to the cleansing of all those who have ever felt, or shall ever feel its power and life-giving efficacy.

A thing is spilt when let fall by accident from any vessel or otherwise, and becomes utterly useless and lost, which cannot be said of the most precious blood of Christ, which was shed, or poured forth voluntarily, as a libation for sin.

If Jesu's blood were spilt, as some maintain,
Then on my guilty head my sins remain;
But if his blood was shed on Calvary's tree,
By faith my soul exclaims, 'twas shed for me.
Christ's blood, if spilt as water on the ground,
For rebel man no bliss could e'er be found;
His meritorious blood poured forth, he shed,
When on th' accursed tree, for man, he bled.
Of some indeed it may, with grief, be said,
For them the Saviour's blood was never shed;
In their esteem his blood was spilt in vain,
Who thence no saving efficacy gain.

My soul can ne'er endure the painful thought,
That sinners who by precious blood were bought;
Christ's dear redeemed, for whom his blood he shed,
Should crucify afresh their Lord who bled.

Walworth, Aug. 1845.

Sir, truly yours in the best of bonds,

AMICUS VERITATIS.

[To regard the word spilt in the light in which our correspondent views it, as applying to the precious blood-shedding of the dear Immanuel, would be beyond description painful to every soul who has experienced the efficacy of that blood; at the same time our correspondent must be careful not to make a man an offender for a word: if he sees that the general scope of a writer is scriptural, let him give that writer credit for his intentions, and not eucou. rage for a moment the thought that he entertained sentiments altogether adverse to his general statements. We see more and more the necessity for forbearance both with writers and speakers; and trust that these few remarks will suffice to prevent any contentious scribbling on the subject, for insertion in these pages.-ED.]

To the Editor of the Gospel Magazine.

DEAR SIR,

The translation of the twenty-seventh verse of the ninth chapter of St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians is incorrect; and since that verse has been quoted by many as if the apostle had declared, "that though he had preached to others he himself might become a lost soul," proof from his own words that he thought no such thing might not be unworthy a corner in the GOSPEL MAGAZINE.

The Greek word dokμos, which the translators have rendered "a cast

away, has no such meaning, or anything like it-its true import being "unseemly," or "not in accordance." Therefore St. Paul kept his body under, and brought it into subjection, lest having preached to others he should not adorn the gospel which he preached.

LAUDI DEI.

DEAR SIR,

A WORD IN SEASON.

To the Editor of the Gospel Magazine.

Grace, mercy, and peace rest upon you from the God of heaven. I trust it is under the influence of the holy irresistible Spirit of Jehovah I am led to write to you. I have strove against it till I can resist no longer, for I feel if I keep back from you what God has done for my soul, through reading that piece in the GOSPEL MAGAZINE for last June, entitled "The Refiner, and the Refiner's Fire," I should be robbing God of his glory, you of the encouragement due, and the writer of that epistle of the wages the soul justly deserves. Well do I know that epistle was indited in heaven, and let fall into that soul to send forth to print for the breaking off the stronghold of Satan. I must be free to tell you, my tried brother (for if you were not one of the Lord's tried ones firmly fixed upon the Rock of ages, I dare not reveal the state of my mind to you; but you know the tempter's rage, and the love of God that passeth knowledge) the state of my mind when that epistle came to me. My soul was in such darkness as was indeed felt and mourned over, and my pathway in providence so densely dark that I thought I should be unable to go another step to face Canaan's land. To go forward I could not; I could not see but feel my path, to go backwards I dare not, for I well remember the dangers of the path I came out of, and often did I say:

"And must it, Lord, be so,

And must thy children bear,
Such various kinds of woe,
Such soul distressing fear?
Is this the lot of thine elect,
In this unfriendly wilderness?

Never, no never, did Satan try so hard to draw me into the world and its temptations as at this time. Come, said he, taste this fruit, and all these soul-perplexing fears will take flight; just take a sip of this cup, and that trying dispensation will fall under your feet. Yea, I dare not say to what an extent these temptations were hurled at me, and all so pleasant to the flesh I was afraid I should yield. All I could say was, "O Lord, hold thou me up and I shall be safe." Indeed, the enemy seemed to brood upon my soul, and I felt my heart like a mill pond of corruption, and unworthy even to think upon past manifestations of divine love which had filled my soul. Yes, even to such an extent that I have cried out, O Lord, stay thy hand, thy dust can bear no more while in this frail tabernacle; and while in this furnace of affliction heated by divine love, as I read "The Refiner and the Refiner's Fire," each sentence seemed to meet my case, and well might the writer say, "What affliction so great as that which a soul endures

under a sense of contracted guilt, awful temptations, and the strength of inbred corruptions, the fiery darts of the devil, and the unjust persecutions from the ungodly, but how true did I find the promise that followed, “out of them all the Lord will deliver." For at that moment I heard the voice of my beloved, saying, "Draw near to me, and I will draw near to you." O glorious Christ, when he says, "Come," nothing can keep the soul from his embrace. No, my soul leaped out of darkness, and once more hung upon his neck to enjoy his smiles; melted in tears of joy, my language was, with a holy man of God,

"Draw me nearer, nearer still,

In fellowship with thee;
Until I stand on Zion's hill,
And there thy glory see."

Yes, dear Lord, thou hast tried me, and I have found thee a faithful God in not suffering me to be tempted above that which I was able to bear. Indeed, dear sir, I have not words to express the nearness I felt with my God; and then did I lift up my soul for the writer of "The Refiner's Fire.' I could but ask for like blessings to rest upon that soul; and this was my answer, "It shall draw water out of the wells of salvation" (Isa. xii. 3). Even so, Lord, let it be. O what a holy, secret, and solemn exercise is that of prayer; for worms of earth to draw near a holy God through a precious Christ, and speak to him as a man speaketh to his friend, yea, as a child to a father, and say in holy confidence,

"Father, 'tis in thy love I rest,

Saviour, in thee our souls are blest;

O Holy Ghost, thy power we own,
Which made Jehovah's glory known."

I am afraid I shall tire your patience in reading this poor imperfect epistle, but must solicit you will in better language thank the friend who wrote "The Refiner's Fire;" and had I the voice of argument, I would call upon each child of God, especially the tried of the family, not to be content till they have it in their possession. Oh, it is too mean a price for such glorious truth. Now I must solicit an interest in your prayers, and pray that I may bear more and more of the image of Jesus, even if I have to suffer more than ever for his dear name, and though daily obliged to dwell with the ungodly, may he enable me to say with the poet,

"Let worldly minds the world pursue,

It has no charms for me;

Once I admired its trifles too,
But grace has set me free."

Pray cover each error with the mantle of love, and allow me to remain, Your unworthy servant,

Oxford Street, Aug. 1845.

S. G. B.-A Constant Reader.

LITERARY NOTICES-On the 5th of November, the Rev. Joseph Irons intends publishing a small volume about the size of his "Jazer," containing an Exposition of the Epistle to the Romans, in which his chief object is to exhibit the contrast of that church when Paul wrote to it, with the pretensions of modern Popery.

Just out-"Songs in the Desert; or, Bible Gleanings." By ALFRed.

PEACE IN A DYING HOUR.

(Copy of a Letter to the late Rev. Algar Lock.)

MY DEAR SIR,

Agreeably to your desire I have enclosed a brief account of the peaceful departure of Mr. William Taylor, whom I have known for many years. He was an industrious mechanic-one that was but little noticed or known, but a most exemplary disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ. Some pleasing traits of his character as a Christian may be gathered from the closing scene of his pilgrimage here to annexed.

Moreover, he was a member of the church under the pastoral care of the late Rev. W. Huntington, and continued to attend his ministry to the end of his labours. Soon after which, by reason of deafness, he was prevented from attending upon the public ordinances with us. This defect of hearing, with other infirmities, increased, and followed him until the number of his days were fulfilled, and finally closed at the age of threescore and ten years.

This subjoined account was penned down by an intimate friend, who was with him during his last illness, and is as follows:

"About three o'clock on Monday morning (Aug. 26th), our departed brother was seized with all the alarming symptoms of the cholera, which increased rapidly. In the early part of the afternoon an intimate female friend was sent for. On seeing her, Mr. Taylor exclaimed, Ah, Mrs. H——, are you come to perform the last act of friendship? The Lord reward you for all the kindness you have shown me.' And then he fell into prayer for spiritual blessings to descend on those who had kindly helped him Mrs. H-in reply, said, “It is the Lord (Mr. Taylor) who raises up friends in the time of need." He then said to her, "Ah! the Lord has dealt very graciously and very kindly with me; his tender mercies are great; he will never forsake the work of his own hands." After this he was taken with a violent fit of vomiting, which greatly exhausted him, and that was followed by severe attacks of cramp and spasms, in the midst of which he said, "O Lord! if it be thy will to remove this cramp-but O give me submission to thy Godly wisdom." He then burst forth into such a flood of praise that was truly astonishing; blessing and praising the Lord most earnestly for a considerable time. When got into bed, he said, "Oh, Mrs. H, we don't serve God for nothing! Oh, what a mercy in such an hour as this, not to have the Lord to seek. Men may chatter about it when nothing is the matter with them, and all things go smooth; but to find God our help when we come into a dying hour-in distress and suffering-it is a mercy indeed! Whom he loveth he loveth to the end.' The faithfulness of a covenant-keeping God in Christ Jesus, is precious indeed under such misery." At another time he said, "It is a hard conflict-the cramp and the other together, but it is done in wisdom." When one of his relatives came into the room, he said, "Ah, Mrs. B, almost gone, blessed be God!" Being asked at another time, "How is all within?" he replied, "All's right! O the mercy of God in Christ Jesus!" After dosing some time, being asked, "How is it now, Mr. Taylor?" he said, "Talking with God-I have much to do there."

When he was tossing with agony, Mr. H—, said, "Your sufferings are

great, but I believe they will not last very long." He replied, "Let patience have its perfect work." Late in the afternoon Mr. H. called to see him again, but his agonies were so great, and his features so distorted, that he thought he could have no knowledge of any one, but he opened his eyes and with great vehemence said, "Ah, I see you, my dear friend. God bless you. I have a hard conflict." Mr. H- said, "It is hard, but I believe it will soon be over." He replied, "I believe it will." At night, another friend came to see him, to whom he said, "God Almighty bless you, Mr. Nand confirm a good hope in you to the end, and fix you on the Eternal Rock." Mr. N― then said, "Mr. Taylor, do you find that your experience? Do you find yourself on that Rock ?" Mr. Taylor answered, vehemently, "Yes, I do; and all the storms and tempests cannot move me. Blessed be God! About twelve at night all his powers were well nigh exhausted; yet he seemed in prayer at different times, and when asked, for the last time, "How he was within?" he said, with great emphasis, "All's well!" which were the last words he uttered. His eyes were soon fixed, and he became motionless, (except the action of the lungs, and gaspings for breath), about nine in the morning of Tuesday; his breath grew shorter and shorter until half-past nine, when without a struggle his breath ceased; he put off mortality, and entered into his everlasting rest.

"Write, Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord, from henceforth: yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours: and their works do follow them."-Rev. xiv. 13.

T. KEYT.

The Sherwood Gipsy; or, the Blessed Results of the Meeting of the Superintendent of Sion Chapel Sunday-School, Nottingham, and a Gipsy Girl, in Sherwood Forest, near that Town, on Sunday Morning, June 9th, 1844. London: Aylott and Jones, Paternoster Row; Derby Mozley and Sons; Nottingham: R. W. Preston.

Ir is many a long day since we have had such a treat as this dear little book afforded us. It is a simple record of the Lord's sovereign dealings with a poor young Gipsy girl, in whose way the writer was thrown. She was then in the early stages of consumption, with a mind deeply wrought upon by the Holy Ghost, but under the greatest outward disadvantages. These two enter into conversation; the Lord opens the dear maiden's heart to receive the word in sweet unison with his previous, to her unaccountable, leadings. She witnesses a good confession--is brought to a knowledge of pardoning love and adopting grace, and in a very few months goes home to behold, face to face, Him whom her soul loved. It is a heart-warming testimony; and causes one to fall into sweetest nothingness, whilst admiring the sovereignty of Jehovah's choice-the riches of his grace-and the strength of his arm, in rescuing a dear vessel of mercy from such a ruinous -such a degraded and despised position. Who of us has not alternately trembled at and despised a Gipsy camp? and yet here is an instance of sovereign mercy being extended to one of its occupants. We perceive the little work has reached its fifth thousand; we wish it may number a hundred thousand twice told; for it is the sweetest twopenny worth we ever read; it caused our heart to leap for joy, and for the first time in our life, we fell in love with a Gipsy Girl.

D. A. DOUDNEY, CITY STEAM PRESS, 1, LONG Lane.