his happiness, and do his best to bring his country and his race at large to share the rich repast. And in proportion as Christianity becomes the law and life of the world, must all that is pure and holy, all that is sweet and joyous, become the lot of its inhabitants."

The above extracts from my REVIEW were published some few years ago. They show what my feelings were at that time. I am still happier now, and I am more in love with Christ and Christianity.

A few more Testimonies from Unbelievers.

Professor Huxley says: "It is, and always has been, a favourite tenet of mine, that Atheism is as absurd, logically speaking, as Polytheism."

David Hume said: "I am affrighted and confounded with that forlorn solitude in which I am placed by my philosophy, and begin to fancy myself in the most deplorable condition imaginable, environed with the deepest darkness."

He

Renan, another Atheist, speaks of life as not worth having, and doubts whether it will ever be any better. He has doubts as to the future progress of our race. acknowledges that his infidel philosophy has robbed men of joy, and hope, and ardour of affection, and grand and cheering views of the future, and questions whether it will ever give back what it takes away. All is darkness and despair.

Abauzit, writing to Rousseau, says, "If you wish tranquillity for the future, believe my lengthened experience; employ the powers you have executed in the service of doubt, in the reconstruction of your faith. After having searched a long time, we bless our labours when they lead us to believe."

Feuerbach, the German Atheist, says: "The thought and the action of life have ended in making me weary. Let me cease to be."

I meant, if I had had space, to have given a number of cases of persons who have been reclaimed from doubt or unbelief through my instrumentality.

We have many things to say on other subjects, but all must be postponed. God bless you, my readers, and grant you the unspeakable happiness of a Christian life, and a blessed immortality.

I conclude with the following quotations:

"When, urged by strong temptation, on the brink
Of guilt and ruin stands the virtuous mind,
With scarce a step between, all-pitying Heaven,
Severe in mercy, chastening in its love,
Ofttimes, in dark and awful visitation,
Doth interpose, and lead the wanderer back
To the straight path, to be for ever after
A firm, undaunted, onward-bearing traveller,
Strong in humility, to swerve no more.

JOANNA BAILLIE.

"Once on the raging seas I rode,

The storm was loud,-the night was dark,
The ocean yawned-and rudely blowed
The wind that toss'd my found'ring bark.

"Deep horror then my vitals froze ;

Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem;
When suddenly a star arose,-

It was the star of Bethlehem.

"It was my guide, my light, my all;
It bade my dark forebodings cease;
And thro' the storm and danger's thrall,
It led me to the
port of peace.

"Now safely moor'd-my perils o'er,
I'll sing, first in night's diadem,
For ever and for evermore,

The star! The star of Bethlehem."

AFTER making the necessary arrangements for leaving England and finally settling in America, Mr. Barker parted from his numerous friends with many a sorrowful word and cheery hope. The following letters sent to one of his friends will be read with interest

We left Liverpool in the Idaho on March 13th, 1874, and reached New York on Thursday, March 28th, and, starting the same day for Omaha, got here on Sunday the 31st. We had, on the whole, a favourable voyage, though the winds for many days were contrary, and for two or three days rather violent. I never came so near enjoying a voyage in my life, after the first five days. have always looked upon the time spent in crossing the ocean as so many days spent in purgatory, and the only part of the passage in which I found any pleasure was the ending of it, going ashore. But in the present case I found myself in a happier condition. For one thing, we had large and very comfortable rooms, free from all offensive smells, and well supplied with fresh air. In the second place, we had a comfortable saloon, kept, for most of the time, pleasantly warm. Then the captain was the most agreeable man I ever travelled with, either by land or sea. He was as kind as heart could wish, and about as sensible, earnest, and unaffected a Christian as one could hope to find. He was, besides, an abstainer both from intoxicating drinks and tobacco. He was

always in his sober senses, and kept all around him and under his authority pretty much in the same happy state. I saw not the slightest sign of drunkenness either in any of the officers or in any of the crew. And even the emigrants-the steerage passengers-were decently behaved.

On Sunday, the 17th, the captain read prayers, and I preached. I should have preferred to be silent on account of the feeble state of my health; but the captain was importunate, and he was so kind to everybody, as well as to me and mine, that I could do no other than comply 'with his request. We had a large audience, and a happy time. On the following Sabbath the weather was too rough to allow us to have service. Two books that I met with on board helped to lessen the tediousness of the voyage; one, Hugh Miller's "Account of My Schools and Schoolmasters;" the other, Dr. Myer's "Lectures on Great Men." The latter I read with especial pleasure. One-half the matter in Hugh Miller's work would have been better in a separate book on geology.

The day we arrived at New York was a warm and sunny one, which made it much more easy for us to get through our work in the city. We got our immense pile of luggage through the Custom-house without any trouble, and got it conveyed to the Express Company's office and the railway depot without delay. At half-past eight we started for Omaha in one of Pullman's Palace Sleeping Cars on the Pennsylvania Central Railroad. We travelled along through the darkness at the rate of twenty-five and thirty miles an hour, sleeping meanwhile in our warm and comfortable beds. When we awoke we were creeping up the eastern slopes of the Alleghany Mountains. Before eight o'clock we were at Altona, the City of the Mountains, where time was allowed for breakfast. Then we began to climb the steeper grades, and round the sharper curves, of the loftier hills, which were covered with snow. The day was as bright and warm as the day preceding, but the climate of those upper regions was much colder. The scenery was magnificent. By eleven o'clock we were at Pittsburgh. Before twelve we were in Ohio, and before dark we were at Alliance, where we had supper, for which the most bountiful provision had been made. Then off we started again, travelling in our comfortable beds, and finding ourselves on awaking passing through the barrens and swamps of the most uninteresting portion of Michigan. Before nine o'clock. we were passing in an omnibus through the most

appalling and saddening scene of ruin and desolation I ever saw. On all sides along the road on which we were travelling, I had once seen a vast, a busy, and a magnificent city. Now, as far as the eye could reach, there was hardly a vestige of the city to be seen. All had been destroyed by the wasting fire. I had read of the disaster in the papers and in private letters, and supposed that I had formed something like a correct idea of the terrible catastrophe, but now I found that the melancholy horrors of the dread reality exceeded beyond measure the image that had been impressed on my mind. The sight was awful and distressing in the extreme.

Soon after we left Chicago it began to rain. Towards evening the lightnings began to flash and the thunders to roar; and the rain turned to snow, and the summerlike warmth of the weather gave place to a sharp and biting frost. We crossed the Mississippi, and entered Iowa after dark, and before daylight next morning we had reached the Missouri River, the western boundary of the state. When I and my son first visited Nebraska we travelled in a stage coach, and were ten days and ten nights in crossing Iowa: now we crossed it in eight hours. My eldest son met us on the Iowa side of the river, and my younger son was waiting for us on the Nebraska side, and we were soon all seated in their warm and comfortable home. When I first settled in Omaha, sixteen years ago, the place could boast but three or four decent houses; now it had come to be quite a considerable city. And it was curious to note the population-Americans, Germans, and Irish were heard and seen everywhere; while every now and then you passed an African, an Indian, or a Chinese.

We reached Omaha on Sunday, the 31st of March, just sixteen years after getting our first sight of the place. On the Tuesday I went out to our farm, from four to five miles north-west of the city, and here, with the exception of a day or two, I have remained, planting trees when the weather would permit. The spring is backward and the weather has been cold, so that I have not been able to `get along with my work as fast as I expected; still, I have planted some hundreds of forest and fruit trees, and put in over a thousand cuttings. I planted over two