another and if it should come to pass, that Mr. Spurgeon's ministry merge into a theoretical, indistinctive, and indefinite sea of words, ideas, tales, and anecdotes, it may, for a time, engage the masses; but for its permanence and sterling usefulness, I shall tremble.

Another fly which annoyed us, was the noisy collection of money previous to the sermon. I know many hundreds will flock to hear a preacher, and never pay for their pew. I know the expenses of Exeter Hall are great, and the people who go there ought to pay them; but the rattling of money, after solemn prayer, and before sermon, seemed to be most unpleasant, and deplorably out of place. Do let me ask, if a better mode could not be adopted ?—one that would not so violently break the service, and interfere so painfully with the worship of God?

I mingle, Sir, much with the people. I listen to much that many say—and such remarks as these speak volumes as regards the feelings of such minds as are nor prepared to overlook the defects of our services. One lady said"Mr. Spurgeon tells us, we are the scum of the earth; but his people cannot do without our money." Let us labour to avoid occasion for such contempt.

A third fly, was the announcement of a great meeting to consider the plans for building a new and extensive Tabernacle. There was a flood of ambition about this; not seemly, nor good.

I may be wrong, but I seriously question the necessity for such an outlay. We have large Chapels in London not half filled. If not one half the people who profit under. Mr. Spurgeon's ministry, can get seats in Park Street, I would offer a suggestion that might be useful in many

ways. Suppose, for instance, during the coming winter months, Mr. Spurgeon's labours be directed in this way :Preaching every Sunday Morning in his own chapel, as now. During the month of October let him continue in Exeter Hall every Sunday evening. During the month of November, let Dr. Campbell fling his Finsbury Tabernacle pulpit open to Mr. Spurgeon every Sunday evening in that month. In December let that spacious Tottenham Court Road Chapel be opened to him for evenings. In January give him Zion Chapel, in Whitechapel; and, so on to Spa Fields, and other now half-empty places. By this means drooping causes might be revived, the worst neighbourhoods might be visited, the Gospel would be spread, Sinners might be gathered, saints might be edified, and the idea of "monopoly," "self-seeking," "popular petting," and many other hard sayings might receive a final death blow. If the whole Metropolis was thoroughly and thickly placarded with announcements of these different spheres of Mr. Spurgeon's labour-the public mind would be aroused more fully and extensively -if collections at all these places were made towards the new building fund, the money would be raised-and if the leading ministers of our Metropolis thus opened their pulpits to our almost universal favorite-(and I know no reason, scriptural, political, or evangelical, why even the gay little Landells, the sturdy and almost repulsive Chas. Stovell-or the lively and eloquent James Wells, should not unite in this enterprize to stir up the people to hear the Gospel-) there would be a bold demonstration given that our Gospel preachers are not so bigotted, so selfish, so monopolising, as they are now said to be.

Turning from this more external part of my work, I wish now

[We are compelled here to cut our Correspondent's string, and reserve his other part until next month.-EDITOR. He signs himself,]

A FRIEND TO GOSPEL UNITY ON BIBLICAL PRINCPLES.

"CHRIST IN THE VESSEL"

We have before us an interesting little volume (published by Houlston and Stoneman, of 65, Paternoster-row,) entitled, Things New and Old; or, Recollections by a District Visitor." We think it is the production of a clergyman's daughter, whose life being principally occupied in visiting the parishoners, she has gathered out from her own observations and reflections, many very striking narratives, and recorded them here. "The loss of the Killarney Steam Packet" is one of the most thrilling. In the centre of that painful tale the following incident shines like a star in a dark night. A ladypassenger preaching to her fellow-voyagers when destruction dashed its mighty powers around. These are the words:

Some of the souls of those who perished in the wreck of the Killarney were saved; we doubt it not. When the danger was at the highest, and all hope that they should be saved was now taken away, there was one of the passengers, a lady, who went down into the cabin, and having called her fellow-voyagers together, read the word of God, and talked to them of the day of judgment, and of the blood that cleanseth from all sin, even the blood of Jesus Christ, the Savionr of perishing sinners; and she knelt down and prayed with them and for them, and assured them that now, even now, while the waves were dashing round the vessel, and they thought every moment might be the last-now, even now, they may believe and be saved; for the Lord Jesus casteth out none that come unto him. Surely it might be said of that cabin, that it was the house of God and the very gate of heaven.'

"What became of that lady?' would be the first question asked by persons at a distance, or by those who read of this wreck in time to come. Was she saved? When others of the voyagers

had climbed the rock, a rope was put into that lady's hand that she might be drawn up this rock, and be safe there; and she was halfway up the rock, and then the rope slipped from her hand, and she fell. Prayer was that Christian's vital breath,

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That Christian's native air,

Her watch-word at the gates of death;

She entered heaven by prayer.'

She entered heaven! Oh, that was better than resting on an earthly rock; that was better than being tossed about any longer on the waves of this troublesome world. Her husband was gone before her; it seems uncertain whether she knew this; but oh! if he, like her, was a child and servant of God, what a meeting was theirs! They are now made pillars in the temple of their God, to go no more out.

"When I read of the poor people finding a resting-place at last on the cold, slippery, barren rock, I thought of the words in the Bible, 'Their rock is not like our Rock.' Our rock,' I said. Do you know, dear reader, whom I mean? Did you ever hear or read a beautiful hymn which begins,

"Rock of ages, cleft for me?

The Rock of ages means the only Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ; and what is meant by being cleft? Cleft means parted, opened. The side of the Lord Jesus was opened with the soldier's spear. My dear reader, if we would be safe from the anger of God and the punishment of sin, we must be hid in Jesus Christ. Oh that his Holy Spirit may make you understand what I mean; we may talk of being near Christ, and being with Him; but this is not enoughwe must be in Him if we would be safe; we must dwell in Christ, and Christ in us; we must be one with Him, and He one with us."

M'CHEYNE'S CHEERING WORDS ABOUT CHRIST.

I WILL give you a sweet verse to meditate upon, "Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her Beloved?" Do you think that is your position? Truly this world is a wilderness, if you have seen it rightly. It is a place of guilt and shame. Every natural heart is a wilderness-a dry place without a drop of living water-and then all natural hearts put together make up a

wilderness world. The whole world lieth in wickedness. There are a few that know and love Jesus, and these few are panting to get more of the living water. Have you found Jesus truly? Do you feel willing to be all vile, all hell-deserving in yourself, and to let God's dear Son be all your shield and righteousness? Oh, make sure of this! Never mind what man thinks of you. I would not give a straw for the opinions of men as to whether I was safe or no. It is not what man thinks of us that will cover us in the judgment day. Oh, no! You must be in Jesus, sitting at his feet, allowing him to enwrap your guilty soul in divine righteousness.

If you were lying at the bottom of the sea, no eye could see your deformities; so when the infinite ocean of Immanuel's righteousness flows over the soul, you are swallowed up, as it were, in Christ. Your blackness is never seen, only his fairness; and thus a God of truth can say, "Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair. Thou art all fair, my love, there is no spot in thee." Keep this always in memory; and when guilt comes on the conscience, as it will, lie down beneath the righteousness of Jesus. Never lose sight of this; Jesus must be seen of the Father, instead of our guilty souls. It is no change in our black soul that is to be our covering. You must leave self, and stand in your elder Brother. Hide behind him. Let the Father's eye fall on him, not on you. He died to be shelter for such as you. If you are seen by the Father a naked, guilty sinner, you must die. There is no help for it. But if Jesus appears for you; if you hide in his wounds, and under his snowy raiment, then the Father himself loveth you, and now you are coming up from the wilderness. Every hour that strikes, that is an hour less between you and glory. Oh, do not grieve to part with the world if you are in Christ; an hour with Christ will make up for all your griefs and pains. Half an hour in the presence of our God will make us forget a lifetime of agony. He is the fountain of love; all the promises of God" in him are yea, and in him amen." I am sure if you would get a glimpse of him, you would lay your head on his breast and die there. May the Spirit anoint your eyes to see him more and more, and soften your heart to lean on him. Those that have leaned on him through the wilderness shall sit with him on the throne. Farewell, dear soul! the Lord feed you sweetly, as he feeds the flowers by silent drops of dew."