SERMONS TO THE NATURAL MAN. BY WILLIAM G. T. SHEDD, D. D. , AUTHOR OF "A HISTORY OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE, " "HOMILETICS AND PASTORAL. THEOLOGY, " "DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS, " "PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY, " ETC. NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER & CO. , 654 BROADWAY. 1871. PREFACE. It is with a solemn feeling of responsibility that I send forth thisvolume of Sermons. The ordinary emotions of authorship have little placein the experience, when one remembers that what he says will be either ameans of spiritual life, or an occasion of spiritual death. I believe that the substance of these Discourses will prove to accordwith God's revealed truth, in the day that will try all truth. The titleindicates their general aim and tendency. The purpose is psychological. Iwould, if possible, anatomize the natural heart. It is in vain to offerthe gospel unless the law has been applied with clearness and cogency. Atthe present day, certainly, there is far less danger of erring in thedirection of religious severity, than in the direction of religiousindulgence. If I have not preached redemption in these sermons so fullyas I have analyzed sin, it is because it is my deliberate convictionthat just now the first and hardest work to be done by the preacher, forthe natural man, is to produce in him some sensibility upon the subjectof sin. Conscience needs to become consciousness. There is considerabletheoretical unbelief respecting the doctrines of the New Testament; butthis is not the principal difficulty. Theoretical skepticism is in asmall minority of Christendom, and always has been. The chief obstacle tothe spread of the Christian religion is the practical unbelief ofspeculative believers. "Thou sayest, "--says John Bunyan, --"thou dost indeed and in truth believe the Scriptures. I ask, therefore, Wast thouever killed stark dead by the law of works contained in the Scriptures?Killed by the law or letter, and made to see thy sins against it, andleft in an helpless condition by the law? For, the proper work of the lawis to slay the soul, and to leave it dead in an helpless state. For, itdoth neither give the soul any comfort itself, when it comes, nor doth itshow the soul where comfort is to be had; and therefore it is called the'ministration of condemnation, ' the 'ministration of death. ' For, thoughmen may have a notion of the blessed Word of God, yet before they beconverted, it may be truly said of them, Ye err, not knowing theScriptures, nor the power of God. " If it be thought that such preaching of the law can be dispensed with, byemploying solely what is called in some quarters the preaching of thegospel, I do not agree with the opinion. The benefits of Christ'sredemption are pearls which must not be cast before swine. The gospel isnot for the stupid, or for the doubter, --still less for the scoffer. Christ's atonement is to be offered to conscious guilt, and in order toconscious guilt there must be the application of the decalogue. JohnBaptist must prepare the way for the merciful Redeemer, by legal andclose preaching. And the merciful Redeemer Himself, in the opening of Hisministry, and before He spake much concerning remission of sins, preacheda sermon which in its searching and self-revelatory character is a morealarming address to the corrupt natural heart, than was the firstedition of it delivered amidst the lightnings of Sinai. The Sermon on theMount is called the Sermon of the Beatitudes, and many have theimpression that it is a very lovely song to the sinful soul of man. Theyforget that the blessing upon obedience implies a _curse_ upondisobedience, and that every mortal man has disobeyed the Sermon on theMount. "God save me, "--said a thoughtful person who knew what is in theSermon on the Mount, and what is in the human heart, --"God save me fromthe Sermon on the Mount when I am judged in the last day. " When Christpreached this discourse, He preached the law, principally. "Thinknot, "--He says, --"that I am come to destroy the law or the prophets. I amnot come to destroy, but to fulfil. For verily I say unto you, Till heavenand earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the lawtill all be fulfilled. " John the Baptist describes his own preaching, which was confessedly severe and legal, as being far less searching thanthat of the Messiah whose near advent he announced. "I indeed baptize youwith water unto repentance: but he that cometh after me is mightier thanI, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear: he shall baptize you with theHoly Ghost and with _fire_; whose _fan_ is in his hand, and he will_thoroughly purge_ his floor, and gather his wheat into the garner; buthe will _burn up the chaff_ with unquenchable fire. " The general burden and strain of the Discourse with which the Redeemeropened His ministry is preceptive and mandatory. Its keynote is: "Thoushalt do this, " and, "Thou shalt not do that;" "Thou shalt be thus, inthine heart, " and, "Thou shalt not be thus, in thine heart. " So little issaid in it, comparatively, concerning what are called the doctrines ofgrace, that it has often been cited to prove that the creed of the Churchhas been expanded unduly, and made to contain more than the Founder ofChristianity really intended it should. The absence, for example, of anydirect and specific statement of the doctrine of Atonement, in thisimportant section of Christ's teaching, has been instanced by theSocinian opponent as proof that this doctrine is not so vital as theChurch has always claimed it to be. But, Christ was purposely silentrespecting grace and its methods, until he had _spiritualized Law_, andmade it penetrate the human consciousness like a sharp sword. Of what usewould it have been to offer mercy, before the sense of its need had beenelicited? and how was this to be elicited, but by the solemn andauthoritative enunciation of law and justice? There are, indeed, cheeringintimations, in the Sermon on the Mount, respecting the Divine mercy, andso there are in connection with the giving of the Ten Commandments. Butlaw, rather than grace, is the main substance and burden of both. Thegreat intention, in each instance, is to convince of sin, preparatory tothe offer of clemency. The Decalogue is the legal basis of the OldDispensation, and the Sermon on the Mount is the legal basis of the New. When the Redeemer, in the opening of His ministry, had provided theapparatus of conviction, then He provided the apparatus of expiation. TheGreat High-Priest, like the Levitical priest who typified Him, did notsprinkle atoning blood indiscriminately. It was to bedew only him whofelt and confessed guilt. This legal and minatory element in the words of Jesus has also beennoticed by the skeptic, and an argument has been founded upon it to provethat He was soured by ill-success, and, like other merely human reformerswho have found the human heart too hard, for them, fell away from thegentleness with which He began His ministry, into the anger anddenunciation of mortified ambition with which it closed. This is thepicture of Jesus Christ which Rénan presents in his apocryphal Gospel. But the fact is, that the Redeemer _began_ with law, and was rigorouswith sin from the very first. The Sermon on the Mount was delivered notfar from twelve months from the time of His inauguration, by baptism, tothe office of Messiah. And all along through His ministry of three yearsand a half, He constantly employs the law in order to prepare his hearersfor grace. He was as gentle and gracious to the penitent sinner, in theopening of His ministry, as he was at the close of it; and He was asunsparing and severe towards the hardened and self-righteous sinner, inHis early Judaean, as He was in His later Galilean ministry. It is sometimes said that the surest way to produce conviction of sin isto preach the Cross. There is a sense in which this is true, and there isa sense in which it is false. If the Cross is set forth as the cursedtree on which the Lord of Glory hung and suffered, to satisfy the demandsof Eternal Justice, then indeed there is fitness in the preaching toproduce the sense of guilt. But this is to preach the _law_, in itsfullest extent, and the most tremendous energy of its claims. Suchdiscourse as this must necessarily analyze law, define it, enforce it, and apply it in the most cogent manner. For, only as the atonement ofChrist is shown to completely meet and satisfy all these _legal_ demandswhich have been so thoroughly discussed and exhibited, is the real virtueand power of the Cross made manifest. But if the Cross is merely held up as a decorative ornament, like that onthe breast of Belinda, "which Jews might kiss and infidels adore;" if itbe proclaimed as the beautiful symbol of the Divine indifference andindulgence, and there be a studious _avoiding_ of all judicial aspectsand relations; if the natural man is not searched by law and alarmed byjustice, but is only soothed and narcotized by the idea of anEpicurean deity destitute of moral anger and inflicting no righteousretribution, --then, there will be no conviction of sin. Whenever thepreaching of the law is positively _objected_ to, and the preaching ofthe gospel is proposed in its place, it will be found that the "gospel"means that good-nature and that easy virtue which some mortals dare toattribute to the Holy and Immaculate Godhead! He who really, and in goodfaith, preaches the Cross, never opposes the preaching of the law. Still another reason for the kind of religious discourse which we aredefending is found in the fact that multitudes are expecting a happyissue of this life, upon ethical as distinguished from evangelicalgrounds. They deny that they deserve damnation, or that they needChrist's atonement. They say that they are living virtuous lives, and areready to adopt language similar to that of Mr. Mill spoken in anotherconnection: "If from this position of integrity and morality we are to besent to hell, to hell we will go. " This tendency is strengthened by thecurrent light letters, in distinction from standard literature. A certainclass, through ephemeral essays, poems, and novels, has been plied withthe doctrine of a natural virtue and an innate goodness, until it hasbecome proud and self-reliant. The "manhood" of paganism is glorified, and the "childhood" of the gospel is vilified. The graces of humility, self-abasement before God, and especially of penitence for sin, aredistasteful and loathed. Persons of this order prefer to have theirreligious teacher silent upon these themes, and urge them to courage, honor, magnanimity, and all that class of qualities which implyself-consciousness and self-reliance. To them apply the solemn words ofthe Son of God to the Pharisees: "If ye were blind, ye should have no sin:but now ye say, We _see_, therefore your sin remaineth. " It is, therefore, specially incumbent upon the Christian ministry, toemploy a searching and psychological style of preaching, and to apply thetests of ethics and virtue so powerfully to men who are trusting toethics and virtue, as to bring them upon their knees. Since these men aredesiring, like the "foolish Galatiana, " to be saved by the law, then letthe law be laid down to them, in all its breadth and reach, that they mayunderstand the real nature and consequences of the position they havetaken. "Tell me, " says a preacher of this stamp, --"tell me, ye thatdesire to be under the law, do ye not hear the law, "--do ye not hear itsthundering, --"_cursed_ is every one that continueth not in ALL thingsthat are written in the law, to do them!" Virtue must be absolutelyperfect and spotless, if a happy immortality is to be made to depend uponvirtue. If the human heart, in its self-deception and self-reliance, turns away from the Cross and the righteousness of God, to morals and therighteousness of works, then let the Christian thinker follow after itlike the avenger of blood. Let him set the heights and depths of ethical_perfection_ before the deluded mortal; let him point to the inaccessiblecliffs that tower high above, and bid him scale them if he can; let himpoint to the fathomless abysses beneath, and tell him to descend andbring up perfect virtue therefrom; let him employ the very instrumentwhich this _virtuoso_ has chosen, until it becomes an instrument oftorture and self-despair. In this way, he is breaking down the "manhood"that confronts and opposes, and is bringing in the "childhood" that isdocile, and recipient of the kingdom. These Sermons run the hazard of being pronounced monotonous, because ofthe pertinacity with which the attempt is made to force self-reflection. But this criticism can easily be endured, provided the attempt succeeds. Religious truth becomes almighty the instant it can get _within_ thesoul; and it gets within the soul, the instant real thinking begins. "Asyou value your peace of mind, stop all scrutiny into your personalcharacter, " is the advice of what Milton denominates "the sty ofEpicurus. " The discouraging religious condition of the present age isdue to the great lack, not merely in the lower but the higher classes, ofcalm, clear self-intelligence. Men do not know themselves. The Delphicoracle was never less obeyed than now, in this vortex of mechanical artsand luxury. For this reason, it is desirable that the religious teacherdwell consecutively upon topics that are connected with that which is_within_ man, --his settled motives of action, and all those spontaneouson-goings of his soul of which he takes no notice, unless he is persuadedor impelled to do so. Some of the old painters produced powerful effectsby one solitary color. The subject of moral evil contemplated in theheart of the individual man, --not described to him from the outside, butwrought out of his own being into incandescent letters, by the fiercechemistry of anxious perhaps agonizing reflection, --sin, the one awfulfact in the history of man, if caused to pervade discourse will alwaysimpart to it a hue which, though it be monochromatic, arrests and holdsthe eye like the lurid color of an approaching storm-cloud. With this statement respecting the aim and purport of these Sermons, anddeeply conscious of their imperfections, especially for spiritualpurposes, I send them out into the world, with the prayer that God theSpirit will deign to employ them as the means of awakening some soulsfrom the lethargy of sin. Union Theological Seminary, New York, _February 17_, 1871. * * * * * CONTENTS. I. THE FUTURE STATE A SELF-CONSCIOUS STATE II. THE FUTURE STATE A SELF-CONSCIOUS STATE (continued) III. GOD'S EXHAUSTIVE KNOWLEDGE OF MAN IV. GOD'S EXHAUSTIVE KNOWLEDGE OF MAN (continued) V. ALL MANKIND GUILTY; OR, EVERY MAN KNOWS MORE THAN HE PRACTISES VI. SIN IN THE HEART THE SOURCE OF ERROR IN THE HEAD VII. THE NECESSITY OF DIVINE INFLUENCES VIII. THE NECESSITY OF DIVINE INFLUENCES (continued) IX. THE IMPOTENCE OF THE LAW X. SELF-SCRUTINY IN GOD'S PRESENCE XI. SIN IS SPIRITUAL SLAVERY XII. THE ORIGINAL AND THE ACTUAL RELATION OF MAN TO LAW XIII. THE SIN OF OMISSION XIV. THE SINFULNESS OF ORIGINAL SIN XV. THE APPROBATION OF GOODNESS IS NOT THE LOVE OF IT XVI. THE USE OF FEAR IN RELIGION XVII. THE PRESENT LIFE AS BELATED TO THE FUTURE XVIII. THE EXERCISE OF MERCY OPTIONAL WITH GOD XIX. CHRISTIANITY REQUIRES THE TEMPER OF CHILDHOOD XX. FAITH THE SOLE SAVING ACT SERMONS. THE FUTURE STATE A SELF-CONSCIOUS STATE. 1 Cor. Xiii. 12. --"Now I know in part; but then shall I know even as alsoI am known. " The apostle Paul made this remark with reference to the blessedness ofthe Christian in eternity. Such assertions are frequent in theScriptures. This same apostle, whose soul was so constantly dilatedwith the expectation of the beatific vision, assures the Corinthians, inanother passage in this epistle, that "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hathprepared for them that love Him. " The beloved disciple John, also, thoughhe seems to have lived in the spiritual world while he was upon theearth, and though the glories of eternity were made to pass before him inthe visions of Patmos, is compelled to say of the sons of God, "It dothnot yet appear what we shall be. " And certainly the common Christian, ashe looks forward with a mixture of hope and anxiety to his final state ineternity, will confess that he knows but "in part, " and that a very smallpart, concerning it. He endures as seeing that which is invisible, andcherishes the hope that through Christ's redemption his eternity willbe a condition of peace and purity, and that he shall know even as alsohe is known. But it is not the Christian alone who is to enter eternity, and to whomthe exchange of worlds will bring a luminous apprehension of many thingsthat have hitherto been seen only through a glass darkly. Every humancreature may say, when he thinks of the alteration that will come overhis views of religious subjects upon entering another life, "NowI know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. I am nowin the midst of the vapors and smoke of this dim spot which men callearth, but then shall I stand in the dazzling light of the face of God, and labor under no doubt or delusion respecting my own character or thatof my Eternal Judge. " A moment's reflection will convince any one, that the article and fact ofdeath must of itself make a vast accession to the amount of a man'sknowledge, because death introduces him into an entirely new state ofexistence. Foreign travel adds much to our stock of ideas, because we gointo regions of the earth of which we had previously known only by thehearing of the ear. But the great and last journey that man takes carrieshim over into a province of which no book, not even the Bible itself, gives him any distinct cognition, as to the style of its scenery or thetexture of its objects. In respect to any earthly scene or experience, all men stand upon substantially the same level of information, becausethey all have substantially the same data for forming an estimate. ThoughI may never have been in Italy, I yet know that the soil of Italy is apart of the common crust of the globe, that the Apennines are like othermountains which I have seen, that the Italian sunlight pours through thepupil like any other sunlight, and that the Italian breezes fan the browlike those of the sunny south the world over. I understand that thegeneral forms of human consciousness in Europe and Asia, are like thosein America. The operations of the five senses are the same in the OldWorld that they are in the New. But what do I know of the surroundingsand experience of a man who has travelled from time into eternity? Am Inot completely baffled, the moment I attempt to construct theconsciousness of the unearthly state? I have no materials out of which tobuild it, because it is not a world of sense and matter, like that whichI now inhabit. But death carries man over into the new and entirely different mode ofexistence, so that he knows by direct observation and immediateintuition. A flood of new information pours in upon the disembodiedspirit, such as he cannot by any possibility acquire upon earth, and yetsuch as he cannot by any possibility escape from in his new residence. How strange it is, that the young child, the infant of days, in the heartof Africa, by merely dying, by merely passing from time into eternity, acquires a kind and grade of knowledge that is absolutely inaccessibleto the wisest and subtlest philosopher while here on earth![1] The deadHottentot knows more than the living Plato. But not only does the exchange of worlds make a vast addition to ourstores of information respecting the nature of the invisible realm, andthe mode of existence there, it also makes a vast addition to the kindand degree of our knowledge respecting _ourselves_, and our personalrelationships to God. This is by far the most important part of the newacquisition which we gain by the passage from time to eternity, and it isto this that the Apostle directs attention in the text. It is not so muchthe world that will be around us, when we are beyond the tomb, as it isthe world that will be within us, that is of chief importance. Ourcircumstances in this mode of existence, and in any mode of existence, are arranged by a Power above us, and are, comparatively, matters ofsmall concern; but the persons that we ourselves verily are, thecharacters which we bring into this environment, the little inner worldof thought and feeling which is to be inclosed and overarched in thegreat outer world of forms and objects, --all this is matter of infinitemoment and anxiety to a responsible creature. For the text teaches, that inasmuch as the future life is the _ultimate_state of being for an immortal spirit, all that imperfection anddeficiency in knowledge which appertains to this present life, this"ignorant present" time, must disappear. When we are in eternity, weshall not be in the dark and in doubt respecting certain great questionsand truths that sometimes raise a query in our minds here. Voltaire nowknows whether there is a sin-hating God, and David Hume now knows whetherthere is an endless hell. I may, in certain moods of my mind here uponearth, query whether I am accountable and liable to retribution, but theinstant I shall pass from this realm of shadows, all this skepticism willbe banished forever from my mind. For the future state is the _final_state, and hence all questions are settled, and all doubts are resolved. While upon earth, the arrangements are such that we cannot see everything, and must walk by faith, because it is a state of probation; butwhen once in eternity, all the arrangements are such that we cannot butsee every thing, and must walk by sight, because it is the state ofadjudication. Hence it is, that the preacher is continually urging men toview things, so far as is possible, in the light of eternity, as the onlylight that shines clearly and without refractions. Hence it is, that heimportunes his hearers to estimate their duties, and their relationships, and their personal character, as they will upon the death-bed, because inthe solemn hour of death the light of the future state begins to dawnupon the human soul. It is very plain that if a spiritual man like the apostle Paul, who in avery remarkable degree lived with reference to the future world, andcontemplated subjects in the light of eternity, was compelled to say thathe knew but "in part, " much more must the thoughtless natural man confesshis ignorance of that which will meet him when his spirit returns to God. The great mass of mankind are totally vacant of any just apprehension ofwhat will be their state of mind, upon being introduced into God'spresence. They have never seriously considered what must be the effectupon their views and feelings, of an entire withdrawment from the scenesand objects of earth, and an entrance into those of the future state. Most men are wholly engrossed in the present existence, and do not allowtheir thoughts to reach over into that invisible region which revelationdiscloses, and which the uncontrollable workings of conscience sometimes_force_ upon their attention for a moment. How many men there are, whosesinful and thoughtless lives prove that they are not aware that thefuture world will, by its very characteristics, fill them with a speciesand a grade of information that will be misery unutterable. Is it not theduty and the wisdom of all such, to attempt to conjecture and anticipatethe coming experience of the human soul in the day of judgment and thefuture life, in order that by repentance toward God and faith in the LordJesus Christ they may be able to stand in that day? Let us then endeavorto know, at least "in part, " concerning the eternal state. The latter clause of the text specifies the general characteristic ofexistence in the future world. It is a mode of existence in which therational mind "_knows_ even as it is known. " It is a world ofknowledge, --of conscious knowledge. In thus unequivocally asserting thatour existence beyond the tomb is one of distinct consciousness, revelation has taught us what we most desire and need to know. The firstquestion that would be raised by a creature who was just to be launchedout upon an untried mode of existence would be the question: "Shall I be_conscious_?" However much he might desire to know the length and breadthof the ocean upon which his was to set sail, the scenery that was to beabove him and around him in his coming history, --nay, however much hemight wish to know of matters still closer to himself than these; howevermuch he might crave to ask of his Maker, "With what body shall I come?"all would be set second to the simple single inquiry: "Shall I think, shall I feel, shall I know?" In answering this question in theaffirmative, without any hesitation or ambiguity, the apostle Paul hasin reality cleared up most of the darkness that overhangs the futurestate. The structure of the spiritual body, and the fabric of theimmaterial world, are matters of secondary importance, and may be leftwithout explanation, provided only the rational mind of man be distinctlyinformed that it shall not sleep in unconsciousness, and that theimmortal spark shall not become such stuff as dreams are made of. The future, then, is a mode of existence in which the soul "knows even asit is known. " But this involves a perception in which there is no error, and no intermission. For, the human spirit in eternity "is known" by theomniscient God. If, then, it knows in the style and manner that Godknows, there can be no misconception or cessation in its cognition. Here, then, we have a glimpse into the nature of our eternal existence. It is astate of distinct and unceasing knowledge of moral truth and moralobjects. The human spirit, be it holy or sinful, a friend or an enemy ofGod, in eternity will always and forever be aware of it. There is noforgetting in the future state; there is no dissipation of the mindthere; and there is no aversion of the mind from itself. The cognition isa fixed quantity. Given the soul, and the knowledge is given. If it beholy, it is always conscious of the fact. If it be sinful, it cannot foran instant lose the distressing consciousness of sin. In neither instancewill it be necessary, as it generally is in this life, to make a specialeffort and a particular examination, in order to know the personalcharacter. Knowledge of God and His law, in the future life, isspontaneous and inevitable; no creature can escape it; and therefore thebliss is _unceasing_ in heaven, and the misery is _unceasing_ inhell. There are no states of thoughtlessness and unconcern in the futurelife, because there is not an instant of forgetfulness or ignorance ofthe personal character and condition. In the world beyond this, every manwill constantly and distinctly know what he is, and what he is not, because he will "be known" by the omniscient and unerring God, and willhimself know in the same constant and distinct style and manner. If the most thoughtless person that now walks the globe could only have aclear perception of that kind of knowledge which is awaiting him upon theother side of the tomb, he would become the most thoughtful and the mostanxious of men. It would sober him like death itself. And if anyunpardoned man should from this moment onward be haunted with thethought, "When I die I shall enter into the light of God's countenance, and obtain a knowledge of my own character and obligations that will beas accurate and unvarying as that of God himself upon this subject, " hewould find no rest until he had obtained an assurance of the Divinemercy, and such an inward change as would enable him to endure this deepand full consciousness of the purity of God and of the state of hisheart. It is only because a man is unthinking, or because he imaginesthat the future world will be like the present one, only longer induration, that he is so indifferent regarding it. Here is the difficultyof the case, and the fatal mistake which the natural man makes. Hesupposes that the views which he shall have upon religious subjects inthe eternal state, will be very much as they are in this, --vague, indistinct, fluctuating, and therefore causing no very great anxiety. Hecan pass days and weeks here in time without thinking of the claims ofGod upon him, and he imagines that the same thing is possible ineternity. While here upon earth, he certainly does not "know even asalso he is known, " and he hastily concludes that so it will be beyond thegrave. It is because men imagine that eternity is only a very long spaceof _time_, filled up, as time here is, with dim, indistinctapprehensions, with a constantly shifting experience, with shallowfeelings and ever diversified emotions, in fine, with all the _variety_of pleasure and pain, of ignorance and knowledge, that pertains to thisimperfect and probationary life, --it is because mankind thus conceive ofthe final state, that it exerts no more influence over them. But such isnot its true idea. There is a marked difference between the present andthe future life, in respect to uniformity and clearness of knowledge. "Now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known. " Thetext and the whole teaching of the New Testament prove that the invisibleworld is the unchangeable one; that there are no alterations ofcharacter, and consequently no alternations of experience, in the futurelife; that there are no transitions, as there are in this checkered sceneof earth, from happiness to unhappiness and back again. There is but oneuniform type of experience for an individual soul in eternity. That soulis either uninterruptedly happy, or uninterruptedly miserable, because ithas either an uninterrupted sense of holiness, or an uninterrupted senseof sin. He that is righteous is righteous still, and knows itcontinually; and he that is filthy is filthy still, and knows itincessantly. If we enter eternity as the redeemed of the Lord, we takeover the holy heart and spiritual affections of regeneration, and thereis no change but that of progression, --a change, consequently, only indegree, but none of kind or type. The same knowledge and experience thatwe have here "in part" we shall have there in completeness andpermanency. And the same will be true, if the heart be evil and theaffections inordinate and earthly. And all this, simply because themind's knowledge is clear, accurate, and constant. That which thetransgressor knows here of God and his own heart, but imperfectly, andfitfully, and briefly, he shall know there perfectly, and constantly, andeverlastingly. The law of constant evolution, and the characteristic ofunvarying uniformity, will determine and fix the type of experience inthe evil as it does in the good. Such, then, is the general nature of knowledge in the future state. It isdistinct, accurate, unintermittent, and unvarying. We shall know even aswe are known, and we are known by the omniscient and unerring Searcher ofhearts. Let us now apply this general characteristic of cognition ineternity to some particulars. Let us transfer our minds into the futureand final state, and mark what goes on within them there. We ought oftento enter this mysterious realm, and become habituated to its mentalprocesses, and by a wise anticipation become prepared for the realityitself. I. The human mind, in eternity, will have a distinct and unvaryingperception of the _character of God_. And that one particular attributein this character, respecting which the cognition will be of the mostluminous quality, is the Divine holiness. In eternity, the immaculatenessof the Deity will penetrate the consciousness of every rational creaturewith the subtlety and the thoroughness of fire. God's essence isinfinitely pure, and intensely antagonistic to sin, but it is not untilthere is a direct contact between it and the human mind, that manunderstands it and feels it. "I have heard of Thee by the hearing of theear, but now mine eye seeth Thee, and I abhor myself. " Even the best ofmen know but "in part" concerning the holiness of God. Yet it isnoticeable how the apprehension of it grows upon the ripening Christian, as he draws nearer to the time of his departure. The vision of thecherubim themselves seems to dawn upon the soul of a Leighton and anEdwards, and though it does not in the least disturb their saintly andseraphic peace, because they are sheltered in the clefts of the Rock ofAges, as the brightness passes by them, it does yet bring out from theircomparatively holy and spiritual hearts the utterance, "Behold I am vile;infinite upon, infinite is my sin. " But what shall be said of the commonand ordinary knowledge of mankind, upon this subject! Except at certaininfrequent times, the natural man does not know even "in part, "respecting the holiness of God, and hence goes on in transgressionwithout anxiety or terror. It is the very first work of prevenient grace, to disclose to the human mind something of the Divine purity; andwhoever, at any moment, is startled by a more than common sense of God'sholy character, should regard it and cherish it as a token of benevolenceand care for his soul. Now, in eternity this species of knowledge must exist in the very highestdegree. The human soul will be encircled by the character and attributesof God. It cannot look in any direction without beholding it. It is notso here. Here, in this life, man may and does avert his eye, and refuseto look at the sheen and the splendor that pains his organ. He fastenshis glance upon the farm, or the merchandise, or the book, andperseveringly determines not to see the purity of God that rebukes him. And _here_ he can succeed. He can and does live days and months withoutso much as a momentary glimpse of his Maker, and, as the apostle says, is "without God" in this world. And yet such men do have, now and then, aview of the face of God. It may be for an instant only. It may be merelya thought, a gleam, a flash; and yet, like that quick flash of lightning, of which our Lord speaks, that lighteneth out of the one part of heaven, and shineth unto the other part, that cometh out of the East and shinetheven unto the West, --like that swift momentary flash which runs round thewhole horizon in the twinkling of an eye, this swift thought and gleam ofGod's purity fills the whole guilty soul full of light. What spiritualdistress seizes the man in such moments, and of what a penetratingperception of the Divine character is he possessed for an instant! It isa distinct and an accurate knowledge, but, unlike the cognition of thefuture state, it is not yet an inevitable and unintermittent one. He canexpel it, and become again an ignorant and indifferent being, as he wasbefore. He knows but "in part" at the very best, and this onlytemporarily. But carry this rational and accountable creature into eternity, denudehim of the body of sense, and take him out of the busy and noisy world ofsense into the silent world of spirits, and into the immediate presenceof God, and then he will know upon this subject even as he is known. Thatsight and perception of God's purity which he had here for a briefinstant, and which was so painful because he was not in sympathy with it, has now become everlasting. That distinct and accurate knowledge ofGod's character has now become his only knowledge. That flash oflightning has become light, --fixed, steady, permanent as the orb of day. The rational spirit cannot for an instant rid itself of the idea of God. Never for a moment, in the endless cycles, can it look away from itsMaker; for in His presence what other object is there to look at? Timeitself, with its pursuits and its objects of thought and feeling, is nolonger, for the angel hath sworn it by Him who liveth for ever and ever. There is nothing left, then, to occupy and engross the attention but thecharacter and attributes of God; and, now, the immortal mind, created forsuch a purpose, must yield itself up to that contemplation which in thislife it dreaded and avoided. The future state of every man is to be anopen and unavoidable vision of God. If he delights in the view, he willbe blessed; if he loathes it, he will be miserable. This is the substanceof heaven and hell. This is the key to the eternal destiny of every humansoul. If a man love God, he shall gaze at him and adore; if he hate God, he shall gaze at him and gnaw his tongue for pain. The subject, as thus far unfolded, teaches the following lessons: 1. In the first place, it shows that _a false theory of the future statewill not protect a man from future misery_. For, we have seen that theeternal world, by its very structure and influences, throws a flood oflight upon the Divine character, causing it to appear in its ineffablepurity and splendor, and compels every creature to stand out in thatlight. There is no darkness in which man can hide himself, when he leavesthis world of shadows. A false theory, therefore, respecting God, can nomore protect a man from the reality, the actual matter of fact, than afalse theory of gravitation will preserve a man from falling from aprecipice into a bottomless abyss. Do you come to us with the theorythat every human creature will be happy in another life, and that thedoctrine of future misery is false? We tell you, in reply, that God is_holy_, beyond dispute or controversy; that He cannot endure the sight ofsin; and that in the future world every one of His creatures must see Himprecisely as He is, and know Him in the real and eternal qualities of Hisnature. The man, therefore, who is full of sin, whose heart is earthly, sensual, selfish, must, when he approaches that pure Presence, find thathis theory of future happiness shrivels up like the heavens themselves, before the majesty and glory of God. He now stands face to face with aBeing whose character has never dawned upon him with such a dazzlingpurity, and to dispute the reality would be like disputing the fiercesplendor of the noonday sun. Theory must give way to fact, and thedeluded mortal must submit to its awful force. In this lies the _irresistible_ power of death, judgment, and eternity, to alter the views of men. Up to these points they can dispute and argue, because there is no ocular demonstration. It is possible to debate thequestion this side of the tomb, because we are none of us face to facewith God, and front to front with eternity. In the days of Noah, beforethe flood came, there was skepticism, and many theories concerning thethreatened deluge. So long as the sky was clear, and the green earthsmiled under the warm sunlight, it was not difficult for the unbelieverto maintain an argument in opposition to the preacher of righteousness. But when the sky was rent with lightnings, and the earth was scarred withthunder-bolts, and the fountains of the great deep were broken up, wherewas the skepticism? where were the theories? where were the arguments?When God teaches, "Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is thedisputer of this world?" They then knew as they were known; they stoodface to face with the facts. It is this _inevitableness_ of the demonstration upon which we wouldfasten attention. We are not always to live in this world of shadows. Weare going individually into the very face and eyes of Jehovah, andwhatever notions we may have adopted and maintained must all disappear, except as they shall be actually verified by what we shall see and knowin that period of our existence when we shall perceive with the accuracyand clearness of God Himself. Our most darling theories, by which we mayhave sought to solace our souls in reference to our future destiny, iffalse, will be all ruthlessly torn away, and we must see what verily andeternally is. All mankind come upon one doctrinal platform when theyenter eternity. They all have one creed there. There is not a skepticeven in hell. The devils believe and tremble. The demonstration that Godis holy is so irrefragable, so complete and absolute, that doubt ordenial is impossible in any spirit that has passed the line between timeand eternity. 2. In the second place, this subject shows that _indifference andcarelessness respecting the future life will not protect the soul fromfuture misery_. There may be no false theory adopted, and yet if there beno thoughtful preparation to meet God, the result will be all the same. Imay not dispute the Newtonian theory of gravitation, yet if I pay no heedto it, if I simply forget it, as I clamber up mountains, and walk by theside of precipices, my body will as surely be dashed to pieces as if Iwere a theoretical skeptic upon the subject of gravitation. The creature's indifference can no more alter the immutable nature ofGod, than can the creature's false reasoning, or false theorizing. Thatwhich is settled in heaven, that which is fixed and eternal, stands thesame stern, relentless fact under all circumstances. We see the operationof this sometimes here upon earth, in a very impressive manner. A youthor a man simply neglects the laws and conditions of physical well-being. He does not dispute them. He merely pays no attention to them. A. Fewyears pass by, and disease and torturing pain become his portion. Hecomes now into the awful presence of the powers and the facts which theCreator has inlaid in the world, of physical existence. He knows now evenas he is known. And the laws are stern. He finds no place of repentancein them, though he seek it carefully with tears. The laws never repent, never change their mind. The principles of physical life and growth whichhe has never disputed, but which he has never regarded, now crush himinto the ground in their relentless march and motion. Precisely so will it be in the moral world, and with reference to theholiness of God. That man who simply neglects to prepare himself to see aholy God, though he never denies that there is such a Being, will findthe vision just as unendurable to him, as it is to the most determined ofearthly skeptics. So far as the final result in the other world isconcerned, it matters little whether a man adds unbelief to hiscarelessness, or not. The carelessness will ruin his soul, whether withor without skepticism. Orthodoxy is valuable only as it inspires the hopethat it will end in timely and practical attention to the concerns of thesoul. But if you show me a man who you infallibly know will go throughlife careless and indifferent, I will show you a man who will not beprepared to meet God face to face, even though his theology be asaccurate as that of St. Paul himself. Nay, we have seen that there is atime coming when all skeptics will become believers like the devilsthemselves, and will tremble at the ocular demonstration of truths whichthey have heretofore denied. Theoretical unbelief must be a temporaryaffair in every man; for it can last only until he dies. Death will makeall the world theoretically orthodox, and bring them all to one and thesame creed. But death will not bring them all to one and the same happyexperience of the truth, and lave of the creed. For those who have madepreparation for the vision of God and the ocular demonstration of Divinetruth, these will rise upon their view with a blessed and glorious light. But for those who have remained sinful and careless, these eternal truthsand facts will be a vision of terror and despair. They will not alter. Noman will find any place of repentance in them, though, like Esau, he seekit carefully and with tears. 3. In the third place, this subject shows that _only faith in Christ anda new heart can protect the soul from future misery_. The nature andcharacter of God cannot be altered, and therefore the change must bewrought in man's soul. The disposition and affections of the heart mustbe brought into such sweet sympathy and harmony with God's holiness, thatwhen in the next world that holiness shall be revealed as it is to theseraphim, it will fall in upon the soul like the rays of a vernal sun, starting every thing into cheerful life and joy. If the Divine holinessdoes not make this impression, it produces exactly the contrary effect. If the sun's rays do not start the bud in the spring, they kill it. Ifthe vision of a holy God is not our heaven, then it must be our hell. Look then directly into your heart, and tell us which is the impressionfor you. Can you say with David, "We give thanks and rejoice, at theremembrance of Thy holiness?" Are you glad that there is such a pure andimmaculate Being upon the throne, and when His excellence abashes you, and rebukes your corruption and sin, do you say, "Let the righteous Onesmite me, it shall be a kindness?" Do you _love_ God's holy character? Ifso, you are a new creature, and are ready for the vision of God, face toface. For you, to know God even as you are known by Him will not be aterror, but a glory and a joy. You are in sympathy with Him. You havebeen reconciled to Him by the blood of atonement, and brought intoharmony with Him by the washing of regeneration. For you, as a believerin Christ, and a new man in Christ Jesus, all is well. The more you seeof God, the more you desire to see of Him; and the more you know of Him, the more you long to know. But if this is not your experience, then all is ill with you. We say_experience_. You must _feel_ in this manner toward God, or you cannotendure the vision which is surely to break upon you after death. You must_love_ this holiness without which no man can see the Lord. You mayapprove of it, you may praise it in other men, but if there is noaffectionate going out of your own heart toward, the holy God, you arenot in right relations to Him. You have the carnal mind, and that isenmity, and enmity is misery. Look these facts in the eye, and act accordingly. "Make the _tree_ good, and his fruit good, " says Christ. Begin at the beginning. Aim at nothingless than a change of disposition and affections. Ask for nothing less, seek for nothing less. If you become inwardly holy as God is holy; if youbecome a friend of God, reconciled to Him by the blood of Christ; thenyour nature will be like God's nature, your character like God'scharacter. Then, when you shall know God even as you are known by Him, and shall see Him as He is, the knowledge and the vision will beeverlasting joy. [Footnote 1: "She has seen the mystery hid, Under Egypt's pyramid; By those eyelids pale and close, Now she knows what Rhamses knows. " ELIZABETH BROWNING: On the Death of a Child. ] THE FUTURE STATE A SELF-CONSCIOUS STATE. 1 COR. Xiii. 12. --"Now I know in part; but then shall I know even as alsoI am known. " In the preceding discourse, we found in these words the principalcharacteristic of our future existence. The world beyond the tomb is aworld of clear and conscious knowledge. When, at death, I shall leavethis region of time and sense and enter eternity, my knowledge, theapostle Paul tells me instead of being diminished or extinguished by thedissolution, of the body, will not only be continued to me, but will beeven greater and clearer than before. He assures me that the kind andstyle of my cognition will be like that of God himself. I am to know as Iam known. My intelligence will coincide with that of Deity. By this we are not to understand that the creature's knowledge, in thefuture state, will be as extensive as that of the Omniscient One; or thatit will be as profound and exhaustive as His. The infinitude of thingscan be known only by the Infinite Mind; and the creature will forever bemaking new acquisitions, and never reaching the final limit of truths andfacts. But upon certain moral subjects, the perception of the creaturewill be like that of his Maker and Judge, so far as the _kind_ or_quality_ of the apprehension is concerned. Every man in eternity, forillustration, will see sin to be an odious and abominable thing, contraryto the holy nature of God, and awakening in that nature the most holy andawful displeasure. His knowledge upon this subject will be so identicalwith that of God, that he will be unable to palliate or excuse histransgressions, as he does in this world. He will see them precisely asGod sees them. He must know them as God knows them, because he will "knoweven as he is known. " II. In continuing the examination of this solemn subject, we remark as asecond and further characteristic of the knowledge which every man willpossess in eternity, that he will know _himself_ even as he is known byGod. His knowledge of God we have found to be direct, accurate, andunceasing; his knowledge of his own heart will be so likewise. Thisfollows from the relation of the two species of cognition to each other. The true knowledge of God involves the true knowledge of self. Theinstant that any one obtains a clear view of the holy nature of hisMaker, he obtains a clear view of his own sinful nature. Philosopherstell us, that our consciousness of God and our consciousness of selfmutually involve and imply each other[1]; in other words, that we cannotknow God without immediately knowing ourselves, any more than we can knowlight without knowing darkness, any more than we can have the idea ofright without having the idea of wrong. And it is certainly true that sosoon as any being can intelligently say, "God is holy, " he can and mustsay, "I am holy, " or, "I am unholy, " as the fact may be. Indeed, the onlyway in which man can truly know himself is to contrast himself with hisMaker; and the most exhaustive self-knowledge and self-consciousness isto be found, not in the schools of secular philosophy but, in thesearchings of the Christian heart, --in the "Confessions" of Augustine; inthe labyrinthine windings of Edwards "On the Affections. " Hence thefrequent exhortations in the Bible to look at the character of God, inorder that we may know ourselves and be abased by the contrast. Ineternity, therefore, if we must have a clear and constant perception ofGod's character, we must necessarily have a distinct and unvaryingknowledge of our own. It is not so here. Here in this world, man knowshimself but "in part. " Even when he endeavors to look within, prejudiceand passion often affect his judgment; but more often, the fear of whathe shall discover in the secret places of his soul deters him from makingthe attempt at self-examination. For it is a surprising truth that thetransgressor dares not bring out into the light that which is most trulyhis own, that which he himself has originated, and which he loves andcherishes with all his strength and might. He is afraid of his own heart!Even when God forces the vision of it upon him, he would shut his eyes;or if this be not possible, he would look through distorting media andsee it with a false form and coloring. "But 'tis not so above; There is no shuffling; there the action lies In his true nature: and we ourselves compelled, Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, To give in evidence. "[2] The spirit that has come into the immediate presence of God, and beholdsHim face to face, cannot deceive Him, and therefore cannot deceiveitself. It cannot remain ignorant of God's character any longer, andtherefore cannot remain ignorant of its own. We do not sufficiently consider and ponder the elements of anguish thatare sleeping in the fact that in eternity a sinner _must_ know God'scharacter, and therefore _must_ know his own. It is owing to theirneglect of such subjects, that mankind so little understand what an awfulpower there is in the distinct perception of the Divine purity, and theallied consciousness of sin. Lord Bacon tells us that the knowledgeacquired in the schools is power; but it is weakness itself, if comparedwith that form and species of cognition which is given to the mind of manby the workings of conscience in the light of the Divine countenance. Ifa transgressor knew clearly what disclosures of God's immaculateness andof his own character must be made to him in eternity, he would fear them, if unprepared, far more than physical sufferings. If he understood whatcapabilities for distress the rational spirit possesses in its ownmysterious constitution, if when brought into contact with the Divinepurity it has no sympathy with it, but on the contrary an intensehostility; if he knew how violent will be the antagonism between God'sholiness and man's sin when, the two are finally brought together, theassertion that there is no external source of anguish in hell, even if itwere true, would afford him no relief. Whoever goes into the presence ofGod with a corrupt heart carries thither a source of sorrow that isinexhaustible, simply because that corrupt heart must be _distinctlyknown_, and _perpetually understood_ by its possessor, in that Presence. The thoughtless man may never know while upon earth, even "in part, " thedepth and the bitterness of this fountain, --he may go through this lifefor the most part self-ignorant and undistressed, --but he must know inthat other, final, world the immense fulness of its woe, as itunceasingly wells up into everlasting death. One theory of futurepunishment is, that our globe will become a penal orb of fire, and thewicked with material bodies, miraculously preserved by Omnipotence, willburn forever in it. But what is this compared with the suffering soul?The spirit itself, thus alienated from God's purity and _conscious_ thatit is, wicked, and _knowing_ that it is wicked, becomes an "orb of fire. ""It is, "--says John Howe, who was no fanatic, but one of the mostthoughtful and philosophic of Christians, --"it is a throwing hell intohell, when a wicked man comes to hell; for he was his own hellbefore. "[3] It must ever be borne in mind, that the principal source and seat offuture torment will be the sinner's _sin_. We must never harbor thethought, or fall into the notion, that the retributions of eternity are awanton and arbitrary infliction upon the part of God. Some men seem tosuppose, or at any rate they represent, that the woes of hell are aspecies of undeserved suffering; that God, having certain helpless andinnocent creatures in His power, visits them with wrath, in the exerciseof an arbitrary sovereignty. But this is not Christ's doctrine of endlesspunishment. There is no suffering inflicted, here or hereafter, upon anything but _sin, _--unrepented, incorrigible sin, --and if you will showme a sinless creature, I will show you one who will never feel the leasttwinge or pang through all eternity. Death is the wages of _sin_. Thesubstance of the wretchedness of the lost will issue right out of theirown character. They will see their own wickedness steadily and clearly, and this will make them miserable. It will be the carrying out of thesame principle that operates here in time, and in our own dailyexperience. Suppose that by some method, all the sin of my heart, and allthe sins of my outward conduct, were made clear to my own view; supposethat for four-and-twenty hours continuously I were compelled to look atmy wickedness intently, just as I would look intently into a burningfurnace of fire; suppose that for this length of time I should seenothing, and hear nothing, and experience nothing of the world, about me, but should be absorbed in the vision of my own disobedience of God's goodlaw, think you that (setting aside the work of Christ) I should be happy?On the contrary, should I not be the most wretched of mortals? Would notthis self-knowledge be pure living torment? And yet the misery springsentirely out of the _sin_. There is nothing arbitrary or wanton in thesuffering. It is not brought in upon me from the outside. It comes out ofmyself. And, while I was writhing under the sense and power of mytransgressions, would you mock me, by telling me that I was a poorinnocent struggling in the hands of omnipotent malice; that the sufferingwas unjust, and that if there were any justice in the universe, I shouldbe delivered from it? No, we shall suffer in the future world only as weare sinners, and because we are sinners. There will be weeping andwailing and gnashing of teeth, only because the sinful creature will becompelled to look at himself; to know his sin in the same manner that itis known by the Infinite Intelligence. And is there any injustice inthis? If a sinful being cannot bear the sight of himself, would you havethe holy Deity step in between him and his sins, so that he should notsee them, and so that he might be happy in them? Away with such folly andsuch wickedness. For it is the height of wickedness to desire that somemethod should be invented, and introduced into the universe of God, whereby the wages of sin shall be life and joy; whereby a sinner can lookinto his own wicked heart and be happy. III. A third characteristic of the knowledge which every man will possessin eternity will be a clear understanding of _the nature and wants of thesoul. _ Man has that in his constitution, which needs God, and whichcannot be at rest except in God. A state of sin is a state of alienationand separation from the Creator. It is, consequently, in its intrinsicnature, a state of restlessness and dissatisfaction. "There is no peacesaith my God to the wicked; the wicked are like the troubled sea. " Inorder to know this, it is only necessary to bring an apostate creature, like man, to a consciousness of the original requirements and necessitiesof his being. But upon this subject, man while upon earth most certainlyknows only "in part. " Most men are wholly ignorant of the constitutionalneeds of a rational spirit, and are not aware that it is as impossiblefor the creature, when in eternity, to live happily out of God, as it isfor the body to live at all in the element of fire. Most men, while hereupon earth, do not know upon this subject as they are known. God knowsthat the whole created universe cannot satisfy the desires of an immortalbeing, but impenitent men do not know this fact with a clear perception, and they will not until they die and go into another world. And the reason is this. So long as the worldly natural man lives uponearth, he can find a sort of substitute for God. He has a capacity forloving, and he satisfies it to a certain degree by loving himself; byloving fame, wealth, pleasure, or some form of creature-good. He has acapacity for thinking, and he gratifies it in a certain manner bypondering the thoughts of other minds, or by original speculations of hisown. And so we might go through with the list of man's capacities, and weshould find, that he contrives, while here upon earth, to meet theseappetences of his nature, after a sort, by the objects of time and sense, and to give his soul a species of satisfaction short of God, and awayfrom God. Fame, wealth, and pleasure; the lust of the flesh, the lust ofthe eye, and the pride of life; become a substitute for the Creator, inhis search, for happiness. As a consequence, the unregenerate man knowsbut "in part" respecting the primitive and constitutional necessities ofhis being. He is feeding them with a false and unhealthy food, and inthis way manages to stifle for a season their true and deep cravings. Butthis cannot last forever. When a man dies and goes into eternity, hetakes nothing with him but his character and his moral affinities. "Webrought nothing into this world, and it is certain that we can carrynothing out. " The original requirements and necessities of his soul arenot destroyed by death, but the earthly objects by which he sought tomeet them, and by which he did meet them after a sort, are totallydestroyed. He still has a capacity for loving; but in eternity where isthe fame, the wealth, the pleasure upon which he has hitherto expendedit? He still has a capacity for thinking; but where are the farm, themerchandise, the libraries, the works of art, the human literatures, andthe human philosophies, upon which he has heretofore employed it? Theinstant you cut off a creature who seeks his good in the world, and notin God, from intercourse with the world, you cause him to know even as heis known respecting the true and proper portion of his soul. Deprived ofhis accustomed and his false object of love and support, he immediatelybegins to reach out in all directions for something to love, something tothink of, something to trust in, and finds nothing. Like that insect inour gardens which spins a slender thread by which to guide itself in itsmeanderings, and which when the clew is cut thrusts out its head in everydirection, but does not venture to advance, the human creature who hassuddenly been cut off by death from his accustomed objects of support andpleasure stretches out in every direction for something to take theirplace. And the misery of his case is, that when in his reachings out hesees God, or comes into contact with God, he starts back like the littleinsect when you present a coal of fire to it. He needs as much as ever, to love some being or some thing. But he has no heart to love God andthere is no other being and no other thing in eternity to love. He needs, as much as ever, to think of some object or some subject. But to think ofGod is a distress to him; to reflect upon divine and holy things isweariness and woe. He is a carnal, earthly-minded man, and thereforecannot find enjoyment in such meditations. Before he can take relish insuch objects and such thinking, he must be born again; he must become anew creature. But there is no new-birth of the soul in eternity. Thedisposition and character which a man takes along with him when he diesremains eternally unchanged. The constitutional wants still continue. Theman must love, and must think. But the only object in eternity upon whichsuch capability can be expended is God; and the carnal mind, saith theScripture, is _enmity_ against God, and is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be. Now, whatever may be the course of a man in this life; whether he becomesaware of these created imperatives, and constitutional necessities of hisimmortal spirit or not; whether he hears its reproaches and rebukesbecause he is feeding them with the husks of earth, instead of the breadof heaven, or not; it is certain that in the eternal world they will becontinually awake and perpetually heard. For that spiritual world will befitted up for nothing but a rational spirit. There will be nothingmaterial, nothing like earth, in its arrangements. Flesh and blood cannotinherit either the kingdom of God or the kingdom of Satan. The enjoymentsand occupations of this sensuous and material state will be found neitherin heaven nor in hell. Eternity is a spiritual region, and all itsobjects, and all its provisions, will have reference solely to theoriginal capacities and destination of a spiritual creature. They will, therefore, all be terribly reminiscent of apostasy; only serving toremind the soul of what it was originally designed to be, and of what ithas now lost by worshipping and loving the creature more than theCreator. How wretched then must man be, when, with the awakening of thisrestlessness and dissatisfaction of an immortal spirit, and with thebright pattern of what he ought to be continually before his eye, thereis united an intensity of self-love and enmity toward God, that driveshim anywhere and everywhere but to his Maker, for peace and comfort. Howfull of woe must the lost creature be, when his immortal necessities areawakened and demand their proper food, but cannot obtain it, because ofthe aversion of the heart toward the only Being who can satisfy them. For, the same hatred of holiness, and disinclination toward spiritualthings, which prevents a man from choosing God for his portion here, will prevent him hereafter. It is the bold fancy of an imaginativethinker, [4] that the material forces which lie beneath external natureare conscious of being bound down and confined under the crust of theearth, like the giant Enceladus under Mt. Etna, and that there are timeswhen they roar from the depths where they are in bondage, and call aloudfor freedom; when they rise in their might, and manifest themselves inthe earthquake and the volcano. It will be a more fearful and terrificstruggle, when the powers of an apostate being are roused in eternity;when the then eternal sin and guilt has its hour of triumph, and theeternal reason and conscience have their hour of judgment and remorse;when the inner world of man's spirit, by this schism and antagonismwithin it, has a devastation and a ruin spread over it more awful thanthat of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. We have thus, in this and the preceding discourse, considered the kindand quality of that knowledge which every human being will possess in theeternal world. He will know God, and he will know himself, with adistinct, and accurate, and unceasing intelligence like that of theDeity. It is one of the most solemn and startling themes that can bepresented to the human mind. We have not been occupied with what will be_around_ a creature, what will be _outside_ of a man, in the life tocome; but we have been examining what will be _within_ him. We have beenconsidering what he will think of beyond the tomb; what his own feelingswill be when he meets God face to face. But a man's immediateconsciousness determines his happiness or his misery. As a man thinkethin his heart so is he. We must not delude ourselves with the notion, thatthe mere arrangements and circumstances of the spiritual world willdecide our weal or our woe, irrespective of the tenor of our thoughts andaffections; that if we are only placed in pleasant gardens or in goldenstreets, all will be well. As a man thinketh in his heart, so will he bein his experience. This vision of God, and of our own hearts, will beeither the substance of heaven, or the substance of hell. The greatfuture is a world of open vision. Now, we see through a glass darkly, butthen, face to face. The vision for every human creature will be beatific, if he is prepared for it; will be terrific, if he is unprepared. Does not the subject, then, speak with solemn warning to every one whoknows that he is not prepared for the coming revelations that will bemade to him when he dies; for this clear and accurate knowledge of God, and of his own character? Do you believe that there is an eternal world, and that the general features of this mode of existence have beenscripturally depicted? Do you suppose that your present knowledge of theholiness of God, and of your own sinful nature, is equal to what it willbe when your spirit returns to God who gave it? Are you prepared for theimpending and inevitable disclosures and revelations of the day ofjudgment? Do you believe that Jesus Christ is the Eternal Son of God, whocame forth from eternity eighteen centuries since, and went back intoeternity, leaving upon record for human instruction an unexaggerateddescription of that invisible world, founded upon the personal knowledgeof an eye-witness? Whoever thus believes, concerning the record which Christ and Hisapostles have left for the information of dim-eyed mortals who see only"through a glass darkly, " and who know only "in part, " ought immediatelyto adopt their descriptions and ponder them long and well. We havealready observed, that the great reason why the future state exerts solittle influence over worldly men lies in the fact, that they do notbring it into distinct view. They live absorbed in the interests andoccupations of earth, and their future abode throws in upon them none ofits solemn shadows and warnings. A clear luminous perception of thenature and characteristics of that invisible world which is soon toreceive them, would make them thoughtful and anxious for their souls; forthey would become aware of their utter unfitness, their entire lack ofpreparation, to see God face to face. Still, live and act as sinful menmay, eternity is over and around them all, even as the firmament is bentover the globe. If theirs were a penitent and a believing eye, they wouldlook up with adoration into its serene depths, and joyfully behold thesoft gleam of its stars, and it would send down upon them the sweetinfluences of its constellations. They may shut their eyes upon all thisglory, and feel only earthly influences, and continue to be "of theearth, earthy. " But there is a time coming when they cannot but look ateternity; when this firmament will throw them into consternation by thelivid glare of its lightnings, and will compel them to hear the quickrattle and peal of its thunder; when it will not afford them a vision ofglory and joy, as it will the redeemed and the holy, but one of despairand destruction. There is only one shelter from this storm; there is only one covert fromthis tempest. He, and only he, who trusts in Christ's blood of atonement, will be able to look into the holy countenance of God, and upon the dreadrecord of his own sins, without either trembling or despair. The meritsand righteousness of Christ so clothe the guilty soul, that it can endurethe otherwise intolerable brightness of God's pure throne and presence. "Jesus! Thy blood and righteousness, My beauty are, my glorious dress; Mid flaming worlds, in these arrayed, With joy shall I lift up my head. " Amidst those great visions that are to dawn upon every human creature, those souls will be in perfect peace who trust in the Great Propitiation. In those great tempests that are to shake down the earth and the sky, those hearts will be calm and happy who are hid in the clefts of the Rockof Ages. Flee then to Christ, ye prisoners of hope. Make preparation toknow even as you are known, by repentance toward God and faith in theLord Jesus Christ. A voice comes to you out of the cloud, saying, "Thisis my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye Him. " Remember, andforget not, that this knowledge of God and your own heart is_inevitable. _ At death, it will all of it flash upon the soul likelightning at midnight. It will fill the whole horizon of your being fullof light. If you are in Christ Jesus, the light will not harm you. But ifyou are out of Christ, it will blast you. No sinful mortal can enduresuch a vision an instant, except as he is sprinkled with atoning blood, and clothed in the righteousness of the great Substitute and Surety forguilty man. Flee then to CHRIST, and so be prepared to know God and yourown heart, even as you are known. [Footnote 1: Noverim me, noverim Te. --BERNARD. ] [Footnote 2: Shakespeare: Hamlet, Act III. , Sc. 4. ] [Footnote 3: Howe: On Regeneration. Sermon xliii. ] [Footnote 4: Bookschammer: On the Will. ] GOD'S EXHAUSTIVE KNOWLEDGE OF MAN. PSALM cxxxix. I-6. --"O Lord, thou hast searched me, and known me. Thouknowest my down-sitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thoughtafar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquaintedwith, all my ways. For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether. Thou, hast beset me behind and before, andlaid thine hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it ishigh, I cannot attain unto it. " One of the most remarkable characteristics of a rational being is thepower of self-inspection. The brute creation possesses many attributesthat are common to human nature, but it has no faculty that bears eventhe remotest resemblance to that of self-examination. Instinctive action, undoubtedly, approaches the nearest of any to human action. Thatwonderful power by which the bee builds up a structure that is notexceeded in accuracy, and regularity, and economy of space, by the bestgeometry of Athens or of Rome; by which the beaver, after having chosenthe very best possible location for it on the stream, constructs a damthat outlasts the work of the human engineer; by which the faithful dogcontrives to perform many acts of affection, in spite of obstacles, andin the face of unexpected discouragements, --the _instinct_, we say, ofthe brute creation, as exhibited in a remarkably wide range of action andcontrivance, and in a very varied and oftentimes perplexing conjunctureof circumstances, seems to bring man and beast very near to each other, and to furnish some ground for the theory of the materialist, that thereis no essential difference between the two species of existences. Butwhen we pass beyond the mere power of acting, to the additional power of_surveying_ or _inspecting_ an act, and of forming an estimate of itsrelations to moral law, we find a faculty in man that makes him differ inkind from the brute. No brute animal, however high up the scale, howeveringenious and sagacious he may be, can ever look back and think of whathe has done, "his thoughts the meanwhile accusing or else excusing him. " The mere power of performance, is, after all, not the highest power. Itis the superadded power of calmly looking over the performance, andseeing _what_ has been done, that marks the higher agency, and denotes aloftier order of existence than that of the animal or of material nature. If the mere ability to work with energy, and produce results, constitutedthe highest species of power, the force of gravitation would be theloftiest energy in the universe. Its range of execution is wider thanthat of any other created principle. But it is one of the lower and leastimportant of agencies, because it is blind. It is destitute of the powerof self-inspection. It does not know _what_ it does, or _why_. "Man, "says Pascal, [1] "is but a reed, and the weakest in all nature; yet he isa reed that _thinks_. The whole material universe does not need to armitself, in order to crush him. A vapor, a drop of water is enough todestroy him. But if the whole universe of matter should combine to crushhim, man would be more noble than that which destroyed him. For he wouldbe _conscious_ that he was dying, while, of the advantage which thematerial universe had obtained over him, that universe would knownothing. " The action of a little child is altogether nothing and vanitycompared with the energy of the earthquake or the lightning, so far asthe exhibition of force and the mere power to act is concerned; but, onthe other hand, it is more solemn than centuries of merely naturalprocesses, and more momentous than all the material phenomena that haveever filled the celestial spaces, when we remember that it is the act ofa thinking agent, and a self-conscious creature. The power to _survey_the act, when united with the power to act, sets mind infinitely abovematter, and places the action of instinct, wonderful as it is, infinitelybelow the action of self-consciousness. The proud words of one of thecharacters in the old drama are strictly true: "I am a nobler substance than the stars, Or are they better since they are bigger? I have a will and faculties of choice, To do or not to do; and reason why I do or not do this: the stars have none. They know not why they shine, more than this taper, Nor how they, work, nor what. "[2] But this characteristic of a rational being, though thus distinctive andcommon to every man that lives, is exceedingly marvellous. Like the airwe breathe, like the light we see, it involves a mystery that no man hasever solved. Self-consciousness has been the problem and the thorn of thephilosophic mind in all ages; and the mystery is not yet unravelled. Isnot that a wonderful process by which a man knows, not some other thingbut, _himself_? Is not that a strange act by which he, for a time, duplicates his own unity, and sets himself to look at himself? All otheracts of consciousness are comparatively plain and explicable. When welook at an object other than ourselves, --when we behold a tree or thesky, --the act of knowledge is much more simple and easy to be explained. For then there is something outside of us, and in front of us, andanother thing than we are, at which we look, and which we behold. But inthis act of _self_-inspection there is no second thing, external, andextant to us, which we contemplate. That which is seen is one and thesame identical object with that which sees. The act of knowledge which inall other instances requires the existence of two things, --a thing to beknown and a thing to know, --in this instance is performed with only one. It is the individual soul that sees, and it is that very same individualsoul that is seen. It is the individual man that knows, and it is thatvery identical man that is known. The eyeball looks at the eyeball. And when this power of self-inspection is connected with the power ofmemory, the mystery of human existence becomes yet more complicated, andits explanation still more baffling. Is it not exceedingly wonderful, that we are able to re-exhibit our own thoughts and feelings; that we cancall back what has gone clear by in our experience, and steadily look atit once more? Is it not a mystery that we can summon before our mind'seye feelings, purposes, desires, and thoughts, which occurred in the soullong years ago, and which, perhaps, until this moment, we have notthought of for years? Is it not a marvel, that they come up with all thevividness with which they first took origin in our experience, and thatthe lapse of time has deprived them of none of their first outlines orcolors? Is it not strange, that we can recall that one particular feelingof hatred toward a fellow-man which, rankled in the heart twenty yearsago; that we can now eye it, and see it as plainly as if it were stillthrobbing within us; that we can feel guilty for it once more, as if wewere still cherishing it? If it were not so common, would it not besurprising, that we can reflect upon acts of disobedience toward Godwhich we committed in the days of childhood, and far back in the dimtwilights of moral agency; that we can re-act them, as it were, in ourmemory, and fill ourselves again with the shame and distress thatattended their original commission? Is it not one of those mysterieswhich overhang human existence, and from which that of the brute iswholly free, that man can live his life, and act his agency, over, and over, and over again, indefinitely and forever, in hisself-consciousness; that he can cause all his deeds to pass and re-passbefore his self-reflection, and be filled through and through with theagony of self-knowledge? Truly _such_ knowledge is too wonderful for me;it is high, I cannot attain unto it. Whither shall I _go_ from my _own_spirit, and whither shall I flee from my _own_ presence. If I ascend upinto heaven, it is there looking at me. If I make my bed in hell, beholdit is there torturing me. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell inthe uttermost parts of the sea, even there must I know myself, and acquitor condemn myself. But if that knowledge whereby man knows himself is mysterious, thencertainly that whereby God knows him is far more so. That act whereby_another_ being knows my secret thoughts, and inmost feelings, is mostcertainly inexplicable. That cognition whereby _another_ personunderstands what takes place in the corners of my heart, and sees theminutest movements of my spirit, is surely high; most surely I cannotattain unto it. And yet, it is a truth of revelation that God searches the heart of man;that He knows his down-sitting and uprising, and understands his thoughtafar off; that He compasses his path and his lying-down, and isacquainted with all his ways. And yet, it is a deduction of reason, also, that because God is the creator of the human mind, He must perfectlyunderstand its secret agencies; that He in whose Essence man lives andmoves and has his being, must behold every motion, and feel everystirring of the human spirit. "He that planted the ear, shall He nothear? He that formed the eye, shall He not see?" Let us, then, ponder thefact of God's exhaustive knowledge of man's soul, that we may realize it, and thereby come under its solemn power and impression. For all religion, all holy and reverential fear of God, rises and sets, as in anatmosphere, in the thought: "Thou God seest me. " I. In analyzing and estimating the Divine knowledge of the human soul, wefind, in the first place, that God accurately and exhaustively knows _allthat man knows of himself_. Every man in a Christian land, who is in the habit of frequenting thehouse of God, possesses more or less of that self-knowledge of which wehave spoken. He thinks of the moral character of some of his ownthoughts. He reflects upon the moral quality of some of his own feelings. He considers the ultimate tendency of some of his own actions. In otherwords, there is a part of his inward and his outward life with which heis uncommonly well acquainted; of which he has a distinct perception. There are some thoughts of his mind, at which he blushes at the very timeof their origin, because he is vividly aware what they are, and what theymean. There are some emotions of his heart, at which he trembles andrecoils at the very moment of their uprising, because he perceivesclearly that they involve a very malignant depravity. There are someactings of his will, of whose wickedness he is painfully conscious at thevery instant of their rush and movement. We are not called upon, here, tosay how many of a man's thoughts, feelings, and determinations, are thussubjected to his self-inspection at the very time of their origin, andare known in the clear light of self-knowledge. We are not concerned, atthis point, with the amount of this man's self-inspection andself-knowledge. We are only saying that there is some experience such asthis in his personal history, and that he does know something of himself, at the very time of action, with a clearness and a distinctness thatmakes him start, or blush, or fear. Now we say, that in reference to all this intimate self-knowledge, allthis best part of a man's information respecting himself, he is notsuperior to God. He may be certain that in no particular does he knowmore of himself than the Searcher of hearts knows. He may be anuncommonly thoughtful person, and little of what is done within his soulmay escape his notice, --nay, we will make the extreme supposition that hearrests every thought as it rises, and looks at it, that he analyzesevery sentiment as it swells his heart, that he scrutinizes every purposeas it determines his will, --even if he should have such a thorough andprofound self-knowledge as this, God knows him equally profoundly, andequally thoroughly. Nay more, this process of self-inspection may go onindefinitely, and the man may grow more and more thoughtful, and obtainan everlastingly augmenting knowledge of what he is and what he does, sothat it shall seem to him that he is going down so far along that pathwhich the vulture's eye hath not seen, is penetrating so deeply intothose dim and shadowy regions of consciousness where the external lifetakes its very first start, as to be beyond the reach of any eye, andthe ken of any intelligence but his own, and then he may be sure that Godunderstands the thought that is afar off, and deep down, and that at thislowest range and plane in his experience He besets him behind and before. O, this man, like the most of mankind, may be an unreflecting person. Then, in this case, thoughts, feelings, and purposes are continuallyrising up within his soul like the clouds and exhalations of anevaporating deluge, and at the time of their rise he subjects them to noscrutiny of conscience, and is not pained in the least by their moralcharacter and significance. He lacks self-knowledge altogether, at thesepoints in his history. But, notice that the fact that he is notself-inspecting at these points cannot destroy the fact that he is actingat them. The fact that he is not a spectator of his own transgression, does not alter the fact that he is the author of it. If this man, forinstance, thinks over his worldly affairs on God's holy day, and perhapsin God's holy house, with such an absorption and such a pleasure that heentirely drowns the voice of conscience while he is so doing, andself-inspection is banished for the time, it will not do for him to pleadthis absence of a distinct and painful consciousness of what his mind wasactually doing in the house of God, and upon the Lord's day, as thepalliative and excuse of his wrong thoughts. If this man, again, indulgesin an envious or a sensual emotion, with such an energy and entireness, as for the time being to preclude all action of the higher powers ofreason and self-reflection, so that for the time being he is not in theleast troubled by a sense of his wickedness, it will be no excuse for himat the eternal bar, that he was not thinking of his envy or his lust atthe time when he felt it. And therefore it is, that accountablenesscovers the whole field of human agency, and God holds us responsiblefor our thoughtless sin, as well as for our deliberate transgression. In the instance, then, of the thoughtless man; in the case where there islittle or no self-examination; God unquestionably knows the man as wellas the man knows himself. The Omniscient One is certainly possessed of anamount of knowledge equal to that small modicum which is all that arational and immortal soul can boast of in reference to itself. But thevast majority of mankind fall into this class. The self-examiners arevery few, in comparison with the millions who possess the power to lookinto their hearts, but who rarely or never do so. The great God ourJudge, then, surely knows the mass of men, in their down-sitting anduprising, with a knowledge that is equal to their own. And thus do weestablish our first position, that God knows all that the man knows;God's knowledge is equal to the very best part of man's knowledge. In concluding this part of the discussion, we turn to consider somepractical lessons suggested by it. 1. In the first place, the subject reminds us that _we are fearfully andwonderfully made_. When we take a solar microscope and examine even thecommonest object--a bit of sand, or a hair of our heads-we are amazed atthe revelation that is made to us. We had no previous conception of thewonders that are contained in the structure of even such ordinary thingsas these. But, if we should obtain a corresponding view of our own mentaland moral structure; if we could subject our immortal natures to amicroscopic self-examination; we should not only be surprised, but weshould be terrified. This explains, in part, the consternation with whicha criminal is filled, as soon as he begins to understand the nature ofhis crime. His wicked act is perceived in its relation to his own mentalpowers and faculties. He knows, now, what a hazardous thing it is topossess a free-will; what an awful thing it is to own a conscience. Hefeels, as he never did before, that he is fearfully and wonderfully made, and cries out: "O that I had never been born! O that I had never beencreated a responsible being! these terrible faculties of reason, andwill, and conscience, are too heavy for me to wield; would that I hadbeen created a worm, and no man, then, I should not have incurred thehazards under which I have sinned and ruined myself. " The constitution of the human soul is indeed a wonderful one; and such ameditation as that which we have just devoted to its functions ofself-examination and memory, brief though it be, is enough to convince usof it. And remember, that this constitution is not peculiar to you and tome. It belongs to every human creature on the globe. The imbruted paganin the fiery centre of Africa, who never saw a Bible, or heard of theRedeemer; the equally imbruted man, woman, or child, who dwells in theslime of our own civilization, not a mile from where we sit, and hear thetidings of mercy; the filthy savage, and the yet filthier profligate, areboth of them alike with ourselves possessed of these awful powers ofself-knowledge and of memory. Think of this, ye earnest and faithful laborers in the vineyard of theLord. There is not a child that you allure into your Sabbath Schools, andyour Mission Schools, that is not fearfully and wonderfully made; andwhose marvellous powers you are doing much to render to their possessor ablessing, instead of a curse. When Sir Humphrey Davy, in answer to aninquiry that had been made of him respecting the number and series of hisdiscoveries in chemistry, had gone through with the list, he added: "Butthe greatest of my discoveries is Michael Faraday. " This Michael Faradaywas a poor boy employed in the menial services of the laboratory whereDavy made those wonderful discoveries by which he revolutionized thescience of chemistry, and whose chemical genius he detected, elicited, and encouraged, until he finally took the place of his teacher andpatron, and acquired a name that is now one of the influences of England. Well might he say: "My greatest discovery was when I detected thewonderful powers of Michael Faraday. " And never will you make a greaterand more beneficent discovery, than when, under the thick scurf ofpauperism and vice, you detect the human soul that is fearfully andwonderfully made; than when you elicit its powers of self-consciousnessand of memory, and, instrumentally, dedicate them to the service ofChrist and the Church. 2. In the second place, we see from the subject, that _thoughtlessness insin will never excuse sin_. There are degrees in sin. A deliberate, self-conscious act of sin is the most intense form of moral evil. When aman has an active conscience; when he distinctly thinks over the nature ofthe transgression which he is tempted to commit; when he sees clearlythat it is a direct violation of a command of God which he is about toengage in; when he says, "I know that this is positively forbiddenby my Maker and Judge, but I _will do it_, "--we have an instance of themost heaven-daring sin. This is deliberate and wilful transgression. Theservant knows his lord's will and does it not, and he shall be beatenwith "many stripes, " says Christ. But, such sin as this is not the usual form. Most of human transgressionsare not accompanied with such a distinct apprehension, and such adeliberate determination. The sin of ignorance and thoughtlessness is thespecies which is most common. Men, generally, do not first think of whatthey are about to do, and then proceed to do it; but they first proceedto do it, and then think nothing at all about it. But, thoughtlessnesswill not excuse sin; though, it is a somewhat less extreme form of it, than deliberate transgression. Under the Levitical law, the sin ofignorance, as it was called, was to be expiated by a somewhat differentsacrifice from that offered for the wilful and deliberate sin; but itmust be expiated. A victim must be offered for it. It was guilt beforeGod, and needed atonement. Our Lord, in His prayer for His murderers, said, "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do. " The act ofcrucifying the Lord of glory was certainly a sin, and one of an awfulnature. But the authors of it were not fully aware of its import. Theydid not understand the dreadful significance of the crucifixion of theSon of God, as we now understand it, in the light of eighteen centuries. Our Lord alludes to this, as a species of mitigation; while yet Heteaches, by the very prayer which He puts up for them, that thisignorance did not excuse His murderers. He asks that they may be_forgiven_. But where there is absolutely no sin there is no need offorgiveness. It is one of our Lord's assertions, that it will be moretolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah, in the day of judgment, than it will befor those inhabitants of Palestine who would not hear the words of Hisapostles, --because the sin of the former was less deliberate and wilfulthan that of the latter. But He would not have us infer from this, thatSodom and Gomorrah are not to be punished for sin. And, finally, He sumsup the whole doctrine upon this point, in the declaration, that "he whoknew his master's will and did it not shall be beaten with many stripes;but he who knew not his master's will and did it not shall be beaten withfew stripes. " The sin of thoughtlessness shall be beaten with fewerstripes than the sin of deliberation, --but it shall be _beaten_, andtherefore it is _sin_. The almost universal indifference and thoughtlessness with which men liveon in a worldly and selfish life, will not excuse them in the day ofaccurate accounts. And the reason is, that they are capable of _thinking_upon the law of God; of _thinking_ upon their duties; of _thinking_ upontheir sins. They possess the wonderful faculties of self-inspection andmemory, and therefore they are capable of bringing their actions intolight. It is the command of God to every man, and to every rationalspirit everywhere, to walk in the light, and to be a child of the light. We ought to examine ourselves; to understand our ruling motives andabiding purposes; to scrutinize our feelings and conduct. But if we dolittle or nothing of this, we must not expect that in the day of judgmentwe can plead our thoughtless ignorance of what we were, and what we did, here upon earth, as an excuse for our disobedience. God expects, anddemands, that every one of His rational creatures should be all that heis capable of being. He gave man wonderful faculties and endowments, --tentalents, five talents, two talents, --and He will require the wholeoriginal sum given, together with a faithful use and improvement of it. The very thoughtlessness then, particularly under the Gospeldispensation, --the very neglect and non-use of the power ofself-inspection, --will go in to constitute a part of the sin that will bepunished. Instead of being an excuse, it will be an element of thecondemnation itself. 3. In the third place, even the sinner himself _ought to rejoice in thefact that God is the Searcher of the heart_. It is instinctive andnatural, that a transgressor should attempt to conceal his characterfrom his Maker; but next to his sin itself, it would be the greatestinjury that he could do to himself, should he succeed in his attempt. Even after the commission of sin, there is every reason for desiring thatGod should compass our path and lying down, and be acquainted with allour ways. For, He is the only being who can forgive sin; the only one whocan renew and sanctify the heart. There is the same motive for having thedisease of the soul understood by God, that there is for having thedisease of the body examined by a skilful physician. Nothing is gained, but every thing is lost, by ignorance. The sinner, therefore, has the strongest of motives for rejoicing in thetruth that God sees him. It ought not to be an unwelcome fact even tohim. For how can his sin be pardoned, unless it is clearly understood bythe pardoning power? How can his soul be purified from its inwardcorruption, unless it is searched by the Spirit of all holiness? Instead, therefore, of being repelled by such a solemn truth as thatwhich we have been discussing, even the natural man should be allured byit. For it teaches him that there is help for him in God. His ownknowledge of his own heart, as we have seen, is very imperfect and veryinadequate. But the Divine knowledge is thoroughly adequate. He may, therefore, devolve his case with confidence upon the unerring One. Lethim take words upon his lips, and cry unto Him: "Search me, O God, andtry me; and see what evil ways there are in me, and lead me in the wayeverlasting. " Let him endeavor to come into possession of the Divineknowledge. There is no presumption in this. God desires that he shouldknow himself as He knows him; that he should get possession of His viewsupon this point; that he should see himself as He sees him. One of theprincipal sins which God has to charge upon the sinner is, that hisapprehensions respecting his own character are in conflict with theDivine. Nothing would more certainly meet the approbation of God, than arenunciation of human estimates of human nature, and the adoption ofthose contained in the inspired word. Endeavor, therefore, to obtain thevery same knowledge of your heart which God Himself possesses. And inthis endeavor, He will assist you. The influences of the Holy Spirit toenlighten are most positively promised and proffered. Therefore be notrepelled by the truth; but be drawn by it to a deeper, truer knowledge ofyour heart. Lift up your soul in prayer, and beseech God to impart to youa profound knowledge of yourself, and then to sprinkle all yourdiscovered guilt, and all your undiscovered guilt, with atoning blood. This is _salvation_; first to know yourself, and then to know Christ asyour Prophet, Priest, and King. [Footnote 1: PENSÉES: Grandeur de l'homme, 6. Ed. Wetstein. ] [Footnote 2: CHAPMAN: Byron's Conspiracy. ] GOD'S EXHAUSTIVE KNOWLEDGE OF MAN. [*continued] PSALM cxxxix. 1--6. --"O Lord, thou hast searched me, and known me. Thouknowest my down-sitting and mine uprising; thou understandest my thoughtafar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquaintedwith all my ways. For there is not a word in my tongue, but lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether. Thou hast beset me behind and before, andlaid thy hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it ishigh, I cannot attain unto it. " In the preceding discourse upon this text, we directed attention to thefact that man is possessed of the power of self-knowledge, and that hecannot ultimately escape from using it. He cannot forever flee from hisown presence; he cannot, through all eternity, go away from his ownspirit. If he take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermostparts of the earth, he must, sooner or later, know himself, and acquit orcondemn himself. Our attention was then directed to the fact, that God's knowledge of manis certainly equal to man's knowledge of himself. No man knows more ofhis own heart than the Searcher of hearts knows. Up to this point, certainly, the truth of the text is incontrovertible. God knows all thatman knows. II. We come now to the second position: That _God accurately andexhaustively knows all that man might, but does not, know of himself_. Although the Creator designed that every man should thoroughly understandhis own heart, and gave him the power of self-inspection that he mightuse it faithfully, and apply it constantly, yet man is extremely ignorantof himself. Mankind, says an old writer, are nowhere less at home, thanat home. Very few persons practise serious self-examination at all; andnone employ the power of self-inspection with that carefulness andsedulity with which they ought. Hence men generally, and unrenewed menalways, are unacquainted with much that goes on within their own mindsand hearts. Though it is sin and self-will, though it is thought andfeeling and purpose and desire, that is going on and taking place duringall these years of religious indifference, yet the agent himself, so faras a sober reflection upon the moral character of the process, and adistinct perception of the dreadful issue of it, are concerned, is muchof the time as destitute of self-knowledge as an irrational brute itself. For, were sinful men constantly self-examining, they would be constantlyin torment. Men can be happy in sin, only so long as they can sin withoutthinking of it. The instant they begin to perceive and understand _what_they are doing, they begin to feel the fang of the worm. If the frivolouswicked world, which now takes so much pleasure in its wickedness, couldbe forced to do here what it will be forced to do hereafter, namely, to_eye_ its sin while it commits it, to _think_ of what it is doing whileit does it, the billows of the lake of fire would roll in upon time, andfrom gay Paris and luxurious Vienna there would instantaneously ascendthe wailing cry of Pandemonium. But it is not so at present. Men here upon earth are continually thinkingsinful thoughts and cherishing sinful feelings, and yet they are notcontinually in hell. On the contrary, "they are not in trouble as othermen are, neither are they plagued like other men. Their eyes stand outwith fatness; they have more than heart could wish. " This proves thatthey are self-ignorant; that they know neither their sin nor its bitterend. They sin without the _consciousness_ of sin, and hence are happy init. Is it not so in our own personal experience? Have there not been in thepast ten years of our own mental history long trains of thought, --sinfulthought, --and vast processions of feelings and imaginings, --sinfulfeelings and imaginings, --that have trailed over the spaces of the soul, but which have been as unwatched and unseen by the self-inspecting eye ofconscience, as the caravans of the African desert have been, during thesame period, by the eye of our sense? We have not felt a pang of guiltevery single time that we have thought a wrong thought; yet we shouldhave felt one inevitably, had we _scrutinized_ every such single thought. Our face has not flushed with crimson in every particular instance inwhich we have exercised a lustful emotion; yet it would have done so hadwe carefully _noted_ every such emotion. A distinct self-knowledge has byno means run parallel with all our sinful activity; has by no means beenco-extensive with it. We perform vastly more than we inspect. We havesinned vastly more than we have been aware of at the time. Even the Christian, in whom this unreflecting species of life and conducthas given way, somewhat, to a thoughtful and vigilant life, knows andacknowledges that perfection is not yet come. As he casts his eye overeven his regenerate and illuminated life, and sees what a small amount ofsin has been distinctly detected, keenly felt, and heartily confessed, incomparison with that large amount of sin which he knows he must havecommitted, during this long period of incessant action of mind, heart, and limbs, he finds no repose for his misgivings with respect to thefilial examination and account, except by enveloping himself yet moreentirely in the ample folds of his Redeemer's righteousness; except byhiding himself yet more profoundly in the cleft of that Rock of Ageswhich protects the chief of sinners from the unsufferable splendors andterrors of the Divine glory and holiness as it passes by. Even theChristian knows that he must have committed many sins in thoughtlessmoments and hours, --many sins of which he was not deliberately thinkingat the time of their commission, --and must pray with David, "Cleanse thoume from secret faults. " The functions and operations of memory evincethat such is the case. Are we not sometimes, in our serious hours whenmemory is busy, convinced of sins which, at the time of their commission, were wholly unaccompanied with a sense of their sinfulness? The act inthis instance was performed blindly, without self-inspection, andtherefore without self-conviction. Ten years, we will say, haveintervened, --years of new activity, and immensely varied experiences. Andnow the magic power of recollection sets us back, once more, at thatpoint of responsible action, and bids do what we did not do at thetime, --analyze our performance and feel consciously guilty, experience thefirst sensation of remorse, for what we did ten years ago. Have we not, sometimes, been vividly reminded that upon such an occasion, and at sucha time, we were angry, or proud, but at the time when the emotion wasswelling our veins were not filled with, that clear and painful sense ofits turpitude which now attends the recollection of it? The re-exhibitionof an action in memory, as in a mirror, is often accompanied with adistinct apprehension of its moral character that formed no part of theexperience of the agent while absorbed in the hot and hasty originalaction itself. And when we remember how immense are the stores of memory, and what an amount of sin has been committed in hours of thoughtlessnessand moral indifference, what prayer is more natural and warm than thesupplication: "Search me O God, and try me, and see what evil ways thereare within me, and lead me in the way everlasting. " But the careless, unenlightened man, as we have before remarked, leads alife almost entirely destitute of self-inspection, and self-knowledge. Hesins constantly. He does only evil, and that continually, as did manbefore the deluge. For he is constantly acting. A living self-movingsoul, like his, cannot cease action if it would. And yet the current isall one way. Day after day sends up its clouds of sensual, worldly, selfish thoughts. Week after week pours onward its stream of low-born, corrupt, unspiritual feelings. Year after year accumulates that hardeningmass of carnal-mindedness, and distaste for religion, which is sometimesa more insuperable obstacle to the truth, than positive faults and viceswhich startle and shock the conscience. And yet the man _thinks_ nothingabout all this action of his mind and heart. He does not subject it toany self-inspection. If he should, for but a single hour, be lifted up tothe eminence from which all this current of self-will, and moral agency, may be seen and surveyed in its real character and significance, he wouldstart back as if brought to the brink of hell. But he is not thus liftedup. He continues to use and abuse his mental and his moral faculties, but, for most of his probation, with all the blindness and heedlessnessof a mere animal instinct. There is, then, a vast amount of sin committed without self-inspection;and, consequently, without any distinct perception, at the time, that itis sin. The Christian will find himself feeling guilty, for the firsttime, for a transgression that occurred far back in the past, and willneed a fresh application of atoning blood. The sinner will find, at someperiod or other, that remorse is fastening its tooth in his consciencefor a vast amount of sinful thought, feeling, desire, and motive, thattook origin in the unembarrassed days of religious thoughtlessness andworldly enjoyment. For, think you that the insensible sinner is always to be thusinsensible, --that this power of self-inspection is eternally to "rustunused?" What a tremendous revelation will one day be made to anunreflecting transgressor, simply because he is a man and not a brute, has lived a human life, and is endowed with the power of self-knowledge, whether he has used it or not! What a terrific vision it will be for him, when the limitless line of his sins which he has not yet distinctlyexamined, and thought of, and repented of, shall be made to pass in slowprocession before that inward eye which he has wickedly kept shut solong! Tell us not of the disclosures that shall be made when the seashall give up the dead that are in it, and the graves shall open andsurrender their dead; what are these material disclosures, when comparedwith the revelations of self-knowledge! What is all this externaldisplay, sombre and terrible as it will be to the outward eye, whencompared with all that internal revealing that will be made to a hithertothoughtless soul, when, of a sudden, in the day of judgment, its deepestcaverns shall heave in unison with the material convulsions of the day, and shall send forth to judgment their long slumbering, and hiddeniniquity; when the sepulchres of its own memory shall burst open, andgive up the sin that has long lain buried there, in needless and guiltyforgetfulness, awaiting this second resurrection! For (to come back to the unfolding of the subject, and the movement ofthe argument), God perfectly knows all that man might, but does not, knowof himself. Though the transgressor is ignorant of much of his sin, because at the time of its commission he sins blindly as well aswilfully, and unreflectingly as well as freely; and though thetransgressor has forgotten much of that small amount of sin of which hewas conscious, and by which he was pained, at the time of itsperpetration; though on the side of man the powers of self-inspection andmemory have accomplished so little towards the preservation of man's sin, yet God knows it all, and remembers it all. He compasseth man's path, andhis lying-down, and is acquainted with all his ways. "There is nothingcovered, therefore, that shall not be revealed, neither hid that shallnot be known. Whatsoever ye have spoken in darkness shall be heard in thelight; and that which ye have spoken in the ear in closets shall beproclaimed upon the house-tops. " The Creator of the human mind hascontrol over its powers of self-inspection, and of memory; and when theproper time comes He will compel these endowments to perform theirlegitimate functions, and do their appointed work. The torturingself-survey will begin, never more to end. The awful recollection willcommence, endlessly to go on. One principal reason why the Biblical representations of human sinfulnessexert so little influence over men, and, generally speaking, seem to themto be greatly exaggerated and untrue, lies in the fact that the Divineknowledge of human character is in advance of the human knowledge. God'sconsciousness and cognition upon this subject is exhaustive; while man'sself-knowledge is superficial and shallow. The two forms of knowledge, consequently, when placed side by side, do not agree, but conflict. Therewould be less difficulty, and less contradiction, if mankind generallywere possessed of even as much self-knowledge as the Christian ispossessed of. There would be no difficulty, and no contradiction, if theknowledge of the judgment-day could be anticipated, and theself-inspection of that occasion could commence here and now. But such isnot the fact. The Bible labors, therefore, under the difficulty ofpossessing an advanced knowledge; the difficulty of being addressed to amind that is almost entirely unacquainted with the subject treated of. The Word of God knows man exhaustively, as God knows him; and hence allits descriptions of human character are founded upon such a knowledge. But man, in his self-ignorance, does not perceive their awful truth. Hehas not yet attained the internal correspondent to the Biblicalstatement, --that apprehension of total depravity, that knowledge of theplague of the heart, which always and ever says "yea" to the most vividdescription of human sinfulness, and "amen" to God's heaviest maledictionupon it. Nothing deprives the Word of its nerve and influence, more thanthis general lack of self-inspection and self-knowledge. For, only thatwhich is perceived to be _true_ exerts an influence upon the human mind. The doctrine of human sinfulness is preached to men, year after year, towhom it does not come home with the demonstration of the Spirit and withpower, because the sinfulness which is really within them is as yetunknown, and because not one of a thousand of their transgressions hasever been scanned in the light of self-examination. But is the Bibleuntrue, because the man is ignorant? Is the sun black, because the eye isshut? However ignorant man may be, and may desire and strive to be, of himself, God knows him altogether, and knows that the representations of His word, respecting the character and necessities of human nature, are theunexaggerated, sober, and actual fact. Though most of the sinner's lifeof alienation from God, and of disobedience, has been a blind and areckless agency, unaccompanied with self-scrutiny, and to a great extentpassed from his memory, yet it has all of it been looked at, as itwelled, up from the living centres of free agency and responsibility, bythe calm and dreadful eye of retributive Justice, and has all of it beenindelibly written down in the book of God's sure memory, with a pen ofiron, and the point of a diamond. And here, let us for a moment look upon the bright, as well as the darkside of this subject. For if God's exhaustive knowledge of the humanheart waken dread in one of its aspects, it starts infinite hope inanother. If that Being has gone down into these depths of humandepravity, and seen it with a more abhorring glance than could ever shootfrom a finite eye, and yet has returned with a cordial offer to forgiveit all, and a hearty proffer to cleanse it all away, then we can lift upthe eye in adoration and in hope. There has been an infinite forbearanceand condescension. The worst has been seen, and that too by the holiestof Beings, and yet eternal glory is offered to us! God knows, frompersonal examination, the worthlessness of human character, with athoroughness and intensity of knowledge of which man has no conception;and yet, in the light of this knowledge, in the very flame of thisintuition, He has devised a plan of mercy and redemption. Do not think, then, because of your present ignorance of your guilt and corruption, that the incarnation and death of the Son of God was unnecessary, andthat that costly blood of atonement which you are treading under foot wetthe rocks of Calvary for a peccadillo. Could you, but for a moment only, know yourself _altogether_ and _exhaustively_, as the Author of thisRedemption knows you, you would cry out, in the words of a far holier manthan you are, "I am undone. " If you could but see guilt as God sees it, you would also see with Him that nothing but an infinite Passion canexpiate it. If you could but fathom the human heart as God fathoms it, you would know as He knows, that nothing less than regeneration canpurify its fountains of uncleanness, and cleanse it from its ingraincorruption. Thus have we seen that God knows man altogether, --that He knows all thatman knows of himself, and all that man might but does not yet know ofhimself. The Searcher of hearts knows all the thoughts that we havethought upon, all the reflections that we have reflected upon, all theexperience that we have ourselves analyzed and inspected. And He alsoknows that far larger part of our life which we have not yet subjected tothe scrutiny of self-examination, --all those thoughts, feelings, desires, and motives, innumerable as they are, of which we took no heed at thetime of their origin and existence, and which we suppose, perhaps, weshall hear no more of again. Whither then shall we go from God's spirit?or whither shall we flee from His presence and His knowledge? If weascend up into heaven, He is there, and knows us perfectly. If we makeour bed in hell, behold He is there, and reads the secret thoughts andfeelings of our heart. The darkness hideth not from Him; our ignorancedoes not affect His knowledge; the night shineth as the day; the darknessand the light are both alike to Him. This great truth which we have been considering obtains a yet moreserious emphasis, and a yet more solemn power over the mind, when we takeinto view the _character_ of the Being who thus searches our hearts, andis acquainted with all our ways. Who of us would not be filled withuneasiness, if he knew that an imperfect fellow-creature were lookingconstantly into his soul? Would not the flush of shame often burn uponour cheek, if we knew that a sinful man like ourselves were watching allthe feelings and thoughts that are rising within us? Should we not bemore circumspect than we are, if men were able mutually to search eachother's hearts? How often does a man change his course of conduct, whenhe discovers, accidentally, that his neighbor knows what he is doing. But it is not an imperfect fellow-man, it is not a perfect angel, whobesets us behind and before, and is acquainted with, all our ways. It isthe immaculate God himself. It is He before whom archangels veil theirfaces, and the burning seraphim cry, "Holy. " It is He, in whose sight thepure cerulean heavens are not clean, and whose eyes are a flame of firedevouring all iniquity. We are beheld, in all this process of sin, be itblind or be it intelligent, by infinite Purity. We are not, therefore, tosuppose that God contemplates this our life of sin with the dullindifference of an Epicurean deity; that He looks into our souls, allthis while, from mere curiosity, and with no moral _emotion_ towardsus. The God who knows us altogether is the Holy One of Israel, whosewrath is both real, and revealed, against all unrighteousness. If, therefore, we connect the holy nature and pure essence of God withall this unceasing and unerring inspection of the human soul, does notthe truth which, we have been considering speak with a bolder emphasis, and acquire an additional power to impress and solemnize the mind? Whenwe realize that the Being who is watching us at every instant, and inevery act and element of our existence, is the very same Being whorevealed himself amidst the lightenings of Sinai as _hating_ sin andnot clearing the thoughtless guilty, do not our prospects at the bar ofjustice look dark and fearful? For, who of the race of man is holy enoughto stand such an inspection? Who of the sons of men will prove pure insuch a furnace? Are we not, then, brought by this truth close up to the central doctrineof Christianity, and made to see our need of the atonement andrighteousness of the Redeemer? How can we endure such a scrutiny as Godis instituting into our character and conduct? What can we say, in theday of reckoning, when the Searcher of hearts shall make known, to us allthat He knows of us? What can we do, in that day which shall reveal thethoughts and the estimates of the Holy One respecting us? It is perfectly plain, from the elevated central point of view where wenow stand, and in the focal light in which we now see, that no man can bejustified before God upon the ground of personal character; for thatcharacter, when subjected to God's exhaustive scrutiny, withers andshrinks away. A man may possibly be just before his neighbor, or hisfriend, or society, or human laws, but he is miserably self-deceived whosupposes that his heart will appear righteous under such a scrutiny andin such a Presence as we have been considering. [1] However it may bebefore other tribunals, the apostle is correct when he asserts that"every mouth, must be stopped, and the whole world plead guilty beforeGod. " Before the Searcher of hearts, all mankind must appeal to mere andsovereign mercy. Justice, in this reference, is out of the question. Now, in this condition of things, God so loved the world that He gave Hisonly-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him might not perish, buthave everlasting life. The Divine mercy has been manifested in a modethat does not permit even the guiltiest to doubt its reality, itssufficiency, or its sincerity. The argument is this. "If when, we wereyet sinners, " _and known to be such, in the perfect and exhaustive mannerthat has been described, _ "Christ died for us, much more, being nowjustified by His blood, shall we be saved from Wrath through Him. "Appropriating this atonement which the Searcher of hearts has Himselfprovided for this very exigency, and which He knows to be thoroughlyadequate, no man, however guilty, need fear the most complete disclosureswhich the Divine Omniscience will have to make of human character in theday of doom. If the guilt is "infinite upon infinite, " so is thesacrifice of the God-man. Who is he that condemmeth? it is the Son of Godthat died for sin. Who shall lay anything to God's elect? it is God thatjustifieth. And as God shall, in the last day, summon up from the deepplaces of our souls all of our sins, and bring us to a strict account foreverything, even to the idle words that we have spoken, we can look Himfull in the eye, without a thought of fear, and with love unutterable, ifwe are really relying upon the atoning sacrifice of Christ forjustification. Even in that awful Presence, and under that Omniscientscrutiny, "there is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus. " The great lesson, then, taught by the text and its unfolding, is _theimportance of attaining self-knowledge here upon earth, and while thereremaineth a sacrifice for sins_. The duty and wisdom of every man is, toanticipate the revelations of the judgment day; to find out the sin ofhis soul, while it is an accepted time and a day of salvation. For wehave seen that this self-inspection cannot ultimately be escaped. Man wasmade to know himself, and he must sooner or later come to it. Self-knowledge is as certain, in the end, as death. The utmost that canbe done, is to postpone it for a few days, or years. The article of deathand the exchange of worlds will pour it all in, like a deluge, upon everyman, whether he will or not. And he who does not wake up to a knowledgeof his heart, until he enters eternity, wakes up not to pardon but todespair. The simple question, then, which, meets us is: Wilt thou know thyself_here_ and _now_, that thou mayest accept and feel God's pity in Christ'sblood, or wilt thou keep within the screen, and not know thyself untilbeyond the grave, and then feel God's judicial wrath? The self-knowledge, remember, must come in the one way or the other. It is a simple questionof time; a simple question whether it shall come here in this world, where the blood of Christ "freely flows, " or in the future world, where"there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin. " Turn the matter as we will, this is the sum and substance, --a sinful man must either come to athorough self-knowledge, with a hearty repentance and a joyful pardon, inthis life; or he must come to a thorough, self-knowledge, with a totaldespair and an eternal damnation, in the other. God is not mocked. God'sgreat pity in the blood of Christ must not be trifled with. He whorefuses, or neglects, to institute that self-examination which leads tothe sense of sin, and the felt need of Christ's work, by this very factproves that he does not desire to know his own heart, and that he has nowish to repent of sin. But he who will not even look at his sin, --whatdoes not he deserve from that Being who poured out His own blood for it?He who refuses even to open his eyes upon that bleeding Lamb ofGod, --what must not he expect from the Lion of the tribe of Judah, in theday of judgment? He who by a life of apathy, and indifference to sin, puts himself out of all relations to the Divine pity, --what must heexperience in eternity, but the operations of stark, unmitigated law? Find out your sin, then. God will forgive all that is found. Though yoursins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow. The great Goddelights to forgive, and is waiting to forgive. But, _sin must be seen bythe sinner, before it can be pardoned by the Judge_. If you refuse atthis point; if you hide yourself from yourself; if you preclude allfeeling and conviction upon the subject of sin, by remaining ignorant ofit; if you continue to live an easy, thoughtless life in sin, then you_cannot_ be forgiven, and the measure of God's love with which He wouldhave blessed you, had you searched yourself and repented, will be themeasure of God's righteous wrath with which He will search you, andcondemn you, because you have not. [Footnote 1: "It is easy, "--says one of the keenest and most incisive oftheologians, --"for any one in the cloisters of the schools to indulgehimself in idle speculations on the merit of works to justify men; butwhen he comes _into the presence of God_, he must bid farewell to theseamusements, for there the business is transacted with seriousness. Tothis point must our attention be directed, if we wish to make any usefulinquiry concerning true righteousness: How we can answer the _celestialJudge_ when He shall call us to an account? Let us place that Judgebefore our eyes, not according to the inadequate imaginations of ourminds, but according to the descriptions given of him in the Scriptures, which represent him as one whose refulgence eclipses the stars, whosepurity makes all things appear polluted, and who searches the inmost soulof his creatures, --let us so conceive of the Judge of all the earth, andevery one must present himself as a criminal before Him, and voluntarilyprostrate and humble himself in deep solicitude concerning; hisabsolution. " CALVIN: Institutes, iii. 12. ] ALL MANKIND GUILTY; OR, EVERY MAN KNOWS MORE THAN HE PRACTISES. ROMANS i. 24. --"When they knew God, they glorified him not as God. " The idea of God is the most important and comprehensive of all the ideasof which the human mind is possessed. It is the foundation of religion;of all right doctrine, and all right conduct. A correct intuition of itleads to correct religious theories and practice; while any erroneous ordefective view of the Supreme Being will pervade the whole province ofreligion, and exert a most pernicious influence upon the entire characterand conduct of men. In proof of this, we have only to turn to the opening chapters of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans. Here we find a profound and accurateaccount of the process by which human nature becomes corrupt, and runsits downward career of unbelief, vice, and sensuality. The apostle tracesback the horrible depravity of the heathen world, which he depicts with apen as sharp as that of Juvenal, but with none of Juvenal's bitternessand vitriolic sarcasm, to a distorted and false conception of the beingand attributes of God. He does not, for an instant, concede that thisdistorted and false conception is founded in the original structure andconstitution of the human soul, and that this moral ignorance isnecessary and inevitable. This mutilated idea of the Supreme Being wasnot inlaid in the rational creature on the morning of creation, when Godsaid, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. " On thecontrary, the apostle affirms that the Creator originally gave allmankind, in the moral constitution of a rational soul and in the works ofcreation and providence, the media to a correct idea of Himself, andasserts, by implication, that if they had always employed these mediathey would have always possessed this idea. "The wrath of God, " he says, "is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness ofmen who hold the truth in unrighteousness; _because_ that which may beknown of God is manifest in them, for God hath shewed it unto them. _For_the invisible things of him, even his eternal power and Godhead, areclearly seen from the creation of the world, being understood by thethings that are made, so that they are without excuse; _because_ thatwhen they _knew_ God, they glorified him not as God" (Rom. I. 18-21). From this, it appears that the mind of man has not kept what wascommitted to its charge. It has not employed the moral instrumentalities, nor elicited the moral ideas, with which it has been furnished. And, notice that the apostle does not confine this statement to those who livewithin the pale of Revelation. His description is unlimited anduniversal. The affirmation of the text, that "when man knew God heglorified him not as God, " applies to the Gentile as well as to the Jew. Nay, the primary reference of these statements was to the pagan world. Itwas respecting the millions of idolaters in cultivated Greece and Rome, and the millions of idolaters in barbarous India and China, --it wasrespecting the whole world lying in wickedness, that St. Paul remarked:"The invisible things of God, even his eternal power and Godhead, areclearly seen from the creation of the world down to the present moment, being understood by the things that are made; _so that they are withoutexcuse_. " When Napoleon was returning from his campaign in Egypt and Syria, he wasseated one night upon the deck of the vessel, under the open canopy ofthe heavens, surrounded by his captains and generals. The conversationhad taken a skeptical direction, and most of the party had combated thedoctrine of the Divine existence. Napoleon had sat silent and musing, apparently taking no interest in the discussion, when suddenly raisinghis hand, and pointing at the crystalline firmament crowded with itsmildly shining planets and its keen glittering stars, he broke out, inthose startling tones that so often electrified a million of men:"Gentlemen, who made all that?" The eternal power and Godhead of theCreator are impressed by the things that are made, and these words ofNapoleon to his atheistic captains silenced them. And the same impressionis made the world over. Go to-day into the heart of Africa, or into thecentre of New Holland; select the most imbruted pagan that can be found;take him out under a clear star-lit heaven and ask him who made all that, and the idea of a Superior Being, --superior to all his fetishes andidols, --possessing eternal power and supremacy ([Greek: theotaes])immediately emerges in his consciousness. The instant the missionarytakes this lustful idolater away from the circle of his idols, and bringshim face to face with the heavens and the earth, as Napoleon brought hiscaptains, the constitutional idea dawns again, and the pagan tremblesbefore the unseen Power. [1] But it will be objected that it is a very dim, and inadequate idea of theDeity that thus rises in the pagan's mind, and that therefore theapostle's affirmation that he is "without excuse" for being an idolaterand a sensualist requires some qualification. This imbruted creature, says the objector, does not possess the metaphysical conception of God asa Spirit, and of all his various attributes and qualities, like thedweller in Christendom. How then can he be brought in guilty before thesame eternal bar, and be condemned to the same eternal punishment, withthe nominal Christian? The answer is plain, and decisive, and derivableout of the apostle's own statements. In order to establish the guiltinessof a rational creature before the bar of justice, it is not necessary toshow that he has lived in the seventh heavens, and under a blaze of moralintelligence like that of the archangel Gabriel. It is only necessary toshow that he has enjoyed _some_ degree of moral light, and that he _hasnot lived up to it_. Any creature who knows more than he practises is aguilty creature. If the light in the pagan's intellect concerning God andthe moral law, small though it be, is yet actually in advance of theinclination and affections of his heart and the actions of his life, hedeserves to be punished, like any and every other creature, under theDivine government, of whom the same thing is true. Grades of knowledgevary indefinitely. No two men upon the planet, no two men in Christendom, possess precisely the same degree of moral intelligence. There are menwalking the streets of this city to-day, under the full light of theChristian revelation, whose notions respecting God and law areexceedingly dim and inadequate; and there are others whose views areclear and correct in a high degree. But there is not a person in thiscity, young or old, rich or poor, ignorant or cultivated, in the purlieusof vice or the saloons of wealth, whose knowledge of God is not inadvance of his own character and conduct. Every man, whatever be thegrade of his intelligence, knows more than he puts in practice. Ask theyoung thief, in the subterranean haunts of vice and crime, if he does notknow that it is wicked to steal, and if he renders an honest answer, itis in the affirmative. Ask the most besotted soul, immersed andpetrified in sensuality, if his course of life upon earth has been inaccordance with his own knowledge and conviction of what is right, andrequired by his Maker, and he will answer No, if he answers truly. Thegrade of knowledge in the Christian land is almost infinitely various;but in every instance the amount of knowledge is greater than the amountof virtue. Whether he knows little or much, the man knows more than heperforms; and _therefore_ his mouth must be stopped in the judgment, andhe must plead guilty before God. He will not be condemned for notpossessing that ethereal vision of God possessed by the seraphim; but hewill be condemned because his perception of the holiness and the holyrequirements of God was sufficient, at any moment, to rebuke hisdisregard of them; because when he knew God in some degree, he glorifiedhim not as God up to that degree. And this principle will be applied to the pagan world. It is so appliedby the apostle Paul. He himself concedes that the Gentile has not enjoyedall the advantages of the Jew, and argues that the ungodly Jew will bevisited with a more severe punishment than the ungodly Gentile. But heexpressly affirms that the pagan is _under law_, and _knows_ that he is;that he shows the work of the law that is written on the heart, in theoperations of an accusing and condemning conscience. But the knowledge oflaw involves the knowledge of _God_ in an equal degree. Who can feelhimself amenable to a moral law, without at the same time thinking of itsAuthor? The law and the Lawgiver are inseparable. The one is the mirrorand index of the other. If the eye opens dimly upon the commandment, itopens dimly upon the Sovereign; if it perceives eternal right and lawwith clear and celestial vision, it then looks directly into the face ofGod. Law and God are correlative to each other; and just so far, consequently, as the heathen understands the law that is written on theheart does he apprehend the Being who sitteth upon the circle of theheavens, and who impinges Himself upon the consciousness of men. Thisbeing so, it is plain that we can confront the ungodly pagan with thesame statements with which we confront the ungodly nominal Christian. Wecan tell him with positiveness, wherever we find him, be it upon theburning sands of Africa or in the frozen home of the Esquimaux, that heknows more than he puts in practice. We will concede to him that thequantum of his moral knowledge is very stinted and meagre; but in thesame breath we will remind him that small as it is, he has not lived upto it; that he too has "come short"; that he too, knowing God in thedimmest, faintest degree, has yet not glorified him as God in theslightest, faintest manner. The Bible sends the ungodly and licentiouspagan to hell, upon the same principle that it sends the ungodly andlicentious nominal Christian. It is the principle enunciated by our LordChrist, the judge of quick and dead, when he says, "He who knew hismaster's will [clearly], and did it not, shall be beaten with manystripes; and he who knew not his master's will [clearly, but knew itdimly, ] and did it not, shall be beaten with few stripes. " It is thejust principle enunciated by St. Paul, that "as many as have sinnedwithout [written] law shall also _perish_ without [written] law. "[2] Andthis is right and righteous; and let all the universe say, Amen. The doctrine taught in the text, that no human creature, in any countryor grade of civilization, has ever glorified God to the extent of hisknowledge of God, is very fertile in solemn and startling inferences, tosome of which we now invite attention. 1. In the first place, it follows from this affirmation of the apostlePaul, that _the entire heathen world is in a state of condemnation andperdition_. He himself draws this inference, in saying that in thejudgment "_every_ mouth must be stopped, and the _whole_ world becomeguilty before God. " The present and future condition of the heathen world is a subject thathas always enlisted the interest of two very different classes of men. The Church of God has pondered, and labored, and prayed over thissubject, and will continue to do so until the millennium. And thedisbeliever in Revelation has also turned his mind to the considerationof this black mass of ignorance and misery, which welters upon the globelike a chaotic ocean; these teeming millions of barbarians and savageswho render the aspect of the world so sad and so dark. The Church, weneed not say, have accepted the Biblical theory, and have traced the lostcondition of the pagan world, as the apostle Paul does, to their sin andtransgression. They have held that every pagan is a rational being, andby virtue of this fact has known something of the moral law; and that tothe extent of the knowledge he has had, he is as guilty for thetransgression of law, and as really under its condemnation, as thedweller under the light of revelation and civilization. They havemaintained that every human creature has enjoyed sufficient light, in theworkings of natural reason and conscience, and in the impressions thatare made by the glory and the terror of the natural world above andaround him, to render him guilty before the Everlasting Judge. For thisreason, the Church has denied that the pagan is an innocent creature, orthat he can stand in the judgment before the Searcher of hearts. For thisreason, the Church has believed the declaration of the apostle John, that"the _whole_ world lieth in wickedness" (1 John v. 19), and hasendeavored to obey the command of Him who came to redeem pagans as muchas nominal Christians, to go and preach the gospel to _every_ creature, because every creature is a lost creature. But the disbeliever in Revelation adopts the theory of human innocency, and looks upon all the wretchedness and ignorance of paganism, as helooks upon suffering, decay, and death, in the vegetable and animalworlds. Temporary evil is the necessary condition, he asserts, of allfinite existence; and as decay and death in the vegetable and animalworlds only result in a more luxuriant vegetation, and an increasedmultiplication of living creatures, so the evil and woe of the hundredsof generations, and the millions of individuals, during the sixtycenturies that have elapsed since the origin of man, will all of itminister to the ultimate and everlasting weal of the entire race. Thereis no need therefore, he affirms, of endeavoring to save such feeble andignorant beings from judicial condemnation and eternal penalty. Suchfiniteness and helplessness cannot be put into relations to such an awfulattribute as the eternal nemesis of God. Can it be, --he asks, --that themillions upon millions that have been born, lived their brief hour, enjoyed their little joys and suffered their sharp sorrows, and thendropped into "the dark backward and abysm of time, " have really been_guilty_ creatures, and have gone down to an endless hell? But what does all this reasoning and querying imply? Will the objectorreally take the position and stand to it, that the pagan man is not arational and responsible creature? that he does not possess sufficientknowledge of moral truth, to justify his being brought to the bar ofjudgment? Will he say that the population that knew enough to build thepyramids did not know enough to break the law of God? Will he affirm thatthe civilization of Babylon and Nineveh, of Greece and Rome, did notcontain within it enough of moral intelligence to constitute a foundationfor rewards and punishments? Will he tell us that the people of Sodom andGomorrah stood upon the same plane with the brutes that perish, and thetrees of the field that rot and die, having no idea of God, knowingnothing of the distinction between right and wrong, and never feeling thepains of an accusing conscience? Will he maintain that the populationsof India, in the midst of whom one of the most subtile and ingenioussystems of pantheism has sprung up with the luxuriance and involutions ofone of their own jungles, and has enervated the whole religious sentimentof the Hindoo race as opium has enervated their physical frame, --will hemaintain that such an untiring and persistent mental activity as this isincapable of apprehending the first principles of ethics and naturalreligion, which, in comparison with the complicated and obscureratiocinations of Boodhism, are clear as water, and lucid as atmosphericair? In other connections, this theorist does not speak in this style. Inother connections, and for the purpose of exaggerating natural religionand disparaging revealed, he enlarges upon the dignity of man, of everyman, and eulogizes the power of reason which so exalts him in the scaleof being. With Hamlet, he dilates in proud and swelling phrase: "What apiece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! inform and moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel!in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon ofanimals!" It is from that very class of theorizers who deny that theheathen are in danger of eternal perdition, and who represent the wholemissionary enterprise as a work of supererogation, that we receive themost extravagant accounts of the natural powers and gifts of man. Now ifthese powers and gifts do belong to human nature by its constitution, they certainly lay a foundation for responsibility; and all suchtheorists must either be able to show that the pagan man has made aright use of them, and has walked according to this large amount of truthand reason with which, according to their own statement, he is endowed, or else they consign him, as St. Paul does, to "the wrath of God which isrevealed from heaven against all ungodliness, and unrighteousness of _menwho hold the truth in unrighteousness_. " If you assert that the pagan manhas had no talents at all committed to him, and can prove your assertion, and will stand by it, you are consistent in denying that he can besummoned to the bar of God, and be tried for eternal life or death. Butif you concede that he has had one talent, or two talents, committed tohis charge; and still more, if you exaggerate his gifts and endow himwith five or ten talents, then it is impossible for you to save him fromthe judgment to come, except you can prove a _perfect_ administration anduse of the trust. [3] 2. In the second place, it follows from the doctrine of the text, that_the degraded and brutalized population of large cities is in a state ofcondemnation and perdition_. There are heathen near our own doors whose religious condition is as sad, and hopeless, as that of the heathen of Patagonia or New Zealand. Thevice and crime that nestles and riots in the large cities of Christendomhas become a common theme, and has lost much of its interest for theworldly mind by losing its novelty. The manners and way of life of theoutcast population of London and Paris have been depicted by thenovelist, and wakened a momentary emotion in the readers of fiction. Butthe reality is stern and dreadful, beyond imagination or conception. There is in the cess-pools of the great capitals of Christendom a mass ofhuman creatures who are born, who live, and who die, in moralputrefaction. Their existence is a continued career of sin and woe. Bodyand soul, mind and heart, are given up to earth, to sense, to corruption. They emerge for a brief season into the light of day, run their swift andfiery career of sin, and then disappear. Dante, in that wonderful Visionwhich embodies so much of true ethics and theology, represents thewrathful and gloomy class as sinking down under the miry waters andcontinuing to breathe in a convulsive, suffocating manner, sending upbubbles to the surface, that mark the place where they are drawing outtheir lingering existence. [4] Something like this, is the wretched lifeof a vicious population. As we look in upon the fermenting mass, the onlysigns of life that meet our view indicate that the life is feverish, spasmodic, and suffocating. The bubbles rising to the dark and turbidsurface reveal that it is a life in death. But this, too, is the result of sin. Take the atoms one by one thatconstitute this mass of pollution and misery, and you will find that eachone of them is a self-moving and an unforced will. Not one of thesemillions of individuals has been necessitated by Almighty God, or by anyof God's arrangements, to do wrong. Each one of them is a moral agent, equally with you and me. Each one of them is _self_-willed and_self_-determined in sin. He does not _like_ to retain religious truth inhis mind, or to obey it in his heart. Go into the lowest haunt of vice andselect out the most imbruted person there; bring to his remembrance thatclass of truths with which he is already acquainted by virtue of hisrational nature, and add to them that other class of truths taught inRevelation, and you will find that he is predetermined against them. Hetakes sides, with all the depth and intensity of his being, with thatsinfulness which is common to man, and which it is the aim of both ethicsand the gospel to remove. This vicious and imbruted man _loves_ the sinwhich is forbidden, more than he loves the holiness that is commanded. He_inclines_ to the sin which so easily besets him, precisely as you and Iincline to the bosom-sin which so easily besets us. We grant that thetemptations that assail him are very powerful; but are not some of thetemptations that beset you and me very powerful? We grant that thiswretched slave of vice and pollution cannot break off his sins byrighteousness, without the renewing and assisting grace of God; butneither can you or I. It is the action of _his own_ will that has madehim a slave. He loves his chains and his bondage, even as you and Inaturally love ours; and this proves that his moral corruption, thoughassuming an outwardly more repulsive form than ours, is yet the samething in principle. It is the rooted aversion of the human heart, theutter disinclination of the human will, towards the purity and holinessof God; it is "the carnal mind which is enmity against God; for it is notsubject to the law of God, neither indeed can be" (Rom. Viii. 7). But there is no more convincing proof of the position, that the degradedcreature of whom we are speaking is a self-deciding and unforced sinner, than the fact that he _resists_ efforts to reclaim him. Ask thesefaithful and benevolent missionaries who go down into these dens of viceand pollution, to pour more light into the mind, and to induce theseoutcasts to leave their drunkenness and their debauchery, --ask them ifthey find that human nature is any different there from what it iselsewhere, so far as _yielding_ to the claims of God and law isconcerned. Do they tell you that they are uniformly successful ininducing these sinners to leave their sins? that they never find anyself-will, any determined opposition to the holy law of purity, anypreference of a life of licence with its woes here upon earth andhereafter in hell, to a life of self-denial with its joys eternal? On thecontrary, they testify that the old maxim upon which so many millions ofthe human family have acted: "Enjoy the present and jump the life tocome, " is the rule for this mass of population, of whom so very few canbe persuaded to leave their cups and their orgies. Like the people ofIsrael, when expostulated with by the prophet Jeremiah for their idolatryand pollution, the majority of the degraded population of whom we arespeaking, when endeavors have been made to reclaim them, have said to thephilanthropist and the missionary: "There is no hope: no; for I haveloved strangers, and after them I will go" (Jer. Ii. 25). There is not asingle individual of them all who does not love the sin that isdestroying him, more than he loves the holiness that would save him. Notwithstanding all the horrible accompaniments of sin--the filth, thedisease, the poverty, the sickness, the pain of both body and mind, --thewretched creature prefers to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season, rather than come out and separate himself from the unclean thing, andbegin that holy warfare and obedience to which his God and his Saviourinvite him. This, we repeat, proves that the sin is not forced upon thiscreature. For if he hated his sin, nay if he felt weary and heavy ladenin the least degree because of it, he might leave it. There is a freegrace, and a proffered assistance of the Holy Ghost, of which he mightavail himself at any moment. Had he the feeling of the weary and penitentprodigal, the same father's house is ever open for his return; and thesame father seeing him on his return, though still a great way off, wouldrun and fall upon his neck and kiss him. But the heart is hard, and thespirit is utterly _selfish_, and the will is perverse and determined, andtherefore the natural knowledge of God and his law which this sinnerpossesses by his very constitution, and the added knowledge which hisbirth in a Christian land and the efforts of benevolent Christians haveimparted to him, are not strong enough to overcome his inclination, andhis preference, and induce him to break off his sins by righteousness. To him, also, as well as to every sin-loving man, these solemn words willbe spoken in the day of final adjudication: "The wrath of God is revealedfrom heaven against all ungodliness, and unrighteousness, of men who holddown ([Greek: katechein]) the truth in unrighteousness; because thatwhich may be known of God is manifest _within_ them; for God hath shewedit unto them. For the invisible things of him, even his eternal power andGodhead, are clearly seen from the creation of the world, beingunderstood by the things that are made; so that they are without excuse, because that when they knew God. They glorified him not as God. " 3. In the third and last place, it follows from this doctrine of theapostle Paul, as thus unfolded, that _that portion of the enlightened andcultivated population of Christian lands who have not believed on theLord Jesus Christ, and repented of sin, are in the deepest state ofcondemnation and perdition. _ "Behold thou art called a Jew, and restest in the law, and makest thyboast of God, and knowest his will, and approvest the things that aremore excellent, being instructed out of the law, and art confident thatthou thyself art a guide of the blind, a light of them which are indarkness: an instructor of the foolish, a teacher of babes: which hastthe form of knowledge, and of the truth, in the law: thou therefore thatteachest another teachest thou not thyself? thou that makest thy boast ofthe law, through breaking the law dishonored thou God?" If it be true that the pagan knows more of God and the moral law than hehas ever put in practice; if it be true that the imbruted child of viceand pollution knows more of God and the moral law than he has ever put inpractice; how much more fearfully true is it that the dweller in aChristian home, the visitant of the house of God, the possessor of thewritten Word, the listener to prayer and oftentimes the subject of it, possesses an amount of knowledge respecting his origin, his duty, andhis destiny, that infinitely outruns his character and his conduct. Ifeternal punishment will come down upon those classes of mankind who knowbut comparatively little, because they have been unfaithful in that whichis least, surely eternal punishment will come down upon that more favoredclass who know comparatively much, because they have been unfaithful inthat which is much. "If these things are done in the green tree, whatshall be done in the dry?" The great charge that will rest against the creature when he standsbefore the final bar will be, that "when he knew God, he _glorified_ Himnot as God. " And this will rest heaviest against those whose knowledgewas the clearest. It is a great prerogative to be able to know theinfinite and glorious Creator; but it brings with it a most solemnresponsibility. That blessed Being, of right, challenges the homage andobedience of His creature. What he asks of the angel, that he asks ofman; that he should glorify God in his body and spirit which are His, andshould thereby enjoy God forever and forever. This is the condemnation, under which man, and especially enlightened and cultivated man, rests, that while he knows God he neither glorifies Him nor enjoys Him. OurRedeemer saw this with all the clearness of the Divine Mind; and todeliver the creature from the dreadful guilt, of his self-idolatry, ofhis disposition to worship and love the creature more than the Creator, He became incarnate, suffered and died. It cannot be a small crime, thatnecessitated, such an apparatus of atonement and Divine influences asthat of Christ and His redemption. Estimate the guilt of coming short ofthe glory of God, which is the same as the guilt of idolatry andcreature-worship, by the nature of the provision that has been madeto cancel it. If you do not actually feel that this crime is great, thenargue yourself towards a juster view, by the consideration that it costthe blood of Christ to expiate it. If you do not actually feel that theguilt is great, then argue yourself towards a juster view, by thereflection that you have known God to be supremely great, supremely good, and supremely excellent, and yet you have never, in a single feeling ofyour heart, or a single thought of your mind, or a single purpose of yourwill, _honored_ Him. It is honor, reverence, worship, and love thatHe requires. These you have never rendered; and there is an infinity ofguilt in the fact. That guilt will be forgiven for Christ's sake, if youask for forgiveness. But if you do not ask, then it will stand recordedagainst you for eternal ages: "When he, a rational and immortal creature, knew God, he glorified Him not as God. " [Footnote 1: The early Fathers, in their defence of the Christiandoctrine of one God, against the objections of the pagan advocate of thepopular mythologies, contend that the better pagan writers themselvesagree with the new religion, in teaching that there is one Supreme Being. LACTANTIUS (Institutiones i. 5), after quoting the Orphic poets, Hesiod, Virgil, and Ovid, in proof that the heathen poets taught the unity ofthe Supreme Deity, proceeds to show that the better pagan philosophers, also, agree with them in this. "Aristotle, " he says, "although hedisagrees with himself, and says many things that are self-contradictory, yet testifies that one Supreme Mind rules over the world. Plato, who isregarded as the wisest philosopher of them all, plainly and openlydefends the doctrine of a divine monarchy, and denominates the SupremeBeing; not ether, nor reason, nor nature, but, as he is, _God_; andasserts that by him this perfect and admirable world was made. And Cicerofollows Plato, frequently confessing the Deity, and calls him the SupremeBeing, in his treatise on the Laws. " TERTULLIAN (De Test. An. C. 1; Adv. Marc. I. 10; Ad. Scap. C. 2; Apol. C. 17), than whom no one of theChristian Fathers was more vehemently opposed to the philosophizing ofthe schools, earnestly contends that the doctrine of the unity of God isconstitutional to the human mind. "God, " he says, "proves himself to beGod, and the one only God, by the very fact that He is known to _all_nations; for the existence of any other deity than He would first have tobe demonstrated. The God of the Jews is the one whom the _souls_ of mencall their God. We worship one God, the one whom ye all naturally know, at whose lightnings and thunders ye tremble, at whose benefits yerejoice. Will ye that we prove the Divine existence by the witness of thesoul itself, which, although confined by the prison of the body, althoughcircumscribed by bad training, although enervated by lusts and passions, although made the servant of false gods, yet when it recovers itself asfrom a surfeit, as from a slumber, as from some infirmity, and is in itsproper condition of soundness, calls God by _this_ name only, because itis the proper name of the true God. 'Great God, ' 'good God, ' and 'Godgrant' [deus, not dii], are words in every mouth. The soul also witnessesthat He is its judge, when it says, 'God sees, ' 'I commend to God, ' 'Godshall recompense me. ' O testimony of a soul naturally Christian [i. E. , monotheistic]! Finally, in pronouncing these words, it looks not to theRoman capitol, but to heaven; for it knows the dwelling-place of the trueGod: from Him and from thence it descended. " CALVIN (Inst. I. 10) seemsto have had these statements in his eye, in the following remarks: "Inalmost all ages, religion has been generally corrupted. It is true, indeed, that the name of one Supreme God has been universally known andcelebrated. For those who used to worship a multitude of deities, whenever they spake according to the genuine sense of nature, used simplythe name of God in the _singular_ number, as though they were contentedwith one God. And this was wisely remarked by Justin Martyr, who for thispurpose wrote a book 'On the Monarchy of God, ' in which he demonstrates, from numerous testimonies, that the unity of God is a principleuniversally impressed on the hearts of men. Tertullian (De Idololatria)also proves the same point, from the common phraseology. But since allmen, without exception, have become vain in their understandings, alltheir natural perception of the Divine Unity has only served to renderthem inexcusable. " In consonance with these views, the PresbyterianCONFESSION OF FAITH (ch. I. ) affirms that "the light of nature, and theworks of creation and providence, do so far manifest the goodness, wisdom, and power of God, as to leave men inexcusable. "] [Footnote 2: The word [Greek: apolountai], in Rom. Ii. 12, is opposed tothe [Greek: sotaeria] spoken of in Rom. I. 16, and therefore signifies_eternal_ perdition, as that signifies _eternal_ salvation. -Thosetheorists who reject revealed religion, and remand man back to the firstprinciples of ethics and morality as the only religion that he needs, send him to a tribunal that damns him. "Tell me, " says St. Paul, "yethat desire to be under the law, do ye not hear the law? The law is notof faith, but the man that _doeth_ them shall live by them. Circumcisionverily profiteth if thou _keep_ the law; but if thou be a breaker of thelaw, thy circumcision is made uncircumcision. " If man had been true toall the principles and precepts of natural religion, it would indeed bereligion enough for him. But he has not been thus true. The entire listof vices and sins recited by St. Paul, in the first chapter of Romans, isas contrary to natural religion, as it is to revealed. And it isprecisely because the pagan world has not obeyed the principles ofnatural religion, and is under a curse and a bondage therefor, that it isin perishing need of the truths of revealed religion. Little do thoseknow what they are saying, when they propose to find a salvation for thepagan in the mere light of natural reason and conscience. What pagan hasever realized the truths of natural conscience, in his inward characterand his outward life? What pagan is there in all the generations thatwill not be found guilty before the bar of natural religion? What heathenwill not need an atonement, for his failure to live up even to the lightof nature? Nay, what is the entire sacrificial cultus of heathenism, buta confession that the whole heathen world finds and feels itself to beguilty at the bar of natural reason and conscience? The accusing voicewithin them wakes their forebodings and fearful looking-for of Divinejudgment, and they endeavor to propitiate the offended Power by theirofferings and sacrifices. ] [Footnote 3: Infidelity is constantly changing its ground. In the 18thcentury, the skeptic very generally took the position of Lord Herbertof Cherbury, and maintained that the light of reason is very clear, andis adequate to all the religious needs of the soul. In the 19th century, he is now passing to the other extreme, and contending that man iskindred to the ape, and within the sphere of paganism does not possesssufficient moral intelligence to constitute him responsible. LikeLuther's drunken beggar on horseback, the opponent of Revelation swaysfrom the position that man is a god, to the position that he is achimpanzee. ] [Footnote 4: DANTE: Inferno, vii. 100-130. ] SIN IN THE HEART THE SOURCE OF ERROR IN THE HEAD ROMANS i. 28. --"As they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind. " In the opening of the most logical and systematic treatise in the NewTestament, the Epistle to the Romans, the apostle Paul enters upon a lineof argument to demonstrate the ill-desert of every human creature withoutexception. In order to this, he shows that no excuse can be urged uponthe ground of moral ignorance. He explicitly teaches that the pagan knowsthat there is one Supreme God (Rom. I. 20); that He is a spirit (Rom. I. 23); that He is holy and sin-hating (Rom. I. 18); that He is worthy to beworshipped (Rom. I. 21, 25); and that men ought to be thankful for Hisbenefits (Rom. I. 21). He affirms that the heathen knows that an idol isa lie (Rom. I. 25); that licentiousness is a sin (Rom. I. 26, 32); thatenvy, malice, and deceit are wicked (Rom. I. 29, 32); and that those whopractise such sins deserve eternal punishment (Rom. I. 32). In these teachings and assertions, the apostle has attributed no smallamount and degree of moral knowledge to man as _man_, --to man outside ofRevelation, as well as under its shining light. The question verynaturally arises: How comes it to pass that this knowledge which Divineinspiration postulates, and affirms to be innate and constitutional tothe human mind, should become so vitiated? The majority of mankind areidolaters and polytheists, and have been for thousands of years. Canit be that the truth that there is only one God is native to the humanspirit, and that the pagan "_knows_" this God? The majority of men areearthly and sensual, and have been for thousands of years. Can it be thatthere is a moral law written upon their hearts forbidding such carnality, and enjoining purity and holiness? Some theorizers argue that because the pagan man has not obeyed the law, therefore he does not know the law; and that because he has not reveredand worshipped the one Supreme Deity, therefore he does not possess theidea of any such Being. They look out upon the heathen populations andsee them bowing down to stocks and stones, and witness their immersion inthe abominations of heathenism, and conclude that these millions of humanbeings really know no better, and that therefore it is unjust to holdthem responsible for their polytheism and their moral corruption. But whydo they confine this species of reasoning to the pagan world? Why do theynot bring it into nominal Christendom, and apply it there? Why does notthis theorist go into the midst of European civilization, into the heartof London or Paris, and gauge the moral knowledge of the sensualist bythe moral character of the sensualist? Why does he not tell us thatbecause this civilized man acts no better, therefore he knows no better?Why does he not maintain that because this voluptuary breaks all thecommandments in the decalogue, therefore he must be ignorant of all thecommandments in the decalogue? that because he neither fears nor lovesthe one only God, therefore he does not know that there is any suchBeing? It will never do to estimate man's moral knowledge by man's moralcharacter. He knows more than he practises. And there is not so muchdifference in this particular between some men in nominal Christendom, and some men in Heathendom, as is sometimes imagined. The moral knowledgeof those who lie in the lower strata of Christian civilization, and thosewho lie in the higher strata of Paganism, is probably not so very farapart. Place the imbruted outcasts of our metropolitan population besidethe Indian hunter, with his belief in the Great Spirit, and his worshipwithout images or pictorial representations;[1] beside the stalwartMandingo of the high table-lands of Central Africa, with his active andenterprising spirit, carrying on manufactures and trade with all thekeenness of any civilized worldling; beside the native merchants andlawyers of Calcutta, who still cling to their ancestral Boodhism, or elsesubstitute French infidelity in its place; place the lowest of thehighest beside the highest of the lowest, and tell us if the differenceis so very marked. Sin, like holiness, is a mighty leveler. The "disliketo retain God" in the consciousness, the aversion of the heart towardsthe purity of the moral law, vitiates the native perceptions alike inChristendom and Paganism. The theory that the pagan is possessed of such an amount and degree ofmoral knowledge as has been specified has awakened some apprehension inthe minds of some Christian theologians, and has led them, unintentionally to foster the opposite theory, which, if strictlyadhered, to, would lift off all responsibility from the pagan world, would bring them in innocent at the bar of God, and would render thewhole enterprise of Christian missions a superfluity and an absurdity. Their motive has been good. They have feared to attribute any degreeof accurate knowledge of God and the moral law, to the pagan world, lestthey should thereby conflict with the doctrine of total depravity. Theyhave mistakenly supposed, that if they should concede to every man, byvirtue of his moral constitution, some correct apprehensions of ethicsand natural religion, it would follow that there is some native goodnessin him. But light in the intellect is very different from life in theheart. It is one thing to know the law of God, and quite another thing tobe conformed to it. Even if we should concede to the degraded pagan, orthe degraded dweller in the haunts of vice in Christian lands, all theintellectual knowledge of God and the moral law that is possessed by theruined archangel himself, we should not be adding a particle to his moralcharacter or his moral excellence. There is nothing of a holy quality inthe mere intellectual perception that there is one Supreme Deity, andthat He has issued a pure and holy law for the guidance of all rationalbeings. The mere doctrine of the Divine Unity will save no man. "Thoubelievest, " says St. James, "that there is one God; thou doest well, thedevils also believe and tremble. " Satan himself is a monotheist, andknows very clearly all the commandments of God; but his heart and willare in demoniacal antagonism with them. And so it is, only in a lowerdegree, in the instance of the pagan, and of the natural man, in everyage, and in every clime. He knows more than he practises. Thisintellectual perception therefore, this inborn constitutionalapprehension, instead of lifting up man into a higher and more favorableposition before the eternal bar, casts him down to perdition. If he knewnothing at all of his Maker and his duty, he could not be heldresponsible, and could, not be summoned to judgment. As St. Paul affirms:"Where there is no law there is no transgression. " But if, when he knewGod in some degree, he glorified him not as God to that degree; and if, when the moral law was written upon the heart he went counter to itsrequirements, and heard the accusing voice of his own conscience; thenhis mouth must be stopped, and he must become guilty before his Judge, like any and every other disobedient creature. It is this serious and damning fact in the history of man upon the globe, that St. Paul brings to view, in the passage which we have selected asthe foundation of this discourse. He accounts for all the idolatry andsensuality, all the darkness and vain imaginations of paganism, byreferring to _the aversion of the natural heart_ towards the one onlyholy God. "Men, " he says, --these pagan men--"did not _like to retain_ Godin their knowledge. " The primary difficulty was in their affections, andnot in their understandings. They knew too much for their own comfort insin. The contrast between the Divine purity that was mirrored in theirconscience, and the sinfulness that was wrought into their heart andwill, rendered this inborn constitutional idea of God a very painful one. It was a fire in the bones. If the Psalmist, a renewed man, yet notentirely free from human corruption, could say: "I thought of God and wastroubled, " much more must the totally depraved man of paganism be filledwith terror when, in the thoughts of his heart, in the hour when theaccusing conscience was at work, he brought to mind the one great God ofgods whom he did not glorify, and whom he had offended. It was no wonder, therefore, that he did not like to retain the idea of such a Being in hisconsciousness, and that he adopted all possible expedients to get rid ofit. The apostle informs us that the pagan actually called in hisimagination to his aid, in order to extirpate, if possible, all hisnative and rational ideas and convictions upon religious subjects. Hebecame vain in his imaginations, and his foolish heart as a consequencewas darkened, and he changed the glory of the incorruptible God, thespiritual unity of the Deity, into an image made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things (Rom. I. 21-23). He invented idolatry, and all those "gay religions full of pomp andgold, " in order to blunt the edge of that sharp spiritual conception ofGod which was continually cutting and lacerating his wicked and sensualheart. Hiding himself amidst the columns of his idolatrous temples, andunder the smoke of his idolatrous incense, he thought like Adam to escapefrom the view and inspection of that Infinite One who, from the creationof the world downward, makes known to all men his eternal power andgodhead; who, as St. Paul taught the philosophers of Athens, is not farfrom anyone of his rational creatures (Acts xvii. 27); and who, as thesame apostle taught the pagan Lycaonians, though in times past hesuffered all nations to walk in their own ways, yet left not himselfwithout witness, in that he did good, and gave them rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling their hearts with food and gladness. (Actsxiv. 16, 17). The first step in the process of mutilating the original idea of God, asa unity and an unseen Spirit, is seen in those pantheistic religionswhich lie behind all the mythologies of the ancient world, like anebulous vapor out of which the more distinct idols and images ofpaganism are struggling. Here the notion of the Divine unity is stillpreserved; but the Divine personality and holiness are lost. God becomesa vague impersonal Power, with no moral qualities, and no religiousattributes; and it is difficult to say which is worst in its moralinfluence, this pantheism which while retaining the doctrine of theDivine unity yet denudes the Deity of all that renders him an object ofeither love or reverence, or the grosser idolatries that succeeded it. For man cannot love, with all his mind and heart and soul and strength, avast impersonal force working blindly through infinite space andeverlasting time. And the second and last stage in this process of vitiating the true ideaof God appears in that polytheism in the midst of which St. Paul lived, and labored, and preached, and died; in that seductive and beautifulpaganism, that classical idolatry, which still addresses the human tastein such a fascinating manner, in the Venus de Medici, and the ApolloBelvidere. The idea of the unity of God is now mangled and cut up intothe "gods many" and the "lords many, " into the thirty thousand divinitiesof the pagan pantheon. This completes the process. God now gives hisguilty creature over to these vain imaginations of naturalism, materialism, and idolatry, and to an increasingly darkening mind, untilin the lowest forms of heathenism he so distorts and suppresses theconcreated idea of the Deity that some speculatists assert that it doesnot belong to his constitution, and that his Maker never endowed him withit. How is the gold become dim! How is the most fine gold changed! But it will be objected that all this lies in the past. This is theaccount of a process that has required centuries, yea millenniums, tobring about. A hundred generations have been engaged in transmutingthe monotheism with which the human race started, into the pantheism andpolytheism in which the great majority of it is now involved. How doyou establish the guilt of those at the end of the line? How can youcharge upon the present generation of pagans the same culpability thatPaul imputed to their ancestors eighteen centuries ago, and that Noah thepreacher of righteousness denounced, upon the antediluvian pagan? As thedeteriorating process advances, does not the guilt diminish? and now, inthese ends of the ages, and in these dark habitations of cruelty, has notthe culpability run down to a minimum, which God in the day of judgmentwill "wink at?" We answer No: Because the structure of the human mind is precisely thesame that it was when the Sodomites held down the truth inunrighteousness, and the Roman populace turned up their thumbs that theymight see the last drops of blood ebb slowly from the red gash in thedying gladiator's side. Man, in his deepest degradation, in his mosthardened depravity, is still a rational intelligence; and though heshould continue to sin on indefinitely, through cycles of time as long asthose of geology, he cannot unmake himself; he cannot unmould hisimmortal essence, and absolutely eradicate all his moral ideas. Paganismitself has its fluctuations of moral knowledge. The early Roman, in thedays of Numa, was highly ethical in his views of the Deity, and hisconceptions of moral law. Varro informs us that for a period of onehundred and seventy years the Romans worshipped their gods without anyimages;[2] and Sallust denominates these pristine Romans "religiosissimimortales. " And how often does the missionary discover a tribe or a race, whose moral intelligence is higher than that of the average of paganism. Nay, the same race, or tribe, passes from one phase of polytheism toanother; in one instance exhibiting many of the elements and truths ofnatural religion, and in another almost entirely suppressing them. Thesefacts prove that the pagan man is under supervision; that he is under therighteous despotism of moral ideas and convictions; that God is not farfrom him; that he lives and moves and has his being in his Maker; andthat God does not leave himself without witness in his constitutionalstructure. Therefore it is, that this sea of rational intelligence thussurges and sways in the masses of paganism; sometimes dashing thecreature up the heights, and sometimes sending him down into the depths. But while this subject has this general application to mankind outside ofRevelation; while it throws so much light upon the question of theheathens' responsibility and guilt; while it tends to deepen our interestin the work of Christian missions, and to stimulate us to obey ourRedeemer's command to go and preach the gospel to them, in order tosave them from the wrath of God which abideth upon them as it does uponourselves; while this subject has these profound and far-reachingapplications, it also presses with sharpness and energy upon the case, and the position, of millions of men in Christendom. And to this moreparticular aspect of the theme, we ask attention for a moment. This same process of corruption, and vitiation of a correct knowledge ofGod, which we have seen to go on upon a large scale in the instance ofthe heathen world, also often goes on in the instance of a singleindividual under the light of Revelation itself. Have you never known aperson to have been well educated in childhood and youth respecting thecharacter and government of God, and yet in middle life and old age tohave altered and corrupted all his early and accurate apprehensions, bythe gradual adoption of contrary views and sentiments? In his childhood, and youth, he believed that God distinguishes between the righteous andthe wicked, that he rewards the one and punishes the other, and hence hecherished a salutary fear of his Maker that agreed well with the dictatesof his unsophisticated reason, and the teachings of nature andrevelation. But when, he became a man, he put away these childish things, in a far different sense from that of the Apostle. As the years rolled, along, he succeeded, by a career of worldliness and of sensuality, inexpelling this stock of religious knowledge, this right way of conceivingof God, from his mind, and now at the close of life and upon the verybrink of eternity and of doom, this very same person is as unbelievingrespecting the moral attributes of Jehovah, and as unfearing with regardto them, as if the entire experience and creed of his childhood and youthwere a delusion and a lie. This rational and immortal creature in themorning of his existence looked up into the clear sky with reverence, being impressed by the eternal power and godhead that are there, and whenhe had committed a sin he felt remorseful and guilty; but the very sameperson now sins recklessly and with flinty hardness of heart, castssullen or scowling glances upward, and says: "There is no God. " Comparethe Edward Gibbon whose childhood expanded under the teachings of abeloved Christian matron trained in the school of the devout William Law, and whose youth exhibited unwonted religions sensibility, --compare thisEdward Gibbon with the Edward Gibbon whose manhood was saturated withutter unbelief, and whose departure into the dread hereafter was, in hisown phrase, "a leap in the dark. " Compare the Aaron Burr whose blood wasdeduced from one of the most saintly lineages in the history of theAmerican church, and all of whose early life was embosomed in ancestralpiety, --compare this Aaron Burr with the Aaron Burr whose middle life andprolonged old age was unimpressible as marble to all religious ideas andinfluences. In both of these instances, it was the aversion of the heartthat for a season (not for _eternity_, be it remembered) quenched out thelight in the head. These men, like the pagan of whom St. Paul speaks, didnot like to retain a holy God in their knowledge, and He gave them overto a reprobate mind. These fluctuations and changes in doctrinal belief, both in the generaland the individual mind, furnish materials for deep reflection by boththe philosopher and the Christian; and such an one will often be led tonotice the exact parallel and similarity there is between religiousdeterioration in races, and religious deterioration in individuals. The_dislike to retain_ a knowledge already furnished, because it is painful, because it rebukes worldliness and sin, is that which ruins both mankindin general, and the man in particular. Were the heart only conformed tothe truth, the truth never would be corrupted, never would be eventemporarily darkened in the human soul. Should the pagan, himself, actually obey the dictates of his own reason and conscience, he wouldfind the light that was in him growing still clearer and brighter. Godhimself, the author of his rational mind, and the Light that lightethevery man that cometh into the world, would reward him for his obedienceby granting him yet more knowledge. We cannot say in what particularmode the Divine providence would bring it about, but it is as certain asthat God lives, that if the pagan world should act up to the degree oflight which they enjoy, they would be conducted ultimately to the truthas it is in Jesus, and would be saved by the Redeemer of the world. Theinstance of the Roman centurion Cornelius is a case in point. This was athoughtful and serious pagan. It is indeed very probable that hismilitary residence in Palestine had cleared up, to some degree, hisnatural intuitions of moral truth; but we know that he was ignorant ofthe way of salvation through Christ, from the fact that the apostle Peterwas instructed in a vision to go and preach it unto him. The sincereendeavor of this Gentile, this then pagan in reference to Christianity, to improve the little knowledge which he had, met with the Divineapprobation, and was crowned with a saving acquaintance with theredemption that is in Christ Jesus. Peter himself testified to this, when, after hearing from the lips of Cornelius the account of hisprevious life, and of the way in which God had led him, "he opened hismouth and said, Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter ofpersons: but in every nation, he that feareth him and workethrighteousness is accepted with him" (Acts x. 34, 35). [3] But such instances as this of Cornelius are not one in millions uponmillions. The light shines in the darkness that comprehends it not. Almost without an exception, so far as the human eye can see, theunevangelized world holds the truth in unrighteousness, and does not liketo retain the idea of a holy God, and a holy law, in its knowledge. Therefore the knowledge continually diminishes; the light of naturalreason and conscience grows dimmer and dimmer; and the soul sinks down inthe mire of sin and sensuality, apparently devoid of all the higher ideasof God, and law, and immortal life. We have thus considered the truth which St. Paul teaches in the text, that the ultimate source of all human error is in the character of thehuman heart. Mankind do not _like to retain_ God in their knowledge, andtherefore they come to possess a reprobate mind. The origin of idolatry, and of infidelity, is not in the original constitution with which theCreator endowed the creature, but in that evil heart of unbelief by whichhe departed from the living God. Sinful man shapes his creed inaccordance with his wishes, and not in accordance with the unbiaseddecisions of his reason and conscience. He does not _like_ to think of aholy God, and therefore he denies that God is holy. He does not _like_ tothink of the eternal punishment of sin, and therefore he denies thatpunishment is eternal. He does not _like_ to be pardoned through thesubstituted sufferings of the Son of God, and therefore he denies thedoctrine of atonement. He does not _like_ the truth that man is sototally alienated from God that he needs to be renewed in the spirit ofhis mind by the Holy Ghost, and therefore he denies the doctrines ofdepravity and regeneration. Run through the creed which the Church haslived by and died by, and you will discover that the only obstacle to itsreception is the aversion of the human heart. It is a rational creed inall its parts and combinations. It has outlived the collisions andconflicts of a hundred schools of infidelity that have had their briefday, and died with their devotees. A hundred systems of philosophyfalsely so called have come and gone, but the one old religion of thepatriarchs, and the prophets, and the apostles, holds on its way throughthe centuries, conquering and to conquer. Can it be that sheer impostureand error have such a tenacious vitality as this? If reason is upon theside of infidelity, why does not infidelity remain one and the sameunchanging thing, like Christianity, from age to age, and subdue all menunto it? If Christianity is a delusion and a lie, why does it not dieout, and disappear? The difficulty is not upon the side of the humanreason, but of the human heart. Skeptical men do not _like_ the religionof the New Testament, these doctrines of sin and grace, and thereforethey shape their creed by their sympathies and antipathies; by what theywish to have true; by their heart rather than by their head. As theFounder of Christianity said to the Jews, so he says to every man whorejects His doctrine of grace and redemption: "Ye _will_ not come unto methat ye might have life. " It is an inclination of the will, and not aconviction of the reason, that prevents the reception of the Christianreligion. Among the many reflections that are suggested by this subject and itsdiscussion, our limits permit only the following: 1. It betokens deep wickedness, in any man, to change the truth of Godinto a lie, --_to substitute a false theory in religion for the true one_. "Woe unto them, " says the prophet, "that call evil good, and good evil;that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter forsweet, and sweet for bitter. " There is no form of moral evil that is morehateful in the sight of Infinite Truth, than that intellectual depravitywhich does not like to retain a holy God in its knowledge, and thereforemutilates the very idea of the Deity, and attempts to make him other thanhe is. There is no sinner that will be visited with a heavier vengeancethan that cool and calculating man, who, because he dislikes theunyielding purity of the moral law, and the awful sanctions by which itis accompanied, deliberately alters it to suit his wishes and hisself-indulgence. If a person is tempted and falls into sin, and yet doesnot change his religious creed in order to escape the reproaches ofconscience and the fear of retribution, there is hope that the orthodoxyof his head may result, by God's blessing upon his own truth, in sorrowfor the sin and a forsaking thereof. A man, for instance, who amidst allhis temptations and transgressions still retains the truth taught himfrom the Scriptures, at his mother's knees, that a finally impenitentsinner will go down to eternal torment, feels a powerful check upon hispassions, and is often kept from outward and actual transgressions by hiscreed. But if he deliberately, and by an act of will, says in his heart:"There is no hell;" if he substitutes for the theory that renders thecommission of sin dangerous and fearful, a theory that relieves it fromall danger and all fear, there is no hope that he will ever cease fromsinning. On the contrary, having brought his head into harmony with hisheart; having adjusted his theory to his practice; having shaped hiscreed by his passions; having changed the truth of God into a lie; hethen plunges into sin with an abandonment and a momentum that is awful. In the phrase of the prophet, he "draws iniquity with cords of vanity, and sin as it were with a cart-rope. " It is here that we see the deep guilt of those, who, by false theories ofGod and man and law and penalty, tempt the young or the old to theireternal destruction. It is sad and fearful, when the weak physical natureis plied with all the enticements of earth and sense; but it is yetsadder and more fearful, when the intellectual nature is sought to beperverted and ensnared by specious theories that annihilate thedistinction between virtue and vice, that take away all holy fear of God, and reverence for His law, that represent the everlasting future eitheras an everlasting elysium for all, or else as an eternal sleep. Thedemoralization, in this instance, is central and radical. It is in thebrain, in the very understanding itself. If the foundations themselves ofmorals and religion are destroyed, what can be done for the salvation ofthe creature? A heavy woe is denounced against any and every one whotempts a fellow-being. Temptation implies malice. It is Satanic. Itbetokens a desire to ruin an immortal spirit. When therefore the sirenwould allure a human creature from the path of virtue, the inspiration ofGod utters a deep and bitter curse against her. But when the cold-bloodedMephistopheles endeavors to sophisticate the reason, to debauch thejudgment, to sear the conscience; when the temptation is addressed to theintellect, and the desire of the tempter is to overthrow the entirereligious creed of a human being, --perhaps a youth just entering uponthat hazardous enterprise of life in which he needs every jot and tittleof eternal truth to guide and protect him, --when the enticement assumesthis purely mental form and aspect, it betokens the most malignant andheaven-daring guilt in the tempter. And we may be certain that theretribution that will be meted out to it, by Him who is true and TheTruth; who abhors all falsehood and all lies with an infinite intensity;will be terrible beyond conception. "Woe unto you ye _blind guides_! Yeserpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation ofhell! If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him theplagues that are written in this book. And if any man shall take awayfrom the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his partout of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and from the thingsthat are written in this book. " 2. In the second place, we perceive, in the light of this subject, _thegreat danger of not reducing religious truth to practice_. There are twofatal hazards in not obeying the doctrines of the Bible while yet thereis an intellectual assent to them. The first is, that these doctrinesshall themselves become diluted and corrupted. So long as theaffectionate submission of the heart is not yielded to their authority;so long as there is any dislike towards their holy claims; there is greatdanger that, as in the instance of the pagan, they will not be retainedin the knowledge. The sinful man becomes weary of a form of doctrine thatcontinually rebukes him, and gradually changes it into one that is lesstruthful and restraining. But a second and equally alarming danger is, that the heart shall become accustomed to the truth, and grow hard andindifferent towards it. There are a multitude of persons who hear theword of God and never dream of disputing it, who yet, alas, never dreamof obeying it. To such the living truth of the gospel becomes apetrifaction, and a savor of death unto death. We urge you, therefore, ye who know the doctrines of the law and thedoctrines of the gospel, to give an affectionate and hearty assent tothem _both_. When the divine Word asserts that you are guilty, and thatyou cannot stand in the judgment before God, make answer: "It is so, itis so. " Practically and deeply acknowledge the doctrine of human guiltand corruption. Let it no longer be a theory in the head, but a humblingsalutary consciousness in the heart. And when the divine Word affirmsthat God so loved the world that he gave his Only-Begotten Son to redeemit, make a quick and joyful response: "It is so, it is so. " Instead ofchanging the truth of God into a lie, as the guilty world have been doingfor six thousand years, change it into a blessed consciousness of thesoul. Believe_ what you know; and then what you know will be the wisdomof God to your salvation. [Footnote 1: "There are no profane words in the (Iowa) Indian language:no light or profane way of speaking of the 'Great Spirit. '"--FOREIGNMISSIONARY: May, 1863, p. 337. ] [Footnote 2: PLUTARCH: Numa, 8; AUGUSTINE: De Civitate, iv. 31. ] [Footnote 3: It should be noticed that Cornelius was not prepared foranother life, by the moral virtue which he had practised before meetingwith Peter, but by his penitence for sin and faith in Jesus Christ, whomPeter preached to him as the Saviour from sin (Acts x. 43). Good workscan no more prepare a pagan for eternity than they can a nominalChristian. Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius could no more be justifiedby their personal character, than Saul of Tarsus could be. First, becausethe virtue is imperfect, at the best: and, secondly, it does not begin atthe beginning of existence upon earth, and continue unintermittently tothe end of it. A sense of _sin_ is a far more hopeful indication, in theinstance of a heathen, than a sense of virtue. The utter absence ofhumility and sorrow in the "Meditations" of the philosophic Emperor, andthe omnipresence in them of pride and self-satisfaction, place him out ofall relations to the Divine _mercy_. In trying to judge of the finalcondition of a pagan outside of revelation, we must ask the question: Washe penitent? rather than the question: Was he virtuous?] THE NECESSITY OF DIVINE INFLUENCES. LUKE xi. 13. --"If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts untoyour children; how much more shall your heavenly Father give the HolySpirit to them that ask him?" The reality, and necessity, of the operation of the Holy Spirit upon thehuman heart, is a doctrine very frequently taught in the Scriptures. OurLord, in the passage from which the text is taken, speaks of the thirdPerson in the Trinity in such a manner as to convey the impression thatHis agency is as indispensable, in order to spiritual life, as food is inorder to physical; that sinful man as much needs the influences of theHoly Ghost as he does his daily bread. "If a son shall ask bread of anyof you that is a father, will he give him a stone?" If this is not at allsupposable, in the case of an affectionate earthly parent, much less isit supposable that God the heavenly Father will refuse renewing andsanctifying influences to them that ask for them. By employing such asignificant comparison as this, our Lord implies that there is aspressing need of the gift in the one instance as in the other. For, he does not compare spiritual influences with the mere luxuries oflife, --with wealth, fame, or power, --but with the very staff of lifeitself. He selects the very bread by which the human body lives, toillustrate the helpless sinner's need of the Holy Ghost. When God, byhis prophet, would teach His people that he would at some future timebestow a rich and remarkable blessing upon them, He says: "I will pourout my Spirit upon all flesh. " When our Saviour was about to leave hisdisciples, and was sending them forth as the ministers of his religion, he promised them a direct and supernatural agency that should "reprovethe world of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment. " And the history of Christianity evinces both the necessity and reality ofDivine influences. God the Spirit has actually been present by a specialand peculiar agency, in this sinful and hardened world, and hence theheart of flesh and the spread of vital religion. God the Spirit hasactually been absent, so far as concerns his special and peculiar agency, and hence the continuance of the heart of stone, and the decline, andsometimes the extinction of vital religion. Where the Holy Spirit hasbeen, specially and peculiarly, there the true Church of Christ has been, and where the Holy Spirit has not been, specially and peculiarly, there, the Church of Christ has not been; however carefully, or imposingly, theexternals of a church organization may have been maintained. But there is no stronger, or more effective proof of the need of thepresence and agency of the Holy Spirit, than that which is derived fromthe _nature of the case_, as it appears in the individual. Just inproportion as we come to know our own moral condition, and our own moralnecessities, shall we see and feel that the origin and growth of holinesswithin our earthly and alienated souls, without the agency of God theHoly Spirit, is an utter impossibility. Let us then look into theargument from the nature of the case, and consider this doctrine of adirect Divine operation, in its relations to ourselves personally. Why, then, does every man need these influences of the Holy Spirit which areso cordially offered in the text? 1. He needs them, in the first place, in order that _he may be convincedof the reality of the eternal world. _ There is such a world. It has as actual an existence as Europe or Asia. Though not an object for any one of the five senses, the invisible worldis as substantial as the great globe itself, and will be standing whenthe elements shall have been melted with fervent heat, and the heavensare no more. This eternal world, furthermore, is not only real, but it isfilled with realities that are yet more solemn. God inhabits it. Thejudgment-seat of Christ is set up in it. Heaven is in it. Hell is in it. Myriads of myriads of holy and happy spirits are there. Myriads of sinfuland wretched spirits are there. Nay, this unseen world is the _only_ realworld, and the objects in it the _only_ real objects, if we remember thatonly that which is immutable deserves the name of real. If we employ theeternal as the measure of real being, then all that is outside ofeternity is unreal and a vanity. This material world acquiresimpressiveness for man, by virtue of the objects that fill it. His farmis in it, his houses are upon it, solid mountains rise up from it, greatrivers run through it, and the old rolling heavens are bent over it. Butwhat is the transient reality of these objects, these morning vapors, compared with the everlasting reality of such beings as God and the soul, of such facts as holiness and sin, of such states as heaven and hell?Here, then, we have in the unseen and eternal world a most solemn andreal object of knowledge; but where, among mankind, is the solemn andvivid knowledge itself? Knowledge is the union of a fact with a feeling. There may be a stone in the street, but unless I smite it with my foot, or smite it with my eye, I have no knowledge of the stone. So, too, thereis an invisible world, outstanding and awfully impressive; but unless Ifeel its influences, and stand with awe beneath its shadows, it is asthough it were not. Here is an orb that has risen up into the horizon, but all eyes are shut. For, no thoughtful observer fails to perceive that an earthly, andunspiritual mode of thought and feeling is the prevalent one among men. No one who has ever endeavored to arrest the attention of a fellow-man, and give his thoughts an upward tendency towards eternity, will say thatthe effort is easily and generally successful. On the contrary, if anethereal and holy inhabitant of heaven were to go up and down our earth, and witness man's immersion in sense and time, the earthliness of hisviews and aims, his neglect of spiritual objects and interests, hisabsorption in this existence, and his forgetfulness of the other, itwould be difficult to convince him that he was among beings made in theimage of God, and was mingling with a race having an immortal destinationbeyond the grave. In this first feature of the case, then, as we find it in ourselves, andsee it in all our fellow-men, we have the first evidence of the need of_awakening_ influences from on high. Since man, naturally, is destituteof a solemn sense of eternal things, it is plain that there can be nomoral change produced in him, unless he is first wakened from thisdrowze. He cannot become the subject of that new birth without which hecannot see the kingdom of God, unless his torpor respecting the Unseen isremoved. Entirely satisfied as he now is with this mode of existence, andthinking little or nothing about another, the first necessity in his caseis a startle, and an alarm. Difficult as he now finds it to be, to bringthe invisible world before his mind in a way to affect his feelings, heneeds to have it loom upon his inward vision with such power andimpressiveness that he cannot take his eye off, if he would. Lethargic ashe now is, respecting his own immortality, it is impossible for him tolive and act with constant reference to it, unless he is wakened to itssignificance. Is it not self-evident, that if the sinner's presentindifference towards the invisible world, and his failure to feel itssolemn reality, continues through life, he will certainly enter thatstate of existence with his present character? Looking into the humanspirit, and seeing how dead it is towards God and the future, must wenot say, that if this deadness to eternity lasts until the death of thebody, it will certainly be the death of the soul? But, in what way can man be made to realize that there is an eternalworld, to which he is rapidly tending, and realities there, with which, by the very constitution of his spirit, he is forever and indissolublyconnected either for bliss or woe? How shall thoughtless and earthly man, as he treads these streets, and transacts all this business, and enjoyslife, be made to feel with misgiving, foreboding, and alarm, that thereis an eternity, and that he must soon enter it, as other men do, eitheras a heaven or a hell for his soul? The answer to this question, so oftenasked in sadness and sorrow by the preacher of the word, drives us backto the throne of God and to a mightier agency than that of man. For one thing is certain, that this apathy and deadness will never ofitself generate sensibility and life. Satan never casts out Satan. Ifthis slumberer be left to himself, he is lost. Should any man be givenover to the natural inclination of his heart, he would never be awakened. Should his earthly mind receive no check, and his corrupt heart take itsown way, he would never realize that there is another world than this, until he entered it. For, the worldly mind and the corrupt heart busythemselves solely and happily with this existence. They find pleasure inthe things of this life, and therefore never look beyond them. Worldlymen do not interfere with their own present actual enjoyment. Who of thisclass voluntarily makes himself unhappy, by thinking of subjects that aregloomy to his mind? What man of the world starts up from his sweet sleepand his pleasant dreams, and of his own accord looks the stern realitiesof death and the judgment in the eye? No natural man begins to woundhimself, that he may be healed. No earthly man begins to slay himself, that he may be made alive. Even when the natural heart is roused andwakened by some foreign agency; some startling providence of God or someDivine operation in the conscience, how soon, if left to its own motionand tendency, does it relapse into its old slumber and sleep. The needlehas received a shock, but after a slight trembling and vibration it soonsettles again upon its axis, ever and steady to the north. It is plain, that the sinner's worldly mind and apathetic nature will never conducthim to a proper sense of Divine things. The awakening, then, of the human soul, to an effectual apprehension ofeternal realities, must take its first issue from some other Being thanthe drowzy and slumbering creature himself. We are not speaking of a fewserious thoughts that now and then fleet across the human mind, likemeteors at midnight, and are seen no more. We are speaking of thatpermanent, that everlasting dawning of eternity, with its terrors and itssplendors, upon the human soul, which allows it no more repose, until itis prepared for eternity upon good grounds and foundations; and withreference to such a profound consciousness of the future state as this, we say with confidence, that the awakening must proceed from some Beingwho is far more alive to the solemnity and significance of eternalduration than earthly man is. Without impulses from on high, the sinnernever rouses up to attend to the subject of religion. He lives onindifferent to his religious interests, until _God_, who is more mercifulto his deathless soul than he himself is, by His providence startles him, or by His Spirit in his conscience alarms him. Never, until Godinterferes to disturb his dreams, and break up his slumber, does heprofoundly and permanently feel that he was made for another world, andis fast going into it. How often does God say to the careless man:"Arise, O sleeper, and Christ shall give thee light;" and how often doeshe disregard the warning voice! How often does God stimulate hisconscience, and flare light into his mind; and how often does he stifledown these inward convictions, and suffer the light to shine in thedarkness that comprehends it not! These facts in the personal history ofevery sin-loving man show, that the human soul does not of its ownisolated action wake up to the realities of eternity. They also show thatGod is very merciful to the human soul, in positively and powerfullyinterfering for its welfare; but that man, in infinite folly andwickedness, loves the sleep, and inclines to remain in it. The Holy Spirit strives, but the human spirit resists. II. In the second place, man needs the influences of the Holy Spirit_that he may be convinced of sin_. Man universally is a sinner, and yet he needs in every single instance tobe made aware of it. "There is none good, no, not one;" and yet out ofthe millions of the race how very few _feel_ this truth! Not only doesman sin, but he adds to his guilt by remaining ignorant of it. Thecriminal in this instance also, as in our courts of law, feels andconfesses his crime no faster than it is proved to him. Through whatblindness of mind, and hardness of heart, and insensibility ofconscience, is the Holy Spirit obliged to force His way, before there isa sincere acknowledgment of sin before God! The careful investigations, the persevering questionings and cross-questionings, by which, before ahuman tribunal, the wilful and unrepenting criminal is forced to see andacknowledge his wickedness, are but faint emblems of that thorough workthat must be wrought by the Holy Ghost, before the human soul, at ahigher tribunal, forsaking its refuges of lies, and desisting from itssubterfuges and palliations, smites upon the breast, and cries, "God bemerciful to me a sinner!" Think how much of our sin has occurred in totalapathy, and indifference, and how unwilling we are to have any distinctconsciousness upon this subject. It is only now and then that we feelourselves to be sinners; but it is by no means only now and then that weare sinners. We sin habitually; we are conscious of sin rarely. Ouraffections and inclinations and motives are evil, and only evil, continually; but our experimental _knowledge_ that they are so comes notoften into our mind, and what is worse stays not long, because we dislikeit. The conviction of sin, with what it includes and leads to, is of moreworth to man than all other convictions. Conviction of any sort, --aliving practical consciousness of any kind, --is of great value, becauseit is only this species of knowledge that moves mankind. Convince a man, that is, give him a consciousness, of the truth of a principle inpolitics, in trade, or in religion, and you actuate him politically, commercially, or religiously. Convince a criminal of his crime, that is, endue him with a conscious feeling of his criminality, and you make himburn with electric fire. A convicted man is a man thoroughly conscious;and a thoroughly conscious man is a deeply moved one. And this is true, with emphasis, of the conviction of sin. This consciousness produces adeeper and more lasting effect than all others. Convince a community ofthe justice or injustice of a certain class of political principles, andyou stir it very deeply, and broadly, as the history of all democraciesclearly shows; but let society be once convinced of sin before the holyand righteous God, and deep calleth unto deep, all the waters are moved. Never is a mass of human beings so centrally stirred, as when the Spiritof God is poured out upon it, and from no movement in human society dosuch lasting and blessed consequences flow, as from a genuine revival ofreligion. But here again, as in reference to the eternal state, there is norealizing sense. Conviction of sin is not a characteristic of mankind atlarge. Men generally will acknowledge in words that they are sinners, butthey wait for some far-distant day to come, when they shall be pricked inthe heart, and feel the truth of what they say. Men generally are notconscious of the dreadful reality of sin, any more than they are of thesolemn reality of eternity. A deep insensibility, in this respect also, precludes a practical knowledge of that guilt in the soul, which, ifunpardoned and unremoved, will just as surely ruin it as God lives andthe soul is immortal. Since, then, if man be left to his own inclination, he never will be convinced of sin, it is plain that some Agent who hasthe power must overcome his aversion to self-knowledge, and bring him toconsciousness upon this unwelcome subject. If any one of us, for theremainder of our days, should be given over to that ordinary indifferencetowards sin with which we walk these streets, and transact business, andenjoy life; if God's truth should never again in this world stab theconscience, and God's Spirit should never again make us anxious; is itnot infallibly certain that the future would be as the past, and that weshould go through this "accepted time and day of salvation" unconvictedand therefore unconverted? But besides this destitution of the experimental sense of sin, anotherground of the need of Divine agency is found in the _blindness_ of thenatural mind. Man's vision of spiritual things, even when they are setbefore his eyes, is dim and inadequate. The Christian ministry is greatlyhindered, because it cannot illuminate the human understanding, andimpart the power of a keen spiritual insight. It is compelled to presentthe objects of sight, but it cannot give the eye to see them. Visiondepends altogether upon the condition of the organ. The eye sees onlywhat it brings the means of seeing. The scaled eye of a worldling, or adebauchee, or a self-righteous man, cannot see that sin of the heart, that "spiritual wickedness, " at which men like Paul and Isaiah stoodaghast. These were men whose character compared with that of theworldling was saintly; men whose shoes' latchets the worldling is notworthy to stoop down and unloose. And yet they saw a depravity withintheir own hearts which he does not see in his; a depravity which hecannot see, and which he steadily denies to exist, until he isenlightened by the Holy Ghost. But the preacher has no power to impart this clear spiritual discernment. He cannot arm the eye of the natural man with that magnifying andmicroscopic power, by which hatred shall be seen to be murder, and lust, adultery, and the least swelling of pride, the sin of Lucifer. He iscompelled, by the testimony of the Bible, of the wise and the holy of alltime, and of his own consciousness, to tell every unregenerate man thathe is no better than his race; that he certainly is no better than theChristian Church which continually confesses and mourns over indwellingsin. The faithful preacher of the word is obliged to insist that there isno radical difference among men, and that the depravity of the man ofirreproachable morals but unrenewed heart is as total as was that of thegreat preacher to the Gentiles, --a man of perfectly irreproachablemorals, but who confessed that he was the chief of sinners, and fearedlest he should be a cast-away. But the preacher of this unwelcome messagehas no power to open the blind eye. He cannot endow the self-ignorant andincredulous man before him, with that consciousness of the "plague of theheart" which says "yea" to the most vivid description of humansinfulness, and "amen" to God's heaviest malediction upon it. Thepreacher's position would be far easier, if there might be a transfer ofexperience; if some of that bitter painful sense of sin with which thestruggling Christian is burdened might flow over into the easy, unvexed, and thoughtless souls of the men of this world. Would that theconsciousness upon this subject of sin, of a Paul or a Luther, mightdeluge that large multitude of men who doubt or deny the doctrine ofhuman depravity. The materials for that consciousness, the items that goto make up that experience, exist as really and as plentifully in yourmoral state and character, as they do in that of the mourning andself-reproaching Christian who sits by your side, --your devout father, yoursaintly mother, or sister, --whom you know, and who you know is a betterbeing than you are. Why should they be weary and heavy-laden with a senseof their unworthiness before God, and you go through life indifferent andlight-hearted? Are they deluded in respect to the doctrine of humandepravity, and are you in the right? Think you that the deathbed and theday of judgment will prove this to be the fact? No! if you shall everknow anything of the Christian struggle with innate corruption; if youshall ever, in the expressive phrase of Scripture, have your sensesexercised as in a gymnasium [1] to discern good and evil, and seeyourself with self-abhorrence; your views will harmonize most profoundlyand exactly with theirs. And, furthermore, you will not in the processcreate any _new_ sinfulness. You will merely see the _existing_ depravityof the human heart. You will simply see what _is_, --is now, in yourheart, and in all human hearts, and has been from the beginning. But all this is the work of a more powerful and spiritual agency thanthat of man. The truth may be exhibited with perfect transparency andplainness, the hearer himself may do his utmost to have it penetrate andtell; and yet, there be no vivid and vital consciousness of sin. Howoften does the serious and alarmed man say to us: "I know it, but I donot _feel_ it. " How long and wearily, sometimes, does the anxious manstruggle after an inward sense of these spiritual things, withoutsuccess, until he learns that an inward sense, an experimentalconsciousness, respecting religious truth, is as purely a gift andproduct of God the Spirit as the breath of life in his nostrils. Considering, then, the natural apathy of man respecting the sin that isin his own heart, and the exceeding blindness of his mental vision, evenwhen his attention has been directed to it, is it not perfectly plainthat there must be the exertion of a Divine agency, in order that he maypass through even the first and lowest stages of the religiousexperience? In view of the subject, as thus far unfolded, we remark: 1. First, that it is the duty of every one, _to take the facts in respectto man's character as he finds them_. Nothing is gained, in any provinceof human thought or action, by disputing actual verities. They arestubborn things, and will not yield to the wishes and prejudices of thenatural heart. This is especially true in regard to the facts in man'smoral and religious condition. The testimony of Revelation is explicit, that "the carnal mind is enmity against God, for it is not subject to thelaw of God, neither indeed can be;" and also, that "the natural manreceiveth not the things of the Spirit, neither can he know them, becausethey are spiritually discerned. " According to this Biblical statement, there is corruption and blindness together. The human heart is at oncesinful, and ignorant that it is so. It is, therefore, the very worst formof evil; a fatal disease unknown to the patient, and accompanied with thebelief that there is perfect health; sin and guilt without any just andproper sense of it. This is the testimony, and the assertion, of thatBeing who needs not that any should testify to Him of man, for he knowswhat is in man. And this is the testimony, also, of every mind that hasattained a profound self-knowledge. For it is indisputable, that inproportion as a man is introspective, and accustoms himself to thescrutiny of his motives and feelings, he discovers that "the whole headis sick, and the whole heart is faint. " It is, therefore, the duty and wisdom of every one to set to his sealthat God is true, --to have this as his motto. Though, as yet, he isdestitute of a clear conviction of sin, and a godly sorrow for it, stillhe should _presume_ the fact of human depravity. Good men in every agehave found it to be a fact, and the infallible Word of God declares thatit is a fact. What, then, is gained, by proposing another than theBiblical theory of human nature? Is the evil removed by denying itsexistence? Will the mere calling men good at heart, and by nature, makethem such? "Who can hold a fire in his hand, By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, By bare imagination of a feast? Or wallow naked in December snow, By thinking on fantastic summer heat?"[2] 2. In the second place, we remark that it is the duty of every one, _notto be discouraged by these facts and truths relative to the moralcondition of man. _ For, one fact conducts to the next one. One truthprepares for a second. If it is a solemn and sad fact that men aresinners, and blind and dead in their trespasses and sin, it is also acheering fact that the Holy Spirit can enlighten the darkestunderstanding, and enliven the most torpid and indifferent soul; and itis a still further, and most encouraging truth and fact, that the HolySpirit is given to those who ask for it, with more readiness than afather gives bread to his hungry child. Here, then, we have the fact ofsin, and of blindness and apathy in sin; the fact of a mighty power inGod to convince of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment; and theblessed fact that this power is accessible to prayer. Let us put thesethree facts together, all of them, and act accordingly. Then we shall betaught by the Spirit, and shall come to a salutary consciousness of sin;and then shall be verified in our own experience the words of God: "Idwell in the high and holy place, and with him also that is of a contriteand humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive theheart of the contrite ones. " [Footnote 1: [Greek: Ta aisthaeria gegurasmena. ] Heb. V. 14. ] [Footnote 2: SHAKSPEARE: Richard II. Act i. Sc. 3. ] THE NECESSITY OF DIVINE INFLUENCES. [*continued] Luke xi. 13. --"If ye, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts untoyour children; how much more shall your heavenly Father give the HolySpirit to them that ask him. " In expounding the doctrine of these words, in the preceding discourse, the argument for the necessity of Divine influences had reference to themore general aspects of man's character and condition. We were concernedwith the origin of seriousness in view of a future life, and theproduction of a sense of moral corruption and unfitness to entereternity. We have now to consider the work of the Spirit, in itsrelations, first, to that more distinct sense of sin which is denominatedthe consciousness of _guilt_, and secondly, to that saving act of_faith_ by which the atonement of Christ is appropriated by the soul. I. Sin is not man's misfortune, but his fault; and any view that fallsshort of this fact is radically defective. Sin not only brings acorruption and bondage, but also a condemnation and penalty, upon theself-will that originates it. Sin not only renders man unfit for rewards, font also deserving of punishment. As one who has disobeyed law of hisown determination, he is liable not merely to the negative loss ofblessings, but also to the positive infliction of retribution. It is notenough that a transgressor be merely let alone; he must be taken in handand punished. He is not simply a diseased man; he is a criminal. His sin, therefore, requires not a removal merely, but also an _expiation_. This relation and reference of transgression to law and justice is afundamental one; and yet it is very liable to be overlooked, or at leastto be inadequately apprehended. The sense of _ill-desert_ is too apt tobe confused and shallow, in the human soul. Man is comparatively ready toacknowledge the misery of sin, while he is slow to confess the guilt ofit. When the word of God asserts he is poor, and blind, and wretched, heis comparatively forward to assent; but when, in addition, it assertsthat he deserves to be punished everlastingly, he reluctates. Mankind arewilling to acknowledge their wretchedness, and be pitied; but they arenot willing to acknowledge their guiltiness, and stand condemned beforelaw. And yet, guilt is the very essence of sin. Extinguish the criminality, and you extinguish the inmost core and heart of moral evil. We may havefelt that sin is bondage, that it is inward dissension and disharmony, that it takes away the true dignity of our nature, but if we have notalso felt that it is _iniquity_ and merits penalty, we have not becomeconscious of its most essential quality. It is not enough that we comebefore God, saying: "I am wretched in my soul; I am weary of my bondage;I long for deliverance. " We must also say, as we look up into that holyEye: "I am guilty; O my God I deserve thy judgments. " In brief, the humanmind must recognize all the Divine attributes. The entire Divinecharacter, in both its justice and its love, must rise full-orbed beforethe soul, when thus seeking salvation. It is not enough, that we ask Godto free us from disquietude, and give us repose. Before we do this, andthat we may do it successfully, we must employ the language of David, while under the stings of guilt: "O Lord rebuke me not in thy wrath:neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure. Be merciful unto me, O God bemerciful unto me. " What is needed is, more consideration of sin in its objective, and lessin its subjective relations; more sense of it in its reference to thebeing and attributes of God, and less sense of it in its reference to ourown happiness or misery, or even to the harmony of our own powers andfaculties. The adorable being and attributes of God are of moreimportance than any human soul, immortal though it be; and what isrequired in the religious experience is, more anxiety lest the Divineglory should be tarnished, and less fear that a worm of the dust be mademiserable by his transgressions. And whatever may be our theory of thematter, "to this complexion must we come at last, " even in order to ourown peace of mind. We must lose our life, in order to find it. Even inorder to our own inward repose of conscience and of heart, there mustcome a point and period in our mental history, when we do actually sinkself out of sight, and think of sin in its relation to the character andgovernment of the great and holy God, --when we do see it to be _guilt_, as well as corruption. For guilt is a distinct, and a distinguishable quality. It is a thing byitself, like the Platonic idea of Beauty. [1] It is sin stripped of itsaccompaniments, --the restlessness, the dissatisfaction, and theunhappiness which it produces, --and perceived in its pure odiousness andill-desert. And when thus seen, it does not permit the mind to think ofany thing but the righteous law, and the Divine character. In the hour ofthorough conviction, the sinful spirit is lost in the feeling ofguiltiness: wholly engrossed in the reflection that it has incurred thecondemnation of the Best Being in the universe. It is in distress, notbecause an Almighty Being can make it miserable but, because a Holy andGood Being has _reason_ to be displeased with it. When it gives utteranceto its emotion, it says to its Sovereign and its Judge: "I am in anguish, more because Thou the Holy and the Good art unreconciled with me, thanbecause Thou the Omnipotent canst punish me forever. I refuse not to Thepunished; I deserve the inflictions of Thy justice; only _forgive_, andThou mayest do what Thou wilt unto me. " A soul that is truly penitent hasno desire to escape penalty, at the expense of principle and law. It sayswith David: "Thou desirest not sacrifice;" such atonement as I can makeis inadequate; "else would I give it. " It expresses its approbation ofthe pure justice of God, in the language of the gentlest and sweetest ofMystics: "Thou hast no lightnings, O Thou Just! Or I their force should know; And if Thou strike me into dust, My soul approves the blow. The heart that values less its ease, Than it adores Thy ways; In Thine avenging anger, sees A subject of its praise. Pleased I could lie, concealed and lost, In shades of central night; Not to avoid Thy wrath, Thou know'st, But lest I grieve Thy sight. Smite me, O Thou whom I provoke! And I will love Thee still; The well deserved and righteous stroke Shall please me, though it kill. "[2] Now, it is only when the human spirit is under the illuminating, anddiscriminating influences of the Holy Ghost, that it possesses this pureand genuine sense of guilt. Worldly losses, trials, warnings by God'sprovidence, may rouse the sinner, and make him solemn; but unless theSpirit of Grace enters his heart he does not feel that he isill-deserving. He is sad and fearful, respecting the future life, andperhaps supposes that this state of mind is one of true conviction, andwonders that it does not end in conversion, and the joy of pardon. But ifhe would examine it, he would discover that it is full of the lust of self. He would find that he is merely unhappy, and restless, and afraidto die. If he should examine the workings of his heart, he would discoverthat they are only another form of self-love; that instead of beinganxious about self in the present world, he has become anxious about selfin the future world; that instead of looking out for his happiness here, he has begun to look out for it hereafter; that in fact he has merelytransferred sin, from time and its relations, to eternity and itsrelations. Such sorrow as this needs to be sorrowed for, and suchrepentance as this needs to be repented of. Such conviction as this needsto be laid open, and have its defect shown. After a course of wrongdoing, it is not sufficient for man to come before the Holy One, making mentionof his wretchedness, and desire for happiness, but making no mention ofhis culpability, and desert of righteous and holy judgments. It is notenough for the criminal to plead for life, however earnestly, while heavoids the acknowledgment that death is his just due. For silence in sucha connection as this, is _denial_. The impenitent thief upon the crosswas clamorous for life and happiness, saying, "If thou be the Christ, save thyself and us. " He said nothing concerning the crime that hadbrought him to a malefactor's death, and thereby showed that it did notweigh heavy upon his conscience. But the real penitent rebuked him, saying: "Dost thou not fear God, seeing thou art in the samecondemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of ourdeeds. " And then followed that meek and broken-hearted supplication:"Lord remember me, " which drew forth the world-renowned answer: "This dayshalt thou be with me in paradise. " In the fact, then, that man's experience of sin is so liable to bedefective upon the side of guilt, we find another necessity for theteaching of the Holy Spirit; for a spiritual agency that cannot bedeceived, which pierces to the dividing asunder of the soul and spirit, and is a discerner of the real intent and feeling of the heart. II. In the second place, man needs the influences of the Holy Spirit, inorder that _he may actually appropriate Christ's atonement for sin_. The feeling of ill-desert, of which we have spoken, requires anexpiation, in order to its extinction, precisely as the burning sensationof thirst needs the cup of cold water, in order that it may be allayed, the sense of guilt is awakened in its pure and genuine form, by the HolySpirit's operation, the soul _craves_ the atonement, --it _wants_ thedying Lamb of God. We often speak of a believer's longings after purity, after peace, after joy. There is an appetency for them. In like manner, there is in the illuminated and guilt-smitten conscience an appetency forthe piacular work of Christ, as that which alone can give itpacification. Contemplated from this point of view, there is not a morerational doctrine within the whole Christian system, than that of theAtonement. Anything that ministers to a distinct and legitimate cravingin man is reasonable, and necessary. That theorist, therefore, who wouldevince the unreasonableness of the atoning work of the Redeemer, mustfirst evince the unreasonableness of the consciousness of guilt, and ofthe judicial craving of the conscience. He must show the groundlessnessof that fundamental and organic feeling which imparts such a blood-redcolor to all the religions of the globe; be they Pagan, Jewish, orChristian. Whenever, therefore, this sensation of ill-desert is elicited, and the soul feels consciously criminal before the Everlasting Judge, thedifficulties that beset the doctrine of the Cross all vanish in the_craving_, in the _appetency_, of the conscience, for acquittal throughthe substituted sufferings of the Son of God. He who has been taught bythe Spirit respecting the iniquity of sin, and views it in its relationsto the Divine holiness, has no wish to be pardoned at the expense ofjustice. His conscience is now jealous for the majesty of God, and thedignity of His government. He now experimentally understands that greattruth which has its foundation in the nature of guilt, and consequentlyin the method of Redemption, --the great ethical truth, that after anaccountable agent has stained himself with crime, there is from thenecessity of the case no remission without the satisfaction of law. But it is one thing to acknowledge this in theory, and even to feel theneed of Christ's atonement, and still another thing to _reallyappropriate_ it. Unbelief and despair have great power over aguilt-stricken mind; and were it not for that Spirit who "takes of thethings of Christ and shows them to the soul, " sinful man would in everyinstance succumb under their awful paralysis. For, if the truth and Spiritof God should merely convince the sinner of his guilt, but never apply theatoning blood of the Redeemer, hell would be in him and he would be inhell. If God, coming forth as He justly might only in His judicialcharacter, should confine Himself to a convicting operation in theconscience, --should make the transgressor feel his guilt, and then leavehim to the feeling and with the feeling, forevermore, --this would beeternal death. And if, as any man shall lie down upon his death-bed, heshall find that owing to his past quenching of the Spirit theilluminating energy of God is searching him, and revealing him tohimself, but does not assist him to look up to the Saviour of sinners;and if, in the day of judgment, as he draws near the bar of an eternaldoom, he shall discover that the sense of guilt grows deeper and deeper, while the atoning blood is not applied, --if this shall be the experienceof any one upon his death-bed, and in the day of judgment, will he needto be told what he is and whither he is going? Now it is with reference to these disclosures that come in like a delugeupon him, that man needs the aids and operation of the Holy Spirit. Ordinarily, nearly the whole of his guilt is latent within him. He is, commonly, undisturbed by conscience; but it would be a fatal error toinfer that therefore he has a clear and innocent conscience. There is avast amount of undeveloped guilt within every impenitent soul. It isslumbering there, as surely as magnetism is in the magnet, and theelectric fluid is in the piled-up thunder-cloud. For there are momentswhen the sinful soul feels this hidden criminality, as there are momentswhen the magnet shows its power, and the thunder-cloud darts its nimbleand forked lightnings. Else, why do these pangs and fears shoot and flashthrough it, every now and then? Why does the drowning man instinctivelyask for God's mercy? Were his conscience pure and clear from guilt, likethat of the angel or the seraph, --were there no latent crime withinhim, --he would sink into the unfathomed depths of the sea, without thethought of such a cry. When the traveller in South America sees the smokeand flame of the volcano, here and there, as he passes along, he isjustified in inferring that a vast central fire is burning beneath thewhole region. In like manner, when man discovers, as he watches thephenomena of his conscience, that guilt every now and then emerges like aflash of flame into consciousness, filling him with fear anddistress, --when he finds that he has no security against this invasion, but that in an hour when he thinks not, and commonly when he is weakestand faintest, in his moments of danger or death, it stings him and woundshim, he is justified in inferring, and he must infer, that the deep placesof his spirit, the whole _potentiality_ of his soul is full of crime. Now, in no condition of the soul is there greater need of the agency ofthe Comforter (O well named the Comforter), than when all this latency issuddenly manifested to a man. When this deluge of discovery comes in, allthe billows of doubt, fear, terror, and despair roll over the soul, andit sinks in the deep waters. The sense of guilt, --that awful guilt, whichthe man has carried about with him for many long years, and which he hastrifled with, --now proves too great for him to control. It seizes himlike a strong-armed man. If he could only believe that the blood of theLamb of God expiates all this crime which is so appalling to his mind, hewould be at peace instantaneously. But he is unable to believe this. Hissin, which heretofore looked too small to be noticed, now appears toogreat to be forgiven. Other men may be pardoned, but not he. He_despairs_ of mercy; and if he should be left to the natural workings ofhis own mind; if he should not be taught and assisted by the Holy Ghost, in this critical moment, to behold the Lamb of God; he would despairforever. For this sense of ill-desert, this fearful looking-for ofjudgment and fiery indignation, with which he is wrestling, is organic tothe conscience, and the human will has no more power over it than it hasover the sympathetic nerve. Only as he is taught by the Divine Spirit, ishe able with perfect calmness to look up from this brink of despair, andsay: "There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus. Theblood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. Therefore, being justifiedby faith we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. I knowwhom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that whichI have committed unto him against that day. " In view of the truths which we have now considered, it is worthy ofobservation: 1. First, that _the Holy Spirit constitutes the tie, and bond ofconnection, between man and God_. The third Person in the Godhead is veryoften regarded as more distant from the human soul, than either theFather or the Son. In the history of the doctrine of the Trinity, thedefinition of the Holy Spirit, and the discrimination of His relations inthe economy of the Godhead, was not settled until after the doctrine ofthe first and second Persons had been established. Something analogous tothis appears in the individual experience. God the Father and God the Sonare more in the thoughts of many believers, than God the Holy Ghost. Andyet, we have seen that in the economy of Redemption, and from the verynature of the case, the soul is brought as close to the Spirit, as to theFather and Son. Nay, it is only through the inward operations of theformer, that the latter are made real to the heart and mind of man. Notuntil the third Person enlightens, are the second and first Personsbeheld. "No man, " says St. Paul, "can say that Jesus is the Lord, but bythe Holy Ghost. " The sinful soul is entirely dependent upon the Divine Spirit, and fromfirst to last it is in most intimate communication with Him during theprocess of salvation. It is enlightened by His influence; it is enlivenedby Him; it is empowered by Him to the act of faith in Christ's Person andWork; it is supported and assisted by Him, in every step of the Christianrace; it is comforted by Him in all trials and tribulations; and, lastly, it is perfected in holiness, and fitted for the immediate presence ofGod, by Him. Certainly, then, the believer should have as full faith inthe distinct personality, and immediate efficiency, of the third Person, as he has in that of the first and second. His most affectionate feelingshould centre upon that Blessed Agent, through whom he appropriates theblessings that have been provided for sinners by the Father and Son, andwithout whose influence the Father would have planned the Redemptivescheme, and the Son have executed it, in vain. 2. In the second place, it is deserving of very careful notice that _theinfluences of the Holy Spirit may be obtained by asking for them_. Thisis the only condition to be complied with. And this gift, furthermore, ispeculiar, in that it is _invariably_ bestowed whenever it is sincerelyimplored. There are other gifts of God which may be asked for with deepand agonizing desire, and it is not certain that they will be granted. This is the case with temporal blessings. A sick man may turn his face tothe wall, with Hezekiah, and pray in the bitterness of his soul, for theprolongation of his life, and yet not obtain the answer which Hezekiahreceived. But no man ever supplicated in the earnestness of his soul forthe influences of the Holy Spirit, and was ultimately refused. For thisis a gift which it is always safe to grant. It involves a spiritual andeverlasting good. It is the gift of righteousness, of the fear and loveof God in the heart. There is no danger in such a bestowment. Itinevitably promotes the glory of God. Hence our Lord, after bidding hishearers to "ask, " to "seek, " and to "knock, " adds, as the encouragingreason why they should do so: "For, _every one_ that asketh receiveth;and he that seeketh, [always] findeth; and to him that knocketh, it shall[certainly] be opened. " This is a reason that cannot be assigned in theinstance of other prayers. Our Lord commands his disciples to pray fortheir daily bread; and we know that the children of God do generally findtheir wants supplied. Still, it would not be true that _every one_ who inthe sincerity of his soul has asked for daily bread has received it. Thechildren of God have sometimes died of hunger. But no soul that has everhungered for the bread of heaven, and supplicated for it, has been sentempty away. Nay more: Whoever finds it in his heart to ask for the HolySpirit may know, from this very fact, that the Holy Spirit hasanticipated him, and has prompted the very prayer itself. And think youthat God will not grant a request which He himself has inspired? Andtherefore, again, it is, that _every one_ who asks invariably receives. 3. The third remark suggested by the subject we have been considering is, that _it is exceedingly hazardous to resist Divine influences_. "Quenchnot the Spirit" is one of the most imperative of the Apostolicinjunctions. Our Lord, after saying that a word spoken against Himself ispardonable, adds that he that blasphemes against the Holy Ghost shallnever be forgiven, neither in this world nor in the world to come. TheNew Testament surrounds the subject of Divine influences with very greatsolemnity. It represents the resisting of the Holy Ghost to be asheinous, and dangerous, as the trampling upon Christ's blood. There is a reason for this. We have seen that in this operation upon themind and heart, God comes as near, and as close to man, as it is possiblefor Him to come. Now to grieve or oppose such a merciful, and such an_inward_ agency as this, is to offer the highest possible affront to themajesty and the mercy of God. It is a great sin to slight the gifts ofDivine providence, --to misuse health, strength, wealth, talents. It is adeep sin to contemn the truths of Divine Revelation, by which the soul ismade wise unto eternal life. It is a fearful sin to despise the claims ofGod the Father, and God the Son. But it is a transcendent sin to resistand beat back, _after it has been given_, that mysterious, that holy, that immediately Divine influence, by which alone the heart of stone canbe made the heart of flesh. For, it indicates something more than theordinary carelessness of a sinner. It evinces a determined _obstinacy_ insin, --nay, a Satanic opposition to God and goodness. It is of such aguilt as this, that the apostle John remarks: "There is a sin unto death;I do not say that one should pray for it. "[3] Again, it is exceedingly hazardous to resist Divine influences, becausethey depend wholly upon the good pleasure of God, and not at all upon anyestablished and uniform law. We must not, for a moment, suppose that theoperations of the Holy Spirit upon the human soul are like those of theforces of nature upon the molecules of matter. They are not uniform andunintermittent, like gravitation, and chemical affinity. We may availourselves of the powers of nature at any moment, because they aresteadily operative by an established law. They are laboring incessantly, and we may enter into their labors at any instant we please. But it isnot so with supernatural and gracious influences. God's awakening andrenewing power does not operate with the uniformity of those blindnatural laws which He has impressed upon the dull clod beneath our feet. God is not one of the forces of nature. He is a Person and a Sovereign. His special and highest action upon the human soul is not uniform. HisSpirit, He expressly teaches us, does not always strive with man. It is awind that bloweth when and where it listeth. For this reason, it isdangerous to the religious interests of the soul, in the highest degree, to go counter to any impulses of the Spirit, however slight, or toneglect any of His admonitions, however gentle. If God in mercy has oncecome in upon a thoughtless mind, and wakened it to eternal realities; ifHe has enlightened it to perceive the things that make for its peace; andthat mind slights this merciful interference, and stifles down theseinward teachings, then God withdraws, and whether He will ever returnagain to that soul depends upon His mere sovereign volition. He has boundhimself by no promise to do so. He has established no uniform law ofoperation, in the case. It is true that He is very pitiful and of tendermercy, and waits and bears long with the sinner; and it is also true, that He is terribly severe and just, when He thinks it proper to be so, and says to those who have despised His Spirit: "Because I have calledand ye refused, and have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded, Iwill laugh at your calamity, and mock when your fear cometh. " Let no one say: "God has promised to bestow the Holy Ghost to every onewho asks: I will ask at some future time. " To "ask" for the Holy Spiritimplies some already existing desire that He would enter the mind andconvince of sin, and convert to God. It implies some _craving_, some_yearning_, for Divine influences; and this implies some measure of suchinfluence already bestowed. Man asks for the Holy Spirit, only as he ismoved by the Holy Spirit. The Divine is ever prevenient to the human. Suppose now, that a man resists these influences when they are _already_at work within him, and says: "I will seek them at a more convenientseason. " Think you, that when that convenient season comes round, --whenlife is waning, and the world is receding, and the eternal gulf isyawning, --think you that that man who has already resisted grace can makehis own heart to yearn for it, and his soul to crave it? Do men at suchtimes find that sincere desires, and longings, and aspirations, come attheir beck? Can a man say, with any prospect of success: "I will nowquench out this seriousness which the Spirit of God has produced in mymind, and will bring it up again ten years hence. I will stifle thisdrawing of the Eternal Father of my soul which I now feel at the roots ofmy being, and it shall re-appear at a future day. " No! While it is true that any one who "asks, " who really _wants_ aspiritual blessing, will obtain it, it is equally true that a man mayhave no heart to ask, --may have no desire, no yearning, no aspiration atall, and be unable to produce one. In this case there is no promise. Whosoever _thirsts_, and _only_ he who thirsts, can obtain the water oflife. Cherish, therefore, the faintest influences and operations of theComforter. If He enlightens your conscience so that it reproaches you forsin, seek to have the work go on. Never resist any such convictions, andnever attempt to stifle them. If the Holy Spirit urges you to confessionof sin before God, yield _instantaneously_ to His urging, and pourout your soul before the All-Merciful. And when He says, "Behold the Lambof God, " look where He points, and be at peace and at rest. The secret ofall spiritual success is an immediate and uniform submission to theinfluences of the Holy Ghost. [Footnote 1: [Greek: _Anto, kath anto, meth anton, monoeides_. ]--PLATO:Convivium, p. 247, Ed. Bipont. ] [Footnote 2: Guyon: translated by Cowper. Is expressed by VAUGHAN inWorks III. 85. --A similar thought "The Eclipse. " "Thy anger I could kiss, and will; But O Thy grief, Thy grief doth kill. "] [Footnote 3: The sin against the Holy Ghost is unpardonable, not becausethere is a grade of guilt in it too scarlet to be washed white byChrist's blood of atonement but, because it implies a total quenching ofthat operation of the third Person of the Trinity which is the only poweradequate to the extirpation of sin from the human soul. The sin againstthe Holy Ghost is tantamount, therefore, to _everlasting_ sin. And it isnoteworthy, that in Mark iii. 29 the reading [Greek: _amartaemartos_], instead of [Greek: kriseos], is supported by a majority of theoldest manuscripts and versions, and is adopted by Lachmann, Tischendorf, and Tregelles. "He that shall blaspheme against the HolyGhost.... Is in danger of eternal _sin_. "] THE IMPOTENCE OF THE LAW. HEBREWS vii. 19. --"For the law made nothing perfect, but the bringing inof a better hope did; by the which we draw nigh to God. " It is the aim of the Epistle to the Hebrews, to teach the insufficiencyof the Jewish Dispensation to save the human race from the wrath of Godand the power of sin, and the all-sufficiency of the Gospel Dispensationto do this. Hence, the writer of this Epistle endeavors with specialeffort to make the Hebrews feel the weakness of their old and muchesteemed religion, and to show them that the only benefit which Godintended by its establishment was, to point men to the perfect and finalreligion of the Gospel. This he does, by examining the parts of the OldEconomy. In the first place, the _sacrifices_ under the Mosaic law werenot designed to extinguish the sense of guilt, --"for it is not possiblethat the blood of bulls and goats should take away sin, "--but wereintended merely to awaken the sense of guilt, and thereby to lead the Jewto look to that mercy of God which at a future day was to be exhibited inthe sacrifice of his eternal Son. The Jewish _priesthood_, again, standing between the sinner and God, were not able to avert the Divinedispleasure, --for as sinners they were themselves exposed to it. Theycould only typify, and direct the guilty to, the great High Priest, theMessiah, whom God's mercy would send in the fulness of time. Lastly, themoral _law_, proclaimed amidst the thunderings and lightnings of Sinai, had no power to secure obedience, but only a fearful power to produce theconsciousness of disobedience, and of exposure to a death far more awfulthan that threatened against the man who should touch the burningmountain. It was, thus, the design of God, by this legal and preparatorydispensation, to disclose to man his ruined and helpless condition, andhis need of looking to Him for everything that pertains to redemption. And he did it, by so arranging the dispensation that the Jew might, as itwere, make the trial and see if he could be his own Redeemer. Heinstituted a long and burdensome round of observances, by means of whichthe Jew might, if possible, extinguish the remorse of his conscience, andproduce the peace of God in his soul. God seems by the sacrifices underthe law, and the many and costly offerings which the Jew was commanded tobring into the temple of the Lord, to have virtually said to him: "Thouart guilty, and My wrath righteously abides within thy conscience, --yet, do what thou canst to free thyself from it; free thyself from it if thoucanst; bring an offering and come before Me. But when thou hast foundthat thy conscience still remains perturbed and unpacified, and thy heartstill continues corrupt and sinful, then look away from thy agency andthy offering, to My clemency and My offering, --trust not in these finitesacrifices of the lamb and the goat, but let them merely remind thee ofthe infinite sacrifice which in the fulness of time I will provide forthe sin of the world, --and thy peace shall be as a river, and thyrighteousness as the waves of the sea. " But the proud and legal spirit of the Jew blinded him, and he did notperceive the true meaning and intent of his national religion. He made itan end, instead of a mere means to an end. Hence, it became a mechanicalround of observances, kept up by custom, and eventually lost the power, which it had in the earlier and better ages of the Jewish commonwealth, of awakening the feeling of guilt and the sense of the need of aRedeemer. Thus, in the days of our Saviour's appearance upon the earth, the chosen guardians of this religion, which was intended to make menhumble, and feel their personal ill-desert and need of mercy, had becomeself-satisfied and self-righteous. A religion designed to prompt theutterance of the greatest of its prophets: "Woe is me! I am a man ofunclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips, " nowprompted the utterance of the Pharisee: "I thank Thee that I am not asother men are. " The Jew, in the times of our Saviour and his Apostles, had thus entirelymistaken the nature and purpose of the Old dispensation, and hence wasthe most bitter opponent of the New. He rested in the formal andceremonial sacrifice of bulls and goats, and therefore counted the bloodof the Son of God an unholy thing. He thought to appear before Him inwhose sight the heavens are not clean, clothed in his own righteousness, and hence despised the righteousness of Christ. In reality, he appealedto the justice of God, and therefore rejected the religion of mercy. But, this spirit is not confined to the Jew. It pervades the human race. Man is naturally a legalist. He desires to be justified by his owncharacter and his own works, and reluctates at the thought of beingaccepted upon the ground of another's merits. This Judaistic spirit isseen wherever there is none of the publican's feeling when he said, "Godbe merciful to me a sinner. " All confidence in personal virtue, allappeals to civil integrity, all attendance upon the ordinances of theChristian religion without the exercise of the Christian's penitence andfaith, is, in reality; an exhibition of that same legal unevangelicspirit which in its extreme form inflated the Pharisee, and led him totithe mint anise and cummin. Man's so general rejection of the Son of Godas suffering the just for the unjust, as the manifestation of the Divineclemency towards a criminal, is a sign either that he is insensible ofhis guilt, or else that being somewhat conscious of it he thinks tocancel it himself. Still, think and act as men may, the method of God in the Gospel is theonly method. Other foundation can no man lay than is laid. For it restsupon stubborn facts, and inexorable principles. _God_ knows that howeveranxiously a transgressor may strive to pacify his conscience, and prepareit for the judgment-day, its deep remorse can be removed only by theblood of incarnate Deity; that however sedulously he may attempt to obeythe law, he will utterly fail, unless he is inwardly renewed andstrengthened by the Holy Ghost. _He_ knows that mere bare law can make nosinner perfect again, but that only the bringing in of a "better hope"can, --a hope by the which we draw nigh to God. The text leads us to inquire: _Why cannot the moral law make fallen manperfect_? Or, in other words: _Why cannot the ten commandments save asinner_? That we may answer this question, we must first understand what is meantby a perfect man. It is one in whom there is no defect or fault of anykind, --one, therefore, who has no perturbation in his conscience, and nosin in his heart. It is a man who is entirely at peace with himself, andwith God, and whose affections are in perfect conformity with the Divinelaw. But fallen man, man as we find him universally, is characterized by botha remorseful conscience and an evil heart. His conscience distresses him, not indeed uniformly and constantly but, in the great emergencies of hislife, --in the hour of sickness, danger, death, --and his heart is selfishand corrupt continually. He lacks perfection, therefore, in twoparticulars; first, in respect to acquittal at the bar of justice, andsecondly, in respect to inward purity. That, therefore, which proposes tomake him perfect again, must quiet the sense of guilt upon valid grounds, and must produce a holy character. If the method fails in either of thesetwo respects, it fails altogether in making a perfect man. But how can the moral law, or the ceremonial law, or both united, producewithin the human soul the cheerful, liberating, sense of acquittal, andreconciliation with God's justice? Why, the very function and office-workof law, in all its forms, is to condemn and terrify the transgressor; howthen can it calm and soothe him? Or, is there anything in the performanceof duty, --in the act of obeying law, --that is adapted to produce thisresult, by taking away guilt? Suppose that a murderer could and shouldperform a perfectly holy act, would it be any relief to his anguishedconscience, if he should offer it as an oblation to Eternal Justice forthe sin that is past? if he should plead it as an offset for havingkilled a man? When we ourselves review the past, and see that we have notkept the law up to the present point in our lives, is the gnawing of theworm to be stopped, by resolving to keep it, and actually keeping it fromthis point? Can such a use of the law as this is, --can the performance ofgood works, imaginary or real ones, imperfect or perfect ones, --dischargethe office of an _atonement_, and so make us perfect in the forum ofconscience, and fill us with a deep and lasting sense of reconciliationwith the offended majesty and justice of God? Plainly not. For there isnothing compensatory, nothing cancelling, nothing of the nature of asatisfaction of justice, in the best obedience that was ever rendered tomoral law, by saint, angel, or seraph. _Because the creature owes thewhole_. He is obligated from the very first instant of his existence, onward and evermore, to love God supremely, and to obey him perfectly inevery act and element of his being. Therefore, the perfectly obedientsaint, angel, and seraph must each say: "I am an unprofitable servant, Ihave done only that which it was my duty to do; I can make no amends forpast failures; I can do no work that is meritorious and atoning. "Obedience to law, then, by a creature, and still less by a sinner, cannever atone for the sins that are past; can never make the guilty perfect"in things pertaining to conscience. " And if a man, in this indirect androundabout manner, neglects the provisions of the gospel, neglects theoblation of Jesus Christ, and betakes himself to the discharge of his ownduty as a substitute therefor, he only finds that the flame burns hotter, and the fang of the worm is sharper. If he looks to the moral law in anyform, and by any method, that he may get quit of his remorse and hisfears of judgment, the feeling of unreconciliation with justice, and thefearful looking-for of judgment is only made more vivid and deep. Whoeverattempts the discharge of duties _for the purpose of atoning for hissins_ takes a direct method of increasing the pains and perturbationswhich he seeks to remove. The more he thinks of law, and the more heendeavors to obey it for the purpose of purchasing the pardon of pasttransgression, the more wretched does he become. Look into the laceratedconscience of Martin Luther before he found the Cross, examine theanxiety and gloom of Chalmers before he saw the Lamb of God, for proofthat this is so. These men, at first, were most earnest in their use ofthe law in order to re-instate themselves in right relations with God'sjustice. But the more they toiled in this direction, the less theysucceeded. Burning with inward anguish, and with God's arrows stickingfast in him, shall the transgressor get relief from the attribute ofDivine justice, and the qualities of law? Shall the ten commandments ofSinai, in any of their forms or uses, send a cooling and calming virtuethrough the hot conscience? With these kindling flashes in hisguilt-stricken spirit, shall he run into the very identical fire thatkindled them? Shall he try to quench them in that "Tophet which is ordainedof old; which is made deep and large; the pile of which is fire and muchwood, and the breath of the Lord like a stream of brimstone doth kindleit?" And yet such is, in reality, the attempt of every man who, uponbeing convicted in his conscience of guilt before God, endeavors toattain peace by resolutions to alter his course of conduct, and strenuousendeavors to obey the commands of God, --in short by relying upon the lawin any form, as a means of reconciliation. Such is the suicidal effortof every man who substitutes the law for the gospel, and expects toproduce within himself the everlasting peace of God, by anything short ofthe atonement of God. Let us fix it, then, as a fact, that the feeling of culpability andunreconciliation can never be removed, so long as we do not look entirelyaway from our own character and works to the mere pure mercy of God inthe blood of Christ. The transgressor can never atone for crime byanything that he can suffer, or anything that he can do. He can neverestablish a ground of justification, a reason why he should be forgiven, by his tears, or his prayers, or his acts. Neither the law, nor hisattempts to obey the law, can re-instate him in his original relations tojustice, and make him perfect again in respect to his conscience. The tencommandments can never silence his inward misgivings, and his moralfears; for they are given for the very purpose of producing misgivings, and causing fears. "The law worketh wrath. " And if this truth andfact be clearly perceived, and boldly acknowledged to his own mind, itwill cut him off from all these legal devices and attempts, and will shuthim up to the Divine mercy and the Divine promise in Christ, where alonehe is safe. We have thus seen that one of the two things necessary in order thatapostate man may become perfect again, --viz. , the pacification of hisconscience, --cannot be obtained in and by the law, in any of its forms oruses. Let us now examine the other thing necessary in order to humanperfection, and see what the law can do towards it. The other requisite, in order that fallen man may become perfect again, is a holy heart and will. Can the moral law originate this? That we mayrightly answer the question, let us remember that a holy will is one thatkeeps the law of God spontaneously and that a perfect heart is one thatsends forth holy affections and pure thoughts as naturally as the sinfulheart sends forth unholy affections and impure thoughts. A holy will, like an evil will, is a wonderful and wonderfully fertile power. It doesnot consist in an ability to make a few or many separate resolutions ofobedience to the divine law, but in being itself one great inclinationand determination continually and mightily going forth. A holy will, therefore, is one that _from its very nature and spontaneity_ seeks God, and the glory of God. It does not even need to make a specific resolutionto obey; any more than an affectionate child needs to resolve to obey itsfather. In like manner, a perfect and holy heart is a far more profound andcapacious thing than men who have never seriously tried to obtain it deemit to foe. It does not consist in the possession of a few or many holythoughts mixed with some sinful ones, or in having a few or many holydesires together with some corrupt ones. A perfect heart is one undividedagency, and does not produce, as the imperfectly sanctified heart of theChristian does, fruits of holiness and fruits of sin, holy thoughts andunholy thoughts. It is itself a root and centre of holiness, and_nothing_ but goodness springs up from it. The angels of God are totallyholy. Their wills are unceasingly going forth towards Him with ease anddelight; their hearts are unintermittently gushing out emotions of love, and feelings of adoration, and thoughts of reverence, and therefore thesong that they sing is unceasing, and the smoke of their incenseascendeth forever and ever. Such is the holy will, and the perfect heart, which fallen man mustobtain in order to be fit for heaven. To this complexion must he come atlast. And now we ask: Can the law generate all this excellence within thehuman soul? In order to answer this question, we must consider the natureof law, and the manner of its operation. The law, as antithetic to thegospel, and as the word is employed in the text, is in its naturemandatory and minatory. It commands, and it threatens. This is the styleof its operation. Can a perfect heart be originated in a sinner by thesetwo methods? Does the stern behest, "Do this or die, " secure his willingand joyful obedience? On the contrary, the very fact that the law of Godcomes up before him coupled thus with a _threatening_ evinces that hisaversion and hostility are most intense. As the Apostle says, "The law isnot made for a righteous man; but for the lawless and disobedient, forthe ungodly and for sinners. " Were man, like the angels on high, sweetlyobedient to the Divine will, there would be no arming of law with terror, no proclamation of ten commandments amidst thunderings and lightnings. Hewould be a law unto himself, as all the heavenly host are, --the lawworking impulsively within him by its own exceeding lawfulness andbeauty. The very fact that God, in the instance of man, is compelled toemphasize the _penalty_ along with the statute, --to say, "Keep mycommandments _upon pain of eternal death_, "--is proof conclusive that manis a rebel, and intensely so. And now what is the effect of this combination of command and threateningupon the agent? Is he moulded by it? Does it congenially sway and inclinehim? On the contrary, is he not excited to opposition by it? When thecommandment "_comes_, " loaded down with menace and damnation, does notsin "revive, " as the Apostle affirms?[1] Arrest the transgressor in thevery act of disobedience, and ring in his ears the "Thou shalt _not_" ofthe decalogue, and does he find that the law has the power to alter hisinclination, to overcome his carnal mind, and make him perfect inholiness? On the contrary, the more you ply him with the stern command, and the more you emphasize the awful threatening, the more do you makehim conscious of inward sin, and awaken his depravity. "The law, "--as St. Paul affirms in a very remarkable text, --"is the _strength_ of sin, [2]"instead of being its destruction. Nay, he had not even ([Greek: te])known sin, but by the law: for he had not known lust, except the law hadsaid, "Thou shalt not lust. " The commandment stimulates instead ofextirpating his hostility to the Divine government; and so long as the_mere_ command, and the _mere_ threat, --which, as the hymn tells us, isall the law can do, --are brought to bear, the depravity of the rebelliousheart becomes more and more apparent, and more and more intensified. There is no more touching poem in all literature than that one in whichthe pensive and moral Schiller portrays the struggle of an ingenuousyouth who would find the source of moral purification in the moral law;who would seek the power that can transform him, in the mere imperativesof his conscience, and the mere struggling and spasms of his own will. Herepresents him as endeavoring earnestly and long to feel the force ofobligation, and as toiling sedulously to school himself into virtue, bythe bare power, by the dead lift, of duty. But the longer he tries, themore he loathes the restraints of law. Virtue, instead of growing lovelyto him, becomes more and more severe, austere, and repellant. His life, as the Scripture phrases it, is "under law, " and not under love. There isnothing spontaneous, nothing willing, nothing genial in his religion. Hedoes not enjoy religion, but he endures religion. Conscience does not, inthe least, renovate his will, but merely checks it, or goads it. Hebecomes wearied and worn, and conscious that after all his self-schoolinghe is the same creature at heart, in his disposition and affections, thathe was at the commencement of the effort, he cries out, "O Virtue, takeback thy crown, and let me sin. "[3] The tired and disgusted soul wouldonce more do a _spontaneous_ thing. Was, then, that which is good made death unto this youth, by a _Divine_arrangement? Is this the _original_ and _necessary_ relation which lawsustains to the will and affections of an accountable creature? Must thepure and holy law of God, from the very nature of things, be a wearinessand a curse? God forbid. But sin that it might _appear_ sin, workingdeath in the sinner by that which is good, --that sin by the commandmentmight become, might be seen to be, exceeding sinful. The law is like achemical test. It eats into sin enough to show what sin is, and therestops. The lunar caustic bites into the dead flesh of the mortified limb;but there is no healing virtue in the lunar caustic. The moral law makesno inward alterations in a sinner. In its own distinctive and properaction upon the heart and will of an apostate being, it is fitted only toelicit and exasperate his existing enmity. It can, therefore, no more bea source of sanctification, than it can be of justification. Of what use, then, is the law to a fallen man?--some one will ask. Why isthe commandment enunciated in the Scriptures, and why is the Christianministry perpetually preaching it to men dead in trespasses and sins? Ifthe law can subdue no man's obstinate will, and can renovate no man'scorrupt heart, --if it can make nothing perfect in human character, --then, "wherefore serveth the law?" "It was added because oftransgressions, "--says the Apostle in answer to this very question. [4] Itis preached and forced home in order to _detect_ sin, but not to removeit; to bring men to a consciousness of the evil of their hearts, but notto change their hearts. "For, " continues the Apostle, "if there had beena law given which could have given _life_"--which could produce atransformation of character, --"then verily righteousness should have beenby the law, " It is not because the stern and threatening commandment canimpart spiritual vitality to the sinner, but because it can produce withinhim the keen vivid sense of spiritual death, that it is enunciated in theword of God, and proclaimed from the Christian pulpit. The Divine law iswaved like a flashing sword before the eyes of man, not because it canmake him alive but, because it can slay him, that he may then be madealive, not by the law but by the Holy Ghost, --by the Breath that comethfrom the four winds and breathes on the slain. It is easy to see, by a moment's reflection, that, from the nature of thecase, the moral law cannot be a source of spiritual life andsanctification to a soul that has _lost_ these. For law primarilysupposes life, supposes an obedient inclination, and therefore does notproduce it. It is not the function of any law to impart that moral force, that right disposition of the heart, by which its command is to beobeyed. The State, for example, enacts a law against murder, but thismere enactment does not, and cannot, produce a benevolent disposition inthe citizens of the commonwealth, in case they are destitute of it. Howoften do we hear the remark, that it is impossible to legislate eithermorality or religion into the people. When the Supreme Governor firstplaced man under the obligations and sovereignty of law, He created himin His own image and likeness: endowing him with that holy heart andright inclination which obeys the law of God with ease and delight. Godmade man upright, and in this state he could and did keep the commandsof God perfectly. If, therefore, by any _subsequent action_ upon theirpart, mankind have gone out of the primary relationship in which theystood to law, and have by their _apostasy_ lost all holy sympathy withit, and all affectionate disposition to obey it, it only remains for thelaw (not to change along with them, but) to continue immutably the samepure and righteous thing, and to say, "Obey perfectly, and thou shaltlive; disobey in a single instance, and thou shalt die. " But the text teaches us, that although the law can make no sinful manperfect, either upon the side of justification, or of sanctification, "the bringing in of a better _hope_" can. This hope is the evangelichope, --the yearning desire, and the humble trust, --to be forgiven throughthe atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ, and to be sanctified by theindwelling power of the Holy Ghost. A simple, but a most powerful thing!Does the law, in its abrupt and terrible operation in my conscience, start out the feeling of guiltiness until I throb with anguish, and moralfear? I hope, I trust, I ask, to be pardoned through the blood of theEternal Son of God my Redeemer. I will answer all these accusationsof law and conscience, by pleading what my Lord has done. Again, does the law search me, and probe me, and elicit me, and revealme, until I would shrink out of the sight of God and of myself? I hope, Itrust, I ask, to be made pure as the angels, spotless as the seraphim, bythe transforming grace of the Holy Spirit. This confidence in Christ'sPerson and Work is the anchor, --an anchor that was never yet wrenchedfrom the clefts of the Rock of Ages, and never will be through the aeonsof aeons. By this hope, which goes away from self, and goes away from thelaw, to Christ's oblation and the Holy Spirit's energy, we do indeed drawvery nigh to God, --"heart to heart, spirit to spirit, life to life. " 1. The unfolding of this text of Scripture shows, in the first place, theimportance of having a _distinct and discriminating conception of law, and especially of its proper function in reference to a sinful being_. Very much is gained when we understand precisely what the moral law, astaught in the Scriptures, and written in our consciences, can do, andcannot do, towards our salvation. It can do nothing positively andefficiently. It cannot extinguish a particle of our guilt, and it cannotpurge away a particle of our corruption. Its operation is wholly negativeand preparatory. It is merely a schoolmaster to conduct us to Christ. Andthe more definitely this truth and fact is fixed in our minds, the moreintelligently shall we proceed in our use of law and conscience. 2. In the second place, the unfolding of this text shows the importanceof _using the law faithfully and fearlessly within its own limits; and inaccordance with its proper function_. It is frequently asked what thesinner shall do in the work of salvation. The answer is nigh thee, in thymouth, and in thy heart. Be continually applying the law of God to yourpersonal character and conduct. Keep an active and a searching consciencewithin your sinful soul. Use the high, broad, and strict commandment ofGod as an instrumentality by which all ease, and all indifference, in sinshall be banished from the breast. Employ all this apparatus of torture, as perhaps it may seem to you in some sorrowful hours, and break up thatmoral drowze and lethargy which is ruining so many souls. And then ceasethis work, the instant you have experimentally found out that the lawreaches a limit beyond which it cannot go, --that it forgives none of thesins which it detects, produces no change in the heart whose vileness itreveals, and makes no lost sinner perfect again. Having used the lawlegitimately, for purposes of illumination and conviction merely, leaveit forever as a source of justification and sanctification, and seekthese in Christ's atonement, and the Holy Spirit's gracious operation inthe heart. Then sin shall not have dominion over you; for you shall notbe under law, but under grace. After that _faith_ is come, ye are nolonger under a schoolmaster. For ye are then the children of God by faithin Christ Jesus. [5] How simple are the terms of salvation! But then they presuppose thiswork of the law, --this guilt-smitten conscience, and this wearying senseof bondage to sin. It is easy for a _thirsty_ soul to drink down thedraught of cold water. Nothing is simpler, nothing is more grateful tothe sensations. But suppose that the soul is satiated, and is not athirsty one. Then, nothing is more forced and repelling than this samedraught. So is it with the provisions of the gospel. Do we feel ourselvesto be guilty beings; do we hunger, and do we thirst for the expiation ofour sins? Then the blood of Christ is drink indeed, and his flesh ismeat with emphasis. But are we at ease and self-contented? Then nothingis more distasteful than the terms of salvation. Christ is a root out ofdry ground. And so long as we remain in this unfeeling and torpid state, salvation is an utter impossibility. The seed of the gospel cannotgerminate and grow upon a rock. [Footnote 1: Rom. Vii. 9-12. ] [Footnote 2: 1 Cor. Xv. 56. ] [Footnote 3: SCHILLER: Der Kampf. ] [Footnote 4: Galatians iii. 19. ] [Footnote 5: Galatians iii. 25, 26. ] SELF-SCRUTINY IN GOD'S PRESENCE. ISAIAH, i. 11. --"Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord;though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; thoughthey be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. " These words were at first addressed to the Church of God. The prophetIsaiah begins his prophecy, by calling upon the heavens and the earth towitness the exceeding sinfulness of God's chosen people. "Hear, Oheavens, and give ear O earth: for the Lord hath spoken; I have nourishedand brought up children, and they have rebelled against me. The oxknoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib: but Israel doth notknow, my people doth not consider. " Such ingratitude and sin as this, henaturally supposes would shock the very heavens and earth. Then follows a most vehement and terrible rebuke. The elect people of Godare called "Sodom, " and "Gomorrah. " "Hear the word of the Lord ye rulersof Sodom: give ear unto the law of our God ye people of Gomorrah. Whyshould ye be stricken, any more? ye will revolt more and more. " Thisoutflow of holy displeasure would prepare us to expect an everlastingreprobacy of the rebellious and unfaithful Church, but it is strangelyfollowed by the most yearning and melting entreaty ever addressed by theMost High to the creatures of His footstool: "Come now, and let us reasontogether, though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. " These words have, however, a wider application; and while the unfaithfulchildren of God ought to ponder them long and well, it is of equalimportance that "the aliens from the commonwealth of Israel" shouldreflect upon them, and see their general application to alltransgressors, so long as they are under the Gospel dispensation. Let us, then, consider two of the plain lessons taught, in these words of theprophet, to every unpardoned man. I. The text represents God as saying to the transgressor of his law, "Come and let us reason _together_. " The first lesson to be learned, consequently, is the duty of examining our moral character and conduct, _along with God_. When a responsible being has made a wrong use of his powers, nothing ismore reasonable than that he should call himself to account for thisabuse. Nothing, certainly, is more necessary. There can be no amendmentfor the future, until the past has been cared for. But that thisexamination may be both thorough and profitable, it must be made _incompany with the Searcher of hearts_. For there are always two beings who are concerned with sin; the being whocommits it, and the Being against whom it is committed. We sin, indeed, against ourselves; against our own conscience, and against our own bestinterest. But we sin in a yet higher, and more terrible sense, againstAnother than ourselves, compared with whose majesty all of our facultiesand interests, both in time and eternity, are altogether nothing andvanity. It is not enough, therefore, to refer our sin to the law writtenon the heart, and there stop. We must ultimately pass beyond conscienceitself, to God, and say, "Against _Thee_ have I sinned. " It is not thehighest expression of the religious feeling, when we say, "How can I dothis great wickedness, and sin against my conscience?" He alone hasreached the summit of vision who looks beyond all finite limits, however wide and distant, beyond all finite faculties however noble andelevated, and says, "How can I do this great wickedness, and sin againstGod?" Whenever, therefore, an examination is made into the nature of moral evilas it exists in the individual heart, both parties concerned should sharein the examination. The soul, as it looks within, should invite thescrutiny of God also, and as fast as it makes discoveries of itstransgression and corruption should realize that the Holy One sees also. Such a joint examination as this produces a very keen and clear sense ofthe evil and guilt of sin. Conscience indeed makes cowards of us all, butwhen the eye of God is felt to be upon us, it smites us to the ground. "When _Thou_ with rebukes, "--says the Psalmist, --"dost correct man forhis iniquity, Thou makest his beauty to consume away like a moth. " Onegreat reason why the feeling which the moralist has towards sin is sotame and languid, when compared with the holy abhorrence of theregenerate mind, lies in the fact that he has not contemplated humandepravity in company with a sin-hating Jehovah. At the very utmost, hehas been shut up merely with a moral sense which he has insulated fromits dread ground and support, --the personal character and holy emotionsof God. What wonder is it, then, that this finite faculty should losemuch of its temper and severity, and though still condemning sin (for itmust do this, if it does anything), fails to do it with that spiritualenergy which characterizes the conscience when God is felt to beco-present and co-operating. So it is, in other provinces. We feel theguilt of an evil action more sharply, when we know that a fellow-mansaw us commit it, than when we know that no one but ourselves iscognizant of the deed. The flush of shame often rises into our face, uponlearning accidentally that a fellow-being was looking at us, when we didthe wrong action without any blush. How much more criminal, then, do wefeel, when distinctly aware that the pure and holy God knows ourtransgression. How much clearer is our perception of the nature of moralevil, when we investigate it along with Him whose eyes are a flame offire. It is, consequently, a very solemn moment, when the human spirit and theEternal Mind are reasoning together about the inward sinfulness. Whenthe soul is shut up along with the Holy One of Israel, there are greatsearchings of heart. Man is honest and anxious at such a time. His usualthoughtlessness and torpidity upon the subject of religion leaves him, and he becomes a serious and deeply-interested creature. Would that themultitudes who listen so languidly to the statements of the pulpit, uponthese themes of sin and guilt, might be closeted with the EverlastingJudge, in silence and in solemn reflection. You who have for years beentold of sin, but are, perhaps, still as indifferent regarding it as ifthere were no stain, upon the conscience, --would that you might enterinto an examination of yourself, alone with your Maker. Then would youbecome as serious, and as anxious, as you will be in that moment when youshall be informed that the last hour of your life upon earth has come. Another effect of this "reasoning together" with God, respecting ourcharacter and conduct, is to render our views _discriminating_. Theaction of the mind is not only intense, it is also intelligent. Strangeas it may sound, it is yet a fact, that a review of our past livesconducted under the eye of God, and with a recognition of His presenceand oversight, serves to deliver the mind from confusion and panic, andto fill it with a calm and rational fear. This is of great value. For, when a man begins to be excited upon the subject of religion, --it may befor the first time, in his unreflecting and heedless life, --he isoftentimes terribly excited. He is now brought _suddenly_ into the midstof the most solemn things. That sin of his, the enormity of which he hadnever seen before, now reveals itself in a most frightful form, and hefeels as the murderer does who wakes in the morning and begins to realizethat he has killed a man. That holy Being, of whose holiness he had noproper conception, now rises dim and awful before his half-opened inwardeye, and he trembles like the pagan before the unknown God whom heignorantly worships. That eternity, which he had heard spoken of withtotal indifference, now flashes penal flames in his face. Taken and heldin this state of mind, the transgressor is confusedly as well as terriblyawakened, and he needs first of all to have this experience clarified, and know precisely for what he is trembling, and why. This panic andconsternation must depart, and a calm intelligent anxiety must take itsplace. But this cannot be, unless the mind turns towards God, and invitesHis searching scrutiny, and His aid in the search after sin. So long aswe shrink away from our Judge, and in upon ourselves, in these hours ofconviction, --so long as we deal only with the workings of our own minds, and do not look up and "reason together" with God, --we take the mostdirect method of producing a blind, an obscure, and a selfish agony. Wework ourselves, more and more, into a mere phrenzy of excitement. Some ofthe most wretched and fanatical experience in the history of the Churchis traceable to a solitary self-brooding, in which, after the sense ofsin had been awakened, the soul did not discuss the matter with God. For the character and attributes of God, when clearly seen, repress allfright, and produce that peculiar species of fear which is tranquilbecause it is deep. Though the soul, in such an hour, is conscious thatGod is a fearful object of sight for a transgressor, yet it continues togaze at Him with an eager straining eye. And in so doing, the superficialtremor and panic of its first awakening to the subject of religion passesoff, and gives place to an intenser moral feeling, the calmness of whichis like the stillness of fascination. Nothing has a finer effect upon acompany of awakened minds, than to cause the being and attributes of God, in all their majesty and purity, to rise like an orb within theirhorizon; and the individual can do nothing more proper, or more salutary, when once his sin begins to disquiet him, and the inward perturbationcommences, than to collect and steady himself, in an act of reflectionupon that very Being who _abhors_ sin. Let no man, in the hour ofconviction and moral fear, attempt to run away from the Divine holiness. On the contrary, let him rush forward and throw himself down prostratebefore that Dread Presence, and plead the merits of the Son of God, before it. He that finds his life shall lose it; but he that loses hislife shall find it. Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it remains a single unproductive corn of wheat; but if it _die_, itgerminates and brings forth much fruit. He who does not avoid a contactbetween the sin of his soul and the holiness of his God, but on thecontrary seeks to have these two things come together, that each may beunderstood in its own intrinsic nature and quality, takes the only safecourse. He finds that, as he knows God more distinctly, he knows himselfmore distinctly; and though as yet he can see nothing but displeasure inthat holy countenance, he is possessed of a well-defined experience. Heknows that he is wrong, and his Maker is right; that he is wicked, andthat God is holy. He perceives these two fundamental facts with asimplicity, and a certainty, that admits of no debate. The confusion andobscurity of his mind, and particularly the queryings whether thesethings are so, whether God is so very holy and man is so very sinful, begin to disappear, like a fog when disparted and scattered by sunrise. Objects are seen in their true proportions and meanings; right and wrong, the carnal mind and the spiritual mind, heaven and hell, --all the greatcontraries that pertain to the subject of religion, --are distinctlyunderstood, and thus the first step is taken towards a better state ofthings in the soul. Let no man, then, fear to invite the scrutiny of God, in connection withhis own scrutiny of himself. He who deals only with the sense of duty, and the operations of his own mind, will find that these themselvesbecome more dim and indistinct, so long as the process of examination isnot conducted in this joint manner; so long as the mind refuses to acceptthe Divine proposition, "Come now, and let us reason _together_. " He, onthe other hand, who endeavors to obtain a clear view of the Being againstwhom he has sinned, and to feel the full power of His holy eye as well asof His holy law, will find that his sensations and experiences aregaining a wonderful distinctness and intensity that will speedily bringthe entire matter to an issue. II. For then, by the blessing of God, he learns the second lesson taughtin the text: viz. , that _there is forgiveness with God_. Though, in thisprocess of joint examination, your sins be found to be as scarlet, theyshall be as white as snow; though they be discovered to be red likecrimson, they shall be as wool. If there were no forgiveness of sins, if mercy were not a manifestedattribute of God, all self-examination, and especially all this conjointdivine scrutiny, would be a pure torment and a pure gratuity. It iswretchedness to know that we are guilty sinners, but it is the endlesstorment to know that there is no forgiveness, either here or hereafter. Convince a man that he will never be pardoned, and you shut him up withthe spirits in prison. Compel him to examine himself under the eye of hisGod, while at the same time he has no hope of mercy, --and there would benothing _unjust_ in this, --and you distress him with the keenest and mostliving torment of which a rational spirit is capable. Well and naturalwas it, that the earliest creed of the Christian Church emphasized thedoctrine of the Divine Pity; and in all ages the Apostolic Symbol hascalled upon the guilt-stricken human soul to cry, "I believe in theforgiveness of sins. " We have the amplest assurance in the whole written Revelation of God, _but nowhere else_, that "there is forgiveness with Him, that He may befeared. " "Whoso confesseth and forsaketh his sins shall find mercy;" andonly with such an assurance as this from His own lips, could we summoncourage to look into our character and conduct, and invite God to do thesame. But the text is an exceedingly explicit assertion of this greattruth. The very same Being who invites us to reason with Him, and canvassthe subject of our criminality, in the very same breath, if we may sospeak, assures us that He will forgive all that is found in thisexamination. And upon _such_ terms, cannot the criminal well afford toexamine into his crime? He has a promise beforehand, that if he will butscrutinize and confess his sin it shall be forgiven. God would have beensimply and strictly just, had He said to him: "Go down into the depths ofthy transgressing spirit, see how wicked thou hast been and still art, and know that in my righteous severity I will never pardon thee, worldwithout end. " But instead of this, He says: "Go down into the depths ofthy heart, see the transgression and the corruption all along the line ofthe examination, confess it into my ear, and I will make the scarlet andcrimson guilt white in the blood of my own Son. " These declarations ofHoly Writ, which are a direct verbal statement from the lips of God, andwhich specify distinctly what He will do and will not do in the matter ofsin, teach us that however deeply our souls shall be found to be stained, the Divine pity outruns and exceeds the crime. "For as the heavens arehigh above the earth, so great is his mercy towards them that fear him. He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, howshall he not with him also freely give us all things?" Here upon earth, there is no wickedness that surpasses the pardoning love of God inChrist. The words which Shakspeare puts into the mouth of the remorseful, but _impenitent_, Danish king are strictly true: "What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood? Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy, But to confront the visage of offence?"[1] Anywhere this side of the other world, and at any moment this side of thegrave, a sinner, _if penitent_ (but penitence is not always at hiscontrol), may obtain forgiveness for all his sins, through Christ's bloodof atonement. He must not hope for mercy in the future world, if heneglects it here. There are no acts of pardon passed in the day ofjudgment. The utterance of Christ in _that_ day is not the utterance, "Thy sins are forgiven thee, " but, "Come ye blessed, " or "Depart yecursed. " So long, and only so long, as there is life there is hope, andhowever great may be the conscious criminality of a man while he is underthe economy of Redemption, and before he is summoned to render up hislast account, let him not despair but hope in Divine grace. Now, he who has seriously "reasoned together" with God, respecting hisown character, is far better prepared to find God in the forgiveness ofsins, than he is who has merely brooded over his own unhappiness, withoutany reference to the qualities and claims of his Judge. It has been aplain and personal matter throughout, and having now come to a clear andsettled conviction that he is a guilty sinner, he turns directly to thegreat and good Being who stands immediately before him, and prays to beforgiven, and _is_ forgiven. One reason why the soul so often gropes daysand months without finding a sin-pardoning God lies in the fact, that itsthoughts and feelings respecting religious subjects, and particularlyrespecting the state of the heart, have been too vague and indistinct. They have not had an immediate and close reference to that one singleBeing who is most directly concerned, and who alone can minister to amind diseased. The soul is wretched, and there may be some sense of sin, but there is no one to go to, --no one to address with an appealing cry. "Oh that I knew where I might find him, " is its language. "Oh that Imight come even to his seat. Behold I go forward, but he is not there;and backward, but I cannot perceive him. " But this groping would ceasewere there a clear view of God. There might not be peace and a sense ofreconciliation immediately; but there would be a distinct conception of_the one thing needful_ in order to salvation. This would banish allother subjects and objects. The eye would be fixed upon the single factof sin, and the simple fact that none but God can forgive it. The wholeinward experience would thus be narrowed down to a focus. Simplicity andintensity would be introduced into the mental state, instead of theprevious confusion and vagueness. Soliloquy would end, and prayer, importunate, agonizing prayer, would begin. That morbid and uselessself-brooding would cease, and those strong cryings and wrestlings tillday-break would commence, and the kingdom of heaven would suffer thisviolence, and the violent would take it by force. "When I _kept silence_;my bones waxed old, through my roaring all the day long. For day andnight thy hand was heavy upon me; my moisture was turned into the droughtof summer. I _acknowledged_ my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity I nolonger _hid_. I said, I will _confess_ my transgressions unto the Lord;and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin. For this, "--because this isThy method of salvation, --"shall every one that is godly pray untothee, in a time when thou mayest be found. " (Ps. Xxxii. 3-6. ) Self-examination, then, when joined with a distinct recognition of theDivine character, and a conscious sense of God's scrutiny, paradoxical asit may appear, is the surest means of producing a firm conviction in aguilty mind that God is merciful, and is the swiftest way of finding Himto be so. Opposed as the Divine nature is to sin, abhorrent as iniquityis to the pure mind of God, it is nevertheless a fact, that that sinnerwho goes directly into this Dread Presence with all his sins upon hishead, in order to know them, to be condemned and crushed by them, and toconfess them, is the one who soonest returns with peace and hope in hissoul. For, he discovers that God is as cordial and sincere in His offerto forgive, as He is in His threat to punish; and having, to his sorrow, felt the reality and power of the Divine anger, he now to his joy feelsthe equal reality and power of the Divine love. And this is the one great lesson which every man must learn, or perishforever. The _truthfulness_ of God, in every respect, and in allrelations, --His strict _fidelity to His word_, both under the law andunder the gospel, --is a quality of which every one must have a vividknowledge and certainty, in order to salvation. Men perish throughunbelief. He that doubteth is damned. To illustrate. Men pass throughthis life doubting and denying God's abhorrence of sin, and Hisdetermination to punish it forever and ever. Under the narcotic andstupefying influence of this doubt and denial, they remain in sin, and atdeath go over into the immediate presence of God, only to discover thatall His statements respecting His determination upon this subject are_true_, --awfully and hopelessly true. They then spend an eternity, inbewailing their infatuation in dreaming, while here upon earth, thatthe great and holy God did not mean what he said. Unbelief, again, tends to death in the other direction, though it is farless liable to result in it. The convicted and guilt-smitten mansometimes doubts the truthfulness of the Divine promise in Christ. Hespends days of darkness and nights of woe, because he is unbelieving inregard to God's compassion, and readiness to forgive a penitent; andwhen, at length, the light of the Divine countenance breaks upon him, hewonders that he was so foolish and slow of heart to believe all that Godhimself had said concerning the "multitude" of his tender mercies. Christian and Hopeful lay long and needlessly in the dungeon of DoubtingCastle, until the former remembered that the key to all the locks was inhis bosom, and had been all the while. They needed only to take God athis word. The anxious and fearful soul must believe the Eternal Judge_implicitly_, when he says: "I will justify thee through the blood ofChrist. " God is truthful under the gospel, and under the law; in Hispromise of mercy, and in His threatening of eternal woe. And "if webelieve not, yet He abideth faithful; He cannot deny Himself. " He hathpromised, and He hath threatened; and, though heaven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle of that promise shall not fail in the case of thosewho confidingly trust it, nor shall one iota or scintilla of thethreatening fail in the instance of those who have recklessly and rashlydisbelieved it. In respect, then, to both sides of the revelation of the Divinecharacter, --in respect to the threatening and the promise, --men need tohave a clear perception, and an unwavering belief. He that doubteth ineither direction is damned. He who does not believe that God is truthful, when He declares that He will "punish iniquity, transgression and sin, "and that those upon the left hand shall "go away into everlastingpunishment, " will persist in sin until he passes the line of probationand be lost. And he who does not believe that God is truthful, when Hedeclares that He will forgive scarlet and crimson sins through the bloodof Christ, will be overcome by despair and be also lost. But he whobelieves _both_ Divine statements with equal certainty, and perceives_both_ facts with distinct vision, will be saved. From these two lessons of the text, we deduce the following practicaldirections: 1. First: In all states of religious anxiety, we should _betake ourselvesinstantly and directly to God_. There is no other refuge for the humansoul but God in Christ, and if this fails us, we must renounce all hopehere and hereafter. "If this fail, The pillared firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble. "[2] We are, therefore, from the nature of the case, shut up to this course. Suppose the religious anxiety arise from a sense of sin, and the fear ofretribution. God is the only Being that can forgive sins. To whom, then, can such an one go but unto Him? Suppose the religious anxiety arisesfrom a sense of the perishing nature of earthly objects, and the soulfeels as if all the foundation and fabric of its hope and comfort wererocking into irretrievable ruin. God is the only Being who can help inthis crisis. In either or in any case, --be it the anxiety of theunforgiven, or of the child of God, --whatever be the species of mentalsorrow, the human soul is by its very circumstances driven to its Maker, or else driven to destruction. What more reasonable course, therefore, than to conform to thenecessities of our condition. The principal part of wisdom is to takethings as they are, and act accordingly. Are we, then, sinners, and infear for the final result of our life? Though it may seem to us likerunning into fire, we must nevertheless betake ourselves first andimmediately to that Being who hates and punishes sin. Though we seenothing but condemnation and displeasure in those holy eyes, we mustnevertheless approach them _just and simply as we are_. We must say withking David in a similar case, when he had incurred the displeasure ofGod: "I am in a great strait; [yet] let me fall into the hand of theLord, for very great are his mercies" (1 Chron. Xx. 13). We must sufferthe intolerable brightness to blind and blast us in our guiltiness, andlet there be an actual contact between the sin of our soul and theholiness of our God. If we thus proceed, in accordance with the facts ofour case and our position, we shall meet with a great and joyfulsurprise. Flinging ourselves helpless, and despairing of all otherhelp, --_rashly_, as it will seem to us, flinging ourselves off from theposition where we now are, and upon which we must inevitably perish, weshall find ourselves, to our surprise and unspeakable joy, caught ineverlasting, paternal arms. He who loses his life, --he who _dares_ tolose his life, --shall find it. 2. Secondly: In all our religious anxiety, we should _make a full andplain statement of everything to God_. God loves to hear the details ofour sin, and our woe. The soul that pours itself out as water will findthat it is not like water spilt upon the ground, which cannot be gatheredup again. Even when the story is one of shame and remorse, we find it tobe mental relief, patiently and without any reservation or palliation, toexpose the whole not only to our own eye but to that of our Judge. For, to this very thing have we been invited. This is precisely the "reasoningtogether" which God proposes to us. God has not offered clemency to asinful world, with the expectation or desire that there be on the part ofthose to whom it is offered, such a stinted and meagre confession, such aglozing over and diminution of sin, as to make that clemency appear avery small matter. He well knows the depth and the immensity of the sinwhich He proposes to pardon, and has made provision accordingly. In thephrase of Luther, it is no painted sinner who is to be forgiven, and itis no painted Saviour who is offered. The transgression is deep and real, and the atonement is deep and real. The crime cannot be exaggerated, neither can the expiation. He, therefore, who makes the plainest and mostchild-like statement of himself to God, acts most in accordance with themind, and will, and gospel of God. If man only be hearty, full, andunreserved in confession, he will find God to be hearty, full, andunreserved in absolution. Man is not straitened upon the side of the Divine mercy. The obstacle inthe way of his salvation is in himself; and the particular, fatalobstacle consists in the fact that he does not feel that he _needs_mercy. God in Christ stands ready to pardon, but man the sinner stands upbefore Him like the besotted criminal in our courts of law, with nofeeling upon the subject. The Judge assures him that He has a boundlessgrace and clemency to bestow, but the stolid hardened man is not evenaware that he has committed a dreadful crime, and needs grace andclemency. There is food in infinite abundance, but no hunger upon thepart of man. The water of life is flowing by in torrents, but men have nothirst. In this state of things, nothing can be done, but to pass asentence of condemnation. God cannot forgive a being who does not evenknow that he needs to be forgiven. Knowledge then, self-knowledge, is thegreat requisite; and the want of it is the cause of perdition. This"reasoning together" with God, respecting our past and present characterand conduct, is the first step to be taken by any one who would makepreparation for eternity. As soon as we come to a right understanding ofour lost and guilty condition, we shall cry: "Be merciful to me a sinner;create within me a clean heart, O God. " Without such anunderstanding, --such an intelligent perception of our sin and guilt, --wenever shall, and we never can. [Footnote 1: SHAKSPEARE: Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 4. ] [Footnote 2: MILTON: Comus, 597-599. ] SIN IS SPIRITUAL SLAVERY John viii. 34. --"Jesus answered them, Verily, verily I say unto you, whosoever committeth sin is the servant of sin. " The word [Greek: doulos] which is translated "servant, " in the text, literally signifies a slave; and the thought which our Lord actuallyconveyed to those who heard Him is, "Whosoever committeth sin is the_slave_ of sin. " The apostle Peter, in that second Epistle of his whichis so full of terse and terrible description of the effects of unbridledsensuality upon the human will, expresses the same truth. Speaking of theinfluence of those corrupting and licentious men who have "eyes full ofadultery, and that _cannot_ cease from sin, " he remarks that while theypromise their dupes "liberty, they themselves are the servants [slaves]of corruption: for of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he _broughtin bondage_. " Such passages as these, of which there are a great number in the Bible, direct attention to the fact that sin contains an element of_servitude_, --that in the very act of transgressing the law of God thereis a _reflex_ action of the human will upon itself, whereby it becomesless able than before to keep that law. Sin is the suicidal action of thehuman will. It destroys the power to do right, which is man's truefreedom. The effect of vicious habit in diminishing a man's ability toresist temptation is proverbial. But what is habit but a constantrepetition of wrong decisions, every single one of which _reacts_ uponthe faculty that put them forth, and renders it less strong and lessenergetic, to do the contrary. Has the old debauchee, just totteringinto hell, as much power of active resistance against the sin which hasnow ruined him, as the youth has who is just beginning to run that awfulcareer? Can any being do a wrong act, and be as sound in his will and asspiritually strong, after it, as he was before it? Did that abuse of freeagency by Adam, whereby the sin of the race was originated, leave theagent as it found him, --uninjured and undebilitated in his voluntarypower? The truth and fact is, that sin in and by its own nature and operations, tends to destroy all virtuous force, all holy energy, in any moral being. The excess of will to sin is the same as the defect of will to holiness. The degree of intensity with which any man loves and inclines to evil isthe measure of the amount of power to good which he has thereby lost. Andif the intensity be total, then the loss is entire. Total depravitycarries with it total impotence and helplessness. The more carefully weobserve the workings of our own wills, the surer will be our convictionthat they can ruin themselves. We shall indeed find that they cannot be_forced_, or ruined from the outside. But, if we watch the influence uponthe _will itself_, of its own wrong decisions, its own yielding totemptations, we shall discover that the voluntary faculty may be ruinedfrom within; may be made impotent to good by its own action; maysurrender itself with such an intensity and entireness to appetite, passion, and self-love, that it becomes unable to reverse itself, andovercome its own wrong disposition and direction. And yet there is no_compulsion_, from first to last, in the process. The man followshimself. He pursues his own inclination. He has his own way and doesas he pleases. He loves what he inclines to love, and hates what heinclines to hate. Neither God, nor the world, nor Satan himself, forcehim to do wrong. Sin is the most spontaneous of self-motion. Butself-motion has _consequences_ as much as any other motion. Becausetransgression is a _self_-determined act, it does not follow that it hasno reaction and results, but leaves the will precisely as it found it. Itis strictly true that man was not necessitated to apostatize; but it isequally true that if by his own self-decision he should apostatize, hecould not then and afterwards be as he was before. He would lose a_knowledge_ of God and divine things which he could never regain ofhimself. And he would lose a spiritual _power_ which he could never againrecover of himself. The bondage of which Christ speaks, when He says, "Whosoever committeth sin is the slave of sin, " is an effect within thesoul itself of an unforced act of self-will, and therefore is as trulyguilt as any other result or product of self-will, --as spiritualblindness, or spiritual hardness, or any other of the qualities of sin. Whatever springs from will, we are responsible for. The drunkard'sbondage and powerlessness issues from his own inclination andself-indulgence, and therefore the bondage and impotence is no excuse forhis vice. Man's inability to love God supremely results from his intenseself-will and self-love; and therefore his impotence is a part andelement of his sin, and not an excuse for it. "If weakness may excuse, What murderer, what traitor, parricide, Incestuous, sacrilegious, may not plead it? All wickedness is weakness. "[1] The doctrine, then, which is taught in the text, is the truth that _sinis spiritual slavery_; and it is to the proof and illustration of thisposition that we invite attention. The term "spiritual" is too often taken to mean unreal, fanciful, figurative. For man is earthly in his views as well as in his feelings, and therefore regards visible and material things as the emphaticrealities. Hence he employs material objects as the ultimate standard, bywhich he measures the reality of all other things. The natural man hasmore consciousness of his body, than he has of his soul; more sense ofthis world, than of the other. Hence we find that the carnal manexpresses his conception of spiritual things, by transferring to them, ina weak and secondary signification, words which he applies in a strongand vivid way only to material objects. He speaks of the "joy" of thespirit, but it is not such a reality for him as is the "joy" of the body. He speaks of the "pain" of the spirit, but it has not such a poignancyfor him as that anguish which thrills through his muscles and nerves. He knows that the "death" of the body is a terrible event, but transfersthe word "death" to the spirit with a vague and feeble meaning, notrealizing that the second death is more awful than the first, and isaccompanied with a spiritual distress compared with which, the sharpestagony of material dissolution would be a relief. He understands what ismeant by the "life" of the body, but when he hears the "eternal life" ofthe spirit spoken of, or when he reads of it in the Bible, it is with thefeeling that it cannot be so real and lifelike as that vital principlewhose currents impart vigor and warmth to his bodily frame. And yet, the life of the spirit is more intensely real than the life of the bodyis; for it has power to overrule and absorb it. Spiritual life, when infull play, is bliss ineffable. It translates man into the third heavens, where the fleshly life is lost sight of entirely, and the being, like St. Paul, does not know whether he is in the body or out of the body. The natural mind is deceived. Spirit has in it more of reality thanmatter has; because it is an immortal and indestructible essence, whilematter is neither. Spiritual things are more real than visible things;because they are eternal, and eternity is more real than time. Statementsrespecting spiritual objects, therefore, are more solemnly true than anythat relate to material things. Invisible and spiritual realities, therefore, are the standard by which all others should be tried; andhuman language when applied to them, instead of expressing too much, expresses too little. The imagery and phraseology by which the Scripturesdescribe the glory of God, the excellence of holiness, and the bliss ofheaven, on the one side, and the sinfulness of sin with the woe of hell, on the other, come short of the sober and actual matter of fact. We should, therefore, beware of the error to which in our unspiritualitywe are specially liable; and when we hear Christ assert that "whosoevercommitteth sin is the slave of sin, " we should believe and know, thatthese words are not extravagant, and contain no subtrahend, --that theyindicate a self-enslavement of the human will which is so real, so total, and so absolute, as to necessitate the renewing grace of God in order todeliverance from it. This bondage to sin may be discovered by every man. It must bediscovered, before one can cry, "Save me or I perish. " It must bediscovered, before one can feelingly assent to Christ's words, "Withoutme ye can do nothing. " It must be discovered, before one can understandthe Christian paradox, "When I am weak, then am I strong. " To aid themind, in coming to the conscious experience of the truth taught in thetext, we remark: I. Sin is spiritual slavery, if viewed in reference to man's _sense ofobligation to be perfectly holy_. The obligation to be holy, just, and good, as God is, rests upon everyrational being. Every man knows, or may know, that he ought to be perfectas his Father in heaven is perfect, and that he is a debtor to thisobligation until he has _fully_ met it. Hence even the holiest of men areconscious of sin, because they are not completely up to the mark of thishigh calling of God. For, the sense of this obligation is an exceedingbroad one, --like the law itself which it includes and enforces. Thefeeling of duty will not let us off, with the performance of only a partof our duty. Its utterance is: "Verily I say unto you, till heaven andearth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law till_all_ be fulfilled. " Law spreads itself over the whole surface and courseof our lives, and insists imperatively that every part and particle ofthem be pure and holy. Again, this sense of obligation to be perfect as God is perfect, isexceedingly deep. It is the most profound sense of which man ispossessed, for it outlives all others. The feeling of duty to God'slaw remains in a man's mind either to bless him or to curse him, when allother feelings depart. In the hour of death, when all the varied passionsand experiences which have engrossed the man his whole lifetime are dyingout of the soul, and are disappearing, one after another, likesignal-lights in the deepening darkness, this one particular feeling ofwhat he owes to the Divine and the Eternal law remains behind, and growsmore vivid, and painful, as all others grow dimmer and dimmer. Andtherefore it is, that in this solemn hour man forgets whether he has beenhappy or unhappy, successful or unsuccessful, in the world, and remembersonly that he has been a _sinner_ in it. And therefore it is, that a man'sthoughts, when he is upon his death-bed, do not settle upon his worldlymatters, but upon his sin. It is because the human conscience is the verycore and centre of the human being, and its sense of obligation to beholy is deeper than all other senses and sensations, that we hear thedying man say what the living and prosperous man is not inclined to say:"I have been wicked; I have been a sinner in the earth. " Now it might seem, at first sight, that this broad, deep, and abidingsense of obligation would be sufficient to overcome man's love of sin, and bring him up to the discharge of duty, --would be powerful enough tosubdue his self-will. Can it be that this strong and steady draft ofconscience, --strong and steady as gravitation, --will ultimately proveineffectual? Is not truth mighty, and must it not finally prevail, to thepulling down of the stronghold which Satan has in the human heart? Sosome men argue. So some men claim, in opposition to the doctrine ofDivine influences and of regeneration by the Holy Ghost. We are willing to appeal to actual experience, in order to settle thepoint. And we affirm in the outset, that exactly in proportion as a manhears the voice of conscience sounding its law within his breast, does hebecome aware, not of the strength but, of the bondage of his will, andthat in proportion as this sense of obligation to be _perfectly_ holyrises in his soul, all hope or expectation of ever becoming so by his ownpower sets in thick night. In our careless unawakened state, which is our ordinary state, we sin onfrom day to day, just as we live on from day to day, without beingdistinctly aware of it. A healthy man does not go about, holding hisfingers upon his wrist, and counting every pulse; and neither does asinful man, as he walks these streets and transacts all this business, think of and sum up the multitude of his transgressions. And yet, thatpulse all the while beats none the less; and yet, that will all the whiletransgresses none the less. So long as conscience is asleep, sin ispleasant. The sinful activity goes on without notice, we are happy insin, and we do not feel that it is slavery of the will. Though the chainsare actually about us, yet they do not gall us. In this condition, whichis that of every unawakened sinner, we are not conscious of the "bondageof corruption. " In the phrase of St. Paul, "we are alive without thelaw. " We have no feeling sense of duty, and of course have no feelingsense of sin. And it is in this state of things, that arguments areframed to prove the mightiness of mere conscience, and the power of baretruth and moral obligation, over the perverse human heart and will. But the Spirit of God awakens the conscience; that sense of obligation tobe _perfectly_ holy which has hitherto slept now starts up, and begins toform an estimate of what has been done in reference to it. The man hearsthe authoritative and startling law: "Thou shalt be perfect, as God is. "And now, at this very instant and point, begins the consciousness ofenslavement, --of being, in the expressive phrase of Scripture, "_sold_under sin. " Now the commandment "comes, " shows us first what we ought tobe and then what we actually are, and we "die. "[2] All moral strengthdies out of us. The muscle has been cut by the sword of truth, and thelimb drops helpless by the side. For, we find that the obligation isimmense. It extends to all our outward acts; and having covered the wholeof this great surface, it then strikes inward and reaches to everythought of the mind, and every emotion of the heart, and every motive ofthe will. We discover that we are under obligation at every conceivablepoint in our being and in our history, but that we have not metobligation at a single point. When we see that the law of God is broadand deep, and that sin is equally broad and deep within us; when we learnthat we have never thought one single holy thought, nor felt one singleholy feeling, nor done one single holy deed, because self-love is theroot and principle of all our work, and we have never purposed or desiredto please God by any one of our actions; when we find that everythinghas been required, and that absolutely nothing has been done, that we arebound to be perfectly holy this very instant, and as matter of fact aretotally sinful, we know in a most affecting manner that "whosoevercommitteth sin is the _slave_ of sin". But suppose that after this disheartening and weakening discovery of thedepth and extent of our sinfulness, we proceed to take the second step, and attempt to extirpate it. Suppose that after coming to a consciousnessof all this obligation resting upon us, we endeavor to comply with it. This renders us still more painfully sensible of the truth of ourSaviour's declaration. Even the regenerated man, who in this endeavor hasthe aid of God, is mournfully conscious that sin is the enslavement ofthe human will. Though he has been freed substantially, he feels that thefragments of the chains are upon him still. Though the love of God is thepredominant principle within him, yet the lusts and propensities of theold nature continually start up like devils, and tug at the spirit, todrag it down to its old bondage. But that man who attempts to overcomesin, without first crying, "Create within me a clean heart, O God, " feelsstill more deeply that sin is spiritual slavery. When _he_ comes to knowsin in reference to the obligation to be perfectly holy, it is withvividness and hopelessness. He sees distinctly that he ought to be aperfectly good being instantaneously. This point is clear. But instead oflooking up to the hills whence cometh his help, he begins, in a coldlegal and loveless temper, to draw upon his own resources. The first stepis to regulate his external conduct by the Divine law. He tries to put abridle upon his tongue, and to walk carefully before his fellow-men. Hefails to do even this small outside thing, and is filled withdiscouragement and despondency. But the sense of duty reaches beyond the external conduct, and the law ofGod pierces like the two-edged sword of an executioner, and discernsthe thoughts and motives of the heart. Sin begins to be seen in itsrelation to the inner man, and he attempts again to reform and change thefeelings and affections of his soul. He strives to wring the gall ofbitterness out of his own heart, with his own hands. But he failsutterly. As he resolves, and breaks his resolutions; as he finds evilthoughts and feelings continually coming up from the deep places of hisheart; he discovers his spiritual impotence, --his lack of control overwhat is deepest, most intimate, and most fundamental in his owncharacter, --and cries out: "I _am_ a slave, I am a _slave_ to myself. " If then, you would know from immediate consciousness that "whosoevercommitteth sin is the slave of sin, " simply view sin in the light of thatobligation to be _perfectly_ pure and holy which necessarily, andforever, rests upon a responsible being. If you would know that spiritualslavery is no extravagant and unmeaning phrase, but denotes a most realand helpless bondage, endeavor to get entirely rid of sin, and to beperfect as the spirits of just men made perfect. II. Sin is spiritual slavery, if viewed in reference to the _aspirations_of the human soul. Theology makes a distinction between common and special grace, --betweenthose ordinary influences of the Divine Spirit which rouse theconscience, and awaken some transient aspirations after religion, andthose extraordinary influences which actually renew the heart and will. In speaking, then, of the aspirations of the human soul, reference is hadto all those serious impressions, and those painful anxieties concerningsalvation, which require to be followed up by a yet mightier power fromGod, to prevent their being entirely suppressed again, as they are in amultitude of instances, by the strong love of sin and the world. Forthough man has fallen into a state of death in trespasses and sins, sothat if cut off from _every_ species of Divine influence, and left_entirely_ to himself, he would never reach out after anything but thesin which he loves, yet through the common influences of the Spirit ofGrace, and the ordinary workings of a rational nature not yet reprobated, he is at times the subject of internal stirrings and aspirations thatindicate the greatness and glory of the heights whence he fell. Under thepower of an awakened conscience, and feeling the emptiness of the world, and the aching void within him, man wishes for something better than hehas, or than he is. The minds of the more thoughtful of the ancientpagans were the subjects of these impulses, and aspirations; and theyconfess their utter inability to realize them. They are expressedupon every page of Plato, and it is not surprising that some of theChristian Fathers should have deemed Platonism, as well as Judaism, to bea preparation for Christianity, by its bringing man to a sense of hisneed of redemption. And it would stimulate Christians in their efforts togive revealed religion to the heathen, did they ponder the fact which thejournals of the missionary sometimes disclose, that the Divine Spirit isbrooding with His common and preparatory influence over the chaos ofPaganism, and that here and there the heathen mind faintly aspires to befreed from the bondage of corruption, --that dim stirrings, impulses, andwishes for deliverance, are awake in the dark heart of Paganism, but thatowing to the strength and inveteracy of sin in that heart they will proveineffectual to salvation, unless the gospel is preached, and the HolySpirit is specially poured out in answer to the prayers of Christians. Now, all these phenomena in the human soul go to show the rigid bondageof sin, and to prove that sin has an element of servitude in it. For whenthese impulses, wishes, and aspirations are awakened, and the mandiscovers that he is unable to realize them in actual character andconduct, he is wretchedly and thoroughly conscious that "whosoevercommitteth sin is the _slave_ of sin. " The immortal, heaven-descendedspirit, feeling the kindling touch of truth and of the Holy Ghost, thrills under it, and essays to soar. But sin hangs heavy upon it, and itcannot lift itself from the earth. Never is man so sensible of hisenslavement and his helplessness, as when he has a _wish_ but has no_will_. [3] Look, for illustration, at the aspirations of the drunkard to bedelivered from the vice that easily besets him. In his sober moments, they come thick and fast, and during his sobriety, and while under thelashings of conscience, he wishes, nay, even _longs_, to be freed fromdrunkenness. It may be, that under the impulse of these aspirations heresolves never to drink again. It may be, that amid the buoyancy thatnaturally accompanies the springing of hope and longing in the humansoul, he for a time seems to himself to be actually rising up from his"wallowing in the mire, " and supposes that he shall soon regain hisprimitive condition of temperance. But the sin is strong; for theappetite that feeds it is in his blood. Temptation with its witchingsolicitation comes before the will, --the weak, self-enslaved will. He_aspires_ to resist, but _will_ not; the spirit _would_ soar, but theflesh _will_ creep; the spirit has the _wish_, but the flesh has the_will_; the man longs to be sober, but actually is and remains adrunkard. And never, --be it noticed, --never is he more thoroughlyconscious of being a slave to himself, than when he thus _ineffectually_aspires and wishes to be delivered from himself. What has been said of drunkenness, and the aspiration to be freed fromit, applies with full force to all the sin and all the aspirations of thehuman soul. There is no independent and self-realizing power in a mereaspiration. No man overcomes even his vices, except as he is assisted bythe common grace of God. The self-reliant man invariably relapses intohis old habits. He who thinks he stands is sure to fall. But when, underthe influence of God's common grace, a man aspires to be freed from thedeepest of all sin, because it is the source of all particular acts oftransgression, --when he attempts to overcome and extirpate the originaland inveterate depravity of his heart, --he feels his bondage morethoroughly than ever. If it is wretchedness for the drunkard to aspireafter freedom from only a single vice, and fail of reaching it, is it notthe depth of woe, when a man comes to know "the plague of his heart, " andhis utter inability to cleanse and cure it? In this case, the bondage ofself-will is found to be absolute. At first sight, it might seem as if these wishes and aspirations of thehuman spirit, faint though they be, are proof that man is not totallydepraved, and that his will is not helplessly enslaved. So some menargue. But they forget, that these aspirations and wishes are _neverrealized_. There is no evidence of power, except from its results. Andwhere are the results? Who has ever realized these wishes andaspirations, in his heart and conduct? The truth is, that every_unattained_ aspiration that ever swelled the human soul is proofpositive, and loud, that the human soul is in bondage. These_ineffectual_ stirrings and impulses, which disappear like the morningcloud and the early dew, are most affecting evidences that "whosoevercommitteth sin is the _slave_ of sin. " They prove that apostate man hassunk, in one respect, to a lower level than that of the irrationalcreation. For, high ideas and truths cannot raise him. Lofty impulsesresult in no alteration, or elevation. Even Divine influences leave himjust where they find him, unless they are exerted in their highest gradeof irresistible grace. A brute surrenders himself to his appetites andpropensities, and lives the low life of nature, without being capable ofaspirations for anything purer and nobler. But man does this verything, --nay, immerses himself in flesh, and sense, and self, with anentireness and intensity of which the brute is incapable, --in the face ofimpulses and stirrings of mind that point him to the pure throne of God, and urge him to soar up to it! The brute is a creature of nature, becausehe knows no better, and can desire nothing better; but man is "as thebeasts that perish, " in spite of a better knowledge and a loftieraspiration! If then, you would know that "whosoever committeth sin is the _slave_ ofsin, " contemplate sin in reference to the aspirations of an apostatespirit originally made in the image of God, and which, because it is noteternally reprobated, is not entirely cut off from the common influencesof the Spirit of God. Never will you feel the bondage of your will moreprofoundly, than when under these influences, and in your moments ofseriousness and anxiety respecting your soul's salvation, you aspireand endeavor to overcome inward sin, and find that unless God grant youHis special and renovating grace, your heart will be sinful through alleternity, in spite of the best impulses of your best hours. These upwardimpulses and aspirations cannot accompany the soul into the state offinal hopelessness and despair, though Milton represents Satan assometimes looking back with a sigh, and a mournful memory, upon what hehad once been, [4]--yet if they should go with us there, they wouldmake the ardor of the fire more fierce, and the gnaw of the worm morefell. For they would help to reveal the strength of our sin, and theintensity of our rebellion. III. Sin is spiritual slavery, if viewed in reference to the _fears_ ofthe human soul. The sinful spirit of man fears the death of the body, and the Scripturesassert that by reason of this particular fear we are all our lifetime inbondage. Though we know that the bodily dissolution can have no effectupon the imperishable essence of an immortal being, yet we shrink backfrom it, as if the sentence, "Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shaltreturn, " had been spoken of the spirit, --as if the worm were to "feedsweetly" upon the soul, and it were to be buried up in the dark house ofthe grave. Even the boldest of us is disturbed at the thought of bodilydeath, and we are always startled when the summons suddenly comes: "Setthy house in order, for thou must die. " Again, the spirit of man fears that "fearful something after death, " thateternal judgment which must be passed upon all. We tremble at theprospect of giving an account of our own actions. We are afraid to reapthe harvest, the seed of which we have sown with our own hands. Thethought of going to a just judgment, and of receiving from the Judge ofall the earth, who cannot possibly do injustice to any of His creatures, only that which is our desert, shocks us to the centre of our being! Manuniversally is afraid to be judged with a righteous judgment! Manuniversally is terrified by the equitable bar of God! Again, the apostate spirit of man has an awful dread of eternity. Thoughthis invisible realm is the proper home of the human soul, and it wasmade to dwell there forever, after the threescore and ten years of itsresidence in the body are over, yet it shrinks back from an entrance intothis untried world, and clings with the desperate force of a drowning manto this "bank and shoal of time. " There are moments in the life of aguilty man when the very idea of eternal existence exerts a preternaturalpower, and fills him with a dread that paralyzes him. Never is the humanbeing stirred to so great depths, and roused to such intensity of action, as when it feels what the Scripture calls "the power of an _endless_life. " All men are urged by some ruling passion which is strong. The loveof wealth, or of pleasure, or of fame, drives the mind onward with greatforce, and excites it to mighty exertions to compass its end. But neveris a man pervaded by such an irresistible and overwhelming influence asthat which descends upon him in some season of religious gloom, --somehour of sickness, or danger, or death, --when the great eternity, withall its awful realities, and all its unknown terror, opens upon hisquailing gaze. There are times in man's life, when he is the subject ofmovements within that impel him to deeds that seem almost superhuman; butthat internal ferment and convulsion which is produced when all eternitypours itself through his being turns his soul up from the centre. Manwill labor convulsively, night and day, for money; he will dry up thebloom and freshness of health, for earthly power and fame; he willactually wear his body out for sensual pleasure. But what is theintensity and paroxysm of this activity of mind and body, if comparedwith those inward struggles and throes when the overtaken and startledsinner sees the eternal world looming into view, and with strong cryingand tears prays for only a little respite, and only a little preparation!"Millions for an inch of time, "--said the dying English Queen. "OEternity! Eternity! how shall I grapple with the misery that I must meetwith in _eternity_, "--says the man in the iron cage of Despair. Thisfinite world has indeed great power to stir man, but the other world hasan infinitely greater power. The clouds which float in the lower regionsof the sky, and the winds that sweep them along, produce great ruin anddestruction upon the earth, but it is only when the "windows of heavenare opened" that "the fountains of the great deep are broken up, " and"all in whose nostrils is the breath of life die, " and "every livingsubstance is destroyed which is upon the face of the ground. " When feararises in the soul of man, in view of an eternal existence for which heis utterly unprepared, it is overwhelming. It partakes of the immensityof eternity, and holds the man with an omnipotent grasp. If, now, we view sin in relation to these great fears of death, judgment, and eternity, we see that it is spiritual slavery, or the bondage of thewill. We discover that our terror is no more able to deliver us from the"bondage of corruption, " than our aspiration is. We found that in spiteof the serious stirrings and impulses which sometimes rise within us, westill continue immersed in sense and sin; and we shall also find that inspite of the most solemn and awful fears of which a finite being iscapable, we remain bondmen to ourselves, and our sin. The dread that goesdown into hell can no more ransom us, than can the aspiration that goesup into heaven. Our fear of eternal woe can no more change the heart, than our wish for eternal happiness can. We have, at some periods, faintly wished that lusts and passions had no power over us; and perhapswe have been the subject of still higher aspirings. But we are the samebeings, still. We are the same self-willed and self-enslaved sinners, yet. We have all our lifetime feared death, judgment, and eternity, andunder the influence of this fear we have sometimes resolved and promisedto become Christians. But we are the very same beings, still; we are thesame self-willed and self-enslaved sinners yet. Oh, never is the human spirit more deeply conscious of its bondage to itsdarling iniquity, than when these paralyzing fears shut down upon it, like night, with "a horror of great darkness. " When under theirinfluence, the man feels most thoroughly and wretchedly that his sin ishis ruin, and yet his sinful determination continues on, because"whosoever committeth sin is the _slave_ of sin, " Has it never happenedthat, in "the visions of the night when deep sleep falleth upon men, " aspirit passed before your face, like that which stood still before theTemanite; and there was silence, and a voice saying, "Man! Man! thou mustdie, thou must be judged, thou must inhabit eternity?" And when thespirit had departed, and while the tones of its solemn and startling crywere still rolling through your soul, did not a temptation to sin solicityou, and did you not drink in its iniquity like water? Have you not foundout, by mournful experience, that the most anxious forebodings of thehuman spirit, the most alarming fears of the human soul, and the mostsolemn warnings that come forth from eternity, have no prevailing powerover your sinful nature, but that immediately after experiencing them, and while your whole being is still quivering under their agonizingtouch, you fall, you rush, into sin? Have you not discovered that eventhat most dreadful of all fears, --the fear of the holy wrath of almightyGod, --is not strong enough to save you from yourself? Do you know thatyour love of sin has the power to stifle and overcome the mightiest ofyour fears, when you are strongly tempted to self-indulgence? Have you noevidence, in your own experience, of the truth of the poet's words: "The Sensual and the Dark rebel in vain, Slaves by their own compulsion. " If, then, you would know that "whosoever committeth sin is the _slave_ ofsin, " contemplate sin in relation to the fears which of necessity restupon a spirit capable, as yours is, of knowing that it must leave thebody, that it must receive a final sentence at the bar of judgment, andthat eternity is its last and fixed dwelling-place. If you would knowwith sadness and with profit, that sin is the enslavement of the willthat originates it, consider that all the distressing fears that haveever been in your soul, from the first, have not been able to set youfree in the least from innate depravity: but, that in spite of them allyour will has been steadily surrendering itself, more and more, to theevil principle of self-love and enmity to God. Call to mind the greatfight of anguish and terror which you have sometimes waged with sin, andsee how sin has always been victorious. Remember that you have oftendreaded death, --but you are unjust still. Remember that you have oftentrembled at the thought of eternal judgment, --but you are unregeneratestill. Remember that you have often started back, when the holy andretributive eternity dawned like the day of doom upon you, --butyou are impenitent still. If you view your own personal sin in referenceto your own personal fears, are you not a slave to it? Will or can yourfears, mighty as they sometimes are, deliver you from the bondage ofcorruption, and lift you above that which you love with all your heart, and strength, and might? It is perfectly plain, then, that "whosoever committeth sin is the slaveof sin, " whether we have regard to the feeling of obligation to beperfectly holy which is in the human conscience; or to the ineffectualaspirations which sometimes arise in the human spirit; or to the dreadfulfears which often fall upon it. Sin must have brought the human will intoa real and absolute bondage, if the deep and solemn sense of indebtednessto moral law; if the "thoughts that wander through eternity;" if theaspirations that soar to the heaven of heavens, and the fears thatdescend to the very bottom of hell, --if all these combined forces andinfluences cannot free it from its power. It was remarked in the beginning of this discourse, that the bondage ofsin is the result of the _reflex_ action of the human will upon itself. It is not a slavery imposed from without, but from within. The bondage ofsin is only a _particular aspect_ of sin itself. The element ofservitude, like the element of blindness, or hardness, or rebelliousness, is part and particle of that moral evil which deserves the wrath andcurse of God. It, therefore, no more excuses or palliates, than does anyother self-originated quality in sin. Spiritual bondage, like spiritualenmity to God, or spiritual ignorance of Him, or spiritual apathy towardsHim, is guilt and crime. And in closing, we desire to repeat and emphasize this truth. Whoeverwill enter upon that process of self-wrestling and self-conflict whichhas been described, will come to a profound sense of the truth which ourLord taught in the words of the text. All such will find and feel thatthey are in slavery, and that their slavery is their condemnation. Forthe anxious, weary, and heavy-laden sinner, the problem is notmysterious, because it finds its solution in the depths of his own_self-consciousness_. He needs no one to clear it up for him, and he hasneither doubts nor cavils respecting it. But, an objection always assails that mind which has not the key of aninward moral struggle to unlock the problem for it. When Christ assertsthat "whosoever committeth sin is the slave of sin, " the easy andindifferent mind is swift to draw the inference that this bondage is itsmisfortune, and that the poor slave does not deserve to be punished, butto be set free. He says as St. Paul did in another connection: "Nayverily, but let them come themselves, and fetch us out. " But this slaveryis a _self_-enslavement. The feet of this man have not been thrust intothe stocks by another. This logician must refer everything to its ownproper author, and its own proper cause. Let this spiritual bondage, therefore, be charged upon the _self_ that originated it. Let it bereferred to that self-will in which it is wrapped up, and of which it isa constituent element. It is a universally received maxim, that the agentis responsible for the _consequences_ of a voluntary act, as well as forthe act itself. If, therefore, the human will has inflicted a suicidalblow upon itself, and one of the consequences of its own determination isa total enslavement of itself to its own determination, then thisenslaving _result_ of the act, as well the act itself, must all go in toconstitute and swell the sum-total of human guilt. The miserabledrunkard, therefore, cannot be absolved from the drunkard's condemnation, upon the plea that by a long series of voluntary acts he has, in the end, so enslaved himself that no power but God's grace can save him. Themarble-hearted fiend in hell, the absolutely lost spirit in despair, cannot relieve his torturing sense of guilt, by the reflection that hehas at length so hardened his own heart that he cannot repent. Theunforced will of a moral being must be held responsible for both itsdirect, and its _reflex_ action; for both its sin, and its _bondage_ insin. The denial of guilt, then, is not the way out. He who takes this road"kicks against the goads. " And he will find their stabs thickening, thefarther he travels, and the nearer he draws to the face and eyes of God. But there is a way out. It is the way of self-knowledge and confession. This is the point upon which all the antecedents of salvation hinge. Hewho has come to know, with a clear discrimination, that he is in a guiltybondage to his own inclination and lust, has taken the very first steptowards freedom. For, the Redeemer, the Almighty Deliverer, is near thecaptive, so soon as the captive feels his bondage and confesses it. Themighty God walking upon the waves of this sinful, troubled life, stretches out _His_ arm, the very instant any sinking soul cries, "Lordsave me. " And unless that appeal and confession of helplessness _is_made, He, the Merciful and the Compassionate, will let the soul godown before His own eyes to the unfathomed abyss. If the sinking Peterhad not uttered that cry, the mighty hand of Christ would not have beenstretched forth. All the difficulties disappear, so soon as a manunderstands the truth of the Divine affirmation: "O Israel thou hastdestroyed thyself, "--it is a real destruction, and it is thy ownwork, --"but in ME is thy help. " [Footnote 1: MILTON: Samson Agonistes, 832-834. --One key to the solutionof the problem, how there can be bondage in the very seat offreedom, --how man can be responsible for sin, yet helpless init, --is to be found in this fact of a reflex action of the will uponitself, or, a reaction of self-action. Philosophical speculation uponthe nature of the human will has not, hitherto, taken this factsufficiently into account. The following extracts corroborate the viewpresented above. "My _will_ the enemy held, and _thence_ had made achain for me, and bound me. For, of a perverse _will_ comes _lust_; and alust yielded to becomes _custom_; and custom not resisted becomes_necessity_. By which links, as it were, joined together as in a chain, ahard bondage held me enthralled. " AUGUSTINE: Confessions, VIII. V. 10. "Every degree of inclination contrary to duty, which is and must besinful, implies and involves an equal degree of difficulty and inabilityto obey. For, indeed, such inclination of the heart to disobey, and thedifficulty or inability to obey, are precisely one and the same. Thiskind of difficulty or inability, therefore, always is great accordingto the strength and fixedness of the inclination to disobey; and itbecomes _total_ and _absolute_ [inability], when the heart is totallycorrupt and wholly opposed to obedience.... No man can act contrary tohis present inclination or choice. But who ever imagined that thisrendered his inclination and choice innocent and blameless, however wrongand unreasonable it might be. " SAMUEL HOPKINS: Works, I. 233-235. "Moral inability" is the being "unable to be willing. " EDWARDS: Freedomof the Will, Part I, sect. Iv. "Propensities, "--says a writer verydifferent from those above quoted, --"that are easily surmounted lead usunresistingly on; we yield to temptations so trivial that we despisetheir danger. And so we fall into perilous situations from which we mighteasily have preserved ourselves, but from which we now find it impossibleto extricate ourselves without efforts so superhuman as to terrify us, and we finally fall into the abyss, saying to the Almighty, 'Why hastThou made me so weak?' But notwithstanding our vain pretext, He addressesour conscience, saying, 'I have made thee _too weak to rise from thepit_, because I made thee _strong enough not to fall therein_. " ROUSSEAU:Confessions, Book II. ] [Footnote 2: Romans vii. 9-11. ] [Footnote 3: Some of the Schoolmen distinguished carefully between thetwo things, and denominated the former, _velleitas_, and the latter, _voluntas_. ] [Footnote 4: MILTON: Paradise Lost, IV. 23-25; 35-61. ] THE ORIGINAL AND THE ACTUAL RELATION OF MAN TO LAW. ROMANS vii. 10. --"The commandment which, was ordained to life, I found tobe unto death. " The reader of St. Paul's Epistles is struck with the seeminglydisparaging manner in which he speaks of the moral law. In one place, hetells his reader that "the law entered that the offence might abound;" inanother, that "the law worketh wrath;" in another, that "sin shall nothave dominion" over the believer because he is "not under the law;" inanother, that Christians "are become dead to the law;" in another, that"they are delivered from the law;" and in another, that "the strengthof sin is the law. " This phraseology sounds strangely, respecting thatgreat commandment upon which the whole moral government of God isfounded. We are in the habit of supposing that nothing that springs fromthe Divine law, or is in any way connected with it, can be evil or theoccasion of evil. If the law of holiness is the strength of sin; if itworketh wrath; if good men are to be delivered from it; what then shallbe said of the law of sin? Why is it, that St. Paul in a certain class ofhis representations appears to be inimical to the ten commandments, andto warn Christians against them? "Is the law sin?" is a question thatvery naturally arises, while reading some of his statements; and it is aquestion which he himself asks, because he is aware that it will belikely to start in the mind of some of his readers. And it is a questionto which he replies: "God forbid. Nay I had not known sin, but by thelaw. " The difficulty is only seeming, and not real. These apparentlydisparaging representations of the moral law are perfectly reconcilablewith that profound reverence for its authority which St. Paul felt andexhibited, and with that solemn and cogent preaching of the law for whichhe was so distinguished. The text explains and resolves the difficulty. "The commandment which was ordained to _life_, I found to be unto death. "The moral law, in its own _nature_, and by the Divine _ordination_, issuited to produce holiness and happiness in the soul of any and everyman. It was ordained to life. So far as the purpose of God, and theoriginal nature and character of man, are concerned, the ten commandmentsare perfectly adapted to fill the soul with peace and purity. In theunfallen creature, they work no wrath, neither are they the strength ofsin. If everything in man had remained as it was created, there wouldhave been no need of urging him to "become dead to the law, " to be"delivered from the law, " and not be "under the law. " Had man kept hisoriginal righteousness, it could never be said of him that "the strengthof sin is the law. " On the contrary, there was such a mutual agreementbetween the unfallen nature of man and the holy law of God, that thelatter was the very joy and strength of the former. The commandment wasordained to life, and it was the life and peace of holy Adam. The original relation between man's nature and the moral law wasprecisely like that between material nature and the material laws. Therehas been no apostasy in the system of matter, and all things remain thereas they were in the beginning of creation. The law of gravitation, thisvery instant, rules as peacefully and supremely in every atom of matter, as it did on the morning of creation. Should material nature be"delivered" from the law of gravitation, chaos would come again. Noportion of this fair and beautiful natural world needs to become "dead"to the laws of nature. Such phraseology as this is inapplicable to therelation that exists between the world of matter, and the system ofmaterial laws, because, in this material sphere, there has been norevolution, no rebellion, no great catastrophe analogous to the fall ofAdam. The law here was ordained to life, and the ordinance still stands. And it shall stand until, by the will of the Creator, these elementsshall melt with fervent heat, and these heavens shall pass away with agreat noise; until a new system of nature, and a new legislation for it, are introduced. But the case is different with man. He is not standing where he was, whencreated. He is out of his original relations to the law and government ofGod, and therefore that which was ordained to him for life, he now findsto be unto death. The food which in its own nature is suited to ministerto the health and strength of the well man, becomes poison and deathitself to the sick man. With this brief notice of the fact, that the law of God was ordained tolife, and that therefore this disparaging phraseology of St. Paul doesnot refer to the intrinsic nature of law, which he expressly informs us"is holy just and good, " nor to the original relation which man sustainedto it before he became a sinner, let us now proceed to consider someparticulars in which the commandment is found to be unto death, to every_sinful_ man. The law of God shows itself in the human soul, in the form of a _sense ofduty_. Every man, as he walks these streets, and engages in the businessor pleasures of life, hears occasionally the words: "Thou shalt; themshalt not. " Every man, as he passes along in this earthly pilgrimage, finds himself saying to himself: "I ought, I ought not. " This is thevoice of law sounding in the conscience; and every man may know, wheneverhe hears these words, that he is listening to the same authority that cutthe ten commandments into the stones of Sinai, and sounded that awfultrumpet, and will one day come in power and great glory to judge thequick and dead. Law, we say, expresses itself for man, while here uponearth, through the sense of duty. "A sense of duty pursues us ever, " saidWebster, in that impressive allusion to the workings of conscience, inthe trial of the Salem murderers. This is the accusing and condemning_sensation_, in and by which the written statute of God becomes a livingenergy, and a startling voice in the soul. Cut into the rock of Sinai, itis a dead letter; written and printed in our Bibles, it is still a deadletter; but wrought in this manner into the fabric of our ownconstitution, waylaying us in our hours of weakness, and irresolution, and secrecy, and speaking to our inward being in tones that are asstartling as any that could be addressed to the physical ear, --undergoingthis transmutation, and becoming a continual consciousness of duty andobligation, the law of God is more than a letter. It is a possessingspirit, and according as we obey or disobey, it is a guardian angel, or atormenting fiend. We have disobeyed, and therefore the sense of duty is atormenting sensation; the commandment which was ordained to life, isfound to be unto death. I. In the first place, to go into the analysis, the sense of duty is asorrow and a pain to sinful man, because it _places him under a continualrestraint_. No creature can be happy, so long as he feels himself under limitations. To be checked, reined in, and thwarted in any way, renders a manuneasy and discontented. The universal and instinctive desire forfreedom, --freedom from restraint, --is a proof of this. Every creaturewishes to follow out his inclination, and in proportion as he is hinderedin so doing, and is compelled to work counter to it, he is restless anddissatisfied. Now the sense of duty exerts just this influence, upon sinful man. Itopposes his wishes; it thwarts his inclination; it imposes a restraintupon his spontaneous desires and appetites. It continually hedges up hisway, and seeks to stop him in the path of his choice and his pleasure. Ifhis inclination were only in harmony with his duty; if his desires andaffections were one with the law of God; there would be no restraint fromthe law. In this case, the sense of duty would be a joy and not a sorrow, because, in doing his duty, he would be doing what he liked. There areonly two ways, whereby contentment can be introduced into the human soul. If the Divine law could be altered so that it should agree with man'ssinful inclination, he could be happy in sin. The commandment havingbecome like his own heart, there would, of course, be no conflict betweenthe two, and he might sin on forever and lap himself in Elysium. Andundoubtedly there are thousands of luxurious and guilty men, who, if theycould, like the Eastern Semiramis, would make lust and law alike in theirdecree;[1] would transmute the law of holiness into a law of sin; wouldput evil for good, and good for evil, bitter for sweet and sweet forbitter; in order to be eternally happy in the sin that they love. Theywould bring duty and inclination into harmony, by a method that wouldannihilate duty, would annihilate the eternal distinction between rightand wrong, would annihilate God himself. But this method, of course, isimpossible. There can be no transmutation of law, though there can be ofa creature's character and inclination. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but the commandment of God can never pass away. The only other mode, therefore, by which duty and inclination can be brought into agreement, and the continual sense of restraint which renders man so wretched beremoved, is to change the inclination. The instant the desires andaffections of our hearts are transformed, so that they accord with theDivine law, the conflict between our will and our conscience is at anend. When I come to love the law of holiness and delight in it, to obeyit is simply to follow out my inclination. And this, we have seen, is tobe happy. But such is not the state of things, in the unrenewed soul. Duty andinclination are in conflict. Man's desires appetites and tendencies arein one direction, and his conscience is in the other. The sense of dutyholds a whip over him. He yields to his sinful inclination, finds amomentary pleasure in so doing, and then feels the stings of thescorpion-lash. We see this operation in a very plain and striking manner, if we select an instance where the appetite is very strong, and the voiceof conscience is very loud. Take, for example, that particular sin whichmost easily besets an individual. Every man has such a sin, and knowswhat it is, Let him call to mind the innumerable instances in which thatparticular temptation has assailed him, and he will be startled todiscover how many thousands of times the sense of duty has put arestraint upon him. Though not in every single instance, yet in hundredsand hundreds of cases, the law of God has uttered the, "Thou shalt not, "and endeavored to prevent the consummation of that sin. And what awearisome experience is this. A continual forth-putting of an unlawfuldesire, and an almost incessant check upon it, from a law which is hatedbut which is feared. For such is the attitude of the natural heart towardthe commandment. "The carnal mind is _enmity_ against the law of God. "The two are contrary to one another; so that when the heart goes out inits inclination, it is immediately hindered and opposed by the law. Sometimes the collision between them is terrible, and the soul becomes;an arena of tumultuous passions. The heart and will are intenselydetermined to do wrong, while the conscience is unyielding anduncompromising, and utters its denunciations, and thunders its warnings. And what a dreadful destiny awaits that soul, in whom this conflict andcollision between the dictates of conscience, and the desires of theheart, is to be eternal! for whom, through all eternity, the holy law ofGod, which was ordained to life peace and joy, shall be found to be untodeath and woe immeasurable! II. In the second place, the sense of duty is a pain and sorrow to asinful man, because it _demands a perpetual effort_ from him. No creature likes to tug, and to lift. Service must be easy, in order tobe happy. If you lay upon the shoulders of a laborer a burden thatstrains his muscles almost to the point of rupture, you put him inphysical pain. His physical structure was not intended to be subjected tosuch a stretch. His Creator designed that the burden should beproportioned to the power, in such a manner that work should be play. Inthe garden of Eden, physical labor was physical pleasure, because thepowers were in healthy action, and the work assigned to them was not aburden. Before the fall, man was simply to dress and keep a garden; butafter the fall, he was to dig up thorns and thistles, and eat his breadin the sweat of his face. This is a _curse_, --the curse of beingcompelled to toil, and lift, and put the muscle to such a tension thatit aches. This is not the original and happy condition of the body, inwhich man was created. Look at the toiling millions of the human family, who like the poor ant "for one small grain, labor, and tug, and strive;"see them bending double, under the heavy weary load which they must carryuntil relieved by death; and tell me if this is the physical elysium, theearthly paradise, in which unfallen man was originally placed, and forwhich he was originally designed. No, the curse of labor, of perpetualeffort, has fallen upon the body, as the curse of death has fallen uponthe soul; and the uneasiness and unrest of the groaning and strugglingbody is a convincing proof of it. The whole physical nature of mangroaneth and travaileth in pain together until now, waiting for theadoption, that is the _redemption of the body_ from this penal necessityof perpetual strain and effort. The same fact meets us when we pass from the physical to the moral natureof man, and becomes much more sad and impressive. By creation, it wasa pleasure and a pastime for man to keep the law of God, to do spiritualwork. As created, he was not compelled to summon his energies, and strainhis will, and make a convulsive resolution to obey the commands of hisMaker. Obedience was joy. Holy Adam knew nothing of _effort_ in the pathof duty. It was a smooth and broad pathway, fringed with flowers, andleading into the meadows of asphodel. It did not become the "straight andnarrow" way, until sin had made obedience a toil, the sense of duty arestraint, and human life a race and a fight. By apostasy, the obligationto keep the Divine law perfectly, became repulsive. It was no longer easyfor man to do right; and it has never been easy or spontaneous to himsince. Hence, the attempt to follow the dictates of conscience alwayscosts an unregenerate man an effort. He is compelled to make aresolution; and a resolution is the sign and signal of a difficult andunwelcome service. Take your own experience for an illustration. Did youever, except as you were sweetly inclined and drawn by the renewing graceof God, attempt to discharge a duty, without discovering that you wereaverse to it, and that you must gather up your energies for the work, asthe leaper strains upon the tendon of Achilles to make the mortal leap. And if you had not become weary, and given over the effort; if you hadentered upon that sad but salutary passage in the religious experiencewhich is delineated in the seventh chapter of Romans; if you hadcontinued to struggle and strive to do your duty, until you grew faintand weak, and powerless, and cried out for a higher and mightier power tosuccor you; you would have known, as you do not yet, what a deadlyopposition there is between the carnal mind and the law of God, and whata spasmodic effort it costs an unrenewed man even to _attempt_ todischarge the innumerable obligations that rest upon him. Mankindwould know more of this species of toil and labor, and of the cleavingcurse involved in it, if they were under the same physical necessity inregard to it, that they lie under in respect to manual labor. A man_must_ dig up the thorns and thistles, he _must_ earn his bread in thesweat of his face, or he must die. Physical wants, hunger and thirst, set men to work physically, and keep them at it; and thus they wellunderstand what it is to have a weary body, aching muscles, and a tiredphysical nature. But they are not under the same species of necessity, inrespect to the wants and the work of the soul. A man may neglect these, and yet live a long and luxurious life upon the earth. He is not drivenby the very force of circumstances, to labor with his heart and will, ashe is to labor with his hands. And hence he knows little or nothing of aweary and heavy-laden soul; nothing of an aching heart and a tired will. He well knows how much strain and effort it costs to cut down forests, open roads, and reduce the wilderness to a fertile field; but he does notknow how much toil and effort are involved, in the attempt to convert thehuman soul into the garden of the Lord. Now in this demand for a _perpetual effort_ which is made upon thenatural man, by the sense of duty, we see that the law which was ordainedto life is found to be unto death. The commandment, instead of being apleasant friend and companion to the human soul, as it was in thebeginning, has become a strict rigorous task-master. It lays out anuncongenial work for sinful man to do, and threatens him with punishmentand woe if he does not do it. And yet the law is not a tyrant. It isholy, just, and good. This work which it lays out is righteous work, andought to be done. The wicked disinclination and aversion of the sinnerhave compelled the law to assume this unwelcome and threatening attitude. That which is good was not made death to man by God's agency, and by aDivine arrangement, but by man's transgression. [2] Sin produces thismisery in the human soul, through an instrument that is innocent, and inits own nature benevolent and kind. Apostasy, the rebellion andcorruption of the human heart, has converted the law of God into anexacting task-master and an avenging magistrate. For the law says toevery man what St. Paul says of the magistrate: "Rulers are not a terrorto good works, but to the evil. Wilt thou, then, not be afraid of thepower? Do that which is good, and thou shalt have praise of the same. Forhe is the minister of God to thee for good: _but if thou do that which isevil, be afraid_. " If man were only conformed to the law; if theinclination of his heart were only in harmony with his sense of duty; theten commandments would not be accompanied with any thunders orlightnings, and the discharge of duty would be as easy, spontaneous, and as much without effort, as the practice of sin now is. Thus have we considered two particulars in which the Divine law, originally intended to render man happy, and intrinsically adapted to doso, now renders him miserable. The commandment which was ordained tolife, he now finds to be unto death, because it places him under acontinual restraint, and drives him to a perpetual effort. These twoparticulars, we need not say, are not all the modes in which sin hasconverted the moral law from a joy to a sorrow. We have not discussed thegreat subject of guilt and penalty. This violated law charges home thepast disobedience and threatens an everlasting damnation, and thus fillsthe sinful soul with fears and forebodings. In this way, also, the lawbecomes a terrible organ and instrument of misery, and is found to beunto death. But the limits of this discourse compel us to stop thediscussion here, and to deduce some practical lessons which aresuggested by it. 1. In the first place, we are taught by the subject, as thus considered, that _the mere sense of duty is not Christianity_. If this is all that aman is possessed of, he is not prepared for the day of judgment, and thefuture life. For the sense of duty, alone and by itself, causes misery ina soul that has not performed its duty. The law worketh wrath, in acreature who has not obeyed the law. The man that doeth these thingsshall indeed live by them; but he who has not done them must die by them. There have been, and still are, great mistakes made at this point. Menhave supposed that an active conscience, and a lofty susceptibilitytowards right and wrong, will fit them to appear before God, and have, therefore, rejected Christ the Propitiation. They have substituted ethicsfor the gospel; natural religion for revealed. "I know, " says ImmanuelKant, "of but two beautiful things; the starry heavens above my head, andthe sense of duty within my heart. "[3] But, is the sense of duty_beautiful_ to apostate man? to a being who is not conformed to it? Doesthe holy law of God overarch him like the firmament, "tinged with a blueof heavenly dye, and starred with sparkling gold?" Nay, nay. If there beany beauty in the condemning law of God, for man the _transgressor_, itis the beauty of the lightnings. There is a splendor in them, but thereis a terror also. Not until He who is the end of the law forrighteousness has clothed me with His panoply, and shielded me from theirglittering shafts in the clefts of the Rock, do I dare to look at them, as they leap from crag to crag, and shine from the east even unto thewest. We do not deny that the consciousness of responsibility is a lofty one, and are by no means insensible to the grand and swelling sentimentsconcerning the moral law, and human duty, to which this noble thinkergives utterance. [4] But we are certain that if the sense of duty hadpressed upon him to the degree that it did upon St. Paul; had thecommandment "come" to him with the convicting energy that it did to St. Augustine, and to Pascal; he too would have discovered that the law whichwas ordained to life is found to be unto death. So long as man stands ata distance from the moral law, he can admire its glory and its beauty;but when it comes close to him; when it comes home to him; when itbecomes a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart; then itsglory is swallowed up in its terror, and its beauty is lost in its truth. Then he who was alive without the law becomes slain by the law. Then thisethical admiration of the decalogue is exchanged for an evangelical trustin Jesus Christ. 2. And this leads us to remark, in the second place, that this subjectshows _the meaning of Christ's work of Redemption_. The law for analienated and corrupt soul is a burden. It cannot be otherwise; for itimposes a perpetual restraint, urges up to an unwelcome duty, and chargeshome a fearful guilt. Christ is well named the _Redeemer_, because Hefrees the sinful soul from all this. He delivers it from the penalty, byassuming it all upon Himself, and making complete satisfaction to thebroken law. He delivers it from the perpetual restraint and the irksomeeffort, by so renewing and changing the heart that it becomes a delightto keep the law. We observed, in the first part of the discourse, that ifman could only bring the inclination of his heart into agreement with hissense of duty, he would be happy in obeying, and the consciousness ofrestraint and of hateful effort would disappear. This is precisely whatChrist accomplishes by His Spirit. He brings the human heart into harmonywith the Divine law, as it was in the beginning, and thus rescues it fromits bondage and its toil. Obedience becomes a pleasure, and the serviceof God, the highest Christian liberty. Oh, would that by the act offaith, you might experience this liberating effect of the redemption thatis in Christ Jesus. So long as you are out of Christ, you are under aburden that will every day grow heavier, and may prove to be fixed andunremovable as the mountains. That is a fearful punishment which the poetDante represents as being inflicted upon those who were guilty of pride. The poor wretches are compelled to support enormous masses of stone whichbend them over to the ground, and, in his own stern phrase, "crumple uptheir knees into their breasts. " Thus they stand, stooping over, everymuscle trembling, the heavy stone weighing them down, and yet they arenot permitted to fall, and rest themselves upon the earth. [5] In thiscrouching posture, they must carry the weary heavy load without relief, and with a distress so great that, in the poet's own language, "it seemed As he, who showed most patience in his look, Wailing exclaimed: I can endure no more. "[6] Such is the posture of man unredeemed. There is a burden on him, underwhich he stoops and crouches. It is a burden compounded of guilt andcorruption. It is lifted off by Christ, and by Christ only. The soulitself can never expiate its guilt; can never cleanse its pollution. Weurge you, once more, to the act of faith in the Redeemer of the world. Webeseech you, once more, to make "the redemption that is in Christ Jesus"your own. The instant you plead the merit of Christ's oblation, in simpleconfidence in its atoning efficacy, that instant the heavy burden islifted off by an Almighty hand, and your curved, stooping, trembling, aching form once more stands erect, and you walk abroad in the libertywherewith Christ makes the human creature free. [Footnote 1: "She in vice Of luxury was so shameless, that she made Liking to be lawful by promulged decree, To clear the blame she had herself incurr'd. " DANTE: Inferno, v. 56. ] [Footnote 2: Romans vii. 13, 14. ] [Footnote 3: KANT: Kritik der Praktischen Vernunft (Beschlusz). --DeStael's rendering, which is so well known, and which I have employed, is less guarded than the original. ] [Footnote 4: Compare the fine apostrophe to Duty. PRAKTISCHE VERNUNFT, p. 214, (Ed. Rosenkranz. )] [Footnote 5: "Let their eyes be darkened, that they may not see, and bowdown their back alway. " Rom. Xi. 10. ] [Footnote 6: DANTE: Purgatory x. 126-128. ] THE SIN OF OMISSION. Matthew xix. 20. --"The young man saith unto him, All these things have Ikept from my youth up: what lack I yet?" The narrative from which the text is taken is familiar to all readers ofthe Bible. A wealthy young man, of unblemished morals and amiabledisposition, came to our Lord, to inquire His opinion respecting his owngood estate. He asked what good thing he should do, in order to inheriteternal life. The fact that he applied to Christ at all, shows that hewas not entirely at rest in his own mind. He could truly say that he hadkept the ten commandments from his youth up, in an outward manner; andyet he was ill at ease. He was afraid that when the earthly life wasover, he might not be able to endure the judgment of God, and might failto enter into that happy paradise of which the Old Testament Scripturesso often speak, and of which he had so often read, in them. This youngman, though a moralist, was not a self-satisfied or a self-conceitedone. For, had he been like the Pharisee a thoroughly blinded andself-righteous person, like him he never would have approached Jesus ofNazareth, to obtain His opinion respecting his own religious characterand prospects. Like him, he would have scorned to ask our Lord's judgmentupon any matters of religion. Like the Pharisees, he would have said, "Wesee, "[1] and the state of his heart and his future prospects would havegiven him no anxiety. But he was not a conceited and presumptuousPharisee. He was a serious and thoughtful person, though not a pious andholy one. For, he did not love God more than he loved his worldlypossessions. He had not obeyed that first and great command, upon whichhang all the law and the prophets, conformity to which, alone, constitutes righteousness: "Thou shalt _love_ the Lord thy God with allthy heart, and all thy soul, and all thy mind, and all thy strength. " Hewas not right at heart, and was therefore unprepared for death andjudgment. This he seems to have had some dim apprehension of. For why, ifhe had felt that his external morality was a solid rock for his feet tostand upon, why should he have betaken himself to Jesus of Nazareth, toask: "What lack I yet?" It was not what he had done, but what he had left undone, that wakenedfears and forebodings in this young ruler's mind. The outward observanceof the ten commandments was right and well in its own way and place; butthe failure to obey, from the heart, the first and great command was thecondemnation that rested upon him. He probably knew this, in somemeasure. He was not confidently certain of eternal life; and therefore hecame to the Great Teacher, hoping to elicit from Him an answer that wouldquiet his conscience, and allow him to repose upon his morality whilehe continued to love this world supremely. The Great Teacher pierced himwith an arrow. He said to him, "If them wilt be perfect, go and sell thatthou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven:and come and follow me. " This direction showed him what he _lacked_. This incident leads us to consider the condemnation that rests upon everyman, for his _failure_ in duty; the guilt that cleaves to him, onaccount of what he has _not_ done. The Westminster Catechism defines sinto be "any _want of conformity_ unto, or any transgression of, the law ofGod. " Not to be conformed, in the heart, to the law and will of God, isas truly sin, as positively to steal, or positively to commit murder. Failure to come up to the line of rectitude is as punishable, as to stepover that line. God requires of His creature that he stand squarely_upon_ the line of righteousness; if therefore he is off that line, because he has not come up to it, he is as guilty as when hetransgresses, or passes across it, upon the other side. This is thereason that the sin of omission is as punishable as the sin ofcommission. In either case alike, the man is off the line of rectitude. Hence, in the final day, man will be condemned for what he lacks, forwhat he comes short of, in moral character. Want of conformity to theDivine law as really conflicts with the Divine law, as an overttransgression does, because it carries man off and away from it. Oneof the Greek words for sin [Greek: (amurtanein)] signifies, to miss themark. When the archer shoots at the target, he as really fails to strikeit, if his arrow falls short of it, as when he shoots over and beyond it. If he strains upon the bow with such a feeble force, that the arrow dropsupon the ground long before it comes up to the mark, his shot is as totala failure, as when he strains upon the bow-string with all his force, butowing to an ill-directed aim sends his weapon into the air. One of theNew Testament terms for sin contains this figure and illustration, inits etymology. Sin is a want of conformity unto, a failure to come clearup to, the line and mark prescribed by God, as well a violent andforcible breaking over and beyond the line and the mark. The _lack_ ofholy love, the _lack_ of holy fear, the _lack_ of filial trust andconfidence in God, --the negative absence of these and other qualities inthe heart is as truly sin and guilt, as is the positive and openviolation of a particular commandment, in the act of theft, or lying, orSabbath-breaking. We propose, then, to direct attention to that form and aspect of humandepravity which consists in coming short of the aim and end presented toman by his Maker, --that form and aspect of sin which is presented in theyoung ruler's inquiry: "What lack I yet?" It is a comprehensive answer to this question to say, that every naturalman lacks _sincere and filial love of God_. This was the sin of themoral, but worldly, the amiable, but earthly-minded, young man. Endowhim, in your fancy, with all the excellence you please, it still liesupon the face of the narrative, that he loved money more than he lovedthe Lord God Almighty. When the Son of God bade him go and sell hisproperty, and give it to the poor, and then come and follow Him as adocile disciple like Peter and James and John, he went away sad in hismind; for he had great possessions. This was a reasonable requirement, though a very trying one. To command a young man of wealth and standingimmediately to strip himself of all his property, to leave the circle inwhich he had been born and brought up, and to follow the Son of Man, whohad not where to lay His head, up and down through Palestine, throughgood report and through evil report, --to put such a burden upon such ayoung man was to lay him under a very heavy load. Looking at it from amerely human and worldly point of view, it is not strange that the youngruler declined to take it upon his shoulders; though he felt sad indeclining, because he had the misgiving that in declining he was sealinghis doom. But, had he _loved_ the Lord God with all his heart; had hebeen _conformed unto_ the first and great command, in his heart andaffections; had he not _lacked_ a spiritual and filial affection towardshis Maker; he would have obeyed. For, the circumstances under which this command was given must be bornein mind. It issued directly from the lips of the Son of God Himself. Itwas not an ordinary call of Providence, in the ordinary manner in whichGod summons man to duty. There is reason to suppose that the young rulerknew and felt that Christ had authority to give such directions. We knownot what were precisely his views of the person and office of Jesus ofNazareth; but the fact that he came to Him seeking instruction respectingthe everlasting kingdom of God and the endless life of the soul, and theyet further fact that he went away in sadness because he did not find itin his heart to obey the instructions that he had received, prove that hewas at least somewhat impressed with the Divine authority of our Lord. For, had he regarded Him as a mere ordinary mortal, knowing no more thanany other man concerning the eternal kingdom of God, why should His wordshave distressed him? Had this young ruler taken the view of our Lordwhich was held by the Scribes and Pharisees, like them he would neverhave sought instruction from Him in a respectful and sincere manner; and, like them, he would have replied to the command to strip himself of allhis property, leave the social circles to which he belonged, and followthe despised Nazarene, with the curling lip of scorn. He would not havegone away in sorrow, but in contempt. We must assume, therefore, thatthis young ruler felt that the person with whom he was conversing, andwho had given him this extraordinary command, had authority to give it. We do not gather from the narrative that he doubted upon this point. Hadhe doubted, it would have relieved the sorrow with which his mind wasdisturbed. He might have justified his refusal to obey, by theconsideration that this Jesus of Nazareth had no right to summon him, orany other man, to forsake the world and attach himself to His person andpurposes, if any such consideration had entered his mind. No, the sorrow, the deep, deep sorrow and sadness, with which he went away to thebeggarly elements of his houses and his lands, proves that he knew toowell that this wonderful Being who was working miracles, and speakingwords of wisdom that never man spake, had indeed authority and right tosay to him, and to every other man, "Go and sell that thou hast, and giveto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and followme. " Though the command was indeed an extraordinary one, it was given in anextraordinary manner, by an extraordinary Being. That young ruler was notrequired to do any more than you and I would be obligated to do, _in thesame circumstances_. It is indeed true, that in the _ordinary_ providenceof God, you and I are not summoned to sell all our possessions, anddistribute them to the poor, and to go up and down the streets of thiscity, or up and down the high-ways and by-ways of the land, asmissionaries of Christ. But if the call were _extra-ordinary_, --ifthe heavens should open above our heads, and a voice from the skiesshould command us in a manner not to be doubted or disputed to do thisparticular thing, we ought immediately to do it. And if the love of Godwere in our hearts; if we were inwardly "conformed unto" the Divine law;if there were nothing lacking in our religious character; we should obeywith the same directness and alacrity with which Peter and Andrew, andJames and John, left their nets and their fishing-boat, their earthlyavocations, their fathers and their fathers' households, and followedChrist to the end of their days. In the present circumstances of thechurch and the world, Christians must follow the ordinary indications ofDivine Providence; and though these do unquestionably call upon them tomake far greater sacrifices for the cause of Christ than they now make, yet they do not call upon them to sell _all_ that they have, and give itto the poor. But they ought to be ready and willing to do so, in case Godby any remarkable and direct expression should indicate that this isHis will and pleasure. Should our Lord, for illustration, descend again, and in His own person say to His people, as He did to the young ruler:"Sell all that ye have, and give to the poor, and go up and down theearth preaching the gospel, " it would be the duty of every rich Christianto strip himself of all his riches, and of every poor Christian to makehimself yet poorer, and of the whole Church to adopt the same course thatwas taken by the early Christians, who "had all things common, and soldtheir possessions and goods and parted them to all men, as every man hadneed. " The direct and explicit command of the Lord Jesus Christ to do anyparticular thing must be obeyed at all hazards, and at all cost. ShouldHe command any one of His disciples to lay down his life, or to undergoa severe discipline and experience in His service, He must be obeyed. This is what He means when He says, "If any man come to me, and hate nothis father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, andsisters, yea and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. Andwhosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after me, cannot be mydisciple" (Luke xiv. 26, 27). The young ruler was subjected to this test. It was his privilege, --and itwas a great privilege, --to see the Son of God face to face; to hear Hiswords of wisdom and authority; to know without any doubt or ambiguitywhat particular thing God would have him do. And he refused to do it. Hewas moral; he was amiable; but he refused _point-blank_ to obey thedirect command of God addressed to him from the very lips of God. It waswith him as it would be with us, if the sky should open over our heads, and the Son of God should descend, and with His own lips should commandus to perform a particular service, and we should be disobedient to theheavenly vision, and should say to the Eternal Son of God: "We will not. "Think you that there is nothing _lacking_ in such a character as this? Isthis religious perfection? Is such a heart as this "conformed unto" thelaw and will of God? If, then, we look into the character of the young ruler, we perceive thatthere was in it no supreme affection for God. On the contrary, he loved_himself_ with all his heart, and soul, and mind, and strength. Even hisreligious anxiety, which led him to our Lord for His opinion concerninghis good estate, proved to be a merely selfish feeling. He desiredimmortal felicity beyond the tomb, --and the most irreligious man uponearth desires this, --but he did not possess such an affection for God asinclined, and enabled, him to obey His explicit command to make asacrifice of his worldly possessions for His glory. And this lack ofsupreme love to God was _sin_. It was a deviation from the line ofeternal rectitude and righteousness, as really and truly as murder, adultery, or theft, or any outward breach of any of those commandmentswhich he affirmed he had kept from his youth up. This coming short of theDivine honor and glory was as much contrary to the Divine law, as anyovert transgression of it could be. For love is the fulfilling of the law. The whole law, according toChrist, is summed up and contained, in these words: "Thou shall _love_the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself. " To bedestitute of this heavenly affection is, therefore, to break the law atthe very centre and in the very substance of it. Men tell us, like thisyoung ruler, that they do not murder, lie, or steal, --that they observeall the commandments of the second table pertaining to man and theirrelations to man, --and ask, "What lack we yet?" Alexander Pope, in themost brilliant and polished poetry yet composed by human art, sums up thewhole of human duty in the observance of the rules and requirements ofcivil morality, and affirms that "an honest man is the noblest work ofGod. " But is this so? Has religion reached its last term, and ultimatelimit, when man respects the rights of property? Is a person who keepshis hands off the goods and chattels of his fellow-creature reallyqualified for the heavenly state, by reason of this fact and virtue ofhonesty? Has he attained the chief end of man?[2] Even if we couldsuppose a perfect obedience of all the statutes of the second table, while those of the first table were disobeyed; even if one could fulfilall his obligations to his neighbor, while failing in all his obligationsto his Maker; even if we should concede a perfect morality, without anyreligion; would it be true that this morality, or obedience of only oneof the two tables that cover the whole field of human duty, is sufficientto prepare man for the everlasting future, and the immediate presence ofGod? Who has informed man that the first table of the law is of noconsequence; and that if he only loves his neighbor as himself, he neednot love his Maker supremely? No! Affection in the heart towards the great and glorious God is the sumand substance of religion, and whoever is destitute of it is irreligiousand sinful in the inmost spirit, and in the highest degree. His faultrelates to the most excellent and worthy Being in the universe. He comesshort of his duty, in reference to that Being who _more than any otherone_ is entitled to his love and his services. We say, and we saycorrectly, that if a man fails of fulfilling his obligations towardsthose who have most claims upon him, he is more culpable than when hefails of his duty towards those who have less claims upon him. If a soncomes short of his duty towards an affectionate and self-sacrificingmother, we say it is a greater fault, than if he comes short of his dutyto a fellow-citizen. The parent is nearer to him than the citizen, and heowes unto her a warmer affection of his heart, and a more active serviceof his life, than he owes to his fellow-citizen. What would be thought ofthat son who should excuse his neglect, or ill-treatment, of the motherthat bore him, upon the ground that he had never cheated a fellow-man andhad been scrupulous in all his mercantile transactions! This but feeblyillustrates the relation which every man sustains to God, and the claimwhich God has upon every man. Our first duty and obligation relates toour Maker. Our fellow-creatures have claims upon us; the dear partners ofour blood have claims upon us; our own personality, with its infinitedestiny for weal or woe, has claims upon us. But no one of these; not allof them combined; have upon us that _first_ claim, which God challengesfor Himself. Social life, --the state or the nation to which webelong, --cannot say to us: "Thou shalt love me with all thy heart, andsoul, and mind, and strength. " The family, which is bone of our bone, andflesh of our flesh, cannot say to us: "Thou shalt love us, with all thysoul, mind, heart, and strength. " Even our own deathless and pricelesssoul cannot say to us: "Thou shalt love me supremely, and before allother beings and things. " But the infinite and adorable God, the Beingthat made us, and has redeemed us, can of right demand that we love andhonor Him first of all, and chiefest of all. There are two thoughts suggested by the subject which we have beenconsidering, to which we now invite candid attention. 1. In the first place, this subject _convicts every man of sin_. OurLord, by his searching reply to the young ruler's question, "What lack Iyet?" sent him away very sorrowful; and what man, in any age and country, can apply the same test to himself, without finding the sameunwillingness to sell all that he has and give to the poor, --the sameindisposition to obey any and every command of God that crosses hisnatural inclinations? Every natural man, as he subjects his character tosuch a trial as that to which the young ruler was subjected, willdiscover as he did that he lacks supreme love of God, and like him, if hehas any moral earnestness; if he feels at all the obligation of duty;will go away very sorrowful, because he perceives very plainly theconflict between his will and his conscience. How many a person, in thegenerations that have already gone to the judgment-seat of Christ, and inthe generation that is now on the way thither, has been at times broughtface to face with the great and first command, "Thou shall love the Lordthy God with all thy heart, " and by some particular requirement has beenmade conscious of his utter opposition to that great law. Some specialduty was urged upon him, by the providence, or the word, or the Spiritof God, that could not be performed unless his will were subjected toGod's will, and unless his love for himself and the world weresubordinated to his love of his Maker. If a young man, perhaps he wascommanded to consecrate his talents and education to a life ofphilanthropy and service of God in the gospel, instead of a life devotedto secular and pecuniary aims. God said to him, by His providence, and byconscience, "Go teach my gospel to the perishing; go preach my word, tothe dying and the lost. " But he loved worldly ease pleasure andreputation more than he loved God; and he refused, and went awaysorrowful, because this poor world looked very bright and alluring, and the path of self-denial and duty looked very forbidding. Or, if hewas a man in middle life, perhaps he was commanded to abate his interestin plans for the accumulation of wealth, to contract his enterprises, togive attention to the concerns of his soul and the souls of his children, to make his own peace with God, and to consecrate the remainder of hislife to Christ and to human welfare; and when this plain and reasonablecourse of conduct was dictated to him, he found his whole heart rising upagainst the proposition. Our Lord, alluding to the fact that there wasnothing in common between His spirit, and the spirit of Satan, said toHis disciples, "The prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in me"(John xiv. 30). So, when the command to love God supremely comes to thisman of the world, in any particular form, "it hath nothing in him. " Thisfirst and great law finds no ready and genial response within his heart, but on the contrary a recoil within his soul as if some great monster hadstarted up in his pathway. He says, in his mind, to the proposition:"Anything but that;" and, with the young ruler, he goes away sorrowful, because he knows that refusal is perdition. Is there not a wonderful power to _convict_ of sin, in this test? If youtry yourself, as the young man did, by the command, "Thou shalt notkill, " "Thou shalt not steal, " "Thou shalt not commit adultery, " you maysucceed, perhaps, in quieting your conscience, to some extent, and inpossessing yourself of the opinion of your fitness for the kingdom ofGod. But ask yourself the question, "Do I love God supremely, and am Iready and willing to do any and every particular thing that He shallcommand me to do, even if it is plucking out a right eye, or cutting offa right hand, or selling all my goods to give to the poor?" try yourselfby _this_ test, and see if you lack anything in your moral character. When this thorough and proper touch-stone of character is applied, thereis not found upon earth a just man that doeth good and sinneth not. Everyhuman creature, by this test is concluded under sin. Every man is found, lacking in what he ought to possess, when the words of the commandmentare sounded in his ear: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thyheart, and all thy soul, and all thy mind, and all thy strength. " Thissum and substance of the Divine law, upon which hang all the other laws, convinces every man of sin. For there is no escaping its force. Love ofGod is a distinct and definite feeling, and every person knows whether heever experienced it. Every man knows whether it is, or is not, anaffection of his heart; and he knows that if it be wanting, thefoundation of religion is wanting in his soul, and the sum and substanceof sin is there. 2. And this leads to the second and concluding thought suggested, by thesubject, namely, that _except a man be born again, he cannot see thekingdom of God. _ If there be any truth in the discussion through which wehave passed, it is plain and incontrovertible, that to be destitute ofholy love to God is a departure and deviation from the moral law. It is acoming short of the great requirement that rests upon every accountablecreature of God, and this is as truly sin and guilt as any violent andopen passing over and beyond the line of rectitude. The sin of omissionis as deep and damning as the sin of commission. "Forgive, "--said thedying archbishop Usher, --"forgive all my sins, especially my sins ofomission. " But, how is this lack to be supplied? How is this great hiatus in humancharacter to be filled up? How shall the fountain of holy and filialaffection towards God be made to gush up into everlasting life, withinyour now unloving and hostile heart? There is no answer to this questionof questions, but in the Person and Work of the Holy Ghost. If God shallshed abroad His love in your heart, by the Holy Ghost which is given untoyou, you will know the blessedness of a new affection; and will be ableto say with Peter, "Thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I lovethee. " You are shut up to this method, and this influence. To generatewithin yourself this new spiritual emotion which you have never yet felt, is utterly impossible. Yet you must get it, or religion, is impossible, and immortal life is impossible. Would that you might feel your straits, and your helplessness. Would that you might perceive your total lack ofsupreme love of God, as the young ruler perceived his; and would that, unlike him, instead, of going away from the Son of God, you would go toHim, crying, "Lord create within me a clean heart, and renew within me aright spirit. " Then the problem would be solved, and having peace withGod through the blood of Christ, the love of God would be shed abroad inyour hearts, through the Holy Ghost given unto you. [Footnote 1: John ix. 41. ] [Footnote 2: Even if we should widen the meaning of the word "honest, " inthe above-mentioned dictum of Pope, and make it include the Latin"honestum, " the same objection would lie against dictum. Honor andhigh-mindedness towards man is not love and reverence towards God. Thespirit of chivalry is not the spirit of Christianity. ] THE SINFULNESS OF ORIGINAL SIN. MATTHEW xix. 20. --"The young man saith unto him, All these things have Ikept from my youth up: what lack I yet?" In the preceding discourse from these words, we discussed that form andaspect of sin which consists in "coming short" of the Divine Law; or, asthe Westminster Creed states it, in a "want of conformity" unto it. Thedeep and fundamental sin of the young ruler, we found, lay in what helacked. When our Lord tested him, he proved to be utterly destitute oflove to God. His soul was a complete vacuum, in reference to that greatholy affection which fills the hearts of all the good beings before thethrone of God, and without which no creature can stand, or will wish tostand, in the Divine presence. The young ruler, though outwardly moraland amiable, when searched in the inward parts was found wanting in thesum and substance of religion. He did not love God; and he did lovehimself and his possessions. What man has omitted to do, what man is destitute of, --this is a speciesof sin which he does not sufficiently consider, and which is weighing himdown to perdition. The unregenerate person when pressed to repent of hissins, and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, often beats back the kindeffort, by a question like that which Pilate put to the infuriated Jews:"Why, what evil have I done?" It is the subject of his actual and overttransgressions that comes first into his thoughts, and, like the youngruler, he tells his spiritual friend and adviser that he has kept all thecommandments from his youth up. The conviction of sin would be morecommon if the natural man would consider his _failures_; if he would lookinto his heart and perceive what he is _destitute_ of, and into hisconduct and see what he has left _undone_. In pursuing this subject, we propose to show, still further, theguiltiness of every man, from the fact that he _lacks the originalrighteousness that once belonged to him_. We shall endeavor to provethat every child of Adam is under condemnation, or, in the words ofChrist, that "the wrath of God abides upon him" (John iii. 36), becausehe is not possessed of that pure and perfect character which, his Makergave him in the beginning. Man is culpable for not continuing to standupon the high and sinless position, in which he was originally placed. When the young ruler's question is put to the natural man, and theinquiry is made as to his defects and deficiency, it is invariablydiscovered that he lacks the image of God in which he was created. Andfor a rational being to be destitute of the image of God is sin, guilt, and condemnation, because every rational being has once received thisimage. God has the right to demand from every one of his responsible creatures, all that the creature _might_ be, had he retained possession of theendowments which he received at creation, and had he employed them withfidelity. The perfect gifts and capacities originally bestowed upon man, and not the mutilated and damaged powers subsequently arising froma destructive act of self-will, furnish the proper rule of measurement, in estimating human merit or demerit. The faculties of intelligence andwill as _unfallen_, and not as fallen, determine the amount ofholiness and of service that may be demanded, upon principles of strictjustice, from every individual. All that man "comes short" of this is somuch sin, guilt, and condemnation. When the great Sovereign and Judge looks down from His throne ofrighteousness and equity, upon any one of the children of men, Heconsiders what that creature was by _creation_, and compares hispresent character and conduct with the character with which he wasoriginally endowed, and the conduct that would naturally have flowedtherefrom. God made man holy and perfect. God created man in his ownimage (Gen. I. 26), "endued with knowledge, righteousness, and trueholiness, having the law of God written in his heart, and power to fulfilit. " This is the statement of the Creed which we accept as a fair andaccurate digest of the teachings of Revelation, respecting the primitivecharacter of man, and his original righteousness. And all evangelicalcreeds, however they may differ from each other in their definitions oforiginal righteousness, and their estimate of the perfections and powersgranted to man by creation, do yet agree that he stood higher when hecame from the hand of God than he now stands; that man's actual characterand conduct do not come up to man's created power and capacities. Solemnand condemning as it is, it is yet a fact, that inasmuch as every man wasoriginally made in the holy image of God, he ought, this very instant tobe perfectly holy. He ought to be standing upon a position that is ashigh above his actual position, as the heavens are high above the earth. He ought to be possessed of a moral perfection without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing. He ought to be as he was, when created inrighteousness and true holiness. He ought to be dwelling high up on thoselofty and glorious heights where he was stationed by the benevolenthand of his Maker, instead of wallowing in those low depths where he hasfallen by an act of apostasy and rebellion. Nothing short of thissatisfies the obligations that are resting upon him. An imperfectholiness, such as the Christian is possessed of while here upon earth, does not come up to the righteous requirement of the moral law; andcertainly that kind of moral character which belongs to the natural manis still farther off from the sum-total that is demanded. Let us press this truth, that we may feel its convicting and condemningenergy. When our Maker speaks to us upon the subject of His claims andour obligations, He tells us that when we came forth from nonentity intoexistence, from His hand, we were well endowed, and well furnished. Hetells us distinctly, that He did not create us the depraved and sinfulbeings that we now are. He tells us that these earthly affections, thiscarnal mind, this enmity towards the Divine law, this disinclinationtowards religion and spiritual concerns, this absorbing love of the worldand this supreme love of self, --that these were not implanted or infusedinto the soul by our wise, holy, and good Creator. This is not His work. This is no part of the furniture with which mankind were set up for aneverlasting existence. "God saw everything that he had made, and beholdit was very good. " (Gen. I. 31). We acknowledge the mystery thatoverhangs the union and connection of all men with the first man. We knowthat this corruption of man's nature, and this sinfulness of his heart, does indeed, appear at the very beginning of his individual life. He isconceived in sin, and shapen in iniquity (Ps. Li. 5). This selfishdisposition, and this alienation of the heart from God, is _native_depravity, is _inborn_ corruption. This we know both from Revelation, and observation. But we also know, from the same infallible Revelation, that though man is born a sinner from the sinful Adam, he was createda saint in the holy Adam. By origin he is holy, and by descent he issinful; because there has intervened, between his creation and his birth, that "offence of one man whereby all men were made sinners" (Rom. V. 18, 19). Though we cannot unravel the whole mystery of this subject, yet ifwe accept the revealed fact, and concede that God did originally make manin His own image, in righteousness and true holiness, and that man hassince unmade himself, by the act of apostasy and rebellion, [1]--if wetake this as the true and correct statement of the facts in the case, then we can see how and why it is, that God has claims upon His creature, man, that extend to what this creature originally was and was capable ofbecoming, and not merely to what he now is, and is able to perform. When, therefore, the young ruler's question, "What lack I?" is asked andanswered upon a broad scale, each and every man must say: "I lackoriginal righteousness; I lack the holiness with which God created man; Ilack that perfection of character which belonged to my rational andimmortal nature coming fresh from the hand of God in the person of Adam;I lack all that I should now be possessed of, had that nature notapostatized from its Maker and its Sovereign. " And when God forms Hisestimate of man's obligations; when He lays judgment to the line, andrighteousness to the plummet; He goes back to the _beginning_, He goesback to _creation_, and demands from His rational and immortal creaturethat perfect service which, he was capable of rendering by creation, butwhich now he is unable to render because of subsequent apostasy. For, God cannot adjust His demands to the alterations which sinful man makesin himself. This would be to annihilate all demands and obligations. A sliding-scale would be introduced, by this method, that would reducehuman duty by degrees to a minimum, where it would disappear. For, themore sinful a creature becomes, the less inclined, and consequently theless able does he become to obey the law of God. If, now, the EternalJudge shapes His requisitions in accordance with the shifting characterof His creature, and lowers His law down just as fast as the sinnerenslaves himself to lust and sin, it is plain that sooner or later allmoral obligation will run out; and whenever the creature becomes totallyenslaved to self and flesh, there will no longer be any claims restingupon him. But this cannot be so. "For the kingdom of heaven, "--says ourLord, --"is as a man travelling into a far country, who called hisown servants and delivered unto them his goods. And unto one he gave fivetalents, and to another two, and to another one; and straightway took hisjourney. " When the settlement was made. Each and every one of the partieswas righteously summoned to account for all that had originally beenintrusted to him, and to show a faithful improvement of the same. If anyone of the servants had been found to have "lacked" a part, or the whole, of the original treasure, because he had culpably lost it, think you thatthe fact that it was now gone from his possession, and was past recovery, would have been accepted as a valid excuse from the original obligationsimposed upon him? In like manner, the fact, that man cannot reinstatehimself in his original condition of holiness and blessedness, from whichhe has fallen by apostasy, will not suffice to justify him before God forbeing in a helpless state of sin and misery, or to give him any claimsupon God for deliverance from it. God can and does _pity_ him, in hisruined and lost estate, and if the creature will cast himself upon His_mercy_, acknowledging the righteousness of the entire claims of God uponhim for a sinless perfection and a perfect service, he will meet and findmercy. But if he takes the ground that he does not owe such an immensedebt as this, and that God has no right to demand from him, in hisapostate and helpless condition, the same perfection of character andobedience which holy Adam possessed and rendered, and which the unfallenangels possess and render, God will leave him to the workings ofconscience, and the operations of stark unmitigated law and justice. "Thekingdom of heaven, "--says our Lord, --"is likened unto a certain kingwhich would take account of his servants. And when he had begun toreckon, one was brought unto him which owed him ten thousand talents; butforasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, andhis wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. Theservant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, Lord, havepatience with me, and I will pay thee all. Then the lord of that servantwas moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt"(Matt, xviii. 28-27). But suppose that that servant had _disputed_ theclaim, and had put in an appeal to justice instead of an appeal to mercy, upon the ground that inasmuch as he had lost his property and had nothingto pay with, therefore he was not obligated to pay, think you that theking would have conceded the equity of the claim? On the contrary, hewould have entered into no argument in so plain a case, but would have"delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was dueunto him. " So likewise shall the heavenly Father do also unto you, and toevery man, who attempts to diminish the original claim of God to aperfect obedience and service, by pleading the fall of man, thecorruption of human nature, the strength of sinful inclination andaffections, and the power of earthly temptation. All these are man'swork, and not that of the Creator. This helplessness and bondage growsdirectly out of the nature of sin. "Whosoever committeth sin is theslave of sin. Know ye not, that to whom ye yield yourselves slaves toobey, his slaves ye are to whom ye obey; whether of sin unto death, or ofobedience unto righteousness?" (John viii. 34; Rom. Vi. 16). In view of the subject as thus discussed, we invite attention to somepractical conclusions that flow directly out of it. For, though we havebeen speaking upon one of the most difficult themes in Christiantheology, namely man's creation in holiness and his loss of holiness bythe apostasy in Adam, yet we have at the same time been speaking of oneof the most humbling, and practically profitable, doctrines in the wholecircle of revealed truth. We never shall arrive at any profound sense ofsin, unless we know and feel our guilt and corruption by nature; and weshall never arrive at any profound sense of our guilt and corruption bynature, unless we know and understand the original righteousness andinnocence in which we were first created. We can measure the great depthof the abyss into which, we have fallen, only by looking up to thosegreat heights in the garden of Eden, upon which our nature once stoodbeautiful and glorious, the very image and likeness of our Creator. 1. We remark then, in the first place, that it is the duty of every man_to humble himself on account of his lack of original righteousness, andto repent of it as sin before God. _ One of the articles of the Presbyterian Confession of Faith reads thus:_Every_ sin, both original and actual, being a transgression of therighteous law of God, and contrary thereunto, doth, in its own nature, bring _guilt_ upon the sinner, whereby he is "bound over to the wrath ofGod, and curse of the law, and so made subject to death, with allmiseries spiritual, temporal, and eternal. "[2] The Creed which we acceptsummons us to repent of original as well as actual sin; and it definesoriginal sin to be "the want of original righteousness, together with thecorruption of the whole nature. " The want of original righteousness, then, is a ground of condemnation, and therefore a reason for shame, andgodly sorrow. It is something which man once had, ought still to have, but now lacks; and therefore is ill-deserving, for the very same reasonthat the young ruler's lack of supreme love to God was ill-deserving. If we acknowledge the validity of the distinction between a sin ofomission and a sin of commission, and concede that each alike isculpable, [3] we shall find no difficulty with this demand of the Creed. Why should not you and I mourn over the total want of the image of God inour hearts, as much as over any other form and species of sin? Thisimage of God consists in holy reverence. When we look into our hearts, and find no holy reverence there, ought we not to be filled with shameand sorrow? This image of God consists in filial and supreme affectionfor God, such as the young ruler lacked; and when we look into ourhearts, and find not a particle of supreme love to God in them, oughtwe not to repent of this original, this deep-seated, this innatedepravity? This image of God, again, which was lost in our apostasy, consisted in humble constant trust in God; and when we search oursouls, and perceive that there is nothing of this spirit in them, but onthe contrary a strong and overmastering disposition to trust inourselves, and to distrust our Maker, ought not this discovery to wakenin us the very same feeling that Isaiah gave expression to, when he saidthat the whole head is sick, and the whole heart is faint; the very samefeeling that David gave expression to, when he cried: "Behold I wasshapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me?" This is to repent of original sin, and there is no mystery or absurdityabout it. It is to turn the eye inward, and see what is _lacking_ in ourheart and affections; and not merely what of outward and actualtransgressions we have committed. Those whose idea of moral excellence islike that of the young ruler; those who suppose holiness to consistmerely in the outward observance of the commandments of the second table;those who do not look into the depths of their nature, and contrast thetotal corruption that is there, with the perfect and positiverighteousness that ought to be there, and that was there bycreation, --all such will find the call of the Creed to repent of originalsin as well as of actual, a perplexity and an impossibility. But everyman who knows that the substance of piety consists in positive and holyaffections, --in holy reverence, love and trust, --and who discovers thatthese are wanting in him by nature, though belonging to him by creation, will mourn in deep contrition and self-abasement over that act ofapostasy by which this great change in human character, this great lackwas brought about. 2. In the second place, it follows from the subjectwe have discussed, that every man must, by some method, _recover hisoriginal righteousness, or be ruined forever_. "Without holiness no manshall see the Lord. " No rational creature is fit to appear in thepresence of his Maker, unless he is as pure and perfect as he wasoriginally made. Holy Adam was prepared by his creation in the imageof God, to hold blessed communion with God, and if he and his posterityhad never lost this image, they would forever be in fellowship with theirCreator and Sovereign. Holiness, and holiness alone, enables the creatureto stand with angelic tranquillity, in the presence of Him before whomthe heavens and the earth flee away. The loss of original righteousness, therefore, was the loss of the wedding garment; it was the loss of theonly robe in which the creature could appear at the banquet of God. Suppose that one of the posterity of sinful Adam, destitute of holy lovereverence and faith, lacking positive and perfect righteousness, shouldbe introduced into the seventh heavens, and there behold the infiniteJehovah. Would he not feel, with a misery and a shame that could not beexpressed, that he was naked? that he was utterly unfit to appear in sucha Presence? No wonder that our first parents, after their apostasy, feltthat they were unclothed. They were indeed stripped of their character, and had not a rag of righteousness to cover them. No wonder that they hidthemselves from the intolerable purity and brightness of the Most High. Previously, they had felt no such emotion. They were "not ashamed, " weare told. And the reason lay in the fact that, before their apostasy, they were precisely as they were made. They were endowed with the imageof God; and their original righteousness and perfect holiness qualifiedthem to stand before their Maker, and to hold blessed intercourse withHim. But the instant they lost their created endowment of holiness, theywere conscious that they lacked that indispensable something wherewith toappear before God. And precisely so is it, with their posterity. Whatever a man's theory ofthe future life may be, he must be insane, if he supposes that he is fitto appear before God, and to enter the society of heaven, if destitute ofholiness, and wanting the Divine image. When the spirit of man returns toGod who gave it, it must return as good as it came from His hands, or itwill be banished from the Divine presence. Every human soul, when it goesback to its Maker, must carry with it a righteousness, to say the veryleast, equal to that in which it was originally created, or it will becast out as an unprofitable and wicked servant. _All_ the talentsentrusted must be returned; and returned with usury. A modern philosopherand poet represents the suicide as justifying the taking of his own life, upon the ground that he was not asked in the beginning, whether he wantedlife. He had no choice whether he would come into existence or not;existence was forced upon him; and therefore he had a right to put an endto it, if he so pleased. To this, the reply is made, that he ought toreturn his powers and faculties to the Creator in as _good condition_ ashe received them; that he had no right to mutilate and spoil them byabuse, and then fling the miserable relics of what was originally a noblecreation, in the face of the Creator. In answer to the suicide'sproposition to give back his spirit to God who gave it, the poetrepresents God as saying to him: "Is't returned as 'twas sent? Is't no worse for the wear? Think first what you are! Call to mind what you were! I gave you innocence, I gave you hope, Gave health, and genius, and an ample scope. Return you me guilt, lethargy, despair? Make out the invent'ry; inspect, compare! Then die, --if die you dare!"[4] Yes, this is true and solemn reasoning. You and I, and every man, must bysome method, or other, go back to God as good as we came forth from Him. We must regain our original righteousness; we must be reinstated in ourprimal relation to God, and our created condition; or there is nothing instore for us, but the blackness of darkness. We certainly cannot stand inthe judgment clothed with original sin, instead of originalrighteousness; full of carnal and selfish affections, instead of pure andheavenly affections. This great lack, this great vacuum, in ourcharacter, must by some method be filled up with solid, and everlastingexcellencies, or the same finger that wrote, in letters of fire, upon thewall of the Babylonian monarch, the awful legend: "Thou art weighed inthe balance, and art found wanting, " will write it in letters of fireupon our own rational spirit. There is but one method, by which man's original righteousness andinnocency can be regained; and this method you well know. The blood ofJesus Christ sprinkled by the Holy Ghost, upon your guilty conscience, reinstates you in innocency. When that is applied, there is no more guiltupon you, than there was upon Adam the instant he came from the creativehand. "There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus. " Whois he that condemneth, when it is Christ that died, and God thatjustifies? And when the same Holy Spirit enters your soul with renewingpower, and carries forward His work of sanctification to its finalcompletion, your original righteousness returns again, and you are againclothed in that spotless robe with which your nature was invested, onthat sixth day of creation, when the Lord God said, "Let us make man inour image, and after our likeness. " Ponder these truths, and what is yetmore imperative, _act_ upon them. Remember that you must, by some method, become a perfect creature, in order to become a blessed creature inheaven. Without holiness you cannot see the Lord. You must recover thecharacter which you have lost, and the peace with God in which you werecreated. Your spirit, when it returns to God, must by some method be madeequal to what it was when it came forth from Him. And there is no method, but the method of redemption by the blood and righteousness of Christ. Men are running to and fro after other methods. The memories of a goldenage, a better humanity than they now know of, haunt them; and they sighfor the elysium that is gone. One sends you to letters, and culture, foryour redemption. Another tells you that morality, or philosophy, willlift you again to those paradisaical heights that tower high above yourstraining vision. But miserable comforters are they all. No golden agereturns; no peace with God or self is the result of such instrumentality. The conscience is still perturbed, the forebodings still overhang thesoul like a black cloud, and the heart is as throbbing and restless asever. With resoluteness, then, turn away from these inadequate, thesefeeble methods, and adopt the method of God Almighty. Turn away withcontempt from human culture, and finite forces, as the instrumentalityfor the redemption of the soul which is precious, and which ceasethforever if it is unredeemed. Go with confidence, and courage, and arational faith, to God Almighty, to God the Redeemer. He hath power. Heis no feeble and finite creature. He waves a mighty weapon, and sweatsgreat drops of blood; travelling in the greatness of His strength. HearHis words of calm confidence and power: "Come unto me, all ye that laborand are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. " [Footnote 1: The Augustinian doctrine, that the entire human species wascreated on the sixth day, existed as a _nature_ (not as individuals) inthe first human pair, acted in and fell with them in the firsttransgression, and us thus fallen and vitiated by an act of self-will hasbeen procreated or individualized, permits the theologian, to say thatall men are equally concerned in the origin of sin, and to charge theguilt of its origin upon all alike. ] [Footnote 2: CONFESSION OF FAITH. VI. Vi. ] [Footnote 3: One of the points of difference between the Protestant andthe Papist, when the dogmatic position of each was taken, related to theguilt of original sin, --the former affirming, and the latter denying. Itis also one of the points of difference between Calvinism andArminianism. ] [Footnote 4: Coleridge; Works, VII. 295. ] THE APPROBATION OF GOODNESS IS NOT THE LOVE OF IT. ROMANS ii. 21--23. --"Thou therefore which, teachest another, teachestThou not thyself? thou that preachest a man should not steal, dost thousteal? thou that sayest a man should not commit adultery, dost thoucommit adultery? thou that abhorrest idols, dost thou commit sacrilege?thou that makest thy boast of the law, through, breaking the lawdishonorest thou God?" The apostle Paul is a very keen and cogent reasoner. Like a powerfullogician who is confident that he has the truth upon his side, and like apureminded man who has no sinister ends to gain, he often takes his standupon the same ground with his opponent, adopts his positions, andcondemns him out of his own mouth. In the passage from which the text istaken, he brings the Jew in guilty before God, by employing the Jew's ownclaims and statements. "Behold thou art called a Jew, and restest in thelaw, and makest thy boast of God, and knowest his will, and approvest thethings that are more excellent, and art confident that thou thyself art aguide of the blind, a light of them which are in darkness, an instructorof the foolish. Thou therefore which teachest another, teachest thou notthyself? thou that preachest that a man should not steal, dost thousteal? thou that makest thy boast of the law, through breaking the lawdishonorest thou God?" As if he had said: "You claim to be one of God'schosen people, to possess a true knowledge of Him and His law; why do younot act up to this knowledge? why do you not by your character andconduct prove the claim to be a valid one?" The apostle had already employed this same species of argument againstthe Gentile world. In the first chapter of this Epistle to the Romans, St. Paul demonstrates that the pagan world is justly condemned by God, because, they too, like the Jew, knew more than they practised. Heaffirms that the Greek and Roman world, like the Jewish people, "whenthey knew God, glorified him not as God, neither were thankful;" that as"they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them overto a reprobate mind;" and that "knowing the judgment of God, that theywhich commit such things" as he had just enumerated in that awfulcatalogue of pagan vices "are worthy of death, not only do the same, buthave pleasure in them that do them. " The apostle does not for an instantconcede, that the Gentile can put in the plea that he was so entirelyignorant of the character and law of God, that he ought to be excusedfrom the obligation to love and obey Him. He expressly affirms that wherethere is absolutely no law, and no knowledge of law, there can be notransgression; and yet affirms that in the day of judgment every mouthmust be stopped, and the whole world must plead guilty before God. It isindeed true, that he teaches that there is a difference in the degrees ofknowledge which the Jew and the Gentile respectively possess. The lightof revealed religion, in respect to man's duty and obligations, is farclearer than the light of nature, and increases the responsibilities ofthose who enjoy it, and the condemnation of those who abuse it; but thelight of nature is clear and true as far as it goes, and is enough tocondemn every soul outside of the pale of Revelation. For, in the day ofjudgment, there will not be a single human creature who can look hisJudge in the eye, and say: "I acted up to every particle of moral lightthat I enjoyed; I never thought a thought, felt a feeling, or did a deed, for which my conscience reproached me. " It follows from this, that the language of the apostle, in the text, maybe applied to every man. The argument that has force for the Jew hasforce for the Gentile. "Thou that teachest another, teachest thou notthyself? thou that preachest that a man should not steal, dost thousteal?" You who know the character and claims of God, and are able tostate them to another, why do you not revere and obey them in your ownperson? You who approve of the law of God as pure and perfect, why do younot conform your own heart and conduct to it? You who perceive theexcellence of piety in another, you who praise and admire moralexcellence in your fellow-man, why do you not seek after it, and toilafter it in your own heart? In paying this tribute of approbation to thecharacter of a God whom you do not yourself love and serve, and to apiety in your neighbor which you do not yourself possess and cultivate, are you not writing down your own condemnation? How can you stand beforethe judgment-seat of God, after having in this manner confessed throughyour whole life upon earth that God is good, and His law is perfect, andyet through that whole life have gone counter to your own confession, neither loving that God, nor obeying that law? "To him that knoweth to dogood and doeth it not, to him it is sin. " (James iv. 17. ) The text then, together with the chains of reasoning that are connectedwith it, leads us to consider the fact, that a man may admire and praisemoral excellence without possessing or practising it himself; that _theapprobation of goodness is not the same as the love of it_. [1] I. This is proved, in the first place, from the _testimony_ of both Godand man. The assertions and reasonings of the apostle Paul have alreadybeen alluded to, and there are many other passages of Scripture whichplainly imply that men may admire and approve of a virtue which they donot practise. Indeed, the language of our Lord respecting the Scribes andPharisees, may be applied to disobedient mankind at large: "Whatsoeverthey bid you observe, that observe and do; but do ye not after theirworks: for they say, and do not. " (Matt, xxiii. 3. ) The testimony of manis equally explicit. That is a very remarkable witness which the poetOvid bears to this truth. "I see the right, "--he says, --"and approve ofit, but I follow and practise the wrong. " This is the testimony of aprofligate man of pleasure, in whom the light of nature had been greatlydimmed in the darkness of sin and lust. But he had not succeeded inannihilating his conscience, and hence, in a sober hour, he left uponrecord his own damnation. He expressly informed the whole cultivatedclassical world, who were to read his polished numbers, that he that hadtaught others had not taught himself; that he who had said that a manshould not commit adultery had himself committed adultery; that aneducated Roman who never saw the volume of inspiration, and never heardof either Moses or Christ, nevertheless approved of and praised a virtuethat he never put in practice. And whoever will turn to the pages ofHorace, a kindred spirit to Ovid both in respect to a most exquisitetaste and a most refined earthliness, will frequently find the sameconfession breaking out. Nay, open the volumes of Rousseau, and even ofVoltaire, and read their panegyrics of virtue, their eulogies ofgoodness. What are these, but testimonies that they, too, saw the rightand did the wrong. It is true, that the eulogy is merely sentimentalism, and is very different from the sincere and noble tribute which a good manrenders to goodness. Still, it is valid testimony to the truth that themere approbation of goodness is not the love of it. It is true, thatthese panegyrics of virtue, when read in the light of Rousseau'ssensuality and Voltaire's malignity, wear a dead and livid hue, likeobjects seen in the illumination from phosphorus or rotten wood; yet, nevertheless, they are visible and readable, and testify as distinctly asif they issued from elevated and noble natures, that the teachings ofman's conscience are not obeyed by man's heart, --that a man may praiseand admire virtue, while he loves and practises vice. II. A second proof that the approbation of goodness is not the love of itis found in the fact, that _it is impossible not to approve of goodness_, while it is possible not to love it. The structure of man's conscience issuch, that he can commend only the right; but the nature of his will issuch, that he may be conformed to the right or the wrong. The consciencecan give only one judgment; but the heart and will are capable of twokinds of affection, and two courses of action. Every rational creature isshut up, by his moral sense, to but one moral conviction. He must approvethe right and condemn the wrong. He cannot approve the wrong and condemnthe right; any more than he can perceive that two and two make five. Thehuman conscience is a rigid and stationary faculty. Its voice may bestifled or drowned, for a time; but it can never be made to titter twodiscordant voices. It is for this reason, that the approbation ofgoodness is necessary and universal. Wicked men and wicked angels musttestify that benevolence is right, and malevolence is wrong; though theyhate the former, and love the latter. But it is not so with the human _will_. This is not a rigid andstationary faculty. It is capable of turning this way, and that way. Itwas created holy, and it turned from holiness to sin, in Adam'sapostasy. And now, under the operation of the Divine Spirit, it turnsback again, it _converts_ from sin to holiness. The will of man is thuscapable of two courses of action, while his conscience is capable of onlyone judgment; and hence he can see and approve the right, yet love andpractise the wrong. If a man's conscience changed along with his heartand his will, so that when he began to love and practise sin, he at thesame time began to approve of sin, the case would be different. If, whenAdam apostatised from God, his conscience at that moment began to takesides with his sin, instead of condemning it, then, indeed, neither Ovid, nor Horace, nor Rousseau, nor any other one of Adam's posterity, wouldhave been able to say: "I see the right and _approve_ of it, while Ifollow the wrong. " But it was not so. After apostasy, the conscience ofAdam passed the same judgment upon sin that it did before. Adam heard itsterrible voice speaking in concert with the voice of God, and hidhimself. He never succeeded in bringing his conscience over to the sideof his heart and will, and neither has any one of his posterity. It isimpossible to do this. Satan himself, after millenniums of sin, stillfinds that his conscience, that the accusing and condemning law writtenon the heart, is too strong for him to alter, too rigid for him to bend. The utmost that either he, or any creature, can do, is to drown itsverdict for a time in other sounds, only to hear the thunder-tones again, waxing longer and louder like the trumpet of Sinai. Having thus briefly shown that the approbation of goodness is not thelove of it, we proceed to draw some conclusions from the truth. 1. In the first place, it follows from this subject, that _the mereworkings of conscience are no proof of holiness_. When, after thecommission of a wrong act, the soul of a man is filled withself-reproach, he must not take it for granted that this is the stirring ofa better nature within him, and is indicative of some remains of originalrighteousness. This reaction of conscience against his disobedienceof law is as necessary, and unavoidable, as the action of his eyelidsunder the blaze of noon, and is worthy neither of praise nor blame, sofar as he is concerned. It does not imply any love for holiness, or anyhatred of sin. Nay, it may exist without any sorrow for sin, as in theinstance of the hardened transgressor who writhes under its awful power, but never sheds a penitential tear, or sends up a sigh for mercy. Thedistinction between the human conscience, and the human heart, is as wideas between the human intellect, and the human heart. [2] We never think ofconfounding the functions and operations of the understanding withthose of the heart. We know that an idea or a conception, is totallydifferent from an emotion, or a feeling. How often do we remark, that aman may have an intellectual perception, without any correspondentexperience or feeling in his heart. How continually does the preacherurge his hearers to bring their hearts into harmony with theirunderstandings, so that their intellectual orthodoxy may become theirpractical piety. Now, all this is true of the distinction between the conscience and theheart. The conscience is an _intellectual_ faculty, and by that betterelder philosophy which comprehended all the powers of the soul under thetwo general divisions of understanding and will, would be placed in thedomain of the understanding. Conscience is a _light_, as we so often callit. It is not a _life_; it is not a source of life. No man's heart andwill can be renewed or changed by his conscience. Conscience is simply alaw. Conscience is merely legislative; it is never executive. It simplysays to the heart and will: "Do thus, feel thus, " but it gives noassistance, and imparts no inclination to obey its own command. Those, therefore, commit a grave error both in philosophy and religion, who confound the conscience with the heart, and suppose that becausethere is in every man self-reproach and remorse after the commission ofsin, therefore there is the germ of holiness within him. Holiness is_love_, the positive affection of the heart. It is a matter of the heartand the will. But this remorse is purely an affair of the conscience, andthe heart has no connection with it. Nay, it appears in its most intenseform, in those beings whose feelings emotions and determinations are inutmost opposition to God and goodness. The purest remorse in the universeis to be found in those wretched beings whose emotional and activepowers, whose heart and will, are in the most bitter hostility to truthand righteousness. How, then, can the mere reproaches and remorse ofconscience be regarded as evidence of piety? 2. But, we may go a step further than this, though in the same generaldirection, and remark, in the second place, that _elevated moralsentiments are no certain proof of piety toward God and man_. These, too, like remorse of conscience, spring out of the intellectual structure, andmay exist without any affectionate love of God in the heart. There is aspecies of nobleness and beauty in moral excellence that makes aninvoluntary and unavoidable impression. When the Christian martyr sealshis devotion to God and truth with his blood; when a meek and lowlydisciple of Christ clothes his life of poverty, and self-denial, with adaily beauty greater than that of the lilies or of Solomon's array; whenthe poor widow with feeble and trembling steps comes up to the treasuryof the Lord, and casts in all her living; when any pure and spiritual actis performed out of solemn and holy love of God and man, it is impossiblenot to be filled with sentiments of admiration, and oftentimes, with anenthusiastic glow of soul. We see this in the impression which thecharacter of Christ universally makes. There are multitudes of men, towhom that wonderful sinless life shines aloft like a star. But they donot _imitate_ it. They admire it, but they do not love it. [3] Thespiritual purity and perfection of the Son of God rays out a beauty whichreally attracts their cultivated minds, and their refined taste; but whenHe says to them: "Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meekand lowly of heart; take up thy cross daily and follow me;" they turnaway sorrowful, like the rich young man in the Gospel, --sorrowful, because their sentiments like his are elevated, and they have a certainawe of eternal things, and know that religion is the highest concern; andsorrowful, because their hearts and wills are still earthly, there is nodivine love in their souls, self is still their centre, and theself-renunciation that is required of them is repulsive. Religion issubmission, --absolute submission to God, --and no amount of mereadmiration of religion can be a substitute for it. As a thoughtful observer looks abroad over society, he sees a veryinteresting class who are not far from the kingdom of God; who, nevertheless, are not _within_ that kingdom, and who, therefore, if theyremain where they are, are as certainly lost as if they were at aninfinite distance from the kingdom. The homely proverb applies to them:"A miss is as good as a mile. " They are those who suppose that elevatedmoral sentiments, an aesthetic pleasure in noble acts or noble truths, aglow and enthusiasm of the soul at the sight or the recital of examplesof Christian virtue and Christian grace, a disgust at the gross andrepulsive forms and aspects of sin, --that such merely intellectual andaesthetic experiences as these are piety itself. All these may be in thesoul, without any godly sorrow over sin, any cordial trust in Christ'sblood, any self-abasement before God, any daily conflict with indwellingcorruption, any daily cross-bearing and toil for Christ's dear sake. These latter, constitute the essence of the Christian experience, andwithout them that whole range of elevated sentiments and amiablequalities, to which we have alluded, only ministers to the condemnationinstead of the salvation of the soul. For, the question of the text comeshome with solemn force, to all such persons. "Thou that makest thy boastof the law, through breaking of the law, dishonorest thou God?" If thebeauty of virtue, and the grandeur of truth, and the sublimity ofinvisible things, have been able to make such an impression upon yourintellects, and your tastes, --upon that part of your constitution whichis fixed and stationary, which responds organically to such objects, andwhich is not the seat of moral character, --then why is there not acorresponding influence and impression made by them upon your heart? Ifyou can admire and praise them, in this style, why do you not _love_them? Why is it, that when the character of Christ bows your intellect, it does not bend your will, and sway your affections? Must there not bean inveterate opposition and resistance in the _heart_? in the heartwhich can refuse submission to such high claims, when so distinctly seen?in the heart which can refuse to take the yoke, and learn of a Teacherwho has already made such an impression upon the conscience and theunderstanding? The human heart is, as the prophet affirms, _desperately_ wicked, _desperately_ selfish. And perhaps its self-love is never more plainlyseen, than in such instances as those of that moral and cultivated youngman mentioned in the Gospel, and that class in modern society whocorrespond to him. Nowhere is the difference between the approbation ofgoodness, and the love of it, more apparent. In these instances theapprobation is of a high order. It is refined and sublimated by cultureand taste. It is not stained by the temptations of low life, and grosssin. If there ever could be a case, in which the intellectual approbationof goodness would develop and pass over into the affectionate and heartylove of it, we should expect to find it here. But it is not found. Theyoung man goes away, --sorrowful indeed, --but he goes away from theRedeemer of the world, _never to return_. The amiable, the educated, therefined, pass on from year to year, and, so far as the evangelic sorrow, and the evangelic faith are concerned, like the dying Beaufort depart tojudgment making no sign. We hear their praises of Christian men, andChristian graces, and Christian actions; we enjoy the grand and swellingsentiments with which, perhaps, they enrich the common literature of theworld; but we never hear them cry: "God be merciful to me a sinner; OLamb of God, that takest away the sin of the world, grant me thy peace;Thou, O God, art the strength of my heart, and my portion forever. " 3. In the third place, it follows from this subject, that in order toholiness in man there must be a change in his _heart and will_. If ouranalysis is correct, no possible modification of either his conscience, or his intellect, would produce holiness. Holiness is an affection of theheart, and an inclination of the will. It is the love and practice ofgoodness, and not the mere approbation and admiration of it. Now, supposethat the conscience should be stimulated to the utmost, and remorseshould be produced until it filled the soul to overflowing, would therebe in this any of that gentle and blessed affection for God and goodness, that heartfelt love of them, which is the essence of religion? Or, suppose that the intellect merely were impressed by the truth, and veryclear perceptions of the Christian system and of the character and claimsof its Author were imparted, would the result be any different? If the_heart_ and _will_ were unaffected; if the influences and impressionswere limited merely to the conscience and the understanding; would notthe seat of the difficulty still be untouched? The command is not: "Giveme thy conscience, " but, "Give me thy _heart_. " Hence, that regeneration of which our Lord speaks in his discourse withNicodemus is not a radical change of the conscience, but of the _will_and _affections_. We have already seen that the conscience cannot undergoa radical change. It can never be made to approve what it once condemned, and to condemn what it once approved. It is the stationary legislativefaculty, and is, of necessity, always upon the side of law and of God. Hence, the apostle Paul sought to commend the truth which he preached, toevery man's conscience, knowing that every man's conscience was with him. The conscience, therefore, does not need to be converted, that is to say, made opposite to what it is. It is indeed greatly stimulated, andrendered vastly more energetic, by the regeneration of the heart; butthis is not radically to alter it. This is to develop and educate theconscience; and when holiness is implanted in the will and affections, bythe grace of the Spirit, we find that both the conscience andunderstanding are wonderfully unfolded and strengthened. But they undergono revolution or conversion. The judgments of the conscience are the sameafter regeneration, that they were before; only more positive andemphatic. The convictions of the understanding continue, as before, to beupon the side of truth; only they are more clear and powerful. The radical change, therefore, must be wrought in the heart and will. These are capable of revolutions and radical changes. They can apostatisein Adam, and be regenerated in Christ. They are not immovably fixed andsettled, by their constitutional structure, in only one way. They haveonce turned from holiness to sin; and now they must be turned back againfrom sin to holiness. They must become exactly contrary to what they noware. The heart must love what it now hates, and must hate what it nowloves. The will must incline to what it now disinclines, and disinclineto what it now inclines. But this is a radical change, a total change, anentire revolution. If any man be in Christ Jesus, he is a new creature, in his will and affections, in his inclination and disposition. While, therefore, the conscience must continue to give the same old everlastingtestimony as before, and never reverse its judgments in the least, theaffections and will, the pliant, elastic, plastic part of man, the seatof vitality, of emotion, the seat of character, the fountain out of whichproceed the evil thoughts or the good thoughts, --this executive, emotive, responsible part of man, must be reversed, converted, radically changedinto its own contrary. So long, therefore, as this change remains to be effected in anindividual, there is and can be no _holiness_ within him, --none of thatholiness without which no man can see the Lord. There may be within him avery active and reproaching conscience; there may be intellectualorthodoxy and correctness in religious convictions; he may cherishelevated moral sentiments, and many attractive qualities springing out ofa cultivated taste and a jealous self-respect may appear in hischaracter; but unless he _loves_ God and man out of a pure heartfervently, and unless his will is entirely and sweetly submissive to theDivine will, so that he can say: "Father not my will, but thine be done, "he is still a natural man. He is still destitute of the spiritual mind, and to him it must be said, as it was to Nicodemus: "Except a man be bornagain, he cannot see the kingdom of God. " The most important side of hisbeing is still alienated from God. The heart with its affections; thewill with its immense energies, --the entire active and emotive portionsof his nature, --are still earthly, unsubmissive, selfish, and sinful. 4. In the fourth, and last place, we see from this subject _the necessityof the operation of the Holy Spirit, in order to holiness in man_. There is no part of man's complex being which is less under his owncontrol, than his own will, and his own affections. This he discovers, assoon as he attempts to _convert_ them; as soon as he tries to produce aradical change in them. Let a man whose will, from centre tocircumference, is set upon self and the world, attempt to reverse it, andset it with the same strength and energy upon God and heaven, and he willknow that his will is too strong for him, and that he cannot overcomehimself. Let a man whose affections cleave like those of Dives to earthlygood, and find their sole enjoyment in earthly pleasures, attempt tochange them into their own contraries, so that they shall cleave to God, and take a real delight in heavenly things, --let a carnal man try torevolutionize himself into a spiritual man, --and he will discover thatthe affections and feelings of his heart are beyond his control. And thereason of this is plain. The affections and will of a man show what he_loves_, and what he is _inclined_ to. A sinful man cannot, therefore, overcome his sinful love and inclination, because he cannot _make abeginning_. The instant he attempts to love God, he finds his love ofhimself in the way. This new love for a new object, which he proposes tooriginate within himself, is prevented by an old love, which already haspossession. This new inclination to heaven and Divine things is precludedby an old inclination, very strong and very set, to earth and earthlythings. There is therefore no _starting-point, _ in this affair ofself-conversion. He proposes, and he tries, to think a holy thought, butthere is a sinful thought already in the mind. He attempts to start out aChristian grace, --say the grace of humility, --but the feeling of pridealready stands in the way, and, what is more, remains in the way. Hetries to generate that supreme love of God, of which he has heard somuch, but the supreme love of himself is ahead of him, and occupies thewhole ground. In short, he is baffled at every point in this attemptradically to change his own heart and will, because at every point thisheart and will are already committed and determined. Go down as low as hepleases, he finds sin, --_love_ of sin, and _inclination_ to sin. He neverreaches a point where these cease; and therefore never reaches a pointwhere he can begin a new love, and a new inclination. The late Mr. Webster was once engaged in a law case, in which he had to meet, upon theopposing side, the subtle and strong understanding of Jeremiah Mason. Inone of his conferences with his associate counsel, a difficult point tobe managed came to view. After some discussion, without satisfactoryresults, respecting the best method of handling the difficulty, one ofhis associates suggested that the point might after all, escape thenotice of the opposing counsel. To this, Mr. Webster replied: "Not so; godown as deep as you will, you will find Jeremiah Mason below you. "Precisely so in the case of which we are speaking. Go down as low as youplease into your heart and will, you will find your _self_ below you; youwill find sin not only lying at the door, but lying in the way. If youmove in the line of your feelings and affections, you will find earthlyfeelings and affections ever below you. If you move in the line of yourchoice and inclination, you will find a sinful choice and inclinationever below you. In chasing your sin through the avenues of your fallenand corrupt soul, you are chasing your horizon; in trying to get clear ofit by your own isolated and independent strength, you are attempting(to use the illustration of Goethe, who however employed it for a falsepurpose) to jump off your own shadow. This, then, is the reason why the heart and will of a sinful man are soentirely beyond his own control. They are _preoccupied_ and_predetermined_, and therefore he cannot make a beginning in thedirection of holiness. If he attempts to put forth a holy determination, he finds a sinful one already made and making, --and this determination is_his_ determination, unforced, responsible and guilty. If he tries tostart out a holy emotion, he finds a sinful emotion already beating andrankling, --and this emotion is _his_ emotion, unforced, responsible, and guilty. There is no physical necessity resting upon him. Nothing butthis love of sin and inclination to self stands in the way of a supremelove of God and holiness; but _it stands in the way. _ Nothing but thesinful affection of the heart prevents a man from exercising a holyaffection; but _it prevents him effectually_. An evil tree cannot bringforth good fruit; a sinful love and inclination cannot convert itselfinto a holy love and inclination; Satan cannot cast out Satan. There is need therefore of a Divine operation to renew, to radicallychange, the heart and will. If they cannot renew themselves, they must_be_ renewed; and there is no power that can reach them but thatmysterious energy of the Holy Spirit which like the wind bloweth where itlisteth, and we hear the sound thereof, but cannot tell whence it comethor whither it goeth. The condition of the human heart is utterlyhopeless, were it not for the promised influences of the Holy Ghost toregenerate it. There are many reflections suggested by this subject; for it has a widereach, and would carry us over vast theological spaces, should we attemptto exhaust it. We close with the single remark, that it should be man'sfirst and great aim _to obtain the new heart_. Let him seek this first ofall, and all things else will be added unto him. It matters not howactive your conscience may be, how clear and accurate your intellectualconvictions of truth may be, how elevated may be your moral sentimentsand your admiration of virtue, if you are destitute of an _evangelicalexperience_. Of what value will all these be in the day of judgment, if you have never sorrowed for sin, never appropriated the atonement forsin, and never been inwardly sanctified? Our Lord says to every man:"Either make the tree good, and its fruit good; or else make the treecorrupt, and its fruit corrupt. " The _tree itself_ must be made good. The heart and will themselves must be renewed. These are the root andstock into which everything else is grafted; and so long as they remainin their apostate natural condition, the man is sinful and lost, dowhat else he may. It is indeed true, that such a change as this is beyondyour power to accomplish. With man it is impossible; but with Godit is a possibility, and a reality. It has actually been wrought inthousands of wills, as stubborn as yours; in millions of hearts, asworldly and selfish as yours. We commend you, therefore, to the Personand Work of the Holy Spirit. We remind you, that He is able to renovateand sweetly incline the obstinate will, to soften and spiritualize theflinty heart. He saith: "I will put a new spirit within you; and I willtake the stony heart out of your flesh, and will give you an heart offlesh; that ye may walk in my statutes, and keep mine ordinances, and dothem; and ye shall be my people, and I will be your God. " Do not listento these declarations and promises of God supinely; but arise andearnestly _plead_ them. Take words upon your lips, and go before God. Sayunto Him: "I am the clay, be _thou_ the potter. Behold thou desiresttruth in the inward parts, and in the hidden parts _thou_ shalt make meto know wisdom. I will run in the way of thy commandments, when _thou_shalt enlarge my heart. Create within me a clean heart, O God, and renewwithin me a right spirit. " _Seek_ for the new heart. _Ask_ for the newheart. _Knock_ for the new heart. "For, if ye, being evil, know how togive good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenlyFather give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him. " And in giving the HolySpirit, He gives the new heart, with all that is included in it, and allthat issues from it. [Footnote 1: See, upon this whole subject of conscience as distinguishedfrom will, and of amiable instincts as distinguished from holiness, theprofound and discriminating views of EDWARDS: The Nature of Virtue, Chapters v. Vi. Vii. ] [Footnote 2: Compare, on this distinction, the AUTHOR'S' Discourses andEssays, p. 284 sq. ] [Footnote 3: The reader will recall the celebrated panegyric upon Christby Rousseau. ] THE USE OF FEAR IN RELIGION. PROVERBS ix. 10. --"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. " Lukexii. 4, 5. --"And I say unto you, my friends, Be not afraid of them thatkill the body, and after that have no more that they can do. But I willforewarn you whom ye shall fear: Fear him, which after he hath killedhath power to cast into hell; yea, I say unto you, Fear him. " The place which the feeling of fear ought to hold in the religiousexperience of mankind is variously assigned. Theories of religion arecontinually passing from one extreme to another, according as theymagnify or disparage this emotion. Some theological schools aredistinguished for their severity, and others for their sentimentalism. Some doctrinal systems fail to grasp the mercy of God with as much vigorand energy as they do the Divine justice, while others melt downeverything that is scriptural and self-consistent, and flow along vaguelyin an inundation of unprincipled emotions and sensibilities. The same fact meets us in the experience of the individual. We eitherfear too much, or too little. Having obtained glimpses of the Divinecompassion, how prone is the human heart to become indolent andself-indulgent, and to relax something of that earnest effort with whichit had begun to pluck out the offending right eye. Or, having felt thepower of the Divine anger; having obtained clear conceptions of theintense aversion of God towards moral evil; even the child of Godsometimes lives under a cloud, because he does not dare to make a rightuse of this needed and salutary impression, and pass back to thatconfiding trust in the Divine pity which is his privilege and hisbirth-right, as one who has been sprinkled with atoning blood. It is plain, from the texts of Scripture placed at the head of thisdiscourse, that the feeling and principle of fear is a legitimate one. [1]In these words of God himself, we are taught that it is the font andorigin of true wisdom, and are commanded to be inspired by it. The OldTestament enjoins it, and the New Testament repeats and emphasizes theinjunction; so that the total and united testimony of Revelation forbidsa religion that is destitute of fear. The New Dispensation is sometimes set in opposition to the Old, andChrist is represented as teaching a less rigid morality than that ofMoses and the prophets. But the mildness of Christ is not seen, certainly, in the ethical and preceptive part of His religion. The Sermonon the Mount is a more searching code of morals than the tencommandments. It cuts into human depravity with a more keen and terribleedge, than does the law proclaimed amidst thunderings and lightnings. Let us see if it does not. The Mosaic statute simply says to man: "Thoushalt not kill. " But the re-enactment of this statute, by incarnateDeity, is accompanied with an explanation and an emphasis that precludesall misapprehension and narrow construction of the original law, andrenders it a two-edged sword that pierces to the dividing asunder of souland spirit. When the Hebrew legislator says to me: "Thou shalt not kill, "it is possible for me, with my propensity to look upon the outwardappearance, and to regard the external act alone, to deem myself innocentif I have never actually murdered a fellow-being. But when the Lord ofglory tells me that "whosoever is angry with his brother" is in dangerof the judgment, my mouth is stopped, and it is impossible for me tocherish a conviction of personal innocency, in respect to the sixthcommandment. And the same is true of the seventh commandment, and theeighth commandment, and of all the statutes in the decalogue. He whoreads, and ponders, the whole Sermon on the Mount, is painfully consciousthat Christ has put a meaning into the Mosaic law that renders it a farmore effective instrument of mental torture, for the guilty, than it isas it stands in the Old Testament. The lightnings are concentrated. Thebolts are hurled with a yet more sure and deadly aim. The new meaning isa perfectly legitimate and logical deduction, and in this sense there isno difference between the Decalogue and the Sermon, --between the ethicsof the Old and the ethics of the New Testament. But, so much morespiritual is the application, and so much more searching is the reach ofthe statute, in the last of the two forms of its statement, that it looksalmost like a new proclamation of law. Our Lord did not intend, or pretend, to teach a milder ethics, or aneasier virtue, on the Mount of Beatitudes, than that which He had taughtfifteen centuries before on Mt. Sinai. He indeed pronounces a blessing;and so did Moses, His servant, before Him. But in each instance, it is ablessing upon condition of obedience; which, in both instances, involvesa curse upon disobedience. He who is meek shall be blest; but he who isnot shall be condemned. He who is pure in heart, he who is poor inspirit, he who mourns over personal unworthiness, he who hungers andthirsts after a righteousness of which he is destitute, he who ismerciful, he who is the peace-maker, he who endures persecutionpatiently, and he who loves his enemies, --he who is and does all this ina perfect manner, without a single slip or failure, is indeed blessedwith the beatitude of God. But where is the man? What single individualin all the ages, and in all the generations since Adam, is entitled tothe great blessing of these beatitudes, and not deserving of the dreadfulcurse which they involve? In applying such a high, ethereal test to humancharacter, the Founder of Christianity is the severest and sternestpreacher of law that has ever trod upon the planet. And he who stops withthe merely ethical and preceptive part of Christianity, and rejects itsforgiveness through atoning blood, and its regeneration by an indwellingSpirit, --he who does not unite the fifth chapter of Matthew, with thefifth chapter of Romans, --converts the Lamb of God into the Lion of thetribe of Judah. He makes use of everything in the Christian system thatcondemns man to everlasting destruction, but throws away the very and theonly part of it that takes off the burden and the curse. It is not, then, a correct idea of Christ that we have, when we look uponHim as unmixed complacency and unbalanced compassion. In all aspects, He was a complex personage. He was God, and He was man. As God, He couldpronounce a blessing; and He could pronounce a curse, as none but Godcan, or dare. As man, He was perfect; and into His perfection of feelingand of character there entered those elements that fill a good being withpeace, and an evil one with woe. The Son of God exhibits goodness andseverity mingled and blended in perfect and majestic harmony; and thatman lacks sympathy with Jesus Christ who cannot, while feeling the purestand most unselfish indignation towards the sinner's sin, at the same timegive up his own individual life, if need be, for the sinner's soul. Thetwo feelings are not only compatible in the same person, but necessarilybelong to a perfect being. Our Lord breathed out a prayer for Hismurderers so fervent, and so full of pathos, that it will continue tosoften and melt the flinty human heart, to the end of time; and He alsopoured out a denunciation of woes upon the Pharisees (Matt, xxiii. ), every syllable of which is dense enough with the wrath of God, to sinkthe deserving objects of it "plumb down, ten thousand fathoms deep, tobottomless perdition in adamantine chains and penal fire. " Theutterances, "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do: Yeserpents, ye generation of vipers! how can ye escape the damnation ofhell?" both fell from the same pure and gracious lips. It is not surprising, therefore, that our Lord often appeals to theprinciple of fear. He makes use of it in all its various forms, --fromthat servile terror which is produced by the truth when the soul isjust waked up from its drowze in sin, to that filial fear which Solomonaffirms to be the beginning of wisdom. The subject thus brought before our minds, by the inspired Word, has awide application to all ages and conditions of human life, and allvarieties of human character. We desire to direct attention to _the useand value of religious fear, in the opening periods of human life_. Thereare some special reasons why youth and early manhood should comeunder the influence of this powerful feeling. "I write unto you youngmen, "--says St. John, --"because ye are _strong_. " We propose to urge uponthe young, the duty of cultivating the fear of God's displeasure, becausethey are able to endure the emotion; because youth is the springtide andprime of human life, and capable of carrying burdens, and standing upunder influences and impressions, that might crush a feebler period, or amore exhausted stage of the human soul. I. In the first place, the emotion of fear ought to enter into theconsciousness of the young, because _youth is naturally light-hearted_. "Childhood and youth, " saith the Preacher, "are vanity. " The openingperiod in human life is the happiest part of it, if we have respectmerely to the condition and circumstances in which the human being isplaced. He is free from all public cares, and responsibilities. He isencircled within the strong arms of parents, and protectors. Even if hetries, he cannot feel the pressure of those toils and anxieties whichwill come of themselves, when he has passed the line that separates youthfrom manhood. When he hears his elders discourse of the weight, and theweariness, of this working-day world, it is with incredulity andsurprise. The world is bright before his eye, and he wonders that itshould ever wear any other aspect. He cannot understand how thefreshness, and vividness, and pomp of human life, should shift into itssoberer and sterner forms; and he will not, until the "Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing Boy. "[2] Now there is something, in this happy attitude of things, to fill theheart of youth with gayety and abandonment. His pulses beat strong andhigh. The currents of his soul flow like the mountain river. His mood isbuoyant and jubilant, and he flings himself with zest, and a sense ofvitality, into the joy and exhilaration all around him. But such a moodas this, unbalanced and untempered by a loftier one, is hazardous to theeternal interests of the soul. Perpetuate this gay festal abandonmentof the mind; let the human being, through the whole of his earthlycourse, be filled with the sole single consciousness that _this_ is thebeautiful world; and will he, can he, live as a stranger and a pilgrimin it? Perpetuate that vigorous pulse, and that youthful blood which"runs tickling up and down the veins;" drive off, and preclude, all thatcare and responsibility which renders human life so earnest; and will theyoung immortal go through it, with that sacred fear and trembling withwhich he is commanded to work out his salvation? Yet, this buoyancy and light-heartedness are legitimate feelings. Theyspring up, like wild-flowers, from the very nature of man. God intendsthat prismatic hues and auroral lights shall flood our morning sky. Hemust be filled with a sour and rancid misanthropy, who cannot bless theCreator that there is one part of man's sinful and cursed life whichreminds of the time, and the state, when there was no sin and no curse. There is, then, to be no extermination of this legitimate experience. But there is to be its moderation and its regulation. And this we get, by the introduction of the feeling and the principle ofreligious fear. The youth ought to seek an impression from things unseenand eternal. God, and His august attributes; Christ, and His awfulPassion; heaven, with its sacred scenes and joys; hell, with its just woeand wail, --all these should come in, to modify, and temper, the jubilancethat without them becomes the riot of the soul. For this, we apprehend, is the meaning of our Lord, when He says, "I will forewarn you whom yeshall fear: Fear him, which after he hath killed hath power to cast intohell; yea, I say unto you, Fear him. " It is not so much any particularspecies of fear that we are shut up to, by these words, as it is thegeneral habit and feeling. The fear of _hell_ is indeed specified, --andthis proves that such a fear is rational and proper in its ownplace, --but our Lord would not have us stop with this single and isolatedform of the feeling. He recommends a solemn temper. He commandsa being who stands continually upon the brink of eternity and immensity, to be aware of his position. He would have the great shadow of eternitythrown in upon time. He desires that every man should realize, in thosevery moments when the sun shines the brightest and the earth looks thefairest, that there is another world than this, for which man is notnaturally prepared, and for which he must make a preparation. And what Heenjoins upon mankind at large, He specially enjoins upon youth. They needto be sobered more than others. The ordinary cares of this life, which doso much towards moderating our desires and aspirations, have not yetpressed upon the ardent and expectant soul, and therefore it needs, morethan others, to fear and to "stand in awe. " II. Secondly, youth is _elastic, and readily recovers from unduedepression_. The skeptical Lucretius tells us that the divinities are thecreatures of man's fears, and would make us believe that all religion hasits ground in fright. [3] And do we not hear this theory repeated by themodern unbeliever? What means this appeal to a universal, and anunprincipled good-nature in the Supreme Being, and this rejection ofeverything in Christianity that awakens misgivings and forebodings withinthe sinful human soul? Why this opposition to the doctrine of anabsolute, and therefore endless punishment, unless it be that it awakensa deep and permanent dread in the heart of guilty man? Now, we are not of that number who believe that thoughtless and lethargicman has been greatly damaged by his moral fears. It is the lack of abold and distinct impression from the solemn objects of another world, and the utter absence of fear, that is ruining man from generation togeneration. If we were at liberty, and had the power, to induce into thethousands and millions of our race who are running the rounds of sin andvice, some one particular emotion that should be medicinal and salutaryto the soul, we would select that very one which our Lord had in viewwhen He said: "I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear: Fear him, whichafter he hath killed hath power to cast into hell; yea, I say unto you, Fear him. " If we were at liberty, and had the power, we wouldinstantaneously stop these human souls that are crowding our avenues, intent only upon pleasure and earth, and would fill them with theemotions of the day of doom; we would deluge them with the fear of God, that they might flee from their sins and the wrath to come. But while we say this, we also concede that it is possible for the humansoul to be injured, by the undue exercise of this emotion. The bruisedreed may be broken, and the smoking flax may be quenched; and hence it isthe very function and office-work of the Blessed Comforter, to preventthis. God's own children sometimes pass through a horror of greatdarkness, like that which enveloped Abraham; and the unregenerate mind issometimes so overborne by its fears of death, judgment, and eternity, that the entire experience becomes for a time morbid and confused. Yet, even in this instance, the excess is better than the lack. We had bettertravel this road to heaven, than none at all. It is better to enter intothe kingdom of God with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast intohell-fire. When the saints from the heavenly heights look back upon theirsevere religious experience here on earth, --upon their footprints stainedwith their own blood, --they count it a small matter that they enteredinto eternal joy through much tribulation. And if we could but for oneinstant take their position, we should form their estimate; we should notshrink, if God so pleased, from passing through that martyrdom andcrucifixion which has been undergone by so many of those gentle spirits, broken spirits, holy spirits, upon whom the burden of mystery once laylike night, and the far heavier burden of guilt lay like hell. There is less danger, however, that the feeling and principle of fearshould exert an excessive influence upon youth. There is an elasticity, in the earlier periods of human life, that prevents long-continueddepression. How rare it is to see a young person smitten with insanity. It is not until the pressure of anxiety has been long continued, and the impulsive spring of the soul has been destroyed, that reason isdethroned. The morning of our life may, therefore, be subjected to asubduing and repressing influence, with very great safety. It is well tobear the yoke in youth. The awe produced by a vivid impression from theeternal world may enter into the exuberant and gladsome experience of theyoung, with very little danger of actually extinguishing it, andrendering life permanently gloomy and unhappy. III. Thirdly, youth is _exposed to sudden temptations, and surprisalsinto sin_. The general traits that have been mentioned as belonging tothe early period in human life render it peculiarly liable tosolicitations. The whole being of a healthful hilarious youth, who feelslife in every limb, thrills to temptation, like the lyre to the plectrum. Body and soul are alive to all the enticements of the world of sense; andin certain critical moments, the entire sensorium, upon the approach ofbold and powerful excitements, flutters and trembles like an electrometerin a thunder-storm. All passionate poetry breathes of youth and spring. Most of the catastrophes of the novel and the drama turn upon the violentaction of some temptation, upon the highly excitable nature of youth. Allliterature testifies to the hazards that attend the morning of ourexistence; and daily experience and observation, certainly, corroboratethe testimony. It becomes necessary, therefore, to guard the human soulagainst these liabilities which attend it in its forming period. And, next to a deep and all-absorbing _love_ of God, there is nothing so welladapted to protect against sudden surprisals, as a profound and definitefear of God. It is a great mistake, to suppose that apostate and corrupt beings likeourselves can pass through all the temptations of this life unscathed, while looking _solely_ at the pleasant aspects of the Divine Being, andthe winning forms of religious truth. We are not yet seraphs; and wecannot always trust to our affectionateness, to carry us through aviolent attack of temptation. There are moments in the experience of theChristian himself, when he is compelled to call in the _fear_ of God tohis aid, and to steady his infirm and wavering virtue by the recollectionthat "the wages of sin is death. " "By the fear of the Lord, men, "--andChristian men too, --"depart from evil. " It will not always be so. Whenthat which is perfect is come, perfect love shall cast out fear; but, until the disciple of Christ reaches heaven, his religious experiencemust be a somewhat complex one. A reasonable and well-definedapprehensiveness must mix with his affectionateness, and deter him fromtransgression, in those severe passages in his history when love islanguid and fails to draw him. Says an old English divine: "The fear ofGod's judgments, or of the threatenings of God, is of much efficiency, when some present temptation presseth upon us. When conscience and theaffections are divided; when conscience doth withdraw a man from sin, and when his carnal affections draw him forth to it; then should the fearof God come in. It is a holy design for a Christian, to counterbalancethe pleasures of sin with the terrors of it, and thus to cure the poisonof the viper by the flesh of the viper. Thus that admirable saint andmartyr, Bishop Hooper, when he came to die, one endeavored to dehort himfrom death by this: O sir, consider that life is sweet and death isbitter; presently he replied, Life to come is more sweet, and death tocome is more bitter, and so went to the stake and patiently endured thefire. Thus, as a Christian may sometimes outweigh the pleasures of sin bythe consideration of the reward of God, so, sometimes, he may quench thepleasures of sin by the consideration of the terrors of God. "[4] But much more is all this true, in the instance of the hot-blooded youth. How shall he resist temptation, unless he has some _fear_ of God beforehis eyes? There are moments in the experience of the young, when allpower of resistance seems to be taken away, by the very witchery andblandishment of the object. He has no heart, and no nerve, to resist thebeautiful siren. And it is precisely in these emergencies in hisexperience, --in these moments when this world comes up before him clothedin pomp and gold, and the other world is so entirely lost sight of, thatit throws in upon him none of its solemn shadows and warnings, --it isprecisely now, when he is just upon the point of yielding to the mightyyet fascinating pressure, that he needs to feel an impression, bold andstartling, from the _wrath_ of God. Nothing but the most active remedieswill have any effect, in this tumult and uproar of the soul. When thewhole system is at fever-heat, and the voice of reason and conscience isdrowned in the clamors of sense and earth, nothing can startle and stopbut the trumpet of Sinai. [5] It is in these severe experiences, which are more common to youth thanthey are to manhood, that we see the great value of the feeling andprinciple of fear. It is, comparatively, in vain for a youth under theinfluence of strong temptations, --and particularly when the surprise issprung upon him, --to ply himself with arguments drawn from the beauty ofvirtue, and the excellence of piety. They are too ethereal for him, inhis present mood. Such arguments are for a calmer moment, and a moredispassionate hour. His blood is now boiling, and those higher motiveswhich would influence the saint, and would have some influence with him, if he were not in this critical condition, have little power to deter himfrom sin. Let him therefore pass by the love of God, and betake himselfto the _anger_ of God, for safety. Let him say to himself, in this momentwhen the forces of Satan, in alliance with the propensities of his ownnature, are making an onset, --when all other considerations are beingswept away in the rush and whirlwind of his passions, --let him coollybethink himself and say: "If I do this abominable thing which the soul ofGod hates, then God, the Holy and Immaculate, will burn my spotted soulin His pure eternal flame. " For, there is great power, in what theScriptures term "the terror of the Lord, " to destroy the edge oftemptation. "A wise man feareth and departeth from evil. " Fear kills outthe delight in sin. Damocles cannot eat the banquet with any pleasure, solong as the naked sword hangs by a single hair over his head. No one canfind much enjoyment in transgression, if his conscience is feeling theaction of God's holiness within it. And well would it be, if, in everyinstance in which a youth is tempted to fling himself into the current ofsin that is flowing all around him, his moral sense might at that verymoment be filled with some of that terror, and some of that horror, whichbreaks upon the damned in eternity. Well would it be, if the youth in themoment of violent temptation could lay upon the emotion or the lust thatentices him, a distinct and red coal of hell-fire. [6] No injury wouldresult from the most terrible fear of God, provided it could always fallupon the human soul in those moments of strong temptation, and ofsurprisals, when all other motives fail to influence, and the human willis carried headlong by the human passions. There may be a fear and aterror that does harm, but man need be under no concern lest heexperience too much of this feeling, in his hours of weakness andirresolution, in his youthful days of temptation and of dalliance. Lethim rather bless God that there is such an intense light, and such a purefire, in the Divine Essence, and seek to have his whole vitiated andpoisoned nature penetrated and purified by it. Have you never looked witha steadfast gaze into a grate of burning anthracite, and noticed thequiet intense glow of the heat, and how silently the fire throbs andpulsates through the fuel, burning up everything that is inflammable, and, making the whole mass as pure, and clean, and clear, as the elementof fire itself? Such is the effect of a contact of God's wrath with man'ssin; of the penetration of man's corruption by the wrath of the Lord. IV. In the fourth place, the feeling and principle of fear ought to enterinto the experience of both youth and manhood, _because it relieves fromall other fear_. He who stands in awe of God can look down, from a verygreat height, upon all other perturbation. When we have seen Him fromwhose sight the heavens and the earth flee away, there is nothing, ineither the heavens or the earth, that can produce a single ripple uponthe surface of our souls. This is true, even of the unregenerate mind. The fear in this instance is a servile one, --it is not filial andaffectionate, --and yet it serves to protect the subject of it from allother feelings of this species, because it is greater than all others, and like Aaron's serpent swallows up the rest. If we must be liable tofears, --and the transgressor always must be, --it is best that they shouldall be concentrated in one single overmastering sentiment. Unity is everdesirable; and even if the human soul were to be visited by none but theservile forms of fear, it would be better that this should be the "terrorof the Lord. " If, by having the fear of God before our eyes, we couldthereby be delivered from the fear of man, and all those apprehensionswhich are connected with time and sense, would it not be wisdom to chooseit? We should then know that there was but one quarter from which ourpeace could be assailed. This would lead us to look in that direction;and, here upon earth, sinful man cannot look at God long, without comingto terms and becoming reconciled with Him. V. The fifth and last reason which we assign for cherishing the feelingand principle of fear applies to youth, to manhood, and to old age, alike: _The fear of God conducts to the love of God_. Our Lord does notcommand us to fear "Him, who after he hath killed hath power to cast intohell, " because such a feeling as this is intrinsically desirable, and isan ultimate end in itself. It is, in itself, undesirable, and it is onlya means to an end. By it, our torpid souls are to be awakened from theirtorpor; our numbness and hardness of mind, in respect to spiritualobjects, is to be removed. We are never for a moment, to suppose that thefear of perdition is set before us as a model and permanent form ofexperience to be toiled after, --a positive virtue and grace intended tobe perpetuated through the whole future history of the soul. It isemployed only as an antecedent to a higher and a happier emotion; andwhen the purpose for which it has been elicited has been answered, itthen disappears. "Perfect love casteth out fear; for fear hath torment, "(1 John iv. 18. [7]) But, at the same time, we desire to direct attention to the fact that hewho has been exercised with this emotion, thoroughly and deeply, isconducted by it into the higher and happier form of religious experience. Religious fear and anxiety are the prelude to religious peace and joy. These are the discords that prepare for the concords. He, who in thePsalmist's phrase has known the power of the Divine anger, is visitedwith the manifestation of the Divine love. The method in thethirty-second psalm is the method of salvation. Day and night God's handis heavy upon the soul; the fear and sense of the Divine displeasure ispassing through the conscience, like electric currents. The moisture, the sweet dew of health and happiness, is turned into the drought ofsummer, by this preparatory process. Then the soul acknowledges its sin, and its iniquity it hides no longer. It confesses its transgressions untothe Lord, --it justifies and approves of this wrath which it hasfelt, --and He forgives the iniquity of its sin. It is not a vain thing, therefore, to fear the Lord. The emotion of whichwe have been discoursing, painful though it be, is remunerative. There issomething in the very experience of moral pain which brings us nigh toGod. When, for instance, in the hour of temptation, I discern God's calmand holy eye bent upon me, and I wither beneath it, and resist theenticement because I fear to disobey, I am brought by this chapter in myexperience into very close contact with my Maker. There has been a vividand personal transaction between us. I have heard him say: "If thou doestthat wicked thing thou shalt surely die; refrain from doing it, and Iwill love thee and bless thee. " This is the secret of the great and swiftreaction which often takes place, in the sinner's soul. He moodily andobstinately fights against the Divine displeasure. In this state ofthings, there is nothing but fear and torment. Suddenly he gives way, acknowledges that it is a good and a just anger, no longer seeks to beatit back from his guilty soul, but lets the billows roll over while hecasts himself upon the Divine pity. In this act and instant, --whichinvolves the destiny of the soul, and has millenniums in it, --when herecognizes the justice and trusts in the mercy of God, there is a greatrebound, and through his tears he sees the depth, the amazing depth, ofthe Divine compassion. For, paradoxical as it appears, God's love is bestseen in the light of God's displeasure. When the soul is penetrated bythis latter feeling, and is thoroughly sensible of its ownworthlessness, --when, man knows himself to be vile, and filthy, and fitonly to be burned up by the Divine immaculateness, --then, to have theGreat God take him to His heart, and pour out upon him the infinitewealth of His mercy and compassion, is overwhelming. Here, the Divineindignation becomes a foil to set off the Divine love. Read the sixteenthchapter of Ezekiel, with an eye "purged with euphrasy and rue, " so thatyou can take in the full spiritual significance of the comparisons andmetaphors, and your whole soul will dissolve in tears, as you perceivehow the great and pure God, in every instance in which He saves anapostate spirit, is compelled to bow His heavens and come down into aloathsome sty of sensuality. [8] Would it be love of the highest order, ina seraph, to leave the pure cerulean and trail his white garments throughthe haunts of vice, to save the wretched inmates from themselves andtheir sins? O then what must be the degree of affection and compassion, when the infinite Deity, whose essence is light itself, and whose natureis the intensest contrary of all sin, tabernacles in the flesh upon theerrand of redemption! And if the pure spirit of that seraph, while filledwith an ineffable loathing, and the hottest moral indignation, at what hesaw in character and conduct, were also yearning with an unspeakabledesire after the deliverance of the vicious from their vice, --the moralwrath, thus setting in still stronger relief the moral compassion thatholds it in check, ---what must be the relation between these two emotionsin the Divine Being! Is not the one the measure of the other? And doesnot the soul that fears God in a _submissive_ manner, and acknowledgesthe righteousness of the Divine displeasure with entire acquiescence andno sullen resistance, prepare the way, in this very act, for an equallyintense manifestation of the Divine mercy and forgiveness? The subject treated of in this discourse is one of the most important, and frequent, that is presented in the Scriptures. He who examines isstartled to find that the phrase, "fear of the Lord, " is woven into thewhole web of Revelation from Genesis to the Apocalypse. The feeling andprinciple under discussion has a Biblical authority, and significance, that cannot be pondered too long, or too closely. It, therefore, has aninterest for every human being, whatever may be his character, hiscondition, or his circumstances. All great religious awakenings beginin the dawning of the august and terrible aspects of the Deity upon thepopular mind, and they reach their height and happy consummation, in that love and faith for which the antecedent fear has been thepreparation. Well and blessed would it be for this irreverent andunfearing age, in which the advance in mechanical arts and vice isgreater than that in letters and virtue, if the popular mind could bemade reflective and solemn by this great emotion. We would, therefore, pass by all other feelings, and endeavor to fix theeye upon the distinct and unambiguous fear of God, and would urge theyoung, especially, to seek for it as for hid treasures. The feeling is apainful one, because it is a _preparatory_ one. There are other forms ofreligious emotion which are more attractive, and are necessary in theirplace; these you may be inclined to cultivate, at the expense of the oneenjoined by our Lord in the text. But we solemnly and earnestly entreatyou, not to suffer your inclination to divert your attention from yourduty and your true interest. We tell you, with confidence, that next tothe affectionate and filial love of God in your heart, there is nofeeling or principle in the whole series that will be of such real solidservice to you, as that one enjoined by our Lord upon "His disciplesfirst of all. " You will need its awing and repressing influence, in manya trying scene, in many a severe temptation. Be encouraged to cherish it, from the fact that it is a very effective, a very powerful emotion. Hewho has the fear of God before his eyes is actually and often kept fromfalling. It will prevail with your weak will, and your infirm purpose, when other motives fail. And if you could but stand where those do, whohave passed through that fearful and dangerous passage through which youare now making a transit; if you could but know, as they do, of whatuntold value is everything that deters from the wrong and nerves to theright, in the critical moments of human life; you would know, as they do, the utmost importance of cherishing a solemn and serious dread ofdispleasing God. The more simple and unmixed this feeling is in your ownexperience, the more influential will it be. Fix it deeply in the mind, that the great God is holy. Recur to this fact continually. If the dreadwhich it awakens casts a shadow over the gayety of youth, remember thatyou need this, and will not be injured by it. The doctrine commendsitself to you, because you are young, and because you are strong. If itfills you with misgivings, at times, and threatens to destroy your peaceof mind, let the emotion operate. Never stifle it, as you value yoursalvation. You had better be unhappy for a season, than yield totemptation and grievous snares which will drown you in perdition. Even ifit hangs dark and low over the horizon of your life, and for a timeinvests this world with sadness, be resolute with yourself, and do notattempt to remove the feeling, except in the legitimate way of thegospel. Remember that every human soul out of Christ ought to fear, "forhe that believeth not on the Son, the wrath of God abideth on him. " Andremember, also, that every one who believes in Christ ought not to fear;for "there is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus, and hethat believeth on the Son hath everlasting life. " And with this thought would we close. This fear of God may and should endin the perfect love that casteth out fear. This powerful and terribleemotion, which we have been considering, may and ought to prepare thesoul to welcome the sweet and thrilling accents of Christ saying, "Comeunto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, " with your fears of death, judgment, and eternity, "and I will give you rest. " Faith in Christ liftsthe soul above all fears, and eventually raises it to that serene world, that blessed state of being, where there is no more curse and no moreforeboding. "Serene will be our days, and bright, And happy will our nature be, When love is an unerring light, And joy its own security. " [Footnote 1: The moral and healthful influence of fear is implied in thecelebrated passage in Aristotle's Poetics, whatever be theinterpretation. He speaks of a _cleansing [Greek: (katharsin)]_ of themind, by means of the emotions of pity and terror [Greek: (phobos)]awakened by tragic poetry. Most certainly, there is no portion ofClassical literature so purifying as the Greek Drama. And yet, thepleasurable emotions are rarely awakened by it. Righteousness and justicedetermine the movement of the plot, and conduct to the catastrophe; andthe persons and forms that move across the stage are, not Venus and theGraces but, "ghostly Shapes To meet at noontide; Death the Skeleton And Time the Shadow. " All literature that tends upward contains the tragic element; and allliterature that tends downward rejects it. Ćschylus and Dante assume aworld of retribution, and employ for the purposes of poetry the fear itawakens. Lucretius and Voltaire would disprove the existence of such asolemn world, and they make no use of such an emotion. ] [Footnote 2: WORDSWORTH: Intimations of Immortality. ] [Footnote 3: LUCRETIUS: De Rerum Natura, III. 989 sq. ; V. 1160 sq. ] [Footnote 4: BATES: Discourse of the Fear of God. ] [Footnote 5: "Praise be to Thee, glory to Thee, O Fountain of mercies: Iwas becoming more miserable and Thou becoming nearer, Thy right hand wascontinually ready to pluck me out of the mire, and to wash me thoroughly, and I knew it not; nor did anything call me back from a yet deeper gulfof carnal pleasures, but _the fear of death, and of Thy judgment tocome_; which, amid all my changes, never departed from my breast. "AUGUSTINE: Confessions, vi. 16. , (Shedd's Ed. , p. 142. )] [Footnote 6: "Si te luxuria tentat, objice tibi memoriam mortis tuae, propone tibi futuruin judicium, reduc ad memoriam futura tormenta, propone tibi acterna supplicia; et etiaim propone aute oculos tuosperpetuosignes infernorum; propone tibi horribiles poenas gehennae. Memoria ardoris gehennae extinguat in te ardorem luxuriane. " BERNARD: De Modo Bene Vivendi. Sermo lxvii. ] [Footnote 7: BAXTER (Narrative, Part I. ) remarks "that fear, being aneasier and irresistible passion, doth oft obscure that measure of lovewhich is indeed within us; and that the soul of a believer groweth up bydegrees from the more troublesome and safe operation of fear, to the morehigh and excellent operations of complacential love. "] [Footnote 8: "Thus saith the Lord God unto Jerusalem, thy birth and thynativity is of the land of Canaan; thy father was an Amorite, and thymother an Hittite. Thou wast cast out in the open field, to the loathingof thy person, in the day that thou wast born. And when I passed by theeand saw thee polluted in thy own blood, I said unto thee when, thou wastin thy blood, Live; yea I said unto thee when thou wast in thy blood, Live. " Ezekiel xvi. 1, 5, 6. ] THE PRESENT LIFE AS RELATED TO THE FUTURE. LUKE xvi. 25. --"And Abraham said, Son remember that thou in thy lifetimereceivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now heis comforted, and thou art tormented. " The parable of Dives and Lazarus is one of the most solemn passages inthe whole Revelation of God. In it, our Lord gives very definitestatements concerning the condition of those who have departed this life. It makes no practical difference, whether we assume that this was a realoccurrence, or only an imaginary one, --whether there actually was such aparticular rich man as Dives, and such a particular beggar as Lazarus, orwhether the narrative was invented by Christ for the purpose of conveyingthe instruction which he desired to give. The instruction is given ineither case; and it is the instruction with which we are concerned. Beit a parable, or be it a historical fact, our Lord here teaches, in amanner not to be disputed, that a man who seeks enjoyment in this life ashis chief end shall suffer torments in the next life, and that he whoendures suffering in this life for righteousness' sake shall dwell inparadise in the next, --that he who finds his life here shall lose hislife hereafter, and that he who loses his life here shall find it hereafter. For, we cannot for a moment suppose that such a Being as Jesus Christmerely intended to play upon the fears of men, in putting forth such apicture as this. He knew that this narrative would be read by thousandsand millions of mankind; that they would take it from His lips asabsolute truth; that they would inevitably infer from it, that the soulsof men do verily live after death, that some of them are in bliss andsome of them are in pain, and that the difference between them is due tothe difference in the lives which they lead here upon earth. Now, ifChrist was ignorant upon these subjects, He had no right to make suchrepresentations and to give such impressions, even through a merelyimaginary narrative. And still less could He be justified in so doing, if, being perfectly informed upon the subject, He knew that there is nosuch place as that in which He puts the luxurious Dives, and no suchimpassable gulf as that of which He speaks. It will not do, here, toemploy the Jesuitical maxim that the end justifies the means, and say, assome teachers have said, that the wholesome impression that will be madeupon the vicious and the profligate justifies an appeal to their fears, by preaching the doctrine of endless retribution, although there is nosuch thing. This was a fatal error in the teachings of Clement ofAlexandria, and Origen. "God threatens, "--said they, --"and punishes, butonly to improve, never for purposes of retribution; and though, in publicdiscourse, the fruitlessness of repentance after death be asserted, yethereafter not only those who have not heard of Christ will receiveforgiveness, but the severer punishment which befalls the obstinateunbelievers will, it may be hoped, not be the conclusion of theirhistory. "[1] But can we suppose that such a sincere, such a truthful andsuch a holy Being as the Son of God would stoop to any such artifice asthis? that He who called Himself The Truth would employ a lie, eitherdirectly or indirectly, even to promote the spiritual welfare of men? Henever spake for mere sensation. The fact, then, that in this solemnpassage of Scripture we find the Redeemer calmly describing and minutelypicturing the condition of two persons in the future world, distinctlyspecifying the points of difference between them, putting words intotheir mouths that indicate a sad and hopeless experience in one of them, and a glad and happy one in the other of them, --the fact that in thistreatment of the awful theme our Lord, beyond all controversy, _conveysthe impression_ that these scenes and experiences are real and true, --isone of the strongest of all proofs that they are so. The reader of Dante's Inferno is always struck with the sincerity andrealism of that poem. Under the delineation of that luminous, and thatintense understanding, hell has a topographic reality. We wind along downthose nine circles as down a volcanic crater, black, jagged, precipitous, and impinging upon the senses at every step. The sighs and shrieks jarour own tympanum; and the convulsions of the lost excite tremors in ourown nerves. No wonder that the children in the streets of Florence, asthey saw the sad and earnest man pass along, his face lined with passionand his brow scarred with thought, pointed at him and said: "There goesthe man who has been in hell. " But how infinitely more solemn is theimpression that is made by these thirteen short verses, of the sixteenthchapter of Luke's gospel, from the lips of such a Being as Jesus Christ!We have here the terse and pregnant teachings of one who, in the phraseof the early Creed, not only "descended into hell, " but who "hath thekeys of death and hell. " We have here not the utterances of the mosttruthful, and the most earnest of all human poets, --a man who, we maybelieve, felt deeply the power of the Hebrew Bible, though living in adark age, and a superstitious Church, --we have here the utterances of theSon of God, very God, of very God, and we may be certain that He intendedto convey no impression that will not be made good in the world to come. And when every eye shall see Him, and all the sinful kindreds of theearth shall wail because of Him, there will not be any eye that can lookinto His and say: "Thy description, O Son of God, was overdrawn; theimpression was greater than the reality. " On the contrary, every humansoul will say in the day of judgment: "We were forewarned; the statementswere exact; even according to Thy fear, so is Thy wrath" (Ps. Xc. 11). But what is the lesson which we are to read by this clear and solemnlight? What would our merciful Redeemer have us learn from this passagewhich He has caused to be recorded for our instruction? Let us listenwith a candid and a feeling heart, because it comes to us not from anenemy of the human soul, not from a Being who delights to cast it intohell, but from a friend of the soul; because it comes to us from One who, in His own person and in His own flesh, suffered an anguish superiorin dignity and equal in cancelling power to the pains of all the hells, in order that we, through repentance and faith, might be spared theirinfliction. The lesson is this: _The man who seeks enjoyment in this life, as hischief end, must suffer in the next life; and he who endures suffering inthis life, for righteousness' sake, shall be happy in the next. _ "Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, andlikewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted, and thou arttormented. " It is a fixed principle in the Divine administration, that the scales ofjustice shall in the end be made equal. If, therefore, sin enjoys in thisworld, it must sorrow in the next; and if righteousness sorrows in thisworld, it must enjoy in the next. The experience shall be reversed, inorder to bring everything to a right position and adjustment. This iseverywhere taught in the Bible. "Woe unto you that are rich! for ye havereceived your consolation. Woe unto you that are full! for ye shallhunger. Woe unto you that laugh now! for ye shall mourn and weep. Blessedare ye that hunger now; for ye shall be filled. Blessed are ye that weepnow; for ye shall laugh" (Luke vi. 21, 24, 25). These are the explicitdeclarations of the Founder of Christianity, and they ought not tosurprise us, coming as they do from Him who expressly declares that Hiskingdom is not of this world; that in this world His disciples must havetribulation, as He had; that through much tribulation they must enterinto the kingdom of God; that whosoever doth not take up the cross daily, and follow Him, cannot be His disciple. Let us notice some particulars, in which we see the operation of thisprinciple. What are the "good things" which Dives receives here, forwhich he must be "tormented" hereafter? and what are the "evil things"which Lazarus receives in this world, for which he will be "comforted" inthe world to come? I. In the first place, the worldly man _derives a more intense physicalenjoyment_ from this world's goods, than does the child of God. Hepossesses more of them, and gives himself up to them with lessself-restraint. The majority of those who have been most prospered byDivine Providence in the accumulation of wealth have been outside of thekingdom and the ark of God. Not many rich and not many noble are called. In the past history of mankind, the great possessions and the greatincomes, as a general rule, have not been in the hands of humble andpenitent men. In the great centres of trade and commerce, --in Venice, Amsterdam, Paris, London, --it is the world and not the people of God whohave had the purse, and have borne what is put therein. Satan is describedin Scripture, as the "prince of this world" (John xiv. 30); and his wordsaddressed to the Son of God are true: "All this power and glory isdelivered unto me, and to whomsoever I will, I give it. " In the parablefrom which we are discoursing, the sinful man was the rich man, and thechild of God was the beggar. And how often do we see, in every-daylife, a faithful, prayerful, upright, and pure-minded man, toiling inpoverty, and so far as earthly comforts are concerned enjoying little ornothing, while a selfish, pleasure-seeking, and profligate man isimmersed in physical comforts and luxuries. The former is receiving evilthings, and the latter is receiving good things, in this life. Again, how often it happens that a fine physical constitution, health, strength, and vigor, are given to the worldling, and are denied to thechild of God. The possession of worldly good is greatly enhanced invalue, by a fine capability of enjoying it. When therefore we see wealthjoined, with health, and luxury in all the surroundings and appointmentscombined with taste to appreciate them and a full flow of blood to enjoythem, or access to wide and influential circles, in politics and fashion, given to one who is well fitted by personal qualities to move inthem, --when we see a happy adaptation existing between the man and hisgood fortune, as we call it, --we see not only the "good things, " but the"good things" in their gayest and most attractive forms and colors. Andhow often is all this observed in the instance of the natural man; andhow often is there little or none of this in the instance of thespiritual man. We by no means imply, that it is impossible for thepossessor of this world's goods to love mercy, to do justly, and to walkhumbly; and we are well aware that under the garb of poverty and toilthere may beat a murmuring and rebellious heart. But we think that fromgeneration to generation, in this imperfect and probationary world, itwill be found to be a fact, that when _merely_ earthly and physical goodis allotted in large amounts by the providence of God; that when greatincomes and ample means of luxury are given; in the majority of instancesthey are given to the enemies of God, and not to His dear children. Sothe Psalmist seems to have thought. "I was envious, "--he says, --"when Isaw the prosperity of the wicked. For there are no bands in their death;but their strength is firm. They are not in trouble as other men; neitherare they plagued like other men. Therefore pride compasseth them about asa chain; violence covereth them as a garment. Their eyes stand out withfatness; they have more than heart could wish. Behold these are the_ungodly_ who prosper in the world; they increase in riches. Verily _I_have cleansed my heart in vain, and washed my hands in innocency. For allday long have _I_ been plagued, and chastened every morning" (Ps. Lxxiii). And it should be carefully noticed, that the Psalmist, evenafter further reflection, does not _alter_ his statement respecting therelative positions of the godly and the ungodly in this world. He sees noreason to correct his estimate, upon this point. He lets it stand. So faras this merely _physical_ existence is concerned, the wicked man has theadvantage. It is only when the Psalmist looks _beyond_ this life, that hesees the compensation, and the balancing again of the scales of eternalright and justice. "When I thought to know this, "--when I reflected uponthis inequality, and apparent injustice, in the treatment of the friendsand the enemies of God, --"it was too painful for me, until I went intothe sanctuary of God, "--until I took my stand in the _eternal_ world, andformed my estimate there, --"_then_ understood I their end. Surely thoudidst set them in slippery places: thou castedst them down todestruction. How are they brought into desolation as in a moment! Theyare utterly consumed with terrors. " Dives passes from his fine linen andsumptuous fare, from his excessive physical enjoyment, to everlastingperdition. II. In the second place, the worldly man _derives more enjoyment fromsin, and suffers less from it_, in this life, than does the child of God. The really renewed man cannot _enjoy_ sin. It is true that he does sin, owing to the strength of old habits, and the remainders of hiscorruption. But he does not really delight in it; and he says with St. Paul: "What I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I. " His sinis a sorrow, a constant sorrow, to him. He feels its pressure and burdenall his days, and cries: "O wretched man, who shall deliver me from thebody of this death. " If he falls into it, he cannot live in it; as a manmay fall into water, but it is not his natural element. Again, the good man not only takes no real delight in sin, but hisreflections after transgression are very painful. He has a tenderconscience. His senses have been trained and disciplined to discern goodand evil. Hence, the sins that are committed by a child of God aremourned over with a very deep sorrow. The longer he lives, the moreodious does sin become to him, and the more keen and bitter is hislamentation over it. Now this, in itself, is an "evil thing. " Man was notmade for sorrow, and sorrow is not his natural condition. This wearisomestruggle with indwelling corruption, these reproaches of an impartialconscience, this sense of imperfection and of constant failure in theservice of God, --all this renders the believer's life on earth a seasonof trial, and tribulation. The thought of its lasting forever would bepainful to him; and if he should be told that it is the will of God, thathe should continue to be vexed and foiled through all eternity, with themotions of sin in his members, and that his love and obedience wouldforever be imperfect, though he would be thankful that even this wasgranted him, and that he was not utterly cast off, yet he would wear ashaded brow, at the prospect of an imperfect, though a sincere and astruggling eternity. But the ungodly are not so. The worldly man loves sin; loves pleasure;loves self. And the love is so strong, and accompanied with so muchenjoyment and zest, that it is _lust_, and is so denominated in theBible. And if you would only defend him from the wrath of God; if youwould warrant him immunity in doing as he likes; if you could shelter himas in an inaccessible castle from the retributions of eternity; with whata delirium of pleasure would he plunge into the sin that he loves. Tellthe avaricious man, that his avarice shall never have any evilconsequences here or hereafter; and with what an energy would he applyhimself to the acquisition of wealth. Tell the luxurious man, full ofpassion and full of blood, that his pleasures shall never bring down anyevil upon him, that there is no power in the universe that can hurt him, and with what an abandonment would he surrender himself to his carnalelysium. Tell the ambitious man, fired with visions of fame and glory, that he may banish all fears of a final account, that he may make himselfhis own deity, and breathe in the incense of worshipers, without anyrebuke from Him who says: "I am God, and my glory I will not give toanother, "-assure the proud and ambitious man that his sin will never findhim out, and with what a momentum will he follow out his inclination. For, in each of these instances there is a _hankering_ and a _lust_. Thesin is _loved and revelled in_, for its own deliciousness. The heart isworldly, and therefore finds its pleasure in its forbidden objects andaims. The instant you propose to check or thwart this inclination; theinstant you try to detach this natural heart from its wealth, or itspleasure, or its earthly fame; you discover how closely it clings, andhow strongly it loves, and how intensely it enjoys the forbidden object. Like the greedy insect in our gardens, it has fed until every fibre andtissue is colored with its food; and to remove it from the leaf is totear and lacerate it. Now it is for this reason, that the natural man receives "good things, "or experiences pleasure, in this life, at a point where the spiritual manreceives "evil things, " or experiences pain. The child of God does notrelish and enjoy sin in this style. Sin in the good man is a burden; butin the bad man it is a pleasure. It is all the pleasure he has. And whenyou propose to take it away from him, or when you ask him to give it upof his own accord, he looks at you and asks: "Will you take away the onlysolace I have? I have no joy in God. I take no enjoyment in divinethings. Do you ask me to make myself wholly miserable?" And not only does the natural man enjoy sin, but, in this life, he ismuch less troubled than is the spiritual man with reflections andself-reproaches on account of sin. This is another of the "good things"which Dives receives, for which he must be "tormented;" and this isanother of the "evil things" which Lazarus receives, for which he mustbe "comforted. " It cannot be denied, that in this world the child of Godsuffers more mental sorrow for sin, in a given period of time, than doesthe insensible man of the world. If we could look into the soul of afaithful disciple of Christ, we should discover that not a day passes, inwhich his conscience does not reproach him for sins of thought, word, ordeed; in which he does not struggle with some bosom sin, until he is soweary that he cries out: "Oh that I had wings like a dove, so that Imight fly away, and be at rest. " Some of the most exemplary members ofthe Church go mourning from day to day, because their hearts are still sofar from their God and Saviour, and their lives fall so far short of whatthey desire them to be. [2] Their experience is not a positively wretchedone, like that of an unforgiven sinner when he is feeling the stings ofconscience. They are forgiven. The expiating blood has soothed theulcerated conscience, so that it no longer stings and burns. They havehope in God's mercy. Still, they are in grief and sorrow for sin; andtheir experience, in so far, is not a perfectly happy one, such as willultimately be their portion in a better world. "If in this lifeonly, "--says St. Paul, --"we have hope in Christ, we are of all men mostmiserable" (1 Cor. Xv. 19). But the stupid and impenitent man, a luxurious Dives, knows nothing ofall this. His days glide by with no twinges of conscience. What does heknow of the burden of sin? His conscience is dead asleep; perchanceseared as with a hot iron. He does wrong without any remorse; he disobeysthe express commands of God, without any misgivings or self-reproach. Heis "alive, without the law, "-as St. Paul expresses it. His eyes stand outwith fatness; and his heart, in the Psalmist's phrase, "is as fat asgrease" (Ps. Cxix. 70). There is no religious sensibility in him. His sinis a pleasure to him without any mixture of sorrow, because unattended byany remorse of conscience. He is receiving his "good things" in thislife. His days pass by without any moral anxiety, and perchance as helooks upon some meek and earnest disciple of Christ who is battling withindwelling sin, and who, therefore, sometimes wears a grave countenance, he wonders that any one should walk so soberly, so gloomily, in such acheery, such a happy, such a jolly world as this. It is a startling fact, that those men in this world who have most reasonto be distressed by sin are the least troubled by it; and those who havethe least reason to be distressed are the most troubled by it. The childof God is the one who sorrows most; and the child of Satan is the one whosorrows least. Remember that we are speaking only of _this_ life. Thetext reads: "Thou _in thy lifetime_ receivedst thy good things, andlikewise Lazarus evil things. " And it is unquestionably so. The meek andlowly disciple of Christ, the one who is most entitled by his characterand conduct to be untroubled by religious anxiety, is the very one whobows his head as a bulrush, and perhaps goes mourning all his days, fearing that he is not accepted, and that he shall be a cast-a-way; whilethe selfish and thoroughly irreligious man, who ought to be stung throughand through by his own conscience, and feel the full energy of the lawwhich he is continually breaking, --this man, who of all men ought to beanxious and distressed for sin, goes through a whole lifetime, perchance, without any convictions or any fears. And now we ask, if this state of things ought to last forever? Is itright, is it just, that sin should enjoy in this style forever andforever, and that holiness should grieve and sorrow in this styleforevermore? Would you have the Almighty pay a bounty uponunrighteousness, and place goodness under eternal pains and penalties?Ought not this state of things to be reversed? When Dives comes to theend of this lifetime; when he has run his round of earthly pleasure, faring sumptuously every day, clothed in purple and fine linen, without athought of his duties and obligations, and without any anxiety andpenitence for his sins, --when this worldly man has received all his "goodthings, " and is satiated and hardened by them, ought he not then to be"tormented?" Ought this guilty carnal enjoyment to be perpetuated throughall eternity, under the government of a righteous and just God? And, onthe other hand, ought not the faithful disciple, who, perhaps, haspossessed little or nothing of this world's goods, who has toiled hard, in poverty, in affliction, in temptation, in tribulation, and sometimeslike Abraham in the horror of a great darkness, to keep his robes white, and his soul unspotted from the world, --when the poor and weary Lazaruscomes to the end of this lifetime, ought not his trials and sorrows tocease? ought he not then to be "comforted" in the bosom of Abraham, inthe paradise of God? There is that within us all, which answers, Yea, andAmen. Such a balancing of the scales is assented to, and demanded by themoral convictions. Hence, in the parable, Dives himself is represented asacquiescing in the eternal judgment. He does not complain of injustice. It is true, that at first he asks for a drop of water, --for some slightmitigation of his punishment. This is the instinctive request of anysufferer. But when his attention is directed to the right and the wrongof the case; when Abraham reminds him of the principles of justice bywhich his destiny has been decided; when he tells him that having takenhis choice of pleasure in the world which he has left, he cannot now havepleasure in the world to which he has come; the wretched man makes noreply. There is nothing to be said. He feels that the procedure is just. He is then silent upon the subject of his own tortures, and only begsthat his five brethren, whose lifetime is not yet run out, to whom thereis still a space left for repentance, may be warned from his own lips notto do as he has done, --not to choose pleasure on earth as their chiefgood; not to take their "good things" in this life. Dives, the man inhell, is a witness to the justice of eternal punishment. 1. In view of this subject, as thus discussed, we remark in the firstplace, that no man can have his "good things, " in other words, his chiefpleasure, in _both_ worlds. God and this world are in antagonism. "Forall that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. If anyman love the world, the love of the Father is not in him" (1 John i. 15, 16). It is the height of folly, therefore, to suppose that a man can makeearthly enjoyment his chief end while he is upon earth, and then pass toheaven when he dies. Just so far as he holds on upon the "good things" ofthis life, he relaxes his grasp upon the "good things" of the next. Noman is capacious enough to hold both worlds in his embrace. He cannotserve God and Mammon. Look at this as a _matter of fact_. Do not take itas a theory of the preacher. It is as plain and certain that you cannotlay up your treasure in heaven while you are laying it up upon earth, as it is that your material bodies cannot occupy two portions of space atone and the same time. Dismiss, therefore, all expectations of being ableto accomplish an impossibility. Put not your mind to sleep with theopiate, that in some inexplicable manner you will be able to live thelife of a worldly man upon earth, and then the life of a spiritual man inheaven. There is no alchemy that can amalgamate substances that refuse tomix. No man has ever yet succeeded, no man ever will succeed, in securingboth the pleasures of sin and the pleasures of holiness, --in living thelife of Dives, and then going to the bosom of Abraham. 2. And this leads to the second remark, that every man must _make hischoice_ whether he will have his "good things" now, or hereafter. Everyman is making his choice. Every man has already made it. The heart is nowset either upon God, or upon the world. Search through the globe, andyou cannot find a creature with double affections; a creature with _two_chief ends of living; a creature whose treasure is both upon earth and inheaven. All mankind are single-minded. They either mind earthly things, or heavenly things. They are inspired with one predominant purpose, whichrules them, determines their character, and decides their destiny. Andin all who have not been renewed by Divine grace, the purpose is a wrongone, a false and fatal one. It is the choice and the purpose of Dives, and not the choice and purpose of Lazarus. 3. Hence, we remark in the third place, that it is the duty and thewisdom of every man to let this world go, and seek his "good things"_hereafter_. Our Lord commands every man to sit down, like the steward inthe parable, and make an estimate. He enjoins it upon every man to reckonup the advantages upon each side, and see for himself which is superior. He asks every man what it will profit him, "if he shall gain the wholeworld and lose his own soul; or, what he shall give in exchange for hissoul. " We urge you to make this estimate, --to compare the "good things"which Dives enjoyed, with the "torments" that followed them; and the"evil things" which Lazarus suffered, with the "comfort" that succeededthem. There can be no doubt upon which side the balance will fall. And weurge you to take the "evil things" _now_, and the "good things"_hereafter_. We entreat you to copy the example of Moses at the court ofthe Pharaohs, and in the midst of all regal luxury, who "chose rather tosuffer affliction with the people of God, than enjoy the pleasures of sinfor a season; esteeming the reproach of Christ, greater riches than thetreasures in Egypt: _for he had respect unto the recompense of reward_. "Take the _narrow_ way. What though it be strait and narrow; you are notto walk in it forever. A few short years of fidelity will end thetoilsome pilgrimage; and then you will come put into a "wealthy place. "We might tell you of the _joys_ of the Christian life that are mingledwith its trials and sorrows even here upon earth. For, this race to whichwe invite you, and this fight to which we call you have their ownpeculiar, solemn, substantial joy. And even their sorrow is tinged withglory. In a higher, truer sense than Protesilaus in the poem says it ofthe pagan elysium, we may say even of the Christian race, and theChristian fight, "Calm pleasures there abide--_majestic pains_. "[3] But we do not care, at this point, to influence you by a consideration ofthe amount of enjoyment, in _this_ life, which you will derive from aclose and humble walk with God. We prefer to put the case in its baldestform, --in the aspect in which we find it in our text. We will say nothingat all about the happiness of a Christian life, here in time. We willtalk only of its tribulations. We will only say, as in the parable, thatthere are "evil things" to be endured here upon earth, in return forwhich we shall have "good things" in another life. There is to be amoderate and sober use of this world's goods; there is to be a searchingsense of sin, and an humble confession of it before God; there is tobe a cross-bearing every day, and a struggle with indwelling corruption. These will cost effort, watchfulness, and earnest prayer for Divineassistance. We do not invite you into the kingdom of God, without tellingyou frankly and plainly beforehand what must be done, and what must besuffered. But having told you this, we then tell you with the utmostconfidence and assurance, that you will be infinitely repaid for yourchoice, if you take your "evil things" in this life, and choose your"good things" in a future. We know, and are certain, that this lightaffliction which endures but for a moment, in comparison with theinfinite duration beyond the tomb, will work out a far more exceeding andeternal weight of glory. We entreat you to look no longer at the thingswhich are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things thatare seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal. Learn a parable from a wounded soldier. His limb must be amputated, formortification and gangrene have begun their work. He is told that thesurgical operation, which will last a half hour, will yield him twenty orforty years of healthy and active life. The endurance of an "evil thing, "for a few moments, will result in the possession of a "good thing, " formany long days and years. He holds out the limb, and submits to theknife. He accepts the inevitable conditions under which he finds himself. He is resolute and stern, in order to secure a great good, in the future. It is the practice of this same _principle_, though not in the use of thesame kind of power, that we would urge upon you. _Look up to God forgrace and help_, and deliberately forego a present advantage, for thesake of something infinitely more valuable hereafter. Do not, for thesake of the temporary enjoyment of Dives, lose the eternal happiness ofLazarus. Rather, take the place, and accept the "evil things, " of thebeggar. _Look up to God for grace and strength_ to do it, and then livea life of contrition for sin, and faith in Christ's blood. Deny yourself, and take up the cross daily. Expect your happiness _hereafter_. Lay upyour treasure _above_. Then, in the deciding day, it will be said of you, as it will be of all the true children of God: "These are they which cameout of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made themwhite in the blood of the Lamb. " [Footnote 1: SHEDD: History of Doctrine, II. , 234 sq. ] [Footnote 2: The early religious experience of John Owen furnishes astriking illustration. "For a quarter of a year, he avoided almost allintercourse with men; could scarcely be induced to speak; and when he didsay anything, it was in so disordered a manner as rendered him a wonderto many. Only those who have experienced the bitterness of a woundedspirit can form an idea of the distress he must have suffered. Comparedwith this anguish of soul, all the afflictions which befall a sinner [onearth] are trifles. One drop of that wrath which shall finally fill thecup of the ungodly, poured into the mind, is enough to poison all thecomforts of life, and to spread mourning, lamentation, and woe over thecountenance. Though the violence of Owen's convictions had subsided afterthe first severe conflict, they still continued to disturb his peace, andnearly five years elapsed from their commencement before he obtainedsolid comfort. " ORME: Life of Owen, Chap. I. ] [Footnote 3: WORDSWORTH: Laodamia. ] THE EXERCISE OF MERCY OPTIONAL WITH GOD. ROMANS ix. 15. --"For He saith to Moses, I will have mercy on whom I willhave mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. " This is a part of the description which God himself gave to Moses, of Hisown nature and attributes. The Hebrew legislator had said to Jehovah: "Ibeseech thee show me thy glory. " He desired a clear understanding of thecharacter of that Great Being, under whose guidance he was commissionedto lead the people of Israel into the promised land. God said to him inreply: "I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will proclaimthe name of the Lord before thee; and I will be gracious to whom I willbe gracious, and will shew mercy on whom I will shew mercy. "[1] By this, God revealed to Moses, and through him to all mankind, the factthat He is a merciful being, and directs attention to one particularcharacteristic of mercy. While informing His servant, that Heis gracious and clement towards a penitent transgressor, He at the sametime teaches him that He is under no obligation, or necessity, to shewmercy. Grace is not a debt. "I will have mercy on whom I _will_ havemercy, and I will have compassion on whom I _will_ have compassion. " The apostle Paul quotes this declaration, to shut the mouth of him whowould set up a claim to salvation; who is too proud to beg for it, and accept it as a free and unmerited favor from God. In so doing, heendorses the sentiment. The inspiration of his Epistle corroborates thatof the Pentateuch, so that we have assurance made doubly sure, that thisis the correct enunciation of the nature of mercy. Let us look into thishope-inspiring attribute of God, under the guidance of this text. The great question that presses upon the human mind, from age to age, isthe inquiry: Is God a merciful Being, and will He show mercy? Livingas we do under the light of Revelation, we know little of the doubts andfears that spontaneously rise in the guilty human soul, when it is leftsolely to the light of nature to answer it. With the Bible in our hands, and hearing the good news of Redemption from our earliest years, it seemsto be a matter of course that the Deity should pardon sin. Nay, a certainclass of men in Christendom seem to have come to the opinion that it ismore difficult to prove that God is just, than to prove that He ismerciful. [2] But this is not the thought and feeling of man when outsideof the pale of Revelation. Go into the ancient pagan world, examine thetheologizing of the Greek and Roman mind, and you will discover that thefears of the justice far outnumbered the hopes of the mercy; that Platoand Plutarch and Cicero and Tacitus were far more certain that God wouldpunish sin, than that He would, pardon it. This is the reason that thereis no light, or joy, in any of the pagan religions. Except when religionwas converted into the worship of Beauty, as in the instance of the laterGreek, and all the solemn and truthful ideas of law and justice wereeliminated from it, every one of the natural religions of the globe isfilled with sombre and gloomy hues, and no others. The truest and bestreligions of the ancient world were always the sternest and saddest, because the unaided human mind is certain that God is just, but is notcertain that He is merciful. When man is outside of Revelation, it is byno means a matter of course that God is clement, and that sin shall beforgiven. Great uncertainty overhangs the doctrine of the Divine mercy, from the position of natural religion, and it is only within the provinceof revealed truth that the uncertainty is removed. Apart from a distinctand direct _promise_ from the lips of God Himself that He will forgivesin, no human creature can be sure that sin will ever be forgiven. Letus, therefore, look into the subject carefully, and see the reason whyman, if left to himself and his spontaneous reflections, doubts whetherthere is mercy in the Holy One for a transgressor, and fears that thereis none, and why a special revelation is consequently required, to dispelthe doubt and the fear. The reason lies in the fact, implied in the text, that _the exercise ofjustice is necessary, while that of mercy is optional_. "I will havemercy on whom I _please_ to have mercy, and I will have compassion onwhom I _please_ to have compassion. " It is a principle inlaid in thestructure of the human soul, that the transgression of law _must_ bevisited with retribution. The pagan conscience, as well as the Christian, testifies that "the Soul that sinneth it shall die. " There is no need ofquoting from pagan philosophers to prove this. We should be compelledto cite page after page, should we enter upon the documentary evidence. Take such a tract, for example, as that of Plutarch, upon what hedenominates "the slow vengeance of the Deity;" read the reasons which heassigns for the apparent delay, in this world, of the infliction ofpunishment upon transgressors; and you will perceive that the humanmind, when left to its candid and unbiassed convictions, is certain thatGod is a holy Being and will visit iniquity with penalty. Throughout thisentire treatise, composed by a man who probably never saw the Scripturesof either the New or the Old Dispensation, there runs a solemn and deepconsciousness that the Deity is necessarily obliged, by the principles ofjustice, to mete out a retribution to the violator of law. Plutarch isengaged with the very same question that the apostle Peter takes up, inhis second Epistle, when he answers the objection of the scoffer whoasks: Where is the promise of God's coming in judgment? The apostlereplies to it, by saying that for the Eternal Mind one day is as athousand years, and a thousand years as one day, and that therefore "theLord is not slack concerning His promise, as some men count slackness;"and Plutarch answers it in a different manner, but assumes and affirmswith the same positiveness and certainty that the vengeance will_ultimately come_. No reader of this treatise can doubt for a moment, that its author believed in the future punishment of the wicked, --and inthe future _endless_ punishment of the incorrigibly wicked, because thereis not the slightest hint or expectation of any exercise of mercy on thepart of this Divinity whose vengeance, though slow, is sure andinevitable. [3] Some theorists tell us that the doctrine of endlesspunishment contradicts the instincts of the natural reason, and that ithas no foundation in the constitution of the human soul. We invite themto read and ponder well, the speculations of one of the most thoughtfulof pagans upon this subject, and tell us if they see any streaks or raysof light in it; if they see any inkling, any jot or tittle, of thedoctrine of the Divine pity there. We challenge them to discover in thistract of Plutarch the slightest token, or sign, of the Divine mercy. Theauthor believes in a hell for the wicked, and an elysium for the good;but those who go to hell go there upon principles of _justice_, and thosewho go to elysium go there upon the _same_ principles. It is justice thatmust place men in Tartarus, and it is justice that must place them inElysium. In paganism, men must earn their heaven. The idea of_mercy_, --of clemency towards a transgressor, of pity towards acriminal, --is entirely foreign to the thoughts of Plutarch, so far asthey can be gathered from this tract. It is the clear and terribledoctrine of the pagan sage, that unless a man can make good his claim toeternal happiness upon the ground of law and justice, --unless he meritsit by good works, --there is no hope for him in the other world. The idea of a forgiving and tender mercy in the Supreme Being, exercisedtowards a creature whom justice would send to eternal retribution, nowhere appears in the best pagan ethics. And why should it? Whatevidence or proof has the human mind, apart from the revelations made toit in the Old and New Testaments, that God will ever forgive sin, or evershow mercy? In thinking upon the subject, our reason perceives, intuitively, that God must of necessity punish transgression; and itperceives with equal intuitiveness that there is no correspondingnecessity that He should pardon it. We say with confidence andpositiveness: "God must be just;" but we cannot say with any certaintyor confidence at all: "God must be merciful. " The Divine mercy is anattribute which is perfectly free and optional, in its exercises, andtherefore we cannot tell beforehand whether it will or will not be shownto transgressors. We know nothing at all about it, until we hear someword from the lips of God Himself upon the point. When He opens theheavens, and speaks in a clear tone to the human race, saying, "I willforgive your iniquities, " then, and not till then, do they know the fact. In reference to all those procedures which, like the punishment oftransgression, are fixed and necessary, because they are founded in theeternal principles of law and justice, we can tell beforehand what theDivine method will be. We do not need any special revelation, to informus that God is a just Being, and that His anger is kindled againstwickedness, and that He will punish the transgressor. This class oftruths, the Apostle informs us, are written in the human constitution, and we have already seen that they were known and dreaded in the paganworld. That which God _must_ do, He certainly will do. He _must_ be just, and therefore He certainly will punish sin, is the reasoning of the humanmind, the-world over, and in every age. [4] But, when we pass from the punishment of sin to the pardon of it, when wego over to the merciful side of the Divine Nature, we can come to no_certain_ conclusions, if we are shut up to the workings of our ownminds, or to the teachings of the world of nature about us. Picture toyourself a thoughtful pagan, like Solon the legislator of Athens, livingin the heart of heathenism five centuries before Christ, and knowingnothing of the promise of mercy which broke faintly through the heavensimmediately after the apostasy of the first human pair, and which foundits full and victorious utterance in the streaming, blood of Calvary. Suppose that the accusing and condemning law written, upon his consciencehad shown its work, and made him conscious of sin. Suppose that thequestion had risen within him, whether that Dread Being whom he"ignorantly worshipped, " and against whom he had committed the offence, would forgive it; was there anything in his own soul, was there anythingin the world around him or above him, that could give him an affirmativeanswer? The instant he put the question: Will God _punish_ me for mytransgression? the affirming voices were instantaneous and authoritative. "The soul that sinneth it shall die" was the verdict that came forth fromthe recesses of his moral nature, and was echoed and re-echoed in thesuffering, pain, and physical death of a miserable and groaning worldall around him. But when he put the other question to himself: Will theDeity _pardon_ me for my transgression? there was no affirmative answerfrom any source of knowledge accessible to him. If he sought a reply fromthe depths of his own conscience, all that he could hear was the terribleutterance: "The soul that sinneth it shall die. " The human conscience canno more promise, or certify, the forgiveness of sin, than the tencommandments can do so. When, therefore, this pagan, convicted of sin, seeks a comforting answer to his anxious inquiry respecting the Divineclemency towards a criminal, he is met only with retributive thunders andlightnings; he hears only that accusing and condemning law which iswritten on the heart, and experiences that fearful looking-for ofjudgment and fiery indignation which St. Paul describes, in the firstchapter of Romans, as working in the mind of the universal pagan world. But we need not go to Solon, and the pagan world, for evidence upon thissubject. Why is it that a convicted man under the full light of thegospel, and with the unambiguous and explicit promise of God to forgivesins ringing in his ears, --why is it, that even under these favorablecircumstances a guilt-smitten man finds it so difficult to believe thatthere is mercy for him, and to trust in it? Nay, why is it that he findsit impossible fully to believe that Jehovah is a sin-pardoning God, unless he is enabled so to do by the Holy Ghost? It is because he knowsthat God is under a necessity of punishing his sin, but is under nonecessity of pardoning it. The very same judicial principles areoperating in his mind that operate in that of a pagan Solon, or any othertransgressor outside of the revelation of mercy. That which holds backthe convicted sinner from casting himself upon the Divine pity is theperception that God must be just. This fact is certain, whether anythingelse is certain or not. And it is not until he perceives that God can be_both_ just and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus; it is notuntil he sees that, through the substituted sufferings of Christ, God can_punish_ sin while at the same time He _pardons_ it, --can punish it inthe Substitute while He pardons it in the sinner, --it is not until he isenabled to apprehend the doctrine of _vicarious_ atonement, that hisdoubts and fears respecting the possibility and reality of the Divinemercy are removed. The instant he discovers that the exercise of pardonis rendered entirely consistent with the justice of God, by thesubstituted death of the Son of God, he sees the Divine mercy, and thattoo in the high form of _self-sacrifice, _ and trusts in it, and is atpeace. These considerations are sufficient to show, that according to thenatural and spontaneous operations of the human intellect, justicestands in the way of the exercise of mercy, and that therefore, ifman is not informed by Divine Revelation respecting this latterattribute, he can never acquire the certainty that God will forgive hissin. There are two very important and significant inferences from thistruth, to which we now ask serious attention. 1. In the first place, those who deny the credibility, and Divineauthority, of the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments _shut up thewhole world to doubt and despair_. For, unless God has spoken the word ofmercy in this written Revelation, He has not spoken it anywhere; and wehave seen, that unless He has spoken such a merciful word _somewhere_, nohuman transgressor can be certain of anything but stark unmitigatedjustice and retribution. Do you tell us that God is too good to punishmen, and that therefore it must be that He is merciful? We tell you, inreply, that God is good when He punishes sin, and your own conscience, like that of Plutarch, re-echoes the reply. Sin is a wicked thing, andwhen the Holy One visits it with retribution, He is manifesting thepurest moral excellence and the most immaculate perfection of characterthat we can conceive of. But if by goodness you mean mercy, then we saythat this is the very point in dispute, and you must not beg the pointbut must prove it. And now, if you deny the authority and credibility ofthe Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, we ask you upon what groundyou venture to affirm that God will pardon man's sin. You cannotdemonstrate it upon any _a priori_ and necessary principles. You cannotshow that the Deity is obligated to remit the penalty due totransgression. You can prove the necessity of the exercise of justice, but you cannot prove the necessity of the exercise of mercy. It is purelyoptional with God, whether to pardon or not. If, therefore, you cannotestablish the fact of the Divine clemency by _a priori_ reasoning, --ifyou cannot make out a _necessity_ for the exercise of mercy, --you mustbetake yourself to the only other method of proof that remains to you, the method of testimony. If you have the _declaration_ and _promise_ ofGod, that He will forgive iniquity, transgression, and sin, you may becertain of the fact, --as certain as you would be, could you prove theabsolute necessity of the exercise of mercy. For God's promise cannot bebroken. God's testimony is sure. But, by the supposition, you deny thatthis declaration has been made, and this promise has been uttered, in thewritten Revelation of the Christian Church. Where then do you send me forthe information, and the testimony? Have you a private revelation of yourown? Has the Deity spoken to you in particular, and told you that He willforgive your sin, and my sin, and that of all the generations? Unlessthis declaration has been made either to you or to some other one, wehave seen that you cannot establish the _certainty_ that God will forgivesin. It is a purely optional matter with Him, and whether He will or nodepends entirely upon His decision, determination, and declaration. IfHe says that He will pardon sin, it will certainly be done. But until Hesays it, you and every other man must be remanded to the inexorabledecisions of conscience which thunder out: "The soul that sinneth itshall die. " Whoever, therefore, denies that God in the Scriptures of theOld and New Testaments has broken through the veil that hides eternityfrom time, and has testified to the human race that He will forgive sin, and has solemnly promised to do so, takes away from the human race theonly ground of certainty which they possess, that there is pity in theheavens, and that it will be shown to sinful creatures like themselves. But this is to shut them up again, to the doubt and hopelessness of thepagan world, --a world without Revelation. 2. In the second place, it follows from this subject, that mankind must_take the declaration and promise of God, respecting the exercise ofmercy, precisely as He has given it_. They must follow the record_implicitly_, without any criticisms or alterations. Not only does theexercise of mercy depend entirely upon the will and pleasure of God, but, the mode, the conditions, and the length of time during which the offershall be made, are all dependent upon the same sovereignty. Let us lookat these particulars one by one. In the first place, the _method_ by which the Divine clemency shall bemanifested, and the _conditions_ upon which the offer of forgivenessshall be made, are matters that rest solely with God. If it is entirelyoptional with Him whether to pardon at all, much more does it dependentirely upon Him to determine the way and means. It is here that we stopthe mouth of him who objects to the doctrine of forgiveness through avicarious atonement. We will by no means concede, that the exhibitionof mercy through the vicarious satisfaction of justice is an optionalmatter, and that God might have dispensed with such satisfaction, hadHe so willed. We believe that the forgiveness of sin is possible even tothe Deity, only through a substituted sacrifice that completely satisfiesthe demands of law and justice, --that without the shedding of expiatingblood there is no remission of sin possible or conceivable, under agovernment of law. But, without asking the objector to come up to thishigh ground, we are willing, for the sake of the argument, to go downupon his low one; and we say, that even if the metaphysical necessity ofan atonement could not be maintained, and that it is purely optional withGod whether to employ this method or not, it would still be the duty andwisdom of man to take the record just as it reads, and to accept themethod that has actually been adopted. If the Sovereign has a perfectright to say whether He will or will not pardon the criminal, has He notthe same right to say _how_ He will do it? If the transgressor, uponprinciples of justice, could be sentenced to endless misery, and yet theSovereign Judge concludes to offer him forgiveness and eternal life, shall the criminal, the culprit who could not stand an instant in thejudgment, presume to quarrel with the method, and dictate the terms bywhich his own pardon shall be secured? Even supposing, then, that therewere no _intrinsic_ necessity for the offering of an infinite sacrificeto satisfy infinite justice, the Great God might still take the loftyground of sovereignty, and say to the criminal: "My will shall stand formy reason; I decide to offer you amnesty and eternal joy, in this mode, and upon these terms. The reasons for my method are known to myself. Takemercy in this method, or take justice. Receive the forgiveness of sin inthis mode, or else receive the eternal and just punishment of sin. Can Inot do what I will with mine own? Is thine eye evil because I am good?"God is under no necessity to offer the forgiveness of sin to any criminalupon any terms; still less is He hedged up to a method of forgivenessprescribed by the criminal himself. Again, the same reasoning will apply to the _time during which the offerof mercy shall be extended_. If it is purely optional with God, whetherHe will pardon my sin at all, it is also purely optional with Him to fixthe limits within which He will exercise the act of pardon. Should Hetell me, that if I would confess and forsake my sins to-day, He wouldblot them out forever, but that the gracious offer should be withdrawntomorrow, what conceivable ground of complaint could I discover? He isunder no necessity of extending the pardon at this moment, and neitheris He at the next, or any future one. Mercy is grace, and not debt. Nowit has pleased God, to limit the period during which the work ofRedemption shall go on. There is a point of time, for every sinful man, at which "there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin" (Heb. X. 26). Theperiod of Redemption is confined to earth and time; and unless the sinnerexercises repentance towards God and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, before his spirit returns to God who gave it, there is no redemption forhim through eternal ages. This fact we know by the declaration andtestimony of God; in the same manner that we know that God will exercisemercy at all, and upon any conditions whatever. We have seen that wecannot establish the fact that the Deity will forgive sin, by any _apriori_ reasoning, but know it only because He has spoken a word to thiseffect, and given the world His promise to be gracious and merciful, In like manner, we do not establish the fact that there will be no secondoffer of forgiveness, in the future world, by any process of reasoningfrom the nature of the case, or the necessity of things. We are willingto concede to the objector, that for aught that we can see the HolyGhost is as able to take of the things of Christ, and show them to aguilty soul, in the next world, as He is in this. So far as almightypower is concerned, the Divine Spirit could convince men of sin, andrighteousness, and judgment, and incline them to repentance and faith, ineternity as well as in time. And it is equally true, that the DivineSpirit could have prevented the origin of sin itself, and the fall ofAdam, with the untold woes that proceed therefrom. But it is not aquestion of power. It is a question of _intention_, of _determination_, and of _testimony_ upon the part of God. And He has distinctly declaredin the written Revelation, that it is His intention to limit theconverting and saving influences of His Spirit to time and earth. Hetells the whole world unequivocally, that His spirit shall not alwaysstrive with man, and that the day of judgment which occurs at the end ofthis Dispensation of grace, is not a day of pardon but of doom. Christ'sdescription of the scenes that will close up this RedemptiveEconomy, --the throne, the opened books, the sheep on the right hand andthe goats on the left hand, the words of the Judge: "Come ye blessed, depart ye cursed, "--proves beyond controversy that "_now_ is the acceptedtime, and _now_ is the day of salvation. " The utterance of our RedeemingGod, by His servant David, is: "_To-day_ if ye will hear His voice hardennot your hearts. " St. Paul, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, informs theworld, that as God sware that those Israelites who did not believe andobey His servant Moses, during their wanderings in the desert, should notenter the earthly Canaan, so those, in any age and generation of men, whodo not believe and obey His Son Jesus Christ, during their earthlypilgrimage, shall, by the same Divine oath, be shut out of the eternalrest that remaineth for the people of God (Hebrews iii. 7-19). Unbelieving men, in eternity, will be deprived of the benefits ofChrist's redemption, by the _oath_, the solemn _decision_, the judicial_determination_ of God. For, this exercise of mercy, of which we arespeaking, is not a matter of course, and of necessity, and whichtherefore continues forever and forever. It is optional. God is entirelyat liberty to pardon, or not to pardon. And He is entirely at liberty tosay when, and how, and _how long_ the offer of pardon shall be extended. He had the power to carry the whole body of the people of Israel overJordan, into the promised land, but He sware that those who provedrefractory, and disobedient, during a _certain definite period of time_, should never enter Canaan. And, by His apostle, He informs all thegenerations of men, that the same principle will govern Him in respect tothe entrance into the heavenly Canaan. The limiting of the offer ofsalvation to this life is not founded upon any necessity in the DivineNature, but, like the offer of salvation itself, depends upon thesovereign pleasure and determination of God. That pleasure, and thatdetermination, have been distinctly made known in the Scriptures. We knowas clearly as we know anything revealed in the Bible, that God hasdecided to pardon here in time, and not to pardon in eternity. He hasdrawn a line between the present period, during which He makes salvationpossible to man, and the future period, when He will not make itpossible. And He had a right to draw that line, because mercy from firstto last is the optional, and not the obligated agency of the SupremeBeing. Therefore, _fear_ lest, a promise being left us of entering into Hisrest, any of you should seem to come short of it. For unto you is thegospel preached, as well as unto those Israelites; but the word, did notprofit them, not being mixed with faith in them that heard it. Neitherwill it profit you, unless it is mixed with faith. God limiteth a certainday, saying in David, "_To-day_, after so long a time, "--after these manyyears of hearing and neglecting the offer of forgiveness, --"_to-day_, ifye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts. " Labor, therefore, _now_, to enter into that rest, lest any man fall, after the same example ofunbelief, with those Israelites whom the oath of God shut out of both theearthly and the heavenly Canaan. [Footnote 1: Compare, also, the very full announcement of mercy as aDivine attribute that was to be exercised, in Exodus xxxiv. 6, 7. This is the more noteworthy, as it occurs in connection with the givingof the law. ] [Footnote 2: Their creed lives in the satire of YOUNG (Universal Passion. Satire VI. ), --as full of sense, truth, and pungency now, as it was onehundred years ago. "From atheists far, they steadfastly believe God is, and is Almighty--to _forgive_. His other excellence they'll not dispute; But mercy, sure, is His chief attribute. Shall pleasures of a short duration chain A lady's soul in everlasting pain? Will the great Author us poor worms destroy, For now and then a sip of transient joy? No, He's forever in a smiling mood; He's like themselves; or how could He be good? And they blaspheme, who blacker schemes suppose. Devoutly, thus, Jehovah they depose, The Pure! the Just! and set up in His stead, A deity that's perfectly well-bred. "] [Footnote 3: Plutarch supposes a form of punishment in the future worldthat is disciplinary. If it accomplishes its purpose, the soul goes intoElysium, --a doctrine like that of purgatory in the Papal scheme. But incase the person proves incorrigible, his suffering is _endless_. Herepresents an individual as having been restored to life, and giving anaccount of what he had seen. Among other things, he "informed his friend, how that Adrastia, the daughter of Jupiter and Necessity, was seated inthe highest place of all, to punish all manner of crimes and enormities, and that in the whole number of the wicked and ungodly there never wasany one, whether great or little, high or low, rich or poor, that couldever by force or cunning escape the severe lashes of her rigor. Butas there are three sorts of punishment, so there are three severalFuries, or female ministers of justice, and to every one of thesebelongs a peculiar office and degree of punishment. The first ofthese was called [Greek: Poinae] or _Pain_; whose executions are swiftand speedy upon those that are presently to receive bodily punishmentin this life, and which she manages after a more gentle manner, omittingthe correction of slight offences, which need but little expiation. Butif the cure of impiety require a greater labor, the Deity delivers those, after death, to [Greek: Dikae] or _Vengeance_. But when Vengeance hasgiven them over as altogether _incurable_, then the third and most severeof all Adrastia's ministers, [Greek: 'Erinys] or _Fury_, takes them inhand, and after she has chased and coursed them from one place toanother, flying yet not knowing where to fly for shelter and relief, plagued and tormented with a thousand miseries, she plunges them headlonginto an invisible abyss, the hideousness of which no tongue can express. "PLUTARCH: Morals, Vol. IV. P. 210. Ed. 1694. PLATO (Gorgias 525. C. D. Ed. Bip. IV. 169) represents Socrates as teaching that those who "havecommitted the most extreme wickedness, and have become incurable throughsuch crimes, are made an example to others, and suffer _forever_ ([Greek:paschontas ton aei chronon]) the greatest, most agonizing, and mostdreadful punishment. " And Socrates adds that "Homer (Odyssey xi. 575)also bears witness to this; for he represents kings and potentates, Tantalus, Sysiphus, and Tityus, as being tormented _forever_ in Hades"([Greek: en adon ton aei chronon timoronmenos]). -In the Aztec or Mexicantheology, "the wicked, comprehending the greater part of mankind, were toexpiate their sin in a place of everlasting darkness. " PRESCOTT: Conquestof Mexico, Vol. I. P. 62. ] [Footnote 4: It may be objected, at this point, that mercy also is anecessary attribute in God, like justice itself, --that it necessarilybelongs to the nature of a perfect Being, and therefore might be inferred_a priori_ by the pagan, like other attributes. This is true; but theobjection overlooks the distinction between the _existence_ of anattribute and its _exercise_. Omnipotence necessarily belongs to the ideaof the Supreme Being, but it does not follow that it must necessarily be_exerted_ in act. Because God is able to create the universe of matterand mind, it does not follow that he _must_ create it. The doctrine ofthe necessity of creation, though held in a few instances by theists whoseem not to have discerned its logical consequences, is virtuallypantheistic. Had God been pleased to dwell forever in theself-sufficiency of His Trinity, and never called the Finite intoexistence from nothing, He might have done so, and He would still havebeen omnipotent and "blessed forever. " In like manner, the attribute ofmercy might exist in God, and yet not be exerted. Had He been pleased totreat the human race as He did the fallen angels, He was perfectly atliberty to do so, and the number and quality of his immanent attributeswould have been the same that they are now. But justice is an attributewhich not only exists of necessity, but must be _exercised_ of necessity;because not to exercise it would be injustice. -For a fuller exposition ofthe nature of justice, see SHEDD: Discourses and Essays, pp. 291-300. ] CHRISTIANITY REQUIRES THE TEMPER OF CHILDHOOD. MARK x. 15. --"Verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive thekingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein. " These words of our Lord are very positive and emphatic, and will, therefore, receive a serious attention from every one who is anxiousconcerning his future destiny beyond the grave. For, they mention anindispensable requisite in order to an entrance into eternal life. "Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he_shall not_ enter therein. " The occasion of their utterance is interesting, and brings to view abeautiful feature in the perfect character of Jesus Christ. The Redeemerwas deeply interested in every age and condition of man. All classesshared in His benevolent affection, and all may equally partake of therich blessings that flow from it. But childhood and youth seem to havehad a special attraction for Him. The Evangelist is careful to inform us, that He took little children in His arms, and that beholding an amiableyoung man He loved him, --a gush of feeling went out towards him. It wasbecause Christ was a perfect man, as well as the infinite God, that sucha feeling dwelt in His breast. For, there has never been an uncommonlyfair and excellent human character, in which tenderness and affinity forchildhood has not been a quality, and a quality, too, that was no smallpart of the fairness and excellence. The best definition that has yetbeen given of genius itself is, that it is the carrying of the feelingsof childhood onward into the thoughts and aspirations of manhood. He whois not attracted by the ingenuousness, and trustfulness, and simplicity, of the first period of human life, is certainly wanting in the finest andmost delicate elements of nature, and character. Those who have beencoarse and brutish, those who have been selfish and ambitious, those whohave been the pests and scourges of the world, have had no sympathy withyouth. Though once young themselves, they have been those in whom thegentle and generous emotions of the morning of life have died out. Thatman may become hardhearted, skeptical and sensual, a hater of his kind, a hater of all that is holy and good, he must divest himself entirely ofthe fresh and ingenuous feeling of early boyhood, and receive in itsplace that malign and soured feeling which is the growth, and sign, of aselfish and disingenuous life. It is related of Voltaire, --a man in whomevil dwelt in its purest and most defecated essence, --that he had nosympathy with the child, and that the children uniformly shrank from thatsinister eye in which the eagle and the reptile were so strangelyblended. Our Saviour, as a perfect man, then, possessed this trait, and it oftenshowed itself in His intercourse with men. As an omniscient Being, Heindeed looked with profound interest, upon the dawning life of the humanspirit as it manifests itself in childhood. For He knew as no finitebeing can, the marvellous powers that sleep in the soul of the youngchild; the great affections which are to be the foundation of eternalbliss, or eternal pain, that exist in embryo within; the mysteriousideas that lie in germ far down in its lowest depths, --He knew, as nofinite creature is able, what is in the child, as well as in the man, andtherefore was interested in its being and its well-being. But besidesthis, by virtue of His perfect humanity, He was attracted by thosepeculiar traits which are seen in the earlier years of human life. Heloved the artlessness and gentleness, the sense of dependence, theimplicit trust, the absence of ostentation and ambition, the unconsciousmodesty, in one word, the _child-likeness_ of the child. Knowing this characteristic of the Redeemer, certain parents broughttheir young children to Him, as the Evangelist informs us, "that Heshould touch them;" either believing that there was a healthful virtue, connected with the touch of Him who healed the sick and gave life to thedead, that would be of benefit to them; or, it may be, with more elevatedconceptions of Christ's person, and more spiritual desires respecting thewelfare of their offspring, believing that the blessing (which wassymbolized by the touch and laying on of hands) of so exalted a Beingwould be of greater worth than mere health of body. The disciples, thinking that mere children were not worthy of the regards of theirMaster, rebuked the anxious and affectionate parents. "But, "--continuesthe narrative, --"when Jesus saw it he was much displeased, and said untothem, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God;" and then immediately explained whatHe meant by this last assertion, which is so often misunderstood andmisapplied, by adding, in the words of the text, "Verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not _receive the kingdom of God as a little child"_ thatis with a child-like spirit, "he shall not enter therein. " For our Lorddoes not here lay down a doctrinal position, and affirm the moralinnocence of childhood. He does not mark off and discriminate thechildren as sinless, from their parents as sinful, as if the two classesdid not belong to the same race of beings, and were not involved in thesame apostasy and condemnation. He merely sets childhood and manhoodover-against each other as two distinct stages of human life, eachpossessing peculiar traits and tempers, and affirms that it is the meekspirit of childhood, and not the proud spirit of manhood, that welcomesand appropriates the Christian salvation. He is only contrasting thegeneral attitude of a child, with the general attitude of a man. Hemerely affirms that the _trustful_ and _believing_ temper of childhood, as compared with the _self-reliant_ and _skeptical_ temper of manhood, isthe temper by which both the child and the man are to receive theblessings of the gospel which both of them equally need. The kingdom of God is represented in the New Testament, sometimes assubjective, and sometimes as objective; sometimes as within the soul ofman, and sometimes as up in the skies. Our text combines bothrepresentations; for, it speaks of a man's "receiving" the kingdom ofGod, and of a man's "entering" the kingdom of God; of the coming ofheaven into a soul, and of the going of a soul into heaven. In otherpassages, one or the other representation appears alone. "The kingdom ofGod, "--says our Lord to the Pharisees, --"cometh not with observation. Neither shall they say, Lo here, or lo there: for behold the kingdom ofGod is within you. " The apostle Paul, upon arriving at Rome, invited theresident Jews to discuss the subject of Christianity with him. "And whenthey had appointed him a day, there came many to him into his lodging, towhom he expounded and testified the kingdom of God, "--to whom heexplained the nature of the Christian religion, --"persuading themconcerning Jesus, both out of the law of Moses, and out of the prophets, from, morning till evening. " The same apostle teaches the Romans, that"the kingdom of God is not meat and drink; but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost;" and tells the Corinthians, that "the kingdomof God is not in word, but in power. " In all these instances, thesubjective signification prevails, and the kingdom of God is simply asystem of truth, or a state of the heart. And all are familiar with thesentiment, that heaven is a state, as well as a place. All understandthat one half of heaven is in the human heart itself; and, that if thishalf be wanting, the other half is useless, --as the half of a thinggenerally is. Isaac Walton remarks of the devout Sibbs: "Of this blest man, let this just praise be given, Heaven was in him, before he was in heaven. " It is only because that in the eternal world the imperfect righteousnessof the renewed man is perfected, and the peace of the anxious soulbecomes total, and the joy that is so rare and faint in the Christianexperience here upon earth becomes the very element of life andaction, --it is only because eternity _completes_ the excellence of theChristian (but does not begin it), that heaven, as a place of perfectholiness and happiness, is said to be in the future life, and we arecommanded to seek a better country even a heavenly. But, because this isso, let no one lose sight of the other side of the great truth, andforget that man must "receive" the kingdom as well as "enter" it. Withoutthe right state of heart, without the mental correspondent to heaven, that beautiful and happy region on high will, like any and every otherplace, be a hell, instead of a paradise. [1] A distinguished writerrepresents one of his characters as leaving the Old World, and seekinghappiness in the New, supposing that change of place and outwardcircumstances could cure a restless mind. He found no rest by the change;and in view of his disappointment says: "I will return, and in myancestral home, amid my paternal fields, among my own people, I will say, _Here, or nowhere_, is America. "[2] In like manner, must the Christianseek happiness in present peace and joy in the Holy Ghost, and must herein this life strive after the righteousness that brings tranquillity. Though he may look forward with aspiration to the new heavens and the newearth wherein dwelleth a _perfected_ righteousness, yet he must rememberthat his holiness and happiness there is merely an expansion of hisholiness and happiness here. He must seek to "receive" the kingdom ofGod, as well as to "enter" it; and when tempted to relax his efforts, andto let down his watch, because the future life will not oppose so manyobstacles to spirituality as this, and will bring a more perfectenjoyment with it, he should say to himself: "Be holy now, be happy here. _Here, or nowhere_, is heaven. " Such being the nature of the kingdom of God, we are now brought up to thediscussion of the subject of the text, and are prepared to consider: _Inwhat respects, the kingdom of God requires the temper of a child asdistinguished from the temper of a man, in order to receive it, and inorder to enter it_. The kingdom of God, considered as a kingdom that is within the soul, istantamount to religion. To receive this kingdom, then, is equivalent toreceiving religion into the heart, so that the character shall be formedby it, and the future destiny be decided by it. What, then, is thereligion that is to be received? We answer that it is the religion thatis needed. But, the religion that is needed by a sinful man is verydifferent from the religion that is adapted to a holy angel. He who hasnever sinned is already in direct and blessed relations with God, andneeds only to drink in the overflowing and everflowing stream of purityand pleasure. Such a spirit requires a religion of only two doctrines:First, that there is a God; and, secondly, that He ought to be lovedsupremely and obeyed perfectly. This is the entire theology of theangels, and it is enough for them. They know nothing of sin in theirpersonal experience, and consequently they require in their religion, none of those doctrines, and none of those provisions, which are adaptedto the needs of sinners. But, man is in an altogether different condition from this. He too knowsthat there is a God, and that He ought to be loved supremely, and obeyedperfectly. Thus far, he goes along with the angel, and with every otherrational being made under the law and government of God. But, at thispoint, his path diverges from that of the pure and obedient inhabitant ofheaven, and leads in an opposite direction. For he does not, like theangels, act up to his knowledge. He is not conformed to these twodoctrines. He does not love God supremely, and he does not obey Himperfectly. This fact puts him into a very different position, inreference to these two doctrines, from that occupied by the obedient andunfallen spirit. These two doctrines, in relation to him as one who hascontravened them, have become a power of condemnation; and whenever hethinks of them he feels guilty. It is no longer sufficient to tell him. That religion consists in loving God, and enjoying His presence, --consistsin holiness and happiness. "This is very true, "--he says, --"butI am neither holy nor happy. " It is no longer enough to remind him thatall is well with any creature who loves God with all his heart, and keepsHis commandments without a single slip or failure. "This is verytrue, "--he says again, --"but I do not love in this style, neither have Iobeyed in this manner. " It is too late to preach mere natural religion, the religion of the angels, to one who has failed to stand fully andfirmly upon the principles of natural religion. It is too late to tell acreature who has lost his virtue, that if he is only virtuous he is safeenough. The religion, then, that a sinner needs, cannot be limited to the twodoctrines of the holiness of God, and the creature's obligation to loveand serve Him, --cannot be pared down to the precept: Fear God andpractise virtue. It must be greatly enlarged, and augmented, by theintroduction of that other class of truths which relate to the Divinemercy towards those who have not feared God, and the Divine method ofsalvation for those who are sinful. In other words, the religion for atransgressor is _revealed_ religion, or the religion of Atonement andRedemption. What, now, is there in _this_ species of religion that necessitates themeek and docile temper of a child, as distinguished from the proud andself-reliant spirit of a man, in order to its reception into the heart? I. In the first place, _the New Testament religion offers the forgivenessof sins, and provides for it_. No one can ponder this fact an instant, without perceiving that the pride and self-reliance of manhood areexcluded, and that the meekness and implicit trust of childhood aredemanded. Pardon and justification before God must, from the nature ofthe case, be a gift, and a gift cannot be obtained unless it is accepted_as such_. To demand or claim mercy, is self-contradictory. For, a claimimplies a personal ground for it; and this implies self-reliance, andthis is "manhood" in distinction from "childhood. " In coming, therefore, as the religion of the Cross does, before man with a gratuity, with anoffer to pardon his sins, it supposes that he take a correspondentattitude. Were he sinless, the religion suited to him would be the mereutterance of law, and he might stand up before it with the serene brow ofan obedient subject of the Divine government; though even then, not witha proud and boastful temper. It would be out of place for him, to pleadguilty when he was innocent; or to cast himself upon mercy, when he couldappeal to justice. If the creature's acceptance be of works, then it isno more of grace, otherwise work is no more work. But if it be by grace, then it is no more of works (Rom. Xi. 6). If the very first feature ofthe Christian religion is the exhibition of clemency, then the proper andnecessary attitude of one who receives it is that of humility. But, leaving this argument drawn from the characteristics, ofChristianity as a religion of Redemption, let us pass into the soul ofman, and see what we are taught there, respecting the temper which hemust possess in order to receive this new, revealed kingdom of God. Thesoul of man is guilty. Now, there is something in the very nature ofguilt that excludes the proud, self-conscious, self-reliant spirit ofmanhood, and necessitates the lowly, and dependent spirit of childhood. When conscience is full of remorse, and the holy eye of law is searchingus, and fears of eternal banishment and punishment are rakeing thespirit, there is no remedy but simple confession, and childlike relianceupon absolute mercy. The sinner must be a softened child and not a hardman, he must beg a boon and not put in a claim, if he would receive thiskingdom of God, this New Testament religion, into his soul. The slightestinclination to self-righteousness, the least degree of resistance to thejust pressure of law, is a vitiating element in repentance. The musclesof the stout man must give way, the knees must bend, the hands must beuplifted deprecatingly, the eyes must gaze with a straining gaze upon theexpiating Cross, --in other words, the least and last remains of a stoutand self-asserting spirit must vanish, and the whole being must bepliant, bruised, broken, helpless in its state and condition, in orderto a pure sense of guilt, a godly sorrow for sin, and a cordialappropriation of the atonement. The attempt to mix the two tempers, tomingle the child with the man, to confess sin and assertself-righteousness, must be an entire failure, and totally preventthe reception of the religion of Redemption. In relation to the Redeemer, the sinful soul should be a vacuum, a hollow void, destitute ofeverything holy and good, conscious that it is, and aching to be filledwith the fulness of His peace and purity. And with reference to God, the Being whose function it is to pardon, wesee the same necessity for this child-like spirit in the transgressor. How can God administer forgiveness, unless there is a correlated temperto receive it? His particular declarative act in blotting out sin dependsupon the existence of penitence for sin. Where there is absolute hardnessof heart, there can be no pardon, from the very nature of the case, andthe very terms of the statement. Can God say to the hardened Judas:Son be of good cheer, thy sin is forgiven thee? Can He speak to thetraitor as He speaks to the Magdalen? The difficulty is not upon the sideof God. The Divine pity never lags behind any genuine human sorrow. Noman was ever more eager to be forgiven than his Redeemer is to forgivehim. No contrition for sin, upon the part of man, ever yet outran thereadiness and delight of God to recognize it, and meet it with a freepardon. For, that very contrition itself is always the product of Divinegrace, and proves that God is in advance of the soul. The father in theparable saw the son while he was a great way off, _before_ the son sawhim, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. But while this is so, and is an encouragement to the penitent, it must ever be remembered thatunless there is some genuine sorrow in the human soul, there can be nomanifestation of the Divine forgiveness within it. Man cannot beat theair, and God cannot forgive impenitency. II. In the second place, the New Testament religion proposes _to createwithin man a clean heart, and to renew within him a right spirit_. Christianity not only pardons but sanctifies the human soul. And inaccomplishing this latter work, it requires the same humble and dociletemper that was demanded in the former instance. Holiness, even in an unfallen angel, is not an absolutely self-originatedthing. If it were, the angel would be worthy of adoration and worship. Hewho is inwardly and totally excellent, and can also say: I am what I amby my own ultimate authorship, can claim for himself the _glory_ that isdue to righteousness. Any self-originated and self-subsistent virtue isentitled to the hallelujahs. But, no created spirit, though he be thehighest of the archangels, can make such an assertion, or put in such aclaim. The merit of the unfallen angel, therefore, is a relative one;because his holiness is of a created and derived species. It is notincreate and self-subsistent. This being so, it is plain that the properattitude of all creatures in respect to moral excellence is a recipientand dependent one. But this is a meek and lowly attitude; and this is, inone sense, a child-like attitude. Our Lord knew no sin; and yet Hehimself tells us that He was meek and lowly of heart, and we well knowthat He was. He does not say that He was penitent. He does not proposehimself as our exemplar in that respect. But, in respect to the primal, normal attitude which a finite being must ever take in reference to theinfinite and adorable God, and the absolute underived Holiness; inreference to the true temper which a holy man or a holy angel mustpossess; our Lord Jesus Christ, in His human capacity, sets an example tobe followed by the spirits of just men made perfect, and by all the holyinhabitants of heaven. In other words, He teaches the whole universe thatholiness in a creature, even though it be complete, does not permit itspossessor to be self-reliant, does not allow the proud spirit of manhood, does not remove the obligation to be child-like, meek, and lowly ofheart. But if this is true of holiness among those who have never fallen, howmuch more true is it of those who have, and who need to be lifted up outof the abyss. If an angel, in reference to God, must be meek and lowly ofheart; if the holy Redeemer must in His human capacity be meek and lowlyof heart; if the child-like temper, in reference to the infinite andeverlasting Father and the absolutely Good, is the proper one in suchexalted instances as these; how much more is it in the instance of thevile and apostate children of Adam! Besides the original and primitivereason growing out of creaturely relationships, there is the superaddedone growing out of the fact, that now the whole head is sick and thewhole heart is faint, and from the sole of the foot even unto the headthere is no soundness in human nature. Hence, our Lord began His Sermon on the Mount in these words: "Blessedare the poor in spirit; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed arethey that mourn; for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek; forthey shall inherit the earth. Blessed are they which do hunger and thirstafter righteousness; for they shall be filled. "[3] The very opening ofthis discourse, which He intended should go down through the ages as amanifesto declaring the real nature of His kingdom, and the spirit whichHis followers must possess, asserts the necessity of a needy, recipient, asking mind, upon the part of a sinner. All this phraseology impliesdestitution; and a destitution that cannot be self-supplied. He whohungers and thirsts after righteousness is conscious of an inward void, in respect to righteousness, that must be filled from abroad. Hewho is meek is sensible that he is dependent for his moral excellence. Hewho is poor in spirit is, not pusillanimous as Thomas Paine chargedupon Christianity but, as John of Damascus said of himself, a man ofspiritual cravings, _vir desideriorum_. Now, all this delineation of the general attitude requisite in order tothe reception of the Christian religion is summed up again, in thedeclaration of our text: "Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God_as a little child_, he shall not enter therein. " Is a man, then, sensible that his understanding is darkened by sin, and that he isdestitute of clear and just apprehensions of divine things? Does hisconsciousness of inward poverty assume this form? If he would bedelivered from his mental blindness, and be made rich in spiritualknowledge, he must adopt a teachable and recipient attitude. He must notassume that his own mind is the great fountain of wisdom, and seek toclear up his doubts and darkness by the rationalistic method ofself-illumination. On the contrary, he must go beyond his mind and open a_book_, even the Book of Revelation, and search for the wisdom itcontains and proffers. And yet more than this. As this volume is theproduct of the Eternal Spirit himself, and this Spirit conspires with thedoctrines which He has revealed, and exerts a positive illuminatinginfluence, he must seek communion therewith. From first to last, therefore, the darkened human spirit must take a waiting posture, inorder to enlightenment. That part of "the clean heart and the rightspirit" which consists in the _knowledge_ of divine things can beobtained only through a child-like bearing and temper. This is what ourLord means, when He pronounces a blessing upon the poor in spirit, thehungry and the thirsting soul. Men, in their pride and self-reliance, intheir sense of manhood, may seek to enter the kingdom of heaven by adifferent method; they may attempt to _speculate_ their way through allthe mystery that overhangs human life, and the doubts that confuse andbaffle the human understanding; but when they find that the unaidedintellect only "spots a thicker gloom" instead of pouring a serener ray, wearied and worn they return, as it were, to the sweet days of childhood, and in the gentleness, and tenderness, and docility of an altered mood, learn, as Bacon did in respect to the kingdom of nature, that the kingdomof heaven is open only to the little child. Again, is a man conscious of the corruption of his heart? Has hediscovered his alienation from the life and love of God, and is he nowaware that a total change must pass upon him, or that alienation must beeverlasting? Has he found out that his inclinations, and feelings, andtastes, and sympathies are so worldly, so averse from spiritual objects, as to be beyond his sovereignty? Does he feel vividly that the attempt toexpel this carnal mind, and to induce in the place thereof the heavenlyspontaneous glow of piety towards God and man, is precisely like theattempt of the Ethiopian to change his skin, and the leopard his spots? If this experience has been forced upon him, shall he meet it with theport and bearing of a strong man? Shall he take the attitude of the oldRoman stoic, and attempt to meet the exigencies of his moral condition, by the steady strain and hard tug of his own force? He cannot long dothis, under the clear searching ethics of the Sermon on the Mount, without an inexpressible weariness and a profound despair. Were he withinthe sphere of paganism, it might, perhaps, be otherwise. A MarcusAurelius could maintain this legal and self-righteous position to the endof life, because his ideal of virtue was a very low one. Had thathigh-minded pagan felt the influences of Christian ethics, had the Sermonon the Mount searched his soul, telling him that the least emotion ofpride, anger, or lust, was a breach of that everlasting law which stoodgrand and venerable before his philosophic eye, and that his virtue wasall gone, and his soul was exposed to the inflictions of justice, if evena single thought of his heart was unconformed to the perfect rule ofright, --if, instead of the mere twilight of natural religion, there hadflared into his mind the fierce and consuming splendor of the noonday sunof revealed truth, and New Testament ethics, it would have beenimpossible for that serious-minded emperor to say, as in his utterself-delusion he did, to the Deity: "Give me my dues, "--instead ofbreathing the prayer: "Forgive me my debts. " Christianity elevates thestandard and raises the ideal of moral excellence, and thereby disturbsthe self-complacent feeling of the stoic, and the moralist. If the law andrule of right is merely an outward one, it is possible for a mansincerely to suppose that he has kept the law, and his sincerity will behis ruin. For, in this case, he can maintain a self-reliant and aself-satisfied spirit, the spirit of manhood, to the very end of hisearthly career, and go with his righteousness which is as filthy rags, into the presence of Him in whose sight the heavens are not clean. But, if the law and rule of right is seen to be an inward and spiritualstatute, piercing to the dividing asunder of the soul and spirit, andbecoming a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart, it is notpossible for a candid man to delude himself into the belief that hehas perfectly obeyed it; and in this instance, that self-dissatisfiedspirit, that consciousness of internal schism and bondage, that warbetween the flesh and the spirit so vividly portrayed in the seventhchapter of Romans, begins, and instead of the utterance of the moralist:"I have kept the everlasting law, give me my dues, " there bursts forththe self-despairing cry of the penitent and the child: "O wretched manthat I am. ! who shall deliver me? Father I have sinned against heaven andbefore thee. " When, therefore, the truth and Spirit of God, working in and with thenatural conscience, have brought a man to that point where he sees thatall his own righteousness is as filthy rags, and that the pure andstainless righteousness of Jehovah must become the possession and thecharacteristic of his soul, he is prepared to believe the declaration ofour text: "Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a littlechild, he shall not enter therein. " The new heart, and the rightspirit, --the change, not in the mere external behavior but, in the verydisposition and inclination of the soul, --excludes every jot and tittleof self-assertion, every particle of proud and stoical manhood. Such a text as this which we have been considering is well adapted to putus upon the true method of attaining everlasting life. These few andsimple words actually dropped, eighteen hundred years ago, from the lipsof that august Being who is now seated upon the throne of heaven, and whoknows this very instant the effect which they are producing in the heartof every one who either reads or hears them. Let us remember that thesefew and simple words do verily contain the key to everlasting life andglory. In knowing what they mean, we know, infallibly, the way to heaven. "I tell you, that many prophets and kings have desired to see thosethings which we see, and have not seen them: and to hear those thingswhich we hear, and have not heard them. " How many a thoughtful pagan, inthe centuries that have passed and gone, would in all probability haveturned a most attentive ear, had he heard, as we do, from the lips of anunerring Teacher, that a child-like reception of a certain particulartruth, --and that not recondite and metaphysical, but simple as childhooditself, and to be received by a little child's act, --would infalliblyconduct to the elysium that haunted and tantalized him. That which hinders us is our pride, our "manhood. " The act of faith is achild's act; and a child's act, though intrinsically the easiest of any, is relatively the most difficult of all. It implies the surrender of ourself-will, our self-love, our proud manhood; and never was a truer remarkmade than that of Ullmann, that "in no one thing is the strength of aman's will so manifested, as in his having no will of his own. "[4]"Christianity, "--says Jeremy Taylor, --"is the easiest and the hardestthing in the world. It is like a secret in arithmetic; infinitely hardtill it be found out by a right operation, and then it is so plain wewonder we did not understand it earlier. " How hard, how impossiblewithout that Divine grace which makes all such central and revolutionaryacts easy and genial to the soul, --how hard it is to cease from our ownworks, and really become docile and recipient children, believing on theLord Jesus Christ, and trusting in Him, simply and solely, for salvation. [Footnote 1: "Concerning the object of felicity in heaven, we are agreedthat it can be no other than the blessed God himself, theall-comprehending good, fully adequate to the highest and most enlargedreasonable desires. But the contemperation of our faculties to the holy, blissful object, is so necessary to our satisfying fruition, that withoutthis we are no more capable thereof, than a brute of the festivities of aquaint oration, or a stone of the relishes of the most pleasant meats anddrinks. " HOWE: Heaven a State of Perfection. ] [Footnote 2: GOETHE: Wilhelm Meister, Book VII. , ch. Iii. ] [Footnote 3: Compare Isaiah lxi. 1. ] [Footnote 4: ULLMANN: Sinlessness of Jesus, Pt. I. , Ch. Iii. , § 2. ] FAITH THE SOLE SAVING ACT. JOHN vi. 28, 29. --"Then said they unto him, What shall we do, that wemight work the works of God? Jesus answered and said unto them, This isthe work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent. " In asking their question, the Jews intended to inquire of Christ what_particular_ things they must do, before all others, in order to pleaseGod. The "works of God, " as they denominate them, were not any and everyduty, but those more special and important acts, by which the creaturemight secure the Divine approval and favor. Our Lord understood theirquestion in this sense, and in His reply tells them, that the great andonly work for them to do was to exercise faith in Him. They had employedthe plural number in their question; but in His answer He employs thesingular. They had asked, What shall we do that we might work the_works_ of God, --as if there were several of them. His reply is, "This isthe _work_ of God, that ye believe on Him whom He hath sent. " He narrowsdown the terms of salvation to a single one; and makes the destiny of thesoul to depend upon the performance of a particular individual act. Inthis, as in many other incidental ways, our Lord teaches His owndivinity. If He were a mere creature; if He were only an inspired teacherlike David or Paul; how would He dare, when asked to give in a singleword the condition and means of human salvation, to say that they consistin resting the soul upon Him? Would David have dared to say: "This is thework of God, --this is the saving act, --that ye believe in me?" Would Paulhave presumed to say to the anxious inquirer: "Your soul is safe, if youtrust in me?" But Christ makes this declaration, without anyqualification. Yet He was meek and lowly of heart, and never assumedan honor or a prerogative that did not belong to Him. It is only upon thesupposition that He was "very God of very God, " the Divine Redeemer ofthe children of men, that we can justify such an answer to such aquestion. The belief is spontaneous and natural to man, that something must be_done_ in order to salvation. No man expects to reach heaven by inaction. Even the indifferent and supine soul expects to rouse itself up at somefuture time, and work out its salvation. The most thoughtless andinactive man, in religious respects, will acknowledge thatthoughtlessness and inactivity if continued will end in perdition. But he intends at a future day to think, and act, and be saved. Sonatural is it, to every man, to believe in salvation by works; so readyis every one to concede that heaven is reached, and hell is escaped, onlyby an earnest effort of some kind; so natural is it to every man to askwith these Jews, "What shall we _do_, that we may work the works of God?" But mankind generally, like the Jews in the days of our Lord, are under adelusion respecting the _nature_ of the work which must be performed inorder to salvation. And in order to understand this delusion, we mustfirst examine the common notion upon the subject. When a man begins to think of God, and of his own relations to Him, hefinds that he owes Him service and obedience. He has a work to perform, as a subject of the Divine government; and this work is to obey theDivine law. He finds himself obligated to love God with all his heart, and his neighbor as himself, and to discharge all the duties that springout of his relations to God and man. He perceives that this is the "work"given him to do by creation, and that if he does it he will attain thetrue end of his existence, and be happy in time and eternity. Whentherefore he begins to think of a religious life, his first spontaneousimpulse is to begin the performance of this work which he has hithertoneglected, and to reinstate himself in the Divine favor by the ordinarymethod of keeping the law of God. He perceives that this is the mode inwhich the angels preserve themselves holy and happy; that this is theoriginal mode appointed by God, when He established the covenant ofworks; and he does not see why it is not the method for him. The lawexpressly affirms that the man that doeth these things shall live bythem; he proposes to take the law just as it reads, and just as itstands, --to do the deeds of the law, to perform the works which itenjoins, and to live by the service. This we say, is the common notion, natural to man, of the species of work which must be performed in orderto eternal life. This was the idea which filled the mind of the Jews whenthey put the question of the text, and received for answer from Christ, "This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent. " OurLord does not draw out the whole truth, in detail. He gives only thepositive part of the answer, leaving His hearers to infer the negativepart of it. For the whole doctrine of Christ, fully stated, would runthus: "No work _of the kind of which you are thinking_ can save you;no obedience of the law, ceremonial or moral, can reinstate you in rightrelations to God. I do not summon you to the performance of any suchservice as that which you have in mind, in order to your justificationand acceptance before the Divine tribunal. _This_ is the work ofGod, --this is the sole and single act which you are to perform, --namely, that you _believe_ on Him whom He hath sent as a propitiation for sin. Ido not summon you to works of the law, but to faith in Me the Redeemer. Your first duty is not to attempt to acquire a righteousness in the oldmethod, by doing something of yourselves, but to receive a righteousnessin the new method, by trusting in what another has done for you. " I. What is the _ground_ and _reason_ of such an answer as this? Why isman invited to the method of faith in another, instead of the method offaith in himself? Why is not his first spontaneous thought the true one?Why should he not obtain eternal life by resolutely proceeding to do hisduty, and keeping the law of God? Why can he not be saved by the law ofworks? Why is he so summarily shut up to the law of faith? We answer: Because it is _too late_ for him to adopt the method ofsalvation by works. The law is indeed explicit in its assertion, that theman that doeth these things shall live by them; but then it supposes thatthe man begin at the beginning. A subject of government cannot disobey acivil statute for five or ten years, and then put himself in rightrelations to it again, by obeying it for the remainder of his life. Can aman who has been a thief or an adulterer for twenty years, and thenpractises honesty and purity for the following thirty years, stand upbefore the seventh and eighth commandments and be acquitted by them? Itis too late for any being who has violated a law even in a singleinstance, to attempt to be justified by that law. For, the law demandsand supposes that obedience begin at the very _beginning_ of existence, and continue down _uninterruptedly_ to the end of it. No man can come inat the middle of a process of obedience, any more than he can come in atthe last end of it, if he proposes to be accepted upon the ground of_obedience_. "I testify, " says St. Paul, "to every man that iscircumcised, that he is a debtor to do the _whole_ law" (Gal. V. 3). Thewhole, or none, is the just and inexorable rule which law lays down inthe matter of justification. If any subject of the Divine government canshow a clean record, from the beginning to the end of his existence, thestatute says to him, "Well done, " and gives him the reward which he hasearned. And it gives it to him not as a matter of grace, but of debt. Thelaw never makes a present of wages. It never pays out wages, until theyare earned, ---fairly and fully earned. But when a perfect obedience fromfirst to last is rendered to its claims, the compensation follows asmatter of debt. The law, in this instance, is itself brought underobligation. It owes a reward to the perfectly obedient subject of law, and it considers itself his debtor until it is paid. "Now to him thatworketh, is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt. If it be ofworks, then it is no more grace: otherwise work is no more work" (Rom. Iv. 4; xi. 6). But, on the other hand, law is equally exact and inflexible, in case thework has not been performed. It will not give eternal life to a soul thathas sinned ten years, and then perfectly obeyed ten years, --supposingthat there is any such soul. The obedience, as we have remarked, must runparallel with the _entire_ existence, in order to be a ground, ofjustification. Infancy, childhood, youth, manhood, old age, and then thewhole immortality that succeeds, must all be unintermittently sinless andholy, in order to make eternal life a matter of debt. Justice is as exactand punctilious upon this side, as it is upon the other. We have seen, that when a perfect obedience has been rendered, justice will not palmoff the wages that are due as if they were some gracious gift; and on theother hand, when a perfect obedience has not been rendered, it will notbe cajoled into the bestowment of wages as if they had been earned. Thereis no principle that is so intelligent, so upright, and so exact, asjustice; and no creature can expect either to warp it, or to circumventit. In the light of these remarks, it is evident that it is _too late_ for asinner to avail himself of the method of salvation by works. For, thatmethod requires that sinless obedience begin at the beginning of hisexistence, and never be interrupted. But no man thus begins, and no manthus continues. "The wicked are estranged from the womb; they go astrayas soon as they be born, speaking lies" (Ps. Lviii. 3). Man comes intothe world a sinful and alienated creature. He is by nature a child ofwrath (Eph. Ii. 3). Instead of beginning life with holiness, he begins itwith sin. His heart at birth is apostate and corrupt; and his conductfrom the very first is contrary to law. Such is the teaching ofScripture, such is the statement of the Creeds, and such is the testimonyof consciousness, respecting the character which man brings into theworld with him. The very dawn of human life is clouded with depravity; ismarked by the carnal mind which is at enmity with the law of God, and isnot subject to that law, neither indeed can be. How is it possible, then, for man to attain eternal life by a method that supposes, and requires, that the very dawn of his being be holy like that of Christ's, and thatevery thought, feeling, purpose, and act be conformed to law through theentire existence? Is it not _too late_ for such a creature as man now isto adopt the method of salvation by the works of the law? But we will not crowd you, with the doctrine of native depravity and thesin in Adam. We have no doubt that it is the scriptural and true doctrineconcerning human nature; and have no fears that it will be contradictedby either a profound self-knowledge, or a profound metaphysics. Butperhaps you are one who doubts it; and therefore, for the sake ofargument, we will let you set the commencement of sin where you please. If you tell us that it begins in the second, or the fourth, or the tenthyear of life, it still remains true that it is _too late_ to employ themethod of justification by works. If you concede any sin at all, at anypoint whatsoever, in the history of a human soul, you preclude it fromsalvation by the deeds of the law, and shut it up to salvation by grace. Go back as far as you can in your memory, and you must acknowledge thatyou find sin as far as you go; and even if, in the face of Scripture andthe symbols of the Church, you should deny that the sin runs back tobirth and apostasy in Adam, it still remains true that the first years ofyour _conscious_ existence were not years of holiness, nor the first actswhich you _remember_, acts of obedience. Even upon your own theory, you_begin_ with sin, and therefore you cannot be justified by the law. This, then, is a conclusive reason and ground for the declaration of ourLord, that the one great work which every fallen man has to perform, andmust perform, in order to salvation, is faith in _another's_ work, andconfidence in _another's_ righteousness. If man is to be saved by his ownrighteousness, that righteousness must begin at the very beginning of hisexistence, and go on without interruption. If he is to be saved by hisown good works, there never must be a single instant in his life when heis not working such works. But beyond all controversy such is not thefact. It is, therefore, impossible for him to be justified by trusting inhimself; and the only possible mode that now remains, is to trust inanother. II. And this brings us to the second part of our subject. "This is thework of God, that ye _believe_ on him whom He hath sent. " It will beobserved that faith is here denominated a "work. " And it is so indeed. Itis a mental act; and an act of the most comprehensive and energeticspecies. Faith is an active principle that carries the whole man with it, and in it, --head and heart, will and affections, body soul and spirit. There is no act so all-embracing in its reach, and so total in itsmomentum, as the act of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. In this sense, itis a "work. " It is no supine and torpid thing; but the most vital andvigorous activity that can be conceived of. When a sinner, moved by theHoly Ghost the very source of spiritual life and energy, casts himself inutter helplessness, and with all his weight, upon his Redeemer forsalvation, never is he more active, and never does he do a greater work. And yet, faith is not a work in the common signification of the word. Inthe Pauline Epistles, it is generally opposed to works, in such a way asto exclude them. For example: "Where is boasting then? It is excluded. Bywhat law? of works? Nay, but by the law of faith. Therefore we concludethat a man is justified by faith, without the deeds of the law. Knowingthat a man is not justified by the works of the law but by the faith ofJesus Christ, even we have believed in Jesus Christ, that we might bejustified, by the faith of Christ and not by the works of the law. Received ye the Spirit, by the works of the law, or by the hearing offaith?"[1] In these and other passages, faith and works are directlycontrary to each other; so that in this connection, faith is not a"work. " Let us examine this point, a little in detail, for it will throwlight upon the subject under discussion. In the opening of the discourse, we alluded to the fact that when a man'sattention is directed to the subject of his soul's salvation, his firstspontaneous thought is, that he must of _himself_ render something toGod, as an offset for his sins; that he must perform his duty by _hisown_ power and effort, and thereby acquire a personal merit before hisMaker and Judge. The thought of appropriating another person's work, ofmaking use of what another being has done in his stead, does not occur tohim; or if it does, it is repulsive to him. His thought is, that it ishis own soul that is to be saved, and it is his own work that must saveit. Hence, he begins to perform religious duties in the ordinary use ofhis own faculties, and in his own strength, for the purpose, and with theexpectation, of _settling the account_ which he knows is unsettled, between himself and his Judge. As yet, there is no faith in anotherBeing. He is not trusting and resting in another person; but he istrusting and resting in himself. He is not making use of the work orservices which another has wrought in his behalf, but he is employinghis own powers and faculties, in performing these his own works, which heowes, and which, if paid in this style, he thinks will save his soul. This is the spontaneous, and it is the correct, idea of a "work, "--ofwhat St. Paul so often calls a "work of the law. " And it is the exactcontrary of faith. For, faith never does anything in this independent and self-reliantmanner. It does not perform a service in its own strength, and then holdit out to God as something for Him to receive, and for which He must payback wages in the form of remitting sin and bestowing happiness. Faith iswholly occupied with _another's_ work, and _another's_ merit. Thebelieving soul deserts all its own doings, and betakes itself to what athird person has wrought for it, and in its stead. When, forillustration, a sinner discovers that he owes a satisfaction to EternalJustice for the sins that are past, if he adopts the method of works, hewill offer up his endeavors to obey the law, as an offset, and a reasonwhy he should be forgiven. He will say in his heart, if he does not inhis prayer: "I am striving to atone for the past, by doing my duty in thefuture; my resolutions, my prayers and alms-giving, all this hardstruggle to be better and to do better, ought certainly to avail for mypardon. " Or, if he has been educated in a superstitious Church, he willoffer up his penances, and mortifications, and pilgrimages, as asatisfaction to justice, and a reason why he should be forgiven and madeblessed forever in heaven. That is a very instructive anecdote which St. Simon relates respecting the last hours of the profligate Louis XIV. "Oneday, "--he says, --"the king recovering from loss of consciousness askedhis confessor, Pere Tellier, to give him absolution for all his sins. Pere Tellier asked him if he suffered much. 'No, ' replied the king, 'that's what troubles me. I should like to suffer more, for the expiationof my sins. '" Here was a poor mortal who had spent his days in carnalityand transgression of the pure law of God. He is conscious of guilt, andfeels the need of its atonement. And now, upon the very edge of eternityand brink of doom, he proposes to make his own atonement, to be his ownredeemer and save his own soul, by offering up to the eternal nemesisthat was racking his conscience a few hours of finite suffering, insteadof betaking himself to the infinite passion and agony of Calvary. This isa work; and, alas, a "_dead_ work, " as St. Paul so often denominates it. This is the method of justification by works. But when a man adopts themethod of justification by faith, his course is exactly opposite to allthis. Upon discovering that he owes a satisfaction to Eternal Justice forthe sins that are past, instead of holding up his prayers, oralms-giving, or penances, or moral efforts, or any work of his own, heholds up the sacrificial work of Christ. In his prayer to God, heinterposes the agony and death of the Great Substitute between his guiltysoul, and the arrows of justice. [2] He knows that the very best of hisown works, that even the most perfect obedience that a creature couldrender, would be pierced through and through by the glittering shafts ofviolated law. And therefore he takes the "shield of faith. " He places theoblation of the God-man, --not his own work and not his own suffering, butanother's work and another's suffering, --between himself and the judicialvengeance of the Most High. And in so doing, he works no work of his own, and no dead work; but he works the "work of God;" he _believes_ on Himwhom God hath set forth to be a propitiation for his sins, and not forhis only but for the sins of the whole world. This then is the great doctrine which our Lord taught the Jews, when theyasked Him what particular thing or things they must do in order toeternal life. The apostle John, who recorded the answer of Christ in thisinstance, repeats the doctrine again in his first Epistle: "Whatsoever weask, we receive of Him, because we keep His commandment, and do thosethings that are pleasing in His sight. And _this is His commandment_, that we should _believe_ on the name of His Son Jesus Christ" (1 Johniii, 22, 23). The whole duty of sinful man is here summed up, andconcentrated, in the duty to trust in another person than himself, and inanother work than his own. The apostle, like his Lord before him, employsthe singular number: "This is His commandment, "--as if there were noother commandment upon record. And this corresponds with the answer whichPaul and Silas gave to the despairing jailor: "Believe on the Lord JesusChrist, "--do this one single thing, --"and thou shalt be saved. " And allof these teachings accord with that solemn declaration of our Lord: "Hethat believeth on the Son hath everlasting life; and he that believethnot the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him. " Inthe matter of salvation, where there is faith in Christ, there iseverything; and where there is not faith in Christ, there is nothing. 1. And it is with this thought that we would close this discourse, andenforce the doctrine of the text. Do whatever else you may in the matterof religion, you have done nothing until you have believed on the LordJesus Christ, whom God hath, sent into the world to be the propitiationfor sin. There are two reasons for this. In the first place, it is _theappointment and declaration of God_, that man, if saved at all, must besaved by faith in the Person and Work of the Mediator. "Neither is theresalvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven givenamong men, whereby we must be saved" (Acts iv. 12). It of course restsentirely with the Most High God, to determine the mode and manner inwhich He will enter into negotiations with His creatures, and especiallywith His rebellious creatures. He must make the terms, and the creaturemust come to them. Even, therefore, if we could not see thereasonableness and adaptation of the method, we should be obligated toaccept it. The creature, and particularly the guilty creature, cannotdictate to his Sovereign and Judge respecting the terms and conditions bywhich he is to be received into favor, and secure eternal life. Menoverlook this fact, when they presume as they do, to sit in judgment uponthe method of redemption by the blood of atonement and to quarrel withit. In the first Punic war, Hannibal laid siege to Saguntum, a rich andstrongly-fortified city on the eastern coast of Spain. It was defendedwith a desperate obstinacy by its inhabitants. But the discipline, theenergy, and the persistence of the Carthaginian army, were too much forthem; and just as the city was about to fall, Alorcus, a Spanishchieftain, and a mutual friend of both of the contending parties, undertook to mediate between them. He proposed to the Saguntines thatthey should surrender, allowing the Carthaginian general to make his ownterms. And the argument he used was this: "Your city is captured, in anyevent. Further resistance will only bring down upon you the rage of anincensed soldiery, and the horrors of a sack. Therefore, surrenderimmediately, and take whatever Hannibal shall please to give. You cannotlose anything by the procedure, and you may gain something, even thoughit be little. "[3] Now, although there is no resemblance between thegovernment of the good and merciful God and the cruel purposes andconduct of a heathen warrior, and we shrink from bringing the two intoany kind of juxtaposition, still, the advice of the wise Alorcus to theSaguntines is good advice for every sinful man, in reference to hisrelations to Eternal Justice. We are all of us at the mercy of God. Should He make no terms at all; had He never given His Son to die for oursins, and never sent His Spirit to exert a subduing influence upon ourhard hearts, but had let guilt and justice take their inexorable coursewith us; not a word could be uttered against the procedure by heaven, earth, or hell. No creature, anywhere can complain of justice. That is anattribute that cannot even be attacked. But the All-Holy is also theAll-Merciful. He has made certain terms, and has offered certainconditions of pardon, without asking leave of His creatures and withouttaking them into council, and were these terms as strict as Draco, instead of being as tender and pitiful as the tears and blood of Jesus, it would become us criminals to make no criticisms even in that extremecase, but accept them precisely as they were offered by the Sovereign andthe Arbiter. We exhort you, therefore, to take these terms of salvationsimply as they are given, asking no questions, and being thankful thatthere are any terms at all between the offended majesty of Heaven and theguilty criminals of earth. Believe on Him whom God hath sent, because itis the appointment and declaration of God, that if guilty man is to besaved at all, he must be saved by faith in the Person and Work of theMediator. The very disposition to quarrel with this method impliesarrogance in dealing with the Most High. The least inclination to alterthe conditions shows that the creature is attempting to criticise theCreator, and, what is yet more, that the criminal has no true perceptionof his crime, no sense of his exposed and helpless situation, andpresumes to dictate the terms of his own pardon! 2. We might therefore leave the matter here, and there would be asufficient reason for exercising the act of faith in Christ. But there isa second and additional reason which we will also briefly urge upon you. Not only is it the Divine appointment, that man shall be saved, if savedat all, by the substituted work of another; but there are _needs_, thereare crying _wants_, in the human conscience, that can be supplied by noother method. There is a perfect _adaptation_ between the Redemption thatis in Christ Jesus, and the guilt of sinners. As we have seen, we couldreasonably urge you to Believe in Him whom God hath sent, simply becauseGod has sent Him, and because He has told you that He will save youthrough no other name and in no other way, and will save you in this nameand in this way. But we now urge you to the act of faith in thissubstituted work of Christ, because it has an _atoning_ virtue, and canpacify a perturbed and angry conscience; can wash out the stains of guiltthat are grained into it; can extract the sting of sin which ulceratesand burns there. It is the idea of _expiation_ and _satisfaction_ that wenow single out, and press upon your notice. Sin must beexpiated, --expiated either by the blood of the criminal, or by the bloodof his Substitute. You must either die for your own sin, or some one whois able and willing must die for you. This is founded and fixed in thenature of God, and the nature of man, and the nature of sin. There is aneternal and necessary connection between crime and penalty. The wages ofsin is death. But, all this inexorable necessity has been completelyprovided for, by the sacrificial work of the Son of God. In the gospel, God satisfies His own justice for the sinner, and now offers you the fullbenefit of the satisfaction, if you will humbly and penitently accept it. "What compassion can equal the words of God the Father addressed to thesinner condemned to eternal punishment, and having no means of redeeminghimself: 'Take my Only-Begotten Son, and make Him an offering forthyself;' or the words of the Son: 'Take Me, and ransom thy soul?' Forthis is what _both_ say, when they invite and draw man to faith in thegospel. "[4] In urging you, therefore, to trust in Christ's vicarioussufferings for sin, instead of going down to hell and suffering for sinin your own person; in entreating you to escape the stroke of justiceupon yourself, by believing in Him who was smitten in your stead, who"was wounded for your transgressions and bruised for your iniquities;" inbeseeching you to let the Eternal Son of God be your Substitute in thisawful judicial transaction; we are summoning you to no arbitrary andirrational act. The peace of God which it will introduce into yourconscience, and the love of God which it will shed abroad through yoursoul, will be the most convincing of all proofs that the act of faith inthe great Atonement does no violence to the ideas and principles of thehuman constitution. No act that contravenes those intuitions andconvictions which are part and particle of man's moral nature couldpossibly produce peace and joy. It would be revolutionary and anarchical. The soul could not rest an instant. And yet it is the uniform testimonyof all believers in the Lord Jesus Christ, that the act of simpleconfiding faith in His blood and righteousness is the most peaceful, themost joyful act they ever performed, --nay, that it was the first_blessed_ experience they ever felt in this world of sin, this world ofremorse, this world of fears and forebodings concerning judgment anddoom. Is the question, then, of the Jews, pressing upon your mind? Do you ask, What one particular single thing shall I do, that I may be safe for timeand eternity? Hear the answer of the Son of God Himself: "This is thework of God, that ye believe on Him whom He hath sent. " [Footnote 1: Romans iii. 27, 28; Galatians ii. 16, iii. 2. ] [Footnote 2: The religious teacher is often asked to define the act offaith, and explain the way and manner in which the soul is to exerciseit. "_How_ shall I believe?" is the question with which the anxious mindoften replies to the gospel injunction to believe. Without pretendingthat it is a complete answer, or claiming that it is possible, in thestrict meaning of the word, to explain so simple and so profound an actas faith, we think, nevertheless, that it assists the inquiring mind tosay, that whoever _asks in prayer_ for any one of the benefits ofChrist's redemption, in so far exercises faith in this redemption. Whoever, for example, lifts up the supplication, "O Lamb of Godwho takest away the sins of the world, grant me thy peace, " in thisprayer puts faith in the atonement, He trusts in the atonement, by_pleading_ the atonement, --by mentioning it, in his supplication, as the reason why he may be forgiven. In like manner, he who asks for therenewing and sanctifying influences of the Holy Ghost exercises faith, inthese influences. This is the mode in which he expresses his _confidence_in the power of God to accomplish a work in his heart that is beyond hisown power. Whatever, therefore, be the particular benefit in Christ'sredemption that one would trust in, and thereby make personally his own, that he may live by it and be blest by it, --be it the atoning blood, orbe it the indwelling Spirit, --let him _ask_ for that benefit. If he wouldtrust _in_ the thing, let him ask _for_ the thing. Since writing the above, we have met with a corroboration of this view, by a writer of the highest authority upon such points. "Faith is thatinward sense and act, of which prayer is the _expression_; as is evident, because in the same manner as the freedom of grace, according to thegospel covenant, is often set forth by this, that he that _believes_, receives; so it also oftentimes is by this, that he that _asks_, or_prays_, or _calls upon_ God, receives. 'Ask and it shall be given you;seek and ye shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you. Forevery one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and tohim that knocketh, it shall be opened. And all things whatsoever ye shall_ask in prayer, believing_, ye shall receive (Matt. Vii. 7, 8; Mark xi. 24). If ye _abide_ in me and my words abide in you, ye shall _ask_ whatye will, and it shall be done unto you' (John xv. 7). Prayer is oftenplainly spoken of as the expression of faith. As it very certainly is inRomans x. 11-14: 'For the Scripture saith, Whosoever _believeth_ on himshall not be ashamed. For there is no difference between the Jew andthe Greek: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that _call_ uponhim; for whosoever shall _call_ upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. 'How then shall they _call_ on him in whom they have not _believed_. 'Christian prayer is called the prayer of _faith_ (James v. 15). 'I willthat men everywhere lift up holy hands, without wrath and _doubting_ (1Tim. Ii. 8). Draw near in full assurance of _faith_' (Heb. X. 22). Thesame expressions that are used, in Scripture, for faith, may well be usedfor prayer also; such as _coming_ to God or Christ, and _looking_ to Him. 'In whom we have boldness and _access_ with confidence, by the _faith_ ofhim' (Eph. Iii. 12). " EDWARDS: Observations concerning Faith. ] [Footnote 3: Livius: Historia, Lib. Xxi. 12. ] [Footnote 4: ANSELM: Cur Deus Homo? II. 20. ]