But terror thou hast none for souls redeemed,
Whose guilt is pardoned, and on whom hath gleamed,
Bright from the face of God, hope, joy, and peace,
And bade their fears of wrath forever cease.
Redeeming Saviour! gird thee on thy might,
And travel forth upon the wings of light.
Thy church awaits thine advent; waits to see
Thy grace omnipotent - her children free ;-
Fallen Zion raised from where she sits forlorn,
The Christian's pity, and the Pagan's scorn; —
To see a world redeemed from Satan's rod,
Rise, and remember, and adore her God.

Redeemer, Lord, I look to thee for rest;
With faith inspire this timid, doubting breast;
There shed abroad thy love, thy peace, thy joy ;
Let hope's full song my future days employ,
Till my whole nature, ransomed and complete,
Stands clothed in glory at thy Godhead's seat.

REFINER.

My Saviour is the REFINER of my soul. My soul is a precious substance, originally created in the image of God, a type of his own pure and exalted nature, and very suitably compared gold, the most precious of all metals — the standard of value, by which all earthly things are tried. “But how is the gold become dim! how is the most fine gold changed!"* My soul, , naturally, is like gold thrown back into its native mine, and intermixed with the basest material. My Saviour has devoted himself, in the exercise of the severest self-denial, to the fiery labor of a refiner. “ He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may

, offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness.” Yea, by the power of his Spirit and his

judgments, he was to be himself “ like a refiner's

fire." *

a

But all the children of God are the spiritual sons of Levi, being made “ priests unto God," by the blood of the Lamb; and, being destined to become vessels of honor in the heavenly sanctuary, they require that refining process through which my Saviour engages to bring them. Gold, in its native state, having much of earthy and stony material mixed with it, is first of all broken in pieces, even to powder; then placed in a crucible, with some foreign substance as a solvent, and melted in a fire of intense heat. Gold requires a greater heat for its fusion than any other metal. The refiner stands or sits beside the fire, to superintend the process, to regulate the heat, and to watch the completion of the work. The work is completed when all the foreign substances are consumed or removed, in the form of dross, and the gold, without the loss of a single grain, is rendered so pure, that the refiner can see his own face reflected in the molten metal.

My Saviour is pursuing a similar process with the souls, whom he values above gold, that he may employ them forever, to his own glory, in

the temple above. By his holy word and Spirit he subjects my soul to a discipline which brings it into a state of contrition, or spiritual brokenness. "Is not my word like as a fire? saith the Lord; and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces? In this humble state he puts me and keeps me in the furnace of affliction, dissolving the stony parts of my nature, and separating its earthly and fleshly affections. He sits by and regulates the fire. His wisdom will not let it be too cool. His love will not allow it to exceed the necessary degree of heat. Of me, and of his church universal, he will in the issue say to his Father, "Of them which thou gavest me have 1 lost none." At last, when affliction and the grave have instrumentally done their part, the divine Refiner will discern his own image, with its every feature, reflected in my refined and renewed nature, and will place me forever near him, to be the object of his complacency and delight. ‡

Then let the furnace burn one seven times more:
I shrink not from the test, if Thou art near,
My God! as once on proud Euphrates' shore,

*Jer. xxiii. 29. + John xviii. 9.

Zech. xiii. 9.

When thy three saints, without a sigh or tear, On Shinah's plain endured the tyrant's doom severe.

I know the gracious purpose of thy love,

Not to destroy, but only to refine; To fit my spirit for thy courts above,

Where all the vessels of thy glory shine: Then welcome be the flame, if that bright lot is mine.

My bonds are all the loss I can sustain,

In sharp affliction's hottest, longest fires : Well-purchased loss ! - my soul's eternal gain!

Thus martyrs pressed the stake with fond desires, And, in their meteor cars, flew to the heavenly choirs.

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