of those which call for a greater sacrifice:or if he do not play some other and equally compromising part; if he do not commit certain evils, he will omit certain duties: if he be restrained from open transgression, he will cherish iniquities of the heart. The actings of his mind do not come under his careful inspection. There is a light rein to the workings of a depraved fancy. There is no critical scrutiny of his motives. There is no inquiry into the tenour of his desires. The want of substantial principle excludes all possibility of regular and permanent benefit.-Even the external appearance of good may be temporary, irregular and fitful. Now it is the opposite of all this which takes place. in a mind renewed unto repentance in God.

In the first of these cases there is no ground of humility, because here is no self-loathing,no distressing sensation of the power of indwelling depravity. And the failure, therefore, of an attempt to remove any evil is not a matter of great uneasiness: because, while it can be attributed to natural infirmity, he is satisfied in casting all the blame there, and acquires a feeling of self complacency in the act of doing So. To him there is here no additional reason for hating the dominion of sin.

The true penitent, on the contrary, exclaims with the Apostle on every such discovery"Oh wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" while he sinks into the dust of self abasement; and wonders at the extent of that grace which could pardon guilt of so deep a die. His faith, and repentance, and this knowledge of himself, 'constitute the true foundation of humility. Charity for the faults of others, and a love for those who bear the image of God, are inseparable accompaniments. So true is it, that where one genuine grace exists, the rest of the train will likewise be.

I need not trespass further on your time by describing the fruits of repentance, as they are commonly called in the life of the penitent. The Apostle Paul seems to have summed up all these in a short sentence addressed to the Church of Corinth: "For behold this self same thing that ye sorrowed after a Godly sort, what carefulness is wrought in you, yea, what clearing of yourselves, yea, what indignation, yea, what fear, yea, what vehement desire, yea, what zeal, yea, what revenge!"*

You see, then, that he who inquires into the

* 2 Cor. vii. 11.

meaning and character of true repentance, is looking for the evidence of a change of heart, and not for that which he is to find previous to his approach to God.

Adieu, Dear Sir, may it be yours to "look unto Him," who in dying for our transgressions made more manifest our guilt, while he displayed the fullness of his mercy.

Very truly yours.

©�་་

LETTER XIII.

An Inquirer reviewing his past cares-A remarkable period in his lifeThe simplicity of faith-A temptation to hold back from Christ-Natural incredulousness-The afflicted Father's application to Christ-The case applied to the Inquirer-The workings of the Inquirer's mind-His surrender to Christ-The change-Difference in different cascs-The act in which relief most commonly arrives-Not always the same-Valedictory.

MY DEAR SIR,

To him who entertains a hope that he has found the great object of his search, a review of his past solicitude, and of the fluctuations of his doubts and fears-comprising, as they do, a painful history-will end in astonishment at his own perverseness. This may not be equally the case with all. But there will be few

who will not discover that much of their time has been expended in the removal of misconceptions-in correcting errors-in looking for some new rules-in attempting to pry into the secret purposes of God-or to complete the work of the Saviour-in vain fancies of the future, or endeavouring to cultivate patience to wait for the gift of faith. A retrospect of past life, in its ordinary details, presents a melancholy group of circumstances to most of us. But a review of the season of conviction of sin, and the application for mercy, brings before us a crowd of distressing images. We are astonished at an infatuation so visible in our present state of mind, and at our great ignorance of things which now appear so perfectly plain. But, above all, we wonder at our rejection of knowledge, or our misapplication of it; and at our obstinate efforts to render intricate and complex, what was distinguished by its simplicity. It is now, for the first time, we understand the spirit of the Syrian general's reply to the prophet-" Are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel?" And the force of his servant's answer, "My father, if the Prophet had bid thee do some great thing, wouldest thou

not have done it? how much rather then, when he saith to thee, wash and be clean?"

But there may be a period in our history, reached before this, when we are able to look back, and retrace the relinquishment-the reluctant relinquishment of one point after another, and find ourselves wholly unable to distinguish a single remaining impediment visible near us: and yet still nothing of a distinctive character on which to rest a wearied and disconsolate mind: the past a painful survey: the future blank

"Poor child of doubt and death, whose hope was built on reeds!"

A state such as this, seems something like a pause in the moral career of the subject. There is an eventful silence, in which the exhausted passions seek a respite from their toil, and the flagging spirits, wearied by their excitement, sink into the languor of despondency. Or, if no such marked effect succeed the restlessness and chafing of the Inquirer, after he has at last seen all hindrances to his salvation resolved into his own fault, and his artificial resources from pain removed-there is most usually still a momentary calm broken by a voice that announces a partial possession of the very boon