"Hearer, decide! which will you choose? TEMPERANCE, with happiness and long life; or INTEMPERANCE, with misery and premature death?"

Frederick the Great being informed of the death of one of his chaplains, a man of considerable learning and piety, determined that his successor should not be behind him in these qualifications, took the following method of ascertaining the merits of one of the numerous candidates for the appointment :-He told the applicant that he would himself furnish him with a text the following Sunday, when he was to preach at the royal chapel, from which he was to make an extempore sermon. The clergyman accepted the proposition. The whim of such a probationary discourse was spread abroad widely, and at an early hour the royal chapel was crowded to excess. The king arrived at the end of the prayers, and on the candidate's ascending the pulpit, one of his majesty's aides-de-camp presented him with a sealed paper. The preacher opened it, and found nothing therein. He did not, however, lose his presence of mind; but turning the paper on both sides, he said:"My brethren, here is nothing, and there is nothing; out of nothing God created all things;" and proceeded to deliver a most admirable discourse upon the wonders of Creation.

Louis XIV. said one day to Massillon, after hearing him preach at Versailles: "Father, I have heard many great orators in this chapel; I have been highly pleased with them; but for you, whenever I hear you, I go away displeased with myself, for I see more of my own character." This has been considered the finest encomium ever bestowed upon a preacher.

When Massillon ascended the pulpit, on the death of that prince, he contemplated for a moment the impressive. spectacle -the chapel draped in black-the magnificent mausoleum raised over the bier-the dim but vast apartment filled with the trophies of the glory of the monarch, and with the most illustrious persons in the kingdom. He looked down on the

gorgeous scene beneath, then raised his arms to heaven and said, in a solemn, subdued tone, "Mes frères, Dieu seul est grand" "God only is great." With one impulse, all the audience rose, turned to the altar, and reverently bowed.

When Dr. Hussey preached at Watford, on the small num-. ber of the elect, he asked, "Whether, if the arch of heaven were to open, and the Son of Man should appear to judge his hearers, it were quite certain that one of us," he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, "would be saved?" During the whole of this apostrophe, the audience was agonized. At the ultimate interrogation, we are told, there was a general shriek, and some fell to the ground.

M. Brideine, a French missionary, and the peer of the most renowned orators of that eloquent nation, preached a sermon at Bagnole. At the end of it, he lifted up his arms, and thrice cried in a loud voice, "O, Eternity!" At the third repetition of this awful cry, the whole audience fell upon their knees. During three days, consternation pervaded the town. In the public places, young and old were heard crying aloud, "O Lord, mercy!"

Rather a remarkable incident is related of the preaching of the venerable Dr. Beecher. Many years ago he was engaged to officiate in Ohio; it was in the depth of winter, and the roads were nearly impassable with snow, yet the doctor pursued his journey, and, on reaching the church, found not a single individual there. With his characteristic decision of purpose, he ascended the pulpit, and waited the arrival of his congregation. One solitary person at length entered, and the doctor commenced the service. At the conclusion, he hastened to greet his auditor, but he had vanished. Some score of years subsequently the parties accidentally met, when the pleasing fact was communicated to the doctor, that that sermon had proved the means of his conversion, and that hel had since become himself a minister over a large congregation.

The following anecdote illustrates the peculiarities of character of Western pioneer life, as well as of a certain "presiding elder," Peter Cartwright. When the State of Illinois was admitted into the Union, it was as a free State. Not long after, the question was largely discussed whether the Constitution of the State should not be so amended as to permit Slavery. Cartwright, who then resided in Tennessee, was a strong opponent of Slavery, and determined to remove to Illinois to take part in the settlement of the question. So he was appointed "Presiding Elder," over a district about as large as England. He kept his appointments, and after preaching on Sunday, was wont to announce that on Monday he would deliver a "stump speech." He soon became regarded as a politician, and no little anger was excited against him. One day coming to a ferry across the river, where he was not personally known, he heard the ferryman holding forth to a crowd in bitter terms against that "old renegade," prefixing sundry emphatic expletives to that flattering term-Pete Cartwright, declaring that he would drown him if he ever came that way. After a while, Peter engaged the ferryman to put him over. They were alone in the boat, and when they had reached the centre of the stream, in full sight of the shore, the preacher, throwing the bridle of his horse over a post, ordered the ferryman to put down his pole. "What is the matter ?" asked the ferryman. "You have just been making free with my name, and threatening to drown me in the river. I want to give you a chance. to do so." "You are Pete Cartwright, are you?" My name is Peter, Cartwright," replied the preacher. The ferryman, nothing loath, laid down his pole, and the contest began. The preacher proved the better man, and seizing his antagonist by the nape of the neck and the seat of his nether garments, plunged him three times under water. Then holding his head out of the water, he asked, "Did you ever pray?" "No," was the reply. "Then it is time you should. I will teach you. Do you repeat after me, 'Our Father, who art in Heaven.'" The

ferryman refused, and down went his head under water, and there it was held long enough, as Peter thought, to conquer his reluctance. He raised him up, and repeated his demand. "Let me breathe," gasped the ferryman. Give me a few minutes to think about it." "Not a moment," and under went his head again. The inquiry was again put, when the ferryman's head was next raised, "Will you pray now ?" "Yes, I'll do anything," and the fellow obediently repeated the Lord's Prayer, after the dictation of Cartwright. "Now let me up," he added. “No, not yet," replied the inexorable Peter. "You must make me three promises before I let you up. First, you must promise to pray every night and morning as long as you live; then you must promise to put every Methodist preacher who comes along over the river for nothing; and lastly, you must promise hereafter to attend every meeting of the Methodists held within four miles of you." The whole transaction took place in full view of the ferryman's comrades on the shore, but the intervening river insured "fair play," and the ferryman felt himself in Cartwright's hands. He promised faithfully to do all that was demanded of him. The transit across the river was finished; the preacher went on his way; the ferryman kept his word, and in course of time was converted, and became a shining light in the church.* Earnest men were these old preachers. Their souls were firmly convinced of the truth of what they had to say. Rugged in their exterior, like those among whom they mingled, they yet seem to have exhibited much of the stern decision of character and deep-seated piety, that signalized the church in the days of the non-conformists. Their self-denial and heroism were none the less noble, because unchronicled; and, although this type of the pioneer missionary is fast fading away, yet the border legends of the West preserve the memory of those who have lived to make the wilderness become a fruitful field, in more senses than one.

*Rev. Mr. Milburn.

Dean Swift was once solicited to preach a sermon for the benefit of the poor. When the time arrived, he arose and selected his text: "He who giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord." "Now," said he, "my brethren, if you are satisfied with the security, down with the dust." He then took his seat, and there was an enormous collection.

The Rev. Sydney Smith, preaching a charity sermon, frequently repeated the assertion that, of all nations, Englishmen were most distinguished for generosity and the love of their species. The collection happened to be inferior to his expectations, and he said that he had evidently made a great mistake, for that his expression should have been, that they were distinguished for the love of their specie.

He once said, in speaking of the prosy nature of some sermons, "they are written, as if sin were to be taken out of man, like Eve out of Adam-by putting him to sleep."

Dr. Barrow once preached so long, that all his congregation dropped off, leaving the sexton and himself alone. The sexton finding the doctor apparently no nearer a conclusion, said to him, "Sir, here are the keys, please to lock up the church, when you get through your discourse."

Whitfield, when preaching at Princeton, New Jersey, detecting one of his auditory fast asleep, came to a pause, and deliberately spoke as follows: "If I had come to speak to you in my own name, you might question my right to interrupt your indolent repose; but I have come in the name of the Lord of Hosts" (and accompanying these words with a heavy blow upon the pulpit), he roared out, "and I must and will be heard." This had the effect of awakening the sleeper; and on his perceiving it, his reverence eyed him significantly, saying, Aye, Aye, I have waked you up, have I? I meant to do it." This suggests another similar incident; we forget the name of the party or the place; however, the circumstances were as follows. A clergyman was once preaching, in the sultry summer-time, when many of his hearers yielded to the soporific