dience and that, too, to the first and greatest commandment, by which we are called upon to love the Lord with all our heart, strength. and soul. Though the hand should be subject -though the mouth should be subject-though all the organs of the outer man should be subject, yet it availeth nothing if the mind is not subject. You could sell all your goods to feed the poor-you could compel your hand to sign an order to that effect, you might do all this, says the apostle Paul, speaking by the Spirit, and yet have nothing-because you have not the right principle of love. It is not the act, but the principle, on which God stamps the testimony of his approbation; and, if this be withheld from him, with all your painful and multiplied attempts at obedience, your mind is carnal-is not subject to the law of God.

A conviction of the justness of these representations will lead to the perception that our personal guilt in the sight of God may be of a far deeper and more alarming kind than men in general may be aware of. But the effect of such a conviction should be to lead the heart to a state of decision with respect to the blessings which are offered in the Gospel. There is a large number of individuals who cherish a regard for the Christianity of the New Testament, but without a full and final acquiescence in it,-who are halting between two opinions in reference to it,-who, in particular, are not sure where their sole dependence for salvation should be placed-whether singly on their own performances, or singly upon the righteousness of Christ, or jointly upon both. We trust that, by the Divine blessing, the perusal of these pages may have the effect of bringing this unsettled account more speedily to its termination. have hitherto, perhaps, been under the impression that the condition of man was not just so bad as to require a Saviour, who must undertake the whole of his cure, and bring about the whole of his salvation. You have attempted to share with the Saviour in the matter of his redemption: instead of looking at it with the eye of the apostle, as being all of grace or all of works, you have, in some way or other, attempted a compromise between them; and this has the undoubted effect of keeping you at a distance from Christ. You have not felt your entire need of him, and, therefore, you have not leaned in close and constant dependance upon him. But let the torch of a spiritual law be lifted over your character, and, through the guise of its external decencies, reveal to you the mountain of iniquity within,

You

let the deformity of the heart be made known, and you become sensible of the fruitlessness of every endeavour, so long as the consent of a willing cordiality is withheld from the person and

authority of God,-let the utter powerlessness of all your duties be contrasted with the perversity of your stubborn and unmanageable desires,—and the case is seen in all its helplessness; you despair of salvation in one way, and you are led to look for it in another. The question, whether salvation is of grace or of works, receives its most decisive settlement: when thus driven away from one term of the alternative, you are compelled, as your only resource, to the other term. You feel that nothing else will do for your acceptance with God, but the acceptance of the offered Saviour. You stand at the foot of the cross-you make an absolute surrender of yourself to the terms of the Gospel.

And we know not a more blissful or a more memorable event in the history of the human soul, than when convinced that there is no other righteousness than in the merits, and no other sanctification than in the grace, of Jesus Christ: it henceforth glories only in his cross; and now that every other expedient of reformation has been tried, and has failed of its accomplishment, it takes to the remaining one of crying mightily to God, and pressing, at the throne of grace, the supplication of the psalmist "Create in me a clean heart, O God; renew a right spirit within me."-Psalm li. 10.

One thing is certain;-you are welcome, at this moment, to lay hold of the righteousness which God has promised in Christ Jesus-you are welcome, at this moment, to the use of his prevailing name in your prayers to the Father-you are welcome, at this moment, to the plea of his meritorious obedience, and of his atoning death-and you are welcome, at this moment, to the promise of the Holy Spirit, given to all who ask-(Luke xi. 9-13) -whereby the enmity of their carnal minds will be done away; God will no longer be regarded with antipathy and dislike; he will appear in the face of Jesus Christ as a reconciled father; he will pour out upon you "the spirit of adoption."—Rom. viii. 15. You will walk before him without fear; and those bonds being loosed, wherewith you were formerly held, you will yield to him the willing obedience of those whose hearts are enlarged, and who run with delight in the way of his commandments.— Psalm cxix. 32.

THE ENGLISH MONTHLY TRACT SOCIETY,

27, RED LION SQUARE, LONDON;

AND

J. F. SHAW, BOOKSELLER, SOUTHAMPTON ROW, LONDON.

J. & W. Rider, Printers, Bartholomew Close, London.

A NARRATIVE.

TOWARDS the close of a fine autumn day a carriage was seen winding down the road which led to C. It drove to the door of one of the pretty cottages ornées, which studded the valley towards the mouth of the river. Two gentlemen were seen to alight from it; and neither of them such as we pass without observation. The elder appeared to border on fifty years; tall, not robust, yet apparently athletic in frame, with a countenance of lofty and intellectual expression. The other individual was a young man, seemingly not more than two or three and twenty, slight and graceful in figure; resembling the elder, but fair and florid, perhaps hectic in complexion, lofty and intellectual too in expression. As they descended from the carriage, and turned to gaze on the beauties around, it was evident the younger of the two was warm in his admiration, and would fain have lingered to gaze on a scene so lovely, had not the elder gently forced him to the house.

The clergyman to whom this district was intrusted, alike unwilling to be obtrusive or neglectful, made it a part of his duty to gain sufficient knowledge of the circumstances of those who visited C- to enable him to offer such aid as might be most useful.

He called, as was his wont, in a few days: "Not at home," was the answer. In a day or two he repeated his visit: "The gentlemen were at dinner :"-cards were left at their residence. He called again, but was not admitted—it was evident his visits were declined. In a common case he would probably have rested here, feeling he had done his part; but some intelligence he had received from a friend at Oxford had deeply excited his interest. From him he had learned that the elder of the two was a man whose character for talents, for high and honourable feelings, for intellectual powers, was of the highest order. But, alas! the one thing which could sanctify and direct all to the best ends was wanting: he was an infidel. Left early a widower, by the death of an adored wife, who expired in giving birth to his only son, his whole soul had centred in him. And he, though his father knew it not, was already doomed to an early grave; hastened thither by the very efforts to fulfil his father's wishes, in his attainments at the university. And he, too-the young, the talented, the beloved of all hearts-he too, on the very verge of the tomb had been

educated an infidel; or, at any rate, had never been instructed in religious principles, other than as a matter of speculative philosophy-a system devised by man to rule the multitude. Could it be a marvel that one who watched for souls set his whole mind and thoughts on seeking to win him, ere too late, to the fold of his Master-the great Shepherd of souls?

But days and even weeks passed away, and no opening came. He was almost desponding, and grieved to the soul as he marked, at intervals, increasing appearance of disease, when Providence brought his wish to pass, in a mode and time least expected.

He had been riding some distance, and was returning, towards evening, when, in turning a corner of the road, he perceived the two objects of his solicitude before him. The elder had apparently been thrown from his horse, and hurt; for he was sitting on a bank, bleeding from a cut on the forehead, and seemingly in much pain: his son sitting by him and sup porting him. He instantly alighted to offer assistance. It was thankfully accepted; and this event insured the introduction which had been so anxiously sought.

It was some time before the suffering parent was able to resume his rides, and the young man was glad to have so intelligent a companion as the curate of C -. They soon were accustomed to ride together daily: geology, botany, scientific pursuits of various kinds, drew them together; as well as that enthusiastic love for nature, under all her varied forms of beauty, which formed so strong a bond of union. As winter drew on, their rides were interrupted, but not their intercourse; and when, after Christmas, the father was forced to attend his parliamentary duties, and it was considered advisable for his son to pass the spring months in the West of England, he left him happy in the society and under the care of his new friend. And well was it for him that that friend was one who united to the most earnest and exalted piety a mind of the highest powers, and an intellect refined and acute.

And

The colder weather soon produced painful increase of disease to Henry D, although he was himself unconscious of any dangerous tendency; but cold upon cold, and almost constant cough, rendered confinement to the house necessary. need I say that every hour to be spared from pastoral duties was devoted to this unconscious victim? and closely had his many excellencies of natural character entwined him round the affections of his friend, whose anxiety for him daily increased. Already he had so ordered their course of reading as that religion had been brought before him; and different thoughts were

excited from those which he had imbibed. Still Henry never made any observation that could provoke discussion; and, but for what he had heard from undoubted authority, his companion might have construed his silence into tacit assent.

It happened one day that he did not come as usual to dinner Henry was ill, and even depressed in spirits. He missed his friend-never had he disappointed him before: but hours passed away, and he came not. Henry at length despaired of seeing him that night; when about ten o'clock he entered. "I have been," he said, "since noon attending a death-bed, under peculiarly painful circumstances. But I am somewhat agitated, and will say no more to-night: it is your bed-time, and I am fatigued, so farewell till to-morrow."

Henry urged him to take some refreshment; but he refused, saying he needed to be alone.

"Tell me only who is dead."

The name of the deceased was mentioned.

66

Why, he was in perfect health a few days since !"

"He was; and now his mortal frame, lately so full of life and vigour, is inanimate clay; his spirit has passed away into eternity. But I will say no more now: farewell."

On the following day, it was evident the event of the preceding night had been a cause for reflection; Henry was thoughtful, and seemed almost afraid of touching on the subject. But the event had roused his friend to a determination to let no more precious time pass without bringing forward the one great object of his desire. He related to him that the deceased had taken cold a short time previously; but, engaged in the pursuits of pleasure, he neglected it; went to a party, from whence he had walked home heated with dancing: rapid inflammation followed: all medical aid was vain; and he died after a few days of acute suffering,

After dinner that day, as they sat together sad and thoughtful, Mr. M- suddenly rose, and, after walking up and down

the room for a few minutes, seated himself near his friend, and, looking at him earnestly for a moment, said, "Henry, I have something very serious and solemn to speak to you about. Are you well enough for a lengthened conversation ?"

Henry was evidently agitated by some unusual and undefined emotion; but after a pause replied, "Yes, dear MI am quite equal to listening to anything you have to say."

M." Then I will speak, and relieve my mind from a weight which presses on it very heavily. Our acquaintance is not of very long date; but our constant intercourse has given us a greater insight into each other's characters than