Paul, in his burning zeal, his undaunted courage, his lion-like heart, in braving every storm, surmounting every difficulty, breasting every wave; and although he knew that bonds and imprisonment awaited him, yet, yet he could say, in the face of the block or the gibbet," None of these things move me; neither count I my life dear unto me so I may win Christ." Yes, this was the apostle's grand work, to point to a precious Christ. Meet him where you may, or when you may, it was the story of the Cross. Calvary! Calvary! The streaming blood, the sin-killing, soulsaving, devil-defeating, hell-conquering blood. This was his constant theme-" God forbid I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" "I am determined to know nothing among men save Jesus Christ, and Him crucified." The Lord send us more such men. But is it not to be feared that many of our ministers have departed from the simplicity of the Gospel, and instead of preaching Christ they are pulling each other to pieces; bickering, cavilling, and denouncing every body else that do not see just as they do? There are two ways of preaching the truth-a repulsive way and an attractive way. Some men render the truths of the Gospel in such an awkward way, and throw it out in such a clumsy manner that it becomes repugnant to those who hear it; instead of which, as the great apostle says. speaking the truth in love." The man that is most successful in the ministry is the one that preaches up the free, unmerited, saving mercy of God to poor broken-hearted sinners; that man that preaches and holds forth man as lost, ruined, undone, entirely hopeless and helplessness to do anything to save himself. It is only when God, the Eternal Spirit, opens a man's eyes to see that he has no righteousness of his own, then, and only then, will he accept of the righteousness of another, even of the imputed righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ. And thus, the man that preaches up Jesus and Jesus only, is the one that God will own and bless; and such a preacher is our dear brother Messer.

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We had a good congregation; I may say the Lord was with us, and his glory felt amongst us all the day. Yours in Jesus,

70, Hackney-road.

C. ALSOP.

I

POOR EBENEZER ALLNUTT.

WAS riding with Mr. Green to Ripley to preach for our ministering brother, Charles Z. Turner, on the Queen's birthday, May 24th, 1865, when friend Green asked if I had heard of the painful death of one of Mr. Allnutt's sons. I had not heard of it; but having known Henry Allnutt, and his good wife, and their family, so many years, I felt a sympathising desire to know what had taken poor Ebenezer off; and what hope of his salvation was entertained. We were travelling easily on the road from Weybridge to Ripley, through Squire Buxton's beautiful grounds; and a sweeter morning, I think, I never beheld. The trees, the gardens, the fields, the hills and the valleys, the heaths and the shrubberies, all seemed to rejoice in the delightful smiles and healthy brezes, which the sun in the heavens, and a soft southwestern air poured upon the whole face of nature; and while inhaling the ten thousand scents and scenes flowing from such sources of nature's beauty, with Needham, one is constrained to sing

"Lord, while thy glorious works I view,
Form thou my heart and soul anew;
Here bid thy purest light to shine,
And beauty glow with charms divine."

Henry Allnutt was for many years the pastor of the church at Ripley; and there the Lord honoured him; there many times I preached for him; and surely some holy days in our Master's service we have spent. Something I know not what-removed brother Allnutt from Ripley to Brockham; where he still preaches CHRIST IN YOU the hope of glory; and his son in the Gospel, C. Z. Turner, has been raised up to carry on the testimony to God's truth in that calm and contented-looking part of our land, called Ripley-green-a breathing and a resting place for many a weary traveller. Instrumentally, Charles Turner has gathered round him a happy band of sound-hearted believers, who thank the Lord for the use He is pleased to make of His servant among them. Between the services, on the 24th of May, we sat down under the trees on the green; and when they

sang, and as they cheerfully served out the tea, it well prepared a grateful heart to try and sing with all the ransomed

"Awake, my soul, in joyful lays,

And sing thy great Redeemer's praise,
He justly claims a song from thee;
His loving kindness, O how free!"

I return to poor Ebenezer Allnutt. That young man set out in life with hope of being happy in Zion; and useful in his day. Clouds gathered round him; and afflicting dispensations seemed to follow him. Not far from his father's parsonage, the other day, being near some kind of a steam engine, his foot was caught; he was dragged in; and so dreadfully was he crushed, that in a few hours he was laid a lifeless, mutilated corpse. Poor young man ; we only grieve over his dreadful rough passage out of time; but as in his dying moments, he said,

so we hope, now, in that kingdom where such dreadful scenes are never known, his ransomed and justified spirit is singing,

"How sweet and how pleasant,
The conqueror's song!"

This has been another severe trial to the dear pastor at Brockham, in Surrey; but we trust, even now, he tries to sing again,

"Our journey lies across the brink of many a threat'ning wave,
The world expects to see us sink, but JESUS LIVES TO SAVE.”

WALKING LONDON STREETS-No. I.*

I a

WILL tell you of an adventure I had in London some years

and at a corner I saw a poor boy standing near the boys who were cleaning gentlemen's shoes.

"I have often seen them, grandfather."

Well, the poor boy looked a ruin. He was without a shirt, and with such ragged clothing that he was the most con* From the "Life of a successful Wesleyan Minister"-price 6d. Stevenson.

spicuous personage of the street. But he seemed not aware of his strangeness; he was habituated to such a costume. He had at his feet an old box to show that he was there to clean shoes, but he had no customers. I was his first customer that morning.

The other shoe-blacks laughed when I strange boy's box, and one said

"He can't do them, sir-he can't, really; "Yes, I have," replied my poor boy. breakfast as well as you society-boys?"

put my foot on the

he has no brushes." "Ain't I to earn a

The society-boys are those who wear red coats; and they are generally well-behaved, and in this case they were not at all rude; they did not further interfere, but they watched the progress of my shoe-black with great interest. The poor little fellow produced from a piece of faded carpet his brushes. The brush for removing the dirt was a worn-out gentleman's nail-brush, the blacking-brush was a rag with which he smeared on the paste, and the polishing-brush was a worn-out blacklead-brush. Never did a poor fellow commence a trade with a poorer stock of tools. He was twenty minutes in cleaning my boots, and I will tell you our conversation.

"Where did you get your brushes ?"

"I didn't steal them. Rich people throw lots of things away, and they throw'd these away, and I picked 'em up."

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Why do you not buy proper brushes ?"

"I don't earn money enough. Soon as I get a copper mother wants it."

'Have you no father?"

Yes; but he's no good to me, or to mother either. He sometimes brings a bob home, and a tanner too sometimes, but he eats all hisself."

"What is a 'bob,' grandfather? and what is a 'tanner?""

Many vulgar people use improper names for many things: a sixpence they call a tanner; a shilling they call a bob; a sovereign they call a quid. They have other silly names for every other piece of money.

"I shall not call my moneys by those names. Grandfather, what more did the poor boy tell you ?"

I will tell you his sad tale as nearly as I can in his own words. Remember, he was only seven years old, and had never seen any other kind of life than that he described.

"Father comes home and orders a hot supper: mother gets it for him. It's no use saying No,' for he would only beat her and then go and get drunk. So she just does as he says, and she gives it him all. He cuts her off a little bit sometimes, and sometimes he gives me a potato, and sometimes he eats it all himself. I never get no coffee. Sugar is not for the like of me. No; I have had no breakfast yet. I had some supper last night. Mother said, 'Go to Baker's for a half-quartern loaf, and tell him I'll owe him a penny.' I said to mother, 'It's no use trying it on again: he says he won't.' We bought a twopenny loaf, and I had a slice to my supper. I don't know what father does now. He used to take me with him; and he had a big picture of a ship-wreck, and I was dressed as a sailor boy; but father only had me a few times. A chap who was another sailor said, Jim, sailors don't have children: it ain't likely.' So father never took me any more. I sleep on the floor;

I sleep on this carpet, and mother throws over me two old sacks. I sleep well enough. Yes, I should like better brushes. It's no use trying: I shall never get any. There's mother there watching: she wants some coppers; I have not got any yet."

*

I gave the lad sixpence, and I took his address. That evening I surprised the father with a hot supper, and that well-fed beggar-man was eating it alone. The poor lad was crouching by the fire, and the mother was sitting on a stool. The head of the house was caught in a cowardly, infamous action, and he was ashamed. I arranged to rent to the poor boy a set of shoebrushes and a suit of clothes. If I had given them to him, he would not have kept them a day. I made the father sign a paper acknowledging the transaction, and I made him understand the consequences of any misappropriation of my property. All moneys earned were to be brought to me, and I guaranteed to the mother seven shillings weekly for the boy's support. My shoe-black paid