as neither in Sunday school, or elsewhere, did any persons talk with me, but I thought much.' I might say in passing that I think from what I have beard of Sunday schools at that time, secular education was mixed with religion; the Sunday school teacher might not then have such an opportunity of inquiring personally as to the interest his scholars had in religion, but now that there are increasing facilities for imparting religious know ledge, let us who are privileged to be so engaged be ready to encourage and instruct the young anxious inquirer. But I am digressing. My father writes, I remember one Sunday morning, I and one of my shopmates, and I think my father, had been to Lombard-street chapel, when on returning, Thomas Brittle, who enter tained high antimonian opinions, was complaining of the sermon as not being clear on the way of justification by faith, and from that conversation I obtained an insight of the way in which man may be just with God. My view of this became by degrees more and more clear, until without any tormenting fears 1 was led into a peaceful assurance of justification and salvation by simple and entire dependence on Christ alone. The clear apprehension that I early obtained of this great and leading gospel truth, I consider the main cause of the habitual peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, that I have generally experienced ever since.'

He afterwards removed to Castle Donington, but the labours connected with the ministry there were too heavy for him; his health failed, and for a time he was obliged to relinquish the regular ministry. His health improving, he accepted an invitation from the church at Kegworth, and he subse quently removed to March, where he was pastor of the General Baptist Church twenty-nine years, and where he died.

I have always considered it a difficult task for relatives to write of relatives, lest affection for them should prevent a faithful account, but I have no hesitation in saying that, as a Christian and a minister, our beloved father was highly esteemed in the different towns where he had lived, and by the Connexion generally. He was naturally diffident and retiring, which, as a public man, he felt to be against him. When he became a member of the church in Birmingham, he states that he was so diffident that several times he stayed away from prayer meetings that he might not be asked to engage in prayer; but this he was not satisfied with, and he resolved to attend as often as he could, and to engage when called upon to do so, judging that if he were not tolerably acceptable the minister would not continue to ask him. We have frequently noticed a degree of nervousness when he was about to engage in any particular meeting. Hence he never liked to leave home. He used to say his own friends knew his weakness and would bear with him. During the latter years of our dear parent's life he did not frequently attend Associations, the excitement was too great for him to enjoy them, but when he did attend them, we have noticed with pleasure and gratitude the esteem in which he was held, and the respect paid to his judgment. It was evident that he was considered a man of good common sense. It will be remembered by many friends that my father went to the Association last year at Wisbech, and although very poorly, took great interest in the meetings. It was feared he would not attend another Association. Those fears are realized; the disease

eventually terminated his life, made rapid progress. In July he came to Spalding, and consulted a physician of extensive practice and great experience, but all attempts to restore him to health were unavailing; he had finished his work, and the Master whom he had so faithfully served for many years, called him to his reward.

It was my privilege to be with my beloved father during the last week of his life. I shall never forget the composure he enjoyed and the entire resignation he manifested to the Divine will. He said he had not one doubt; it was all sunshine with him. On the Friday previous to his departure, his son entered his room, and when the excitement of meeting was over, he calmly said, 'My dear boy, do you consider I am so near eternity? And then, with great composure, he spoke of his desire to depart.

The next day, some of my sisters and myself were with him, when he recognized each of us, saying, The Lord be with you; we shall all meet in heaven.' On his daughter-in-law speaking to him, he said, How kind you are to come and see me. The Lord bless you and your dear children. We shall meet again;' and then, as if conscious that his stay with us would be short, he said, 'I shall see Him! I shall see Him! Oh when? Oh where? The eternal Rock is my refuge. Oh Thou bleeding Lamb! The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. A precious Christ is all in all. My precious Saviour, I trust in Him. I trust in Him now.' We were forcibly reminded of the ruling passion being strong in death, for when speaking of the preciousness of Christ he appeared as if he thought his congregation was before him. 'Brethren,' he said, 'do you trust in that sacrifice that was spoken of from generation togeneration?' But strength and memory failed him, he sank exhausted. Early on Sunday morning he became restless.

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Jesus would soothe him when everything else was receding from his vision. He continued after that in a state of apparent unconsciousness, until Monday noon, August 6th, 1860, when be calmly and quietly fell asleep in Jesus, aged 67.

The chamber where the good man meets his fate Is bless'd beyond the common walks of life, Quite on the verge of heaven.'

The Rev. W. Underwood, of Nottingham, kindly officiated at the interment of our beloved parent, and improved his death on the following Sunday evening, from Rev. xiv. 13. On both occasions, esteem for the departed one, and respect and sympathy for the bereaved family were shown by numbers attending and wearing the habiliments of mourning. On a subsequent Lord's-day evening, his death was improved by his son at Spalding, from Deut. xxxiv. 5.

He had visited us so recently, that the friends here were greatly interested in him, and many were the kind inquiries of him during his affliction. The last time he attended a public service was to hear the funeral sermon for our venerable friend Mr. Everard, but he was too ill to listen with any pleasure. Perhaps they have, ere this, recognized each other in heaven.

We feel that there is a blank now in our family circle. Our beloved mother is deprived of a kind and loving husband, and we of a tender and affectionate father. Well do we remember the happy hours spent in his society at home, where we ever had the example of order, punotuality, and general Christian consistency set before us.

Nor was the deportment worthy of imitation confined to home. My father will not soon be forgotten by many dear friends who highly esteemed him as one who carried out in every-day life the religion he professed, and who was ever ready to sympathize with the afflicted, and to comfort the mourner.

We would not indulge in selfish tears; his removal from us is the cause of much sorrow, but our loss is his eternal gain. May He who has promised to be a Father to the fatherless and a husband to the widow, be our protector and friend here, and our portion for ever.

It will be out of place for me to add much more. I might say, however, that my dear father had a good deal of correspondence with his successor, the Rev. T. Wilson, preparatory to his being introduced into the Connexion. We are thankful he saw him, and was pleased with his visits.

May he who has entered into the labours of another reap much fruit to the honour and glory of God, and in that grand day, when heaven shall ring with the shouts of harvest home,' may he that soweth and he that reapeth rejoice together. Spalding, June 4th, 1861.

Ir was one of the pleasant days in February. The long and severe frost was over. The morning was sunnier and the breeze softer than it had been for many months past, when two friends were walking cheerfully along the banks of the river. They had not proceeded far before their attention was arrested by the singular effects of the thaw. The ice which had covered the water like a coat of mail was gradually splitting up into fragments, and these were floating along in every variety of shape and size. And what confusion! There was not in their movements the slightest harmony. Angle struck angle, fragments jostled each other, and whenever there was the slightest obstruction in the current the larger masses drove the smaller ones before them and seemed maliciously bent on shivering them to atoms, or burying them in the lowest depth of the river. The soft wind, however, continued to blow, the sun sent down the warmest rays he could afford in that early season of the year, and by slow degrees the ice all melted away; so that before the friends returned from their ramble the stream flowed smoothly and silently, and the fragments that bad floated on its surface and seemed so disorderly and quarrelsome were now entirely dissolved and blended into perfect harmony.

What a change,' said Clement; 'this river does not appear to be composed of the same elements! I am sure the eastern emperor who denied that water could lose its fluidity would never believe the change we have seen this morning, even on our unquestionable authority.'

'I was wondering,' said Flavius, who

LOVE.

had been some minutes walking in silence, what this may teach us. It must be one of those ananlogies of nature which has some lesson to convey. The things which are seen are, no doubt, the clothing or embodiment of the things which are not seen, and there must be a still small voice (oh that we had ears quick enough to detect it,) even in the melting of that ice. Do you not think it illustrates the all-subduing power of love?"

C.-Possibly. I am glad you have introduced the subject. It often seems to me that love in the Christian world exists in woeful deficiency. There is no element of character more insisted on in the Scriptures. What a string of passages might be quoted-Love is the fulfilling of the law.' 'Love one one another with pure hearts fervently.' A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another.' And yet it seems to me that many who bear the Christian name have yet to learn the very rudiments of Christian love.

F.-And yet there is much more attention paid to it than formerly. The temperature is becoming warmer. The angles are beginning to melt away. Were you not pleased with what you saw and heard at the meetings of the Evangelical Alliance, in Nottingham ? Was it not delightful, during the first week in January, to know that Christians everywhere were praying for the promotion of brotherly kindness among all who love the Saviour? And are you not pleased with the general letter that has just been addressed from Geneva, by Merle D'Aubigne, to all Christendom? I begin to hope the time is not far distant when the human family shall form one brotherhood, and

the prayer of Jesus be answered,'that they all may be one.' Was there ever as much Christian love as now?

C. It is well to consider what is Christian love. I suspect a good many pretences. There never was anything truly excellent but there was also a liberal issue of counterfeits. That love is of very little value that serves only for parade days, or to render prayer pathetic, and then evaporates like the early dew.

F-I think you are right. The notions of many on the subject are very imperfect. But let me hear now your exposition of Christian love.

C.-I am not prepared to give an exposition, but will give you a few thoughts which have been floating in my mind. I should say now, for example, that Christian love is more than the absence of ill-will. He that hateth his brother abideth in death.' It is not limited to the circle of our personal friends. For if ye love them that love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same?" Nor does it receive its fullest expression in courtesy to those who exist in the same religious community. And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others? do not even the publicans so?" Now my ideal of Christian love is a brother's love. You have felt this, Flavius, for I never knew a tenderer brother than you. I have often seen you proud of the little boy that trotted by your side. Do you not recollect how the blood suffused your cheeks with crimson the other day when one treated him unkindly? How miserable you looked when he was laid aside by fever. And you know I always told you that you were not only inclined to overlook his failings, but that your glowing imagination transformed them into positive virtues. Many times, when you little suspected, I have admired your brotherly affection, and have endeavoured to form from it my ideal of Christian love. Am I wrong? F.-Well, I scarcely know. If any others were present I should blush at your good opinion of me. I cannot deny that there is in my heart a very warm attachment to my brother. It had never, however, occurred to me that my affection should be as true and

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of the same kind to all who love the Saviour. And yet, on reflection, I am convinced the Scriptures fully support this view. 'All ye are brethren.' Through unfeigned love of the brethren.' 'Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love.' 'Let brotherly love continue.' And, besides, Jesus too became our brother, and always taught his disciples to do to one another as He had done to them. Have you never been deeply impressed by these words of His, even as I have loved you, that ye love another.' This rises very far above your ideal, and besides it is a 'commandment.' I confess this has sometimes made me doubt whether Christian love exists in my heart at all.

one

C.-True, I can sympathize with you. It is startling to observe that we are commanded to love one another, even as Christ loved us. What a sublime ideal of love! When shall we ever attain to so lofty a standard? We must, however, aim with all our might to let that mind be in us which was also in Christ Jesus. Now there are several ways in which we may manifest the same spirit as His. Shall I state them in order?

1st.-We may acknowledge the relationship of our brethren. This may sometimes require self-denial. One who is rose-scented, or one whose phylactaries are very broad may say, I pray thee have me excused: that disciple is so poor- he is so feeble in mind-he is weak too in the faith-he does not pronounce the shibboleth at all clearly-and besides he is encompassed with so many infirmities that I do not wish to recognize him as my brother. Now such an one must forget that the Master does not blush to own the relationship. He is not ashamed to call them brethren.'

2nd. We may be tender towards their failings. I do not mean that we should connive at sin. Thou shalt not suffer sin upon thy brother.' But I do not think it is Christ-like to magnify the faults of brethren. Alas I have often known it to be done. There are some in the garb of Christians that may be called 'detectives.' Their forte is in detecting failings. They have a morbid taste, and feed on

the reputations of others. They belong to the same genus as the son that exposed his father's shame. If they can discover the smallest flaw they place over it a microscope of vast mag. nifying power, and then report their discovery with as much joy as the astronomer publishes the appearance of a new star. These are spots in our feasts of charity.' True love 'thinketh no evil, believeth all things, hopeth all things, and covereth a multitude of sins.' Our Master did not exult over transgressors, but wept. He shewed no pleasure in publishing the faults of His disciples, and it was a good deed, and not an evil one of which He said, 'Wheresoever the gospel is preached, this that this woman hath done shall be told for a memorial of her.'

Brd. We may help them in their difficulties. There is a spurious charity. It never extends as far as a kind look, an encouraging_word, much less to a helping hand. The type of this is not the good Samaritan that bound up the wounds of the sufferer, but the Levite that looked on and passed by on the other side; or perhaps the fratricide who said, 'Am I my brother's keeper?' 'Whoso hath this world's goods and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him?' It is acting in the spirit of our Exemplar to warn them that are unruly, to comfort the feebleminded, to support the weak, to be patient toward all men ;' and 'if a man be overtaken in a fault, to restore such an one in the spirit of meekness, considering ourselves, lest we also be tempted.' Himself bare our infirmities and carried our sicknessess.'

4th. We may co-operate with them in services for the good of others There is much that needs doing. Christ intends His servants to be workers. Every one has his mission to fulfil in the church. Only think of the vast field of labour. There are the young to be trained, the sick to be visited, the ministry to be supported, funds to be raised for benevolent institutions of this active age, and a thousand nameless things to be done. Now the true spirit is, Every man to

his post. Let every shoulder take its share of the burden. The church expects every man to do his duty.' But I have seen murmurers-persons who do little else than complain—creatures who see their brethren toiling and staggering under the load of responsibility, and these not only refuse to touch the burden with one of their fingers, but try to trip up and hurl to the ground those who are bearing the heat and burden of the day. It must needs be that offences come, but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh.'

5th. We may be ready to suffer in jury for their advantage. It is common to say, I shall be glad to render service if it can be done without injury to myself. But this seems to me far, very far below the standard of Christian love. A true disciple must shrink from no sacrifice which will serve the one family in heaven and earth. He is required to be ready to sacrifice ease, reputation, property, liberty, and even life itself. Are we not called to present our bodies a living sacrifice? Is it not said of Jesus that though He was rich, for our sakes He became poor, that we through His poverty might be made rich;' that 'He laid down His life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren?'

F. You have given me quite a homily. I was unwilling to interrupt you, and therefore listened patiently to the close. According to your representation, there is very little genuine love. Have you not placed the standard too high? Who can attain unto it?

C.-It may be difficult to do so. But is it not one of the first lessons we have to learn in the Christian life-to deny ourselves, and take up our cross and follow Jesus? And then, look again at the terms of the new commandment and ponder them,-"That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.'

F.-But how can this attainment be made? There lies before me the prac tical difficulty. Oh! how often have I tried to love persons for Christ's sake and have failed. It has very much grieved and discouraged me, but I confess it frankly, though I am deeply