vain are all things compared with Him

Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away;

Change and decay in all around I see; O Thou, who changest not, abide with

me!"

The disciples were affrighted, and well they might be ; as they had forgotten, to a large extent, the nature of His great mission on earth, although He had been so long time with them, and had told them, over and over again, of His sufferings, death, and resurrection. How sweetly condescending of Jesus to for'bear with them and with us day by day. Such marvellous testimonies of His mercy are to be found besprinkled throughout the "Book of books." He blessed the disciples at Bethany and departed. And He has never deprived His waiting ones long of His sensible presence. But what will it be when our ransomed spirits cross the threshold of this narrow life, and suddenly come into the full blaze of His inimitable glory? Till then, the writer would say

Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;

Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee !

In life and death, O Lord, abide with me!"

From my earliest days I had a desire to be a Christian, and, if I had done anything wrong, I would go and ask God to forgive me. When I was about twelve years old, I had the typhus fever, and it left me very weak; and one day, after I had been in great pain, my dear father called the family together for prayer earlier than usual, and prayed especially for me, that if God was about to take ine, He would give some evidence that I should be with Jesus. This frightened me very much, and kept me from sleep; and from that time I often felt very anxious about the salvation of my soul. My dear father died when I was between thirteen and fourteen years old; he was taken ill on a Monday evening, and died early on the following Thursday. Being very anxious to know if he would die, I knelt down and asked God to give me a sign-a pain in my finger-if He was about to take hìm. The words, "A wicked and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign, and there shall no sign be given," came. This much frightened me, and I have never asked for a sign again. My anxiety about my soul increased, but at times it went off. Mr. Shenston used at that time to have a meeting of young people, and there was a very nice address and tea. There I met with a young girl, about my own age, who told me about herself; and it was so like me that it rather encouraged me, and I began to search the Scriptures more. The enemy of souls then seemed to fight against me, to cause me to stumble at the Word. That about the resurrection of the dead I pondered over and over again, and said to myself I would not believe that after the body had gone to dust it could be parted. Then the next was, how it could be possible for Jesus to die for so many; one might die for one, but not for so many, I thought. Mr. Shenston, at the time I was troubled about the resurrection, took for his text, "Can these dry bones live?" He said some persons did not believe in the resurrection; but if God had given such power and wisdom to men, that, if several kinds of

medicine were put in a bottle, and poison among them, the chemist could extract the poison from the rest-how much more could He extract one bo ly from another? And, after I had been so tried and distressed about the death of Jesus for poor sinners, he took for his text the words in Romans, "As by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so, by the obedience of One, shall many be made righteous." That text was so blest to me that I felt it must be from God, as I had told no one of my state of mind; and it increased my desire to be a Christian, and yet I had a love for the world. I heard Mr. Shenston once say the real Christian differed from the worldly, and did not love the_world, but the mere professor did. I felt Í was one, for I felt I should love the pleasures of the world if it did not displease God. But I have never loved the pleasures of the world since I was taught by the Spirit of God. Soon after this, I went to Alie Street, and there was to be a young man set apart for a missionary, and he gave his experience-so like mine. He had so often longed to be a Christian, and then went back, until he heard a sermon preached by Mr. Shenston that was blest to him; and when Mr. Shenston offered prayer for him, I prayed that I might then and there be made a Christian. Oh, I did long for it, but did not think it would be to me in the way it was.

After the ordination prayer, Mr. Shenston gave the young man an address from the words, "Go, and the Lord be with thee," in a very powerful manner, and spoke so beautifully of the glory of heaven, and if they never met again on earth they would in heaven. That said to me, "Then I shall never see them;" and for nearly twelve months I was in great distress, sometimes a little hope and then down again. On one occasion Mr. S. was preaching from "He that loveth father or mother more than Me cannot be My disciple." Oh, I thought, if I knew that God loved me I would give up all, and my dear mother was very ill. One of the members came to see her, and after he had

been speaking to her, and praying, he turned to me and said, "Do you love Jesus ?" I replied, "I wish I did," and my mother said, "I think she does ;" and then he said, "God has said, by the mouth of Solomon, ‘I love them that love Me, and those that seek Me early shall find Me.' The words came with power which I think I shall never forget, and not very long after, Mr. Shenston took for his text, "Fear not, I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name, thou art mine," and I went home rejoicing. While reason lasts I shall never forget that time, the two verses are so very precious to me. I was then about sixteen, and had never had good health. Some time after, one of the members came to see mother, and said she thought I should be better if I went to service. I had before said I would rather sell matches; but now grace had brought me to, "Not my will, but Thine, be done." A place was got for me where there were children, which my mother, knowing that I had always been frightened at being alone, was glad of. And I have often thought of the goodness of God, who, from that time, took from me that fear, by reading about the young man and Elisha in 2 Kings vi. 15-17. Since then I have been enabled to see the paternal care of God.

I was at this place two years, then at Wandsworth a year, where I attended a Baptist Chapel, but did not profit so much as at Alie Street. My mother being taken ill and not expected to live, I went home, and remained with her until her death, which distressed me very much, though I had no doubt of her happiness. After this, I went to live at Hoxton, where I was with Christian people, and stayed with them nine years; and for some time attended the Academy Chapel, afterwards at Mr. Mannering's, at Holywell Mount Chapel. One evening I went to Alie Street to see my youngest sister baptized, and the text Mr. Shenston took (James iv. 17), and the sermon he preached convinced my mistress, who went with me, that she ought to be baptized, which she afterwards was;

and her husband's sister, who, with herself, had long thought it right, but had not attended to it. After this, I went to Mr. Shenston, and offered myself as a candidate for baptism; was received at the church meeting, October 12th, and baptized November 1st, 1829. How I wished I could go from the water to heaven, if it were the will of God. I had seen baptism from a child, and often wished Mr. Shenston might live to baptize me, and it did seem a little singular that he only baptized once afterwards.

After a time, my mind became very distressed about election, from the words, "Many are called, but few chosen." I knew I was a sinner, but feared I might not be an elected one. Sometimes I was cheered and then cast down, fearing that, although I thought I was called, I might not be elected; but kept my sorrow to myself, not telling it to those who might have been the means of

comforting me. Those words, however, were blessed to me. "All that the Father giveth Me shall come unto Me; and him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out." Since then, I have been down, again and again, in a very low place; but often some words of dear Mr. Dickerson's have comforted me. I have not heard much to profit down here for some time, but Mr. Hazelton's sermons you send me are blest to me; one in particular, when I was in great distress; also one of Mr. Bradbury's. So, hitherto the Lord hath helped me. The greatest of my trials and temptations has made me love my precious Saviour; so that, at times, I can say, "If ever I loved Thee, dear Jesus, 'tis now." Of His mercy He saved me; not for works which I have done.-Yours ever,

To Mrs. Cobb.

A. J. SYMONS.

MR. G. W. HAYNES. OUR Brother Haynes was baptized by Mr. G. Webb in 1867, with five others, at Zion Chapel, Goldington Crescent, St. Pancras, where he remained until the church removed to King's Cross, and subsequently to where they now worship. He was chosen to the office of deacon, which he honourably filled until the time of his decease.

Our dear brother was with us, as usual, on Lord's-day morning, 24th December last, apparently well in health, and gave out the hymns. On returning home, after the service, in an omnibus, he was taken with a paralytic fit; removed from the omnibus to a doctor's, and thence conveyed to his residence in a cab, quite helpless, having lost the use of one side. When the intelligence reached me I visited him

and found him prostrate in bed. After a few words, I said, "What a mercy you have a good hope of interest in the Lord Jesus Christ." He replied, "I have no other, 'Other refuge have I none, hangs my helpless soul on Him alone.'" Seeing it was a difficulty for him to speak, after a few words and engaging in prayer, I left, promising to see him again.

On my next visit he seemed somewhat easier, but very drowsy. He conversed a little on the best things, calmly and composedly; expressing a desire, if it was the Lord's will, to be restored again so as to come into His sanctuary. Also a sweet confidence in the Lord Jesus Christ.

When I visited him again, I found him very low, and moaning as if in pain. He shook my hand, and said, “I am

brought low, very low." I replied, "Yes, you are, but not too low, if it be the Lord's blessed will to raise you up again. He bringeth to the grave and lifteth up." To this he said, "I should like, if His will, once again to go into His sanctuary. I answered, "The dear Lord is not confined to temples made with hands, He is ever near His dear people." "I know that,” he said, "but I should like to go again into His sanctuary." I said, "We have often sung together, 'My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness."' He said, "Nothing else will do." I then quoted the dear Saviour's words, "In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you," &c. "Christ is there," he replied, and with sweet assurance, added, "I shall be there." I engaged in prayer, leaving with thankfulness to God to find him in so sweet a frame of mind.

If any man loved the house of God, our dear brother did; he delighted to be there, his place was never vacant. Monday and Wednesday evenings, and Lord's days, he was to be seen, with a smile upon his countenance; ever ready to encourage the pastor, and speak an encouraging word to inquiring ones.

I again called to see him, and found he was getting weaker; his voice being very low, I could not distinctly understand what he said. One of the friends present told me he said, "God had cast him aside from His work" (he meant his work in the sanctuary, for his heart was there). I replied to him, "Though by affliction God may have cast you aside from your work in His house, He will never cast you aside from His love; His covenant stands fast." I said, "Is not Christ exceedingly precious to your soul? and He hath said, 'He that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.'" I then referred to the words I had preached from on the Lord's-day evening previously, Job xxix. 14; dwelling upon afflictions as Divine appointments. He listened attentively, but was too low to reply.

On the Wednesday evening previous

to his death I again visited him; he appeared fast sinking. I observed to him, "You are getting lower and lower, are you not feeling so?" He replied "Yes." I said, "Nearing home, do you fear?" He said "No," and expressed himself as desirous that the Lord would take him to his eternal home. I then spoke a little concerning that glorious abode to which I believed he was hastening, and asked if there was any particular text he would like me to speak from in the event of his death? After a while, he said, "Don't say much about me, tell them I am a poor helpless sinner, saved only by free and sovereign grace." After again breathing out my petitions to God, I left him; expressing my confidence that if we should not meet again in this world, we should in the world of purity and bliss. This proved to be the last interview; for on the Saturday morning, January 20th, soon after two, he was "absent from the body, present with the Lord," aged seventy-two. During his affliction, his brother deacons and several friends visited him. one occasion he desired Pope's ode, "Vital spark," to be read; "Rock of ages shelter me;" and while a friend was reading the last verse of that hymn, he lifted up his hand exclaiming, "Glory, glory, glory." The Lord has, in His all-wise providence, taken from our midst a beloved brother; and, as a church, we deeply lament the loss, but our souls are comforted in feeling assured our loss is his gain.

On

His mortal remains were interred at Highgate Cemetery, January 25th, 1883. Many friends were gathered round the grave, as witnesses of the solemn scene; and left his body in the earthly cavern, in sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection to eternal life. J. D.

THOMAS CRACKNELL. GENERALLY the memoirs of dear departed ones, inserted in the HERALD, tell us of those who have been ornaments and pillars in the militant Church, but such was not the lot of the dear departed

loved one, whose name stands at the head of this paper. Thomas Cracknell was born of godly parents, in the village of Stoke Ash, on January 30th, 1862. Before he could walk, he was carried to Stoke Ash Baptist Chapel, where his parents were members. When old

themselves disciples of the meek and lowly Jesus. When poor Thomas drew very near the end, he greatly wished to see his eldest sister, who was at the time in London; it pleased the Lord to grant him his request. The following is an extract from a letter I received from her since his death :

and there remained for several years; after which he became a regular attendant, not only at our Lord's-day services, but also when we met for social prayer. Somewhere about two years ago, it was thought that a work of grace was begun in him, as he seemed not only anxious to meet with God's people, but also to take pleasure in what he heard; but we think friends were backward in speaking to him while health remained. On Good Friday, April 15th, 1881, he was very much encouraged by two sermons preached at Rishangles Baptist Chapel, by Mr. Denmee, of Hoxne, from Micah v. 5, "And this man shall be the peace," &c. When he returned home, he told his mother how he had enjoyed the services, and also what a struggle he had to go through before he got there, as one of his former companions met him, at the outset of his journey, and persuaded him not to go. From that time he became very much attached to Mr. Denmee. In December, 1881, he was taken ill, when it was soon found that consumption had begun its work. All hopes of recovery were given up long before the end came ; but, although just at the age when manhood is developed, and life seems sweet, sufficient grace was imparted, enabling him to say, "Thy will be done," and it was his delight to attend the house of the Lord when able. He was not a great talker, being of a quiet, reserved temperament; still he was very pleased to have Christian friends visit him, and talk to him about the things that belong to everlasting life. On one occasion he told the writer how very often, in bygone days, he had enjoyed our prayer meetings, even more than the Lord'sday services.

Two of the deceased's sisters, and one brother, were baptized some time before he died, and thereby avowed

me to see my dear brother alive once more, while he could say a few things to me; he could not say much, dear boy, but what he did say, made me feel assured that he was happy, and I do feel, dear, as you say, he is not lost, but gone before.' I do trust, one day, I shall meet him again, though not the least worthy myself; but when I look at Christ, who has shed His blood to save the vilest of sinners-which I know I am-I feel I may hope I shall. I thought my dear brother seemed so humble, on Tuesday. I asked him if he wished to live; he said, 'Not unless it was the Lord's will.' I asked him if he felt happy; he said, 'Yes, he was trusting alone in Jesus.' He asked me when I was going away. I told him on Wednesday, and said to him, 'When we meet again, it will be in that bright world above, where parting is unknown;' he replied, "Yes, "Never, never part again," "Home, sweet home." On the Wednesday, he seemed worse; felt I could not leave him, it was so hard, dear, but the Lord was good to let me see him, dear boy. He saw me weeping, I could not help it. Although I felt leaving him so much, I think I shed more tears of joy, to see him so happy, than of sorrow to leave him, for our loss is his great gain. When he saw me crying, he said, 'Don't cry, dear, I shall soon be home.' I felt he was nearly home then, and so he was."

I

It was not long after his beloved sister bade him farewell, when the summons came. On Thursday, December 21st, his father said to him, "Are you happy? Is your hope fixed on Jesus?" He replied, "Yes," with great emphasis; he was not heard after this to speak, and on Saturday, December 23rd, he very peacefully passed away from earth.

The bereaved parents were filled with