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come short of the glory of God; that, however well she might have thought of herself, or her connections have thought of her, she was "by nature a child of wrath even as others." She awoke as from a profound sleep; she had dreamed of peace and security, but she was awakened by the stings of an accusing serpent coiling round her heart.

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These discoveries, in the first instance, were not acceptable to her mind. She could not welcome a light that revealed only forbidden objects; she could not at once throw up the hope and confidence in which she trusted; she was unwilling to allow that all her actions and thoughts partook of the nature of sin;" and she considered it hard to exact a perfect obedience from imperfect creatures. The vague and general ideas she had of the Divine Mercy, and the way in which her susceptible mind had dwelt upon it almost exclusively, tempted her to consider it unsuitable for God to condemn for one offence as for many, and to connect with all offence a punishment as lasting as existence. She was anxious to abandon these sentiments; but Scripture and an enlightened conscience forced them upon her. Her mind was fretted, disappointed, mortified. She was disposed to complain of the Divine Providence, to think of God as an austere master and a severe judge; to say to the sovereign Ruler of the universe, "What doest thou?-why hast thou made me thus ?"

from which she might bring peace to her troubled spirit.

To possess the theory of religion only is of high advantage. It is possessing the escape-ladder, which, though it may never have been used, is always ready for use when the hour of distress shall arrive. Thousands, from their ignorance of divine truth, have to inquire for the means of salvation when they hould be intent only on their application. They are aware of their danger, but know not where their help is to be found; and they remain in a state of most fearful distress, if they are not precipitated into overwhelming despair.

From these perplexities Martha did not suffer. In the ruin of her existing hopes, she knew where her only, her last dependance must rest, and her eye turned spontaneously to that Saviour who is the hope and consolation of Israel. With this object her mind had been familiarized for many years; but it is important to mark the fresh lights in which it was now contemplated. Before, it was the Saviour's gentleness of temper, the benevolence of his heart, the innocence of his life, the distress of his circumstances, or the agonies of his final hours, that called forth her sympathy, while the more exalted parts of his character rested behind a veil which she had little desire to remove. Now, however, it was on these her thoughts most earnestly dwelt. The Saviour as Mediator; his engagements for man's redemption; his authority to forgive sins; his power to propitiate Divine justice, and bring near to us the infinite Mercy; his conquest over our spiritual foes, and his bestowment of a renewing, sanctifying spirit-these were the particulars in his character and work which were felt to be so needful to her condition. She searched the Scriptures afresh, and found that they testified of Him in a sense and with a power to which she had been hitherto a stranger. She saw that Christ was indeed the wisdom of God-the power of God-the Son of God-God himself, manifested in the flesh. It was apparent to her that the Saviour, possessing the nature of God and man, was qualified to stand in the breach and effect our reconciliation. A scheme of salvation lay before her above her hopes

This check to the current of penitential sorrow only increased its strength to overcome all resistance. Every day spiritual truth stood out to her view with distincter light and with greater prominency. The very dispositions which perplexed her were employed to fix those convictions on her mind which she was so desirous to reject. In proportion as the irritation of her thoughts yielded to reflection, she was astonished and confounded to find the temper of her mind in opposition to the government of God -a Being she had thought she so truly loved. She found she had been loving and trusting a creature of her own imagination, and not the God of the Scriptures; that while she thought God altogether such a one as herself, she admired and approved; but when he became her reprover, and set her sins in order before her eyes, she was disposed to resist, to fight, to rebel. The truth burst upon her like a revelation. "The carnal mind is enmity against God; it is not subject to the law of God; neither, indeed, can it be !" The majesty, the forbearance, the purity, the mercy of God-the pride, the unbelief, the rebellion of her spirit, were all apparent to her. She cordially justified God, and condemned herself; she sank before the eternal throne, shed- This doubt, while it proved her sincere and hoding the overflowing tears of generous contrition nest dealing with herself, was salutary in its conand godly sorrow. Hers was now the spirit and the sequences. It excited her caution, gave fervency language of the enlightened and humbled patriarch: to her prayers, and rendered her diligent and perse"I had heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear, but vering in her inquiries. It had possession of her now mine eye seeth Thee; wherefore I abhor my-mind; but she could not grant it a quiet and conself, and repent in dust and ashes: behold I am vile!"

Now came the great, the momentous questionWhat shall I do to be saved? The question and the reply had often been brought to her thoughts in the course of a religious education; but they had not been rightly understood and valued. They had been in her memory like a prescription in the hands of a healthy man, unnoticed or disesteemed. To estimate the doctrine of salvation, it must be desired-desired above all things, from a conviction of its indispensable necessity. She now found herself to be in a state of imminent peril; she was alive to a sense of her helplessness in attempting her own deliverance; she felt herself in the condition of the disciple sinking amid the opening waves, and ready to perish; and her eye looked eagerly for an object to which she might attach her dying hopes, and

above her thoughts; she could not doubt its suitableness-it was exactly what she wanted; she could not question its sufficiency-it was the production of inexhaustible love. "No," she remarked at this period, with peculiar emphasis, "I cannot for a moment doubt the ability or willingness of Jesus to save to the very uttermost; my only doubt is whether I have come to him aright for salvation."

tinued residence. Her fears were raised by the presence of real and extreme dangers; and nothing could subdue them less than a real, reasonable, and scriptural hope that they were removed. The approbation of God, the safety of her spirit, the right and cordial acceptance of the Redeemer, were things of infinitely too great importance in her esteem to be thought of with indifference, or suspended in voluntary doubt. She was not now hesitating in her determinations between God and Mammon, Christ and Belial; she was whole-hearted; and it was not in the power of youth, with all its buoyancy and thoughtlessness, nor of the world, with all its fascinating and unbroached delights, to give her spirit ease and comfort, till she had found a satis factory reply to that affecting question, which is addressed to the conscience of every child of man"Dost thou believe on the Son of God?"

The means were sincerely employed, and they | beyond the circle of their thoughts, will, with a were attended by the promised success. She asked, teacher in Israel, demand, "How can these things and received; she sought, and found; she knocked be?" However mortifying to our pride and comat the door of truth and mercy, and to her it was placency, this question admits only one replyopened. Hope took possession of her mind; and These things, rightly to be understood, must be truly the very perturbations which troubled it proved it experienced. To see the light we must be in the also to be both sure in itself, and steadfastly fixed light. To comprehend a spiritual life we must live on the things which cannot be shaken. Her thoughts spiritually. "The natural man discerneth not the became tranquil, and they settled themselves intent- things of the spirit, neither can he know them, bely on Him who is the author and finisher of our cause they are spiritually discerned." He wants iaith. She was particularly encouraged by observ- the answering faculty; and without this, his coning the character of the Saviour's invitations, and ceptions of a "life he does not live" will be as vague, the persons to whom they were addressed. He as unreal, and as wild as the conclusions of the blind stood before her in all his mediatorial excellence man who compared the color of scarlet to the sound and efficiency, as the helper of the helpless, the of a trumpet. But let him fear to deny what he friend of the destitute, the surety of the debtor, the does not perceive. These things are as rational saviour of the lost. She approached unto Him, as they are important. To deny the necessity of a and put her trust under the shadow of his wings. divine change is to deny the uniform testimony of She deliberately renounced whatever was contrary Scripture, supported by the voice of conscience, and to the love of Him; and placed her reliance on his the universal state of mankind. To deny its possisacrifice and mediation for acceptance with the bility is to deny a Providence, to sit in judgment Father. She acknowledged Him as her first, her on our Maker, to exclude him from the work of his last, her only, her sufficient hope of salvation; and own hands, and to say that the spirit he has formed, she committed herself, body, soul, and spirit, into as his living temple, he has power neither to ochis hands, to be redeemed from all evil, to be con-cupy nor to influence. trolled by his divine authority, and to be modelled after his most holy will. In one word-she believed; and believing, she rejoiced with joy unspeakable; it was the joy of penitence-the joy of hopethe joy of love-the joy of gratitude-the joy of heaven.

CHAPTER IV.

AFFLICTION. 1809.

LIFE is a progressive principle; and in its progress to vigor and maturity, is often assisted by apparently adverse principles. The tree is frequently distressed that it may bear fruit; man is inoculated with disease that he may preserve his health; and the Christian is called to endure affliction, that his divine nature may be purified from earthly adhesions, and shine out the brighter and the stronger.

These exercises of the mind, though they are brought within a few short paragraphs, were extended through many days, and even several weeks. With them, she was disposed to hope, commenced that change without which she could not expect to enter the kingdom of heaven. She might have been moved by the influence of the good Spirit at It was the will of Providence that the good work earlier periods; but she dared not conclude on the begun on the mind of Martha should be established possession of an inward principle of spiritual life, by suffering. It happened in the commencement except as she was brought to discover her spiritual of this year that Mrs. Wilks, the consort of the state, and raised to the love and pursuit of spiritual Rev. Matthew Wilks, suddenly expired. Martha objects. Her thoughts were not occupied with curious was among the many who admired and loved this and vain inquiries on the precise moment in which most excellent woman when living, and who mournthis life originated; she was content to trace its ex- ed her dissolution when dead. It was her earnest istence in its effects. She felt there was no comparison request that her parents would allow her to witness in the importance of the two questions-Do I live? the interment of the earthly remains in Bunhill and, When did I begin to live? Happily, God has fur- Fields-that ancient and sacred place of sepulture nished us with ample means of satisfaction on the one which, above all others, perhaps, will be prepared inquiry; while the other, except as we judge by the to welcome the awakening trumpet of the archevidences of life, is, with as much wisdom and deli- angel. The day was bleak and damp; the melting cacy, veiled from our knowledge. Life of no class, snows were upon the ground; her parents objected; vegetable, animal, or spiritual, is to be ascertained but she entreated, and prevailed. What with the by detecting the vital principle; and yet it is, of all unfitness of the weather, the agitation of her spithings, most apparent by its own outward expres- rits, and her want of caution to avoid disease she sions. A truth this which, had it been properly re- had never felt, she received a violent cold. This garded, would have preserved the minds of many was soon removed; but a troublesome cough, which from being diverted or perplexed by needless and attended it, remained upon her, and bade defiance impracticable inquiries; and would have given to the care and medicine employed to eradicate it. them, at once, an active and prospective direction. There were, however, no consumptive tendencies Such a change, bringing the mind into accord-in her constitution; and the cough, though it gave ance with the humbling truths of the Scriptures, uneasiness, excited no alarm, till, in the month of and elevating it into sympathy with an invisible and eternal world, what ever may be the adaptation of means, must, without hesitation, be ascribed to the finger of God. I am aware that this allusion to a Divine agency will provoke the censure of the world. But it is a received maxim, even with the world, that the Deity may be introduced on an occasion worthy of himself; and can we conceive any thing more worthy of the Divine Mercy and Majesty than to illuminate, and sanctify, and restore to himself an immortal spirit, which has wandered from his feet, and is alienated from the life and blessedness it is alone qualified to enjoy ?

Yet the world will exclaim, "This is a hard saying!" and the most candid, perplexed by a subject

July, when it appeared to be passing away, it rup: tured a blood-vessel. This was a distressing and fearful event to all the family; further professional advice was taken, and Martha was ordered to leav town immediately.

In selecting a place where she might enjoy a purer air and greater quiet, the choice fell upon Cheshunt, a pleasant village at the foot of the Hertfordshire hills. Here the bosom of a family was open to receive her, of which her parents had a slight acquaintance; and to its protection they therefore resigned their afflicted child with the less reluctance.

The hand which had brought Martha under its corrections had also provided for her, in this family,

a friend, who contributed considerably to soothe The trials which, to the spectator, may appear her bodily sufferings, and to promote her spiritual to be intolerable, are sometimes welcomed by the improvement. This young person was of her own individual who is to suffer them. Matha had erred sex, and but little her superior in years. They with many young Christians in supposing, that were both ardent in their sensibility, unsuspicious while she lacked opposition she wanted one eviin their confidence, and sincerely devoted to reli- dence of Christian character; not considering that, gious pursuits. Neither had as yet found a friend in her case, opposition had been hitherto an imposto whom she could fully communicate on the sub-sibility, as her connections had been limited to the ject which now filled their attention. They spent friends of real piety. This disposition of mind, their days and their nights together. They walked however, prepared her to meet these rude assaults at the same hour; they worked at the same table; with comparative calmness. She felt herself to be they read the same book; they joined in the same innocent; and therefore entered into the blessedprayer. They were pleased and surprised to find, ness of those who are persecuted for righteousness' that, as face answereth to face in a glass, so did the sake. She bowed her head quietly to the storm; exercises of their minds correspond. They had she embraced the more favorable moments of saying thought that their state was altogether peculiar; something that might fasten on the conscience of but now they found they had been agitated by simi- the offender; and when, as often happened, her lar griefs, humbled under conviction of similar of tender spirits were jaded by blustering and noise, fences, and brought, through similar perplexities she withdrew to her chamber, seeking relief by of mind, to rely on the almighty and compassion-weeping at the feet of her Saviour, and presenting ate Redeemer. They communed with themselves and with each other; they edified one another on their most holy faith; and their hearts were knit together in love-in Christian love, the most powerful and refined of all sympathies.

Martha, it will be felt, was in circumstances to be particularly affected by this intercourse. She was among strangers; her mind was softened by disease; she was in want of those attentions which imperceptibly, and therefore surely, make their way to the heart. Her young friend readily seized the opportunity of offering these attentions. She became a staff to her trembling steps when she sought the refreshing influence of the air; she administered punctually the salutary portions of prescribed medicine; she surprised her sluggish appetite with tempting articles of nourishment; and studied, in manifold instances, her present ease and ultimate restoration. Is it strange, if a spirit like Martha's, inclined to kindle into gratitude and love on the slightest show of kindliness, should feel deeply, perhaps excessively, in the exercise of so much real and unostentatious sympathy, imparted, as it was, without any claims of previous friendship?

There is a thorn in every nest. Amid this retirement, it did not appear possible for her to be visited with any external vexation; but even here, distress found its way to her in a form which it had never before assumed. The family which thus afforded her so sincere a friend, possessed a member of very opposite principles and character. This relative was a young man, chiefly remarkable for his ignorance and wilfulness. Unsocial in his manners; neglectful of his calling; disobedient to his parents; and of so vexatious a temper, as, if ever capable of happiness, to find it only in the unhappiness of others. Revelation, least of all things, could be acceptable to such a person; and he chose, therefore, to become an infidel. It was truly a matter of choice with him, and not of opinion; he professed not to argue on the subject; it was enough for him that he could show his daring by slandering and profaning what others held to be most sacred. This daring unbeliever, however, was dastardly enough to attempt, in every way, the annoyance of two young females, one of them his relative, and the other an invalid, a stranger, and beneath the protection of his family! He gave them the greatest provocation, and then reproached them with the want of meekness; he made them sad by his presence, and then insulted them for their demure hypocrisy; he shocked their ears with his blasphemies, and found satanic delight in the pains he had created; and so much was he the enemy of all godliness, that even when they fled to their closets for peace, he would often enter on some contrivance to disturb their devotions.

afresh that prayer which was offered by him who prayed as never man prayed: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

After the lapse of a couple of months, Martha returned to the embraces of her parents, improved in health, enriched in friendship, and benefited even by the tongue of persecution. Her life was made precarious by disease, and her thoughts were brought nearer to eternity. She had been enabled to exercise a divine temper under provocation, and it gave her fuller assurance of possessing a divine nature. She was confirmed in gratitude and confidence; and she walked in the light of the Divine countenance !

The sky that is cleared too quickly is seldom tranquil. Martha had passed with comparative celerity into a state of lively enjoyment; but in the remaining months of this year her mind was frequently overcast by the clouds of anxiety and doubt. I learn this chiefly from her correspondence with her young friend, from whom she was now separated; and which is very kindly put into my hands to use at discretion. As the Christian is known equally by what he fears as by what he hopes, it may be expedient to make a few extracts from her letters at this period. It will be remembered, that they are the expressions of a child of sixteen, and of a mind too intent on things to study words.

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Sept.-A week is past since we were called to a painful separation; and we are a week nearer to eternity. I feel my mind more deeply impressed than ever by the importance of eternal things. O, if we lived more for eternity, how different would our conversation and all our conduct be! To think that we are dying creatures, and come into this world only as probationers for an eternal one! solemn thought! To recollect that I have been sixteen years in the world, and that so very, very little of that time has been devoted to the purpose for which I came into being! But I must stop and adore the Goodness which has spared me to this moment. O that we may be enabled to live more as dying creatures!"

"I hope the Lord will never suffer us to deceive ourselves. Let us pray much that he will search us and try us. Though our hearts are so deceitful, yet we may come to a knowledge of our characters; and how important is it to know this! It will make our afflictions pleasant; it will enliven our love and all our graces; it will teach us to look on all earthly things as straw and stubble, which are to be burned."

"I have just had another fit of coughing. If I should be removed from you, do not repine. Remember, the Lord brought us together, and we shall not be parted till he sees fit. O, my dear, let me

entreat you to be sober and vigilant, because of
your adversaries. Watch, for in such an hour as
ye think not, the Son of Man cometh. My dear,
heaven is worth striving for! To think of being
for ever with the Lord! Let us determine, in the
strength of Jesus, to knock, and to knock hard too,
the door of Mercy, till we gain admission.
"Faint, yet I hope pursuing. I am much afraid
I have been deceiving myself, I have such a very
deceitful heart; and, indeed, I hardly know what
reasons I have for thinking I am a child of God.
I dare not deny that a change has taken place in
me, but I fear it is not a change wrought by the
Spirit of God; I am so lukewarm, so cold and in-
different. You know every Christian has faith and
humility, and I am afraid I have neither. I am
afraid to hope, and yet afraid not to hope. This is
a paradox, but you can understand it. O, my dear,
pray for me, that I may be altogether, and not al-
most, a Christian!"

do not permit him to look on any without confusion and pain. It is not only needful that the faculty of vision should be perfect; there must be time to apply it separately to the different objects which present themselves, before he can assure himself that he distinctly sees them in the lights and distances in which they are really placed.

These alternations of hope and fear will also be promoted by the intensity of the interest, where the mind is sincere in its inquiries. It is fixed earnestly on things of extreme, of infinite importance. To be interested in the Divine favor which it has forfeited, and to escape the wrath to come which it has deserved, are blessings on which it exhausts all its reflections, and which yet it cannot fully appreciate. It is anxious above all things to reach a favorable conclusion, but shudders at the thought of reaching it upon false premises. Its very intentness on a decision-so awful, so desirable-holds it frequently in trembling suspense. The man whose mind is balancing between supposed or real trifles, may preserve his indifference; but if he is pursuing an inquiry on the issue of which his property, his character, his life are to depend, what agitations of doubt and desire will necessarily possess him!— Who, then, shall doubt the reasonableness, or estimate the force of those anxieties, which are associated with all that eternity can reveal, all that an

"I have had a great many doubts and fears lately. I find so much pride and unbelief in my heart, that I think, at times, there cannot be any grace there. I am often afraid I am deceiving myself, and fear I am like the barren fig-tree. You know what the end of that is, though it appear ever so green and beautiful. May we bring forth much fruit-the fruits of the Spirit! This is a hard conflict; but let us rejoice that it is a conflict-immortal spirit can suffer or enjoy? that our enemies have it not all their own way

'Still toss'd tempestuous on the sea of life,
My little bark is driven to and fro;
With winds and waves I hold unequal strife,
Nor can decide the doubtful course I go;
O may we reach that blissful shore,
Where storms and winds distress no more!'

"Let us never forget that we are travellers to an eternal world. To what place in that world are we bound? If to Canaan, we must remember there is a waste howling wilderness to pass through, innumerable enemies to fight, and a Jordan to cross but let us not be discouraged; our enemies are mighty-our Saviour is almighty. He has said, Fear not, worm Jacob; my strength is made perfect in thy weakness.' O, my dear, humbly relying on this strength, let us go forth and fight courageously the battles of the Lord of hosts, not fearing that we shall come off more than conquerors through Him who hath loved us, and died for us, and will not withhold from us any good thing."

"I have felt my mind more calm since I saw you; but, alas! I am ready to fear it is a false calm. You will ask me my reasons. I think, if it were a true peace, I should be more humbled under a sense of sin, and should walk far more close with God. O, that we may lie humbled at the footstool of the Saviour, that we bear no more resemblance to him! And let us not rest here: but, with the greatest importunity, beseech him to give us his Holy Spirit, that he may conform our hearts entirely to his image."

These variations of mind, thus artlessly described, are in some measure necessarily connected with the young Christian's experience. The very strangeness of his situation will produce them. God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined into his mind with a new and powerful illumination; and a thousand objects relative to himself and others, to this life and that which is to come, press upon his attention at once, awing him by their sublimity, and dazzling him by their brightness. He is in the circumstances of the blind man who is suddenly restored to sight. The innumerable objects which are at once presented to his view,

Although these anxieties will naturally spring from the importance of the truths which are contemplated, and the freshness of the light which surrounds them, it must be admitted that they may be greatly prolonged or exaggerated by other circumstances. Martha was not so painfully affected by them as many; but she might probably have been less so, had her years allowed her to mark the influence of the body on the mind, and to discriminate between physical sensations and Christian principles.

Still less she might have suffered in this conflict of hope and fear, had she sought matured and sage counsel. But the young love to confide in the young; and she was content to have found a friend to whom she could freely unbosom herself. Her friend, similarly situated with herself, was well fitted to become a sympathetic companion; but she was not sufficiently advanced before her to be an experienced guide. In addition to the comforts of this friendship, had she sought the direction of her parents on the perplexities of her mind as they arose, she might have been sooner relieved. For the present, however, humility and respect threw undue restraints upon her; and she could only join generally in religious conversation, without alluding to any influence it exerted on her own spirit.

While these observations are thrown out as waymarks to others, it is pleasing to notice that these renewed perturbations of heart were overruled by a gracious Hand, to produce the best effects. The various views she took of her situation gave her deeper conviction of the impotence of her nature, and her liability to temptation and sin. Hope gathered resistance, like the elasticity of a spring, from the pressure of fear; her faith took the firmer grasp, because an enemy sought to shake it from its hold; and her love was ultimately borne more quickly to heaven by those winds which threatened to beat it down to earth. She yet more earnestly employed every instituted means of grace; she eagerly propounded to her parents questions of conscience, without noticing their relation to herself; and she diligently read, as she had opportunity, those books which were suited to her temper, and illustrative of her experience.

Among the books which were thus perused was the "Rise and Progress of Religion," by the truly

Christian Doddridge. From this work she received (who has not ?) considerable assistance and benefit. It shed more light upon her way, and consequently gave more steadiness to her steps, and serenity to her heart. Here she met with a form of covenant, and with urgent exhortations to adopt it as her own. She was docile, and willing to be directed; but she was humble, and shrunk from so solemn and explicit a mode of engagement. Yet she felt that she had already virtually done what was here recommended, and she was disposed to construe her hesitancy in doing it more formally into a want of seriousness and sincerity. This jealousy of herself decided her in adopting it. It was readily embraced, as a means of satisfying herself that she had long been whole-hearted in the surrender she hoped she had already made to the Saviour of her body, soul, and spirit.

She was, however, too conscientious to employ any form of words, how excellent soever, with precipitancy. She passed over it sentence by sentence, and word by word; making every variation and omission which she found necessary to her full and cheerful acquiescence. Because it is thus varied, and because it is a hallowed and interesting document in her life, I shall not scruple to introduce it in closing this chapter, connected with her reflections upon it in a letter to her friend, who alone knew of the transaction.

I am aware that this practice has been condemned, on the one hand as enthusiastic, and on the other as pharisaical; and a writer of eminence has recently endeavored to fix upon it, somewhat inconsistently, the entire weight of this two-fold objection. If these censures are directed against the abuses of the thing only they will receive the sanction of every sober mind. There have undoubtedly, been extravagancies of expression, and modes of signature, and a high self-confiding temper manifested, which should be most seriously deprecated. But if these censures are meant, as is feared, to go beyond this, let it be remembered, that the practice which is so fully countenanced by Scripture, and has been so generally pursued by the wisest and most devoted of Christians, cannot be essentially wrong. And what is of infinitely greater moment, let it be distinctly felt that the spirit of the practice is the spirit of all religion. Self-dedication is of the very nature and essence of religion. If this is sincerely admitted, the mode of expressing it is comparatively of small importance, and the Christian may consult his individual benefit in coming to a decísion. It is optional whether we "subscribe to the Lord with our hand;" but it is imperative that we subscribe to Him with the heart. Circumcision," the mere sign of dedication, "is nothing;" and "uncircumcision," the want of that sign, "is nothing;" but a new creature," the act of surrendering ourselves totally, and for ever, to God, against whom we have rebelled, this is every thing!

FORM OF SELF-DEDICATION.

"Eternal and unchangeable Jehovah! Thou great Creator of heaven and earth, and adorable Lord of angels and men! I desire, with the deepest humiliation and abasement of soul, to fall down at this time in thine awful presence; and I earnestly pray that thou wilt penetrate my very heart with a suitable sense of thine unutterable and inconceivable glories!

"Trembling may justly take hold upon me, when I, a sinful worm, presume to lift up my head to Thee, and to appear in thy majestic presence on such an occasion as this. Who am I, O Lord God, or what is my house! What is my nature or descent, my character and desert, that I should desire to be one party in a covenant, when thou, the King

of kings and Lord of lords, art the other! I would blush and be confounded even to mention it before thee; but, O Lord, great as is thy majesty, so also is thy mercy. If thou wilt hold converse with any of thy creatures, thy superlatively exalted nature must stoop, must stoop infinitely low! And I know, that in and through Jesus, the Son of thy love, thou condescendest to visit sinful mortals, and to allow their approach unto Thee, that they may give themselves to Thee for ever.

"To Thee, therefore, do I now come, invited by the name of thy Son, and, I hope, wholly trusting in his perfect righteousness and grace. Laying myself at thy feet with shame and confusion of face, and smiting upon my breast, I say with the humble publican, God be merciful to me, a sinner! I acknowledge, O Lord, that I have been a great transgressor. My sins have reached to the heavens, and my iniquities are lifted up to the clouds. And if thou shouldst be strict to mark my offences, I must be silent under a load of guilt, and immediately sink into destruction. But thou hast graciously called me to return unto Thee, though I have been a backsliding and rebellious child. Behold, therefore, I am come unto Thee. I come convinced, not only of my sin, but of my folly. Receive, therefore, I beseech Thee, thy revolted creature, who is now convinced of thy right to her, and desires nothing so much as that she may be entirely thine. Permit me, O Lord, to bring back to Thee those powers and faculties which I have ungratefully and sacrilegiously alienated from thy service.

"Blessed God! it is with the utmost solemnity that I make this surrender of myself to Thee. Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth: I avouch the Lord this day to be my God; and I avouch and declare myself to be one of his covenant children and people. Hear, O thou God of heaven, and record it in the book of thy remembrance, that henceforth I am thine, entirely thine! From this day do I solemnly renounce all the former lords which have had dominion over me, every sin, and every lust; and bid, in thy name, defiance to the powers of hell, which have, most unjustly, usurped the empire of my soul. All that I am, and all that I have, the faculties of my mind, and members of my body, my worldly possessions, my time, and my influence over others, I consecrate to Thee. In thy service I desire to spend all the remainder of my time upon earth; and I beg that thou wouldst instruct and influence me so, that whether my abode here be longer or shorter, every year and month, every day and hour, may be used in such a manner as shall most effectually promote thine honor, and subserve the design of thy wise and gracious Providence. 0 blessed God! I would steadily persevere in this course, to the very end of life; earnestly praying that every future day of it may supply the deficiencies and correct the errors of the former; and that I may, by Divine grace, be enabled, not only to hold on in this happy way, but to become more active in it!

"Use me, O Lord, I beseech thee, as an instrument of thy service. Number me among thy peculiar people. Let me be washed in the blood of thy dear Son. Transform me more and more into his image. Impart to me, through him, all the needful influences of thy purifying, cheering, and comforting Spirit: and let my life be spent under those influences, and in the light of thy gracious countenance, as my Father and my God.

"And when the solemn hour of death shall come, may I remember this covenant of thine, well ordered in all things and sure, as all my salvation and all my desire, though every other hope and enjoyment is perishing. And do thou, O Lord, remember it too! Look down with pity, O my heavenly Father,

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