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view to obtain justification, or come as a godly person to receive a recompence: in coming to the Saviour, he will bring nothing but his sins with him, in order that he may be delivered from them, and obtain an interest in the Redeemer's righteousness, in which he may be clothed, and stand before God without spot or blemish. But still the terms are such as to mark with the utmost force and precision that, from the office of justifying, works must be for ever excluded, and that we must, like Abraham, be justified by a righteousness not our own, a righteousness which cuts off all occasion of glorying, and which makes our salvation to be altogether of grace.

But, as to the apostle's arguments several objections may be made, we will endeavour to state and answer them.

1. "This statement of Abraham's being justified by faith is directly contradicted by St. James." St. James, it is true, does say that Abraham was justified by his works; and specifies the offering up of his son Isaac as the work for which he was justified; and further declares that in that act the passage quoted by St. Paul received its accomplishment, Jas. ii. 21-23. But here is no opposition between the two apostles, as the scope of the context in the two passages will clearly evince. St. James is evidently speaking of the difference between a living and a dead faith; and he shows that Abraham clearly proved his to be a living faith, by the fruits it produced, Jas. ii. 18. But St. Paul is speaking of the way in which Abraham was justified before

God; and the faith whereby Abraham was justified was actually exercised forty years before the time that St. James speaks of; which we consider as a decisive proof of these two things, namely that Abraham was justified (in St. Paul's sense of that term) by faith without works; and next, that St. James did not intend to contradict St. Paul, but only to guard his doctrines from abuse.

2. "Though it was not for offering up his son that God justified Abraham, yet it was for another act of obedience, namely, his submitting to circumcision."

This idea is entertained by many who oppose the doctrine of justification by faith alone; but it is as erroneous as that before stated; for Abraham had no son at all when he exercised faith in God's promises, and by that faith was justified before God; and he had waited some years in expectation of the promised seed before Sarah gave him her servant Hagar to wife; and Ishmael was thirteen years old when God renewed his covenant with Abraham, and enjoined him the use of circumcision: so that in this, as in the former case, Abraham was justified many years before the act took place for which our objectors would suppose him to be justified. And this is so important an observation, that St. Paul, in the verses following our text, dwells upon it with all the emphasis imaginable, deducing from it a truth which is of infinite importance to us, namely that as Abraham was justified in his uncircumcised state, he is is truly the father of us, uncircumcised Gentiles, as he is

of his lineal descendants, the cir- | men for the strength of his faith, cumcised Jews.

3. "If we are constrained to acknowledge, as indeed we must, that Abraham was justified by faith without works, yet that was a personal favour to him, on account of the extraordinary strength of his faith, and not to be drawn into a precedent for us." But this, also, is as erroneous as either of the foregoing objections; for though it is certain that he is celebrated above all

and that the exercises of his faith are recorded to his honour, yet it is expressly affirmed by St. Paul that "it was not written for Abraham's sake alone that faith was imputed to him for righteousness, but for us also, to whom it shall be imputed, if we believe on him that raised up Jesus from the dead, who was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification."

(To be continued.)

OLD

It was in April, 1847, that we were led to take up our residence in the beautiful and retired village of Silverdale, in the Bay of Morecambe. Our house was situated in a snug and sheltered cove, commanding a most extensive view of the whole bay, whose borders consisted of the utmost variety of lovely scenery.

In

THOMAS.

some parts the cliffs were rugged and abrupt; in others, the ascent from the shore was gradual and undulating, clothed with juniper and hazel, interspersed with wild heather and fern. In the distance to the west, were the picturesque ruins of Peil Castle, with the Isle of Walney stretching beyond; and to the south-east was the town of Lancaster, crowned with its noble castle, beneath which lay the pretty village of Poulton, which sent out its score of little fishing-boats at each returning tide. And to the north, far in the distance, rose the lake mountains, which gave to the whole scene a grandeur and magnificence hardly to be met with

in any other part of England. In fact, I have no hesitation in fixing upon this part of the Bay of Morecambe as one of the most lovely and beguiling nooks in all the kingdom.

It was here that we had taken up our abode. At the end of our garden was a rustic and oldfashioned cottage with its low and simple porch, small leaden casements, and gable end, with its ivy-mantled chimney. Once it was inhabited by a little haggard old woman, who used to pass amongst her neighbours for a witch; but now it was untenanted. Its old-fashioned door was secured by a rusty chain, and the pathway to it overgrown with weeds. We heard that an old couple had taken the cottage, and were soon going to enter upon it. One day as we were passing by the cottage, an old man came out of it. He was tall and robust, with a handsome countenance and hoary locks, and altogether venerable in his appearance. We spoke to him, and expressed our

hope that he would be comfortable in his new abode. As some addition had been made to the old part of the house, we asked him whether he would like to take some lodgers. He said, "I should not like to do that, as I have a tender wife, and have come to this house, thinking it would be warn and dry for her." We said we were glad he was fond of his wife, and took care of her. To which he replied, "I have no one else to take care of now, and I shall do all I can for her as long as please God I have her."

The old couple had not long settled in their cottage before we paid them a visit. We found them seated on either side of the fire-place, each in their armchair; each of them were between seventy and eighty. After a little conversation we were delighted to find that they were a God-fearing couple. They had throughout throu their lives made religion the first point, and had brought up their children in the fear and knowledge of the Lord. They had experienced severe trials throughout life, but all had worked for their good. They had buried several children, but in the depths of their sorrow they had been able to rejoice in the thought, that those dear to them had only exchanged a world of sin and grief, for one of holiness and

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do with his money? Did he take it to the ale-house, or hazard it in gambling? No; Thomas was a careful and prudent lad. After he had bought plain and decent clothes sufficient for himself, he took the rest to the Savings' Bank, and there deposited it in small sums as he received them. Such a careful lad was not likely to make a very bad servant. His master and mistress could always depend on him, and they might be sure that he would attend to his work behind their backs as well as he would before their faces.

In

When he was but a youth, a remarkable circumstance led to his first beginning to think seriously about his soul. One day he was sent out with the dog to look after the sheep in a stubble field. While he was tending the sheep, his dog ran after two leverets and caught them. his simplicity he brought home his booty, and put them upon the kitchen table. His master, wishing to frighten him, told him that the squire's gamekeeper would be after him and take him to gaol, and he had better get out of the way. The lad, much terrified, took to his heels and ran off into a barn, and crept to the top of a hay mow. After having remained there for some time he came down and ran across several fields, and lay down behind a wall. At this time he was in great terror, for he thought he had done wrong, and his conscience was awakened to a sense of sin. It seems that it was now for the first time impressed, so that being convicted of one sin, it became more open to conviction when other sins were pre

farm, and it was not long before he had the satisfaction of being

sented to its view. At last he returned home, and as he was passing through the farm-yard, ❘ the master of a flock of a hundred some of the servants saw him sheep. from the kitchen-window, and called him in, and told him he need not fret himself any more.

When the dear old man related this history to me, he remarked, that he could not at all account for the circumstance leading to his first beginning to think seriously, but so it was. He was very much frightened: he began to think that there was a God in heaven, that he had committed a sin against Him, and that he would be punished. At all events the circumstance had the happy effect of alarming his conscience, and making him begin to think about his soul.

I mentioned that Thomas A. improved each year, and rose into such estimation in the eyes of the different masters and mistresses in whose services he lived, that the longer he served the higher the wages he received. But the time of his servitude was drawing near an end. A mistress with whom he lived, being anxious to let her farm, Thomas applied for it. If he had been like most youths, careless of their earnings, and spending as much as they received, he would not have been in a condition to have done so; but having put into the bank all he could possibly spare out of his wages, he had a small capital which enabled him to commence farming on his own account. His mistress was only too glad to let him take her farm. She had found him an honest and industrious servant, and she doubted not he would prove as faithful a tenant. So Thomas took the

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He now began to think of finding for himself a helpmeet. And here the genuineness of his religion was put to the test. He married a young woman, who (as he told me fifty years after his marriage) always had the character of being of a "religious turn." And a good kind of turn this is. And, indeed, it is in reality a turn; for as we are by nature turned away from God, and averse from everything that is good, it is nothing less than a real and decided turn towards God that brings us out of our sins, and saves us from their awful consequences.

And if any young person is now reading this story, let me beg them to mark Thomas's conduct. He had a concern for his own soul, and when he thought of marrying, he chose a young woman who had a concern for her soul. Oh! young people, marriages out of the Lord are sad things; and unequal marriages are dreadful blots on religion. What does the Bible say? "Be ye not unequally yoked." Oh! when a religious young man marries a worldly young woman, who has not the fear of God before her eyes, he is committing a great sin. Or when a pious young woman gives her hand in marriage to an ungodly youth, she is doing what she will bitterly repent of some day, if she be a child of God. How can a lover and a hater of God dwell together in peace? How can a disciple of Christ and a child of Satan live together in happiness, and train up their children in the fear of God? One parent tells them one thing, and the other another; oh! it is altogether bad. It is a sin that God hates, and no blessing can ever rest upon an unequal marriage.

And here, reader, Thomas showed his consistency, and God did indeed reward him. He was blessed with godly children; and what greater reward can be bestowed upon religious parents in this life! One son was a farmer; and two others were schoolmasters, and one of these was a preacher of the Gospel; and out of his large family he and his wife had the blessed satisfaction of seeing several, if not most of them, walking in the ways of the Lord, and seeking the kingdom of God and his righteousness.

They

But Thomas and his wife Ellen were not free from the cares and anxieties of this mortal life. They had their share of sorrows. Much toil they had to pass through: they were made to know the ups and downs of life. had losses and gains in farming, and in their family they were called to mourn over the graves of children who were dear to them. They had what Thomas used to call "great exercise;" by which he meant that they had great difficulties to strive with. But the Lord's promise was made sure to them. God forsook them not, but "carried them even to hoar hairs." And it was at this period of their lives that they found a comfortable shelter in the pretty little ivy cottage at the bottom of my garden. They used often to say, "Never had we such peace and quiet before we came here: we have always

been in some trouble, but now it is all quiet." The Lord seemed to be giving them a resting-time before He called them hence. And a good use old Thomas made of this time of quiet, for generally you might find him in his armchair with a little chair by his side covered with books; there he had his large old Bible and a Book of Prayers, and Alleine's Alarm, and Friendly Visitors, and a book of Family Prayers, out of which latter book Thomas used to offer up a prayer every morning and evening. Ellen could not read, so Thomas used to read aloud to her.

They had lived in this cottage about six months when Ellen had an attack of influenza. We called in one afternoon and found Thomas sitting by the fire, who told us that his mistress was in bed in the next room with "inflenza," but he believed she would soon be right again. We said we would call soon again. Next morning, what was our astonishment and grief to be told, as soon as we awoke, "Ellen is dead."

I rose hastily from my bed, and ran to their cottage. There I found the poor old man bending over the fire, and quite alone. As soon as he saw me he seized my hand, burst into tears, and was quite convulsed with sobs. I said to him, "This is very sudden, Thomas."" He replied, "Aye, very sudden, very sudden." And then he told me that very early in the morning his wife had woke him up, complaining that her arms were so cold; upon which he rubbed them, which seemed to revive her. But all of a sudden she cried out,

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