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can estimate the worth of these figures? Who can say how much hard work in the cause of the Redeemer they represent? How many sermons have been preached? How many prayers have been offered? How many tears have been shed in secret? How many private entreaties have been resorted to, in order to secure these results? we read the figures, our truant thoughts refuse to stay at home. They fly over the whole denomination, and, in homes and sanctuaries, are silent spectators of many a solemn scene. They see ministers in their studies, praying, on their knees before their open bibles, not only for light, but for "power from on high," that their carefully sought-out words may be as goads, and as nails fastened by the Master of assemblies." They see assemblies of our brethren listening reverently to God's word, and sending up silent prayers the while that the earnest faithful message may not only instruct and inspire them, but also disperse the doubts of the anxious and wavering, and arouse the slumbering consciences of the careless. They attend at once hundreds of meetings for prayer, where the invisible incense, from the rich censers of faithful hearts, is ascending before the ministering angels and our ever-present great High Priest. They are present too at a thousand family altars, and hear there, among the prayers for family blessings, petitions, earnest as that of Jacob at Peniel, that the set time to favour Zion may come, and that the soldiers of the cross may find their numbers swelling, and their conquests increasing with every endeavour to fight manfully the battles of the Lord. In addition to these scenes there are those private communings and wrestlings with God which are too sacred for us to attempt to picture them here; there are letters being written after much anxious thought and prayer; meetings planned, and schemes judiciously laid, and testing words nervously uttered, and a score of other means being used in imitation of that wise apostle who could say to the Corinthians:-"Being crafty I caught you with guile."

And if the thoughts let loose see so much of means, what may they behold of results? Think of the household gladness, the songs of pious thankfulness, the tears of joyful satisfaction, the stimulus to faith and hope, and the

redoubled energy which this ingathering of souls has caused! And if the vail which hides the world of spirits from our view might be drawn aside, how much more might we see? If there be joy among the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth, how much rejoicing has there been over these 1,201! In addition to these, we have seen 174 souls "restored" to our fellowship. If the Good Shepherd leaves the ninety-nine sheep in the wilderness to go after the one that is lost, and when, He has found it, carries it home rejoicing, how pleasant to think of this repeated 174 times! How much joy have these restorations given to all who, while they bore the likeness of the Good Shepherd, have witnessed or aided in the return of these straying ones! 174 times has the glad shout been heard-"For this my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found." As a denomination we should join heartily in that shout, and over this ingathering of 1,467 souls, we should let our songs of praise be both loud and long. Small as the increase is, compared with our decrease of a few years ago, it is a cause for both hope and joy. We were like a crew in imminent danger of shipwreck, but more than once have we been assured that the danger is past and our brave ship rides the waves in safety. "The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad." Let us thank God and take courage."

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Pardon us, brethren, if our earnest desire that we may continue to increase urges us to say a little more, not quite so cheering in its character. The question will rise in the mind, Why have we not much more to rejoice over? Have we done all we could? To this latter question we must reply in the negative. We will not say much respecting the chapel building, and debt-paying, or general money collecting that have been done, beyond the assertion of a belief that, as a denomination, we have not yet half developed our powers of giving. Some individuals and some churches give nobly, but the reverse of this would be true of some others. We prefer, however, to confine our considerations to our numerical increase, assured of this, that if the evangelistic spirit were more prevalent in our churches, the moneygiving spirit would develop propor

A Year of Work for God.

tionately. As a rule, it is the zealous worker who is the liberal, cheerful giver.

We find that the proportion of new members to the old ones among us is about as one to fifteen. In other words, it has taken fifteen members of Christ's church a whole year to bring one soul to Him. Fifteen fishermen have been a whole year in taking one fish! What would Peter or Andrew, or the sons of Zebedee have thought of this? Would they not have deemed it a more painful experience than that which once led them to say despondingly,-"Master, we have toiled all the night and have taken nothing?" One man has been able for a whole year to withstand fifteen Christian soldiers! What would Paul have said to this? Or what would he have said who told the hosts of Israel when taking his leave of them, that because the Lord was on their side, "five of them should chase a hundred, and a hundred of them should put ten thousand to flight?”

Once, the whole church of Christ was so small that its members could all meet together in one place. But there and then 3,000 souls were added to their number. Now the church has so extended her borders that one small section, numbers 21,000 people, but these 21,000 have laboured a whole year and have gained less than 1,500

more.

But have these 21,000 worked a whole year? In saying that they have we were rather stating what should be, than what is. No very keen sight is needed to discover the fact that the work has been done by but a few out of that number. What we now state is not inconsistent with what we have already said, viz., that we have great cause for joy. We have reaped abundantly in proportion to our sowing, but we have proved the truthfulness of the declaration-"He that soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly." The lamentable fact is that it is only the few in our churches that are in earnest. The few do the work. The few feel the responsibility while the many are content to remain cyphers. Their names are in the church books, they themselves are sometimes in their pews, and some of them seek to atone for their lack of service by larger gifts to the church's funds. But many neither work nor give. "Brethren these things

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ought not so to be." Why have we not doubled our numbers during the past year? It only needed that each member should secure one other. Treating men as money, we ought to increase at the rate of 100 per cent. compound interest. There are those who bring their dozens to Christ. "Thank God for such!" Say we. "Thank God! 66 say the saved ones themselves. "Thank God!" Say the rejoicing Angels. But there are those who know not the luxury of leading a fellow creature to the enjoyment of God's special favour. "Spots are they and blemishes." Yea, they are worse, for they unconsciously help the world in its excuses and opposition. amount of catering for the intellects of the people will excuse us from earnestly seeking to arouse these sleepy ones, and to save the souls of the masses. It is quite possible to pamper the dainty appetite with literary luxuries instead of urging to health-producing activity, until we all become spiritual dyspeptics.

No

The past is beyond remedy, and we have no desire to evoke useless regrets. The future is ours. Let us imitate the first Christians, and we shall more than double our numbers during this year. We have just been reminded specially of our fathers and forefathers. Their spirits have seemed to rebuke us. Let us emulate their zeal and we shall obtain like success. Campbell encourages the mariners of England by telling them:

"The spirit of your fathers shall start from every wave,

For the deck it was their field of fame, and the ocean was their grave;

Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, your manly hearts shall glow,

As ye sweep through the deep, when the stormy winds do blow."

And shall not we, who have a worthier cause to excite our valour, let the spirits of our brave fathers, who fought a more desperate foe, and sailed over a wilder sea, inspirit us to a holier daring and more heroical achievements? Our arms are superior to theirs. We have near us, intellectual chassepôts and needle guns which they knew nothing of; while the same spiritual forces are at our disposal. But no arms will make up for the absence of their spirit. Their spirit was an aggressive one. Their bravery was of the indomitable type. Let us show ourselves worthy sons of such sires. We have every

thing to encourage us. Our warfare is not like that which is now devastating Europe with misery and woe, but it is one which brings blessedness to every body engaging in it. "The weapons of our warfare are not carnal." Our success is guaranteed. The enemy is active, and the time is short, let us seek out some brave and manly task by which we may distinguish ourselves. "The people that do know their God shall be strong and do exploits!" May

every minister say to his people, as did Jonathan to his armour-bearer: "Come, and let us go over to the garrison of these uncircumcised; it may be that the Lord will work for us: for there is no restraint to the Lord to save by many or by few." And may every individual in the church reply: "Do all that is in thine heart: Turn thou; behold, I am with thee according to thy heart." Then will next year's review be a song of victory.

RAMBLES AMONG THE LAKES.*

BY THE REV. G. HESTER.

THE next morning being Saturday, I determined not to go very far away, but to get a good view of Grasmere itself and the immediate neighbourhood. The morning was beautifully fine, but the place presented a peculiar and remarkable appearance, owing to the fact that the morning was with us such a long time before the sun actually rose over the mountains. My hostess having provided me a simple breakfast, I started for my day's excursion. I passed the little ancient church, and the churchyard where Wordsworth, his wife, sister, and Hartley Coleridge are buried; left Allanbank-where both Wordsworth and Arnold resided for a time, and where Coleridge wrote his Friend-to the right, and followed the path which leads under the hillside. Here you get a most charming view of the lake and village. As I was proceeding along this path, I saw a man before me standing under a shady tree. He was in his shirt sleeves, and I found that he was engaged in building a house for a clergyman between the path and the lake. As I came up to him he gave me a very hearty "Good morning," and seemed inclined to talk. He was not a native of Grasmere, but had lived in it for more than thirty years. He had done all the building, or nearly all, in the place for a quarter of a century. He told me that he knew Wordsworth well, also Hartley Coleridge, Dr. Arnold, and most of the lake celebrities. He was well acquainted with De Quincey, and taking out his watch I saw De Quincey's name upon it.

He grew quite enthusiastic and eloquent when speaking of Dr. Arnold; said that he was the finest man he had ever seen; had often heard him preach in the little church at Grasmere; and seen him trudging over the mountains with his fine boys. Having bidden my communicative friend good morning, I went on till I came to some private grounds, through which I obtained permission to walk; and on the other side of these I came to Loughrigg Terrace. From this elevated spot you get one of the finest views of the lake and the village of Grasmere. The scene presented from this mountain terrace is one of surpassing beauty. It is said that it was this view that called from Mrs. Hemans her beautiful sonnet, entitled

A REMEMBRANCE OF GRASMERE.

"O vale and lake, within your mountain urn,
Smiling so tranquilly, and set so deep!
Oft doth your dreamy loveliness return,
Colouring the tender shadows of my sleep
With light Elysian;-for the hues that steep
Your shores in melting lustre, seem to float
On golden clouds from spirit-lands remote,
Isles of the blest ;-and in our memory keep
Their place with holiest harmonies. Fair scene,
Most loved by evening and her dewy star!
Oh! ne'er may man, with touch unhallowed, jar
The perfect music of the charm serene!
Still, still unchanged, may one sweet region wear
Smiles that subdue the soul to love, and tears,
and prayer."

Following the path that leads along this mountain side, and keeping to the right, you come to Fox Ghyl, one of the most romantic and charming spots in the lake district. At a very little distance from Fox Ghyl is Fox How, the beautiful residence of the late Dr. Arnold. The gardens and lawn before *Concluded from page 241.

Rambles among the Lakes.

the house are laid out with great taste, and were kept in exquisite order when I passed them in the summer. There was merry laughter coming from his grandchildren playing at croquet on the green grass. Here Dr. Arnold spent some of his happiest days. Here he wrote much of his Roman History. Here his mind gathered freshness and power after fagging with his boys at Rugby.

The path leading by Fox How, conducts you over a bridge to Ambleside. It was the middle of the day when I got into the town. After dinner I went to see Stock Ghyl Force. Here are four waterfalls, all of which can be seen some distance before you get to them. The water falls a distance of seventy feet, and makes a considerable noise as it leaps over the rocks. These falls are a great point of attraction to all visitors.

Having seen this interesting sight I again took the footpath leading past Fox How, Fox Ghyl, and went to Rydal Mount, and spent a little time in walking round the grounds in which stands the beautiful residence of the late poet Wordsworth. He came to reside here in 1813, and here he lived with his excellent wife and his admirable sister till he died in 1850. The house stands back from the public road a short distance. You turn to your right up a lane to come to the entrance. The house itself is in a great measure hidden among the trees and shrubs which surround it. It has a kind of double frontage; the longer and larger front looking towards Windermere, and the smaller one looking towards the mountains that rise up at the back of Ambleside.

It was about six o'clock in the evening when I left Rydal Mount, and my next object was to ascend Nab Scar, a bold little mountain between Rydal and Grasmere. Having been on my feet nearly the whole of the day, and the weather being intensely hot, I found the ascent up this mountain difficult and trying. I succeeded, however, in reaching the top. The view from this point is one of great loveliness and magnificence. The sun in his full-orbed splendour was just sinking behind the opposite mountains. I could see seven sheets of water shining like little silver seas in the outstretching landscape. To my left

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was Windermere-the queen of the lakes; just before me, at the foot of Nab Scar, was Rydal water; and to my right the ever beautiful Grasmere lake. Higher up in the mountains were three smaller lakes, called tarns. Here one might linger for hours gazing on this scene of beauty and sublimity. But the shades of evening were beginning to fall. My desire now was to reach my lodgings at Grasmere by the nearest route. Not far from where I was standing was a wall which appeared to lead down to the bottom of the fell on the Grasmere side. I determined to follow this wall. Having got about one-third of the distance down the mountain, I could get no further. The wall comes to a termination at the edge of a precipitous rock. What was I to do now? The darkness was falling. I felt too tired to go back the way I had come. To go forward was death. I had no refreshment. I felt a little alarmed, and thought I must abide there all night. But looking across the breast of the mountain, I could see the slope on the other side which leads down to Rydal. I determined to make the attempt to walk across the front of the mountain, and try and gain that slope. I found this walk exceedingly difficult. Large stones lie on all hands, and the front part is exceedingly steep. I got to about the middle of the mountain, and found a channel which had been worn by the rain and the sliding of the loose stones. Standing in this channel, I could see to the bottom, and I felt that with care it was possible to get down. After efforts in various attitudes of body, I succeeded in reaching the bottom. It was now quite dark. A wall six feet high was before me. I walked on the side of it till I came to a gate. This opened into a field. Passing through this field, I came to another wall nearly as high as the first. I found an opening through this. I then came into a gentleman's private grounds, through which I hastened as fast as I could. I then reached the last wall, which ran along the side of the public road; and glad enough was I when I leapt from it into the king's highway. Weary and exhausted, I went across the road to the lake, which now reflected the stars and the surrounding hills. Here I refreshed myself with water, which

was quite warm from the extreme heat of the sun during the day. I sat down to ruminate on my past adventure. Three lessons forced themselves on my mind. First, never go on a mountain alone. Second, never go without carrying refreshment with you. Third, never begin an ascent in the evening of the day unless you mean to stay all night. My business now was to get to my lodgings, and to get to rest as soon as possible. I found the walk very lonely, but I reached Grasmere safely, and found my good hostess in a state of wonder as to what had become of me.

The weather being very sultry, I left my window open when I went to bed; but in the night I was awoke by a noise, and I found the winds howling through the mountains. A thunderstorm had changed the temperature of the atmosphere, and from extreme heat it had become suddenly cold. Sunday morning found me weary and somewhat stiff from the excitement and toils of yesterday.

In the morning I went to Rydal church; and as I walked along the road under Nab Scar, and looked up at the wall and at the rugged rock on which it terminates, I felt how dangerous had been my position. The church at Rydal is a small building erected in 1820 by Lady Fleming. It will hold about two hundred people. Having come before service

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menced, I asked the sexton to point me out Wordsworth's pew. He did so, and at the same time shewed me where the late Dr. Arnold and his family used to sit. At the east end of the church is a large window with a margin of stained glass. This window forms a kind of recess, which, railed off, makes a small chancel. On each side of this recess is a pulpit, and under each pulpit is a large square pew. One of these square pews was occupied by Wordsworth and his family, and the other by Dr. Arnold and his family. The sexton put me in the minister's pew, which joins the Arnold family pew. In a short time an elderly and venerable lady made her appearance with quite a train of followers. This lady was Mrs. Arnold, seventy-five years of age. With her was her son, Matthew Arnold, his wife and family, also her daughter, and others, probably her grandchildren.

Mr. Matthew Arnold sat in Wordsworth's pew, and Miss Arnold and some of the children came into the pew where I was sitting, as there was no room for them in their own pew. The prayers were read by a late curate of Ambleside, and the sermon preached by the vicar of Rydal.

was

In the afternoon I went to the old parish church at Ambleside. The church was rebuilt in 1812, and is exceedingly plain. There was nothing very note-worthy in the service. In the graveyard is a tombstone commemorating the life and virtues of Rev. J. Dawes, who was the schoolmaster of Hartley and Derwent Coleridge.

In the evening I went back to Grasmere, and attended the church which is more celebrated than any other church in the mountains. It is dedicated to St. Oswald, and some parts of it are said to be very ancient. The architecture and some of the internal wood-work is very rude. It contains a beautiful marble tablet to the memory of Wordsworth. The congregation was large, the church being quite full.

So passed the Sunday, August 29, 1869. The weather now being damp and cold, I purposed on the Sabbath evening to leave my cottage in the morning, and return to Morecambe, where I had left some of my friends; but when the morning came there was quite a change again in the appearance of the heavens. I therefore altered my plan, and started off to see the farfamed Derwentwater. This lake is close to Keswick, and is thirteen miles from Grasmere. The walk out of Grasmere towards Keswick is exceed

This

ingly fine. You pass between lofty mountains-Helmcrag on the one side, and Seat Sandal on the other. For three miles the road ascends, and as you reach the top of the ascent, and turn round, you see the entire village of Grasmere, except the church, which is hidden by Butterlip How. ridge forms the watershed of the lake district, and divides the two counties of Westmoreland and Cumberland. The road now leads you through mountains of the wildest description. About half way to Keswick you come to the beautiful lake called Thirlmere. It is about two miles long, but extremely narrow in some parts. Some very bold and rugged crags rise up

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