CHARLES SHERMAN, second son of the Rev. John and Elizabeth Ross, was born at Woodbridge, Suffolk, September 29th, 1841.

Through extreme delicacy of constitution, he was a feeble and fretful infant. As he grew up to boyhood, he was singular and self-willed; but, as years advanced, his disposition manifestly improved. His abilities were very good, and obtained the commendation of his instructors. Being the subject of severe pulmonary disease, he was the child of much solicitude and many prayersbut with little apparent result. It pleased God, however, through a long series of heavy afflictions, to chasten and discipline his character, and so to refine those manly and independent elements which marked it. Not, however, until the spring of the present year was he brought as a new creature to the feet of Jesus; and the circumstances attendant on this blessed change are equally delightful as a record of Divine grace, and an encouragement, especially to pious parents, in wrestling with Jehovah for the conversion of their children. His beloved parents had long been seeking this blessing, and exercised with alternate hopes and fears, but through all clinging to the faithfulness of a performing as well as a promising God. While engaged in the work of the Lord in the country, this desire became an insupportable burden to the father's heart; and he

was enabled, amid much wrestling importunity, to cast it upon the Master. Encouraged by the example of Moses pleading for Israel's salvation, he put up the same plea, that God might thus be glorified, and that he might have witness that God was with him in his labour, in not denying to his own children that which he was seeking to impart to others. That hour was destined to become a Bethel, wet with tears of gratitude and vocal with thanksgiving to a covenant-keeping God. Remaining at home one Sabbath evening in April last, the opportunity was seized to learn the state of the loved one's soul. He told him of the painful exercises of his own mind, and how, on the previous Tuesday evening, when far away, he had been wrestling with God for his salvation. See what a surprise of mercy awaited him! With feelings that cannot be described, he learnt from his son's lips, that, for a full month, he had been entreating the Lord to change his heart and save his soul; that he had been wondering at, and sorrowing over, his hardness and want of love to Christ; that he had set apart the previous Tuesday evening, when his mother and sisters went to the prayer-meeting for the out-pouring of the Holy Spirit, to implore the Holy Ghost for himself, determining not to cease pleading with God for mercy till he found it; and that, while praying, he felt the pardoning

love of Christ melt down his heart, and fill him with wonder, love, and joy; and that from Tuesday till the Sabbath, the up-welling of Scripture truth in his mind, a sense of the greatness of the love of Christ in dying for him, and the feelings of shame for his long indifference to Him, had kept him full of admiration and gratitude. Must not hovering angels have witnessed such a scene with ineffable delight, and learnt anew the wisdom of God? Are not such holy confidences all too rare, and only because they are not prayerfully sought? It is easier to conjecture than to express a father's feelings at such a recital; - with what thankful emotions both bowed before the Throne of Mercy, and how father and mother afterwards rejoiced together!

Another beautiful feature adds completeness to this picture. It has since transpired that during this period other friends, feeling anxious for his salvation and fearing that his days were few, had made him the object of special prayer, whose faith in Christ was thus signally honoured, and whose confidence and love in God their Saviour has thus been strengthened. From this period there was a marked change in his entire experience, and a rapid growth of spiritual life; characterized by thirst for Divine knowledge; peace and joy in God; love for the word, the sanctuary, the people, and ministers of Christ; a changed estimate of spiritual and eternal things; thoughtfulness of others' interests; lowness of heart, gentleness, simplicity, and patience; lively concern and delicate efforts for the salvation

of his brothers and sisters; warm admiration and love of the Saviour, and glowing anticipations of heaven. For a time his health rallied, and the progress of disease seemed to be checked; so that hopes were entertained that, strengthened by an anticipated visit to Walton-on-theNaze, he might yet be spared a little longer to testify the grace of God. But his heavenly Father ordered it otherwise. About this time his pastor had the privilege of a long and, as it proved, his last conversation with him. It turned upon three topics-conviction of sin, the justifying righteousness of Christ, and the ends of his affliction. The first was most deeply felt, as he compared the restraints which Providence had thrown around him in a pious home, and the privileges he had there enjoyed; the second appeared then, for the first time, fully to open to his mind as the solid foundation of hope, whether in life or death, and seemed to awaken a deep satisfaction; and the last was that which reconciled him to the discipline,-it was a father's love that would not be denied the heart of his child, and would then make use of him as an instrument of salvation to his brothers and sisters.

A few weeks after this he accompanied his family to the sea-side, where alarming symptoms shortly manifested themselves. On Friday evening, July 13th, on going to what proved his death-bed, he said, "My impression is, I shall never leave this room." The medical attendant having stated that his symptoms were alarming, and that the action of the heart might stop at any mo

ment, he calculated on sudden death, and said, about midnight, "How blessed not to have to seek a Saviour now, but simply to look up to Him. I grieve at not having joined the church. I would, had I been better, and able to attend public worship; and Mr. Soden's absence in Ireland led me to defer it till his return, and then immediately we came down here." His father asked him if, as he had spoken earnestly to each of his sisters and his youngest brother to seek the Saviour, he had any message for his elder brother. He replied, "Give my love to him, and tell him to give himself to Christ, and to decide for Him at once." When in much pain, the 3rd, 4th, and 5th verses of the 53rd Isaiah were repeated to him, to contrast our sufferings with those of Christ; he was deeply affected that men could despise and slight Him, saying he had often wondered at it. Finding great difficulty in breathing, he said, "How I long to be gone: but, Lord, let me not sin in this, but give me resignation." Gasping greatly for breath, as if he thought his end near, he said calmly, as breath allowed, "Although I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,' &c. Will you not be glad at my release? Say that verse to me, 'I know in whom I have believed.' After the verse was explained, he expressed his happiness in trusting in Jesus. Presently, dozing, he said, "Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." He then asked what would be the soul's realization immediately after death; did not the Saviour sanctify it and meeten it for heaven at once? The case of the

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dying thief being instantly fitted for glory, greatly comforted him. He spoke warmly of the joys of heaven, where there would be no more pain, no more sin, no more evil, for ever. On the Sabbath, his elder brother arriving, he was greatly moved, and said, "Oh! if it would please God for me to get well again." Presently he said, "No; if I could get well again, I would rather not;-it must come once. I have not much moral courage, and might be drawn away, and so be less fit to go." His brothers and sisters sitting round the bed, he beckoned his elder brother to him, and holding his hand, affectionately entreated them all to decide for God at once, saying to him, "I have long wanted to speak to you, but did not like to set myself up." A young friend bringing him some fruit, said, "Poor fellow! poor fellow!" Smiling sweetly, he replied, "I do not consider myself poor-I do not consider myself poor."

On Monday, he said to his sister, "Seek Christ directly; you see it made me happy before this illness, and what should I do now without a hope in Him? Ever since that evening when I gave myself to Jesus, I have had peace. I have often backslidden, but returning the same way to Him, I have found peace again." This was fully exemplified during the previous three months, in the sweet state of mind he often confessed himself to be enjoying, and in his growing gentleness and humility. On Wednesday, a friend having sent his Christian sympathy to him, feeling very weak, he observed, "I get beyond those things now; I know in whom I have believed; that is enough

for me." To a dear friend, who recently gave him a book he much prized, he said, "Give my love to him, and say, the book he sent me was very clear and instructive; I can call the Saviour my own, I do not fear to die." He often observed, he was not sufficiently grateful for his mercies in having a comfortable bed to die upon, and a tender mother to smooth every crease in his pillow. He was deeply affected by the thought that this was purchased by Christ's dying in agony on the cross, and his bleeding-hearted mother looking on without power to help him. Pressing his left breast, he said, "Here is all the mischief! Oh, the rack, the rack! it is tremendous; not pain exactly, but oppression." The mention of a Saviour's sorrow instantly comforted him. At night, being very low, he said, "Soothe me; speak to me of Christ's sympathy; I feel wild, and cannot think." On hearing of the love of God from John iii. 14-16, "That will do--I understand-thank you." After dozing a while, he woke up, saying, "Praise the Lord." When wandering again, "Trust in the blessed Jesus," was whispered in his ear. He replied, with great energy, "I do, with all my heart: I am going to Him: I shall soon be with Him." To his youngest sister, as she wept violently, he said, "Sorrow not for me as for one that is lost." An hour before he died, soliloquising, he said, very solemnly, "You said, live another week, and fight the world; Lord, I am only thine." He said to his relatives, he could not trust himself to think about their grief for his removal, but he was comforted by the

support they obtained from God, and prayed that it might continue. Often he was heard to pray, "Once more, O Saviour, I ask thee to be with me in the last struggle." The night before his departure, being greatly exhausted, it was whispered in his ear, "Although I walk through the valley of the shadow of death," when rousing to great energy he continued, "I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff -they comfort me." Wondering that he could be welcome to heaven without working for the Saviour's glory, and wishing that he could do ever so little for this end, he was reminded that God is glorified in suffering, as well as by labour; that God calls some to render all their service in heaven, saying, "It is well that it was in thine heart-come, serve me in heaven." His smile told his happiness. His sense of weakness and unworthiness was marked and constant, his trust in Christ simple and implicit, and his peace and rest in the Saviour rich and unwavering. He threw himself on the mercy of God in Christ about three months before his death, and enjoyed from that hour a delicious repose, while exercising a cheerful confidence in His love and power. The prevailing feature of his experience was that Christ is an infinite and all-sufficient Saviour, on whom having, by the Holy Ghost, cast himself for salvation, it was for him ever cordially to believe, hope, and rejoice in Him, whether for life or for death. His rapid progress in knowledge, love, gentleness, solicitude for others, and holy delicacy of feeling, disclosed the preparation he was experiencing