dom of God, yet that all these things, by the gracious superintendence and providence of God, will work together for good to them who love God. I often regret how little I feel of the real power of religion. I preach about it; I read about it; but I do not seem able to enter fully into the glorious subject. I seem to be a dull learner in the Saviour's school. I almost fancy at times that I shall come under the description of those persons, who are ever learning, but never coming to the knowledge of Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, I am encouraged by the assurance that we shall know if we follow on to know the Lord. Religion is more than notion, more than profession, more than talk; it is, as the old writers call it, the life of God in the soul of man; it is God dwelling in us; it is a virtual, a real union by faith to Christ; it is a receiving of all our influence and nourishment from Him; it is a life of hourly dependence on Him; it is a growing conformity to Him; it is a deadness to the world; it is a daily breathing in a spiritual atmosphere; it is a daily dying to the things of this world; it is a constant, longing, anxious expectation to receive an abundant entrance into the kingdom; it is the evidence within us that when absent from the body we shall be present with the Lord; it is a panting after holiness; it is a life hid with

Christ in God. If this be religion where is it to be found? May these thoughts produce a spirit of self-examination and of deep humiliation in the sight of God. We all live far below the glory of our privileges. How often do the concerns and disappointments of worldly business draw the affections from God!

cause.

'We often think of the great work to which your beloved husband and yourself are devoted. May God abundantly bless your labours in his Discouragements no doubt you will meet with, but you must comfort your husband; you must, you must, encourage him; strengthen his hands, remove every thorn you can. He may have many persecutions; a doubt as to the success of his work; difficulty in preparing for his public duties; an unbelieving sense of his own insufficiency. Tell him that God is able to make all grace to abound (this is a noble word) towards him. Tell him to remember how the walls of Jericho fell; remind him how Gideon's army conquered; point him to the valley of dry bones; apply all these truths by the declaration "Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts." The greatest preacher can do nothing without Christ; the weakest can do all things with Him. You have discovered, I

doubt not, the happiness of walking with one who is bound to the same country with you. It is a blessed privilege to be able to take sweet counsel together; to be of one heart and one spirit; to have that identity of interest as to feel that "whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it.”

'And now a few words to my dear sister herself. Take care of yourself. Remember we all have an interest in you. Though you are separated from us, yet there are many here who do not forget you. I dislike that worldly proverb, "Out of sight, out of mind." Though absent in the body we are present with the Lord. Though you are far removed from us, yet you are none the further from heaven in Free Town, and often, I doubt not, our prayers meet at the mercy-seat.

'I repeat then, take care of yourself. You are your husband's property; his helpmate. Take all your anxieties to the throne of grace and leave them there, "casting all your care on Him who careth for you." Be careful (i. e., be anxious) of nothing, but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God. "Behold the fowls of the air (not of the barn-yard, where there is

plenty of food) for they sow not neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?" You are, I believe, my dear sister, interested in the blessings of redemption, and if the eternal God has given Himself for your salvation, what else can he withhold?'

It was not unnatural that one who, at a comparatively early age, could thus, as it were, make himself one in interest and feeling with those he loved, should be sought as a guide and adviser by those who were privileged with his friendship. His private papers and memoranda show, that there was scarcely a period of his life, from the time that first he made a public profession of faith in Christ Jesus, when he was not seeking the spiritual good of some with whom he was brought into contact. Extending over well nigh half a century, they bear a wondrous testimony to the unvarying consistency of a life which, like Enoch's, was a 'walking with God.' In Surrey Chapel Sunday-school he found his first Christian associates, his first fellow-travellers on the road that leadeth to Zion.' With several of them he seems for some years to have kept up a constant correspondence. The plan adopted was this, he wrote to a friend on some important subject, and at the close of his letter submitted a

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subject for the next letter. In his friend's reply to his question another subject was suggested, to which, in due time, Mr. W. Jones sent an answer. He confesses to have derived much benefit from such a plan. The mind,' he writes, "by such a scheme is fixed on a given subject—an interest is kept up, and a repetition of the same sentiments is avoided, We all want a succession of thoughts on those glorious subjects, which it is our privilege as Christians daily to contemplate. The more our minds are occupied on Divine things, the less room will there be for the operations of the enemy.' The subject suggested at the close of the letter from which the above extract is taken, as the topic for his friend's next communication, will show full well the bent of his own mind and his desire to walk worthy of the vocation wherewith he was called '-'What is the general experience of the young believer in Jesus Christ, and what are the temptations to which he is peculiarly exposed?'

To one of the friends above alluded to, for whom, till the close of life, he retained much Christian affection, a feeling truly reciprocated, he writes in the following terms on a subject of the deepest importance, viz. what constitutes real fitness for an approach to the Lord's table. Few, it is believed, could write on such a