The world is another of the enemies with which we have to conflict, and a dangerous one it proves to be to many who belong to Immanuel's army. There are various scripture meanings of the world; but I shall consider it as the enemy of Christians in its possessions: "All that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life." The world contains the nutriment and fuel of every carnal propensity that is found within us; and therefore it is a confederate, an ally of our corrupt nature, and it is both difficult and dangerous to traverse the path we tread,-walking through gunpowder, with a flaming torch in our bosom. The things that are in the world -its dignities, its honours, its riches, its pleasuresare all alluring, flattering, tempting, constraining ene

mies.

By the world we may also understand, the wicked who are in it; they are Legion; their smiles allure, their frowns intimidate. There is no mystery in the hatred that is ever exhibited by the people of the world towards conscientious, straightforward Christians; it is perfectly natural that it should be so, for "what concord hath light with darkness? What fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness?" If our affections and dispositions, our estates and purses, our tastes and pursuits, coincided with theirs, they would love us naturally enough; but these things being contrary and at variance, and we being faithful in opposing and resisting the unfruitful works of darkness, strife is necessarily engendered. The believer who is true to his colours must oppose sin in the face of all consequences; he must endeavour to convince sinners of their guilt; he often finds himself in circumstances in which he cannot acquit his conscience unless he braves

the enmity of the world; and often has the world revenged itself by endeavouring to ruin the temporal interests of the Christian soldier: the language of the world on such occasions is, "That fellow must be put down," "We will make the town too hot to hold him," &c.

"The friendship of the world is enmity with God." There are many thousands of Christians who are only nominally so; they have taken up the profession of Christianity because it is the custom of the country, and not from any real love to Christ; they love the world, and are in friendship with it; they are devoted to its pleasures, devoted to its pageants, devoted to its possessions, and enjoy them they will; but then their consciences must have some little sacrifices made to satisfy them, and these are various.

The genuine soldier of the cross cannot make friendship with the world; it would be an anomaly. If a believer becomes worldly-minded, and gives his affections to the things of the world, when he has sworn faithfulness to God, by entering into covenant with him, what is it but an act of spiritual adultery for which he must pay the penalty? He must suffer the hidings of God's countenance, and perhaps be given up to Satan for a season to be buffeted at his pleasure. Who can tell the terrors that may be let loose upon such an apostate? There can be no friendship with the world, without being the declared enemy of God; "If ye were of the world, the world would love his own; but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you."

Death is counted an enemy; but to the believer it is only an imaginary one; to the unbeliever it is a real

enemy, for it separates him from all the pleasures of this life, and shuts him up in blackness and darkness for ever."

There is a natural fear of death implanted in the bosom of every man, which is essential to the preservation of life; and where there is an uncertainty respecting the future salvation of the soul, this natural dread cannot be overcome; it may be diverted, it may be braved, but it cannot be subdued. The fear of death in the Christian ought to have no place, for it is unnatural; nevertheless, it very frequently does exist, and sometimes to a distressing extent, working up the soul to fearful apprehensions and tumultuous doubtings: "Without are fightings; within, fears." The devil takes advantage of these natural fears, to distress the minds of the soldiers of the cross; for it forms part of his infernal tactics to disturb, where he knows he cannot destroy; he raises a great cloud of dust to obscure the believer's evidences, knowing that while his evidences are clear there can be no chance of frightening him by presenting death in terrifying colours. When doubts are once brought to bear, then follow fears. As a believer in Christ Jesus, what have I to do with dying? "I shall not die, but live." Ceasing to breathe is the commencement of vitality; departing from friends is associating with angels; quitting a body of sin is triumphing in holiness; absence from ordinances is presence with Deity; and what would I more?

We can

The devil is justly counted a grand enemy. scarcely be aware of his cunning. In early life he will keep the mind amused with trifles; and as we advance in years he presents the laudable pursuits of life as the all-important concerns for which we were created; knowing that if he can but divert the mind from

serious things, keep religion in the back ground, or reduce it to a formal profession until we have made considerable progress in life, there is very little probability of conversion when " grey hairs are here and there upon us." Gracious God, teach us betimes to say unto Satan, "Get thee behind me."

Satan is opposed to every good work; he stirs up the carnal mind in believers, which often results in defiling their garments; he stirs up the world against believers, which as often results in persecutions and reproaches; and knowing the vast field that is open to his attacks from our natural propensities to sin, he rarely suffers the most wary to gain heaven without the marks of combat, the scars of battle, or the fears of loss, being visibly depicted.

The devil is not only a crafty, active, and persevering foe, but he also proves himself to be a coward. A brave enemy, conscious of his own prowess, will give his adversary every fair advantage, and be willing to meet him on equal terms, as to his arms and appointments, that, in the event of victory, his own skill and courage may be the more conspicuous. But this is not Satan's policy or practice; no, his is the bravery of the bloodthirsty tiger, which gluts his appetite by any means; he is neither honourable in choosing expedients, nor particular in employing them; nor should it be thought strange, for who expects honourable motives in Satan? Is he not a devilish devil?

The conflicts that Christians experience with the powers of darkness usually occur when the body is weakened by disease and the mind is suffering from sympathy; during the period of full health and active life, demoniacal temptations are conducted upon a widely different plan to that which is adopted when the children of the kingdom are brought into circum

stances of sickness and afflictions; for then the onset is made with great probability of success, and generally it is not until the tried Christian has had repeated experience of Satanic assaults that he is able readily to triumph; it is, however, one thing to read about these conflicts, and another thing to be engaged in them.

It might prove to be well worth while to collect together the various experience of Christians respecting their conflicts with the devil: " Knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren which are in the world;" although in referring to facts every one might not like to expose to public view his experience. In turning to my common-place book, I find the following instance, which I copy as illustrative. "I have found that the powers of darkness' have very various methods of making an attack, but upon me their attacks have generally been by surprise; my habitual endeavour is to be watchful. The first distressing onsets of the enemy by surprise occurred during a paroxysm of heart disease, and that in the night time. Now I never had any fear of darkness, and am not naturally timid, but have gone over the house at all hours of the night without a light,—down into the cellar, and up into the garret, when I have heard a noise, to ascertain if any one had broken in.

"The enemy has scarcely ever attempted to surprise me in the day time; but very frequently I have awoke out of sleep, without any apparent cause, my body being in a state of tremor, which I have endeavoured to resolve into the disease with which I am afflicted; but as this has occurred at times when I have been quite free from the paroxysms, and has always been accompanied by mental suffering, I cannot otherwise resolve it than by demoniacal agency. The aim on