hearers will well remember), he gave a course of lectures, entitled, 'Seven Tests of vital Godliness.' I need not say how the heart of my present subject bounded with joy and hope, nor how eagerly these sermons were attended. Every one of them formed a perfect test for any candid and simple heart; but it is a proof of the almost determinate doubtings of T., that the three first discourses were heard with pleasure, certainly, but still without any settling of the mind. On the morning appointed for the delivery of the fourth lecture T. went, with a heavy and almost despairing heart, to St. chapel, and began to listen with sorrowful earnestness. 66 The text was, Hereby know we that we dwell in Him, and He in us, because He hath given us of his Spirit." 1 John, iv. 13. Every mark of the in-dwelling of the Holy Ghost was clearly and minutely described, and every feature of the Christian heart was as clearly and minutely delineated. T.'s earnestness became intensity, and as every description successively was fully recognized, and every feeling identified with those long known in the heart of hearts,' the intensity of attention became an intensity of delight, and at the close of the service T. quitted those endeared and hallowed walls, saying to a beloved friend, Never did I hear such a sermon ! leave the chapel another being from what I entered it!' And this was no exaggeration, for possession was now attained of a blessing never before enjoyed, and which has never since been lost. Should this plain narrative of facts ever meet the eye of that preacher himself, as I hope it perhaps may, I trust that he will receive it as a tribute of gratitude for the consolation he was appointed to convey; for the hand which writes these lines has here traced the history of the heart which dictates them :-I have only described what I have felt. And now, what more shall I say? I beseech my readers to forgive my failings, and to remember only the object of my endeavours. Should they be, in any case, successful in imparting pleasure, warning, or comfort, great will be my delight; and also deep my thankfulness that I was ever led to trace out the discrepancies between the course of the nominal or real Christian, and his celestial compass-those blessed scriptures, which "are able to make wise unto salvation." 2 Tim. iii. 15. X. Q. LEARN this, my Christian brother! This Psalm thus sets forth to us God, and the ways of God: that is, how he works, and what he does, in his church and in the saints: and all this is thus written, that we should not despair in perils and afflictions, when we are beyond the reach of all human help: but that rather, casting away all our own apprehensions and distressing thoughts, we should, at, and from that time, begin to trust in God, and to trust in him more and more, waiting for his help.-Martin Luther, on Psalm 1xxvii. IT IS WELL! "And she answered, It is well!"-2 Kings, iv. 26. Yes, Christian pilgrim, 'It is well!' Why dost thou mourn, when God's own voice The anxious eye, the brow of care? What though the fig no blossom yield, E'en for to-morrow take no heed; Borne by the wave, the water-flowers Thy faith, thy hope, shall not be vain; M. A. S. BARBER. NOVEMBER, 1837. 2 E EVENINGS AT CAMBRIDGE. MADAM, In the last January number of your valuable and interesting periodical you have paid an affectionate tribute to the memory of our revered and beloved friend and pastor, the Rev. Charles Simeon. You have alluded to some striking traits in his character, which came under your own observation; and have described, in a happy manner, those peculiarities of gesture and demeanor which marked that eminent servant of God. Let me now, madam, in common with yourself, cherish the recollections of by-gone days, and indulge in the pleasure of calling back to remembrance those favoured seasons spent in the company of him who has obeyed the last summons that his heavenly Master sent him upon earth, "Arise, and come away." He is gone: but we do earnestly remember him still. Your mind has loved to dwell on those delightful hours that were enjoyed in his society, when he solaced your aching heart, wounded and sad, just then, under the stroke of a heavy bereavement. You have carefully and judiciously uplifted the curtain that veiled his domestic retirement, and have favoured us with an insight into the private life of a man of God. And, truly, they do an essential service to the Christian world who introduce us to the contemplation of a saint at home, and thus afford us the opportunity of contrasting him with the same saint abroad, occupied in the business and bustle of his public ministration. As you have given a sketch of Mr. Simeon in that privacy in which few, who read your pages, can have enjoyed the like privilege of beholding him, permit me, in my turn, to escort you, madam, as well as your fair readers, to a scene at which, in all probability, none of you were ever present. The report may have reached you, that our dear father in Christ was in the habit of receiving at his rooms, on Friday evenings, those members of the university who might be desirous of profiting by his valuable instructions. Such practical or critical difficulties as had been met with during the preceding week, in the course of private study, or in social intercourse with Christian brethren, were brought by us gownsmen to the Friday evening tea-party, to be propounded to Mr. Simeon. And although I fear that, in some instances, those who were present abused the privilege afforded us, and asked 'foolish and vain questions,' for the purpose of displaying their own wit and cleverness of parts, and, perhaps, with the mean hope of being able to say, 'I have puzzled Mr. Simeon'-I say, though it is to be regretted that some, towards the latter part of his life, took dishonourable advantage of his impaired faculties, and went only with a view to entangle him in his speech-yet much do I err in judgment, if many will not have occasion to praise God with eternal praises for benefits received at those important and instructive meetings. I must bring you, then, into Mr. Simeon's audience-chamber, where my mind's eye sees him seated |