quite persuaded that some of the most direct inAuences of the Holy Spirit, or those which come from the throne, as JEREMY TAYLOR says ejaculatory prayer goes to it, "in a straight line," are least attended to by us. For, have you not often felt upon your spirit the impulse, as it were, of an invisible hand, gently pushing you off your chair, that you might go into your closet; or rise to take up your Bible, as more wanted than the book you were reading? Have you not occasionally felt, as if you were haunted by the presence of a dying neighbor, or by the urgency of his watching angels, to go out and speak a word in season, or, at least, to show that you had Christian sympathy? Have not many things occurred to you as hints. wanted at home; and as plans, likely to do good at home, which, if you had communicated or acted upon whilst they were fresh in your mind, might have been very useful to others, and saved you from the self-upbraiding which follows the neglect of relative duty?

once, as illustrations of the Oracle on which this essay is founded, that we may see and feel how transportingly true it is.

I know not which of them is your favorite.-Mine is, that sweet assurance to young and weak disciples, "He shall feed his flock as a Shepherd; He shall gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom." You cannot be weaker than a lamb is, when it requires such care from the shepherd. And remember; it is the weakness, and not the innocence of the lamb, which engages thus the shepherd's sympathies.

The allusion is from the East. Often, on going out amongst the folds in the morning, after having kept watch all night, against the wolves, the shepherd finds a young lamb, chilled with the dew or the frost of the night, and unable to follow the flock to green pastures or still waters. He raises it gently from the ground, and wraps it to his bosom under his own warm cloak, and carries it forward, thus, until it revive. Now "the Great Shepherd," is just such a "good shepherd!" All the sheep, and even some under-shepherds, may not have tenderness nor patience, to watch over such a lamb as you, nor to wait until you are able to follow them on hill and through valley: but the Shepherd of souls, is the Bishop of souls; and he will neither leave nor forsake you. He can be "touched with a feeling of your infirmities," and thus can bear with them, until you can bear to move and rest with all his flock. He will even gather you in his arms, until you can walk in his footsteps; and carry you in his bosom, until you can follow him whithersoever he goeth. Thus, He does not despise the day of small things: but according to their smallness, makes his care and tenderness great. And, will you despair of weakness, which He pities? Will you give up hope, whilst He gives this heed, and hand, and heart, to the weak in faith, and to the fainting in hope

In thus recalling such angel-visits of Divine influence, by which new duties are suggested, or improvements in old duties enforced, nothing is farther from my design than to make any duty dependent upon impulse. The Spirit will not supersede the law of duty, by the grace of help, He does, however, help us in obeying that law, by throwing new and impressive lights upon its bearings, and upon the best way of following them out. Whilst, therefore, I would solemnly warn you against following any impulse, however plausible, which is not founded upon express rule, I would most affectionately urge you not to quench or resist the Holy Ghost, when he makes the letter or the spirit of any scriptural duty "arise in your hearts like a day-star," and shine as a light in a dark place. Unto such illuminations, you "do well to take heed." It will never be a day of great things in your devotional experience, if you let such direct rays from heaven pass unnoticed. Do not wonder that the COMFORTER will not always come into your closet, nor meet you regularly at the sacrament, when you wish him to do so if you often refuse to go alone with him, or out for him, when he is whispering to you what he would have you to do. This "still small voice" is one of the small things which you must not despise. "If you do," (Sheshbazzar would have said,) "God may reverse the Horeb vision of Elijah; and make the stormy wind, the earth-bylon, is now sounding out the New Song, with quake and the fire, follow the still small voice."

These, however, are but passing hints. I want, in order to encourage you to prize and cherish the beginnings of the good work of grace in your own soul, to mark most attentively, how the Saviour estimated and treated even "the blade" of true piety, before "the full corn," or "the ear" had shot forth. He did not despise the day of small things! He often treated as "great things," prayers and faith which others would have despised, and which the offerers themselves were afraid or ashamed of, as too weak and imperfect to be accepted.

Both the proofs and promises of this delightful fact are, of course, rising in your memory like stars, in light and loveliness. You could repeat them, without my quoting them at all. So far well. But let us just look over some of them for

Take another view of your case. "A bruised reed shall he not break." No; the music it makes at first, may be neither harmony nor melody; may be rather sad than sweet; but He will not break it, nor cast it away, because of its broken notes. He will mend and moisten it, until its tones are clear and melodious. "Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings," He perfects praise. Many a bruised reed, which was once almost as dumb or dull as the harps upon the willows of Ba

not a little of both the spirit and compass of the golden harps before the throne of God. And, however bruised, you are not a broken reed. A broken reed is cast away from all the means of mending. But you are not only in the land of the living, and thus in the place of hope; but you are also under the care of a minister, or under the guidance of a friend, or have access to some book, whose chief object is to tune and strengthen bruised reeds, until they can

"Join their cheerful songs, With angels round the throne."

Remember; Jesus says, (and you can surely take his word!) "Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted." The night of penitential weeping, will be followed by the morning

of believing joy. You can review in this way, at your leisure, the other proofs of the Saviour's considerate and compassionate regard to the day of small things. In the meantime, whilst these two are before you, and you are admiring them, I must remind you, that none of them are intended to reconcile you to the continuance of a day of small things, in either your faith or holiness. It is, that small things may become great things, that they are thus watched by Heaven, and thus commended to the watchfulness and tenderness of the church on earth. "The blade" of piety has the promise of "the early rain," just that the ear and the full corn in the ear may come on to meet "the latter rain."

But whilst the first appearances of heartfelt piety are thus not overlooked by the Saviour, neither are they overrated by him. The reed, though bruised, is called a reed; but it is not complimented as sweet enough in its sound. So also, the smoking flax is not threatened with quenching; but neither is its smoke commended. In connection with both emblems it is added, "He shall bring forth judgment unto truth." In prophetic language, this amounts to the same thing as the apostolic promise, "He who began the good work, will carry it on." Thus, we are as much bound to grow in grace, as we are encouraged to trust in grace, by both the condescension of the Father, and the tenderness of the Son, towards our day of small things.

was welcomed by him, as Elijah welcomed the cherubic chariot of his translation. He was no longer able to go up to Jerusalem, "three times a year;" and, therefore, he preferred to be there on the DAY OF DAYS, that he might learn, as he said, from the High Priest, to enter within the veil of eternity, bearing only the blood and incense of propitiation, as all his introduction and plea. Thus his spirit passed into the Holy of Holies even before the High Priest; and often lingered at the mercy-seat, or bathed in the Sheckinah of glory, long after He had come out to bless the people. That benediction, Sheshbazzar welcomed as his own warrant to kneel in spirit, where the priest had ministered; and thus to realize his own entrance into heaven.

This was his meaning when he called his pilgrimage, his translation; and his staff and scrip, his chariot and horses of fire; for Beersheba, compared with Jerusalem, was to him, on that solemn feast day, as the earth compared with heaven. And yet Beersheba was dear to the good old man: for Abraham's well was still there; and, although the trees of Abraham's grove had passed away, like the Angels who once rested under their shadow, "the place thereof" was not unknown. Oaks of Mamre, and palm trees of Lahairoi, had replaced them. Sheshbazzar often drank at that well, and mused in that spot, in the very spirit of its Patriarchal owner, and of its Angelic visiters. Still it was not Zion! It was the sepulchre of his fathers and of his children, but it was not the sanctuary of his God. HIS FIG TREE was there; but his TREE OF LIFE was upon Mount Zion.

In a word, it must not be always a day of small things with us; for we may soon have great trials, or great temptations; and small faith or patience will not sustain them well. "What will you do in the day of visitation?" is, therefore, a quesThe prospect of his translation did not, howtion which ought not to be lost sight of entirely, ever, so absorb his spirit, as to divert his sympaeven at this stage of your experience. Do not, thies from those who had to stay at home. Havindeed, forbode evil; but do not forget that it willing, like Elijah, thrown his mantle over Esrom come, sooner or later, in some form. It may come very soon, and severely too, if you sit down contented with this day of small things. Let the following allegory of RACHEL'S LEPROSY, teach you wisdom. And be not discouraged, because you cannot see how there can come a day of great things in your experience. You may acquire great peace, great comfort, and great influence. In every thing good, you may be much greater than you are; and although you will never call nor think your holiness great, even when others feel it to be great both in its beauty and strength, resolve that it shall not be less in either than care can make it.

ALLEGORY, No. 1.

RACHEL'S LEPROSY.

THE IOM HACCHIPURIM, or the great day of atonement, drew nigh again; and Sheshbazzar, although "old and gray-headed," prepared to appear before God in Zion. For the Beershebean eagle (as Rachel called him) seemed to "renew his youth," annually, from the very moment the expiation trumpets summoned the tribes to Jerusalem. Their sound fell on his ear, like a voice from the excellent glory; and their signal for pilgrimage

and Rachel, he continued to commune with them, until the moment of his departure; and to pray that a double portion of his spirit might rest upon them. And never did they stand in more need of counsel or prayer. They had been betrothed in the month Nisan; but when the Tisri trumpets were blown, Esrom showed no inclination to go up to Jerusalem. He was not "glad" when Sheshbazzar said unto him, "Let us go up to the house of the Lord." He had tried to persuade himself, that it was not his duty this year! Rachel was drooping in both health and spirits: and surely it could not be duty to leave her alone! She herself tried to think that, for once, Esrom might be excused; for she felt, at times, as low as if the Angel of Death was not far off. Even Sheshbazzar was uneasy on her account. He feared something worse than death: for Rachel's mind was one, which might be thrown off its balance by an excess of either grief or joy. Its very strength was more perilous than weakness; because she put it all forth upon whatever interested her feelings deeply. She threw her whole soul, equally, into human and Divine things, by turns. On the day of her betrothment, she thought of nothing else; and on the day after, which was the Sabbath, she was so absorbed by Sheshbazzar's exposition of the Law and the Prophets, in the synagogue, that she forgot it entirely.

Even next morning, she met Esrom without

alluding to their plighted vows. She was still in ecstacy with a Sabbath which, she said, had been to her a fragment of the first Sabbath of Time, and a foretaste of the first Sabbath of Eternity. Esrom felt piqued, and asked, sarcastically, " Did Adam pray like the Elders, or will Angels sing like the choirs of Beersheba?" This association of ideas was ludicrous. It threw her off her guard: and, for the first time, Rachel criticised the tones and terms of public worship. Until that moment, she had thought of nothing, but their spirit and design; but, from that moment, she began to weigh them, not only in the balance of the sanctuary, but also in the scales of taste. They were found wanting" in both; and she wondered that she had overlooked their defects so long. It was an unhappy discovery! She resolved to improve the form of her own devotions: for, hitherto, she had adopted whatever petition came warm from the lips of the Elders; and had thought only of what she wanted. Now, she began to think more about her words than her wants; and tried oftener to adore like a seraph, than to pray like a penitent. Sublimity became her study. Humility was left to accident. She could trust her heart, (she said to herself,) that it would never relapse into hardness or coldness. It had been melted and warmed by the holy fire of heaven; and she took for granted, that the glow would never decay. Surely the principle of grace might be as safely trusted to its own vitality, upon the altar of the soul, as the sacred fire upon the altar of the temple! She, at least, was sure that, after what she had seen and felt herself to be as a sinner, nothing could inflate or deaden her spirit as a penitent.

She was often more mystical than the woman of Tekoah, and more poetical than Deborah, the wife of Lapidoth. When she called the stars, sheckinahs in miniature, the old men thought her profane; when she said, the sun was an emblem and a pledge, that the glory between the Cherubim would, one day, fill the whole earth, they deemed her insane, or too partial to the Gentiles; and when she doubted their interpretation, of both the hardening of Pharaoh's heart, and the hatred of Esau, by God, they almost charged her with blasphemy. Thus it was not wonderful, that they were but slow of heart to believe her to be a daughter of the Covenant. Her speech, they said truly," was hardly the language of Canaan;" for it was never much according to the shibboleth of the wise, nor the sibboleth of the weak; and now it was less so than ever. "Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh ;" and Rachel's heart abounded now with tastes, emotions, and aspirations, which sober truth could not satisfy, nor ordinary teachers please. When Sheshbazzar was not in the synagogue, she often stayed at home on the Sabbath. She could get "no good," she said, "from the common-place of the dry Elders, nor from the whining of the weeping Elders, nor from the thundering of the fiery Elders. Merab was too controversial; Jeduthun, too legal; Jubal, too declamatory; and Hamath, too hasty. Except, therefore, when Sheshbazzar spoke, Rachel hardly listened. She preferred her own "worldless thoughts," she said, "to their unthoughtful and low words."

She

Esrom ministered to this fastidious taste. herself had never thought of bringing the prayers of the Elders to its bar, until he obtruded them upon her notice. Her own spirit had long been too devotional, to weigh the words or notice the tones of those who led the synagogue of the people to the THRONE of Jehovah. Even when the Elders who had wounded her, lifted up their hands in prayer, her heart, whilst simple, forgot all their faults and defects, and felt only that God was listening!

mercy and grace: and it will ascend to heaven like Manoah's angel in the flame of the sacrifice, even if the altar be an unhewn rock."

She thus trusted her own heart; and it betrayed her! It soon took more interest in her nuptial preparations, than in her closet, or in her copy of the Law. She was no longer humble before God. She never forgot "the Grapes of Gomorrah;" but she no longer wept when she remembered them. Her old ambition to dazzle or puzzle others in company, returned on her. She was upon the watch for opportunities to shine in con- Sheshbazzar had often said to her, "Rememversation, whenever Sheshbazzar was not present. ber; God only is addressed in prayer. You are She almost claimed credit for her piety from the no longer a hearer, when His worship begins. Elders; for having lost much of the witness of You are then speaking unto the Lord; and what her own spirit, she sought relief in the good opi- you have to say to Him, is too solemn to depend nion of others. But she oftener startled the El-upon words or tones. Let your heart pray for ders, than conciliated them, by her professions. Some doubted her sincerity, and others her orthodoxy; and she felt equally mortified by both. There was bitterness as well as truth; sarcasm as well as sorrow, in her lips, when she said of them, "that Angels were better judges of repentance." Sheshbazzar had thrown out the same hint to the Elders, but in another spirit. He smiled complacently, whilst he said to them, "You will soon be as glad as GABRIEL was, when he put Rachel's tears into the urn of heaven; he had seen none purer, since Hannah wept before the Lord in Shiloh." The Elders had said to him, "Her tears may be in your book, but they are not in his bottle yet." It was a harsh speech; and yet, they meant no harm. Rachel had long been a mystery to them; for although she never spoke "as one of the foolish women," neither did she speak like the generality of the wise women.

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In the sun of such sentiments Rachel's devotional spirit had ripened; and, until Esrom blighted it, by criticising the prayers of the Elders, nothing that they were as men, or had said as judges had even tarnished the bloom of her devotional simplicity. Or as Sheshbazzar had often expressed it, place her only before the Throne, and her heart is a harp which will yield melody unto the Lord, at the touch of any "holy hands," whether laic or levitical.

Such it had been, whilst Sheshbazzar was the depositary of all its secrets. Such he himself often found it, when he led the devotions of the synagogue. But ever since her betrothment, it had often been untuned. Her plans-her pros pects-her arrangements, for the day when she

her communion with God!-at its family altar, sure to pray in the spirit? by its hearth in the evening, and under its fig-tree in the morning, sure to shake off from Esrom and herself, all the mildew of backsliding! Nothing of this, however, was attempted in the mean time. All improvement, and penitence too, was postponed until Sheshbazzar should "sanctify the household" of the betrothed, upon his return from Jerusalem. But, before he returned, Rachel was become "A LEPER, white as snow!"

should be brought to the house of Esrom, "in | righteous," whenever she entered upon its maraiment of needlework; the virgins, her compa- nagement. In its closet, she was sure to renew nions, following with gladness and rejoicing," had more than divided her heart, even in the closet; and, in the synagogue, they often diverted it from both the word and worship of Jehovah. Sheshbazzar did not suspect this. He saw, indeed, that Rachel's preparations were upon a scale worthy of her tribe and her parentage; and that her own taste would preside over every thing-from her own robes, to the veils of her maidens, and even down to the lamps and torches of the procession. But why not? Who had such exquisite taste?"Rachel is, indeed, troubled about many things," said the old man; "but her good sense is a pledge that nothing will be extravagant or vain. She is sure to adorn herself and others, only according to the manner of holy women of old. There may be "nets of checker-work and wreaths of chainwork" here and there in her arrangements, as around the pillars of the temple; but the crown of the whole, like the capitals of Jachin and Boaz, and the borders of the molten Sea, will be lily work;' the still grandeur of gracefulness, the calm majesty of meekness; as from the chisel of Hiram of Tyre."

Sheshbazzar did not know that Rachel had plunged into the bustle of preparation, in order to forget her penitential vows, and to hide from herself the backslidings of her own heart. And, had her heart still been what he supposed, he would have been more than justified in taking for granted, that she would plan and execute all things as in the sight of God. For, until Esrom's critical levity betrayed her devotional spirit, she could turn any series of domestic duties into a Bethel Ladder between earth and heaven. But, when she became a critic in the house of prayer, she soon lost her simplicity in the closet. At first, she was shocked on discovering, that unhallowed associations of the ludicrous or frivolous, were blending themselves with phrases which once breathed her holiest feelings. Then, she could not use, in the closet, expressions she had blamed, or smiled at, in the synagogue. Then, she sat musing in silence about prayer, instead of kneeling before the Lord with supplication. At length, she became equally ashamed and afraid to be alone with God!

Thus Rachel's heart condemned her, and to escape from its censures, she filled her hands, to overflowing, with the duties of her betrothment; leaving neither time nor thought for any thing beyond the ceremonials of religion. She fasted without humility, and worshipped without love, except when Sheshbazzar presided. And even then, he was often to her, only "as one that playeth well upon an instrument."

All this process and result of spiritual defection she concealed from him. She tried to persuade herself that, like the cloud which had occasionally come over her spirit, before she knew the Lord; and which, when it passed off, left her more cheerful than it had found her; so this hiding of the Divine presence would only be temporary, and enhance the brightness of the Candle of the Lord, when it should shine upon her own tabernacle: for she had vowed, that the house of Esrom and Rachel should be in all things "the tabernacle of the

No symptoms of this awful malady had shown itself, when Sheshbazzar left Beersheba. He had marked the throb of her veins, and felt her hand burn, and seen the hectic flush and the pallid hue succeed each other on her cheek, without increasing or diminishing the strange glaze of her eyes : but he dreamt not of leprosy. There was no "bright spot in the skin," and no "whiteness in the hair;" and thus, although he parted from her with a heavy heart, it was mental, not bodily, disease he foreboded; and that fear, he was too wise to utter or betray. He blessed Rachel, in the name of the Lord, and placed himself as usual at the head of his brethren, to conduct them to Zion.

Sheshbazzar exemplified at Jerusalem, the spirit of his favorite maxim: he shook the mulberrytrees of every typical ordinance, and prophetic promise. He was the first, daily, at the morning sacrifice, and the last to retire from the evening sacrifice: the first at the altar of burnt-offering, and the last at the altar of incense. When the Levites walked in procession around the altars, waving the palms of Judah, and sounding the silver trumpets of the GREAT HOSANNA, no vocal hosanna, amongst the thousands of Israel, swelled above Sheshbazzar's. Like the eagle mounting upon the summits of Gerrizzim, the old man seemed to renew his youth, whilst thus waiting upon the God of his fathers in Zion. When his fellowpilgrims could distinguish him in the great congregation, or at the waters of Siloa, they saw, from his looks, that he was shaking the mulberry-trees, and like the fleece of Gideon, was saturated with the dew of heaven.

When the Iom Hacchipurim ended, they prepared to return to Beersheba; and Sheshbazzar was, as usual, their guiding pillar in the wilderness. "We have been, my children, like the spies," he said, "searching the land of promise; what have we to show at home as the fruit of it? Grapes, or wild gourds? Not the latter, I am quite sure! But, have we cut such a cluster of the grapes of Eschol, as to require two men to carry it between them on a staff? Or have we merely an untimely fig, and an unripe pomegranate, hanging at our girdle? We ought not to carry home a bad report of the goodly land. There were large and ripe clusters on Mount Zion: what can we show as the fruit of it? A spirit, meek as the lily of the valley, fragrant as the rose of Sharon, and pure as the waters of Siloa? It ought to be so. Those who tarried at home will expect to divide the spoil with us. Esrom and Rachel, especially, will look to me for the first ripe fruits. Gleanings will not satisfy them." Thus he talked by the way.

"But who is this-that cometh up from the wil

derness, leaning on her beloved?" It was Rachel now a leper, white as snow, leaning on Esrom. The pilgrims shrunk back, and stood afar off. They were ready to exclaim, "God has rejected her, although you vouched for her." Sheshbazzar turned to them with the majesty of an angel, saying, "There is hope in Israel concerning this thing. It is of the Lord; but it is for good, as in the case of MIRIAM." Turning to Rachel, with the mildness of an angel, he said, "Though you have lain among the pots, yet shall you be as the wings of a dove, covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold."

No. II.

VARIETIES FROM OVERSIGHT.

We are not so susceptible or watchful in all things now, as when we first said to ourselves, whilst weeping at the foot of the Cross, "Without holiness I shall not see the Lord." Then, all our old regrets, and all our new desires, and all our hopes and fears for eternity, threw light upon the meaning of holiness, and warmth into the resolution to follow it, through good report and bad report. Thus the maxim was mighty, whilst we were melted with the wonders of redeeming love, and awed by the solemnities of eternity.

Now, we recollect this well. We cannot forget it. Accordingly, whenever we so fall off from the rule or the spirit of holiness, as te be startled at the declension, or to become afraid of consequences, we naturally say to ourselves, "Ah, this is the sad effect of losing my first love. Could I only recall the days of old, when my heart was all tenderness, and my conscience all timidity, I should find my old maxim as powerful and suffiIr is quite possible to have a sincere desire to cient as ever." We have not a doubt of this. be holy, and even to have some real love to holi- We are quite sure, that we should soon act as ness, and yet to overlook, not only some of the well as ever, if we could only feel again as we did virtues or graces of a holy character, but also at first. And there can be no doubt, that a resome of the most effectual means of becoming newed sense of redeeming love and of eternal holy. A very great point is gained, however, things, would give great practical power to the when even one evangelical motive to holiness ac- command, "Follow holiness; without which no quires, either as a check or as a charm, sanctify- one shall see the Lord." The real question is, ing influence over our character. And, happily, however, how to get back that state of mind? It the motive or consideration which first lays hold does not return of itself, nor is it always found upon the conscience is, usually, the solemn fact, even when sought for with tears. Something that "without Holiness no one shall see the Lord." good is, indeed, always found in answer to fervent This is a consideration which may well awe and prayer: but it is not often that even such prayer influence both our habits and spirit: and there- brings back all the light and love of the days of fore, it is well that it is, in general, the first to ri-old. Even when it does, they are not such long vet our attention. Perhaps no other motive is so well suited, at first, to our condition, when we are just setting out in the Divine life. It is readily understood, and easily remembered. And as it is the fear of not seeing God in heaven at last, quite as much as the desire of seeing Him, that influences our choice, we really need a motive which can work, at once upon both our hopes and fears; for one that appealed to either exclusively, would defeat itself then. An increase of fear without hope, or of hope without any fear, would do us no real good.

I do, therefore, congratulate you upon the hold which this familiar, but powerful motive, has obtained upon your understanding and conscience. Its authority over you is a good sign. It is, indeed, no small proof of being "led by the Spirit:" for as many as have been led by Him, began to follow holiness, because, without" it, "no man shall see the Lord." It is, however, worthy of special attention, that all who have ever made any great progress in following holiness, have had to try the force of other motives. Indeed, they have found it necessary to do so; on finding that this one did not carry them far enough, or not so far as it did at first.

This is only what might be expected. No single motive, however sweet or solemn, can be equally influential at all times, or in all duties. Our circumstances change; and we change with them, not a little. Our best frames of mind too, are not permanent. Even our "first love," although it has not "waxed cold" exactly, has lost much of its original simplicity and tenderness.

days as they were at first, nor do they follow each other in such close succession.

You have observed and deplored all this. Did it ever occur to you, that there is no small danger of grieving the Holy Spirit, by thus making "the days of old," the standard for our present piety? The "good work" in the heart, of which He is the author and finisher, he "carries on" in its goodness, as well as keeps up in its being. Its mere preservation from utter extinction is not his great object. His care over "the root of the matter," is for the sake of the fruit it is capable of bearing. Accordingly, whenever we become less fruitful, or even cease trying to bring forth more fruit than we began with, He soon makes us to feel somewhat doubtful as to the very life of the root itself. Indeed, we are any thing but sure that the root of the matter is in us at all, when the branches of our profession become very barren. They will not, and cannot, be very fruitful, however, if we grieve the Holy Spirit, by neglecting or overlooking any of the great motives which he employs for sanctification.

Now, although the solemn consideration which I have been commending so strongly, is one of them, and a motive never to be laid aside or lost sight of, it is not the chief motive by which the Spirit works. He gencrally begins with it; but He never ends with it. And this is only what might be expected: for His special office is to glorify Christ. He will not, therefore, keep up the sanctifying power of any motive, however good, which is allowed to take that place in our attention, which belongs to the Saviour. Now