I believe the only way on this side of the grave to learn the doctrine of reprobation is in an elect experience. I say on this side of the grave, because all the non-elect, all the goats, will believe in reprobation when they are got on the other side of the grave in everlasting fire, and find the stroke of an unchangeable God's anger upon them! I say the goats will believe in reprobation then, every one of them, and not before, in my opinion.

And though I feel myself a believer in everlasting fire, predestinated for, and therefore sure to fall upon the goats; yet I feel that I have a gentler, kindlier, and more sincere, and more solid natural affection to all my non-elect fellow creatures, than any Arminians have. The Arminians say and do not. But I feel that I would have an open purse and heart as far as I could to help and comfort the non-elect in their natural and worldly troubles. Thus Christ, as a man, wept over Jerusalem. Thus, as feeling for his fellow-creatures, he fed at one time five thousand, and at another time four thousand. Christ had the bowels of a man as well as the feelings of a God. To be without natural affection is the mark of a reprobate. (Rom. i. 31.) And yet many of our mongrel believers in universal redemption could not have scarce aught of any consequence screwed out of them to relieve their poor fellow-creatures in distress. Universal redemptionists have, I find generally, hearts made of steel, setting aside that universal redemption is one of the devil's wings that he flies with to deceive all mankind. (I have not time to say any thing here on that fruitful matter of universal redemption, except that it is the wooden sword with which the devil and the Arminians fight against the adamantine pillar of the doctrine of reprobation.)

But what surprises me so much is, hearing people talk of the fear of the Lord, and yet either denying or speaking slightly of reprobation. If such people fear God as they say, I want to know what God it is that they fear? Is it the heavenly Potter that makes the left-hand multitudes for hell, and the right-hand multitudes for heaven? Is this the God they fear, the sovereign of heaven, earth, and hell? Or, is it some God of their own that they fear, whom they have coined up out of their own brain? For I acknowledge I cannot fathom it. For I can see people proud, vain, conceited, yea, as proud as the devil himself; so that I do not thus wonder to meet with many opposers of reprobation! But, O! my friends, for a person to be weighed in an even balance, and not to be able to see which way the scale turns, as to whether reprobated or elected by the Sovereign King and Lord of All! I say this will give him such a shaking in his experience, will leave such lasting impressions on his soul, and will so reveal the character of God as loving the race of Jacob and hating the race of Esau, as no tongue can tell! beholding of God as the lover of some and as the hater of others, leaves lasting impressions on those who spiritually are so led to know, experience, and feel these solemn realities. According as it is written to those believers who were tempted to say, "What has the Lord done so much for us?" Have I not hated Esau? says

The

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the Lord!" (Mal. i. 2.) A sense of the discriminating mercy of God to one's own poor soul while he has passed by others in hatred; this cuts our pride to pieces; this stops our murmuring; and, instead of quarrelling with the blessed God for not giving us this or that, we are, on the contrary, swallowed up in blissful wonder and rapture, saying, "Why ever should God set his affections on me and pass by others?" Why me?" says the poor soul humbled for sin and broken down out of self. 66 Why me?" adds again the poor regenerate man, lost in amazement at the mercy of God to him; stunned in confusion and awe at the severity of God to the non-elect! I am," says the regenerate man, "not at all in and of myself any better than those who go to hell!" These things, through God's grace, madden, flurry, and goad our murmuring souls; teach us to bless God that he should fix on us as objects of his choice; teach us to fix an infinite value on election; strike us with a solemn awe concerning reprobation; and make us to fear God! These things breed in our souls a solemn feeling, and patient reverence to our unchangeable God. These things teach us the difference between the idol the Arminians worship, and the Supreme God of heaven, earth, and hell, whom an experimental Christian worships! May this God be my God, for I acknowledge I have no great liking to the god, Chance, whom all the deniers of reprobation worship out and out. Shame upon them and on their idol too!

Let men say what they will, the glory of God is wrapped up in his decrees; and woe be unto the man who intermeddles with them. Hallelujah! for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.

The opening leaves of God's decrees; the glory of his sovereignty; the immortal honours of his kingdom; the certainty of hell; the certainty of heaven; the glorious and fixed determination of the Almighty to do what he will among the armies of heaven and the inhabitants of the earth; all illuminate the doctrine of reprobation in my soul. How great and wonderful are the works of God; how just his judgments; how sure, firm, and lasting are his decrees, though men and devils strive all they can to overturn them. Vain attempt! The seals of fate; the iron leaves of God's predestination; swift time with its heavy hands is fast unfolding! And, as I believe my name to be written in the book of life, so I believe all the names of all the non-elect are unalterably written in the book of death, let men say what they will. The footsteps of the Almighty shall be dipped in the everlasting ruin of his enemies. (Psa. lxviii. 21-23.) Abingdon.

I. K.

BREATHINGS OF THE HEART.

(Extract of a Letter.)

My dear Friend, I have been sorely tried these few weeks past. The dear Lord, the best of friends, has hidden his face from me; and I have been groping for the wall like a blind man, with nothing but

darkness within and without. Many times am I fearful that I shall never hold on my way; and I tremble sometimes at my presumption at opening my mouth in the name of a holy God. O wretch, wretch that I am, that after so many past mercies I should treat so gracious a God and Father as I do! At times it is astonishing to me how he can bear with me. Had he not been of one mind, and resting in his love, I had been long ago where hope never comes. Surely there never was such an old wretch in sin, nor such a babe in knowledge as I. I wonder sometimes that any body will ever have me in his house. I can assure you that, according to my feelings, one evening will be quite enough for you to have such a dragon and owl in your house; and satisfied I am that if the Master of the house come not with me, you will be sick enough of me for one evening, if you see me as I see myself. But I know that God can make darkness light, and crooked things straight in a moment. I want the presence and smiles of a covenant God, sweetly going before me, to feel my very soul wrapped up in his will, to be nothing in myself, and a dear Jesus to be all and in all. It grieves me to live at such a distance from the best Friend that sticketh closer than a brother, that has never failed me in all my straits, but has proved my faithful, promise-keeping God to this moment. Not one good thing has ever failed me; it is all come to pass. And yet to feel as I do sometimes, so carnal, so worldly, so beastly, so devilish, nay, such an out-of-the-way wretch! Paul declares that he was the chief of sinners and less than the least of all saints, but he did not know that poor John Warburton would ever be upon the earth. Had he known this as I know it myself, he would have said, "Except John Warburton." But it is a sweet subject for the children of God to differ in which is the greatest debtor to mercy. There is no danger of broken bones or of black eyes amongst bastards on this subject. It is very sweet when the dear Lord shows me my needs by stripping me, emptying me, and bringing me to the dunghill. It is sadly galling to my devilish, proud heart and pretty self, to have nothing but wounds and bruises and putrifying sores; and to be forced to cry out, My wounds stink and are corrupt because of my foolishness." But I find it very needful and useful to bring me to abhor self and to esteem sovereign grace. O what a mercy it is that it is not of him that willeth nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy. What must my poor soul look for if it depended on ought to dos or should dos? I must sink into hopeless despair for ever and ever. My poor soul hangs upon a perfect, complete, unalterable, finished salvation, to which nothing can be added, and from which nothing can be diminished. Israel shall be saved in the Lord with an everlasting salvation, and shall never be confounded world without end. My dear friend, there is no other road but this, and this alone suits me. O that it would please my dear Lord to bless me with more enjoyments of this salvation! I do want it again and again, for I find that the longer I travel in this vale of tears, the more weak, helpless, foolish, and ignorant I feel myself.

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My kind love to all the lovers of truth, but especially to my dear friend and much esteemed brother, May the good will of him that dwelt in the bush be with him, bless him, and surround him as a wall of fire.

May the Lord bless you and be with you, is the prayer of,

Yours in truth,

Trowbridge, March 29, 1838.

J. W.

THE CRY OF A WATCHMAN ON A DARK CORNER OF ZION'S WALL.

The evil and lamentation of J. G., of Essex, in your last December number is, and has been, a great evil in my sight for many years, inasmuch as I have felt a disposition to seclude myself from almost all the professed truth-preachers within my precincts; for I believe that nine-tenths of the preaching of the present day is only the pride, wind, and puff of poor, vain man, aided by the old, proud, and lying devil to deceive the hearts of the simple. From this sad source arise swarms of these poor dandified, foppish boys from the academies, with their spectacles and hair set up like porcupines' quills, apeing the ministers of the gospel; also from those lecturing and spouting clubs, and conversation-meetings, where the greatest ignorance, pride, and folly is manifested.

Again, others in common occupations of life get a notion of prattling about Scripture. "O!" says the devil and their own proud hearts, "you can preach." Away they run, anywhere and everywhere where they can be heard, to preach! Thus they catch the preaching-fever, and preach they will, and if they can get a people together to be as pleased with their preaching as they are pleased with it themselves, all is right, and they call it prosperity. Then they smile in the faces of their hearers, shake hands, congratulate, and, like Absalom, bless and kiss every one in the gate. And now the preacher stands tiptoe, looking all around him for admiration, expecting soon to become very popular, and have a very respectable congregation. But now, to prove it to the world that he is called to the work of the ministry, he begins to seek out for converts. And now, if any hypocrites will but come with a sad countenance, and tell him they like him and his preaching, and that they are converted under him, he will bless and caress them, and receive a thousand such if they come. But should a sober-minded soul, "not ignorant of Satan's devices," speak one word to cross him in his own pride and glory, for that's what it is, the pious, smiling preacher turns savage as a bear. "O!" says he, am not I to do as I please? Am not I the preacher?" Thus the visible church is crowded with formalists, hypocrites, and enemies to the truth of Jesus, and overrunned with "grievous wolves not sparing the poor flock of Christ." For wherever these puffed-up pedantic parsons go preaching, they spare not to belabour and calumniate the poor flock of Christ. And if their professed piety forbids them to speak too much evil of the saints of Jesus, they will shoot out the lip, make a long, sad face, and shake their heads, saying, "Oh, oh! I had rather be silent." And thus, to see their parsonic looks, walks, and would-be-grammatical, pretty, little, nice, fine words, to please the polite hypocrites, is really sickening to a humble, honest soul.

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But where is the love, truth, and glory of Jesus preached, and the power of the holy Comforter felt? O tell me, ye shepherds of Israel, where the eternal sun of heaven shines, that I may find some

warm sunny bank, where I may lead my poor, weak, sickly lambs to feed, lie down, and rest! O! where are the green gospel pastures and sweet cowslip meads, where I can lead Christ's tender lambs to crop the young virgin-grass, tender herb, and sweet flowers, like those of Sharon's field? Where are the perennial springs, the meandering streams, and still waters, that I may drink my fill and water the flock, and find my poor soul restored to the love, peace, and joy of God's salvation? O! thou dear, good, and chief Shepherd, look down upon thy poor scattered flock, "aid them by thy friendly crook, and cheer their hearts with thy merry gospel-pipe; thy sheep that dwell solitarily in this dark wood, that they may feed in Bashan and in Gilead, as in the days of old." O! Jesus, thou good Shepherd, pity, help, and succour thy poor little flock, according to thy word; lay the lambs in thy bosom, feed the hungry, bind up those that are wounded, and heal those that are rent and torn by the ravening wolves of the wood.

O! thou sweet Shepherd, open the door of mercy that they may find access to thy bleeding heart of love, that they may go in and out and find pasture, and a sanctuary in thee. For though the tabernacle of curtains in the wilderness, and the temple of stone at Jerusalem are demolished, thou wilt be unto them a little sanctuary wherever they are driven.

Dunmow, Essex.

A WATCHMAN ON THE WALLS.

DELIVERANCE SURE.

(Extract of a Letter.)

Dear Friend, I hope you will pardon the liberty I have taken in writing these few lines to you. Had I not felt something of the presence of my dear dying Saviour warm in my heart, I think I never should have attempted any such thing. But the dear Lord has been pleased to anoint my head again with the oil of joy and gladness, and sometimes to make my cup run over with blessings, so that I can say, "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever." And now, my dear fellowtraveller in the Lord Jesus Christ, I can say that my heart has gone out for you; therefore, I will drop a word to you, and say, "Fear not, poor soul, for the dear Almighty Lord has heard the sighs and groans that have gone out of thy poor broken heart, and in his own good time he will make himself known to you as your God and Father.” I now say, "Go to him naked and bare as you may feel yourself to be, and he will not cast you away;" for he has said in his holy Word, and that stands more sure than the earth, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Now, this is not only saying that he is able, but willing to give you rest. And, at another place it is said, "The Lord is our king, he will save us ;" and he is such a good and holy God that he never will nor can go from his word. But I know fears may sometimes arise in your heart, that you do not seek him aright. You know you are a poor, lost, helpless, and undone sinner, and that without him you must be lost for ever, and sink into the torments of the damned, where hope never can come.

Do