of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth us from all sin."

The dauntless, lionlike Paul, who once, as the self-righteous Christ-rejecting Pharisee, hunted to the death the followers of the Nazarene, now announces to Jew and Gentile that through the blood of the cross, peace has been made, forgiveness of sins granted, and a way made for the believer right into the glory of God, and then threatens with the eternal vengeance of Jehovah all who count that blood common or unholy (Heb. x. 26-31).

And faith in the Accomplisher of the work is all that God requires from the repentant sinner, for it is written, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved" (Acts xvi.).

Fellow-traveller towards eternity, in the presence of that eternity, I ask you on what are you resting for the salvation of your soul?

A. Z.

CHRIST has gone up on high, as man, into glory; and as His work was for us, righteousness must put us there. It is righteous, for God has been perfectly glorified in His whole being and nature by Christ on the cross. And we know the firstfruits of this in His being glorified; but thus it becomes but righteous that we should be in the glory with Him.

J. N. D.

WORKS.

HAT a terible thing it is to find any one trusting to their (supposed) good works for salvation. On the other hand, how dreadful to hear people say they believe in the Son of God, and yet in their "works they deny him, being abominable, and disobedient, and unto every good work reprobate" (Titus i. 16). When the unconverted Jews asked the Lord, "What shall we do, that we might work the works of God?" (John vi. 28), His answer was, "This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent" (verse 29).

All works are dead works, done by sinners dead in trespasses and sins, till they have believed in Him whom the Father hath sent; and, so surely as there is faith in Christ, there will be good works as the fruit of that faith. The following cases will illustrate these points.

I was asked to visit a woman who was supposed to be dying. When I got there I found her much better, but she had been very ill, almost at the gates of death.

"How did you feel lying there at the thought of death?" I asked her. She replied, "I felt quite happy." "What made you feel happy?" "The thought that I had never told anybody a lie," was the rotten foundation on which she was building.

How un

How solemn! How blind she was! believing as to what God says in Romans iii. 13, where He speaks of "all," and says, "with their tongues they have used deceit." And how presumptuous to thus make God a liar, as we read in 1 John i. 10, “If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us."

Poor woman! I tried to show her how fatally she was deceived and blinded, and that even if she had never lied, that would not suffice to stand with before God, being only filthy rags.

On the other hand, we should show our faith by our works (James ii. 18).

One day, in a fair, a drunken man said to a preacher, who was unfolding the Gospel of the grace of God, "I believe all that." "Do your neighbours know that?" was the quick response of the preacher, but to this there was no reply. How could there be? The man was plainly a drunkard, not a believer; as his own works showed, and as Scripture says, "Faith without works is dead" (James ii. 20). There is the profession, but nothing more; it is profitless.

You may be sure, when there is living faith it will be manifest in good works, by which your neighbours will know and own you as a Christian. Reader, on what are you building? Is it Christ and His finished work? All other ground is but sand. Do you make a profession of believing? and do your neighbours know you are a believer?

M.

THE COLLECTING CARD.

T was after breakfast one summer's morning, some years ago, that I was sitting reading the letters, which the early post had brought, when a knock was heard at the hall door, and the servant mentioned that there was a girl in the hall who wished to speak to me. I accordingly went to her. She was a stranger to me, about twenty years of age, and of very respectable appearance. I noticed a little collecting card in her hand, as I asked her what I could do for her. "I am the daughter of Mr, the schoolmaster, and I want you to give me a subscription for my card."

"May I ask what is the object of the collection ?"

"Oh, it is to convert the Roman Catholics," and she explained to me a little of the work that was being done by the missionary society in which she was interested.

Your object, you say, is to convert the Roman Catholics. A very good work for Christians to have fellowship in; but may I ask, Are you converted yourself?"

"Oh, I am a Protestant, sir!" she exclaimed, looking surprised at being asked such a question. "Yes, but Protestants need to be converted as

L

well as Roman Catholics, for the Lord hath said, 'Except ye be converted. . . ye shall all likewise perish;' so allow me again to ask you, Have you been converted to God yourself?"

"I don't understand what you mean," she replied, looking graver. "I go to church, and say my prayers, and I have a class in the Sunday school, and I do the best I can; but what you mean by being 'converted' I do not understand.”

"Well," I said, "I mean have you been born again,' and had your sins forgiven? for 'except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God' (John iii. 3). Thousands have done all that you have spoken of, and much more, and yet gone down to hell in the end; so I want to know, Have you been born again?"

The young woman blushed, and seemed very uneasy, whilst a look of sadness crossed her countenance. She again replied softly, "I really do not understand the question."

Well," I said, "I will put it as plainly as I possibly can-If God were to call you into eternity now, as you stand in this hall, are you ready to meet Him?"

As I asked this solemn question fear was depicted in her expression, her head hung low, her eyes glistened with tears, and scarcely audibly, but very emphatically, she answered, "No, no, sir; if I were to die at this moment I believe I should go straight to hell, and I never saw it before."

"Well," I remarked, "I do not want to hurt your