son to trust with it. It is well for us that it is not put into our hands at once, but by degrees, as we stand in need of it; it would not have been safe in our own keeping. It is well for us it was not put into the hands of Adam. It is well for us it was not put into the hands of angels. It is the will and pleasure of God that all grace should come to us through Christ. If God will commune with us, it must be from off the mercy-seat, Christ Jesus. If we have any fellowship with the Father, it must be with Him through the mediator. This One It is Sets forth the glory of Christ. considerable branch of Christ's glory, as mediator, lies in His being full of grace and truth; which souls, sensible of their own wants, behold with pleasure. this which makes Him fairer than the children of men, because grace, the fulness of it, is poured into His lips. It is this which makes Him appear to be white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand; and look so lovely, even altogether lovely, in the view of all that know Him. It is this which makes Him so exceeding precious to, and so highly valued and esteemed by, all them that believe. This instructs us where to go for a supply. The Egyptians, in the seven years of famine, when they cried to Pharaoh for bread, he having set Joseph over his store-houses, bids them go to him, saying, Go unto Joseph; what he saith to you do. Christ is by his Father made head over all things to the church. He is our anti-typical Joseph, who has our whole stock of grace in His hand : All the treasures of it are hid in Him; He has the entire disposal of it, and therefore to Him should we go for whatsoever we stand in need of. And this we may be sure of, that there is nothing we want but what is in Him; and nothing in Him suitable for us, but He will readily and freely communicate to by the grace of God in Christ, through Him and from Him, we are what we are; it is that which has made us to differ from another. We have nothing but what we have in a way of receiving, nothing but what we have received out of the fulness of Christ; and therefore we should not glory, as though we had not received it: but if any of us glory, let us glory in this; that Christ is of God made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption. PULPIT PIECES. ROMAINE. THERE is comfort in Christ for whatever you are mourning. Christ loves to be the confidant of the soul. When you do not consult Christ you blunder; when you do not lean on His arm you fall; and when you do not drink of his comforts, you drink poison. Christ is a treasury without locks or bars, and stands open night and day; He has gifts on purpose to bestow, and they are not meant to be laid by and rust. People are continually complaining to me of something in themselves; now everything in you should send you to Christ. Christ became one of us, that we may become one with God. Where Christ is no cross can hurt, there is nothing goes before Christ: He must introduce all the graces. It must be a supernatural force to keep our hearts within the vail; it requires no power short of God. When a person can attend an ordinance without any great inconvenience, and yet omits doing so, it is a very bad sign, and is like a man who, for some trifle, avoids his meals. If you have faith, God will put it into some hot fire, that you and others may see it is sterling faith. The more faith, the more deadness to sin. God generally puts faith to the trial in a way very disagreeable to flesh and blood. If one delusion will not do, the devil always has another ready. THE GREAT EXHIBITION. THE Saviour, crying by the spirit of prophecy, drew the hearts of His believing family towards that GREAT EXHIBITION, that ever-memorable spectacle, HIMSELF UPON THE CROSS! How sweet and acceptable the invitation to a Jew sensible of the absolute necessity of blood, far superior to that of bulls and goats, and truly precious is the same voice, still heard by many a groaning Gentile "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth; for I AM GOD, and there is none else." A scene like this-Emmanuel made sin for us- -groaning for guilt he had never incurred-suffering for sins he had never committed-crucified for crimes he had never known, is an exhibition of grace and truth-a complication of wonders, which no mind can fully compass, no tongue fully explain, and no heart fully enjoy. "Great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world." This is truly "THE GREAT EXHIBITION," in which nothing is wanted to display the glory of the LORD, comfort His children, and command the untiring admiration and the loudest bursts of applause from angels and men in glory. In comparison with this HOLY TEMPLE, which the Lord pitched-which He has built, all other fabrics are but cobwebs. In this the redeemed shall walk, clad in heavenly satin, while the shining garb shews the stamp of His cross-His handy work. Every part of the wondrous building of mercy, its covenant contrivances, so faithfully and curiously wrought in the lower part of the earth, shall be big with the richest displays of love and wisdom. Now the subjects of royal favour see but as through a glass darkly, yet is there now and then a gleam of glory begun, which lights their passions to a flame, as they feel and prove His love, who dwelt among us. He who is exalted far above all heavens, filling all places, appears at certain seasons and makes a GREAT EXHIBITION of Great Grace : How is this tree battered with stones, and loaded with sticks that have been thrown at it? Whilst those that grow about it being barren, or bearing harsher fruit, escape untouched! Surely, if its fruit had not been so good, its usage had not been so bad: and yet is it affirmed, that some trees, as the walnut, &c., bear the better for being thus bruised and battered. Even thus it fares in both respects with the best of men; the more holy, the more envied and persecuted; every one that passes by will have a fling at them. Methinks I see how devils and wicked men walk round about the people of God whom He hath enclosed in his arms of power, like so many boys about an orchard, whose lips water to throw at the fruit. But God turns all the stones of reproach into precious stones to his people; they bear the better for being thus battered. What open force or hidden charm NONE are transplanted into the paradise above, but from the nursery of grace below. THE LUMINARY OF GOD. KRUMMACHER. "He must increase, but I must decrease." In this exclamation of the Baptist is comprised the whole mystery of godliness. By nature we are great, and Jesus little; we are strong, and Jesus weak; we do not admit Jesus to be the only Saviour, to be the Alpha and the Omega. No, we think the power is in our hands, and not in His, and that the light is in our own reason, and not in THE LUMINARY OF GOD. Salvation is looked for in self-acquired merits, and not in the merits of the blood bridegroom. But unexpectedly a flash of divine radiance illumines our benighted heart, and the whole is at once changed. The strong one has on a sudden become weak, and he who was weak has become strong. The sun of righteousness expands his wings in increasing glory before us, and we, who shone so bright in the night of our understanding, grow dim, wane, and disappear with all the splendour of our excellencies, virtues, and powers. Wretched and destitute, we sink down in tears by the throne of grace, and, oh! what would we not give, if He, the exquisite, the incomparable Redeemer, would deign to refresh our parched lips and panting heart with but a single drop of grace, with but a single look of love. Now the sinner has decreased, and Jesus has increased in his sight. CERTAIN CROWNS. ROMAINE. THERE is full security given by the names and offices of the Trinity that believers shall be kept from falling away. The Father cannot be without his children. The glory of Jesus would fade away, if one of His redeemed was plucked out of his hand. The divine honours of the spirit of life would be eclipsed, if He prove to forsake his charge, and to suffer any of the redeemed to fall into hell. But these things cannot be. The will of the Father, Son, and Spirit, is the same concerning the salvation of the elect, which is as secure as covenant bonds and oaths can make it. THE CHOICE CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE OF MRS. ANNE BRINE. PREFACE. THE person whose experience is related in the following pages, was the youngest of three daughters of Mr. John Moore of Northampton, a minister of the Baptistdenomination, of eminent light, considerable learning, and great abilities. Mrs. Anne, in the bloom of life, had very advantageous offers made to her respecting matrimony; such as must have prevented her coming into that station she did, if her mind had not been proof against the enticements of affluence, ease, and pleasure, and prepared for such a situation in life, as she full well knew to be attended with great difficulties and discouragements. I shall always think myself much indebted to divine providence that it was so: and ever esteem it my honour that I was favoured with such a spouse, so long as she was permitted to enjoy breath. She was a person wise, humble, modest, tender, and of the strictest integrity. Her behaviour throughout life was an ornament to her profession. Great part of this narrative was writ with her own hand in the form wherein it is, and the other part of it is taken out of letters of her writing, which I have now by me. She had very great light in the gospel, and a sweet spiritual savour of it all her days, which will evidently appear to the reader, I doubt not, in the following account of her experience. The last sermon she heard was from these words: "Thou believeth that there is one God, thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble. But wilt thou know, O man, that faith without works is dead?" This sermon she thought a searching one, and because she did not find so much of the fruits of a divine faith in herself as she desired, was something discouraged. Upon which, as her manner was, she attended to holy meditation, and other religious duties, and received fresh satisfaction and comfort, and in that week discoursed with great freedom of spiritual things. On Saturday, I had conversation with her about some sublime truths of the gospel, through a particular occasion, (which it is needless to mention,) she expressed her wonder that some professors embrace them not, for that they are very comfortable. On Tuesday following, which was the 6th of August, 1745, after two days sharp pain, early in the morning, without a sigh, without a groan, she stretched, and soared away. That this account may be of use to souls, is the desire, Of thine to serve in the gospel, MRS. BRINE'S NARRATIVE. PERCEIVING that you are desirous to have an account of the dealings of God with my soul, and being willing to gratify you therein, I shall give you a few short hints thereof, though the badness of my memory, and the sense of things being too much wore off, will not admit me to give a particular relation, how I was carried on step by step. When I was young, I was very much taken with the vanities and follies of youth. My greatest concern was, that I was hindered by my parents of taking my full swing, in that in which I so much delighted; for they would sometimes be talking to me about the state of my immortal soul, and asking what I thought would become of me if I should die without an interest in Christ: but I, in a disregardful manner, used to turn my back upon them, and laugh at them; thinking myself as good as they, only I could not talk so finely about religious matters. For, I thought, I am not guilty of any very heinous sins, all that I desire is only to play and be merry, as most of my years are willing to do. What, I thought, would they have me mopish, and lay aside all pleasure thus soon; it will be time enough for me to betake myself to a melancholy life when I attain to their age; should I do it now, I shall be laughed at by all my companions. I heartily wished that my parents were like the parents of some of my play-fellows, that I might have the same liberty which they enjoyed. I accounted myself to be in a worse case than any body, because I was deprived some measure of the liberty I would have had. When I was at the meeting my thoughts were wholly employed about my vain delights and pleasures, instead of being attentive in hearing the word of God preached. Sabbaths were very burdensome to me, and I did, as often as I could, make excuses to stay at home, under pretence of illness. Thus I went on till I was near fifteen years of age, about which time it pleased God to awaken me, and bring me to consider what a state I was in. One night, being in my usual manner at play with my companions, and hearing them swear at a sad rate, and taking the Lord's name in vain in almost every sentence they spoke, having met with something that vexed them, which provoked them, as they said, so to do: This I thought was not right in them; though I myself had much ado to keep from bad expressions, thinking I looked foolish amongst them because I did not do as they did: but I was kept from it, though the temptation lay very hard upon me. This terrified me very much, not only for that, I was so much put to it to keep from bad words myself; but to think that I should delight in such wicked company, contrary to the mind of my parents, and certainly displeasing to God, against whom, thought I, I have sinned to a great degree. I went home that night with a sad and heavy heart, concluding that I should certainly be damned, and fully expected every night, when I went to bed, for about a fortnight, that I should never awake any more in this world, but should be in everlasting punishment before daylight appeared. I resolved to amend my life, and to pray to God for forgiveness of past sins. After this resolution was taken, my terror began to abate: and glad I was, thinking that God was pleased with me. But I soon began to break my resolutions; for no sooner was the terror I had felt a little over, but I had a hankering mind to return to my former pleasures. And Satan set in with this temptation very strongly, that I was too young to mind religion, and if I betook myself thereto, all pleasure would be at an end with me. And likewise these thoughts, were suggested to my mind, that the Lord was merciful, and so if I did but repent, and pray earnestly to Him to forgive my sins, when I should be past taking pleasure, in those things in which most of my years delighted, I need not fear acceptance with Him. After these thoughts, with many others, which I cannot now remember, had passed through my mind, I came to this conclusion, to go amongst my old companions once more; and accordingly when evening came, out I went to them. They seemed glad of my company, and told me they wondered at the change they perceived in my countenance towards them, and that they were afraid they had done, or said something displeasing to me, though they knew it not, but if it were so, they were very sorry, for they would not do any thing to anger me if they could help it. This speech of theirs knit my love to them, and made me resolve not to forsake them again whatever came by it; but before the night was spent, I was again seized with sad terror of conscience, so that I could not be brisk among my companions. I went home and betook myself to my former resolutions, not to offend God on this wise, and that I would read and pray, in order to merit his favour. For, I thought, I must not expect to find mercy any other way. With these promises I contented myself in a great measure, though I was not able to perform them. For no sooner than the pleasant evenings drew my companions together, but my mind was with them, and I allowed myself to go one night after another, thinking every time it should be the last, and I neglected reading and praying, with these thoughts, I will omit but this time, and go to my play-fellows but once more. Thus I went on for some time; but could not take that pleasure in vanity and folly as formerly I did. At last it pleased the Lord to work such strange convictions in me, as I hope ended in saving conversion. One day these thoughts darted into my mind, that it was as likely I might die that day, as live to another, and then what good would all my resolutions to reform do me, since I was never found in the practice of known duties. These thoughts set me all in a tremble, and I concluded myself to be in a miserable condition, for that I was deeply guilty of sins of omission and commission, and that too, after I had been called to forsake them, and therefore they could no longer be termed sins of ignorance. So I began to conclude the day of grace was now past, for I did not hearken to God's voice when he called; and, therefore, he would now turn a deaf ear unto me. Then were my sins, as it were, set in order before me. Things that I had done in my childhood, which had been long forgotten by me, came fresh to my remembrance: upon which I thought that I was undone to eternity. At the same time was made sensible of my incapacity to do any thing that is good. I saw there was a want of power, as well as of will in me. About this time my father preached from these words: Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are his, and let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity. From these words he took occasion to talk of election, and of God's fore-knowledge from eternity. Well, I thought, is it so, that the Lord did, before this choice, well know what rebels we should prove; then I may be well assured that I shall be damned, for he would not fix his love unalterably upon so vile, and so sinful a creature as I am. When my father came to speak from the latter part of the text, he spoke how it was the duty of believers to be pressing after holiness. This made me begin to think of working for life again, though I doubt not, but my dear father made a distinction between working for life, and from life; but so ignorant was I, that I could not take it in aright. So I attempted to pray, and in so doing, found something of a secret hope that the Lord would pardon my sins, though they were very great, if I could but keep to this duty: but the Lord did not suffer me long to rest here. For that scripture came into my mind: Not by works of righteousness which we have done; but of his mercy hath he saved 1s. And these words followed: Not of |