experience, that seem, at times, the elements of a very different agency, the march of an absolutely contrasted and opposite progression? Undoubtedly this progress from glory to glory is often a thing unknown in present experience, though actually going on by the grace of God. There may be present experience that looks like despair, which shall be but the necessary step to the next degree of glory; there may be great extremes by God's discipline, which are not fitful extremes by human passion. David passed through such extremes, now in the heights, now in the depths, now apparently almost in heaven, now in hell. Sometimes his soul sits and sings, like a bird lighting from the clear air upon the topmost leafy bough of a tree, fresh with the dew of the morning; sometimes he seems not only to desire, but really to possess, wings like a dove to fly away and be at rest. Then again he chatters like a crane or a swallow; he is like an owl of the desert, like a pelican of the wilderness. Sometimes his heart rejoices in God like a water-brook; again it is like a dry, crinkling, leathern bottle in the smoke. Sometimes his soul cleaveth unto the dust, and then again starts forward like an arrow, and rises like an eagle. Sometimes his bones are burned as an hearth, and his heart is smitten and withered like grass and then again he rises to heaven like a bright flame, or his soul is as Mount Zion that cannot be removed, but abideth for ever.

Compare the 88th Psalm with the 118th or 104th, and see if you could possibly recognise them as records of the same soul's experience. In one view you will say no; in another, yes; because the tenor of the one Psalm in the depths, just implies and prepares the way for the other on the heights; and those changes are inevitable to deep feeling, changes from despondency to exultation, from despair to triumph, from darkness to light. The same deep and strong feeling in view of one's own guilt, shut up to that, will be like an envelopment in the fire and smoke of the bottomless pit; when in view of God's glorious attributes and of Christ's preciousness, loveliness, and mercy, it will be like an embathing in the flood of melody and light from the open gates of heaven. But these inequalities and extremes may take place under the same degree of grace and strength and glory in the soul These changes may be changes of God's discipline for the promotion of his grace. They may be like the changes of rain and storm and dry weather and sunshine upon the same green blade, which under all is steadily ripening into the ear, but which, if it were a sensitive intelligence, like man's soul, might suppose that all these changes were within itself, parts of its own life, instead of the discipline of God for the growth of that life. They may also be changes, that depend more upon natural temperament than grace; changes of God's discipline to bring nature

under grace. Many of the changes in a character like Dr. Payson's we shall find to be changes of natural temperament under the discipline of grace, or of divine providence for the production of grace; while again the changes in a character, like that of President Edwards, are more directly, immediately, and serenely changes of and by grace.

Variety in natural temperament calls for variety in God's discipline, and makes variety in the development and appearance of grace. Some souls are so like crystal, or clear glass, that the light of heaven, the light of grace, seems to shine through them in its own serene purity unchanged. Others are like a prism, or window of stained glass, where the light comes through particular fancies and tendencies of character, and with colours more human than divine. And yet, the last display may seem the most splendid and imposing, the work of the greatest labour, disclosing more of the divine glory; whereas, the first gives the most direct, simple, unerring view of God and his grace. You see through the first more of the very light of heaven, through the last a mixture of human temperaments and sympathies. Change in the last may be more manifest than in the first, and growth in grace may be more perceptible, just because there was more of the merely human that needed to be removed; and as that is taken away, and the divine supplies its place, the change is more notice

able. The change from sin to holiness may be regarded as more wonderful than the change from glory to glory; but it is not more beautiful. Grace changes by degrees, and degrees only from good to better, from less to greater. Nature, under the discipline of grace, changes in quality, from bad to good, from sin to holiness, from self to God.

On this subject, the remarks of President Edwards, in his work on Revivals of Religion, as well as in the book of Religious Affections, are exceedingly instructive and valuable. His section on the experiences of Christians is full of profound wisdom; the passages on defective experiences, on the degenerating of experiences, and also on the mixture of evil in the best experiences, should be read with care and self-examination. They strike at the root of all imaginary perfection, and put the soul on its guard against giving advantage to the devil through ignorance of his devices.

The testimony of a man like Edwards, on the question of spiritual perfection in this world, is of so much the greater importance, because it was not given in argument on a point, not proposed for the establishing of an opinion, not controversial in any way, but rather incidental, in the simple outpouring of the treasures of experiences, observation, and the knowledge of the Word of God. "Indeed," says Edwards, "it is not to supposed that Christians ever have any experiences in

this world, that are wholly pure, entirely spiritual, without any mixture of what is natural and carnal. The beam of light, as it comes from the fountain of light upon our hearts, is pure, but as it is reflected thence it is mixed; the seed as sent from heaven and planted in the heart is pure, but as it springs up out of the heart, is impure; yea, there is commonly a much greater mixture than persons for the most part seem to have any imagination of. I have often thought that the experiences of true Christians are very frequently as it is with some kinds of fruits that are enveloped with several coverings of thick shells or pods, which are thrown away by him that gathers the fruit, and but a very small part of the whole bulk is the pure kernel, that is good to eat.”

This is an admirable illustration, the more so, because it is so humbling to the pride of our nature; it is as true as it is beautiful. The change in this world, we have reason to believe, is always imperfect, never complete; and yet, even in its most imperfect commencement, how glorious, how blessed! How blessed to be thus beneath the forming hand of God our Saviour! How happy is a Christian, whom God is leading onward and upward to glory, under all this experience! We care not what at present may be the phase of this experience. The Christian may seem to be brought by it to the very gates of hell; yet even there, or groping his