was the influence they had upon his mind, that he was obliged on one occasion, if not more -to steal out of the house, and away from all company, that he might give vent to his feelings in tears and prayers. Seeds were now sown in his heart, which produced fruit in after years.

While quite a youth he was sent from home, as an apprentice, to Market Bosworth. Here he began to attend the Independent Chapel, though at first only as an occasional hearer. The Rev. Mr. Barrows was then the minister at the chapel. About this time he was wanting some young people to labour

in the Sunday school as teachers, and he fixed his eye upon young Haywood as a likely youth for such work. At the first opportunity, he personally invited him to come and help. This invitation caused the young man some surprise. He wondered what could have induced the minister to ask him to become a teacher; and he asked himself how he could teach that to others of which he knew so little. After some consideration he acceded to the request. This engagement brought him more regularly and frequently under the preaching of the Gospel, and soon its effects became apparent, for the heart of the hearer began to open up under the divine word, and to realise its preciousness. His conversion he dates from a sermon preached by Mr. Barrow from Ezekiel xxxvi. 26, "A new heart will I give you," &c., which promise was fulfilled in the experience of the hearer. From this time he began to follow the Lord fully, and eventually he joined the church at Bosworth, on the 30th of May, 1827, the Rev. G. Swan being the pastor then. While there, it was known that he had great sympathies for the slaves. Nicknames are sometimes significant, but not always of good. In his case it was so, for he was popularly known as Sambo.

When he had completed the term of his apprenticeship, he left Bosworth, and went into a situation at Tottenham as journeyman. His Christian principles were now put to the test. His master required him to attend to the shop on Sundays, as it was his usual plan to sell on that day as well as others. This Mr. H. could not do; he feared God, and could not disregard His day. To escape waiting upon the customers, he would go out early in the morning, and not return all day, leaving the person in the house to do the best she could. His master tried

to induce him to sell on Sunday, but he would not, and was therefore obliged to leave. Now he was cast upon the world, not knowing whither to go, or what to do. Providence directed his steps to London, and fixed the bounds of his habitation for a time at Clapham. He obtained a situation there, and his Sabbaths became his own. While there he attended the ministry of the Rev. G. Brown, at Old Town Chapel. The Sabbaths he now enjoyed: he sat under a preached Gospel with delight, and the fruit was sweet unto his taste. It was at this time that great thoughts and good began to revive in his soul. The embers which had long lain dormant were quickened into life; and he felt that he must give his life more entirely to the service of Christ, and of souls. His boyish yearnings after the poor slaves returned. He saw them perishing for lack of knowledge, and he would fain go to the rescue. As he mused upon this subject the fire burned, and he could not rest until he made known his thoughts and feelings to Christian friends. He was encouraged to entertain the idea of becoming a missionary to the heathen, and for the purpose of securing some preparatory training prior to entering college, he returned to Bosworth, where he received instruction from the Rev. G. Swan. At the expiration of his studies there, be was admitted as a student into Hackney College in 1831.

some

After spending the usual term in this college with credit to himself, and to the satisfaction of his tutors and friends, he was publicly set apart for missionary work at the Old Town Chapel, Clapham. This was a day to be remembered, on account of the deep interest manifested by crowds in the young missionary, and the Society's operations generally. Several valued and honoured men took part in the services, among whom the Rev. Richard Knill, of beloved memory, may be mentioned. Soon after he set sail with his beloved partner for the future scene of his labours. His heart was filled with love

and hope; and many another heart said to him," May God prosper thee." The Rev. J. Ross sailed in the same vessel with him.

He arrived at Berbice on the 2nd of June, 1834. The scene around him, and the work before him, deeply affected his heart. He felt his need of divine aid, and many prayers did he now offer up that strength and grace might be given him to "make full proof of his ministry." In earnestness and faith he began to sow the seed of divine truth among the people, and he was permitted to see much of it grow up, and produce fruit, A large chapel, called Parge Chapel, was built for him, in which he preached Christ, and gathered souls into His fold. For about fourteen years, under a variety of experiences, he laboured on in the good cause, and the work of the Lord prospered in his hands. As a man, he was greatly esteemed by all among whom he lived. In 1840, he was elected a vice-president of the Paris African Institution. As a missionary, he was laborious, pains-taking, loving. The testimony of the Rev. J. J. Freeman, who visited the stations in Berbice while Mr. H. was there, is to this effect: that as a missionary, Mr. H.

was second to none.

In this world, nothing is immutable -the loveliest scenes change, the most pleasing objects become loathsome. Benevolent and Christian operations are liable to hindrance; and adversity and perplexity sometimes follow on the heels of the day of prosperity. It will not do to say too confidently, "My mountain stands strong." Christian missions in particular places have received checks, from unavoidable circumstances, and the harvest, which seemed to be so nicely ripening, has become a heap. It was so, to some extent, with the station where Mr. H. was located. Untoward events rendered it difficult to keep on the work there. The surrounding plantations sunk in value, and changed hands; the country became inundated by an encroaching tide-the

country was deluged with water, so that at times a boat was required to enable them to get home from chapel. The health of the missionary also began to fail, and the finger upon the dial of Providence pointed homewards. When it was known to the people that a separation became necessary between them and their pastor, they were filled with grief. They sorrowed, because they thought they should see his face. no more. A letter was sent by the people to the Directors of the London Missionary Society, expressing their regret at parting with their minister, and their desire of continued help in their time of difficulty.

Mr. H. arrived in England on the 11th of June, 1850, with a shattered constitution—a missionary's legacy. It was painful to him to be obliged to quit the field of labour which God had put it into his heart to choose, and where he had seen so many tokens of His favour; but he had learned to say, Thy will be done."

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He

As soon as his health was partially recruited, he began to look around him for a sphere in which he might proclaim Christ to his fellow-countrymen. preached for a time at Twickenham, in a chapel built by Lady Shore. From that place he went to Newport, in Essex, where he laboured with pleasure and success for about two years. His last place of labour and residence was Enderby, a village in his native county, and not far from the town of Leicester. Here, often in great feebleness of body, but always in love and anxiety of mind, he worked in the Lord's vineyard for the space of six years. His ministry was interrupted at times by attacks of illness; yet, as long as he had strength to preach, and sometimes when it was thought he had not, he would be in his pulpit. The people were greatly attached to him, and many of them owe much to him as the instrument God used for their conversion. To the small church there, about fifty souls were added during his pastorate. In this village he was seized with what proved to be

his last illness. From the first, no hopes of recovery were held out. When the medical man told him he must soon die, he seemed a little troubled, and agitated in mind, but after a few moments he became cheerful and calm, and resigned wholly to the will of God. He bore his illness with patience, and made his dying bed the pulpit from which he preached Christ to all who came to see him. As he continued alive longer than was expected, a great many had opportunity of seeing him, and to them all he gave parting counsels, such as a minister of Christ can give. A little while previous to the departure of his spirit, he called his wife to his bedside, and said, "It is all over now. All is right, all is right." He then shut his eyes, and peacefully fell asleep in Jesus, on Saturday morning, July 26th, 1862.

The funeral took place on the Wednesday following, when the services were conducted by the Rev. Charles Haddon, of Market Bosworth. Most of

the members of the church met in the chapel, where a short service was held; then all followed the corpse to its last resting-place. Groups of people stood about the village, silently watching the procession move on, and at the graveyard hundreds were collected together, to catch a last glimpse of all that was mortal of one whom they revered.

The Sabbath-school children were there, and just as the coffin was lowered into the grave they sung the hymn,

"Here we suffer grief and pain," &c.,

in a subdued tone. The minister then addressed the crowd the mourners looked into the grave, the children sang again, and all now began to move away from the scene with the feeling that a man and a Christian had gone from their midst.

On the following Sunday a funeral sermon was preached to a large and sympathising congregation by Mr. Haddon, and repeated on the next Sunday at Market Bosworth Independent Chapel, where he was well known and

much respected. "The memory of the just is blessed."

The chief characteristic in Mr. H. was his ardent desire of usefulness. He wanted to win souls to Christ. He was anxious about this, both in the pulpit and out of it. He often said that it was his wish, if it were God's will, that he might be the means of the conversion of 1000 souls. It had come to his knowledge that God had honoured him as the instrument of conversion to 800 souls and upwards. Some must also have got good from his teachings, who could not make it known to him. His desire of being useful led him to choose the missionary field as the scene of his first labours. Wherever he went he had seals to his ministry, and souls for his hire. God caused him largely to realise his devout wish. His style of preaching was adapted for usefulness among a simple and unlettered people. Matters of speculation, deep things, he left for others to discuss and explore; and was content to give his charge the simple Gospel. He spake plain things in plain words, that all might see what he desired to show them. His heart was in his sermons, and evidently they were more the production of a sensitive heart than of an acute intellect. He chose that they should be so. One of his last texts proves this. "The secret things belong unto the Lord our God," &c. Deut. xxix. 26.

He was also a man of a tender spirit. He knew how to sympathise with his people under all phases of their experience. He could " weep with those that wept, and rejoice with those that rejoiced." He was a father to the young, brother to those of his own age, and a friend to all. None sought his advice in vain. He had an open heart to receive every one in need of sympathy. This tenderness was apparent in his public ministrations. Often he became so affected while preaching, that his emotions choked his utterance, and at such seasons it was not uncommon to see both minister and people bathed in

tears. This gave him power and favour with those who like to be moved under the preaching of the word; and thus he found his way to human hearts, and secured an opening for the message he delivered. "Night and day, with tears," he warned poor sinners to flee from the wrath to come. His last visit to Bosworth, and his sermon in the chapel where he was converted, will not soon be forgotten. He was so impressed with the presentiment that he was speaking to them for the last time, and so desirous they should all turn unto the Lord, that he wept again; and such was the effect produced, that there was scarcely a dry eye in the place. Happy the minister who can thus water the seed with his tears as he sows it.

He was also characterised by a simple trust in Christ. If his biography were to be written in one sentence, it would be this:-" He trusted in God." He had a firm reliance upon Christ as his Saviour, and a childlike faith in God as his Father in Christ. He was not much troubled with doubts, and missed many a storm from which others suffer, because of his simple confidence in God. In every trying time he seemed to look as naturally up to heaven for help as a child in difficulty would to its parent. In every dark passage through which he was called to pass, he leaned upon God to lead him safely, and in every time of affliction, he sought God as his support and stay. He could say, "It is the Lord," &c.

The hymn he oft repeated was that beginning with

"Just as I am, without one plea," &c. As a sinner he trusted to the mercy of God in Christ for salvation. He died firmly relying upon that Saviour he had preached to others, supported by that religion he had spent his life to recommend. He believed it to be true in youth and health; he found it to be so in sickness and death. His memorial is," He trusted in God and was never ashamed." C. H.