but above all, he shewed us that Jesus was just such a Saviour that we needed; that in him the Father was well pleased for his righteousness' sake; and O were not our hearts ravished when the blessed Spirit took of the things of Jesus and revealed them to us! when he revealed the love, the holiness, the blood, the righteousness, the condescension, the willingness, and the ability which was in Christ towards our poor guilty souls; how that he was revealed as waiting to be gracious; how that he, the Physician, would heal us by balm from his wounds; that he would receive us graciously and love us freely; that there was more efficacy in his blood to cleanse than in sin to damn us; and though thousands had been healed and cleansed by him, yet his fulness of grace, mercy, and pardon remains unexhaustible. Do we not find the Spirit's testimony of Jesus to be true to the letter? do we not find to our joy and felicity that all these things were stored up in Jesus for us? and how we are indebted to this divine Teacher, that we are still kept holding on in our way, though dangers beset us on every hand; that because Christ lives we shall live also. I hope, my dear sister, that you richly enjoy the remembrance of these things in your heart, while passing through this vale of tears.

I trust you are well in body and soul. Through mercy we are going on very comfortably at Rehoboth; a goodly number of hearers assemble to hear the word from time to time; poor Holloway worships with us as before. I believe he is sorry he ever left us, and I hope he will soon cast in his lot with us, as before; but what person among us is not rash at times when the enemy comes in like a flood?

You must excuse my in-and-out letter and its unconnected matter, for I have been writing it, and attending to my lawful calling at the same time.

I shall be glad of a note from you, should you have time and inclination; and when it goes well at the throne of grace, remember your friend, who remains, in Christian love, your unworthy Brother, 13, Elizabeth Street, Hans Place, Chelsea, JOHN EMERY.

Oct. 12, 1854.

[The writer of the above letter died on August 29th, 1881, aged 65. A brief account of the Lord's dealings with his soul appeared in the August, September, and October numbers of the Gospel Standard for 1853, signed 'Nathaniel.']

HEAVENLY DESIRES.

MY DEAR OLD FRIEND,-I received your letter, and was truly glad to hear from you. I have often thought about you, and my poor mind has been carried back to bygone days, thirty years ago, when we used to meet together, and sometimes seemed to enjoy each other's company in talking over the things concerning our neverdying souls, and I feel now there is nothing else so concerns me as the salvation of my soul. O what is everything beside compared to it? O to be lost, what a dreadful thought! And sometimes, in looking over my past life, there seems no reasonable ground to hope that I shall land right at last; there is hardly a day passes but I am looking it all over, and O what a dreadful sight presents itself to view! mine is certainly a most out-of-the-way case; I have never known another like it, for I feel the vilest monster that ever God permitted to live on the earth. I cannot recollect ever having such a sight of my wretched self as at the present time, and the publican's prayer often indeed my poor is very soul's cry. I do want one more manifestation, if I have ever known anything aright. O the many fears that all is wrong from first to last! and I can tell you, my friend, it is a very solemn time with me, knowing that I must very soon leave this world, with all its concerns, and appear before the solemn Majesty of heaven; and I can tell you, my friend, that past experience does not satisfy me in the place I am in at this present time; nothing short of a blessed persuasion from the God of heaven that I am his will do for me now; that is more to me than all the world beside! O that the dear Lord would favour me! I know I don't deserve it; O no, far from it! I know what my deservings are, banishment from his holy presence for ever, but I do want to be saved; I do want to be found among the dear people of God. I can truly say I delight in no other people on the face of the earth. I know and feel that I am not worthy to be where they are, and yet nothing short of it will suffice, for they are the excellent of the earth according to my poor soul's estimation. O that I may be found in a precious Christ, not having on my own righteousness, which is but as stinking rags; everything that savours of self I can truly say is a stink to me, then what must it be to the holiness of a holy God! There is nothing can reach my wretched condition but the free, unmerited favour and mercy of God, through the precious doing and dying of a precious Christ. I deserve no more than devils out of a dear Redeemer; no, my dear friend, if He fails me, there is nothing

left but 'a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries.' O to be lost! what a heartrending thought! I feel more than ever the necessity of the precious blood of Christ, for there is no possibility of being saved without an interest therein. I have nothing else to hope in, for everything beside is sinking sand. O that I did but know for a certainty that the Lord Jesus Christ was mine, and I was his; but I am so in the dark that I dare not call him mine, and I often wonder that many can do so without any feeling sense of it,-for my part I dare not, but none long to do so more than I; but not in a speculative way; no, I would rather stay in the back-ground, where I am, than to presume. O my friend, it is indeed a mercy to be right, but an awful thing to be wrong in soul matters! I have thought I would sooner be anything than a human being,-it is so dreadful a thing to think about being lost! What will a mere profession avail us poor creatures in a dying hour? and yet I believe there are thousands in our land who are quite satisfied with an outside religion. Ah, my dear friend, a poor, undone sinner is more afraid of himself than of the devil; I really feel it to be so. God says,' The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked;' but who knows that? None, I firmly believe, but they who feel it. O what a dreadful sight is a naked, human heart!' I can truly say I have never beheld anything like it; a sight of it makes me appear as black as hell,' and viler than the devil. Perhaps my friend may say, That is very strong language;' but if the heart is, as God declares it is, 'deceitful above all things,' is there anything to match it? According to my own feelings there is not; how then is it possible that any poor wretch can be saved but by free and sovereign favour, through the precious blood and righteousness of a precious Redeemer? O, my dear friend, you and I have nothing else to hope in; and if that fails us, we are eternally lost and undone; there is not the least hope for us anywhere else. O then, that we may be found in him,' for 'Out of Christ, almighty power

Can do nothing but devour!'

and how sensible I am of it; but I must leave off this strain of things, or perhaps I shall weary my poor, old friend.

You tell me in your letter that you would like to know how we are as regards the poor body. As far as I am concerned, I am in a very poor plight indeed, although I am constrained to say that 'goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life;' and

O that I dared to rehearse the other part of the text, and say that 'I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever!' but I dare not, for fear I should presume, but that is what I long to feel,

'And tell to sinners round,

What a dear Saviour I have found!'

God says of his people, 'they are children that will not lie,' and I believe that is true, especially in soul matters, and therefore a poor creature does not take high ground unless the Lord sets him up on high; but I must conclude.

You said in your letter that you would like to know how Mr. Smart, and Towner, and poor Dartnall were: the two former are quite well, but poor Dartnall is in a very sad way, and has been for a long time very dark in his poor mind, and much cast down, and often wonders where the scene will end;' but I believe he will get safe at last.

I must now leave off. I suppose you and I will never meet again in this world, although I should like to see you once more;-write, if you feel inclined. Kind love to yourself and wife, and Mrs. Pearson. Yours affectionately,

Stone Street, Cranbrook, Nov. 10, 1881.

G. EDWARDS.

THE LATE MR. GEORGE EDWARDS.

MY DEAR FRIEND IN THE TRUTH,—In reading the Banner for this month I see in the obituary the death of Mr. George Edwards, of Cranbrook, who died on the 7th of December, 1881. There is but little said of him, but what is said of him I know to be true; he was to me a very choice companion, having known him for many years, and we have had much sweet intercourse together on the best things, and travelled together many miles to hear the truth from the mouth of our late esteemed friend, Mr. Russell, of Rotherfield, and at times elsewhere; and I believe the Lord united us together in heart and affection, and that in the bonds of the everlasting love of the Lord Jesus Christ, and we have never been parted, and it has continued now over thirty years. He was, like myself, a poor, doubting, halting creature, and never rose very high in his own estimation; and was often afraid to take what belonged to him, through the power of unbelief; but with it all he still abode by the stuff,' and he was a strong advocate for the truth, and for all such as he believed were sent to preach it; and though he died so suddenly, yet I do

believe his end was in peace, and may we not say, 'Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace?' I do believe our departed friend was an upright one, for he never would take of the things of God only as they were revealed to him by the Holy Ghost; thus he contended for right things, both for himself and others. I enclose a letter he wrote to me a month before his death, in answer to one I wrote to him, and should you feel inclined to give it a place in the Banner it would be agreeable to my feelings and desires, and to some other of our friends; and so, my dear friend, I now leave it with you and the Lord, and the Lord direct you in your movements in his holy name; and may the blessing of God rest upon you, so prays your well-wisher,

Croydon, Feb. 14, 1882.

H. KEMP.

A SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF LUTHER,
FROM THE PEN OF J. H. MERLE D'AUBIGNÉ, D. D.

(Continued from p. 82.)

'On arriving at Wittenberg, Luther repaired to the monastery of the Augustinians, where he had a cell allotted to him; for although a professor, he ceased not to be a monk. He was called to teach physics and logic, an arrangement in which regard was doubtless had to the philosophical studies he had pursued at Erfurt, and the degree he had obtained of master of arts. Thus did he find himself, while hungering and thirsting for the word of God, compelled to attend almost exclusively to the study of Aristotle's scholastic philosophy. He needed the bread of life which God gives to the world, yet was obliged to occupy himself with human subtilties. What a constraint this, and how must it have afflicted him! “I am well, by the grace of God," writes he to John Braun, "were it not that I have to devote my whole energies to the study of philosophy. I have greatly desired, ever since my coming to Wittenberg, to exchange this branch for that of theology, but," adds he, that it might not be supposed that he meant the theology of that time, "the theology I mean is that which looks for the kernel of the nut, the albumen of the wheat, and the marrow of the bones. Be it as it may, God is good," he goes on to say with the confidence which was his life's very soul, "man is almost always deceived in the judgments he pronounces; but he is our God. He will kindly conduct us evermore." The labours in which Luther had then to