is good, I find not.' I am a very poor, blind, erring creature, and I do, in my poor attempts to pray, beg of the dear Lord to shew me the path wherein he would have me walk, that I may 'walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time,' for it is short and precious; and I verily believe these are the breathings, more or less, of all the Lord's people, viz. that they may be made more manifest as living epistles, 'known and read of all men ;' for we want not to be deceived ourselves, nor to be instrumental in deceiving others. O to be made right, and kept right!' as dear Mr. Tiptaft used to say, is the desire, I believe, of every living soul. But I have to go much of my time in the dark, and to mourn over my barren and unfruitful state before God; and I have to feel in reality and in truth that I have no understanding, and am but as a beast before him. Yea, oftentimes much worse, and I have envied the brute creation many times, and wished I had been a beast rather than a man, to know little but the dark side of things. O how very little I know of the bright side; and what very little sweet union and communion with the Lord! I sometimes think that the Lord's people generally are favoured much more than I am; but it is an unspeakable mercy to know anything aright, in ever so small a measure. It is not quantity, but quality; and this portion of God's truth, I hope I may say, has been a comfort to me many times: 'He that gathered much had nothing over, and he that gathered little had no lack.' So the Lord will teach us that we are not to have a stock in hand, at least I am taught this lesson from day to day, and I do feel more and more my dependence on him, and that without him I can do nothing aright. Hold thou me up, and I shall be safe,' is the prayer of my soul often; and lead me in a conspicuous and 'plain path because of mine enemies,' and put not my hope to shame before an ungodly world. These things seem to be pressed out of me under a feeling sense of how very soon I should fall a prey to the enemy of souls, if not 'kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation, ready to be revealed in the last time.' O what a mercy to be kept from sin practically, whatever we may have to feel within! for, 'How shall we,' says Paul, that are dead to sin, live any longer therein?' and although we are dead to sin, that is not dead to us; and what a mercy to feel it, and to groan and sigh on account of it, being burdened with a body of death, which we carry about with us from day to day; and we never expect to be freed from it until we lie down, and time with us shall be no more; and then for those who die in the Lord there will be no more sin, sorrow, or trouble of any kind. When we come to die, in looking back upon the past it will be like a dream; and if favoured with the Lord's presence in death, we shall have to feel that whatever we may have passed through in our pilgrimage, our afflictions were light, and but for a moment. Now, my dear friend, I must draw to a close. I am glad to find by your letter that you intend paying us a visit in the spring; but as you say, 'It is not for us to say we will do this or that,' but if the Lord will' is as far as we can go. You will please give our kind remembrances to Mr. and Mrs. W.; and when it is well with you, remember your unworthy, but sincere Friend for the truth's sake, Brinkworth, Feb. 21, 1868. NATH. YOUNG. A LETTER ON PRAISE. MY DEAR SOULS,-I this day received your letter with joy, and give thanks for the same. I have been twice to Woking since my brother P. left me. The time before last, coming home, I was most dreadfully tempted indeed; but the blessed Jesus helped me up again by calling me to visit an old man, whom I had once seen before. When I came I found him in dreadful horror, and calling on God; and when I began to tell him how he felt himself, he found it would do for him, and being thick of hearing, he pulled off his hat and cap, and laid his aged ear to hear the word, and soon was melted down in tears. I left him smiling. Pray for him. The last Sunday I thought to be at Mitcham; I intended to go last Saturday to Camberwell, and Mitcham, and Ewell, and Epsom, and Horsham; but the frost broke, and I was called to Woking. I found heaven on earth on my journey. I went weeping, bearing precious seed; God grant I may return, and bring my sheaves with me, Amen. When I came I was gladly received. One of our sisters was very ill, and her husband is a pharisee and an enemy, and his daughter likewise opposed her mother, though she often came to hear me. Well, I went to see her, and the father was at home, and behaved very civil; but when I began to talk, he heard awhile, but soon withdrew, being a lover of darkness, and therefore a hater of light. I spent some time in prayer; and the daughter being convicted of being an enemy to her mother, cried out, and Mr. H. kept her company in weeping; I had much ado to pacify her, and my bowels yearned towards them; so I left them in the spirit of meekness: God grant that we may meet again, where we shall cry no more, Amen; and do you say Amen to it. I likewise visited a poor cripple, that had long desired to see this William, the parson, and he seemed all ear; the Lord affect his heart, Amen. The forenoon and afternoon service I was happy, but before the evening in trouble. The clerk's wife and daughter seemed convinced, and the clerk wanted to hear, but was afraid to come openly though desirous; so, like Nicodemus, he came in the night, and was shut in a room just against the wall where I stood to speak. I thought of him, and though in chains just before, God gave me great power and liberty indeed; God grant he may, like Nicodemus, come forth to the light, and beg of God the Father, his crucified Son, for his soul's salvation, Amen. In the morning we awaked about three o'clock, and the Lord was with me indeed, and we sung, and prayed, and parted in love; O bless the Lord for it! My master has got a new bargeman, and one morning master gave him and me a breakfast alone, at Christmas. I began to speak to him about God in the spirit of meekness; since that, God has given me his ear: pray God to conquer his heart. This night he blessed me, and tells me he begins to feel; God grant it may be Christ crucified in his heart, Amen, Lord Jesus. He tells my master he loves William; God grant he may love Christ. Master has given him leave to go to Woking with me; O that he may go to heaven with me! Amen. You tell me you are tempted by the devil; obey God's voice, give all you have to him, and then you are not your own, you are bought with a price, and God is your wall of salvation. Praise him for his wonderful creation. Praise him for his work of works in sinners' salvation. Praise him for his dear Son. Praise him for his precious blood. Praise him for his blessed hope. Praise him for your life and breath, Praise my Christ both heaven and earth. Praise him for his godly fear. Praise him for his exaltation. Praise him in all the hymns you sing, Praise him your prophet, priest, and king. Let every tongue, in every head, WALKING BY FAITH. W. H., S. S. MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,-I feel somehow such a strong desire working within me to try to write a few lines to you: I suppose it is because I feel a love and a sweet union to you as a fellow-member of the church of Christ; and my mind is often with you all, whom I dearly love for his sake, and for the truth's sake; so if the Lord will enable me, I will scribble you a few lines, because I know you have desired me so to do. Since last I saw you, I have been the subject of much exercise, bondage, and fear, and have often wondered where the scene would end, and what would become of me and my profession. But what a mercy that the Lord God of Israel makes these trials work for our soul's good, and for his own honour and glory; they are quite needful, and I have been brought to see they are needful. "Tis, if need be, he reproves us, Lest we settle on our lees.' Ah, my beloved friend, if there was no thorn in the nest, I should settle down with ease and quietness, and have no thoughts of God, heaven, hell, nor eternity; but what an unspeakable mercy to be made to see, and brought to feel before a heart-searching and rein-trying God that we are lost, ruined sinners in and of ourselves, for we are 'born in sin, and shapen in iniquity,' and then to be brought to the dear feet of the Lord Jesus Christ, sensibly to cry with the poor publican of old,' God be merciful to me, a sinner,' and for that cry to enter into the ears of the Lord God of Sabaoth to regard and answer it, by applying the precious balmy blood of Christ into the poor sinner's heart. O this is rich, free, and sovereign grace indeed, and makes the soul inwardly to dance for joy! I trust I know in some little measure the blessed reality of what I have written, and I hope I felt a little of Christ's precious love flow into my soul this morning. I had begged and cried again and again for the Lord to reveal himself once more to my poor tempest-tossed soul, and bless his |