VERY one likes to be remembered. How frequently are the expressions used, "You will not forget me," or "You will think of me sometimes." And especially as we grow old, how we like to be remembered by those we have known in our early years. Reader, possibly in your early days your soul was stirred within you when listening to the declarations of God's mercy and love to sinners. You realised that Christ Jesus died for you; that on Him your iniquity was laid; and, with “great joy" and "great peace," and reciprocal love in your heart, your zeal was quickened, and you did many things to prove your love to Him; yea, you felt you could not do enough to please Him. You thought of His love from morn to eve; you talked of Him to others, and your heart burned within you when you heard of Him in the pulpit, or read of Him in the closet. But it may be your zeal has grown cold, your prayers languid, and your ear heavy when His name is mentioned. The world has stepped between you and your Saviour, and all is changed. You are not pleased that this is so far otherwise, you would give anything for the old days to come back. Possibly you have probed deep into your heart to find out the cause of your declension, and you have "done many things" to regain the light and joy in which you once lived for a while; but all seems to no purpose.

Dear reader, possibly the unsatisfactory state of your soul may be occasioned by the fact that you have been looking too much to yourself, too little to Jesus; too much to your doings, too little to what Christ has done. Suffer the word of exhortation. Let us urge you to go back to first principles. Look out from yourself; dwell on the old promises of God's free mercy and love in Christ. God has not changed in His love towards you; He remembers you still; His lanquage towards you is the same as to His ancient people when they had forgotten Him: "I remember thee, the kindness of thy youth, the love of thine espousals, when thou wentest

after me in the wilderness." 1 Yes, our gracious God does not forget the old days; He has remembered thee all through thy declension, and, for the sake of His dear Son. is now pleading with thee and urging thee to remember Him. Oh, backsliding Christian! ere thy last day comes, believe in, realize again, and apply to yourself, the love of thy Saviour; His all-sufficient sacrifice, His perfect righteousness, His free and sovereign grace, His complete suretiship. "The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all." The acceptance of this truth will again bring light and-joy and peace to your soul, and you shall find the promise true, "At eventide it shall be light."

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I know that my Redeemer liveth."

KNOW that my Redeemer lives, when, in temptation's hour,

He prays for me that faith fail not, and saves from Satan's power. I know it when, with humble trust, we seek the house of prayer, And feel, with deep and holy awe, His unseen presence there.

I know it when in floods of grief help seems too long delayed,
O'er the dark waves a Voice is heard,

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'Tis I; be not afraid." His dying love I see,

I know it when, 'neath bread and wine,
And hear, by faith, those pleasing words, "In memory of Me."
I know it when, upon some grave, tears fall in anguish vain,

I hear Him say my lost one yet shall rise and live again.
And, oh, that I may know it when my spirit fleeteth fast,
And earth, with all its cares and joys, away from me hath passed,
Redeemer, through the pangs of death, oh, let me hear Thee say,
"I live, and thou in Paradise shalt rest with Me this day."

With Jesus, without the Camp.

HE grand love of God in Jesus Christ, the magnificent condescension of deigning to live amongst men, in a body like our own, and voluntarily dying for us, this is the great source and motive of our love to Him. For us Jesus suffered without the gate. He

1 Jeremiah ii. 2.

first left the glories of heaven for earth, and then again withdrew, as without the camp of general society, continuing homeless and poverty-stricken for the love of His own people. In return, the path of true discipleship has, in all ages, been without the camp, outside the vanities and prevailing intercourse of the evil world. Does the professing Christian desire really to love the Lord who did so much for him? If so, will he go without the camp, away from the too-absorbing pursuit of money, ease, or ambition? If so, will she go without the camp, and be willing to appear singular in the eyes of the world of fashion and pleasure? The blessed path is apt to wind in humble, quiet places, away from popular haunts. Its atmosphere of prayer, of self-denying sympathy, of resolved dedication to the Lord, and of true insight into the realities of eternity, has but little in common with that of the almost unintermitting whirl of lives devoted to business, to pleasure, or even to purely intellectual pursuits, apart from the sustained seeking after Christ's love and presence. The Christian's watchword must therefore be, "With Christ, without the camp."

The London Cabmen.

A TRUE STORY IN CONNECTION WITH THE LATE LONDON

MISSION.

RIVING about in the cruel storm,

DRE

Or standing still in the rain,
Sick or well, he must brave it all,
And the cabman will not complain.

Bearing the cold of the winter night,
The heat of the summer sun,
Bearing it bravely, and resting not

When other men's work is done.

Sheltering many from cold and wet,
Saving, indeed, some lives;

Yet who gives a kindly or grateful thought
To the cabman as he drives?

No money can pay when a man risks health
To save another from ill-

Priceless indeed is a fearless heart

And a strong undaunted will.

We have not done all when our fare is paid,
If as Christians we strive to live,

There are ills from which we must shelter him,
And our best protection give.

Worse than the fury of the storm

Are passions that rage within,
More hurtful far than the biting frost
Is the deadly breath of sin.

Yet hard indeed it must often be,

Far harder than we think,

When the body is chilled and the mind deprest,
To resist the tempter Drink.

Trials of which we little know

Must beset the cabman's life;

And a hero is he who in Christ's great Name
Can conquer in the strife.

A lady desired to help the men

On the rank near her own hotel.

(Mark what one traveller may do
Who uses one talent well.)

Daily she sent, through the mission week,
To each cabman an hour's fare,

And begged he would join his fellow-men
Who met for praise and prayer.

And seventeen went in company

Each night to the house of the Lord;

Side by side at their own desire
They sat to hear the Word.

Throughout the building joyfully

Their earnest voices rang;

And sweet to the godly must have been
Their voices as they sang!

"I enjoyed it much."

"Good news we have heard."
"I wish I could just afford
To refuse this fare." "It gives one heart
To hear about the Lord."

So spoke the men, and when Sunday came
They received no fare, but still

They went to the service as before,

And joined with right good-will.

And the good news spread, as good news must
When faithfully believed.

"There are three of our men in the hospital,"
Said one of the cabmen, grieved

That they did not hear, as he had done,
The news of the Saviour's love:
"Couldn't you go to them and try
Their burdens to remove?

"Couldn't you speak to them of sin?

They are wild, like the most of us." Oh, why are the saints so slow to help When sinners are pleading thus ?

On the first night of the services

The cabmen went alone,

But the news which had comforted their hearts
They wanted to make known.

On the second night they filled their cabs

With the poorest they could find,

The lame, the old, the little ones,
The ignorant and blind.

A goodly company it was
To gather in for prayer;

Alas, that in a Christian land

Such gatherings should be rare!

Not for the whole, but for the sick,

Is the physician sent,

And to the outcast and the poor
Our dear Redeemer went.

Oh, if we follow Him indeed,

We shall love and try to win

The poor lost souls that are perishing

In the deep abyss of sin.

There is power still in the name of Christ,

Power to raise the weak;

How is it that we have no faith

Of that holy name to speak?

See" London City Mission Magazine," Abril 1874.