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and the inscription, "Holiness to the Lord;" then look at the breastplate, with the twelve precious stones, representing the twelve tribes of the Israel of God. Do you belong to God's Israel? To which of the tribes? I rather think the most of us are poor, unstable Reubenites; yet we are on the heart of the High Priest. Seeing we have such a High Priest!" Is not this Jesus Christ, the same? There are several

other pictures of his priestly character.

4. In this you see a most magnificant altar-it reaches from earth to heaven, This altar represents the divine nature of the Son of God; it sanctified the gift and rendered the sacrifice acceptable and available. On this altar you see a bleeding, suffering victim; see the crown of thorns, his blood-stained body. Behold the man! then mark the officiating Priest, and you must recognise Jesus Christ, the same, who, through the eternal Spirit, offered himself, without spot, to God (Heb. ix. 14).

5. In this you see the same High Priest taking the blood and going with it into the holy place; not the blood of goats and calves, but his own blood, having obtained eternal redemption for us. In this wondrous character you must contemplate Jesus Christ, the same, passing into the heavens, now to appear in the presence of God for us.

6. In this we see a mighty warrior, just returning from the battle field (Isa. lxiii. 1-5). It is Jesus Christ, the same; he has destroyed death, and hell, and sin, and the grave; the contest was dreadful, but the victory was perfect and complete. You cannot but identify him, and can scarcely refrain from singing

"Thy victories and thy deathless fame,

Through the wide world shall run;
And everlasting ages tell,

The triumphs thou hast won."

7. Here we have a shepherd, and, by his looks, a good shepherd; how kind, loving, gentle, and compassionate, he appears! see, he has the lamb in his arms; you see his heart in his countenance. The sheep are all around him-some appear lame, others are closely shorn, and several look weak and sickly; yet all seem to be listening to his voice, and all appear happy in his presence. The pastures, too, how fresh, how green, how abundant! This picture must remind us of the good Shepherd that laid down his life for the sheep; yes, 'tis Jesus Christ, the same.

8. The next is a night scene (Zech. i. 8). Here we have a grove of myrtle-trees in a bottom or valley, representing the people of God as myrtle-trees, lowly in themselves and in a low condition. But in the midst of them is a man on a red horse, indicating power and authority, strong and swift to defend and supply at any point; the red horse pointing out the vengeance to be taken of his foes, and also, perhaps, his own bloody conflict. Who can this be, but Jesus Christ, the same? Remember this, ye lowly, tried ones; it may be night, but here is a warrior on a red horse, to protect even in the darkest season; in the back ground are horses, red, speckled, and white, denoting various providences; or, perhaps, ministering angels, all under his control, and sent forth to minister to the heirs of salvation.

9. We pass on now to another picture (Rev. xix. 11). Oh, say you, what a glory! Yes, it is heaven opened, and we behold a white horse, and he that sits on him is called Faithful and True, his eyes like flames of fire, and on his head are many crowns, and his name is called the Word of God; and out of his mouth goeth a sharp, two-edged sword, and he is clothed in a vesture dipped in blood, and on his vesture and on his thigh he hath his name written, King of kings and Lord of lords. I think I hear you say, "I know this is Jesus Christ, the same."

10. I shall only take you to one picture more (Rev. xx. 11). Here you see a great white throne, and Jesus Christ, the same, sitting upon it; see the heavens, earth, and sea, all in agitation, fleeing away; the dead are rising! the trumpet sounding the books are opened! the final judgment proceeds! Still it is Jesus Christ, the same.

Christian, what do you know of Jesus Christ? Those who know him not, know nothing worth knowing: those who know and love him, will be with him for ever, and for ever he will be Jesus Christ, the same.

CORRESPONDENCE.

To the Editor of the Gospel Magazine.

DEAR SIR, Unerring Truth declares that "those who are planted in the house of the Lord, shall flourish in the courts of our God, and shall bring forth fruit in old age." The following sweet and experimental letter from one of the Lord's aged handmaids seems to confirm it; and, not willing to eat my morsel alone, I am desirous that others may partake with me, and that it might also be productive of bringing forth others of the mothers in Israel for the encouragement of those who are seeking the footsteps of the flock. Would to God we could see more of these Deborahs and Hannahs in our day: did not the foundation assure to the contrary, we should say they were become extinct, and had given place to a race of Dinahs, whose love of the world was only equalled by the disgrace which followed. Wishing you much of the enjoy ment you so need in your arduous situation, and in affectionate breathing commending you to Him, the Rock of Ages,

Shrewsbury, May 12, 1842.

REBECCA to her brother JoHN
Sends greeting in the name of One
In whom they both together stand,
Bound in an everlasting band;
Praying that mercy, grace, and peace,
Be multiplied and still increase,
And richly on his path be shed
Through Jesus, our all-glorious Head.
But why, "Salopian exile," say,
As if you'd wandered quite way?
And if you have, I ask from whom?
Not Judah's Lion, I presume;
Because you say you there Him see,
So, if He is, you bless'd must be.
Nor are you at a distance far,
Since you behold the Morning Star,
Which you confess oft shines so bright,
Its vivid glories you delight.

Then why's your harp on willows hung,
Neglected thus, with cords unstrung;
Come, turn the screws, and make it chord
In tunes of "triumph in the Lord."
The strength of Judah's Lion's known,
His prowess has to you been shown;
His voice the foes of Zion dread,
And when his own majestic tread
Is heard within her sacred gate,
Their holes they seek, his voice they
hate;

All thorns and briers in his way

He will go through, none can him stay;
In vain is all satanic craft,

He'll tread them down and at them laugh.
Nought can his mighty power control,
He with a puff subdues the whole.

I am, dear Sir, yours,

A STRIPLING.

According as the "STRIPLING " writes-
Though some form'd weapon oft af-
frights,

And sturdy tongues against us rise
With all their malice, craft, and lies;
Yet we, in Judah's Lion's name,
In judgment shall the whole condemn.
Nor do these trials come by chance,
They're part of our inheritance,
All that the earth can us afford;
Our righteousness is of the Lord.
And thus he makes his mercy known,
To show our strength's in him alone.
It matters not what weight's assigned,
If equal strength to bear we find;
And if we never trials meet,
We ne'er could find the promise sweet;
So they who trials great endure,
Prove more the power of God, 'tis sure.
And thus his wisdom doth design
To make his children's graces shine;
Teach them by faith on him to live,
And all the glory to him give.
The Morning Star whose cheering beams
For passing darkness brighter seems;
And it foretels a coming day,
When clouds and darkness pass away,
The Sun of Righteousness shall shine,
And we rejoice in light divine.
Again I say your harp retake,
Make every note his praises speak;
Nor say you are an exile sad,
As if no portion there you had;
When lo! the Morning Star you see,
Bright pretext of eternity,

Where you a mansion shall possess,
Deck'd in a robe of righteousness,
And with the King himself sit down,
Who will present the promis'd crown;
And when the assembly is complete,
Then cast them at Emmanuel's feet,
Adoring at his foot-stool fall,
And crown him, crown him Lord of all.
But Deborah, that honour'd name,
To her I can no likeness claim:
For first, you know, she was a wife,
While I do live a widow'd life;
And then, a prophetess she was,
Israel to judge with wholesome laws,
And led their captains out to fight
Against their foes of monstrous might;
For iron chariots they possessed,
And Israel often much distressed:
Yet she by faith beheld them slain
On Kishon's banks, that noted plain,
And thither fearful Barak led,
Before whose sword the mighty bled;
DEAR BROTHER,

Their captain too, who in his flight
Inglorious, fell by woman's might.
She praised Jehovah in her song,
Who made the weaker vessel strong
To overcome that num'rous host,
Nor could creation's lords there boast.
But no such wisdom I possess,

Yet trust, ere long, with them to rest-
With Him in whom their strength was
found,

And who in me makes grace abound.
In self I'm nothing, I confess,
So what I am, I am by grace.
And Deborah with Jael too,

Were what they were by Him, 'tis true.
So we shall all unite in praise,
When we review the various ways
Jehovah took our faith to prove,
And show the wonders of his love;
While we in holy rapture tell

How Jesus has done all things well.

It is really marvellous that I should have let my pen run on in the manner I have; I certainly had not the least thought of doing so, when I took it up to answer your kind letter to me; only the first sentence popped into my head, and then, like some others, I thought I would adopt the apostolic style by way of introduction. But thoughts came and pen followed until it produced what you see-a reply to your letter in poet's form, but, alas! I need not tell you, if you have patience to run through it, quite without a poet's skill. But perhaps it may amuse you in your solitude, and if it should induce a "Stripling" to give an old woman a gentle castigation for her temerity, I hope it will prove an excellent oil. We are still in an unsettled state, nor have we any present prospect of its being otherwise; and amongst the many that have supplied for us, I believe there have been only two that caused the thought to arise (I mean generally), "Surely the Lord's anointed is before us;" although I should be glad to hear, "This is he, arise and anoint him." But, oh dear! what a mingle-mangle Gospel (to use good old Latimer's phrase) many make of the Gospel of Christ! I hope it is not so about that part in which your Master has appointed you to labour. We are all, through mercy, pretty well; I believe I am the worst of the lot, having a trying cough, which shakes my poor old frame; but when it is built up afresh, it will shine in the likeness of Him who loved me and gave himself for me. Blessed hope.

Yours, sincerely, in the best bonds,

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I am quite destitute of anything in the shape of news to write to you about, I must therefore write something else. I am ignorant of what prompted me to promise so difficult a business as an autobiography; it has far more difficulties than I imagined, when I promised to give you an outline of a life with but few incidents-of an experience without third-heaven joys or strong despairings. Perhaps you will think mine has been a pilgrimage of a very monotonous and uninteresting character; and so it has to others, but not so

with me. Begin (where I did) at my birth-a common thought with many, and yet how solemn is the introduction of an immortal being into a world whose prince is Satan and whose inhabitants are by nature children of wrath; into a world from whence thousands daily depart to add to the number of those unhappy spirits who are reserved in blackness of darkness to the judgment of the great day. I first began to walk the broad road that leadeth to destruction, on May 15th, 1816; and I cannot, nay, I would not, if able, put down the black multitude of steps I took therein; each step a sin, each sin black enough to sink an unredeemed sinner to the lowest hell. It is painful to look back to them, but how pleasant to look farther, and behold the Balm of Gilead dropping in the garden of Gethsemane-to behold the Lamb purchasing salvation with his own soul's agony.

"Could my heart so hard remain,

If I felt a Saviour's love?"

I cannot look upon him and mourn, neither can I rejoice. Pray for me, my dear friends, that my heart may be softened, my love increased, and my faith strengthened. I am not worthy of your prayers, but yet I need them. May grace, mercy, and peace be multiplied unto you from a Triune covenant Jehovah.

Feb. 26, 1836.

DEAR SIR,

I remain, ever, your affectionate Friend,

To the Editor of the Gospel Magazine.

HARRY.

I am right glad to hear you are safely ensconced in so comfortable a niche and dwelling in so exalted a place as the upper story; may it long continne, and may the blessings from above, with those that couch from beneath, be your portion; and may you, as the elect of God, put on bowels of mercy toward us who dwell in an humble stall. From your observations on my former piece, which acted as an astringent upon my weak mind, I was inclined to think you rather viewed me in the character of a troubler in Israel, more than a wellwisher to Zion. Did you but know how often these hoary locks have been shaken, and my brow, now furrowed with age, knit with pain at beholding the desolation of Zion, you would not think such hard thoughts of old Crispin, or designate him, with some degree of sarcasm, the Cobbler. My name is Crispin, and I live in a stall, but disdain the name cobbler in things pertaining to godliness, although I am but a clumsy workman. Pardon, what by some might be termed, the garrulity of an old man, and allow my Catholic scribenda; for I mourn the loss from our ranks of such men as Toplady, Romaine, Hawker, and others; and, while thankful that we have a few young Josiahs, in whose hearts there is something good towards the Lord God of Israel, would exercise a godly jealousy, that every presuming Elisha has not caught the fallen mantle of the departed Elijah.

I give thee credit, Friend Editor, for your honesty, integrity, and zealous endeavours in discharging the high and responsible situation you are placed in, and do believe that no other Magazine stands upon equal ground with it; from its birth it has been an outcast, and very distant may be the day when it shall be found otherwise. We have plenty of religious menageries, and other amusing things for the entertainment of those in the Gentile court; may we have continued one pure stream to refresh the Zion-bound traveller, and may its pages ever yield clean provender, winnowed with the shovel and the fan.

That my last epistle should have given thee pain for one moment, Friend Editor, was far from my wish; nor can I conceive how it could be the case, unless the worthy Editor, instead of having a heart as impervious to hammering as Crispin's lapstone, be in possession of one as susceptible as tissue-paper; I verily believe it will grow harder under the temperament of the niche, when we shall find you not afraid at the shaking of the spear. My integrity I will still hold, notwithstanding you have adopted a new motto for your pretty parsons;

indeed, indeed, the metamorphose is so great, that we old men cannot distinguish between many of your gown-flying gentlemen and those who claim affiance with the race of Boniface, Gregory, and Pius. O'd Crispin, in all probability, will have vacated his stall, but his friend might not the niche, when that day shall arrive, when British Non. Cons. shall as eagerly assume the Pope's purple as they do now the gilded bait of D.D. and M.A.: it is not far distant; the sound of the war-whoop even now strikes on the ear. O England ! England ! how art thou fallen! thine own children are helping on the great machine of thy destruction, and the canker-worm of thy pride is feeding on thy vitals, while the perverse within thee are found to assail every faithful reprover with ; " Go up, thou bald-head, go." Who will give mine head waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for her that is slain?

Be strong and of a good courage, and lift up thy hand and hew in pieces every delicate Agag; let not their bleating proclaim thy cowardice, but, on the other hand, leave them neither great nor small, for the Lord of hosts hath de. termined a consumption. An old man's prayers are with you, which age can never render imbecile; nor can the monotonous din of my stall, with the whole accumulation of many years' stock of old shoes and clouted, engross so much of my attention as to prevent my friend in the niche being looked after by, and now and then hearing from,

My Stall, Amen Corner.

THE EDITOR, IN REPLY.

CRISPIN.

1. Though Crispin may dwell in a "stall," and the Editor in a "niche," the "safety" and "comfort" of the former may be as much or more realized than the latter. Crispin must well know that an exalted position is not often an enviable one, seeing its exposure to attack. 2. Had we regarded Crispin only as a troubler in Israel, his letter would not have found its way into the pages of this Magazine.

3. Not with sarcasm, but with a little humour, which our correspondent's assumed character warranted, did we respond to him as the Cobbler.

4. Not more than ourselves does Crispin mourn the loss of a Toplady, a Romaine, a Hawker (a Huntington), and others.

5. If Crispin imagines that we exercise no degree of caution in receiving those as God's ministers who come forth in a ministerial garb, he is mistaken; or if his remark in reference to a "presuming Elisha" is intended more immediately to apply to ourselves, our answer is, we were not a volunteer in the service of the Lord, nor have we, except on isolated occasions, been his willing servant since. Jonah-like has been our character. Necessity has been laid upon us Like a burning fire has the word of the Lord been within us(Jeremiah, ix. 20), and out of the abundance of the heart has the burdened spirit sought relief, not in words, but 'in writing. But now, having entered the field-stripped as we have been of the idols of the heart since our connexion with this Magazine-we hope to drop in the field ere we quit our post, or rescind a single doctrinal or experimental truth we have been led to advance. 6. The comfort of the living family of God has been, and still is, our object; and we hope, as a standard-bearer of the Cross, that when the common enemy shall receive his commission to pierce this heart, we shall drop beneath the waving banner bearing as its motto the 1st verse of the 40th chapter of Isaiah.

7. If Crispin had been but a stripling buckling on the harness, his letter would have made little or no impression; it was because our principles appeared to be questioned by an elder in Christ, and because he seemed to indulge in a contention which was not likely to be attended with any soul-satisfying results, that we were pained. Seven thousand had not bowed the knee to Baal, when the prophet thought that he alone was left; and though for many years we have taken perhaps as serious a view of the times as Crispin, yet possibly we have more seen the necessity to bear and forbear with our brethren upon points of secondary importance. If we expected every one on whom we hink we see the mark of the Lamb to go down into the depths of our experience, and up into the heights of our occasional enjoyment; if we waited to call only him a brother who waded through the almost habitual depression of which we are constitutionally the subject, or rose to the fulness of expectation which in the prospect of a glorious exit from a world of care, and release from a body of sin and death, we sometimes enjoy-we should seldom meet with a brother. Here must the charity of which the Apostle speaks be exercised. On earth--whatever the Plymouth Brethren may say to the contrary--the household of faith are left to differ on minor points, to prevent undue esteem, and that heaven, with the removal of all differences and dissensions, may be more . ardently desired.

8. Crispin's remarks respecting the "Nonconformists" will apply equally to the High, or Puseyite, Church party. Justice demands this admission, though, for the most part, we stand

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