ledge on these subjects; but the degree of clearness and realization with which these things come up before the mind, must depend entirely on the degree of power with which they are exhibited to it by a spiritual influence. So John says, "I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day;" and then recounts the wonders which were revealed to him by that Spirit. So St. Paul says he was once in that state of rapture, that he knew not whether he was in the body or out of the body. These are extraordinary cases of spiritual communication; theologians call them the extraordinary influences of the Spirit; and spiritual perceptions of that class do not take place now. Still be it remembered that all true christian knowledge, is the same divine and mysterious Agent opening the understanding and impressing truth upon it, by His ordinary influences, giving the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of God, and strengthening men with might in the inner man, that they may be able to comprehend the love of Christ. In this way God, who was once afar off, draws near; His character, which was once unintelligible and shrouded in gloom, becomes bright and lovely; the dispensation of mercy in Christ clear and comprehensible, and heaven and hell near and distinct realities. This manifestation to the mind, grounded upon the faithful accept ance of the testimony, is a measure of the illumination of that same Spirit who sheds upon the prophet's sight the beams of future glory, who carries an apostle to the third heaven, and who gives the angelic host, and the spirits of the just, to know even as they are known.

Lastly. The believer has such an

affectionate and realizing sense of the existence of "the things which are not seen," that they become more influential with him than sensible things. Here is a criterion which must be of very general use. Many a Christian is unable to discriminate between the various operations of his own mind; but he knows how they issue in action. Now we affirm that a believer so looks at unseen things, as to have a greater influence proceeding from them upon his affections and conduct, than from the things which are round him, and which would otherwise naturally supply the motives of acting. "He endures as seeing Him who is invisible," and he chooses "rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season.' He says of every evil thing, "How shall I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?" His natural course would be, the love of the world, and the indulgence of the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life; but looking for this blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the Saviour, he denies all ungodliness and worldly lusts. And this effect is exclusively confined to the motions arising from a spiritual survey of the things not seen. Paul says, "It pleased God to reveal His Son in me;" and immediately he became the faithful, self-denied Apostle; and in his second Epistle to the Corinthians he says, "We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." And in this belief he says, "We faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day." And this is invariably the case in all

the children of God. A spiritual communication is established between them and God, in a measure similar to that which Adam enjoyed. It is as real, though as yet, in its degree, not so high and unrestrained; but it is sufficient for influence. All the Old Testament saints saw God through the shadows of a mystic and emblematic dispensation, and "looked for a city which hath foundations." The eye of the prophet saw "the King in His beauty," and the land which was yet afar off; and the sons of God, under the Gospel dispensation, who are led by the Spirit of God; who have received spiritual discernment, to know the things that are freely given to them of God; who walk, and pray, and live in the Spirit;-they see God in Christ as the world does not see Him; they recognize His gracious presence with them; they live with Him; they seek the heavenly city which He has promised; every day's experience, and every fresh departure of a saint, makes the land of rest more near and more evident. And in all these individuals, their conduct was under the regulation of these perceptions. They renounce this present world, and they live for the world to come. And the direct sanctifying influence coming upon the real believer, from the spiritual regard of God and His promised heaven, is such, that language seems hardly strong enough to satisfy the Apostle's mind in recording its efficient power. "We all," says he,

and be it remembered that he is describing the daily experience of the individual Christian,-"we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord."

We have endeavoured to elucidate a very difficult, but a very important subject, and to make out a very peculiar characteristic of him who really believes the Gospel to the saving of his soul. With a view to explanation, we have been, perhaps, rather metaphysical; but in this statement of facts, we believe that we have not gone beyond what each one experiences, who can conscientiously say that he has heartily and entirely received the Gospel offer of the remission of sins, and that all his conduct in this life is now guided by the motives which that Gospel supplies. The knowledge of this fact is of real value to him who is anxiously seeking for salvation; it affords him a strong evidence of the real state of his soul. For if we are turning away from mere earthly things, and looking to God and to His Christ, and to the glory promised through Him, we have the proof which an Apostle had that we are partakers of a nature more than mortal, and an assurance that when the sublunary enjoyments which we have learned to abandon shall disappear, we shall receive a kingdom that cannot be moved. We have here also an encouragement to proceed in the course which we have begun. Spiritual perception is a progressive attainment. To him who hath, more shall be given. He who seeks for it, finds. And the brighter our perception of God and eternity; of the unspeakable mercies of Christ, and the glories of His kingdom; the more heartily and unaffectedly shall we rise above the temptations and low gratifications which this carnal existence offers. Here is the great secret. Let us look to eternal things, and realize them; "fight the good fight of faith, and lay hold on eternal life;" believe

in sincerity that Christ has died to deliver us from this present evil world; love Him, though unseen, and we shall "rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory."

But this characteristic of the saints administers to all others, a test which ought to lead to very important results. We must bring it to bear upon our own hearts. If we find no superior pleasure in looking at unseen, eternal realities; if this kind of contemplation has not become the habit of our mind; if we do not attain, through Christ, to the knowledge of God, to the sense of communion with Him, and to this practical calculation upon His providential care; if the belief of the existence of heaven and hell does not operate as an influence, upon our conduct; we have no reason yet to think ourselves Christians. And further, in all these points we may be speculatively right, from the advantage of religious instruction, and we may mistake accu

rate opinions for the possession of converting grace. We suggest, then, this additional rule: if in our practice we habitually find, that it is the things which are seen at which we are really looking, and that they, in one form or other, have an interest, and a power, and a fascination with us, which eternal things have not; and that eternity is generally abandoned for time; and that earthly prospects of gratification, and earthly vanities, do habitually occupy us secretly; and that our desires after these things lead to speculating, and contriving, and arranging for indulgence in them, as far as we can command it;-then we are not yet believers; we have not looked at "the things which are not seen."

May the Eternal Spirit aid us in the right determination of this case, and stamp the needful conviction indelibly upon our hearts, that even yet "flee from the wrath to

we may come."

Φωνη τεθνηκότος.

"IF this man were not of God, he could do nothing," is an exclamation that may well fall from our lips, when a christian teacher first enters on a new scene of action. He is, to the outward eye, like a general who should present himself before a strong fortress, and hope to take it without engines of war. The preacher of the Gospel presents himself before the closed and fortified heart of man, but he has no earthly artillery by which to force an entrance. It is not by enticing words of man's wisdom that he must sue for admittance, nor dares he enter into an agreement or compromise with its defenders. He can but summon it to surrender in his Master's name; and if the citadel ever be

yielded, if the banner of the cross ever float on its top, the victory will be alone due to that Divine strength which has been "made perfect in weakness."

"Behold I send you forth as lambs among wolves:" thus did our Saviour characterize His disciples and the world; nor have his words even now ceased to be appropriate. Great as are the blessings which education and civilization have brought in their train, the heart of man still clings to its corruptions; and we are ever and anon startled by some violent outbreak, which shews that though the wolf may be chained, it has lost nothing of its natural ferocity. On the grovelling and the sensual, all re

sources of art and genius are brought to act in vain; like those foul creatures which have their home and food among the impurities of nature, wherever filth and pollution are to be found, there are they. Christianity has to contend both against what is loftiest and what is meanest among men. She has to strive both against those richlyendowed natures, who, like the fallen Satan, war against God by means of His own glorious gifts,-soaring towards heaven, if we may so say, only to carry on the warfare nearer to the Eternal throne, and also against those creeping things whose course is marked by their slime. Some, obdurate and apathetic, meet the most moving appeals of the Gospel with a stupid indifference; while others, aroused to resistance, turn upon the teachers of truth with contumely and violence. Yet over all kinds of opponents, and against every mode of persecution, Christianity has triumphed. Where man has been powerless, God has shewn Himself strong.

The

hardest hearts have been softened, and the Church has been kept alive amidst the hottest fires of persecution. God's strength has in all ages of the Church, been "made perfect in weakness.'

The Church commenced her triumphs without any aid from human power; while against her were arrayed the most inveterate prejudices and all the prevailing modes of thought and action. The sword was unsheathed for her destruction; but she bared her bosom to the blow, and pressed on. The sophist assailed her with his subtleties, but she left him entangled in the maze of his own arguments, and went on to proclaim the simple elements of truth. Great and wonderful were her victories, for it was God who was working in her. Manifold were her consolations, for the hand of Jesus sustained her. But soon, flushed with conquest, she began to rely on her own strength, and ungratefully to avail herself of alien arts, to confirm or widen a dominion that was rapidly embracing the world. Then was it that internal corruptions began to waste the vast body that was dignified with the name of the Church

of Christ; and the spiritual vine, which the sword of persecution had but pruned and made to produce a more abundant vintage, luxuriated into degeneracy beneath the quiet and warmth of prosperity. But in those parts of the Church which seemed outwardly weak and mean, her true strength was preserved. The light which was withheld from the gold and glitter of ceremonial pomp, shone on the retreats of the humble worshippers, in whom the true Church found her representatives in the darkest ages; and while some, eminent in station, outraged society by their excesses, obscure believers were feeding in private on the bread of life. Thus was the holy fire of Christ's religion kept alive even when it burnt on hidden and scattered altars; till, at length, through a more copious out-pouring of the Holy Spirit, it kindled into a widely-visible flame. As in the foundation, so in the preservation of the Church, God's strength has been "made perfect in weakness."

The

And if we consider what were the blessings to spring from the diffusion of the Gospel, we need not wonder that wealth and power have done so little to advance it. "The fruit of the Spirit is, love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance.' These are not things that we can spread abroad at the point of the sword or by gorgeous display. Love cannot be won by violence, nor true faith engendered by sophistry. Christianity, teaching us to keep our eye fixed on a perfect model, will not suffer us to be deluded by tawdry or deceptive attire. Christian wishes to be, not merely to appear; he is impatient, therefore, of show or artifice in others or in himself. It is because he is convinced that all things around him are fleeting and unreal,-phantasms, shadows, and dreams,-that he turns from them to send on his hopes to a better and an enduring substance. How should he then admit unrealities as a portion of his faith and practice, or think to make what is true, stand on a basis that is false? No; it is when stripped of all confidence in spurious aids, and to the eye of the world helpless and

weak, that he is most fitted to set out on his pilgrimage to that holy city, the gates of which fly back at the feeblest cry of true repentance. If we more clearly saw where the real strength of the Church lies, we should often perhaps rejoice, where now we tremble.

This reflection, that it is in God's strength, not in his own, that the Christian is fighting, yields an encouragement which he greatly needs in his conflict with surrounding iniquity. When the sensitive reader traces the sufferings of some victim of human tyranny or violence, when he follows some of those details of fiendish atrocity which the page of history or even his morning newspaper so frequently presents, how does he shudder and sicken over the hideous tale! And yet who can tell with what costly balm the wounds of the victims of those who have power only to kill the body, may hereafter be closed; or with what celestial draught the fainting sufferer may eventually be revived? But of those tortures which the tyrant Sin inflicts on the soul, what can be the end? What place of refreshment is there for him who shall bear into the other world the unclosed wounds of unrepented transgressions? Well, then, may the Christian's heart bleed as he looks round on the wide ravages of sin! And yet to stay the attacks of this tyrant, he can only oppose a feeble voice,-soon drowned in the tumult of the world and the passions; and he is often too in danger, through injudicious zeal or besetting infirmities, of injuring the very cause which he would die to serve. Blessed be God that "the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds!" And often when in respect of some incorrigible offender, we are inclined to abandon all prayer and hope, and to say, "He is dead: trouble not the Master any further," it would better become us to listen to

the encouraging_reply, "Fear not: believe only, and he shall be made whole."

As in the case of the Church at large, so in that of the individual Christian, the Spirit of God is wont to

make seasons of weakness His cho sen opportunities for the display of His

power.

When the sinner first becomes conscious of the purity of God's law, and his own sad condition as a transgressor, a period of utter weakness ensues. Humiliated, forlorn, prostrate in penitence, he feels most deeply the want of a support which no human arm can give. As we must die alone, as the soul must enter by itself into the world of spirits, so the soul awakened by God's grace feels itself called upon to step alone into a region of invisibility and mystery; and it trembles with conscious weakness as it enters upon that untried state. Old things seem flitting from the penitent's grasp, and he has not yet found strength to lay hold firmly on the hope set before us in the Gospel. The momentous interests at stake, impart a solemn intensity to the great trial going on in the chamber of his breast. Good and evil, life and death, are set before him; and who is to direct or fix the choice of his feeble mind. He is conscious that could he but open his eyes, he could take in an immensity of space, a flood of brightness; but that should he keep them wilfully closed, all must remain dark. Even while drawing nearer, as he at times believes, to the glory of heaven, he feels more and more his inability to approach it; and the distant notes of its music that strike faintly on his ear, increase his lamentations over the torpidity of his spiritual sense, that does not permit him to distinguish them more clearly. Paley has compared this great change of conversion to an escape from shipwreck. And when does a man feel so helpless as when the waves are howling around him, and his bark is dashed to pieces in their midst? But it is in this very weakness that strength lies. It is a bidding farewell to the gay vessel of our pride and pleasure, in order to take refuge in the ark. It is the letting go of an unstable object, preparatory to seizing on one that is firm. It is an exhaustion that brings him who feels it within the class described as

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weary and heavy laden;" and he may therefore feel assured that he is