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plainly and clearly revealed in the word of God, he most commonly at once receives it with joy, exclaiming, Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift; but ere long doubts spring up in his mind,—not so much as to the certainty of salvation to those who believe; not as to the faithfulness of that God by whom the promises are made; nor yet as to the completeness and sufficiency of the Redeemer's atonement for all who believe, however hopeless their case may once have been, but as to the nature, the effects, the evidence of faith. They, he says, who believe, ought to be full of joy, and peace, and love, their faith should overcome the world; they should run with enlarged hearts in the way of God's commandments; and find no duty too hard, no service too difficult, but be ready always to say, Here am I, send me ; whereas "for peace I have great bitterness; "the joy I once felt is transient, it has gone out as the crackling of lighted thorns upon the hearth; I feel as if I could do nothing for God, I am often ashamed to speak a word for him, and often struck when duty calls, as if a lion were in the way; surely I cannot be a believer."

It is thus, my dear madam, that while the awakened soul does firmly believe and cordially embrace God's promises, yet for want of knowing the way of the Lord more perfectly, the individual is often led to write bitter things against himself; and I cannot but conceive that from the statements you make, such is at the moment your case. Now, supposing your perplexity at present were not concerning the promises made in the gospel of Christ to your soul, but concerning some promise which I, as an individual had made you, which you knew it was in my power to fulfil, and which you were convinced I should never have made without intending so to fulfil it ;

suppose, for instance, I had pro mised, on a certain though somewhat distant day, to give you a large sum of money, of which you would at that time stand in especial need; suppose I had not only made the promise verbally, but had made a memorandum of my intention, and written a letter to that effect, which I had committed to your possession; and suppose you awoke some morning after a distressing dream, in which your creditors had appeared, and sheriff's officers were at hand, and a prison in full view, and your mouth had been stopped by some one saying, 'Your friend never made you such a promise, you only dreamt it on some former occasion, and now you see it is not to be depended on;' what would be your feelings at the moment, and what your conduct on the occasion? Doubtless, you would endeavour to collect your thoughts, to consider what had really passed between us, to search for the document, to examine it for yourself, to recall the recollections of my ability, my faithfulness, my know adherence to my word, or any other consideration of this nature; perhaps you might endeavour to obtain an interview, to remind me of the engagement, to ask for an explanation of any thing which might appear doubtful, and thus in various ways to ascertain the truth of that which appeared to you most important, which at one time you most firmly believed, though at present there might be some little uncertainty; and in this way your alarm and apprehension would gradually subside, your sense of obligation and gratitude be renewed; you would be ashamed, perhaps, of having been so weak and foolish as to give way to any apprehension, and be especially impressed with the kindness which induced me entirely to overlook your unfounded, perhaps, unreasonable suspicions.

But then, my dear madam, all

this anxiety, perplexity, apprehension, enquiry, &c. is connected with a measure of faith, though that faith may be in itself weak and defective. You would never in the first instance have rejoiced in my promise, had you not believed me to be at once both able, willing, and faithful. You would never have examined my letter, or sought an interview, or desired direction, had you not felt there was some truth in my original statement; while at the same time each renewed anxiety, enquiry, and assurance, will gradually make you more

stedfast and unmovable in the belief of the truth.

Now, if you apply this reasoning to the concerns of your soul, and the promises given unto you in the word of God, I think it may throw light on your actual state. Ó, there is a solemn fearful day of account coming, when we, considered in ourselves, shall be found debtors, and have nothing to pay.

Alas!

who may stand before this Holy Lord God Almighty; can thy heart endure, can thine hand be strong. But how is it that the very mention of this day fills you with alarm? Surely, because you are a believer whose mind is now led to dwell on the divine justice and holiness. Why is it that the proclamation of pardon and of righteousness through Christ, at all mitigates your alarm? Because you receive the proclamation as true, and therefore cast yourself on Christ with feeble and imperfect faith. A faith resembling, perhaps, his, who said, "If thou canst do any thing, have compassion on us, and save us." Why is it that you resort to the written word, to the throne of grace, to diligent selfexamination, to renewed application to Christ ? doubtless, because you believe the words of Christ, though you see not clearly your own personal interest therein. this agitation of mind, this anxious inquiry, this fear of coming

All

short, this apprehension of defect of faith is, however painful to yourself, a clear intimation to others of the reality of a work of grace in your heart, which will, I trust, eventually issue in holy composure, heavenly joy, and abundant fruitfulness.

That the early Christians rejoiced at the first hearing of the gospel, is most true--but consider what an amazing difference exists between their case and ours. They were brought up either under the yoke of Jewish rites and ceremonies, or under the gross blindness and darkness of Gentile superstition; when, therefore," the righteousness without the law" was proclaimed to the one; and the "life and immortality which are brought to light through the gospel" were made known to the other, they were brought as it were into a new world, they were changed from darkness to light, from the power of Satan unto God, and the change was so striking and so manifest, that it could neither be doubted nor denied by themselves or others. They speak of you, "how ye turned to God from idols; to seek the living and true God, and to wait for his Son Jesus Christ from heaven: even Jesus who delivereth us from the wrath to come." In like manner it frequently happens that persons who have been subjected to every disadvantage in early life, being most unexpectedly though most mercifully, brought under the sound of the gospel, receive with a degree of freshness and feeling, the truths of salvation, and enter at once into a very considerable degree of joy and consolation. They are indeed very apt to be puffed up, and the history of the church evinces that through their want of a sound judgment and more enlarged information, they are especially liable to be seduced into erroneous or heretical doctrines; the joy, however, and consolation which they experience, and the zeal and love which they display,

are oft-times most striking and encouraging.

My paper, however, warns me to conclude, though I have yet much to say, and which may probably form the subject of another letter, should you be so far satisfied with the present observations as to desire a more extended correspondence. I should, however, advise you, first, not so much to dwell on the subject of faith, and joy, and peace, which now occasion you so much perplexity, as to endeavour to lay hold by fervent prayer on the general promises of the gospel. "Seek and ye shall find, ask and ye shall receive, knock and it shall be opened unto you." Therefore, seek, ask, and knock, by fervent prayer, in the diligent study of God's word; with incessantly renewed application, and continued perseverance; whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved. Nor shall you, thus calling, be eventually disappointed.

2. I would say, Take care of confining your religion too exclusively to your closet. True religion begins in secret, and is carried on in retirement, in study, faith, prayer, reading, and meditating on God's word; but he that watereth others, shall be also watered himself, and you will rarely, if ever, find a lively Christian who is not also an active philanthropist, endeavouring to do good to others, visiting the sick, instructing the ignorant, relieving the distressed, doing what he can, though deeply sensible of much imperfection.

3. I would add, Beware of mak ing religion the only object of your attention. I feel for you in the situation you describe; it is melancholy to be shut out from public ordinances and have no Christian friend and companion : but who can tell what God may do by you. Strive to be an agreeable companion to those among whom you are placed. Be firm against sin, but be sure that you do not condemn that as sinful which is not clearly condemned in the word of God. Some Christians, situated as you are, impede their own usefulness, and prejudice others, through what appears to me mistaken views. They are not of the world--they will not therefore talk about worldly matters they will read nothing but what is religious, nor speak on any other subject. Beware of this spirit; try to become lively, agreeable, entertaining. If your friends like to read the last review, or poem, or popular publication,-provided it be not immoral-read with them and talk with them-you may have often opportunities of introducing more important topics which may eventually excite attention.

4. Guard against being too much alone; take care of your health; take active exercise; avoid late hours; remember that much religious melancholy arises from weak nerves, and the gospel is often blamed because its professors disregard medical advice, and prudent attention to minor matters.

May the Lord be with, direct, and bless you. AMBROSE.

ACTON.

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will. He will therefore let such amuse themselves, and quiet their consciences with a fancied artificial righteousness, that springs not of faith and so far from molesting them in the practice of it, he will strengthen them in it, and persuade them that it is a Babel by which they may ascend to heaven. With one that sets his heart on the religion of Jesus he takes another method if he cannot prevail with such an one to put his own righteousness in the place of Christ's merits, he labours to turn him from his scrupulous rectitude and holy fidelity; he assails him in the vitals of his profession, harasses and buffets him in his Christian walk, and perhaps lays his snares to procure for him a dreadful fall, by which means he causes him to wound his own soul, to bring a scandal on religion, and to become instrumental (as in the case stated by your correspondent) to the confirming the ungodly in his ungodliness. See here the secret working of the enemy of souls, by which he strengthens the rhetoric of the world against the truth, establishes the diabolical doctrine of human merit and sufficiency; and brands all profession with the name of hypocrisy.

SIR, I read in your number for June some observations on the 'Mischievous effects of Unsanctified Profession,' to the truth of which every Christian must painfully subscribe. The inconsistent conduct of professors stumbles many and causes the "weak brother to offend." Whilst I would strongly reprobate the negligent, culpable, selfish conduct of such persons, I would warn those who make no profession, to beware how these scandals affect them; their case is truly awful, they cannot be neutral without sin, they are bound by their baptismal vows and the sacred appellation of Christian to assume the vocation of the gospel, and not to lay it aside nor disown it, because of the slips of others. Let them remember that the failures and inconsistencies of professors arise from the weakness, not the strength of their religion, they are faults to be attached, not to the assumption of the profession, but to the defective maintaining of it. The standard and requirements of our holy religion are neither nullified nor lowered by the deviations of professors, they remain equally fixed and imperative upon all who are baptized into the Christian church, and form the code by which they will be judged, whether they have lived in open, and, perhaps, boasted indifference to all Christian profession, or whether they have assumed the holy calling and badly maintained it. Let it also be remembered that our "adversary the Devil, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour." And whilst he keeps men from a veneration for, and zealous attendance upon the gospel of Christ, he has them within his grasp, and can tear them at his

Sermons by the late Rev. Benjamin

Scott, M. A. Vicar of Bidford, and Priors Salford, Warwickshire. Edited by the Rev. Thomas Scott, M. 4. Perpetual Curate of Gawcott, Bucks. Svo. pp. xxiv. and 424. Seeleys. 1831. Sermons by the late Rev. Edward Payson, D. D. Pastor of the Second Church in Portland, in the United States. 8vo. pp. x. and 498. Holdsworth. 1831.

WE never take up a volume of Posthumous Sermons without somewhat of painful emotion; and this feeling is very much increased when, as in the first of these volumes, the author has not only been long and well known to us, but has from time to time favoured us with valuable communications. In too many instances indeed the ill-judging partiality of affectionate relatives and friends is injurious to the memory of departed worth, and hasty and incorrect preparations never intended for the public eye, are sent forth to the world, which has been thus led to entertain a very unfavourable idea of men eminent in their day and generation. On this point however the editors of the volumes before us have nothing to fear. The sermons both of Mr. Scott and Dr. Payson, though differing very materially in character, are yet honourable alike to their talents and piety, and though more especially adapted to different classes of readers, are yet every way deserving of general perusal.

Mr. Scott's Sermons are introduced by an interesting and valuable Preface by his brother the Editor, in which a brief but affecting outline of the deceased's history is given; including the painful particulars of his early removal, and some interesting statements with respect to the publication before us.

We regret that our limits prevent us from extracting more than the following paragraph, which relates more immediately to the sermons themselves, none of which were by the author intended for publication, being left with his other papers in a very defective state. The Editor observes

My brother, during much the greater part of his clerical life, was the pastor of a small village, and having a ready command of words and fluency of expression, though he wrote much for the pulpit, he never corrected his sermons, or coufined himself to what he had written; adding, omitting, or altering, as his own feelings, or the circumstances of the occasion, seemed to require. The Sermons, as printed, are therefore probably much shorter than they were when preached; particularly in the application, which he frequently made in an animated extemporary address. This apparent deficiency, may perhaps render them better adapted for family instruction, for which purpose they seem peculiarly suited.

The reader raust not expect to find in these discourses any display of brilliant talent, or any discussion on difficult and abstruse questions in theology. They were for the most part, addressed to the simple inhabitants of a country village, who needed instruction in the first principles of religion: and the minister was not unwilling to give them "line upon line, and precept upon precept," though this might expose his sermons to a charge of sameness, from which the Editor, even when making a selection, may not have succeeded in rescuing them. The subjects on which they treat are infinitely important, and such as require to be brought before all, with frequency and plainness. The preacher seems habitually to have had his own mind impressed with strong views of the depraved and ruined condition of mankind as sinners against God, both by nature and practice; and his anxious wish evidently was, to produce the same impression on the hearts of his bearers. This is a point which is much laboured in these discourses. Man is here exhibited as very far gone from original righteousness, and of his own nature