T

I. THE STORY.

IS evening :-by the tranquil deep His roll-call doth the sunset keep. Swift must'ring shadows haste around And drive the light from lower ground; Up hills, ablaze with later gleams, Their swift advancing legion streams; And soon the topmost peaks of pride In vain their cohorts have defied; Till,-mourning o'er the sunbeams deadThe skies a cloudy pall have spread; A moment's glare, an instant's fire, Then darkness hath his whole desire. But ere the eventide is o'er

A bark hath left the mountain's shore; 'Tis manned by fishers stout and brave, And swiftly cleaves the silent wave.

One-half the course is scarcely spanned,
And either seems the nearer land,
When, like a giant fierce and dread
Down plunging to his ocean bed,
Forth leaps the storm, nor omen sent
Forewarns them of its dire intent,
One moment sees the rising surge,

The next, for life their course they urge!
In whirl and roar and fierce turmoil

With instant rage the waters boil,
And voice of man perforce is mute
While hold the waves their wild dispute.
Here seas with seas contending clash,
And thunders answer thunders' crash:
There cataracts upleaping rise
To meet the deluge from the skies,
Till fury of the tempest's might
Is writ in ocean's black and white.
The curling crests of waves in strife,
Sharp severed by tornado's knife,
Rush hissing o'er the seething flood,
Whirled into clouds of driving scud;-
Dust from the tempest's chariot wheel,
His steeds' fierce gallop to conceal !
While countless foam-streaks, dusky white,
Bedeck the billows 'mid the night;
Thus fury oft her robe doth grace
With fringes of primeval lace.
Bewildered echoes vainly leap
In eager haste from steep to steep,
For faster forth commotions pour
And drown their offspring in the roar.
And if the waves their war assuage,
With angry blast the winds engage ;
Their piercing clarion rends the sky,
From hostile fife the woods reply,
The shores resound the surge-beat drum
Whence earth's unmuffled thunders come,
And tempest-tones the discord swell,
Lent from the orchestra of hell!

May heaven sustain the fragile bark
Unharmed by floods as ancient ark!
Strong are their arms the storm who breast,
High are their hopes as breaker's crest,
But lab'ring oar in vain they ply,
The threat'ning winds advance deny.
Now, tossed as flow'ret's seed of down,
They mount the billow's awful crown,
Now plunge to hollow of the wave
Dark looming as infernal cave.
And soon the seas, no more content
On meaner objects to be spent,
Foam o'er the vessel's groaning side
And pour within their deadly tide.
What power can save the toiling crew,
On death they gaze in closest view!
Well may the towering seas o'erwhelm
When sleeps the Pilot by the helm !

Hark the entreaty-" Master, save!
We perish in a speedy grave!"

And hush! what means this instant pause?
Divine o'ermaster Nature's laws!
Who rises from that slumber light
To face the tempest's fearful night!
He that hath poised the dome of air
Can calm its turbulency there ;-
He that compelled the garnered deep
To yield the mountains from its keep,
Shall bid once more the waters know
That voice of centuries ago.

He speaks!—the tempest quells its sound,
All silent as a chidden hound;
That silv'ry voice, those golden tones
Are heard above creation's groans,
Like trumpet, sounding 'mid the fray,
To call the combatants away.
List to His accents: "Peace,—be still!”
Down sinks at once each wat❜ry hill,
Instant the mountain-waves flow down
In terror of their Maker's frown.
The waters, smooth as sea of glass,
Divide to let their Master pass,
And, swift their rev'rence to learn,
Glide humbly to the vessel's stern.
The winds not e'en a breath allow
To stir around th' advancing prow,
Transforming fierce and deadly strife
To Sabbath calm of perfect life.
The eddies leave their circles bright
To taste tranquillity's delight,
And sea looks upward unto sky
With gaze of blue and tranquil eye,
That owns a pure and truthful aim

And meets responsive glance the same.
Alas! the peace that lulled the sea,
Such peace again shall never be !

The peace perceived when first hath smiled

A mother on her infant child;—
When love at length its haven knows ;
Or freedom's nobly-won repose ;-
The rest that comes from vict'ry sweet
When tempting fiends awhile retreat ;-
The peace which patience learns to share ;-
The calm of sweet submission's prayer ;-
Such calmness on the waters fell,
Such rest, the voice in vain would tell!
But ah! the human soul is last
To feel the calm around it cast,
And stormy questionings of doubt
Prevail within, where peace without.
"What man is this, that winds and seas
Obey His mandate when He please!
"What man is this?" A Man Divine !
In Him the Godhead's glories shine,
The mountains tremble at His nod,
'Tis Man; ay more; 'tis manhood's God!
Waves of the sea or of the soul,
Throughout the universe that roll ;-
The seas of passion or of pride,—
Of gladness,-every heaving tide
That sweeps, with good or evil fraught,
The ocean vast of human thought ;-
These lie in hollow of His hand,
Whene'er they rise, His calm command
Can still their rage, forbid their roar,
And spread His peace from shore to shore.

II. THE PARABLE.

O Saviour, when the light of truth Has fled the mountain-peaks of youth, And doctrine lends her craft, to guide (Amidst opinion's adverse tide) To Duty's shore,—the further strand Of Love's own heav'nly Holy Land, Then enter Thou, and deign to be Our passenger across the sea.

Ah, if with Thee we seek to sail, Not ours the gentle fav'ring gale,

Not ours the voyage o'er summer seas
While scarce a ripple owns the breeze;
Soon fade the beams of former light,
Soon falsehood spreads her garb of night,
Rise lusts of evil, which had seemed
At peace, while yet the sunshine beamed,
And scarce has passion's warning gust
Disturbed the calm of seeming trust,
Ere rage forgets his face to hide,
And passion, in a boiling tide,
Bids hate and wrath in tumult roll
Their vengeful tempest round the soul.
Now fierce desires, swift and strong,
Hurry the tempting waves along :
Sarcastic gibes with stinging spray
Distract the gaze, from truth away:
Tossed to and fro by fear or doubt,
Dismay within and fiends without,

We reel 'neath shocks of stagg'ring weight
As if with wine inebriate.

Oh! is it not concern of Thine
Our Pilot! dost Thou still recline!
Ah, pity doth Thine eyelids close
And mercy pillows Thy repose;
For silent yet is self-conceit
Which will not for Thine aid entreat,
And forward still we are propelled
By hopes of passion briefly quelled;
Not ours to seek the Saviour's power,
Ourselves shall brave temptation's hour.
Now deep dismay to deep doth call,
While cataracts of falsehood fall,
And see! all powerless to defend
Faith's feeble bulwarks fail and rend!
Ah! vain is doctrine's feeble craft

Which every fiend to scorn hath laughed,
We feel temptations pouring in
To drown the sense of deadly sin;
Oh, must we sink among the dead

With weedy falsehoods round our head;
No more to view truth's heavenly stars,
Shall earth about us close her bars!
While Thou, on whom our hopes relied,
Thou sleepest! is Thine aid denied!
Well mayst Thou slumber, placed behind
All other aims that fill the mind.

Now, deeper plunging must we trace
Of sin's vast mountain-range the base!
O hell, thy waters dense and chill,
The breast to suffocation fill.
Thy seething waves of deadly hate,
With crests all scornful curling wait,
Around us towering darkly roll
And roar their vengeance to the soul.
Leave, anguish, leave thy useless oar;
Hope and desire, toil no more!
See, Faith, where every surging doubt
Confronts, to turn thy course about :
Above, hell's blackest thoughts arise
To make a midnight of thy skies;
While passions of intenser black,
Urge, hurrying, raging at thy back,
Angels and fiends contend for thee
Which shall possess the mastery!
This moment must the die be cast,
Choose! for the choice may be thy last.
Hast thou a Saviour? seek Him now,
Let all thy pride before Him bow;
And art thou helpless? prostrate fall,
Omnipotence shall hear thee call.
Rebellious passion's towering surge
Still rising, curls its trembling verge,-
In deeper trough doth grief depress
Till agony succeed distress :-

Hast thou a gulf profounder still,
Despair?-then haste and work thy will,
For sinks the heart o'erwhelmed by woes!
O Saviour, every angry billow

Of hate and pride about us flows:

Thine eyes are hid on slumber's pillow :

From shudd'ring depths which anguish knows

Rings forth entreaty for Thine aid,
Rise, Saviour! bid the storm be stayed!
Thou seem'st asleep to mute despair,
But instant Thy response to prayer:
Thou, only Thou hast power to save,
Guard us from sin's engulfing wave,
Oh, grant our hearts Thy peace to feel,
And still our murmurings while we kneel,
Say to our passions, "Hush, be dumb!*
Ye thirsty bloodhounds, dare ye come
To bay the Truth with fiendish yell,
Be muzzled, get you hence to hell!"
Thy peace shall come when sins depart,
Arise, expel them from the heart!
The only peace our souls would see
Is life, is joy, controlled by Thee.
Oh, not like wrath subsiding slow
When thoughts some new diversion know,
But may Thine accents' breath of balm
Compose the soul to instant calm!

Then let not blind ungrateful eye,
Or doubt's unreasoning mind, deny
To whom salvation's praise is due,
Or, downward limiting the view,
Deem human intellect of might
To hold temptation in despite,-
Imagine Man, with feeble shows
Of sympathy, can bring repose,—
That Flesh hath power the soul to save,—
Or Dust can rescue from the grave!--
Thy peace is not the world's to give,
And only by Thy gift we live :

Thy voice alone can fill the breast
With fulness of Thy sacred rest,

Or bid the intellect discern

That peace which science ne'er can learn.
Forbid the moaning gust of tears,
The shrill-voiced wind of anxious fears,
The boist'rous gale of wrath defied,
The tempest of offended pride.
Disperse ill-humour's sullen wave,
And hate, whose surges foaming rave:
Each towering passion gently quell,
Hush all the mountain waves of hell.
Bring calm submission to Thy will,
That e'en from malice fears no ill,
And quiet, by a placid mind,
Resentment's fierce and stormy wind.
Expand contentment's tranquil seas,
Unstirred by faintest murm❜ring breeze,
Forbid earth's ruffling hopes to stray
Across our calm and onward way.
Then, Saviour, not alone compose
The mental surface, while there flows
A restless mind's upheaving swell,
Of troublous thoughts below to tell;
But, far beneath perception's brink,
Bid swelling pride and passion sink,
Till plummet, fathoming the mind,
No earth-born agitation find.
Then grant a peace profounder yet,
Till e'en affections' depths forget

The sound of storm which once they heard,
And rest, by gladness only, stirred.
While atmospheres of human thought
No more remember to have fought,
Their gentlest inspiration bring
And only breathe the air of Spring
To hush the heart's pacific sea,
Reposeful, since controlled by Thee.
Thus, Saviour, thus bid discord cease,
Thus bring Thine all-surpassing peace!
Thus let Thy creatures taste again
The calm that quelled the wat'ry main ;
And while our thoughts to silence fall,
Thy Love Divine be Lord o'er all.

T. W. BOGG.

* The literal meaning of the Greek words translated “Peace, be still!" is "Hush, be muzzled!"

A CHRISTMAS SERMON.

"Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling-clothes, lying in a manger."-Luke ii. 12.

HRISTMAS has again come round, and Christendom celebrates once more its highest and holiest festival. The joyous gatherings and hearty good. wishes of Christmas time are once more being repeated in celebration of the birth of the Founder of the Christian religion.

The universal joy and rejoicing that we see everywhere around us are the responses of men to the great message which the angels of heaven delivered to the faithful shepherds of Judea nearly nineteen centuries ago, "Glad tidings of great joy which are to all people;" and as our minds revert to the origin of the celebration, we are led to reflect upon the mighty influences of which the first Christmas was the beginning.

Assuredly God's ways are not as our ways, nor His thoughts as our thoughts; for who living at that time could have foreseen such mighty influences as have been exerted, as likely to arise from the birth of a "babe wrapped in swaddling-clothes and lying in a manger"? As we trace the subsequent career of that babe, we learn that in after-years He was "despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;" that He Himself declared, "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but I have not where to lay My head;" that He was not only despised, but persecuted; that the great and mighty ones of the earth shunned His company; that His condemnation to death was demanded by the clamour of His countrymen; and that He died a violent and a shameful death as a vile felon,—and all these despite the fact that His life was a constant work of love; that He ever "went about doing good;" that He committed no offence against any man; that He neither justified tyranny nor preached revolution; that He did among them the works which none other man did, and taught the duty of living a life of earnest usefulness; and that He ever exhorted the people to newness and holiness of heart and life. We see in all these things nothing to give an earnest of the future reverence which was to attach to the name of that babe, they are rather the surroundings of a life soon to be quite forgotten.

But the birth of this "babe wrapped in swaddlingclothes and lying in a manger" was no ordinary birth, and His life as He grew up to manhood had a phase beyond that observable to the eyes of ordinary men.

Long years before, one of the holy prophets of the nation of whom this little babe was born had, from the inbreathed wisdom of the Spirit of God, foretold the birth into this world of the eternal God: "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon His shoulder: and His name shall be called Immanuel, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. Of the increase of His kingdom and government there shall be no end;" and these words referred to the "babe wrapped in swaddling-clothes, lying in a manger." The great Jehovah had declared that He only was, for He only could be, the Saviour of the world; and yet before this little babe was born He had been announced by a messenger from heaven as the Saviour promised. Not only so, the place at which He was born had been long foretold as the future birthplace of the promised Messiah: "Thou Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall He come forth unto Me that is to be ruler in Israel, whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting."

The Jews had long been awaiting the coming of their promised Saviour, they were even then in the expectation of beholding Him, and here He was "wrapped in swaddling-clothes, lying in a manger." But they rejected Him alike as a babe and man. They looked for some imposing ruler at the head of mighty armies and possessed of boundless wealth, but they disdained and scouted the claims of one whose after-life, as it regarded worldly position and wealth, was a fitting sequel to His birth in a manger.

Just glance at the surroundings of this babe's birth. We all know a mother's tender love for her babe, more especially for her first-born; how, if rich, she will lavish upon the preparations for its appearance all that her wealth can command; how, if poor, she will cheerfully labour early and late; how rich and poor alike will deem nothing that they can procure too good or too costly for the expected one; how every mother, if she be a good mother, will pour out the rich treasures of a love which no earthly love can transcend upon the new-born babe, and do everything within her power to make it comfortable and happy. Yet this baby was born in a stable and cradled in a manger. "There was no room for them in the inn;" times were busy, lodging accommodation was in great demand, and was therefore absorbed by the richer people. They were poor, "there was no room for them." A poor and miserable reception did the world give to its Saviour.

The

But let us just turn from the scene in the village, and go into the fields near it. Yonder are some shepherds in the still quiet of the night, keeping watch over their flocks; without a warning of any kind they find themselves enveloped in a brilliant halo of dazzling brightness, and confronted by a messenger from heaven. Their hearts were filled with fear, as well they might be; they had doubtless heard of the occasions upon which in olden times angels had talked with the fathers of their race, and with their great leaders and prophets, but they were but shepherds faithfully watching their flocks. angel had come to tell of the occurrence of the event that had occurred in Bethlehem. "Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. Unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling-clothes, lying in a manger." And the holy choir of heaven proclaimed the birth of this little babe as the worthy occasion of ascribing "glory to God in the highest; peace on earth, good will toward men." And if we rightly appreciate the event, we too shall be constrained to own that nothing so clearly demonstrates "the glory of God," nor is so great an earnest of "peace on earth, good will toward men," as the birth of this "babe."

The Saviour's birth was the incarnation of Deity. For a great and holy purpose the great God of heaven and earth had determined to assume the vestments of humanity. And in coming into the world He had resolved to come into it as a little helpless babe. It may be asked why He did not effect His work in some other way? why He could not have saved the world without coming as a man? or if He had to come in a body of earthly substances, why not come as a fullgrown man, and commence His work at once? Without entering into a discussion of the causes which induced the Divine Being to become clothed in flesh (being satisfied to know that it seemed good to Him so to do), we may by reflection see that He came into the world as a babe because such is the law of Divine order concerning the birth of men. The Lord never

violates His own laws, because they, like Himself, are the height of wisdom, and upon all nature is imposed the law of progression through the states of infancy and childhood prior to the attainment of the complete development of manhood. The Saviour came to raise humanity from its lowest depravity to its highest perfectness, to rescue our race from the thraldom of hell, to set an example of obedience, charity, and love; and in coming to be a man among men, He came as men come, and was first "a babe wrapped in swaddling-clothes."

Oh, never was deed so redolent with love and affection; it is a deed that stands alone in bold relief among the records of the past. No human act so completely manifests an entire devotedness to the work of life as the Saviour's birth.

Not with the strength of Omnipotence did He come into the world, but in the utter helplessness of infancy. Not amid the luxury of wealth did He spend His life; no couch of down received His tired limbs, no servile retinue awaited His every call and ministered to His every want-He was a child of hardship and a man of poverty.

And this too for us, for men in the world who had broken His laws, despised His entreaties, and spurned His invitations. He came because He loved us, and because He desired to release us from the difficulties in which we had become involved and to make us happy for ever.

He came to help us, because we were unwilling or unable to help ourselves. He came to save us from ourselves. He came as the Friend, the Saviour of the whole world; and surely such a coming was worthy to be announced in strains more lofty than earth could raise, and to be proclaimed by the heavenly messenger as "good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people." The Saviour of the world, a babe wrapped in swaddling-clothes and lying in a manger." This was the condition, this the home, revealed to the shepherds. by the angel! Think you not that it must have required a more perfect faith than that which you or I possess to sustain such an announcement connected with the Saviour of the world? If we had lived in those days we might perhaps have deemed it an honour to have received the first message concerning the coming of the great Messiah, concerning whom prophecy had so often and so eloquently spoken, and concerning whose magnificence and power so many brilliant hopes were cherished; and we should have listened eagerly for the revelation of His family and name. Our thoughts would have rapidly reviewed the highest families of rank and wealth of the nation, and we should probably have doubted whether any of them were sufficiently noble to give birth to and to rear the Promised One, but the words, “Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddlingclothes, lying in a manger," would have fallen with stunning effect upon our ears, and in all likelihood we should have been inclined to set the whole thing down as a ridiculous dream, or a wild freak of the imagination, and may be we should have laughed with our friends over the fantastic idea of connecting the Messiah with a "babe . . . lying in a manger." But this manner of estimating the worth of men and things is a consequence of the inversion of our states and the perversion of our judgment. We are apt to value rank and wealth too highly, to deem them more important and more necessary than they are, to imagine that the life of the rich must be happy and that of the poor must be miserable. Ay, and even to believe that the path of the rich to heaven must be easier than that of the poor, and that wealth is a barrier against crime, whilst poverty is, if not an excuse for it, at any rate an incentive thereto and a palliation thereof.

But this record of "the babe wrapped in swaddling

clothes and lying in a manger" is a perpetual rebuke and condemnation against such notions, and the shepherds of Judea and the wise men of the East rise up in rebuke against the men of this generation. It was not without reason that the Saviour of the world was thus first hushed in so rude a cradle, and that His life was spent among the poor in this world's goods. The Lord came to save all, and it was necessary that He should come in the way best calculated to enlist the sympathies and win the hearts of all. Had He come as a rich and powerful prince, great and lavish in bestowing worldly wealth and temporal blessings around Him, He might have gained popularity and won the affections of the people, but such popularity would have been the popularity bought by His wealth; but coming as a poor man, His prestige was that of His mission; His benevolence was that of a labour of love, in which not merely His wealth but Himself was given. Had He come as a martial leader at the head of a powerful army, He might have secured the applause of the crowd and the verbal adherence of admiring thousands; but coming as a man of peace, His victories were the victories of truth and love, His adherents were the admirers of goodness and the friends of truth, and the acclamations which He desired and received were and are the pulsations of loving hearts, beating in accord with His own. Had He come as a rich man, He would have been a member of a select class, for the rich men of earth must for ever be a small minority; but coming as a poor man, He came as one of the many, a universal brother, linked to all mankind because one of them. He came as the child of poverty, that the poor might ever see in Him one who had lived like them, making His very poverty a means towards His perfection. He came as a poor man to show that poverty need not associate itself with wrong, and that sorrow need not evoke despair. He came as a poor man to show that wealth has no spiritual privileges, and that in the sight of heaven the poor are placed at no disadvantage. He had no antipathy to wealth, but He taught men that those who trusted in their riches rested upon a poor foundation, and relied upon an unsafe helper in the conflicts and trials of the regenerate life.

How much more forcibly do those sweet words of His, "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls," appeal to our hearts, when we know that the utterer of them Himself had known the weariness and the heaviness of which He spake. It was indeed fitting that He who in His love and His pity saw our woes and resolved to help us, should appear among His creatures not as one nursed in luxury and reared in affluence, but "wrapped in swaddling-clothes, lying in a manger.'

His life was a fitting sequel to His birth-throughout an exhibition of unparalleled tenderness, of a desire to reach all, and thence of a desire to raise all. No fable of ancient mythology, no poetic soarings of the most gifted imagination, ever shadowed forth a love like this; before its records the highest attainments of humanity stand abashed, eclipsed. There is nothing to which it can be compared, the bravest deeds of our bravest warriors, the noblest sacrifices of our most benevolent philanthropists, the grandest acts of our most devoted workers, the brightest achievements of our most daring heroes, pale into insignificance beside it.

It was a brave act when in ancient days the little band of three hundred Greeks defended the pass of Thermopylæ against the mighty army of their country's invaders. It was a noble deed when the ex-Empress of

the French showed her strong sympathy for the suffering people in risking her own life in visiting the cholera hospitals of Paris to encourage the stricken patients. It is a bright page in the history of the late Emperor Nicholas which records how, when in 1830 the cholera raged terribly in St. Petersburg, and the nobles and rich men deserted the city, and the people were driven to the pitch of desperation, he remained at his post, going among the people in their homes and hospitals; and when 60,000 of them were assembled together, uttering loud curses against the government, he penetrated into their midst alone, and asking them to kneel down, prayed for the staying of the plague.

But the pages of history, poetry, and romance give us no conception equal to that contained in the simple Gospel story of the life of Jesus Christ.

Thought fails to grasp its whole grandeur, imagination fails to reach its towering majesty, language cannot express its full sublimity, nor can they gauge the importance of the work that loving life performed.

Let us therefore, while we celebrate joyfully the Christmas season of the year, raise our hearts to the holy Saviour of men in wonder, gratitude, and love, and while we give "glory to God in the highest," endeavour to promote "peace on earth, good will towards men;" let us utter the good wishes of the time with heartiness and goodwill to all around, for the "good tidings of great joy shall be to all people;" let us grasp each other's hands with more sincerity, and seek each other's welfare with more earnestness; let us think more of what God has done for us, and less of what man has done against us; let us strive to bury for ever our disagreements, and work for a more perfect unity and a more complete harmony.

H

"Ye who have scorned each other,
Or injured friend or brother,
In this fast fading year;
Ye who, by word or deed,
Have made a kind heart bleed,
Come gather here.

Let sinned against and sinning
Forget their strifes beginning,
And join in friendship now;
Be links no longer broken,
Be sweet forgiveness spoken,
Under the holly bough."

THE NEW HYMN-BOOK.

AVING noticed the observations of your correspondent A. E. respecting the new hymn-book, I hasten to relieve his mind by assuring him, as far as I am concerned, I have no intention to propose that our hymn-book should contain two thousand hymns, and don't recollect having said anything at Conference that could be so understood. My own impression is that I intended to say that some religious bodies, the Methodists and Congregationalists, had hymn-books containing over 1500 hymns each, and 1000 would not be an unreasonable number for us. At this distance of time I cannot now recollect my distinct expressions.

It appears to me we cannot set out in our revision by fixing a hard-and-fast line.

The evident feeling of the majority in Conference was one of great affection and respect for the present hymnbook, and a desire to preserve as many of the hymns in it as are not much below a good hymn standard.

But if this feeling be regarded, and the new hymnbook be kept down to the same number as the present book, it is evident so few would be rejected, and therefore so few new ones introduced, that the change would

It

be hardly worth making. We scarcely know yet what gems we may find in the mass of hymns now extant. would, however, surely be wise to make such a decided addition of fine hymns that there could be no question that the new book shall be considered a great improvement on the former. If not, it is not worth doing at all.

We must not suppose that all the hymns in the present hymn-book are sung by any single Society, or are sung in one year, so many on a Sunday, as your correspondent suggests. Probably no Society uses more than 150 in its hymnology. It does not follow that the rest are not used, and very properly used, by other Societies, as to them more suitable to their taste and feeling, and so on. The hymns that are never heard in some parts of the Church for want of appropriate music or other reasons, are special favourites and often sung in others. This will continue to be so, and ought to continue to be provided for by a liberal supply.

It would be premature to fix the exact number of the hymns the new hymn-book should contain. The regulations laid down by the Committee are likely to prevent any but really good hymns being introduced, and we ought to have so fair a supply of these that at least for a considerable time there shall be no more supplements. J. BAYLEY.

SWEDENBORG'S WRITINGS INTO AN INDIAN LANGUAGE.

LETTER FROM RAO BAHADUR DADOBA PANDURUNG.

REAT interest in various quarters having been excited by the publication of the above-named gentleman's "Reflections respecting the Works of Swedenborg and the Doctrines of the New Jerusalem Church," and the pressing need of a translation of the works of Swedenborg into one of the Indian dialects having been forcibly suggested by the nature of its contents, the Swedenborg Society's Committee, in a communication a short time ago to Mr. Dadoba Pandurung, inquired the probable cost of translating and publishing the work on "Heaven and Hell" in a dialect which would render it in its most useful form for wide circulation, and generally to advise the Committee upon the best means to be adopted for spreading the doctrines of the New Church among his countrymen. The following letter in reply has recently reached the Committee ::

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Bombay, 3rd November 1878. To T. H. Elliott, Esq., Hon. Secretary to the Swedenborg Society, London. Dear Sir,-I am in receipt of your letter dated 5th ult., and have much pleasure to state that I have derived great satisfaction indeed from the fact communicated therein, namely, that your Society (why, I must now call it our Society) is beginning to evince such a deep and sincere interest in the question of enlightening my countrymen on the doctrines of Swedenborg and of the New Church, and that it has pleased God to make me a humble instrument in His hand to open the channel of such communication between the two countries.

"In my humble opinion I consider the establishment of three or four mission-houses in all the Presidency towns, such as Bombay, Calcutta, Madras, and Agra or Lahore, is the most necessary if not the first step towards spreading the doctrines of the New Church. But in the absence of any contributions from the inhabitants of India themselves, who are still, as might be expected, quite unfavourably disposed towards the establishment of any foreign religious missions in this country, such a measure is, I apprehend, likely to prove