welcomed his visits from the first, partly probably from the readiness with which he listened to his tales and adventures at sea. By thus giving way to the old man's predilections for stories of the past, the Reader was enabled to get into his confidence, and from time to time to introduce the Gospel, which he listened to with much earnestness. He was suffering from a complaint which, though it ended in death, he had no idea would prove fatal. When this was apparent, he became more humble and solemnized, giving up entirely all allusion to circumstances of a worldly character in his past life. The last time the Reader saw him, he evinced the greatest confidence in his acceptance through the death and righteousness of his Saviour, who, he added, “loved him, and gave Himself for him." The comfort and peace of the poor fellow were probably much disturbed by the drunken habits of his wife. When he became delirious a short time before his death, the Reader found her by the bedside in a state of drunkenness, and unable to staud. The last case we will mention is that of a poor old man now lying dangerously ill, without hope of recovery. The Reader has visited him for some time, and has oftentimes had occasion to rejoice at the confidence expressed by him in a present Saviour, and even at manifestations of "joy unspeakable and full of glory," and that, too, at seasons of great bodily weakness. He often longs" to depart and be with Christ, which is far better." He has done with the world, he says, and is just waiting patiently till "his change come." His wife says she has witnessed the deaths of many of God's people, but has never before seen such peace, satisfaction, and even joy as are manifested by her dying husband.

With such encouraging results before us, need we ask the question, "Shall the Reader be withdrawn" from this poor and destitute parish, with its vast population of 27,000 souls? Will not the Christian public hasten to give us the help we need? "In a district of St. George-in-the-East," we read in the annual report of the Ragged Church and Chapel Union, "containing 230 houses, 150 are of ill repute. In a street of 35 houses, 17, and in a court of 18 houses, 14 are bad." But we need say no more. We appeal with confidence, knowing well that in many cases the rich care more for the poor, than many of the poor seem to care for themselves. Help us, then, through the Scripture Reader, to testify for Jesus in this dark part of the metropolis. Help us to proclaim to the perishing multitudes around, that "The wages of sin is DEATH;" but that "The gift of God is Eternal LIFE, through Jesus Christ our Lord."

GOD'S WORD, NOT MAN'S; OR, AN INCIDENT IN A SCRIPTURE READER'S DAILY MINISTRATIONS.

"Remember the word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast caused me to hope."-Ps. cxix. 49.

HE eagerness among the poor for the word of God-for the simple Truth as it is in Jesuswhen the Lord has been pleased to open their hearts to attend to the things read and spoken, is beautifully exemplified by the following little incident, recorded in one of the Reader's Journals. It relates to a poor man, himself unable to read, but willing to listen, and, as the Reader believes, truly "a brand plucked out of the fire. "I observed specially," says the Reader, "that he wanted to feel the ground as he trod. He would stop me in reading, and ask the meaning of any word or expression he did not quite understand, and say 'It's no use my hearing, unless I understand.' When I had satisfied him, he would say 'Go on.' He never stopped to cavil. He was an unlearned man; and if I made use of any simile in my observations, he would say, We don't want that; we want what GOD says.'"

Surely such a learner is not likely to be "tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine." He will "follow on to know the Lord." "He shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God," and "grow up into Him, in all things, who is the head, even Christ."

THE DYING SAILOR; OR, THE PROSPECT BEYOND.

"If I wait, the grave is mine house: I have made my bed in the darkness. I have said to corruption, Thou art my father; to the worm, thou art my mother, and my sister. And where is now my hope?"-Job xvii. 13, 14, 15.

EHOLD I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him and he with me." Jesus still waits to be gracious, still desires to be admitted to our friendship. He knocks at the door; He wills not the death of a sinner; but, though willing it not, He leaves to each man his own individual responsibility. If admitted, He comes and dwells with him; if rejected, He turns away-perhaps to return and knock again, perhaps to return no more.

He comes, moreover, and knocks in

various ways-sometimes by His word, or by His providence; sometimes by His Minister, or by the Scripture Reader; sometimes in one way, and sometimes in another; sometimes with less and sometimes with greater effect.

For nearly three years had one of our Readers in a SouthEastern District of the metropolis continued to knock at the door of a small dwelling, the inmates of which thought religion to be a dull thing, which none but the most profane need trouble themselves about. Yet during all this time, there was no friendly invitation to enter. The most that was gained was occasional permission to say a few words in season at the threshold. Man had knocked and knocked again, and God by man's instrumentality; it was now God's time to knock alone. "It is time for Thee, Lord, to work : for they have made void Thy law." And He did knock, and speak with a voice of thunder-a voice, which wakes the dead, and bids the sleeper rise. When God thus speaks, who shall withstand? who shall shut his eyes, or close his ears? "God speaketh once, yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not." But when "his flesh is consumed away, that it cannot be seen, and his bones that were not seen stick out; yea, his soul draweth near unto the grave, and his life to the destroyers," man oftentimes hears for the first time the voice of his Creator. How frequently is it then to hear, and to die in despair! Here and there, however, even under such circumstances, is to be found a brand plucked from the burning. To show to man that God's mercy is not clean gone for ever, the voice comes to him with power, "Deliver him from going down to the pit I have found a ransom."

It was not to see the person of whom we are about to speak, for he was a sailor, and generally on a voyage to some distant part of the world, that our Reader had called so often. It was to see the landlady and the other inmates of the house that he had so often knocked, and knocked in vain. At last she opened the door in response to the Reader's knock, not with that caution which had been her wont, but with an evident anxiety to welcome the hitherto unwelcome visitor. Her lodger, a young sailor, who was quite like a brother to her, for they had been brought up together in childhood, was very ill, and apparently dying. Very unlike the greeting of former days, it was now "Come in, sir, we are very glad to see you." So ready is man, when the world is receding from his grasp, to welcome and even to send for the man of God, and to learn from him something of the prospect beyond. He was soon ushered into the sick man's room, and was not long in discovering that life was fast ebbing away. This he felt it his duty to break to him at once, inquiring at the same time what his prospects were for eternity.

Amidst the full blaze of Gospel-day, all was dark within that breast. He had not the slightest notion of the plan of Salvation, although he expressed great desire to learn something about the way. The poor fellow had been living all his life in the midst of God's wonders. At one time amidst the frozen wonders of the Northern regions; at another encountering the burning winds, or treading the burning sands of Africa; God's wonders had been all around, about, above, beneath him, yet he had himself been living all the while without God in the world. He had seen God's wonders in the deep, and in many lands, but with all his seeing he had not seen himself a sinner, and therefore had felt no need of a Saviour.

It was necessary, therefore, that the Reader should begin with first principles, showing him how grievously we have all sinned and come short of the glory of God, how there are none righteous, but that all are concluded under sin. For this purpose he read portions of the 2d and 3d chapters of St. Paul's epistle to the Romans. He then affectionately but seriously reminded him that soon, perhaps very soon, he would have to stand before his Maker to give an account of his works, and that God had solemnly declared that He will "by no means clear the guilty." Through his own works, therefore, it was clear he could never enter heaven, for the very best works of the best of men were but polluted in the sight of a holy God. God required us to be holy, but seeing we were altogether unholy, how could we escape the wrath to come, or ever expect to enter heaven? This was a dark picture no doubt, but it had the effect of drawing him entirely away from himself. He could see at once there was no possible way of being saved, until the Reader pointed to the great sacrifice for sin, by which God could be "just," and yet "the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus." All the sacrifices offered under the law, he explained, pointed to CHRIST, the ONE great and only sacrifice for sin. Christ is "the fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness," in which all poor sinners without exception may wash and be clean. "Though their sins be as scarlet they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." The poor sufferer could not say much, but he was overjoyed at what he had heard. Joy and fear had alternately taken possession of his mind, until at length the former, the fruit of love, cast out fear, and he exclaimed, "That is very good. I want to know more about it." The Reader then kneeled down, and prayed that God would, in the richness of His mercy and love, pour out of the fulness of His Spirit upon him, and show to him clearly and unmistakably "the Way, the Truth and the Life." On the Reader rising to leave, the invalid said with much warmth and earnestness, "Do come again soon, for I feel as

if I want it (meaning the Gospel) driven into me." was readily given, and they parted.

The promise

A few hours scarcely intervened between this first call and the second, for our Reader felt it was a case in which there was no time to be lost. On entering the room the young man eagerly grasped the Reader's hand, and exclaimed with emphasis, though with difficulty, "I thought you would have come before;" thus showing the value men set upon time, when death and eternity are in immediate prospect. After a few questions had been asked, by which the Reader saw that the poor fellow had been thinking much of all that had passed at the first interview, he asked him what he thought of Christ as the great sacrifice for sin, and whether he could believe that His blood availed for him. "Oh, I am a great sinner," was all that the poor man could answer; and when further asked whether he could not see that Christ is a great Saviour, able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by Him, and that therefore there was forgiveness for him, if he would but come through Him, he could only further reply, "No, not yet; I wish I could." Feeling deeply anxious that the poor man's mind should at once be firmly fixed on Jesus, lest, looking back to self, he should be driven to despair, the Reader took out his Bible, and read the first seven verses of the 55th chapter of Isaiah. Turning then to the new Testament, he read a portion of the 6th chapter of St. John's Gospel, from the 37th to the 50th verse, and a portion of the 3d chapter of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, from the 22d to the 29th verse. As God's own Word was thus being read in his ears, the man's eyes were fixed upon the Reader, and his attention riveted upon what was falling from his lips, as if afraid of losing a single word. The interview was concluded with prayer, after which the Reader affectionately asked him if he felt Christ precious to his soul, "I cannot say so," was the poor man's reply, "as I want to do." Surely something had been gained at this visit ; and our Reader felt it, as the sufferer, taking him by the hand at parting, said in a faint voice, "Come again soon, sir; come again soon.'

And soon was our Reader again by the side of this young man, reading the precious Word, and speaking of "the things which accompany salvation," to all which he listened with the most marked attention. A great change had passed upon him since the last visit, and it was evident that his moments were fast ebbing away— that time was about to be exchanged for eternity-that he was going to that bourne from whence no traveller returns. "I am very glad you are come," he said, in a feeble tone; "I cannot read myself; I feel I can do nothing; there is nothing to live for