which there is no dispute. There is no difference between us concerning three principles, or acknowledged facts. That these facts may be made more distinct, defined, and observable; we will divide this chapter into sections, and devote a section to each one.

SECTION I.

Experimental testimony is the strongest evidence which exists.-If we were to see a man of truth and probity approach a pile of new and strange fruit, and after partaking of it declare, that its taste was singular ly delightful, and that its effect was immediately exhilarating beyond the excitement of wine; we might believe the statement, or we might not. One man might believe, and another might discredit the avowal. If we were to see ten more individuals, of equal respectability, approach one after the other and partake, each one declaring forthwith that the taste was strange, but delightful, and the result rapid exhilaration; the evidence would be much strengthened by their statement. Add one hundred more, and the testimony might be called more than convincing. But it still does not entirely equal our own experience, when we partake and find it as declared. Experimental testimony is the strongest evidence by which we are influenced.

SECTION II.

Man cannot feel by simple effort, and by mere re solve. Should some one of boundless resources, offer you an estate equal to a nation's treasury, provided you would love, with glowing attachment, the son of a Russian officer; his name you hear, but he is an entire stranger; you could not succeed by simply trying to do so. Our affections are not moved in this way. No matter

how much you might desire to win the prize, you could not arouse in your bosom a devoted affection by mere resolve. You might act the hypocrite, but nothing more. Suppose you were offered a large amount of gold, if you would hate, with sincere abhorrence, some one who had been long dead, (say the father of Demosthenes, the Athenian orator,) you could not rouse yourself into vehement commotion, unless it were hypocritical agitation, for all the gain which could be offered you. Man cannot feel by simple effort, and by mere resolve. If we could not either love or hate these objects of our entire indifference, because we wished it, we would do well to remember that the difficulty would increase, were we asked to hate purely the object of our devoted love, or to love with ardour that which we cordially detested. We cannot in this way move our souls at will in any course we choose,

SECTION III.

That which disposes us to feel when we hear it, does not increase in force by frequent repetition.-If I tell you of a murder which does not move your feelings, then repeat the same facts and circumstances, but find that there is some reason why you do not feel, I am not to expect success by frequent repetition of the same narrative. If I were to go over the same detail every hour throughout the month, and should others take it up, and a thousand men tell it over, you might grow weary, but never tender. Nay, should any one relate a most affecting history, which caused you to weep profusely, you would begin to weep less before the week was out; were he to relate the same each day, and before the year was ended, should this custom be continued, we question if you would feel at any incident in the narrative.

Our feelings can never be coerced by mere repetition of the same.-Reader, thus far we have spoken the common sentiment, and the common language of men. This they all say, whether pious or ungodly. We presume, then, that thus far we are agreed. We have never known these plain principles, and these simple every day facts disputed, until they are used in connection with religious truth. These simple truths have been the experience of every one oftener than they can remember, and we have never known them controverted, until they were found to be a lever which overturns infidelity, and then we have heard them denied by those who had before concealed their hourly undeviating verity. Read these first principles over again, and if you deny their existence, let it be before we come to their application.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

The all-powerful remedy.—It is not so proper to say of the Christian he believes, as to say he knows. We mean the full-grown Christian. The infant cannot walk, cannot sit alone, cannot lift a pound; yet it is of our race. There is so much difference between the performance of an infant and that of the tall man, that we can scarcely see their resemblance, but the infant is a child of Adam, a member of our family. The Bible calls a weak Christian, a babe in Christ. Others, fullgrown men and women, in Christ Jesus. that in the present age, the most with whom we meet

It is true,

are only babes in Christ, if indeed born again. The infant Christian understands the use of this remedy, with almost as much difficulty as the unconverted. He has nothing about him but mustard seed graces, invisible except in a perfect light. But we now speak of the fullgrown child of God. (It is the privilege of every one to drink freely of the milk of the word, and to receive their growth speedily, but they are indolent and pass their whole earthly journey without growing perceptibly.) The full-grown man in Christ knows the Bible is from heaven, with a consciousness which you cannot take from him. Let any man whose mind is unimpaired, hold his hand in the blaze of a torch as long as he can bear it, and after it is withdrawn, let another tell him he did not feel pain; tell him that it was only imagination-heated fancy. Let him enter into very ingenious and plausible arguments concerning caloric, to persuade him that it was all fancy or fanaticism; let him jeer, deride, supplicate, or threaten. It is all the same, you cannot changé his creed in this case, because it is a matter of sensation, and not of simple opinion. So it is with the Christian; with each one who uses the all-powerful remedy; it is a matter of sensation, direct sensation with him. If the man who has held his hand in the blazing torch, were to commence forgetfulness as it regards the sensation of pain, and hold his hand again in the blaze, he would soon have his knowledge recalled. The sensation of the Christian is as plain and direct as that from the lamp, and it is repeated ten times every day. All may use this remedy who choose ;-the experimental evidences of Christianity. We now enter into further explanation by giving the history of incidents as they occurred.

EXPERIMENTAL CURE.

Illustrative incidents as they happened.—CASE 1. There was a man of middle age, of cold, slow, doubting tendency of soul, who obtained, at last, a Christian's hope. He hoped that his name was in the book of life, but he was only an infant, a weakly infant. He seemed to grow some in the course of six or eight years; but very slowly. He dreaded his deficiency in one feature of Christian character. The apprehension gave him pain. He read in one section of his master's letter, "love your enemies." He for a long time, (like thousands of his brethren,) concluded he would not hurt them, or fight them, or return evil for evil, and hoped this was love. He could hear others say of injuries received, "I can forgive, but I will not forget it," and he could see in their cases clearly that this was satan's kind of forgiveness. It made him fear in his own case, that he did not love his enemies. He remembered that his bleeding leader was too stern in his purity to accept of a sham love. He knew that it did not mean a love of approbation for their real sins, but the love of compassion. He knew that the love of compassion was a tender and melting love, and he did not possess it. He sat down trying to feel it, but did not succeed. He tried again and again for a year. He did not love his enemies. He read on the subject. He thought it over in every way; he prayed over it for another year. He did not love his enemies. He went to making stronger efforts, for he thought it would be hard to miss heaven at last. He continued trying for eleven or twelve years. He thought at times, that his feelings were perhaps softer, but he soon found it was not love. At length he found that by mere effort he could not move his affections, He knew that