stairs to bed in the greatest state of darkness that ever I felt. I thought that all was a blank, and that there had been no reality in any of my past experience. I got into bed trembling with fear; and O the dreadful things which entered my mind! I felt myself to be a poor deluded wretch, and that such was now going to be made manifest. Death seemed at hand; and I felt in my soul that all was over. "Outer darkness" seemed near; and I was just going to call for my employer, who was in the next room, to come to me, (for I was afraid to remain alone, feeling satisfied in my mind that I was dying,) when these words came into my soul, "He was exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death." Jesus had been in my exact position, "sorrowful, even unto death." Peace came into my soul; the storm abated, and there was a calm. Bless his dear and precious name, this is having a little "fellowship with him in his sufferings."

On Saturday I was very unwell. Unbelief again began to stir; for I had told the Lord that I would rather he kept me at home by affliction than go through the ordinance without his sanction and blessing.

The next day, (Lord's Day, January 1st, 1843,) the Lord raised me up in strength and in peace, took me to his house, and blessed the word of his grace to my soul. His servant entered into the very

trials with which I had been exercised. In the afternoon I was blessedly strengthened in the ordinance which took place; but in the evening I was attacked with the most dreadful thoughts of infidelity, which made me tremble in my soul, and brought on such fear that I scarcely durst walk home from the chapel. Yet, bless the Lord, these feelings did not last long; for, whilst I was going home, he dropped a little dew into my soul. I could therefore "rejoice in him, and have no confidence in the flesh."

"How strange the scenes through which I go!
What joys I meet, and sorrows too!

Sometimes delighted in the Lord,
And fill'd with joy from Jesus' word.
"This holy pleasure from on high,
Makes all my grief and sorrow fly;
It lays me low at Jesus' feet,
Yet lifts me high to honours great.
"But ah, alas! how soon again
I sink in darkness, grief, and pain,
Wherein no comfort seems to flow,
And all seems dark and gloomy too!
"Yet, while I walk this thorny path,
A love to me my Saviour hath,
That bears me up, and ever will,

Till I shall stand on Zion's hill."

Through the ensuing week, the Lord manifested himself to my soul in such a gracious manner, that I could not help asking him how long it would be before I should cast my crown at his dear feet, and praise him for his love. O what soul-ravishing, soul-bedewing, soul-comforting visits I had! I could say, "My Beloved is mine, and I am his;" and his love to my soul was better than wine. "I sat

down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste."

But the scene is now altered. "O that I knew where I might find him, that I might come even to his seat. Behold, I go forward, but he is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive him; on the left hand, where he doth work, but I cannot behold him; he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him." "Tell me, O Thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon." "I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer." "By night, on my bed, I sought Him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, and go about the city, in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek Him whom my soul loveth. I sought him, but I found him not. The watchmen that go about the city found me; to whom I said, Saw ye Him whom my soul loveth? It was but a little that I passed from them, but I found Him whom my soul loveth." Nevertheless, I could not hold him; and I now find that his visits are less frequent and more transient than formerly. But blessed be his name, for ever visiting such a despicable wretch!

Thus, by the free grace of a covenant God, I was "plucked as a brand from the burning." The Lord took away my filthy garments, and clothed me with change of raiment. "I will greatly rejoice in the Lord: my soul shall be joyful in my God; for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with her jewels. (Isa. lxi. 10.)

I have given you a brief outline of "what the Lord hath done for my soul;" and suffice it to say that I am going on, sometimes sighing, crying, groaning, mourning, longing, panting, and thirsting for "Him whom my soul loveth;" sometimes I am happy upon the mount; and sometimes I am sorrowing in the valley. But it is a mercy to know that though I change, he changes not; and that though my frames and feelings vary hourly, with him there is no variableness or shadow of turning. And I have so learned Christ as to know that my position is equally as blessed, though not as congenial, in the valley as on the mount. In the valley I learn the value of a mountain visit. What is it that sends me fearing in the valley? Nothing but a feeling sense of sin; for, as sin is the source of all fear, there would be no fear without a sense of sin. Then I say that it is blessed to be a fearing inhabitant of the valley; and I believe that a child of God walks as safely, if not more safely, in this state than in any other. When under doubts and fears about his safety, he becomes more anxious and more earnest with the Lord to "decide the doubtful case;" he speaks about eternal realities with more care and seriousness; he opens his Bible with more reverence; he examines himself, and compares his experience with the experience of the saints of old; he is careful in all his movements, lest he should bring reproach upon the cross; he goes to the throne of grace with fear and trembling; and he does not rush into the presence of God as the unthinking horse into the battle. I was in a similar state to this a short time

ago. I felt afraid to look, move, or speak. "I cried unto the Lord in my distress," and he laid me low at his dear feet, and manifested himself in so solemn a manner that I rejoiced with trembling. He showed me his bleeding side; and I felt in my soul that my sins had made the dreadful wound. And what a mercy for me that they did pierce him! for if they had not pierced him, they must, of necessity, have pierced me. But, blessed be God,

"Payment he will not twice demand;
First at my bleeding Surety's hand,
And then again at mine."

Bless his dear name, he was wounded for my transgressions, he was bruised for my iniquities," bearing, as my Surety, the hell which was due to me; and, by the imputation of his perfect obedience, I shall at last rise triumphant over self, sin, the world, and hell, to be for ever with the Lord in the mansions of eternal bliss and blessedness! And now, reader, I have told thee what an awful state I was in when the Lord arrested me. Hast thou ever been arrested? And I have told thee how I looked for hell and damnation, and the Lord manifested heaven and salvation. How stand matters between God and thy soul? Hast thou been brought in guilty before the great Lawgiver? "O, no," say you, "I have not been such a great sinner as you have." But hast thou never sinned? Remember this: "He that offendeth in one point is guilty of all." Perhaps thou art busy working thyself a covering. Let me tell thee that whatever covering thou hast, if it be not of the Spirit, thou wilt find thyself awfully wanting, when the great day of the Lord shall come. But, on the contrary, if thou art a poor, groaning, sighing, longing, panting, thirsting, sensible sinner, thou shalt, in the Lord's "set time," know what it is to be adorned with the immaculate righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ; and, thus arrayed, thou shalt stand complete in the latter day. May the Lord bless thee and do thee good in his good pleasure, for his dear name's sake. Amen and amen.

HARD WORK MADE EASY.

Dear Friend, Yours came to hand, and I have just time to say that I intend, God willing, to be at P on the 30th of September, and if I can be conveyed from there to G on the 1st of October, I will very gladly come; but I must be at L- the day following. I dare not attempt to preach more than three times in the week days, as too much exertion brings the jaundice upon me; so I am obliged to preach less, or lay myself upon the shelf. No thanks to me; for when I enjoy my dear Lord in his work, it is sweet employment indeed; but when Christ is not enjoyed, it is very hard work. Indeed, I do not find any work but what is hard when Christ is not enjoyed. I know, in every blessed respect, that he is the resurrection and the life. There is not a cross nor a trial of any description that we may be exercised with but the blessed enjoyment of his presence will make us solemnly cheerful therein. You have had your trials, and no doubt they have been great, but the Lord is much greater; and O how great is his mercy! You have had some sweet feelings

of it, and that is better than thousands of worlds. Be thankful, my dear friend, that the Lord has been pleased to take your dear son to himself; and remember that many of God's people have had their children taken from them, for whom they had no room for hope. O may the Lord make you thankful; for you have much more cause to rejoice than to mourn; and what still adds to the blessing, he has given you a name better than of sons or daughters, even an everlasting name, which shall not be cut off.

My poor wife has been at the point of death, and there is little hope that she will ever recover, though, through mercy, she is much better than she was. I daily long and pant to live more in and upon Christ, for all things else are fleeting, yea, and dying too.

Excuse this little scribble, as I have both my hands, and head, and heart full of work. Yours in the Lord, with love to all friends. August 12, 1834.

W. G.

"YOUR HEART SHALL LIVE THAT SEEK GOD."

66

I am sorry to hear of my dearly-beloved friend's increasing weakness; but I am more than sure that the inward man will revive and be renewed, day by day. I am more than sure of this; for their "heart shall live that seek God." Their heart or conscience that is alarmed, awakened, and quickened, shall live; their convictions, their awakenings, their feelings, their sensations, their appetites, their cravings, longings, desires, and struggles shall never die away, as the alarms of Ahab and Judah did, who sought not to God, but to Satan. Their "heart shall live;" they shall never get into carnal ease so as to abide in it, nor into dead insensibility; nor shall they ever settle on their legal lees of self-righteousness; nor shall they rest in their own performances; nor shall the devil ever regain his palace and keep his goods in a false peace. Their heart shall live that seek God." If faith be weak, and hope low; if joys abate, and love cools; if meekness fails, and patience gives up the ghost; if fears abound, and heart and flesh fail: yet life shall abide; their conscience "shall live that seek God." The holy spouse who felt every power of the soul cold and indifferent, and every grace dormant and inactive, felt her heart, her conscience, alive and upon the watch: "I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my Beloved that knocketh." She had life, and felt his reproofs, and knew where the voice came from; and she calls him her Beloved, though cold, and in a deep sleep." It is life, my beloved, that gives us our longing appetites, and nothing else; and you know that the Lord has pronounced those blessed "that hunger and thirst after righteousness," and promises that "they shall be filled." It is life that gives us all our spiritual relish to favour, taste, and approve of the death and satisfaction of Christ, and that animates us to crave and feast upon that savoury meat which all the heirs of promise are so doatingly fond of: "My flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed." Their "heart shall live that seek God;" and so shall my dearly beloved; and I shall live with him. Ever yours,

W. H., S. S.

OBITUARY.

John Bury was born near Accrington, Lancashire, in the year 1796, where he lived, and indulged in all the vanities of this wicked world as far as his station in life would afford, following the dictates of a depraved heart, and giving full proof that he was dead in trespasses and sins. He committed iniquity with greediness, often, in his younger days, secretly laughing at, slighting, and scorning the advice and warnings of a dear father and mother, who used to say unto him, "Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth; and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes, but know thou that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment;" the remembrance of which, in after life, made him often groan and say, "The time past of our life may suffice us to have wrought the will of the gentiles."

In 1823 it pleased God, in the riches of his grace, to quicken his dead soul. He then felt himself to be a sinner, which was a strange feeling to him, and he attempted to smother it by running into his former delights. The justice and holiness of God in the law made him tremble and fear before him. He now purposed to reform and begin afresh. He sinned and repented until he became ashamed of his do-and-live covenant. He laboured and toiled to fulfil the law's demand, but his sins grew heavier upon him, and at length his hopes were dashed to the ground. Christ and salvation were by him seen only afar off, and he found no comfort, either in the word, or in the ministry, for it was a yea and nay ministry he sat under at that time. I have heard him tell of the sore distress of soul which he experienced one evening, when he resolved to lay his case before the Lord, and waiting till the family retired to rest, he went out of the house, scarcely knowing what he was doing. The evening was rough, and the storm of God's vengeance was rough and terrible in his conscience, and he thought that the clouds and storms were crying for vengeance upon his sinful head. On returning to the house, he fell upon his knees before God, and all he could say, amidst groans and tears, was, "Lord have mercy upon me, Lord have mercy upon me;" but the Lord seemed to take no notice of his prayer.

He continued to bear the iniquities of his youth, seeing his sins set in the light of God's countenance, with the curse of God feelingly drinking up his spirits, and no prospect for his poor soul but eternal death. But in 1824 it pleased God to send a man to Accrington that preached a free-grace salvation. He had for his text, "If our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost." Friend Bury heard him preach, and in the course of the sermon God the Holy Ghost brought together a hid gospel and a lost sinner. The blood of Christ was applied to his broken spirit, and his poor guilty conscience felt a washing in the fountain opened for sin and uncleanThe righteousness of the Son of God was brought near, and that faith, by which he before could see nothing but the justice of God going forth in the condemnation of his guilty soul, was now directed

ness.