management. It appears to me that when a brother is appointed to an important public office, as the President of an Academy, or the Editor of a Magazine, or the Secretary of a Mission, those who appointed him should in every possible way help him in his work; and if, in the main, he be diligent and faithful, should" esteem him very highly in love for his work's sake." No one can have so earnest a desire for the efficiency of the work to which he is appointed as himself: his reputation, his happiness, his usefulness are all involved in its efficiency; and this should be considered when suggestions are offered which the proposer honestly believes to be valuable and important. Many complaints have been made during the last few years about the Academy, and serious doubts of its efficiency have been strongly expressed; but take the last fourteen years-the period during which it was under the Presidency of our venerable brother Wallis and how stand the facts? Are not some of our most important pulpits filled, and worthily filled too, by ministers that have left the Institution since 1843? Have the Home Mission stations which some of them have occupied, decayed and become extinct under their ministry, or exhibited a vitality and increase before unknown? Have the discourses preached for the last six years before the association indicated that piety, talent, and energy were departing from us? I devoutly bless God for many of our young ministers, and pray that they may be long spared to make full proof of their ministry. I believe that we never had so large an amount of sanctified ability and earnestness in the ministry amongst us as at the present time; and I rejoice to entertain this conviction. In comparing our Academy with older and larger institutions, it should be considered that many of our students (and some who have made excellent preachers) have, before entering, had very few advantages; and that in three years the same extended course cannot be pursued as in four or five. The wisdom of disparaging our own Institutions and operations appears to me extremely doubtful. I know what was the course of study pursued at Wisbech more than twenty-six years ago; and I have conversed with ministers who were trained at Seminaries of much greater note, and I will not shrink from the honest avowal of my opinion, that while they had literary and philosophical advantages beyond ours, we had more scriptural instruction in divinity. In those things which are of the greatest importance in preparing for the efficient discharge of the ministry, I believe that our advantages were not at all inferior to others. We were also much engaged in preaching during our career as students, and I am old-fashioned enough to think that this is of some importance. The more our students rub off the stiff, formal, measured language of class room sermons by contact with warm hearted christians at prayer meetings, by preaching in villages and wherever the Lord may open a door, the better. Let us, as far as we honestly can, speak well of our own Institution; and let those on whom its greatest responsibilities rest, be cheered under other discouragements by the assured persuasion that a generous christian confidence is reposed in them.

Let brethren be willing to sacrifice personal preferences for the good of the common cause. Supposing that all do not feel the same complacency in the arrangements recently made, yet all desire, no doubt, the prosperity of the Academy, and it should be a small matter to sacrifice private preferences for the furtherance of an important public object. When the voice of the connexion has been fairly expressed, it should be decisive, and we should "submit ourselves one to another in the fear of God." The union of the

two directions in 1 Peter, v. 5-" Yea all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility" suggests the thought, that subjection would not be so difficult as we sometimes find it, if we were attired in the lovely grace of humility.

Let discrimination be exercised in recommending students to the Committee. This is not sufficiently regarded. Many young men may be very useful in the Sabbath School, or at the prayer meeting, or as occasional preachers, that from their mediocrity of talent would never be efficient in the work of the stated ministry; and it is no kindness to such to send them to an Academical Institution. It is well to ask,-Is the piety of the candidate unquestionable and ardent? Has he a great thirst for knowledge? Is he apt at communicating knowledge as well as ready in acquiring it? Is he steady and persevering in applying to what he takes in hand? Has he a warm heart as well as a pretty ready tongue? Mistakes will occasionally be made after the greatest care has been exercised: some in fulfilling their ministry will exceed the expectations of their friends at the commencement; while the bright hopes cherished of others when leaving academic bowers will be dimmed as they pursue their course. Still let all proper care be exercised; and let every young man anxious for the ministry know, that if he do not acquire a habit of patient and close application, the labour of his preceptors will be in vain.

I have written much more than I intended, and will close by saying, with deep sentiments of respect for all parties, that, in my opinion, it would be an improvement if increased attention were paid to the study of the Hebrew language, also to the Greek of the New Testament, and the Septuagint. Also to Biblical Criticism and interpretation, guarding, of course, against the notion (than which a more dangerous one has never been broached) that the readers of the bible may regard as much or as little as they please as being divinely inspired. My reason for this opinion is, that as the young men have to go and preach what is in the book, they ought to know and understand it to the fullest extent practicable.

Praying that the blessing of heaven may follow the decisions of the last association, and that our School for the Prophets may be increasingly prosperous,

Cuttack, August 25, 1857.

Believe me, yours faithfully,

J. BUCKLEY.

AN OLD COTTAGE.

A REVERIE.

THE other day my attention was directed to an old cottage. It stood alone in a green lane, in the outskirts of a Lincolnshire village. The walls were as white as snow. Along the garden ran a low hedge of privet. A patch of ground in front of the window was surrounded by a border of daisies, and contained a variety of flowers, amongst others I observed a scarlet verbena, and a rich looking crimson dahlia. On one side of the door grew a jessamine, and on the other a monthly rose, and these intertwining their branches hung down gracefully over the lintel. A stolen glance into the interior

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shewed me a picture of neatness and order, and I was tempted to exclaim, "What a pleasant spot! How much comfort may be enjoyed here! What is there more attractive than the cottage homes of England! when my attention was directed to the roof, and the sight of this at once changed the current of my thoughts. I saw that the thatch was defective. The rats had made large holes in it; and portions of it had also been carried away by the wind, and no one had taken the trouble to replace them. And I could not help thinking of the coming winter, when the cold winds would blow through the openings and the rain pour into the chamber, and of the wretchedness which must be felt when a refuge and a home were most required.

Leaving the cottage behind me, I sauntered between the green hedgerows, musing on what had been seen, when the spirit of a dream gradually stole over me. A variety of objects arose before my mind's eye," and then vanished with that singular caprice so familiar in the visions of the night. There were strange fantasies; there were combinations of events which, in waking moments, appear to be far beyond the range of possibility. There seems in the review to be no means of accounting for the visions that flitted before me, and yet I cannot but perceive a mingling of the object so recently seen with trains of thought that had previously been indulged, though, as you will presently perceive, without any regard to propriety or order.

First, I seemed to be in the market-place of a certain town. One shop, or rather "establishment," drew me towards it. It was that of a grocer. There was everything to invite attention. The painting was fresh. The immense plate of brass, on which the name and the imposing term "company" were engraved, was as bright as burnished gold. The enamelled chests of tea formed an imposing array in the plate-glass window, and the samples of sugar were tastefully arranged and marked considerably below the market price. Every person employed was in a bustle, and even the shop boy seemed to say in his consequential air, "see, we are carrying all before us. I was just beginning to think "what a liberal firm this must be! It is not every company that will sell for less than it can buy! The resources here must be ample, and the ruling spirit one of pure philanthropy!" But presently a change passed over the scene, and there appeared singular characters among that which was so dazzling. Some seconds passed away before I could decipher them, but they were something like the following"Borrowed capital," "Nothing to risk;" and I fancied too there was the word "swindler," and then suddenly the pleasant scene vanished, and there "the old cottage." arose before me

I seemed then to be in New York. How the Atlantic had been crossed I never knew. However, there I was, elbowing my way through the crowd in "Broadway." I had not often witnessed a more animated scene. Store after store was passed, and every one exhibiting some new wonder. If the bills were to be believed, every dealer surpassed his neighbour, either in cheapness or in the excellence of his articles, or in the infinite variety of his wares. There was no lack of money. Goods were changing hands with amazing rapidity. The most costly articles of furniture and dress were dispatched every hour to some of the city mansions, or to the palacelike buildings which so thickly studded the suburbs. All things were on a gigantic scale, and every boy "guessed there was nothing like it in the old country." I was just about to exclaim "What a wealthy people!" 'No nation can surely go a-head like this!" when there was a whisper about

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high pressure," and "fictitious capital," and "dreadful panic in the money market,” and the brightness faded, and the scene changed, and there stood before me again the old cottage with the defective roof.

I appeared next to be in India. Whether I had reached it by the Cape of Good Hope, or by the Overland, I never knew. There, however, I was. All my previous views of oriental magnificence were more than realized. I thought within myself "Here are all the elements of a great empire. Here is a vast and fertile territory. The mass of the subjects are mild and gentle Hindoos. An ample revenue is collected without any warlike demonstration. Merchants are amassing such fortunes that they count their wealth by millions. An immense army of sepoys are clothed in European costume, and so paid and petted that they will never find in their heart to lift a finger against their rulers. There never existed such an empire! That of the great Mogul was mean in comparison! It surely must bid defiance to every rival power, and be as firm as the everlasting hills! I do not wonder it is called the brightest jewel in Victoria's crown! But just then there was a confused jumbling of ideas in my brain, and I can just remember the phrases "Idolatry patronized," "Christian teaching discountenanced," "Mutiny," "Delhi," Delhi," "Cawnpore," &c., when the whole scene, like the previous ones, vanished, and there arose again the image of the old cottage.

A totally different class of objects now passed in succession before me, which, though less dazzling, were certainly not less important than those which had preceeded.

I saw a youth. His appearance was such that every one who looked upon him loved him. That very day he was to leave his home. He was the son of fond parents. No one was ever more tenderly nurtured. There had been no cost spared in his education, and few youths of his age were more amiable and accomplished than he. He intended at some future time to serve the God of his father. His conscience had many times been aroused under the ministry, and one who watched him anxiously said that a tear sometimes moistened his eye, and he was "not far from the kingdom of God." The last morning in the home of his childhood had now arrived, and his father prayed that "the angel which redeemed him from all evil would bless the lad," and the mother breathed the earnest "Amen." Oh! how earnestly did they wish, while the sound of farewell was dying away, that their dear boy had placed himself under the care of Jesus. But, alas, he lacked the one thing, and I looked into the future and thought of home influence left behind, and a thousand temptations such as he had never dreamed of, alluring him into forbidden paths, and I wondered how this lovely vessel would endure the storm, when the whole scene slowly disappeared, and the old cottage again came into view.

He

I then saw a member of the church of Christ. He was a man in the prime of life. The moment he appeared my heart was drawn towards him. I had visited him on his proposal for baptism and fellowship. The very words he had uttered during our interview, vividly recurred to me. had said he was so unworthy that he was ashamed to offer himself to the church. He had lived so long without God and without Christ, he felt himself the chief of sinners; he trusted in the sacrifice of Jesus; he felt deeply his obligation to the Saviour; he loved him more than houses and land and brother and sister, and even life itself, and as he could not follow Jesus like Peter and James and John, he would consecrate himself, and all

he should ever possess to the service of the church, and with much earnestness he added "A poor offering in return for all the love of Jesus.' Some years had passed away since this pleasant interview, and his unexpected appearance delighted me. He was as intelligent as ever. He was conducting a flourishing business. His position in the church was retained, and he had been called to an honourable office. I was just going to say "What a valuable member. That man is an ornament to a church. The pastor must be greatly cheered who has such a fellow helper. But before a word escaped my lips there was a mysterious whispering from some one who was invisible. "Alas! he has greatly changed, he is not the same man he was when you first knew him. He has forgotten all his VOWS. He cares very little for the welfare of the church. He casts but a paltry sum into the treasury, though his property is accumulating. He is unwilling to undertake any service which involves the smallest sacrifice. He grumbles far more than he prays, and he makes no effort to improve, although his conscience tells him he is not doing his Master's will.' My heart was so affected that I turned to wipe away a tear that was rolling down my cheek, when the whispering ceased, and in the place of this church member I saw again the old cottage.

I next entered into a place of worship to listen to a popular minister. My attention was powerfully arrested, there was so much in him to admire. His voice was clear, his articulation distinct, his accent faultless, his logic sound, his rhetoric all that could be desired, and his manner was pleasing and earnest. It did not surprise me that the audience sat with apparent delight, and that while he discoursed on the verities of the gospel some were melted into tears, and others trembled under his searching appeals. Oh! how I did envy that man. I never doubted that he had "the testimony of a good conscience," and could almost hear the words addressed to him "well done, good and faithful servant," and see him " shining as a star for ever and ever." Suddenly however, I heard strange voices which made me shudder. There was much said that could not be understood, but I caught the sounds "his own vineyard he has not kept." "Having preached to others he himself may be a castaway." "He has his reward.' And the sanctuary vanished, and the clouds grew dark, and the lightnings flashed, and the earth was enveloped in flame, and the heavens were passing away. And I heard a shrill and piercing cry from many,- have we not prophesied in thy name, and in thy name cast out devils, and in thy name done many wonderful works?" And a reply came forth from the cloud, tender as the voice of a weeping mother, but awful as the rolling thunder, "I never knew you, depart from me ye that work iniquity." I saw no more. The approach of a traveller broke the mysterious and awful spell. The spirit of the dream left me. I determined to say to my friends "prepare for coming evils, never be satisfied with anything showy unless it be also secure. That you may be stimulated to prepare for the day of trial remember 66 An Old Cottage."

Louth.

W. O.