after in these words: "Thy kingdom come: thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven." It is to be sought for in the simplicity of a little child, without being captivated with any mysterious depths or heights of speculation; without coveting any knowledge, or wanting to see any ground of nature, grace or creature, but so far as it brings us nearer to God, forces us to forget and renounce every thing for him; to do every thing in him, with him, and for him; and to give every breathing, moving, stirring intention, and desire of our heart, soul, spirit, and life to him.

Let every creature have your love. Love, with its fruits of meekness, patience, and humility, is all that we can wish for to ourselves, and our fellow-creatures; for this is to live in God, united to him both for time and eternity.

To desire to communicate good to every creature, in the degree we can, and it is capable of receiving from us, is a Divine temper; for thus God stands unchangeably disposed towards the whole creation: but let me add my request, as you value the peace which God has brought forth by his Holy Spirit in you, as you desire to be continually taught by an unction from above, that you would on no account enter into any dispute with any one about the truths of salvation; but give them every help but that of debating with them: for no man has fitness for the light of the Gospel till he finds an hunger and thirst, and want of something better than that which he has and is by nature. Yet we ought not to check our inclinations to help others in every way we can. Only do what you do as a work of God; and then, whatever may be the event, you will have reason to be content with the success

that God gives it. "He that hath ears to hear, let him hear;" may be enough for you, as well as it was for our blessed Lord.

The next thing that belongs to us, and which is also God-like, is a true unfeigned patience and meekness, shewing every thing of good-will and tender affection toward those that turn a deaf ear to us; looking upon it to

be full as contrary to God's method, and the good state of our own heart, to dispute with any one in contentious words, as to fight with him for the truths of salvation.

"Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest," saith our blessed Lord. He called none else, because no one else hath ears to hear, or a heart to receive the truths of redemption.

Every man is a vain disputer, till such time as something has disturbed his state, and awakened in him a sensibility of his own evil and miserable nature. We are all of us afraid both of inward and outward distress; and yet, till distress comes our life is but a dream, and we have no awakened sensibility of our own true state.

We are apt to consider parts and abilities as the proper qualifications for the reception of Divine truths; and wonder that a man of a fine understanding should not immediately embrace just and solid doctrines: but the matter is quite otherwise. Had man kept possession of his first rich and glorious state, there had been no foundation for the Gospel-redemption; and the doctrine of the cross must have appeared quite unreasonable to be pressed upon him: and therefore says our Lord, "To the poor the Gospel is preached." It is solely to them, and none else: that is, to poor fallen man, that has lost all the true natural riches and greatness of his first Divine life; to him is the Gospel preached. But if a man knows and feels nothing of this poverty of his nature, he is not that person to whom the Gospel belongs: it has no more suitableness to his state, than it had to man unfallen: and then the greater his parts and abilities are, the better is he qualified to shew the folly of every doctrine of that salvation, of which he has no want.

Such a man, though he may be of an humane, ingenuous, generous, and frank nature, of lively parts and much candour, is nevertheless entirely ignorant of the depth of the heart of man, and the necessities of human nature.

after strict truth, whilst he is only sporting himself with lively wandering images of this and that, just as they happen to start up in his mind. Could but he see himself in the state of the poor distressed prodigal son, and find that himself is the very person there recorded, he would then, but not till then, see the fitness of that redemption, which is offered him by the mercy of God in Christ Jesus.But such an one, alas! is rich; he is sound; light is in his own power, goodness is in his own possession: he feels no distress or darkness; but has a crucible of reason and judgment, that on every occasion separates gold from dross; and therefore he must be left to himself, to his own elysium, till something more than argument and disputation awakens him out of these golden dreams.

But hear what our blessed Lord saith of the place, the power, and origin of truth: he refers us not to the current doctrines of the times, or to the systems of men, but to his own name, his own nature, his own divinity hidden in us: My sheep," says he," hear my voice." Here the whole matter is decisively determined, both where truth is, and who they are that can have any knowledge of it.

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Heavenly truth is no where spoken but by the voice of Christ, nor heard but by a power of Christ living in the hearer. As he is the eternal only word of God, that speaks forth all the wisdom and wonders of God, so he alone is the word, that speaks forth all the life, wisdom, and goodness, that is or can be in any creature; it can have none but what it has in him and from him: this is the one unchangeable boundary of truth, goodness, and every perfection of men on earth, or angels in heaven.

Literary learning, from the beginning to the end of time, will have no more of heavenly wisdom, nor any less of worldly foolishness in it, at one time than at another; its nature is one and the same through all ages; what it was in the Jew and the heathen, that same it is in the Christian. Its name as well as nature is unalterable, viz, foolishness with God.

I shall add no more but the two or three following words:

I. Receive every inward and outward trouble, every disappointment, pain, uneasiness, temptation, darkness, and desolation, with both thy hands, as a true opportunity and blessed occasion of dying to self, and entering into a fuller fellowship with thy self-denying, suffering Saviour.

II. Look at no inward or outward trouble in any other view; reject every thought about it; and then every kind of trial and distress will become the blessed day of thy prosperity.

III. Be afraid of seeking or finding comfort in any thing but God alone: for that which gives thee comfort takes so much of thy heart from God. "Quid est cor purum? cui ex toto et pure sufficit solus Deus, cui nihil sapit, quod nihil delectat, nisi Deus." That is, What constitutes a pure heart? One to which God alone is totally and purely sufficient; to which nothing relishes, or gives delight, but God alone.

IV. That state is best which exerciseth the highest faith in, and fullest resignation to God.

V. What is it you want and seek, but that God may be all in all in you? But how can this be, unless all creaturely good and evil become as nothing in you or to you.

"Oh anima mea, abstrahe te ab omnibus. Quid tibi cum mutabilibus creaturis? Solum sponsum tuum, qui omnium est author creaturarum, expectans, hoc age, ut cor tuum ille liberum et expeditum semper inveniat, quoties illi ad ipsum venire placuerit.', That is, O my soul! abstract thyself from every thing. What hast thou to do with changeable creatures ? Waiting for and expecting thy bridegroom, who is the author of all creatures, let it be thy sole concern, that he may find thy heart free and disengaged, as often as it shall please him to visit thee.

Be assured of this, that sooner or later we must be brought to this conviction, that every thing in ourselves by nature is evil, and must be entirely given up; and that nothing that is creaturely can make us better than

we are by nature. Happy, therefore, and blessed are all those inward or outward troubles, that hasten this conviction in us; that with the whole strength of our souls, we may be driven to seek ALL from and in God, without the least thought, or hope or contrivance after any other relief; then it is that we are made truly partakers of the cross of Christ, and from the bottom of our hearts shall be enabled to say with St. Paul, "God forbid that I should glory in any thing, save the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ; by whom I am crucified to the world, and the world is crucified to me."

Give yourself up to God without reserve. This implies such a state or habit of heart, as does nothing of itself, from its own reason, will, or

choice, but stands always in faith, hope, and absolute dependence upon being led by the Spirit of God into every thing that is according to his will; seeking nothing by designing, reasoning, and reflection, how you shall best promote the honour of God, but in singleness of heart meeting every thing that every day brings forth, as something that comes from God, and is to be received, and gone through by you, in such an heavenly use of it, as you would suppose the Holy Jesus would have done in such Occurrences. This is an attainable degree of perfection; and by having Christ and his Spirit always in your and nothing else, you will never be left to yourself, nor without the full guidance of God.

eye,

SHALL the Christian maiden wear
Flowers or jewels in her hair,

When the blood-stained crown of thorn
On her Saviour's brow was borne ?

Shall the Christian maiden's breast Beat beneath the broider'd vest, When the scarlet robe of shame Girt her Saviour's tortured frame?

Shall the Christian maiden's feet Earth's unhallow'd measures beat, When beneath the Cross's load Sunk the suffering Son of God?

Shall the Christian maiden's song
Earth's ignoble strains prolong,
When her Saviour's troubled breast
Sought in hymns* its sacred rest?

Ne'er such sin and shame be said
Of a holy Christian maid;
Christian maids should live and die
As beneath their Saviour's eye.

Jesus! bless this simple strain,
Let it not go forth in vain;
Grant me souls to crown my lay,
Souls to grace thy Judgment day.

It is amusing to observe, while walking in the fields, how lively is the instinct of self-preservation in every creature you meet. The bird suspends its song, and flies away at your approach: the beetle hurries across the path to avoid your tread: the snail draws in its horns when you touch its comfortable house: and, should you try to stroke the woolly back of a sheep, it will bound off as though it saw the butcher's knife gleaming in your hand. So is it throughout creation. Every creature feels that it has one great treasure committed to its keeping-its own existence. However low we may descend in the scale of the sentient creation-to the animalcule, with its restless and fantastic motions; however high we may ascend-to the most cultivated of the children of men-we find the awakened principle of life holding watch over itself. Though mingled with the mass of living things, each individual among them exists apart in mysterious isolation. The movements going on around it become important as they cause it pleasure or alarm, as they apparently tend to perpetuate or destroy its existence. Each being when called forth to take its place in the world, had, as it were, a post assigned it which it is determined to maintain. However extensive may be its relations with other parts of the universe, the individual does not lose its personal identity: but rather gathers an increase of self-consciousness from the interest which it has in things external. Thus man does not lose himself amid the spaces of the universe on which he is allowed to look; but rather draws thence a fresh proof of the importance of his individual life, and a reason for more energy in self-preservation.

Since then the instinct of selfpreservation is so strong even when its only object is the continuance of a mortal existence, how intense must be the holy desire of self-preservation which is attendant upon that spiritual

:

The

life through which the believer opens his eyes on the wonders of the invisible world, and becomes conscious of the secrets of Divine love! natural man clings to his corporeal existence, like the rest of the animal races; but he neglects his soul. Fallen from the knowledge of God, man needs to be awakened to a consciousness of the true value of his soul ere he can seek its preservation. "Dead in trespasses and sins:" such is his state by nature and till a new, a celestial life has been bestowed, he sits "in darkness and in the shadow of death." Hence, as in order that the animal should begin to provide for the preservation of its existence, it is of course necessary that it should first have received that existence; so in order that man should apply himself to the preservation of the new life, it is necessary that he should first possess it. "Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." But when the Holy Spirit has called into existence the true life of the soul, the awakened man, being now, "a new creature,' will begin to provide for his spiritual self-preservation. God has made for him all things new: to the depths of the material creation, in which previously his inquiring spirit may have delighted to plunge, are now added still more marvellous abysses, firmaments of wider extent, and stars of lovelier ray-the mysteries of redemption and yielding to the heaven-sent instincts of his new nature, he seeks his appropriate food, and works out his own salvation in fear and trembling, deriving the power to do so from God who worketh in him. Without Him he can do nothing: but He who bestows on him the new nature, and holds out to him the promise of an eternal inheritance, enables him also to pursue that course which leads to it. As God has shewn to every creature the means by which its existence may be preserved, and has bestowed on it

instincts urging to the use of them, as He has endowed the natural man with reason and strength by which he may obtain the meat that perisheth, so has He revealed to the regenerated man the means by which his spiritual nature may be preserved from the second death.

1. As for the natural man, the prime necessary is food, so is it for the new man. God has not left his new-born family to suffer want in this respect. "I am the bread of life," declares the Redeemer, "he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst." "I am the living bread which came down from heaven if any man eat of this bread he shall live for ever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world." In feeding continually upon Christby an inward reception of the truths he taught, by bearing in remembrance his passion and death, by communion with him in his works, his word, and his ordinances, by seeking an identity of will and intimate union with him, his Father, and his Spirit—the Christian finds the sustenance which his soul requires. From the husks of the world, the empty enjoyments of sensual pleasure, his better nature revolts. Should he be at times beguiled to partake of them, he discovers their poisonous properties, and suffers through the forbidden indulgence a temporary prostration of his spiritual strength. The provision for which he longs, the cooling, quickening draught for which he pants more than does the hart for the water-brooks, are bestowed on him from above. "It is an admirable thing," says Clemens Alexandrinus, "having our eyes intently fixed upon truth, to attach ourselves to that Divine food which is above, and to fill ourselves with the uncloying contemplation of Him who really is :tasting delight certain, durable, and pure. Thus it is that the soul lives and grows. In the world, the believer has presented for his admiration or enjoyment, schemes of am

*Pedag. lib. ii. Opera, p. 144. JUNE-1849.

bition or pleasure, the applause of imperfect fellow-mortals, or the gratification of appetites possessed in common with the brutes; and, turning from a banquet where others find their choicest dainties, he pines for more congenial food. At times, too, through a lengthened intercourse with the children of this world," a feeling of exhaustion depresses him: his hopes of immortality wax dim: joined thus in outward association with persons who declare that their paradise is here, whence arises, he asks himself, the boldness which aspires beyond enjoyments with which they are content? why should he flatter himself that his ambitious anticipations of future existence are better founded than the dreams of temporal eminence with which they are mocked? From this state of moral starvation he is rescued by a timely supply of spiritual food; and delightful and restoring is it when he can recur to the holy Word, cling in prayer to the throne of God and the Lamb, meditate on the Sufferer of Calvary, and, feeling in the depths of his soul that the hopes on which he rests are a reality, become gratefully conscious that he has meat to eat which the world knows not of. "Lord, evermore give us this bread!"

2. The instinct of self-preservation in the natural world displays itself also in an anxious avoidance of danger and so is it with the believer. Around him are various perils against which it is needful for him ever to be on his guard. The world, the flesh, and the devil menace him on every side. In society and in solitude are continually lurking vexatious interruptions threatening to draw him from his God. Hence a perpetual vigilance becomes necessary, and he perceives the appropriateness of these injunctions in Scripture: "What I say unto you, I say unto all, Watch;"

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Pray that ye enter not into temptation;""Pray without ceasing;" "Neither give place to the devil;"" Prove all things: hold fast that which is good;" "Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown."

The sensations on proceeding into an enemy's country are described as

R