sense, and include all that Jesus endured for the healing of the soul. Thus Jesus is the great physician, his precious blood the healing medicine, awakened sinners who feel their need of him the sick patients, and when they come to him by faith they are healed. But, on the other hand, sinners in an unconverted state are represented by our Saviour as not being healed: "For this people's heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes have they closed; lest at any time they should see with their eyes and hear with their ears, and should understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them." (Matt. xiii. 15.) They have never felt sin as the disease of the soul; never applied to Jesus as the great Physician, and therefore their spiritual health is not recovered. But is this a state to rest in? What should we think of a man who was sick of a dan gerous disease, who heard of a medicine that would cure him, and of a skilful physician ready to apply it, and yet refused both the phy sician and the remedy? Yet such is really the case with all those who are not looking unto Jesus by faith, as "wounded for our transgres sions, and bruised for our iniquities;" who fly to other remedies to make their peace with God, and3 are not healed by the stripes of + Jesus. Let such consider, that the end of these things is death: for, as the diseases of the body will surely bring it to the grave, except they be healed; so surely will sin destroy the soul, and bring it to everlasting death, unless this disease of the soul be healed by means of that remedy which is provided in Jesus Christ. But happy are they who have found health and salvation in the Lord Jesus. They have peace with God through Christ, and in looking to him as "wounded for their transgressions and bruised for their iniquities," they will find a remedy for every malady. Faith in Christ will not only comfort their hearts, but establish them in every good word and work. It will cause them to hate sin, and to follow holiness; to make straight paths for their feet, lest, as it is expressed, Heb. xii. 13, "that which is lame be turned out of the way, but rather let it be healed;" and thus it will appear, that their spiritual health is recovered by what their Saviour had done and suffered for them; and they may look forward with lively hope to that time, when all remains of the disease of sin shall be done away, and they shall be received into the heavenly felicity as sound members of Christ's mystical body LITOREUS. THE MISSIONARY. THE fond and duteous daughter's eye Thus does the Missionary trace DECEMBER 1822. 3 N き Does well to his 'reft heart supply A something more than earthly love And Brainerd, Swartz, and Martyn's name, Martyn, how many a silent tear No giant son of poesy, None, Martyn, are so dear as thee. Thy high-born genius might inspire, If lone it stood, our proudest lyre; But thou hadst all of human worth we deem, Wast all the Christian and the man should seem. Britons, if honour be your aim, If these be yours, and these you prize, And ev'ry energy unite To send the heathen Gospel light. O, if you have not souls to feel Fully the Missionary's zeal, Give him at least your prayers, your heart, And of your gold no scanty part, And let your gen'rous actions prove You have some portion of his love. LETA. ON TRUE AND FALSE PEACE. MY DEAR FRIEND, VERY happy should I be to be instrumental in affording you that comfort I am conscious your afflicted situation calls for. I say that comfort, because I know there is such a thing as counterfeits of that, as well as of other things; and there is also such a thing as laying hold of true comfort in an unlawful way: were this not the case, I see no propriety in the exhortation given us, to try the spirits whether they be of God: surely, then, my friend, it is of importance to examine. Far be it from me to wish to throw the least unnecessary damp on your spirits; no-I wish you, from my heart, that peace which passeth all understanding; but, my dear friend, beware, I beseech you, of taking up with any thing short of what God will approve. Do you inquire, How shall I know, so as to ascertain it clearly? I answer, by prayer and watchfulness: that which comes from God, will always lead to God, to seek an union with him, without which there can be no spiritual life, much less any of the fruits of the Spirit, such as resignation to the mind and will of God, from a principle of faith in him, and love to him. You seem naturally to possess that degree of amiable quietness of disposition, that makes me very jealous lest this should be substituted for the grace of the Spirit. It is good in itself, and a blessing to be of that temper of mind; but still bear with me, if I speak after our Lord, and say, "Except we are born again (or, in other words, become new creatures), we cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven." Now, this certainly implies a thorough change, an aversion to that we once loved, and a love to that which we formerly disliked. Is this the case? Do our consciences bear witness within, and our conduct without, that it is so; and that not from circumstances, but principle? For instance: I may be too indisposed in body to relish company, the weight and importance of eternal things may make a very great impression on my mind, and yet my choice itself not altered, provided this was not the case: now, in order to gain satisfaction therein, we should do well to watch our inclinations when our bodies are relieved. If, then, we are seeking reconciliation with God, through the death of his Son, the manifestation of it to our hearts by his Spirit, as that which alone can afford true comfort, giving up ourselves to him, and turning our backs on a corrupt world, avoiding all unnecessary connexions, because injurious to the life of our souls : surely this would be a happy evidence of our troubles being truly sanctified, and nothing short of this, I think, is; and, therefore, be not angry at my writing thus. I want to meet you in heaven; and I tremble lest, as I said before, your amiable disposition by nature should be mistaken for the work of grace, and so you should stop short of that angels' nature, ere we share their joys. real I would humbly hope this is your pursuit. Though I have thus written, I trust it will be received in the spirit I feel I write : my regard for you constrained me to it, because I would have my friend enjoy that which will stand trial, support under it, and render her at length more than conqueror. I know if the work is not of God, it will sooner or later come to nought; and therefore let us imitate the Psalmist, and cry earnestly to the Lord, that since the heart, we are told, is deceitful, the work we are engaged in the most important; that he would discover to us our true character, as we are able to bear, and with every discovery enable us to apply unto Him, as the Lord our healer, that we may be saved with a present and final salvation. This is surely the end the Lord has in afflictions: to concur with him is the best way to have them removed, if he sees it good, and the sure way to have them turned eventually into blessings. I feel for you; but what is all the compassion and sympathy of the creature, in comparison to His, who at the approaching season emptied himself of all his glory for us and for our salvation? This was indeed compassion like a God, and has he lost any part of it? No: we are told, He is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. "Then let our humble faith address : I should rejoice to hear of the removal of the painful affliction you have so long laboured under. No one would, I am sure, hear of your recovery with great pleasure than myself. However, I trust it will bring forth those blessed fruits of J repentance, faith, and holiness in your experience, which will not only rejoice the hearts of those who know you here, but be an addition of joy to the angels of heaven; and whatever be the event, if this is but the case, I am sure you will then say, the Lord has done all things well. I hope Mrs. K calls on you; my kind love to her: I often long to see her: though at a distance, I trust we are united together by that love which is stronger than death. Ere long we shall meet above, where all is perfect harmony and peace. "Then let us earnestly contend, O let us strive with all our consecrated powers to win the wellfought day; the time is short, the end is at hand: let us be diligent, that when the bridegroom cometh, we may then be counted truly wise: even so saith Yours affectionately, SERMON ON THE DYING THIEF*. Luke, xxiii. 42, 43.-And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom. And Jesus said unto him, Verily, I say unto thee, to-day thou shalt be with me in Para dise. THE whole of our blessed Saviours short but eventful history is replete with wonders. In every part of it, from the hour of his birth to the moment in which he expired on the cross, may be seen a wonderful mixture of dignity and debasement. "When he was made flesh, and dwelt among us," how humiliating were the circumstances under which he appeared! Born of obscure parents, poverty was his constant companion, and, agree *See Simeon's Skeletons, II. J. Ď. O. ably to his own declaration, he had "not where to lay his head." But, abject as this humiliation was, it was accompanied with many glorious manifestations of his supreme power and dignity, which were particularly conspicuous in some of the most remarkable scenes of his degradation. Though born at a common inn, and laid in a manger, yet was his birth_announced to the wondering shepherds by a company of the angelic host, and to the Magi, or eastern philosophers, by a star of uncommon appearance, which also conducted them to the presence of the Lord of glory. Again, on another most humiliating occasion, his temptation in the wilderness, what an illustrious display of divine majesty was exhibited! Though all the powers of hell were leagued against him, and the inveterate foe of God and man was allowed to employ his utmost subtlety, and try every stratagem to seduce him into sin, yet was the tempter completely foiled in his designs; and when Jesus issued his irresistible mandate, "Get thee hence, Satan," he was instantly compelled to quit his sacred presence. The same dignity attended the adorable Redeemer even to the last sad scene of his debasement, when he suffered the bitter pangs of the accursed tree with the vilest of malefactors. In this lowest state of his degradation, where, to redeem our sinful race from eternal destruction, he drained the last drop from the cup of his Father's wrath; and such was the dreadful agony he endured, that he was constrained to exclaim, "My God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me?" -even at this awful moment he asserts his divine power to save; and when one of the unhappy criminals, softened by divine grace, addresses him in the words of the text, " Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom!" he immediately replies, "Verily I say unto thee, to-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise." This highly interesting portion of sacred history naturally divides itself into these two parts; First, The petition of the dying thief. Secondly, Our Lord's gracious answer. I. This petition may be considered as containing an acknow ledgment of our Lord's dignity, and an affiance in his mercy. 1st. Christ had often asserted that he was a king, though at the same time he disclaimed all temporal authority, and declared that his kingdom was wholly of a spiritual nature. In consequence of his laying claim to this character, he was accused, mocked, condemned, and crucified. But though he was thus, according to the divine prediction, " despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief," this poor condemned criminal acknowledged him to be a king mighty to save." Though he saw him in the most abject situation that can be conceived, deserted by his disciples, reviled and insulted by the priests, the scribes, and the multitude, accused of blasphemy and sedition, and punished as a vile impostor; yet so strong was his faith, that it pierced the cloud which veiled the Saviour's dignity, and beheld him as the Lord of life and glory. Though extended on the ignominious cross, he saw him as if he were seated on a radiant throne, and addressing him as he would a potent monarch, he proclaimed him sovereign of the invisible world, Lord, remember me," &c. 2d. These words also imply an affiance in his mercy, springing from a conviction that he was not only able, but also willing, to save. Often had our Saviour been entreated to heal bodily disorders, but rarely had any application been made in behalf of the soul. The deaf and the dumb, the blind and the lame, lepers and paralytic, were continually coming to him for cure, while that infinitely more dreadful and destructive malady, sin, the disease of the soul, was perhaps altogether disregarded. But, on the contrary, the prayer of the dying malefactor had respect only to spiritual mercies. He did not ask to have his life prolonged, or his agony mitigated, but only that his soul might be saved from death. And for obtaining this blessing he relied entirely on the free grace of Christ, convinced that it was wholly unmerited on his part. Neither do we find that he expressed any doubt of the Saviour's power or willingness to grant his petition. As the leper, or the man whose son was tormented with |