rance, with all its kindred delusions and consequent dangers, or else, except in the rare, I might say the impossible, case of consciousness of absolute perfect identity of character, it is nothing worth without renewal. It either proves too much by impugning the character of God, or it proves too little, and avails nothing to human comfort.

66

It would, perhaps, be going too far to assert that God may not, to some favoured and muchtried servants, in some great and sore fight of affliction," give some private assurance of approaching and certain salvation; it is only contended that it is not the common heritage of his servants, and that its reception is neither essential to personal comfort, to meetness for Christian ordinances, nor to final salvation.

Nor, again, does our theory presume the Christian to be left forever in a state of anxiety and doubt, without the possibility of arriving at a comfortable hope or trust of " acceptance in the Beloved." On the contrary, hope, strong, abiding hope, is one of his special and highest privileges. "Joy and peace," not less than "love," are "fruits of the Spirit," heritages of the faithful. It is only contended (and here is the point of difference) that this hope or trust, which causes the penitent believer to "go on his way rejoicing," results from the promises of God, from his own con

sciousness that he is within the terms on which they are made, and from the ordinary soothing.

influence of the Spirit, but not from an express private revelation.

But, waiving all prolonged discussion of the mere mode of communication, let us be content with the cheering and comfortable fact that, in God's own way, and in his good time, the sweet sense of pardon is realized—“ a reasonable, religious, and holy hope" is indulged; there is lightness of spirit to him who was in heaviness-there is "joy unspeakable, and full of glory," to him who mourned for sin; there is a sense of holy nearness to God in him who before was "afar off;" there is a filial spirit of confiding love to him who had "suffered God's terrors with a distracted mind;" and when this spirit of adoption comes in its strength, and with its "perfect love casteth out fear," then can the penitent exclaim, in the fresh flow of his gratitude and joy, "Abba, Father;" for he feels that God is indeed his Father, his reconciled Father, and that he is one of the sons of God; and "if a son, then an heir, an heir of God, and a joint heir with Christ."

And now, what feelings accompany or follow this experience of healing? Those of deep and reverential joy, rather than of high, giddy, and mad excitement. The joy of the heart is indeed too deep and too sacred to have its expressions loud. It is rather disposed to say to itself, and to all its livelier emotions, "Be still, and know that it is God." The sorrow

and humiliation through which it has passed, the very death from which it has been raised, throw a chasteness over its gladness, and cause it "to rejoice with trembling." He who "has been saved so as by fire"-he who has escaped some sudden and imminent peril, he knows not how-he who, from the languishment of a painful wound, or the bed of wasting disease and of anticipated death, has been restored to soundness and life: all these, if the mind and the heart have been duly exercised, feel more than they can express, and express what they can, not in noisy and extravagant professions, but in solemn words that come from the heart, and in acts that speak more than words. Thus should it be with the spiritually healed, the spiritually saved. Some, indeed, imagine themselves compelled, irresistibly prompted to louder and less sober demonstrations of their joy. It would be uncharitable to question the sincerity of their conviction, and cruel, even were it possible, to restrict the mode of its manifestation. Be all left to their conscience and their feelings in the matter; the writer only asks for himself the liberty to indulge and to record his strong conviction, that the feelings which most naturally possess, and which best become him whose heart has been newly "bound up" by the hand of mercy, are those which would revolt from the "noise of the multitude" and the shout of triumph, and U

which would prompt him to muse in silence, or to praise with solemn awe.

Most affecting is the call, my readers, which is given by this binding up of the broken heart, for its subsequent unreserved dedication to him by whom it was healed. The praise of the lips is good in its place. It is the overflowing of the too full heart; but that heart itself feels that it is an inadequate return for unspeakable mercy. "A wounded spirit, who can bear?" Of a healed spirit what shall bound the gratitude? He who gives less than "the heart" which is bound up, less than himself, gives nothing; and to that man I confidently predict a return to sin, a renewal of sorrow, an end that shall be

66

worse than the beginning."

By this time, it is trusted that the reader will have contracted a sort of personal and friendly interest in the welfare of him whom he has followed through such marked and striking changes, and with whom he has seen God thus wondrously dealing. Having seen him in his sins, felt for him in his spiritual sorrows, rejoiced with him when those sorrows were soothed to rest, and listened to him with delight when he exclaimed, “The offering of a free heart will I give unto thee, O my God," let me ask him to accompany him farther, and to look upon him in the joy and purity of his last and best estate, his highest and noblest character, as "a new creature"-a servant of Christ-a man of God.

CHAPTER VI.

THE NEW HEART THE NEW MAN.

"Create in me a clean heart, Ó God; and renew a right spirit

within me."

"I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart of flesh."

"That ye put off concerning the former conversation, the old man which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts; and be renewed in the spirit of your mind, and that ye put on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness."

"If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature."

"In Christ Jesus, neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature."

THESE declarations cannot be explained away. They evidently mean something, and something, moreover, that is important. Their reference is as evident as their import is marked. It is to the actual experience and blessed effects of that spiritual change, the indications and preparatory stages of which have already been exhibited. A subject more important could scarcely be presented to human consideration may its intrinsic importance secure to it a candid perusal.

There has been, it is to be feared, a degree of vagueness and studied ambiguity in the manner of speaking and writing on this subject, which has tended to give equally vague and confused ideas. An air of mystery has