the Desire of all nations. His province was to sound the note of prepara tion, and startle men, as it were, into an attitude to receive their King. His work was important in the highest degree. It was becoming, surely, that the approach of a visitant so glorious as the Messiah, should be announced. It was kindness, too, to those who were to be visited, that they might not, through inadvertence, miss the honour and advantages of such a visit. It is true, indeed, that he had to say of them, after all, "there standeth ONE among you whom ye know not;" but this lamentable ignorance was guilt, it proceeded not from want of information, but from want of will. While thus intimately related to both dispensations however, strictly, speaking, he belonged to neither. He was after the law, and before the Gospel. He was greater than any in the former dispensation; that, is in respect of knowledge, and nearness to the kingdom of the Gospel; but, forasmuch as he was not actually of that kingdom, he was for that reason less than any really and fully pertaining to it. Hence, said Jesus, "I say unto you, among those that are born of woman, there is not a greater than John the Baptist, nevertheless, he that is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he." HIS EARLY TRAINING FOR HIS WORK. This is the next point which demands our attention. We have seen, that he was ushered into the world in circumstances which pointed him out as a remarkable person, and one by whom an important work was to be done. If the people at large were impressed with this, much more were his parents; and they would naturally feel considerable anxiety as to his training. It was true, indeed, he was "sanctified from the womb;" but this did not supersede the necessity for parental instruction and discipline. Nor does it in any case. Early gifts and graces must be carefully nurtured, in order to future eminence, in every instance. It must be confessed, that not much is said about his training. Its whole period is wrapt in a degree of obscurity, such as greatly contributed to the startling effect of his public appearance. But the scene of it is mentioned, and this of itself is very suggestive: "He was in the deserts until the time of his showing to Israel." In By the "deserts," we are to understand the mountain solitudes of Judea, remote from the stir and tumult of men. Whether his parents resorted thither with him by Divine direction, we are not informed. The probability is, that there was some inward suggestion from God to this effect. But the wisdom of the arrangement appears in several respects. It would enable his parents to give him their undivided attention, and to concentrate all their energies upon the preparing of him for his future career. such a sequestered retreat their time would be wholly their own, free from those interruptions which are inseparable from a life spent in the bosom of society. And, escaping such interruptions, they would also be safe from influences of various kinds, which might have operated unfavourably upon their son. Here, amid the rocks and valleys of the wilderness, they would avoid that softness and effeminacy which are "in king's houses," and which were in direct opposition to his character and mission; and they would see him growing up in all that severity of life and simplicity of manners which were most in accordance with the pretensions of one who was to appear in the "spirit and power of Elias." As his faculties began to expand with an almost visible growth, it would be their care to furnish them with proper aliment, and to give them proper direction, recognising the Divine purpose concerning him, realising the need of the Divine blessing, and committing him habitually to that gracious Spirit, without whose keeping all keeping is vain. In this way, too, John would ere long begin to hear much of himself-vague whisperings at first of the future that lay before him, and of the important work he had to do. This might be dimly perceived at first, but still he would feel that he was born for some remarkable end-a feeling which would haunt him wherever he went, and which would not be the less influential upon him, that the precise manner of the thing was wrapt in considerable obscurity. Such, we may suppose, to have been the tenor of his earlier years; but, by-and-by, his plans would begin to take a more definite shape. He would address himself to the study of the Sacred Scriptures, to secret prayer, and to all other exercises fitted to rebuke the natural man, and to bring Divine illumination and motive into his soul. And thus, by degrees, he would become trained and equipt for his brief, but stirring and energetic career; till at last he could stand forth, like one raised up by heaven, to do heaven's work-to maintain heaven's cause-to lay the axe at the root of the formality of the period-to declare character everything, and the outward, nothing-to sweep away, in a word, the corruptions and prejudices which ages of hypocrisy had gathered round the oracles and the ordinances of God. Such would be the character of his early training; and, for all this, the wilderness,—the comparatively unpeopled districts of Judea, would be the most appropriate scene. But there is another thing here, namely, the effect which an opposite course might have had upon the Jews. They had been greatly impressed by the circumstances of his birth, and they really expected great things from him. But to have lived familiarly amongst them as a child, as a youth, and in his early manhood, would, upon such a people as the Jews, have probably had an injurious effect. Waiting and watching for some verification of their anticipations at his hand, and finding none, the collapse would have come, and a feeling of disappointment would begin to establish itself, which would have operated greatly to the disadvantage of his ministrations when they did begin. There was great wisdom therefore, in his being secluded for a time. He was thus enabled to take the world by surprise. Starting forth with the suddenness of an apparition, himself like Elijah risen from the dead, and his voice like an echo from the mount of God-" Sinai in the desert,”it could not be otherwise but that the effect should be startling as the appearance was sudden. The formality of the period scarcely had time to draw the mantle of self-complacency around it. The "voice" went out like an electric spark, and all classes were thrilled with a new emotion, insomuch that "there went out to meet him, Jerusalem and Judea, and all the region round about, and were baptized in Jordan, confessing their sins." His career was a brief one indeed, but perhaps it, all the better for that, agreed with the nature of his mission and the sort of isolated work he had to do. At all events, it was long enough for the purposes of God, and for that which God had required at his hand. It was long enough for the wide proclamation of the coming One, and for warning the people of the awful responsibilities and the practical duties of their then position. It was long enough for a practical exhibition of that spirit of unworldliness and of self-consecration which is of the essence of religion, but which seemed to have worn itself out among the Jews of that day-a spirit of unworldliness, which made him inflexible in duty, fearless in danger, heroic in death,-which led him to the palace or the dungeon, as occasion might demand, and which enabled him to lay down his life in his Master's cause, just as he would perform any other part of his Master's will. Such is a brief sketch of this heroic man. What is the improvement? John pointed to Christ, preached about Christ, had no mission, no message, no existence even, apart from Him. Our meditation therefore will lose its aim if it does not point us to Christ too. This is the first thought. If John was so great, what must Christ be? Great though John was, he was immeasurably inferior; he was only His forerunner, one "sent before" to call men's attention to this "Great One" who was coming after him. If such glory belonged to the herald, what must belong to the heralded? If the former was so great that angels were commissioned to announce his birth, then what are we to think of the latter? if the morning star was so bright and dazzling, what must the sun be? A second thought is this, that all persons and things derive their importance from Christ. He is stationed in the centre, and all things revolve round Him, and all derive their lustre from Him. John was 66 a bright and a shining light,” but the light was Christ's, not his; and the same with all the prophets and apostles of other times; they derived their importance from their relation to Him. They had their official existence, their official gifts, as well as their personal graces and hopes, in connection with Him. "The testimony of Christ was the spirit of prophecy;" and, separated from Him, the prophets and their prophecies alike were nothing. And what then and finally must the Gospel of the kingdom be! the scheme of salvation. All those great movements in which God has manifested Himself from the beginning of the world, were, with a view to this-the legal economy; the long succession of judges and prophets; the special mission of John; the sufferings and death, the exaltation and glory of His own Son; the New Testament economy, with all its privileges and means; the mission of the Spirit to give power to these; all are for this-the salvation of the soul! How precious in the eyes of God must that be. There is no disproportion between means and end with Him; and, when we look at the one, we obtain some idea of the importance of the other. What then shall the end of those be that obey not the Gospel, that despise the Saviour, that neglect so great salvation. All the responsibility of a Gospel position attaches to such, whether they will hear or whether they will forbear; and to every one who is in such a position, the Saviour says, as He enjoined His disciples to say to those who rejected their message, "nevertheless be ye sure of this, THAT THE KINGDOM OF GOD HAS COME NIGH UNTO YOU." FEMALE COLPORTAGE IN LONDON. A REMARKABLY-INTERESTING book* has been recently published, giving an account of the origin and progress of Bible distribution and other benevolent operations in London, through the agency of females, under the auspices of the British The Missing Link; or, Bible-Women in the Homes of the London Poor. By L. N. R., author of "The Book and Its Story." London: Nisbet and Co., 1859. and Foreign Bible Society. The author of this valuable little work has evinced, by former writings, an admirable fitness for the task, in evidence of which we have only to point to the wide popularity of "The Book and Its Story." The present volume abounds in graphic and truthful descriptions of the worst and lowest haunts of London-the scenes which, on account of their very wretched NO. I., VOL. IV., NEW SERIES-JANUARY 1860. B ness and degradation, have been selected for the operations of these "sisters of mercy;" and, in connection with which, abundant evidence is supplied that there exists, even in the most shrivelled and vitiated natures, some cord of sensibility, which, if we only knew how to lay our finger upon it, is ready to vibrate pleasantly to the touch of gentleness and love. It was long found that male colporteurs had very considerable difficulty in finding access to the thoroughly degraded of the opposite sex, so as to carry out the object of their mission amongst them; and it had occurred to some zealous friends of the cause, that if female agents could be obtained, respectable and trustworthy, while socially not far removed from those whom they sought to benefit, the "Missing Link" between the Society and the objects of their solicitude would be supplied. The manner in which this happy idea came first to be carried into effect is thus described : "A lady, who had long been engaged in promoting the circulation of the Word of God in country districts, walked one midsummer afternoon, about two years since, with a friend through the streets of St Giles's. The friend was a retired physician, who had known the secrets of the Seven Dials in the days of his early practice. The lady had recently become a resident in London, and the two having been village neighbours, this was a kind of exploratory walk to observe the condition of the London poor. Meantime, the question arose, how far these people, in their countless courts and alleys, would be found to be supplied with the Bible. "This inquiry grew into a determination to ascertain that they were so supplied, and led to a reference to one of the active missionaries of the district. He was asked if he knew of a poor, good woman who would venture with a bag of Bibles into every room, as a paid agent for the Bible Society, and give a faithful account of her trust. "In reply, he said he thought he happened to have a letter in his pocket from a woman who might be trained to this employment a good, grave person, of middle age, and whom he had known for some years. She was a resident in St Giles's, and her letter to him, which was a remarkable one, expressed the desire, quite spontaneously, to devote three hours a-day to the visitation of these sorrowful children of sin whom none else would go near. 'that which she had,' the treasure of ime, though she depended on it for her Of daily bread, she was willing to offer a por tion to the Lord-without money and without price." referred to The letter of Marian Babove is remarkably well written, and in a humble Christian spirit, but it is too long to be given here. Suffice it to say, that it expresses a deep sense of the importance of the work, and a willingness to undertake it, at whatever cost. She proved a most prudent, affectionate, and energetic labourer in this most difficult and trying field; and her success, by the blessing of God, was greatly beyond the most sanguine expectations. A brief outline of her own antecedents will not be unacceptable here. "The history of Marian B was a singular one. She earned a scanty livelihood in cutting fire-papers, or moulding wax-flowers, or making bags for silversmiths in London; and her lot had been cast, for three-and-thirty years, in some one or other of the purlieus of the Seven Dials. A drunken father, who broke her mother's heart, had brought her, as a young girl of fifteen, gradually down, down from the privileges of a respectable birth, to dwell in a low lodging-house of St Giles's. He died shortly afterwards, and left her and a sister, of five years of age, orphans, in the midst of pollution, which they, as by miracle, escaped, often sitting on the stairs or door-step all night to avoid what was to be seen within. An old man, who was her fellow-lodger, kind-hearted, though an atheist, had taught her to write a little, and he bade her never read the Bible—'it was full of lies; she had only to look round her in St Giles's, and she might see that there was no God!' "She had picked up reading and knitting from gazing in continually at the shop-windows. She married at eighteen years of age. Her husband proved sober and steady, but he was as poor as herself. When they went to church, she was without shoes and stockings, and he had no coat. Still, from that time she knew the meaning of that blessed word-'a home,' though such home was but a room, changed from time to time, in the same neighbourhood. "Five years before the time at which the lady met with her, she was passing through the streets one rainy night, when she took shelter in an alley that led up to a little mission-hall in Dudley Street, and hearing a voice, went in to listen. It was almost the close of the address; but some verses quoted from the eleventh chapter of Hebrews struck on her ear and touched her heart. She knew that the book always used in such places must be a Bible; but her attention was further arrested by an announcement that books would be lent on the next evening from that place from a newly-formed library for the poor. Going early at the appointed time, she was the first claimant of the promise. She had intended to borrow Uncle Tom's Cabin,' but a strong impulse came over her which she could not resist it was as if she had heard it whispered to her, 'Do not borrow Uncle Tom, borrow a Bible.' So she asked for a Bible. "A Bible, my good woman!' was the missionary's reply. 'We did not mean to lend Bibles from this library; but wait, I will fetch you one. It is a token for good that the Book of God, the best of books, should be the first one asked for, and lent from this place.' He brought her the Bible, and asked if he should call and read a chapter with her. She said respectfully, 'No, sir, thank you; we are very quiet folk; my husband might not like it. I will take the book and read it for myself.' "The Lord's time was come. His message then first entered her house, and went straight to her heart. The Divine Spirit applied the word with power, and the arrow of conviction was ere long driven home by suffering and affliction. "A twelvemonth after she bad received the Bible, she was obliged to send to the missionary who had lent it to her, to request a ticket for the hospital. Then he visited her, and found how God had worked with her by His own word, and had thereby alone brought her to Himself. "Two years of much suffering followed, and during this period her husband had also been ill; so that gradually, one by one, the comforts they had gathered round them by a frugal life vanished away under the gripe of want." This, then (although the labours of others are also recorded), may be regarded as the heroine of the book. She received the offer of employment in selling Bibles, feeling that it was the work which, of all others, she should delight to undertake." Another letter is given, evincing the spirit in which she would commence her labours, and the beneficent results she expected from them: we cannot resist giving the concluding paragraph. "Indeed, sir, I feel I cannot write what I foresee, or tell you how my heart warms as I write it. It appears that God is graciously marking out a path for me in which alone I am fit to labour. I know nothing of the customs and manners of the rich; I could not undertake the most menial service in a gentleman's house; but I can talk to the poor outcasts among whom I dwell; my deepest sympathy is secured to them by the sad history of my own early days. I may help the poor untended wife and mother. I may send young children to school. I may have a word in season for the drunken and even the infidel husband. It will be a privilege for me to obtain admission to those miserable homes, and on what an errand! with the Word of God! To its Author I look to direct me to turn all my opportunities to His glory! I cast myself upon His almighty power to aid me, and I will fear no evil. Accept my thanks for this fresh proof of your kindness, and I beg to be remembered in your prayers.-Your deeplyobliged servant, MARIAN." This devoted and excellent woman commenced her operations, by her own choice, in some of those miserable streets and alleys bordering on St Giles. "In this district you may enter long passages, and perceive numbers of rooms on either side, then, at the end, ascend a flight of stairs into another long passage, with rooms on either side a forest of rooms then cross a kind of bridge over a small yard, and find, still further on, more galleries and passages, as if there had been once a garden to the first house, and these had been built out into it. So little light and air can penetrate into these rookeries, that the people may well prefer sitting out on the kerb-stone, with their feet in the gutter." The descriptions, indeed, of some of the places where she plied her labours, are absolutely harrowing. After describing some of these filthy, dark, and over-crowded receptacles of human beings, as they appear by day, it is added, "They are worse by night. A policeman very recently, after due warning to the landlord of one such place (who persisted that only himself, his wife, and his son slept in his house), broke in the door at two in the morning, and found sixteen persons in heaps upon the floor, of all ages, and in their midst a woman with her new-born babe of scarce an hour old." Although she sometimes met with rudeness, it must be stated, to the credit of the miserable dwellers in these dens, that she almost invariably received respectful treatment. As a specimen of the calm courage and Christian tact of Marian, we extract for our readers the following "scene :" "Do not go up that stair,' said a city missionary, who met her on her way in |