3. Never to drink into the spirit of and these, so as to apply his heart unto one who circulates an ill report.

Poetry.

to India, was boarded by a Malay merchant, a man of high standing and wealth, who asked if he had any tracts or good books he could part with. The American, at a loss how to account for so singular an inquiry from such a

with tracts and good books? you cannot read a word of them." True," said the other; "but I have a use for them, nevertheless; and it is this: Whenever one of your countrymen, or an Englishman, calls on me to trade, I put a tract or good book in his way, and then watch to see what he does with it. If he reads it soberly, and with interest, I infer that he is honest, and will not cheat me; but if he throws it aside with contempt, or a profane oath, I have no more to do with him: I cannot trust him."

has become the more venerable from its age, and the more wonderful as its history and results are examined and understood. Whence springs its originality, if its claims are disallowed? It tells us of expeditions prior to Jason and the Argonauts. It describes mar-man, replied, "What can you want tial adventures long before Achilles and Troy. Its ethical system preceded Thales and Pythagoras. Its muse was vocal before Orpheus and Hesiod. Its judges flourished before consuls and archons. Its feasts and gatherings rejoiced the tribes when the Nemean games had no existence; and it reckoned by sabbaths and jubilees when neither Olympiad nor lustrum marked and divided the calendar. It embodies the prophetic wish of the Athenian sage; for it "scatters that darkness which covers our souls, and tells us how to distinguish good from evil.” The valley of the Nile has now uncovered its hieroglyphics to confirm and illustrate its claims; and Nineveh, out of the wreck and rubbish of three thousand years, has at length yielded up its ruins to prove and glorify the Hebrew oracles.-Inspiration in Conclusively consists in consoling and comflict with Modern Philosophy.

AGRICULTURE.

As agriculture is one of the arts essen-
tial to the existence of society, it was
cultivated in the earliest ages of human
history. Cain was a tiller of the
ground; Abel was a shepherd; and
Noah planted a vineyard. That this
art was carried to great perfection in
ancient Egypt, is evinced by the dense
population which that remarkable
land must have sustained, in the age
when the pyramids were in progress,
and Thebes was in its glory. The
poem of the "Works and Days," by
Hesiod, is a description of early Gre-
cian agriculture; and the Georgics of
Virgil, the Natural History of Pliny,
and the fragments of Columella, and
other writers, which have come down
to us, show in what high estimation
this art was held in ancient Rome;
where generals and dictators returned
to the plough, after the triumphs of
the battle-field.

A MALAY'S TEST OF HONESTY.
A New England sea-captain, going

THE DYING BOY.

A youth, some time ago, resided in a large town in the west of England. His parents were members of a church where the minister was one of that class who consider that their duty ex

forting the good old saints, while they
entirely neglect the claims of the
younger part of their congregations.
The boy had been seriously disposed
from his childhood, and therefore lis-
tened attentively to the sermons he
heard; but could find no food for his
thirsty soul. After a time, his parents
sent him to a boarding-school, where
he attended an efficient and powerful
ministry, which was made, under the
blessing of God, the means of his con-
version. At length, consumption seized
his system, and he was laid on his
dying bed. His old minister came to
see him in his last moments, and, as
he entered the sick chamber, the almost
unconscious boy faintly murmured,
"Lord Jesus, I trust in thee."
"Ah!"
said the minister, "if you do, all will
be well." The dying boy started, raised
himself in the bed, and fixing his
piercing eyes on him, exclaimed, “Sir,
you never told me that before; suppose
it were too late to tell me now!" But
the effort was too great; he sunk back
on his pillow, and almost immediately
expired in his mother's arms.
C. H. D.

3. Never to drink into the spirit of and these, so as to apply his heart unto one who eirculates an ill report.

Poetry.

The Cabinet.

STRIKING CONVERSION OF KEYOYO, THE CAFFRE MURDERER.

To whatever quarter of the world we look, we find the Gospel everywhere the power of God to salvation It changes the fierce Indian into a lamb; it raises the imbruted Greenlander into spirit and life, and a man. The Hindoo, the Chinese, the Sandwich Islander, the Hottentot, and the Caffre, all alike confess its power, and rejoice in its blessings. Among the Caffres, Mr. Ballantyne has recorded a very striking illustration, in the case of a murderer, and one of the least hopeful of the hardened class to which he belonged.

Keyoyo, for such was the Caffre's name, had gone along with a wicked companion to steal some cattle. Like all thieves, he was alarmed lest his crime should be known. He thought that a little boy, who took care of the cattle, might perhaps inform upon him and his companion; and in order to get away with this fear, he resolved on killing the little boy. It was a cruel thought, but, notwithstanding, he put it in execution, and murdered the lad. Now Keyoyo thought that his crime of stealing the cattle would never be found out, if he killed the little boy who took care of them; and So, to keep his first wicked deed from being known, he committed another still more wicked, he added the horrible and awful crime of murder to that of stealing; and, though he thought he would escape, God did not permit him to do so. That by which he expected to escape was the very cause of his detection. God hath said, "He that covereth his sins shall not prosper;" and again, “A man's sins shall find him out;" and so it was with Keyoyo. He tried to cover his sins, but he did not prosper: his sins found him out. He was detected, justice laid its hands upon him, he was tried at the criminal court, and the crime of murder being clearly proved against him, he was sentenced to die on the scaffold.

As he lay in prison under the awful sentence of death, he was frequently visited by Messrs. Davis and Shaw, Wesleyan Missionaries of the district, who were anxious to enlighten his dark mind about the things of the soul and eternity. When they visited him first, they found him as ignorant about religion as the little child who has not begun to learn anything. His mind was like midnight, dark and gloomy. He had no right idea of God. He did not know hat he had a soul. He did not know that Satan was his master, though he had served him all his days. He had never heard of Jesus, or of heaven, or of hell. The poor condemned murderer was ignorant indeed.

He listened to what the missionaries had got to say, but for a while did not seem to understand. No light seemed to break in on his soul. Had the good missionaries not trusted in God, and believed

in the almighty power of his Holy Spirit, they would have given up the work of attempting to enlighten Keyoyo in hopeless despair. But God at length heard the prayers of the missionaries, and in great mercy touched his soul. He tried to pray, and God assisted him; for he thus spoke to the missionaries: "When I pray, something pushes me on to pray more. I look about; I can see nothing: yet something still pushes me on to pray. Now, is this God who thus pushes me on to pray?"

The missionaries told him that it was God, advised him to pray on, and said that God would still assist him. So he did continue to pray, and at another time he said, "Sometimes, when I pray, my heart is lifted up to my mouth." This was very cheering to the missionaries.

But of all that was said to Keyoyo, nothing seemed to take his attention so much as the wondrous story of the Cross. When Mr. Davis entered the dungeon where he lay, he frequently put the question, "Well, Keyoyo, what shall we talk about to-day?" and the answer he received always was, "Let us talk about Jesus Christ." There was keenness in his eye, and deep anxiety on his countenance, whenever Christ was mentioned, and he earnestly inquired why he died, and how he died, and for whom he died. And why was he thus anxious to hear about Christ? It was because he now felt that he was indeed a sinner,—a great sinner. The missionary had often told him so, and he now saw it, he now saw that he deserved to be cast into hell. Speaking of his sorrow on account of his wickedness, he said, My heart is very sore, because I have sinned against that Saviour who has loved me so greatly, and died to save me.' When he was told that there was "a balm in Gilead, and a physician there," that Christ was that physician, whose blood was a medicine which was able to cure and heal the sorest heart, he said, "Pray, then, that mine may be washed in it."

Sometimes he felt comforted in prayer, and wished others to pray for him. "My heart," said he, "is a little glad when I pray.” "Tell God's people to pray for me, that my sins may be pardoned."

He expressed great sorrow because he had not gone to school, nor listened to the missionaries when he had it in his power to do so. There were missionaries in that part of Caffreland where he lived, before he was put in jail for murdering the little boy, and he might have heard about Christ from them, but he would not; and now he wondered at the goodness of the missionaries in coming to him to tell him about the Saviour. And, oh! what a happy thing would it have been for Keyoyo, if he had only been wise enough to listen to the missionaries, and follow Christ. He would not then have been guilty of the cruel act of killing the innocent boy. His brow would not have been branded with shame, nor his conscience filled with remorse. Neither would he have died on the scaffold a violent

and disgraceful death.

But the good missionaries did not leave Keyoyo, although formerly