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the conditions, we may anticipate the main results. Principles of truth, jus tice and goodness, by which the most perplexed may cleanse their way. It should make us grasp those principles more tenaciously than we hold to life itself. It should make us deep students of the Word of God—the 'light that shineth in a dark place' always illumining the present, and also a 'sure word of prophecy' unto which we do well to 'take heed.' And in so doing we shall find guarantees for this twofold consolation,-that whithersoever the path may conduct us, it will be a better and a brighter way, and that God Himself will lead.

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Better and brighter! A deeper sense of God's forgiving love; a more helpful realization of all-sufficient grace; clearer apprehensions of mercy and truth; quicker susceptibility to the influences of the Holy Spirit; closer communion with God; higher lessons in the art of turning evil unto good, of glorying in infirmities and 'in tribulations also'; a steadier, happier development of life; an increasing wealth of faith, hope, love, and intelligence-these are future certainties to all whose will it is to have them, and who will pay the price. On reflection we have no complaint as to the way our God hath led us. We 'praise Him for all that is past.' We have more reason to praise Him for the mercies of the time and eternity to come for the goodness laid up for them that put their trust in Him before the sons of men. Thankful for what has been, still more for what shall be, the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.' We are only in the beginnings of life-eternal life. There are no boundaries to our 'promised land.' The already gained is but an earnest of what shall be. Our path will shine 'more and more unto the perfect day.' In God and in His works, in His providence and grace, our eternally enlarging capacities will be eternally strengthened and enriched. 'Behold, I send an Angel before thee'-' Mine Angel'; the Angel of Whom Jacob said, 'I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved,'' to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared.' (Exod. xxiii. 20.) 'The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: He shall preserve thy soul. The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.' (Psalm cxxi. 7, 8.)

Not without difficulty and trial shall we complete the journey. Anticipated joys in some instances will be greater than we think; yet is there no pleasure here quite unmixed. We are under discipline. But the end of all discipline is higher life and fuller; and in face of all uncertainties' we know that all things work together for good to them that love God.' The more exercise of patience, the nearer 'her perfect work.' The harder the toil, the more approved the toiler. The severer the conflict, the greater the victory. Hurricanes will purify the atmosphere; and the most perilous ascents will bring us into ampler air, and give us a wider range of vision.

The true riches are in what a man is, not in what he has. In a deeper penitence our eyes open to behold the greater breadth and tenderness of the love

of God, and the ancient promise unfolds its hidden meaning: 'I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten, the cankerworm, and the caterpillar, and the palmerworm, My great army which I sent among you.'

It may sometimes seem to aged men that life's best days are over. Nature droops. There comes a shade over all the present. They look back on the sunny days of more vigorous life, and love to dwell on the good old times. They cannot work and sing and pray as in other days, and memory lingers over her treasures, always prized, but more so now. But the picture reverses: 'Now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.' While the body trembles toward the dust, hope wings her highest, surest flights, and invigorating breezes from the better country refresh the burdened spirit. Though

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our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.' (2 Cor. iv. 16.) They shall still bring forth fruit in old age'-riper and more precious because grown so near to heaven;—' they shall be fat and flourishing; to show that the Lord is upright: He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him.' And in the last, most trodden, yet most solitary and unknown way, 'no evil' will meet us or overtake us, for- This God is our God for ever and ever He will be our Guide even unto death.'




DANIEL BAYLISS was born in the year 1837 at Sutton-Coldfield, near Birmingham, at which place his boyhood was spent. He was converted to God when fourteen years of age, and at once became a member of our Society. When quite a youth he worked in the Church, not only as a Sunday-school teacher, but also as a Class Leader and Prayer Leader. On his twenty-first birthday he left his native country for New Zealand, and remained in that colony for nine years. His life there was very isolated: to some men it would have been nothing less than banishment, but to him it was not altogether uncongenial, for though it had great disadvantages, yet it gave him ample opportu. nity for reading and meditation. In a letter, written to one of his sisters, he says:

It is Sabbath morning. I sit in the shade of a New Zealand forest. The gigantic pine towers high above me, the underbush is thick around, and dead leaves form my couch. While I pencil these lines I hear the wing of the wild pigeon aloft, flocks of canaries hop chirruping past, and the more sociable robin (just like our robins at home, only that it is nearly black) comes pecking between my feet, and perching on the toe of my boot, looking at me as though he would not object to become better acquainted. With my Testament and Hymn-book by my side, you will imagine this a pleasant spot, a happy place for meditation and prayer. Well, and so it is. I have felt here this morning that God is everywhere present, present in the wild bush as well as in the full city. Happy thoughts and bright hopes have visited the lone emigrant this morning : thoughts of home and those I love, thoughts of the house of prayer, with longings that I could join you there, and hopes that by-and-by, when our earthly course is run, we shall have a joyful meeting above.'

An article contributed by Mr. Bayliss to the number of Good Words for September, 1866, gives a very interesting description of New Zealand shepherdlife-the life which he led there. Among the natives he was known as 'the Missionary'; for, having partly learned their language, he delighted in telling them about Jesus and His Gospel, and thus was indeed a Missionary.

On his return to England in 1866, Mr. Bayliss became a Local Preacher— a position for which his sterling piety and superior intellectual gifts eminently fitted him. In 1868 he took a farm at Chorley, near Lichfield, and connected himself with the Society at Bony Hay, in the Stafford Circuit, where his labours as a Class Leader and Local Preacher were greatly owned of God. Outside his own Circuit, and even his own Church, his services were often sought, and, so far as his strength permitted, were willingly rendered.

His journal testifies to the entireness of devotion to God at which he aimed. Under date of July 18th, 1869, he writes:

'First of all, I must attend to the salvation of my own soul: I must see to it that by prayer, self-examination, Scripture study and other reading, I maintain an abiding sense of the favour of God, and the renewing, sanctifying influences of the Divine Spirit -holiness, consecration, supreme love to God, and loving my neighbour as myself. Secondly, I must conscientiously perform my share of farm management and labour. Thirdly, Take care to use my influence faithfully for the benefit and happiness of my family. Fourthly, faithfully perform my duties as Class Leader, Preacher, and correspondent.'

In 1875 unmistakable symptoms of consumption showed themselves, which change of air, the best medical advice, and the most careful home-nursing failed to remove. In the January preceding his death he wrote: 'This morning I read these words, "The Lord is at hand." And in answer to my questioning, "Is it true? Is He at hand?" the answer came forcibly and decidedly, "It is true, the Lord is at hand." About the same time he remarked to his brother, that it was quite a relief to him when he became satisfied that such was the case. He hailed with delight every new symptom indicating the progress of his disease. To a friend who came to see him a few days before he died, he lifted up his wasted arm and said: 'Look here! it cannot now be long before I get safe home.' During the last few hours of his life his sufferings were most intense. After it had become evident, both to himself and to his friends, that the last conflict had begun, he lifted up both his hands, opened his eyes, looked up and gasped out: 'It's all right.' Just before he died his mother whispered: 'Have you the overcoming faith, my lad?' Summoning up all his remaining strength, he cried out: 'Yes, mother.' Soon after, he gently fell asleep in Jesus, on the 11th of July, 1877.

A beautiful and most edifying Memoir of Mr. Bayliss, by a Clergyman, has lately appeared, which we earnestly recommend to our readers. From


• The Path of the Just: A Memoir of Daniel Bayliss, late of Chorley, Staffordshire. By the Rev. G. Poole, B. A., Vicar of Burntwood, Lichfield. London: Hodder and Stoughton. 1879.

this we make some characteristic extracts. By these it will at once be seen what a superior man Mr. Bayliss was:

'The oneness of his spirit with the dear relatives he had left in England is strikingly shown in an invitation they received to join him in New Zealand : "The Haeremai, or, a voice in your ear. Come, come, come! though it is a long way, come! All of you, come! Father, come! because the climate will suit your complaint (asthma). You can't think, in foggy old England, how clear, dry and bracing the air of New Zealand is, particularly on the coast. Father, it would do your eyes good to see things growing here. They seem as though they can't help growing. Mother, come! so that we may take care of you. Almost every comfort that can be got in England can be got here for money: money is to be got here for labour,-here is the boy that is willing to toil! I never knew the value of my mother till I got far away from her. O, mother, when once I get you out here won't I work, that's all! Remember, you are not coming out here to slave and toil while I am able. I can't call this country home till you come. O, come! and then these wild rocks and gullies shall no longer hear me bewailing that 'All the world is sad and dreary.'

"Mary, come by all means. William, come by all means: this country would suit you all to pieces. The climate,-look here! I've not been ill since I arrived. John, come! But I'm getting good wages here.' Never mind, you can get good wages here, too; and you would not like to be-I don't know how many thousand miles from all your family. Save your money till the rest come, then come; and look here: whatever you do, take care of your father and mother on the voyage. Tom, come! I wish you were here now. I don't think I have had a job set me on this station but what you could have done just as well. You must give them no rest until they come-all of them; and be sure look after the invalids on the voyage. Stick up for your family's rights and privileges in the ship,-you will know what I mean when you get to sea. Of course, you will come to take care of mother. Do, there is a good creature, look after your mother! then I will give you something when I see you. Should I not like to see you galloping over our New Zealand flats; and if I saw you cracking a stock-whip, I should only laugh and say, 'Man, you are getting colonized!' But it is no use building castles in the air,' and I really do not see what use it is of me spending so much time in persuading you to come when you send word you mean to come. Take my advice, and don't spare a little expense in providing yourself with comforts for the voyage. It is a long time, I can tell you, and sometimes very miserable in bad weather: sea-sickness is an awful feeling; but, once here, you will only laugh at it. A sea voyage has its pleasures also; it is almost worth the privations of the voyage to see the land when you arrive: sunrise and sunset in the tropics is grand beyond description. I got to know almost every rope in the ship, and before we arrived here I could go aloft with the sailors. Seamen are a different sort of beings to landsmen altogether in their way of doing things. One of their peculiarities is singing when they are doing anything. You will never see sailors pulling a rope, lifting cargo, working the pumps, or anything else, without one of them singing out when to pull or lift. Sometimes, when the rope requires much strength, one sings a line, then all sing another line as chorus, and at a certain word in the chorus all hang on the rope together. This ditty is one of the most One sings:


'Haul on the bowline the Alma is a-rolling;
Haul on the bowline, the bowline-'

I do not know how to spell the last word,-it is a kind of grunt by all as they snatch the rope. The words in italics are changed to what the singer thinks fit, as 'Kitty is my darling,' 'Walking in the garden,' etc. Now, I will tell you a thing or two that will be nice on the voyage: ham, cheese, red herrings, plenty of carbonate of soda. We could have done with double the quantity of sugar, also of rice. Bring

plenty of pudding-cloths and bags. About tools, clothes, etc., I will tell you in another letter. I will write to George Keatly soon. I should have been very glad of the veil to keep out the mosquitoes when I was at Waifara (they kept me awake two or three nights), but I left it at the port in my box."

'The following letter makes it evident that England's great curse, drunkenness, was producing its withering effects in New Zealand:


"Te Awaiti, New Zealand,

"Dec. 15th, 1859.

""I can gain but very little information respecting the colony on which I can depend; for the character and opinions of those I am amongst, and whom I see travelling along the coast, are so various, that frequently what I hear one day I hear contradicted the next. But I see very plainly that any one who is sober, economical and industrious, cannot help but get on. Drunkenness is the monster' evil here. It is carried on to a fearful extent. Madness or death through drink are common occurrences. I believe there are hundreds-I know several personally-who have been out in these colonies for years, who regularly every year, on receiving their wages-forty or fifty pounds-go to the nearest town and have what they call a 'spree.' In about a fortnight, sometimes in a week, they may be seen leaving town in search of employment, without a penny in their pockets, scarcely a rag on their backs, and with visages like ghosts. They are drunk as soon as they get to town, and not sober again until their money is all gone." 'In another letter to a friend, he observes:

*"I still find it very difficult to gain information on which I can rely respecting other parts of these colonies, for I hear so many erroneous statements from dissatisfied parties, and from others from interested motives, that I scarcely know what to receive and what to reject; but I really believe that either in Australia or New Zealand any man who is willing to work may find work, and get well paid for it. I have heard of great numbers being unable to obtain employment at Sydney; but I have heard, again, that they were only those who would rather hang about town and starve than go up the country where labour was required." 'As a specimen of quiet meditation, the following well deserves to be inscribed :


"I cannot remain here day after day, without thinking of the future, and wondering what it will bring to me. And now that I have had time to look things right in the face, the future gives me no trouble-nay, what seemed at first sight to present the most gloomy aspect in the realm of possibility and probability, is, when seen aright, tinged with gold, pervaded by a heavenly radiance; for is it not controlled by Him' Who doeth all things well'? We won't trouble about the future, but prepare for it by resolutely and perseveringly grasping the present-the great, eternal now—and crowding into it, as it rushes past, seed-good seed, that will bring forth much fruit hereafter."

'He was a son who had learned "to show piety at home," and was watchful over his own spirit. His desire was to walk with God; and his anxiety that all his loved relatives should pursue the same path, drew forth the following letter to his sister on self-examination :


"Do you practise self-examination? I draw your attention to the subject because I find it such a very great advantage to myself; nor can I doubt of your practising it more or less. Every Christian must occasionally ask his soul some searching question. But do you do it regularly and systematically?

"It is astonishing what an immense field of profitable reflection will arise from one simple question, sincerely and honestly put to our souls, respecting our hopes, our faith, our walk and conversation. Take, for example, the first question on my list. Am I now

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