I sat down upon the frame of this old chair, and, looking round the room, said to myself, "Well, never was there anything more resembling the state of my mind than this room-cold, confused, barren, and empty.

Having spent a few seconds upon these (perhaps unprofitable) reflections, I fell upon my knees and begged forgiveness of God for having obtruded myself into a position unto which I considered God had not called me, and for which I felt I was not qualified. And, I well remember, the only thing which afforded some relief to my mind was, that I had not sought it myself, but had been thrust into it by my friends. Thus I pleaded with the Lord, in the sincerity of my heart, adding—“ And now, O Lord, it is expected that I shall preach this afternoon, and the people are gathering together to hear me: help me, my gracious God, this once, for the honour of thy cause; for, should my mouth be shut before the people, the enemies of the cross will revile, and the hearts of thy people be made sad. I care not, O Lord, thou knowest what is said against me, but thy cause and thy honour are dear to my heart; and, my God, if thou wilt help me this once, I pledge myself to thee. I will never thrust myself into such a position again; and, if thou wilt condescend to pardon my rashness this day, and help me this afternoon, I will never ask thee to help me to preach again."

Such was the substance of my prayer, (very foolish, I admit, and even bordering upon wickedness); but the writer can assure you he felt just as he prayed, and never prayed more sincerely or earnestly in his life, as he did not expect to attempt preaching again after that day. How true is that verse, "It is not of man that walketh to direct his steps." The time for commencing the afternoon service arrived. He went to the cottage; it was full of people; he felt some liberty in prayer, and then took for his text, Isaiah iii.

10, 11: "Say ye to the righteous, it shall be well with him; for he shall eat the fruit of his doings. Woe unto the wicked; it shall be ill with him, for the reward of his hands shall be

given him." This service was undertaken in the strength of the Lord; that in the morning in his own strength, and relying chiefly upon his own preparation. That (as far as his own feelings went) was a failure: in the afternoon he was assisted, even to his own astonishment. Indeed, he has never since in his life preached with more enlargement than at that time. That day was December 24th, 1815, and from that day he dates the commencement of his public ministry.

At the close of the afternoon service, the managers requested me to come again that day fortnight. I could not give them an answer then, but felt impelled in the course of the next week to comply with their wishes. Shortly after this their old supplies grew tired of coming, and I was prevailed upon by the good people to enter into an engagement to supply them every other Lord's-day, in connection with a good brother who was a fellow-member with me, and had been called into the ministry about two years before me. Situated as the poor people were, I felt it to be my duty to enter into this arrangement, notwithstanding I had foolishly pledged myself to preach no more if the Lord would help me that day. I clearly saw that was my infirmity, begged for forgiveness for my rashness, and entreated the Holy Spirit to help me onward, and bless those efforts for good.

Here I ought to say I learned from that day's experience several most important lessons, especially the following:—that I ought never to lean upon my own preparations and memory, but to use all the means in my power to prepare for the pulpit, and then throw myself entirely upon the promise of God for help, as much as if I had made no preparation at all; which course I have, through grace, endeavoured to pursue ever since, and have not

"Toil'd to stow my lumber in my brain, Then toil'd and tugged to drag it out again." This interesting, though humble station, the writer was able to supply every alternate Sabbath for eighteen months, during which time God gave us many interesting seals to our ministry. Of these, eight or ten united with the Church of which the writer was a member, and testified before the people what the Lord had done for them through his instrumentality. Two of these were about his own age (husband and wife), who had in childhood been playfellows with him, though he believes the wife looked upon the writer as a notch or two beneath her. They lived about three miles from the preaching station. The husband told his wife he had heard that Philip Dickerson had begun to preach at Newborne. "He preach,"

she said: "what can he know about preaching? You might as well take up preaching: I am sure you know quite as much as he.” Well," said the husband, "there are many people going to hear him, and they are astonished." "Bigger fools they," said she, "to run after such rubbish. I hope you don't intend to go: you will not, if I can prevent it." Yes," he said, "I shall go; I should like to hear him." "Then," said the wife, "there's an end to our happiness: they'll get round you, and try to persuade you that you are so bad: you must repent, or else you cannot be saved; and your weak mind will believe it, and there will be nothing but whining, and sighing, and praying, which I can never bear." However, notwithstanding all the wife could urge, the man came, and we had good reason to believe the Lord sent the arrow of conviction to the poor man's heart by means of the first sermon he heard. He did feel soul trouble, and could not prevent his wife hearing him sigh, and perceiving he was in soul distress. She scolded, rallied, and bantered him, declaring if he went on like that she would not live with him; that they were quite good enough, and if not, there was plenty of time to repent by-and-bye, and was re

solved he should not go to hear that Philip again alone. She would go with him, and if any of them said a word to her, she would soon shut them up.' She came with her husband. The writer well remembers seeing her take her seat, but knew nothing of the state of her mind. He preached from Mark xvi. 15, 16: "Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature, &c., &c. And we have good reason to believe the wife who came to protect her husband from the shafts of divine truth, was that evening, by the mighty power of the Holy Ghost, struck with conviction, which issued in conversion to God. Seldom have we seen a haughty spirit more humbled, and a carnal mind more captivated, than in the case of that female; and being of an ardent temperament, her love to the Lord's people soon manifested itself in a lovely manner. We had, after a few months, the delightful pleasure of hearing her husband, and two or three more, "tell how he wounded, and then how he healed," and we sung, with real joy in our hearts:

"Blest be the tie that binds

Our souls in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above."

To which we added :

"The hill of Zion yields

A thousand sacred sweets;
Before we reach the heavenly fields,
Or walk the golden streets."

Oh, hallowed glorious day, when all the redeemed of the Lord shall meet around the throne of glory,

"Cast their trophies at His feet,

And crown Him Lord of all."

By means of these services a congregation of nearly two hundred people was gathered, and the cottage became too strait; but the people, being poor, had not the means to build. What was then to be done? Must the Lord's work stand still for want of a few pounds? No: he made it manifest "the gold and silver are his." There was a man in that village who was called a giant; and such he was from his birth. When seven or

eight years of age he was stouter in his limbs and body than most ordinary men; and so much curiosity did he excite, that he was carried about the country for a show, and by those means he accumulated a decent sum of money, by which he was able to live comfortably. This, to the poor man, was a great blessing, as his unwieldly size prevented him from doing much; besides, his health was always feeble. Who would have thought that God intended, by this man, to raise a house for his worship? Well might the poet exclaim :

"God moves in mysterious way,

His wonders to perform."

About the time our cottage was opened for preaching, this man was brought to seek the Lord, and constantly worshipped with us: indeed he principally led our singing. But his religious career was soon run: he was called to his rest. But in view

of his end he made his will, and bequeathed fifty pounds towards the erection of a chapel. This was the first practical effort for that object, and was the means of calling forth the action of others. A gentleman offered a piece of ground for a site, other donations followed, and hence sprung up the chapel on Waldringfield Heath, where the Gospel has been preached for above half a century. A church consisting of from sixty to seventy members, have worshipped; and, of this Church, the pious mother and eldest sister of the writer belonged before they were called away to join that other part of the redeemed family who have crossed the flood."

In this chapel an excellent Sunday School has for many years been held, which our gracious God has at various times deigned to bless by the outpouring of his Spirit. To the anniversaries of this school the writer has often gone since his residence in London. The last visit he paid to Waldringfield was on the Whit-Tuesday of 1867. Then our hearts were cheered by hearing that several of the Sunday scholars had that year been called by grace, and added to the church.

But, fearing I shall trespass upon your space, I conclude with Christian love to all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity.

PHILIP DICKERSON.

MY DEAR OLD PEW.

OUR chapel has been altered internally and externally, improved, beautified, reseated. The old-fashioned pews have been removed and seats of a more modern form of construction put in their place. Everybody says the alterations are really improvements; still as regards myself there is such a long string of hallowed remembrances connected with that pew where I sat so many years, that at times a sigh of regret arises at the thought of its removal. Our chapel was opened in the year 1827, my pew recollections go back as far as 1835, and I shall give them as follows:In that year a poor motherless girl was present on a baptizing occasion, a lady who occupied a seat in a small pew near the baptistry, permitted her to sit by her side for the purpose of a better view of the administration of the solemn ordinance. A memorable night it was for the young spectator, for when the candidates appeared, almighty power arrested her heart, impressing her thus: "These are washed in the blood of God's dear Son and will be gathered into His kingdom, while your guilty soul is ruined and shelterless." Tears more than words manifested the feeling induced by these solemn thoughts. In a few days after this a voyage by sea had to be undertaken by this awakened mourner, and after a few hours travelling a heavy storm arose and raged until the vessel was seriously damaged. None but those who in like manner have been ready to perish, can conceive of the solemnities of that hour, but mercifully all the passengers were saved. And when the good Mrs. W., the lady above referred to, heard of the escape of her young friend from the wreck, she exclaimed, "Ah, she could not be drowned, for she is to

live and taste of the mercy of the Lord," and her words were graciously verified. Her memory is dear, for we loved her and the hallowed spot in which she sat to worship her God and listen to the gospel of His grace during her last days on earth.

After her removal to glory another dear disciple occupied the seat who was a true daughter of Jerusalem; righteousness was seen in her walk and peacefulness characterized her spirit. She died also in a good old age. A little later on we were joined in our seat by a Christian brother with whom we had long taken sweet counsel in the things of God. He was a real Mr. Fearing, the reality of whose religion no one doubted but himself. Still pursuing, hoping, waiting, much afflicted, yet often tasting that the Lord was gracious, even to him. At the last interview we had with him before he slept in Jesus, with upraised hands he spoke sweetly of the great mercy of the Lord.

For many years another poor man waited before God in that pew, and there he learned the plan of salvation and heard much of the sweet name of the Lord. And when by great affliction he was brought near to death, his heart melted like wax under the influ

ence of sovereign mercy. He prayed earnestly, and we believe that the gracious Father of every contrite spirit heard his groaning and answered his crying; for with his broken, dying voice, he sung aloud, "Crown Him Lord of all; wonders of grace to God belong!"

The next one who sat with us was one who in the days of his youth had been blessed under the sound of the gospel at Surrey Chapel. As he advanced in life he learned to value the doctrines of distinguishing grace, and was a hearer and admirer of the class of preachers who give prominence in their ministrations to those doctrines, for over 60 years. He was favoured to hear Dr. Hawker on his visits to London, and for some years sat under the rich ministry of Samuel Eyles Pierce, in Shoe-lane, where he was baptized. Many years he attended

the week-night lecture of Mr. Irons, at Jewin Crescent, and often spoke of the precious seasons he enjoyed under the word as dispensed by those eminent men of God. For a while he was a a member with the late John Andrew Jones, but removing westward he cast in his lot with us under the ministry of our late beloved pastor, which he greatly valued, about 30 years ago. The valuable instruction he had received had greatly ennobled his mind, the untold glories of his precious Christ were the delight of his sanctified soul and the theme of his conversation. As a saint he was clothed with humility, his death was a blessed one, and with his dying breath he implored the divine blessing upon us. The place he had occupied in our pew was afterwards frequently occupied by one who had been his companion and friend, more or less, almost from their

starting in life. This friend highly appreciated our pastor's ministry and much enjoyed occasional visits to our Zion; his regular place of worship was at the east end of the town and his residence in the city. About two days before his death we paid him a visit, when he said, with many tears, "My path here has been through much tribulation, but I am satisfied it has been the right way to the kingdom of God according to his unerring word. I enjoy a solid peace, Jesus has put my sins away." He was baptized by good old Mr. Lucombe, of the Cityroad, and had followed the Lord about 43 years, not having been called by grace until about the middle of life. And then once more, after sad bereavements, the gap was filled up among us by the presence of one who was born in a foreign land, but had long been made by divine grace, a fellow-citizen with the saints and of the household of God. Seven short years passed away and the dearlyloved foster father, the affectionate indulgent husband, the kindly-spirited neighbour, and sincere Christian, fell asleep. Of the under-shepherd who fed them we may say :

"His lips are closed in silence, hence no more, The Gospel sound to bless the contrite poor."

But the mantle of Elijah has fallen on a much-loved Elisha; the well-filled sanctuary is greatly beautified, but

still I do sometimes drop a tear at remembrances connected with my dear old pew. C. E. D.

MR. M. MURPHY.

MR. MURPHY, the highly- esteemed and valued secretary of the Aged Pilgrims' Friend Society, was doubtless well known to many of the readers of the Gospel Herald. By his zeal and ability in the discharge of his duties, the society, during his tenure of office, made great progress; the expenditure in pensions in 1863, when his secretaryship commenced, being £2,711, and now it has advanced to an annual sum of more than £5,800. His high Christian character and unfailing geniality had also endeared him to a large circle of friends.

He was born in the year 1812, in the neighbourhood of Holborn, and dated his earliest religious impressions from Sabbath-school instruction, a department of Christian work of which he was ever afterwards a warm supporter.

His "spiritual birth-place ”—to use his own words, was Fetter-lane Chapel, then under the pastoral care of Mr. George Burder, the well-known author of the "Village Sermons." He was succeeded in the pastorate by Mr. Caleb Morris, a minister of great intellectual power, but of very weak health. Mr. Murphy derived great spiritual blessing from the ministrations of Mr. Morris, and during this time began to speak in public at one or two village mission stations. One of his earliest friends, and the one who first led him to speak, was an Independent minister, named Whitehead, who afterwards became a Strict Baptist, and settled at Hertford. Our friend's labours at this time were very heavy, for he had to apply himself steadily to business, and the hours were very long. His love to his Master, however, having been kindled

from above, could not be "choked by the cares of this world," and he was actively employed in Christian service during the whole of his spare time. He preached much in workhouses, being a member of a society which had been formed for that special purpose; and, in addition, had become the superintendent of the Sundayschool in which he was once a scholar.

He was now a partner in the business with which he had been so long connected (that of a wholesale confectioner on Holborn-hill), and he removed to Finchley, becoming an active member of the Independent church there. The cottage services which he instituted were made a great spiritual blessing; and our dear friend often had the gratification in after years of hearing that" such an one had been born there." These labours, we must remember, were carried on by one who, during the greater part of each week, was occupied in travelling long distances from his home; but his greatest joy was in his Master's service. In 1851 he joined the committee of the Aged Pilgrims' Friend Society, our friend, Mr. Bland, cordially re-. commending him for the position. Circumstances necessitated his withdrawal from his business, and in 1862, on the death of Mr. Box, he was appointed secretary of the society. then removed to Canonbury, and joined the Independent Church worshipping at Harecourt Chapel. He was soon after chosen a deacon and evangelist, one of the mission stations being committed to his charge. This work was very dear to him, and when afflictions came upon him it was his most costly sacrifice to his heavenly Father's will. He was greatly beloved by the poor people amongst whom he laboured, and was often found by the