ed, and then only for inevitable reasons he preached for the last time in the beginning of June 1827; it was then ascertained that he was afflicted with a dropsy in the chest, and that it would prove mortal. He retained however, the use of his faculties to the last, and was able to receive the numerous visits of his friends, and to talk of that Saviour in whom he placed his hopes, to their mutual edification. On the 21st of July, it became evident that his strength was failing him, the last words that could be collected from his lips were these, During my long life I have always found that the Lord is faithful. His friends, who were watching his departure, together with the pupils of the Missionary House, surrounded the bed, and to respond to his joy, they began in a low voice, two verses of a hymn, expressive of the death of the Christian; when they had finished, they turned toward him, but his spirit had fled.

Joenicke at the time of his death, was aged seventy-nine years and a few days. He had been so far favoured in respect of health and strength, that it might almost be said of him, as of Moses, that "his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated;" towards the close of his life he is described as entering the pulpit at seven o'clock on a December morning, to preach in German, and returning two hours after to preach again in the Bohemian dialect. It is said that the present King of Prussia went once on purpose to hear him, and that he preferred the simple and occasionally common language of the humble Jœnicke, because he found in it an edification which a more elegant style could not have conveyed, unless it had been equally evangelical in its matter.

What has been remarked of Henry Martyn, that there was a well-proportioned symmetry in his religious character, may be applied

to Jœnicke. He was the same man in the pulpit and out of it, a connection too little preserved by many, who suffer " strangers to devour their strength,' by pursuing objects uncongenial with their calling. At the beginning of his sermon, he usually announced the divisions he intended, but did. not always tie himself down to them; this however is mentioned as a trait in his manner, and not by way of recommendation; he always spoke from the impulse of his heart, and blended with his sermons such anecdotes as he thought illustrative and edifying, which practice it may be observed, is calculated to engage the attention of the young. He always spoke of the Saviour, or to the Saviour; by which one is led to understand, that he used the law in its proper character of a schoolmaster, to bring the souls of men unto Christ.t The great object of his preaching was to declare the excellency of Him who has called us out of darkness into his marvellous light. This is a singular man, (said a person who saw him in his last years) he knows how to speak of nothing but the Saviour; a remark which naturally reminds us of St. John's reputed daily exhortation, Love the brethren.'

Joenicke was as simple in his mode of life as in his sermons. He did not disdain the humblest occupations, if he could be of service to his parishioners; even in advanced age, he constantly visited the poor and sick, who lived in the most distant parts of the city. Such however was his humility, that few instances have come to light. physician being one day called to see a poor patient, who had nobody to take care of him, asked the man how he would send to have his medicine made up, as it must be taken the same evening: he answered, There would be no

A

difficulty;' but seemed averse to tell who was to go on the errand : the physician insisted, and was informed that the aged pastor Joenicke came every evening to make the poor man's bed, prepare his victuals, and do whatever else was necessary. At another time, Joenicke having received from a rich man a large alms for the relief of a poor man who lived a long way off, and some pence for the person who was to carry it, preferred taking it thither himself, in order that these pence might be saved, and so increase the relief a little. The tree that produced

these fruits, must have borne many of the same kind; it is only to be wished that more had been preserved.

Such was the Bohemian pastor, and his example cries loudly to him that hath ears to hear, to drink at the same fountain, that he may go and do likewise. Joenicke had a brother, who studied at Halle, and went out as a Missionary to India; he died at Palamcotta, after having seen his labours blest of the Lord.*

I. I. M.

*The personal part of this memoir is taken from the Archives of Christianity.

Sometimes

A BOOKSELLER'S lounge is proverbially delightful. And among the religious world, (for indeed it is a world peculiar to itself) the same taste exists in no small degree. It is refreshing to step occasionally into a religious bookseller's, and run over titles and title-pages, peep between uncut leaves, and survey the portraits of eminent persons. too, one picks up a new idea in this way, a new train of thought is struck out, a new subject of meditation suggests itself, or a new and precious example is gained. Much then might be said, not only on the pleasures of such a lounge, but also on its advantages. But if the pleasure be great in London, what must it be in Paris, where novelty enhances it! Perhaps very few of our English travellers make a point of going into a small shop, in a street named from the Protestant chapel of the Oratoire, where formerly dwelt Henry Servier, whose successor is J. J. Rister, at No. 6.

To enjoy such a place requires some Christian taste; if the visitor has it, so much the better; but if he has not, I would advise

him (for much weightier reasons than this) to seek for it without delay.

One of the first ideas that occurs to the visitor will be, the valuable testimony paid by the French Protestants to his own country, by adopting and translating so many English works. Here he will see Wilberforce on Christianity, Newton's Cardiphonia, Scott's Bible (in a course of publication) and many others. He opens Bogue on the New Testament, and will be surprized to find that it was read and appreciated by the captive emperor at St. Helena, a circumstance which strongly marks it out as a present to Frenchmen of a speculative turn of mind. Keith on Prophecy will also meet his eyes, a book which is singularly well calculated for distribution on the Continent, and which will doubtless be mainly instrumental in advancing the Lord's kingdom among unbelievers. The Pilgrim's Progress too, is translated, (at least the first part) but whether it was wise to preserve the famous sentence about Pope and Pagan, I very much doubt. In my humble opinion, it impedes

the circulation of the book, and perhaps Pagan and Persecutor would have done better.* Mr. Erskine's little works are also to be found here. Here too is Father Clement, Jessy Allan, &c. here is Jesus Shewing Mercy, translated by the late Madame Falle. Here are Burder's Village Sermons, and the more argumentative, but not more powerful ones of Chalmers, which are greatly esteemed among French Christians. Here are the principal works of English writers upon the Evidences, from Derham to Beattie. Here are the lives of Fletcher of Madely and his excellent wife; the first is not considered a happy translation, but the matter shines through the language; the second has found its way into the royal palace, and is understood to be in high estimation with the present queen of France. How far her exaltation may have contributed to her happiness, she knows best; but we must all own, that the earth brings forth thorns and thistles to every one. Let us hope and pray, that she may in due time gain an incorruptible crown, and in this wish we trust, that the warmest republican, and the most zealous Carlist will readily join.

Nor must he overlook Bickersteth on the Scriptures, the Life of Henry Martyn, (improved by many useful notes) and the Memoir of Caroline Smelt. The Paris Religious Tract Society has also adopted many papers from the London one, and the visitor will be pleased at the sight of many an old acquaintance in a new dress. And now he will begin to ask, is all the Protestant literature of France exotic? have they nothing original? Alas! many circumstances have conspired to depress and enfeeble the churches of France.

I had almost forgotten Doddridge's Rise and Progress, and Milner's Church History, of which several parts have appeared.

But let us remember what they were. No one who has not studied the subject can imagine what buffoonery, what vulgar nonsense, was uttered from the Romish pulpits in Paris, till the middle of the seventeenth century. Yet at that time the Protestant church produced some of its brightest ornaments, and Amyrant, Mestrezat, and Daillé, were awakening and edifying mankind. It would be difficult to find superior sermons to those of the early French Protestant divines. And what made them so clear and so forcible? Sincerity, sacrifice for conscience sake, deep study of the Gospel, and a faithful practice of holding fast the form of sound words. Their volumes are so scarce, owing to numbers of them having been destroyed, that book-collectors may reckon them among their rarest treasures. A reprint of selections from their sermons has been commenced, but I fear it languishes, though it well deserves encouragement. Saurin and Nardin are the standard books with modern readers. The latter has the talent of drawing out the spiritual improvement of a text in the highest degree.

But let the visitor look around, and he will see there is no cause for blame. Here are reprints of Drelincourt's valuable works to begin with. Here is the Correspondence of La Chaise and Spon, which is sufficient to decide the balance in any unbiassed mind between the two communions; and a similar work of great excellence, intitled Correspondence of Two Ladies in the Seventeenth Century. Here is the Journal of Jean Migault, which details so affectingly the exile of the French Protestants. Here is Bayssiere's Letter to his Children, which has been instrumental in preventing a hasty change on the part of some English. Here is the Life of the late Baron de Stael, whose existence was indeed

tual usefulness among the poor. These she failed not to improve. A persevering collector for the Bible and Church Missionary Societies, she rejoiced to see the Lord's pleasure prosper in their hands. She visited the cottages of

the poor. She sought out among them the sick and needy. For seventeen long years, she was a steady, constant, unwearying teacher in the Sunday school. Whoever might be absent, she was there, unless from home, or hindered by illness. The Lord's day morning found her early with her God, and she went forth from her chamber to communicate with the unin

structed young. She sold and circulated among the children Prayer Books, Hymn Books, Tracts, and similar publications. For this purpose she had her monthly packet of Friendly Visitors, &c. It might be said of her, that like her Divine Master, she went about doing good. Her perseverance and diligence in whatever she took in hand were truly admirable. She was not of those who put their hand to the plough and look back. It was by means of these habits, that she was enabled with but a sickly frame, to have time to spare from the immediate duties of her calling.

But the time was come, that she must die. And, as afterwards observed by one of her friends, she died, just as the Christian would wish to die, in the midst of her work. "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints," and truly her end was peace. One Lord's day found her, morning and afternoon, in her usual post at the church, and in the Sunday School, and the next she had entered into rest. The knell of death was the earliest that that morning sounded from the village steeple. Monday and Wednesday she was somewhat unwell: Wednesday seized with an inflammation on the chest, and before the sun of the next Sabbath morn had

JANUARY 1833.

illuminated the distant hills, she was in Abraham's bosom. In the midst of life we are in death: "So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom." We are all much in sorrow. A mere allusion to the event of the morning left scarcely a dry eye in the church. Their unworthy pastor, the writer of these lines, grieved bitterly, feeling that he had been deprived of a most valuable helper, and that not of himself only, but of others also. The first burst of grief has now subsided, but we still feel our loss.

In the end of this excellent Christian, there was no vain-glorious boasting, but there was a hope full of immortality. The triumph of grace was entire; deep selfhumiliation and unshaken confidence in the perfect work of Christ; the sure mercies of the everlasting covenant. She was occasionally delirious, but it was delirium of a very pleasing kind; harmless and inoffensive- indeed almost playful-and throughout evincing the devout tendencies of a religious soul. I saw her several times during her short illness: always with satisfaction. In our last interview, when I reminded her that to depart and be with Christ was far better, with an ardent smile, she emphatically answered, Yes; and then, after a moment's consideration, referring to a sermon I had preached some time before, added, but I have been thinking that perhaps my desire to depart and be with Christ, has been more occasioned by the difficulties I have had to contend with in life, than pure love to God. In such thoughts we see the tokens of a soul jealous of itself with a godly jealousy. In reply I requested her to recollect, that He who here guides us by his counsel, is the same who appoints our lot and portion, our troubles and difficulties; using these for the accomplishment of his own purposes

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