us that there is no power in prayer: wonderful men no doubt they are, but we say, Let them go their way, make fresh discoveries, and invent new theories, and we will go to prayer. We have tried it and have proved it. We know something of the worth of prayer. The men of God of other days were men who gave themselves unto prayer, and their deeds will be remembered when the most brilliant achievements of prayerless men will be forgotten things. Prayer makes us brave to fight the battles of life, and strong to labour for the Lord. With much prayer, and our few talents we may yet accomplish something great and good for God. Did not a praying shepherd boy do with a sling and stone, what prayerless warriors could not do with sword and shield? for by this simple means, Goliath of Gath was slain, and the stripling bore his gory head in triumph to the trembling host. Consider the lilies. How soon they fade and fall; and the fading lilies speak to us of our mortality. We all do fade; man cometh forth like a flower—a thing of beauty, but soon to fade. Human life is very brief, a little day for us to work in. The night will soon come, when no man can work. May we be up and doing, that we may hear the Master say, "Well done." A little while, and we shall see Him. Oh, happy period! then will the toiling servant enter into rest, the weary pilgrim put off his sandals. His feet will stand within the gates; he will lay down his staff to grasp the palm branch, and exchange his dusty garments for the robes of whiteness. The Christian warrior will ground his arms at his Captain's feet, put off his battered armour, make the battle field resound with the final shout of victory, then ascend to God, and sing the victor's song. Stowmarket. D. DICKERSON. HINTS TO SPIRITUAL VOYAGERS. IN a trip from Deal to Boulogne, one day last month, August, we particularly observed, on the return journey, several lighthouses brilliant with their electric lights, and thought what important lessons they were calculated to afford or suggest to every reflective mind. May we not, with propriety, compare those portions of Holy Writ, which point out the sins and imperfections of God's people, recorded both in the Old and New Testaments, to those lighthouses upon dangerous coasts and rocks. For, in spite of unblushing infidels, and sneering sceptics pronouncing the precious Bible to be only as a bundle of fables, yet it is a fact, patent to all, that its writers have been more ingenuous and faithful in recording the faults and failings of each other than they have been in pointing out the imperfections of Paine and Voltaire in their memoirs of those characters. The impartiality of the Bible in the delineation of character is one of the striking evidences of its Divine authenticity. Those lighthouses on rocks and quicksands seem to solemnly say to every passing vessel, "Keep at a distance, keep far from hence; there is real danger here." Thus, on the voyage of life, many beacons are erected as signs of danger, and to warn of impending peril. For while we have many examples placed before us in God's word for our imitation, we have also a great number of beacons to warn us off from habits of evil and scenes of imminent ruin. These are, however, too many for us to fully enumerate; only a few can be noticed. On the rock of unbelief, we see there a large lamp fixed, with the solemn injunction, "Remember Lot's wife." On the rock upon which David had almost made shipwreck of his religion, there is another with the words, "Flee fornication.' In the tenth chapter of Paul's first ex Epistle to the Corinthians, we have several lighthouses, so to speak, erected upon the rocks against which the children of Israel, in their progress from Egypt to Canaan, heedlessly and wickedly ran. Let us carefully consider the admonition : "Now these things were our amples, to the intent that we should not lust after evil things as they also lusted. Neither be ye idolaters, as were some of them. Neither let us commit fornication, as some of them committed, and fell in one day three and twenty thousand." What an awful shipwreck! "Neither murmur ye, as some of them also murmured, and were destroyed of the destroyer. Now all these things happened unto them for ensamples; and they are written for our admonition upon whom the ends of the world are come.' Fellow voyagers to the better land, these are as lights set on those dangerous rocks, to warn us to shun and keep far from them. The Lord help us to avoid the very appearance of evil. "Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity." "And let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." Sometimes a notice to mariners is posted up in some public thoroughfare, stating that there is a green buoy floating over a danger at a certain place, upon which the words "A wreck is seen. The scriptures have marked out in a most conspicuous manner some of the rocks and quicksands, where many who once preached the fundamental doctrines of the gospel; but in steering too near the rocks and quicksands of heresies have made shipwreck of faith-that is of the doctrines thereof. Therefore, the dreadful danger is discovered by the sign, "A wreck." In this day of widespread error, may we be kept in the truth as it is in Jesus, and the truth in us, in all its experimental preciousness and sanctifying power. Before bringing our remarks to a close, we wish to say lighthouses are used for other purposes than danger signals; sometimes they are used to point out the mouths of harbours or of rivers that lead into ports. The lighthouse at the mouth of a river says, as it were, to every vessel that comes that way, "There is the mouth of the river that leads to such a port; and if you are bound there, steer near here." So the godly conduct and good works of the old saints; they are left on record for us to imitate and follow; and may we seek in all our own individual lives to perpetuate like christian virtues for the imitation of the generation following. "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.' With what clearness has the apostle in the eleventh chapter of Hebrews marked out the track of God's children, who, by the power of Divine grace, steered forward through storms and tempests; and then says, "Whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation." As mariners would studiously shun all rocks, quicksands, and the like, as dangerous places, so gracious God help us to keep far from all sins and temptations. And O, great Captain of Salvation, steer our souls after the prophets, apostles, and all the saints who have fought a good fight, until we shall arrive at the haven of the New Jerusalem, to sail out no more for ever. to write as if I were a King's daughter, sending you a few lines. Unworthy, indeed; for I can assure you, my dear girl, I feel myself to be most vile. Often I fret and repine at the dispensations of Providence, although satisfied that all that befalls me my Heavenly Father has ordained for my real good. He knows best what is needful to keep me near to Himself. He knows what a foolish heart I have got; how soon it is caught away with the things that must soon perish. What a kind Father is ours, even when He withholds the things we supplicate Him for! I hope He ever will keep from me those things that are not in accordance with His will, however much I may seem to pant after and keenly feel the denial of them, which I often do. Since I last wrote to you I have seen many changes, many ups and downs. My father was ill a month, and I thought the Lord was going to take my only earthly parent from me. The first week of his illness I was in great distress of mind,-no enjoyment at the throne of grace, felt as if I had not got a God to go to. But soon did I find the preciousness of that promise, 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee," and was favoured to feel as if I did not mind were He to take away every earthly comfort. I seemed to live for a time alone with my Lord, and as if no earthly comforter were needed, and sometimes retired to rest thinking shortly to be without an earthly home, yet leaving the matter with my much-loved Lord, and crying myself to sleep as on His bosom. Surely it was a weaning time for me then; I can say I have enjoyed most in times of trouble; afflictions, I think are some of our best blessings in disguise. The Psalmist could say so many a time. How prone we are, my dear sister, to take a part of our dear Saviour's promise, when He not only said, "In me ye shall have peace, but also, "In the world ye shall have tribulation." If a dear friend whose company had often afforded us joy and happiness, was upon the eve of departing from us, how we should treasure up the last words he said to us! If so of an earthly friend, how should the last sayings of our blessed Lord affect us! Before he left this world He comforted His disciples and gave them consolation, the blessings of which, you know, belong to us now. He reminded them of what they might expect in this vale of tears, and how then can the saint of God now expect to be exempt from troubles? And meet with the children of God where you will, you find them tried ones, tossed to and fro, finding no rest for the soles of their feet; thus runs the unalterable decree of a covenant God. It is only as we view our interest in Christ, that we are enabled to rise above the sorrows and trials of this time state. What a sweet consolation to know that they work for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. Cheer up then, my sister! our journey is but short, we shall soon arrive at the desired haven, and then in the embraces of our Lord, be lost in forgetfulness of all the troubles of the way. Our anniversary will be on the second Tuesday in April. I should be glad to see you there. Do come, my dear girl; you should be welcome to my house, to stay a day or two. Anna Taylor sends her kind love to you, also Lucy Robinson. I have sent the Gospel Heralds, and you will have them every month. Farewell, my dear sister. The Lord bless you with every new covenant blessing, is the prayer of your sister in Christ, "Thy flock, thy own peculiar care, Though now they seem to roam uneyed, Are led, or driven, only where They best and safest may abide." The mere man of the world may stand by and look upon the removal of a pastor as a common event; but the man of God himself, who is removing from one station to another, looks upon the matter in a very different light. He sees that, probably, much importance hangs upon the step he is taking, and he cries fervently to the Lord: "If Thy presence go not with me, carry me not up hence." And it may be he fears he may hear a voice from behind him, saying: "With whom hast thou left those few sheep in the wilderness ?" Then he cries afresh to the God of Israel: "Let heaven's choicest favours rest upon those I am leaving, and the contents of the mercy-cloud of distinguishing grace plentifully fall upon those I am about to visit." Thus, if God works, sinners will be saved, and His great name will be glorified. Such were the feelings of the writer while making preparations for coming up to London. Our journey took place on Friday, January 13th, 1832; a very rough, cold, stormy day, at times. We reached our quarters, which were at Hackney (and which we supposed to be the very heart of London) about five o'clock. Never was a prince received and entertained with more kindness than we were by our ever dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Deane, and whose friendships ended only in death. Sacred be their memory. The day after my arrival in London, I was taken by my friend, Mr. Deane, to pay a visit to their afflicted minister, Mr. William Shenston. He was suffering from some internal disease, which caused a large amount of pain, and for a long time; indeed, he was a worn-out man at the age of fifty-nine years. Mr. Shenston was very pleased to see me, and from the short conversation I had with him that day, my mind was greatly relieved to find his views of Divine truth so fully corresponded with my own. He said he should not be able to get out the next day, but desired me to come and dine with him. The next day being Lord's-day, January 15th, 1832, at family worship in the morning, my good brother Deane engaged in prayer, and in that exercise he greatly excelled most of his brethren; and that morning he was peculiarly excellent. He prayed that the preacher might be helped to preach, and be favoured to feel the truth, 66 as it is in Jesus;" that the word might be blessed to the awakening of sinners, to the consolation of believers, to the restoration of backsliders; and, he added, "perhaps some of us need reproof; where it is so, Lord, let us have it, prepare us to receive it, and grant we may profit by it." My soul was deeply affected under that prayer, and I said to myself, if this is a specimen of the feelings and prayers of the people, they must be blest; for this good man is so desirous of a blessing, that he minds not which way it may may come, whether by consolation or chastisement. Arrived at the chapel, I felt pleased with the size of it, but found it thinly attended. My mind had (after much agitation) fixed upon Eph. vi. 23, and from that portion of sacred writ I opened my commission at Little Alie-street. "Peace be to the brethren, and love, with faith, from God the Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ." The Lord helped me, and the word was so blessed, that many of the old members often adverted to it afterwards. I was discouraged in the afternoon at seeing such a very few people, but was told that the afternoon was not a favourable time to get out, which was just the reverse of what I had been accustomed to see. However, I was mercifully helped through the day, and retired to rest, blessing the God of all our mercies. My dear old friend and co-pastor rallied after I came, and lived eighteen months. He would have liked to take the morning service regularly; but such was the Y character of his affliction, he could never be depended upon. He preached occasionally till the last Sunday in the year 1832, when he delivered his last discourse from those solemn words of our blessed Lord: "Give an account of thy stewardship, for thou mayest be no longer steward," Luke xvi. 2; when it seemed as if he had a consciousness of its being his last sermon; for he addressed us all-me, as his successor, the clerk, the deacons, the pew-openers, the church, and the congregation. It was, indeed, a solemn discourse. He came to chapel but once more, and that was on the first Lord's-day in February, when he spoke some sweet things from "Jesus Christ the same, yesterday, and to day, and for ever," and gave out the hymn "Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings, Thy better portion trace." And he sung with unusual energy (which surprised us all), the last lines "Yet a season, and you know Happy entrance shall be given; And earth exchanged for heaven." From that time he got out but little, and, after much suffering, he peacefully departed to his eternal rest, June 27th, 1833. At the time of Mr. Shenston's death, the congregation had considerably increased, the chapel was generally pretty full; and many had professed to have been blest under the word, and had been baptized; and others were asking their way to Zion, with their faces thitherward." But we are getting on too fast, we must come back a little way. My first invitation was for one month; at the close of that, the church gave me another invitation for another month; and at the end of that period, a request that I would supply one month more, with a view to the pastorate. Those three months formed a time of peculiar anxiety to the mind of the writer, yet not without tokens for good, and instances of great encouragement, one of which we feel impelled to mention : An excellent woman, who had been for many years a member of the church (and who, in her younger years, had been an intimate friend of the celebrated Rowland Hill,) who was very clever, and well informed as to the truths of the gospel generally; yet so it was, her soul had never been fully set at liberty upon the subject of justification. The evening of my second Lord's-day, I preached from the words, "Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth.' That discourse was blessed to the joyful liberation of her soul, and she was accustomed to speak of it with gratitude and joy all her remaining days. Herein was a clear display of Divine sovereignty. Our predecessor was very clear upon that fundamental doctrine of the gospel; and hundreds of sermons she had heard from many of the best preachers in England; yet it was reserved for the poor instrumentality of the writer to be made that blessing to her soul. And she talked of it to others, and thus became useful in exciting affection toward our ministry. Truly is it said of the ministry of the word, and the preachers of it, "My word shall not return unto Me void; it shall accomplish that which I please; and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it." What poor, little, helpless creatures we are, and what a wonderful God have we for our Master and Friend! Lord, help us more implicitly to trust in Thee, and not be afraid. At the termination of the third month, the church held a special meeting, for the purpose of deciding whether I should be elected to the pastorate or not. There were one hundred and fifty-six members present, who voted by ballot, one hundred and fifty-three, yes; and three, no. When we told this to the late Mr. Elven, of Bury, he clapped his hands, and exclaimed, "Well done, brother Philip; many sons have done wonderfully, but thou excellest them all; rarely, if ever, has any man before pleased one hundred and fifty-three people out |
