YE MUST BE BORN AGAIN.

Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. Ye must be born again, John iii. 3, 7.

THIS evidently shows that a bare profession of Christ will not do. Nothing but a real possession of him in the heart, by faith, will suffice. And before we can attain this, we must experience a renewal of the heart by the Spirit of God. We must be led to see the horrid nature and consequences of sin; and this will lead us to hate and abhor it. We must be born of the Spirit. Let me exhort you to make this strict inquiry, AM I BORN AGAIN? Have you a desire to know whether you are in this state? examine yourself by the apostle's definition of the doctrine. "If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new," 2 Cor. v. 17. Are you a new creature? Are old things passed

Do you act from new

away, and all things become new? principles, and aim at new ends? Is sin hateful, and holiness pleasant? Is Christ precious? Do you wish to enjoy him, and be like him? Are you concerned to glorify him with your body and spirit, which are his? If so, you may answer the question, and say, I am born again.

This new birth will give new desires, new affections, and new enjoyments. The soul thus renewed will look back with astonishment at the long-suffering and mercy of God, when in a state of rebellion against him, and wonder how it was that he was not driven away into eternal woe. The heart will now be filled with holy desires, and a constant longing after CHRIST; and those who have had this new and living principle wrought within, may feel assured that the Lord hath set his seal upon them for EVER! Nothing can separate them from his unchanging love. May this portion give hope and comfort to every desponding soul.

ETERNAL LIFE.

I give unto them ETERNAL life; and they shall never perish,
John x. 28.

ETERNAL LIFE! This is the end for which the Holy Scriptures were written; and this is also the end for which our blessed Saviour came into the world, declaring himself to be the WAY, the TRUTH, and the LIFE-ETERNal Life. This is also the end for which this little work has been written, that it may, through the teaching of the Holy Spirit, awaken sinners from a sleep of death, to find the way to ETERNAL LIFE. And it has pleased God so mercifully to accompany these efforts with His blessing, that many, in various parts of the world, have been brought to praise the Lord that "The Sinner's Friend" w as ever put into their hands and whilst the author gratefully records this pleasing result, he desires most humbly to ascribe to God ALL the praise.

It was, also, of the infinite mercy and compassion of the LORD, that the Author himself was plucked from the very depths of iniquity and sin, and made “a new creature”— BORN AGAIN of God; and it was the continuance of the same mercy, that put it into his heart and mind to write what is here presented to the world, that other sinners (though he deems none so vile as himself) might be brought to rejoice in the same salvation, even ETERNAL LIFE--which is to be found in JESUS CHRIST alone. See 1 John v. 10-12.

Take courage, then, whomsoever you may be, or whatever station of life you fill, or however deep your sins may have been-and come to Jesus, and be assured by the Holy Scriptures, that he who hath the SON (of GOD) hath life.

The Author (once the gay, the dissipated, but reclaimed by sovereign grace) is fast approaching the end of his earthly pilgrimage, awaiting an eternity of glory-his only refuge, the righteousness of his Redeemer: and (after many years of blissful experience of pardoning love) he now bequeaths this portion, as a legacy to the future readers of" THE SINNER'S FRIEND," earnestly beseeching a merciful God, for the sake of his beloved Son, to make it an especial blessing to some desponding soul, that such a one may be raised from a death of sin, to become an heir of Amen.

ETERNAL LIFE.

THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY;

56, PATERNOSTER ROW, AND 65, ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD.

[Price 88. per 100.]

THE CHILD'S QUESTION,

"Where are you going to-night, Mr. Brownlow? Are you going to get drunken?" asked a little fair-haired girl, of four or five years of age, addressing a young man, whose countenance gave evidence that he was a confirmed drunkard. As the child spoke, she stretched her arms across the door-way at which she stood, ignorantly supposing that she could, by those means, prevent his passage through it.

Little Annie was the pet and plaything of Brown

low's sober hours. He had no children of his own; and he felt for her an almost paternal affect on. Her question had a startling effect upon him, and he stopped abruptly.

"You shan't pass, that you shan't; I won't let you," she halfplayfully, half-earnestly added, still retaining her position.

There is something in the innocent prattle of childhood, which goes straight to the heart. Brownlow, depraved as he was, felt its power. His superior strength could, of course, have enabled him, without the slightest difficulty, to push his way on, notwithstanding the barrier; but either a sense of shame, or tenderness towards the child, prevented his resisting those little arms, and he turned and went up stairs to his own apartments.

William Brownlow was a lodger in the house which was rented by Annie's father. Unhappily for the poor child and her mother, they were associates in sin. Young as she was, therefore, she was no stranger to the miseries which drunkenness produces. Brown

the floor above,” and he accordingly proceeded there. His tap at this door was answered by a woman whose dirty, bloated look too plainly showed that she was the victim of intemperance. This horrible vice had robbed her of all that was pleasing or woman-like in appearance; but she was not quite lost to feeling, for a deep blush of shame rose to her cheeks, at being seen by a stranger in her present position; and her visitor thought that he could see some traces of truthfulness and kindness in her manner. She was obliged to own that her husband was at home; but it was with evident reluctance she asked the gentleman into the room. It was a scene that might well call up a blush of shame. The chamber was small, but it was obvious that the family, consisting of eight persons, were living, working, and sleeping in it. A stove stood out in the room, about a yard from the grate, the funnel of which was let into the wall over the chimney piece; near it was an old lathe, and under the window was placed a carpenter's bench, which, together with a long board, used for holding their work, made up the principal furniture of the chamber. There was no bedstead to be seen, but a filthy bundle which lay in one corner, was evidently used for a bed; and beside this, on the ground under the board, there were a number of shavings, which appeared to be put there for a similar purpose, for they were covered with a tattered blanket.

But the occupants of this miserable abode were in a state still more deplorable, for vice, as well as poverty and filth, was stamped upon them. It was the vice of intemperance which had brought them to this condition. At the time that the visitor entered, the father (who was too much in liquor to attend to his business) was leaning against the stove, filling his pipe. His only dress was a dirty shirt, a pair of old canvass trowsers, and slippers made from worn

out boots.

The eldest son was similarly dressed, and equally dirty in person; but he was then sober, and busily employed turning the lathe. A daughter of nineteen or twenty was sitting at the board, putting labels on boxes with leaf gold. No words could describe her appearance. Brought up in poverty and drunkenness, she had evidently no desire for anything better; she had lost all self-respect -all the delicacy of feeling natural to her sex and found in every grade of society, except where long habits of vice has destroyed it. She was dressed in a few filthy rags, covered with a torn coat; and as the stranger gazed upon her, compassion was even stronger than disgust, for his heart bled to think of the hopeless future that was before her, for time and eternity. The four younger members of the family were in the room, two more children were engaged in the business, an infant slept upon the shavings before mentioned, and an interesting looking girl, about six years old the only one who was fit to appear in the streets-was then coming in with a bottle of gin concealed beneath her pinafore. The mother tried to take the bottle from her, without being noticed, and to hide it in the cupboard; but the father, who was too much intoxicated to feel ashamed, shouted out for it, saying, with an oath :"That she need not sham modesty, for she was as fond of gin as anybody." The woman received the necessary instructions, and promised that the order should be sent in the next day; and their visitor retraced his steps down the crazy stairs, with the most painful reflection on the moral as well as physical evils he had witnessed.

This picture, so far from being overdrawn, gives but a faint description of their miserable abode; and there are thousands of similar cases in London alone, calling loudly on Christian sympathy and exertion.

The writer wishes that some account could be added of