The “I Will” of Service

Matthew iv. 19

“Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

As God clothed the immortal soul in a body of clay, so Christ clothed immortal truths in homely images and words, condescending to use for His high purpose even the commonest circumstances of daily life. The bread which men handled and ate, was made the medium of teaching high truth about the bread of life; the little children who formed part of their earthly households were made to shadow forth the mind and character of those who should be of the household of God; the hairs upon the head, the fowls in the air, the lilies of the field, all formed simple texts from which He, the great teacher, drew forth most wondrous truths.

And here we find our Lord making use of one of the commonest avocations of daily life in commissioning two of His disciples. He tells them what He will make them, even by reminding them of what they are — fishers of fish shall become fishers of men.

We need have no hesitation in giving this subject a place in the present volume, for the words of our Lord speak not only to Simon and Andrew, but to all who hear and obey (even. as they did) the solemn words ‘Follow Me.’’ Every one that follows Christ is to become a fisher of men; and no man can be a true fisher of men unless he be a follower of Him.

It is the earnest desire of the writer to win, by the Spirit’s influence, some of the readers of this chapter to become fishers of men. Why stand ye here, all the day idle are the words of the blessed Jesus, Himself a toilsome worker; yes, why are not belicAnrs working for their Lord? Why call ye Me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things that I say Why are souls perishing and Christians idling? May this chapter be a net, the meshes of which will catch some at least of its readers; happy indeed will the author of it be, if his Lord should say of it, I will make it a fisher of men.”

Let us classify what Ave would say upon this subject under these three heads:

I. The Appointment

II. The Work

III. The Reward

And now, I. Who is it that appoints the fishers? It is the blessed Lord Jesus Christ; the One of whom it is said in Psalm viii., Thou madest Him to have dominion over the works of Thy hands. Thou hast put all things under his feet, all sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of the field, the fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, and whatsoever passeth through the paths of the seas.”

The One who appoints is the One into whose hands all things are committed of the Father, and it is in His power and wisdom that this fishing is to be carried on.

The Lord’s people are sent to fish by One who knows where each fish is to be found. When the piece of money was wanted, and it was to be supplied through the instrumentality of a fish, that particular fish was brought to the apostle’s hook; this should afford great comfort to the people of God; their Master does not send, them forth on hap-hazard; He knows and appoints with the finest minuteness every item connected with their success. There is no pursuit so uncertain as fishing for fish, none more certain than fishing for men. The word wherewith we fish has this said of it, My word shall not return to Me void.”

He who brought the solitary fish to the apostle’shook was also the One who brought the miraculous draught to the net; at His word the net was let down, and the draught was great. We are commanded to go forth by the very One who has the power of giving us good speed. Special direction will, no doubt, be given in the providence of God, as to where and when we are to fish; but the very fact of our following Christ compels us to become fishers on His behalf How many spheres are open to us for this fishing, we shall presently see.

Let us now turn our attention for a while to the work of the fishers of men.

What is this work? It is the attempt to influence souls for Christ, and to draw them out of the world to Him; the watching all opportunities of drawing the attention of careless men to divine things, and bringing them, in knowledge of their need, to the cross of Christ. What Cecil says of a minister, is in its measure true of all Christians, He is a fisherman, and the fisherman must fit himself to his employment. If some fish will bite only by day, he must fish by day; if others will bite only by moonlight, he must fish for them by moonlight.’’

Now, it has been well remarked, ‘•’* that there is here a relation of the conscious agent to the unconscious subject; the fisherman, vrith all his human intelligence and skill, is represented as coming into contact with the fish in which there is no knowledge; and in divine things, the fisherman for Christ, himself possessed of a knowledge of eternal life, and conscious of it, ’ j represented as using this intelligence and consciousness, in his dealings with poor ignorant souls — alas! how unconscious of everything really spiritual or divine.

This was precisely what our blessed Lord Himself did; He, the conscious One, knowing God’s love, and holiness, and justice, and mercy, applied Himself to men, all unconscious of them in any real practical sense, and drew them to Himself. This was what the apostle did. Knowing therefore the terrors of the Lord, we persuade men this is what every believer is to do; he is to bring his knowledge of the Lord to bear upon the ignorant and deluded world; he must say, We speak that we do know.” We also believe, and therefore speak 2 Cor. iv. 13.

Have you, dear reader, the conscious element in you; do you know the Lord vitally yourself? If so, that very consciousness is a talent; it must not be allowed to lie

“Olshausen on tho Gospels.’’ Yol L, p. 2G2. idle; even if you have no actual gifts, that one of spiritual intelligence is enough; with no more than this many a believer has won souls to Chiist.

But what is to be the scene of our operations for Christ? The fishers are to fish in the sea; they are to launch out into the deep. The ever shifting world, troubled and restless, is to supply the fish for the gospel net. Now there is much in the world to daunt timid disciples of Christ; they shrink from its turmoil, from the storms which they must encounter, and from such a complete going out of self as is involved in a launching out into the deep. Many a one will not venture much for Christ; the very timid Christian will throw in a hook and line from the shore, or even venture out into some little bay or creek, which washes almost his own door, but he will not venture out into the deep. Well! we would just observe in passing, that some of the best fish are caught in deep water; however, far be it from us to think lightly of every one that skirts the shore. No doubt there are shore fish as well as deep-water fish, and happy is he who fishes at all, and catches anything; we are glad if any of our readers have thus commenced, even as it were just at their own door; we pray that in God’s good time they may be encouraged to go forth into the deep. For the encouragement of such, let us give the experience of a city missionary in one of the worst parts of London.

“My experience in mission work is, that its discouragements gradually lessen, while on the other hand its encouragements continually increase. At first a missionary enters on his work with fear — fear, lest the important truths which he wishes to make known should be mocked at and their value lost upon persons engrossed in the every-day duties of life. Probably this is the feeling which induces so many private Christians to seek any outlet for their zeal, rather than that of speaking to neighbors about their souls. Those fears, however, soon wear away, especially if a genuine sympathy for others in their wants and woes is possessed. During the past year my access to the people has greatly increased. I will mention a few of its causes. I have before me a row of sixteen cottages, to only one of which I could gain an entrance on my first round. At my last round, I could make known the gospel at the fireside of each. I believe this has arisen simply from the frequency with which I have passed these houses, in going to other j)arts of the district. Certain it is, that this kind of familiarity, instead of breeding contempt, as the copy has it, rather tends to slacken the cords of enmity with which the hearts of the unconverted are bound. A second source of access, is a gradual good opinion of the missionary among the ieople, as his labors are known, which are told from one to another. I have sometimes been refused admittance at one visit, when on a second visit, some one else being present of those I visit, that person has said such a word in my favor, as to prevent my being again sent away. And then on a third visit, affliction often softens down the j)eople. Lot of beggars going about!’ said one woman of us; but when the frost set in, and she was in the greatest of distress, she was altogether on another key. But, above all, the report throughout a district of real good effected to some of the peo23le, has a wonderful infiuence in helping the missionary with others whom he visits.’’

They who venture little for Jesus, generally get little;

Be it unto thee according to thy faith,” is said many a time now, even as it was in the days of Christ.

The history of the church of God is full of instances of the courage of His servants in launching out into the deep — depths of ignorance, of persecution, of resistance, of vice, and such like, and of their having met with great success in doing so. Let us consider a few examples of this launching forth, and perhaps they will have the blessed effect, of at least encouraging our timid ones, to venture a little farther than they do. Our first example shall be rather a formidable one, but all the more encouraging on that account.

During the revolutionary troubles of the year 1848, a band of robbers had established themselves in the great manufacturing town of Lyons, in the south of France. They were rough fellows, with faces that looked fit only for the gallows, and hearts hard as the street paying of the town. To judge from their appearance, they would think no more of taking away a man’s life than of blowing out a rushlight. But nothing prospers in this world without some sort of government, and these robbers knew it; so they chose one of their number for a captain, and in this case it was the one most accomplished in all kinds of robbery and murder. And then they raised their hands to heaven and swore, that none of them would ever leave or betray the band, and if any should nevertheless break the oath, the rest would pursue and kill him. And now they went forth to plunder and murder, and all the people of the neighborhood, who besides their heads had temporal goods to lose, were full of terror and dismay.

At this time there was assembled in Lyons another band which like these robbers in the forest, sent out their messengers in every direction, and so hunted after all sorts of people. And where these messengers appeared, many a one has trembled. It is true they were not armed like the robbers with pistols, and such murderous weapons, but out of their wallets peeped large and small books; and when the messengers read out of them, it was to many a listener as if a two-edged sword pierced through his soul. For in the books was much written about the Holy God, who brings sinners before His tribunal, and about the Saviour Jesus Christ, who so mercifully takes upon Himself the sins of those who heartily repent and seek forgiveness from Him.

One of the missionaries of this society resolved one day to go into the forest to the robbers; not, indeed, that he might become one of them, but, with the help of God, to put an end to their unrighteous profession. It was truly a dangerous thing to do, and I really begin to tremble when I think how the lawless fellows in the forest yonder will handle the poor man. He might well think about it too; but God had given him a brave heart, so that he didn’t trouble himself about it, further than to say to himself that at most they could only destroy his body, but were not able to kill his soul. ^If I fall,’ he thought, ^I shall go straight to heaven, and there it is far better than in this poor world, especially in France. And would not my life be amply repaid if by the word of God, the soul of one of these robbers should be saved So he filled his wallet with Bibles, and stepped away bravely into the wood. Soon he was lost in the thicket, and, after a few miles, he came upon the outposts of the camp.

Who goes there?’ cried a rough voice, which seemed to pierce our Bible distributor through bone and marrow. Soon several horrible-looking forms came out of the thicket, surrounded the adventurous intruder, and scrutinized him with curious looks. He had, meanwhile, recovered courage to meet their wild scornful faces.

What brings you here, fellow cried the robbers.

I come,” replied he, with a firm voice, to bring you the word of God, and to warn you from the path of ruin, before the judgment of God breaks over you.” wild, fiendish laugh interrupted the address. Ha! ha! ha!” cried the comrades, this is a capital fellow, and a good roast for our captain! There you can finish your sermon. It“s just what he likes, and he “11 reward you for it. Pack up your books: over yonder you “11 do more business! March! On with you!”

With these words they thrust him forward, and brought him to their captain. At the sight of such a body of rufiSans, playing with their muskets as if they were toy guns, the stoutest heart might have quailed; but our man of God stood calm.

‘ What do you want, fellow asked the captain,
haughtily.

H come to bring you the word of God,’ replied the missionary, firmly.

Do you know who we are? Do you know us
he asked again.

Certainl)^, I know you,” was the answer. Won are the wickedest of the wicked, the most daring of sinners. You are the terror of the neighborhood; but the anger of God will burst over you, and destroy you before you think it. He is a righteous God, and will not leave the wicked unpunished.”

“As before, the fearless speaker was now interrupted by a burst of laughter. A flood of sneers and curses was poured on him, but he did not allow himself to be disturbed, and only raised his voice the louder.

“Repent V he cried, even for you there is mercy and forgiveness: even for you is the Saviour, the Son of God, come, if you repent, and be converted. Now is the time. His love has sent me here; the arms of His love are opened to you.” The wild laughter was stilled, but instead of it a low murmur was heard. The wild eyes glared with rage; involuntarily they pointed their muskets at the daring missionary; but a glance from the captain, and he would have paid for his boldness with his life. But the eye of God watched over him, and his courage was undisturbed.

Do you know,” shouted the captain, that your life is in our hands?’

Without God“s permission you can not touch a hair of my head,” replied the missionary, raising his warning and exhorting voice still louder, and distributing his Bibles right and left. By degrees the murmur was hushed. The robbers began even to show respect to the courageous man. Many a heart might have trembled at that moment, but the devil had bound their chains too firmly. They had taken that fearful oath, never to leave the band. It could be broken only by death. Presently the captain exclaimed, take the man away, but do him no harm!” He was obeyed, and with oaths and curses they led him out of the wood; and he, praising God in his heart, made the best of his way back to Lyons.

Now many may think the Bible distributor might have spared himself his troublesome journey, for that robbers will be robbers still. Have patience. The word of God never returns empty, but will accomplish whatever He pleases. But to proceed.

The captain had himself received a New Testament, and, as he was one day strolling through the wood he took the book out of his pocket and read it, to pass away the time. He was astonished at what he saw there, and he read on and on. He had never heard such things before. His conscience was awakened, and the life he had led appeared darker and darker to his mind. He became uneasy. Every day he separated from his comrades, and wandered about the wood. To them such conduct appeared somewhat suspicious, and they began to whisper among themselves. But he became every day more alive to the misery of his sins; the judgment of God was to him fearful, and the love of Christ burned in his hard heart: he could no lono:er belong to the band. But how could he leave it.” Should he run away.^ Noav Ave should not think it wrong, but our captain would not break his oath, even with robbers. For a long time he struggled thus with himself; but at last he assembled the band. They hastened together, in the hope that he was going to lead them out again on some profitable expedition. But they were not a little astonished AAdien the captain addressed them as follows: —

Comrades!’ he cried, hitherto I have been your leader: henceforth I am so no more. This book here has shown me that we are on the way to ruin. A fearful oath hound me to you; hut my resolution is taken. I am in your hands. If you wish to kill me, you can do it; hut never again can I bring myself to lead the cursed life of a rohher!’

In mute astonishment the comrades listened to their leader. A murmur of rage ran through the company, hut soon anger gave place to sympathy. After long consultation, they came to the determination of letting the captain go quietly away. Once more he raised his warning voice to his old companions, reminding them of the wrath of God, whose commandments they had broken, and of the great love of the Redeemer, if they repented, and urged them earnestly to quit with him their life of sin. Soon afterwards the hand broke up. Many of its members followed their captain, and were converted; and the society which first sent their missionary into the wood has received several of them into its office, as companions of its labors.’’

But Ave can find examples amongst ourselves. Of the courage and tact necessary for the missionary’s Avoik, as well as of its influence under the most unlikely circumstances, the night preceding the execution of Mullins may he taken as an example. The public-houses were then thronged till the hour of closing, when the inmates were off in a body to await all night in the open air the solemn scene of the morning. Into a public-house that evening a missionary entered. As he crossed the bar to enter an inner room, the landlord cautioned him not to go in, as it was unsafe. But, in language characteristic

* From the Berlin “Neueste Nachrichten aus dem Reiche Gottes,” December, 1850. of a city missionary the missionary writes: — On hearing thisj in I went.’ In the room he found about sixty men and youths, all their hair dressed in the favorite style with that class, known as the Newgate cut,’ and a number of them smoking short pipes. His entering among them caused great excitement, and the only words which he could hear for some time were such as these, Bonnet him,’ Kick him out,’ and the like, until one man, gifted with a louder voice than the others, shouted to the potman, Here, bring a quartern of Old Tom, and two outs for me and this chap, to drink Mullins’s health with.’ These words were no sooner spoken than the rest rushed to the door to cut off the missionary’s retreat. The missionary, seeing his position, and that they desired to frighten him, advanced quickly to the middle of the room, and, raising his hand to heaven, exclaimed, If a thousand savages were here, I ‘d have my say out, and do you think I ‘m to be cowed by fifty or sixty Englishmen? Why, I have come to tell you of the last dying speech of a friend who was executed.’ This last observation was so appropriate to the state of their minds, that it caused silence, which was generally called for by them in words of their own vocabulary, such as Shut up,’ Muzzle,’ Hold your mug.’ Then the missionary began to tell of the two condemned to death, and of the thousands who poured out of the city to see the well known thieves and murderers die. Then he proceeded to tell of One greater than these, who was suspended between them, while increasing throngs came together to that sight.’ He was permitted to describe the whole scene, and while he told them of the darkened heavens, and the trembling earth, their silence became intense. On his repeating to them the last words of the sufferer, It is finished, their pipes all went on the table, and they gazed in wonder at the tale of the Saviour’s finished work, which was described by the missionary with much fullness. He then called on them, in His name, to repent. No resistance was made, when at length he proceeded to leave; but several of them rose in respect to him as he did so, and two followed him out. One of these was a ticket-of-leave man, and both he and his companion promised the missionary, in the strength of prayer, to separate entirely from their old companions.’’

Another missionary in humble life (Koger Miller), writes: —

In Court there were three men who were the terror of the place. Having repeatedly heard of their determined violence against me, and of their saying that they would kick me out of their house if I should go there when they were at home — a threat which all the neighbors believed they would accomplish — I at once resolved to call upon them; and as they were only at home on Sundays, I arranged to visit their families on one of these days. I accordingly did so. The neighbors, on seeing me enter the first house, were alarmed, and held themselves in readiness to interfere, in the event of violence. The family was at breakfast; I apologized. The man bid me make no apologies, as he had heard of me, and knew that my intention was good. I had a long talk with him, and the result was that he assured me that he should be glad to see me at any time, and he thought he should begin to go to some place of worship.”

Mr. and Mrs. of — — Place were extremely poor and ignorant, and were in their persons, house, and children, uncommonly filthy. When I first called upon them, and told them the business and purpose of my visit, Mr. B., vociferating a stunning oath, bid me begone, and never again trouble him with any of that ere nonsense.’ I left a tract, and said, I will call again at some future day.’ Yes, you do,’ replied he, and I will soon kick you out — that ’s all!’ I however called. He was not at home himself, but I met with his wife, and found her but little better than he. Her children, I saw, were in her way, and occasioned her much vexation; so I invited her to send them to the infant school, representing to her the advantage that would arise out of this, as she would herself get rid of them during the day, and they would learn to read. I offered, if she would wash their hands and faces, to take them with me immediately. I accordingly did take them. This care for her children pleased her much. I continued to visit them, and after some months again met with Mr. B. at home. In the meantime, his children had received considerable instruction, and amongst other things had learned* to sing a number of pretty little hymns, and he himself had been called to task but a few days before, for commencing dinner without saying grace; so instead of hiching out’ his friend, as he had threatened, he received him most respectfully. I don’t know how it is,’ said he, but the children seem to learn a great deal at your school; I should like to come and see them.’ The man was quite subdued and won. He began to attend a place of worship himself, became increasingly regular in doing so, and ended, an anxious inquirer for the best of things.”

Mr. and Mrs. of 25, Street were a somewhat aged couple. They had long lived together strangers to themselves and to God; rarely if ever attending a place of worship and entertaining the most perfect contempt for religion. At first when I called, they would not hear any thing I had to say, hut I continued my visits. They gradually became more and more free and friendly, and at length I was permitted to read and pray with them. Their minds were open to receive my instructions and counsels, and they became hopefully converted to God. The case of this poor man and his wife, at my last visit, appeared truly affecting. Both wept like children, and said with great feeling, ‘ Oh, sir, if you had not come to us as you did, we should still have been living in our sins, and we have often wondered that you should have troubled yourself to come a second time to see us, as we used you so bad when you first called on us. We never go to bed now, nor get up, without yraying for you, as we know that others serve you as we did when you came to us at first.” But, oh! what mercy,” exclaimed the old man, has the Lord bestowed on us, to think that He should send His Son to die for a poor old sinner such as I am.” The yoor old man was soon after visited with an attack of paralysis, which occasioned his confinement to his room. His wife became a member of the Wesleyan Society in Broadwell.“”

The following interesting tradition of the early church will also, doubtless, interest the reader: —

Clemens Alexandrinus in his book, entitled, What rich man can be saved?’) narrates the following: — Listen to a story, or rather to a genuine tradition of the apostle John, which has been faithfully treasured in memory. On his return from Patmos to Ephesus, he visited the neighboring regions, to ordain bishops and organize churches. While he was engaged in exhorting and comforting the brethren in a city near Ephesus, whose name is given by some, he noticed a handsome, spirited young man, toward whom he felt himself drawn so powerfully, that he turned to the bishop of the congregation with the words, I commit him to you, before Christ and the congregation, who are witnesses of ray heart-felt earnestness.’ The bishop received the young man, promised to do all in his power, and John, at parting, repeated the same charge. The elder took the youth home, educated and watched over him, and finally baptized him. After he had given him this seal of the Lord, however, he abated in his solicitude and watchfulness. The young man, too early freed from restraint, fell into bad company. He was first led into lavish habits, and finally drawn on to rob travellers by night. Like a spirited steed that springs from the path, and rushes madly over a precipice, so did his vehement nature hurry him to the abyss of destruction. He renounced all hope in the grace of God; and, as he considered himself involved in the same destiny with his companions, was ready to commit some startling crime. He associated them with himself, organized a band of robbers, put himself at their head, and surpassed them all in cruelty and violence. Some time after, John’s duties again called him to that city; when he had attended to all the other matters, he said to the bishop: Well, bishop, restore the pledge which the Saviour and I entrusted to thee, in the presence of the congregation!’ The bishop at first was alarmed, supposing that John was speaking of money; and charging him with embezzlement. But when John continued, ‘ I demand again that young man and the soul of my brother, the old man sighed heavily, and with tears replied, He is dead Dead?’ said the disciple of the Lord, in what way did he die?’ He is dead to God, responded the old man;

he became godless, and finally a robber. He is no longer in the church, but, with his fellows, holds the fastnesses of the mountain.^ The apostle, when he heard this, with a loud cry, rent his clothing and smote his head, and exclaimed, To what keeper have I committed my brother’s soul!’ He takes a horse and a guide, and hastens to the spot where the band of robbers was to be found. He is seized by their out-guard; he makes no attempt to escape, but cries out, I have come for this very purpose; take me to your captain.’ Their captain, completely armed, is waiting for them to bring him; but recognizing J ohn as he approached, fiees, from a sense of shame. John, nevertheless, forgetting his age, hastens after him with all speed; crying, Why, my child, do you fiee from me — from me — your father, an unarmed old man? have compassion on me, my child; do not be afraid. You yet have a hope of life. I will yet give account to Christ for you. If needs be, I will gladly die for you, as Christ died for us; I will lay down my life for you. Stop! Believe Christ has sent me!’ Hearing these words, he first stands still, and casts his eyes upon the ground. He next throws away his arms; and begins to tremble and weep bitterly. When the old man approaches, he clasps his knees, and with the most vehement agony, pleads for forgiveness; baptizing himself anew, as it were, with his own tears; all this time however he conceals his right hand, but the apostle pledging himself with an appeal to God for the truths that he had obtained forgiveness from the Saviour for him implores him, even on his knees, and the hand he had held back, he kisses, as if it were cleansed again by his penitence. He finally led him back to the church; here, he pleaded with him earnestly, strove with him in fasting, urged him with monitions, until he was able to restore him to the church, an example of sincere repentance and genuine regeneration.’’

We are afraid often to launch out into what might be called the depths of hopelessness, but God has His own ways of bringing even the most unlikely fish to our gospel net.

will now,” says a city missionary, give a few illustrations from the district, and the first instance will show that effects may be produced, even among the most hopeless kind of persons. Among the most uncouth j)ersons I ever met with was a man named, and his wife. Years passed away before any perceptible progress was made, even in the way of access. It required more than ordinary means to subdue this man. It pleased God, therefore, to afflict him very much. Four times did he meet with accidents by the breaking of his limbs, till at length he was disqualified for labor altogether. This gave me more opportunities of meeting with him, and, in the change of circumstances that followed, I had occasion to use my infiuence on his behalf in temporal things. These combined infiuences operated on him; he began to show more interest in spiritual things, and in the reading of the tracts. He was much influenced with the Bar of Iron, and he would not restsatisfled till I had procured him the second part, which he also read with much interest. Ultimately he was induced to attend church, and has done so for some time, although his criyifled state renders it very difficult for him to walk; and he said one day, while I was visiting him, The more I goes the more I likes it.” No persons manifested more sympathy on my leaving the district than these persons. He missed me from calling, and one day I met him in the street, and he asked the cause. I told him it was through illness, and I saw the tears in his eyes; but when I added it was probable I should leave, his countenance quite changed, and for a few minutes he could not speak. At length, with quivering lips, he said, I am so sorry, I am so sorry!” It moved my heart to see this, for it was what I never expected to see. They both pressed me to give them a j)arting visit, which I did. They expressed much sympathy and regret, and showed it by many wishes for my future welfare. I do not say this man is converted, but I give the facts of the change in him as indicating hope, and as a source of encouragement to faithful perseverance.“”

It may be that we shall not succeed in getting out of such depths a sufficiently large draught to break our nets, but even if we get one for Christ — one out of such an unlikely j)lace — one from the midst of such sin, how great the triumph. And we may get one; though it be but one — yet is it one soul.

When the missionary Weitbrecht was at the court of the Eajah of Burdwan, the Rev. Krishna Mohun Banerjea visited that place, and, at the earnest request of the Rajah Mr. W. took him to call on him. He could not believe, without ocular demonstration, that one of the highest class of Brahmins had adopted another religion, and it led to a great deal of interesting discussion on the subject with him and his family, which reminded the missionary of a remark made by the sainted Martyn, that, if ever he lived to see a native Bengali Brahmin converted to God, he would see the nearest approach he had yet witnessed to the resurrection of the dead.’’

Thanks be to God,’’ says Wei tbrecht, ^Hhe day has arrived when such conversions are no longer rare.’’

Thus from most unpromising depths were some fish drawn; our own waters, unpromising though they also be, yield their increase.

But let us see such success at home: —

A city missionary, meeting with a man, a Roman Catholic, the following conversation took place: — Good morning; I hope you are well!’ I am very well in body, but not very happy in mind.’ What is the matter with you I have an old friend of mine, who has been after going to mass with me for many a long year, both in Ireland and in this country, and, sure enough, I would never be thinking as how he would be after becoming a child of the devil.’ What has he been doing? Committing murder or theft?’ No, but something worse than all that, for, sure, mercy would then be in store for him. But some time since I missed him (God help me), and went to his house, and opened the door before he was after hearing me, and he put a book under his bed. I asked him what it was, and, bad luck to him, without fearing the priest at all, he was after saying to me, Oh, indeed, and it is the book of books. and fool that I have been not to read it before.’ And what do you think? — he had the impudence to recommend it to me, — and, sure, I don’t want the curses of the church.’ I asked him if he intended to tell the priest? Indeed I do,’ was his reply; for I am bound to do so when I go to confession.’ Then it is true that you are not allowed to read the Bible?’ Indeed it is, for the Bible is not true; and if it is, it is not for the like of us to be after reading what the priest alone can understand. The Lord have mercy upon me for not saying his Holiness the Pope first;’ and here the poor creature crossed himself, and left me.

An Irishwoman, who opposed me most strenuously, said, I am quite certain we should and ought to be as readily forgiven for the worst of crimes as for harboringheretics. We are cautioned against receiving your tracts on pain of excommunication, and, sure, if I knew any one Roman Catholic who receives those tracts (cursing them), I would go direct to the priest and lay information. The Lord be merciful to us, you fellows are the plague of our lives. You are worse than the parsons, for the like of you get into the people’s houses, and into their good graces. Bad luck to you, you make the people uncomfortable and uneasy. Get along with you; I have no common patience with you. Your day will soon come. I heard Father say so the other night.’ Here the old woman left me, having worked herself up into a perfect frenzy.

So you think we are not right, and that the blessed Virgin has nothing to do with our salvation? I think a precious sight more of the Mother than of the Son, for, sure. He never could have been born but for her. In heaven she asks Him for us, and no prayer can reach Him hut through her; and when we go to purgatory it will he a consolation to know that we have so many good priests begging the Mother to heg the Son soon to purify us.’ I now attempted to refer them to the Word of God, hut was assailed by the other as follows: — Sure, is it the Bihle you refer to — that awful hook of yours? I went into St. Saviour’s Church the other day (that church which you (with an oath) Protestants rohhed us of), on purpose to see Bishop Bonner’s chair and his judgment-seat, and I sent up some Paternosters and Ava Marias, that another Bishop Bonner might he raised up to get rid of that hook of yours, and get rid of every heretic out of the land. We are told by

Father to pray, and we do — yes, all of us pray that may soon come to pass.’

Well, what have you there? I suppose The Irish Schoolmaster” (alluding to the tract hearing that title). Murphy read it the other evening, and, sure, we are all mad against him. Ought not the stone thrown at him and the other at his wife to have settled their business? hut the devil favors them that’s wrong, and then makes them prosper.’ But what did he wrong?’ Sure, and he read the Scriptures, contrary to the rules of the Church and orders of the priest.’ But we are commanded by Christ to search the Scriptures.’ Away with you, you lying heretic; it is not for the like of us, hut the priest only.’ And here he left me; his passion had overcome him. A person to whom I had given the tract had lent it to him.”

But even from such apparently unproductive depths as these, something was to he had.

This is a most remarkable instance of the power of truth when accompanied by the Spirit of God. Mr. an Irishman living at No. — Place. I found him deplorably ignorant, and I had difficulty in making him understand the most simple language. All he could do was to repeat a few Ava Marias. He had never had a copy of the Word of God, but after a few visits he consented to accept one, and he had it read to him, and the Spirit of the Lord applied its truths to his heart, and the most pleasing of all inquiries was heard, What must I do to be saved He became a Christian, left the Romish Church, and attended where he could hear Christ and Him crucified preach. Affliction overtook him, and, being in adverse circumstances, he was obliged to go to the workhouse. He recovered, but kept in the house. He was permitted to have a holiday. I called to see him, and was rejoiced to find him in such a happy frame of mind. He said, I am happy. Oh, what a treasure Christ is. Strange that I should have been ignorant of Him for so many years, and what wonderful love His must be to have mercy upon one who for seventy years had no love for Him!’ Are you happy in the house?’ Wes, with one exception. There are so many wicked characters, and their bad language grieves my very soul; however, I do what I can to show them their error, but they say I am too quiet a man; but, poor things! they don’t understand why I am different.^ God’s grace has done it.’ Well, sir, I can’t do much by argument, but I hope what few days I have to remain on earth, to live to Christ. And do seek out those poor creatures who are deluded like I was. I know the difficulties you have to contend with, and the enmity there is in the hearts of all Catholics against the Bible, and the simple truths of the gospel. They are taught it. I know I was. Well, here am I, a sinner plucked out of their clutches, and out of the clutches of the devil, thanks be to God and to you.’ A few weeks elapsed, the old man was taken suddenly ill, and soon expired. His last words were, Unto Him that loved me and washed me, &c., &c., be glory for ever and ever.’”

Oh! that we all had that holy venturesomeness for Christ, a spirit within us ever thrusting us forth into the deeps; thence should we draw some souls at least for Christ; thence should we win great honor and profit for ourselves; for that which we catch for Christ, we catch also for ourselves; Christ’s glory is His people’s gain.

Be encouraged, dear reader, by what you have already perused of the work of the Lord in the depths; perhaps some once hardened creature’s eyes, albeit long unused to tears, are destined to fill and overflow with afiection to you; perhaps some now tightly compressed lips are destined to quiver, when you announce that your work is done, and that you are coming to visit the garret, or the cottage, no more again. Oh! these are but little things compared with pleasing J esus, and winning fresh glory for Him, and rescuing souls from eternal woe; but still they touch the sensibilities of the heart, and surely the vibrating chords sound forth, Launch out into the deep” — fear not the storms — the height above is greater than the depths beneath; Jesus Himself has been out upon those very waters long before any of us; there rises not a billow over which he has not ridden; there sinks not a hollow into which He has not descended, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men!”

Now let US consider 507ne of the characteristics of this fishing ivorh and this consideration will embrace in it some of the requirements of the fishermen. One great requirement is faith expectation yea, even belief that we shail assuredly catch fish. Whatever may have been our miscarriages and failures in ourselves, we also must be ready with our “Nevertheless “Nevertheless at thy word I will let down the net.’’ The full belief that we shall catch fish will often energize us to go forth, when if we had not this inducement we might be inclined to stay at home. If it be well known that the fish are going, the fisherman will always turn out; the fish of the fishers of men are always going; they might be almost said to be swimming even around our very doors. Hope cheers the fisherman almost more than the man of any other calling in life; he is always hoping to get a haul of fish; if he be fishing with a net, he does not know the moment when he will meet with a shoal of fish; if with a hook, he cannot tell how soon he will feel the jerking of his line. There may be, there no doubt is uncertainty, but that very uncertainty keeps the fisherman’s heart from despair. But the hope of the fishers of fish, must turn into faith in the fishers of men, we must make sure that we shall catch. And we must not allow ourselves to doubt of success because we can see nothing; we may die in the very act of hauling the net; we may never see its living freight brought to the surface of the water, but other hands will bring in the fish, and God will not forget that we hauled the net. If they who tarried by the stuff*, [1 Sam. xxx. 24,] had their share of the spoil as well as they who went forth to the battle; and if while one soweth and another reapeth. both sower and reaper rejoice together surely he who hauled at the net shall not be forgotten because others bring in the fish. It may be our part only to let down the net; or to give a long, strong pull, and die at the rope, seeing nothing; but when the fish are brought to land, our share of the profit shall not be held back; the great master of this superhuman craft will apportion to every man his reward, and accurately mark out the part which he has had in bringing about the great result.

There is no doubt that discouragements will meet us in our work; these discouragements are in themselves very provoking, and often arise from sources whence we should never have looked for them; but we must remember that the Great Fisher of men took experience of them, and wrought through them, and He shall see of the travail of His soul, and be satisfied; and so shall we.

The history of the Lord’s servants is full of discouragements, and thanks be to God, of their triumphs also over them. Let us look at a few instances; when we see how others have been tried, we shall be the less downhearted and discouraged, if we be tried ourselves.

In one of his summer excursions, Eomaine was invited to preach at Bootle, in Cumberland. On ascending the pulpit stair, he found the door would not open. The churchwarden observing him pull hard, but in vain, immediately suspected that a blacksmith in the parish, who was a great enemy to the gospel, had played them a trick; and quietly asking the clerk to sing a long psalm, ran away to get pincers and hammer to open the pulpit door. This was done, and Mr. Eomaine preached to the great edification of the people.

At St. Dunstan’s, the rector refused the pulpit to Mr. Eomaine, though appointed lecturer and seized it while the prayers were being read in order to prevent his occupying it. When the rector was compelled to give him the pulpit, he appointed the lecture at an inconveniently late hour, and the church doors were shut against the congregation till the last moment. The consequence was, that hundreds, perhaps thousands, crowded around the walls, and rushed in like a torrent the moment the doors were opened. The Bishop of London (Dr. Terrick), who had known Komaine at Oxford, and honored his learning and abilities, happened to be passing by Saint Dunstan’s church before the service began, and observing the immense crowds, and the church doors shut, inquired the cause of such an assembly. On being informed, he required the churchwardens to see that the church doors should be opened at a proper time, and the decture be permitted to commence at an earlier hour.

Hannah More experienced like trouble, and on one occasion, the assaults of the enemy were met in rather a ridiculous way.

Of a certain place at which they were endeavoring to establish a school, Hannah More writes: — Last Sunday, Drewitt preached an hour; after he had finished, the clerk got up and said, The parish are desired to meet next Friday, to consult on the best means of opposing the ladies, who are coming to set up a school.’ Bold Drewitt, nothing dismayed, stood up instantly in the pulpit, and said, ‘And on Sunday next, the parish are desired to meet the ladies who intend opening the school, at nine o’clock!’”

Scott, the commentator, was driven almost to despair:

had,’’ said he, at this time many instructors as to my style of preaching; and some of the directors assumed rather a high tone of authority, while others were disposed to counsel me as the messengers of Ahah did Micaiah. But I disposed of the dictating instruction very shortly, saying, Gentlemen, you possess authority sufficient to change me for another preacher, whenever you please; hut you have no power to change me into another preacher. If you do not convince my understanding that I am in error, you cannot induce me to alter my style of preaching.’ The vexations, however, which I continually experienced often overcame for a period my patience and fortitude. On one occasion they led me to say to my wife, Whatever he the consequence, I will quit this situation, for I shall never have any peace in it.’ But she promptly answered, Take heed what you do; for if you leale your station in this spirit, you will, perhaps, soon he with Jonah in the whale’s helly.’ The check was seasonable, and procured my acquiescence.”

None ever met with such discouragements as our blessed Lord Himself; hut He toiled on, remembering that He came to do His Father’s will, whatever aspect human affairs might wear. It is enough for the disciple that he he as his Master,” and it will sweeten our lot, if we think that we are sharers of it with Him.

Another characteristic of this fishing work is labor. It is laborious work. And this idea of labor is very strongly brought before us in Matt. ix. 37, 38, where our Lord says to His disciples, The harvest truly is plenteous but the laborers are few; pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that He will send forth laborers into His harvest.”’ The idea here, as also that in the similitude of the fisherman, is one of toil.

Now this labor embraces going to look for the fish, as well as hauling the net; and, in truth, very little is done without going to look for souls; they seldom swim into our net, rather do God’s toiling servants draw the net round them, and, perhaps, after a long and laborious haul, bring them to the shore. It is needful to go out into the highways and hedges and compel them to come in. And God seems to bless all the aggressions of His church upon the world; aggression is often the best defence; if the gospel were more used for purposes of assault upon the powers of evil in the world, it would be assaulted far less than it is. Its supineness invites attack. The Christian should be found with the sword of the spirit, as well as with the shield of faith.

And very wonderfully does God seem to bless the labors of fishers in the present day, who launch out into the deep, and let down their nets for a draught. There is many a one who was never bred to the sea, but who can yet lend a hand to haul a net; and a vast blessing seems to rest upon the labors of many such in the great spiritual fishing of the present day. There is not a single new agency upon which the blessing of God has not manifestly rested, and every one of these agencies are aggressive. The Irish Church Mission” is aggressive, and draws its broad net through the teeming multitudes of our Romish neighbors; the Midnight Mission” is aggressive, and warily pilots its craft through shoals and quicksands; the Bible Women” are aggressors and navigate the intricate windings and turnings of St. Griles”, and other localities less known, but equally in need; and so we might catalogue the names of aggressors of this kind until we showed how goodly a fleet had put to sea. All these are out after the fish, and verily they have met with goodly shoals.

Let us take one instance of the success of this launching out into the deep, we are indebted to the

London City Mission Magazine’” for it; to no better source could we go for instances of success in this class of work: —

The opening of the Standard Theatre for a second series of special religious services, has been a great blessing to this neigfiborhood, doing much towards turning this fountain of evil into a positive good; and being situate in the very centre of the district, I felt that when the committee asked me again to undertake the management of this important effort, it was my duty to accept the invitation, although doing so involved a considerable amount of mental and physical labor.

“How God smiled upon that effort is well known. The people were glad to find a place of worship where rags might find admission; where all seats are free, and the poorest made to feel he was heartily welcome. An average attendance of 2,000 persons has been obtained, of the very class who usually shun the house of prayer, and pass the Sabbath hours in vain attempts to find pleasure in worldly occupations. This large number of persons always maintain the most perfect order and decorum. The police in attendance have never been required to interfere in any single instance; the entire work of keeping order, distributing copies of the hymns, etc., being carried out by a body of twenty working men, selected from the congregation itself, under the superintendence of myself and a brother missionary.

In the course of my daily visitations many of these persons were met with, and many proofs given that they had not heard in vain.

One man said, I see’d you at the Standard on Sunday. I say, didn’t that parson walk into me pretty tidy about swearing, eh?’ I replied, Well, I hope you have left otf that sinful habit.’ Ah!’ said he, that ain’t so easy to do, guv’ner; but I tell yer what, I don’t say one bad word now where I used to say ten.’

A poor woman said, Oh! sir, my home has been a happy place on Sunday; for my husband goes to hear the preaching, and always comes home sober. I go as often as I can, and we send our children to Sunday school.’

The man now acts as one of the stewards at the Theatre, and attends my meeting as often as his work will permit. His wife has recently passed through a severe illness, during which I visited her constantly, and am encouraged to hope that both will ultimately be led to decision.

Another person remarked, am so glad you have got my son to come to the Theatre. He was brought up in a Sunday school, and led to a place of worship; but he went wild,’ and made me very unhappy; but now, he is quite steady again, and I hope he will be a comfort in my old age.’

Observing among the congregation two young women, who came regularly every Sunday, I had some conversation with them, and invited them to my meeting. After coming a few times, they brought father, mother, and a friend with them, who for many weeks were attentive listeners to my instruction. They now attend a regular place of worship on the Sunday, and manifest an earnest, inquiring spirit. The father has since been severely afflicted, and appears to be drawing near to death. I find his mind directed to the true source of consolation, and am led to believe that he is truly converted to God.

Another interesting case is that of a lame beggar man, who attended the special services, and also my weekly meeting for a considerable time. He wore no hat, coat, or waistcoat, but was always very clean, and remarkably attentive to the service. He told me, that he had often longed to enter places of worship, but was not able to do so on account of his wretched appearance; that he feared to come into the Theatre, until one of the stewards invited him; but he was so pleased with what he heard, that he stayed in London all the summer in order to attend the services. At his earnest request I supplied him with a Bible, which he kept carefully covered, and brought under his arm every Sunday; and some friends who have met him in the street, tell me that the Bible and tracts which I have given him are always found in the bottom of the box which contains his matches, laces, etc., for sale. The result of their conversation with him confirms my own opinion, that he has been brought to believe in the Lord J esus. Having no settled home, he was compelled to endure much persecution in the lodging-houses where he slept. I suppose he has now gone on tramp,’ as I have not seen him for some time.

These are a few of the most prominent cases; but, in many other instances, it was found that persons who neglected j)ublic worship for many years have acquired the habit of going regularly to the Theatre services every Sunday evening.

Kecently a prayer meeting has been held after the sermon, to which from 600 to 800 persons have usually remained, greatly interested in such an unusual and solemn service.

A man, more than fifty years of age, came to me at the close of the prayer meeting, a week or two since, saying that he had never been at a prayer meeting before in all his life; and that what he had heard had so impressed his mind, that he felt most anxious to become a Christian. While he spoke, the tears ran down his cheeks as he said, in a tremulous voice, I want to know how I can find Jesus.’ He is now an attendant at the district church where he resides, and also comes to my weekly meeting. I trust that, in the prayerful use of these means of grace, the way of life and peace will be made plain to him.”

A goodly sight, we deem it, to see the houses of God which are sown broadcast over the land; we love to see the church’s stalwart tower with buttress and battlement, as though garrison were kept for God in an enemy’s land; we love to see the church’s tapering spire, shooting upwards to the skies, vanishing in airy lightness to a glittering point, as though it would show to man, how all of earth grows less and less the nearer we approach to heaven; but we have a sentiment above that sentimentality; the deep sentiment of the pricelessness of an immortal soul; and we believe that he who offers the water of life to perishing men in a wooden bowl or even as it were only in the hollow of his hand, does better than he who says, if thou wilt not drink from a consecrated chalice, then perish in thy drought, thou shalt not drink at all!’

In this fishing for men, we must expect to have tossings to and fro, and it may be, even to soil our hands — there are entries which are full narrow for fashionable skirts. But is it reasonable that this, which is labor, should be made an exception to all other labor and is it reasonable that what men and women so cheerfully accord to the toil of pleasure, they should be loath to accord to the toil of earnest work?

Excuse me, madam, but what is all that mess?”

I have taken to photography.’”

Dear me! you have quite stained your fingers.”

Oh! one can’t help that in photography.”
And dear me! what a disagreeable smell.”
Oh! ‘t is nothing when you ‘re used to it.”

And what a troublesome process it seems to be.”

Oh! we can’t do anything in this world without trouble.”

No, dear madam, no — and with not a whit more trouble, mess, or smell, we could show you how to make photographs (sun pictures) — the picture of the blessed Jesus, taken and printed in light upon many a soul that is now perishing for lack of knowledge.”

And thus we might go on, through all the toil of life’s amusements and pursuits, and ask, alas! only too many, Does not what you undergo in earth’s toil and pleasure, (if you be doing nothing for your Lord,) shame you in the excuses which you make for declining all toil for heaven?’ When Louis Marie, the Montreal colporteur, was subjected to very ignominious treatment, he never complained. One evening when he returned home, he was asked what kind of day he had had? He replied, with a face full of quiet Christian joy, that he had had a very good day, having only been kicked twice.’ Alas! how many are there who would not consider it a good day, if they had to pass an unswept crossing, or to whiff an unsavory smell. Many of our fears are imaginary; they are rderely bug-bears raised up by the enchantments of the devil; they vanish on a near approach; we may have a very little to endure after all; but at any rate, we do not know what we can endure until we try. Take courage, dear reader; in a tossing boat you may catch much fish; and all the while you yourself be safe.

Do not be afraid of venturing upon a few visits for the Lord. There was in a certain minister’s district a public house, in which neither the landlord nor his wife were professors of religion. It was quite a resort for the thoughtless and profane, and he dreaded visiting the place, but conceiving it to be his duty, he nerved himself up to the task. He was respectfully received and invited into the sitting room, where he found the tavern keeper and his wife alone. He conversed with, or rather talked to them about the interests of their immortal souls, endeavored to show them the responsibility of their station, and urged them to give immediate attention to the things which belonged to their peace; but could get no other answer than a promise from the landlord that he would think of it. He left the house with a heavy heart, feeling that he had done them no good.

They soon left the place, and the minister knew nothing of them until ten years after his visit, when he received a very kind note from the man, informing him that the conversation which seemed to be so little regarded, had resulted in the conversion of both himself and wife.

But in this work we must make up our minds to exercise ‘patience and perseverance. These are qualities pre-eminently required in natural fishing, and in spiritual fishing too. We shall accomplish very little by mere dabbling as it were, with our hands over the side of the boat.***’ The fish may be near at hand, swimming all about, and looking on with amazement at this strange phenomenon, but they will not be so captivated by it as to come near and be caught. He who would fish successfully, must fish in earnest. Now see how patient and persevering a fisher of souls was with one poor creature, and how successful in the end, and may this account cheer us on, when like fish come to our net.

“It was on the 18th of May, 1848, that I commenced my labors in the district, and on that day I called at No. —, — — row, which was occupied by a family of the name of, and was informed by a little girl that her mother was not at home. But I soon became well acquainted with this family. The husband held a situ-We read that the Rev. Charles Simeon kept the picture of Henry Martyn in his study. Move where he would through the apartment, it seemed to keep its eyes upon him, and ever to say to him, Be earnest he earnest; donH trifle donH trifle; and the good Simeon would gently bow to the speaking picture, and with a smile reply, I will he in earnest; I will, I will he in earnest; I will not trifle, for souls are perishing, and Jesus is to be glorified.” ation under the Custom House, and the wife, who was a stay and corset maker, I found was an inveterate drunkard, and the dread of the neighborhood. The babe at her breast (with the rest of the children) was deserted night and day by her, while she would be out getting drunk, and sometimes she would strip herself of all but two articles of dress for drink. Then the husband would shut her out, would not allow her to enter his house, and would declare that she should never darken his door any more. At these seasons she went about without stockings or shoes, and being tall she had rather a masculine appearance, with a loud sonorous voice. She would be seen going through the streets, followed by scores and sometimes hundreds of children, and, making a stand here and there, she would make an oration. Then the rude boys would be calling out Polly Long Stockings,’ and behave in the most indecent manner. In the neighborhood of Spitalfields, Whitechapel, Hoxton, and Kingsland, she was well known by the lowest of characters, as well as where she lived, and with the respectable, she was the dread of the neighborhood. She would thieve, commit adultery, or do anything for strong drink. The police stood aloof from her, and dreaded to have anything to do with her; but sometimes they were compelled to lock her up and imprison her. I often visited y warned exhorted and counselled her and she would express a desire to amend. Sometimes, when her husband had turned her out, she came to me and promised fairly, and I have gone and reasoned with him, and asked him to try her once more. He was a boisterous man, and sometimes I have been fearful that he would knock me down, when I have called on him respecting his receiving her home again and he has said; Ah the rascal! don’t mention her to me any more; she’s a disgrace to me. If I leave a penny, to buy a little milk for the baby, she’ll spend it in the cursed drink. I’ll have no more of her!’ Early in the morning of the last day of 1848, having been shut out for a long time, she called on me, and begged that I would go and see her husband, and ask him to allow her to come home, promising never any more to have anything to do with intoxicating liquors. I told her that it was useless, for he had said to me that while he had an arm to his body, she should never live with him again. Three times that day she called on me, making the same request. At last, taking the delicate condition in which she was into consideration, I said, I will call on him once more, but I expect that he will knock me down.’ I went, telling her to be close to the house, so that if I did succeed, I might introduce her. I got him to consent to her request, and ste23ped out and called her in. I said, Mrs., this is your husband. Sit down and tell him what you have said to me.’ She did so. I read Ephesians v. The husband and wife kneeled with me in prayer, and the scene was most affecting. Rising from his knees, he wiped the tears from his face, and said, May God grant

it!’ But six weeks had not quite elapsed, when three days after her confinement, she broke out again, and became, if possible, worse than she had been before. But, passing over nearly seven years of her life, (with the exception of thirteen months, during which she kept sober, and got a good business together in the stay and corset making,) she went on in this dissipated career, in and out of prison and the union, a walking pest to society, and a corrupter of morals. In November, 1855, she came to my house in a fearful plight, and asked me to try her once more. I said, W ell, Mrs., my

Master received the outcast, and I must do the same.” I read and prayed with her, and promised to see what I could do for her. The next day she called again, and signed the pledge of total abstinence from all intoxicants. I asked a poor man, eminent for piety, to take her in, as he had a room to spare; both he and his wife consented, and I arranged to pay them Is. 6d. per week rent. Friends to whom her case was known supplied her with work, and I got her husband to pay her rent, unknown to her. She now went on well. Sometimes she received a friendly visit from her husband, and on the 24th of December that year she was welcomed home again by him. All proceeded well till May, 1856, when she broke out once more. She had tasted the insidious drink, and, in a few days, all her clothes, and everything she could lay hand on, was sacrificed at the shrine of Bacchus. Her husband had now become a witness to her unfaithfulness to him, and she was not allowed to enter under his roof. A gentleman who lived near them, and was continually being annoyed by her brawling, being a guardian of Hackney Union, got her admitted into that institution. As she had forfeited all claim on her husband, she was passed to her native parish, at Doncaster. She remained in that union” but a short period, and, at leaving it, she went to Liverpool to reside with a relative. While there she sent me a letter, and entreated me to watch over her children, and to tell them that she still had a mother”s love. They had removed off my district to Cambridge Heath; and I went, in compliance with her request and saw her children, but not one of them seemed to have the least regard for her. I heard no more of her till the autumn of 1858, when she had managed to walk from Manchester to Homerton, dressed in a short dark skirt, a man’s jacket, a bonnet, and a pair of Yorkshire wooden clogs. When she started from Manchester she was penniless, and she commenced to beg. Six different persons gave her a halfpenny each, and she bought three penny worth of matches and began trading. She sold them, and bought some bread, and a fresh stock in trade. Thus she managed to get to the metropolis once more; and, having done so, she took to selling stay laces, and, in the course of her daily rounds, Hackney claimed her attention. Many who knew her, pitied her, and out of compassion bought of her. At night she lodged in some of the low lodging houses, paying 3(i. per night for shelter. When sober she was highly gifted, clean, and industrious, and none of her companions in vice would dare to visit her. She was a good manager, and understood the science of domestic economy; and now, having kept sober a few weeks, she gained a little more sympathy from those who had long known her in Homerton, and she felt that she was not entirely forsaken. A Christian woman offered to lend her a bed, and she took a room for herself, went out charing occasionally, and, by this means, she managed to get a few things to make a decent appearance once more; she came to me and signed the pledge, and attended my meetings, and, subsequently, public worship. After a few months she made herself look quite respectable, and there were grounds to hope well of her. She attended the ministry of the Rev. J. Davies, and manifested a growing interest in the things of God. About this time she felt that she had gained a little standing in society; she had worked hard, and fared harder still, till she had got a room nicely furnished by her own industry. The gospel so faithfully preached by her minister had reached her heart with power, and she felt an increasing desire to do something for the good of her fellow creatures. She came to my temperance meeting one evening, asked permission to address the meeting, and we arranged

for her to do so the next Monday evening. It having been announced that Mrs. was going to speak next Monday evening,’ when the time came the room was crowded, and while she portrayed the evils of drunkenness, and what she had undergone herself, many a hard heart was touched, and their eyes melted to tears. A second address was delivered wdth the same effect, on which occasion she brought a large colored engraving of our Lord and the Twelve Disciples at the Last Supper,’ and showed it to the audience, telling them that such pictures were preferable to her than any of the publican’s stuff which they sold to ruin men’s souls and bodies.’ The desire she had now to do good, was as great as it was before to do evil. Humbled under a sense of her crimes and guilt, she now was enabled to look unto the Lord for strength to support her. Her struggles for a subsistence were great; sometimes her fare was a little bread, weak coffee, and a red herring, which she sometimes cut in two, three, or four pieces, each to serve a day, according as the case might be with her finances, till she had got her things around her comfortable. She kept away from her husband and family, but felt desirous to do them good; and, having obtained some tracts, she went to the docks, where her husband was on duty. She distributed them, and gave one to an officer, saying, Will you be kind enough to give this tract to Mr. mentioning her husband’s name. She then put her veil up over her bonnet, and passed by her husband without speaking. Shortly after this, she met him at Victoria Park, and walked out of it side by side with him, silent. At another time she met him as she was leaving the street in which she lived; they both smiled at each other, and he asked her where she lived. After this he visited her frequently.

called on her one morning, and found her ill in bed, when she showed me two new hymn-books which she had received as a present from her minister. She said, I very much prize them.’ She spoke of her past life, of the great change which she by the grace of God had experienced, and of her hope in Christ alone for salvation. Subsequently her children were reconciled to her, and at the request of my dear wife they visited her. The eldest son, who, after the example of his father, had often bruised her flesh by his blows, and had enlisted in the army, was glad to receive shelter from her for himself and his child, and found he had a friend and a faithful adviser in his once degraded and maltreated mother. It was early one morning in March, 1860, that she called to inform me that her husband was taken very ill, and she was anxious for me to visit him, as he would not allow any one else to visit him. I went and saw him,’ and read a portion of the Word of God to him, warned and exhorted him to repent of his sins, and seek the Lord Jesus Christ as his Saviour. He was glad of my visit, and sent for his wife to come to nurse him during his affliction. She complied with the request; and now a scene, which angels must have beheld with delight, was transacted in that abode. The wife of his early fondness had returned, — humble, penitent, and a new creature. The husband, still impenitent, allowed her to take the precious Word of God in her hands to read to him, and was glad to see and hear her at his bedside, on her knees, pouring forth ardent petitions to Almighty God in his behalf. His eyes being opened, he saw the fact that his wife, after all her faults, was a changed woman, and had, by the grace of God, been preserved to him to comfort him in his last days. He told his children to take her advice now, for it would do them good. He recovered from his illness, and occasionally went with her to the house of God. She gave proof of the stability of her character, and saw the minister respecting her being admitted into communion with the people of God. But that step was not hastened. It was thought advisable that she should be long tested, ere that privilege should be afforded her. Her walk was steady and consistent; many highly respectable ladies who knew her, took a very lively interest in her, and with wonder they beheld the power of divine grace in her soul. She warned and exhorted others of the evils of sin, and made reference to herself as an instance of what the grace of God could do, saying, God has done it.’ But, as with the lovely flower, which is easily nipt by the wind’s untimely blast, so was it with her spiritual career on this earth.

I heard of her being taken ill, and called to see her.

I found that she had been ill a fortnight, and that her husband, who, a week after she was taken ill, was fondling over her had been taken ill of the virulent fever and erysipelas and had died on the evening before I got there, and was in his coffin. She had been unconscious during the whole of the time, did not know even of his having been ill, and was still insensible. Two days after, she died, and on Sunday, October 21, they were both buried together at Victoria-park Cemetery. So that, instead of her joining in holy fellowship with the Church militant on earth, she speedily was taken to join the Church triumphant in heaven, and the plant of the Lord’s own planting was removed to bloom in the paradise of God. On the day of their burial, I made known in the district that I was going to speak on their solemn deaths, and the meeting-room was crowded. There were some of the most hardened sinners in the district present, who appeared to be impressed by what I said to them from the Word of God. May the Lord in mercy grant that many souls like hers may be saved in like manner, who may be our crown of rejoicing at the great day of account.”

Or take the case of the old woman who kept a stall in Shoreditch; in one little alley she had lived for fourteen years, and she was a well-known character in that neighborhood for levity and irreligion. In writing of her, the missionary who visited her, says: —

The heathenish state of her mind was most painful to witness. A Christian lady observed to me some time ago: — I was asking myself the other day, can it be possible that such a creature really has a soul?’ Yes, it was true! — within a casket so begrimed, so repulsive and uncouth, there was a precious gem, which the Holy Spirit could bring to light, a heart which the love of Jesus could warm and expand! Many a time, when invited to the meeting, she has said, Oh yes, I mean to give yer a turn some day and, when hope was almost extinguished, she came at last to redeem her promise. She was pleased with what she heard; for, when leaving, she said, as she dropped a curtsey, I shall come agin, cause I understands what you say.’ Accordingly, she has continued to come; frequently bringing a companion with her. I do not think she has been once absent since her first coming; and the same lady remarked to me the great alteration in her behavior, saying, I’m very glad comes to the meeting; she tells me about what you say; and I really think that the Word has taken root, and light is breaking in upon her dark mind.’ She now goes regularly to church on Sunday, and has induced three other poor persons to accompany her, both to the church and to the meetingroom.”

There are some souls which are to be eventually won only by patience, labor, and perseverance; they are slow in listening, and then slow in acting; and it may be, that even when they do act, it is with indecision and irregularity, and many slips and backslidings, before they come fairly out for Christ; but just as the fisherman does not cease to haul at the net, because the fish plunge in its toils; so the one who fishes for men must not cease to work, because he has to deal with some one who gives him trouble; it is often found that the heaviest fish to secure are the most valuable when they are brought to land.

Let us but attach real value to the fish; let us but have design and unity of purpose as regards catching theiH;, and we may all of us do great things for God. If we esteem souls as of great price, we shall he earnest in our efforts to catch them; and God will supply us with opportunities enough. We need not go out of our way to seek them; they will ever keep presenting themselves to us day by day; he will be found to have lived a glorious life indeed, who has availed himself of every opportunity which presented itself of winning souls.

Dr. Spencer, in his Pastoral Sketches” gives us an instance of success in fishing, the result, with God’s blessing, of ‘perseverance.

The young man of whom he tells, belonged to a pious family; his parents and several of his brothers were members of the church; he was a moral, staid, industrious, intelligent young man, always attending church, and was a teacher in the sabbath school. I had not supposed that his feelings of opposition to religion had ever assumed the strong character which he described to me now; and I had never known the means of their alteration. I happened to ask him: —

Mr. H, what was it that first called your attention definitely to religion, when you began to make it a matter of your personal concern?’

I found there was no escape, I could not get away from it.’

What do you mean, when you say, there was no
escape?’

“Why, the subject met me everywhere. Wherever I went, there was something to make me think of it.’

Yes,’ said I, there are things to bring it to mind, all around us and always, if we would heed them. God has filled this world with things suggestive of Himself.’

Oh sir, said he, I dont mean that at all. It is true, that now almost everything makes me think of God and my duty; but I mean things that were done 071 purpose to catch me. It seemed to me that I was pursued everywhere. There was no getting away. If I went to church on Sunday, you never let us off with a descriptive or literary sermon, like a college professor; you always had something about faith, or repentance, or depravity, or the duty of sinners to fly to Christ. If I went to my store on a week day, thinking I should escape there, because I had something else to attend to, my partner would have something to say to me about religion, or something to say in my presence which I knew was meant for me. If I met you in the street, you were sure not to let me pass without bringing up that subject in some way or other. If I went home to dinner or tea, religion would be talked of at the table. If I was spending any part of the evening in the family after I left the store, it was the same thing again: religion, religion would come up; every one had something to say which made me think of religion. If I went oif to bed (as I did many a time to get out of the hearing of it), my sister had put a tract under my pillow. I could not bear all this. I often avoided everybody, and went to my room, where I could be alone, and think of what I please; and there the first thing to meet me would be some religious book, which my mother or some one else had put in the place most likely to attract my attention; and ]3erhaps left it open at some passage marked on purpose for me. After several of my young associates had become Christians, and began to talk about religion, I avoided them, and sought other company, and pretty soon they began to talk religion too! I was provoked at it V

Did these people who endeavored to influence you, treat you rudely or impolitely?’

Oh, no! that was the worst of it, I hoped they would. If they had been meddlesome and impudent, I should have had something to And fault with, and should have told them to mind their own business, and keep their religion to themselves. I should have said, that religion makes men ungentlemanly and unfit for society; and so should have excused myself. But there was none of that. There was little said to me. All that was done, was only calculated to make me think for myself, and of myself; and so I could not complain. But religion came up before me on all sides; whichever way I turned, morning, noon, and night, it was there. I could not escape it.”

Did you have a strong desire to escape it

Yes, I had. I turned every way. I avoided Christians. One Sunday I stayed away from church; but that contrivance worked the other luay for I could think of nothing but religion all the morning, and so in the afternoon I went to church, to see if I couldn“t forget it there. When I came home I went into an unoccupied room, because they began to talk about the sermon in the parlor; and the first thing that met me was the Bible, laid open at the 2nd chapter of Proverbs, and a pencil-mark drawn round the first six verses. This is some of mothePs work,” said I. Finally, I resolved to sell out my store, and get away into some place where I should not be tormented about religion any longer. I began to make arrangements for selling out.”

‘ Well; sir, what altered your mind

Why, just as I was in this trouble to get away from religion, resolving not to live any longer in such a place as this; I began to think what I was after, why I desired to get away. And then I soon found out it was because I desired to get away from the truth, and away from God. That alarmed me, and shamed me. I thought, then, that if there was no escape from men here, there could be no escape from God any where. And though it cost my pride a hard struggle, I made up my mind that I was all wrong, and I would attend to my salvation. Then I began; but I don’t think I ever should have begun, if I had not been hunted in every place where I tried to escape.’

Did you have any more temptation to neglect religion after that T

No, I immediately took my stand. I went among the inquirers openly. Then I was disappointed to find how little I cared any longer for the world, for what people would say, and all such things, as I used to think would be great trials to me. And I believe now there is very much gained by getting a sinner to commit himself on this matter. Then he will not wish to get off.’

‘ What way do you think is most likely to succeed for inducing any one to commit himself, to attend to his religion

Oh, I cannot answer that. Any way is good, I suppose, which will lead people to think. Judging from my own experience, I should suppose that no irreligious person in the world could put off religion any longer, if his way was hedged up as mine was, so that he could not avoid thinking of the subject.’

Such was a part of my conversation with him. He united with the church; and I have some reason to suppose that since that time he has aimed to lead people to think, in such a manner that there could be no escape.’”

And now we turn to the appliances of the work the nets and hooks wherewith we must go forth as fishers of men. These appliances lie ready to the hand of every one who is willing to go forth and fish for men; none need stand idle for the want of means wherewith to work. Tracts sermons conversations giving and lending good books, rightly spending money for the Lord; these are some out of the many appliances which are at hand for whosoever will fish for men.

Many a soul has been won for God in ordinary conversation, how many in deliberate conversation upon divine things! Whoever has a tongue, has a net either for good or evil; for winning souls for heaven, or for seducing them into hell. The human tongue has in all probability swept more souls into perdition, than any other implement of the devil. Death and life are in the power of the tongue Prov. xviii. 21.

Experience shows us that there is much need of skill in the use of this net, but this skill will be always vouchsafed of God. The fish are wary, and it is only by keeping our one point in view, and steadily turning always to it, no matter how often we have been foiled, that we are at all likely to succeed. Many a time has the writer been kept half an hour before he could succeed in getting the conversation with some sick person to be decidedly upon the concerns of the soul. Now and again we seemed on the very verge of what we desired, and then some trivial remark sent ns as far away again as ever. Our course was like that of the Israelites in the desert, continually towards the promised land — and almost touching it — and then going back as far as ever again. No more curious book could he written than the conversations of a minister with such persons, up to the point where he succeeded in making it bear upon spiritual things.

We must not be discouraged because no immediate result seems to follow upon our conversations for God. We cannot tell when they will turn up, nor when they will open the way for further progress in Divine things.

A missionary called many times upon a certain woman with tracts, and although she received them, it was generally with reluctance. He had almost despaired of ever being any real benefit to her, for though she did not persecute, there was an awful aversion to the truth, and he could never get beyond the street until the hand of God was laid upon her. He was then requested to call and see her, and, to his great surj)rise, found her in concern about her soul. Her affliction was severe, but it was not that that caused her anxiety, but her everlasting welfare. What had been said to her at the door had made an impression on her mind not easily to he got rid of and her grief was, that she had not yielded to the convictions under which she had been laboring, and that she had not admitted him when she ought to have done so. Her anxiety increased, and with it her affection for God’s people. The following are some of her remarks: — Her dauffliter, who is averse to what she calls nonsense,’ reproved her for admitting the missionary, and she replied, Ah, my child! I know one thing, and I would give the world to know another: I am a sinner — I feel it, I know it; oh, that I could feel that mercy is in store for me!’ At another time, in speaking to a relative, she said, Never, no never, despise the servants of the Lord; listen to them, they are your best friends; I have found it so.’ Indeed, she preaches Christ to all who come to see her.”

Perhaps it may be only one word, or one sentence that will hook the fish, as was the case in the following instance.

How glad I am to see you, Mr. T.!’ said a sick woman to a city missionary; I ‘m always glad to see you now; but you know that I did n’t use to be so. I did n’t like to see you come. I used to think I know’d every thing when you came to talk to me, but now I ‘m different; I see I know nothing at all. Years ago, when I went to your meeting one Sunday night, you spoke on the Flood, and you spoke about Noah’s carpenters being lost, who had helped to build the ark. I was led to tremble then; but you know, though I promised then to lead a new life, I soon forgot all about it, and went on in sin like a poor, blind old sinner. But that often corn’d into ray mind about Noah’s carpenters being lost. I could n’t shake that off. I ‘ve thought on it hundreds of times. And though I went on in sin, you know I was n’t happy; I was miserable at times. But ever since you read that chapter about the Pharisee and the Publican, I ‘ve been led to see what a poor, vile, and ignorant old sinner I am. ‘T was that chapter that opened my eyes. I thank God that you ever corn’d. Now I feel that I want more faith. I want to feel like as the poor Samaritan leper you spoke of on Sunday evening; and I want to cast myself at the feet of Jesus, with gratitude for what He have done for me.’ Her love for the means of grace and for visitation is very great, and she often says, Do come and see me as often as you can. It refreshes my soul so to see you, and if I can get out at all now, and can only as it were crawl, I feel that I must and do come to hear you.’ She has recently been very dangerously ill, but her faith and hope in the Lord Jesus have been manifest to all around her. She is able with St. Paul to say, I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him against that day.’ She is well known to several, who take a pleasure in visiting her, and listening to some of her pithy sayings about what the Lord has graciously done for her soul. His grace is triumphant in her, and makes her glad in God her Saviour.”

Conversations will often remain in people’s minds, even though they wish to get rid of them, and who can tell the moment when they will turn up?

And bear in mind, dear reader, that the whole thing may be done by a solitary observation or remark. You

* Hero is a good example of following up well an original remark. “Travelling once on the outside of a stage coach, I said to a man, who for a few miles happened to be my only companion, ‘ Do you care any thing about your soul?’ ‘What is that to you!’ he replied, in a tone and manner which he evidently thought would silence me. I at once remarked that certainly it must be of far greater importance to himself than it could possibly be to me; but that if I, a perfect stranger, felt any interest in the question, how much more ought he to feel, since it mainly concerned himself! ‘Upon my word,’ said the man, ‘there is something like good sense in that.’ He then listened attentively to all need not be a logician; you may perhaps have no power of sustaining conversation; you may perhaps be wholly destitute of brilliancy; one sentence/*” even one word, may do the wmrk. It was to a single sentence, that Merle D’Aubigne owned his conversion. The following gives us this part of his history: —

“When M. Monod and I,’” says he, attended the university of Geneva, there was a professor of divinity who confined himself to lecturing on the immortality of the soul, the existence of God, and similar topics. As to the Trinity, he did not believe it. Instead of the Bible, he gave us quotations from Seneca and Plato; Saint Seneca and Saint Plato were the two saints whose writings he held up to admiration.’’ And thoroughly did the disciples enter into the opinions and spirit of their master. About the time of Mr. Haldane’s arrival in Geneva, there appeared apamphlet, entitled, ‘“Considerations on the Divinity of Jesus Christ,” by Henry Empeytaz. This pamphlet produced great excitement among the students in theology, to whom it was addressed. They assembled in the grand hall, chose

I had to say. In the course of my address, I saw him try to conceal an unbidden tear; and when he left the coach, which he did at the next market town, he said, ‘ Good morning to you, sir, and many thanks for your faithfulness.’ ’’

* A number of intimate friends being at dinner on the Lord’s day, one of the company, in order to prevent improper discourse, said, “It is a question whether we shall all go to heaven or not.” This plain expression occasioned a general seriousness and self-examination. Ono thought, “If any of this company go to hell, it must be myself;” and so thought another and another. In short, it was afterwards found, that this sentence proved, by the special blessing of God upon it, instrumental to the conversion of many. for their president one of their own number and addressed to the Venerable Company’’ a letter in which they solemnly protested against what they termed ‘“the odious aggression.’” The foremost man on this occasion, the chosen j)resident of the assembled students, was no other than Merle D’Aubigne. But the Lord sent one of His servants to Greneva,” he says, and I well remember the visit of Robert Haldane. I heard of him first as an English or Scotch gentleman, who spoke much about the Bible, which seemed a very strange thing to me and the other students, to whom it was a shut book. I afterwards met Mr. Haldane at a private house, along with some other friends, and heard him read from an English Bible a chapter from Romans about the natural corruption of man — a doctrine of which I had never before heard. In fact, I was quite astonished to hear of men being corrupt by nature. I remember saying to Mr. Haldane, Now I see that doctrine in the Bible.’ Yes,’ he replied, but do you SEE IT IN YOUR HEART?’ That was a simple question hut it came home to my conscience. It was the sword of the Spirit; and from that time I saw that my heart was corrupted, and knew from the Word of God, that I can be saved by grace alone.”

There are often little helps in the way of circumstances which we may avail ourselves of, as in the following instance, and they will prove very helpful. The fisher for men should turn everything to account:

A young man who had graduated at one of the first colleges in America, and was celebrated for his literary attainments, particularly his knowledge of mathematics, settled in a village where a faithful minister of the gospel was stationed. It was not long before the clergyman met with him in one of his evening walks and after some conversation as they were about to part addressed him as follows: — I have heard that you are celebrated for your mathematical skill, I have a problem which I wish you to- solve.’’ What is it?” eagerly enquired the young man. The clergyman answered, with a solemn tone of voice, What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” The youth returned home, and endeavored to shake off the impression fastened on him by the problem proposed to him, but in vain. In the giddy round of pleasure, in his business, and in his studies, the question still forcibly returned to him, What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his owui soul?” It finally resulted in his conversion, and he became an able advocate and preacher of that gospel which he once rejected.

Many a time has a word turned and shaped the whole course of a man’s career on earth; a word has made, and a word has unmade himf cast in as your hook, even a single word, you know not, perhaps you never will know until eternity, what it will bring forth.

In Madame Guyon’s life, we meet with a very interesting case of the value of a conversation, and especially of seizing an opportunity. Such opportunities are often very short, as in the present case. -In June or July, 1671, a letter was brought to Madame Guyon from her half brother. Father La Mothe. The bearer was La Combe, who was then young, but came highly recommended from La Mothe, who wished his sister to see him, and to regard and treat him as one of his most intimate friends. Madame Guyon says that she was unwilling at this time to form new acquaintances; hut desirous of corresponding to the request of her brother, she admitted him. The conversation turned chiefly upon religious subjects. With the clear insight of character which she possessed, she could not fail to become deeply interested in La Combe, as one on whom many religious interests might depend. But still she could not at that time fully decide whether she should regard him as truly a possessor of religion, or as merely a seeker after it. I thought,’’ she said, that he either loved God, or was disposed to love Him, a state of things which could not fail to interest me, as it was the great desire of my heart, that everybody should experience this Divine love.” As God had already made use of her as an instrument in the conversion of three persons, members of the religious order to which he belonged, she indulged the hope that she might be made a benefit to him. And although she says she felt a reluctance to begin the acquaintance, she now felt a desire to continue it.

La Combe left her, but he was not satisfied. Providence had brought him in contact with a mind to which either grace ‘or nature, or both in combination, had given power over other minds. He desired, therefore, to see more, and to hear more. And, accordingly, on the basis of the acquaintance which had thus begun, he repeated the visit after a short time. Madame Guyon remarks that La Combe, who seems to have been a man not only of intelligence, but also of vivacity and generosity of feeling, was very acceptable to her husband. On this second visit lie conversed with her husband freeljL During the interview, he was taken somewhat unwell, and with the view of recovering and refreshing himself in the open air, he went out and walked in the garden. Soon after, Madame Gruyon, at the particular request of her husband, went out for the purpose of seeing him, and of rendering any assistance which might be needed. She availed herself of the opportunity which was thus afforded, to explain to him what she denominates the interior or inward way, la voie de Vinterieur; a way which is inward, because it rests upon God, in distinction from the way which is outward, and which rests upon man. He was prepared to receive her remarks, because he inwardly felt the need of that form of experience which was involved in them, and because he perceived from her countenance, her conversation, and her life, that she possessed that of which he felt himself to be destitute. La Combe ahoays admitted that this conversation formed a crisis in his life. Her words, attended by Divine power, sank deep into his soul. It was then and there, that he formed the purpose, with the Divine assistance, to be wholly the Lord’s. God was pleased,” says Madame Guyon, to make use of such an unworthy instrument as myself, in the communication of His grace. He has since owned to me, that he went away at that time changed into quite another man.”

To these we may be permitted to add the following illustrations: —

When on a journey for ray health, in 1812,” writes a Christian minister, on a hot sultry day, I called at a farm house in one of the beautiful towns in Berkshire county to procure a drink of water. There happened to be no one in the house but a young lady, apparently about sixteen years of age to whom I was introduced by my travelling companion and from whom I received a glass of that refreshing and healthy beverage which flows in such rich abundance from the hills of New England.

As I rose to depart I took her hand and said

Permit me my dear girl before I leave you, to inquire whether you have yet given your heart to your precious Saviour?’

She replied in the negative, while the tear that stole down her cheek showed that she was not without feeling.

I then said to her, My child, I am a minister of Jesus Christ, and as such it is not only my duty, but my privilege to offer you eternal life, upon the condition of your repenting of your sins, and putting your trust in Him; will you accept of this offer?’

^•She answered with deep emotion, cannot decide that question now.’

said, You will have to decide it now. Jesus Christ is beseeching you by me, to be reconciled to God, and if you do not choose to tell me what your decision is. He will take the answer from your heart, and it will be recorded in heaven, that you have either accepted the offer of eternal life, made to you by your Redeemer today, or that you have rejected Him again.’

She seemed to take a new view of her fearful responsibility, and wept convulsively; but could not be prevailed on to tell me what her decision was.

After repeating some appropriate passages of Scripture, to show her her duty and her danger, I left her. expecting to see and hear of her no more, until we should meet at the judgment seat of Christ.

Years afterwards, on stepping upon a steamboat in New York to go to Philadelphia, my name being called by some of my friends- on board, a gentleman came up to me, and asked if my name was Wisner. On being answered in the affirmative, he inquired if I had ever been in the town of, Berkshire county. I told him

I had passed through it in 1812. He then informed me, that when he was coming from home, a lady requested him, if he should meet me on his journey, to say, that she was the individual who gave me the glass of water; and what I had said on that occasion sunk so deeply into her heart, that she could find no rest until she hoped she had closed in with the offer of her blessed Lord; and that she wished me to accept her thanks for what was to her, truly ‘ a word spoken in season. “”

In 1815, while spending a Sabbath in a place where they had no stated preaching, I jjut up with a deacon in the church, whose sister-in-law had come from a neighboring town to spend the Sabbath with him. She was a gay thoughtless girl of about eighteen years of age. Knowing that her widowed mother was a pious woman, and felt anxious about her daughter, I wished to have some personal conversation with her before she went home. She seemed to be aware of my intention, and so entirely avoided me, that I had no opportunity of speaking to her, until she was ready on Monday morning to return home. When she started, I accompanied her to the door, and as I assisted her to get on her horse, I told her that 1 was deeply concerned for her soul; I felt that she was in imminent danger and entreated her to remember her Creator now in the days of her youth. She made me no answer but rode off and I felt that I had lost an opportunity of doing her good.

About a year afterwards I was sent for to administer the sacrament to that churchy and after the preparatory lecture the deacons told me there was a candidate to be examined whom I found to be the young woman who had so skillfully avoided me on a former occasion.

“On inquiring what it was that first called her attention to her lost condition, she informed me that it was the few words I said to her, when helping her on her horse; that they rung in her ears all the way home, and deprived her of rest until she found it in Christ. Her successful evasion of a more deliberate conversation, was doubtless employed to bring a brief word home the more forcibly to her unguarded heart.’’

A number of acquaintances and friends had assembled to spend a social evening together. In the course of the evening they resolved to have a dance, and prevailed on Michael Onions (the man at whose house they were) to go out a distance of two miles to procure a fiddler for them. On his way he met a stranger, who, having missed his road, requested Michael to direct him to Madeley. Michael readily consented to do this, and walked about half a mile with him for this purpose. The stranger ascertained the errand on which Onions was going, and began to talk to him about his soul, showing him the unsuitableness of such follies to a dying man, his need of salvation and a personal interest ,in Christy and his awful danger as an unsaved sinner. When the stranger left Michael the conversation had so impressed him that he dared not proceed on his errand but returned to his home. When he opened the dooi’j his friends inquired.

Have you brought the fiddler?’

Is he not at home? Have you been to Brosely?’

Why, what is the matter? you look ill, and are all of a tremble.’

Michael then told them that he had met somebody, but whether a man or angel he could not tell; he never before heard such a man. He repeated what had been said to him on spiritual subjects, and added, I dare not go to Brosely; I would not for the world.’

The party was broken up. The next Sabbath Michael and some of his friends attended Madeley church, and there, in Rev. John Fletcher, the new vicar, he recognised the stranger who had conversed with him. The impression wrought on Michael was lasting in its character, and under the influence of the Holy Spirit, led to his conversion. He became a zealous, devoted, and useful Christian. A word spoken in due season, how good it is.’”

The late Bishop Wilson, of Calcutta, tells us that an observation was the means of his conversion.

“One evening I was as usual engaged in wicked discourse with the other servants in the warehouse, and religion happening (humanly speaking I. mean) to be started, I was engaged very warmly in denying the responsibility of mankind, on the supposition of absolute election and the folly of all human exertions where grace was held to be irresistible. (I can scarcely proceed for wonder that God should have upheld me in life, at the moment I was cavilling and blaspheming at His sovereignty and grace). We had a young man in the warehouse whose amusement for many years had been entirely in conversing on the subject of religion. He was saying that God had appointed the end; He had also appointed the means. I then happened to say that I had none of those feelings towards God which He required and approved. Well, then,^’ said he, pray for the feelings!’ I carried it off with a joke, but the words at the first made some impression on my mind, and thinking that I would still say that I had done all I could; when I retired at night I began to pray for the feelings. It was not long before the Lord in some measure answered my prayers, and I grew very uneasy about my state.’’

He who is inclined to fish for souls may also make use of good hooks and that with great success. Many souls owe their salvation to good books.

Wears of despondency passed over John Bunyan before he came to the enjoyment of the peace of the gospel. The light which first stole in upon his soul, and in which his darkness finally melted away, was a clear discovery of the person of Christ, more especially a distinct perception of the dispositions which He manifested while He was here on earth. And one thing greatly helped him, he alighted on a congenial mind, and an experience in many respects like his own. Providence threw in his way an old copy of Luther’s Commentary on Galatians, so old, lie says that it was ready to fall piece from piece if I did but turn it over. When I had but a little way perused the book, I found my condition in his experience so largely and profoundly handled, as if his book had been written out of my heart.^

It was while reading a book that Colonel Gardiner saw the celebrated vision which issued in his conversion.

Towards the middle of J uly, 1719, he spent an evening of folly with some of his gay associates. The company broke up about eleven, and at twelve he had made a criminal appointment. The intervening hour must be bridged over by some employment. A pious mother had, without his knowledge, slipped into his portmanteau Watson’s Christian Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm.’ The title attracted him, and he expected some amusement from its military phraseology. He took it and read, but it produced no seriousness nor reflection. While the book was yet in his hand, however, impressions were made on his mind, the fruit of which must be regarded as the best index to whence they came. Whether he was asleep or awake at the time, he* felt it afterwards difficult to determine. But if asleep, so vividly was what he saw and heard impressed on his mind, that it seemed to be a waking reality. He thought he saw an unusual blaze of light fall on the book while he was reading, which he at first imagined might happen by some accident in the candle. But lifting up his eyes, he apprehended, to his extreme amazement, that there was before him, as it were, suspended in the air, a visible representation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross, surrounded on all sides with a glory; and was impressed as if a voice, or something equivalent to a voice, had come to him to this effect: — 0, sinner! did I suffer this for thee? and are these thy returns?’

The issue of this vision was, that Colonel Gardiner became a converted man, and lived to the glory of God for many years.

Sometimes an isolated passage in a book will do the work either of convicting or comforting; one sentence may be fruit bearing, when many pages seem dead.

Miranda N.,’’ says a Christian minister, “was about eighteen years of age, much distinguished for personal beauty, but more for uncommon sweetness of disposition, and great amiability of deportment. There was not, perhaps, amongst all the people of my charge, one whose case would have been more promptly cited, and perhaps none so effectively, to disprove the doctrine of the entire sinfulness of the unregenerate heart. She was deservedly a general favorite. She seemed to entertain the kindest affection towards all, and every one who knew her loved her. One evening, at an inquiry meeting held at my house, I noticed in a full room, a female in great apparent distress; her loud sobs were a frequent and painful interruption of the silence of the room. On coming to her seat I was not a little surprised to find myself by the side of Miranda. The first inquiry I put to her was this: What has brought you here, Miranda?’ With emphasis, she replied, My sins, sir.’ With a view to test the reality and depth of her convictions, I then said, But what have you done which makes either your heart or life appear so heinously sinful At this second question, she broke out in a voice that reached the extreme part of the room, and thrilled through every hearty for she was known and loved by every one present,

I hate God, and I know it. I hate Christians, and I know it. I hate my own being. Oh! that I had never been born.’ As she uttered this acknowledgment, she rose and left the room in irrepressible agony. A few minutes after this, while walking the adjoining room in great distress, her eye lighted upon a copy of Village Hymns, which lay upon the sideboard. She eagerly caught it up, and read at the first page, to which she opened, these words —

“There is a fountain filled with blood,

Drawn from Immanuel’s veins,

And sinners plunged beneath that flood,

Lose all their guilty stains.”

As she finished this verse, she dropped the book and exclaimed, I have found my Saviour! This is the Saviour I need; 0 precious Saviour!’ and many other expressions of the same kind. Her enmity to God was gone; her burden was removed.”

A hymn-book has often been made the means of blessing. The case we have just referred to is by no means solitary. To it we may add that of a poor wretched female, religiously educated, but afterwards abandoned to sin, misery, and want. This poor creature was horrified at hearing her own child repeat, as soon as she could well speak, some of the profane language which she had learned of herself. She trembled at the thought that she was not only going to hell herself, but that she was also leading her child thither. She instantly resolved that with the first sixpence she could procure, she would purchase Dr. Watts’s Divine Songs,” of which she had some recollection, to teach her infant daughter. She did so; and on opening the book, her eye caught the following striking verse: —

“Just as the tree, cut down, that fell
To north or southward; there it lies;
So man departs to heaven or hell,
Fixed in the state wherein he dies.”

She read on; the event was blessed to her conversion, and she lived and died a consistent professor of religion.

The Rev. Mr. Lord, seaman’s chaplain, at Boston, mentions a very interesting case of a man’s conversion by a book; and of the conversion of a second man, through the instrumentality of the first, a book in this case also, being the means employed.

The first of these men was converted by reading Little Henry and his Bearer he went home, but on refiection, made up his mind to go on board a man-ofwar, for the purpose of dging good. He shipped at Charlestown, furnishing himself with tracts, Bibles, and the Society’s volumes. The crew were so wicked, that at the end of nine months the chaplain was compelled to leave the ship; but this man, and one or two other pious men remained. At last God blessed him. One of the men was sent up to a foretop-sail as a punishment. He asked this man to lend him a book, which he did. He was a wicked man, and had been accustomed to read Tom Paine,’ and similar works. But now he came down serious, and inquired what he should do to be saved.’ God opened the windows of heaven, and in three weeks there were between twenty and thirty inquirers, and fifteen or twenty entertaining hope. There was great and continued opposition from the officers. But at the end of three years-and-a-half the vessel arrived and eleven men who had endured this fiery persecution all this time, sat down to commemorate the dying love of Jesus.’^

When Flavel was in London, in 1673, his old bookseller, Mr. Boulter, told him that some time before, there came into his shop a sparkish gentleman,’ to inquire for some play books. Mr. Boulter told him he had none, but shewed him Mr. Flavel’s treatise of Keeping the Heart,’ entreating him to read it, and assuring him it would do him more good than play books. The gentleman read the title, and glancing upon several pages here and there, broke out into these and such other expressions, What a fanatic was he who made this book!’ Mr. B. begged of him to buy and read it, and told him he would have no cause to censure it so bitterly. At last he bought it; but told him, he would not read it. / What will you do with it, then?’ said Mr. Boulter; I will tear and burn it,’ said he, ^andsendit to the devil.’ Mr. B. told him, then he should not have it! Upon this the gentleman promised to read it, and Mr. B. told him if he disliked it upon reading, he would return him his money. About a month after, the gentleman came to the shop again in a very modest habit, and, with a serious countenance, addressed Mr. Boulter thus: Sir, I most heartily thank you for having put this book into my hands, — I bless God that moved you to do it; it hath saved my soul. Blessed be God that ever I came into your shop!’ And then he bought a hundred more of those books of him, and told him he would give them to the poor, who could not buy them.”

A printed sermon of Whitfield’s was the means of a mans conversion the circumstances of which we give a place to here because they show us what people thought of real spiritual earnestness in those days; not but that there are many who think Bedlam a very suitable place for God’s people even in the present day.

J oseph Periam, a young man in London who had read Whitfield’s sermon on Regeneration, became deeply impressed by it; he sold all he possessed and prayed so loud and fasted so long, that his family supposed him deranged and sent him to the Bedlam madhouse, where he was treated as Methodistically mad, and as one of Whitfield’s gang. The keepers threw him down, and forced a key into his mouth, while they drenched him with medicine. He was then placed in a cold room without windows, and with a damp cellar under it. Periam, however, found some means of conveying a letter to Whitfield, requesting both advice and a visit. There were promptly given. The preacher soon discovered that Periam was not mad; and taking a Mr. Seward and some other friends with him, he went before the committee of the hospital to explain the case. Seward so astounded the committee by quoting Scripture, that they pronounced him to be as mad as Periam. The doctors frankly told the deputation, that in their opinion, Whitfield and his followers were really beside themselves. It was, however, agreed that if Whitfield would take Periam out to Georgia, his release would be granted. Thus the conference ended, and the young man went out as a schoolmaster at the Orphan-House, where he was exemplary and useful.”

And in the present day there is (in this respjct at least) assuredly no lack of fishing gear. Of making many books there is no end; the press is truly a mighty engine, either for the ruin or the good of souls. There are nets and hooks thus supplied to suit the calibre of every fisherman, and the capacity of every fish; and we may do much by lending or giving them away. And the book will sometimes succeed where the tract fails; many a one will be pleased with a book that would be offended with a tract. Sometimes more good is done by lending a book than by giving it; when you get it back, it is something like pulling in your line, you have an opportunity of seeing if there be anything at the end of it; when your friend returns the book you will of course ask him what he thinks of it; you will get into conversation with him on it; you will possibly be ready with some opinions of your own upon it; you will also be ready with a second volume; and thus, a soul, perhaps otherwise inaccessible, may be won to everlasting life.

A very cheap, easy, and successful way of fishing for men, is by means of tract distribution. This means of usefulness is within the reach of every one who desires to do something for the Lord; the daily walk or drive will afford a ready fishing ground,”^’ with this advantage that it is sure to swarm with fish. The author knew a man who fished a good deal in this way, and it is to be

* In the Memoir of Francis Lewis Mackenzie, a young man of great promise, we are told that “a number of tracts selected and arranged for different ages, from adults down to the infant were in his coat pocket, as left by him, when he undressed for the last time.” What a sweet evidence of readiness to be about the Master’s business in daily life; laying down the garments of daily life and the Master’s work together to put on bright raiment and enter into rest. hoped not without success. On one occasion our diligent friend saw a pair of breeches hanging up to dry and quick as thought he popped a tract into the pockety let us hope with future edification to the owner; when the wind was favorable he fleAV them over the walls of the gardens of persons who would not be likely to take them by hand; sometimes he twisted them into the shape of a penny bag of sugar or an ounce of tea, giving them a good twist at the bottom, and a neat turn in at the top; then again by doubling and re-doubling them until they were no larger than a child’s marble; and tying them compactly together, he used to shoot them through the shop doors as he walked by, and behind the counters, when a favorable opportunity offered; Ave have known him when waiting at a railway station insert them between the paper and the sugar loaf lying there to be sent to a neighboring grocer; a rent in the paper affording a favorable opportunity; and many a poor gate-keeper upon the raihvays has received in the white shower which flew towards him out of the window of the train as it flcAv by, gospel messengers able to save the immortal soul. It is astonishing what can be done by practice. Our indefatigable friend attained to great skill in shooting his tracts and gospel pellets; in his line, he did as well as many a member of a rifle corps, making a good score upon coal Avagons, market baskets, railway stations, and even through the hole of a street lamp, which the gasman had laid down for a moment, as it wanted some repairs. Wherever our friend saw any building going on, there he laid his tracts in the laborers’ hods, and under bricks and slates which were sure to be moved. A new building was to him, much what a preserve is to a sportsman; eternity alone will tell the effect of what was found under the bricks. There are at the present moment some of our friend’s tracts under hedge-side stones which he does not expect to be found for some years; then he expects them to find, as well as to be found.’

Surely we have no readers who are too timid to drop a tract upon the road; perhaps some one says, but may be some one will pick it up and run after us Well! even if any one did, that would not hurt you; but we make every allowance for nerves; only we must not forget that nerves can be sent to school, and that if we begin at the alphabet of work, we may soon go on to something better. Let such a one begin to throw a tract when no one is in sight; then, when some one is coming on from a long distance; then, when some one is near; and so on; our friend in earnest, though feeble, will improve each day, and at last arrive at sufficient boldness to be able to get out, May I beg your acceptance of this!” minister was entertaining at his table another zealous minister of God, a young man, now very useful in France. He was desirous of knowing how his young friend had been led to Christ, as he had said that both his feelings and studies had kept him, for many years, far from the way of peace. The first impression made on my soul,’ said the young minister, was, under God’s grace, the effect of a small tract which I picked up from the highway side, near the village of Faong, in the Canton of Vaud, when I was returning from Germany.’ Did that happen,’ asked the master of the house, in 1826, and in the last week of October?’ Precisely,’ answered the minister with astonishment; how do you know it?’ ‘ Pray were you dressed in a common travelling garh, with a knapsack on your shoulders and a white cap?’ Such was indeed, my dress; but, again, how do you know it?’ It was perhaps, also, that tract entitled L’epi Glane sur la Grande Eoute?’ It was really: but I beg you to explain how / I will tell you, dear brother,” said the minister. I remember distinctly that at the foot of Faong hill, that very year, and the very week you speak of, as I was returning from Berne, I placed purposely, and with a prayer, the vey tract mentioned, on the left side of the road, hoping that a young man, whom I saw coming at some distance, would find it, and receive a benefit from it. And I remember that, as I was on the top of the ascent, I looked back, and saw the traveller bending, taking, and immediately reading the tract, and that I prayed again to the Lord, that he would bless the reading.” Wonderful!” exclaimed the young man. How good is our Lord who prepared for us these spiritual ties; who has been pleased to show me my first unknown benefactor, and to encourage us to cast our bread upon the waters!“”

It is very true that if you pull out a little paper and olfer some of its contents to your neighbor opposite you in the raihvay carriage, he will perhaps smile benignantly at you, if it contain sandwiches; and scoavI unutterable things, if it contain divine truths; but remember, that where some refuse, some also take; and there is truth in what a tract distributor said, when he remarked, that if you offered tracts to people in a kind, and frank, above-board way, they seldom or never insuited you; but that people dont like tracts being given to them as though the person giving them, were half ashamed of them himself. When a man has a genuine good article to dispose of, he is not ashamed of it; wo know what we have to dispose of, even though it be by giving away, let us not be ashamed of it, as though it were some j)inchbeck thing of little worth.

And here we may be permitted to express a wish that tracts were got up in a more attractive form than they often are; many a one will take a little book who will not take a tract; we also wish that where it can be conveniently dispensed with, tracts did not bear upon their very forehead their number and series. Wo believe that they would be much more likely to be effective if they came as isolated messengers, each complete in itself; many a man who gets hold of a tract marked, Large Type Series, No. 8,’’ or Tracts to the Unconverted, No. 2,’’ or Wayside Leaves, No. 3/’ or some such inscription, feels that he is the victim of a system; he is not being grappled by a truth, or talked with by a friend; but he is being operated on by a system, and that he does not like.

Even hanging up a religious almanac may catch a soul. A question having arisen in a mess kitchen of the London police as to the date of some event, one of the men went to look at the almanac, but instead of answering the question, he by mistake read the text for the day. Its applicability struck some of them. It was talked about, and for a long time after some one was sure to call out at dinner time, What does the almanac say to-day?’ The man in charge of the kitchen read the text. This often led to serious conversation, and eventually produced quite u reformation in the kitchen. So the almanac text proved a word in season.’”

It may seem unnecessary to speak here of sermons as gospel nets to fish souls for heaven; partly because so few of our readers can fish in this way, and partly because the matter seems so self-evident. But alas! this great net is by no means as successful as it ought to bo. The meshes of many a sermon are so wide that the fish can swim through them; the preacher is so vague and undefined that he misses laying hold of souls. This is the case even in the language that is used, especially where the knowledge of theological terms is assumed. On this subject Cecil spoke earnestly to Daniel Wilson, when he entered on his curacy.

I particularly wish you would study hard to prepare yourself for this place. It is not enough that a man has good intentions. He needs also capacity, knowledge, aptitude, all which, you know, are greatly imj)roved by study; and study itself much depends on method.

How, then, for the method. Go amongst the poorest and most illiterate of the people where you dwell, and let your subject of discourse to them be the solar system. Endeavor with great plainness to defend Copernicus against Tycho; and make them thoroughly understand the difference and the superiority. Don’t let one depart, until he is fully convinced that the sun must be placed in the centre. Stop,’ say you, I shall never be able to make them understand my very terms.’ Ho Then invent new ones adapted to their capacity; for much easier is it to give people right notions of the solar system than of the gospel; and far more willing will they be to let the sun stand in his place there than here.

Pray, therefore, study hard: and in a way a college never teaches.’’

It is a great mistake to give even educated congregations absolute credit for a knowledge of such common terms as “justification” and sanctification.” It is easy to paraphrase these words, without any injury to composition; and if any of our readers he in the ministry, and will only try how many of their congregations understand these terms, they will, we are sure, see the need of keeping the explanation of them continually before their people.

It was the boast of the late Daniel O’Connell that he could drive a coach and four through any act of parliament that had ever been framed; it may be boasted by many congregations that they can go in and out through the sermons they hear; the minister does not lay hold of anyone, indeed he would be rather startled if he did. Alas! how many ministers there are, who would be amazed if some of their parishioners called upon them, roused and startled by what they had heard from them the previous day. Such would be almost as frightened and flurried themselves, as their visitors are — they would say to themselves, What could I have said to make all this disturbance? I’m sure, I did not mean to agitate any one” — the fact is, the sermon was never meant to rouse any one, and if the minister knew that it had such explosive powers, he would have damped it down a little, because he has a bad opinion of excitement in religion. Preachers should ever have a fixed design in preaching; aimless preaching will leave little result; they should say to themselves, what exactly have I tried to do today: did I aim at rousing, restoring, or building up a soul In order successfully to make this sermon net, we must make the meshes close; and in order to use it, we must entirely forget self, in our earnest effort after what we can catch. What should we think of a man whoso main anxiety was to shew himself to the fish, and not to pull in the fish themselves. We should think him mad; hut he would not he a whit more mad than the minister who tries to get men to think of him, when he should be exerting himself to secure them.’ And what should we think of a fisherman who purposely made his meshes so wide that the fish could swim through, or who did not carefully close up every rent, so that none could possibly escape? Soul arresting, soul catching preaching, is what we want. Let not the fishers of men he afraid of preaching a full law against impenitent sinners, and a full gospel for all penitent ones; let them show men their

* The following answer might, alas! be only too truly given in the present clay. Dr. Sheldon, Archbishop of Canterbury, in IGTS, on an occasion when Betterton, the celebrated actor, was dining with him, said, “Pray, Mr. Betterton, inform me what is the reason you actors on the stage can affect your audience by speaking of things imaginary?” “Why, my Lord,” replied Betterton, “with submission to your Grace, the reason is very plain: all lies in the power of enthusiasm. We actors on the stage speak of things imaginary as if they were real, and you in the pulpit speak coldly of things real as if they were imaginary.”

When the courtly Ridley complained of the llttlo effect produced by his sermons, old father Latimer told him that the fault lay in his not speaking the market language, i. 6., what was understood by the people.

•j* Such men sometimes come to grief. A story is told of a young minister, who ascended the pulpit full of self-possession and vanity, but, having been left to his own strength, quitted it humbled and hanging down his head, upon which an old woman whispered to him, “Ah, sir, if you had gone up into the pulpit as you came down, you might have come down as you went up.” need of a physician, as well as the fact that the physician is at hand. Old Robert Flockart, who used to preach almost nightly in the streets of Edinburgh, and who was a persevering fisher of men, gives good advice to many preachers in this matter. You never,“” said he, saw a woman sewing without a needle! She would come but poor speed if she only sewed wi” the thread. So, I think, when we“re dealing wi” sinners we maun aye put in the needle o” the law first; for the fact is, they“re sleep in” sound, and they need to be awakened up wi” something sharp. But when we“ve got the needle o” the law fairly in, we may draw as lang a thread as you like o” gospel consolation after it.“” There”s many a man, who has clean made his escape from the ministry, because there was no law meshes to catch him. The gospel must be preached as all in all, but the gospel as made an imperative necessity by the law. It is a sense of the power of the law that makes a man need the knowledge and power of the gospel. Take care, fisherman, that thy net be made of right materials, and woven with a close mesh, otherwise thy labor may be great, and yet thy fish be few.

And here it will be well to say a word or two upon the important subject of mending our nets.

We find in all earthly toil that no inconsiderable amount of time has been spent in repairing the implements by which it is carried on. The mower spends one half his time in sharpening his scythe; the carpenter has often to stop to grind or sharpen his tools; the fisherman has to spend no little attention upon mending his nets. And as it is with them in their earthly, so is it with God”s people in the spiritual toil; there is much to be done as it were in private which if left undone, will cause the actual hours of toil to be without profit.

This is a point to which the attention of ministers might be profitably called in the present day. One of the chief characteristics of the present day is energy, action; ministers are compelled to head many parochial movements, to be up and doing in the various fields of charity and labor. To be here, there, and everywhere at one and the same time, is their duty, in the minds of unthinking, though perhaps pious and zealous men. The idea of working’’ a parish is a good one in itself but it may, if carried too far, be productive of serious evil. And it is productive of evil, when ministers are always on their legs, and seldom on their knees; many times in the pulpit, few times in the study; continually talking, and not often thinking; always giving out, and seldom taking in; what can we expect but that they become blunt, like unsharpened tools, and ineffective, like unmended nets? A minister requires repairs as well as anybody, or anything else; the candle that is burnt at both ends, soon burns out.

But how shall we all mend our nets? most of this work is to be done upon our knees; the most tattered net can be made as good as new, if only we repair it on our knees. There, upon the knees, we get skill to piece in the old rent, and perhaps that piece will, when the net is next tried, turn out to be the strongest piece of all. We mend our nets also over our Bibles. Prepared work is generally effective work; we must not say of our materials Anything will do.” We mend them also by thoughtfulness over our miscarriages. It is by thinking over our faults, weaknesses, and failures, that we discern the flaws in our net; close them all up; and learn to avoid the like again. The time thus spent is well spent; for where this is neglected, then the more haste, the worse speed.’’ Let us think as well as act; pray as well as preach; prepare as well as work; the knees should prepare the way for the lips; the study should be the threshold of the pulpit; the net must be mended in quiet on shore, then it will stand the turmoil of the deep. Jesus Himself was much in prayer, and much alone; even in this respect his words hold good, Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

Those are weighty words of Cecil’s. I say everywhere and to all, you must hold intercourse with God, or your soul will die. You must walk with God, or Satan will walk with you. You must grow in grace, or you will lose it; and you cannot do this but by appropriating to this object a due portion of your time, and diligently employing suitable means. I know not how it is,” said he, ^Hhat some Christians can make so little of recollection and retirement. I find the spirit of the world a strong assimilating principle. I find it hurrying my mind away in its vortex, and sinking me among the dregs and filth of a carnal nature. Even my ministerial employments would degenerate into a mere following of my trade, and crying of my wares. I am obliged to withdraw myself regularly, and to say to my heart, What are you doing? Where are you?’”

How can we more fitly close up this chapter than by saying somewhat of the Reward of the Fishers.

There is a great variety and multitude of fish to be caught; “all sorts and conditions of men” He before the fisherS; to draw out from among them souls for Christ’s glory and their own reward. Yes! look where we will, we see fishers for the fisher’s net.

Where will you cast your net? Down, deep into the dark abyss of vice, amid the almost unnameable outcasts of our race Yes! there can be enclosed fishes for Christ, and thence can they be drawn, to increase for ever the wealth and glory of the fisher’s joy. Courage, fishers in these deep dark waters! the records of the church are full of the experience of successful fishers who have drawn forth these wonders of the deep. Even though you may have toiled all night and caught nothing,” nevertheless, at Christ’s word let down your net for a draught, and you shall meet with great success. Who knows but that one rescued from such depths may be a mightier prey from the deep than many who swam as it were in shoals hard by the gospel net? Let none persuade you, who are giving or working on behalf of these fallen ones, that because some fall back, none are saved; oh yes, they are; and from the harps of the redeemed there will be struck by their hands hereafter, perhaps some of their most wondrous tones; forgiven much, they love much; and their songs of praise have caught the tones of Him, who through our ministry spake to them in their sorrow, sin, and shame; and said, Neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more.”

Where will you cast your net? Amid the vast multitude of fishes, and myriad shoals wdiich gleam and glitter in the rippling waters, like silver spangles cast in lavish handfuls into the rising tide of life — amid the little children — those concerning whom the Saviour said.

Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not for of such is the kingdom of heaven Oh! God speed the fishers; there are great hauls for heaven to be made in these teeming waters. Little does it matter whether these children be raggedy destitute and forlorn; little, that they be ill-taught, ill-tended, and ill-fed; they have that within them which is of amazing price; and lo! they are waiting as it were to be caught; and if you shoot wide your net — your close-meshed net — and encircle them for Christ, and draw them to shore for Him; oh! then shall you see how bright is your spoil; how well you are repaid. Myriads of children shall doubtless be in the land of light, but amid those myriads yours shall not be lost; that which you have drawn forth from the deep for Christ shall be yours as well as Christ’s — His first, then yours; for your labor shall not be in vain in the Lord.

Header! vast depths teeming with life lie before thee; cast thine hook, or shoot thy net into some of them for Christ; if thou hast followed Him, it must be to become a fisher of men. Fear not that exertions, or money, or infiuence, will be ill-spent. The Lord’s word shall not return to Him void. How knowest thou, what thou shalt catch? For aught that thou canst tell, thou mayest bring to Christ some one who may consecrate a great intellect, or great devotedness to His service. The first young man reclaimed by a city missionary’s instrumentality, from a very degraded and vicious life, after spending several years in efforts to reclaim others, in which he was much blessed, became a town missionary, continued such for nine years, till his death, and was followed to the grave by between 2000 and 3000 of those he had visited, although numbers of them were without shoes, and the snow at the time was ankle-deep on the ground. His indeed was a funeral at once humble and yet noble, simple and yet grand; instead of waving plumes, he had palpitating hearts; instead of hired attendants, he had personal mourners; instead of the wailing note of the cornet, and the boom of the muffled drum, he had the cry of the sorrowing child, and the sob of the stalwart man. No mourning coaches, draped in black, ever left such a track behind them as did the falls of the swollen, shoeless, livid feet of that motley crowd in the yielding snow; no marble tablet ever had recorded upon its fair white surface such a memorial as that snow had upon its downy breast! True! the first bright sun dispelled those foot-prints with his beams, (what need was there that they should tarry on the earth?) but the gratitude of which they were a record was sculptured indelibly in heaven; the types might well be broken up, seeing that a stereotype had been taken from them which could not be destroyed. Far be it from me to decry the splendid offering of a nation’s gratitude in the public obsequies of the noble, the learned, or the brave; but when the time comes for me to be borne to my last home, let me not be followed by all the pomp and circumstances of woe, but by a sorrowing crowd like this; let me be laid in the earth, by those with whom I have affinities for heaven. Let my fellows’ last farewell to me, be not the thundering of cannon, and the proclamation of the style and title of the deceased, but a silent look down into the grave, saying, We part with grief on earth and then a silent look upwards to the sky, saying, We shall meet with joy in heaven!”