I retired to my room; and after some seeking and thinking, my eyes fell on that singular scripture (Matt. xiii. 58), " And he did not many mighty works there because of their unbelief." I saw faith in Jesus was a blessed grace, opening the way for Him to come and do His mighty works. From the connection of those words, I saw the character of the Saviour's ministry, the nature of the Gospel kingdom, and the reality of conversion to God by grace implanted; with a mind unusually solemnized, I proclaimed four vital truths; 1, Faith in the Gift of God; 2, True Faith may be known; 3, The Faith of God's elect cannot be destroyed; 4, Faith in Jesus precedes His mighty works. Now, to myself, I said, Not all that Colenso has written; not all that Satan has done; not all the sorrows which over my soul have rolled, has ever shaken my faith in JESUS. know He is able, He is mighty, He will do many wondrous things, and men shall praise Him. I mentioned the widow's case to a friend. It was resolved privately to collect enough to clear off her back arrears. Thank the Lord it is nearly done: I hope yet to make the widow's heart to sing for joy. Oh, ye easy-going, wealthy Christians! Do pray remember, a cup of cold water given in the Saviour's name shall not be forgotten. Dr. Macduff says:-"It is the Christian to whom God our Maker giveth songs in the night." Like the nightingale, the Christian can warble His discant of thankfulness in the darkest night of sorrow. Amid pining herds and famished flocks, and fields blackened with death and pestilence, the Christian can sometimes rejoice in the Lord, and glory in the God of his salvation. For full thirty years I have been more or less associated with God's poor people. I have some of them now-jewels in mean attire; they are the living illustrations of that sixtysixth Psalm. Their language is this: "We went through the flood on foot. THERE did we REJOICE IN HIM." As in solitude we often walk, in sweetest resignation may we sing, "I go lonely, I go lonely, and I feel that earth is only The vestibule of palaces whose courts we never win: Yet I see my palace shining, where my love sits amaranths twining, YOUNG PHILIP, THE SOLDIER; AND THE THREE MINISTERS. NOMETIMES in the midst of a long and tedious biography, you may find a very striking sentence: a few words full of spiritual glory, and expressive of the immensely rich and beautiful grace of God. They are mental gems. They are indeed worth more than their weight in gold. In July I was invited to a meeting in our chapel at Old Ford, when the employés of Messrs. Mace had invited their worthy masters to a friendly gathering. Every morning in that factory, a meeting is holden for prayer. At this friendly gathering, two or three brethren (who are workmen in the firm) spoke of the good resulting from the morning cries to God for help and salvation: and some missionaries and ministers delivered short and suitable addresses. Mr. William Mace presided. Mr. Charles Mace implored Heaven's blessing on them. My heart would rejoice, indeed, if all masters could solemnly manifest the same interest in the welfare of their men. Before I went to that meeting, I read in the Baptist Magazine, the narrative of the son who was dead, but is alive again. In it the writer gives the following delightful sentence: "Eternal Love had written Philip's name in the Lamb's Book of Life:-he was not to die in his sins.” "In his sins;" he was a wicked youth; he was neither chaste, sober, nor honest; he was cast into prison ere he was much over twelve-then he came out; being a tall, strong fellow, the recruiting sergeant caught him-enlisted, drilled, sent him to India; nearly three years no tidings came of him. His widowed mother weepingly said, he is gone; he is either killed in action, or the Indian fever has carried him off: nay, "he was not to die in his sins." Why? Thousands do. Ah! lamentable fact. They do; and how little we think of it, or care for them. But, "Eternal Love had written his name in the Lamb's Book of Life." Who could say that? How could that be known? Hear me. In the regiment where Philip was, there was a sergeant; his name was Waters. I had an uncle in the army; his name was James Waters. Of Sergeant Waters it is said, he sailed in a ship with more than a thousand souls-all dissipated and bad; but one grain of salt, one godly man, one believing, one praying soul! What a situation to be in! What scenes he must have witnessed! What sorrows and snares must have surrounded him every moment. It is said "He had been converted while in the army; and yearned with a divine compassion over the souls of his companions in arms." He read the Scriptures! He prayed to God; and during the voyage, three soldiers believed, and joined him. In India, this little band increased: among the number, poor Philip's heart was turned to God; and many loving, praying, and grace-unfolding letters, did Philip write his widowed mother. Not long since I sat in a minister's parlour. I would never forget the holy emotions I had for a moment or two, when he shewed me two photographs of his two elder brethren-both had been missionaries: both were now pastors of large churches in England. Three sons-all devoted to God in the dispensation of His word. My friend said to me, "Under God, I attribute the whole of our position as Christians and ministers to our mother who led us to the house of God, and to the throne of grace. Ah! mothers-loving, tender-hearted mothers-with God's blessing, who can tell what you may do by thus, in early life, leading your darling children to the heavenappointed means of grace! When I see mothers neglect, and cruelly beat their children; and so become a terror and a curse to them, I feel an agony of soul none can tell. To all ministers and missionaries I would say-talk kindly and faithfully to the mothers. Poor things! Many of them are ruined by their worthless husbands. Let us aim to recover them. In this little enterprise, help THE VILLAGE PREACHER. GOOD OLD EIGHTY-FIVE! T the end of the ninety-first Psalm, there is a cluster of A beautiful promises, one of which reads in this way." With long life will I satisfy him, and shew him my salvation." This precious promise was realized wonderfully in the experience of "Pastor GoSSNER," who, at Berlin, on March 30, 1858, went to rest in heaven, after having spent eighty-five years of toil, and earnest labour for Jesus and His people in this earthly valley. The Life of Gossner, a solid little octavo, is published by Morgan and Chase, and details marvellous things as making up the life of a man in whom grace appeared to reign and shine to an unusual degree. I have been trying to raise a little fund to put some aged saints on the Pilgrims' Friend Society; and in order to carry out this good design, I announced some lectures, one of which was on Gossner. My friend, Mr. Messer, occupied the chair that evening, and gave an opening address, and he so completely carried the people away with him, that when I was called upon for my Lecture on Gossner, I felt myself so entirely eclipsed, that I could neither spread my sails, nor open my subject. I had matter enough for two hours, but people cannot profitably hear too much at a time, and I felt we had all heard enough for once, and we were thoroughly entertained too; so I-to get out of my difficulty as well as I could-said, I would give some account of Gossner in CHEERING WORDS. In bringing the Life of Gossner before the people that evening, I said I had a four-fold design, and a subject with seven most beautiful branches. I. A four-fold design: (1,) to remove prejudices; (2) to encourage myself; (3,) to try and stimulate the people to action ; (4,) to get help for aged pilgrims. II. A subject with seven excellent branches. To shew Gossner was 1. A Christian in the Romish Church. 2. A Christian in heart, loving Christ most vehemently. 3. A Christian in close communion with God. 4. A Christian in self-denying devotion. 5. A Christian in long and deep afflictions and persecutions. 6. A Christian in usefulness beyond all human calculation. 7. A Christian for ever. If I can, I will work these features out in a few numbers: each piece shall be as complete in itself as I can make it; and I hope many good people will thereby perceive that though "cast down, I am not destroyed." I cannot refrain from giving— —even now-a few of Dr. Büchsel's words over Gossner's grave. He said— We stand around this coffin with feelings of mingled pain and thankfulness. God has blessed us richly by means of the man whose remains we are now committing to the earth, and though he left no child to inherit his name, and to weep at his tomb, yet in this large town, and around his grave, there are many who bewail his loss, and mourn for him as their spiritual father. And we pastors surrounding his tomb can say of him what he never said of himself, 'he did labour more abundantly than us all,' and received a larger share of blessing. And why was he made the honoured instrument of so much good? I know of but one answer to this enquiry: GoSSNER WAS A MAN OF PRAYER. I have seldom known any one who could pray as old Gossner could. By prayer he raised the walls of the Hospital: by prayer he obtained the sisters whose help was needed for the Institution; by prayer he moved the hearts of the rich in many countries to open their hands widely for his mission work; by prayer he strengthened and supported the missionaries in distant countries, amidst their many dangers and temptations; his prayers accompanied and watered that work throughout all the world. His spiritual children are to be found not only around his grave, but they are scattered throughout this country, and over the most distant parts of the globe; and I know that though his body now |