And also, "Have I been a wilderness unto Israel? so that I have been obliged to drop my head with shame and say, "No, dear Lord; Thou never hast left me, and I believe Thou never wilt."

I hope what has been written the dear Lord will own, to the encouragement of some of His poor tried people, and help them to cast all their burdens upon Him, for I am sure He will sustain them, according to His promise.

A. BOORMAN.

THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST MORE PRECIOUS THAN GOLD.

MY DEAR FRIEND,-I received your letter on Saturday, and just drop you a line to say the parcel will be sent by train this morning to Uckfield station, to be left till called for, agreeable with your note.

I hope the Lord will preserve and keep you in your going out and coming in, and let grace reign in you, through righteousness, unto eternal life. I sensibly feel that cruel enemy of our souls' peace and comfort is ever on the alert to perplex, distress, entrap, and cast down the true followers of Jesus; and I feel it is no small mercy to be made sensible of our danger, and our Refuge too. As dear Hart sings

"Glad frames too often lift us up,

And then how proud we grow !
Till sad desertion makes us droop,
And down we sink as low."

I must rehearse the following sacred words of his, as the dear saint broke out with such holy joy and confidence

"But let not all this terrify;

Pursue the narrow path;

Look to the Lord with steadfast eye,

And fight with hell by faith."

Truly, my dear friend, I do feel it to be a narrow, narrow path-one that the vulture-eyed professor hath never, never seen, and which flesh and blood can never enter. This I have

proved and sensibly felt ever since that sacred time (1851) when the dear Lord so powerfully won my affections, and made everything that was dear to Him to me also dear; and it is this that makes such men and women "wondered at." Oh, what sacred, secret realities are couched beneath in the blessed Word of God! And to tell you, brother John, I don't know, at times, how to be thankful enough to the dear Shepherd for ever giving me to hear His voice and to enter in,

and to know what it is now to "go in and out and find pasture." And, although the world and the concubines that surround Solomon's bed think it strange, and that we are strange characters, I would not with the world exchange; and, while my faith can keep hold of the dear Lamb of God, I envy not the sinner's gold.

I hope the dear Lord will bless and keep you ever feeling after and seeking for His sweet smiles and testimony, for His testimonies are wonderful, and His smiles are beyond the price of rubies-indeed, no mention shall be made of coral or pearls, or all the world calls good or great, for it is above and beyond the price of all. So sings the poet

"Love to Jesus Christ and His

Fixes the heart above;

Love gives everlasting bliss,

But who can give us love?"

"To believe's the gift of God;

Well-grounded hope He sends from heaven;
Love's the purchase of His blood,

To all His children given."

And that sweet love of His, I believe, is what makes Satan gnash his teeth against those he would destroy, if their life were not in our dear and gracious Shepherd's keeping. But, when dear Little-Faith sees and believes the precious sayings of the dear Shepherd of Israel, that makes him

"smile at Satan's rage, And face a frowning world;

and can, with the dear Apostle, "count all things else but dung and dross for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus our Lord."

"Oh, to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be!

Let Thy grace, Lord, like a fetter,

Bind my wandering heart to Thee."

But I must close with the dear Apostle's words, which I do hope and pray may be more sweetly and powerfully felt and enjoyed by all who love the dear and matchless name of our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity and in truth: "Grace, mercy, and peace be with you, and with all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity and in truth." So prays, Yours affectionately, Croydon, June 29th, 1874. H. GLOVER.

THE hypocrite has not a living hope, but a lying hope, and a dying hope.-Leighton.

ONE OF MANY; OR, THE LAMENTATIONS OF A BEREAVED FATHER.

[These lines, which we insert by request, were written after reading a report of the inquest upon the young lady who committed suicide in the beginning of 1881, having fallen into despair through reading the writings of a now notorious atheist.]

WHAT shall the ventings of my wounded heart

I feel

Pour forth? Sad sight, sad feelings. Ah! my heaving
Breast. She's gone, and did I ever think we
Thus should part, with no sweet hope of rest?
Bewildered at the dreadful thought. Ah! wretched
Monster, my dear child drank deep thy deadly

Cup! How dearly bought! Those night-shade papers from
Thy hell-filled mind sank deep into her soul—

No God, no heaven, no hope-she reeled with
Torture. "'Tis no use to pray! I find a

Whirlwind in my heart." Thus dark, distressed, no
Prop, no peace, the tempter hurried on the
Blasting wheel of atheistic thought; the

Mind gave way; the engendered doubts, like darts
Unbearable, stung deep, and echoed only
Misery. Now

"These

Life's a burden-the living God first doubted,
Then denied. No place of shelter where her
Soul could stay. 66
"Take these, the cursed things!" and,
With her nerves unstrung and faltering voice,
She flings the soul-destroying books away. But
Oh, alas ! they'd left their fatal stings.
Hell-born papers have my ruin wrought. No faith,
No hope is left; they curse and sin have brought!
And her young life was taken by that hand
Which oft with smiling face the Bible held.
Oh, monster at thy door my darling daughter's
Blood must lie! Devilish, indeed, must that
Vile teaching be, which leads to glory in
Another's woe. I'd ask thee, atheist,

Why thus rob, thus murder? Man, I ask thee
Why, if filth and poison filled thy spacious
Breast, why vent for other's woe? Who for
Our children henbane seed would sow? Why not
Let arrows in their quiver rest? Hast thou
Commission hell itself to cram? How many
Pillows hast thou filled with thorns? How many
Homes, where peace and quiet reigned, hast thou
Upset? Oh, cruel aim! and brought the frown
Upon a father's brow, where loving parents

And loved children met. Thy falsehoods enter; ah!
How soon they grow, and do the fatal work—
Destroying peace, and moving in the much-loved
Son bold disobedience. The mother,

Weeping, sighs and leaves the room to vent her
Sorrows o'er that poisoned one.
Who can erase
The stain? Not frowns or grief. 'Tis God alone
But oh, the pain! A lion loose would
Not such mischief do. The rifle or the

Who can.

Sword could that destroy, but this destroyer
May destroy the boy, and thousands more! His
Words a net, so plausible to youth, and
Few escape that, venturing near his den,
Entangled first, then, too, reject the truth,
Regard not counsel, love, entreaty, grief.
But oh, this heaving! My loved child is gone!
Now from me torn for ever! Woe is me!
She drank the wretched atheist poison

Up. Alas! that ruthless, cruel tongue and pen
That made the way for her death-poison cup!
Blind infidel, what dreadful sting's in
Store-that solemn after-state you dare deny !
I wish you not in endless hell to weep,

Though plundered of that cheek I loved to kiss.
But God you thus defy, and more, His just

Vengeance brings; and thou, vile wretch, must sink
Into the deep-that deep abyss-sinking, yea
Ever sink-where woe is bottomless.

April 5th, 1881.

THE ROMISH REVIVAL.

A. B.

THE Romish press is jubilant over the increase of Popery in England, and truly not without cause. In 1840, they numbered some half a million, and had 522 churches and 624 priests, &c. In 1880, they had increased to 1,384,000 adherents, with 1,461 churches, and 2,282 ministers. This rate of progress is far beyond that of the general population, that having only increased sixty per cent., while the Romanists have increased 158 per cent.

In Australia, India, and the United States the spread of Romanism has been equally remarkable. Surely these figures ought to be enough to startle into activity every bit of zeal possessed by every true Protestant, while an earnest and united cry should be continually ascending heavenward, that the Lord would in mercy prevent the shackles of Rome being again riveted, if not upon us, yet upon our children. What is particularly striking is, that the great flow of people to Rome has not been from the Nonconformists of the land, but from the Established Church of England. Towards this, doubtless, such perverts as Manning and Newman have greatly assisted. It has been well and truly said that "the Anglican State Church has become the greatest nursery of Romanism in the world; " and recent appointments

of bishops and archbishop show that the Popish movement in the national Church is stronger than ever. Fifty years ago, many godly men, though Dissenters themselves, upheld the State Church, believing it to be a bulwark against Romanism; but, since the Tractarian or Ritualistic movement was set on foot by the late Dr. Pusey and his confederates, such ideas have received a crushing blow, and lead all true Protestants to feel that they must not trust in a State Church as a defence against Popery, but in the Word of God's truth, wielded by His mighty Spirit.

May the Lord speedily gird His sword upon His thigh, and ride forth through the earth, overturning these Jesuitical enemies of His truth, and convincing men and women that true religion does not consist in vestments, music, relics, fastings, masses, worshipping idols, and the intercession of saints, but in sitting as a little child, with a new heart and right spirit, at the feet of Jesus, who declared with His dying breath upon the 66 cross, It is finished!"

"It is finished!' said the Lord

In His dying minute;
Holy Ghost, repeat that word,
Full salvation's in it."

HOPEFUL.

THE SPIRIT OF THE CHURCH OF ROME. MR. H. G. GUINNESS, in his book on "The Approaching End of the Age," speaking of the past doings of Rome and the practice of this unchangeable Church towards heretics-i.e., all who are not "Roman Catholics"-says: "They have been shot, stabbed, stoned, drowned, beheaded, hanged, drawn, quartered, impaled, burnt, or buried alive, roasted on spits, baked in ovens, thrown into furnaces, cast from the tops of towers, sunk in mire and pits, starved with hunger and cold, hung on tenter-hooks, suspended by the hair of the head, by the hands or feet, blown up with gunpowder,. tied to the tails of horses, broken on the wheel, beaten on anvils with hammers, bored with hot irons, torn piecemeal by red-hot pincers, slashed with knives, hacked with axes, hewed with chisels, planed with planes, stuck from head to feet with pins, choked with water-rags, or mangled pieces of their own flesh crammed down their throats, shut up in caves or dungeons, tied to stakes, nailed to trees, tormented with scalding oil, burning pitch, lead, &c., &c. been flayed alive, had their flesh scalped and torn from their bodies, their heads twisted with cords until the blood or even their eyes have started out.

They have

"To dig out eyes, tear off nails, cut off ears, lips, tongues, arms, breasts, &c., has been but ordinary sport with Rome's converters.