ILLUSTRATIONS OF FAITH. DIFFICULTY OF BELIEVING DIVINE TRUTH-CAUSE OF- THE preceding papers have paved the way for the important subject of the present. The simple act of the mind in believing occasions no difficulty, when disentangled from the crude mass of metaphysics, in which it might be said to have been wrapt up and hidden. The difficulty lies in the nature of the things which divine Revelation requires us to believe. Things which we are naturally inclined to wish to be true, we find great facility in believing to be so. They may be absurd beyond utterance; but if they flatter human pride, or gratify human passions, or pander to "the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of the eye, or the pride of life," they will be readily admitted to be true; and there will be little scrutiny exercised into the kind and the qualities of the evidence on which their credibility rests. But if the things proposed to our faith be directly opposed to all these propensities of our corrupt nature, all becomes instant hostility. It matters not what be the evidence of their truth. The basis on which it rests may be strong as adamant, and the evidence itself may consist of proofs various in kind and manifold in number; and they may have been accumulating for many ages; and the irresistibility of their strength increasingly manifested by every renewed assault made upon them; still it matters not there are a few short and simple ways of evading it all. Men can shut their eyes upon it. It may be urged with particularity and power, and all that is necessary is just not to attend to it. Thus men can keep themselves in perfect ignorance of the truth, and the evidence on which it rests, while they can readily "believe a lie" when they "have pleasure in unrighteousness." The historical facts already adduced leave nothing farther to be said in illustration or confirmation of these melancholy truths. And yet we may be hardly prepared for the confession of the celebrated infidel, David Hume, who wrote so much against VOL. II. PRICE 1d. Christianity. He once owned that "he had never read the New Testament with care." But let me now ask, whether any professing Christian,whether the reader of these lines must make the same confession to his own heart? Some may think it unnecessary to have been so particular in proving and illustrating the difficulty of believing truths that are opposed to all the corrupt propensities of our nature. But if, by the blessing of God, the conviction of this fact has taken place in the hearts of my readers, no labour can be too much that issues in so valuable a result. It will naturally lead to self-examination, and self-knowledge, and self-suspicion, and distrust of that which is "deceitful above all things," the human heart; and so prepare the man for that work of the Spirit, by which alone we can "receive the truth in the love of it." and become "wise unto salvation." Let us now go on to mark what the blessed Word of God itself says as to the difficulty men have in believing it, and the cause of that difficulty. Weigh attentively the following words: "The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned." 1 Cor. ii. 14. Along with this take the words of the same apostle to the Romans: (Rom. viii. 7.) "The carnal mind is enmity against God; for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be," so long as it continues carnal. "The natural," or "carnal man,” that is, every man in a natural state, and till he has become spiritual, transformed by the renewing of his mind, "receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God," the truths of God inspired by his Spirit,-" for they are foolishness unto him;" they run counter to all his feelings, affections, principles, pursuits, and maxims of worldly wis dom, and whatever does so, he regards as foolishness. But what is the reason of this decision? Is it that he is a competent, unbiassed, and righteous judge, pronouncing his decision, uninfluenced by fear or favour, sternly adhering to clear and unimpeachable truth, be the consequences what they may? Far otherwise: He does not even know, and is incapable, in present circumstances, of at all comprehending, the things on which he delivers his unhesitating and most unrighteous judgment. The reason is, that he is devoid of the essential quality requisite in one capable of judging of these things: he is "carnally minded;" and these things can be understood only by one that is spiritually minded: "they are spiritually discerned;" and can be comprehended only by one that has been taught, and is under the continual teaching of the Spirit of God. 66 flesh and blood" orly, or remaining corruption, but against its powerful and seductive allies,against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." Eph. vi. 12. Hence the mighty, and irresistible, and unceasing agency necessary to bring every thought into subjection to the obedience of Christ." Hence we are called to "work out our own salvation Before a man can understand, believe, and re- with fear and trembling;" not because we are ceive these things, then, he must become " able of ourselves to do it, but because help to our creature." He must, as it were, be made over utmost need is afforded us : "For it is God that again. And "if any man be in Christ, he is a worketh in you both to will and to do of his good new creature: old things are passed away; be-pleasure." May we not truly say with the hold, all things are become new." And who cantle, then, " By grace are ye saved through faith; do this, but "He who at first commanded the and that (faith) not of yourselves; it is the gift light to shine out of darkness, by shining in our of God." Eph. i. 8. hearts, and so giving us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ ?" 66 a new apos But is not this "working and doing" in us "altogether of grace," is not this making us, after all, mere machines? In some measure it may be so, inasmuch as you had made yourselves by sin, yet more brutalised than brute matter itself. This is But this being done by Him who alone can do it, are the difficulties of believing divine truth at length all conquered?-Regeneration, or a "trans-just the stepping forth of old satanic pride, the formation by the renewing of the mind," has indeed taken place; and the salvation of the soul is secure, because "whom the Lord loveth, he loveth unto the end." But instead of the warfare being over, it is only now begun; for till now the man was utterly incapable of fighting the battles of the Lord; and the battles we have more immediately in view, at present, are those he has to wage with the remaining corruptions of his fallen nature. Let it be here remarked, that while justification and adoption are acts of God's free grace, passed and over in a moment of sovereign mercy, sanctification is a work, consisting of innumerable acts, beginning with conversion, and ending only with the last breath of the human being, when the all-important transition takes place from time to eternity. During all this time the work of sanctification, or making holy, is carried on by the Spirit of God. It is progressive from its commencement till the believer's final day on earth, but it is not till the soul has reached the realms of glory that the work is consummated, or made perfect. In the mean time, there is a training, by moral discipline, carried on to make the soul "meet for the inheritance of the saints in light;" and while the whole is the work of God's Spirit, in concurrence with the human will and affections, which have been moulded and fashioned anew after the image of God, the work is very different from a mechanical operation on brute matter. There is still a remainder of imperfection and carnal nature. Paul, speaking of it, says, "I see another law (from that of the law of God, in which he delighted) in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin, which is in my members." Rom. vii. 23. Hence the struggles, or rather the "fighting the good fight of faith, and laying hold of eternal life." For "we wrestle not against going forth of the pride that cast Satan out of heaven, and Adam out of Paradise, and the principle that prompts men now to go about "to establish a righteousness of their own," instead of leading them to "submit to the righteousness of God by faith." And what saith the Scripture? "Hath not the potter power over the clay, to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?" And who is it that can make a single one of them unto honour? By grace," and not by merit, more or less, "are ye saved." Well, but as to the machine, and the folly connected with the idea. The machine was originally constructed in the most admirable manner, and every pulley, and pivot, and spring, adjusted in a way that admitted of no improvement, and it was put in motion by the master hand that made it; and its movements were such that He whose work it was pronounced it to be "all very good.” But after a time, Satan, the rebellious outcast of hea ven, in despite of the glorious work, and of Him that made it, set his mighty ingenuity of malice to the task of destroying the fair fabric. He brought with him sin, his right hand agent, who broke the mainspring, and so put the whole beautiful structure in disorder, every part acting in countervailing power against another. In this fearful ruin of the beautiful mechanisin, which was "all very good," the mighty Maker again puts forth his irresistible power to restore the work of his own hand, which that ruined work could certainly never do for itself. This is salvation by grace through faith," the only way in which salvation could ever be accomplished. If the idea of mechanism, however, is to be admitted, for the sake of illustration, we are to remember that it is a moral and intellectual me chanism. The powers that by sin were perverted, and exercised with objects the very opposite of those for which they were formed, are put to rights again. The enmity of the carnal mind is taken away, We and is replaced by the love of God. Then | bling truths of the Gospel, by reference to the men are made willing in the day of the exercise various "refuges of lies," to which the awakened of God's power. The slave of Satan is made free soul has recourse before settling down in the from the law of sin, and becomes the servant of humble and firm belief of Gospel truth. God, and has his fruit unto holiness, and the end might notice the attempts made to seek peace by life everlasting. The man is "sanctified by the keeping the law, then by faith as meritorious, and truth," as the instrument employed by the Spirit, coming in place of obedience, and by various other and his eyes are opened, and he "sees light," and devices of men in "going about to establish a the glorious objects it makes manifest "in God's righteousness of their own." All these would tend light." He discovers at once, with horror, and still more largely to establish what, it is hoped, with transport, his former and his present state. has been abundantly proved, that men are "saved He now perceives that in his natural state he had by grace through faith, and that (faith) is not of been as the maniac in his cell, in the midst of themselves, it is the gift of God," and the work delirium and delusion, wielding his sceptre of straw, of his Spirit. and imagining himself a monarch. He is now "come to himself;" and he distinctly sees that his former imagined freedom was the most abject and degrading slavery. But the chain is broken off, the prison door is opened, the captive is liberated; and from his dark and dank dungeon he walks forth breathing the balmy air of heaven, with a world of unutterable beauties before him, brightly illuminated by the Sun of Righteous ness. But still there is, and while on earth there will continue to be, more or less, of remaining corruption, against which he will have to struggle, without finding that he is always successful. Hence, he is frequently found mourning over his deficiency in faith, and love, and new obedience. And, what some will think remarkable, is, that just in proportion to his attainments in these qualities of the new creature," will be his quick-sightedness to sin. He will see it where, perhaps, at the beginning of his Christian course he did not see it at all; and what was then dim, and scarcely perceptible, now stands forth in most hideous and revolting characters. This is the natural effect of increasing light. Thus it is that we are to understand the language of Paul, when he had made singular attainments in the divine life, "Owretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" But he is enabled to add, "I thank God, through our Lord Jesus Christ." Rom. vii. 24, 25. Before concluding this paper, we must make one remark as to the difficulty of believing the things proposed to the Christian's faith. What What is its origin? The difficulty originates in the difficulty of loving the things; for it is to love holiness and purity; it is to think, and speak, and act in every thing, little or great, with a single view to please God, and to find our happiness in so pleasing him. It is to live habitually as under his eye, seeing him who is invisible;" and performing every relative duty, from the most just and generous principles, "loving our neighbour as ourselves."" Now this is found to be difficult, because, while on earth, we are at the best sanctified but in part, and so retain a remainder more or less of earthliness and selfishness. 66 We might here introduce illustrations of the difficulty of believing the pure, simple, and hum These things being so, the all-engrossing question with the humble inquirer will naturally be, how he is to obtain the effectual working of that divine agent? And we cannot suppose any thing more satisfactory and gratifying to such a mind than the following answer from the lips of the blessed Jesus himself: "If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?" Luke xi. 13. A SHORT SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF ROBERT AITKIN, A MARYFORT COLLIER BY THE REV. W. S. BLACKWOOD, Minister of the Scotch Church, Maryport, Cumberland. ROBERT AITKIN was, I believe, a Scotsman by birth, and his family has long been connected with my congregation. He was a collier by profession, and an elder of the Church. When settled here about three years ago, I was given to understand that he was a man of remarkable piety, and my subsequent acquaintance with him fully justified the highest expectations I had form ed of his character. His circumstances, indeed, were humble, and had, nothing to attract the world's regard. His occupation was mean, and doomed him to a life of the severest drudgery; but this only served to give an additional lustre to his virtues, and stood more strongly contrasted with the dignity and the elevation of his moral character. Doomed, however, though he was to a life of comparative poverty and trial, he was so far from indulging any murmuring feeling, that he has expressed to me his entire satisfaction with what was the most adverse to his comfort, because it originated in the appointment of heaven. He rose about three o'clock every morning, and walked to the distance of about three miles, in all weathers, to the pit in which he laboured. On my once remarking to him, that it was hard to travel so far in a cold winter morning at so early an hour, he replied, "Cold, and frost, and snow, are all God's messengers, and as such I receive them." He rose, however, still earlier than his occupation demanded, that he might have some time to spend in communion with God; and he made a practice of reading a portion, however small, of the sacred volume before he set out to the labours of the day. Fatiguing as were his week day occupations, he was not only regular in his attendance on the sanctuary, but he searched out cases of distress, and at almost every sickbed was he present, addressing to the afflicted the words of consolation, and offering up the prayer of faith. He was blessed with a remarkable fluency in the discharge of this latter duty; and so engrossed was his mind in its performance, that though he had a de fect in his organs of speech, he never in prayer faltered in his utterance. Every one was struck with admiration at the fervour and the readiness with which he poured out his requests at a throne of grace, and listened to him with eager and delighted attention. He was very zealous for the glory of the Lord of Hosts; and to hear his name profaned was to him the most painful and revolting. Gentle as was his charac ter, he was wont, on such occasions, to rebuke the transgressor; and where this proved ineffectual, as he once observed to me, he lifted up his heart in prayer to God on their behalf. He bore about with him a constant sense of his mortality. He often remarked, that men of his profession were exposed to great dangers, and that many around him had received "sudden calls." He, therefore, felt the necessity of being ready and prepared to meet his God in judgment. But if his piety was thus remarkable, his humility was not less so. This, indeed, was the most prominent and leading feature of his character. Often has he bewailed to me the corruption of his heart, and his feeble impression of the things of eternity. His language was that of the apostle, O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death!" He delighted to converse on the subject of religion, and whenever another topic was started in his hearing, he invariably connected it with his favourite theme by deducing from it some lesson of heavenly wisdom. In the history of a collier there can be no variety of incident. But I am desirous of placing before the minds of the readers of this work a man who moved in the humblest walk of life, and whose piety surpassed in fervour and elevation what I have ever been privileged to witness. We often meet with characters of imperfect goodness, men of decided piety indeed, but the purity of whose moral worth is sullied by some evident failing which attaches to them. In the case of Robert Aitkin, however, I am not aware that any such defect shaded the lustre of his virtues. His was a character of uniform excellence, complete, to all human observation, in all its parts, and bearing as near a resemblance as, perhaps, in the present state it is pos sible to reach, to that of the Saviour of sinners himself. He was an Israelite indeed, in whom there was no guile, a man who might be truly said "to walk with God." His heart seemed to be almost wholly detached from the interests of this sublunary scene, and to be set on those higher interests which engage the affections and the thoughts of the heavenly inhabitants. There are seasons in the history of every Christian when his piety rises above its ordinary level, and draws out his affections to open, lively, and vigorous exercise, but his eye seemed to be ever set on the glories of eternity, and to cast merely a glance on the scenes which were passing around him. Devotion was the very element of his being, and even when not engaged in its outward exercises, he breathed its warnest spirit. It was evident to every one that he bore about with him a constant sense of the divine presence, an awful impression of the importance of eternal things, and that his thoughts never dwelt on the present, without connecting it with the future. Time was identified, in his regard, with eternity, and he seemed to live here with the single aim of preparing to live hereafter. When attired in the coarse and filthy habiliments of his profession, it was difficult for any one, who had a respect to moral worth, to suppress a smile at the strong contrast presented between the moral dignity of the man and his dark and tattered exterior. But if high moral excellence constitutes the chiet ornament of our nature, and is what should occupy the foremost place in human estimation, humble individual as he was, it may be truly said of him what was said of Abner of old, "Know ye not that a great man has this day fallen in Israel?" His natural talents were not of a distinguished or der, but he was a man of a sound and solid understand. ing. He evinced, however, an uncommon sagacity in all matters of a religious nature, and was quite compe tent to give a reason of the hope that was in him." He was mighty in the Scriptures," and had his mind fully fraught with the treasures of heavenly wisdom. I have been amazed at the shrewdness of argumentation he has displayed in maintaining the doctrines of our orthodox faith, and how prepared he was to expose the false principles which lie at the foundation of every heterodox creed. But he was regular in his attend. ance on public ordinances, and whatever spare time he could command, he spent in the perusal of useful and interesting works of a religious kind. He had thus amassed a considerable store of information, and exhibited a cultivation of intellect much beyond what could have been expected in one of his humble circumstances in life. He was master of many of the most remark. able sayings of ancient theological writers, and could advance them on any suitable occasion with great tact and propriety. "Willison's Afflicted Man's Companion" was one of his favourite authors, and the dying experience of the eminent saints there recorded was the subject of our frequent conversation. One evening of last month (October) I received the distressing intelligence that Robert had received a severe injury, by the fall of a large piece of coal, or something of that kind, from the mouth of the pit. I took an early opportunity of paying him a visit, though at that time I entertained no apprehension that his wound would terminate in a fatal result. I found him completely resigned to the will of God, and breathing, as he ever did, a spirit of exalted piety. His strength, however, progressively failed, till it became too evident that death was in the cup. On visiting him on a subsequent occasion, I asked him if his mind was in peace, he replied" that it was in perfect peace." He spoke as if his feelings varied, and on my saying to him that "the rock of ages was always the same," he mentioned that that morning, as he was indulging in holy meditation, "his prospects were peculiarly bright and clear before him." He adverted to the delight which that passage afforded him, "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne, shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." I visited him the evening of the day before he died. I cannot forget the cordiality with which he welcomed me when nature was well-nigh exhausted, and the effort which he made to speak to me much beyond the measure of his remaining strength. But the hand of death was upon him, and he instantly relapsed, after a fit of coughing, which the exertion induced, into his former state of stupor and repose. He died the following evening. Though there was no sunshine of elevated feeling to gild the gloom of the dark valley, or to cheer the hour of his departure, of him it may be truly said, "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace!" Robert Aitkin was regarded in this place with feelings of universal respect, as a man of eminent piety and true benevolence. He was no less highly esteemed by his employers. He wrought at a higher rate of wages than were given to the other colliers, who were en gaged in the same kind of labour with himself. This was in consequence of his untiring industry in the prosecution of his calling, and the moral influence which he exerted over the habits of the men. His employers, indeed, remarked that "they considered it quite a blessing to have such a man in their pit;" and I can bear testimony to the kindness which they manifested towards him during his last illness, both by their per sonal attentions, and by the offer of pecuniary aid. Indeed the strongest and most cordial sympathy was evinced for Robert by his numerous acquaintances during the period of his sickness, nor were they wanting in the last tribute of their respect for his eminent virtues. It is customary in this place to summon all the friends and acquaintances of the deceased to the funeral by means of a bell sent round the town, and a service is performed at the chapel in whose burial ground they are interred, similar to those of the Sabbath. Robert was buried on Sabbath the 5th of November, and his remains were accompanied to the grave by a vast throng of mourning relatives and friends. On the evening of that day I preached his funeral sermon, in my place of worship, to an overflowing audience, from Psalm xxiii. 4th verse; "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.' One feeling seemed to pervade the assembly-that of warm admiration of the virtues of the departed, and deep regret at his removal. The following sentiments expressed in the concluding paragraph of my discourse, were, I am sure, responded to in the mournful consciousness of every devout mind amongst my people : But what shall we do, who are united as a congregation, on the removal of so pious and heavenly a man? Who will now bear us on his heart at a throne of grace? Who will intercede with God on our behalf, that we who minister the words of life may have grace given to be faithful to our solemn duties, and that you may hear with a divine power? If the glory is not this day departed from us, it is at least obscured; a man of prayer has been taken from us, and may not the blessing and favour of heaven be withdrawn along with him? He has left us faint' indeed, with hearts cold to God and to eternity, but we hope, still pursuing;' and if we improve the present painful dispensation, we will make it now our study to walk with God, to run with diligence the race set before us in the Gospel, and thus to tread in the footsteps of the departed. His whole heart was set on the accomplishment of his own salvation, and on the spiritual good of his fellow men, and sure I am that he never bowed the knee at the throne of grace, without supplicating the blessing of heaven to descend both on myself and you. Let us ever remember that a man of prayer has this day been cut down in the midst of us,--that we are thus solemnly reminded of the duty of interceding with greater frequency and earnestness for ourselves, otherwise the melancholy spectacle may, ere long, be presented of a pastor who has no heart to his Master's work, and a people dead to God and to eternity." upon them? Thus, those who passed by, and beheld the desolation of their city and sanctuary, are repre sented as saying, "Wherefore hath the Lord done thus with this land? What meanèth the heat of his great anger? Then men shall say, Because they have forsaken the covenant of the Lord God of their fathers, which he made with them, when he brought them forth out of the land of Egypt: for they went and served other gods, whom they knew not, and whom he had not given unto them: and the anger of the Lord was kindled against this land, in anger, and in wrath, and in great indignation; and he cast them into another land, as it is this day." Here, then, to see the cause why these calamities came upon this nation, we must bear in mind the distinguished privileges which had been conferred upon them, and their neglect, abuse, and perversion of these privileges. They had been selected from all the nations of the earth to stand in a near relation to God, as his peculiar people. What a high distinction was this! God had solemnly entered into covenant with them, in which He revealed himself to them to be their God, and declared that they were his people, and in which they avouched the Lord to be their God, and so acknowledged themselves to be his people, and in which they solemnly engaged to keep all his commandments. God manifested his gracious presence with them in the tabernacle, and afterwards in the temple. So that it was said of them, "What nation hath God so nigh unto them, as the Lord our God is nigh unto us, in all things that we call upon him for?" God was graciously pleased to provide for them stated ordinances of religion, in the observance of which they might have near intercourse with himself, and obtain special manifestations of his love. They were favoured also with the oracies of God, containing a revelation, of his will, and showing how they were to walk and please God. They had also a succession of prophets among them to instruct, admonish, and encourage them. God was pleased in many ways to interpose for delivering them out of the hands of their enemies; and, finally, there was a special blessing upon their land, so that it brought forth plentifully, and was the glory of all lands. But what return did they render to the Lord for all his benefits? They often forgot God; they abused his mercies; they were prone to follow after the abominations of heathen idolatry; they trampled the divine authority under foot. The Lord warned them, from time to time, by his prophets, rising up early and sending them, that judgments were hanging over them for their transgressions, and exhorting to repent and turn unto the Lord, who was yet ready to heal their backslidings, and to love them freely. But they would not hearken; or if they seemed to repent for a time, they soon returned again to their evil ways. So that the Lord cast off Israel, and gave them up into the hands of their enemies. And when Judah saw what had befallen her treacherous sister Israel, but repented not, and became worse even than Israel, the Lord caused her also to be carried away captive. Whoever will carefully read over the prophecies of Isaiah and Jeremiah, will perceive that wickedness had risen to a very great height in Judah, and was greatly aggravated by the many warnings that were given them of coming judgment, before the long threatened vengeance was at length executed, and they were given up into the hands of the king of Babylon. But it will be useful here to notice some of the wise and gracious purposes that were answered by this afflictive dispensation. For while it was evidently sent as a severe chastisement, and they found it to be so in their sad experience, yet God is pleased to make the severest chastisements minister to the spiritual good of his people. And, therefore, is the exhortation addressed to those under his chastening rod: "Despise |