had the ordering of all. "Then said Boaz unto his servant that was set over the reapers, Whose damsel is this? And the servant that was set over the reapers answered and said, It is the Moabitish damsel that came back with Naomi out of the country of Moab : and she said [mark her modesty again-she asks permission before she ventures to glean], I pray you, let me glean and gather after the reapers among the sheaves: so she came, and hath continued even from the morning until now, that she tarried a little in the house. Then said Boaz unto Ruth, Hearest thou not, my daughter? Go not to glean in another field, neither go from hence, but abide here fast by my maidens: let thine eyes be on the field that they do reap, and go thou after them: have I not charged the young men that they shall not touch thee? and when thou art athirst, go unto the vessels, and drink of that which the young men have drawn. Then she fell on her face, and bowed herself to the ground, and said unto him, Why have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldest take knowledge of me, seeing I am a stranger ?"

Beloved, how sweet is this subject, and how blessed is the language, taken in both its literal and in its spiritual meaning. The diffidence and the retirement and the modesty and the devotion of Ruth, as a woman and a daughter, are beautiful in the contemplation. All these qualities were striking commendations of her character, and stood forth, no doubt, in marked contrast to many by whom she was surrounded, or who were wont to glean in other fields; and such characteristics were not likely to be lost on such a man as we naturally imagine Boaz was. He had, as a man, a penetration and an interest and a devotion that such qualities as Ruth's would attract and win upon and influence. Her very appeal, "Why have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldest take knowledge of me, seeing I am a stranger ?" would only serve to increase his esteem, call forth his admiration, and rivet his affections. It has been well said, that "chastity and modesty form the best dowry a parent can bestow." Beyond all question, Ruth had that leading feature in her character, of which the apostle Peter speaks where he testifies of "the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price." Solomon speaks of such where he says, "She openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness."

In the spiritual sense, however, there is peculiar blessedness both in this narrative and in the language before us. The Lord leading His people forth from old haunts and former pleasures and dependencies by means of famine and a felt destitution and discomfort: putting it into their hearts to seck-to follow after-to cleave unto His people; hovering about, and at length venturing into the Gospel field, there tremblingly and timidly to glean after the reapers. To mingle with the gleaaners, mid hope and fear, and

desire to be like them, and to share their privileges and advantages. At length to be addressed by none less than the heavenly Boaz Himself, and that in such tender, loving, compassionate terms. Oh, well may she wonder, and well may she ask, "Why have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldest take knowledge of me-even me-seeing I am a stranger ?"

Such, dear reader, will be the great wonder of the skies, and the everlasting inquiry of the redeemed in glory! THE EDITOR.

St. Luke's, Bedminster, June 27, 1868.

"THERE REMAINETH A REST TO THE PEOPLE OF GOD."

HAIL, holy day of heavenly rest,
When man and beast from labour rest!
When quiet reigns throughout the
land,

And God comes down to speak with

man.

O holy day, when man may trace
The pathway to that holy place,
Where God with man delights to dwell,
The spot where souls in union tell
Of joys and hopes in glowing strain;
And that in Christ their all they gain,
For strength to fight life's battle
through,

They ask, and thus obtain it too.
Thus worshipping before God's throne,
They love to think they're not alone;
That in that heaven, near or far,
Which sin and death can never mar,
Bright angels, in a glorious throng,
Join with them, too, in ceaseless song.
Sweet sounds of adoration rise,
Resounding echoes fill the skies.
Thus heaven and earth in one unite
Wilford.

In praising God, their joy, their might.
Man, on this holy day of rest,

In thought e'en now seems with the
bless'd.

Imagination loves to dream,

And catch, perchance, a passing beam
From out that glorious land of light,
Where all is peace, where all is bright.
They think of friends they loved to
meet,

With whom they knelt at Jesus' feet;
Yet now departed to their rest,
To be with Jesus ever blest.
O holy, blessed day, arise,
When praise shall rend both earth and
skies;

When saints below and saints above
May join in one their praise of love;
When holy joy, eternal rest,
Shall be for ever for the blest;
When labours hard and trials sore
Shall then have passed for evermore;
When one unceasing song of praise
The sainted saints to God shall raise.
E. L.

THE CONTRAST; OR, MOMENTARY AFFLICTION AND

ETERNAL GLORY!

"For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."-2 COR. iv. 17.

WHATEVER We suffer here will not merit any reward hereafter; therefore we may gather from this passage that the trials we have to pass through in this world are to purify us, and make us more fit to enjoy the glory in heaven; and that the more we suffer here for Christ's sake, the more exceedingly shall we enjoy the blessedness to be revealed. As the Captain of our salvation was made perfect through suffering, so are we, who are soldiers of the cross, to pass through the same path to our rest above. (Rom. viii. 18; 1 Peter v. 10.)

н н 2

Wayside Notes.

REMINISCENCES OF VILLAGE PREACHING.

"And Jesus went about the villages teaching."-MATT. ix. 35.

To a Christian whose lot in life is cast amidst commercial activity, it is no slight relief and privilege to be allowed sometimes to open his mouth for Christ, and, out of the abundance of his heart,

"Tell to others that surround,

What a dear Saviour he has found."

Such labour of love will bring with it conflicting feelings; sometimes he will find much to cast him down, and he will go forth with a heavy heart, but at other times the little pulpit in the humble house of prayer will be a sacred spot to him, and none other than "the gate of heaven."

Beloved, as we have advanced to nearly the end of the month without having any subject formally laid upon our minds, we have sat down in the cool of a summer's evening thinking it might be profitable, and we trust Christ-honouring, if we let our thoughts wander back, and our pen cluster together a few facts experienced in connexion with village preaching. We know it is sometimes asked, What right have business men to preach at all? We can only respond, Business men did so in the apostle's time; for Matthew was a tax-gatherer, Luke was a physician, and Peter a fisherman; and the order in the Church as laid down by the Lord Jesus Christ Himself and given us by the apostle Paul is, "And He gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ;" and we think it would be well if this scriptural order was better observed. We know one Baptist cause under the pastorate of a man of God which sends forth, Sabbath after Sabbath, upwards of twelve lay helpers to preach the Gospel in the surrounding villages where the people are too poor to pay for a regular ministry, and the blessing that redounds to the parent Church is remarkable.

But the writer's plan for many years has been to go forth free of all denominations wherever the Lord has been pleased to open doors, determining "to know nothing among men save Jesus Christ and Him crucified;" consequently, we have steered clear of much fleshly contention we could not otherwise have avoided, and been privileged to preach the word in national schoolrooms and rustic barns; in chapels and cottages; in a rector's kitchen and gentleman's drawing-room, as well as under the blue canopy of heaven with the people grouped about upon the village green.

We have said that we have spoken in the name of Jesus in "a rector's kitchen." Yes, and memorable seasons they were. A venerable clergyman, now in glory, would, on a Sabbath eve, throw open the large kitchen of his hall for the preaching of the Gospel, the church being far distant and without gas; and a rare sight it was to see that aged saint sitting meek as a child, listening to a layman testify of what he has felt concerning the word of life, and at the end rising and pronouncing the benediction, while the warm shake of the hand betokened approval. We heard of more than one who was born again in that kitchen, and of many who had their souls refreshed and comforted; and who can gainsay such a work, when fruit unto God thus appears?

We recollect another cheering circumstance which occurred in the same neighbourhood. We had engaged to speak at a rural village some ten miles distant from home. It was an anniversary meeting, to be held in a barn, and was a season much looked forward to by the villagers, who came far and wide, flocking like doves to their windows. As we were walking the horse up a hill we overtook a poor but good man, whose prayers had often melted us elsewhere. "Well, master John, how are you?" we said. "It is a good two miles further to the meeting; will you have a lift ?" The old man respectfully touched his hat, and accepted our proffered help. In the course of our conversation he said, "You were made a great blessing to my soul, sir, some time ago." "Indeed; well, God be praised; and how was it?" "Well, sir, you were led to speak from these words, ' And the door was shut;' and you said, 'Now, friends, which will it be with you? Shall you be shut out of heaven, to be for ever with the lost in the realms of despair, or have you the sweet assurance of faith that you will be shut in with Jesus, for ever to realize fulness of joy ?' This led me to soulexamination," said the old man," and such a sweet liberty was enjoyed, and I did think, I do believe, my blessed Lord will not live in heaven without me." The good old saint then told us with much humility of speech how that the Lord had made him instrumental in leading three of his neighbours to the foot of the cross; two were in glory, and the third "a living epistle" read and known of all, by whom she was surrounded. Truly does our God "take the weak things of the earth to confound the mighty," &c. You may judge, dear reader, this conversation gladdened our heart, and gave us a subject for the people in the barn that evening.

There was another circumstance in connexion with that meeting we shall not soon forget. The villagers to our suprise had obtained the consent of the rector of the parish to take the chair. Though a perfect gentleman and scholar, we knew him to be a man of the world, entering with avidity into field-sports, and especially fond of fox-hunting. We felt nervous and timid on such ground, yet were blessedly helped of the Lord to speak boldly for Christ. To our surprise a week or so afterwards, meeting that clergyman, he stopped us and in the most cordial and kind manner thanked us for coming into his parish, as he said, "to do his parishioners good." We could not help putting up a prayer for him that the Lord would in infinite mercy touch his heart.

But the servant of the Lord who thus goes forth in his Master's name will meet sometimes with things that are far from pleasing to the flesh. We recollect starting on a bitterly cold Sabbath morning to an out-of-the-way hamlet eight miles from home; the snow was on the ground, and the roads very slippery, so that, arriving late at the little house of God, we were obliged to give the reins to a rough man with dishevelled hair, and at once enter the chapel, where the people had already assembled. We had only just begun to expound the Scriptures when the following circumstance occurred. The rough man finding that his master had taken the key of the stable with him into the chapel, came to the door, and putting his dishevelled head therein called out at the top of his voice, "Muster Johnson, have you got the key?" Surely the schoolmaster is much needed in some of our agricultural districts.

Another thing that the servant of God will find far from fleshpleasing is the intense hatred of the professor to the truth; and therefore when determined to preach it, he will be subject to much bitterness of spirit, especially from those who are in authority. We recollect at

one place we were accustomed to go to, there was a man of power, "the words of whose mouth were smoother than butter, but war against the truth was in his heart, and a drawn sword in his hand." We knew him with all his profession to be a man living in sin, and therefore used great plainness of speech. No wonder under such circumstances that the doctrines of grace were unpalatable to him. At another village we were much pained at the worldly conversation of a farmer, who was the principal supporter of the place of worship. His farm, the crops, his horses, and sheep, were the chief topic of conversation between the services; and, when we tried to stop the unhallowed conversation, and put in a word of the importance of eternal things, himself and friends were tongue-tied until able to get back again to the old subject. Oh, how depressed did we again and again go to that spot; and yet there was one thing that cheered us, namely, the uplifted and animated countenance of one poor woman, who we were satisfied before we knew her, was a lover of Jesus and came hungering for the bread of life. Oh, how she seemed to hang upon our words, and nod assent to our statements.

We found we had not misjudged her, and many a sweet talk by the way have we had with her in her cottage home. She was a deeply-tried widow woman, her boys were all far away the other side of the Atlantic, but she often said, "I believe the Lord will yet bring them to Jesus;" 'They were children of a mother's many prayers.' Again, in village preaching, many a time we have been called, in the providence of God, to go among strangers. At first the usual Englishman's reserve prevails; fresh faces make us ill at ease, Satan suggests that they are expecting great things from the creature, and will surely be disappointed, and one's heart begins to misgive, questioning if it be the right path at all; but the Lord the Spirit comes to the aid, reminds one in whose name the visit is made, even Jesus, and at that precious sound fears are dispelled.

One such season we can especially call to mind. In a certain household, far distant from home, we did not seem to be received with the warmth of feeling which poor human nature expected; there seemed a shyness. After a repast, the master of the household proposed a walk in the garden. In a quiet nook he began to tell us of the Lord's work of grace upon his soul, and of His leadings in Providence, and we soon felt no longer a stranger, but, on comparing notes, could talk and weep and rejoice together. The spell was broken, and through that conversation on the Saturday evening, we became in the Spirit on the Lord's-day. Again, in our wanderings we have been much struck with the aptness and suitability of

THE POOR MAN'S PRAYER.

We had been for some time desiring to visit a poor miner who, we had been told, was "rich in faith and an heir of glory.' An opportunity presenting itself we found out his home; it was indeed a humble one. A little girl opened the door, and, in answer to inquiries, said, "Grandfather will be in presently." We sat down on a rickety stool, when the little girl began to empty the ash pan, causing a cloud of dust to cover everything. We begged her to desist, and soon after the old miner, returning home, gave us a hearty welcome. Nothing would do but we must have tea; so going to a cupboard he took out of a rusty iron pot some leaves which strongly resembled herbs, and, pouring hot water upon them, set the mixture upon the hob, then reaching from a hook above a piece