NOTES ON WESLEYAN-METHODISM. court. Its power is also limited to the affairs of the circuits within its own bounds. There is, moreover, this difference in its constitution: laymen, although they form a most important and esteemed part of the connexional committees, yet cannot, according to Wesleyan-Methodist law, have seats in the Conference; but the stewards of the respective circuits, and the treasurers of certain funds, are ex-officio members of the district committee during the transaction of its financial business, though not at its other sittings. Of the district meetings as now recognised, two are regular, and three occasional. About two months before Conference in each year, the regular annual district meeting is held, and, generally speaking, all the matters relating to the district into which the Conference will inquire are considered and arranged. In the month of September, the financial district meeting is regularly held. This, as its little imports, has chiefly to do with the finances of the several circuits ascertaining what the pecuniary demands for the coming year will be, and consulting how they may most effectually be met. The occasional and rare meetings are, the "special district meeting," which may be called for by the resistance of a local (circuit) court to the constitutional administration of discipline by the pastor, or by the unfaithfulness of a minister who betrays his trust and joins with factious men in fomenting discord and disloyalty in the societies;--the "mixed district meeting," which may be summoned by the trustees, stewards, and leaders of a society, for the trial of a preacher whom they accuse of immorality, doctrinal unsoundness, or want of ability, and in which they may sit and vote, exercising a co-ordinate right with the ministers to judge of the guilt or innocence of the accused party; and the "minor district meeting," composed of five ministers-two chosen by the accused or the aggrieved party, and two by the accuser or the alleged aggressor; these four, with the chairman of the district, having authority to try certain cases in which it does not deem necessary to assemble the whole district committee. From the decision of this minor court, there is an appeal to the regular district meeting; but from the decision of all these inferior jurisdictions there is reserved to all parties the right of appeal to the supreme court-the Conference. The QUARTERLY MEETING is a local court, confined to the bounds of one circuit, but within those bounds, highly influential. Its constitution has not been very clearly defined by any official regulation; but it includes, with the ministers, at least some of the trustees, stewards, local preachers, and leaders, and other members of the society, specially appointed to take part in its proceedings. It has no judicial power to try or censure any parties. Its ordinary business is to audit the accounts of the circuit and 173 society stewards-to consider claims on the contingent fund, preparatory to their being laid before the district committee-and proposals respecting the building and enlargement of chapels, in order to their being submitted to the chapel building committee, and contemplated divisions of circuits, and (as before stated) the fitness of candidates nominated for the ministry. The September quarterly meeting has power to suspend, for that year, as respects its own circuit, the operation of any new general rule made by the preceding Conference. The March quarterly meeting has the right to fix upon the ministers whom they desire for the ensuing year, and to request the Conference to appoint them. The LEADERS' MEETING is constituted of the leaders of the several "classes" in a society. It meets weekly. The local powers of leaders' meetings are considerable. They are thus summed up by the Rev. Edmund Grindrod, in his well-digested "Compendium of the Laws and Regulations of Wesleyan-Methodism: " They have now a veto upon the admittance of members into the society, when appealed to in such cases by any parties concerned; they possess the power of a jury in the trial of accused members; without their consent, no leader or steward can be appointed to office or removed from it, excepting when the crime proved merits exclusion from membership, in which case, the superintendent can at from the society. Without their consent, in cononce depose the offender from office, and expel him junction with the trustees of the chapel to which their meeting is attached, the sacrament of the Lord's supper cannot be administered [introduced for the first time] in the said chapel; and the fund for the relief of poor and afflicted members of the society is distributed under their direction and manage ment. The LOCAL PREACHERS' MEETING is held quarterly. It is composed of men who are during the week engaged in secular business, but who, under the influence of a love for souls, have felt it a duty to warn sinners to flee from the wrath to come, and have, after due trials, been placed on the local preachers' plan. It is impossible to calculate how much WesleyanMethodism owes to the labours of its local preachers. The meeting examines into the official conduct of its members, and considers the qualifications of probationers and new candidates. The TRUSTEES' MEETING consists of persons, necessarily members of the Wesleyan Church, who have been appointed to hold certain parts of the connexional property in trust, subject to the connexional rules and usages. Their meetings are held in accordance with the provisions of their respective deeds, and its business relates altogether to the execution of their different trusts. From this notice of the Church Courts of Wesleyan-Methodism, we proceed to take a brief view of its Connexional Institutions. A DEPARTED CHILD TO ITS PARENTS. KIND parents! why those tears? No weeping here bedims Your little loved one's eyes. The shades of eve, you know, Were hastening along, When my freed spirit left, To soar the stars among. Yet long before the night Had drawn her veil around The home I left below, A better had I found. So rapidly the soul Unbodied takes its flight, That scarce earth's scenery failed, When heaven's broke on my sight. Did not you, mother, see That bright celestial band That smiled and beckoned me, And held the inviting hand? They let me stay a while, To hear my mother pray, And see her close my eyes, And kiss the unconscious clay. And then to heaven we flewThe cherubs led the way; But my rapt spirit smiled As joyously as they. Father! I never knew 'Twas such a place as this-That heaven you told me of Was quite so full of bliss. Oh! there is music here! O'er these ethereal plains. And shall I tell you who In this most glorious place? 'Twas grand-pa-honoured name! No more with age opprest, Or toil-for in this world Are youth and endless rest. Those hoary hairs no more Stray o'er his furrowed brow, But locks of brightest hue Adorn his temples now, His trembling voice is changed; And Mary! sister's here; She has a cherub's wingCan reach their loftiest flightsTheir noblest anthems sing. Dear parents! weep no more And joys we may not tell. Oh! live and serve the Lord, THE FATAL MARRIAGE. FEW dangers are more formidable to the young than that of forming flattering but pernicious friendships. This is the snare into which I have seen many fall-the rock on which thousands have been destroyed. Many who have left the paternal roof with good principles and good habits, or even with the most promising symptoms of piety, have yielded to the seductions of irreligious friends, or of pleasing connections; and have either been at once turned from the paths of virtue and religion, or have entered into some rash and unwise engagement, which has made the rest of life wretched, and supplied matter for unceasing regret and repentance. The great errors which I have ob... served in pious young persons, when they are;' entering upon life, are, their too great confidence in the outside appearance of human friendships; an unwillingness to ask the advice of experienced and judicious friends; and a want of settled principle in the formation of the matrimonial connection. It is in reference to this latter point that I have enjoyed the opportunity of extensive observation, and have' in my recollection, at this moment, several instances of the lamentable results to which an unequal and prohibited union between the religious and irreligious has proved introductory. The following narrative may serve as a speci-' men of a numerous class of cases, and will illustrate to the young reader the extreme peril to the interest both of body and soul, of being guided by the impulse of passion, rather than by sound judgment and scriptural rules. In In my youthful days I was placed by Providence in a large and populous town, where I enjoyed the privilege of attending on the mini-', stry of a valued and venerable minister. connection with many pious young persons, I was engaged in various designs of usefulnesssometimes in visiting the sick, in teaching schools, in circulating tracts, and itinerating THE FATAL MARRIAGE. to the neighbouring villages. These occupa tions brought me into connection with various excellent and devoted individuals, some of whom have passed to their reward, while others, like myself, are still sojourning in the wilder ness. 175 his piety. We accordingly obtained an interview, and each, in turn, besought our friend to pause, and listen to our united remonstrances. For hours we pursued our argument, and viewed his case on all sides. He heard us, I cannot say with indifference, but without conviction; and we parted, without any satisfactory evidence, either that the object of his affection was likely to prove a help meet for him, or that he was likely to cast off the guidance of passion, and yield himself to the laws of Jesus Christ. From this time, as might be expected, our friend avoided our society; declined engaging in those labours of Christian benevolence in which we had formerly been united; and, though he did not forsake the public means of religion, evinced an awful departure from that life and power of godliness which former days had witnessed. The regret felt by his religious connections, who had been interested in his character and labours, was indeed great and general; but it was too evident that an unlawful affection had got the mastery of his heart, and that everything would be prostrated before it. Among these was a youth to whom, on account of his affectionate disposition and great devotedness to the labours of Christian love, I felt powerfully attracted. We were companions in many an errand of mercy. We laboured strenuously in the same Sabbath-school. We often penetrated together the haunts of poverty and sickness, and frequently mingled our petitions and thanksgivings at the throne of grace. In short, I have reason to think that our friendship was mutually pleasant and profitable, and that it bade fair to last as long as life. This youth paid an occasional visit, for a few weeks, to the metropolis. Here he was thrown into company with a young lady, for whom he contracted a strong regard. Some time passed by before I became acquainted with the fact. A correspondence had been opened, and mutual pledges of affection offered and received, before Time rolled on, and in a few months our Idiscovered either that the connection was alto- friend was united to the object of his choice. gether an improper one, or that any such ac- She had promised fair, and flattered his hopes quaintance had commenced. At last, however, upon the subject of religion. All his fears were I heard the report with grief and astonishment. quieted, under the expectation that after this I took the earliest opportunity of inviting my union, he should certainly be able to draw her friend to a private walk, when I introduced the to God, and to return himself to the fervour and Isubject, and expressed my concern to know activity of former days. The union led to the whether he had carefully considered the evi- | removal of our friend from amidst the circle of dence of the young lady's piety, or whether he his religious acquaintance. He settled in the had weighed the scriptural injunctions against metropolis-attended a large place of worship, unsuitable connections in marriage. He con- where little notice was taken of him, and no fessed readily that such an acquaintance had pastoral eye extended over his movements. commenced, and that he had no satisfactory For a short time he was steady, and his partner evidence of the lady's piety; but alleged, that die conformed; but at length he yielded to worldly had known people become pious after marriage; temptations-his resolution relaxed, and step that he could see no great sin in his marrying by step he began to go back, till worldly amusean unconverted woman, provided he did not ments and extravagances, together with a rising himself forsake the ways of God; stating at the family, involved him in embarrassments, which same time his hope, that he should be able to he had no means of overcoming. Trouble belead his young female acquaintance into the gan to hedge up his way and to make it thorny, paths of piety. Here, for the present, the mat- but still he returned not to the Lord his God. ter ended; and I resolved to wait a few weeks, Ruin in his circumstances soon followed, and and observe carefully the effect of this new and with a wife and four or five children he was thoughtless step upon his mind, reserving my cast upon the world. Yet, in the midst of main attack upon his resolution for a future these calamities, he continued insensible to the period, when I might be better prepared to sin of his former conduct, and satisfied with the show the positive evils that must result from steps he had pursued. So truly was the Word the consummation of his purpose, and when I of God fulfilled in this backslider, he had harmight hope the ardour of his first feelings dened his neck against reproof-he had refused would have subsided. I accordingly waited a the instruction of wisdom, and the admonitions month or two, and then chose my opportunity, of his Christian brethren, and God had given and selected two young friends, who, like my-him up to his own heart's lusts. Some Christian self, were intimate with the individual, and were grieved to find into how bewitching and ruinous a snare he had fallen. We had already observed, with deep pain, the decline in his spiritual feelings which had begun to work, and the undermining power of this new attachment, which seemed already to threaten the ruin of friends visited him in his troubles, but they found him neither humble nor well-disposed to retain their friendship. The consequence was an entire alienation in both parties. I have sometimes since thought, perhaps, we did wrong in altogether allowing him to escape from our view. We might have led him to repent, and return to the Lord from whom he had revolted; but, in the immense population of London, we lost sight of him for a considerable period. At length some of his early acquaintances discovered that he had been reduced to the necessity of keeping a public-house. They found him out, visited him, but could make no spiritual impression upon his mind. He had sunk into a state of total apathy, and though he received them in a respectful manner, yet it was too evident that he had totally declined from the ways of God. Thus was this promising youth reduced from a station of respectability, to a line of life little compatible with domestic comfort, and from the most promising beginnings of a religious course, to an utter abandonment of everything like vital godliness. He subsequently prospered in his worldly circumstances, but appeared to have made shipwreck of faith and of a good conscience. I have now, for more than twenty years, lost sight of the man "with whom I took sweet counsel, and went to the house of God in company." I have no reason to think he ever rereturned to the fold of Christ. I know not whether he is yet alive, for a wide separation of residence, and other circumstances, have put it out of my power to ascertain. But these melancholy facts have ever lived in my memory, as a warning against the danger of forming improper connections in youth; and should this brief narrative be the means of producing or confirming in any young mind sound and scriptural views of the importance of choosing none but a truly pious partner for life, the end of the writer will be thus far attained.-From the Pastor's Sketch-Book. SKETCHES. CONVERSION OF A SOCIALIST TEACHER. A FEW years since Atheism, under the name of Owenism, had become bold in many of the populous towns of the kingdom, and had drawn around its❘ standard a very considerable number of the vicious and ignorant. Some who had grown old in the ways of Infidelity took the lead, and rejoiced to see in most places a revival of their cause by the accession of so many of the young. What joy they could find in secing them turn from the paths of virtue to those of vice, and from the faith of their fathers and friends to the no-creed of Infidelity, it is difficult to understand-save that wickedness is weak in isolation, and becomes bold by companionship. So it was-rooms and halls of science, as they were called, were opened in various places, and every sort of amusement was employed to draw the ignorant and inexperienced to listen to the missionaries of Robert Owen. Many ministers of religion deemed it proper to point out the delusion and perils of these sceptics. Among the rest, the writer of these lines, seeing hundreds of working men, and with them many of the young and inquir ing, led away even on the Sabbath to listen to the pernicious ravings of these false teachers, deemed it a duty to call public attention to the subject, and to endeavour to expose the absurdities of the new system of morals, which, in fact, was a renunciation of all morals, and of all ground on which morality can stand. The announcement drew together a vast concourse of persons of various descriptions. Most of the disciples of Robert Owen in the town, to the number of several hundreds, were present. The service commenced with order and quietness, but the preacher had not entered far into his discourse before an attempt was made to create a riot. A pistol was fired in one of the lobbies of the chapel. Happily the precaution had been taken of placing some policemen to prevent disturbance, and the attempt to frighten the audience within completely failed. The preacher proceeded, and concluded his discourse without any further interruption. On the departure of the assembly, a young man was found opposite the gates of the chapel standing upon a low wall and attempting to address the people. It was soon discovered that he was advocating the cause of Socialism | and Infidelity, and inveighing against the preacher. Little attention was paid to him, and he was soon obliged to desist; for two or three intelligent persons encountered him, and very speedily he quitted his post. About six or eight months after this occurrence, that preacher of God's Word was requested to visit the same young man, who was reported to be exceedingly ill. He hastened to the bed-side of the youth, and found him rapidly sinking under the ravages of consumption. He stated his case to be as follows: He was the son of pious parents, and his father a respectable lay preacher among the Wesleyan-Methodists. He had acquired a tolerably good knowledge of the Bible, but had been seduced into the labyrinths! of doubt and scepticism by vicious companions, who had led him into connection with the Owenite lecturers, by whom he had been emboldened and assisted to stand forth as a teacher of their Atheistic blasphemies. In consequence of this entire perversion of his mind from religion, he had forsaken his family and connections, and given himself up to an abandoned and dissipated life. In less than a year the effect of such courses became visible in his constitution, and his conscience had now touched him in the prospect of death. He felt that he had been indeed a great sinner, and had turned out of the paths of righteousness and peace. The minister inquired if he had seen any of his Infidel companions, or if they had come to administer consolation to him in his present afflictive circumstances? He replied that he had sent to them and requested to see them, but not one of them would come near him. He wished to see them, that he might warn them of the wickedness and danger of their Infidelity. But they were afraid to encounter their former companion, now that his principles had wrought his ruin, and he was about to prove their futility in the prospect of death. For many weeks the minister attended upon this suffering and repentant young man, watched the progress of the mighty change which took place, and saw 1 GO AND TELL JESUS. with inexpressible delight the dawn of that hope which cannot make ashamed. The gracious Saviour, it is believed, accepted him as a restored prodigalfriends and neighbours rejoiced over him as a brand plucked from the burning. His last days were spent in a humble spirit of grief for his sins, and of affectionate faith in Him who healeth the broken heart. He died, expressing his hope of acceptance in Christ Jesus. The faith and hope of many were confirmed, and Infidelity was made ashamed; and since that day the cause of Socialism has gradually declined in the place. "Is anything too hard for the Lord?" RECOVERY OF A BACKSLIDER. A young tradesman of London, who had been con'nected, in the way of business, with one of the theatres, and was familiar with many of the actors and actresses, was removed from these scenes of temptation to a comparatively sequestered and retired town, where he was brought under the influence of religion, and in due course received into a Christian Church. For a time he maintained a consistent profession, but at length fell under the power of temptation-returned to his former associations, and was, of course, excluded from the fellowship of Christian people. For some years he abandoned all attention to religion, and gave himself wholly to the amusements and pleasures of the world. In the course of human events he was removed to a distant town, where he was drawn into a wider circle of gay companions. As a tradesman, he became eminently prosperous, and was esteemed a welcome and merry companion in the assemblies that spend their evenings in the inn parlour or coffeeroom. It was at one of these evening assemblies, where tradesmen meet to drink, and sing, and discuss politics or town scandal, that an occurrence took place which I am now about to state. An aged man of more than seventy, who had been spending his evening with a party of neighbours, rose to say good-night," but prefaced his farewell in words to the following effect: "Gentlemen," he said, "I am about to say good-night and good-by, for I am now more than seventy; and, as you know, I have been in the habit for many years of spending my evenings with you and others here, but I think it is now time for me to give this up, and try to prepare for another world. You will see me here among you no more. I wish you all happiness, and bid you farewell;" and with that he departed. A deep impression was produced upon the mind of our friend by this significant address. He soon after left the company, and returned at midnight to his home. But he returned thoughtful and serious. Former scenes and feelings passed through his memory. He thought, If this aged friend, after spending so many years in this course, feels he is unprepared for death, and gives up such a way of spending time to seek preparation for another world, I think I had better begin sooner, for I am not prepared for death and eternity." Under the influence of these thoughts he retired to rest. But his impressions were yet indistinct and slight, and might have worn off soon, but for a remarkable coincidence of circumstances. He had a child at school, who was brought home 177 for the midsummer holidays by his tutor that very evening. This person was to pass a day or two at the house; and at breakfast the next morning he stated that he should like to attend a public religious service connected with the opening of a place of worship at some distance; and that as his friend kept a horse and gig, he should feel obliged if he would lend it him, or drive him to the place. His request was well received, and speedily the parties were on their way. The first and second services passed; and as the distance was considerable, these gentlemen were about to order their carriage and return home, but the preacher appointed for the evening service met them, and being from the same town, and knowing something of the tutor, persuaded them, for companion-sake, to stay and accompany him back. They agreed to do so. The preacher took his text: "Be converted." The sermon reached the conscience of the backslider-it brought him to the deepest repentance, and to an unfeigned acceptance of divine mercy. From that hour he has not hesitated to renounce the ways of the world, and to seek his companions among those that fear God. For many years he has been walking in the ways of the Lord, and enjoying the peace and hope of the Gospel-an ornament to the Christian name, and endeavouring, both by his talents and property, to make himself useful in the Church of God. How apparently trivial, and to us fortuitous, are those turning-points upon which the most important events are afterwards found to depend! The wise arrangement of events perfectly independent as to their apparent causes becomes essential to the issue. The parties concerned in them see not to what they are tending-if they did, perhaps, they would labour to counteract or prevent it. But an all-comprehending, all-controlling Providence silently but infallibly pursues its own gracious ends. GO AND TELL JESUS. HEROD "sent and beheaded John in the prison." And what did the disciples do ?-attempt to avenge his death? No. Sit down disconsolate because their master is taken away? No. They bury the body, and go and tell Jesus. Here, thought I, is the way to find relief when wants oppress, when troubles come. In all the wrongs we suffer, in all our griefs, in all our sorrows, in all our bereavements, what so proper, so likely to afford relief, as to go and tell Jesus? That is the panacea for the soul. We may safely recommend it to all. None have ever tried it in vain. We visit the poor. A half-famished group cluster around the parents, while they unbosom to us their wants and their fears. Stern winter is coming on, and they know not how they are to be warmed or to be fed. We may sympathize with them-we may open for them the liberal hand of charity; but these are not enough. We would urge them to go and tell Jesus their wants and their fears. He who had not where to lay his head is the friend of the poor. We sit down by the side of one burdened with a sense of sin. She is almost sinking in despair. She tells us of the malady of her soul. She has felt the stirrings of the Spirit, but now it is gone. She fears her day of grace is past, that she has sinned it away. Her heart is hard-it will not feel. The promises, so precious to some, meet her eyes, but they do not reach |