doo sages, together with a few ingenious commentaries upon texts of scripture; all of which, by some scientific process, have been converted into a mass like granite. The whole bog might be filled up with similar matter." from Plato, Confucius, and various Hin- | easy to judge that the feelings of the community had undergone a very favourable change, in reference to the celestial pilgrimage. It would have done Bunyan's heart good to see it. Instead of a lonely and ragged man, with a huge burden on his back, plodding along sorrowfully on foot, while the whole city hooted after him, here were parties of the first gentry and most respectable people in the neighbourhood, setting forth towards the Celestial City, as cheerfully as if the pilgrimage were merely a summer tour. Among the men of wealth, by whose example religion could not but be greatly recommended to their meaner brethren. In the ladies' apartment, too, I rejoiced to distinguish some of those flowers of fashionable society, who are so well fitted to adorn the most elevated circles of the Celestial City. There was much pleasant conversation about the news of the day, topics of business, politics, or the lighter matters of amusement; while religion, though indubitably the main thing at heart, was thrown tastefully into the back-ground. Even an infidel would have heard little or nothing to shock his sensibility. It really seemed to me, however, that the bridge vibrated and heaved up and down, in a very formidable manner; and, in spite of Mr. Smooth-it-away's testimony to the solidity of its foundation, I should be loth to cross it in a crowded omnibus, especially if each passenger were encumbered with as heavy luggage gentlemen were characters of deserved as that gentleman and myself. Never-eminence, magistrates, politicians, and theless, we got over without accident, and soon found ourselves at the stationhouse. This very neat and spacious edifice is erected on the site of the little Wicket-Gate, which formerly, as all old pilgrims will recollect, stood directly across the highway; and, by its inconvenient narrowness, was a great obstruction to the traveller of liberal mind and expansive stomach. The reader of John Bunyan will be glad to know, that Christian's old friend Evangelist, who was accustomed to supply each pilgrim with a mystic roll, now presides at the ticket-office. Some malicious persons, it is true, deny the identity of this reputable character with the Evangelist of old times, and even pretend to bring competent evidence of an imposture. Without involving myself in the dispute, I shall merely observe, that, so far as my experience goes, the square pieces of pasteboard now delivered to passengers, are much more convenient and useful along the road than the antique roll of parchment. Whether they will be as readily received at the gate of the Celestial City, I decline giving an opinion. A large number of passengers were already at the station-house, waiting the departure of the cars. By the aspect and demeanour of the persons, it was One great convenience of the new method of going on pilgrimage I must not forget to mention. Our enormous burdens, instead of being carried on our shoulders, as had been the custom of old, were all snugly deposited in the baggage-car, and, as I was assured, would be delivered to their respective owners at the journey's end. Another thing likewise, the benevolent reader will be delighted to understand. It may be remembered that there was an ancient feud between Prince Beelzebub and the keeper of the Wicket-Gate, and that the adherents of the former distinguished personage were accustomed to shoot deadly arrows at honest pilgrims, while knocking at the door. This dispute, much to the credit as well of the illustrious potentate above mentioned as of the worthy and enlightened directors of the railroad, has been pacifically arranged on the principle of mutual compromise. The Prince's subjects are now pretty numerously employed about the station-house-some in taking care of the baggage, others in collecting fuel, feeding the engines, and such congenial occupations; and I can conscientiously affirm, that persons more attentive to their business, more willing to accommodate, or more generally agreeable to the passengers, are not to be found on any railroad. Every good heart must surely exult at so satisfactory an arrangement of an immemorial difficulty. "Where is Mr. Great-heart?" inquired I. "Beyond a doubt, the directors have engaged that famous old champion to be chief conductor on the railroad!” "Why, no," said Mr. Smooth-it-away, with a dry cough. "He was offered the situation of brake-man; but to tell the truth, our friend Great-heart has grown preposterously stiff and narrow in his old age. He has so often guided pilgrims over the road on foot, that he considers it a sin to travel in any other fashion. Besides, the old fellow had entered so heartily into the ancient feud with Prince Beelzebub, that he would have been perpetually at blows or ill language with some of the prince's subjects, and thus have embroiled us anew. So, on the whole, we were not sorry when honest Great-heart went off to the Celestial City in a huff, and left us at liberty to choose a more suitable and accommodating man. Yonder comes the conductor of the train. You will probably recognize him at once." The engine at this moment took its station in advance of the cars, looking, I must confess, much more like a sort of mechanical demon that would hurry us to the infernal regions, than a laudable contrivance for smoothing our way to the Celestial City. On its top sat a personage almost enveloped in smoke and flame, which-not to startle the reader appeared to gush from his own mouth and stomach, as well as from the engine's brazen abdomen. "Do my eyes deceive me?” cried I.— "What on earth is this! A living creature? if so, he is own brother to the engine that he rides upon!" Poh, poh, you are obtuse!" said Mr. Smooth-it-away, with a hearty laugh. "Don't you know Apollyon, Christian's old enemy, with whom he fought so fierce a battle in the Valley of Humiliation? He was the very fellow to manage the engine; and so we have reconciled him to the custom of going on pilgrimage, and engaged him as chief conductor." "Bravo, bravo!" exclaimed I, with irrepressible enthusiasm, "this shows the liberality of the age; this proves, if anything can, that all musty prejudices are in a fair way to be obliterated. And how will Christian rejoice to hear of this happy transformation of his old antago nist! I promise myself great pleasure in informing him of it, when we reach the Celestial City." The passengers being all comfortably seated, we now rattled away merrily, accomplishing a greater distance in ten minutes than Christian probably trudged over in a day. It was laughable while we glanced along, as it were, at the tail of a thunderbolt, to observe two dusty foot-travellers, in the old pilgrim guise, with cockleshell and staff, their mystic rolls of parchment in their hands, and their intolerable burdens on their backs. The preposterous obstinacy of these honest people in persisting to groan and stumble along the difficult pathway, rather than take advantage of modern improvements, excited great mirth among our wiser brotherhood. We greeted the two pilgrims with many pleasant gibes and a roar of laughter; | rich in many things esteemed precious whereupon, they gazed at us with such woful and absurdly compassionate visages, that our merriment grew ten fold more obstreperous. Apollyon also entered heartily into the fun, and contrived to flirt the smoke and flame of the engine, or of his own breath, into their faces, and envelope them in an atmosphere of scalding steam. These little practical jokes amused us mightily, and doubtless afforded the pilgrims the gratification of considering themselves martyrs. At some distance from the railroad, Mr. Smooth-it-away pointed to a large antique edifice, which, he observed, was a tavern of long standing, and had formerly been a noted stopping-place for pilgrims. In Bunyan's road-book it is mentioned as the Interpreter's House. "I have long had a curiosity to visit that old mansion," remarked I. "It is not one of our stations, as you perceive," said my companion. "The keeper was violently opposed to the railroad; and well he might be, as the track left his house of entertainment on one side, and thus was pretty certain to deprive him of all his reputable customers. But the footpath still passes his door; and the old gentleman now and then receives a call from some simple traveller, and entertains him with fare as old fashioned as himself." Before our talk on this subject came to a conclusion, we were rushing by the place where Christian's burden fell from his shoulders at the sight of the Cross. This served as a theme for Mr. Smoothit-away, Mr. Live-for-the-world, Mr. Hide-sin-in-the-heart, and Mr. Scalyconscience, and a knot of gentlemen from the town of Shun-repentance, to descant upon the inestimable advantages resulting from the safety of our baggage. Myself, and all the passengers indeed, joined with great unanimity in this view of the matter; for our burdens were throughout the world; and, especially, we each of us possessed a great variety of favourite habits, which we trusted would not be out of fashion, even in the polite circles of the Celestial City. It would have been a sad spectacle to see such an assortment of valuable articles tumbling into the sepulchre. Thus pleasantly conversing on the favourable circumstances of our position, as compared with those of past pilgrims, and of narrow-minded ones at the present day, we soon found ourselves at the foot of the Hill Difficulty. Through the very heart of this rocky mountain a tunnel has been constructed of a most admirable architecture, with a lofty arch and a spacious double track; so that, unless the earth and rocks should chance to crumble down, it will remain an eternal monument of the builder's skill and enterprise. It is a great though incidental advantage, that the materials from the heart of the Hill Difficulty have been employed in filling up the Valley of Humiliation; thus obviating the necessity of descending into that disagreeable and unwholesome hollow. "This is a wonderful improvement, indeed," said I. "Yet I should have been glad of an opportunity to visit the Palace Beautiful, and be introduced to the charming young ladies-Miss Prudence, Miss Piety, Miss Charity, and the rest-who have the kindness to entertain pilgrims there." (To be continued.) THE STUDY OF THE SCRIPTURES. MR. G. B. PARSONS, late missionary to India, having been whilst in his native land, more benefited usually by connected expositions of scripture, than by sermons on detached passages, commenced, chiefly for the benefit of the people to whom he ministered, the preparation of an expository course on the epistle to the Colossians. In this em ployment he spent a portion of every day, while his bodily health was declining. The exercise, says his biographer, had the most delightful effect on his own mind. Often would he exclaim, "If I am never to deliver these discourses to others, I am abundantly blessed in the light and joy which are daily poured into my own bosom." A HINT TO THE READERS OF USEFUL BOOKS. I WILL here mention, says the biogra- | God; and while he was upon his knees, pher of the Rev. Henry Venn, a striking instance of the wonderful manner in which God will sometimes supply the wants of his servants when they duly trust in him. At a period of very pressing difficulty, when a tradesman was importunate for the payment of his bill, Mr. Venn had no resource left but with earnest supplication to make his wants known unto a letter was brought enclosing a bank note of £50, with an anonymous address, saying, " Having received great benefit from your Complete Duty of Man,' (which was just then published), I beg you to accept this small acknowledgment." Mr. Venn could never discover to whom he was indebted for this seasonable benefaction. TIME AND ETERNITY. Hast thou number'd the drops of pearly dew Hast thou reckon'd the days of the years gone by, Wherever the foot of man hath trod, In their graves underneath the verdant sod? Hast thou roam'd through the deep sea's wide domain, Hast thou number'd the sighs that sad hearts have heaved, Hast thou counted the sands that have yet to run, Of things past, present, and yet to come. There are numbers yet that no tongue can tell. No, not by earth, or air, or sea, Can ye measure the days of eternity; Which the ear hath heard, or the eye hath seen; Can glance to the verge of that realm of light; This, this is the chorus deep, loud, and strong, While the regions of darkness from shore to shore, It comes, it comes, for in yonder sky And soon the waters of Time will be Lost 'mid the waves of Eternity. Where is the year just now pass'd away, Whose funeral knell seems yet to say, "We shall meet again at the trumpet's call, When the rocks shall flee and the mountains fall ?" At that great dread hour of destiny We yet shall meet, when from land and sea The dead shall arise and together stand With the living of every tribe and land, A countless host, near the great white throne, For perchance "this" may be thy year to die! W. |