like blazing comets, after a flaming appearance for a short time, end their career at Stepney on other lore in the dark and unfathomable abyss of Socinians. Birmingham and High Wycombe can throw in the finishing shades: all the foundations are out of course, with scarcely a Job's messenger left to proclaim the evil.

Men, brethren, and fathers, bear with me, and you, by beloved Editor, put on bowels of forbearance towards one who, from the pitiless storm of a long campaign, has but a few bleached hairs left upon that head which ere long must rest upon "a lap of earth." To me the cause of truth is dear, and becomes more so as the horizon around darkens, and the combined force of its enemies are raised against it. "The ark of God is safe;" yet I tremble for its continuance amongst us, perceiving as I do the awful aspect of things. But the shreds of my stall, which some have so kindly wished me not only to turn over, but to turn out, are of so peculiar a kind as to exclude, I fear, their exhibition in the arcana of our peace-loving brother, the Editor ;* and Crispin's pride of heart is such as not to desire the employment of filling his waste basket.

Suffice it to say, all the zest of an old man, with his wonted cholar, is at your service; and all the warmth of his frigid heart glows towards you. These are not times to allow veterans to sleep at their post, much less those of Zion, to retire into winter quarters, though the enemy's shots from his entrenchment might enter our port-holes. Ye that are strong, cease not to wield the habergeon against our common foe; and if, by a misadventure, here and there one might escape your hands, I will closely pursue them with the din of my hammer and lapstone, boring them with the awl of truth, not leaving them until, by the aid of bristles and thread, they are sewed up securely within the envelope of their own shame and confusion.

Farewell, farewell, my brethren and companions, never yield or give up.

From my Stall, Amen Corner.

CRISPIN.

TIDINGS FROM THE NORTH.

To the Editor of the Gospel Magazine.

MY VERY DEAR SIR, AND BROTHER IN THE Lord,

I feel rather diffident in writing to you now, for the first time, but your affectionate appeal made to the friends of gospel truth, on behalf of the GOSPEL MAGAZINE (and most certainly none but such will ever

Father Crispin, this is hardly fair-play. When have we denied you? We are advocates for peace, certainly. But to whom, with whom, and on what grounds? See Ps. xxix. 11; lxxxv. 8; cxxii. 6. Is. lvii. 19; lxvi. 12. Jer. xxix. 11. John xiv. 27. Gal. v. 22. Eph. ii. 14; iv. 3.-ED.

feel interested in its wide circulation, or in the welfare of its Editor), has induced me to make the attempt; and I sincerely hope that this small mite, although sent by a pilgrim traveller, whose lot is cast in the remote and cold regions of North America, may tend in some degree to warm your heart.

If you deem the annexed Poem worthy a place in your excellent Magazine, it is at your service, if it has never before been inserted. I am at present deprived of the means of ascertaining whether it has or not, as the volumes of the Magazine for 1841-4 were either lost or stolen from the wreck of a vessel that was cast away on the shores of Nova Scotia, on her way to this place: but I expect that this vacancy in my library will soon be filled up.

My ever-faithful and constant correspondent, the Rev. Samuel Lane, of Hull, has sent me the volumes of the GOSPEL MAGAZINE from time to time; so that I have the work complete from 1800 to the present time, with the exception of the above-named four volumes. This gentleman has also sent a great many other good works, and some thousands of gospel tracts (the first that were ever introduced into this place), which, together with many others of the some description, sent by the late venerable Dr. Hawker, and other friends in England, have been widely circulated, for the comfort and edification of the Lord's people in this part of the world; and I am happy to add, that the Lord hath vouchsafed his blessing to the reading of these works in a wonderful manner. I have Mr. Irons' Portrait, and his works, and portions from them in or after our meetings are often read. The chapters in Jazer, entitled “Election, and the Covenant of Grace," letters 3 and 4, were read to the brethren after the meeting closed, last Sabbath evening. I sat under his ministry with great satisfaction for six weeks, about twenty-nine or thirty years since, and should like to hear him again. Come over, dear Mr. Irons, before your warfare closes, and blow your trumpet, and bear your testimony for Christ, against Antichrist, on the shores of the New World. I have a little chapel ready for you (and there are several others that you can have the use of) built and kept up entirely at my own expense, in which the service of God has been conducted now for about twenty-seven years, except only when a faithful man of God happens to be in the way, and then we get an occasional sermon, which is sometimes the case, particularly of late, as there are six or seven such men now in the province, most of whom have recently arrived either from Scotland or Ireland, and chiefly belong to the different orders of the Presbyterians. Now, the brethren at Camberwell will, beyond all question, most cheerfully consent to this humble request, particularly as they are so rich in gifts, and are surrounded by so many talented men that would supply Mr. Irons' place, during his absence, for ten or twelve weeks to America.

You see that my sheet is nearly full, so that I have no space left to write anything about the divinity generally taught in America, and the proselyting system so artfully and industriously pursued, and to a

great extent carried out by a set of crafty, cunning, and designing men, under the garb of a professiou of religion, carrying with them the contagion of modern Popery and free-will, through the length and breadth of this land of hypocrisy.

But be of good courage, for God will deliver his own church, and glorify her at last in the heavenly world. Fight on then, ye able veterans, on Zion's walls; preach on; write on; all is well; the haven of eternal rest is right before you.

The brethren here join with me in sending their warmest Christian regards to you, my dear Sir, and to all the servants of God, whose productions adorn the pages of the GOSPEL MAGAZINE, and to all the faithful in Christ Jesus everywhere. Farewell! May the Lord send you every blessing, both temporal and spiritual, so prays your unworthy brother in the faith of the true Gospel,

Carleton Mills, St. John, New Brunswick,

North America, Nov. 21, 1846.

GEORGE BOND.

A RESPONSE FROM THE WEST:

A POEM. BY GEORGE BOND.

Affectionately Presented to all true Protestants.

Occasioned by reading the Reports of the Two great Protestant Meetings, held at Exeter Hall, London, on Saturday, June 20, and Saturday, July 11, 1835; to prove to Protestants of all denominations, by authentic Documents, the real Tenets of the Church of Rome, as now held by the Roman Catholic Bishops and Priests of Ireland.

"And I heard another voice from heaven, saying, Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues."-Rev. xviii. 4.

And he shall speak great words against the Most High, and think to change times and laws; and they shall be given into his hand until a time and times, and the dividing of time. But the Judgment shall sit, and they shall take away his dominion, to consume and to destroy it unto the end. And the kingdom and dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under the whole heaven, shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most High, whose kingdom is an everlasting kingdom." -Dan. vii. 25-26.

* At both these meetings Lord Kenyon presided, surrounded by a great number of the nobility and gentry, and among the persons who took part in the proceedings, were Drs. Holloway and Cooke, and the Rev. Messrs. Daly (now Bishop of Cashel), M'Ghee, and O'Sullivan.

All hail! ye heav'n-inspired champions bold,
Th' alarm at last is made through Britain's isles,
Rous'd like Elijah in the days of old,

Regarding not your foes' deceptive smiles.
Clad in the mask of false pretended love,
With fair disguise to gain the Civil power,
The Roman beast for many years hath strove,
In hope to see that greatly-wish'd for hour;
When England's Sovereign to the Roman See,
Shall bow submissive, and the Crown resign
Το popes and priests, who dwell beyond the sea,
And soon to rule and govern will combine,

And from their councils to that peaceful land,
Their thundering bulls and mandates quick will send,
With swarms of priests and bishops to command,
Who, warm for Popish errors will contend.

By ruthless hands the dungeon, rack, and fire,
Would be employ'd, as in dark ages past;
Those cruel tyrants burn with strong desire,
To slay the faithful, while the world shall last.
The martyr's grave again would open wide,

Should things to such a fearful crisis come;
The scattered flock in dens and caves would hide
To wait their exit to the world to come.

Shall British Zion's beauty be defac'd,

And faithful watchmen from their posts be torn ? Her towers and bulwarks to the ground be raz'd, And all her worshippers be left forlorn?

O, ye who have old England's cause at heart,
Firm by her glorious Constitution stand;
And from the Church's standards ne'er depart,
While treach'rous foes are found on every hand.

And ye, my friends, who from the Church dissent,
Who to proud Rome have lately lent your aid,
For what you've done you surely will repent,
When gathering storms will make your hearts afraid.

By documents authentic it is prov'd,

That Popish laws have never been repeal'd, But to this day by Papists stand approv'd, Though this by them is artfully concealed.

If once the summit of their wish were given,
Intol'rance would, in all its rigour, reign;
Poor Protestants would from their homes be driven,
For bloody days would then return again.

The monarch, and his counsellors, and peers,
Must quick recant, or from their seats be hurl'd;
To try men's souls with dark foreboding fears,
The Popish banners wide would be unfurl'd.

The martyrs' bones with care would then be sought,
To gratify the beast's revengeful ire,

Because in Zion's quarrel brave they fought,
And shouted victory in the burning fire.

Let legislators scrutinize with care,

The laws they sanction, lest they should betray
Their country to the hands of those who swear,
That heretics from earth they'll sweep away.

Repair sometimes to Smithfield's hallow'd ground,
And think of the heroic deeds of those,

Who in the strength of Zion's king were found,
Firm and unmov'd in spite of all their foes.

Against the claims of foreign potentates,

And all the errors of the Church of Rome,
Let all who sound th' alarm in Zion's gates
Contend, though storms arise, and billows foam.
Follow those faithful heroes of the cross,

*

Who with distinguish'd lustre bright have shone,
And counted all things here but dung and dross,
But now are singing near Jehovah's throne.

Arise, O God! and plead thy Israel's cause,
And from her borders fan her foes away;

Deliver from the iron grasp of those,

Thy scatter'd flock, who grieve both night and day.

O happy day, when all the ransom'd throng,
Shall meet at last in the pure realms of love,
And join to sing in sweet harmonious song,

The grace that sav'd, and brought them safe above.

Patriarchs, prophets, apostles, reformers, martyrs, and all the faithful followers of the Lamb, who have lived in different ages of the world; peace to their memory; happy souls, their warfare is ended, and they are now enjoying the full fruition of God and the Lamb in the heavenly world!

"And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death."-Rev. xii. 11.