but wherever water lies or lurks, whether in the the Meeting; but none from the world to Godchalice of a rose or in the recess of a tank, it must un- as the God of salvation. SOCINIANISM also has, of dergo the same change, and pass from fluid to vapor, late, shone in the heat of proselyting zeal; but the before it becomes dew. As water, it cannot, how-only effect is, that some of the young, who formerly ever pure or polluted, ascend into the atmosphere, cared nothing about religion, are become flippant nor refine itself into dew: it may undergo changes speculators, and many of the speculators masked of taste, color, and smell, according to the channels Deists. It is notorious that the system has made it lies in and flows on; but into dew it will not turn, the young "heady and high-minded," and the old until it is exhaled in vapor by the sun. callous. Many of both are, indeed, intelligent and upright; but these were so before they embraced the system, and would be what they are under any moral system, while their local and relative circumstances continue the same. And what have the

classically elegant lectures on morals, which sound from so many pulpits, done for the young or old? and raising an ignorant clamor against evangelical Except maintaining a routine of formal worship, truth, they have left parishes and districts as they found them-locked up in the icebergs of apathy and self-delusion. And such must ever be the ef

Now, the moral, like the natural world, has its putrid marshes and its pure streams-its calm lakes and its stormy oceans; for although no class of mankind is naturally holy, some classes are comparatively pure, and others grossly vile. There are, in society, the decent and the indelicate, the humane and the cruel, the cool and the passionate, the upright and the dishonest. These distinctions between man and man are as visible as those of land and water on the globe, and as real as the difference between spring and pit water. But no natu- fects of legal preaching, because it is not God's apral amiableness of disposition, nor any acquired refinement of character, amounts to "true holiness." pointment for winning souls. He no more intends The best, in common with the worst," must be born to save sinners by the law, than to evaporate the The law, like again" before they can enter into the kingdom of waters by the moon or the stars. God: for, as water, in its purest state, must be ex- and living way;" but only the Sun of Righteousthese luminaries, is a light to our feet in "the new haled into vapor before it can be transmuted into dew, so both the moral and the immoral must be ness, shining in the Gospel, can draw us into that "The dew of his youth" can only be formed regenerated before they can enter heaven Educa- way. tion may purify the manners, but only faith can by his own influence. Thus far, also, the parallel is just. purify the heart: love of character may secure external decorum, but only the love of Christ can secure internal holiness. Thus far the resemblance holds good.

sinners

Again; the secret process by which the exhaled vapors are turned into dew, is an emblem of that Divine operation by which the Holy Spirit makes Again; the agency by which dew is produced cise agent in nature, by which vapor is condensed new creatures in Christ Jesus." The prefrom all the varieties of water, is an emblem of that into dew, is not known: whether it is by cold or by spiritual agency by which the varieties of human character are transformed into the Divine image. when God asked Job from the whirlwind, “Who electricity, or by both, is still as much a mystery as Now, the sun is the grand agent in the natural hath begotten the drops of the dew?" In like manworld, by which portions of all waters are changed into vapor. His heat, operating on their surface, ner, although we know that the Holy Spirit is the produces exhalations wherever it touches, drawing agent who changes the heart, by making the Gospel vapor from the wide expanse of the ocean and from power unto salvation, we are ignorant of the nature the weedy pool; from the brakish river and from of his operations. Whether they are partly physithe sweet brook. And the sun is the only luminary bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound cal, or wholly moral, is unknown. "The wind

of heaven that exhales the waters. The moon re

gulates their tides, and the stars irradiate their sur-ther it goeth: so is every one that is born of the thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, or whiface; but the united rays of both are insufficient to evaporate ingredients for a single dewdrop. It is

Spirit." But we do know what is much better—that his sacred influences are inseparably connected with the sun which draws from the earth, into the atmosthe conscientious use of the means of grace, and phere, the elements or this beautiful fluid: in like manner, it is "the Sun of Righteousness" alone forthcoming in answer to serious prayer. This we that draws sinners from the fearful pit of the curse, know; that as water exposed to the sun will be evaund from the miry clay of corruption. The at-will never become dew; so we may expect Divine porated in part, and water excluded from the sun tractive influence of his cross is to us what the influence in the use of divinely appointed means, heat of the sun is to the moisture of the earth-the and can look for none if they are neglected. only drawing power. Other doctrines may, like the moon, produce regular tides of formal worship, and, like the stars, brighten the surface of the character; but they shine too cold to regenerate the heart or purify the conscience. Thus, ARIANISM, although it shone in the brightness of learning and ethics during the last century, had no spiritual attraction: it drew small numbers from the Church to

Again; the similarity of dewdrops in pureness and beauty, although formed from all the varieties of vapor, is a fine emblem of that uniform spirit which characterizes the diversified classes of mankind, who are brought to believe on Christ for salvation. There is what may be called a family likeness prevailing throughout the dewdrops of the morn

when the Sun of Righteousness shall arise on the morning of the resurrection, the heirs of glory will be as numerous and beautiful as the dew from the womb of the morning-all in the beauty of holiness; for they "shall be like Him when they see him as he is."

No. IV.

A MATRON'S TIMIDITY EXPLAINED.

ing. They differ in size; but they are all transpa- | summer. Who has not gazed with rapture on the rent, tender, and pure. This is the more remarka-glowing myriads of dew drops, when each of them ble, seeing their original elements were so different: is a miniature of the sun which gilds them? And, part of the vapor was drawn from the briny deep, and part from the putrid fens; portions of it from the slimy pool, and portions from the steaming surfs. Now, that the exhalations from srrings and rivulets, from the herbs of the field and the flowers of the garden, should return to the earth in sweet dews is not surprising; but that the gross and tainted vapors should return sweet and pure, is wonderful! And yet all this is realized under the gospel. The sinner drawn from the very dregs of society, and the sinner drawn from a respectable family-PERFECT conformity to the Divine image exists the convert from sensuality, and the convert from intellectual pride-the wanderer returning from vice, and the wanderer renouncing vanity-become alike in their leading views, principles, and feelings; they build their hopes on the same foundation, ascribe their escape to the same grace, and aim at the same kind and degree of holiness. "Whosoever" hath the hope of eternal life "in Christ," "purifieth himself," even as Christ is pure. Converts differ, indeed, in the degree of their knowledge, gifts, and graces-as the dewdrops in their size; but, like them, they are all partakers of a new nature, and each compared with what he was before conversion," a new creature in Christ Jesus."

only in the Divine presence! Only those who see God face to face, are holy as God is holy. Until we see Him as He actually is, we cannot be fully like him. Nothing but "open vision" can produce an entire moral resemblance between our spirit and the Father of spirits. They little know what perfection means, who imagine that they areTM“ already perfect." Those, however, are quite as ignorant, and more criminal, who are not trying to perfect holiness in the fear of God. They are certainly very weak in intellect, who reckon themselves spotless in heart or character; but they are weaker in conscience and in all principle, who are content to be imperfect, or not much concerned to keep themselves unspotted from the world. And, alas, there are far more of the latter class, than of the former. The visionaries of Perfection are but few in numbers, and small in influence; whereas, the trucklers to allowed and needless Imperfection, are many and mighty. The name of the Inconsistent is "Legion."

How do we feel, when we say to ourselves, or when it is proved to us from Scripture and experience, "that perfection is impossible out of Heaven?" Are we glad to hear this? Is it good news to us? We make a very bad use of it, if we employ the fact to excuse our besetting sin, or to exempt us from the trouble of watchfulness and self-denial.

Again: the refreshing and fertilizing influence of the dew is a fine emblem of the salutary influence of converts in their respective families and spheres. The dew cools the sultry air, revives the parched herbage of the earth, and bathes the whole landscape in renovated beauty; and, in like manner, holy families are harmonious-holy churches tranquil. Even an individual convert is not without a portion of sweet influence in his circle: the change in his character and spirit suggests to others the necessity and the possibility of being changed too; and thus "they that dwell under his shadow revive as the corn and grow as the vine." His example distils as dew upon the tender herb, quickening the formal to the power of godliness, and awak-It was never revealed by God, nor avowed by His ening the careless to consideration. Thus the pious are the salt of the earth. The absence of dew would not be more fatal to the natural world, than the want of converts to the moral world. Were they withdrawn, or were their succession to cease, even the general morality of society would wither and sink far below its present standard and strength.

Again: the dew is regularly drawn up again by the sun, when it has refreshed the earth; and is thus a fine emblem of the first resurrection, when all the saints shall ascend to meet the Sun of Righteousness in the air. No scene of nature is more lovely than a summer landscape at sunrise, when every field, grove, and hedge is spangled with morning dew. The drops seem to sparkle with conscious delight at the approach of the sun-climbing, as he ascends, to the top of every leaf, as if impatient to meet him in the air. Every admirer of narure has noticed this scene, and watched the dewy vapor rising like incense from the golden censor of

ministers, for this unholy purpose. God declared it, and Prophets and Apostles confessed it, in order that conscious Imperfection might not drive the followers of Holiness to despair. The talkers about holiness do not need the fact, although they use it. Their imperfection, as they call it, neither alarms nor humbles them. They are on very good terms with what is bad in their habits; indeed quite in love with the sin that most easily besets them. It would be no gratification to them to be redeemed from its present power. They intend, of course, to give it up some time, and in time enough (as they think) to leave it still pardonable, or not fatal; but, like Augustine, “not now."

Not thus lightly, however, do sins or shortcom-' ings sit upon the conscience, or affect the hopes, of godly women. They have to prove their faith by their works; to confirm their hopes by their holiness; to make their calling and election sure, by a growing likeness to Him, to whose image Believers

are "predestinated to be conformed." To them, factory proof of real piety, in all cases where a real therefore, it is both a solemn and startling matter, effort is made to be holy in heart and life. There to miss some features of the Divine image in their is no great effort to be so, wherever there is selfcharacter; and others in their spirit; and to find satisfaction. Those who, like the Laodiceans, are "aboall the features of that image so indistinct and un- pleased with themselves, are, like them, an settled! This discovery causes in them great mination" unto the Lord. They both thought and searchings and sinkings of heart before God. In- said, that they had "need of nothing." They took deed, something of both continues with a Christian for granted, that they were enlightened enough, through life. She is never fully "satisfied" with clothed enough, and enriched enough, to be quite her own piety. Like David, she never can be șa-safe, or on the right side for Eternity. But, what tisfied with herself, until she awake in heaven in did Christ say to them? "Thou art wretched, and all the beauties of that holiness, which is the express miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked." Thus moral image of God. the men who imagined that they had need of noThis is one great characteristic of a real Chris-thing, were found wanting in every thing, when tian: she never is, and never can be, quite satisfied weighed in the balance of the Sanctuary, by the with the degree of her own piety. She may, indeed, Saviour of the Church. be quite satisfied that it is of the right kind, both as to its principles and spirit, so far as it goes; but she never thinks that it has gone far enough. She may have no doubt of its sincerity towards God, nor of its salutary influence over herself and her family, nor of its usefulness in her sphere of action; but still, it comes short of her wishes, and even fills her with shame and sorrow. She is not satisfied with herself, whoever else may approve or applaud her. Indeed, nothing humbles her more than compliments from others. Not that she is indifferent to the good opinion of others; but she feels that if they knew her heart as she knows it, they would not think so highly of her. For she is conscious of coldness, where they see nothing but warmth; of ignorance, where they recognize wisdom; of earthly-mindedness, where they acknowledge spirituality and heavenly-mindedness. Like Paul, a real Christian woman feels herself "less than the least of all saints," even when she stands highest in public estimation.

Here is the awful consequence of calculating how little piety will just suffice for safety at last. The Laodiceans seem to have reckoned to a fraction, how little would do. Their question had evidently been, not how much God required, nor how much they could cultivate, nor what would be the advantage of eminent piety; but just, how much is absolutely needed, in order to any chance of escape at last? And whenever a woman comes to reckon in this way, she is sure to let nothing into her list of duties or graces, which she can keep out. The moment she is so infatuated by sloth or worldliness, as to drive a bargain in religion, she will drive a hard bargain with it; and thus cheat herself to a certainty, whilst trying to cheat it. This is inevitable, whenever a woman tampers with the question,Where can I stop with safety in the path of holiness? She is sure to stop whenever she dislikes to go, and to make her own convenience limit the meaning of God's requirements.

Now although there may be both some weakness and waywardness in the spirit of those Christians, who give way to doubts and fears, and who "write bitter things" against themselves, whenever they do not feel as they wish, still, their spirit is noble and wise, compared with the spirit of the woman, who cares nothing about how she feels or acts in religion, if she can only keep down the fear of perishing. There is no comparison: it is all contrast, between a doubting Christian, and a heedless or heartless professor.

Were this fact well understood, as being characteristic of true piety, it would prevent many Christians from unchristianizing themselves so often as they do. They imagine, because they are so dissatisfied with themselves, that the satisfaction which others express, is more from kindness than wisdom, or rather friendly than prudent. They wish to think themselves as sincere, right, and safe as their friends say; but they are afraid to conclude that they really are so. "Should I not have the witness in myself, if I were, indeed, a child of God?" is their In saying this, however, nothing is farther from answer to many a prayer and appeal which treats my design, than vindicating or even palliating the them as daughters of the Lord God Almighty.habit of doubting. It is a bad habit; although in"Your arguments may be very true in your own case and in that of others," they say; "but you cannot argue me out of my own feelings, nor persuade me against my own consciousness. I am not satisfied with either my faith or my repentance; my prayers or experience; and for this solid reason:— I see so much in my heart that is bad, and so little in my life that really glorifies God, that I can hardly conceive how there could be any grace where there is so much coldness and deadness. 'O wretch ed that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of

this death!"

This self-dissatisfaction is, however, a very satis

finitely a better one than the habit of taking for granted that all is right before God, when there is nothing flagrantly wrong before men. Still, it is bad; and in this way. It tempts some who witness it to doubt the power of the Gospel; or the truth of the promises; or the freeness of grace. The doubt. ing Christian herself, does not question these things. All her misgivings of heart arise from what she thinks and feels herself to be; and not from any suspicion of the freeness or power of the grace of God. This distinction is not, however, noticed by all observers. Some look only on the surface of such a case; and, when they see a serious and con

sistent woman, without comfort, and almost without hope at times, they strongly suspect, either that the Gospel is not such good news as ministers say, or that prayer is not so surely answered as the Promises seem to imply. Accordingly, when recent converts see cases of this kind, they are tempted to doubt whether they may not pray in vain too, or strive to no purpose. Those, again, who want an excuse for neglecting prayer, or for remaining undecided, seize upon such cases with avidity, and pretend to be discouraged by them, or warranted from them to doubt whether religion is enjoyment. Now to both classes I would say, you are equally wrong, in the conclusions you thus draw from the sadness and suspense of weak Believers. They may seem to have no enjoyment in religion, and may even say, that they find no comfort: but, ask them to give up religion for the pleasures of sin; propose to them a return to the world for happiness; offer to them the sweetest cup of earthly enjoyment, in exchange for that cup of salvation, which they hold in their hand without venturing to drink freely of the living water; will they make the exchange, or even listen with patience to the proposal? No, indeed. They will tell you at once, that however unhappy they may feel, they would be miserable, yea, unspeakably wretched, were they to take up with any earthly portion whatever. Not for ten thousand worlds, would they turn their back upon the Saviour or Holiness.

And, is there no grace in this state of mind?Has prayer been unanswered, where the heart thus prefers to follow Christ even in darkness, rather than forsake him for the things of time or sense?Yea, is there not enjoyment, or at least, cause for comfort, in a state of mind which thus prefers the Divine favor and image, to all that the world calls good or great? For, what but grace-special, saving, sanctifying grace, could have wrought this change in the natural spirit of the mind, which is of the earth, earthy? Did doubting Christians reason in this way on their own case, they could not long doubt the reality of their conversion.

Nor is this the only thing which proves that a saving work of grace has been begun in them, by the Spirit of God. The sad light in which they see themselves, arises from the true light in which they see the character of God. Had they seen less of His glory, they would be less ashamed of themselves. It is because His character is much before their minds, that their own character stands so low in their estimation. Were they only comparing themselves with others, or their present selves with their former selves, they would be more satisfied with themselves; but they are contrasting themselves with infinite purity-with perfect excellence-with unchangeable holiness; and this process of judging, just produces the same effect upon them, which it had upon Patriarchs, Prophets, and Apostles.

Doubting Christians overlook this fact, and in the hurry and flutter of the moment, forget that the most eminent saints of old, had exactly the same opinion of themselves, whenever they had the same

clear and solemn views of the glorious majesty of Jehovah. Who said, when his eyes saw the true character of God, "I abhor myself ?" ~ It was Job. Who said, when he saw the glory of God in the Temple, " Wo is me, I am undone ?" It was Isaiah. Who fell at the Saviour's feet as dead, when he bowed the heavens over Patmos, and appeared in his original glory? It was John, the disciple whom Jesus loved. Who said, "So foolish and ignorant was I: I was as a beast before thee?" when he understood that the prosperity of the wicked was no token of the Divine favor, nor the trials of the righteous any impeachment of the wisdom or the equity of Providence? It was Asaph.

And, were these men not true believers, because thus overwhelmed by a sense of their own vileness and unworthiness? Why; it was their high and holy views of God and the Lamb, that laid them thus low in their own estimation. "No strange thing," therefore, has happened, when even some exemplary Christians are thus troubled, when they think of God. In such cases, He has manifested himself unto them, not only as he does not unto the world, but also differently from the manifestation of his presence to other Christians. I mean, that God brings that view of his own character before the mind of each of his children which is best suited to each of them. Some could not bear to see much of His glorious majesty; and, therefore, God manifests himself to them, chiefly as a tender Father and a watchful Shepherd. Others again cannot bear indulgence, without presuming upon it, or being betrayed by it into some wrong spirit; and He keeps them low and fearful, that they may be humble and watchful But there is not less paternal love in the one case than in the other. He is equally training both for Heaven, although each by a different process of fatherly discipline.

You, therefore, if rather cheered on in the path of holiness by the soft light of God's countenance, than kept in check from the broad way by awful views of God, have no occasion to suspect your piety because your spirit is not overwhelmed. And you have as little reason to suspect your conversion, if, at times, almost convulsed by your awful views of God, and of yourself before God. The question is

does the light in which he chiefly manifests himself to you, keep you afraid of sin, jealous of the world, and conscientious in the duties of life and godliness? That is the best light for you,which keeps you walking most humbly and circumspectly with God. And whether the light be lovely or solemn, it will keep you dissatisfied with yourself, until you awake in the image of God.

Another cause why some Christians are so low in spirits and hope, is, that their sense of the greatness of the great salvation is more than usually vivid. That salvation spreads out before them in such vastness of grace and glory, that they sink into nothing before its august presence. They can hardly imagine that it can be free to them. They see nothing in any of their own feelings towards so great salvation," at all great enough or good