His responsibility is to work; our responsibility is to trust. His responsibility is to work in; ours to rest in Him, that we may work out only what He works in. In other words, we are instruments, not agents; and our first business is to be in union and communion with Him who is the Alpha and the Omega of our spiritual progress. It wonderfully simplifies our Christian living when we see that all our prayer, watchfulness, and earnestness are ever to be directed to this one end-to abide in Christ. Abiding in Him we are holy; abiding in Him we are victorious, for, as we have just seen in Rev. iii., when we abide in Him, He (who has been triumphant over every foe) comes in to make His abode with us. It may be we have not seen how complete the victory Christ secures to His people really is. Much depends upon our apprehending clearly the work that He has wrought. Courage, we are told, is a temper of mind that duly estimates the difficulties it has to meet, but is incapable of yielding to them; and when we ask how such a frame of mind is generated, we are assured that it is by a constant contemplation of the means of success that it is created in the soul. If this be so, the reason why Christian courage is so often wanting is sufficiently explained the believer takes his eye off his Saviour and the completeness of His triumph; and, losing faith in them, what wonder that his fears prevail? Would we be not dumb, driven cattle, but heroes in the Christian fight, let us keep our eyes on our Leader. "O, our God, we have no might against this great company that cometh against us; neither know we what to do: but our eyes are upon Thee" (2 Chron. xx. 12).

In memoriam.

JEAN SOPHIA PIGOTT, (Author of "A Royal Service, and Other Poems.") THERE are not many who have the power "to sing the Lord's song," both for themselves and also so to express it that others can catch the strain, and find that it is the echo of their own heart's longing or praise. Jean Sophia Pigott was one of the few, and she has left us such an inheritance of song that we cannot let her slip out of our reach into the presence of the King, without a word of tender, grateful memory.

After most of her hymns and poems were written, -after the Brighton Convention of 1875-she had

a very severe illness, from which she was wonderfully raised in answer to prayer. But its effects never fully left her, and in her quiet home in Ireland she was called to the service of which she had sung before-" the work of sitting still."

"Then think not thou art kept within the shadow
Of long inactive years,

Without some purpose infinitely glorious,

Some harvest sown in tears."

But though she was thus withdrawn from outwardly joining in the strong current of the deepening teaching on the life in Christ, she fully felt its force. Nothing of it was unknown to her and from her isolation she followed deeply and closely every grand unfolding of His mind. Occasionally she was able to come and join with us, and in 1879 she was at Keswick. She was then searching into the Lord's mind about the healing of the body, and from that time forward she continued steadfast in her conviction that it was His will that His children should be whole.

It was deeply teaching to see her strong faith grasping this, and clinging to it, simply on the ground of what she saw in His word. In spite of what she saw to be His will not being fully worked out in her own case she clung to it. She was certain, and nothing shook her. Yet it did not make her impatient, or fret against the long-continued inactivity; and she could say-

"We praise Him for these lonely hours of waiting,
And trusting look above,

Till all the hush and silence of their service
Grows luminous with love."

Others could say it of her too, and see that in her it was His love-light which lit her life. One who saw her this year at Keswick says:-"I shall never forget how she made me promise, in her most solemn manner, that I would unfold to His love, as the petals of a flower unfold to the sunlight."

It was such perfect trust in His Will, for it was trust in the dark; and she went on loving His Will even when it did not prove exactly what she reckoned. Her strong spirit searched on bravely into its depths, daring to face all it meant, and then leaving the fulfilment to Him. With many, the spirit would have failed and flagged in such a frail body as hers was; but, instead of fretting against her prison, and bruising her wings against the fettering cage, her spirit soared and expanded in His Will, and she could truly say to the close

"Thy beautiful sweet will, my God,

It holds in its sublime embrace My captive will: a gladsome bird,

Prisoned in such a realm of grace."

One who loved her deeply saw her on October 6th and 7th, and wrote rejoicing that she was much 6th and 7th, and wrote rejoicing that she was much better and stronger. Five days after that, the call came. The Lord did not try her long-tested faith with even ever so short an illness; but in one moment He lifted her over the threshold, to which she lived so near. "The Master is come, and calleth for thee. As soon as she heard that, she arose quickly, and came unto Him." Yes, indeed, "quickly." With one "look of great surprise she fell, and, with two or three sighs, she was gone! It was translation: it was simply true of her, “I turned to see the voice that spake with

me!"

Her last act had been to write a letter in which she spoke of her want of faith-just the point we felt was so strong in her--but spoke, too, of trusting to His facts, and being "blind to her own experiences."

We cannot grudge her to Him! though for ourselves there is a longing that we could have had her longer; but we are glad that

"For her are now all shadows fled away,
Save the sweet shadow of the Master's face."

M. C. LOWDELL.*

"OUR people die well," wrote Wesley a hundred years ago; and, thank God, the same may be written of some of other confessions who have delighted to seek the fulness of blessing in these days also. Amongst these was the devoted woman whose name appears at the head of this paper.

From "the dear Oxford days" downwards, her commanding form and face-a face which betokened the calm of God within the soul—were familiar at many Conferences; and in her own beautiful home, near Brighton, she loved to gather around her, above all others, those who were teaching or were seeking a life of entire trust.

I am in rhapsodies of joy, because I am not; but it is all peace, perfect peace." "There are no doubts or fears?" one asked. "None," she replied, "because He keeps me. If it were our keeping it

would be a sorry hope, but Thou wilt keep' is the promise, and it is indeed fulfilled.” "You are resting in His love?" said another, when the waters were being reached: "In His arms," was the sweet reply.

Peace like this was surely very nigh to joy; and, continual rapture the earthern vessel could not bear. But the fragrance was continual, especially the con

fiding love to the dear Lord, and the constant longing to be altogether hidden in Him. To words of trembling gratitude for the help she had been to us, she replied, "If ever one has been the least bit of

use, it has been not of me, but of Jesus ;" and again, "If there's anything nice in me it is Jesus."

It was a triumphant moment when she found that she was going in to see the King. The clock pointed to midnight, November the 4th, and the early morning of the 5th when the summons came. With a farewell look of gratitude to her nurses, and of affection to her daughters in God, she said, “‹ All mine are thine.' I cannot take you all with me, but promise me that you will come-say it, 'Jesus, only Jesus'-say it." And they said two verses of the hymn she was so fond of-we sang it at her grave— "Oh! Jesus, oh! Jesus, how vast Thy love to me, I'll bathe in its full ocean to all eternity;

But wending on to Heaven this all my song shall be-
I was a guilty sinner, but Jesus died for me.

"In glory! in glory! 'for ever with the Lord,'

I'll tune my harp, and with the saints I'll sing with sweet accord,

But when I strike the golden strings, this all my song shall be,

I am a ransomed sinner, for Jesus died for me."

After this the pain and weakness increased, but till unconsciousness closed her lips she continued to utter the name "Jesus." Almost her last audible word was "Home-home;" and once again the silence was broken by words of welcome saying, "My God," "quite satisfied."

All was bright as heaven could make it for us in a world sore darkened by such a loss. The Sunday morning broke in beauty over the home "where the dead was laid." So did the Friday morning, November 12th, when her pastor, the Rev. E. L. Roxby, and also the Rev. J. G. Gregory, the Rev.

J. B. Figgis, and Mr. Henry Edwards, in the presence of a large gathering, committed her to the grave. As bright was the next Sunday when, in churches of Conformist and Nonconformist, reference was made to the loving and holy life that was thus closed.

As we think of her we are reminded of what we heard one say of " a good minister of Jesus Christ" at Ebley. "I sometimes have my doubts and fears, but I knew Benjamin Parsons. I get drooping and despondent, but-I knew Benjamin Parsons. I am surrounded with temptations to scepticism, but-I knew Benjamin Parsons." So throughout the length and breadth of these lands there are many who will have their confidence in Christ, their belief in the Christian verity, their assurance that there is a Holy Ghost, deepened and intensified by the memory of her of whom we speak. Friends, if our faith flags, if our lamps burn low, if anything arises to chill our hearts and tempt us to doubt our God, let us return to the fight, return to the faith, urged by a thousand arguments, and by this:"We knew dear Mrs. Lowdell."

too.

J. B. F.

MESSAGES OF PEACE FOR THE AFFLICTED.

II.

MY DEAR M--I have come to this conclusion, that the only way to be always "at home" is to have our home in God. We can never be banished from that abiding-place, and God will take care that we shall always have somewhere to be, or else, you see, He would be short of a home Be content to take one step at a time, and remember God will take you nowhere and leave you nowhere without a special reason, which He may or may not tell you. Leave it all with Him, and do not hinder His working by your worrying. Do not tell Him you" do not want to go," because if He wants you in one place you cannot expect His presence and blessing anywhere else. "Follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth." The comfort is that you have not to go first, for "When He putteth forth His own sheep, He goeth before them, and the sheep follow Him." Even if it is a cross that is laid upon you, it is only that you may "bear it after Jesus," and though His own cross was too heavy for Him, He will take care that yours shall never be too heavy for you. Jesus was

the only child of God who ever had to suffer alone, and the very fact that God forsook Him, is a pledge that He will never forsake you, for Jesus bore that solitude, when He took your place, in order that you might never in reality be able to say, "The Lord hath forsaken me." Trust in God's facts, not in your experiences, and trust Him to make you willing to be still. There is a distinct promise for you to plead. "Thy people shall be willing in the day of Thy power;" and the day of God's power is the day of our powerlessness. "All their own wisdom is swallowed up" (Ps. cvii. 27): it is good for us when it is so, for then we cease from our own wisdom (Prov. xxiii. 4), and take Christ Jesus, who of God is "made unto us wisdom” (Cor i. 30). Look in the same Psalm (cvii. 28, 30). “He bringeth them out." "He bringeth them unto." Every one of God's "outs" has a corresponding "unto" (cf. Deut. vi. 23). "He brought us out, that He might bring us in." And it was by “a solitary way," and yet "the right way” (Vers. 4-7).

Do not look forward. "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof" and the good thereof, for "as thy days so shall thy strength be." Let God keep you to-day; leave to-morrow with Him. Take each day, with its joy and sorrow, its pain and rest, as it comes. God comes with it, whatever else may come or not come, and brings the supply of the present need, not of the future. "Be not therefore anxious for the morrow." "Your Father knoweth what things ye have need of," and He will "supply all your need." When you feel, as you describe, that you "cannot pray," why not, instead of "trying to pray," just be quiet? Let God do the talking, and you just listen. He has many things to say unto you," as you are able to bear them. Do not worry your work, your people, your anything. I had better say your nothing; for if you are really fully His, only His, you have not anything-it is all His. And the care of all is His too. "Castingall your care upon Him, for He careth for you." If He cares, that is enough and more than enough; your caring will make the burden no lighter to Him: rather, the very fact of your caring will be to Him the heavest burden of all. Let Him plan, and bring all to pass; you trust Him and praise Him. "As for God, His way is perfect ;" and, more than that, "It is God that

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about

maketh my way perfect." Do not rush into work for which you have no strength, nor fret because you cannot do it. God will give you

I do not think God has any rule with his Marahs and Elims. Sometimes He is obliged to send the Marah first in order to make us appreciate the Elim; but if He sometimes sends sorrow to prepare the way for joy, I think He as often sends joy as our strength to bear sorrow. And then what we call a Marah is so often an Elim, if we only knew; but in our ignorance we call things by their wrong names. How often, for instance, what we have dreaded as the Marah of spiritual loneliness has proved to be the Elim of fellowship with God.

God's ways often seem strange to us; it cannot well be otherwise, since He is infinite and we are finite; and where would be the joy of trusting, if we could always see and understand? "His understanding is infinite," that is enough for us. He understands His own way and ours; only let us trust Him, and by-and-by, when we come to be where He is, | we shall see as He secs; but you know a view will always look different, as it is seen from the foot of a mountain, or from the top.

So you feel "like a little bird shut up in a cage, not able even to sing a song worth listening to"? Perhaps God has put you into a cage because He wants to teach you to sing something that will be worth listening to; and then you will only be kept in the cage till the lesson is learned; and with such a Master one would not like to cut it short. There is no telling what new notes you may develop under His teaching, nor what wonderful "new song" He may be going to put into your mouth, when He sees that you have spent time enough over "scales and exercises." These may be tiresome and tiring sometimes, but He sees they are needful for the cultivation of your voice, and you will not mind taking a little trouble over it (especially if He does not mind), for the sake of being able to sing to Him and with Him such music as He can delight in. He wants to make a good singer of you; do not grudge Him the time for it; all the credit will go to the Master, you know, and you would like to be a pupil who will bring a little extra glory to Him. Just be still, and

do as He tells you; keep singing the same note over and over again and again, if He says so. Never mind if it sounds very unmusical to you; when He is tired of it, He will go on to something else. And as to what the next note is going to be, or when He is going to let you have a song, you may be sure He will teach you the quickest way, as well as the best.

Do not make up your mind that you are or are not "ever going to be fit to do as you have done"; that is your Master's business, not yours, and His object in all this waiting time is to enable you to serve, and praise, and glorify Him as you never have done. Never mind how, that is His business, too. I remember a child at school, a brilliant but very careless musician, who was very proud of her performances, and so were her parents; but when a good music-master took her in hand, he took away all her pieces (and never let her have them again either), and just kept her to "scales and exercises." When he did let her have a piece, it was only a little, simple tune, taken from an instruction book. The child was indignant, said she should forget all she knew, and should never be able to play again as she used; but the master knew best, and the end proved he was right. "God is His own interpreter, And He will make it plain."

con

JUSTIFICATION AND SANCTIFICATION. "IF Christ be in you," says an Apostle, "the body is dead because of sin, but the Spirit is alive because of righteousness." It is a fathomless depth, that of our union with Christ, which I cannot yet see far into. It is clear enough that we by believing in Christ die, and that we die in the very act of faith. But there is a point which I would like to see into, but which I do not yet see into, viz., the condemnation of sin in the death of Christ. Christ demned sin in the flesh." I think we run away with one-half of the truth on this point, and Rome runs away with the other half (we, i.e., the postReformers, for I don't charge the Reformers themselves with it). The death of Christ when sin lay upon Him was, I think, the condemnation of all that so lay upon Him, with the pardon of their persons, and the execution or destruction of their sins. Condemnation of sin to death goes along with the adjudication of persons to life. Christ died for

the destruction of sin, but for the salvation of the unjust. But I would like to understand more thoroughly the force of the condemnation of sin in the flesh of Christ. "He that hath suffered in the flesh hath ceased from sin." I do not understand that saying yet. When our sins were laid upon our Lord what took place was a condemnation of them. The sins of His disciples were then sentenced to be destroyed. So you see how intimately our justification and our sanctification are connected; and our justification when we apprehend it deeply enough is the virtual execution of our sins. It is the sentence of God to slay our sins and to save our persons. And here we stand between two ultras. It is the evil extreme of Romanism that it deprives sanctification of its legal grounds; and it is the evil of an ultra-Protestantism that it stops short at the act of justification, or omits the very close nexus between it and sanctification; the connection is not insisted on so much as the distinction. The judicial sentence passes into effect, and all that passes in our sanctification is adjudicated in our justification. It takes place personally in our union to Christ, but it is all virtually contained in the life and death of Christ Himself. God's pardon of our persons and the execution of our sins both take place in our being (as the Apostle says) "crucified with Christ"; nor can I ever consider justification and sanctification farther separated than as a legal sentence, and the actual execution of it. Christ came to 66 condemn sin in the flesh;" and that the law could not do, because it was "weak through the flesh." But the law could always say of sin that it was a moral evil; and so it becomes an important question, in what sense it could not condemn sin. The Apostle also tells us that "the strength of sin is the law." The law, therefore, which is its strength, cannot condemn it. It denounces it and is wroth against it. But it cannot destroy it. Rather the opposite. The law may pass sentence on the wrong-doer, and even place him under the ban of the empire, as in that old German sentence of outlawry, "We turn thee forth upon the ways of the world, and no man can sin against thee." But I have no doubt that when Christ "made His soul an offering for sin," the sentence then went forth that all sin atoned for was to be put out of being,-out of existence. . . . The only difficulty with me is why glorification does not immediately take place on our union with Christ, because the immediate point of union with Christ should be perfect holiness and blessedness. But God has so planned it that there must be an order in the development of our lives

"Wisest God says, No

This must not yet be so."

And the Christian has to realise (what it is sometimes very hard to realise) that he is now seated with Christ in heavenly places while he is fighting away upon earth.-The late Dr. Duncan, of Edinburgh, in "Colloquia Peripatetica."

NOTES OF ADDRESS BY DR. ELDER

CUMMINGS.

PERTH-SEPTEMBER 13TH-EVENING.

(Sent by a Lady.)

EPH. II. 13.-" In Christ Jesus."

THIS expression, "In Christ Jesus," or its equivalent, occurs eleven times in this chapter and the first chapter of Ephesians.

1. In Christ Jesus is the place of Pardon. All men need pardon. All men must begin with pardon. When once the eye of a sinner is opened to see himself, the first thing he sees is sin. It is a most strange and awful thought that in every unrenewed heart there is such a mass of evil and corruption that God can see nothing else, and yet that till God touches the heart man does not see it. I do not know that there is any sight so awful as that which a man sees when he comes to look into his own heart. You have heard or read of a man going out of the light into darkened places where no light has penetrated for a long time. When the door is opened and the light streams in what a sight it is! Noxious creatures creep out of sight on every hand. What a picture of a man's heart when the light of God first breaks in upon it, . . and he looks back upon the past. . . . And therefore we begin with the need of pardon. Oh, my God, how shall my sins be taken away? Is there any way of escape from them on this side of the grave? Where is the place of deliverance from the past? Then you see the Cross, and by an act of faith you place yourself in Christ, and there, there is pardon, free, complete pardon, so that I can now face all the past, all that Satan brings up against me, standing in Christ Jesus as the place of pardon.

2. In Christ Jesus is the place of Assurance. The conscience of the Christian escapes far too frequently in our practical addresses. There are those who occasionally think that they are the children of God, and have drops sometimes of brightness and gladness in their lives, but no settled assurance.

If you want assurance you may find it in Christ Jesus. It is marvellous that, with the word of God before it, a soul should doubt at all, and still more marvellous that the soul should go on doubting for years whether it is a child of God. Take the whole of Christ with the simple hand of faith and you will find there pardon and assurance.

3. In Christ Jesus is the place of Peace. I sat last night on the platform, and was surprised to see so many anxious, burdened faces, so few full of peace and joy. Many faces full of doubt and anxiety, showing that the hearts within had not fully