Oh, what a delusion is Popery!-what a strong delusion! May we, my dear readers, never tempt God to give us up to it by our abuse and neglect of our many privileges and blessings. What we see around us in these dangerous days may well lead us to fear, and to "walk circumspectly." If we forsake God, He may leave us to be led astray by the error of the wicked. We can none of us say, either in principle or practice, that our mountain is so strong we shall never be moved. If we provoke God he may give us up, even to the most foolish and irrational delusion. Have we not often seen this? Oh, keep near to Christ! Cleave to Him with purpose of heart! Live in the daily, constant atmosphere of the Bible. Cease from man; lean only upon God. Trust in His promises, and live in hope of the day when this earthly house shall be dissolved; "not that you may be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality may be swallowed up of life?" THE TWO IFS; AND WHAT TO DO. W. Jesus said unto "And ofttimes it hath cast him into the fire, and into the waters, to destroy him; but if thou canst do anything, have compassion on us, and help us. him, If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth. And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief."-MARK ix. 22-24. THE three disciples, Peter, James, and John, had been led by Jesus into a high mountain, that they might there behold His glory. When they were absent, a poor man-whose son, an only child, was grievously afflicted by an evil spirit—came, in the hope that Jesus would cast him out, and heal his child. In the absence of the Lord, the disciples essayed, in His name, to work this miracle. But they tried in vain-the spirit held his seat, and tore the poor child as he would. The disciples were greatly amazed at this. They had wrought wonders by the name of the Lord Jesus before, but now this name seems to have lost its power. Here is a spirit of darkness stronger than He. They thought not that the weakness lay with themselves, and their own unbelieving hearts. The Scribes, glad at their discomfiture, gathered round them, and spake disparagingly of Jesus. The father, sad and discouraged, stood by, beholding with a rending heart the sufferings of his son. In the midst of the commotion, Jesus drew near. He asked the cause of the uproar. The poor father is the first to speak. He tells the Lord how his child is tormented by a dumb spirit; and that he had asked His disciples to cast him out, but they could not; and he earnestly beseecheth Jesus, if He can do anything, to have compassion on them, and help them. He is fearful lest He will not be able. Jesus tells him, that if he can believe, "all things are possible to him that believeth.' His words also convey a doubt, but it is of the father's ability to believe. The father, trembling lest any weakness on his part should hinder the healing of his child, crieth out, with tears, "Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief." They both use an if. The father had an if as to Jesus; -Jesus takes that away, and lays it upon the father. The father gets over the obstacle, which otherwise would have been insurmountable, by casting himself, in all his weakness, upon the Lord; and his child is healed. There is no little instruction in all thisinstruction bearing upon our deliverance spiritually from Satan's power. The Lord help us to learn it. I. The father's If: "IF thou canst do anything, have compassion on us, and help us.' وو Nothing can be more affecting than the exhibition we have here of the father's feelings. He earnestly desired that his son should be healed; but he is not quite confident of Christ's power. He is doubtful there. He does not seem to doubt his willingnessif He is but able, he hopes that He will have compassion on them. It was different with the leper: "He fell on his face, and besought Jesus, saying, Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean." There was much, however, in the nature of the case, and in the peculiar circumstances in which the father was placed, to make him fearful as to Christ's ability. 1. The greatness of his child's trouble. He was under the influence of one of the powers of evil-a spirit of the most bitter and malignant kind. Entering into the poor child, he so vexed him that he foamed, and gnashed with his teeth. At other times he would cast him with violence upon the ground, "and ofttimes into the fire, and into the waters, to destroy him." Ever after he entered, he held him under his entire control. Every effort tried to dislodge this evil spirit had been vain; and time as it passed brought no mitigation of his trouble. How all this would tend to lead the father to despair of there being any hope! - the 2. The disciples were unable to effect a cure. He had heard of strange things being done in the land by Jesus of Nazareth. The blind had their eyes opened-the deaf were made to hearlame to walk- even the dead were raised. Inroads also were made into the kingdom of darkness, and many possessed with devils were healed, and restored to their right mind. The news came as balm from heaven to his sad heart. He at once set out with his son, to seek for Jesus. He tracked him out by the fame of His mighty deeds. When he arrived, it was when Jesus was on the Mount. Asking for the Lord, he was introduced to the disciples. They had received power from their Master over all unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal all manner of sickness, and all manner of diseases. And they had already cast out many devils, and done other mighty works. They took his son, and commanded the spirit, in the name of the Lord Jesus, to come out of him. But it came not forth; and, in mockery, tormented the child only the more. Ah! need we wonder that, thus seeing them baffled, the father should have sunk into hopelessness again, so that when the Lord himself appeared, notwithstanding all His fame, he could only say, with a fearful, joyless heart, If thou canst do anything, have compassion on us, and help us!" 66 Mankind may not be afflicted now in the same way as they were in old times, by the powers of darkness; yet, with all who are acquainted with their hearts, it is an undeniable fact that we are much exposed still to their evil influence. Men are still exposed to all the wrath and malice of their arch-enemy, Satan. He walketh about still, "as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour," 1 Pet. v. 8. Every deceit which his wily subtilty can devise, is put in operation. Thousands are caught in his snares, and are taken captive by him at his will. 2 Tim. ii. 26. Reader! it may be, you know how true this is in your own sad experience. You have been made to see and to feel the dreadful state of your soul. You see yourself to be laden with iniquity; and that from the sole of the foot even unto the head, there is no soundness in you, but wounds, and bruises, and putrifying sores Isa. i. 4, 6. You see yourself justly condemned in the sight of God. You cannot bear to think of your state-it is so awful. You dare not think of the coming eternity-it is so full of woe. And yet you can no more put away these thoughts than you can cease to be. Night and day they are before your mind. In broad light, when all is busy around you, you are thoughtful and sad. And even the darkness fails to bring you rest, for though your eyes should slumber, your mind is busy with this one engrossing theme; and in your dreams you fancy yourself among lost souls, in the abodes of the damned. You awake in terror, and happily it is but a dream'; yet you feel no joy, for your spirit is still galled by the heavy burden. How intolerable this load!-How grievous this bondage! You long for deliverance. Oh! for a ray of hope! But all is dark. Oh! to be set free —to be forgiven-to be renewed to be strengthened! Thus you give vent to a bursting heart. Still you cannot blot out the guilt of the past sins of your lifetime. You see now that these are all remembered by God, and must be taken away, or there can be no life for you. You try to reform your ways, but you strive in vain. Each new day gives you fresh discoveries of the depths of pollution in your soul. You feel yourself in the grasp of Satan, and you strive to get free; but you cannot loose his hold. For aught you can do, you feel that you may lie down in despair. But, in the midst of your sadness, your thoughts are turned towards One who is mighty to save, Isa. lxiii. 1,-Jesus Christ, the Son of God-given by Him as His salvation to the ends of the earth, Isa. xlix. 6. Oft you have heard of Him before, but only with cold indifference. Now you look wistfully to Him as the Physician of souls. You hear with joy that he was manifested, that He might destroy the works of the devil, 1 John iii. 8; and that through this Man is preached unto you the forgiveness of sin, Acts xiii. 38; and that "He is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him, seeing He ever liveth to make intercession for them," Heb. vii. 25. You hear of much that Jesus has done-it may be some of your friends have been set free by Him from Satan's power. You turn to Him as your hope. You spare no effort to find Jesus. But you fail to realize Him. He seems far away, and you cannot find Him. Earnestly seeking deliverance, you go to His ministering servants. You disburden your mind to them, and they give you counsel; but you come from them unrelieved. You try to do what they tell you, but the burden is not taken away. Time passes, and yet you are not saved. The light of hope, which the thought of Jesus shed upon your mind, gets fainter. Fearful thoughts arise. You have been striving hard yourself; you have been to ministers-you have cried for mercy, yet still you have no peace; the old habit of sin is not destroyed-Satan's bands are not broken. Ah! you begin to fear that there is something peculiar in your case-that it is too hard, or it may be you have committed the unpardonable sin. You fear that even Jesus cannot save you; and the most you can do, when you are told that He is near, is to look up to Him, with a troubled, fearful heart, saying, "If thou canst do anything, have compassion on me, and help me.' (To be Continued.) SIX WEEKS IN SWITZERLAND. WHEN your vessel approaches travel that you are a proper sort of person for them to have amongst them. But it is of very little use: for instance, I got my passport from a person who had never seen me before in his life, and knew nothing whatever about me; so that, for what the good people of Belgium knew, I might have been a swindler, a conspirator, or anything else. We have no passports in England, I am glad to say; but every country abroad requires them: and they are really of no use,-they never help to catch bad people, and only trouble good ones. The real use that the system serves is, I believe, the employment of a great number of people by the government, who puts all its friends into the good situations. Ostend is a very quiet, melancholy-looking place, on the edge of a still more dreary and melancholy-looking country-all around is as flat as the sea itself, and with almost as few trees growing on it. By making great haste, I contrived to get to the railwaystation in time for the last train to Brussels. It was a lovely afternoon, so I stepped into an open carriage, to see what was to be seen of the country, and also to observe a little the habits and 'manners of the country people, who usually travel in the fourthclass. I could not enter much into conversation with them, for I spoke but little French, and their language is a rather unintelligible mixture of French and Flemish. I sat next a young man, a kind of mechanic, who spoke French well, and was very intelligent. He took me for a German; for the Germans and the English are, of all nations, both in look and language, by far the most similar. He wondered that I should start travelling in foreign countries without speaking French as well as he did, and said that this is always the case with the English; and so I think it is, generally. We rattled on past Bruges and its lofty spires; through Ghent and its fine old churches, the engine rocking our well-packed carriage-full backwards and forwards; everybody talking to the other (for the foreigners talk much more than we do), and making the din tremendous, in the midst of thick fumes of tobacco-smoke, till at last we arrived at Brussels, about nine o'clock. And I was not sorry when we did arrive, for I was almost deaf, nearly suffocated, and half shaken to pieces with my journey. Brussels is a large city, the capital of Belgium; but I must not dwell upon it now, or we shall never get into Switzerland. Next day I took the train to Cologne, and travelled with one gentleman all the way. Poor man, I do not know what was the matter with him, but he did nothing but grumble at everything. Nothing seemed to satisfy him; everything was wrong. Oh what an unhappy thing is discontent! If you wish to be thoroughly unhappy, be discontented. If you wish to do a great deal towards making yourself happy, be determined to be satisfied with all you meet with in life. And yet this is not enough: there must be godliness with contentment." This is what Scripture says, is " great gain." 66 Be holy and be contented, and you are sure to be happy. We are very apt to be discontented, when we are a little put out of our usual way of living or doing. But it is a great Christian virtue, "in whatever state of life we are in, therewith to be content." I arrived at Cologne; and after driving through the various fortifications, with which the city is strongly defended, made my way to the river. This was the Rhine, which runs down all the way from Switzerland, and which I intended to carry me a great part of the way up there. The boat started in the evening, at ten. It was a very long, narrow boat, made sharp to cut the stream; so |