XVI. Would ye see this deep precept put in practice? Consider St. Paul. Already possessed of christian perfection, he does good works from morning till night: he warns every one night and day with tears. He carries the gospel from East to West. Wherever he stops, he plants a church at the hazard of his life. But instead of resting in his present perfection, and in the good works which spring from it, he "grows in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ; unweariedly following after, if that he may apprehend that [perfection] for which also he is apprehended of Christ Jesus," that celestial perfection, of which he got lively ideas, when he was "caught up to the third heaven and heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter" With what amazing ardour does he run his race of christian perfection for the prize of that higher perfection! How does he forget the works of yesterday, when he lays himself out for God to day! Though dead, he yet speaketh," nor can an address to perfect christians be closed by a more proper speech than this. "Brethren" says he, "be followers of me-I count not myself to have apprehended [my angelical perfection:] but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind [settling in none of my former experiences, resting in none of my good works] and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press towards the mark, for the [celestial] prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as are perfect, be thus minded: and if in any thing ye be otherwise minded, God shall reveal even this unto you." In the mean time you may sing the following hymn of the Rev. Mr. Charles Wesley, which is descriptive of the destruction of corrupt self-will, and expressive of the absolute resignation which characterises a perfect believer.

66

To do, or not to do; to have,

Or not to have, I leave to Thee:
To be, or not to be, I leave:

Thy only will be done in me:
All my requests are lost in one,
Father, thy only will be done.

Suffice that, for the season past,

Myself, in things divine I sought,
For comforts cried with eager haste,
And murmur'd that I found them not:
I leave it now to thee alone,
Father, thy only will be done.

Thy gifts I clamour for no more,
Ör selfishly thy grace require,
An evil heart to varnish o'er ;
Jesus, the Giver, I desire;
After the flesh no longer known:
Father, thy only will be done.

Welcome alike the crown or cross:
Trouble I cannot ask, nor peace,
Nor toil, nor rest, nor gain, nor loss,
Nor joy, nor grief, nor pain, nor ease
Nor life, nor death: but ever groan,
Father, thy only will be done.

This hymn suits all the believers who are at the bottom of Mount Sion, and begin to join the spirits of just men made perfect. But when the triumphal chariot of perfect love graciously carries you to the top of perfection's hill ;-when you are raised far above the common heights of the perfect-when you are almost translated into glory like Elijah, then you may sing another hymn of the same christian poet, with the Rev. Mr. Madan, and the numerous body of imperfectionists who use his collection of Psalms, &c.

Who in Jesus confide,

They are bold to out-ride

The storms of affliction beneath.
With the prophet they soar
To that heavenly shore,

And out-fly all the arrows of death.

By faith we are come

To our permanent home;
By hope we the rapture improve;
By love we still rise,

And look down on the skies-
For the heaven of heavens is love!

Who on earth can conceive
How happy we live

In the city of God the great King!
What a concert of praise,

When our Jesus's grace

The whole heavenly company sing!

What a rapturous song,
When the glorify'd throng
In the spirit of harmony join!
Join all the glad choirs,
Hearts, voices, and lyres,

And the burden is mercy divine!

But when you cannot follow Mr. Madan, and the imperfectionists of the Lock-chapel, to those rapturous heights of perfection, you need not give up your shield. You may still rank among the perfect, if you can heartily join in this version of Psalm cxxxi.

VOL. II.

Lord, thou dost thy grace impart !

Poor in spirit, meek in heart,

I will as my Master be

Rooted in humility.

Now, dear Lord, that thee I know,

Nothing will I seck below,

Aim at nothing great or high,

Lowly both in heart and eye.

Simple, teachable, and mild,
Aw'd into a little child,
Quiet now without my food,
Wean'd from every creature good.
2 A

Hangs my new-born soul on thee,
Kept from all idolatry ;

Nothing wants beneath, above
Resting in thy perfect love.

That your earthen vessels may be filled with this love till they break, and you enjoy the divine object of your faith without an interposing veil of gross flesh and blood, is the wish of one who sincerely praises God on your account, and ardently prays,

"Make up thy jewels, Lord, and show
The glorious spotless church below:
The fellowship of saints make known;
And Oh! my God, might I be one!

O might my lot be cast with these,
The least of Jesu's witnesses!
O that my Lord would count me meet
To wash his dear disciples' feet!

To wait upon his saints below!
On gospel-errands for them go!
Enjoy the grace to angels given !
And serve the royal heirs of heaven !”

THE REV. MR. TOPLADY'S "SCHEME OF CHRISTIAN AND PHILOSOPHICAL NECESSITY."

Beware lest

any man spoil you through Philosophy and vain Deceit Col. li. 8.