cannot scan, but God manifest in the flesh meets my case, and brings me life, although a profound mystery and incomprehensible. I have been reading your address in this month's Gospel Standard, and am rejoiced to witness such an exhibition of life, and moving of the bowels after reality, and reaching forth unto the things which are before, and I wish to encourage you to go on. May the unction of the Spirit distil upon your hearts, and the dew lie all night upon your branches, until the soul shall become like a watered garden. I do not profess to be a physician of much value, but am walking the hospital, and feeling for life, and examining the pulse of one and another, to ascertain their health, sickness, or complaint, and my own standing also; and God is my witness, I find none quite so bad as myself, and am often obliged to force by or turn away my thoughts from a corrupt and depraved nature. Being called with a holy calling (I trust I may say) has made an extensive breach in my friendship with sin, so that I find little or no cessation from arms. Neither can I find anything holy enough for me in this mortal state, and sure I am that hence arises the chief of my trials, being called with a holy calling in the midst of sin, and to eternal life in the midst of death, and to a high calling in a low place, and to a heavenly calling from the jaws of hell. Thus, the soul being called away from low things to high things, and being chained down while here to low things, a body of sin, an offensive carcass, how can the high-born creature be happy? The language of the soul is, "O that I had wings like a dove, then would I flee away and be at rest!" "My soul thirsteth for God in a dry and thirsty land where no water is." This calling is such a high calling, that any state or place where God is not, would not be high enough to satisfy it. It would be still looking up; any holiness but the holiness of God it cannot feed upon; any righteousness but the righteousness of God it deems no ornament, and no other clothing will it submit to be dressed in; no other remission but that which is effected by blood will it listen to; no blood but the blood of the everlasting covenant can it drink of; and no bread but the bread which comes down from heaven will administer to its wants. The heaven-born must be fed from heaven. If a man can feed and be satisfied with the earth, he is still earthy. If low things will do for him, he is not yet called with that high and holy calling of God. The child may stumble, and the strong man may be overcome, in consequence of sin within and temptation without, although he may resist nearly unto death, but he cannot live there, he is of too high an extraction; and sin, to one of a holy nation, is his plague, it is his hell.

I have been hammered out the whole length of the doctrines of grace in my soul's experience, and can feel that if it is of works (in the least sense) it is no more of grace, and that it must be man's first move or God's first move, that it must be man's first love or God's first love; but let the living soul testify to whom the honour belongs, to whom the praise is due, (for the testimony which proceeds from life is the only evidence worth our notice,) and let the Holy Ghost bear witness to the truth: "But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ." "We love him, because he first loved Nevertheless, every sound, either from the pulpit or the press, if it proceeds not from life, is only a sound at best of the many kinds of voices in the earth. The poor, anxious, sin-bitten man and woman will say, when they hear a fine account of great things, and the doctrines only of the kingdom that fadeth not away, "The provision is

us."

good, but have I a right to it? The inheritance is beautiful and undefiled, but am I an heir of it? There is a royal household, I know, but are mine the features of the family? There is an election, but am I elected?" Thus truth cometh to the light, and life is personal. General things will not do for a particular man, and theory only makes him lean from day to day.

The living man feels a good deal at times, and sees many things which the blind see not, and sometimes all his senses appear to him stopped up, but even then his groans are better than Esau's tears. Sometimes he concludes within himself, Surely I shall reach the shore now! but not knowing what a day may bring forth, the wind arises, and a spark of temptation is blown into a blaze in a moment; or the waves of trouble upset his bark, and plunge him a thousand fathoms into the deep; and his case is so much altered in a few moments, that he says, The Lord has forsaken me, or my spot is not the spot of God's children; and his language is, "Attend, O Lord, unto my cry, for I am brought very low ;" and he appears just as near the good land as he did forty years ago. He now finds he must be saved just like a thief or a Magdalene; he has now as good an errand to Jesus Christ as ever he had; and "Lord, save or I perish," is as fresh as ever it was. Poor man! he was thinking that he had got further than that, and that he had made some little advance in heavenly things; but now he feels that he must be saved like a thief, and have no better claim than a harlot. But the great salvation must be made out, my brother; the greater the debt, the greater the pardon; to whom much is forgiven, the same loveth much. But this poor man wants an interpreter, one among a thousand, to dive to the bottom and bring him up, and to bring out the hidden riches of secret places to his view; and when his case is made out afresh; that the Lord's way must be his way; that his tribulation is the Lord's way to the kingdom; and that be must be entirely lost to understand what it is to be perfectly saved; he won't mind how tight you tie him up in the bundle of life; you may then bind him up in bonds of everlasting love and cords of foreknowledge with the knot of predestination, and rivet him with the determinate counsel and purposes of God to his throne, against which the gates of hell shall never prevail; and he will then say, This is good news from a far country, and glad tidings of great joy to my soul."

66

But, dear Editors, you must catch me where you can, for I cannot keep to my own rule. When I set out, I only intended to have sent you a line or two by way of encouragement, and to express a feeling of sympathy with you in having the unpleasant task of wading through page after page, and perhaps picking up nothing; and rowing through a sea of stagnant waters, and sometimes with one, if not two, broken oars, is no desirable engagement, I am well aware; but you have some ballast in the vessel, for the want of which there are thousands not at all steady to the purpose.

May the arms of your hands be made strong by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob. Yours, &c. Biggleswade, Jan., 1839.

G. M.

Dear Editors,-Having very often read your valuable work to the comfort and consolation of my tried and tempest-tossed soul, I can truly say I wish it prosperity in the name of the Lord. I have read with pleasure and profit the writings of I. K., J. M’K., and J. C. Philpot, and my prayer is that they may fearlessly go on not only to oppose but to expose error in what garb soever it may appear, and

preach the truth faithfully as it is in Jesus, whether men will hear or forbear, tearing away all rotten props, and undermining all sandy foundations.

I felt a little surprised the other day, when a person put into my hand the enclosed letter, written by a man who styles himself a minister of the gospel, wherein he says he has disproved Mr. Philpot's assertions, and made his speech nothing worth. Now as the sermons by Mr. Philpot ("The Heir of Heaven Walking in Darkness," &c., and "Winter Afore Harvest,") against which this letter is written, have been made a great blessing to many of the Lord's family as well as to myself, I think, though I am averse to controversy, that when such productions as this letter are sent forth against the glorious things contained in the sermons, they ought not to be passed by unnoticed, as they may be the means of staggering some of the Lord's weak family. That the Lord may enable you to go on boldly with the Standard, in spite of all opposition, is the desire of, Yours in the best of bonds, Hackney, Dec., 1838. A WEAKLING.

AN INQUIRY.

I shall feel obliged if some of the correspondents to the Gospel Standard will give their thoughts on Jer. viii. 20; «The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved."

Some of us here have heard and professed the gospel for years, and yet cannot say, "My Lord and my God," as some of the writers to the Standard can; therefore we are jealous, and fear that we never shall.

St. Helen's, Feb., 1839.

ONE BORN IN PERILOUS TIMES.

OBITUARY.

MRS. JULIET ALLEN, WIFE OF WILLIAM ALLEN,

MINISTER OF CAVE ADULLAM, STEPNEY..

It appears, in taking a retrospective view of her spiritual life, she has, (for the most part,) through fear of death, been very subject to bondage; nor has she, though an unwearied and ardent follower in the ways of God, been often favoured with that satisfactory evidence in her own soul that she so much longed for, namely, to unite with the church of old in exclaiming, "My Beloved is mine, and I am his!" When first laid on her death bed, I asked her how she felt in her mind. She replied, "Quite restless and rebellious, and at times very dark." A friend said, "You are very patient." She replied, "No thanks to me." We felt continually an earnest wrestling with God in prayer for her soul's comfort; which, blessed be his name, he wonderfully answered. As her illness increased, she expressed a great desire to be raised up again, that she might meet with the saints of God to commune with them, as she regretted having kept her mind so much to herself. She said to her husband, "My dear, how is your mind led to pray for me?" He replied, "I can pray in submission to the will of God;" implying, which she immediately understood, that he could feel but little hope of her recovery. She said, "Then you cannot pray in faith for my life." He replied, "I can pray heartily and sincerely for your soul's comfort." 66 Then," "said she, "it is settled." From

this time she appeared somewhat quiet and resigned, and seemed increasingly sensible that her affliction was unto death. A short time after, she said, "The world to me is vanity." She repeated some favourite poetry with pleasure, and then, calling her children round her bed, said, “Mark your dying mother's command; live happy and in peace with each other as a family, and the God of peace bless you all, for I must leave you;" then, turning to her husband, said, “Give also my dying command to the church; tell them to live in peace, as they will shortly follow me." At another time, she called her husband to her bed, and taking her ring off her finger, placed it upon his. He said, "My dear, I am still your husband." She replied, "Not now. I love you, but I must leave you also." She exclaimed, "They are coming; they are coming." (It is believed that she meant the Three Persons in the glorious Trinity, as that was much the subject of her contemplations.) "But stop!" she said, "what is the clock?" The time was told her, when she said, "I shall not be at home to-day; I must wait." In sending her remembrance to a friend that was confined at home, she said, "Tell her I love her in the bonds of the gospel, and remember me to her mother and sister." Her husband said, "My dear, you could travel with them; they were weak and doubting like you, but you can now believe for yourself." She replied, "Yes; yes." At another time, she lifted up her hands and eyes to heaven, and said,

"O my distrustful heart,
How small thy faith appeared;"

(not appears.) Her daughter seeing her weak, said, "But greater Lord." She replied,. "No, no;

'Better, Lord, thou art,

Than all my doubts and fears.'"

After having a very sharp and severe struggle, she recovered a little, and sung with a melodious heavenly voice three verses of that hymn; "How sweet the name of Jesus sounds," &c.

When she finished, she took a basin of vinegar, and sprinkled the bed, then dipping a cloth in it, calmly wiped her hands and face, and then, waving the cloth over her head, she cried, "Victory, victory, victory, through the blood of the Lamb." She then lay down, and remained in a sweet sleep for some time. Her poor body was exercised with sharp pains, so that her sufferings were great, but she was not heard to drop a murmuring word. A friend said to her, "You can now say, 'Jesus hath done all things well.'" She said, "Yes, though I have oft rebelled against him." When unable to speak, she appeared (for the most part) engaged with God in prayer. When she had been sharply exercised with pain, her husband said, "My dear, it is hard work." She replied, "Yes; people talk of dying, but they must come into it to know it," and then joined in singing,

"Though painful at present,

'Twill cease before long."

Her husband began to repeat that hymn; "O Zion afflicted," &c. She said, “No, no, I want to praise God for his goodness and mercy to me." About one o'clock on Monday morning, January 28, 1839, she called for her husband, and laying her hands on his face, said, "My dear Allen," several times (evidently in excruciating pain); "But," she said, my heavenly Father is good." She was perfectly sensible to the last, and expressed her gratitude to all around her, and about three o'clock she fell asleep into the bosom of her heavenly Lover, to doubt no more.

EDITORS' REVIEW.

A Full Christ for Empty Sinners. By W. Romaine, A...-Ben

nett.

This little work is a miscellaneous collection of short sayings on religious subjects. With respect to the author's talent and Christianity, we need say nothing, as he has long been before the church of God, in the works which he has published; but as it respects the work before us, we must say we have been somewhat disappointed. We have met with some good sayings in it, but, on the whole, as a living, vital, soul-supporting and refreshing work, we think very little of it. In reading it, instead of our souls being softened, enlarged, anointed, and blessed by it, we felt closed up, contracted, and sickened. Our hearts recoiled within us, anxious to retreat from its pages. We must in honesty say, that we did not experience it to be what it is entitled, “A Full Christ for Empty Sinners." It contains none of that peculiar breath of divine life and heavenly power which causes sinking, fainting, and feeble souls to rise up and stand on their feet. It is too much like the sapless and general divinity of most of the old unbuffetted, unharassed divines, and we would rather have one page of true godly vitality than whole volumes of that which never goes below the chin. We like to have the varied operations of the Spirit, and the manner of those operations in the soul, particularly stated. We may indeed learn from the pamphlet that there is such a Being as the Holy Spirit; but we can trace nothing of his heavenly teachings, gracious dealings, or the communications of his almighty power in a sovereign way to the soul. We should not have so freely animadverted on the work of one so highly esteemed, and who is now no more in this land of the living, had not our hearts' desire and aim been to make known things just as they are.

Priestcraft Defended. A Sermon. By the Shaver-John Macgowan. -Bennett.

This pamphlet is an exposure of the grossly ignorant and Popish conduct of some of the heads of the University at Oxford, in expelling six young men from the University, for praying, reading, expounding the Scriptures, and singing hymns in private houses, &c., in the year 1763. It is ably, humourously, and honestly written. The author in plain terms lays open the carnal ignorance and worldly blindness of these should-be religious dignitaries. The work does not profess to treat on doctrine or experience, therefore none of these things may be looked for in it; but it is a worthy and honest little piece on the subject on which it treats. It was written by the author of the “Dialogues of Devils," a work well known.

Remarks on the Causes of Starvation, containing a Few Hints to the Poor and the Extravagant. By W. Gadsby.-J. Gadsby, Manchester; R. Groombridge, London.

We find from the preface, that the author very reluctantly consented to have this work published, and we hope that in future, in a similar case, his objections will be too strong to be overcome. It was originally written for the amusement of the Sunday-school scholars, and no doubt it had so far the desired effect, as the first part particularly is full of our friend's natural, good-natured humour; but as it contains