22, and endeavored, as far as my ability and time would allow, to lay before them a view of the principles and prominent characteristics of that doctrine of the "restitution of all things, which God hath spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world began." Never be fore nor since, have I addressed a more attentive audience. And the reason is obvious,-it was all new to them. The sentiments, the moral precepts, and the explanations of Scripture, were entirely different from anything to which they had ever before listened. Every eye was rivited upon the speaker, hardly a limb was moved, and the only discordant sound was an occasional groan, or brief exclamation, from a pale-faced young man sitting near by me. I afterwards learned that he had occasionally tried to preach to the same people the eternal enmity and wrath of God; and that his great anxiety on the occasion to which I allude, was caused by the supposition that a wolf had entered the neighborhood to lead the people to destruction. During the delivery of my discourse, my attention was particularly attracted by a middle-aged female sitting near me. The absorbing attention, the intense eagerness with which she listened to every word that fell from the speaker's lips, was truly surprising. The dilated eye, the slightly parted lips, the gently inclined head, indicated that her whole soul was alive with the subject. And the occasional gleam of joy which flitted over her countenance, and the tears which frequently gushed from her eyes, as she obtained one new view after another, satisfied me that the word was droping with cooling freshness upon a soul long parched and withered under the blighting influence of erroneous doctrines. Nor was I mistaken in this conjecture, as the sequel proved. The following morning this lady called at the dwelling where I tarried. With tears coursing down her cheeks, she thanked me for the discourse to which she had listened the preceding evening. "The sentiments you proclaimed," she remarked, "must be true, I felt them to be true, for they removed a mountain weight of sorrow, an unknown and inexpressible load of grief, under which my heart has long been pressed down. If the gospel is an annunciation of good tidings of great joy,' then did I hear the gospel from your lips. For the lost and famished wanderer in the wilderness, hails not the sight of a human dwelling with greater joy, the ship-wrecked, perishing perishing mariner, tossed to and fro by the mountain wave, upon his frail plank, catches not the first view of distant land, with a more thrilling impulse of gladness, than I listened to those annunciations of God's eternal, impartial, and illimitable love and mercy, which caused the sweet light of hope to shine in upon a soul long darkened by deep despair. And your own countenance," she continued, "was lit up by an expression, which assured me that you realized the truth and the excellency of the sentiments you proclaimed." She She then explained to me the peculiarities of her situation, and the reason why she was so sensibly affected in listening to those views of the the gospel to which she had be fore been an entire stranger. informed me that two or three years before my visit, a beloved daughter, aged about seven years, was taken sick, and suddenly and unexpectedly died. The shock to the mother's feelings was severe, the loss was ir reparable. Before the child was buried, if I mistake not, or a least very shortly afterwards, the mother was called upon by a neighbor, who was a deacon in an Orthodox church. Whether the mother was a member of the church or not, has escaped my remembrance; she, however, fully believed the doctrine of ceaseless woe; for she had no distinct knowledge of any other sentiment. It would seem that the object of the deacon in visiting her while suffering under this calamity, was to take advantage of the susceptible state of her mind, and so to arouse her fears as to bring her into a stricter conformity to the discipline and formularies of his church. His motives in this, may have been of the most benevolent character, his only desire may have been to benefit her; but he took a most unfortunate course to accomplish such an object. During the conversation, he inquired whether the child had been "sprinkled" in infancy? She had not. Again he inquired whether she supposed the child had arrived at a knowledge of good and evil? The mother replied, that she could not determine a question of that character; but should suppose a child of that age had not. "Ah!" said this miserable comforter, "if I supposed she had not arrived at a sufficient age to know good from evil, I should have had some hopes of her; but she must have known good from evil!" The mother heard this horrid declaration, she saw and believed the awful conclusion at which it pointedand as a dagger, it pierced the very core of her heart! "That declaration," continued the careworn woman, "robbed me of all hope, and left me a broken-hearted mother. The thought that my child, my own child, which so often had twined its infant arms about my neck, and lavished its sweet caresses upon me, which so often had reposed upon my bosom with an assurance of safety from all danger, under the panoply of a mother's love, which had so often beguiled a weary hour by her artless prattle and childish glee, was in hell, in that horrid abode of demons and devils, to be torn and racked by incessant, unmitigated, and unending torments, haunted me day and night, as a begrimmed fiend from the nether world. I could not banish it a moment from my mind, its gnawing anguish was ceaseless and unspeakable. It made my pil. low a bed of thorns instead of repose, it made my food distasteful, it made all social intercourse a furnace of pain, and life a heavy burden. It drove me to the verge of desperation; and often," she exclaimed, with a solemnity of manner that I shall never forget, "often have I been tempted in my frenzied moments, to rush into the jaws of death, and fill the suicide's grave. But thank God, deliverance from my misery has arrived. I have found that there is balm in Gilead, which can heal the bruised heart, and a physician there, who can give relief to the soul sick with agony. O! blessed Father! how long have I been blinded to thy illimitable love and mercy! how long have I been in ignorance that my own affection for my child, which the treasures of countless worlds cannot buy, sinks into nothingness in comparison to thy love for her and all thy creatures! The truth," she continued, "which you proclaimed last evening, that God is the loving parent of the whole family of man, and that he enfolds in the embraces of his goodness and compassion, every being he has created, has filled an aching void in my heart. During the past night refreshing sleep has been my companion, pleasant dreams, sweet, lovely visions of my lost child, arrayed in beauteous robes, and smil. ing upon me with a countenance radiant with beauty and happiness, and beckoning me up to her bright abode, have floated before me, and filled my heart with an unspeakable joy!" Such, kind reader, was the mother's grief, and such the mother's joy! As I journeyed to my abode, 1 reflected upon these circumstances, and upon the character of that doctrine, which drives its believers frequently to insanity! I asked myself if it were possible any could believe the compassionate Jesus came into the world to reveal a system of doctrines which pierce the feeling heart with anguish unspeakable, a system of doctrines which tells the mother, while gazing with a parent's fondness upon the little circle in which all her tenderest affections are garnered up, that the time may come, when, although safe herself, she may be compelled to behold each beloved one, shrieking in agony on the tempestuous billows of unending wrath? Good God! I mentally exclaimed, can a female, can A MOTHER believe this terrific sentiment, and retain her reason! Parent of mankind, save the female heart from a task so dreadful! If the fair reader, whose eye is scanning these lines, has the misfortune to be still involved in those errors which poison present peace, and spread the dark pall of fear and dread over the future, she will allow me to urge her to free herself from this thraldom. The female heart must revolt at such doctrines, when real. ized in all their deformity. I would invite her to examine the principles and the evidences of the doctrine of the salvation of the world through Jesus Christ. I am confident it has claims upon her belief, her respect and love, I am confident she will perceive in its teachings, that which is peculiarly in consonance with the tenderest, loveliest, holiest promptings of her own heart! Search! and may God give you success in finding that truth which will make you free, and fill your soul with peace and gladness. But whether you can find that truth or not, may the Father of spirits, in mercy preserve you from the grief of that mother, of whose sufferings and joy, I have given you a true and faithful record. J. M. A. LIFE AMONG THE INSANE. III. A learned writer says, that "whatever exalts the power of the brain and nerves, depresses vitality, or debilitates the body, may through these effects become the causative agent of insanity. Hence ill health, intemperance, debauchery, self-abuse, excessive and prolonged labor, either manual or mental, night watching, great loss of sleep from any cause, excitement upon religious subjects, domestic and pecuniary troubles, disappointment and grief, are among its most prolific causes. It is a disease of debility, and not of a superabundance of strength as some have supposed. It is almost unknown among aboriginal races, whose habits and customs promote corporeal development, strength and vigor, and make no detrimental strain upon the nervous system. It increases with advancing civilization, and abounds to the greatest extent wherever man is most enlightened, because there the artificial habits and customs which call the brain most powerfully into action, are most prevalent." And what a long catalogue insanity presents? Kings, sages, philosophers are all found in this list. And poets too, what a space they occupy in the roll? A learned French physician says "I once visited a town in Italy; I passed rapidly by cathedrals, churches, palaces, public monuments, fountains, statues, all interesting perhaps, but I did not stay to inspect them, for my entire attention was directed toward the spot toward which I was hastening. At length I stopped before a low arched doorway, inside an iron railing. Nothing could be more sad than this retreat, yet the names of Byron, Lamartine, Gray, and many other names showed that some mighty interest was connected with this spot. It was in fact the cell in which Tasso had been confined for seven years, and his hard couch and iron ring still remain in their places. On seeing these things I fancied I could hear the illustrious poet singing the death-knell of Chatterton, of Collins, of Gilbert, and a host of brothers, lost and abandoned like himself." Dr. Brigham expresses the opinion that some persons exhibit more mental vigor and ability after an attack of insanity that before. He says, "Of this I feel confident from my own observation, and the declaration of the persons and their friends; besides it is not very surprising that such should be the result, as it can be explained on physiological principles, the unusual and long continued excitement of the brain having permanently increased its power and activity. I suspect that this is often the case, or rather, that a slight disease of the brain is often the cause of the remarkable genius and talent exhibited by some persons. Dryden correctly says: "Great wits are sure to madness near allied, And thin partitions do their bounds divide." The observation is as old as Aristotle, and innumerable examples, from his time to our own, might be referred to in support of its truth. In the writings of Fielding, Pope, Dryden, Rosseau, Dr. Johnson, Byron, and many others, are descriptions of insipient insanity, evidently drawn from their own sensations. Pascal often sprang from his chair while composing his elaborate works, seeing a fiery opening by his side. Luther maintained that he saw and conversed with Satan. Descartes was often followed by invisible persons calling upon him to pursue in the search for truth. Cowper was decidedly insane, even when he wrote some of his most celebrated poems. And one of the finest poems in the English language was written by him just after he had been defeated in an attempt to kill himself. It is the 128th hymn in Chapin's collection, and begins: "God moves in a mysterious way, And rides upon the storm." And a hymn written on Christ as seen of angels, owed its completion to an insane man. It was written by the Rev. M. Gregg, an English clergyman, who had an insane brother living with him, who spent his time wandering about the yard and garden, and who sometimes found his way into his brother's study, but never seemed to take any interest in things about him. Mr. Gregg, therefore, used no precaution in relation to his manuscripts, generally allowing them to remain exposed on his desk. On this occasion, he had written the hymn with the exception of the two last lines, and being unable to get a suitable climax, he walked out to refresh himself and complete his subject. After he had left his study his insane brother stepped in, read the manuscript, took a pen and completed the hymn. And it was THE MEANS OF GRACE. The "means of grace" is a phrase we often hear in prayer-meetings. It has been rather monopolized there, and we seldom notice it in ordinary conversation. Thinking about it the other day, after I had heard it, as usual joined in with "the hope of glory," I asked myself what it suggested to me. On the surface, of course, going to church, Sabbath-keeping, reading the Bible, and private prayer. But may it not have a deeper meaning? Is there not a sense in which all the acts of our life, the associations of every day, and the commonest accidents of existence may be called means of grace? May not the newspaper I take up in the morning, be to me, if I read it as a record of Divine Providence, as clearly a means of grace, as the chapter in Corinthians, or the beautiful Psalm? May not the new soul I met when in a friend's house, I was introduced to a stranger whom straightway I touched, finding unexpected points of sympathetic interest, become to me a means of grace? As I go to my bookshelves, hesitating whether to read Macaulay's stately periods, or Carlyle's fiery pages, or Ruskin's music, will not the selection I am led to make give to my spirit the food it needs or steal from it strength, according to the time and hour? So that my book may be a means of grace, or a means of exhaustion, and help or hinder me on the heavenly road. O friends who read this, believe that everything in your lives comes from the loving Father. There is nothing he gives which rightly used, may not become to you a means of grace. The new song you learned when you gave yourself in consecration to the Lord, should have this refrain, "Be careful for nothing, but in everything, by prayer and supplication, make your requests known unto God." If we are "careful for nothing," we shall not be unduly distressed or worried when our domes. tic affairs press upon us. There are some lights in which even a vexatious servant or a fretful child can become so glorified by patience, that they are recognized as means of grace. Grace is favor, and favor to the ill-deserving, not only as we sometimes interpret it, to the undeserving. For glory, which we hope for, what perfect synonym in all the Thesaurus of the English tongue, can we find? It conveys to us a feeling of brightness, of splendor, of triumph, as when a Roman general came home to receive an ovation from his friends and countrymen, wreaths, flowers, music, gold and gems adorning his path. One day, conquerors and crowned, through our Lord Jesus Christ, we shall thus home to go glory when the means of grace here have wrought their perfect work. CHRIST THE FOUNTAIN. "If any man thirst, let him come to me and drink!" This was an astonishing announcement. If Plato had uttered it from his Academy, it would have savored of boastful presumption. Yet a Galilean peasant, whose whole "school" of followers scarcely went beyond a dozen fishermen and publicans, makes this proc lamation to all human kind: If any one is thirsty for pure happiness, 1 will satisfy him; if any one is suffer |