RESISTING TEMPTATION.

MANY a struggling contender for the faith is constrained on reviewing his spiritual history, to confess that it is a record of broken purposes. To resolve has been easy; but to perform, difficult. Self-denial, entire self-conquest, have been the darling objects of his desire; but, in performance, SELF has too often had the mastery.

Why is this? It cannot be because of the inoperativeness of grace; for that is declared to be sufficient. It must be owing to a failure to exercise faith for present victory, when under temptation. And that failure may find its cause in a disposition to parley with temptation.

Whoever does this is certain to suffer some degree of hurt in spiritual conflicts. For, temptation is potential, just so far as it is listened to and no farther. It may be compared to the spider's web. When this ingenious insect would throw its web across a forest pathway, it crawls to an outside branch and spins a single thread of sufficient length to span the road. At first, this tiny thread descends towards the ground. But it is soon borne up by the air, higher and higher, until it waves horizontally to and fro. Presently, it touches an opposite branch. This is the insect's triumph. Lightly it steals across upon the slender thread, and fastens it to the bough. Then, crossing and re-crossing, it adds fibre after fibre, until a bridge of web is formed, sufficient for all its purposes.

Very similarly does Satan seek access to the human mind. First, he thrusts an impure or sinful suggestion before it. He keeps an evil object present to the imagination, that it may stir the emotions. There it floats like the spider's thread. If the mind instantly turns from it, with an act of praying faith, it is impotent for evil. It neither stains nor weakens the

mind which instantly, earnestly, peremptorily rejects its solicitation. But, if the believer pauses, views it with favour, in that moment it pollutes and weakens him, because that favouring look implies evil desire ; it becomes a point on which the temptation fastens ; and Satan has now a direct bridge of access. Stronger and stronger the temptation grows; weaker and weaker becomes the spirit of resistance. The cry for Divine help, which the soul first sent up, grows fainter; and it even begins to cast about itself for reasons in favour of the proposed indulgence. These rise up in abundance. Meanwhile the desires strengthen, passion triumphs, and the tempted one soon lies wounded at the feet of his malicious foe.

This evil all grows out of the first mental act of favourable regard for the sinful object. Safety exists only for instant, prompt, believing resistance. Therefore, tempted one, learn the secret of victory. It lies in INSTANT RESISTANCE of the Tempter. Meet him, as Christ met him, with prompt denials couched in Scripture language. Fight him with texts from the armory of God. Let his assaults be a signal for new acts of appropriating faith. Thus, instead of being conquered, you shall conquer. The joy of victory shall yours, in place of the lamentations of defeat; and your future life be a glorious record of gracious triumphs, and not a blotted register of broken resolutions: for, hath not God written, RESIST THE DEvil, AND HE WILL FLEE FROM YOU?

be

Z. H.

THE CHEERFULNESS OF CHRIST.

WE read of Christ's weeping, not of his laughter ; yet, He graceth a feast with his first miracle, and that a feast of joy.

LILIES OF THE VALLEY.

IN a deep glen they blossomed, in the shade

Of beechen boughs; thick mosses strewed their bed, While emerald leaves enfolded them, and made A graceful veil about each drooping head; And white as purest pearl in ocean shell From the cool shelter gleamed each tiny bell:

Pensively there they grew. When all the land

Was radiant in the splendour of the May, And hill, and dale, and copse on every hand

With songs of birds and wreaths of flowers were gay, Sadness and shadow overhung the spot

Where the sweet lilies bloomed and were forgot.

Forgotten? Ah! not so; for, while the morn
Was fresh and rosy yet, adown the glen,
Treading the mosses lightly as a fawn,

A maiden came rejoicingly, who then
Bent low the shadowy beechen trees beneath,
To cull the lilies for a bridal wreath.

She plucked them while the sorrows of the night
Hung on them still, then bore her prize away;
And as she left the vale, the sunrise bright,
Touching the chilly dews with loving ray,
Made every tear-drop seem a glowing gem,
A diamond spark for kingly diadem.

And if the lilies sprang in loneliness,

And fair and sweet in dark seclusion grew, They passed away 'mid hope and happiness,

Too bright for earth to promise and be true, Decking young beauty's clear and sunny brow That dreamt of nought but happiness I trow.

Are there no human flowerets dwelling low
In life's sequestered places, shadowed o'er
By circumstance, and with a secret woe

Winding about their bosom's inmost core,
Wrapping their spirits round in grief and care,
As the dark leaves enfold the lilies fair?

Yea, sorrow nurses holy ones and pure,

Deep in her shades, unseen by careless eyes, Who patiently and trustingly endure

The chastening griefs that train them for the skies, And from the darkness of their clouded lot

Look to their Saviour and are not forgot.

But He who bids them spring in shade and gloom
Knows well that joy's free gale and sunny ray
Would sully half their purity and bloom,

And touch their soul's meek graces with decay;
Therefore, in sadness and obscurity

He nurtures them for glory yet to be.

Oh, that exceeding and eternal bliss,

That overwhelming weight of glory, wrought By these our light afflictions; well may this

Stifle each sigh and hush each murmuring thought.

Oh, world, that sin and pain may darken never!
What are life's griefs beside thy blest "for ever”?

A QUAINT SIMILE.

I FOUND this saying in an old divine,
And of it, I entreat you reader, think ;-
"If God's good Spirit do not influence thine,

Thou writest with a pen that HATH NO INK."

H. P.

W. M. W.

THE GOSPEL IN A SYNAGOGUE.

(From the Report of a Missionary at Stuttgart :-furnished by the British Society for the Propagation of the Gospel among the Jews.)

ABOUT a fortnight ago, being on a Saturday, Mr. W. asked me whether I would like to accompany him to the synagogue in the Jewish hospital, of which he is the superintendent. I replied in the affirmative. When we arrived at the place-a spacious and very neat building-we were shown into the private apartments of the administrator of the hospital. He received us in the most kind and courteous manner; and as I had been introduced to Mr. R. before this, we entered into a friendly conversation, which, however, was soon interrupted by the coming in of a number of persons.

We now removed into the synagogue-a very nice and comfortable looking place. Here I met about seventy or seventy-five Jews, all inmates of the hospital, and about thirty females, who were in a separate part. I took up my place by the side of Mr. R., and as there was still wanting half an hour before the opening of the service, Mr. R. turned himself to me and addressed me thus:

:

"I have read, with very great pleasure, the tract which Mr. W. lent me some time ago (this being one of Dr. M'Caul's tracts on the fifty-third of Isaiah); and though I am not able to comprehend the whole scope of the arguments employed there, yet I feel perfectly convinced that that chapter can only be applied to the humility and sufferings of the Messiah promised to our fathers; and the present unbelief and misery of our nation is only owing to the perverted and corrupted minds of our Rabbis, who have deprived us of the Word of God, and substituted their own legends and senseless traditions in its stead.