CHAPTER X.

TALKATIVES.

If a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself.—Gal. vi. 3.

Thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked.-Rev. iii. 17.

I will come to you shortly, if the Lord will, and will know, not the speech of them which are puffed up, but the power. For THE KINGDOM OF GOD IS NOT IN WORD, BUT IN POWER.1 Cor iv. 19-20.

BUT many of the converts "of the will of the flesh" do not go back like "Pliable," or like Bunyan in his first false conversion, but are like "Talkative" of "Prating Row,”—“ a tall man and something more comely at a distance than near at hand -whom Christian fell in with further on in his pilgrimage, who met with no " Slough of Despond' to turn him back.

It is to be feared that some of this sort of false converts are often to be found in prominent positions in the different bodies of Christians, and that they are not always to be sought in vain even in our pulpits.

Bunyan was an example of this more abiding false conversion "of the will of the flesh," as he had been before of the more temporary sort. For after he had gone all lengths in sin after giving up in despair his first false conversion, he again reformed so entirely as to outward conduct that "our neigh

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bours," he says, "did take me to be a very godly man, a new and religious man, and did marvel much to see so great and famous alteration in my life and manners, and indeed so it was, though I knew not Christ, nor grace nor faith nor hope; for, as I have since seen, had I then died my state had been most fearful."

And he remained this entirely reformed character outwardly, and, as he says, " now a brisk talker of myself in the things of religion," till God in mercy, by bringing him into the company of some truly converted ones, showed him, in the entire difference between himself and them, the falsity of his supposed conversion, and that he was just as much in the broad road to destruction in his reformation as he had been in his profligacy; only going to hell respectably and religiously instead of, as before, disrespectably and irreligiously; but still as certainly on the way there, though delighting all the while in his supposed godliness and in the opinion of his neighbours about it; for "my conversion was," he says, "as great as for Tom of Bedlam to become a sober man. Now, therefore, they began to praise, to commend, and to speak well of me both to my face and behind my back. Now I was, as they said, become godly; now I was a right honest man. But, oh! when I understood these were their words and opinions of me it pleased me mighty well; for though as yet I was nothing but a poor painted hypocrite, yet I loved to be talked of as one that was truly godly. I was proud of my godliness."

So much for the power to reform a man's outward life, and gain for him both the world's and his own good opinion, of a false conversion, "of the will of the flesh."

CHAPTER XI.

DEATH-BED REPENTANCE.

A deceived heart hath turned him aside that he cannot deliver his soul, nor say, Is there not a lie in my right hand?—Is. xliv. 20.

It seems to have been a conversion of the sort spoken of in the last two chapters, "of the will of the flesh," that the poor man out of the Consumption Hospital in the second, and the poor girl in the beer-shop in the fourth chapter, were trying to die upon, till God mercifully showed them its falseness,

and led them to a true conversion.

And it is probably this sort of conversion that has brought what are called "Death-bed repentances" into general bad repute.

For ministers and others have heard people express, on what was believed to be their death-bed, much sorrow for the wrongness of their past lives, and say how differently they would live if they had their time over again, and that they were ready to die and had full hope that all would be well with them after death; and when, contrary to expectation, they have recovered, they have gone back into the world and farther from God than ever. And so

it has been said that no trust can be placed in these things seen in those who have died, as proofs that they were right with God. And it is right to say this if only these things have been seen in them; for all of them may exist apart from Christ, and

there is no salvation but in Him (Acts iv. 12; John xiv. 6).

A young man, named HM--, lying in one of the London hospitals and believed to be dying, told a friend visiting him that he saw how wrong his life had been, and was very sorry for it, but that he had now given up the world and had turned to God, and was passing the chief part of his time in prayer, and was quite ready and willing to die.

His friend said to him, "M- , you are on the brink of hell while fancying that you are going to heaven. This is what they call a death-bed repentance.' You have not given up the world. It is only that God has pulled you out of it. Of course it is nothing to you as you lie there on what you believe to be your death-bed; but if it should please Him to raise you up again, you would go into it as much as ever.

He was so certain of this because the young man, with all his sight of the wrong things in his life, showed no sign of any real sense of his sin against God (Ps. li. 4), and therefore, of course, no sign of having come to Christ as his Saviour from his sins. But he could make no impression on him, though he tried hard to bring to bear upon his conscience passages of the Word of God suitable for waking him up to a sense of sin.

But it pleased God to raise him up again, and to bring him out of the hospital. His friend said to him on his coming to him soon afterwards, "Well, M--, how is it with you now? Are you as completely turned to God as you believed yourself to be in the hospital?"

The poor young man said that all he had felt there had gone from him, and that he was farther

from God now than in his bad life before going in there; and added, with terrible bitterness of expression, that if there were a hell it could not be worse than what he now felt in himself, and the sooner he was in it the better.

His friend tried to show him the wickedness of speaking in such a way, and told him that instead of being farther from God, he was now much nearer to Him than in his self-righteous state in the Hospital, and that no doubt He had mercifully raised him up again for the very purpose of showing him the vanity of his sick-bed repentance in order to lead him to true repentance and salvation in Christ; and he entreated him, now he saw himself a lost sinner, at once to come to Him and be saved.

He then, not being able himself further to attend to him at the moment, sent him to the house of a dear Christian brother, whom he believed to be at home, and able to give the time needed for dealing with such a case.

But when free from business in the evening he could not rest because of thinking about the young man. He went to the house of a missionary who, he believed, knew his address. The missionary knew the street but not the number of the house, but said he could take him to it. They went there together, and found him in a state of black despair. He had failed to find the Christian brother in the morning, and had been brooding over his wretchedness all day, and so sinking deeper and deeper in misery. They asked him if there was a room there in which they could be in private with him. He said, No; but that he would gladly come with them to the missionary's house.

When they got there the friend said to him, "Now, M- we have had plenty of talk; come