The Sun.
London, England, 1860-12-21 00:00:00

THE WORD IN SEASON.

"Here was a popular preacher of the right sort; one
really mighty to rouse souls out of a state of lethargy and
dulness.
"Amongst the various anecdotes, some striking, some
affecting, which he poured forth out of his cornucopia over
the assembly, I particularly remember the following,which
he related in the most admirable manner :
" ' Some years ago, one of the most remarkable of the
so-called street preachers in London was a man named
Rowland Hill. One day the rich and worldly Lady Erskine
came driving in her carriage, across the very square where
he was preaching. Seeing the crowd assembled round him
she ordered her carriage to stop, and inquired what was
going forward, and was told that it was Rowland Hill who
was preaching to the people. She had heard speak of him,
and, curious to hear him herself, she alighted from her car-
riage, and, accompanied by her servants, made her way into
the crowd, which immediately opened or the elegant lady.
And at once, without suffering hi esself to be disturbed by
her presence, Rowland exclaimed—
"' M y friends, here comes a soul which is to be put up
for auction.'
"The people were startled, and some laughed. 'This
rich, grand lady to be sold by auction I' Lady Erskine
advanced nearer, and Rowland Hill continued—
"' I see three buyers about, to bid for her. The first is
called the World. ' Well, what wilt thou give, 0 World,
for this soul ?' The World replies, ' Pleasures, ornaments,
flatteries, festivities for every day of her life.' All plea-
sures, flatteries, and and festivities will come to an end,
whilst this soul will last on, because it is immortal ! It is
too little which thou offerest, 0 World, and thou canst not
have her.' Now comes the second bidder, it is the Devil.
' How much, Satan, wilt thou bid for this soul ?" All the
power of the world and the glory thereof.' But all the
pewor of the world and its glorywill pass away, whilst this
soul will last on. Thou canst not have her, Satan, for
thou offerest too little 1' The third bidder presents himself.
Oh, that is the Lord Jesus ! I expected no less of Thee, 0
Lord I ' What, then, dost Thou bid for this soul ?" My
peace in this life, and after it eternal bliss !" Take her,
Lord, take her I She is thine, for a higher price no one can
offer l'
" Berthollet added, that Lady Erskine was so affected
by these words that she made there a profession of the
truth—she abandoned her worldly life of vanity, and
became cne of the principal supporters of the English
church."

THE MOUNTAIN MEMORIAL.
"And the hero of the scene—hast thou, my R., ever
heard speak of Mont Blanc ? In that case thou hest heard
that it is a snow-covered mountain of Savoy, near 15,000
feet high ; and thou hast in spirit—if thou hest not seen
Mont Blanc in reality—beheld an icy giant raise his crown
towards tho stars. But from Geneva and the district
around, from which the most beautiful view of the giant
mountain is obtained, it seems merely like an immense
snow hill, with many ter aces. Its mass, its dazzling
whiteness, Ds soft, rounded form, rivet the glance with an
imposing power, which has, at the same time, a something
tranquillising and agreeable in it, especially when, in an
evening, the giant is tinted by the light of the descending
sun. The beautiful profile of Napoleon which is seen por-
trayed in the highest outlines of the mountain, and which
it is impossible to avoid seeing when you have once become
aware of it, adds also to the grandeur of its physiognomy.
From the Quai Mont Blanc, and from Rousseau's island,
one sees it, together with the whole chain of the Savoy
Alps, very perfectly.
" I spent yesterday afternoon and evening on Rousseau's
island, sitting in. and wandering about the lovely groves
around his statue, contemplating the Alps. They stood
out splendidly in the golden sunset, especially Napoleon's
image, which was illumined by its beams. They seemed
to me to shine with the peace of God upon the hero.
" He soundly sleeps on his bed of snow,
A calmer the world hath none—
He will die no more, he hath struck his last blow,
And his sentinel watch is the sun I"
The authoress gives the most thrilling and touch-
ing accounts of the striking scenes with which she
meets in her pilgrimage. The description of the
Missionary Institute at Basle is most interesting,
and no one can help feeling a mingled sensation of
regret and admiration for those who are about to
set off and wander in peril and toil in unthankful-
ness to spread the kingdom of their Master and
make His name worshipped, from the rising to the
setting of the sun. These men may be mistaken
in their views very often, and sometimes might
better employ their energies at home, but the real
missionary spirit is a noble one. Among those
proceeding to the coast of Africa, the writer was
much struck by the thoughtful expression
of ofie of the young men, and to him she
thought the words of the missionary's call might
be appropriately applied. These words might, in
their beauty and splendour, be applied to many
scenes of life, and prove the ruling passion to many
children of earth with benefit to, others and bless-
ings to themselves. " Why live I here, the vows of
God are on me, and I may not stop to play with
shadows and pluck earthly flowers till I my work
have done and rendered my account ;" " and when
I come to stretch me for the last in unattended
agony, beneath the palm's green shade, it will be
sweet that I have toiled for other worlds than this."
These sentiments might arouse and animate many
pilgrims in their progress to a better land, and urge
them to give a helping hand to others by their
advice, and, if not necessary to instruct them in the
vital truths of religion, they might teach them its
spirit in their lives of usefulness and love. The
second volume, on Italy, is more lively in its
details, but it is not so solemn and grand
as the pages on Svritzerland. It is most
deserving of perusal, however, and many will be
edified by the record given of the interview with
the Pope ; on the whole, so charming a book of its
kind is not often met with, and the readers of this
country are greatly indebted to Mrs. Howitt for
rendering its beauties and wonders into their own
language. The translation reflects great credit on
its executor, and a boon is conferred on the litera-
ture of two nations by its skilful and successful
achievement. A better conclusion cannot be given
to a notice of these volumes than in the final words
on Italy, which will be responded to by every
patriotic mind, and which speaks the sentiments
and expresses the hopes of all who would behold
the children of Italy more worthy of the fame of
their glorious sires :
TILE ITALIAN REGENERATION.
Yet, who does not praise the beauty of Italy, in her
scenery, her cities, and her art ?—but the peple of Italy,
who praises them? ii9Yir usual it is fur foreigners ti?