departure from God's word, and, that he is preserved from the direst of them, is only of the covenant mercies of that God, who, in the midst of all their temptations, is alone able to keep his people from falling. A child of God, passing through this vale of tears, requires all the spiritual assistance he can meet with, to urge him on his way. All the strength, the comfort, the encouragement, and all the support it is possible for him to obtain from any and every quarter, he needs to call into full exercise, in order to bear up against the many and peculiar difficulties that throng his path, and would keep him from advancing. Infirmities within, and impediments without,-inward corruptions, and outward trials, the strugglings of sin, and the assaults of Satan, all conspire to cast him down, and often to extort from him David's exclamation, 'My soul cleaveth to the dust." At such a period, how strengthening, how supporting, how encouraging, and how animating the communion and soothings of a kindred spirit,—a spirit one with himself. If it be true-and most true it is that, "as iron sharpeneth iron, so doth the countenance of a man his friend,"-to a much greater degree, and in a more endearing sense, is this reciprocity experienced in the high and enduring relation we are considering. The godly husband and the godly wife are true helpmeets, the one to the other. They belong to the same family—speak the same sweet language-are travelling the same happy road, and are journeying to the same blissful home. For a child of God, then, to unite himself to one who can be of no assistance to him in his journey, but rather a hindrance, —who, when he speaks of conflicts, cannot understand them, of burthens, cannot lighten them,of perplexities, cannot guide them,-of trials, cannot share them-of sorrows, cannot soothe them, and of joys and hopes, cannot participate in them, is indeed to mark out for himself, a lonely and a desolate path, which may know no termination of its trial until it conducts him to the grave. To the Christian reader, who may already have taken the step, with much affection, we would say, -guard vigilantly against its hurtful consequences. Necessary as they are, they may, in a degree, be greatly mitigated. Draw largely from the grace that is in Christ Jesus, treasured up for all the circumstances and the necessities of his people. Be doubly prayerful, watchful, and humble; let your whole deportment be marked by the fear of God, a jealous regard for his honour, and a beautiful harmony with the high "vocation wherewith you are called❞—and, may God overrule the event to his glory, and your real good. To others, we would say, guard against this needless and unscriptural entanglement with the world. Marry "only in the Lord." "In all your ways acknowledge him." Let his word be your guide, his fear your rule,-his glory your aim, and he will direct your paths through life, will sustain you in death, and conduct you safely to his heavenly kingdom. In reviewing the subject of this chapter, many important considerations suggest themselves, which in closing, can be allowed but a brief and passing notice. The first is, how high the obligation to live to God. Are we born again? Can we think of the "horrible pit, the miry clay,"-the "valley of bones," the "rock from whence we were hewn," and then remember that, if we are born again, we have in our souls at this moment, the buddings of eternal life. O can we think of this, and not desire an unreserved surrender of all we are, and all we have to God. Christian! watch over your principles-your daily walk-your intercourse with the world, and see that the evidences of the new birth signalize every action of your life. The world is a close observer. Narrowly and vigilantly are you watched. It weighs your actions, scrutinizes your motives, sifts your principles, and ponders all your steps, waiting for your halting. Disappoint it! Live out your religion, carry out your principles, they are designed not merely for the Sabbath, but for the week,-not merely to be exhibited in the place and at the hour of prayer, and social Christian intercourse, but they are to be carried into your haunts of business, into your shop, your counting-house, your study, your profession,-you are to exhibit them, not in a spirit of vain glory, but in "lowliness of mind,” in all your intercourse with a world lying in wickedness. To be born again! O it is a mighty work! Let the evidences of its reality in you be such as shall compel the gainsayer to admire the work though he may hate the change. O be in spirit-in temper-in life-like Jesus. What have you not to praise God for, tried and afflicted reader? Born again! O your afflictions, how light they are when compared with this. Take the scales, and weigh the two. Place in one, your every sorrow. Is it domestic?-place it there. Is it personal-a nervous frame, a feeble constitution, trying circumstances?-place it there. Are friends unfaithful, are saints unkind, does the world frown?-place it all there. Then, in the other, cast your hidden life—your sense of pardon, your hope of heaven-O these outweigh them all. "For I reckon," says Paul, "that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." Unconverted reader,-What solemn truth does this subject address to you. You must have perceived that the word of God sets before you a new mould, into which you must be cast. It professes to work a great change in you, in the hands of the Eternal Spirit, not of opinions only, but of your nature, of your heart. Is this done? O turn not from the question-pass it not to another your all depends upon its answer-Eternity hangs upon the issue. I ask not what you hold, what you know, or what you profess, but—what you are. Are you born again? Are you a new creature? Say not, " peace, peace," when there is no peace. You may persuade yourself, or be persuaded by others, that regeneration is all enthusiasm, a delusion, and a lie, and yet, "This fearful truth will still remain, Or sink to endless woe." ( |