A DISTINGUISHED traveler narrates the following incidents: "Being at Calais, I climbed up into the lighthouse and conversed with the keeper. 'Suppose,' said I, 'that one of these lights should go out!' 'Never! impossible!' he cried, with a sort of consternation at the bare hypothesis. 'Sir,' said he pointing to the ocean, 'yonder, where nothing can be seen, there are ships going by to every part of the world. If to-night one of my burners were to go out, within six months would come a letter, perhaps from India, perhaps from America, perhaps from some place I never heard of, saying, on such a night, at such an hour, the light of Calais burned dim, the watchman neglected his post, and vessels were in danger. Ah, sir, sometimes, in the dark nights, in the stormy weather, I look out to sea, and feel as if the whole world were looking at my light. Go out! Burn dim! O never!'" That keeper truly felt the responsibility of his position. His duty was to keep lights continually burning during the night for the guidance of vessels. The Christian is a light-house keeper. The world is enveloped in moral darkness. This is not merely an accident or attribute of its condition, but its essence and principal element. It is a darkness that pervades and overshadows all human society. But over this darkness a light has shined. Christ has established light-houses to warn souls, rushing to eternal shipwreck, of their danger. The lives of Christians are to be living illustrations and positive proofs of the personal practicability of the religion of Christianity. These are to be absolute demonstrations of the practical worth of professed piety. Each Christian has charge of a light-house in which is a lamp of many burners. By each burner some soul is guided. If all are shining brightly many souls are illuminated; if any one should burn dim, some day he will learn that sad were the consequences of his neglect. A soul may be stranded upon the quick-sands of perdition because his light was dim. He should, therefore, feel the responsibilities that devolve upon him. Important is the position of the guardian of the French beacon, and terrible might be the consequences of his failure to do his duty; but of infinite importance is the duty of the Christian light-house keeper, and infinitely terrible the fruits of his neglect. He should feel that the eyes of the whole world are upon him, yea that God sees his every thought, word, and action. By his fruit will he be known on earth as well as rewarded in heaven. The world is watching him with scrutinizing glance. Some will be influenced by his example. Souls, not ships, are sailing by his light. Did each Christian feel the vast responsibilities of his position, as did the Calais light-house keeper the one he held, wonderful and sudden would be the moral transformation. The word of the Lord would have free course and be glorified. All churches would be constantly increasing in numbers. Ten souls would be converted where one is now. May we all be more vigilant. May we let our light so shine, that in eternity we may learn that no souls have perished through our unfaithfulness; but may we be among those who, sustained and triumphing by Almighty grace, having turned many to righteousness, shall shine as the brightness of the firmament and as the stars for ever and ever.—Methodist Protestant.