I look at him, and he at me; and then, when I exclaim,
"Oh dear, how very old you look!" my friend tells me the same.

I ask him now to take a chair, and then we sit and tell
Of days gone by, and boyish pranks, which we remember well;
And soon in serious mood we count how many since have died,
How few are left of all who once at school we sat beside.

I know that I am getting old, for if I only go

To the old town where, when a boy, I everybody knew,

As I walk through the market-place, or down each well-known street,
I scarcely know a single face of all the folks I meet.

They know not me, I know not them-men, women, girls, or boys,—
I am a stranger in the place, where once I knew the joys
Of home, and all the love and care which tender parents give―
But now, where once I lived and played, there others play and live.

Should I, when walking on the way, meet with some older man,
I look at him right earnestly to try if I can scan

Upon his wrinkled features now, some traces of that boy
Who once played with me on the green, all full of life and joy.

But "few and far between" are these; and yet if I should go
To yonder grave-yard, and read there the names of those below,
How many more I there can find who once I knew full well;
And more are gone-when, where, or how, no stone stands there
to tell.

There, too, in that old resting-place, my father and my mother,
With other of my kindred dear, and one beloved brother,
Now rest in peace, until that day when JESUS CHRIST shall come
To raise their sleeping dust again, and take them safely home.

This is my birth-day, and my years are six beyond threescore,
And I cannot expect that they will number many more;
'Tis true I've not attained yet the years my fathers knew,
But those which yet remain to me, if longer, are but few.

Yes: I myself am getting old, and soon I must, I know,
As all my father's have before, to Death's stern mandate bow;
Well let him come-I fear him not, nor all his dreaded power;
I know who conquer'd Death, and He will save me in that hour!

December 12th, 1860.

GOOD NEWS FROM JAMAICA.

AFTER hearing of the revivals of religion in the United States and Ireland, the ministers of religion in this island made earnest and constant prayer for the gift of the Spirit. It does not appear that there were any indications of the coming blessing during the visit of Messrs UNDERHILL and BROWN, the deputation from the Baptist Missionary Society. But since their return it came.

We hear that this awakening in Jamaica came on the people in a sudden and mysterious way. The first signs of it were seen among the Moravians, at Port Elizabeth, and the holy influence spread to other congregations and places. The Baptists are sharing in what is called "the mighty, mysterious, and glorious work." Many, as in Ireland, are stricken down. At one meeting about one hundred were prostrated, as on a battle field, while cries and prayers and tears were heard on every hand. The chapels are crowded, and kept open night and day, the people refusing to depart, eating oranges and sucking sugar-canes for their refreshment. The usual signs of reformation are displayed. Grog-shops closed, fiddles smashed, restitution for robbery made, and men and women, of former bad character, united in marriage; whilst ministers are worn out with labour night and day. personal help are greatly needed. "My soul is burning! My soul is woman, who had led a bad life. crying out for CHRIST. Many young people and children are among the penitents. The holy fire is spreading in all directions. A missionary says, "Oh that it may compass the whole land!"

Thousands of tracts and more Their horror of sin is awful. burning!" cried one wretched The best of all is, they are all

This is, indeed, good news. For several years past the emancipated negroes of Jamaica have not paid that attention to religion which they did in the days of slavery, giving occasion to the enemies of missions to rejoice, and causing great grief to the friends of piety and freedom. We may now hope that the tide of good feeling is flowing in again; and though it may, as in Ireland, carry along with it on its surface many weeds, and cause for a season much commotion, yet we hope the result will be a deposit of rich soil, on which, in years to come, fruits of righteousness will spring up to the praise and glory of the great Lord of the harvest. More than ever, prayer should be made in Britain, that the negroes of Jamaica, free now from all human bondage, may enter into the glorious liberty of the children of God, and thus be a pattern and an encouragement to their injured brethren who are yet in bonds.

THE BAPTIST TABERNACLE AND ITS YOUNG
PREACHER.

THE engraving on the opposite page will give our young friends some idea of the appearance of the spacious Baptist Tabernacle now in the course of erection in Southwark, London, and which, it is expected, will be opened for Divine worship within a few months. We shall not attempt a description of this vast edifice and all its accommodations at present; for that we shall be better able to do when it is completed. At present we shall try to give you some information respecting the Young Minister for whose ministrations it is intended.

Seldom only have the congregational churches, whether baptist or pædobaptist, produced and sent forth very young preachers. Their system of previous training not permitting such to appear prominently before the public until they had completed their regular course of instruction. The Wesleyan system, fifty or sixty years ago, was more favourable to the introduction of young preachers, and hence the early appearance of Dr. Adam Clarke, Richard Watson, and Robert Newton. Clarke, while yet "in his teens," was called the "boy preacher," Watson preached his first sermon when only fifteen, and Newton went "on circuit" before he was of age. Among the Baptists we do not recollect one who entered on the great work so early, while yet in "his teens," and who so rapidly attracted public notice as CHARLES HADDON SPURGEON.

From a pamphlet published three years ago, we select the facts we now furnish. It appears that Mr. S. was born at Kelvedon, in Essex, June 19, 1834. His father and grandfather were Independent ministers, and he had also the unspeakable advantage of being taught when a child by a pious mother. Hence his early acquaintance with domestic and public worship, the reading of the Bible and books of a religious character, in all of which he appears to have taken much delight.

Before he was six years old he could read with a tone and emphasis that were remarkable. His favourite author at this time was John Bunyan, with whose "Pilgrim's Progress" he was quite delighted.

It appears that he spent several years of his early life with his venerable grandfather, who observed of him, "I do not remember ever hearing of his speaking anything but the truth."

* "Sketch of the Life and Ministry of the Rev. C. H. Spurgeon.

London: G. J. Stevenson. Sixpence."