selves the solemn question, "For what purpose have I come out of the world into the church, and have I answered, and am I answering that purpose? Am I a living martyr and faithful witness for Christ? making him known and causing him to be loved? Am I an index to the cross, a waymark to heaven? Do I bear the image of Christ, and show the world for what purpose he came into the world, and died upon Calvary? Am I a useful addition to the church, increasing not only its bulk, but its strength, its beauty, and its health!-giving it visibility, not only as an ecclesiastical corporation of nominal Christians, but as the receptacle of heavenly communications, the vestibule of the celestial temple, yea, the tabernacle of God with man, and having the glory of Jehovah? Have I added any thing to its spiritual excellence, and its moral power? Or have I been a mere appendage, a lifeless adjunct, a useless addition, and more of an incumbrance than a help to its utility? As regards myself, what benefit have I derived from my profession? I have obtained a public right to church privileges; have taken my seat at the table of the Lord, and appropriated to myself my share of the blessings of fellowship and the prayers of the brethren. What am I the holier and happier for these things? Have I grown in grace, and found the communion of saints to aid me in a preparation for the fellowship of the blessed in heaven? Have I found that my profession has indeed proved a bond upon my constancy, and made me watchful, circumspect, and cautious? Has it separated me from the world, and kept me separate in association, spirit, and conduct? I have had the watchful eye of my pastor upon me, and have received his admonitions publicly and privately, and am I the better for this, and a comfort to his heart? As respects the

world, what good has it derived from me? Has the end of my profession been accomplished in reference to the unconverted part of mankind? What have they seen in me calculated to subdue their prejudices against religion, and to conciliate their affection to it? Have I shown them the light of truth, the beauty of holiness, and the power of love? Like a lesser magnet touched by the mighty loadstone of Mount Calvary, have I drawn men to Christ? Are there any who in looking to me, will say, there is the instrument of my conversion?"

Such interrogatories as these ought to be pressed home by every professor on his conscience at seasons, and such should frequently occur, of solemn examination into the state of the soul.

It may be, that some will read these pages who have not yet publicly professed faith in Christ, although they have reason to hope that they possess it? But why not profess it? Have you considered our Lord's demand, Mark viii. 37; or the apostle's declaration, Rom. x. 8? Sit down and study those passages-ponder them well-apply them to your own case: and will you any longer believe secretly, when required to profess publicly? "I am startled," you say, "at the vast comprehension of a profession." True, it is vast: but it is demanded of you : yes, both the possession and profession. "I am afraid I shall disgrace my profession if I make it, as many have already done." True, they have: millions of souls have been helped on to perdition by the misconduct of nominal Christians: and you ought to tremble at the idea of adding to the number: but God's grace is sufficient for you. The way of duty is the way of safety, and none are so likely to be kept from falling as they who enter on their course with a holy fear of falling. Besides,

are you not dishonouring God by making no profession, and are thus guilty of the inconsistency of actually doing wrong lest you should do it?" But I can go to heaven without making a profession." How do you know that? Perhaps not. It may be necessary for you, although some others may have reached the heavenly shore without it. It is not for us to say of any obvious duty, "I can go to heaven without it." Not that I mean to insinuate justification is by works; or, that absolute perfection is essential to salvation-but what I mean is this; God requires obedience in all cases of known duty, and where we make exceptions, he may be so displeased as to give us up to ourselves, and leave us to turn back again to the world. But if I make a profession I shall displease my friends."

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Whoever will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel's, the same shall save it. For what shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul, or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? Whosoever, therefore, shall be ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him also shall the Son of Man be ashamed when he cometh in the glory of his Father, and with his holy angels."—Mark. viii. 34-38. This is unbending, awful language. What is the favour or displeasure of friends to this? Is there aught in the fear or frown of any mortal under heaven, that should deter us from our duty in the view of such a peril as this?

But my parents or my husband do not make a profession, nor are they fit for it, and they would not like me to join the church without them, and I should scarcely like it myself." If they will not

go to heaven, should that allow you to reject any of the means that help you thither? If they will not honour Christ, should that hinder you from doing it? Will you disobey the Saviour out of compliment to any earthly friend whatever? It is your duty, your solemn duty; and is it better to please men or God? Perhaps your decision in this matter may be blessed to them. If not, you are to do what is right without considering consequences.

Abandon excuses and objections then, and confess with the mouth, even as God has given you grace to believe with the heart.

CHAPTER III.

THE DANGERS OF SELF-DECEPTION.

THE professors of Christianity may be divided into three classes, the sincere, the hypocritical, and the self-deceived. Of the second class there are very few. I have rarely met with them. It is not often that any one attains to such a pitch of audacious and disgusting wickedness, as to make, for some sinister purpose, a profession, which, at the time, he knows to be false. But, while there are few that are intentionally deceiving others, there are very many who are, unconsciously, deceiving themselves. Alarming consideration! To be self-deceived in a matter of such tremendous importance as the salvation of the immortal soul! To suppose that we are justified before God, while we are under the condemnation of his righteous law; that we are truly regenerated, while we are still in an unconverted state; that we are the children of God, while we are the children of the devil; and that we are travelling to heaven, while each day, as it passes, leaves us nearer to the bottomless pit! The very possibility of such a case should rouse our lukewarm souls, excite all our fears, and put us upon the most cautious and diligent examination.

PROFESSION IS NOT POSSESSION.

This common, hackneyed, yea true and impressive sentiment, is thus put out by itself, in bold and promi