THE SAVIOUR continues: "Marvel not that I said unto thee, ye must be born again." We can almost see, in imagination, the wonder and astonishment depicted in the countenance of Nicodemus, at this doctrine, so new and strange to him. "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, nor whither it goeth; so is every one that is born of the Spirit.” As if he had said, Though it may be something you do not understand, it is, nevertheless true. You do not understand how the wind blows,-where it comes from, nor whither it flies; yet you see the effects of it, and you do not doubt the reality of its existence, nor its power. So is the operation of the Spirit of God. Its existence and influence is evident enough, from its regenerating power upon the heart. NICODEMUS. "How can these things be? THE SAVIOUR. "Art thou a Master in Israel, and know. est not these things?" Are you a professed teacher of your people, and so little acquainted with what is taught in the Scriptures, the Law and the Prophets, as to be filled with amazement at such truth? This was a most delicate, though indirect rebuke, which Nicodemus must have felt. That he should be exercising the office of a Teacher in Israel, expounding to others the Scriptures, and yet, having so little spiritual acquaintance with them himself, as to be ignorant of the first and fundamental principles of religion. THE SAVIOUR proceeds: "Verily, verily, I say unto thee, We speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen, and ye receive not our witness.” The Son of God, who came down from heaven, imparted the instruction of eternal truth. "Grace and truth came by Jesus Christ." "If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things?" It is not improbable, from this remark, that Nicodemus intended to inquire farther, as to the nature of the Saviour's kingdom, especially respecting things in heaven. But he is made to see, that if he cannot understand nor believe the first principles of religious truth, the rudiments of heavenly knowledge, he would be utterly lost and confounded, in the higher and more glorious mysteries of the kingdom of heaven. If he could not believe the doctrine of the "new birth," which must take place in this world, before one can enter the kingdom of heaven, how would he be able to comprehend those things respecting the heavenly world, into which the angels desire to look. This disposition of mind, which our Saviour here brings to view, is one very commonly found. Men often disbelieve and reject the very first truths of the gospel, and then endeavor to satisfy conscience by finding fault with reli ", on account of some great mysterious difficulties ahead, which they can neither understand nor reconcile. "And no man hath ascended up to heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven." The Saviour alone, could impart that knowledge of divine things which is revealed from heaven. No man has ascended to heaven to bring down a knowledge of its glories, or to make known the way of admission there. The Son of man alone, the "Lord from heaven," (1 Cor. 15:47,) has brought immortality to light. See also, John 1:18. THE SAVIOUR, now turns the attention of the inquiring ruler to another subject. "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up." When the Israelites, in their journeyings from Egypt to Canaan, murmured against Moses and against God, he sent, in punishment of their sin, a visitation of fiery serpents, so called, it is supposed, from their glowing colors. Their deadly bite swept off multitudes of the murmuring and ungrateful people. "And much people of Israel died." But, when Moses entreated the Lord in their behalf, he was pleased to hear his prayer. He commanded a brazen serpent to be erected in the afflicted camp, with the assurance, that whosoever was bitten, and suffering from the fatal venom, might "look and live." Unquestionably, those who were healed, looked to the appointed remedy, in the exercise of penitence for their sin, and of grateful confidence in the promise and goodness of God. Numbers 21:8. This brazen serpent, erected in the view of the camp of Israel, for the healing of the sick and dying, was but a faint type of the LAMB OF GOD, who was to be "lifted up" upon the cross, between heaven and earth, that all this guilty world might look to Him and live. He is represented as saying, in the prophecy of Isaiah, "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth." With what affecting tenderness does the Saviour himself, here say, "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man, be lifted up, that whosoever believeth in Him, should not perish, but have eternal life." VOL. I. 20 How has all the preceding conversation prepared the way for this great truth of the atoning sacrifice of the Son of God. With what inimitable and melting delicacy, does the Saviour announce to Nicodemus that He, must die upon the cross for him! "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, THAT WHOSOEVER BELIEVETH IN HIM, SHOULD NOT PERISH, BUT HAVE EVERLASTING LIFE." Yes, with emphasis is it repeated, that the Saviour must die, that whosoever believeth in Him, might be saved from eternal death, and be the heir of everlasting life. This last verse, with which we shall close our extracts from this conversation, contains, as it were, an epitome of the whole gospel. For the Religious Magazine. TEACHING YOUNG CHILDREN TO PRAY. I HAVE been much gratified by the various articles on "First Religious Lessons," which have appeared in your Magazine, and I would offer a few suggestions on teaching children to pray. Most parents think it a duty incumbent upon them to make a child, as soon as it can iisp, repeat the Lord's Prayer, or some little form, suited to its capacity. I have long doubted the expediency of this course. The child, in most cases, as he is preparing for bed, is told, "Kneel down and say your prayers." Obedient to the command, he drops beside his mother's lap, perhaps half asleep, or with a mind filed with the play from which he has just been called, and mutters a few words, which he has learned by rote, and repeated night after night, till it has become a mat ter of course. He does it as he would pull off his shoes and stockings, because he knows he cannot go to bed till it is done. It is not necessary that the child's evening prayer should be thus a mere heartless form. Some effort and attention on the part of the mother is, indeed, necessary to prevent it; but it does not require more than any Christian ought to be willing to devote to her child. Let her, at the close of the day, take her child upon her knee, and by a few simple remarks, like the following, endeavor to awaken its heart to gratitude : "My child, let us talk a little about what has happened today. Have you felt sick today?" a little while, when I was vexed, because the baby tore my book; and then I felt sorry, that I had been angry, because baby did not know any better, you know." "And can you tell me nothing else, about the day, my child?" After a little thought,"Oh, yes. I had a beautiful walk with father,and, - and you know, once I was disobedient, and you had to punish me, and that made you feel grieved." "Yes, I am grieved, when I am obliged to punish my little daughter. Now, you know who it is you must thank, for keeping you from being sick, and who has given you that kind father, who took you to walk, and who it is will help you to be better, and who is listening to us now." "Yes, Mother; God." The child will now, with a mind full of the idea of a heavenly Father, kneel, and with the warmth and sincerity of childhood, offer up its prayer, in its own simple language. I once had an intelligent boy, of four or five years old, left in my care, for a few weeks. The first night,as had been his custom, he repeated, with great rapidity, a little form of prayer,-then started from his knees, and began to tell me of something that had evidently been occupying his mind, whilst kneeling. The next evening, I withdrew him at an early hour from the family circle, and seating him on my lap, began a review of the day, and endeavored to lead his mind to God. I then told him to kneel down: he, as usual, repeated the little form; and I then asked him to thank God in his own words. With childish reluctance he said, "I don't want to." On being farther urged, "I do not know what to say," was the reply. I spoke of his parents, he could thank them; would he not thank his Father in heaven for his care, and ask him to help him to be a better boy. At last he said, "I thank thee, that thou hast took care of me, and I thank thee to make me a good little boy tomorrow." This was something gained. I found his reluctance decrease every night; and I thought I could perceive a beneficial effect on the child, as we extended our evening conversations, and talked of God's constant care and oversight. Not long after our first conversation, in relating the events of the day, he mentioned one incident, and said, "I felt really sorry I did so; I don't always feel sorry, when I do wrong, but this time I did. Did God know I was sorry in my heart? Would he have known it, if I hadn't said so?" This was the first time I had known him volunteer an expression of regret for a fault. There is, probably, nothing original in my remarks; they may have occurred to many parents, but it is a deeply important subject, and I should feel most truly grateful, might I be the humble instrument of rous ing one careless mother, to think of her responsibility in early cultivating a real, heartfelt spirit of prayer in her children. An Israelite came to the door of the tabernacle with a lamb, for a sin-offering. The priest received it from his hands, but found it maimed. He called the offerer, "Dost thou not know the law?" "But, my father, I am poor! Why then, didst thou not bring two turtle-doves, as the law allows thee?" "Nay, my father, but the lamb is more valuable, and I was ashamed to bring so small a sacrifice to our God, and before his people." "And dost thou think, my son, that God is pleased with the value of thine offering? If he needed offerings, he would not tell thee; for the cattle upon a thousand hills, are his. He demands obedience; and a spotless dove, is more acceptable than an ox that is blenished. Go, and subdue thy pride, and bring a double offering, if it be but two ephahs of fine flour for this new disobedience." The Israelite went his way, sorrowful and ashamed. The penitential psalm of David was a part of the service of the temple on that day. A poor penitent came up to worship before the Lord, who had just risen from a sick bed, where he had lingered for many months, longing and fainting for the courts of the Lord. He could now scarcely sustain his tottering limbs; but he came "with the people that kept holy day," to witness the morning sacrifice. He heard those delightful words: 66 "Thou desirest not sacrifice, else would I give it. Thou delightest not in burnt-offering. The sacrifices of God, are a broken spirit; a broken ard a contrite heart, thou wilt not despise." They were like a cordial to his sinking spirit. The service was finished. One after another brought his sacrifice, and was accepted and dismissed; but the penitent had none! At length, he drew near, and prostrated himself before the priest; "What wilt thou my son?" said the venerable man; Hast thou an offering?" No, my father, the last night, a poor widow and her children, came to me, and I had nothing to give her but the two young pigeons, which were ready for sacrifice." Bring then, an ephah of fine flour." “Nay, my father, but this day, my sickness and poverty had left only enough for my own starving children, and I have not even an ephah of flour." "Wh then, art thou come to me, my son?" "I heard them sing, 'the sacrifices of God, are a broken spirit.' Will he not accept mine? God be merciful to me a sinner!" The old priest was melted, and the tear started in his oye, as he |