longings and breathings in my soul, I cried to Christ to call me. Thus I continued for a time,—all on a flame to be converted to Jesus Christ. I did also see at that day, such glory in a converted state, that I could not be contented without a share therein. Gold!-could it have been gotten for gold-what would I have given for it? Had I a whole world, it had all gone, ten thousand times over,—that my soul might have been in a converted state.

"How lovely now was every one in my eyes, that I thought to be converted, whether man or woman! They shone-they walked like a people that carried the broad seal of Heaven about them. Oh! I saw 'the lot had fallen to them in plea. sant places, and they had a goodly heritage.' But that which made me sick was, that of Christ, in St. Mark, He went up into a mountain, and called to him whom he would, and they came unto him.' Mark iii. 13.

"This Scripture made me faint and fear;-yet it kindled fire in my soul. That which made me fear was this ;-lest Christ should have no liking to me: for He called whom he would! But, O, the glory I saw in that condition, did still so engage my heart, that I could seldom read of any whom Christ did call, but I presently wished,-WOULD I had been in their clothes! Would I had been born Peter! Would I had been born John! Or, would I had been by and heard Him when he called them,-how I would have cried, O Lord, call me also! But oh, I feared he would not call me."

However wrong the form of this holy solicitude may be, the spirit of it is beyond all price. I would rather breathe this spirit of intense desire in unwise forms, than utter the most accurate prayers for conversion in a formal way. Bunyan erred when he looked for a Call apart from the Gospel : but he was not too solicitous about conversion, nor too willing to "count all things but loss" for it. I am often tempted, when my eye falls upon the cold reasonings of some Critics against his hot desires, to go into as metaphysical an analysis of their coldness, as they give of his heart; and thus to demonstrate that their reasonings are more "insane" than his own. And they are certainly more below the mark than he was above it; if there be any truth in the Bible, any greatness in Salvation, or any solemnity in Eternity. His theology is bad; but their philosophy is worthless. His false thoughts are redeemed by his pure spirit; but theirs have no redeeming quality; for their eloquence only aggravates their heartlessness.

A man

with no hopes, is certainly a pitiable object: but a man with no fears, is monstrous in a world where sin abounds, and im. mortality is believed, and accountability acknowledged. In such a world, even Bunyan's ravings are wisdom, compared with either the dumb apathy, or the drivelling inanities of nominal Christians. His "hot fits," are extravagant; but their cold temperament is revolting. It is painful to hear Bunyan say of his failure, whilst looking for the call of Grace apart from the call of Truth, "The Lord let me go thus many months together, and showed me nothing, either that I was already, or should be called hereafter:" but it is shocking to hear Paley say, "If we press and insist upon Conversion as indispensable to All for the purpose of being saved, we should mislead some who were never, that they knew, either indifferent to religion, or alienated from it." Such persons "need

not be made miserable by the want of a consciousness of such a change." Sermons, p. 123. Paley, I believe, thought more wisely before he died: but thus he wrote when he had most influence upon public opinion.

Bunyan's conflict at this time terminated in a dreamy sort of hope that he might eventually be converted; and, as usual, that hope rested quite as much upon the peculiar manner in which the Text presented itself, as upon what it meant :-" At last after much time spent, and many groans to God, that I might be made partaker of the holy and heavenly calling, that word came in upon me, I will cleanse their blood, that I have not cleansed; for the Lord dwelleth in Zion.' Joel iii. 21. Those words, I thought, were sent to encourage me to wait still on God; and signified unto me that, if I were not already, yet the time might come when I might be in truth, converted unto Christ."

What shall we say to these things? Something ought to be said, and that very plainly. In the present day, few things need more to be rejudged than the remarkable Experience of the good men of former ages. Their experience, because of their eventual goodness, is read and remembered by the pious and the thoughtful and not unfrequently appealed to, in order to test or explain the religious dilemmas and vicissi tudes of other minds. It is also confounded with the terror of the Philippian jailor, or with the anguish of the Pentecostal converts, as if it originated in the same causes, or necessari, ly belonged to real conversion.

This is neither wise nor fair. Lydia did not tremble like

the Jailor, nor was Timothy cut to the heart like the Jewish converts; and yet their being "born again of the Spirit" is never questioned, by any one who believes in the necessity of the new birth. We almost take for granted, however, that distressing doubts and fears are inseparable from true piety, at its outset. We are even somewhat inclined to suspect, that their personal religion is very superficial, if not insincere, who have never been deeply exercised with perplexing questions, or with oppressive fears. And we certainly think best, of those who suffer most in this way. This is hardly to be wondered at for we have seldom, if ever, seen a Christian who was not in deep waters at first: whereas, we have always seen, that those professors of religion, who have "no changes, fear not God." But still, although it be a very suspicious thing to have no changes from hope to fear, or from faith to doubt, it does not follow that all changes of this kind, are either necessary or useful parts of Christian experience. Good may, indeed, come out of the worst of them, in the long run; but when it does so, not a few of them are seen to be bad in them. selves. This is only too true, in regard to such doubts and fears as Bunyan gave way to. He doubted every thing by turns, and feared the worst always, for years. But he suffered so much, and was so sincere, that we readily, almost instinctively, refer one half of his doubts to his deep humility, and the other half of them to the suggestions of Satan. Satan, (as we shall see) had, no doubt, not a little to do with what Bunyan well calls, "the fiery force" of his strong temp. tations. That force was too fiery, to be altogether natural. Its rushing flame of white heat, drove back, and almost quench. ed occasionally, a "very flame" of holy and heavenly desire, which came as truly from both the centre and surface of his heart, as light or heat from the sun. But still, he was to blame. He deserves pity; but he must be blamed, if we would not reflect upon the Word of God. That Word did not warrant the questions he started, nor countenance the spirit in which they were indulged. Such questions as- -Am I elected? Am I called, or likely to be called? Is there any room in Heaven, or in the love of Christ for me? Am I a reprobate, or too guilty to be forgiven, or too late to be welcome?Such questions are absolutely forbidden by the scriptural fact, that Christ requires us to receive the Kingdom of God as little children. He says expressly and repeatedly, that "whosoever

And

shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, shall not enter therein." Mark x. 15.

When this first requirement of the Gospel becomes the grand maxim of the Church, both curious and racking questions will soon go out of fashion; or be as promptly avoided or suppressed by the serious, as temptations to blasphemy, vice, or atheism. Remarkable Experiences, also, which are now made standards of conversion, or quoted to explain the discou. ragements of some converts, will be less admired, or appealed to. A LITTLE CHILD will then be more looked at as the model of true humility, than the Jailor trembling, or Whitefield writing "bitter things against himself," or even than Bunyan at his wits' end.

They do not look with the same eyes as Christ did upon a little child,—or they have seen only spoiled children—or look. ed at children too big, who do not see in the simplicity of a little child, the very spirit of that meekness and humility which the Saviour requires of us, in order to our entering into his kingdom on earth or in heaven. He meant of course, not that a child was meek or humble towards God, but that it was so towards men, and especially when set in the midst of strangers and superiors. Then, a little child, if well brought up (and Christ did not refer to the impudent or peevish) will believe what he is told, accept what is given him, and do what he is bid. Such a child would never think of starting doubts about the truth of any promise made to him, or of questioning his welcome to any gift offered to him, or of suspecting the good will of those who were good to him. He would not even ask for any explanation of the private reasons which influenced all this kindness, nor dream of saying that it could not be meant for him. Or if he did think it too much for so little a boy, the thought would only make his thanks the readier, and his blushes the deeper.

It was evidently something of this kind, the Saviour meant when he made a little child the eternal model of true humility. It was, however, of Humility-not of penitence; and of humility in receiving, not in asking nor in employing what is promised in the Gospel. This distinction must not be lost sight of. It is only as an example of receiving aright, that the child is held up by Christ to our imitation. Asking aright, is set before us by Christ in the Publican smiting upon his breast, and standing afar off in the temple, and crying for mercy with downcast eyes. In like manner, improving the gifts of God

aright, is exemplified to us by Christ, in the Parable of the Talents. Thus it is to reflecting men, not to little children, we are sent, for the model of prayers and diligence. A child is, however, not a less perfect model of receiving aright, both gifts and promises. He may wonder, and blush to the very ears, and advance with a tottering foot and a timid hand, when good things are held out to him, or great promises made to him; but he has no suspicions; he starts no objections; he gives way to no curious questions nor dark surmises. He is too much pleased to be of a doubtful mind. He lets the gifts and promises made to him, make all their natural impression upon his heart, even if that make him dance with joy.

Now this is just the spirit in which Christ wishes men to receive the glad tidings of Salvation, or the Gospel of the Kingdom; readily, gratefully, and even joyfully. He does not command or sanction doubts, questions, or hesitation. He throws no serious mind upon the mysteries of either Grace or Providence, except to stir it up to "strive to enter into the Kingdom of God."

Very

It is, I am well aware, easier said than done, to receive the offers and promises of that Kingdom like a little child. few do so at first. What then? They are glad to do so at last. Not one of those, Bunyan not excepted, who tried other methods, found solid peace or hope, until they embraced the Promises, just as a little child takes his father's word, or his mother's offer. Until they received the Promise of the Kingdom thus, they did not enter into the joy, the peace, or the safety, which the Kingdom of God provides for its willing subjects. They looked at them, indeed, with a longing eye, and prayed for them with strong cries and tears, and admired them with a holy esteem; but they could not appropriate them. They sometimes thought and felt, for a moment, that they had entered into the joy of salvation, and found rest to their souls: but the sweet hope did not last long. It could not. They took it up, not as a little child, because it was set before them in the Gospel of the Kingdom; but because they allowed themselves to take their calling and election for granted then, or because they felt something which seemed to give them a right to believe the promises. The fact is, they wanted from the first to believe the glad tidings of the Gospel, not as great sinners only, nor as little children simply, but as great favourites; or as "chosen and ordained" heirs of the Kingdom. They had no objections to believe it as great sinners, nor to be