middle of the day, you would withdraw and try, as the Spirit shall enable you, to pour out your heart in prayer to God, that He would bless you with a sense of His love in your heart; and, as you are praying for yourself, pray for me. May God bless you, keep you safe in every snare, preserve you from every danger, and, at the last, take you to Himself.-Ever believe me, Your's affectionately, for His sake,

J. H. EVANS.

TO THE REV. R. D

Hampstead, Oct. 14, 1829.

MY VERY DEAR FRIEND AND BELOVED BROTHER,—Often, very often, are you in my thoughts, because you are much, very much in my heart. I desire much to see you, if it were only for half an hour, just to behold you, to talk with you once again. I want to tell you all about myself, to inquire how things are with you, your wife and children, your sister, your pulpit, your parish.

Such are my thoughts dear, dear D, as I sit down to write to you, earnestly desiring to behold your face again; but then my ingratitude, and the remembrance that weeks, months and months have passed away, and that I have not written once nor answered his letters, nor taken one step to see him, these smite and reprove me. I want one long and free forgiveness of all my faults.

During the last year I was almost pressed out of measure through much occupation, and this was not favourable to me; much occupation requires much grace. One can so easily be buried in the turmoil of active employment, and have very little indeed of Christ in the midst of it all. This I found to my cost. I was much engaged in the work of the Lord, but little comparatively with the Lord in the work; besides this, my mind was overdone, and by June last, things were brought to a point; cease I must for a while. My vacation, so the Lord had willed it, just occurred when I most required rest, and six weeks' quiet proved a blessing indeed. During that interval I had in my visit to dear Mrs. Wall, at Lymington, for a

month, much and frequent intercourse with the Mr. Adams, of whom I once spake to you, and this was signal mercy indeed. I trust and believe that through the rich bounty of my gracious God and Father, my soul received a lift it may never wholly be deprived of. If you ask me, my beloved brother, what that was which proved so peculiar a means of good, it was the development of some most important, influential, and sanctifying principles in the Gospel, and the exhibition of them in his own life. I think the main points impressed on my mind were chiefly relative to the necessity of having the conscience cleansed by the blood of Christ, the importance of short accounts between the soul and God,-in other words, the amazing blessing connected with the confession of sin over the head of the scapegoat, as sin, the minute as well as the greater; and then, under the healthiness of a clean conscience, walking as a child in a cordial surrender.

I am now called away, and I will not put off the conclusion lest there should be long delay.

How is dear Mrs. D- and your sister? Give our kind love. Is there any possibility of seeing you at Christmas? Write to me, when you may, perhaps, be giving us some hopes. A fortnight spent together might, by the blessing of Him who maketh rich, prove a rich blessing.

Ever believe me, dear D, in the midst of all the troubles of time and all the prospects of eternity, in the bonds of Christ, and in the hope of the Gospel,

Your's most truly, most affectionately,

J. H. EVANS.

TO THE REV. M. T

ON THE DEATH OF A BELOVED FRIEND.

Hampstead, Jan. 31, 1831.

years

MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,-Your most kind, though deeply affecting letters, filled our hearts at once with the truest joy and the most unfeigned grief. Our two friends have been for so very, so peculiarly dear to otherwise, when we were thus and the death of the other.

us, that it could not have been informed of the safety of the one, It is one of those periods in life,

where to pause and pray, and praise and wonder and adore, seems in a peculiar and very especial way one's right state and posture of soul. From my inmost heart do I rejoice with you in the safety of your dear wife and that of your dear child. Oh, how good, I may not say, I would not wish to say, how unusually good, no,-how kind, how compassionate, how gentle, how condescendingly tender, according to His accustomed kindness and most undeserved love, has our covenant God and Father showed Himself to her in having given her so affectionate an husband and the life of her child at this juncture. There is such an evident consideration of her, such an individual regard to her personal circumstances, that one cannot, as one has no wish to, overlook it. May she be long spared to you, and you to her, and may the good-will of Him who dwelt in the bush fill your hearts with gratitude and your lips and lives with His praise. The loss of dear H- in a sense, stunned me, indeed both of us, when we first received the intelligence; and yet I had long thought her in a bad, and even precarious, state of health. I was, however, little, if at all, prepared for it. But she is at rest,-free from sin. What a thought, in the presence of Him who died that she might live, and live with Himself for ever,— perfect in His image, as much removed from suffering as if Adam had never sinned, as if she had never borne the image of the earthy, as if she had never known a sinful nature. Shall we not praise for that? Shall the chasm which her death has made at T, and W——, and H, and M, and wherever else she was really known, make us forget that the end has been now accomplished for which all that vast expence of suffering on the part of God's own Son was incurred that this is the beginning of the blessed consummation, the commencement of the everlasting blessedness? Dear, dear H could we desire her back to our poor halfearthly, half-spiritual conversations about the Father's love, the Son's redeeming grace, the Spirit's sanctifying energy, when her pure, unearthly spirit knows more of it all in this little. fortnight than all the saints have known from the first to this present moment, while sojourning in this vale of tears? Perhaps

I might have thought that your dear wife had been favoured with two especial seasons of blessing, in her two solemn approaches to the verge of the invisible world, and that they had proved peculiar mercies to her soul; but how has dear H outstripped her now! How much more does she comprehend of the unfathomable depth of the love of Christ -how much more does she love-how much more is she absorbed in the Divine contemplation! Happy H! we pray for communion, she has it in full possession; we pray for the subduing of corruption, she is free from all, without spot or wrinkle; we pray for conformity to the Divine image, she has it in entire perfection. Rather, my very dear brother, let us pray that all our aims, desires, schemes, endeavours, may be entirely directed to that one spot, that happier, glorious state of being whither our dear H—— has already gone. The letter which we have received from your, by us highly prized and valued, wife, has given us great delight, as it regards some particulars relating to H——'s state of mind. Peace of mind seems to have been enjoyed; and as to her confusedness, it did not, I conceive, arise from any distress of mind, as from the suffering of body, probably aided by opiates. Thanks be to God, she is one of whom, if she had departed in the deepest distress of soul, we could have entertained not a moment's doubt that death was to her unutterable gain.

H

With my very kindest thanks for your wish of seeing us during our Easter vacation, I can at present only say to it, that, if possible, I shall look forward to a day or two, but with no children, as we had better be alone; and look forward to it too with a delight, melancholy it may be in some of its shades, but unfeigned, from the real affection we bear you both. Caroline is writing to your wife, I believe, by this post, and I know not what reply she has given to your kind invitation, but this is the current of my own wishes: I know her's is the same, if the plan be practicable. Give every affectionate regard to her; and when you see dear Mrs. Btell her how much we think of her and her's, and that we do not altogether forget her at a throne of grace, beseeching a good and gracious God to bless, support, and

sanctify her and them, under and by this afflictive bereavement. May the Lord enable us who have children to be as if we had them not, us who have wives as if we had them not, and to wean us from perishing creatures, that, while we thankfully receive them, we may be ready to part with them at His bidding. Ever believe me, my dear Friend and Brother,

Your's, most affectionately in a never-dying Lord,

J. H. EVANS.

TO THE REV. M. T--ON THE DEATH OF HIS WIFE.

London, March 10th, 1831.

MY DEAR FRIEND AND BROTHER,-I felt myself unable to communicate to you yesterday the intelligence of the death of my beloved Caroline, and yet, fearing that the "Record" of to-day might give you and the dear B- family the first information of this most affecting loss, I resolved to make the attempt. Oh, my dear brother, pray, pray, pray for me, that the Lord Jehovah, in whom is everlasting strength, may be my strength, in this hour, when heart and almost flesh seem to fail. This was the verse which, among many others, the Spirit applied with strong consolation to my beloved wife; may it be the support of her widowed husband! Your dear wife, as well as yourself, will however desire to know the particulars. They are briefly as follows:-On Sunday morning week, at nine o'clock, she was in perfect health. We rode in a fly, as it was very wet. She then addressed, as usual, the school. She spoke to the children with unusual solemnity, and exerted herself much, that all might hear. This was the immediate occasion of her death. In those exertions she brought on a rupture. During the prayer-meeting, missing her in her place, and not seeing J, I went up stairs, and found her on the sofa, in much pain. Upon this I instantly sent for medical advice, still no relief. At four, or a little after, I sent for Brodie. He saw her about half-past eight, being from home when I first sent. He felt rather dubious whether it were hernia or not, although on the whole he thought that it was; but said that there was something rather mysterious in it. He called