THE THEATRE RENOUNCED.

SOME years ago a member of a highly respectable family in Edinburgh proceeded to India, there to engage as a medical practitioner. In his own land he had lived without God, and had given painful proof that "the carnal mind is enmity against God." But in the stranger-land the heart of a child was given him-the "new heart" and the "right spirit," and he became a willing disciple in the day of his Master's power. The love of Christ in his soul not only opened up before him new prospects, filled him with new desires, and satisfied his soul with good things, but it sent forth the energies of his new-born spirit in earnest longings, intercessions, and zeal on behalf of his numerous relatives. Many were the earnest and affectionate appeals which he made to his family at home. Letter after letter arrived, breathing the ardour of a heart which had been taught to flee from the wrath to come, and whose sole object now was to cry aloud to those most dear to him, lest they should perish in their sins-" Escape for your life." The effect produced upon his relatives by his faithful and affectionate testimony in favour of Jesus was great indeed. To the praise of the glory of divine grace it must be recorded, that out of a large family circle not one ultimately remained uninfluenced. The flame sped from heart to heart. But there was one who at first, while others had been receiving and yielding to the sacred impression, resolutely stood out against the influence which his anxious relative at a distance sought to exert over him. He firmly resisted it too, when it was made to bear upon him by those members of the family who had themselves become new creatures in Christ Jesus. He met all the efforts of those around him with a spirit of determined opposition; at one time arguing against their views as wrong, and at another time ridiculing them as foolish. The communications of his brotherin-law were treated by Montague Stanley as the utterances of one who was sanctimonious and righteous overmuch.

Mr. Stanley was at that time holding a high place in the estimation of the theatrical public of Edinburgh. In the characters which he undertook to play he had no competitor worthy of notice. His history from a child had been such as at every point to present features of deep interest. His father was in the navy, and with himn, accompanied by his mother and

of the moral Governor of the universe upon his obedience were felt. The evil of sin burdened his attempted to take away the sting from the convictions e strictest attention to all the demands of the moral gion was not only respected, but its observances Red to. Family worship was commenced in the d every oath or expression of irreverence was carenged from the parts which he had to commit to methe stage. But the same Spirit, which had quickened a sense of the guilt of sin, left him not to the vain of justifying himself before God. It was not selfsness, but Christ's righteousness that could bring peace ind. He betook himself to Christ, who died "the just injust." And now he felt that he must show his love to by keeping his commandments-that his delight and must henceforth be to do the will of Him who had and saved him. But might not all this be done without the stage? It was the pursuit which he loved; and made it the choice of his youth and the delight of his hood, having devoted to it the strength of his mind and the r of his days, it was natural that these circumstances ld have thrown a glittering but deceptive veil over the gements of the theatre, which prevented him from perring their real character. But solemn and serious considerns from time to time pressed upon him, until at length, by grace of God, he was enabled, with the true discernment one who has passed from death unto life, to see at once e necessity and the privilege of giving up all for Christ. The following reflections, written by Mr. Stanley in 1837, ill serve to illustrate the foregoing remarks. They show the radual breaking away of the mists of darkness from the mind; they mark the struggle of a soul in the course of being freed from its bondage:"July, 1837. I was passing slowly along one of those crowded by-streets which serve as links of connexion between two others of magnitude, and in which is situated a small theatre, when my attention was arrested by an object that forcibly struck me, from the singular contrast it presented to another and a very different one. At an angle of the building, which abruptly recedes from the direct line of the street, and at some height from the ground, a large door was med in a wall of the theatre, apparently for the purposes ceiving and hoisting into the building objects of consi

magnitude. It was closed, while beneath it on the t lay one of those mimicries of nature used in the pageants of a drama-the scenic representation of

sister, he crossed the Atlantic when only fourteen months old. The family settled at New York. When there about two years his father died, and Montague, though but a child, was the chief solace of his remaining parent in the season of bereavement. Affectionate, intelligent beyond most of his age, every one who knew the boy became attached to him. When he was about seven years of age his mother went to reside at Halifax, in Nova Scotia. There he appears to have contracted his love for the stage. It was a pursuit which presented peculiar attractions to his mind. It afforded scope for the indulgence of his feelings of romance, while it seemed to open a pleasant and easy way to distinction. Before he had completed his eighth year, he took part in some private theatricals which were held at the government-house, and success followed him even then.

In 1819 young Stanley sailed for England with his mother and a younger brother and sister, and after encountering great danger, and enduring considerable privations, the family reached Liverpool in safety.

Soon after, Montague's friends advised him to enter the theatrical profession. His own inclination and tastes seem to have suggested their advice, and there does not appear to have been any one near him inclined to give him better counsel, or to direct his mind to a better course. When but fifteen years of age he was engaged by the manager of the York Theatre, and from that time he continued to rise in his profession, winning public fame on every hand, and becoming more especially popular in Edinburgh. Here at length he settled, and formed a matrimonial connexion with the family of which we have spoken -by marrying the sister of that medical practitioner whose voyage to India had been overruled for such blessed effects to himself, and whose efforts were now so earnest for the spiritual welfare of his relatives at home.

It has already been stated that the communications of his brother-in-law were decidedly unwelcome to Mr. Stanley. And yet by an attentive observer it might be clearly seen that frequently the very vehemence of his opposition indicated a secret misgiving in his own heart that after all he might be wrong, and Dr. Eright. Appeal was made to the New Testament, to its precepts, to its principles. That appeal was fatal to his peace. Gradually the stoutness of the natural heart gave way, and breach after breach was made in the stern defences which unbelief had raised around his soul. "The strong man armed" had kept possession for many a year, but now the "stronger than he" entered in, Luke xi. 21, 22.

The claims of the moral Governor of the universe upon his affection and obedience were felt. The evil of sin burdened his heart. He attempted to take away the sting from the convictions of sin, by the strictest attention to all the demands of the moral law. Religion was not only respected, but its observances were attended to. Family worship was commenced in the evening, and every oath or expression of irreverence was carefully expunged from the parts which he had to commit to memory for the stage. But the same Spirit, which had quickened him into a sense of the guilt of sin, left him not to the vain attempt of justifying himself before God. It was not selfrighteousness, but Christ's righteousness that could bring peace to his mind. He betook himself to Christ, who died "the just for the unjust." And now he felt that he must show his love to Christ by keeping his commandments-that his delight and pleasure must henceforth be to do the will of Him who had loved and saved him. But might not all this be done without leaving the stage? It was the pursuit which he loved; and having made it the choice of his youth and the delight of his manhood, having devoted to it the strength of his mind and the vigour of his days, it was natural that these circumstances should have thrown a glittering but deceptive veil over the engagements of the theatre, which prevented him from perceiving their real character. But solemn and serious considerations from time to time pressed upon him, until at length, by the grace of God, he was enabled, with the true discernment of one who has passed from death unto life, to see at once the necessity and the privilege of giving up all for Christ.

The following reflections, written by Mr. Stanley in 1837, will serve to illustrate the foregoing remarks. They show the gradual breaking away of the mists of darkness from the mind; they mark the struggle of a soul in the course of being freed from its bondage:"July, 1837. I was passing slowly along one of those crowded by-streets which serve as links of connexion between two others of magnitude, and in which is situated a small theatre, when my attention was arrested by an object that forcibly struck me, from the singular contrast it presented to another and a very different one. At an angle of the building, which abruptly recedes from the direct line of the street, and at some height from the ground, a large door was formed in a wall of the theatre, apparently for the purposes of receiving and hoisting into the building objects of considerable magnitude. It was closed, while beneath it on the pavement lay one of those mimicries of nature used in the gorgeous pageants of a drama-the scenic representation of