here." Seeing he was panting for the living Word, the Reader at once opened his Bible, and read to him parts of the 49th and 51st Psalms, the 55th chapter of Isaiah, the 5th chapter of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, and the 11th chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, remarking particularly on the wonderful love of God in giving His dear Son to die "for the ungodly." "God commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." This was the one great theme upon which he was led to speak, showing to the poor sufferer by his side the duty and privilege of believing on Him, and accepting the great Atonement made once for all. Oh, if the careless ones of this world could but witness such a scene as this, they would see, by the earnestness with which the sick young man listened, how inestimably precious is the immortal soul, and how man values it, and values time, as life and death stand side by side, and a few hours are to settle the most important of all questions-whether in fact he is to be ushered into Heaven, to be with Him in whose presence there is "fulness of joy," and at whose right hand there are "pleasures for evermore ;" or to be plunged into Hell, where "their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched." To a question asked in reference to "the hope that was in him," he answered, "I believe and trust in GOD; and if men only knew how foolish, as well as useless it is to sin against Him, they would never do it." He made an effort to continue, but his weakness increased, his voice faltered, and he could say no more. After prayer, he pressed the Reader's hand, as if he had been his nearest and dearest friend on earth, and said to him, "Do come again soon, yes, as often as you like."

Our Reader now left, but his thoughts were alternately in that room with the poor young dying sailor, and flying upwards to the Throne of Grace. What a spectacle he had left behind him! There sat the poor sufferer, for he could not lie down ; the earthly house of his tabernacle being dissolved; his look haggard; his eye sunken ; his cheeks flushed; the outer man decaying; the very photograph, it might almost be said, of Death! But, amidst it all, there was one bright, one blessed feature. His heart was being changed into the likeness of Christ. Hope had sprung up, where formerly there was no hope. Faith had begun to realize a Saviour, ready and able to save to the uttermost all who come unto God by Him. Time was (and how lately!) when he "cared for none of these things;" when he cared nothing for his soul, for eternity, for GOD, but now, how changed the picture! Instead of indifference, he had "a good hope through grace." Life was before him, not death; a blessing, not a curse; heaven, not hell; the company of God, of Angels, of the spirits of the just made perfect, not the everlasting

fire prepared for the devil and his angels! Well might the Reader go home comforted in spirit, that another sinner had to all appearance been plucked as a brand from the burning, to sing through all eternity the "new song" with that great multitude which no man can number of all nations and kindreds, and people, and tongues, who stand before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands.

On Sunday evening, the 10th May, our Reader paid his last visit, as it proved, to the dying sailor. He felt better than usual, he assured the Reader, and so he was, but only in regard to the inner man, for the outer man was perishing day by day. He was more calm, more peaceful, more trusting, more loving. He was lifted up from earth, and was ascended "in heart and mind" whither his Saviour Christ had gone before. The Reader took out his Bible, and read and conversed upon the 3d chapter of St. John's Gospel, and part of the 53d chapter of Isaiah. As he was calling the poor fellow's attention to those beautiful and touching words, "With His stripes we are healed," and "The LORD hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all,” he exclaimed, with apparent delight, "YES, YES, YES," as he drank in the precious truth. As if to mar the work of grace, the landlord here interposed, and said, "William has not been a very great sinner. He has never been a wild, dissipated man." But William knew better, and replied,

66

Oh, it is not so, it is not that, we are all sinners." The Reader now turned to the landlord, and pointed out that Christ came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance; and that if we were not sinners we needed no Saviour; but the 12th verse of the 5th chapter of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans quite settled the question that "all have sinned." He then read the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican. The landlord was constrained to confess that he saw things differently now, and from that time he has always received with kindness the visits of the Reader. Our Reader now left them, intending to call again next day; but next day he was taken ill himself, and, sending to tell the sailor so, found that he had quietly, and almost without a sigh, resigned his spirit into the hand of GOD who gave it. Though disappointed in not seeing him again on earth, the Reader had no doubt that a great and saving change had passed upon his soul. From the first he anxiously desired to know about the things which concerned his everlasting peace, and when the great scheme of salvation was unfolded to him, he took time to consider and ponder over it. He did not rush hastily to a conclusion, without first clearly understanding the grounds upon which he was called to believe.

And now we must leave the young sailor till the morning of

the Resurrection. He has sailed his last voyage. The last storm has driven his frail bark over the great ocean of life, into the haven where he would be. Here he was often tempest-tost, and the waves often threatened to bury him in the great cemetery of waters. But there no billows roar. "The former things are passed away." "There shall be no more sea." He shall have no more midnight watches, no long, dreary, starless nights: The City he has gone to has no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it; for the glory of God does lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof, "and there shall be no more curse; but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and His servants shall serve Him and they shall see His face; and His name shall be in their foreheads."

"There he shall see His face,

And never, never sin ;

There from the fountain of His grace

Drink endless pleasures in."

THE DRUNKARD'S HOUSEHOLD; OR, THE FATAL EFFECTS OF INTEMPERANCE.

"Awake, ye drunkards, and weep; and howl, all ye drinkers of wine, because of the new wine; for it is cut off from your mouth."-JOEL i. 5.

"Know ye not, that to whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to whom ye obey; whether of sin unto death, or of obedience unto righteousness?-ROM. vi. 16.

BOUT four years ago, one of our Readers in the South of London entered, for the first time, the house of a labourer and his wife.

It was in the

course of his ordinary visitation from house to house; but he had already heard of their intem

perate habits, and so was prepared, while pointing

to a Saviour, to remonstrate with them on the sin of their evil practices. They were professedly Roman Catholics, though they seldom, if ever, went to a place of worship, and were as seldom, it is believed, visited by any Roman Catholic Priest. Under such circumstances, it was not much to be wondered at that our Reader should be received with cold indifference. They would not, on this occasion, have the Word of God read to them; nor, indeed, on any subsequent occasion would they allow it to be read: still our Reader felt it his duty to pay his regular visit to the house, to speak of the exceeding sinfulness of sin against a God of love and mercy, and to quote texts, since he could not read them, from the Word of Life.

66

All, however, was to no purpose. He was met with opposition on every side. 'Oh, you are paid to come; it is your trade. I could quote such passages," it was often said to him; "I have read the Bible as well as you." They were constantly seen going in and out of the public-house, and the Reader has often stopped and spoken a solemn word of caution to the woman as he met her in the street. But she would not listen. On one occasion, when engaged in his duties in the neighbourhood, a young man, whom the Reader understood to be their son, brought out a jug of beer, and, thrusting it in his face before all the people, jeeringly invited him to drink. On his declining to do so, he insultingly seized his hat, and for some time obstinately refused to give it up. On another occasion, the woman herself threatened to throw scalding water over him. Thus they continued to the last to treat the messenger and the Message. The Gospel had been lovingly set before them, but they "put it from" them, like the Jews of Antioch, judging themselves "unworthy of everlasting life." Two years had passed away since the Reader's first visit to the house, when the man went as usual, to the public-house. Here he was carousing with his boon companions, when suddenly he was seized with illness. He was alarmed, and they were alarmed, but all were helpless for good. They could do nothing for the poor tippler, but take him home and let him die. He lingered on for a short time; but, ere twentyfour hours had passed away, the man was a CORPSE. Excessive drinking had done its work. It had sent the man who lived only for this world, into the next! It had sent the deathless soul to meet the great God and Saviour!-that God, whom it never desired to serve or love; that Saviour, whose wonderful loving-kindness had no charms to engage it to obedience, duty, and esteem!

The wife was now a widow. Would that she had become a "widow indeed;" for "she that is a widow indeed, and desolate," says St. Paul, “trusteth in God, and continueth in supplications and prayers, night and day." "But," he adds, "she that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth." Alas! this poor woman had no heavenly Husband, Father, Friend to flee to; no God and Saviour upon whom to cast herself, and all her concerns, as knowing that He cared for her. Accordingly, when the first feelings of grief had passed away, she returned to her evil ways, and went on her usual course. Even a serious illness, which she had some months afterwards, did not arrest her. For a time, indeed, it did seem as if the sickness had been in some measure blessed to her. listened attentively to portions of the Word of God, and even thanked the Reader for his admonitions; but, whatever impression was then made, all passed away "as the morning cloud, and as the

She

99 66

early dew," as the chaff that is driven with the whirlwind out of the floor, and as the smoke out of the chimney." With returning health, she became as hardened as, if not more so than, before. At length, the measure of her iniquity seemed full. Drink had again full sway. Troubles overtook her. She became unhappy, discontented, dejected; until one morning, on leaving her home, she expressed a wish "that she might die before evening!" and her wish was granted. Crossing the street in a state of intoxication, a passing cab knocked her down, and the wheel going over her neck, killed her on the spot!—at least, she was quite insensible from that moment till she died. Thus she, who in life scoffed at God's Word, despised His promises, and ridiculed His threatenings, was made in death to confirm the truth of that Scripture which saith, "He that being often reproved hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy."

THE POOR IN THE EAST OF LONDON; OR, THE ELOQUENCE OF SILENT FACTS.

"He that oppresseth the poor reproacheth his Maker; but he that honoureth Him hath mercy on the poor."-Prov. xiv. 31.

E extract from a weekly periodical the following painful account of the sufferings of the poor in the East of London. It is written by a lady, who has, we believe, given herself up to work amongst them, and who sees these sorrows every day :1

"The prices for which the poor work at the East-end of London will scarcely be credited by those who have not had the sorrowful experience of witnessing their privations. Again and again have I seen the single room occupied by a large family strewed in every direction by materials for lucifer-match boxes, and many pairs of little hands working incessantly all the day, and the mother far on into the night, to complete the order which must be finished at a certain time. For twelve dozen, if a simple box and lid, they will receive 2d., for the sliding box 24d. The materials are of course provided, all but the paste.

"I have seen a poor widow with two daughters (both on the verge of decline through want of air and food) employed in making the smallest sized dolls' arms. They had to find all the materials -calico, leather, paste, saw-dust, and sewing cotton-and for twelve dozen pairs were to receive 1s. 6d. While her husband was dying