Publish not his follies, failings, sins! Believe all things,hope all things, -endure all things! Rejoice not in iniquity, but rejoice in the truth! Go, hover in spirit like an angel o'er him, when with pangs of contrition and earnest pleadings he breathes his prayers to Jesus! Realize the secrets of his closet. Can you ponder unmoved that spirit wrung with conscious guilt? What though it has yet but partial discernments, "many things to learn, and " cannot bear them" now! Are you never in the posture of that sinful one? Look then, upward, and see for him that smile of consolatory sympathy, which seems an instant echo to his plea for pardon through the atoning blood! See then, again, how, drying his penitential tears, he comes from the holy place on to the battle of life, the more than bloody conflict with sin,-girding up the loins of his mind, putting afresh, with tremulous hand, "the hope of salvation" for a helmet on his head, and again arranging himself in the armour of God; nor dare to say that, should you see him wounded again, that armour once more tarnished, that conscience pierced afresh with poisoned arrows, you will own his brotherhood no more! Is your charity so sublimated that it must exclude the wounded and disfigured warrior from the honours of the war? You, happy victor, so successful in the strifes of Love and Truth against Self and Sin!-you, who wear no scars of conflict, and never yet lay prostrate and moaning amidst the horrors of a wounded conscience and a bleeding heart, nor ever agonized amidst the slain through an awful night of cold and black despair,-be an alien if you will, but scorn if you dare, the griefs of those who endure such woe! One there is who is "touched with the feeling of our infirmities," because he was "tempted in all points like as we are, yet without sin." "The Lord knoweth them that are his." Their worst dishonours hide them not from his eye. "Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones who believe in me;" for "whoso shall offend one of these, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were drowned in the depth of the sea. So with wrathful denunciations does the Saviour shield from injury all who have the characteristic of the penitent believer, though it appear blended with the simplicity, imperfectness, and helpless dependence of the little child.

The common principle is not always perhaps sufficiently palpable to your eye; but, "who hath despised the day of small things ?" Who crushes beneath his murderous feet the infant's tender life, or tramples indignantly upon every fragile form? Who dashes away the first faint sparks of light, or looks with a scowl upon the morning's partial rays, or sneers at the buds and leaflets of the spring, or turns impatiently from the oft repeated strokes of the artist's chisel, because of their manifest, though really diminishing imperfections? Who? The mere idiot-the barbarian the hypocrite may; but not the child of God. "The bruised reed will he not break, nor quench the smoking flax."

Imagine the disciples surrounding their Lord when he uttered those memorable words, "One is your Master, even Christ; and all ye are brethren." Suppose one to reply, "Lord, how can we all be brethren? See this rash, impetuous, and passionate Peter; so sensitive and irascible, and so destitute of self-command, that we are indignant at his inconsistencies! See yonder snarling Judas, displeased with everything and everybody, assuming such lordly airs, who carries the bag, and provokes charity itself to suspect his honesty! There, too, is the suspicious Thomas, and the taciturn Andrew, who seems to have but half a heart with us! Nay, Lord, we will love Thee, but to pledge ourselves to

all these we cannot; it is not in human nature!" Howaternity with

disciples of

a later day would have echoed such a speech? But are we ignorant of the reply it would have called forth? "Who art thou that judgest another man's servant ? To his own Master he standeth or falleth."

"These are my servants, not yours." And if in them there is evident imperfection and discordance with my will, blended with their professed attachment, "What is that to thee? Follow thou me." The criticism of the heart belongs not to you. "Love as brethren; be pitiful; [be courteous;" "forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man hath a cause of complaint against any; even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you. So also do ye."

The Christian life has a common hope. It is fixed on Christ alone. Those who believe in him for salvation, are like those who have together escaped from a disastrous wreck, amidst a fearful storm, and who cluster side by side upon a lone rock, over which still the tempestuous billows are breaking. One death is escaped; the immediate has been exchanged for the proximate; the necessary for the possible. Yawning graves in ceaseless variety of form are still around them; and life, eternal life, depends upon their firm adherence to that rock, which ages with all their storms can never move. I see the goodly fellowship, "having nothing, and yet possessing all things." I see, when despair clouds a countenance, or grief wrings a heart, how the cheering hand, and look, and aspect, of a brother changes him to peace. And now and then as the surging waves tear one from his hold, or drag him from his footing and whelm him in the element of death, how many hands stretch forth for his rescue,-how evidently do all hearts centre their care upon his welfare! Yes; in that forlorn looking band of men from different climes, and of different rank, how true and pure is the fraternity of hope! A common danger, and a common hope, impart a cementing power. There are powers there which the selfishness of human nature cannot withstand, and man feels the spirit-link binding him to fellowship with his fellow man.

So do we cling to Christ. We have all but one refuge, one hope, one ground of confidence. Hence we look together upon that wild wilderness of waves in which so many have perished, and from which on Christ alone we have security. Here all our life is love. The rock itself is a foe to him who has no brotherhood. It is bleak, and barren, and pitiless. He cannot live upon it. The cutting winds persecute him. The billows roar hideously against him. He cannot stand. The rock disowns him, and seems with an angry thrust to say, "depart!"

The Christian life has but one heritage. "We labour that, whether present or absent, we may be accepted of him." Heaven is the approbation of God. Conscience is to our souls here but a dim shadow of that which God will be to the spirit hereafter in its perpetual consciousness. "His favour is life, and his lovingkindness is better than life." Not so vivid now are the smiles or frowns of conscience upon the soul, as will be then its recognition of the Deity. No possible diversion of thought will be there; no power of mental obscuration as here from the actually spiritual and everlasting.

Each believer in Christ has, therefore, his final reward in the love of his Saviour and his God. "I will come again and receive you unto myself." "I will be his God, and he shall be my son." The love of God in Christ will be the very element of all heavenly joy. Without this, its utmost radience could shed no glory on the heart; its richest beauty could awake no ecstasy within the soul; its sweetest melodies could waft no bliss around the deathless spirit. What, without it, would be the walls of jasper, the gates of solid pearl, the streets of crystal gold, the trees of life, and river of living water? What would be the multitudes untold, the glittering crowns, the long procession of choristers with their waving palms and anthems of peace? What but appearances; cloudy, brilliant, unsubstantial, hanging in the distance from the spirit, and passing it by ? What but mere external things, formless and ungratifying to the solemn

soula pageantry like that of summer evening clouds, serving merely to beguile thought from the real and only deathless joy? Heaven is the favour and love of God manifested to his children individually. In this all these are brethren. All may possess, but not one can engross that love, or restrain its exercises towards another. Herein all shall find eternally their perfect bliss. Before his throne there shall be no jealousies. In the light of his countenance there can be no uncharitableness. Evil surmis ings shall thence be far away. The rapture of eternal glory shall be that of perfect self-denial and unrestricted love. The utmost thought of God for man is, to achieve and perpetuate this moral perfection and harmonious life.

} Let Christians, then, be warned against every personal deviation from the spirit of love. Such deviations inflict their own penalties. He is self-ruined who does violence to his own spiritual life, from whatever cause. He is self-blessed who can best withstand those influences which militate against it. "Whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, IT WERE BETTER FOR HIM that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea." The one evil could not separate him from the family of God, but the other assuredly would. How infinitely better to suffer the infliction of the most violent natural death, than, from any consideration, to be driven to commit a spiritual suicide! What though our brethren should forget their brotherhood! What if it be but by conflict with ourselves, and "taking up the cross daily," that we preserve conformity to the Saviour's will, and cultivate a greater meetness for heaven than for earth! Will it not be worthy of the followers of Him who planted his bleeding feet upon every thorn lying in the pilgrim's way, and loved the very suffering which achieved another's good?

Romney, Huntingdonshire.

WHAT ARE YOU TO CHRIST?

BY THE REV. JAMES SMITH.

The love of Christ and his people is reciprocal, so also is their interest in each other. Christ is to his people their portion, possession, and special treasure; they live upon him, rejoice in him, and look to him, under all circumstances, for all they need. This is truly gracious; but not so wonderful as the consideration of what the christian is to Christ-the least, the feeblest, the most imperfect christian; for the connection and interest depend on the reality, not the degree, of christianity. The least member is part of the body, though most distant from the head, or generally concealed from view; so every christian is one with Christ, beloved by Christ, and exceedingly dear and precious in the sight of Christ. As we have considered what Christ is to the christian,* let us, then, for a few moments, look at what the christian is to Christ.

He

Believer, have you considered what you are to Jesus? If so, you will be prepared to answer the question; and though you may be obliged to think before you know where to begin, as also where you are to stop, yet you will be at no loss to answer as to some points. You will be prepared to say, "I am the purchase of his blood." He had set his heart upon me. was determined to possess me. But as he would do nothing dishonourable, and as divine justice had arrested me, he determined to purchase me. The price demanded was great beyond calculation. The whole universe, apart from himself, was insufficient. Nothing would meet the demand

"

but his own blood, his own life, himself. Having made up his mind, nothing could change his purpose, or alter his determination. He said, "They shall be mine." And, therefore, "he gave himself for us, He redeemed us with his own "precious blood, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot." We, therefore, "are not our own, being bought with a price." We are the purchase of his blood, who "is Lord of all." He never forgets the price he paid for us, or the value he set upon us; nor let us ever forget that we are his property, but let us endeavour, always and everywhere, to glorify him in our bodies and spirits, which are his. "I am the object of his care." He careth for us. His care is constant, tender, and extends to our minutest affairs. "The very hairs of our head are all numbered" by him. He cares for our persons, comforts, and all our concerns. He, therefore, directs us to lay low at his feet, and confide in his care, saying, "Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time; casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you." He exhorts us to be prayerful and thankful, but neither anxious or careful, saying, "The Lord is at hand. Be careful for nothing; but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God: and the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." Jesus cares for his people always and everywhere: at home,-abroad, in sickness,-in health,-in prosperity,-in adversity,in life,-in death. He withdraweth not his eyes from them, but ever cares for them, watching over them to do them good. He is the kind and careful Shepherd, that cares for every lamb in his flock, for every sheep committed to his trust.-"I am the child of his providence." Brought by it upon the stage of time. Placed by it in my present circumstances. Dependant upon it for all my various supplies. On the bosom of his providence I lean. In the hand of his providence I trust. To the resources of his providence I look. His providence is my parent. It provides for me. It sends to me. It daily supplies me. It has anticipated my necessities. It demands my confidence. It tries my faith. But it always supplies my wants. Providence is Jesus in action to do his people good. He hides himself often behind his instruments, or what we call second causes; but he is ever present, providing for and supplying the wants of all who place confidence in his word. His promise tells me what he will do, and his providence just does what he has told me. I cannot, then, be either friendless or fatherless, for the providence of Jesus acts toward me a father's part. "I am the subject of his intercession." He ever liveth to make intercession for me. He never forgets or loses sight of me, My name is on his priestly breastplate, my concerns are all under his eye. His blood speaks for me. His influence is exerted for me. He lives in heaven for my good. He is my counsellor,-I am his client. He is my advocate,-I am his brother for whom he pleads. His intercession brought me up out of the horrible pit, and out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock. His intercession supports my faith, and frustrates the malicious designs of Satan. His intercession brings down ten thousand blessings, and prevents innumerable evils. Sweet thought this-Jesus intercedes with his Father for me. Yes, in all times of dark ness and distress,-in all seasons of danger and depression,-when my heart is cold and prayerless,-when my faith is weak and wavering, when my hope is feeble and faltering,-when my love is reduced to a spark, or appears extinguished, then, yes, then, Jesus intercedes for me. When Satan tempts me on earth, or accuses me in heaven,-when all within and without is dreary and distressing, then, yes, then, Jesus intercedes for me. This moment, and every moment, Jesus makes me the subject of his powerful and prevailing intercession. “I am the temple of

his Spirit." The Holy Spirit has taken possession of me in his name. He dwelleth in me. My very body is declared to be the temple of the Holy Ghost. He came to me as the Spirit of Christ. He claimed me as the Spirit of Christ. He entered my heart as the Spirit of Christ. By his work he proves himself the Spirit of Christ. He daily keeps me sensible of my need of Christ. He shews me the exact suitability of Christ. He leads me out of self to Christ. He teaches me to renounce every other name but the name of Christ; so that I build on him, and on him alone, for pardon, peace, and final acceptance with God. The Spirit of Christ dwells in me this is my evidence that I am Christ's. How wonderful, that a nature so depraved, that a creature so insignificant, that a sinner so vile, should be constituted, consecrated, and acknowledged to be the temple of the Spirit of Christ! Yet so it is!"I am the epistle of his love." Manifestly declared to be the epistle of Christ. His truth is written on my heart by the finger of his own Spirit, and I am sent into the world to bear witness of his love. He sends by me to sinners. He speaks by me to sinners. He opens by me his loving heart to the guilty sons of men. He says, "Go publish in every direction, in characters and terms that all can read and understand, that I am Jesus,—that I save the vilest, that I save freely, that I save all that come unto me,-that I delight to save any, even the foulest transgressors,--that I not only save, but raise those whom I save to the highest dignities, and confer on them the greatest honours. Proclaim abroad, that my heart is love,—that my blood has made an infinite atonement for all sin,-that I am exalted to give repentance and pardon,-that I have made peace between God and all that come unto him through me." Oh, wondrous mercy, to constitute me his epistle of love! But if I am really a christian, I am a living, authentic, and useful epistle of Christ.-"I am a joint heir with heirs of the eternal inheritance." Jesus is appointed heir of all things. All things are committed unto him by his Father. He has all power and authority in heaven and in earth. He claims the universe as his own. But with a special reference to the inheritance that is incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for the saints, the apostle has said, "If children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint heirs with Jesus Christ." But what tongue can tell, what heart conceive, what is included in being a joint heir with Christ? The blessing seems to be vast as God's loving heart, and boundless as God's own eternity. Well may it be said, "We know not what shall be." Nothing could please us better than to add, "But when he shall appear, we shall be like him." Like him! this is just what we desire. Like him! this is the sum of all our prayers. Like him! this stretches to the utmost bounds of all real excellency. Like him! this is doing for us exceeding and abundantly above all that we can ask or think. Like him! this is conferring on us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.

Oh, believer, what privileges are thine! What dignities are conferred on thee! How favoured, how honoured, how glorious art thou! How much Jesus makes of thee. Can he possibly make more of thee than he does? He calls you his love, his dove, his undefiled. He considers you as of more value than his own comfort, or even his own blood. He was willing to labour and suffer for three-and-thirty years, and then to die the most painful, shameful, and ignominious death for thee. And he has never ceased to think of thee, or taken his eye off thee for one moment, since he brought thee on the stage of time, but especially since he called thee by his grace. Thou art the purchase of his blood, the object of his care, the child of his providence, the subject of his intercession, the temple of his Spirit, the epistle of his love, and a joint heir with him of the eternal inheritance. What canst thou be more?Can he esteem