proclamation of gospel truth, we believe is an experimental preaching of Christ in all the offices he bears as prophet, priest, and king, unto such characters as I have been feebly attempting to describe, for it is to such only he is precious; and why? because he is a suitable Saviour; he not only comes into the place where the sinner lays, helpless, and hopeless, but he possesses ample power to rescue him from his perilous and woeful condition.

Under such a ministry, the sinner born again of the Spirit, is emptied and filled; stripped and clothed; made to hunger and made to eat; made to thirst and made to drink; made to hate self, and love and long for a precious Christ; made poor and yet made rich; made to have nothing, and yet to possess all things; made to groan on account of this wilderness state, and made to long for the spiritual Zion, the city of the great king.

Wherever, therefore, this ministry is to be found, there would my soul desire to sit; and (as an instrument,) drink from it of the waters of that rock, which has been smitten for poor, lost, perishing sinners, and which, blessed be God, continues to flow into such poor sinners' hearts, to the comforting and establishing of them in the faith of God's elect.

Whether that ministry be in the established church, or among dissenters, or other denominations, is of little moment; but where it is wanting, from parson and from people I hope ever to be a separatist. I hope ever to maintain, (in the fear of the Lord,) not a warfare against men but against error, against a false conversion, a false faith, a false zeal, and a false Christ, "for there are, in these last days of the church, many false Christs gone out into the world, to deceive the nations of the earth, and they are sending their thousands to the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone, and whose torment ceaseth not. Solemn fact; they readily, or willingly, believe a lie, that they might be damned.

Should these few, and very imperfect remarks, fall into the hands of any who are making a blazing profession of religion, and as they think, are doing much for the glory and honour of God, and good of man, but who, in their hearts, despise the glorious doctrines of electing love, and the predestinating

decrees of a kind and gracious God; or who, perhaps, may give their assent to them, but who are afraid to advocate them, because they believe them to be dangerous doctrines; I would say to such, allow me to ask you, should there be a poor sinner brought to see himself in the sight of God's most holy law, in any of your congregations, should he be made to mourn on account of indwelling sin, should he be made to feel his utter helpless state in the exercise of faith in Christ, and love to Christ, and our Saviour, and who, in the face of all your offers and proffers of salvation, in spite of all your entreaties, for him to lay hold of the invitations and promises of the gospel, I say, in the face of all this, should he still persist that he was utterly unable to do so; that he could not, and dared not call the Lord his God, and Christ his Saviour; that he could not, by faith, take the promises of the word of God to himself: would you not, (I ask it in meekness, and I hope in the fear of the Lord, at the same time with honesty,) look on such an one with suspicion of imbibing an antinomian spirit? would you not charge him with holding dangerous doctrines, which lead to licentiousness, and every evil? and if there is no possibility of reclaiming him from his error, after several attempts to do so, do you not (let conscience answer) earnestly wish him to withdraw himself, lest he should contaminate any of those who are quietly sailing down the stream of that profession which, if grace prevent not, must end in eternal death?

Having made these preliminary remarks, I shall close for the present, intending in my next if life be spared, and an inclination be given to do so, to proceed at once to the subject under consideration, although I shall make no promises to do so, then I shall break none.

I remain, your's truly in the hope of the gospel. JABEZ.

that it is HE, and only HE, whom ye have How many take Christ by guess; be sure

met with; his sweet smell, his lovely workChrist and his cross are not separable in this life howbeit, Christ and his cross part at heaven's door, for there is no house-room for crosses in heaven.-RUTHERFORD.

ing in the soul will not lie.

SUMMER is come! The sun in Leo burns; the skies are glazed; the cooling shade invites us now among the garden trees, where fragrant flowers, and summer fruits are found. But, hearken! watch! the old snake is there; for though his head is bruised, he lurks among the weeds, and thorns, and underwood that bear no fruit. Take heed to that old withering tree corrupt, "the tree of knowledge;" 'tis said he's hid within the hollow root; if so, he'll poison all the fruit. Take heed then, what you eat; remember, poor old Adam, and his wife, they found "the tree of knowledge," miss'd "the tree of life." Ah! since our first poor parents ate of this one tree, "the tree of knowledge," which opened wide their eyes; their children all declare the fruit is good for food, and say it makes them holy, just, and wise. Well, if we say the fruit is good, we know it is only natural food, and natural men may eat and die. With all they know, it is only what they now know naturally. (Jude 10.) If our first parents, then, were poisoned by that fruit, take heed, my friends, for death is in the root! The serpent lurks within the root, and branch and fruit: men eat of the food, and call it good, and may die like the brute. (2 Pet. ii. 12.)

Ah! you may stare, but I declare, that's all" the tree of knowledge" bare. If now, it ope's your eyes, as wide and bright as Balaam's were, and heavenly mysteries declare, all natural knowledge dies. Yea, though we speak with tongues of men, and wiley fallen angels too; and have the gift of prophesy; and understand all mystery; and all this knowledge know: yea, may all natural faith receive, and intellectual knowledge have; and, like the devil, may believe the oracle divine; and mountain difficulties move; and feed the poor, through natural love; beast feed their own young kine: yea, should our natural zeal inspire, to give our bodies to the fire, to raise our reputation higher no profit could it be to me; they are dying fruits, from a dying tree. I, better things desire. Unless "the tree of life" be mine, and holy charity divine, I am at most, at best, alas! but like the clang of rattling brass, that dies upon the wind. This tree of knowledge is very tall; its branches spreading wide; some tell us there is fruit for all; there, men of knowledge hide. They live upon the dying food, and all declare it very good, and say it ope's their eyes, and makes them wise, to know both good and evil. But hear, I pray, how come you by that knowledge, say-came it not through the devil? (Gen. iii. 5,)

Why, boast then, of your shining fruit?

It all springs from a deadly root, whatever ye may know. The devils know, and tremble too, believe in God as well as you; ah! they know good and evil too, but have no love to will or do, the holy will of God. A word to the wise may end this strife: some know, but thirst not for "the tree of life;" nor Jesus' precious blood. Such knowledge leaves us destitute of life; remember poor old Adam and his wife, ate of this tree, and died; and so might we, I plainly see, and say-such knowledge vanishes away. (1 Cor. xiii. 8.) Man driven from his garden, with his wife, with all his knowledge, could not touch" the tree of life." Ah! "knowledge puffeth up." I feel my head begin to swell. Upon this "tree of knowledge," now, I will no longer dwell. Its root and branch is withering now, in every part; its fruit is foul, it swells my head, but does not fill my soul, nor cheer my fainting heart.

Spirit of life, divine! Come, Holy Spirit, come to me, and thou, fair sister, charity; come, lead me from this withering tree, whose fruit I find is death to me. Come, lead me from those boasting, noisy, knowing men of strife: come, lead me down the cooling, shady vale; shew me "the tree of life;" that ever-living, lovely tree, whose living fruits are sweet to me-and food for "the Lamb's wife." Jesus, that ever-green, that ever-living tree, once wounded in its side, that bled sweet smelling myrrh for me: that dropp'd into my mortal wounds and my poor gaping bleeding heart; silenced my groans, and heal'd my wounds, and cured my aching smart. Come, fainting souls, come look, come taste and see, sweet balm of Gilead from that wounded tree, can heal heal your gaping wounds; it healed me; drove mental, foul diseases from my soul; Jesus, dear Son of God, his love, and precious blood, can make you whole.

A shining cherub stood, with flaming sword, preventing my approach to God, it pointed every way; wounded this tree instead of me out flowed the healing myrrh, so free, 'twas health from life's fair healing tree. A bleeding Jesus, here I see, a consecrated way for me, through his most precious blood. Come, thirsting souls, come, enter in, this is the way from death and sin, the truth, the life, the way to God.

Fair tree of life! to thee I fly; my shade beneath a burning sky; my shelter is thy blood. How precious are thy fruits to me; no other do me real good: thy flesh my meat, my drink; thy blood; thou art my life, for thou art God. Fair tree of life! to thee, to thee, I fly in haste, thy leaves can heal my ulcered soul, thy fruit my burning fever

cool. O, how they please my taste! Love, joy, and righteousness divine; life, peace and pardon, all are mine-how sweet! they do me good. A stormy wind shak'd life's fair tree; ripe fruit comes tumbling down to me, from God, through Jesus' blood: under thy shadow with delight, I spend the sultry day, and wear the long dark night away; and sometimes thou hast heard me say, under the shadow of thy blood, I find sweet rest and peace with God. Delicious are thy fruits to me, love-apples ripe from life's fair tree; yea, I have tasted, I have felt, these apples in my mouth to melt, and melting, melt my soul. Love-apples, from love's apple-grove, they smell, they taste of Jesus love, and all my inward fevers cool.

Fair tree of life! thy root is all divine; our life is hid in God with thine: thy body pure, and every branch in this fair living tree, brings forth some living fruits, great God to thee. 'Tis from the holy root, the branches are supplied, with life and sap, and bring forth fruit: thus God is glorified. Shine, sun; blow, wind; come, rain and water me-spring up, O Lord, my life, in my poor soul, that I may bear more fruit to thee. Come, come, my dearest Lord, come down, and eat thy own, thy pleasant fruit, 'tis not from me, it is from thee; thou art the holy root. My God and man, in this fair tree I view, the root of David and his offspring too; in him is wisdom, life, and power divine; the life is such, that the old serpent could not touch. Saints! How can he touch your's or mine?

Sweet tree of life! thou art my healthful food; I live upon thy fruits, the benefits of thy death, and blood; and love, and life, and righteousness are sweet to me, I live on life, found in this healing tree; and every branch found in this living tree, must bear the fruits of love and prayer and praise, upon their lips to thee.

best

Come, dearest lovely Lord; and let me hear thee knocking at my door; and though I am so lame and sick, and miserably poor, my longing heart would leap, to open unto thee: that I might sup with thee, and thee with me. And let me taste again, sweet summer fruits, from life's refreshing tree, and then, ah then, my best beloved, I shall bring forth fruits of praise for thee. Then let us sup, and eat and drink of Engedie's best wine. Then let me say, that I my beloved's am, and he is mine. Like John, I'd lean my weary head upon thy tender breast, through the sweet wispering words of love, I shall be truly bless'd. Then after supper, rest in sleep I'll take, to breakfast with my Lord, when I awake; until I sleep in dust, time's lingering night away, and wake to sleep no more in life's unclouded day, to see the morn of glory dawn, and shadows flee away. A WATCHMAN ON THE WALLS. Leicester, 1846.

The Footsteps of the Flock.

I'd raise to God a grateful song,
For his great love to me
In putting me, a worm, among
His chosen family.

He held me in his fond embrace,
E're I in Adam fell;
Design'd that I should see his face
And never go to hell;

Put me in Christ his darling Son,

Ere earth and skies were made;
And thus I was a holy one

In Christ my holy head.
But that I might his truth embrace,
And Jesus, glory in,

He shew'd to me my wocful case,
That I was nought but sin.

His holy law he did apply,

To show me I was lost,

Then none but Christ who came to die,
Was my sweet theme and boast.
This God of love has made himself,

More precious day by day,
More dear to me than wordlings pelf,
Which soon must pass away.

Though sin and darkness, doubts and fears,
Hath caus'd me greatest grief;
As often did my God appear
And give me sweet relief.

When sunk as to the gates of hell,
In sorrow's horrid gloom,
My God did his dear self reveal,

And bade this hell begone.

He hath sent forth his healing word,
And made me to rejoice,

And know I'm saved in the Lord
As his beloved choice.

He made his truth most plain to me,
That he'll not change in love,
Or least unkind would to me be,
Though I did faithless prove.
In nature too, as well as grace,

Oft hath my God appear'd,
For which I ne'er would cease to praise,
This good and bounteous Lord.
Avaunt, my unbelieving heart,

Be still; I am God's care;
He never did from me depart.
Nor disregard my prayer.

His faithfulness can't know an end;
Nor can his love grow cold:
He is my true eternal Friend;
From me he'll nought withhold.
And as my many needs require,
He will again appear;
Prove hell and unbelief a liar;
And thus dismiss my fear.
He hath told me my sin's forgiven,
And hush'd dread Sinia's blast;
Prov'd me a special heir of heaven,
Whom he will hold most fast.
With saving grace he did adorn
My fallen helpless soul;
Prov'd me built on the corner-stone,.
While endless ages roll.

Told me he was my stable rock,

My strength, and my defence;

1

And that, though hell and world should mock,
They cannot pluck me hence.

These sacred spots I bear in mind,
When God did thus reveal
The love of his eternal mind,
My soul with joy to fill.

LOVE-TRUTH.