belonging to true and undefiled religion? To this it may be replied that he seems to have brought forward these two as a specimen and pledge of all the rest. To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction may be aptly considered as an example of every social and relative duty to keep ourselves unspotted from the world is equally a specimen of every per. sonal one. The former may point to all Hour outward obligations to our neighbour; the latter to the state of our hearts and our conduct as respects our Maker. A somewhat similar construction occurs in the Old Testament: "He bath shewed thee, O man, what is good: and what do h the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?" Understanding the words of the text in this general sense, they appear eminently calculated to shew us whether we are under the influence of true and undefiled religion; and they particularly furnish a question of self examination to two opposite classes of persons, who are apt to make equally wrong, though very different, conclusions respecting the effects of the Gospel in the hearts and lives of its professors. Suppose then, on the one hand, the case of a person, if such there be, who professes much religious knowledge, but is giving no evidence of his faith by his works. This man, perhaps, allows the necessity of keeping himself free from the vanities of the world: he understands doctrines; he attends religious duties; he talks boldly of the state of his mind and the safety of his condition, and deceives his own heart with a dependence upon truths which have as yet never produced the least effect in his conduct. Let, then, such a one examine himself by the first mark laid down in the text. Does his religion correspond with that which is here described? Can his dead presumptuous faith be the same principle which St. James intended to pourtray? Behold him unamiable in his tempers, unforgiving, unkind, unfeeling towards the sick and the afflicted. Can his be that true and undefiled religion, one of the outward effects of which (and a specimen of all the rest) is to visit the fatherless children and widows in their affliction? He speaks of the love of God— where then is his love to his neighbour? He boasts of his faithwhere are his works? He professes to have been born again, converted, renewed in heart-where is the evidence of all this in his discharge of his social and moral obligations? He imagines himself a possessor of the grace of God: has that grace taught him to imitate his Redeemer, to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present evil world? What scriptural warrant has he to call himself a partaker of true and undefiled religion when he neglects even the common duties of love to his neighbour? But let us now turn to the second character. There are many persons who will readily join in reprobating the individual just described; and who will say, Give me a good life; let me see correct morals, for they are the great test of religion. We may imagine a person naturally amiable and kind, who even finds a pleasure in doing acts of kindness, such as visiting the fatherless and widows in their affliction; and therefore concludes, without further evidence, that all is right with reference to an eternal world. The former character seemed to make outward duties nothing: this person views them as every thing. But let us seriously inquire of such a one, While you adopt the former part of the duty, do you follow also the latter? You attend to part of what the other character neglected; but do you attend to the whole that is commanded. You are kind to your fellow-creatures; but are you keeping yourself · " } unspotted from the world? Do you not perceive that, after all your charitable efforts, and after all your outward virtues, your heart may not be right with God? You may live as much without Christ and without hope in the world, as though you had been born in a heathen country. You may love the vanities of this present life; you may prefer the opinion of your fellow-creatures to that of your Creator; you may be unholy, and impenitent, and, unbelieving, notwithstanding your charitable disposition. Ask not, then, only whether you are desirous to obtain the first-mentioned mark of religion, charity towards men, but also whether your hearts are purified from the love of sin; whether you have begun to live, not to yourselves, but to the praise and glory of Him who loved you, and gave himself for you; whether you have come out and are separate from the world, as far as your station in life renders you liable to its influence; whether you have crucified the old man with its evil affections, and are become new creatures in Christ Jesus, mortifying the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of the eye, and the pride of life. It is not enough that you are free from the grosser vices; you are required to be unspotted from the world, and not to mix with the irreligious scenes around you. This is said in the text to be the very character of true religion, The friendship of the world, the love of evil ways and evil company, is enmity against God; it is impossible to reconcile the two. We may attempt to do so; we may hope to live as the world live, without dying as the world die, and perishing as the world perish; but the attempt must inevitably fail: you cannot serve God and mammon, or reconcile darkness with light you cannot unite that purity of heart mentioned in the text as the badge of true and un-, defiled religion, with that thoughtless indifferent system of conduct which marks the general character of the world in which you live. Choose ye, then, whom ye will serve; either that holy religion which St. James describes, and which is connected with eternal life, or that pretended religion which contents itself with the cold performance of a few outward virtues without any inward purification of heart, and which therefore can never conduct us to those blessed mansions which, without holiness, no man can behold. II. But, secondly, upon what principles, it may be asked, does this pure and undefiled religion depend? We have seen its effects in stirring men up to both outward and internal duties, love to their neigh. bour and purity from worldly temptation; but what is the foundation upon which it rests? This is an important question: for the whole of Christianity is closely connected; so that the duty and the motive, the command and the promise of Divine assistance, must, never be disjoined. The scriptural principles, then, upon which this true and undefiled religion rests are faith and love. Having beheld the fruit, and acknowledged its beauty and fragrance, let us trace it to the root from which it sprang. An important effect of true religion we have seen is to make us keep ourselves unspotted from the world; and does not an Apostle expressly as-sert, that "this is the victory that overcometh the world, even onr faith?" Nothing can keep us unspotted but this. Are we not also taught, that it is faith that purifieth the heart? The duties, therefore, mentioned in the text, as the marks of true religion, cannot be performed where this principle of faith does not exist. To be truly religious, then, the heart must be renewed; repentance must have taken place, whereby we forsake sin; and faith, whereby we stedfastly believe the promises of God made to us, in the among the very first effects of true religion? Gospel. Our love to our neigh bour must spring from love to the Redeemer; and thus springing it will be a true evidence of our religion, for even a cup of cold water given to a disciple in the name of a disciple shall not lose its reward; whereas could we visit and relieve all the fatherless and widows that ever existed in the world, or even give our body to be burned, and had not that heavenly love or charity which is connected with faith in the Redeemer, it would profit us nothing. In considering, therefore, those fruits of true religion which are mentioned in the text, we are not to view them as the meritorious or procuring cause of our salvation. Should any person be so unacquainted with the Scripture-doctrine on this subject as to fall into this error, we might imagine even his own consciousness of the very imperfect way in which he has fulfilled any one single duty would correct his delusion, and convince him of his need of redemption by the blood of a crucified Saviour. For who can say that he has performed for a single day or hour the duties mentioned in the text in the manner he ought; or that his love to his neighbour, or his devotedness to God, has been such as to challenge á reward? Such, then, being your condition, where do you place your trust for salvation? Will you say, on yourselves? Awful delusion! Worst of all infatuations! But will you say, on the death and merits of the Redeemer? The reply is scriptural; for none other name is given under heaven by which men can be saved. But then, where is the evidence of your religion? How do you reconcile wilfully living in sin with the hopes of salvation? Where are the works which are to prove the truth of that faith? Where is that peace with God which follows upon being justified by faith? Where are the symptoms of that deadness to the world, and life to God, which are Thus we perceive how, closely holy principles and practice are allied. St. James, expressly calls the latter "true religion," because it is its inseparable attendant, and the scriptural evidence of its existence. To pretend to religion when no effects are to be seen is as unscriptural as the opposite error of thinking we possess the effects when we know nothing of the principle; or, in other words, that our life may be good and religious, when our hearts are decidedly worldly, Pure religion, and undefiled, is not merely to have a correct creed on the one hand, or to cultivate a few outward virtues on the other; but it is to have the testimony both of the heart and of the life-to possess a true and lively faith that produces good works, and to practise good works from a true and lively faith. It is to repent, and to bring forth fruits meet for repentance-tobe converted toGod, and to evidence our conversion by our life and deportment. And such a religion, it may be added, is not only "pure and undefiled," but full of hope and joy. It is not gloomy, or harsh, or austere; it is a way of pleasantness, and a path of peace. It keeps the heart unspotted from the world, and it renders the conduct conformable to the new affections of the heart. Its foundation is repentance and faith in the Redeemer; its superstructure is holiness, and benevolence, and charity, and whatsoever else is lovely and of good report: its end is immortality and eternal life, To the Editor of the Christian Observer. THE following is a regular series of extracts from a course of letters written by the late Rev. John Newton, to a lady, between the years 1774 and 1790. The celebrity of Mr. Newton in epistolary composition, and the intrinsic excellence of these letters themselves would be sufficient reasons for presenting the case, had not the night been them to the public, independently calm, as two thirds of the buildings of any other. It should, however, are thatched. No lives were lost, be added, in order to obviate the or considerable hurt received: and suspicion of that indecorum which I believe the contributions of the not unfrequently attends the post- benevolent, will prevent the loss, humous publication of letters of which was perhaps about 400/ private friendship, that Mr. New- exclusive of what was insured, from ton expressed a particular wish being greatly felt. It was at the that the following should see the distance of a quarter of a mile light. He thus expresses himself, from my house. November 6, 1780" My Letters, in two vols. 12mo., will be pub. lished in about a month. Should I ever be asked for a third volume, I shall wish it may contain a part of my correspondence with Miss ; and if you please to send me a transcript of such extracts as you think fit for publication, I will thank you. Particularly I should like to see that on the subject of Chloe's dreams." The same wish and intention was expressed on other occasions. A FRIEND. "What can I say for myself, to let your obliging letter remain so long unanswered, when your kind solicitude for us induced you to write? I am ashamed of the delay. You would have heard from me immediately, had I been at home. But I have reason to be thankful that we were providentially called to London a few days before the fire, so that Mrs. Newton was merci fully preserved from the alarm and shock she must have felt had she been upon the spot. Your letter followed me thither, and was in my possession more than a week before my return. I purposed writing every day; but indeed I was much hurried and engaged. Yet I am not excused. I ought to have saved time from my meals or my sleep, rather than appear negligent or ungrateful. I now seize the first post I could write by since I came home. The fire devoured twelve houses; and it was a mercy and alinost a miracle that the whole town was not destroyed, which must, humanly speaking, have been "Your command limits my at tention, at present, to a part of your letter, and points me out a subject: yet, at the same time, you lay me under a difficulty. I would not willingly offend you, and I hope the Lord has taught me not to aim at saying handsome things. I deal not in compliments; and religious compliments are the most unseemly of any. But why might I not express my sense of the grace of God manifested in you, as well as in another? I believe our hearts are all alike, destitute of every good, aud prone to every evil. Like mo ney from the same mint, they bear the same impression of total depra, vity. But grace makes a difference, and grace deserves the praise. Per haps it might not greatly displease you, that others do, and must, and will think better of you, than you of yourself. If I do, how can I help it, when I form my judgment entirely from what you say and write? I cannot consent that you should seriously appoint me to exa mine and judge of your state. I thought you knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, what your views and desires are: yea, you express them in your letter, in full agree, ment with what the Scripture de clares of the principles, desires, and feelings of a Christian. It is true that you feel a contrary principle; that you are conscious of defects and defilements; but it is equally true that you could not be right, if you did not feel these things. To be conscious of them, and humbled for them, is one of the surest marks of grace; and to be more deeply sensibie of them than formerly, is the best evidence of growth in grace. But when the enemy would tempt us to doubt and distrust, because we are not perfect, then he fights not only against our peace, but against the honour and faithfulness of our blessed Lord. Our righteousness is in him; and our hope depends not upon the exercise of grace in us, but upon the fulness of grace and love in Him, and upon his obedience unto death. "There is a difference between the holiness of a sinner, and that of an angel. The angels have never sinned, nor have they tasted of redeeming love: they have no inward conflicts, no law of sin warring in their members. Their obedience is perfect, their happiness complete. Yet if I be found among * redeemed sinners, I need not wish to be an angel. Perhaps God is not less glorified by your obedi"ence, and, not to shock you, I will add, by mine, than by Gabriel's. It is a mighty manifestation of his grace, indeed, when it can live, and act, and conquer in such hearts as ours; when, in defiance of an evil nature, and an evil world, and all the force and subtlety of Satan, a weak worm is still upheld, and enabled not only to climb,' but to thresh' the mountains; when a small spark is preserved, through storms and floods. In these circumstances the work of grace is to be estimated, not merely from its imperfect appearance, but from the difficulties it has to struggle with and overcome. And therefore our ho liness does not consist in great at tainments, but in spiritual desires; in hungerings, thirstings, and mournings; in heart humiliation, poverty of spirit, submission, meekness; in cordial admiring thoughts of Jesus, and dependence upon him alone for all we want. Indeed, these may be said to be great attainments; but they who have most of them, are most sensible that they, in and of themselves, are nothing, have nothing, can do nothing, and see daily cause for abhorring them"selves, and repenting in dust and ashes. "Our view of death will not be always alike; but will be in proportion to the degree in which the Holy Spirit is pleased to communicate his sensible influence. We may anticipate the moment of dissolution with pleasure and desire in the móruing, and be ready to shrink from the thought of it before night. But though our frames and perceptions vary, the report of faith concerning it is the same. The Lord usually reserves dying strength for a dying hour. When Israel was to pass Jordan, the ark was in the river; and though the rear of the host could not see it, yet as they suecessively came forward, and · approached the banks, they all beheld the ark, and all went safely over. As you are not weary of living, if it be the Lord's pleasure, so I hope, for the sake of your friends, and the people whom you love, he will spare you amongst us a little longer but when the time shall arrive which he has appointed for your dismission, I make no doubt but he will overpower all your fears, silence all your enemies, and give you a comfortable triumphant entrance into his kingdom. You have nothing to fear from death; for Jesus, by dying, has disarmed it of its sting, has perfumed the grave, and opened the gates of glory for his believing people. Satan, so far as he is permitted, will assault our peace ; but he is a vanquished enemy. Our Lord holds him in a chain, and sets him bounds which he cannot pass. He provides likewise for us the whole armour of God, and has promised to cover our heads himself in the day of battle, to bring us honourably through every skirmish, and to make us more than conquerors at the last. "If you think my short unexpected interview with Mr. Cadogan may justify my wishing he should know that I respect |