Chapter II: Part 2

DISCOURSE IV.
The Religion of Jesus, the only Source of Happiness.

St. JOHN, CHAP. vi. VER. 66, 67, 68.

"FROM THAT TIME MANY OF DISCIPLES WENT BACK, AND WALKED NO MORE WITH
HIM. THEN SAID JESUS UNTO THE TWELVE, WILL YE ALSO GO AWAY? THEN
SIMON PETER ANSWERED HIM, LORD! TO WHOM SHALL WE GO? THOU HAST THE
WORDS OF ETERNAL LIFE."

The motives which induced many of our Lord's first followers to withdraw themselves from his person, and wholly relinquish the connection they had formed with him and his disciples, I have explained in the preceding discourse. The erroneous conduct of mankind in general, their mistaken notions of happiness, the false and dangerous paths in which they pursue it, their delusive hopes and real disappointments; the palliative arts they make use of to reconcile their duty with their passions, and the various methods by which they deceive themselves as well as others; their hypocritical pretensions to religion, and the ways in which their deceptions are discovered, and their pharisaical professions unveiled; in a word, the genuine sources of that error and apostasy, into which the unworthy disciples mentioned in the text, as well as others who have since imitated their example, have sadly degenerated; all these particulars were suggested to my mind, from the consideration of these words of the Evangelist, "From that time many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him."

The tender and pathetic expostulation which this ungenerous conduct produced from the blessed lips of the common Friend and Saviour of Man, breathes such a spirit of love, kindness, and compassion, towards the souls of those whom he came to redeem, as cannot but claim our most serious and grateful attention. The deep concern he must have felt for such an instance of apostasy, added to his apprehensions of the fatal influence it might have upon his beloved Apostles, awakened in him all those innocent and delicate sensibilities, which, even in his human nature, were the genuine offspring of that ETERNAL LOVE to which he was essentially united.

Friendship, true friendship, is the HEAVEN-BORN OFFSPRING of Divine Charity. Heaven is her native country. In that pure and gentle element she lives and moves without constraint, free, chearful, delighting and delighted. If ever she deigns to associate with the sons of men, it is among the truly virtuous alone she can be found. She visits none but those, whose "conversation is in heaven," who have within them a birth congenial with her own, whose hearts and affections are governed by the Spirit of Love, and can only be wooed and won by correspondent tempers and characters. Her sacred name, indeed, is often prostituted to venal, base, and corrupt purposes. Her fair and beauteous garb is often worn by the votaries of avarice, pleasure, and ambition. Her sweet aspect, her mild and winning graces, her obliging and disinterested disposition, yea, even her peculiar warmth of affection, and glowing sensibility of heart, are all profanely counterfeited by the selfish and sensual, the vain and the aspiring.

Take it for granted, however, that man, whether gay, dissolute, covetous, or ambitious, is incapable of real friendship: all his designs and prospects center in himself, and every seeming act of kindness, every splendid appearance of courtesy and generosity, is calculated to promote some selfish purpose, to procure some temporal emolument.

Far different is the friendship of those who are "born of God;" who, from a vital union with the Source of Love, derive such pure and unadulterated streams of Charity into their breasts, as manifest themselves in a life of general beneficence towards all men, and a warm, affectionate, spiritual attachment towards "those especially, who are of the houshold of faith." Such, but in the purest highest degree, were those heavenly feelings of true friendship, with which the heart of JESUS glowed, when he uttered this sweet and endearing expostulation, "Will ye also go away?"

The words are few, but the sentiments are manifold, gracious, and animating; and they cannot but appear so to those, who attend, with nice discernment, to the common feelings of human nature. It is to these common feelings that our Lord makes his appeal, in all his heavenly discourses.

Though, from the general corruption, it is a case that has but seldom occurred in the page of history, yet let us suppose a good and virtuous man, associated with a set of good and virtuous companions, bound to him by the strong and endearing ties of private friendship, in the defence of some good and virtuous cause. Novelty, the love of fame, a desire of appearing to the world in some conspicuous point of view, the prospect of some great temporal advantages, and a variety of other motives of a selfish nature, might suddenly prompt a considerable number of persons to join these champions of virtue, and follow them in the glorious enterprize. Enemies appear, dangers threaten; yea, death, perhaps, in all its horrors, presents itself to their view. Personal security is to be preferred before the general interest of virtue; and where virtue cannot be supported without personal losses, her cause must be abandoned. Upon these principles, the weak and timid multitude forsake their gallant leader. Attached to him by no bonds, but those of interest or ambition, when these fail, they think themselves at liberty to abandon his person and his cause. The noble chieftain, not so much affected with the prospect of danger to himself and his cause, as with a real concern for the baseness of his followers, and an apprehension, that their flight might perhaps intimidate those, whom he knew to be attached, from principle, to virtue and himself; the noble chieftain, I say, might with great propriety, and without the least tincture of fear or despondency, but rather as a trial of their fidelity, and a most powerful incentive to new and more vigorous efforts, address himself in such words to the chosen few, as those, which the great Captain of our Salvation delivered upon this occasion: "Will ye, also go away?" In this address, there is not implied the least unkind suspicion of their integrity. It is no more than an affectionate appeal to the warm and tender sensations of true and genuine friendship.

O, my beloved Apostles! ye see the weakness, timidity, and worldly-mindedness, of those pretended friends, who have hitherto associated with us. So violent hath been their attachment to earthly pursuits, that they would not suffer truths of the highest importance to interfere with them for a moment. My last spiritual address was too deep and powerful a stroke at their corruptions. Could they have continued in fellowship with us upon their own terms, and made their connexion subservient to their own views of temporal interest, they would not have so suddenly forsaken us. But shall their conduct have the least influence upon yours? Will ye be intimidated by their flight? Will ye suffer your fidelity and perseverance to be shaken by their evil example? Will ye unkindly abandon a Master, into whose service ye entered upon the most disinterested principles, and who knows and feels you to be attached to him by the heavenly ties of religion and love? After having seen so many indubitable testimonies of that almighty power wherewith he is invested, will ye doubt his ability to protect and deliver you? After so many kind and instructive conversations, in the course of which he hath gradually, and as he found you "could bear them," opened to you the great truths of his spiritual kingdom; will ye be such enemies to yourselves, and your real happiness, as to forsake your best of friends, your kindest and most powerful protector? "Will ye also go away?"

These sentiments, and more than these, are expressed in this pathetic expostulation: and for our comfort, my brethren, may we ever recollect, that, though ascended into the highest heavens, and seated at the right hand of his Father, he continues the same loving conduct towards all his faithful friends and followers, that he observed towards his disciples whilst he was upon earth. The same gentle and affectionate modes of speech, the same tender, but awakening expostulations, to which his Apostles were accustomed, he still applies to the heart of every believer.

If we look back to past experience, we shall be convinced, that this very expostulation of our compassionate Master, hath frequently sounded in our ears. When the infectious influence of evil example, the sudden attack of some powerful temptation, some severe stroke of adversity, or some smiling prospect of temporal felicity; when these, or any of these, have secretly solicited our frail nature, to relinquish our religious pursuits, to surrender ourselves to the dominion of sin, and renounce the favour and protection of our Master; hath he not frequently, and with ineffable tenderness, whispered this gentle reprehension to our hearts, "Will ye also go away?" Happy, indeed, if, with Peter's affectionate warmth, and honest faithful adherence to our Lord, amidst the severest trials, we have been enabled to reply, from a full conviction of our own weakness, and of his all-sufficiency, "Lord! to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of Eternal Life."

Peter generally spoke in the name of all his brethren. His answer here, therefore, is to be considered as a solemn declaration on the part of the Apostles, of their firm trust and confidence in their Master, founded on the full evidence they had received of his Divinity. As if he had said:

Think not, dearest Master, that thy faithful disciples are actuated by such unworthy motives as have prompted some of their weak and carnal brethren to forsake thee. No--we are intimately convinced of the folly of depending upon any creaturely strength, or seeking for happiness in any sublunary prospect. Thou hast opened upon our wondering souls such scenes of heavenly bliss, thou hast manifested to our outward senses such astonishing displays of thy absolute power over all temporal nature, thou hast revived our hearts with such sweet draughts of those rivers of pleasure that surround thy Father's throne, thou hast enlightened our understandings with such piercing beams of truth, thou hast placed such endearing objects before our will and affections, and hast so enamoured our souls with the beauty and excellency of thy Gospel; that we are perfectly satisfied to remain with thee for ever, implicitly to follow thy blessed footsteps, to accompany thee through all the difficulties and dangers of life, and even to meet death undaunted at thy side. Indeed, "to whom shall we go?" Every creature around us, bears the stamp of its own imperfection. Whatever they possess of beauty or of bliss, it is all from thee, thou Lord of life, and source of all perfection! They are in themselves, as poor and indigent as we are. If we make the experiment, and go to them in quest of happiness, our fond hopes are suddenly overthrown, and vexation succeeds to disappointment. The life we are now in, is fallen, temporal, and transient. The words of this life are as vain as the life itself: for it can only speak what it knows and feels, and the sum and substance of this is want and woe. But as thou hast in thyself the very source of eternal life, by virtue of thy eternal union with the Father; as the powers, sensibilities, virtues, and perfections of this life, are completely opened in thee; as the "fulness of the GODHEAD dwells bodily" in thee, so thy words must be the "words of eternal life:" for thou "speakest that thou dost know, and testifiest that thou hast seen." Thy outward words are, indeed, but the outward signs of this life eternal; the real participation of it can be nothing less than an inward and vital union of our wills with thine, effectually co-operating, and gradually "transforming us into thine own image, from glory to glory."

Such was the import of the Apostle's reply; and such must be the real heart-felt language of every sinner, that expects peace and pardon at the hands of the Almighty. Pardon of sin, is not, as some vainly imagine, like the cancelling of a bond, the remitting of a debt, or the forgiveness of an injury betwixt man and man. No--It is a "dying unto sin, and a rising again unto righteousness." It is life eternal opening itself in the fallen soul, and extinguishing the life of sin, or at least keeping it in due subjection, till the dissolution of the body puts an end to its connection with this fallen world; it is, according to the Apostle's language, "the law of the spirit of life making us free from the law of sin and death."

That eternal life, which we have, and can have only from JESUS CHRIST, the second Adam, can alone pardon, remit, atone, cover, extinguish, (for all these are words of the same spiritual import) that earthly life, which we have received from the first Adam. The very first motion of this eternal life within us, is a conviction of the vanity, sin, and folly of our earthly life. "They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." A sensibility of want and weakness must necessarily precede a desire of relief: and the soul must be "weary and heavy laden," oppressed beneath the burden of her fallen nature, and convinced of its inability to yield her a moment's real peace, before she will think of making this solemn inquiry, "what shall I do to be saved? to whom shall I go?" Yea, even after she is come thus far, many a weary step must be taken, many doubts and difficulties must be encountered, before she will be able, from her own experience, to adopt this declaration of the Apostle, "Thou hast the words of eternal life."

Those doubts and difficulties, with which men are frequently embarrassed in their spiritual researches, do in a great measure proceed from that general deviation from the primitive simplicity of Gospel Truth and Gospel Language, which so sadly prevails among the various denominations of Christians; in consequence of which, a multitude of useless and unscriptural distinctions have been introduced into catechisms, systems of divinity, and even books of practical devotion, which serve only to perplex and confound the mind of anxious and well-disposed inquirers.

"To whom shall I go?" cries the poor penitent sinner, whom CHRIST, by the Power of his Grace, hath brought to a sensibility of his fallen life. Why, go to the priest, says one; confess, and get absolution, and you will come away as innocent as a new-born babe. Go, and study the Augsburg confession, says another, and you will soon have every doubt and difficulty removed. Go, says a third, and read Calvin's system with great attention, and you will soon find your soul at rest. Some advise him to join himself to one sect of Christians, and some to another; each maintaining, in his turn, that the life and power of religion is only to be found among those of his own particular society.

The poor misguided seeker eagerly catches at every thing that looks like spiritual advice; runs from one book to another, from one church and conventicle to another, "seeking rest, but finding none," or at most, a temporary peace, a partial truce from extreme distress; whereas after all, a few plain words of Scripture, properly applied and attended to, will go further towards setting him right in his researches, than all the popes and priests, and Luthers, and Calvins, and sects and denominations, in the world.

What then hath a minister of CHRIST, or indeed any private Christian, to say or do, when a true penitent under such circumstances applies to him for advice, and asks him with the utmost anxiety, "To whom shall I go?" What can he do, what can he say, that will have a more immediate tendency to fix his attention, and compose his distracted mind, than to answer him in the words of the text? "To whom shouldst thou go, but to JESUS CHRIST? it is he alone who hath the words of Eternal Life."

I know no other end of preaching but this; and I am sure, that we are warranted by Scripture to declare to every such humbled, penitent, and afflicted sinner, that if he thus seeks CHRIST, he shall not seek in vain. By faithfully directing his will and affections towards his REDEEMER, thus inwardly unfolding his graces and virtues in his heart, he will become more and more acquainted, and more and more comforted, with that "Life Eternal, which is the gift of GOD in CHRIST JESUS."

DISCOURSE V.
True Religion, a costly and continual Sacrifice.

2 SAMUEL, CHAP. xxiv, VERSE 24.

"AND THE KING SAID UNTO ARAUNAH, NAY, BUT I WILL SURELY BUY IT OF
THEE AT A PRICE; NEITHER WILL I OFFER BURNT-OFFERINGS UNTO THE LORD
MY GOD, OF THAT WHICH DOTH COST ME NOTHING."

The preceding part of this chapter presents us with an awful and instructive example of the fatal consequences which result from an unbelief or distrust of the providential power and goodness of GOD. Contrary to the express command of the Almighty, contrary to the spirit of that dispensation, which inculcated an absolute and implicit reliance upon Heaven in all dangers and difficulties, yea, contrary to an happy experience of the most signal interpositions of Omnipotence; David had rashly issued a commission to the general and officers of his host, to go through all the tribes of Israel, and take a particular and exact account of the numbers of his people. Such a flagrant instance of unfaithfulness to his GOD, after so many merciful deliverances received, drew upon him a most severe chastisement. To humble the haughtiness of his spirit, and convince him of the folly of depending upon the arm of flesh, instead of taking the most HIGH GOD for his shield and defence, a messenger of vengeance was immediately sent forth. From Dan even to Beersheba, he marked his progress with carnage and desolation: seventy thousand men, within the space of a few hours, fell a sacrifice to the devouring pestilence. He soon reached the beloved city, and was preparing to pour his phial of wrath upon the mount of GOD. The eyes of the unhappy monarch were now opened: he saw the destroying angel, humbled himself in the dust, acknowledged his guilt, and deprecated the further progress of the contagion. "Lo, I have sinned, and I have done wickedly: but these sheep, what have they done?" Omnipotence arrested the Angel in his progress: "It is enough--stay now thine hand." And David was directed by the prophet Gad, to rear an altar unto the LORD, on the very spot where the pestilence had ceased. This spot was the threshing-floor of Araunah the Jebusite.

Deeply sensible of the greatness of his deliverance, the king immediately proceeded to execute the divine command. Araunah discovered him at a distance; and with all the submission of a conquered and tributary prince, hastened to meet him, and "bowed himself before the king on his face to the ground." "And Araunah said, Wherefore is my lord the king come unto his servant?" And David said, "To buy the threshing-floor of thee, to build an altar unto the LORD, that the plague may be stayed from the people." Araunah, as a king, with a princely generosity of spirit, immediately offered him, not only the threshing-floor, but also his oxen for the sacrifice, and his threshing instruments for wood. "And the king said unto Araunah, Nay, but I will surely buy it of thee at a price; neither will I offer burnt-offerings unto the LORD my GOD, of that which doth cost me nothing." The plain and obvious meaning of which is undoubtedly this:

Hath GOD favoured me with such an astonishing deliverance? Hath he manifested his goodness and loving-kindness in withdrawing his chastising hand, pardoning my guilt, and sparing me and my people from utter destruction? Surely, then, I will not grudge, the trifling expence of erecting, upon this spot, a monument of his love. Surely I will not accept of the labours of another, or testify my gratitude by burnt-offerings and sacrifices at another's expence. The least I can do is, to make such an acknowledgment, and in such a manner, as will best evidence my sense of the obligation, and the honour that is due to my Almighty Deliverer.

Those who look beyond the letter and the outward history, will readily discern the state of David's mind. They will readily discern this outward action of his, though adapted to the outward dispensation under which he lived, to be highly expressive of that great and fundamental principle, which every dispensation of Truth, from the fall of man down to this very day, hath strongly inculcated, viz. that true religion is an inward life, that cannot rest in external appearances, but manifests itself in an absolute unlimited surrender of the whole man to his Creator. This can never be accomplished without considerable cost and expence on the part of the creature, inasmuch as his will and affections must first be drawn off from all that variety of imaginations, desires and enjoyments, to which his fallen nature strongly allures, and deeply enslaves him.

Hence it is, that our BLESSED LORD makes the very first duty of discipleship to consist in "denying ourselves, taking up our cross, and following him:" that is to say, in bearing, with meekness, the necessary evils of our fallen life, resisting and overcoming its sinful suggestions, and humbly waiting for and co-operating with his Spirit revealed in our hearts.

This is the spiritual warfare, the struggle betwixt the "law in the members," and the "law of the mind;" the fighting "not only against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers," in which we are all summoned to engage. The whole burnt-offering and sacrifice, the whole price which this must cost us, is nothing less than the turning our wills, with the whole tide of our affections, from the evil to the good principle within us. And that GOD through CHRIST hath given us ability to do this, will appear from the following considerations:

The will of man, as coming forth from the Eternal Will of GOD, must be eternally and essentially free. The will of the fallen angels in hell, was as free as that of the highest archangel now in heaven:

Freely they stood, who stood; and fell, who fell.

The whole difference betwixt them consists in this, that the will of those who fell, is freely turned to evil; the will of those who stood, is freely turned to GOD and Goodness.

Man stands in an intermediate state, betwixt light and darkness, betwixt life and death, betwixt heaven and hell. The whole tenor of Scripture, from beginning to end, represents him in this critical situation; represents his Heavenly Father, as calling to him and inviting him to "eschew evil, and to do good;" to "love light rather than darkness;" to "come to him, that he may have life." All which certainly implies, that GOD, by his Grace, hath given him a power of choosing, and has made his salvation or destruction to proceed from himself, and not from any predetermining divine decree.

JESUS CHRIST is always spoken of, as a freely given Saviour; but salvation, as "a treasure to be purchased, as a race to be run, as a battle to be fought, as a work to be accomplished, even with fear and trembling." The power or capacity of being saved, the whole merit of salvation, comes from CHRIST; the using of this power, the availing ourselves of this merit, from ourselves. "Why WILL YE die, O house of Israel? TURN YOURSELVES, and live ye. Ye WILL NOT come to me, that ye might have life. How often would I have gathered you, as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye WOULD NOT!"

Upon this principle of forsaking sin, and turning our will to Goodness, are founded all those Gospel precepts, which speak of "crucifying the flesh with its affections and lusts, destroying the old man, dying to sin, suffering with CHRIST, cutting off a right hand, plucking out a right eye, passing through much tribulation;" all which plainly shews, that True Religion is a perpetual sacrifice; and that this sacrifice cannot be "offered to the LORD our GOD, of that which doth cost us nothing;" that the price will be far more, than "fifty shekels of silver," the purchase of Araunah's threshing-floor and implements; yea, that it will be no less than the "whole body of sin," which we carry about us, with all its affections and lusts; which we must, with meekness and humility, surrender to our BLESSED REDEEMER, to be burnt up and consumed upon the fire of his altar.

Having thus endeavoured to establish this fundamental principle, that "true religion is a costly and a perpetual sacrifice;" let us now, to prevent any dangerous deception, turn our eyes to those false appearances of it, which we frequently meet with in the world, which are very easily assumed, and which cost nothing.

The man of moral honesty first steps forth, and puts in his claim to the character of religious. He looks upon any Revelation from Heaven to be quite unnecessary; and, with all the forwardness and presumption of his own blind reason, pronounces those books, which Christians believe to be of Divine Authority, to be idle and chimerical. His religion, he will tell you, is, "to do as he would be done by." Poor man! it were well, if he even practised this golden rule; it might lead him to something further: for, by endeavouring to fulfil this, he might be brought to a view and feeling of his own natural inability; of the evil tempers and passions of his soul, which, in innumerable instances, hurry him on to do to others, what he would, by no means, have them to do to him. His religion, therefore, is properly visionary. Every thing to him is just and right, that comes within those bounds of honesty, which have been fixed by the laws of the land. A right life is not, with him, a right principle in the heart; but only a set of outward actions, that in the eyes of the world give him the character of an honest man.

The religion of such a person "costs him nothing." He has nothing to sacrifice, but much to gain by the practice of it; at least, much of worldly happiness; for he can have no idea of any other. Being wholly destitute of all sensibility with respect to the evil of his fallen life, he is not in the least desirous of purchasing a better, at the price it will cost. Before he can form any conception of the necessity of religion, as a real inward change and renewal of heart, he must first be made sensible of his present error and misery: "for they that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick."

Next comes the nominal Christian, who hath been baptized, and professes to believe the great truths of the Gospel, and joins with some publick assembly of Christians in outward worship. Surely his claim to the religious character, hath a better foundation than the preceding one: he purchases it at an higher price; it costs him more to support it. He neglects no outward duty, either moral or instituted; you never miss him at church, or at the sacrament: he hath been strictly educated from his infancy; he is sober, virtuous, kind, and charitable. In a word, he appears to be, what it were to be wished every man in the world really was. Thus far he is undoubtedly right: a strict observance of all the outward duties of religion, a minute attention to things in themselves indifferent, and a prudent abstaining from every appearance of evil, are doubtless incumbent, even upon those who have made the greatest progress in the Divine Life.

Let us, however, remember, that this outward strictness will avail little, without a conformity of our inward man to the temper and disposition of CHRIST; without being "born again," and commencing a new life, even a life of Heaven upon earth. The nominal Christian is a stranger to this blessed process. Talk to him of the necessity of regeneration, of doing all that he does from a principle of Divine Love, and with a view to God's glory, and not to any self-satisfaction, and he will not understand you. His round of duties seems to be the God whom he worships; at least, he makes them the _opus operatum_. He is never tormented with spiritual doubts and temptations; he knows nothing of the severe conflicts which real Christians sustain, and the dreadful pangs they must suffer, before their purification is accomplished; before they can "bow their heads," with the great Captain of their Salvation, and say with him, "It is finished." He is willing to go to Heaven by an easier and less thorny path, and to purchase glory at a cheaper rate.

The last I shall mention, but the most specious appearances of religion, are those which are exhibited by the pharisaical professors of Christianity. And here I would willingly throw a veil over those follies and extravagancies, to which false enthusiasm frequently gives the name of spiritual exercises and experiences. But my duty calls upon me to put you on your guard against these delusive appearances; as I cannot but think, that spiritual pride, or an over-weening conceit and forward exhibition of our own fancied spiritual attainments, is the most fatal rock, upon which the Christian can make "shipwreck of his faith."

In an age, wherein every appearance of religion ought to be encouraged and promoted, it is melancholy to think, that we should be under a necessity of speaking even against some appearances. But that you may form a right notion of what I mean by a pharisaical profession of religion, I will endeavour to draw the character of a modern Pharisee.

In the first place, he is one, who talks much in a religious strain, but takes care to make himself the chief subject of conversation. His own illuminations and experiences, his conviction and conversion, with all the particular circumstances attending them, he never fails to communicate, without distinction, to all those who will give him an hearing; and to communicate in such a manner, as to let them know, that he considers his own experiences as the infallible standard by which he measures the experiences of others.

In the next place, you will generally find him insisting upon points of controversy, rather than those of practice; urging your assent to such and such articles of his faith, calling upon you to apply for instruction to some favourite Rabbi of his own sect, or some favourite system which himself has adopted, instead of sending you immediately to him, who is the Fountain of all Wisdom, and "who giveth it liberally" to those that ask it of him.

You will find him careful to "pay tithes of mint, and annise, and cummin;" to go to what he calls a gospel-sermon, though he should neglect the necessary duties of his occupation; and to spend hours in talking about religion, whilst he passes by "the weightier matters of the law, judgment, and mercy, and faith." Tell him of the necessity "of dying daily to sin, of suffering with CHRIST, of mortifying the flesh, denying himself, cutting off a right hand, &c." he will answer you, that his peace is made, that his sins are pardoned, that he has a full assurance of everlasting life. Tell him of the necessity of being "born again," of having the righteous nature, temper, and disposition of the HOLY JESUS in his heart; he will reply, that he knows of no righteousness but that of CHRIST imputed, and that his Saviour's personal obedience is accepted by GOD instead of his own; and though he may not go so far as to deny the great doctrine of sanctification, but will even allow and insist upon it, yet it is such sanctification, as will turn to very little account. For, who that looks upon his work as already done, will chuse to labour any longer? Who that believes his sins to be already pardoned, will think it necessary to implore the forgiveness of God, or to obtain the healing influences of the Spirit of Grace?

In a word, if we may judge from his conversation, he thinks himself perfect--if we may judge from his actions, he is indeed very far from it. He shews the utmost bitterness against every one that happens to dissent from his opinion; and looks upon all those as carnal and unregenerate, who do not walk in his footsteps. Meekness, humility, benevolence and charity, the most characteristical graces of the true disciples of JESUS, are not to be found in any part of his conduct. His life, therefore, is not in CHRIST, but in a set of doctrines and opinions, supported by a "zeal that is not according to knowledge." Till he is taught to see his own pride and presumption; till he discovers, and strives to eradicate, the selfish principle that lurks at the centre of his heart; he cannot be said to offer any other sacrifices to GOD, than such as "cost him nothing."

To conclude: Having seen what those real sacrifices of religion are, which will be acceptable to GOD, and in how many instances men deceive themselves, and others, by false appearances; let us determine to judge of our acquaintance with and progress in True Religion, not merely by outward observances, nor yet by any transient fits or lively and pleasant frames of devotion; but rather by the discovery which GOD is pleased to make to us of our weakness and misery, by our sincere desire of being united to CHRIST, and in heart and spirit assimilated to his nature. Thus having followed a Suffering Master, "travelling in the greatness of his strength," through the ensanguined paths of a spiritual warfare, we shall at length "come forth out of great tribulation;" and, having "washed our robes in the Blood of the Lamb," shall be partakers of his triumphs; and receive the accomplishment of his great and glorious promise: "To him that overcometh, will I grant to sit with me in my throne; even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne."

DISCOURSE VI.
Truth, the only Friend of Man.

GALATIANS, CHAP. iv. VER. 16.

"AM I THEREFORE BECOME YOUR ENEMY, BECAUSE I TELL YOU THE TRUTH?"

Men are generally too apt to consider religion as unfriendly to their happiness, and incapable of yielding them any satisfactions, equal to those which they derive from the pursuit of worldly objects. Hence, the aversion to exercises of piety, and the society and conversation of the good and virtuous. Hence, the listlessness and unconcern about the state of their souls, whilst the whole attention of their minds, their thoughts, their desires and affections, their hands and their hearts, are all busily and constantly employed, in making provision for the support, ornament, and gratification, of a perishing body. Surely, such a strange conduct as this, must proceed from a secret persuasion, that religion will interrupt their pursuit of some present favourite objects, and damp and deaden all the sprightliness of enjoyment. Were they, indeed, charged with holding such principles as these, they would doubtless take it exceedingly amiss; and look upon that man as their enemy, who should presume thus to arraign their conduct, and ascribe it to motives, which they would blush to own.

The tender and affectionate expostulation in my text, is evidently founded upon an intimate knowledge of human nature. The sagacious Apostle readily discovered the secret workings of pride and disgust, in the hearts of his Galatian converts. After having expressed his astonishment, that "they were so soon removed from him, that called them into the Grace of CHRIST, unto another Gospel;" after having charged them with folly, for suffering themselves to be "bewitched," as he expresses it, by the artifices of deceivers; after having declared his fears and apprehensions lest he should have bestowed upon them labour in vain; and, after having enumerated some former testimonies of their reciprocal regard and affection for each other; he, at length, addresses himself to their consciences, and solemnly calls upon them to declare, whether they could, with the least justice or propriety, change their former sentiments of him, or deem him unfriendly to their best interests, "because he told them the Truth;" because, by his Christian and apostolical reprehensions, he sought to rescue them from the dominion of passion and prejudice: "Am I therefore become your enemy, because I tell you the Truth?"

One would think, that such well-meant remonstrances, from the ministers of Truth and friends of Virtue, would be kindly received, and have a salutary influence upon the hearts of sinners; but experience, alas! tells us the contrary. There have been many instances, and some, perhaps, within our own personal knowledge, in which resentment, rather than gratitude, hath been awakened by such expostulations; and where, instead of humbling the spirit, they have produced a reply that bore the marks of passion, checked and disappointed in its favourite pursuits.

Considered with respect to the real state of his soul, every man, who lives under the dominion of any evil passion, or suffers himself to be drawn aside from the paths of virtue by the delusive arts of vice, is doubtless in a situation similar to that of these Galatians. For though his passions and prejudices may not be exactly the same, yet they proceed from the same source, and enmity to GOD and Goodness is at the bottom.

But, blessed be GOD! there are no Galatians without an Apostle; no sinner without an higher messenger of GOD than St. Paul; a greater witness, and more awful reprover of his evil ways; a friend that speaks to him at all times and seasons, in the hurry of the day, and the silence of the night, amidst the anxiety of expectation, and the ardour of possession; vigorously remonstrating against every sinful suggestion, and sharply censuring and reproving the mind for every sinful act.

The fallen spirit of man, it is true, brooks not the frequent appearance of this Heavenly Messenger; but, as the Apostle says of the Galatians, treats him as an enemy, and replies to all his friendly remonstrances and affectionate warnings, with indignation and disdain.

"Go thy way for this time," was the language of voluptuous greatness to the same blessed Apostle. "Go thy way for this time," is still the language of every unconverted heart, when it is checked or interrupted in its vicious and lawless pursuits, by the voice of this Inward Monitor--why art thou perpetually intruding upon my hours of business, pleasure, or repose, and teizing and disquieting me with thine ill-timed admonitions or rebukes?

Who amongst us, let me ask, hath not, in innumerable instances, given such a rash and impatient answer to the Servant of GOD within us? When some darling passion hath importunately solicited for immediate indulgence; some pretty fantastical object presented itself to our desires; some impetuous call of pride, envy, covetuousness, or resentment, demanded an immediate answer; have we not, though we were, at the very instant, warned against the artifice and delusion, by this constant and inseparable Friend, have we not petulantly rejected his counsel, bid him "away for that time" at least, and treated him with more contempt than we would dare to shew to an earthly enemy?

His meekness, however, is not discomposed by our rising wrath; his fortitude is not daunted by our repeated insults; his persevering love is not in the least abated by the stubbornness and obduracy of our hearts. He still keeps close to our side, accompanies us whithersoever we go, and, "whether we will hear, or whether we will forbear," ceases not, at one time, to whisper to us in the soft language of heavenly instruction; and, at another, to thunder in our ears the most alarming reproofs and menaces.

But who is this Apostle, this Messenger of GOD, this Inward Witness and Monitor, whom deluded mortals are so apt to consider as an enemy to their peace?--Hear, O sinner, and let thy face be covered with confusion! let thine hard heart break with deep compunction for its past obduracy, whilst thou art told, that this enemy, as thou hast hitherto deemed and treated him, is no other than the ETERNAL SPIRIT OF THY GOD AND THY REDEEMER, who, by continually opposing the language of truth to the suggestions of error, hath been endeavouring to emancipate thy soul from its grievous bondage, and to bring it forth into light and liberty.

Thou hast mistaken death for life, misery for happiness, time for eternity! Thy will and affections have been fixed upon objects of unreal bliss; turned from thy GOD, the true and only source of Goodness and Happiness, and working evil in the element of sin and darkness! Spirits thus employed, must mingle with congenial spirits: there is "no communion of CHRIST with Belial;" no fellowship or likeness betwixt thy spirit in such a state as this, and the Spirit of thy REDEEMER. He appears, and cannot but appear to thee, as thine enemy, because the truth he tells thee militates against thy darling lusts, and shews thee those dark destructive purposes, which, because thou canst hide them from others, thou wishest also to hide from thyself.

But this seeming enemy is, indeed, thy real friend. He is only pursuing thee with his internal counsels and reproofs, that he may snatch thee out of the hands of the destroyer; that he may call thee out of thy present "darkness, into his own marvellous light." When thou hast experienced this blessed change, reconciliation will soon take place; an union of spirits will commence betwixt thy SAVIOUR and thee; and thou wilt gradually grow into his Image and Likeness, till thou art made perfect in his Love.

Believe me, my brethren, till this great change hath passed upon our souls, till we begin to feel, and admire, and love the communications of this Inward Friend and Comforter, we must be strangers to true peace of mind, and totally ignorant of the proper enjoyment of ourselves, and the proper use of the world in which we now sojourn.

In our natural state, all is darkness, disorder, and disquietude. We see every thing through a false medium. We are under a spiritual delirium. Our heavenly physician is endeavouring, by the methods I have just mentioned, to restore our health of mind, to open our spiritual senses, to give us a clear and distinct view of "the things that belong to our peace." We must, therefore, co-operate with his "labours of love." Even the severity of his applications proves him to be our friend; for he knows that, without them, we can never come to a "right mind." Let us, then, recollect, how often these applications have been made; how often, through inattention and neglect, they have failed of success; how often we have slighted his counsels, despised his prescriptions, and cast his medicines from us. But let us also remember, that there is a time at hand, when, light as we may think of such a blessing now, we shall most ardently long for his support and consolation. When languishing with sickness, and oppressed with pain, it is he alone who can soften our pillow, and supply us with inward strength; when tottering with age, and bowed down with infirmities, it is he alone who can be our rod and staff; and when the lamp of life is so near expiring, that we can scarcely see our passage to the verge of time, it is he alone that can light up the Lamp of GOD in our hearts, and conduct us through the dark valley of the shadow of death, to the bright confines of a celestial world.

In a word, if the enmity is not destroyed in our souls in this life, we must necessarily carry it with us into the next. And to those who die under the dominion of a fallen life and sinful nature, "our God must be a consuming fire."

Let us lay these things seriously to heart. Let us earnestly seek Reconciliation with GOD THROUGH CHRIST, and endeavour to perfect ourselves in the great work of Peace and Love, "whilst it is day; because the night cometh, when no man can work."

DISCOURSE VII.
The Strength and Victory of Faith.

1 JOHN, CHAP. v. VER. 4.

"WHATSOEVER IS BORN OF GOD, OVERCOMETH THE WORLD; AND THIS IS THE
VICTORY THAT OVERCOMETH THE WORLD, EVEN OUR FAITH."

All the doctrines of our most Holy Religion conspire to inform us, that the supreme happiness of man is not to be attained without unnumbered labours and conflicts; and all its precepts are calculated to inforce a perpetual activity, and unwearied perseverance, in the "pursuit of the things that belong to our peace."

"The Devil, the world, and the flesh," are the great adversaries, who are continually plotting our ruin. The flesh, by which is meant that corrupt nature which we bring with us into the world, is ever harrassing us with its impure suggestions: "the Devil walks about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour:" and the world, by which we are to understand that fallen state of things, in which we at present dwell, never fails of opposing our progress toward Heaven, with its specious, but delusive scenes of happiness. Against the united efforts of such formidable enemies, where shall we find armour of sufficient proof? In a conflict so long and arduous, where shall we meet with such supplies of strength, as will enable us to contend and finally to overcome? The power of contending, and the means of obtaining the victory, are clearly pointed out by the Apostle in my text. "Whatsoever is born of GOD, overcometh the world: and this is the Victory that overcometh the world, even our Faith."

From these words it appears, that those who engage in this heavenly warfare, are persons of the highest dignity, and most illustrious birth: they are the offspring of him whose "kingdom is not of this world;" they are "heirs of GOD, and joint-heirs with JESUS CHRIST;" they are "born, not of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of GOD."

To be "born of GOD," is to rise out of the ruins of a fallen nature into the glory of a redeemed one. It is to die to Adam, and to live to CHRIST; it is to see, and feel, and to forsake our own weakness and vanity and sin, and adhere to the strength and sufficiency and righteousness of CHRIST. The first great work of the SPIRIT OF TRUTH, as our LORD assures us, is to "convince the world of sin." The foundation of that spiritual edifice which Heaven erects in the souls of men, must be laid in humility: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven!" He that is "born of GOD," lives and acts in direct opposition to him who is "born of the flesh:" meekness and love are the prevailing dispositions of the former; pride and selfishness the ruling tempers of the latter. A discerning mind, spiritually enlightened, and viewing mankind as they really are, and not through the false medium of worldly philosophy, will readily discover the manifest contrariety with which their characters are marked by these two principles. Look round you, my brethren; look into your own hearts; judge for yourselves: your own experience of what is continually passing within and about you, will afford you ample demonstration of these great truths.

Wherever we discover in ourselves, or in others, the corrupt passions of pride, envy, ill-nature, avarice, anger, jealousy, malice, prevailing, there we may be as certain of the marks of unregenerate nature, as we are of a disorder in the elements, when we see the heavens overcast with clouds, and thunders and lightnings issuing from every quarter of the sky. On the other hand, where meekness and gentleness, self-abasement, a forgetfulness of our own interest, and a chearful attention to the happiness of others, an heart-felt sympathy in their joys and sorrows, an universal love of GOD and man, testified by a life of uninterrupted piety and charity; wherever we find these amiable graces and virtues, there are the sure marks of Regeneration; there is the true disciple of JESUS, "born of GOD, and overcoming the world."

The state of such a soul, with respect to its GOD, may be expressed in words to this effect: "LORD, what is man, that thou hast such respect unto him; or the Son of man, that thou visitest him?" "Behold, LORD, I am less than the least of all thy mercies!" And yet thou hast had respect even unto me; and yet thou hast visited even me, with the greatest of thy mercies! Thou hast caused thy light to shine into the darkness of my nature; thou hast laid open every secret recess of my heart, and shewn me those roots of evil, from whence the innumerable sins of my past life have sprung forth, and diffused their venom throughout my whole frame. Yea, thou hast not only discovered to me the depth and malignity of sin, but, with thy Light, thou hast also imparted thy Life to my soul; thou hast supplied me with strength from above; thou hast furnished me with armour of heavenly proof to encounter the enemies of my peace. Thou hast taught me to despair of my own strength, and to trust in thine arm alone for salvation; thou hast taught me to despise my own righteousness, and to seek thy righteousness in CHRIST JESUS. Though the world should present to me her most alluring charms; though she should give, to her visionary forms, the fairest features that fancy's pencil can delineate; though she should court me to accept her proffered pleasures, in all that false tenderness of language, which artful vice so frequently assumes; yet, armed with thy celestial panoply, I shall be enabled to contend with the enchantress, and overcome her magic power; I shall nobly triumph over all her devices, assert the dignity of my heavenly birth, and preserve my heart unspotted from her impurities. For sure I am; that whilst united in spirit with thee, my GOD and SAVIOUR, I breathe the air of Heaven, I feed upon the bread of angels; the strength of Omnipotence is exerted amid the weakness of nature, and I shall go on, under thine auspicious guidance, "conquering and to conquer."

Such is the state of the virtuous and regenerated Christian, with respect to his GOD. With respect to man, his conduct flows from the same Divine and lovely principle. He deems every spiritual blessing, by which he may be distinguished from the rest of his brethren, as the gift of GOD, to be accepted and enjoyed, not with an haughty, but an humble mind. He does not, therefore, stand aloof from them, as if he was holier than they. He cannot, indeed, but shrink from their vices, and, by a prudent distance of behaviour, shew himself averse to, and even offended with their levities. But he pities their blindness, and compassionates the obduracy of their hearts. He is ever ready to exert himself for the real service of wicked, as well as of good men; knowing, that his "heavenly Father sendeth his rain, and causeth his sun to shine, upon the unjust no less than the just."

If he is blessed with worldly affluence, he cheerfully administers to the temporal necessities of his indigent neighbours. If he is poor, and can give them no earthly aid, he will do all he can--he will pray for them, and beg his GOD to shower down upon them his temporal, as well as spiritual comforts. He suffers no ill conduct on their part to excite his indignation, or make him forget that they are his brethren, to be redeemed by that precious blood, whose salutary influences he has himself experienced. He envies none their fortunes, honours, and accomplishments; neither does he repine, because he is not so rich, or learned, or polite, or advanced to such an exalted rank in life, as others are. He endeavours to be dead alike to the censure and applause of beings, mortal and fallible as himself; inasmuch as he is convinced, that their good or ill opinion cannot make the least alteration in the real state of his soul: he is, therefore, guilty of no mean compliances, or time-serving practices, to obtain the one, or to avoid the other. He gives "honour to whom honour is due." He endeavours to "owe no man any thing, but love:" he is, therefore, careful, not only to pay every just debt, but to avoid embarking in any worldly schemes or prospects of advancing his own interest, to the injury of others. In a word, by piety to GOD, justice and charity to his neighbour, and chastity and temperance in his own person, he seeks to maintain "a conscience void of offence towards GOD, and towards man;" to fill the station in which he is placed, and support the character in which he appears, in such a manner, as will do honour to the Religion of his Master.