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           Title: Sermons on Gospel Themes
      Creator(s): Finney, Charles G. (1792-1875)
          Rights: Public Domain
   CCEL Subjects: All; Sermons; Theology;
      LC Call no: BX7233.F45 S4
   LC Subjects:

   Christian Denominations

   Protestantism

   Post-Reformation

   Other Protestant denominations

   Congregationalism
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                           SERMONS ON GOSPEL THEMES

  By

                               CHARLES G. FINNEY

   Author of “Lectures on Revivals of Religion,”

   “Lectures to Professing Christians,” etc.

   1876
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PREFACE

   These sermons were preached by Pres. Finney at Oberlin during the years
   1845-1861, and reported from his lips by myself. In taking these reports I
   aimed to give the heads of the sermons and all the important statements
   verbatim, to retain always the substance of thought, and especially to seize
   upon the illustrations and present their essential points. Taken down in a
   species of short-hand, they were subsequently written out, and in every case
   read to Pres. Finney in his study for any corrections he might desire, and
   for his endorsement. Consequently these reports present truthfully the great
   doctrines preached, and in good measure it is believed the method and manner
   of his preaching.

   Few preachers in any age have surpassed Pres. Finney in clear and
   well-defined views of conscience, and of man’s moral convictions; few have
   been more fully at home in the domain of law and government; few have
   learned more of the spiritual life from experience and from observation; not
   many have discriminated the true from the false more closely, or have been
   more skillful in putting their points clearly and pungently. Hence, these
   sermons under God were full of spiritual power. They are given to the public
   in this form, in the hope that at least a measure of the same wholesome
   saving power may never fail to bless the reader.

   HENRY COWLES.
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                       I. GOD’S LOVE FOR A SINNING WORLD
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   “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that
   whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting
   life.”-John 3:16

   Sin is the most expensive thing in the universe. Nothing else can cost so
   much. Pardoned or unpardoned, its cost is infinitely great. Pardoned, the
   cost falls chiefly on the great atoning Substitute; unpardoned, it must fall
   on the head of the guilty sinner.

   The existence of sin is a fact everywhere experienced—everywhere observed.
   There is sin in our race everywhere and in awful aggravation.

   Sin is the violation of an infinitely important law—a law designed and
   adapted to secure the highest good of the universe. Obedience to this law is
   naturally essential to the good of creatures. Without obedience there could
   be no blessedness even in heaven.

   As sin is a violation of a most important law, it cannot be treated lightly.
   No government can afford to treat disobedience as a trifle, inasmuch as
   everything—the entire welfare of the government and of all the
   governed—turns upon obedience. Just in proportion to the value of the
   interests at stake is the necessity of guarding law and of punishing
   disobedience.

   The law of God must not be dishonoured by anything He shall do. It has been
   dishonoured by the disobedience of man; hence, the more need that God should
   stand by it, to retrieve its honour. The utmost dishonour is done to law by
   disowning, disobeying, and despising it, All this, sinning man has done.
   Hence, this law being not only good, but intrinsically necessary to the
   happiness of the governed, it becomes of all things most necessary that the
   law-giver should vindicate his law. He must by all means do it.

   Hence, sin has involved God’s government in a vast expense. Either the law
   must be executed at the expense of the wellbeing of the whole race, or God
   must submit to suffer the worst results of disrespect to His law—results
   which in some form must involve a vast expense.

   Take for example any human government. Suppose the righteous and necessary
   laws which it imposes are disowned and dishonoured. In such a case the
   violated law must be honoured by the execution of its penalty, or something
   else not less expensive, and probably much more so, must be endured.
   Transgression must cost happiness, somewhere, and in vast amount.

   In the case of God’s government it has been deemed advisable to provide a
   substitute—one that should answer the purpose of saving the sinner, and yet
   of honouring the law. This being determined on, the next great question
   was—How shall the expense be met?

   The Bible informs us how the question was in fact decided. By a voluntary
   conscription—shall I call it—or donation? Call it as we may, it was a
   voluntary offering. Who shall head the subscription? Who shall begin where
   so much is to be raised? Who will make the first sacrifice? Who will take
   the first step in a project so vast? The Bible informs us. It began with the
   Infinite Father. He made the first great donation. He gave His only begotten
   Son—this to begin with—and having given Him first, He freely gives all else
   that the exigencies of the case can require. First, He gave His Son to make
   the atonement due to law; then gave and sent His Holy Spirit to take charge
   of this work. The Son on His part consented to stand as the representative,
   of sinners, that, He might honour the law, by suffering in their stead. He
   poured out His blood, made a whole life of suffering a free donation on the
   altar—withheld not His face from spitting, nor His back from stripes—shrunk
   not from the utmost contumely that wicked men could heap on Him. So the Holy
   Ghost also devotes Himself to most self-denying efforts unceasingly, to
   accomplish the great object.

   It would have been a very short method to have turned over His hand upon the
   wicked of our race, and sent them all down quick to hell, as once He did
   when certain angels “kept not their first estate.” Rebellion broke out in
   heaven. Not long did God bear it, around His lofty throne. But in the case
   of man He changed His course—did not send them all to hell, but devised a
   vast scheme of measures, involving most amazing self-denials and
   self-sacrifices, to gain men’s souls back to obedience and heaven.

   For whom was this great donation made? “God so loved the World,” meaning the
   whole race of men. By the “world in this connection cannot be meant any
   particular part only, but the whole race. Not only the Bible, but the nature
   of the case, shows that the atonement must have been made for the whole
   world. For plainly if it had not been made for the entire race, no man of
   the race could ever know that it was made for himself, and therefore not a
   man could believe on Christ in the sense of receiving by faith the blessings
   of the atonement. There being an utter uncertainty as to the persons
   embraced in the limited provisions which we now suppose to be made, the
   entire donation must fail through the impossibility of rational faith for
   its reception. Suppose a will is made by a rich man bequeathing certain
   property to certain unknown persons, described only by the name of “the
   elect.” They are not described otherwise than by this term, and all agree
   that although the maker of the will had the individuals definitely in his
   mind, yet that he left no description of them, which either the persons
   themselves, the courts, nor any living mortal can understand. Now such a
   will is of necessity altogether null and void. No living man can claim under
   such a will, and none the better though these elect were described as
   residents of Oberlin. Since it does not embrace all the residents of
   Oberlin, and does not define which of them, all is lost. All having an equal
   claim and none any definite claim, none can inherit. If the atonement were
   made in this way, no living man would have any valid reason for believing
   himself one of the elect, prior to his reception of the Gospel. Hence he
   would have no authority to believe and receive its blessings by faith. In
   fact, the atonement must be wholly void—on this supposition—unless a special
   revelation is made to the persons for whom it is intended.

   As the case is, however, the very fact that a man belongs to the race of
   Adam—the fact that he is human, born of woman, is all-sufficient. It brings
   him within the pale. He is one of the world for whom God gave His Son, that
   whosoever would believe in Him might not perish, but have everlasting life.

   The subjective motive in the mind of God for this great gift was love, love
   to the world. God so loved the world that He gave His Son to die for it. God
   loved the universe also but this gift of His Son sprang from love to our
   world. True in this great act He took pains to provide for the interests of
   the universe. He was careful to do nothing that could in the least let down
   the sacredness of His law. Most carefully did He intend to guard against
   misapprehension as to His regard for His law and for the high interests of
   obedience and happiness in his moral universe. He meant once for all to
   preclude the danger lest any moral agent should be tempted to undervalue the
   moral law.

   Yet farther, it was not only from love to souls, but from respect to the
   spirit of the law of His own eternal reason, that He gave up His Son to die.
   In this the purpose to give up His Son originated. The law of His own reason
   must be honoured and held sacred. He may do nothing inconsistent with its
   spirit. He must do everything possible to prevent the commission of sin and
   to secure the confidence and love of His subjects. So sacred did He hold
   these great objects that He would baptize His Son in His own blood, sooner
   than peril the good of the universe. Beyond a question it was love and
   regard for the highest good of the universe that led Him to sacrifice His
   own beloved Son.

   Let us next consider attentively the nature of this love. The text lays
   special stress on this—God so loved—His love was of such a nature, so
   wonderful and so peculiar in its character, that it led Him to give up His
   only Son to die. More is evidently implied in this expression than simply
   its greatness. It is most peculiar in its character. Unless we understand
   this, we shall be in danger of falling into the strange mistake of the
   Universalists, who are forever talking about God’s love for sinners, but
   whose notions of the nature of this love never lead to repentance or to
   holiness. They seem to think of this love as simply good nature, and
   conceive of God only as a very good-natured being, whom nobody need to fear.
   Such notions have not the least influence towards holiness, but the very
   opposite. It is only when we come to understand what this love is in its
   nature that we feel its moral power promoting holiness.

   It may be reasonably asked, If God so loved the world with a love
   characterized by greatness, and by greatness only, why did He not save all
   the world without sacrificing His Son? This question suffices to show us
   that there is deep meaning in this word so, and should put us upon a careful
   study of this meaning.

   1. This love in its nature is not complacency—a delight in the character of
   the race. This could not be, for there was nothing amiable in their
   character. For God to have loved such a race complacently would have been
   infinitely disgraceful to Himself.

   2. It was not a mere emotion or feeling. It was not a blind impulse, though
   many seem to suppose it was. It seems to be often supposed that God acted as
   men do when they are borne away by strong emotion. But there could be no
   virtue in this. A man might give away all he is worth under such a blind
   impulse of feeling, and be none the more virtuous. But in saying this we do
   not exclude all emotion from the love of benevolence, nor from God’s love
   for a lost world. He had emotion, but not emotion only. Indeed, the Bible
   everywhere teaches us that God’s love for man, lost in his sins, was
   paternal—the love of a father for his offspring—in this case, for a
   rebellious, froward, prodigal offspring. In this love there must of course
   blend the deepest compassion.

   3. On the part of Christ, considered as Mediator, this love was fraternal.
   ”He is not ashamed to call them brethren.” In one point of view, He is
   acting for brethren, and in another for children. The Father gave Him up for
   this work and of course sympathizes in the love appropriate to its
   relations.

   4. This love must be altogether disinterested, for He had nothing to hope or
   to fear—no profit to make out of His children if they should be saved.
   Indeed, it is impossible to conceive of God as being selfish, since His love
   embraces all creatures and all interests according to their real value. No
   doubt He took delight in saving our race—why should He not? It is a great
   salvation in every sense, and greatly does it swell the bliss of
   heaven—greatly will it affect the glory and the blessedness of the Infinite
   God. He will eternally respect Himself for love so disinterested. He knows
   also that all His Holy creatures will eternally respect Him for this work
   and for the love that gave it birth. But let it also be said, He knew they
   would not respect Him for this great work unless they should see that He did
   it for the good of sinners.

   5. This love was zealous—not that cold-hearted state of mind which some
   suppose—not an abstraction, but a love deep, zealous, earnest, burning in
   his soul as a fire that nothing can quench.

   6. The sacrifice was a most self-denying one. Did it cost the Father nothing
   to give up His own beloved Son to suffer, and to die such a death? If this
   be not self-denial, what can be? Thus to give up His Son to so much
   suffering—is not this the noblest self-denial? The universe never could have
   the idea of great self-denial but for such an exemplification.

   7. This love was particular because it was universal; and also universal
   because it was particular. God loved each sinner in particular, and
   therefore loved all. Because He loved all impartially, with no respect of
   persons, therefore He loved each in particular.

   8. This was a most patient love. How rare to find a parent so loving his
   child as never to be impatient. Let me go round and ask, how many of you,
   parents, can say that you love all your children so well, and with so much
   love, and with love so wisely controlling, that you have never felt
   impatient towards any of them—so that you can take them in your arms under
   the greatest provocations and love them down, love them out of their sins,
   love them into repentance and into a filial spirit? Of which of your
   children can you say, Thank God, I never fretted against that child—of
   which, if you were to meet him in heaven, could you say, I never caused that
   child to fret? Often have I heard parents say, I love my children, but oh,
   how my patience fails me! And, after the dear ones are dead, you may hear
   their bitter moans, Oh, my soul, how could I have caused my child so much
   stumbling and so much sin!

   But God never frets—is never impatient. His love is so deep and so great
   that He is always patient.

   Sometimes, when parents have unfortunate children—poor objects of
   compassion—they can bear with anything from them; but when they are very
   wicked, they seem to feel that they are quite excusable for being impatient.
   In God’s case, these are not unfortunate children, but are intensely
   wicked—intelligently wicked. But oh, His amazing patience—so set upon their
   good, so desirous of their highest welfare, that however they abuse Him, He
   sets Himself to bless them still, and weep them down, and melt them into
   penitence and love, by the death of His Son in their stead!

   9. This is a jealous love, not in a bad sense, but in a good sense—in the
   sense of being exceedingly careful lest anything should occur to injure
   those He loves. Just as husband and wife who truly love each other are
   jealous with ever wakeful jealousy over each other’s welfare, seeking always
   to do all they can to promote each other’s true interests.

   This donation is already made—made in good faith—not only promised, but
   actually made. The promise, given long before, has been fulfilled. The Son
   has come, has died, has made the ransom and lives to offer it—a prepared
   salvation to all who will embrace it.

   The Son of God died not to appease vengeance, as some seem to understand it,
   but under the demands of law. The law had been dishonoured by its violation.
   Hence, Christ undertook to honour it by giving up to its demands His
   suffering life and atoning death. It was not to appease a vindictive spirit
   in God, but to secure the highest good of the universe in a dispensation of
   mercy.

   Since this atonement has been made, all men in the race have a right to it.
   It is open to every one who will embrace it. Though Jesus still remains the
   Father’s Son, yet by gracious right He belongs in an important sense to the
   race—to everyone; so that every sinner has an interest in His blood if he
   will only come humbly forward and claim it. God sent His Son to be the
   Saviour of the world—of whomsoever would believe and accept this great
   salvation.

   God gives His Spirit to apply this salvation to men. He comes to each man’s
   door and knocks, to gain admittance, if He can, and show each sinner that he
   may now have salvation. Oh, what a labour of love is this!

   This salvation must be received, if at all, by faith. This is the only
   possible way. God’s government over sinners is moral, not physical, because
   the sinner is himself a moral and not a physical agent. Therefore, God can
   influence us in no way unless we will give Him our confidence. He never can
   save us by merely taking us away to some place called heaven—as if change of
   place would change the voluntary heart. There can, therefore, be no possible
   way to be saved but by simple faith.

   ‘Now do not mistake and suppose that embracing the Gospel is simply to
   believe these historical facts without truly receiving Christ as your
   Saviour. If this had been the scheme, then Christ had need only to come down
   and die; then go back to heaven and quietly wait to see who would believe
   the facts. But how different is the real case! Now Christ comes down to fill
   the soul with His own life and love. Penitent sinners hear and believe the
   truth concerning Jesus, and then receive Christ into the soul to live and
   reign there supreme and for ever. On this point many mistake, saying, If I
   believe the facts as matters of history it is enough. No! No! This is not it
   by any means. “With the heart man believeth unto righteousness.” The
   atonement was indeed made to provide the way so that Jesus could come down
   to human hearts and draw them into union and sympathy with Himself—so that
   God could let down the arms of His love and embrace sinners—so that law and
   government should not be dishonoured by such tokens of friendship shown by
   God toward sinners. But the atonement will by no means save sinners only as
   it prepares the way for them to come into sympathy and fellowship of heart
   with God.

   Now Jesus comes to each sinner’s door and knocks. Hark! what’s that? what’s
   that? Why this knocking? Why did He not go away and stay in heaven if that
   were the system, till men should simply believe the historical facts and be
   baptized, as some suppose, for salvation. But now, see how He comes
   down—tells the sinner what He has done—reveals all His love—tells him how
   holy and sacred it is, so sacred that He can by no means act without
   reference to the holiness of His law and the purity of His government. Thus
   impressing on the heart the most deep and enlarged ideas of His holiness and
   purity, He enforces the need of deep repentance and the sacred duty of
   renouncing all sin.
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REMARKS

   1. The Bible teaches that sinners may forfeit their birthright and put
   themselves beyond the reach of mercy. It is not long since I made some
   remark to you on the manifest necessity that God should guard Himself
   against the abuses of His love. The circumstances are such as create the
   greatest danger of such abuse, and, therefore, He must make sinners know
   that they may not abuse His love, and cannot do it with impunity.

   2. Under the Gospel, sinners are in circumstances of the greatest possible
   responsibility. They are in the utmost danger of trampling down beneath
   their feet the very Son of God. Come, they say, let us kill Him and the
   inheritance shall be ours. When God sends forth, last of all, His own
   beloved Son, what do they do? Add to all their other sins and rebellions the
   highest insult to this glorious Son! Suppose something analogous to this
   were done under a human government. A case of rebellion occurs in some of
   the provinces. The king sends his own son, not with an army, to cut them
   down quick in their rebellion, but all gently, meekly, patiently, he goes
   among them, explaining the laws of the kingdom and exhorting them to
   obedience. What do they do in the case? With one consent they combine to
   seize him and put him to death!

   But you deny the application of this, and ask me, Who murdered the Son of
   God? Were they not Jews? Aye, and have you, sinners, had no part in this
   murder? Has not your treatment of Jesus Christ shown that you are most fully
   in sympathy with the ancient Jews in their murder of the Son of God? If you
   had been there, would any one have shouted louder than you, Away with
   Him—crucify Him, crucify Him? Have you not always said, Depart from us—for
   we desire not the knowledge of Thy ways?

   3. It was said of Christ that, Though rich He became poor that we through
   His poverty might be rich. How strikingly true is this? Our redemption cost
   Christ His life; it found Him rich, but made Him poor; it found us
   infinitely poor, but made us rich even to all the wealth of heaven. But of
   these riches none can partake till they shall each for himself accept them
   in the legitimate way. They must be received on the terms proposed, or the
   offer passes utterly away, and you are left poorer even than if no such
   treasures had ever been laid at your feet.

   Many persons seem entirely to misconceive this case. They seem not to
   believe what God says, but keep saying, If, if, if there only were any
   salvation for me—if there were only an atonement provided for the pardon of
   my sins. This was one of the last things that was cleared up in my mind
   before I fully committed my soul to trust God. I had been studying the
   atonement; I saw its philosophical bearings—saw what it demanded of the
   sinner; but it irritated me, and I said—If I should become a Christian, how
   could I know what God would do with me? Under this irritation I said foolish
   and bitter things against Christ—till my own soul was horrified at its own
   wickedness, and I said—I will make all this up with Christ if the thing is
   possible.

   In this way many advance upon the encouragements of the Gospel as if it were
   only a peradventure, an experiment. They take each forward step most
   carefully, with fear and trembling, as if there were the utmost doubt
   whether there could be any mercy for them. So with myself. I was on my way
   to my office, when the question came before my mind—What are you waiting
   for? You need not get up such an ado. All is done already. You have only to
   consent to the proposition—give your heart right up to it at once—this is
   all. Just so it is. All Christians and sinners ought to understand that the
   whole plan is complete—that the whole of Christ—His character, His work, His
   atoning death, and His ever-living intercession—belong to each and every
   man, and need only to be accepted. There is a full ocean of it. There it is.
   You may just as well take it as not. It is as if you stood on the shore of
   an ocean of soft, pure water, famishing with thirst; you are welcome to
   drink, and you need not fear lest you exhaust that ocean, or starve anybody
   else by drinking yourself. You need not feel that you are not made free to
   that ocean of waters; you are invited and pressed to drink—yea to drink
   abundantly! This ocean supplies all your need. You do not need to have in
   yourself the attributes of Jesus Christ, for His attributes become
   practically yours for all possible use. As saith the Scripture—He is of God
   made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. What do
   you need? Wisdom? Here it is. Righteousness? Here it is. Sanctification?
   Here you have it. All is in Christ. Can you possibly think of any one thing
   needful for your moral purity, or your usefulness which is not here in
   Christ? Nothing. All is provided here. Therefore you need not say, I will go
   and pray and try, as the hymn,


   “I’ll go to Jesus tho’ my sin


   Hath like a mountain rose,


   Perhaps He will admit my plea;


   Perhaps will hear my prayer.”

   There is no need of any perhaps. The doors are always open. Like the doors
   of Broadway Tabernacle in New York, made to swing open and fasten themselves
   open, so that they could not swing back and shut down upon the crowds of
   people thronging to pass through. When they were to be made, I went myself
   to the workmen and told them by all means to fix them so that they must
   swing open and fasten themselves in that position.

   So the door of salvation is open always—fastened open, and no man can shut
   it—not the Pope, even, nor the devil, nor any angel from heaven or from
   hell. There it stands, all swung back and the passage wide open for every
   sinner of our race to enter if he will.

   Again, sin is the most expensive thing in the universe. Are you well aware,
   O sinner, what a price has been paid for you that you may be redeemed and
   made an heir of God and of heaven? O what an expensive business for you to
   indulge in sin.

   And what an enormous tax the government of God has paid to redeem this
   province from its ruin! Talk about the poor tax of Great Britain and of all
   other nations superadded; all is nothing to the sin-tax of Jehovah’s
   government—that awful sin-tax! Think how much machinery is kept in motion to
   save sinners! The Son of God was sent down—angels are sent as ministering
   spirits to the heirs of salvation; missionaries are sent, Christians labour,
   and pray and weep in deep and anxious solicitude—all to seek and save the
   lost. What a wonderful-enormous tax is levied upon the benevolence of the
   universe to put away sin and to save the sinner! If the cost could be
   computed in solid gold what a world of it—a solid globe of itself! What an
   array of toil and cost, from angels, Jesus Christ, the Divine Spirit, and
   living men Shame on sinners who hold on to sin despite of all these
   benevolent efforts to save them! who instead of being ashamed out of sin,
   will say—Let God pay off this tax; who cares! Let the missionaries labour,
   let pious women work their very fingers off to raise funds to keep all this
   human machinery in motion; no matter: what is all this to me? I have loved
   my pleasures and after them I will go! What an unfeeling heart is this

   Sinners can very well afford to make sacrifices to save their fellow
   sinners. Paul could for his fellow sinners. He felt that he had done his
   part toward making sinners, and now it became him to do his part also in
   converting them back to God. But see there—that young man thinks he cannot
   afford to be a minister, for he is afraid he shall not be well supported.
   Does he not owe something to the grace that saved his soul from hell? Has he
   not some sacrifices to make, since Jesus has made so many for him, and
   Christians too, in Christ before him—did they not pray and suffer and toil
   for his soul’s salvation? As to his danger of lacking bread in the Lord’s
   work, let him trust his Great Master. Yet let me also say that churches may
   be in great fault for not comfortably supporting their pastors. Let them
   know God will assuredly starve them if they starve their ministers. Their
   own souls and the souls of their children shall be barren as death if they
   avariciously starve those whom God in His providence sends to feed them with
   the bread of life.

   How much it costs to rid society of certain forms of sin, as for example,
   slavery. How much has been expended already, and how much more yet remains
   to be expended ere this sore evil and curse and sin shall be rooted from our
   land! This is part of God’s great enterprise, and He will press it on to its
   completion. Yet at what an amazing cost! How many lives and how much agony
   to get rid of this one sin!

   Woe to those who make capital out of the sins of men! Just think of the
   rumseller—tempting men while God is trying to dissuade them from rushing on
   in the ways of sin and death! Think of the guilt of those who thus set
   themselves in array against God! So Christ has to contend with rumsellers
   who are doing all they can to hinder His work.

   Our subject strikingly illustrates the nature of sin as mere selfishness. It
   cares not how much sin costs Jesus Christ—how much it costs the Church, how
   much it taxes the benevolent sympathies and the self-sacrificing labours of
   all the good in earth or heaven; no matter; the sinner loves self-indulgence
   and will have it while he can. How many of you have cost your friends
   countless tears and trouble to get you back from your ways of sin? Are you
   not ashamed when so much has been done for you, that you cannot be persuaded
   to give up your sins and turn to God and holiness?

   The whole effort on the part of God for man is one of suffering and
   self-denial. Beginning with the sacrifice of His own beloved Son, it is
   carried on with ever renewed sacrifices and toilsome labours—at great and
   wonderful expense. Just think how long a time these efforts have been
   protracted already—how many tears, poured out like water, it has cost—how
   much pain in many forms this enterprise has caused and cost—yea, that very
   sin which you roll as a sweet morsel under your tongue! God may well hate it
   when He sees how much it costs, and say—O do not that abominable thing that
   I hate!

   Yet God is not unhappy in these self-denials. So great is His joy in the
   results, that He deems all the suffering but comparatively a trifle, even as
   earthly parents enjoy the efforts they make to bless their children. See
   them; they will almost work their very hands off; mothers sit up at night to
   ply their needle till they reel with fatigue and blindness; but if you were
   to see their toil, you would often see also their joy, so intensely do they
   love their children.

   Such is the labour, the joy, and the self-denial of the Father, the Son and
   the Holy Ghost, in their great work for human salvation. Often are they
   grieved that so many will refuse to be saved. Toiling on in a common
   sympathy, there is nothing, within reasonable limits, which they will not do
   or suffer to accomplish their great work. It is wonderful to think how all
   creation sympathizes, too, in this work and its necessary sufferings. Go
   back to the scene of Christ’s sufferings. Could the sun in the heavens look
   down unmoved on such a scene? O no, he could not even behold it—but veiled
   his face from the sight! All nature seemed to put on her robes of deepest
   mourning. The scene was too much for even inanimate nature to bear. The sun
   turned his back and could not look down on such a spectacle!

   The subject illustrates forcibly the worth of the soul. Think you God would
   have done all this if He had had those low views on this subject which
   sinners usually have?

   Martyrs and saints enjoy their sufferings—filling up in themselves what is
   lacking of the sufferings of Christ; not in the atonement proper, but in the
   subordinate parts of the work to be done. It is the nature of true religion
   to love self-denial.

   The results will fully justify all the expense. God had well counted the
   cost before He began. Long time before He formed a moral universe He knew
   perfectly what it must cost Him to redeem sinners, and He knew that the
   result would amply justify all the cost. He knew that a wonder of mercy
   would be wrought—that the suffering demanded of Christ, great as it was,
   would be endured; and that results infinitely glorious would accrue
   therefrom. He looked down the track of time into the distant ages—where, as
   the cycles rolled along, there might be seen the joys of redeemed saints,
   who are singing their songs and striking their harps anew with the
   everlasting song, through the long long, LONG eternity of their blessedness;
   and was not this enough for the heart of infinite love to enjoy? And what do
   you think of it, Christian? Will you say now, I am ashamed to ask to be
   forgiven? How can I bear to receive such mercy! It is the price of blood,
   and how can I accept it? How can I make Jesus so much expense?

   You are right in saying that you have cost Him great expense—but the expense
   has been cheerfully met—the pain has all been endured, and will not need to
   be endured again, and it will cost none the more if you accept than if you
   decline; and moreover still, let it be considered Jesus Christ has not acted
   unwisely; He did not pay too much for the soul’s redemption—not a pang more
   than the interests of God’s government demanded and the worth of the soul
   would justify.

   O, when you come to see Him face to face, and tell Him what you think of
   it—when you are some thousands of years older than you are now, will you not
   adore that wisdom that manages this scheme, and the infinite love in which
   it had its birth? O what will you then say of that amazing condescension
   that brought down Jesus to your rescue! Say, Christian, have you not often
   poured out your soul before your Saviour in acknowledgment of what you have
   cost Him, and there seemed to be a kind of lifting up as if the very bottom
   of your soul were to rise, and you would pour out your whole heart. If
   anybody had seen you they would have wondered what had happened to you that
   had so melted your soul in gratitude and love.

   Say now, sinners will you sell your birthright? How much will you take for
   it? How much will you take for your interest in Christ? For how much will
   you sell your soul? Sell your Christ! Of old they sold Him for thirty pieces
   of silver; and ever since, the heavens have been raining tears of blood on
   our guilty world. If you were to be asked by the devil to fix the sum for
   which you would sell your soul, what would be the price named? Lorenzo Dow
   once met a man as he was riding along a solitary road to fulfil an
   appointment, and said to him—Friend, have you ever prayed? No. How much will
   you take never to pray hereafter? One dollar. Dow paid it over, and rode on.
   The man put the money in his pocket, and passed on, thinking. The more he
   thought, the worse he felt. There, said he, I have sold my soul for one
   dollar! It must be that I have met the devil! Nobody else would tempt me so.
   With all my soul I must repent, or be damned forever!

   How often have you bargained to sell your Saviour for less than thirty
   pieces of silver! Nay, for the merest trifle!

   Finally, God wants volunteers to help on this great work. God has given
   Himself, and given His Son, and sent His Spirit; but more labourers still
   are needed; and what will you give? Paul said, I bear in my body the marks
   of the Lord Jesus. Do you aspire to such an honour? What will you do—what
   will you suffer? Say not, I have nothing to give. You can give yourself—your
   eyes, your ears, your hands, your mind, your heart, all; and surely nothing
   you have is too sacred and too good to be devoted to such a work upon such a
   call! How many young men are ready to go? and how many young women? Whose
   heart leaps up, crying, Here am I! send me?
     _________________________________________________________________

                     II. ON TRUSTING IN THE MERCY OF GOD.

   “I will trust in the mercy of God forever and ever.”-Ps. 52:8.

   IN discussing this subject I shall enquire,

   I. What mercy is.

   II. What is implied in trusting in the mercy of the Lord forever.

   III. Point out the conditions on which we may safely trust in God’s mercy.

   IV. Allude to several mistakes which are made on this subject.
     _________________________________________________________________

I. What Mercy is.

   1.Mercy as an attribute of God, is not to be confounded with mere goodness.
   This mistake is often made. That it is a mistake, you will see at once if
   you consider that mercy is directly opposed to justice, while yet justice is
   one of the natural and legitimate developments of goodness. Goodness may
   demand the exercise of justice; indeed it often does; but to say that mercy
   demands the exercise of justice, is to use the word without meaning. Mercy
   asks that justice be set aside. Of course mercy and goodness stand in very
   different relations to justice, and are very different attributes.

   2. Mercy is a disposition to pardon the guilty. Its exercise consists in
   arresting and setting aside the penalty of law, when that penalty has been
   incurred by transgression. It is, as has been said, directly opposed to
   justice. justice treats every individual according to his deserts; mercy
   treats the criminal very differently from what he deserves to be treated.
   Desert is never the rule by which mercy is guided while it is precisely the
   rule of justice.

   3. Mercy is exercised only where there is guilt. It always pre-supposes
   guilt. The penalty of the law must have been previously incurred, else there
   can be no scope for mercy.

   4. Mercy can be exercised no farther than one deserves punishment. It may
   continue its exercise just as long as punishment is deserved, but no longer;
   just as far as ill desert goes, but no farther. If great punishment is
   deserved, great mercy can be shown; if endless punishment is due, there is
   then scope for infinite mercy to be shown, but not otherwise.
     _________________________________________________________________

II. I am to show what is implied in trusting in the mercy of God.

   1. A conviction of guilt. None can properly be said to trust in the mercy of
   God unless they have committed crimes, and are conscious of this fact.
   justice protects the innocent, and they may safely appeal to it for defence
   or redress. But for the guilty nothing remains but to trust in mercy.
   Trusting in mercy always implies a deep, heartfelt conviction of personal
   guilt.

   2. Trust in mercy—always implies that we have no hope on the score of
   justice. If we had anything to expect from justice, we should not look to
   mercy. The human heart is too proud to throw itself upon mercy while it
   presumes itself to have a valid claim to favor on the score of justice. Nay
   more, to appeal to mercy when we might rightfully appeal to justice is never
   demanded either by God’s law or gospel, nor can it be in harmony with our
   relations to Jehovah’s government. In fact, the thing is, in the very nature
   of the mind, impossible.

   3. Trust in mercy implies a just apprehension of what mercy is. On this
   point many fail because they confound mercy with mere goodness, or with
   grace, considered as mere favor to the undeserving. The latter may be shown
   where there is no mercy, the term mercy being applied to the pardon of
   crime. We all know that God shows favor, or grace in the general sense, to
   all the wicked on earth. He makes His sun to rise on the evil and on the
   good, and sends His rain on the unjust as well as on the just. But to trust
   in this general favor shown to the wicked while on trial here is not
   trusting in the mercy of God. We never trust in mercy till we really
   understand what it is—pardon for the crimes of the guilty.

   4. Trust in God’s mercy implies a belief that He is merciful. We could not
   trust Him if we had no such belief. This belief must always lie at the
   foundation of real trust. Indeed, so naturally does this belief beget that
   out-going of the soul and resting upon God which we call trust, that in the
   New Testament sense it commonly includes both. Faith, or belief, includes a
   hearty committal of the soul to God, and a cordial trust in Him.

   5. “Trusting in the mercy of God forever and ever” implies a conviction of
   deserving endless punishment. Mercy is co-extensive with desert of
   punishment, and can in its nature go no farther. It is rational to rely upon
   the exercise of mercy for as long time as we deserve punishment, but no
   longer. A prisoner under a three years’ sentence to State’s prison may ask
   for the exercise of mercy in the form of pardon for so long a time; but he
   will not ask a pardon for ten years when he needs it only for three, or ask
   a pardon after his three years’ term has expired. This principle is
   perfectly obvious; where desert of punishment ceases, there mercy also
   ceases and our trust in it. While desert of punishment continues, so may
   mercy, and our trust in its exercise. When therefore the Psalmist trusts in
   the mercy of God forever, he renounces all hope of being ever received to
   favor on the score of justice.

   6. Trusting in mercy implies a cessation from all excuses and excuse-making.
   The moment you trust in mercy, you give up all apologies and excuses at once
   and entirely; for these imply a reliance upon God’s justice. An excuse or
   apology is nothing more nor less than an appeal to justice; a plea designed
   to justify our conduct. Trusting in mercy forever implies that we have
   ceased from all excuses forever.

   Thus a man on trial before a civil court, so long as he pleads
   justifications and excuses, appeals to justice; but if he goes before the
   court and pleads guilty, offering no justification or apology whatever, he
   throws himself upon the clemency of the court. This is quite another thing
   from self-justification. It sometimes happens that in the same trial, the
   accused party tries both expedients. He first attempts his own defense; but
   finding this vain, he shifts his position, confesses his crime and ill
   desert, and throws himself upon the mercy of the court. Perhaps he begs the
   court to commend him to the mercy of the executive in whom is vested the
   pardoning power.

   Now it is always understood that when a man pleads guilty he desists from
   making excuses, and appeals only to mercy. So in any private matter with my
   neighbor. If I justify myself fully, I surely have no confession to make.
   But if I am conscious of having done him wrong, I freely confess my wrong,
   and appeal to mercy. Self-justification stands right over against
   confession.

   So in parental discipline. If your child sternly justifies himself, he makes
   no appeal to mercy. But the moment when he casts himself upon your bosom
   with tears, and says, I am all wrong, he ceases to make excuses, and trusts
   himself to mercy. So in the government of God. Trust in mercy is a final
   giving up of all reliance upon justice. You have no more excuses; you make
   none.
     _________________________________________________________________

III. We must next consider the conditions upon which we may confidently and
securely trust in the mercy of God forever.

   1. Public justice must be appeased. Its demands must be satisfied. God is a
   great public magistrate, sustaining infinitely responsible relations to the
   moral universe. He must be careful what He does.

   Perhaps no measure of government is more delicate and difficult in its
   bearings than the exercise of mercy. It is a most critical point. There is
   eminent danger of making the impression that mercy would trample down law.
   The very thing that mercy does is to set aside the execution of the penalty
   of law; the danger is lest this should seem to set aside the law itself. The
   great problem is, How can the law retain its full majesty, the execution of
   its penalty being entirely withdrawn? This is always a difficult and
   delicate matter.

   In human governments we often see great firmness exercised by the
   magistrate. During the scenes of the American Revolution, Washington was
   earnestly importuned to pardon André. The latter was eminently an amiable,
   lovely man; and his case excited a deep sympathy in the American army.
   Numerous and urgent petitions were made to Washington in his behalf; but no,
   Washington could not yield. They besought him to see André, in hope that a
   personal interview might touch his heart; but he refused even to see him. He
   dared not trust his own feelings. He felt that this was a great crisis, and
   that a nation’s welfare was in peril. Hence his stem, unyielding decision.
   It was not that he lacked compassion of soul. He had a heart to feel. But
   under the circumstances, he knew too well that no scope must be given to the
   indulgence of his tender sympathies. He dared not gratify these feelings,
   lest a nation’s ruin should be the penalty.

   Such cases have often occurred in human governments when every feeling of
   the soul is on the side of mercy and makes its strong demand for indulgence;
   but justice forbids.

   Often in family government the parent has an agonizing trial; he would
   sooner bear the pain himself thrice told than to inflict it upon his son;
   but interests of perhaps infinite moment are at stake, and must not be put
   in peril by the indulgence of his compassions.

   Now if the exercise of mercy in such cases is difficult how much more so in
   the government of God? Hence, the first condition of the exercise of mercy
   is that something be done to meet the demands of public justice. It is
   absolutely indispensable that law be sustained. However much disposed God
   may be to pardon, yet He is too good to exercise mercy on any such
   conditions or under any such circumstances as will impair the dignity of His
   law, throw out a license to sin, and open the very flood-gates of iniquity.
   Jehovah never can do this. He knows He never ought to.

   On this point it only need be said at present that this difficulty is wholly
   removed by the atonement of Christ.

   2. A second condition is that we repent, Certainly no sinner has the least
   ground to hope for mercy until he repents. Will God pardon the sinner while
   yet in his rebellion? Never. To do so would be most unjust in God—most
   ruinous to the universe. It would be virtually proclaiming that sin is less
   than a trifle—that God cares not how set in wickedness the sinner’s heart
   is; He is ready to take the most rebellious heart, unhumbled, to His own
   bosom. Before God can do this He must cease to be holy.

   3. We must confess our sins. “He that confesseth,” and he only, “shall find
   mercy.” Jehovah sustains such relations to the moral universe that He cannot
   forgive without the sinner’s confession. He must have the sinner’s testimony
   against himself and in favor of law and obedience.

   Suppose a man convicted and sentenced to be hung. He petitions the governor
   for pardon, but is too proud to confess, at least in public. “May it please
   your Honor,” he says, “between you and me, I am willing to say that I
   committed that crime alleged against me, but you must not ask me to make
   this confession before the world. You will have some regard to my feelings
   and to the feelings of my numerous and very respectable friends. Before the
   world there. fore I shall persist in denying the crime. I trust, however,
   that you will duly consider all the circumstances and grant me a pardon.”
   Pardon you, miscreant, the governor would say—pardon you when you are
   condemning the whole court and jury of injustice, and the witnesses of
   falsehood; pardon you while you set yourself against the whole
   administration of justice in the State? Never! never! You are too proud to
   take your own place and appear in your own character; how can I rely on you
   to be a good citizen—how can I expect you to be anything better than an arch
   villain?

   Let it be understood, then, that before we can trust in the mercy of God, we
   must really repent and make our confession as public as we have made our
   crime.

   Suppose again that a man is convicted and sues for pardon, but will not
   confess at all. O, he says, I have no crimes to confess; I have done nothing
   particularly wrong; the reason of my acting as I have is that I have a
   desperately wicked heart. I cannot repent and never could. I don’t know how
   it happens that I commit murder so easily; it seems to be a second nature to
   me to kill my neighbor; I can’t help it. I am told that you are very good,
   very merciful, he says to the governor; they even say that you are love
   itself, and I believe it; you surely will grant me a pardon then, it will be
   so easy for you—and it is so horrible for me to be hung. You know I have
   done only a little wrong, and that little only because I could not help it;
   you certainly cannot insist upon my making any confession. What! have me
   bung because I don’t repent? You certainly are too kind to do any such
   thing.

   I don’t thank you for your good opinion of me, must be the indignant reply;
   the law shall take its course; your path is to the gallows.

   See that sinner; hear him mock God in his prayer: “trust in the mercy of
   God, for God is love.” Do you repent?

   “I don’t know about repentance—that is not the question God is love—God is
   too good to send men to hell; they are Partialists and slander God who think
   that He ever sends anybody to hell.” Too good! you say; too good! so good
   that He will forgive whether the sinner repents or not; too good to hold the
   reins of His government firmly; too good to secure the best interests of His
   vast kingdom! Sinner, the God you think of is a being of your own crazy
   imagination— not the God who built the prison of despair for hardened
   sinners—not the God who rules the universe by righteous law and our race
   also on a Gospel system which magnifies that law and makes it honorable.

   4. We must really make restitution so far as lies in our power. You may see
   the bearing of this in the case of a highway robber. He has robbed a
   traveller of ten thousand dollars, and is sentenced to State’s prison for
   life. He petitions for pardon. Very sorry he is for his crime; will make any
   confession that can be asked, ever so public; but will he make restitution?
   Not he; no—he needs that money himself. He will give up half of it, perhaps,
   to the government; vastly patriotic is he all at once, and liberal withal;
   ready to make a donation of five thousand dollars for the public good! ready
   to consecrate to most benevolent uses a splendid sum of money; but whose
   money? Where is his justice to the man he has robbed? Wretch! consecrate to
   the public what you have torn from your neighbor and put it into the
   treasury of the government! No; such a gift would burn right through the
   chest! What would you think if the government should connive at such an
   abomination? You would abhor their execrable corruption.

   See that man of the world, His whole business career is a course of
   over-reaching. He slyly thrusts his hands into his neighbor’s pockets and
   thus fills up his own. His rule is uniformly to sell for more than a thing
   is worth and buy for less. He knows how to monopolize and make high prices,
   and then sell out his accumulated stocks. His mind is forever on the stretch
   to manage and make good bargains. But this man at last must prepare to meet
   God. So he turns to his money to make it answer all things. He has a large
   gift for God. Perhaps he will build a church or send a missionary—something
   pretty handsome at least to buy a pardon for a life about which his
   conscience is not very easy. Yes, he has a splendid bribe for God. Ah, but
   will God take it? Never! God burns with indignation at the thought. Does God
   want your price of blood—those gains of oppression? Go and give them back to
   the suffering poor whose cries have gone up to God against you. O shame to
   think to filch from thy brother and give to God! Not merely rob Peter to pay
   Paul, but rob man to pay God! The pardon of your soul is not bought so!

   5. Another condition is that you really reform.

   Suppose there is a villain in our neighborhood who has become the terror of
   all the region round about. He has already murdered a score of defenseless
   women and children; burns down our houses by night; plunders and robs daily;
   and every day brings tidings of his crimes at which every ear tingles. None
   feel safe a moment. He is an arch and bloody villain. At last he is
   arrested, and we all breathe more easily. Peace is restored. But this
   miscreant having received sentence of death, petitions for pardon. He
   professes no penitence whatever, and makes not even a promise of amendment;
   yet the governor is about to give him a free pardon. If be does it, who will
   not say, He ought to be hung up himself by the neck till he is dead, dead!
   But what does that sinner say? “I trust,” says he, “in the great mercy of
   God. I have nothing to fear.” But does he reform? No. What good can the
   mercy of God do him if he does not reform?

   6. You must go the whole length in justifying the law and its penalty.

   Mark that convicted criminal, He doesn’t believe that government has any
   right to take life for any crime; he demurs utterly to the justice of such a
   proceeding, and on this ground insists that he must have a pardon. Will he
   get it? Will the governor take a position which is flatly opposed to the
   very law and constitution which he is sworn to sustain? Will he crush the
   law to save one criminal, or even a thousand criminals? Not if he has the
   spirit of a ruler in his bosom. That guilty man if he would have mercy from
   the Executive must admit the right of the law and of the penalty Else he
   arrays himself against the law and cannot be trusted in the community.

   Now hear that sinner. How much he has to say against his ill desert and
   against the justice of eternal punishment. He denounces the laws of God as
   cruelly and unrighteously severe. Sinner, do you suppose God can forgive you
   while you pursue such a course? He would as soon repeal His law and vacate
   His throne. You make it impossible for God to forgive you.

   7. No sinner can be a proper object of mercy who is not entirely submissive
   to all those measures of the government that have brought him to conviction,

   Suppose a criminal should plead that there had been a conspiracy to waylay
   and arrest him; that witnesses had been bribed to give false testimony; that
   the judge had charged the jury falsely, or that the jury had given an
   unrighteous verdict; could he hope by such false allegations to get a
   pardon? Nay, verily. Such a man cannot be trusted to sustain law and order
   in a community, under any government, human or divine.

   But hear that sinner complain and cavil. Why, he says, did God suffer sin
   and temptation to enter this world at all? Why does God let the sinner live
   at all to incur a doom so dreadful? And why does God block up the sinner’s
   path by His providence, and cut him down in his sins? Yet this very sinner
   talks about trusting in God’s mercy! Indeed; while all the time he is
   accusing God of being an infinite tyrant, and of seeking to crush the
   helpless, unfortunate sinner! What do these cavils mean? What are they but
   the uplifted voice of a guilty rebel arraigning his Maker for doing good and
   showing mercy to His own rebellious creatures? For it needs but a moment’s
   thought to see that the temptation complained of is only a good placed
   before a moral agent to melt his heart by love. Yet against this the sinner
   murmurs, and pours out his complaints against God, Be assured that unless
   you are willing to go the full length of justifying all God does, He never
   can give you pardon. God has no option to pardon a self-justifying rebel.
   The interests of myraids of moral beings forbid His doing it. When you will
   take the ground most fully of justifying God and condemning yourself, you
   place yourself where mercy can reach you, and then it surely will. Not
   before.

   8. You must close in most cordially with the plan of salvation. This plan is
   based on the assumption that we deserve everlasting death and must be saved,
   if ever, by sovereign grace and mercy. Nothing can save but mercy—mercy
   which meets the sinner in the dust, prostrate, without an excuse or an
   apology, giving to God all the glory and taking to himself all the guilt and
   shame. There is hope for thee, sinner, in embracing this plan with all the
   heart.
     _________________________________________________________________

IV. We now notice some mistakes into which many fall.

   1. Many really trust in justice and not in mercy. They say, “God is just—God
   will do me no injustice—I mean to do as well as I can, and then I can safely
   leave myself in the hands of a just God.” True, God will do you no
   injustice. You never need fear that. But how terrible if God should do you
   strict justice! How fearful if you get no mercy! If God does not show you
   infinite mercy you are forever lost, as surely as you are a sinner! This
   trusting in God’s justice is a fatal rock. The sinner who can do it calmly
   has never seen God’s law and his own heart. The Psalmist did not say, I
   trust in the justice of God forever and ever.

   2. Many trust professedly in the mercy of God without fulfilling the
   conditions on which only mercy can be shown.

   They may hold on in such trusting till they die—but no longer.

   3. Sinners do not consider that God cannot dispense with their fulfilling
   these conditions. He has no right to do so.

   They spring out of the very constitution of His government, from His very
   nature, and must therefore be strictly fulfilled. Sooner than dispense with
   their fulfillment, God would send the whole race, yea, the whole universe,
   to hell If God were to set aside these conditions and forgive a sinner while
   unhumbled, impenitent, and unbelieving, He would upset His throne, convulse
   the moral universe, and kindle another hell in His own bosom.

   4. Many are defeating their own salvation by self-justification. Pleas that
   excuse self, and cavils that arraign God, stand alike and fatally in the way
   of pardon. Since the world began it has not been known that a sinner has
   found mercy in this state.

   5. Many pretend to trust in mercy who yet profess to be punished for their
   sins as they go along. They hope for salvation through mercy, and yet they
   are punished for all their sins in this life. Two more absurd and
   self-contradictory things were never put together. Punished as much as they
   deserve here, and yet saved through mercy! Why don’t they say it out that
   they shall be saved after death through justice? Surely if they are punished
   all they deserve as they go along, justice will ask no more after death.

   6. Persons who in the letter plead for mercy, often rely really upon
   justice. The deep conviction of sin and ill-desert does not sink into their
   soul till they realize what mercy is, and feel that they can rely on nothing
   else.

   7. Some are covering up their sins, yet dream of going to heaven. Do they
   think they can hide those sins from the Omniscient Eye? Do they think to
   cover their sins and yet it prosper,” despite of God’s awful word?

   8. We cannot reasonably ask for mercy beyond our acknowledged and felt
   guilt; and they mistake fatally who suppose that they can. Without a deep
   conviction of conscious guilt we cannot be honest and in earnest in
   supplicating mercy. Hear that man pray who thinks sin a trifle and its
   deserved punishment a small affair. “O Lord, I need a little mercy, only a
   little; my sins have been few and of small account; grant me, Lord,
   exemption from the brief and slight punishment which my few errors and
   defects may have deserved.” Or hear that Universalist pray: “O Lord, Thou
   knowest that I have been punished for my sins as I have passed along; I have
   had a fit of sickness and various pains and losses, nearly or quite enough,
   Thou knowest, to punish all the sins I have committed; now, therefore, I
   pray Thee to give me salvation through Thy great mercy.” How astonishing
   that sane men should hold such nonsense! How can a Universalist pray at all?
   What should they pray for? Not for pardon, for on their principles they have
   a valid claim to exemption from punishment on the score of justice, as the
   criminal has who has served out his sentence in the State’s prison. The only
   rational prayer that can be made is that God will do them justice and let
   them off, since they have already been punished enough. But why should they
   pray for this? God may be trusted to do justice without their praying for
   it. I don’t wonder that Universalists pray but little; what have they to
   pray for? Their daily bread? Very well. But the mercy of God they need not
   on their scheme, for they suffer all they deserve. Pleasing delusion;
   flattering enough to human pride, but strange for rational minds and
   horribly pernicious! Restoration takes substantially the same ground, only
   leaving a part of the penalty to De worked out in purgatory, but claiming
   salvation on the ground of justice and not mercy. Mercy can have no place in
   any system of Universalism. Every form of this system arrays God in robes of
   justice—inflexible, fearful justice—yet these men trust, they say, in the
   mercy of God! But what have they done with the Gospel—what with all the
   Bible says about free pardon to the guilty? They have thrust it out of the
   Bible; and what have they given us instead? Only justice, justice—punishment
   enough for sin in this world, or at least in a few years of purgatory: sin a
   trifle—government a mere farce—God a liar—hell a bugbear and a humbug! What
   is all this but dire blasphemy as ever came from hell?

   If we ask for but little mercy, we shall get none at all. This may seem
   strange, but is none the less true. If we get anything, we must ask for
   great blessings. Suppose a man deserved to be hung, and yet asks only for a
   little favor; suppose he should say so, can he be forgiven? No. He must
   confess the whole of his guilt in its full and awful form, and show that he
   feels it in his very soul. So, sinner, must you come and confess your whole
   guilt as it is, or have no mercy. Come and get down, low, lower, infinitely
   low before God, and take mercy there. Hear that Universalist. All he can say
   at first is, “I thank God for a thousand things.” But he begins to doubt
   whether this is quite enough. Perhaps he needs a little more punishment than
   he has suffered in this life; he sees a little more guilt; so he prays that
   God would let him off from ten years of deserved punishment in hell. And if
   he sees a little more guilt, he asks for a reprieve from so much more of
   punishment. If truth flashes upon his soul and he sees his own heart and
   life in the light of Jehovah’s law, he gets down lower and lower, as low as
   he can, and pours out his prayer that God would save him from that eternal
   hell which he deserves. “O,” he cries out, “can God forgive so great a
   sinner!” Yes, and by so much the more readily, by how much the more you
   humble yourself, and by how much the greater mercy you ask and feel that you
   need. Only come down and take such a position that God can meet you.
   Recollect the prodigal son, and that father running, falling on his neck,
   weeping, welcoming, forgiving! O! how that father’s heart gushed with
   tenderness!

   It is not the greatness of your sins, but your pride of heart that forbids
   your salvation. It is not anything in your past life, but it is your present
   state of mind that makes your salvation impossible. Think of this.

   You need not wait to use means with God to persuade Him to save you. He is
   using means with you to persuade you to be saved. You act as if God could
   scarcely be moved by any possible entreaties and submissions to exercise
   mercy. Oh, you do not see how His great heart beats with compassion and
   presses the streams of mercy forth in all directions, pouring the river of
   the waters of life at your very feet, creating such a pressure of appeal to
   your heart that you have to brace yourself against it, lest you should be
   persuaded to repent. O, do you see how God would fain persuade you and break
   your heart in penitence, that He may bring you where He can reach you with
   forgiving mercy—where He can come and bless you without resigning His very
   throne!

   To deny your desert of endless punishment is to render your salvation
   utterly impossible. God never can forgive you on this ground, because you
   are trying to be saved on the score of justice. You could not make your
   damnation more certain than you thus make it, if you were to murder every
   man you meet. You tie up the hands of mercy and will not let her pluck you
   from the jaws of death. It is as if your house were on fire and you seize
   your loaded rifle to shoot down every man that comes with his bucket to help
   you. You stand your ground amid the raging element until you sink beneath
   the flames. Who can help you? What is that man doing who is trying to make
   his family believe Universalism? It is as if he would shoot his rifle at the
   very heart of Mercy every time she comes in view. He seems determined to
   drive off Mercy, and for this end plies all the enginery of Universalism and
   throws himself into the citadel of this refuge of lies! O! what a work of
   death is this! Mercy shall not reach him or his family; so he seems
   determined—and Mercy cannot come. See how she bends from heaven—Jehovah
   smiles in love—and weeps in pity—and bends from the very clouds and holds
   out the pierced hand of the crucified One. But no! I don’t deserve the
   punishment; away with the insult of a pardon offered through mere mercy!
   What can be more fatal, more damning, more ruinous to the soul?

   You see very clearly why all are not saved. It is not because God is not
   willing to save all, but because they defeat the efforts God makes to save
   them. They betake themselves to every possible refuge and subterfuge; resist
   conviction of guilt, and repel every call of mercy. What ails those young
   men? What are they doing? Has God come down in His red wrath and vengeance,
   that they should rally all their might to oppose Him? O, no, He has only
   come in mercy—this is all—and they are fighting against His mercy, not His
   just retributions of vengeance. If this were His awful arm of vengeance you
   would bow right soon or break beneath its blow. But God’s mercy comes in its
   soft whispers (would you but realize it)—it comes to win your heart; and
   what are you doing? You band yourselves together to resist its calls—you
   invent a thousand excuses—you run together to talk, and talk away all solemn
   thought—you run to some infidel or Universalist to find relief for an uneasy
   conscience. Ah, sinner, this can do you no good. You flee away from God—why?
   What’s the matter? Is God pouring down the floods of His great wrath? No,
   no; but Mercy has come, and would fain gather you under her outspread wings
   where storms of wrath can never come. But no, the sinner pleads against
   it—cavils, runs, fights, repels the angel of mercy—dashes from his lips the
   waters of life. Sinner, this scene is soon to close. The time is short. Soon
   God comes— death shakes his dart—that young man is sick—hear his groans. Are
   you going to die, my young friend? Are you ready? O, I don’t know; I am in
   great pain. O! O! how can I live so? Alas, how can I die? I can’t attend to
   it now—too late—too late! Indeed, young man, you are in weakness now. God’s
   finger has touched you. O, if I could only tell you some of the death-bed
   scenes which I have witnessed—if I could make you see them, and hear the
   deep wailings of unutterable agony as the soul quivered, shuddered, and fain
   would shrink away into annihilation from the awful eye—and was swept down
   swift to hell! Those are the very men who ran away from mercy! Mercy could
   not reach them, but death can. Death seizes its victim. See, he drags the
   frightened, shrieking soul to the gate-way of hell; how that soul
   recoils—groans—what an unearthly groan—and he is gone! The sentence of
   execution has gone out and there is no reprieve. Thai sinner would not have
   mercy when he might; now he cannot when he would. All is over now.

   Dying sinner, you may just as well have mercy today as not. All your past
   sins present no obstacle at all if you only repent and take the offered
   pardon. Your God proffers you life. “As I live,” saith the Lord, “I have no
   pleasure in your death; turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die?” Why will you
   reject such offered life? And will you still persist? Be astonished, O ye
   heavens! Indeed, if there ever was anything that filled the universe with
   astonishment, it is the sinner’s rejection of mercy. Angels were astonished
   when they saw the Son of God made flesh, and when they saw Him nailed to a
   tree—how much more now to see the guilty sinner, doomed to hell, yet
   spurning offered pardon! What do they see! That sinner putting off and still
   delaying and delaying still, until—what? Until the last curtain falls, and
   the great bell tolls, tolls, tolls the awful knell of the sinner’s death
   eternal! Where is that sinner? Follow him—down he goes, weeping, wailing,
   along the sides of the pit—he reaches his own final home; in “his own
   place” now and forevermore! Mercy followed him to the last verge of the
   precipice, and could no longer. She has done her part.

   What if a spirit from glory should come and speak to you five minutes—a
   relative, say—perhaps your mother—what would she say? Or a spirit from that
   world of despair—O could such a one give utterance to the awful realities of
   that prison house, what would be say? Would he tell you that the preacher
   has been telling you lies? Would he say, Don’t be frightened by these
   made-up tales of horror? O, no, but that the half has not been told you and
   never can be. O, how he would press you, if he might, to flee from the wrath
   to come!
     _________________________________________________________________

                             III. THE WAGES OF SIN

   “The wages of sin is death.”-Romans 6:23

   THE death here spoken of is that which is due as the penal sanction of
   God’s law.

   In presenting the subject of our text, I must-

   I. Illustrate the nature of sin;

   II. Specify some of the attributes of the penal sanctions of God’s law;

   III. Show what this penalty must be.
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I. Illustrate the nature of sin;

   An illustration will give us the best practical view of the nature of sin.
   You have only to suppose a government established to secure the highest
   well-being of the governed, and of the ruling authorities also. Supposed the
   head of this government to embark all his attributes in the enterprise—all
   his wealth, all his time, all his energies—to compass the high end of the
   highest general good. For this purpose he enacts the best possible laws—laws
   which, if obeyed, will secure the highest good of both subject and Prince.
   He then takes care to affix adequate penalties; else all his care and wisdom
   must come to naught. He devotes to the interests of his government all he is
   and all he has, without reserve or abatement.

   But some of his subjects refuse to sympathize with this movement. They say,
   “Charity begins at home,” and they are for taking care of themselves in the
   first place; in short, they are thoroughly selfish.

   It is easy to see what this would be in a human government. The man who does
   this becomes the common enemy of the government and of all its subjects.
   This is sin. This illustrates precisely the case of the sinner. Sin is
   selfishness, It sets up a selfish end, and to gain it uses selfish means; so
   that in respect to both its end and its means, it is precisely opposed to
   God and to all the ends of general happiness which he seeks to secure. It
   denies God’s rights; discards God’s interests. Each sinner maintains that
   his own will shall be the law. The interest he sets himself to secure is
   entirely opposed to that proposed by God in His government.

   All law must have sanctions. Without sanctions it would be only advice. It
   is therefore essential to the distinctive and inherent nature of law that it
   have sanctions.

   These are either remuneratory or vindicatory. They promise reward for
   obedience, and they also threaten penalty for disobedience. They are
   vindicatory, inasmuch as they vindicate the honour of the violated law.

   Again, sanctions may be either natural or governmental. Often both forms
   exist in other governments than the divine.

   Natural penalties are those evil consequences which naturally result without
   any direct interference of government to punish. Thus in all governments the
   disrespect of its friends falls as a natural penalty on transgressors. They
   are the natural enemies of all good subjects.

   In the divine government, compunctions of conscience and remorse fall into
   this class, and indeed many other things which naturally result to obedience
   on the one hand and to disobedience on the other.

   There should also be governmental sanctions. Every governor should manifest
   his displeasure against the violation of his laws. To leave the whole
   question of obedience to mere natural consequences is obviously unjust to
   society.

   Inasmuch as governments are established to sustain law and secure obedience,
   they are bound to put forth their utmost energies in this work.

   Another incidental agency of government under some circumstances is that
   which we call discipline. One object of discipline is to go before the
   infliction of penalty, and force open unwilling eyes, to see that law has a
   government to back it up, and the sinner a fearful penalty to fear. Coming
   upon men during their probation, while as yet they have not seen or felt the
   fearfulness of penalty, it is designed to admonish them—to make them think
   and consider. Thus its special object is the good of the subject on whom it
   falls and of those who may witness its administration. It does not propose
   to sustain the dignity of law by exemplary inflictions. This belongs
   exclusively to the province of penalty. Discipline, therefore, is not penal
   in the sense of visiting crime with deserved punishment, but aims to
   dissuade the subject of law from violating its precepts.

   Disciplinary agency could scarcely exist under a government of pure law, for
   the reason that such a government cannot defer the infliction of penalty.
   Discipline presupposes a state of suspended penalty. Hence penal inflictions
   must be broadly distinguished from disciplinary.

   We are sinners, and therefore have little occasion to dwell on the
   remuneratory features of God’s government. We can have no claim to
   remuneration under law, being precluded utterly by our sin. But with the
   penal features we have everything to do. I therefore proceed to enquire.
     _________________________________________________________________

II. What are the attributes of the penal sanctions of God’s law?

   God has given us reason. This affirms intuitively and irresistibly all the
   great truths of moral government. There are certain attributes which we know
   must belong to the moral law, e.g., one is intrinsic justice. Penalty should
   threaten no more and no less than is just. Justice must be an attribute of
   God’s law; else the whole universe must inevitably condemn it.

   Intrinsic justice means and implies that the penalty be equal to the
   obligation violated. The guilt of sin consists in its being a violation of
   obligation. Hence the guilt must be in proportion to the magnitude of the
   obligation violated, and consequently the penalty must be measured by this
   obligation.

   Governmental justice is another attribute. This feature of law seeks to
   afford security against transgression. Law is not governmentally just unless
   its penalty be so graduated as to afford the highest security against sin
   which the nature of the case admits. Suppose under any government the
   sanctions of law are trifling, not at all proportioned to the end to be
   secured. Such a government is unjust to itself, and to the interests it is
   committed to maintain. Hence a good government must be governmentally just,
   affording in the severity of its penalties and the certainty of their just
   infliction, the highest security that its law shall be obeyed.

   Again, penal sanctions should be worthy of the end aimed at by the law and
   by its author. Government is only a means to an end, this proposed end being
   universal obedience and its consequent happiness. If law is indispensable
   for obtaining this end, its penalty should be graduated accordingly.

   Hence the penalty should be graduated by the importance of the precept. If
   the precept be of fundamental importance—of such importance that
   disobedience to it saps the very existence of all government—then it should
   be guarded by the greatest and most solemn sanctions. The penalties attached
   to its violation should be of the highest order.

   Penalty should make an adequate expression of the lawgiver’s views of the
   value of the end he proposes to secure by law; also of his views of the
   sacredness of his law; also of the intrinsic guilt of disobedience. Penalty
   aims to bring forth the heart of the lawgiver—to show the earnestness of his
   desire to maintain the right, and to secure that order and well-being which
   depend on obedience. In the greatness of the penalty the lawgiver brings
   forth his heart and pours the whole influence of his character upon his
   subjects.

   The object of executing penalty is precisely the same; not to gratify
   revenge, as some seem to suppose, but to act on the subjects of government
   with influences toward obedience. It has the same general object as the law
   itself has.

   Penal sanctions should be an adequate expression of the lawgiver’s regard
   for the public good and of his interest in it. In the precept he gave some
   expression; in the penalty, he gives yet more. In the precept we see the
   object in view and have a manifestation of regard for the public interests;
   in the penalty, we have a measure of this regard, showing us how great it
   is. For example, suppose a human law were to punish murder with only a
   trifling penalty. Under the pretence of being very tender-hearted, the
   lawgiver amerces this crime of murder with a fine of fifty cents! Would this
   show that he greatly loved his subjects and highly valued their life and
   interests? Far from it. You cannot feel that a legislator has done his duty
   unless he shows how much he values human life, and unless he attaches a
   penalty commensurate in some good degree with the end to be secured.

   One word as to the infliction of capital punishment in human governments.
   There is a difference of opinion as to which is most effective, solitary
   punishment for life, or death. Leaving this question without remark, I have
   it to say that no man ever doubted that the murderer deserves to die. If
   some other punishment than death is to be preferred, it is not by any means
   because the murderer does not deserve death. No man can doubt this for a
   moment. It is one of the unalterable principles of righteousness, that if a
   man sacrifices the interest of another, he sacrifices his own; an eye for an
   eye; life for life.

   We cannot but affirm that no government lays sufficient stress on the
   protection of human life unless it guards this trust with its highest
   penalties. Where life and all its vital interests are at stake, there the
   penalty should be great and solemn as is possible.

   Moral agents have two sides to their sensibility; hope and fear; to which
   you may address the prospect of good and the dread of evil. I am now
   speaking of penalty. This is addressed only to fear.

   I have said in substance that penalty should adequately assert and vindicate
   the rightful authority of the lawgiver; should afford if possible an
   adequate rebuke of sin and should be based on a just appreciation of its
   nature. God’s moral government embraces the whole intelligent universe, and
   stretches with its vast results onward through eternity. Hence the sweep and
   breadth of its interests are absolutely unlimited, and consequently the
   penalties of its law, being set to vindicate the authority of this
   government and eyond measure dreadful. If anything beyond and more dreadful
   than the threatened penalty could be conceived, all minds would say, “This
   is not enough.” With any just views of the relations and the guilt of sin,
   they could not be satisfied unless the penalty is the greatest that is
   conceivable. Sin is so vile, so mischievous, so terribly destructive and so
   far-sweeping in its ruin, moral agents could not feel that enough is done so
   long as more can be.
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III. What is the penalty of God’s moral law?

   Our text answers, ”death.“ This certainly is not animal death, for saints
   die and animals also, neither of whom can be receiving the wages of sin.
   Besides, this would be no penalty if, after its infliction, men went at once
   to heaven. Such a penalty, considered as the wages of sin, would only be an
   insult to God’s government.

   Again, it cannot be spiritual death, for this is nothing else than a state
   of entire disobedience to the law. You cannot well conceive anything more
   absurd than to punish a man for disobedience by subjecting him to perpetual
   disobedience—an effort to sustain the law by dooming such offenders to its
   perpetual violation—and nothing more.

   But this death is endless misery, corresponding to the death-penalty in
   human governments. Everybody knows what this is. It separates the criminal
   from society forever; debars him at once and utterly from all the privileges
   of the government, and consigns him over to hopeless ruin. Nothing more
   dreadful can be inflicted. It is the extreme penalty, fearful beyond any
   other that is possible for man to inflict.

   There can be no doubt that death as spoken of in our text is intended to
   correspond to the death-penalty in human governments.

   You will also observe that in our text the “gift of God” which is “eternal
   life through Jesus Christ our Lord,” is directly contrasted with death, the
   wages of sin. This fact may throw light on the question respecting the
   nature of this death. We must look for the antithesis of “eternal life.”

   Now this eternal life is not merely an eternal existence. Eternal life never
   means merely an eternal existence, in any case where it is used in
   Scripture; but it does mean a state of eternal blessedness, implying eternal
   holiness as its foundation. The use of the term “life” in Scripture in the
   sense of real life—a life worth living i.e., real and rich enjoyment, is so
   common as to supersede the necessity of special proof.

   The penalty of death is therefore the opposite of this viz., eternal misery.

   I must here say a few words upon the objections raised against this doctrine
   of eternal punishment.

   All the objections I have ever heard amount only to this, that it is unjust.
   They may be expressed in somewhat various phraseology, but this is the only
   idea which they involve, of any moment at all.

   (1.) It is claimed to be unjust because “life is so short.”

   How strangely men talk! Life so short, men have not time to sin enough to
   deserve eternal death! Do men forget that one sin incurs the penalty due for
   sinning? How many sins ought it to take to make one transgression of the law
   of God? Men often talk as if they supposed it must require a great many. As
   if a man must commit a great many murders before he has made up the crime of
   murder enough to fall under the sentence of the court! What? shall a man
   come before the court and plead that although he has broken the law to be
   sure, yet he has not lived long enough, and has not broken the law times
   enough, to incur its penalty? What court on earth ever recognized such a
   plea as proving any other than the folly and guilt of him who made it?

   (2.) It is also urged that “man is so small, so very insignificant a being
   that he cannot possibly commit an infinite sin.” What does this objection
   mean? Does it mean that sin is an act of creation, and to be measured
   therefore by the magnitude of that something which it creates? This would be
   an exceedingly wild idea of the nature of sin. Does the objection mean that
   man cannot violate an obligation of infinite strength? Then his meaning is
   simply false, as everybody must know. Does he imply that the guilt of sin is
   not to be measured by the obligation violated? Then he knows not what he
   says, or wickedly denies known truth. What? man so little that he cannot
   commit much sin! Is this the way we reason in analogous cases? Suppose your
   child disobeys you. He is very much smaller than you are! But do you
   therefore exonerate him from blame? Is this a reason which nullifies his
   guilt? Can no sin be committed by inferiors against their superior? Have
   sensible men always been mistaken in supposing that the younger and smaller
   are sometimes under obligations to obey the older and the greater? Suppose
   you smite down the magistrate; suppose you insult, or attempt to assassinate
   the king is this a very small crime, almost too excusable to be deemed a
   crime at all, because forsooth, you are in a lower position and he in a
   higher? You say, “I am so little, so very insignificant! How can I deserve
   so great a punishment?” Do you reason so in any other case except your own
   sins against God? Never.

   (3.) Again, some men say, “Sin is not an infinite evil.” This language is
   ambiguous. Does it mean that sin would not work infinite mischief if
   suffered to run on indefinitely? This is false, for if only one soul were
   ruined by it, the mischief accruing from it would be infinite. Does it mean
   that sin is not an infinite evil, as seen in its present results and
   relations? Suppose this admitted; it proves nothing to our purpose, for it
   may be true that the sum total of evil results from each single sin will not
   all be brought out in any duration less than eternity. How then can you
   measure the evil of sin by what you see today?

   But there are still other considerations to show that the penalty of the law
   must be infinite. Sin is an infinite natural evil. It is so in this sense,
   that there are no bounds to the natural evil it would introduce if not
   governmentally restrained.

   If sin were to ruin but one soul, there could be no limit set to the evil it
   would thus occasion.

   Again, sin involves infinite guilt, for it is a violation of infinite
   obligation. Here it is important to notice a common mistake, growing out of
   confusion of ideas about the ground of obligation. From this, result
   mistakes in regard to what constitutes the guilt of sin. Here I might show
   that when you misapprehend the ground of obligation, you will almost of
   necessity misconceive the nature and extent of sin and guilt. Let us recur
   to our former illustration. Here is a government, wisely framed to secure
   the highest good of the governed and of all concerned. Whence arises the
   obligation to obey? Certainly from the intrinsic value of the end sought to
   be secured. But how broad is this obligation to obey; or, in other words,
   what is its true measure? I answer, it exactly equals the value of the end
   which the government seeks to secure, and which obedience will secure, but
   which sin will destroy. By this measure of God the penalty must be
   graduated. By this the lawgiver must determine how much sanction,
   remuneratory and vindicatory, he must attach to his law in order to meet the
   demands of justice and benevolence.

   Now God’s law aims to secure the highest universal good. Its chief and
   ultimate end is not, strictly speaking, to secure supreme homage to God, but
   rather to secure the highest good of all intelligent moral beings—God, and
   all His creatures. So viewed, you will see that the intrinsic value of the
   end to be sought is the real ground of obligation to obey the precept. The
   value of this end being estimated, you have the value and strength of the
   obligation.

   This is plainly infinite in the sense of being unlimited. In this sense we
   affirm obligation to be without limit. The very reason why we affirm any
   obligation at all is that the law is good and is the necessary means of the
   highest good of the universe. Hence the reason why we affirm any penalty at
   all compels us to affirm the justice and necessity of an infinite penalty.
   We see that intrinsic justice must demand an infinite penalty for the same
   reason that it demands any penalty whatever. If any penalty be just, it is
   just because law secures a certain good. If this good aimed at by the law be
   unlimited in extent, so must be the penalty. Governmental justice thus
   requires endless punishment; else it provides no sufficient guaranty for the
   public good.

   Again, the law not only designs but tends to secure infinite good. Its
   tendencies are direct to this end. Hence its penalty should be infinite. The
   law is not just to the interests it both aims and tends to secure unless it
   arms itself with infinite sanctions.

   Nothing less than infinite penalty can be an adequate expression of God’s
   view of the value of the great end on which His heart is set. When men talk
   about eternal death being too great a penalty for sin, what do they think of
   God’s efforts to restrain sin all over the moral universe? What do they
   think of the death of His well-beloved Son? Do they suppose it possible that
   God could give an adequate or a corresponding expression to His hatred of
   sin by any penalty less than endless?

   Nothing less could give an adequate expression to His regard for the
   authority of law. O, how fearful the results and how shocking the very idea,
   if God should fail to make an adequate expression of His regard for the
   sacredness of that law which underlies the entire weal of all His vast
   kingdom?

   You would insist that He shall regard the violation of His law as
   Universalists do. How surely he would bring down an avalanche of ruin on all
   His intelligent creatures if He were to yield to your demands! Were He to
   affix anything less than endless penalty to His law, what holy being could
   trust the administration of His government!

   His regard to the public good forbids His attaching a light or finite
   penalty to His law. He loves His subjects too well. Some people have strange
   notions of the way in which a ruler should express his regard for his
   subjects. They would have him so tender-hearted toward the guilty that they
   should absorb his entire sympathy and regard. They would allow him perhaps
   to fix a penalty of sixpence fine for the crime of murder, but not much if
   anything more. The poor murderer’s wife and children are so precious you
   must not take away much of his money, and as to touching his liberty or his
   life—neither of these is to be thought of. What! do you not know that human
   nature is very frail and temptable. and therefore you ought to deal very
   sparingly with penalties for murder? Perhaps they would say, you may punish
   the murderer by keeping him awake one night—just one, no more; and God may
   let a guilty man’s conscience disturb him about to this extent for the crime
   of murder! The Universalists do tell us that they will allow the most High
   God to give a man conscience that shall trouble him a little if he commits
   murder—a little, say for the first and perhaps the second offence; but they
   are not wont to notice the fact that under this penalty of a troubling
   conscience, the more a man sins, the less he has to suffer. Under the
   operation of this descending scale, it will soon come to this that a
   murderer would not get so much penalty as the loss of one night’s sleep. But
   such are the notions that men reach when they swing clear of the
   affirmations of an upright reason and of God’s revealing Word.

   Speaking now to those who have a moral sense to affirm the right as well as
   eyes to see the operation of law, I know you cannot deny the logical
   necessity of the death-penalty for the moral law of God. There is a logical
   clinch to every one of these propositions which you cannot escape.

   No penalty less than infinite and endless can be an adequate expression of
   God’s displeasure against sin and of His determination to resist and punish
   it. The penalty should run on as long as there are subjects to be affected
   by it—as long as there is need of any demonstration of God’s feelings and
   governmental course toward sin.

   Nothing less is the greatest God can inflict, for He certainly can inflict
   an endless and infinite punishment. If therefore the exigency demands the
   greatest penalty He can inflict, this must be the penalty—banishment from
   God and endless death.

   But I must pass to remark that the Gospel everywhere assumes the same. It
   holds that by the deeds of the law no flesh can be justified before God.
   Indeed, it not only affirms this, but builds its entire system of atonement
   and grace upon this foundation. It constantly assumes that there is no such
   thing as paying the debt and canceling obligation and therefore that the
   sinner’s only relief is forgiveness through redeeming blood.

   Yet again, if the penalty be not endless death, what is it? Is it temporary
   suffering? Then how long does it last? When does it end? Has any sinner ever
   got through; served out his time and been taken to heaven? We have no
   testimony to prove such a case, not the first one; but we have the solemn
   testimony of Jesus Christ to prove that there never can be such a case. He
   tells us that there can be no passing from hell to heaven or from heaven to
   hell. A great gulf is fixed between, over which none shall ever pass. You
   may pass from earth to heaven, or from earth to hell; but these two states
   of the future world are wide extremes, and no man or angel shall pass the
   gulf that divides them.

   But you answer my question—What is the penalty? by the reply—It is only the
   natural consequences of sin as developed in a troubled conscience. Then it
   follows that the more a man sins the less he is punished, until it amounts
   to an infinitesimal quantity of punishment, for which the sinner cares just
   nothing at all. Who can believe this? Under this system, if a man fears
   punishment, he has only to pitch into sinning with the more will and energy;
   he will have the comfort of feeling that he can very soon get over all his
   compunctions, and get beyond any penalty whatever! And do you believe this
   is God’s only punishment for sin? You cannot believe it.

   Universalists always confound discipline with penal sanctions. They overlook
   this fundamental distinction and regard all that men suffer here in this
   world as only penal. Whereas it is scarcely penal at all, but is chiefly
   disciplinary. They ask, What good will it do a sinner to send him to an
   endless hell? Is not God perfectly benevolent; and if so, how can He have
   any other object than to do the sinner all the good He can?

   I reply, Punishment is not designed to do good to that sinner who is
   punished. It looks to other, remoter, and far greater good. Discipline,
   while he was on earth, sought mainly his personal good; penalty looks to
   other results. If you ask, Does not God aim to do good to the universal
   public by penalty? I answer, Even so; that is precisely what He aims to do.

   Under human governments, the penalty may aim in part to reclaim. So far, it
   is discipline. But the death-penalty—after all suspension is past and the
   fatal blow comes, aims not to reclaim, and is not discipline, but is only
   penalty. The guilty man is laid on the great public altar and made a
   sacrifice for the public good. The object is to make a fearful, terrible
   impression on the public mind of the evil of transgression and the
   fearfulness of its consequences. Discipline looks not so much to the support
   of law as to the recovery of the offender. But the day of judgment has
   nothing to do with reclaiming the lost sinner. That and all its issues are
   purely penal. It is strange that these obvious facts should be overlooked.

   There is yet another consideration often disregarded, viz., that, underlying
   any safe dispensation of discipline, there must be a moral law, sustained by
   ample and fearful sanctions, to preserve the law-giver’s authority and
   sustain the majesty and honour of his government. It would not be safe to
   trust a system of discipline, and indeed it could not be expected to take
   hold of the ruined with much force; if it were not sustained by a system of
   law and penalty. This penal visitation on the unreclaimed sinner must stand
   forever, an appalling fact, to show that justice is realized, law
   vindicated, God honoured; and to make an enduring and awful impression of
   the evil of sin and of God’s eternal hostility against it.
     _________________________________________________________________

REMARKS

   We hear a great many cavils against future punishment. At these we should
   not so much wonder, but for the fact that the Gospel assumes this truth, and
   then proposes a remedy. One would naturally suppose the mind would shrink
   from those fearful conclusions to which it is pressed when the relations of
   mere laws are contemplated; but when the Gospel interposes to save, then it
   becomes passing strange that men should admit the reality of the Gospel, and
   yet reject the law and its penalties. They talk of grace; but what do they
   mean by grace? When men deny the fact of sin, there is no room and no
   occasion for grace in the Gospel. Admitting nominally the fact of sin, but
   virtually denying its guilt, grace is only a name. Repudiating the sanctions
   of the law of God, and labouring to disprove their reality, what right have
   men to claim that they respect the Gospel? They make it only a farce—or at
   least a system of amends for unreasonably severe legislation under the legal
   economy. Let not men who so traduce the law assume that they honour God by
   applauding His Gospel!

   The representations of the Bible with regard to the final doom of the wicked
   are exceedingly striking. Spiritual truths are revealed by natural objects:
   e.g., the gates and walls of the New Jerusalem, to present the splendours
   and glories of the heavenly state. A spiritual telescope is put into our
   hands; we are permitted to point it towards the glorious city “whose builder
   and Maker is God;” we may survey its inner sanctuary, where the worshipping
   hosts praise God without ceasing. We see their flowing robes of white—the
   palms of victory in their hands—the beaming joy of their faces—the
   manifestations of ineffable bliss in their souls. This is heaven portrayed
   in symbol. Who supposes that this is intended as hyperbole? Who arraigns
   these representations as extravagant in speech, as if designed to overrate
   the case, or raise unwarrantable expectations? No man believes this. No man
   ever brings this charge against what the Bible says of heaven. What is the
   object in adopting this figurative mode of representation? Beyond question,
   the object is to give the best possible conception of the facts.

   Then we have the other side. The veil is lifted, and you come to the very
   verge of hell to see what is there. Whereas on the one hand all was
   glorious, on the other all is fearful, and full of horrors.

   There is a bottomless pit. A deathless soul is cast therein it sinks and
   sinks and sinks, going down that awful pit which knows no bottom, weeping
   and wailing as it descends, and you hear its groans as they echo and re-echo
   from the sides of that dread cavern of woe!

   Here is another image. You have a “lake of fire and brimstone,” and you see
   lost sinners thrown into its waves of rolling fire; and they lash its
   burning shore, and gnaw their tongues for pain. There the worm dieth not,
   and their fire is not quenched, and “not one drop of water” can reach them
   to “cool their tongues”—“tormented in that flame.”

   What think you? Has God said these things to frighten our poor souls? Did He
   mean to play on our fears for His own amusement? Can you think so? Nay, does
   it not rather grieve His heart that He must build such a hell, and must
   plunge therein the sinners who will not honour His law—will not embrace
   salvation from sinning. through His grace? Ah, the waves of death roll
   darkly under the eye of the Holy and compassionate One! He has no pleasure
   in the death of the sinner! But He must sustain His throne, and save His
   loyal subjects if He can.

   Turn to another scene. Here is a death-bed. Did you ever see a sinner die?
   Can you describe the scene? Was it a friend, a relative, dear, very dear to
   your heart? How long was he dying? Did it seem to you the death-agony would
   never end? When my last child died, the struggle was long; O, it was
   fearfully protracted and agonizing twenty-four hours in the agonies of
   dissolving nature! It made me sick I could not see it! But suppose it had
   continued till this time. I should long since have died myself under the
   anguish and nervous exhaustion of witnessing such a scene. So would all our
   friends. Who could survive to the final termination of such an awful death?
   Who would not cry out, “My God, cut it short, cut it short in mercy!” When
   my wife died, her death-struggles were long and heart-rending. If you had
   been there, you would have cried mightily to God, “Cut it short! O, cut it
   short and relieve this dreadful agony! But suppose it had continued, on and
   on, by day and by night-day after day, through its slow moving hours, and
   night after night—long nights, as if there could be no morning. The figure
   of our text supposes an eternal dying. Let us conceive such a case. Suppose
   it should actually occur in some dear circle of sympathizing friends. A poor
   man cannot die! He lingers in the death—agony a month, a year, five years,
   ten years—till all his friends are broken down, and fall into their graves
   under the insupportable horror of the scene: but still the poor man cannot
   die! He outlives one generation—then another and another; one hundred years
   he is dying in mortal agony, and yet he comes no nearer to the end! What
   would you think of such a scene? It would be an illustration—that is all—a
   feeble illustration of the awful “second death!” 

   God would have us understand what an awful thing sin is, and what fearful
   punishment it deserves. He would fain show us by such figures how terrible
   must be the doom of the determined sinner. Did you ever see a sinner die?
   and did you not cry out—Surely the curse of God has fallen heavily on this
   world! Ali, this is only a faint emblem of that heavier curse that comes in
   the “second death!“

   The text affirms that death is the “wages of sin.” It is just what sin
   deserves. Labour earns wages, and creates a rightful claim to such
   remuneration. So men are conceived as earning wages when they sin. They
   become entitled to their pay. God deems Himself holden to give them their
   well-deserved wages.

   As I have often said, I would not say one word in this direction to distress
   your souls, if there were no hope and no mercy possible. Would I torment you
   before the time? God forbid! Would I hold out the awful penalty before you,
   and tell you there is no hope? No. I say these things to make you feel the
   need of escaping for your life.

   Think of this: “the wages of sin is death!” God is aiming to erect a
   monument that shall proclaim to all the universe—Stand in awe and sin not!
   So that whenever they shall look on this awful expression, they shall
   say—What an awful thing sin is! People are wont to exclaim—O, how horrible
   the penalty! They are but too apt to overlook the horrible guilt and
   ill-desert of sin! When God lays a sinner on his death-bed before our eyes,
   He invites us to look at the penalty of sin. There he lies, agonizing,
   groaning, quivering, racked with pain, yet he lives, and lives on. Suppose
   he lives on in this dying state a day, a week, a month, a year, a score of
   years, a century, a thousand years, a thousand ages, and still he lives on,
   “dying perpetually, yet never dead:” finally, the universe passes away; the
   heavens are rolled together as a scroll—and what then? There lies that
   sufferer yet. He looks up and cries out, ”How long, O HOW LONG?” Like the
   knell of eternal death, the answer comes down to him, “Eternally,
   ETERNALLY.” Another cycle of eternal ages rolls on, and again he dares to
   ask, how long? and again the answer rolls back, ”Eternally, ETERNALLY!” O
   how this fearful answer comes down thundering through all the realms of
   agony and despair

   We are informed that in the final consummation of earthly scenes, “the
   judgment shall sit and the books shall be opened.” We shall be there, and
   what is more, there to close up our account with our Lord and receive our
   allotment. Which will you have on that final settlement day? The wages of
   sin? Do you say, “Give me my wages—give me my wages; I will not be indebted
   to Christ? “Sinner, you shall have them. God will pay you without fail or
   stint. He has made all the necessary arrangements, and has your wages ready.
   But take care what you do! Look again before you take your final leap. Soon
   the curtain will fall, probation close, and all hope will have perished.
   Where then shall I be? And you, where? On the right hand or on the left?

   The Bible locates hell in the sight of heaven. The smoke of their torment as
   it rises up forever and ever, is in full view from the heights of the
   Heavenly City. There, you adore and worship; but as you cast your eye afar
   off toward where the rich man lay, you see what it costs to sin. There, not
   one drop of water can go to cool their burning tongues. Thence the smoke of
   their torment rises and rises for evermore. Take care what you do today!

   Suppose you are looking into a vast crater, where the surges of molten lava
   boil and roll up, and roll and swell, and ever and anon belch forth huge
   masses to deluge the plains below. Once in my life, I stood in sight of
   Etna, and dropped my eye down into its awful mouth. I could not forbear to
   cry out “tremendous, TREMENDOUS!” There, said I, is an image of hell! O,
   sinner, think of hell, and of yourself thrust into it. It pours forth its
   volumes of smoke and flame forever, never ceasing, never exhausted. Upon
   that spectacle the universe can look and read, “The wages of sin is death!
   O, sin not, since such is the doom of the unpardoned sinner!” Think what a
   demonstration this is in the government of God! What an exhibition of His
   holy justice, of His inflexible purpose to sustain the interests of holiness
   and happiness in all His vast dominions! Is not this worthy of God, and of
   the sacredness of His great scheme of moral government?

   Sinner, you may now escape this fearful doom. This is the reason why God has
   revealed hell in His faithful Word. And now shall this revelation, to you,
   be in vain and worse than in vain?

   What would you think if this whole congregation were pressed by some
   resistless force close up to the very brink of hell: but just as it seemed
   that we are all to be pushed over the awful brink, an angel rushes in,
   shouting as with seraphic trump, ”Salvation is possible—Glory to God, GLORY
   TO GOD, GLORY TO GOD!”

   You cry aloud—Is it possible? Yes, yes, he cries, let me take you up in my
   broad, loving arms, and bear you to the feet of Jesus, for He is mighty and
   willing to save!

   Is all this mere talk? Oh, if I could wet my lips with the dews of heaven,
   and bathe my tongue in its founts of eloquence, even then I could not
   describe the realities.

   Christian people, are you figuring round and round to get a little property,
   yet neglecting souls? Beware lest you ruin souls that can never live again!
   Do you say—I thought they knew it all? They reply to you, “I did not suppose
   you believed a word of it yourselves. You did not act as if you did. Are you
   going to heaven? Well, I am going down to hell! There is no help for me now.
   You will sometimes think of me then, as you shall see the smoke of my woe
   rising up darkly athwart the glorious heavens. After I have been there a
   long, long time, you will sometimes think that I, who once lived by your
   side, am there. O remember, you cannot pray for me then; but you will
   remember that once you might have warned and might have saved me.”

   O methinks, if there can be bitterness in heaven, it must enter through such
   an avenue and spoil your happiness there!
     _________________________________________________________________

               IV. THE SAVIOUR LIFTED UP, AND THE LOOK OF FAITH.
     _________________________________________________________________

   “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of
   Man be lifted up: that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but
   have eternal life.”-John iii. 14, 15.

   “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me. (This
   he said, signifying what death he should die.)”-John xii. 32, 33.

   IN order to make this subject plain, I will read the passage referred
   to-Num. xxi. 6-9. “And the Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and
   they bit the people; and much people of Israel died. Therefore the people
   came to Moses, and said, We have sinned, for we have spoken against the
   LORD, and against thee; pray unto the LORD, that He take away the serpents
   from us. And Moses prayed for the people. And the LORD said unto Moses, Make
   thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a pole: and it shall come to pass,
   that every one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it shall live. And Moses
   made a serpent of brass, and put it upon a pole, and it came to pass, that
   if a serpent had bitten any man, when he beheld the serpent of brass, he
   lived.”

   This is the transaction to which Christ alluded in the text. The object in
   both cases was to save men from the bite of the serpent, its influence being
   unchecked, is the death of the body: the effects of sin, unpardoned and
   uncleansed from the heart, are the ruin of the soul. Christ is lifted up, to
   the end that sinners, believing in Him, may not perish, but may have eternal
   life. In such a connection, to perish cannot mean annihilation, for it must
   be the antithesis of eternal life, and this is plainly much more than
   eternal existence. It must be eternal happiness—real life in the sense of
   exquisite enjoyment. The counterpart of this, eternal misery, is presented
   under the term “perish.” It is common in the Scriptures to find a state of
   endless misery contrasted with one of endless happiness.

   We may observe two points of analogy between the brazen serpent and Christ.

   1. Christ must be lifted UP as the serpent was in the wilderness. From the
   passage quoted above out of John xii. it is plain that this refers to His
   being raised up from the earth upon His cross at His crucifixion.

   2. Christ must be held up as a remedy for sin, even as the brazen serpent
   was as a remedy for a poison. It is not uncommon in the Bible to see sin
   represented as a malady. For this malady, Christ had healing power. He
   professed to be able to forgive sin and to cleanse the soul from its moral
   pollution. Continually did He claim to have this power and encourage men to
   rely upon Him and to resort to Him for its application. In all His personal
   instructions He was careful to hold up Himself as having this power, and as
   capable of affording a remedy for sin.

   In this respect the serpent of brass was a type of Christ. Whoever looked
   upon this serpent was healed. So Christ heals not from punishment only, for
   to this the analogy of healing is less pertinent—but especially from
   sinning—from the heart to sin. He heals the soul and restores it to health.
   So it was said by the announcing angel, “Thou shalt call His name Jesus, for
   He shall save His people from their sins. His power avails to cleanse and
   purify the soul.

   Both Christ and the serpent were held up each as a remedy. and let it be
   specially noted—as a full and adequate remedy, The ancient Hebrews, bitten
   by fiery serpents, were not to mix up nostrums of their own devising to help
   out the cure: it was all-sufficient for them to look up to the remedy of
   God’s own providing. God would have them understand that the healing was
   altogether His own work. The serpent on a pole was the only external object
   connected with their cure; to this they were to look, and in this most
   simple way—only by an expecting look, indicative of simple faith, they
   received their cure.

   Christ is to be lifted up as a present remedy. So was the serpent. The cure
   wrought then was present, immediate. It involved no delay.

   This serpent was God’s appointed remedy. So is Christ, a remedy appointed of
   God, sent down from heaven for this express purpose. It was indeed very
   wonderful that God should appoint a brazen serpent for such a purpose such a
   remedy for such a malady; and not less wonderful is it that Christ should be
   lifted up in agony and blood, as a remedy for both the punishment and the
   heart-power of sin.

   The brazen serpent was a divinely-certified remedy; not a nostrum gotten up
   as thousands are, under high-sounding names and flaming testimonials; but a
   remedy prepared and brought forth by God Himself, under His own certificate
   of its ample healing virtues.

   So was Christ. The Father testifies to the perfect adequacy of Jesus Christ
   as a remedy for sin.

   Jesus Christ must now be held up from the pulpit as one crucified for the
   sins of men. His great power to save lay in His atoning, death.

   He must not only be held up from the pulpit, but this exhibition of His
   person and work must be endorsed, and not contradicted by the experience of
   those who behold Him.

   Suppose that in Moses’ time many who looked were seen to be still dying; who
   could have believed the unqualified declaration of Moses, that “every one
   that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live?” So here in the Gospel
   and its subjects. Doubtless the Hebrews had before their eyes many living
   witnesses who had been bitten and yet bore the scars of those wounds; but
   who, by looking, had been healed. Every such case would go to confirm the
   faith of the people in God’s word and in His own power to save. So Christ
   must be represented in His fullness, and this representation should be
   powerfully endorsed by the experience of His friends. Christ represents
   Himself as one ready and willing to save This, therefore, is the thing to be
   shown. This must be sustained by the testimony of His living witnesses, as
   the first point of analogy is the lifting up of the object to be looked
   upon, the second is this very looking itself.

   Men looked upon the serpent, expecting divine power to heal them. Even those
   ancient men, in that comparatively dark age, understood that the serpent was
   only a type, not the very cause in itself of salvation.

   So is there something very remarkable in the relation of faith to healing.
   Take, for illustration, the case of the woman who had an issue of blood. She
   had heard something about Jesus, and somehow had caught the idea that if she
   could but touch the hem of His garment, she should be made whole. See her
   pressing her way along through the crowd, faint with weakness, pale, and
   trembling; if you had seen her you would perhaps have cried out, What would
   this poor dying invalid do?

   She knew what she was trying to do. At last unnoticed of all, she reached
   the spot where the Holy One stood and put forth her feeble hand and touched
   His garment. Suddenly He turns Himself and asks, Who was it that touched me?
   Somebody touched me: who was it? The disciples, astonished at such a
   question, put under such circumstances, reply—The multitude throng Thee on
   every side, and scores are touching Thee every hour; why then ask—Who
   touched me?

   The fact was, somebody had touched Him with faith to be healed thereby, and
   He knew that the healing virtue had gone forth from Himself to some
   believing heart. How beautiful an illustration this of simple faith! And how
   wonderful the connection between the faith and the healing!

   Just so the Hebrews received that wonderful healing power by simply looking
   toward the brazen serpent. No doubt this was a great mystery to them, yet it
   was none the less a fact. Let them look; the looking brings the cure,
   although not one of them can tell how the healing virtue comes. So we are
   really to look to Christ, and in looking, to receive the healing power. It
   matters not how little we understand the mode in which the looking operates
   to give us the remedy for sin.

   This looking to Jesus implies that we look away from ourselves. There is to
   be no mixing up of quack medicines along with the great remedy. Such a
   course is always sure to fail. Thousands fail in just this way, forever
   trying to be healed partly by their own stupid, self-willed works, as well
   as partly by Jesus Christ. There must be no looking to man or to any of
   man’s doings or man’s help. All dependence must be on Christ alone. As this
   is true in reference to pardon, so is it also in reference to
   sanctification. This is done by faith in Christ. It is only through and by
   faith that you get that divine influence which sanctifies the soul—the
   Spirit of God; and this in some of its forms of action was the power that
   healed the Hebrews in the wilderness.

   Looking to Christ implies looking away from ourselves in the sense of not
   relying at all on our own works for the cure desired, not even on works of
   faith. The looking is toward Christ alone as our all-prevalent,
   all-sufficient and present remedy.

   There is a constant tendency in Christians to depend on their own doings,
   and not on simple faith in Christ. The woman of the blood-issue seems to
   have toiled many years to find relief before she came to Christ; had no
   doubt tried everybody’s prescriptions, and taxed her own ingenuity bee sides
   to its utmost capacity, but all was of no avail. At last she heard of Jesus.
   He was said to do many wonderful works. She said within herself—This must be
   the promised Messiah —who was to “bear our sicknesses” and heal all the
   maladies of men. O let me rush to Him, for if I may but touch the hem of His
   garment, I shall be whole. She did not stop to philosophize upon the mode of
   the cure; she leaned on no man’s philosophy, and had none of her own; she
   simply said—I have heard of One who is mighty to save, and I flee to Him.

   So of being healed of our sins. Despairing of all help in ourselves or in
   any other name than Christ’s, and assured there is virtue in Him to work out
   the cure, we expect it of Him and come to Him to obtain it.

   Several times within the last few years, when persons have come to me with
   the question, Can I anyhow be saved from my sins—actually saved, so as not
   to fall again into the same sins, and under the same temptations? I have
   said—Have you ever tried looking to Jesus? O yes.

   But have you expected that you should be actually saved from sin by looking
   to Jesus, and be filled with faith, love, and holiness? No; I did not expect
   that.

   Now, suppose a man had looked at the brazen serpent for the purpose of
   speculation. He has no faith in what God says about being cured by looking,
   but he is inclined to try it. He will look a little and watch his feelings
   to see how it affects him. He does not believe God’s word, yet since he does
   not absolutely know but it may be true, he will condescend to try it. This
   is no looking at all in the sense of our text. It would not have cured the
   bitten Israelite; it can. not heal the poor sinner. There is no faith in it.

   Sinners must look to Christ with both desire and design to be saved.
   Salvation is the object for which they look.

   Suppose one had looked towards the brazen serpent, but with no willingness
   or purpose to be cured. This could do him no good. Nor can it do sinners any
   good to think of Christ otherwise than as a Saviour, and a Saviour for their
   own sins.

   Sinners must look to Christ as a remedy for all sin. To wish to make some
   exception, sparing some sins, but consenting to abandon others, indicates
   rank rebellion of heart, and can never impose on the All-seeing One. There
   cannot be honesty in the heart which proposes to itself to seek deliverance
   from sin only in part.

   Sinners may look to Christ at once—without the least delay. They need not
   wait till they are almost dead under their malady. For the bitten Israelite,
   it was of no use to wait and defer his looking to the serpent till he found
   himself in the jaws of death. He might have said—I am wounded plainly
   enough, but I do not see as it swells much yet; I do not feel the poison
   spreading through my system; I cannot look yet, for my case is not yet
   desperate enough; I could not hope to excite the pity of the Lord in my
   present condition, and therefore I must wait. I say, there was no need of
   such delay then and no use of it. Nor is there any more need or use for it
   in the sinner’s case now.

   We must look to Christ for blessings promised, not to works, but to faith.
   It is curious to see how many mistakes are made on this point. Many will
   have it that there must be great mental agony, long fasting, many bitter
   tears and strong crying for mercy before deliverance can be looked for. They
   do not seem to think that all these manifestations of grief and distress are
   of not the least avail, because they are not simple faith, nor any part of
   faith, nor indeed any help toward faith: nor are they in anywise needed for
   the make of acting on the sympathies of the Saviour. It is all as if under
   the serpent-plague of the wilderness, men had set their wits at work to get
   up quack remedies; fixing up plasters, and ointments, and plying the system
   with depletions, cathartics, and purifiers of the blood. All this treatment
   could avail nothing; there was but one effective cure, and if a man were
   only bitten and knew it, this would be the only preparatory step necessary
   to his looking as directed for his cure.

   So in the case of the sinner. If he is a sinner and knows it, this
   constitutes his preparation and fitness for coming to Jesus. It is all of no
   avail that he should go about to get up quack prescriptions, and to mix up
   remedies of his own devising with the great Remedy which God has provided.
   Yet there is a constant tendency in religious efforts toward this very
   thing—toward fixing up and relying upon an indefinite multitude and variety
   of spiritual quack remedies. See that sinner. How he toils and agonizes. He
   would compass heaven and earth to work out his own salvation, in his own
   way, to his own credit, by his own works. See how he worries himself in the
   multitude of his own devisings! Commonly before he arrives at simple faith,
   he finds himself in the deep mire of despair. Alas, he cries, There can be
   no hope for me! O! my soul is lost!

   But at last the gleam of a thought breaks through the thick darkness,
   “possibly Jesus can help me! If He can, then I shall live, but not
   otherwise, for surely there is no help for me but in Him.” There he is in
   his despair—bowed in weariness of soul, and worn out with his vain endeavors
   to help himself in other ways. He now bethinks himself of help from above.
   “There is nothing else I can do but cast myself utterly in all my
   hopelessness upon Jesus Christ. Will He receive me? Perhaps He will; and
   that is enough for me to know.” He thinks on a little further, “Perhaps,
   yes, perhaps He will; nay, more, I think He will, for they tell me He has
   done so for other sinners. I think He will—yes, I know He will—and here’s my
   guilty heart! I will trust Him—yea, though He slay me, I will trust in
   Him.”

   Have any of you experienced anything like that?

   “Perhaps He will admit my plea.

   Perhaps will hear my prayer.”

   This is as far as the sinner can dare to go at first. But soon you hear him
   crying out—He says He will; I must believe Him! Then faith gets hold and
   rests on promised faithfulness, and, ere he is aware, his “soul is like the
   chariots of Amminadab,” and he finds his bosom full of peace and joy as one
   on the borders of heaven.
     _________________________________________________________________

REMARKS.

   1. When it is said in John xii., “If I be lifted up, I will draw all men
   unto Me,” the language is indeed universal in form, but cannot be construed
   as strictly universal without being brought into conflict with Bible truth
   and known facts. It is indeed only a common mode of speaking to denote a
   great multitude. I will draw great numbers—a vast “multitude that no man can
   number.” There is nothing here in the context or in the subject to require
   the strictly universal interpretation.

   2. This expedient of the brazen serpent was no doubt designed to try the
   faith of the Israelites. God often put their faith to the test, and often
   adapted His providences to educate their faith—to draw it out and develop
   it. Many things did He do to prove them. So now. They had sinned. Fiery
   serpents came among them and many were poisoned and dying on every hand. God
   said, Make a brazen serpent and set it upon a pole, and raise it high before
   the eyes of all the people. Now let the sufferers look on this serpent and
   they shall live. This put their faith to the test.

   3. It is conceivable that many perished through mere unbelief, although the
   provisions for their salvation were most abundant. We, look at a serpent of
   brass—they might say scornfully—as if there were not humbugs enough among
   the rabble, but Moses must give us yet another! Perhaps some set themselves
   to philosophizing on the matter. We, they say, will much sooner trust our
   tried physicians than these “old wives’ fables.” What philosophical
   connection can any man see between looking upon a piece of brass and being
   healed of a serpent’s bite?

   So, many now blow at the gospel. They wonder how any healing power can come
   of Gospel faith. True, they hear some say they are healed, and that they
   know the healing power has gone to their very soul, and they cry, “I looked
   to Jesus and I was healed and made whole from that very hour.” But they
   count all this as mere fanatical delusion. They can see none of their
   philosophy in it.

   But is this fanaticism? Is it any more strange than that a man bitten of
   poisonous serpents should be healed by looking at God’s command on a brazen
   serpent?

   4. Many are stumbled by the simplicity of the Gospel. They want something
   more intelligible! They want to see through it. They will not trust what
   they cannot explain. It is on this ground that many stumble at the doctrine
   of sanctification by faith in Christ. It is so simple their philosophy
   cannot see through it.

   Yet the analogy afforded in our text is complete. Men are to look to Jesus
   that they may not perish, but may have eternal life. And who does not know
   that eternal life involves entire sanctification?

   5. The natural man always seeks for some way of salvation that shall be
   altogether creditable to himself He wants to work out some form of
   self-righteousness and does not know about trusting in Christ alone. It does
   not seem to him natural or philosophical.

   6. There is a wonderful and most alarming state of things in many churches
   abroad: almost no Christ in their experience. It is most manifest that He
   holds an exceedingly small space in their hearts. So far from knowing what
   salvation is as a thing to be attained by simply believing in Christ, they
   can only give you an experience of this sort. How did you become a
   Christian? I just made up my mind to serve the Lord. Is that all? That’s
   all. Do you know what it is to receive eternal life by simply looking to
   Jesus? Don’t know as I understand that. Then you are not a Christian.
   Christianity, from beginning to end, is received from Christ by simple
   faith. Thus, and only thus, does the pardon of sin come to the soul, and
   thus only can come that peace of God, passing all understanding, which lives
   in the soul with faith and love. Thus sanctification comes through faith in
   Christ.

   What, then, shall we think of that religion which leaves Christ out of view?

   Many are looking for some wonderful sign or token, not understanding that it
   is by faith they are to be brought completely into sympathy with Christ and
   into participation with His own life. By faith Christ unites them to
   Himself. Faith working by love, draws them into living union with His own
   moral being. All this is done by the mind’s simply looking to Christ in
   faith.

   When the serpent was up, no doubt many perished because they would not
   accept and act upon so simple a plan of remedy. Many perished because they
   did not and would not realize their danger. If they saw men cured, they
   would say—We don’t believe it was done by the brazen serpent on the pole.
   Those men were not much poisoned—would not have died anyhow. They assume
   that those who ascribe their cure to the power of God are mistaken.

   Many perished also from delay. They waited to see whether they were in
   danger of dying. And still they waited—till they were so bedizened and
   crazed, they could only lie down and die.

   So now in regard to the Gospel. Some are occupied with other matters more
   important just now, and of course they must delay. Many are influenced by
   others’ opinions. They hear many stories. Such a man looked and yet lost his
   life. Another man did not look and yet was saved. So men have different
   opinions about their professedly Christian neighbors, and this stumbles
   many. They hear that some set out strong for religion, but seem to fail.
   They looked as they thought, but all in vain. Perhaps it was so; for they
   might have looked without real faith. Some will philosophize till they make
   themselves believe it is all a delusion to look. They think they see many
   pretend to look and appear to look, who yet find no healing. Who can believe
   where there are so many stumbling-blocks?

   These discouraging appearances drove some into despair in the wilderness, we
   may suppose; and certainly we see that the same causes produce these effects
   here in the case of sinners. Some think they have committed the unpardonable
   sin. They class themselves among those who “having been once enlightened,”
   “there remains for them no more sacrifice for sins, but a certain looking
   for of vengeance and fiery indignation.” Some are sure it is too late for
   them now. Their heart is hard as the nether mill-stone. All is dark and
   desolate as the grave. See him; his very look is that of a lost soul! Ah,
   some of you are perhaps reasoning and disbelieving in this very way!

   Many neglected because they thought they were getting better. They saw some
   change of symptoms, as they supposed. So with sinners; they feel better for
   going to meeting, and indeed there is so much improvement, they take it they
   are undoubtedly doing well.

   Many of the ancient Hebrews may have refused to look because they had no
   good hope; because, indeed, they were full of doubts. If you had been there
   you would have found a great variety of conflicting views, often even
   between brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, parents and children.
   Some ridicule; some are mad; some wont believe anyhow. And must I say
   it—some sinners who ought to be seeking Christ are deterred by reasons fully
   as frivolous and foolish as these.

   It is easy for us all to see the analogy between the manner of looking and
   the reasons for not looking at the brazen serpent and to Christ the Saviour.
   I need not push the analogy into its minute particulars any further. But the
   question for you all now is: Do you really believe that as “Moses lifted up
   the serpent in the wilderness, even so is the Son of man lifted up, that
   whosever believeth in him shall not perish, but shall have eternal life.” Do
   you understand the simple remedy of faith? Perhaps you ask—What were they to
   believe? This, that if they really looked at the brazen serpent on the pole,
   they should certainly experience the needed healing. It was God’s certified
   remedy, and they were so to regard it. And what are you now to believe? That
   Christ is the great antitype of that serpent lifted up in the wilderness,
   and that you are to receive from Him by simple faith all the blessings of a
   full and free salvation. By simple faith, I say, and do you understand this?
   Do I hear you say to these things—What, may I, a sinner, just fix my eye in
   simple faith on Jesus? Who—who may do this? Is it I? How can it be that I
   should have this privilege?

   I see here today the faces of some whom I saw last fall in the meetings for
   inquiry. What have you been doing? Have you been trying to work yourselves
   into some certain state of mind? Are you wishing intensely that you could
   only feel so and so—according to some ideal you have in your mind? Do you
   understand that you are really to look by faith, and let this look of faith
   be to you as the touch of the poor woman with an issue of blood was to her
   dying body, believing that if you look in simple trust He surely will
   receive you, and give you His divine love and peace and life and light, and
   really make them pulsate through your whole moral being? Do you believe it?
   Nay, don’t you see that you do not believe it? Oh, but you say, “It is a
   great mystery!” I am not going to explain it, nor shall I presume that I can
   do so, any more than I can explain how that woman was healed by touching the
   hem of the Saviour’s garment. The touch in this case and the looking in
   that, are only the means, the media, by which the power is to be received.
   The manner in which God operates is a thing of small consequence to us; let
   us be satisfied that we know what we must do to secure the operations of His
   divine Spirit in all things that pertain to life and godliness.

   You have doubtless had confused notions of the way of salvation, perhaps
   contriving and speculating, and working upon your own feelings. Now you
   pray, and having prayed, you say, Now let me watch and see if this prayer
   has given me salvation! This course is much as if the Hebrew people when
   bitten by serpents and commanded to look to the serpent of brass, had gone
   about to apply here a plaster, there a blister, and then a probe, all the
   time losing sight of just that one thing which God told them would
   infallibly cure. Oh! why should men forget, and why not understand that all
   good needed by us comes from God to simple faith? When we see any want,
   there is Christ, to be received by faith alone; and His promises leave no
   want unprovided for.

   Now, if this is the way of salvation, how wonderful that sinners should look
   every other way but toward Christ, and should put forth all other sorts of
   effort except the effort to look at once in simple faith to their Saviour!
   How often do we see them discouraged and confounded, toiling so hard and so
   utterly in vain. No wonder they should be so greatly misled. Go round among
   the churches and ask. Did you ever expect to be saved from sin in this
   world? No; but you expect to be saved at death. Inasmuch as He has been
   quite unsuccessful in His efforts to sanctify your soul during your life,
   you think He will send death on in season to help the work through!

   Can you believe this?

   While Christians disown the glorious doctrine of sanctification by faith in
   Christ, present, and according to each man’s faith so done to him. it cannot
   be expected that they will teach sinners with intelligible clearness how to
   look to Christ in simple faith for pardon. Knowing so little of the power of
   faith in their own experience, how can they teach others effectively, or
   even truthfully? Thus blind leading blind, it is no wonder that both are
   found together where the Bible proverb represents both the leaders and the
   led as terminating their mutual relations,

   There seems to be no remedy for such a finality except for professing
   Christians to become the light of the world; and for this end, to learn the
   meaning and know the experience of simple faith. Faith once learned, they
   will experience its transforming power, and be able to teach others the way
   of life.
     _________________________________________________________________

                     V. THE EXCUSES OF SINNERS CONDEMN GOD

   “Wilt thou also disannul my judgment? Wilt thou condemn me, that thou mayest
   be righteous?”-Job xl. 8.

   ALTHOUGH in the main, Job had spoken correctly of God, yet in his great
   anguish and perturbation under his sore trials, he had said some things
   which were hasty and abusive. For these the Lord rebuked him. This rebuke is
   contained in our context:

   “Moreover the Lord answered Job, and said—Shall he that contendeth with the
   Almighty instruct Him? He that reproveth God, let him answer it.

   “Then Job answered the Lord, and said—Behold I am vile; what shall I answer
   thee? I will lay my hand upon my mouth. Once have I spoken but I will not
   answer; yea, twice, but I will proceed no further.

   “Then answered the Lord unto Job out of the whirlwind, and said—Gird up thy
   loins now like a man; I will demand of thee, and declare thou unto me. Wilt
   thou also disannul my judgment? Wilt thou condemn me, that thou mayest be
   righteous?“-Job xl. 1-8

   It is not, however, my object to discuss the original purpose and connection
   of these words, but rather to consider their present application to the case
   of sinners. In pursuing this object, I shall

   I. Show that every excuse for sin condemns God.

   II. Consider some of these excuses in detail.

   III. Show that excuse for sin adds insult to injury.
     _________________________________________________________________

I. Every excuse for sin condemns God.

   This will be apparent if we consider,

   1. That nothing can be sin for which there is a justifiable excuse.

   This is entirely self-evident. It therefore needs neither elucidation nor
   proof.

   2. If God condemns that for which there is a good excuse, He must be wrong.
   This also is self-evident. If God condemns what we have good reason for
   doing, no intelligence in the universe can justify Him.

   3. But God does condemn all sin. He condemns it utterly, and will not allow
   the least apology or excuse for it. Hence, either there is no apology for
   it, or God is wrong.

   4. Consequently, every excuse for sin charges blame upon God, and virtually
   accuses Him of tyranny. Whoever pleads an excuse for sin, therefore, charges
   God with blame.
     _________________________________________________________________

II. We will consider some of these excuses, and see whether the principles I
have laid down are not just and true.

   1. INABILITY. No excuse is more common. It is echoed and re-echoed over
   every Christian land, and handed down age after age, never to be forgotten.
   With unblushing face it is proclaimed that men cannot do what God requires
   of them.

   Let us examine this and see what it amounts to God, it is said, requires
   what men cannot do. And does He know that men cannot, do it? Most certainly.
   Then He has no apology for requiring it, and the requisition is most
   unreasonable. Human reason can never justify it. It is a natural
   impossibility.

   But again, upon what penalty does God require what man cannot do? The
   threatened penalty is eternal death! Yes, eternal death, according to the
   views of those who plead inability as an excuse. God requires me, on pain of
   eternal death, to do that which He knows I cannot do. Truly this condemns
   God in the worst sense. You might just as well charge God outright with
   being an infinite tyrant.

   Moreover, it is not for us to say whether on these conditions we shall or
   shall not charge God with infinite tyranny, for we cannot help it. The law
   of our reason demands it.

   Hence, those who plant themselves upon these grounds charge God with
   infinite tyranny. Perhaps, sinner, you little think when you urge the excuse
   of inability, that you are really arraigning God on the charge of infinite
   tyranny. And you, Christian, who make this dogma of inability a part of your
   “orthodox” creed, may have little noticed its blasphemous hearings against
   the character of God; but your failure to notice it alters not the fact. The
   black charge is involved in the very doctrine of inability, and cannot be
   explained out of it.

   I have intimated that this charge is blasphemous against, God—and most
   truly. Far be it from God to do any such thing! Shall God require natural
   impossibilities, and denounce eternal death upon men for not doing what they
   have no natural power to do? Never! Yet good men and bad men agree together
   to charge God with doing this very thing, and doing it not once or twice
   only, but uniformly through all ages, with all the race, from the beginning
   to the end of time! Horrible! Nothing in all the government of God ever so
   insulted and abused Jehovah! Nothing was ever more blasphemous and false!
   God says, “his commandments are not grievous;” but you, by this excuse of
   inability, proclaim that God’s words are false. You declare that His
   commands are not only grievous, but are even naturally impossible! Hark!
   what does the Lord Jesus say? “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” And
   do you deny this? Do you rise up in the very face of His words and say,
   “Lord, Thy yoke is so hard that no man can possibly endure it; Thy burden is
   so heavy that no man can ever bear it?” Is not this gainsaying and
   blaspheming Him who can not lie?

   But you take the ground that no man can obey the law of God. As the
   Presbyterian Confession of Faith has it, ”No man is able, either by himself,
   or by any grace received in this life, perfectly to keep the commandments of
   God; but doth daily break them in thought, word, and deed.” Observe, this
   affirms not only that no man is naturally able to keep God’s commands, but
   also that no man is able to do it “by any grace received in this life;“ thus
   making this declaration a libel on the Gospel as well as a palpable
   misrepresentation of the law of its Author, and of man’s relations to both.
   It is only moderate language to call this assertion from the Confession of
   Faith a libel. If there is a lie, either in hell or out of hell, this is a
   lie, or God is an infinite tyrant. If reason be allowed to speak at all, it
   is impossible for her to say less or otherwise than thus. And has not God
   constituted the reason of man for the very purpose of taking cognizance of
   the rectitude of all his ways?

   Let God be true though every man be proved a liar! In the present case, the
   remarkable fact that no man can appease his own conscience and satisfy
   himself that he is truly unable to keep the law, shows that man lies, not
   God.

   2. A second excuse which sinners make is want of time.

   Suppose I tell one of my sons, “Go, do this or that duty, on pain of being
   whipped to death.” He replies, “Father, I can’t possibly do it, for I have
   not time. I must be doing that other business which you told me to do; and
   besides, if I had nothing else to do, I could not possibly do this new
   business in the time you allow.” Now if this statement be the truth, and I
   knew it when I gave him the command, then I am a tyrant. There is no evading
   this charge. My conduct toward my son is downright tyranny.

   So if God really requires of you what you have not time to do, He is
   infinitely to blame. For He surely knows how little time you have, and it is
   undeniable that He enforces His requisitions with most terrific penalties.
   What! is God so reckless of justice, so regardless of the well-being of His
   creatures, that He can sport with red-hot thunder-bolts, and burl them,
   despite of justice and right, among His unfortunate creatures? Never! NEVER!
   This is not true; it is only the false assumption which the sinner makes
   when he pleads as his excuse, that he has not time to do what God demands of
   him.

   Let me ask you, sinner, how much time will it take you to do the first great
   duty which God requires namely, give Him your heart? How long will this
   take? How long need you be in making up your mind to serve and love God? Do
   you not know that this, when done, will be done in one moment of time? And
   how long need you be in persuading yourself to do it?

   Your meaning may be this: Lord, it takes me so long to make up my mind to
   serve thee, it seems as if I never should get time enough for this; even the
   whole of life seems almost too short for me to bring my mind to this
   unwelcome decision. Is this your meaning, sinner?

   But let us look on all sides of the subject. Suppose I say to my son, “Do
   this now, my son;” and he replies, “I can’t, father, for I must do that
   other thing you told me to do.” Does God do so? No. God only requires the
   duty of each moment in its time. This is all. He only asks us to use
   faithfully just all the power He has given us—nothing more. He only requires
   that we do the best we can. When He prescribes the amount of love which will
   please Him, He does not say —Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with the
   powers of an angel—with the burning heart of a seraph—no, but only “with all
   thy heart“ this is all. An infinitely ridiculous plea is this of the
   sinner’s, that he can not do as well as he can—can not love God with all his
   own heart, and soul, and mind, and strength. Thou shalt do the best that
   thou art able to do, says God to the sinner. Ah, says the sinner, I am not
   able to do that. Oh, what stupid nonsense!

   You charge that God is unreasonable. The truth is, God is the most
   reasonable of all beings. He asks only that we should use each moment for
   Him, in labour, or in rest, whichever is most for His glory. He only
   requires that with the time, talents, and strength which He has given us, we
   should do all we can. to serve Him.

   Says that mother, “How can I be religious? I have to take care of all my
   children.” Indeed! and can’t you get time to serve God? What does God
   require of you? That you should forsake and neglect your children? No,
   indeed; He asks you to take care of your children—good care of them; and do
   it all for God. He says to you—Those are my children; and He puts them into
   your hands, saying—Take care of them for Me, and I will give thee wages. And
   now will it require more time to take care of your children for God, than to
   take care of them for yourself? O, but you say, I cannot be religious, for I
   must be up in the morning and get my breakfast. And how much longer will it
   take you to get your breakfast ready to please God, than to do the same to
   please yourself? How much longer time must you have to do your duties
   religiously, than to do them selfishly?

   What, then, do you mean by this plea? The fact is, all these excuses show
   that the excuser is mad—not insane, but mad. For what does God require so
   great that you should be unable to do it for want of time? Only this, that
   you should do all for God. Persons who make this plea seem to have entirely
   overlooked the real nature of religion, and of the requisitions that God
   makes of them. So it is with the plea of inability. The sinner says, I am
   unable.” Unable to do what? Just what you can do for God never requires
   anything beyond this. Unless, therefore, you assume that God requires of you
   more than you can do, your plea is false, and even ridiculous. If, on the
   other hand, you do not assume this, then your plea, if true, would not show
   God to be unjust.

   But I was saying that in this plea of having no time to be religious, men
   entirely overlook or pervert the true idea of religion. The farmer pleads,
   “I can’t be religious; I can’t serve God—I must sow my wheat.” Well, sow
   your wheat but do it for the Lord. O but you have so much to do! Then do it
   all for the Lord. Another can’t be religious for he must get his lesson.
   Well, get your lesson, but get it for the Lord, and this will be religious.
   The man who should neglect to sow his wheat or neglect to get his lessons
   because he wants to be religious, is crazy. He perverts the plainest things
   in the worst way. If you are to be religious, you must be industrious. The
   farmer must sow his wheat, and the student must get his lesson. An idle man
   can no more be religious than the devil can be. This notion that men can’t
   be religious, because they have some business to do, is the merest nonsense.
   It utterly overlooks the great truth that God never forbids our doing the
   appropriate business of life, but only requires that we shall do all for
   Himself If God did require us to serve Him in such a way as would compel us
   to neglect the practical duties of life, it would be truly a hard case. But
   now the whole truth is, that He requires us to do precisely these duties,
   and do them all honestly and faithfully for Hinz, and in the best possible
   manner. Let the farmer take care of his farm, and see that he does it well,
   and above all, do it for God. It is God’s farm, and the heart of every
   farmer is God’s heart, therefore let the farm be tilled for God, and the
   heart be devoted to Him alone.

   3. Men plead a sinful nature for their excuse. And pray, what is this sinful
   nature? Do you mean by it that every faculty and even the very essence of
   your constitution were poisoned and made sinful in Adam, and came down in
   this polluted state by inheritance to you? Do you mean that you were so born
   in sin that the substance of your being is all saturated with it, and so
   that all the faculties of your constitution ire themselves sin? Do you
   believe this?

   I admit if this were true, it would make out a hard case. A hard case
   indeed! Until the laws of my reason are changed, it would compel me to speak
   out openly and say—Lord, this is a hard case, that Thou shouldst make my
   nature itself a sinner, and then charge the guilt of its sin upon me! I
   could not help saying this; the deep echoings of my inner being would
   proclaim it without ceasing, and the breaking of ten thousand thunderbolts
   over my head would not deter me from thinking and saying so. The reason God
   has given me would forever affirm it.

   But the dogma is an utter absurdity. For, pray, what is sin? God answers,
   “transgression of law.” And now you hold that your nature is itself a breach
   of the law of God—nay, that it has always been a breach of God’s law, from
   Adam to the day of your birth; you hold that the current of this sin came
   down in the veins and blood of your race—and who made it so? Who created the
   veins and blood of man? From whose hand sprang this physical constitution
   and this mental constitution? Was man his own creator? Did sin do a part of
   the work in creating your physical and your mental constitution? Do you
   believe any such thing? No you ascribe your nature and its original
   faculties to God, and upon Him, therefore, you charge the guilty authorship
   of your sinful nature.”

   But how strange a thing is this! If man is in fault for his sinful nature,
   why not condemn man for having blue or black eyes? The fact is, sin never
   can consist in having a nature, nor in what nature is; but only and alone in
   the bad use which we make of our nature. This is all. Our Maker will never
   find fault with us for what He has Himself done or made; certainly not. He
   will not condemn us, if we will only make a right use of our powers—of our
   intellect, our sensibility, and our will. He never holds us responsible for
   our original nature. If you will observe, you will find that God has given
   no law prescribing what sort of nature and constitutional powers we should
   have. He has given no law on these points, the transgression of which, if
   given, might somewhat resemble the definition of sin. But now since there is
   no law about nature, nature cannot be a transgression.

   Here let me say, that if God were to make a law prescribing what nature or
   constitution a man must have, it could not possible be otherwise than unjust
   and absurd, for the reason that man’s nature is not a proper subject for
   legislation, precept, and penalty, inasmuch as it lies entirely without the
   pale of voluntary action, or of any action of man at all. And yet thousands
   of men have held the dogma that sin consists in great part in having a
   sinful nature. Yes, through long ages of past history, grave theologians
   have gravely taught this monstrous dogma; it has resounded from pulpits, and
   has been stereotyped for the press, and men have seemed to be never weary of
   glorifying this dogma as the surest test of sound orthodoxy! Orthodoxy!!
   There never was a more infamous libel on Jehovah! It would be hard to name
   another dogma which more violently outrages common sense. it is
   nonsense—absurd and utter NONSENSE! I would to God that it were not even
   worse than nonsense! Think what mischief it has wrought! Think how it has
   scandalized the law, the government, and the character of God! Think how it
   has filled the mouths of sinners with excuses from the day of its birth to
   this hour

   Now I do not mean to imply that the men who have held this dogma have
   intelligently insulted God with it. I do not imply that they have been aware
   of the impious and even blasphemous bearings of this dogma upon Jehovah: I
   am happy to think that some at least have done all this mischief ignorantly.
   But the blunder and the mischief have been none the less for the honest
   ignorance in which they were done.

   4. Sinners, in self-excuse, say they are willing to be Christians. They are
   willing, they say, to be sanctified. O yes, they are very willing; but there
   is some great difficulty lying further back or something else—perhaps they
   do not know just where—but it is somewhere, and it will not let them become
   Christians.

   Now the fact is, if we are really willing, there is nothing more which we
   can do. Willing is all we have to do morally in the case, and all we can do.
   But the plea, as in the sinner’s mouth, maintains that God requires of us
   what is naturally impossible. It assumes that God requires of us something
   more than right willing; and this, be it what it may, is, of course, to us,
   an impossibility. If I will to move my muscles, and no motion follows, I
   have done all I can do; there is a difficulty beyond my reach, and I am in
   no blame for its existence, or for its impediment. Just so, if I were to
   will to serve God, and absolutely no effect should follow, I have done my
   utmost, and God never can demand anything more. In fact, to will is the very
   thing which God does require. “If there be first a willing mind, it is
   accepted.” Do tell me, parent, if you had told your child to do anything,
   and you saw him exerting himself to the utmost, would you ask anything more?
   If you should see a parent demanding and enforcing of a child more than he
   could possibly do, however willing, would you not denounce that parent as a
   tyrant? Certainly you would. The slave-driver, even, is not wont to beat his
   slave, if he sees him willing to do all he can.

   This plea is utterly false, for no sinner is willing to be any better than
   be actually is. If the will is right, all is right; and universally the
   state of the will is the measure of one’s moral character. Those men,
   therefore, who plead that they are willing to be Christians while yet they
   remain in their sins, talk mere nonsense.

   5. Sinners say they are waiting God’s time. A lady in Philadelphia had been
   in great distress of mind for many years. On calling to see her, I asked,
   “What does God require of you? What is your case?” “Oh,” said she,

   God waited on me a long time before I began to seek Him at all, and now I
   must wait for Him as long as He did for me.

   So my minister tells me. You see, therefore, that I am waiting in great
   distress for God to receive me.”

   Now what is the real meaning of this? It comes to this; God urges me to
   duty, but is not ready for me to do it; He tells me to come to the Gospel
   feast, and I am ready; but He is not ready to let me in.

   Now does not this throw all the blame upon God? Could anything do so more
   completely than this does? The sinner says, “I am ready, and willing, and
   waiting; but God is not yet ready for me to stop sinning. His hour has not
   yet come.

   When I first began to preach, I found this notion almost universal. Often,
   after pressing men to duty, I have been accosted, “What, you throw all the
   blame upon the sinner!” “Yes, indeed I do,” would be my reply. An old lady
   once met me after preaching and broke out, “What! you set men to getting
   religion themselves! You tell them to repent themselves? You don’t mean so,
   do you? Indeed I do,” said I. She had been teaching for many years that the
   sinner’s chief duty is to await God’s time.

   6. Sinners plead in excuse, that their circumstances are very peculiar. I
   know my duty well enough, but my circumstances are so peculiar. And does not
   God understand your circumstances? Nay, has not His providence been
   concerned in making them what they are? If so, then you are throwing blame
   upon God. You say, “O Lord, Thou art a hard master, for Thou hast never made
   any allowance for my circumstances.”

   But how much, sinner, do you really mean in making this plea? Do you mean
   that your circumstances are so peculiar that God ought to excuse you from
   becoming religious, at least for the present? If you do not mean as much as
   this, why do you make your circumstances your excuse at all? If you do mean
   this, then you are just as much mistaken as you can be. For God requires
   you, despite of your circumstances, to abandon your sin. If, now, your
   circumstances are so peculiar that you cannot serve God in them, you must
   abandon them or lose your soul. If they are such as admit of your serving
   God in them, then do so at once.

   But you say, “I can’t get out of my circumstances.” I reply, You can; you
   can get out of the wickedness of them; for if it is necessary in order to
   serve God, you can change them; and if not, you can repent and serve God in
   them.

   7. The sinner’s next excuse is that his temperament is peculiar. “Oh,” he
   says, I am very nervous; or my temperament is very sluggish I seem to have
   no sensibility.” Now what does God require? Does He require of you another
   or a different sensibility from your own? Or does He require only that you
   should use what you have according to the law of love?

   But such is the style of a multitude of excuses. One has too little
   excitement; another, too much; so neither can possibly repent and serve God!
   A woman came to me, and pleaded that she was naturally too excitable, and
   dared not trust herself; and therefore could not repent. Another has the
   opposite, trouble—too sluggish—scarce ever sheds a tear—and therefore could
   make nothing out of religion if he should try. But does God require you to
   shed more tears than you are naturally able to shed? Or does He only require
   that you should serve Him? Certainly this is all. Serve Him with the very
   powers He has given you. Let your nerves be ever so excitable, come and lay
   those quivering sensibilities over into the hands of God—pour out that
   sensibility into the heart of God! This is all that He requires. I know how
   to sympathize with that woman, for I know much about a burning sensibility;
   but does God require feeling and excitement? Or only a perfect consecration
   of all our powers to Himself?

   8. But, says another, my health is so poor that I can’t go to meeting, and
   therefore can’t be religious.

   Well, what does God require? Does He require that you should go to all the
   meetings, by evening or by day, whether you have the requisite health for it
   or not? Infinitely far from it. If you are not able to go to meeting, yet
   you can give God your heart. If you can not go in bad weather, be assured
   that God is infinitely the most reasonable being that ever existed. He makes
   all due allowance for every circumstance. Does He not know all your
   weakness? Indeed He does. And do you suppose that He comes into your
   sickroom and denounces you for not being able to go to meeting, or for not
   attempting when unable, and for not doing all in your sickness that you
   might do in health? No, not He; but He comes into your sick-room as a
   Father. He comes to pour out the deepest compassions of His heart in pity
   and in love; and why should you not respond to His loving-kindness? He comes
   to you and says, “Give me your heart, my child.” And now you reply, “I have
   no heart.” Then He has nothing to ask of you—He thought you had; and
   thought, too, that He had done enough to draw your heart in love and
   gratitude to Himself He asks, “What can you find in all my dealings with you
   that is grievous? If nothing, why do you bring forward pleas in excuse for
   sin that accuse and condemn God?”

   9. Another excuse is in this form, ”My heart is so hard, that I can not
   feel.” This is very common, both among professors and non-professors. In
   reality it is only another form of the plea of inability. In fact, all the
   sinner’s excuses amount only to this, “I am unable“, “I can’t do what God
   requires.” If the plea of a hard heart is any excuse at all, it must be on
   the ground of real inability.

   But what is hardness of heart? Do you mean that you have so great apathy of
   the sensibility that you can not get up any emotion? Or, do you mean that
   you have no power to will or to act right? Now on this point, it should be
   considered that the emotions are altogether involuntary.

   They go and come according to circumstances, and therefore are never
   required by the law of God, and are not, properly speaking, either religion
   itself, or any part of it. Hence, if by a hard heart you mean a dull
   sensibility, you mean what has no concern with the subject. God asks you to
   yield your will, and consecrate your affections to Himself, and He asks
   this, whether you have any feeling or not.

   Real hardness of heart, in the Bible use of the phrase, means stubbornness
   of will. So in the child, a hard heart means a will set in fixed
   stubbornness against doing its parent’s bidding. The child may have in
   connection with this, either much or little emotion. His sensibilities may
   be acute and thoroughly aroused, or they may be dormant; and yet the
   stubborn will may be there in either case.

   Now the hardness of heart of which God complains in the sinner is precisely
   of this sort. The sinner cleaves to his self-indulgence, and will not
   relinquish it, and then complains of hardness of heart. What would you think
   of a child, who, when required to do a most reasonable thing, should say,
   “My heart is so hard, I can’t yield.” “O,” he says, “my will is so set to
   have my own way that I cannot possibly yield to my father’s authority.”

   This complaint is extremely common. Many a sinner makes it, who has been
   often warned, often prayed with and wept over, who has been the subject of
   many convictions. And does he really mean by this plea that he finds his
   will so obstinate that he can not make up his mind to yield to God’s claims?
   Does he mean this, and does he intend really to publish his own shame?
   Suppose you go to the devils in hell, and press on them the claims of God,
   and they should reply, “O, my heart is so hard, I can’t”—what would be their
   meaning? Only this: I am so obstinate—my will is so set in sin, that I can
   not for a moment indulge the thought of repentance. This would be their
   meaning, and if the sinner tells the truth of himself, and uses language
   correctly, he must mean the same. But oh, how does he add insult to injury
   by this declaration! Suppose a child should plead this—I can not find it in
   my heart to love my father and my mother; my heart is so hard towards them;
   I never can love them; I can feel pleasure only in abusing them, and
   trampling down their authority. What a plea is this? Does not this heap
   insult upon wrong? Or suppose a murderer arraigned before the court, and
   permitted before his sentence to speak, if he had ought to say why sentence
   should not be passed: suppose he should rise and say, “May it please the
   court, my heart for a long time has been as hard as a millstone. I have
   murdered so many men, and have been in the practice so long, that I can kill
   a man without the least compunction of conscience. Indeed, I have such an
   insatiable thirst for blood that I can not help murdering whenever I have a
   good opportunity. In fact, my heart is so bard that I find I like this
   employment full as well as any other.”

   Well, how long will the court listen to such a plea? “Hold there! hold!” the
   judge would cry, “you infamous villain, we can hear no more such pleas!
   Here, sheriff, bring in a gallows, and hang the man within these very walls
   of justice, for I will not leave the bench until I see him dead! He will
   murder us all here in this house if he can!”

   Now what shall we think of the sinner who says the same thing? O God, he
   says, my heart is so hard I never can love Thee. I hate Thee so sincerely I
   never can make up my mind to yield this heart to Thee in love and willing
   submission.

   Sinners, how many of you (in this house) have made this plea, “My heart is
   so hard, I can’t repent. I can’t love and serve God!” Go write it down;
   publish it to the universe—make your boast of being so hard-hearted that no
   claims of God can ever move you. Methinks if you were to make such a plea,
   you would not be half through before the whole universe would hiss you from
   their presence and chase you from the face of these heavens till you would
   cry out for some rocks or mountains to hide you from their scathing rebukes!
   Their voice of indignation would rise up and ring along the arch of heaven
   like the roar of ten thousand tornadoes, and whelm you with unutterable
   confusion and shame! What, do you insult and abuse the Great Jehovah? Oh! do
   you condemn that very God who has watched over you in unspeakable
   love—fanned you with His gentle zephyrs in your sickness—feasted you at His
   own table, and you would not thank Him, or even notice His providing hand?
   And then when the sympathy of your Christian friends has pressed you with
   entreaties to repent, and they have made you a special subject of their
   prayers—when angels have wept over you, and unseen spirits have lifted their
   warning voices in your pathway to hell—you turn up your face of brass
   towards Jehovah, and tell Him your heart is so hard you can’t repent, and
   don’t care whether you ever do or not! You seize a spear and plunge it into
   the heart of the crucified One, and then cry out, “I can’t be sorry, not I;
   my heart is hard as a stone! I don’t care, and I will not repent What a
   wretch you are, sinner, if this is your plea.

   But what does your plea amount to? Only this—that your heart is fully set to
   do evil. The sacred writer has revealed your case most clearly, “Because
   vengeance against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the heart
   of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil.” You stand before the
   Lord just in this daring, blasphemous attitude fully set in your heart to do
   evil.

   10. Another form of the same plea is, My heart is so wicked

   I can’t. Some do not hesitate to avow this wickedness of heart. What do they
   mean by it? Do they mean that they are so hardened in sin, and so
   desperately wicked, that they will not bow? This is the only proper sense of
   their language, and this is the precise truth.

   Since you bring this forward, sinner, as your excuse, your object must be to
   charge this wickedness of heart upon God. Covertly, perhaps, but really, you
   imply that God is concerned in creating that wicked heart! This is it, and
   this is the whole of it. You would feel no interest in the excuse, and it
   would never escape your lips but for this tacit implication that God is in
   fault for your wicked heart. This is only the plea of inability, coupled
   with its twin sister, original sin, coming down in the created blood and
   veins of the race, under the Creator’s responsibility.

   11. Another kindred plea is My heart is so deceitful. Suppose a man should
   make this excuse for deceiving his neighbour, “I can’t help cheating you. I
   can’t help lying to you and abusing you; my heart is so deceitful! “Would
   any man in his senses ever suppose that this could be an apology or excuse
   for doing wrong? Never. Of course, unless the sinner means in this plea to
   set forth his own guilt and condemn himself, he must intend it as some sort
   of justification; and, if so, he must, in just so far, cast the blame upon
   God. And this is usually his intention. He does not mean sincerely to
   confess his own guilt; no, he charges the guilt of his deceitful heart upon
   God.

   12. Another excuses himself by the plea, I have tried to become a Christian.
   I have done all I can do; I have tried often, earnestly, and long.

   You have tried, then, you say, to be a Christian; what is being a Christian?
   Giving your heart to God. And what is giving your heart to God? Devoting
   your voluntary powers to Him; ceasing to live for yourself and living for
   God. This is being a Christian—the state you profess to have been trying to
   attain.

   No excuse is more common than this. And what is legitimately implied in this
   trying to be a Christian. A willingness to do your duty is always implied;
   that the heart, that is, the will is right already; and the trying refers
   only to the such a God! Why not say with the man who dreamed that he was
   just going to hell, and as he was parting with his brother—going, as his
   dream had it, to heaven, he said, “I am going down to hell, but I want you
   to tell God from me that I am greatly obliged to Him for ten thousand
   mercies which I never deserved; He has never done me the least injustice;
   give Him my thanks for all the unmerited good He has done me.” At this point
   he awoke, and found himself bathed in tears of repentance and gratitude to
   his Father in heaven. O, if men would only act as reasonably as that man
   dreamed, it would be noble—it would be right. If, when they suppose
   themselves to have sinned away the day of grace, they would say, “I know God
   is good—I will at least send Him my thanks—He has done me no injustice.” If
   they would take this course they might have at least the satisfaction of
   feeling that it is a reasonable and a fit one in their circumstances.
   Sinner, will you do this?

   14. Another, closely pressed, says, ”I have offered to give my heart to
   Christ, but He won’t receive me. I have no evidence that He receives me or
   ever will.“ In the last inquiry meeting, a young woman told me she had
   offered to give her heart to the Lord, but He would not receive her. This
   was charging the lie directly upon Christ, for He has said, “Him that cometh
   to Me, I will in no wise cast out.” You say, I came and offered myself, and
   He would not receive me. Jesus Christ says, “Behold I stand at the door and
   knock; if any man”—not if some particular, some favoured one—but if any man
   “hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to him.” And yet when you
   offered Him your heart, did He spurn you away? Did He say—Away, sinner,
   BEGONE? No, sinner, He never did it, never. He has said He never would do
   it. His own words are, “Him that cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast
   out.” ”He that seeketh, findeth: to him that knocketh it shall be opened.”
   But you say, I have sought and I did not find. Do you mean to make out that
   Jesus Christ is a liar? Have you charged this upon Him to His very face? Do
   you make your solemn affirmation, “Lord, I did seek—I laid myself at Thy
   gate and knocked—but all in vain?” And do you mean to bring this excuse of
   yours as a solemn charge of falsehood against Jesus Christ and against God?
   This will be a serious business with you before it is done with.

   15. But another says, ”There is no salvation for me.” Do you mean that
   Christ has made no atonement for you? But he says, He tasted death for every
   man. It is declared that God so loved the world that He gave His only
   begotten Son that whomsoever believeth on Him shall have eternal life. And
   now do you affirm that there is no salvation provided and possible for you,?
   Are you mourning all your way down to hell because you cannot possibly have
   salvation? When the cup of salvation is placed to your lips, do you dash it
   away, saying, That cannot be for me? And do you know this? Can you prove it
   even against the word of God Himself? Stand forth, then, if there be such a
   sinner on this footstool of God—speak it out, if you have such a charge
   against God, and if you can prove it true. Ah, is there no hope? none at
   all? Oh, the difficulty is not that there is no salvation provided for and
   offered to you, but that there is no heart for it. “Wherefore is there a
   price put into the hands of a fool to get wisdom, seeing he hath no heart
   for it?”

   16. But perhaps you say in excuse, “I cannot change my own heart.” Cannot?
   Suppose Adam had made this excuse when God called him to repent after his
   first sin. “Make you a new heart and a right spirit,” said the Lord to him.
   “I cannot change my own heart myself,” replies Adam. Indeed, responds his
   Maker, how long is it since you changed your heart yourself? You changed it
   a few hours ago from holiness to sin, and will you tell your Creator that
   you can’t change it from sin to holiness?

   The sinner should consider that the change of heart is a voluntary thing.
   You must do it for yourself or it is never done. True, there is a sense in
   which God changes the heart, but it is only this: God influences the sinner
   to change, and then the sinner does it. The change is the sinner’s own
   voluntary act.

   17. You say, again, you can’t change your heart without more conviction. Do
   1

   you mean by this that you have not knowledge enough of your duty and your
   sin? You cannot say this. You do know your sin and your duty. You know you
   ought to consecrate yourself to God. What, then, do you mean? Can’t you do
   that which you know you ought to do? Ah, there is the old lie—that shameless
   refuge of lies—that same foul dogma of inability. What is implied in this
   new form of it? This—that God is not willing to convict you enough to make
   it possible for you to repent. There is a work and a responsibility for God,
   and He will not do His work—will not bear His responsibility. Hence, you,
   alas, have no alternative but to go down to hell. And because God will not
   do His part towards your salvation! Do you really believe that, sinner.

   18. Again, you say in excuse, that you must first have more of the Spirit.
   And yet you resist the Spirit every day. God offers you His Spirit, nay,
   more, God bestows His Spirit but you resist it. What, then, do you mean when
   you pretend to want more of the Spirit’s influence?

   The truth is, you do not want it—you only want to make it appear that God
   does not do His part to help you to repent, and that as you can’t repent
   without His help, therefore the blame of your impenitence rests on God. It
   is only another refuge of lies—another form of the old slander upon God—He
   has made me unable and won’t help me out of my inability.

   19. The sinner also excuses himself by saying—God must change my heart. But
   in the sense in which God requires you to do it, He cannot do it Himself God
   is said to change the heart only in the sense of persuading you to do it. As
   in a man’s change of politics, one might say, “Such a man changed my
   heart—he brought me over,” which, however, by no means implies that you did
   not change your own mind. The plain meaning is that he persuaded, and you
   yielded.

   But this plea made by the sinner as his excuse implies that there is
   something more for God to do before the sinner can become religious. I have
   heard many professors of religion take this very ground. Yes, thousands of
   Christian ministers, too, have said to the sinner, “Wait for God He will
   change your heart in His own good time; you can’t do it yourself, and all
   that you can do is to put yourself in the way for the Lord to change your
   heart. When this time comes, He will give you a new heart, while you are
   asleep, perhaps, in a state of unconsciousness. God acts in this matter as a
   sovereign, and does His own work in His own way.

   So they teach—filling the mouth of the sinner with excuses and making his
   heart like an adamant against the real claims of God upon his conscience.

   2O. The sinner pleads, again ”I can’t live a Christian life if I were to
   become a Christian. It is unreasonable for me to expect to succeed where I
   see so many fail.” I recollect the case of a man who said, “It is of no use
   for me to repent and be a Christian, for it is altogether irrational for me
   to expect to do better than others have done before me.” So sinners who make
   this excuse come forward very modestly and tell God, “I am very humble; Thou
   seest, Lord, that I have a very low opinion of myself; I am so zealous of
   Thine honour, and so afraid that I shall bring disgrace upon Thy cause; it
   does not seem at all best for me to think of becoming a Christian, I have
   such a horror of dishououring Thy name.

   Yes; and what then? “Therefore, I will sin on and trample the blessed Gospel
   under my feet. I will persecute Thee, O my God, and make war on Thy cause,
   for it is better by far not to profess religion than to profess and then
   disgrace my profession.” What logic! Fair specimen of the absurdity of the
   sinner’s excuses.

   This excuse assumes that there is not grace enough provided and offered to
   sustain the soul in a Christian life. The doctrine is, that it is irrational
   to expect that we can, by any grace received in this life, perfectly obey
   the law of God. There is not. grace and help enough afforded by God! And
   this is taught as BIBLE THEOLOGY! Away with such teaching to the nether pit
   whence it came!

   What! is God so weak that He can’t hold up the soul that casts itself on
   Him? Or is He so parsimonious in bestowing His gracious aid that it must be
   expected always to fall short of meeting the wants of His dependent and
   depending child? So you seem to suppose. So hard to persuade the Lord to
   give you a particle of grace Can’t get grace enough to live a Christian life
   with honour What is this but charging God of withholding sufficient grace.

   But what say the word and the oath of Jehovah? We read that “God, willing
   more abundantly to show unto the heirs of promise the immutability of His
   counsel, confirmed it by an oath; that by two immutable things in which it
   is impossible for God to lie, we might have strong consolation who have fled
   for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us.” You say, however, “If I
   should flee and lay hold of this hope I should fail for want of grace. I
   could have no `consolation’ in reposing upon the word of Him who cannot lie.
   The oath of the immutable God can never suffice for me.”

   So you belie the word of God, and make up a miserably slim and guilty
   apology for your impenitence.

   21. Another excuse claims that this is a very dark, mysterious subject. This
   matter of faith and regeneration—I can’t understand it.

   Sinner, did you ever meet the Lord with this objection, and say, “Lord, Thou
   hast required me to do things which I can’t understand?” You know that you
   can understand well enough that you are a sinner—that Christ died for
   you—that you must believe on Him and break off your sins by repentance. All
   this is so plain that “the wayfaring man, though a fool, need not err
   therein.” Your plea, therefore, is as false as it is foul. It is nothing
   better than a base libel on God!

   22. But you say, ”I can’t believe.” You mean (do you?) that you can’t
   believe a God of infinite veracity as you can believe a fellow man? Would
   you imply that God asks you to believe things that are really
   incredible—things so revolting to reason that you cannot admit them on any
   testimony that even God himself can adduce?

   And do you expect to make out this case against God? Do you even believe the
   first point in it yourself?

   But you urge again that you can’t realize these things. You know these
   things to be true, but you can’t realize—you can’t realize that the Bible is
   true—that God does offer to forgive—that salvation is actually provided and
   placed within your reach. What help can there be for a case like yours? What
   can make these truths more certain? But, on your own showing, you do not
   want more evidence. Why not, then, act upon the known truth? What more can
   you ask?

   Do you ever carry your case before God and say, “O Lord, Thou sayest that
   Christ died for me, but I can’t realize that it is so; and, therefore, Lord,
   I can’t possibly embrace Him as my Saviour?” Would this be a rational
   excuse?

   But you also plead that you can’t repent. You can’t be sorry you have abused
   God. You can’t make up your mind now to break off from all sin. If this be
   really so, then you cannot make up your mind to obey God, and you may as
   well make up your mind to go to hell! There is no alternative!

   But at any rate, you can’t become a Christian now. You mean to be converted
   some time, but you can’t make up your mind to it Now. Well, God requires it
   now, and of course you must yield or abide the consequences.

   But do you say, You can’t now? Then God is very much to blame for asking it.
   If, however, the truth be that you can, then the lie is on your side, and it
   is a most infamous and abusive lie against your Maker.
     _________________________________________________________________

III. All excuses for sin add insult to injury.

   1. A plea that reflects injuriously upon the court or the lawgiver is an
   aggravation of the original crime. It is always so regarded in all
   tribunals. It must be pre-eminently so between the sinner and his infinite
   Lawgiver and Judge.

   2. The same is true of any plea made in self-justification. If it be false,
   it is considered an aggravation of the crime charged. This is a case which
   sometimes happens, and whenever it does, it is deemed to add fresh insult
   and wrong. For a criminal to come and spread out his lie upon the records of
   the court—to declare what he knows to be false; nothing can prejudice his
   case so fearfully.

   On the other hand, when a man before the court appears to be honest, and
   confesses his guilt, the judge, if he has any discretion in the case, puts
   down his sentence to the lowest point possible. But if the criminal resorts
   to dodging—if he equivocates and lies, then you will see the strong arm of
   the law come down upon him. The judge comes forth in all the thunders of
   judicial majesty and terror, and feels that he may not spare his victim.
   Why? The man has lied before the very court of justice. The man sets himself
   against all law, and he must be put down, or law itself is down.

   3. It is truly abominable for the sinner to abuse God, and then excuse
   himself for it. Ah, this is only the old way of the guilty. Adam and Eve in
   the garden fled and hid themselves when they heard the voice of the Lord
   approaching. And what had they done? The Lord calls them out and begins to
   search them: “Adam, what hast thou done? Has thou eaten of the forbidden
   tree in the centre of the garden?” Adam quailed, but fled to an excuse: “The
   woman whom Thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree and I did
   eat.” God, he says, gave him his tempter. God, according to his excuse, had
   been chiefly to blame in the transaction.

   Next He turns to the woman: “What is that thou hast done?” She, too, has an
   excuse: “The serpent beguiled me and I did eat.” Ah, this perpetual
   shuffling the blame back upon God! It has been kept up through the long line
   of Adam’s imitators down to this day. For six thousand years God has been
   hearing it, and still the world is spared, and the vengeance of God has not
   yet burst forth to smite all His guilty calumniators to hell! O! what
   patience in God! And who have ever abused His patience and insulted Him by
   their excuses more than sinners in this house?
     _________________________________________________________________

REMARKS

   1. No sinner under the light of the Gospel lives a single hour in sin
   without some excuse, either tacit or avowed, by which he justifies himself.
   It seems to be a law of man’s intelligent nature that when accused of wrong,
   either by his conscience or by any other agent, he must either confess or
   justify. The latter is the course taken by all impenitent sinners. Hence,
   the reason why they have so much occasion for excuses, and why they find it
   convenient to have so great a variety. It is remarkable with what facility
   they fly from one to another, as if these refuges of lies might make up in
   number what they lack in strength. Conscious that not one of all the
   multitude is valid in point of truth and right, they yet, when pressed on
   one, fly to another, and when driven from all in succession they are ready
   to come back and fight the same ground over again. It is so hard to abandon
   all excuses and admit the humbling truth that they themselves are all wrong
   and God all right.

   Hence, it becomes the great business of a Gospel minister to search out and
   expose the sinner’s excuses; to go all round and round, and, if possible,
   demolish the sinner’s refuges of lies, and lay his heart open to the shafts
   of truth.

   2. Excuses render repentance impossible. For excuses are justifications; and
   who does not know that justification is the very opposite of confession and
   repentance? To seek after and embrace excuses, therefore, is to place one’s
   self at the farthest possible remove from repentance.

   Of course the self-accusing sinner makes it impossible for God to forgive
   him. He places the Deity in such a position toward himself, and, I might
   say, places himself in such an attitude toward the government of God, that
   his forgiveness would be ruin to the very throne of God. What would heaven
   say, and hell too, and earth besides, if God were to forgive a sinner while
   he, by his excuses, is justifying himself and condemning his Maker?

   3. Sinners should lay all their excuses at once before God. Surely this is
   most reasonable. Why not? If a man owed me, and supposed he had a reasonable
   excuse for not paying the debt, he should come to me and let me understand
   the whole case. Perhaps he will satisfy me that his views are right.

   Now, sinner, have you ever done so in regard to God? Have you ever brought
   up one excuse before the Lord, saying, “Thou requirest me to be holy, but I
   can’t be; Lord, I have a good excuse for not obeying Thee?” No, sinner; you
   are not in the habit of doing this—probably you have not done it the first
   time yet in all your life. In fact, you have no particular encouragement to
   carry your excuses before God, for you have not one yet that you yourself
   believe to be good for anything except to answer the purpose of a refuge of
   lies. Your excuses won’t stand the ordeal of your own reason and conscience.
   How then can you hope they will stand before the searching eye of Jehovah?
   The fact that you never come with your excuses to God shows that you have no
   confidence in them.

   4. What infinite madness to rest on excuses which you dare not bring before
   God now! How can you stand before God in the judgment, if your excuses are
   so mean that you cannot seriously think of bringing one of them before God
   in this world? O, sinner, that coming day will be far more searching and
   awful than anything you have seen yet. See that dense mass of sinners drawn
   up before the great white throne—far as the eye can sweep they come surging
   up—a countless throng; and now they stand, and the awful trump of God
   summons them forward to bring forth their excuses for sin. Ho, sinners—any
   one of you, all—what have you to say why sentence should not be passed on
   you? Where are all those excuses you were once so free and bold to make?
   Where are they all? Why don’t you make them now? Hark! God waits; He
   listens; there is silence in heaven—all through the congregated throng—for
   half an hour—an awful silence that may be felt; but not a word—not a moving
   lip among the gathered myriads of sinners there; and now the great and
   dreadful Judge arises and lets loose His thunders. O, see the waves of dire
   damnation roll over the ocean—masses of self-condemned sinners! Did you ever
   see the judge rise from his bench in court to pass sentence of death on a
   criminal? There, see, the poor man reels—he falls prostrate—there is no
   longer any strength in him, for death is on him and his last hope has
   perished!

   O, sinner, when that sentence from the dread throne shall fall on thee! Your
   excuses are as millstones around your neck as you plunge along down the
   sides of the pit to the nethermost hell!

   5. Sinners don’t need their excuses. God does not ask for even one. He does
   not require you to justify yourself—not at all. If you needed them for your
   salvation I could sympathize with you, and certainly would help you all I
   could. But you don’t need them. Your salvation does not turn on your
   successful self-vindication. You need not rack your brain for excuses.
   Better say, I don’t want them—don’t deserve them—have not one that is worth
   a straw.

   Better say, ”I am wicked. God knows that’s the truth, and it were vain for
   me to attempt to conceal it. I AM WICKED, and if I ever live, it must be on
   simple mercy!”

   I can recollect very well the year I lived on excuses, and how long it was
   before I gave them up. I had never heard a minister preach on the subject. I
   found, however, by my experience, that my excuses and lies were the
   obstacles in the way of my conversion. As soon as I let these go utterly, I
   found the gate of mercy wide open. And so, sinner, would you.

   6. Sinners ought to be ashamed of their excuses, and repent of them. Perhaps
   you have not always seen this as plainly as you may now. With the light now
   before you it becomes you to beware. See to it that you never make another
   excuse, unless you intend to abuse God in the most horrible manner. Nothing
   can be a more grievous abomination in the sight of God than excuses made by
   a sinner who knows they are utterly false and blasphemous. O, you ought to
   repent of the insult you have already offered to God—and Now, too, lest you
   find yourself thrust away from the gate of mercy.

   7. You admit your obligation, and of course are estopped from making
   excuses. For if you have any good excuse, you are not under obligation. If
   any one of you has a good excuse for disobeying God, you are no longer under
   obligation to obey. But since you are compelled to admit obligation, you are
   also compelled to relinquish excuses.

   8. Inasmuch as you do and must admit your obligation, then if you still
   plead excuses you insult God to His face. You insult Him by charging Him
   with infinite tyranny.

   Now, what use do you calculate to make of this sermon? Are you ready to say,
   “I will henceforth desist from all my excuses, now and for ever; and God
   shall have my whole heart? What do you say? Will you set about to hunt up
   some new excuse? Do you at least say, “Let me go home first—don’t press me
   to yield to God here on the spot—let me go home and then I will?” Do you say
   this? And are you aware how tender is this moment—how critical this passing
   hour? Remember it is not I who press this claim upon you—but it is God. God
   Himself commands you to repent today—this hour. You know your duty—you know
   what religion is—what it is to give God your heart. And now I come to the
   final question: Will you do it? Will you abandon all your excuses, and fall,
   a self-condemned sinner, before a God of love, and yield to him
   yourself—your heart, and your whole being, henceforth and for ever? WILL YOU
   COME?
     _________________________________________________________________

                       VI. THE SINNER’S EXCUSES ANSWERED

   Elihu also proceeded and said, Suffer me a little, and I will shew thee that
   I have yet to speak on God’s behalf. I will fetch my knowledge from afar,
   and will ascribe righteousness to my Maker.”-Job xxxvi. 1-3

   ELIHU was present and heard the controversy between Job and his friends. The
   latter maintained that God’s dealings with Job proved him wicked. This Job
   denied, and maintained that we could not judge men to be good or bad, from
   God’s providential dealings with them, because facts show that the present
   is not a state of rewards and punishments. They, however, regarded this as
   taking part with the wicked, and hence did not shrink from accusing Job of
   doing this.

   Elihu had previously said—My desire is that Job may be tried in regard to
   what he has said of wicked men. But ere the discussion closed, he saw that
   Job had confounded his three friends, maintaining unanswerably that it was
   not because of any hypocrisy or special guilt that he was so signally
   scourged. Yet plainly even Job had not the key to explain the reason of
   God’s dealings with him. To him it was still a mystery. He did not see that
   God might have been seeking to test and discipline his piety, or even to
   make an example of his integrity and submissiveness to confound the devil
   with.

   Elihu purposed to speak in God’s behalf and ascribed righteousness to his
   Maker. It is my present object to do the same in regard to sinners who
   refuse to repent, and who complain of God’s ways. But before I proceed, let
   me advert to a fact. Some years since, in my labours as an evangelist, I
   became acquainted with a man prominent in the place of his residence for his
   general intelligence, and whose two successive wives were daughters of Old
   School Presbyterian clergymen. Through them he had received many books to
   read on religious subjects, which they and their friends supposed would do
   him good, but which failed to do him any good at all. He denied the
   inspiration of the Bible, and on grounds which those books did not in his
   view obviate at all. Indeed, they only served to aggravate his objections.

   When I came into the place, his wife was very anxious that I should see and
   converse with him. I called; she sent for him to come in and see the new
   minister; to which he replied that he was sure he could do him no good,
   since he had conversed with so many and found no light on the points that so
   much stumbled him; but upon her urgent entreaty, he consented for her sake
   to come in. I said to him in the outset, “Don’t understand me as having
   called here to have a quarrel with you, and provoke a dispute. I only wish
   at your wife’s request to converse with you, if you are perfectly willing,
   upon the great subject of divine resure to have such a conversation, and
   accordingly I asked him to state briefly his position. He replied “I admit
   the truths of natural religion, and believe most fully in the immortality of
   the soul, but not in the inspiration of the Scriptures. I am a Deist.” But,
   said I, on what ground do you deny the inspiration of the Bible? Said he, I
   know it cannot be true. How do you know that? It contradicts the
   affirmations of my reason. You admit and I hold that God created my nature,
   both physical and moral. Here is a book, said to be from God, but it
   contradicts my nature. I therefore know it cannot be from God.

   This of course opened the door for me to draw from him the particular points
   of his objection to the Bible as teaching what his nature contradicted.
   These points and my reply to them will constitute the body of my present
   discourse.

   1. The Bible cannot be true because it represents God as unjust. I find
   myself possessed of convictions as to what is just and unjust. These
   convictions the Bible outrages. It represents God as creating men and then
   condemning them for another’s sin.

   Indeed, said I, and where? Say, where does the Bible affirm this?

   Why, does it not? said he. No. Are you a Presbyterian? said he? Yes. He then
   began to quote the catechism. Stop, stop, said I, that is not, the Bible.
   That is only a human catechism. True, said he, but does not the Bible
   connect the universal sin of the race with the sin of Adam? Yes, said I, it
   does in a particular way, but it is quite essential to our purpose to
   understand in what way. The Bible makes this connection incidental and not
   direct; and it always represents the sinner condemned as really sinning
   himself, and as condemned for his own sin.

   But, continued he, children do suffer for their father’s sins. Yes said I,
   in a certain sense it is so, and must be so. Do you not see yourself,
   everywhere, that children must suffer for the sins of their parents? and he
   blessed also by the piety of their parents? You see this and you find no
   fault with it. You see that children must be implicated in the good or ill
   conduct of their parents; their relation as children makes this absolutely
   unavoidable. Is it not wise and good that the happiness or misery of
   children should depend on their parents, and thus become one of the
   strongest possible motives to them to train them up in virtue? Yet it is
   true that the son is never rewarded or punished punitively for his
   parents’ sins. The evil that befalls him through his connection with his
   parents is always disciplinary—never punitive.

   Again, he said, the Bible certainly represents God as creating men sinners,
   and as condemning them for their sinful nature. No, replied I; for the Bible
   defines sin as voluntary transgression of law, and it is absurd to suppose
   that a nature can be a voluntary transgressor. Besides, it is in the nature
   of the case impossible that God should make a sinful nature. It is in fact
   doubly impossible, for the thing is a natural impossibility, and if it were
   not, it would yet be morally impossible that be should do it. He could not
   do it for the same reason that He can not sin.

   In harmony with this is the fact that the Bible never represents God as
   condemning men for their nature, either here or at the judgment. Nowhere in
   the Bible is there the least intimation that God holds men responsible for
   their created nature, but only for the vile and pertinacious abuse of their
   nature. Other views of this matter, differing from this, are not the Bible,
   but are only false glosses put upon it usually by those whose philosophy has
   led them into absurd interpretations. Everywhere in the Bible men are
   condemned only for their voluntary sins, and are required to repent of these
   sins, and of these only. Indeed, there can possibly be no other sins than
   these.

   Again, it is said, the Bible represents God as being cruel, inasmuch as He
   commanded the Jews to wage a war of extermination against the ancient
   Canaanites.

   But why should this be called cruel? The Bible expressly informs us that God
   commanded this because of their awful wickedness. They were too awfully
   wicked to live. God could not suffer them to defile the earth and corrupt
   society. Hence He arose in His zeal for human welfare, and commanded to wash
   the land clean of such unutterable abominations. The good of the race
   demanded it. Was this cruel? Nay, verily, this was simply benevolent. It was
   one of the highest acts of benevolence to smite down such a race and sweep
   them from the face of the earth. And to employ the Jews as His executioners,
   giving them to understand distinctly why He commanded them to do it, was
   putting them in a way to derive the highest moral benefit from the
   transaction. In no other way could they have been so solemnly impressed with
   the holy justice of Jehovah. And now will any man find fault with God for
   this? None can do so, reasonably.

   But the Bible allows slavery.

   What? The Bible allow slavery? In what sense allow it? and under what
   circumstances? and what kind of slavery? These are all very important
   inquiries if we wish to know the certainty and the meaning of the things we
   say.

   The Bible did indeed allow the Jews, in the case of captives taken in war,
   to commute death for servitude. When the customs of existing nations put
   captives taken in war to death, God authorized the Jews in certain cases to
   spare their captives and employ them as servants. By this means they were
   taken out from among idolatrous nations and brought into contact with the
   worship and ordinances of the true God.

   Moreover, God enacted statutes for the protection of the Hebrew servant,
   which made his case infinitely better than being cut off in his sins. And
   who shall call this cruel? Jewish servitude was not American slavery, nor
   scarcely an approximation toward it. It would require too much time to go
   into the detail of this subject here. All that objected God is unmerciful,
   vindictive, and implacable. The gentleman to whom I have alluded said—I
   don’t believe the Bible is from God when it represents Him as so vindictive
   and implacable that He would not forgive sin until He had first taken
   measures to kill His own Son.

   Now it was by no means unnatural that, under such instructions he had
   received, he should think so. I had felt so myself. This very objection had
   stumbled me. But I afterwards saw the answer so plainly that it left nothing
   more to be desired. The answer indeed is exceedingly plain. It was not an
   implacable disposition in God which led Him to require the death of Christ
   as the ground of forgiveness. It was simply his benevolent regard for the
   safety and blessedness of His kingdom. He knew very well that it was unsafe
   to forgive sin without such a satisfaction. Indeed, this was the strongest
   possible exhibition of a forgiving disposition, to consent to the sacrifice
   of His Son for this purpose. He loved His Son, and certainly would not
   inflict one needless pang upon Him. He also loved a sinning race, and saw
   the depth of that ruin toward which they were rushing. Therefore He longed
   to forgive them, and to prepare a way in which He could do so with safety.
   He only desired to avoid all misapprehension. To forgive without such
   atonement as would adequately express His abhorrence of sin, would leave the
   intelligent universe to think that He did not care how much any beings
   should sin. This would not do.

   Let it be considered also that the giving up of Jesus Christ was only a
   voluntary offering on God’s part to sustain law, so that He could forgive
   without peril to His government. Jesus was not in any sense punished; He
   only volunteered to suffer for sinners that they might be freed from the
   governmental necessity of suffering. And was not mercy manifested in this?
   Certainly. How could it be manifested more signally?

   But, says the objector, God is unjust, inasmuch as He requires
   impossibilities on pain of endless death.

   Does He, indeed? Then where? In the law, is it, or in the Gospel? In these
   taken together we have the aggregate of all God’s requirements. In what
   part, then, of either law or Gospel do you find the precept contained which
   requires impossibilities? Is it in the law? But the law says only Thou shall
   love the Lord thy God with all thy heart;” not with another man’s heart, but
   simply with thine own; only with all thine own heart, not with more than
   all. Read on still further: “and with all thy strength.” Not with the
   strength of an angel—not with the strength of any other being than thyself,
   and only with such an amount of strength as you actually have for the time
   being. The demands of the law, you see, exactly meet your ability; nothing
   more and nothing else.

   Indeed, said he, this is a new view of the subject. Well but is not this
   just as it should be? Does not the law carry with it, its own vindication in
   its very terms? How can any one say that the law requires of us impossible
   service—things we have no power to do? The fact is, it requires us to do
   just what we can and nothing more. Where, then, is this objection to the
   Bible? Where is the impossibility of which you speak?

   But, resumed he, is it not true that “no mere man since the fall has been
   able wholly to keep the commandments of God, but doth daily break them in
   thought, word, and deed?”

   Ah, my friend, that’s catechism, not Bible; we must be careful not to impute
   to the Bible all that human catechisms have said. The Bible only requires
   you to consecrate to God what strength and powers you actually have, and is
   by no means responsible for the affirmation that God requires of man more
   than he can do. No, verily, the Bible nowhere imputes to God a requisition
   so unreasonable and cruel. No wonder the human mind should rebel against
   such a view of God’s law. If any human law were to require impossibilities,
   there could be no end to the denunciations that must fall upon it. No human
   mind could possibly approve of such a law. Nor can it be supposed that God
   can reasonably act on principles which would disgrace and ruin any human
   government.

   But, resumed he, here is another objection. The Bible represents men as
   unable to believe the Gospel unless they are drawn by God, for it reads, “No
   man can come to me except the Father who hath sent me draw him.” Yet sinners
   are required to believe on pain of damnation. How is this?

   To this the reply is, first, the connection shows that Christ referred to
   drawing by means of teaching or instruction; for to confirm what He had
   said, He appeals to the ancient scriptures, “It is written, They shall all
   be taught of God.” Without this teaching, then, none can come. They must
   know Christ before they can come to Him in faith. They cannot believe till
   they know what to believe. In this sense of coming, untaught heathen are not
   required to come. God never requires any to come, who have not been taught.
   Once taught, they are bound to come, may be and arefuse.

   But, replied he, the Bible does really teach that men cannot serve the Lord,
   and still it holds them responsible for doing it. Joshua said to all the
   people, “Ye cannot serve the Lord, for He is an holy God.”

   Let us see. Joshua had called all the people together and had laid before
   them their obligation to serve the Lord their God. When they all said so
   readily and with so little serious consideration that they would, Joshua
   replied, “Ye cannot serve the Lord for He is a holy God; He is a jealous
   God; He will not forgive your transgressions nor your sins.” What did he
   mean? Plainly this—Ye cannot serve God, because you have not heartily
   abandoned your sins. You cannot get along with a God so holy and so jealous,
   unless you give up sinning. You cannot serve God with a selfish heart. You
   cannot please Him till you really renounce your sins altogether. You must
   begin by making to yourselves a new heart. Joshua doubtless saw that they
   had not given up their sins and had not really begun to serve God at all,
   and did not even understand the first principles of true religion. This is
   the reason why he seemed to repulse them so suddenly. It is as if he would
   say— Stop; you must go back and begin with utterly putting away all your
   sins. You cannot serve a holy and jealous God in any other way, for He will
   not go along with you as His people if you persist in sinning against Him.

   It is a gross perversion of the Bible to make it mean that men have no power
   to do what God requires. It is true indeed, that in this connection it
   sometimes uses the words can and can not, but these and similar words should
   be construed according to the nature of the subject. All reasonable men
   construe thus intuitively in all common use of language. The Bible always
   employs the language of common life and in the way of common usage. Hence it
   should be thus interpreted.

   When it is said that Joseph’s brethren hated him and could not speak
   peaceably to him, the meaning is not that their organs of speech could not
   articulate kind words; but it points us to a difficulty in the heart. They
   hated him so badly they could not speak pleasantly. Nor does the sacred
   historian assume that they could not at once subdue this hatred and treat
   Joseph as brother should treat brother. The sacred writers are the last men
   in the world to apologize for sin on this wise.

   There is the case of the angels sent to hasten Lot out of guilty Sodom. One
   said, “Haste thee escape thither, for I can not do anything until thou be
   come thither.” Does this mean that the Almighty God had no power to
   overwhelm Sodom so long as Lot was in it? Certainly not. It meant only that
   it was His purpose not to destroy the city till Lot was out. Indeed, all men
   use language thus in common life. You go into one of our village stores and
   say to the merchant, Can you lift a ton of your goods at once? No. Can you
   sell me that piece of cloth for a shilling a yard? No. Does this it can mean
   the same as the other? By no means. But how is it that you detect the
   difference? How is it that you come to know so readily which is the physical
   cannot and which the moral? The nature of the subject tells you.

   But, you say, the same word ought always to mean the same thing. Well, if it
   ought to, it does not, in any language ever yet spoken by man. And yet there
   is no difficulty in understanding even the most imperfect of human languages
   if men are honest in speaking and honest in hearing, and will use their
   common sense. They intuitively construe language according to the nature of
   the subject spoken of

   The Bible always assumes that sinners can not do right and please God with a
   wicked heart. It always takes the ground that God abhors hypocrisy—that He
   can not be satisfied with mere forms and professions of service when the
   heart is not in it, and hence that all acceptable service must begin with
   making a new and sincere heart.

   But here is another difficulty. Can I make to myself a new heart?

   Yes, and you could not doubt but that you could, if you only understood what
   the language means. and what the thing is.

   See Adam and Eve in the garden. What was their heart? Did God create it? No;
   it is not possible that He should, for a heart in this sense is not the
   subject of physical creation. When God made Adam, giving him all the
   capacities for acting morally, he had no heart good or bad until he came to
   act morally. When did he first have a moral heart? When he first waked to
   moral consciousness and gave his heart to God. When first he saw God
   manifested, and put confidence in Him as his Father, and yielded up his
   heart to Him in love and obedience. Observe, he first had this holy heart
   because he yielded up his will to God in entire consecration. This was his
   first holy heart.

   But at length the hour of temptation came, alluring him to withdraw his
   heart from God and turn to pleasing himself. To Eve the tempter said “Hath
   God indeed said—Ye shall not surely die? “Ah, is that so? Then he raised the
   question either as to the fact that God had really threatened death for sin,
   or as to the justice of doing so. In either case it raised a question about
   obedience and opened the heart to temptation. Then that fruit came before
   her mind. It was fair and seemed good for food. Her appetite enkindles and
   clamours for indulgence. Then, it was said to be fitted to “make one
   wise,” and by eating it she might “be as the gods, knowing good and evil.”
   This appealed to her curiosity. Yielding to this temptation and making up
   her mind to please herself, she made herself a new heart of sin; she changed
   her heart from holiness to sin, and fell from her first moral position. When
   Adam yielded to temptation, he made the same change in his heart; he gave
   himself up to selfishness and sin. This accounts for all future acts of
   selfishness in after life.

   Adam and Eve are again brought before God. God says to Adam—Give me thy
   heart. Change your heart. What! says Adam, I cannot change my own heart! But
   God replies, How long is it since you have done it? It is but yesterday that
   you changed your own heart from holiness to sin; why can’t you change it
   back?

   So in all cases. Changing the ruling preference, the governing purpose of
   the mind, is the thing, and who can say, I cannot do that. Cannot you do
   that? Cannot you give yourself to God?

   The reason you cannot please God in your executive acts, is that your
   governing purpose is not right. While your leading motive is wrong, all you
   do is selfish, because it is all done for the single object of pleasing
   yourself. You do nothing for the sake of pleasing God, and with the
   governing design and purpose of doing all His holy will; hence all you do,
   even your religious duties, only displease God. If the Bible had anywhere
   represented God as being pleased with your hypocritical services it would be
   proven false, for this is perfectly impossible.

   But you say, the Bible requires me to begin with the inner man—the heart—and
   you say yon cannot get at this; that you cannot reach your own heart or will
   to change it.

   Indeed, you are entirely mistaken. This is the very thing that is most
   entirely within your power. Of all things conceivable, this is the very
   thing that you can do most certainly—that is most absolutely within your
   power. If God had made your salvation turn upon your walking across the
   room, you might not be able to do it; or if upon lifting your eyelids or
   rising from your seat, or any the least movement of your muscles, you might
   be utterly unable to do it. You could will the motion required, and you
   could try; but the muscles might have no power to act. You often think that
   if God had only conditioned your salvation upon some motions of your
   muscles, it would have been so easy; if He had only asked you to control the
   outside; but, oh, you say, how can I control the inside? The inside is the
   very thing you can move and control. If it had been the outside, you might
   strive and groan till you die, and not be able to move a muscle, even on
   pain of an eternal hell. But now inasmuch as God only says, “Change your
   will,” all is brought within your control. This is just the thing you always
   can do; you can always move your will. You can always give your heart, at
   your own option. Where, then, is your difficulty and objection? God requires
   you to act with your freedom; to exercise the powers of free voluntary
   action that He has given you. He asks you to put your hand on the
   fountainhead of all your own power, to act just where your central power
   lies—where YOU ALWAYS HAVE POWER so long as you have a rational mind and a
   moral nature. Your liberty does not consist in a power to move your muscles
   at pleasure, for the connection between your muscles and your will may be
   broken, and at all events is always necessary when your body is in its
   normal state; therefore God does not require you to perform any particular
   movement of the muscles, but only to change your will. This, compared with
   all other things, is that which you can always do, and can do more surely
   than anything else.

   Again, considering volitions as distinct from ultimate purposes, and as
   standing next before executive acts, it is not volitions that God requires,
   but He lays His requisition directly upon the ultimate purposes. The
   ultimate purposes being given, these subordinate volitions follow naturally
   and necessarily. Your liberty, therefore, does not, strictly speaking, lie
   in these subordinate volitions—such as the volition to sit, to walk, to
   speak. But the ultimate purpose controlling all volition, and relating to
   the main object you shall pursue, as, for example, whether you shall in all
   things strive to please God, or, on the other hand, strive to please
   yourself; this being the precise point wherein your liberty of free action
   lies, is the very point upon which God lays his moral requisitions. The
   whole question is, will you please God, or please yourself? Will you give
   your heart to Him, or give it to your own selfish enjoyment?

   go long as you give your heart to selfish pleasure and withhold it from God,
   it will be perfectly natural for you to sin. This is precisely the reason
   why it is so natural for sinners to sin. It is because the will, the heart,
   is set upon it, and all they have to do is to carry out this ruling
   propensity and purpose. But, just change this governing purpose, and you
   will find obedience equally natural and equally easy in all its executive
   acts. It will then become natural to please God in everything. Now pleasing
   yourself is natural enough. Why? Because you are consecrated to pleasing
   yourself. But change this purpose; make a new and totally opposite
   consecration; reverse the committed heart, and let it be for God and not for
   self; then all duty will be easy for the same reason that all sin is so easy
   now.

   So far is it from being true that you are unable to make your heart new, the
   fact is you would long ago have done it if you had not resisted God in His
   efforts to move you to repentance. Do you not know that you have often
   resisted God’s Spirit? You know it well. So clear were your convictions that
   you ought to live for God, you had to resist every appeal of your own
   conscience, and march right in the face of known duty, and press your way
   along directly against God. If you had only listened to the voice of your
   reason, and to the demands of your conscience, you would have had a new
   heart long ago. But you resisted God when He tried to persuade you to have a
   new heart. O, sinner, how strong you have been to resist God! How strong to
   resist every consideration addressed to your intelligence and to your
   reason! How strangely have you listened to the considerations for sinning!
   O, the miserable petty things—tell me, what were they? Suppose Christ should
   question you, and ask—What is there in earth that you should love it so
   well? What in sin that you should prize it above my favour and my love? What
   are those little indulgences—those very small things that always perish with
   the using? Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. Most utterly contemptible! You
   have been holding on to sin with no reasonable motive for so doing. But O,
   consider what motives you have fought against and resisted—motives of almost
   infinite force! Think of the motives resulting from God’s law—so excellent
   in itself, but so dreadful in its penalties against transgressors; and then
   think also of God’s infinite love in the Gospel; how he opened the
   life-tides of His great heart, and let blessings flow with fullness like a
   God! Yet consider how, despite of this love, you have abused your God
   exceedingly. You have gone on as if the motives to sin were all-persuasive,
   and as if sin’s promises of good were more reliable than God’s. When God
   spread out before you the glories of heaven, made all attractive and
   delightful in the beauties of holiness, you coolly replied-Earth is far
   better! Give me earth while I can have it, and heaven only when I can have
   earth no longer! O, sinner, you would have been converted a long time ago if
   you had not opposed God and trodden under foot His invitations and His
   appeals.

   O, what a thing is this moral agency! How awful its power, and how
   momentous, therefore, must be its responsibilities. When God is pouring
   forth influences in waves of light and power, with a kind of moral
   omnipotence, you resist and withstand all! As if you could do anything you
   pleased despite of God! As if His influence were almost utterly powerless to
   move your heart from its fixed purpose to sin!

   Does it require great strength to lay down your weapons? Indeed, this is
   quite a new thing; for one would suppose it must rather require great
   strength to resist and to fight. And so you put forth your great strength in
   fighting against God, and would fain believe that you have not got strength
   enough to lay your weapons down! O, the absurdity of sin and of the
   sinner’s apology for sinning!

   But you say—I must have the Holy Ghost. I answer, Yes; but only to overcome
   your voluntary opposition. That is all.

   After I had gone over this ground with my friend, as I have already
   explained, he became very much agitated. The sweat started from every pore;
   his feelings overcame him; he dropped his head down upon his knees, buried
   in intensest thought and full of emotion. I rose and went to the meeting.
   After it had progressed awhile he came in; but O, how changed! Said he,
   “Dear wife, I don’t know what has become of my infidelity. I ought to be
   sent to hell! What charges I have been making against God! And yet with what
   amazing mercy did my God bear with me and let me live!” In fact, he found he
   had been all wrong and he broke all down and became as a little child before
   God.

   And you, too, sinner, know you ought to live for God, yet you have not; you
   know that Jesus made Himself an offering to the injured dignity of that law
   which you violated, yet you have rejected Him. He gave Himself a voluntary
   offering, not to suffer the penalty of the law, but as your legal
   substitute; and shall He have done all this in vain? Do you say, “O, I’m so
   prejudiced against God and the Bible!” What, so prejudiced that you will not
   repent? How horrible! O let it suffice that you have played the fool so long
   and erred so exceedingly. It has been all wrong! At once return and devote
   yourself to God. Why should you live to yourself at all? You can get no good
   so!

   Come to God—He is so easily pleased! It is so much easier to please Him than
   to please and satisfy yourself. The veriest little child can please Him.
   Children often have the most delightful piety, because it is so
   simple-hearted. They know what to do to please God, and, meaning honestly to
   please Him, they can not fail. No matter how simple-hearted they are, if
   they mean to please God, they surely will.

   And can not you at least do so much as honestly to choose and aim to please
   God?
     _________________________________________________________________

                           VII. ON REFUGES OF LIES.
     _________________________________________________________________

   “Judgment also will I lay to the line, and righteousness to the plummet, and
   the hail shall sweep away the refuge of lies, and the waters shall overflow
   the hiding place.”-Isaiah xxviii. 17.

   ALL men know themselves to be sinners against God. They know also, that, as
   sinners, they are in peril and are not safe. Hence their anxiety to find
   some refuge for They know they might find this in the way of forsaking sin
   and turning to the Lord; but they do not choose to forsake their sins. Hence
   there seems to be no convenient resource but to hide themselves under some
   refuge.

   Our text speaks of “the refuge of lies.” Yet it is obvious that men who
   resort to lies for a refuge regard those lies not as lies, but as truth.
   This fact leads us to raise the primary fundamental question—Have we any
   rule or standard which will show what is truth, and what is falsehood? Men
   have countless opinions about religion; these can not all be true; how can
   we determine which are true and which not true?

   We have an infallible test.

   Salvation, to be real and available, must be salvation from sin. Everything
   else fails. Any system of religion which does not break the power of sin, is
   a lie. If it does not expel selfishness and lust, and if it does not beget
   love to God and man, joy, peace, and all the fruits of the Spirit, it is
   false and worthless. Any system that fails in this vital respect is a
   lie—can be of no use—is no better than a curse.

   That which does not, beget in us the spirit of heaven and make us like God,
   no matter whence it comes, or by what sophistry defended, is a lie, and if
   fled to as a refuge, it is a “refuge of lies.”

   Again, if it does not beget prayer, does not unify us with God, and bring us
   into fellowship and sympathy with Him, it is a lie.

   If it does not produce a heavenly mind, and expel a worldly mind, and wean
   us from the love of the world, it is a lie. If it does not beget in us the
   love required in the Scriptures, the love of God and of His worship and of
   His people—indeed, of all mankind: if it does not produce all those states
   of mind which fit the soul for heaven, it fails utterly of its purpose.

   Here I must stop a moment to notice an objection. It is said, “The Gospel
   does not, in fact, do for men all you claim. It does not make professed
   Christians heavenly-minded, dead to the world, full of love, joy, and
   peace.”

   I reply: Here is medicine which, applied in a given disease, will certainly
   cure. This healing power is just what it has and what we claim for it. But
   it must be fairly applied.

   A man may buy the medicine, and because it is bitter, may lay it up in his
   cupboard and never take it; he may provide himself with a counterfeit to
   take in its stead; or he may follow it with something that will instantly
   counteract its influence in the system. In any such case, the efficacy of
   the medicine is not disproved; you only prove that you have not used it
   fairly and honestly.

   So with the Gospel. You must take it and use it according to directions;
   else its failure is not its fault, but yours.

   It is of no avail, then, to say that the Gospel does not save men from sin.
   It may indeed be counterfeited; it may be itself rejected; but he who
   receives it to his heart will surely find his heart blessed thereby. The
   Gospel does transform men from sin to holiness—does make men peaceful, holy,
   heavenly, in life and in death. Millions of such cases lie out on the face
   of the world’s history. Their lives evince the reality and preciousness of
   the salvation which the Gospel promises.

   I will now proceed to name some things that lack this decisive
   characteristic. They do not save the soul from sin.

   1. An unsanctifying hope of heaven. Speaking of what God’s children shall
   be, John says “We know that when He shall appear we shall be like Him, for
   we shall see Him as He is. And every man that hath this hope in him (Christ)
   purifieth himself even as He is pure.” A good hope, then, does purify the
   heart. But there certainly are hopes indulged that fail to purify the heart
   of those who hold them. Those hopes are lies. They cannot possibly be sound
   and true. On their very face, it stands revealed that they are worthless—a
   mere refuge of lies. The stronger and more unwavering they are, so much the
   more are they delusive. What hope in Christ is that which does not bring the
   heart to Christ?

   2. An old experience, that is all old, is a lie. You have, perhaps, heard of
   the man who had his old experience all written down and laid away with his
   deeds of land to keep till his time of need. This being all the evidence he
   had, he used to refer to it from time to time for his comfort. At length,
   when the time came for him to die, he felt the need of this record of his
   religion, and sent his little daughter to bring it. She returned with only
   the sad story that the mice had found their way to his drawer and had eaten
   up the paper—all the dying man’s evidence of piety! Alas! he must die in
   despair! He had no other hope but this! On the face of it, such a refuge is
   only lies.

   3. There are two forms of self-righteousness—the legal and the Gospel—both
   of which are refuges of lies.

   The legal depends on duty—doing—evermore trying to work out salvation by
   deeds of law. The Gospel form sets itself to get grace by works. Men try to
   get a new heart not by trying to turn from all sin, but by praying for it. I
   meet such a man. He says, “I tried to become religious.” Indeed, and, what
   did you do? “I prayed for a new heart.” You did! But you did not do what God
   says you must “Make yourself a new heart and a new spirit; “you did not
   repent—you did not bow your heart to God. Therefore, all your doings come
   short of what God requires. They fail of saving the soul from sin.

   There is a great deal of this Gospel self-righteousness—this throwing off
   the responsibility upon God.

   4. Universalism is an old refuge of lies. And here let me give you a case.
   Being out from home in my carriage, I overtook a young man and invited him
   to ride. Almost immediately he told me he was a Universalist and came out
   strongly in defence of his system. I said to him, “I am not well and may not
   live long, and I do not dare to be deceived in this matter.” He said for his
   part he was sure enough of its truth. He had heard smart men say so, and
   prove it from Scripture. I said to him—I have one objection. There is a
   certain train of facts which I cannot account for, if Universalism be true.
   I have known families once reputed orthodox, which were then upright, moral,
   and justly respected. These same families I have known become loose in
   morals, forsake the house of God, turn to strong drink, and become fearfully
   vicious. Such families I have observed along with this change almost always
   become Universalists. This is one set of facts.

   On the other hand, I have never known a holy, prayerful Universalist
   backslide into orthodoxy—forsake his Universalism and his morality and
   degenerate into vice and orthodoxy by one uniform and simultaneous
   declension. I have known men reformed from drunkenness and vice, and then
   become orthodox; but I have never known men reform from vice into
   Universalism. In short, it seems to me that thousands of facts evince a
   natural sympathy between vice and Universalism on the one hand, and between
   virtue and orthodoxy on the other.

   By this time, he began to feel troubled, and said, “I am afraid I am all
   wrong. Would you believe it?” said he, “I am running away from being
   converted. There is a revival in my place, and I am running away from it.”
   You are said I. And do you think it will hurt you? Will it do you any harm?

   He looked deeply anxious and said, “Had not I better go back? My good father
   and mother looked sad when I left my home. I don’t believe Universalism can
   save me. Everybody knows it never did save anybody and never can.”

   The same must be said of proper Unitarianism. Some who bear this name are
   not such in fact. But where you find men who deny depravity, regeneration,
   atonement, you will certainly find that their system does not make them
   heavenly-minded, holy and humble. You need not reason with them to find this
   out; you need only to take the facts of their history.

   So of Davisism—the doctrines of Andrew Jackson Davis. Do these doctrines
   make men holy? Never.

   I have known a man, once a friend and patron of Gospel reforms, who turned
   back to Andrew Jackson Davis. Did this change make him more holy? No,
   indeed. He said, “It makes me more happy.” No doubt; and for the reason that
   before he was only and always under, conviction, never enjoying the peace of
   the Gospel. What is the use of reasoning about his Universalism? Look at the
   facts! They alone are sufficient to show its utter falsehood. Universalism
   never saved any man from sin. It throws no influence in that direction. So
   of Mormonism, and all similar delusions. We need not stop to write books
   against this and such like lies—it stands out on the fore-front of this
   system that it saves no man from sin. It is therefore a refuge of
   lies—deceiving men into hopes that can never be realized. So of every creed
   and system that does not save men from sin and fit them for heaven.

   And now let my hearers take notice of what God says. He declares, “The hail
   shall sweep away the refuge of lies and the waters shall overflow the
   hiding-place.” No doubt this hail is the symbol of God’s displeasure. It is
   fit that God should be displeased with these refuges of lies. He loves truth
   too well to have the least sympathy with lies. He loves the souls of men too
   deeply to have any patience with agencies so destructive. Therefore, He
   loathes all these refuges of lies, and has solemnly declared that the hail
   shall sweep them all away.

   The waters, He declares, shall overflow the hiding-places. Every resort that
   leaves the soul in sin is a hiding-place. All religious affectation is such,
   and is nothing better. To put on the mere appearance of devoutness and
   sanctimony, as if God could be made to believe you sincere and could not see
   through it all. This is a flimsy hiding-place indeed. So of all religious
   formality—going through the forms of worship, being in the Church, being
   baptized —what avails it all unless their piety be instinct with life and
   that life be the soul of real holiness?

   A great many people hide in the church. Judas Iscariot crept in there to
   hide. A minister of the Dutch Reformed Church told me once of a case in
   point just here. A man who had been confirmed in that church was out at sea
   in a fearful storm. It was a time of intense alarm, and many were
   exceedingly fearful of death, not to say also of that terrible state beyond.
   When they said to him, How is it that you are so cool? He replied, “What
   have I to fear—I belong to the South Dutch!”

   Many hide under orthodox creeds. They are not Unitarians; they are not
   Mormons; they are not Universalists; they are orthodox! Such religious
   opinions held so tenaciously must, they think, ensure their safety.

   Others hide under the plea of a sinful nature. They are naturally unable to
   do anything. Here they have found a sure retreat. They are very willing to
   do all their duty; but this sinful nature is all against them, and what can
   they do? This is a refuge of lies.

   Some dodge under professors of religion. I fear there are many such here
   among us. Alas, your hiding-place will fail you in the day of trial! When
   the hail comes and the storm rolls up fearfully, and the awful thunder
   breaks with appalling crash, you will try in vain to find your professor—to
   hide under his wing! Where is he now? Suppose he were as bad as you claim,
   how much can he help you in that all-devouring storm? If he is not as good
   as he should be, you ought to be better than he, and not try to hide
   yourself under his shortcomings.
     _________________________________________________________________

REMARKS.

   Sinners know these things to be refuges of lies, because they do not save
   men from their sins. Certainly they must see this and know it to be the
   truth.

   They resort to these refuges, not as being quite fully true, but as an
   excuse for delay. Miserable subterfuge, this. They are not honest, and
   therefore need not think it strange if they are deluded.

   They admit that if one lives like Christ, all will be well; and they know
   that nothing less than this will avail for their safety.

   Of course, to seek a refuge of lies is to tempt God to destroy you. How can
   it be otherwise?

   Remember the test—this one plain simple principle: That and only that which
   saves from sin is true; all else is false and ruinous. Now you all have some
   hope of a happy future; what is this hope? Good or bad? Is it truthful and
   sure, or is it a refuge of lies?

   Does your hope sanctify you—does it make you humble, holy, prayerful? Does
   your faith purify your heart? Have you the fruits of the Spirit—love, joy,
   peace, long-suffering? Have you daily communion with God? Are you so united
   to Him that you can say—Truly we have fellowship with the Father? If so,
   this will be a hiding-place indeed—not one which the hail shall sweep away,
   but one which shall save the soul.

   Have you the life of God in your soul? Does it pervade your heart, and
   diffuse itself over all the chambers of your soul? Let nothing less than
   this avail to satisfy your mind.

   Hear Catholics talk about the Virgin and the sacraments and absolution; what
   are all these things, and a thousand more such, good for if they do not save
   from sin? What is the use of running after these things that do not save?

   But you say—I love to believe that all will be saved; it makes me so happy.
   But does it make you holy? Does it renew your heart? This is the only sure
   test.

   But you say, “I do not believe as you do.” I answer, here are great facts.
   You are in sin. Are you saved from your sin by your system? If so, well; if
   not so, then it is not well. Will your believing it to be one way or the
   other make it so? Does believing a lie make it the truth? If you were to
   believe that you could walk on the water, or that water could not drown you,
   and should leap overboard, would your belief save you?

   Dying sinner, all those refuges of lies will surely deceive and destroy you.
   It is time for you to arise and say—I must have the religion of Jesus. Not
   having it, I can not go where Jesus is. With a lie in my right hand, what
   have I to hope for? None of you, I hope, have reached that forlorn state
   described by the prophet, “A deceived heart hath turned him aside, neither
   can he say to his soul, There is a lie in my right hand.”

   O, sinner, there is a Refuge for you which is not one of lies. There is a
   Hiding-place for you which no waters can reach to overwhelm. It lies far
   above their course. O, take refuge in Christ! away with these refuges of
   lies! Cry out—Give me Christ and none besides! Christ and Him only—for what
   have I to do with lies and delusions? You need to come into such communion
   with Christ that His power and presence and fullness shall flow through your
   heart fully and freely, and be in you a well of water springing up into
   everlasting life.
     _________________________________________________________________

                    VIII. THE WICKED HEART SET TO DO EVIL.
     _________________________________________________________________

   “Because sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore
   the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil.”-Eccl. viii.
   11.

   THIS text manifestly assumes that the present is not a state of rewards and
   punishments, in which men are treated according to their character and
   conduct. This fact is not indeed affirmed, but it is assumed, as it is also
   everywhere throughout the Bible. Everybody knows that ours is not a state of
   present rewards and punishments; the experience and observation of every man
   testifies to this fact with convincing power, Hence it is entirely proper
   that the Bible should assume it as a known truth. Every man who reads his
   Bible must see that many things in it are assumed to be true, and that these
   are precisely those things which every man knows to be true, and which none
   could know more certainly if God had affirmed them on every page of the
   Bible. In the case of this truth, every man knows that he is not himself
   punished as he has deserved to be in the present Every man sees the same
   thing in the case of his neighbors. The Psalmist was so astounded by the
   manifest injustice of things in this world, as between the various lots of
   the righteous and of the wicked, that he was greatly stumbled, “until,” says
   he, “I went into the sanctuary of God; then understood I their end.”

   It is also assumed in this passage that all men have by nature a common
   heart. One general fact is asserted of them all, and in this way they are
   assumed to have a common character. “The heart of the sons of men is fully
   set in them to do evil.” So elsewhere. “God saw that every imagination of
   the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.” This is the common
   method in which God speaks of sinners in His Word. He always assumes that by
   nature they have the same disposition.

   The text also shows what the moral type of the sinner’s heart is: “fully set
   to do evil.” But we must here pause a moment to inquire what is meant in our
   passage by the term “heart.”

   It is obvious that this term is used in the Bible in various shades of
   meaning; sometimes for the conscience, as in the passage which affirms, “If
   our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart,” and may be expected
   the more to condemn us; sometimes the term is used for the intelligence; but
   here most evidently for the will, because this is the only faculty of the
   mind which can be said to be set—fixed—bent, determined upon a given course
   of voluntary action. The will is the faculty which fixes itself upon a
   chosen course; hence in our text, the will must be meant by the term heart;
   for otherwise no intelligible sense can be put upon the passage.

   But in what direction and to what object is the will of wicked men fully
   set? Answer, to do evil. So God’s Word solemnly affirms.

   But, let it be said in way of explanation, this does not imply that men do
   evil for the sake of the evil itself; it does not imply that sinning,
   considered as disobedience to God, is their direct object—no; the drunkard
   does not drink because it is wicked to drink, but he drinks notwithstanding
   it is wicked. He drinks for the present good it promises—not for the sake of
   sinning. So of the man who tells lies. His object is not to break God’s law,
   but to get some good to himself by lying; yet he tells the lie
   notwithstanding God’s prohibition.

   His heart may become fully set upon the practice of lying whenever it suits
   his convenience, and for the good he hopes thus to gain; and it is in vain
   that God labors by fearful prohibitions and penalties to dissuade him from
   his course. So of stealing, adultery, and other sins. We are not to suppose
   that men set their heart upon these sins out of love to pure wickedness; but
   they do wickedly for the sake of the good they hope to gain thereby. The
   licentious man would perhaps be glad if it were not wicked to gratify his
   passion; but wicked though it is, he sets his heart to do it. Adam and Eve
   ate the forbidden fruit; why? Because they saw it was beautiful, and they
   were told it would make them wise; hence, for the good they hoped to gain,
   and despite of God’s prohibition, they took and ate. I know it is sometimes
   said that sinners love sin for its own sake, out of a pure love of sin as
   sin, simply because it is disobedience to God, with a natural relish, as
   wolves love flesh; but this is not true—certainly not in many cases; but the
   simple truth is, men do not set their hearts upon the sin for its own sake,
   but upon sinning for the sake of the good they hope to get from it.

   Notice particularly now the language, ”heart fully set to do evil.” One man
   is avaricious; he sets his heart upon getting rich, honestly, if he can, but
   rich any way; to get money by fair means if possible, but be sure and get
   it. Another is ambitious. The love of reputation fills and fires his soul,
   and therefore, perhaps, he becomes very polite and very amiable in his
   manners—sometimes, very religious—if religion is popular, but altogether
   selfish, and none the less so for being so very religious.

   Selfishness takes on a thousand forms and types; but each and all are
   sinful, for the whole mind should give itself up to serve God and to perform
   every duty as revealed to the reason. What did Eve do? Give herself up to
   gratify her propensity for knowledge, and for the good of self-indulgence.
   She consented to believe the lying spirit who told her it was “a tree to be
   desired to make one wise.” This she thought must be very important. It was
   also, apparently, good for food, and her appetite became greatly excited;
   the more she looked the more excited she became, and now what should she do?
   God had forbidden her to touch it: shall she obey God, or obey her own
   excited appetite? Despite of God’s command, she ate it. Was that a sin? Many
   would think it a very small sin; but it was real rebellion against God, and
   He could not do otherwise than visit it with His terrific frown!

   So everywhere, to yield to the demands of appetite and passion against
   God’s claims, is grievous sin. All men are bound to fear and obey God,
   however much self-denial and sacrifice it may cost.

   I said that selfishness often assumes a religious type. In the outset the
   mind may be powerfully affected by some of the great and stirring truths of
   the Gospel; but it presently comes to take an entirely selfish view, caring
   only to escape punishment, and make religion a matter of gain. It is
   wonderful to see how in such cases the mind utterly misapprehends the design
   of the Gospel, quite losing sight of the great fact that it seeks to
   eradicate man’s selfishness, and draw out his heart into pure benevolence.
   Making this radical mistake, it conceives of the whole Gospel system as a
   scheme for indulgences. You may see this exemplified in the view which some
   take of the imputation of Christ’s righteousness, which they suppose to be
   reckoned to them while they are living in sin. That is, they suppose that
   they secure entire exemption from the penalty of violating law, and even
   have the honors and rewards of full obedience while yet they have all the
   self-indulgences of a life of sin. Horrible! Were ever Romish indulgences
   worse than this?

   Examine such a case thoroughly and you will see that selfishness is at the
   bottom of all the religion there is in it. The man was worldly before and is
   devout now; but devout for the same reason that he was worldly. The selfish
   heart forms alike the basis of each system. The same ends are sought in the
   same spirit; the moral character remains unchanged. He prays, perhaps; but
   if so, he asks God to do some great things for him, to promote his own
   selfish purposes. He has not the remotest idea of making such a committal of
   himself to God’s interests that he shall henceforth be in perfect sympathy
   with God, desiring and seeking only God’s interests, and having no interests
   other than God’s to serve at all.

   To illustrate this point, let us suppose that a parent should say to his
   children, “I will give you my property if you will work with me, and truly
   identify your interests with mine; and if you are not willing to do this, I
   shall disinherit you.” Now some of the children may take a perfectly selfish
   view of this offer, and may say within themselves—Now I will do just enough
   for father to get his money; I will make him think that I am very zealous
   for his interests, and I will do just enough to secure the offered rewards;
   but why should I do any more?

   Or suppose the case of a human government which offers rewards to offenders
   on condition of their returning to obedience. The real spirit of the offer
   goes the length of asking the sincere devotion of their hearts to the best
   good of the government. But they may take a wholly selfish view of the case,
   and determine to accept the proposal only just far enough to secure the
   rewards, and only for the sake of the rewards. The Ruler wants and expects
   the actual sympathy of their hearts—their real good-will; and this being
   given, would love to reward them most abundantly; but how can He be
   satisfied with them if they are altogether selfish?

   Now a man may be, as selfish in praying as in stealing, and even far more
   wicked: for be may more grievously mock God, and more impiously attempt to
   bribe the Almighty to subserve his own selfish purposes. As if he supposed
   he could make the Searcher of hearts his own tool; he may insolently try to
   induce Him to play into his own hands, and thus may most grievously tempt
   Him to His face.

   But the text affirms that “the heart of men is fully set in them to do
   evil.” Perhaps some of you think otherwise; you don’t believe in such
   depravity. `O,’ says that fond mother, `I think my daughter is friendly to
   religion. Do you think she is converted?’ O no, not converted, but I think
   she is friendly; she feels favorably toward religion. Does she meet the
   claims of God like a friend to His government and to His reputation? I can
   not say about that. Ask her to repent and what does she say? She will tell
   you she can not.”

   How striking the fact that you may go through the ranks of society and you
   will meet almost everywhere with this position; the sinner says, “I can not,
   repent—I can not believe.” What is the matter? Where is the trouble? Go to
   that daughter, thought to be so friendly to religion; she is so amiable and
   gentle that she can not bear to see any pain inflicted; but mark; present to
   her the claims of God and what does she say? I can not; no, I can not obey
   God, in one of His demands. I can not repent of my sin, she says. But what
   is it to repent, that this amiable lady, so friendly to religion withal,
   should be incapable of repenting? What is the matter? Is God so unreasonable
   in His demands that He imposes upon you things quite impossible for you to
   do? Or is it the case that you are so regardless of His feelings and so
   reckless of the truth that for the sake of self-justification, you will
   arraign Him on the charge of the most flagrant injustice, and falsely imply
   that—the wrong is all on His side and none on yours? Is this a very amiable
   trait of character in you? Is this one of your proofs that the human heart
   is not fully set to do evil?

   You can not repent and love God! You find it quite impossible to make up
   your mind to serve and please God!

   What is the matter? Are there no sufficient reasons apparent to your mind
   why you should give up your heart to God? No reasons? Heaven, earth, and
   hell may all combine to pour upon you their reasons for fearing and loving
   God, and yet you can not! Why? Because your heart is fully set within you to
   do evil rather than good. You are altogether committed to the pleasing of
   self. Jesus may plead with you—your friends may plead; heaven and hell may
   lift up their united voices to plead, and every motive that can press on the
   heart from reason, conscience, hope and fear, angels and devils, God and
   man, may pass in long and flashing array before your mind—but alas! your
   heart is so fully set to do evil that no motive to change can move you. What
   is this can not? Nothing less or more than a mighty will not!

   That amiable lady insists that she is not much depraved. O no, not she. She
   will not steal! True, her selfishness takes on a most tender and delicate
   type. She has most gushing sensibilities; she can not bear to see a kitten
   in distress; but what does she care for God’s rights? What for the rights of
   Jesus Christ? What does she care for God’s feelings? What does she care for
   the feelings and sympathies of the crucified Son of God? just nothing at
   all. What, then, are all her tender sensibilities worth? Doves and kittens
   have even more of this than she. Many tender ties has she, no doubt, but
   they are all under the control of a perfectly selfish heart.

   Mother Eve, too, was most amiable. Indeed, she was A truly pious woman
   before she sinned—and Adam no doubt thought she could be trusted everywhere;
   but mark how terribly she fell! So her daughters. Giving up their hearts to
   a refined selfishness, they repel God’s most righteous claims, and they are
   fallen!

   So go through all the ranks of society and you see the same thing. Go to the
   pirate ship, the captain armed to the teeth and the fire of hell in his eye;
   ask him to receive an offered Saviour and repent of his sins, and he gives
   the very same answer as that amiable daughter does—he can not repent. His
   heart, too, is so fully set within him to do evil that he can not get his
   own consent to turn from his sins to God.

   O this horrible committal of the heart to do evil! It is the only reason why
   the Holy Ghost is needed to change the sinner’s heart. But for this you
   would no more need the Holy Ghost than an angel of light does. O how
   fearfully strong is the sinner’s heart against God! just where the claims of
   God come in he seems to have almost an omnipotence of strength to oppose and
   resist! The motives of truth may roll mountain high and beat upon his iron
   heart, yet see how he braces up his nerves to withstand God What can he not
   resist sooner than submit his will to God Another thing lies in this text,
   incidentally brought out—assumed, but not affirmed—viz., that sinners are
   already under sentence. The text says, “Because sentence is not executed
   speedily,” implying that sentence is already passed and only waits its
   appointed time for execution. You who have attended courts of justice know
   that after trial and conviction next comes sentence. The culprit takes his
   seat on the criminal’s bench. The judge arises—all is still as death; he
   reviews the case, and comes shortly to the solemn conclusion: you are
   convicted by this court of the crime alleged, and now you are to receive
   your sentence. Sentence is then pronounced.

   After this solemn transaction, execution is commonly deferred for a period
   longer or shorter according to circumstances. The object may be either to
   give the criminal opportunity to secure a pardon, or if there be no hope of
   this, at least to give him some days or weeks for serious reflection in
   which he may secure the peace of his soul with God. For such reasons,
   execution is usually delayed. But after sentence, the case is fully decided.
   No further doubt of guilt can interpose to affect the case; the possibility
   of pardon is the only remaining hope. The awful sentence seals his
   doom—unless it be possible that pardon may be had. That sentence—how it
   sinks into the heart of the guilty culprit! “You are now,” says the judge,
   “remanded to the place from whence you came; there to be kept in irons.
   under close confinement, until the day appointed; then to be taken forth
   from your prison between the hours of ten and twelve, as the case maybe, and
   hung by the neck until you are dead. And may God have mercy on your soul!”
   The sentence has passed now—the court have done their work; it only remains
   for the sheriff to do his as the executioner of justice and the fearful
   scene closes.

   So the Bible represents the case of the sinner. He is under sentence, but
   his sentence is not executed speedily. Some respite is given. The
   arrangements of the divine government require no court, no jury; the law
   itself says” The soul that sinneth, it shall die;” “Cursed is every one that
   continueth not in all the things written in the book of the law to do
   them;” so that the mandate of the law involves the sentence of law on every
   sinner—a sentence from which there can be no escape and no reprieve except
   by a pardon. What a position is this for the sinner!

   But next consider another strange fact. Because sentence is not executed
   speedily; because there is some delay of execution; because Mercy prevails
   to secure for the condemned culprit a few days’ respite, so that punishment
   shall not tread close on the heels of crime, therefore ”the heart of the
   sons of men is fully set in them to do evil.” How astounding! What a
   perversion and abuse of the gracious design of the King in granting a little
   respite from instant execution!

   Let us see how it would look in the case of our friend or neighbor. He has
   committed a fearful crime, is arrested, put on trial, convicted, sentenced,
   handed over to the sheriff to await the day and hour of his execution. The
   judge says I defer the execution that you may have opportunity to secure a
   pardon from the governor. I assure you the governor is a most compassionate
   man—he loves to grant pardons; he has already pardoned thousands; if you
   will give up your spirit of rebellion he will most freely forgive you all; I
   beg of you, therefore, that you will do no such thing as attempt a
   justification; don’t think of escaping death otherwise than by casting
   yourself upon his mercy; don’t flatter yourself that there can be any other
   refuge.

   Now suppose this man begins, “I have done nothing—just nothing at all. I am
   simply a martyr to truth and justice I At all events, I have done nothing
   very bad—nothing that any government ought to notice. I don’t believe I
   shall be sentenced—(the man is condemned already!) I shall live as long as
   the best of you.” So he sets himself to making excuses. He goes to work as
   if he was preparing for a trial, and as if he expected to prove his
   innocence before the court. Nay, perhaps he even sets himself to oppose and
   curse the government, railing at its laws and at its officers, deeming
   nothing too bad to say of them, indulging himself in the most outrageous
   opposition, abusing the very men whose mercy has spared his forfeited life!
   How would all men be shocked to see such a case—to see a man who should so
   outrage all propriety as to give himself up to abuse the government whose
   righteous laws he had just broken and then whose clemency he had most
   flagrantly abused! Yet this text affirms just this to be the case of the
   sinner, and all observation sustains it. You have seen it acted over ten
   thousand tunes; you can look back and see it in your own case. You know it
   is all true—fearfully, terribly true.

   If it were in some striking, awful manner revealed to you this night that
   your soul is damned, you would be thunder-struck. You do not believe the
   simple declaration of Jehovah as it stands recorded on the pages of the
   Bible. You are continually saying to yourself—I shall not be condemned at
   last—I will venture along. I will dare to tempt His forbearance yet. I do
   not at all believe He will send me to hell. At least, I will venture on a
   season longer and turn about by and by if I find it quite advisable; but at
   present why should I fear to set my heart fully in the way God has
   forbidden?

   Where will you find a parallel to such wickedness? Only think of a state of
   moral hardihood that can abuse God’s richest mercies—that can coolly say—God
   is so good that I will abuse Him all I can; God loves me so much that I
   shall venture on without fear to insult Him and pervert His long-suffering
   to the utmost hardening of my soul in sin and rebellion.

   Let each sinner observe—the day of execution is really set. God will not
   pass over it. When it arrives, there can be no more delay. God waits not
   because He is in doubt about the justice of the sentence—not because His
   heart misgives Him in view of its terrible execution; but only that He may
   use means with you and see if He cannot persuade you to embrace mercy. This
   is all; this the only reason why judgment for a long time has lingered and
   the sword of justice has not long since smitten you down.

   Here is another curious fact. God has not only deferred execution, but at
   immense cost has provided means for the safe exercise of mercy. You know it
   is naturally a dangerous thing to bestow mercy—there is so much danger lest
   it should weaken the energy of law and encourage men to trample it down in
   hope of impunity. But God has provided a glorious testimony in favor of law,
   going to show that it is in His heart to sustain it at every sacrifice, He
   could not forgive sin until His injured and insulted law is honored be, fore
   the universe. Having done all this in the sacrifice of His own Son on
   Calvary, He can forgive without fear of consequences, provided only that
   each candidate for pardon shall first be penitent.

   Now, therefore, God’s heart of mercy is opened wide and no fear of evil
   consequences from gratuitous pardons disturbs the exercise of mercy. Before
   atonement, justice stood with brandished sword, demanding vengeance on the
   guilty; but by and through atoning blood, God rescued His law from peril—He
   lifted it up from beneath the impious foot of the transgressor, and set it
   on high in safety and glory; and now opens wide the blessed door of mercy.
   Now He comes in the person of His Spirit and invites you in. He comes to
   your very heart and room, sinner, to offer you the freest possible pardon
   for all your sin. Do you hear that gentle rap at your door? “Behold, I stand
   at the door and knock; if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will
   come in to him and sup with him, and be with me.” Look at those hands. Have
   they not been pierced? Do you know those hands? Do you know where they have
   been to be nailed through and through? Mark those locks wet with the dew.
   Ah, how long have they been kept without in waiting for the door to open!
   Who is it that comes? Is it the sheriff of justice? Has he come with his
   armed men to drag you away to execution? Oh, no, no; but One comes with the
   cup of mercy in His hands; He approaches your prison-gate, His eye wet with
   the tear of compassion, and through the diamond of your grate He extends
   that cup of mercy to your parched lips. Po you see that visage, so marred
   more than any man’s—and you are only the more fully set to do evil? Ah,
   young man! alas, young woman! is such your heart toward the God of mercy?
   Where can we find a parallel to such guilt? Can it be found anywhere else in
   the universe but in this crazy world?

   The scenes and transactions of earth must excite a wonderful interest in
   heaven. Angels desire to look into these things. O how the whole universe
   look on with inquisitive wonder to see what Christ has done, and how the
   sinners for whom He has suffered and done all, requite His amazing love!
   When they see you set your heart only the more fully to do evil, they stand
   back aghast at such unparalleled wickedness! What can be done for such
   sinners but leave them to the madness and doom of their choice?

   God has no other alternative. If you will abuse Him, He must execute His
   law, and its fearful sentence of eternal death. Suppose it were a human
   government and a similar state of facts should occur; who does not see that
   government might as well abdicate at once as forbear to punish? So of God.
   Although He has no pleasure in the sinner’s death, and although He will
   never slay you because He delights in it, yet how can He do otherwise than
   execute His law if He would sustain it? And how can He excuse Himself for
   any failure in sustaining it? Will you stand out against Him, and flatter
   yourself that He will fail of executing His awful sentence upon you? Oh,
   sinner, there is no possibility that you can pass the appointed time without
   execution. Human laws may possibly fail of execution: God’s laws can fail
   never! And who is it that says, “Their judgment now of a long time lingereth
   not, and their damnation slumbereth not?”
     _________________________________________________________________

REMARKS.

   1. Let me ask professors of religion—Do you think you believe these truths?
   Let me suppose that here is a father and also a mother in this house, and
   you have a child whom you know and admit to be under sentence of death. You
   don’t know but this is the very day and hour set for his execution. How much
   do you feel? Does the knowledge and belief of such facts disturb your
   repose? Now your theory is that the case of your child is infinitely worse
   than. this.

   A death eternal in hell you know must be far more awful than any public
   execution on earth. If your own son were under sentence for execution on
   earth, how would you feel? Professing to believe him under the far more
   awful sentence to hell, how do you in fact feel?

   But let us spread out this case a little. Place before you that aged father
   and mother. Their son went years ago to sea. Of a long time they have not
   seen him nor even heard a word from him. How often have their troubled minds
   dwelt on his case! They do not know how it fares with him, but they fear the
   worst. They had reason to know that his principles were none too well fixed
   when he left home and they are afraid he has fallen into worse and still
   worse society until it may be that he has become a bold transgressor. As
   they are talking over these things and searching from time to time all the
   newspapers they can find, to get, if they can, some clew to their son’s
   history, all at once the door-bell rings; a messenger comes in and hands a
   letter; the old father takes it, breaks the seal—reads a word and suddenly
   falls back in his seat, the letter drops from his hand; oh, he can’t read
   it! The mother wonders and inquires; she rushes forward and seizes the
   fallen letter; she reads a word and her heart breaks with agony. What’s the
   matter? Their son is sentenced to die, and he sends to see if his father and
   mother can come and see him before be dies. In early morning they are off.
   The sympathizing neighbors gather round; all are sorrowful, for it is a sad
   thing and they feel it keenly. The parents hasten away to the prison, and
   learn the details of the painful case. They see at a glance that there can
   be no hope of release but in a pardon. The governor lives near, they rush to
   his house; but sad for them, they find him stem and inexorable. With
   palpitating hearts and a load on their aching bosoms, they plead and plead,
   but all seems to be in vain. He says—Your son has been so wicked and has
   committed such crimes, he must be hung. The good of the nation demands it,
   and I can not allow my sympathies to overrule my sense of justice and my
   convictions of the public good. But the agonized parents must hold on. O
   what a conflict in their minds! How the case burns upon their hearts! At
   last the mother breaks out: Sir, are you a father? Have you a son? Yes, one
   son. Where is he? Gone to California. How long since you heard from him?
   Suppose he too should fall! Suppose you were to feel such griefs as ours,
   and have to mourn over a fallen son! The governor finds himself to be a
   father. All the latent sensibilities of the father’s heart are aroused
   within him. Calling to his private secretary, he says, Make out a pardon for
   their son! O what a flood of emotions they pour out!

   All this is very natural. No man deems this strange at all.

   But right over against this, see the case of the sinner, condemned to an
   eternal hell. If your spiritual ears were opened, you would hear the chariot
   wheels rolling—the great judge coming in His car of thunder; you would see
   the sword of Death gleaming in the air and ready to smite down the hardened
   sinner. But hear that professedly Christian father pray for his ungodly son.
   He thinks he ought to pray for him once or twice a day, so he begins; but
   ah, he has almost forgot his subject. He hardly knows or thinks what he is
   praying about. God says, pray for your dying son! Lift up your cries for him
   while yet Mercy lingers and pardon can be found. But alas! where are the
   Christian parents that pray as for a sentenced and soon-to-be-executed son!
   They say they believe the Bible, but do they? Do they act as if they
   believed the half of its awful truths about sentenced sinners ready to go
   down to an eternal hell? Yet mark—as soon as they are spiritually awake,
   then how they feel! And how they act!

   What ails that professor who has no spirit of prayer and no power with God?
   He is an infidel! What, when God says he is sentenced to die and his angel
   of death may come in one hour and cut him down in his guilt and sin, and
   send his spirit quick to hell, and yet the father or the mother have no
   feeling in the case they are infidels; they do not believe what God has
   said.

   2. Yet make another supposition. These afflicted parents have gone to the
   governor; they have poured out their griefs before him and have at last
   wrenched a pardon from his stern hands. They rush from his house toward the
   prison, so delighted that they scarcely touch the ground; coming near they
   hear songs of merriment, and they say, How our son must be agonized with
   company and scenes so unsuited and so uncongenial! They meet the sheriff.
   Who, they ask, is that who can sing so merrily in a prison? It is your own
   son. He has no idea of being executed; he swears he will burn down the
   governor’s house; indeed, he manifests a most determined spirit, as if his
   heart were fully set on evil. Ah, say they, that is distressing; but we can
   subdue his wicked and proud heart. We will show him the pardon and tell him
   how the governor feels. We are sure this will subdue him. He can not
   withstand such kindness and compassion.

   They come to the door; they gain admittance and show him the pardon. They
   tell him how much it has cost them and how tenderly the governor feels in
   the case. He seizes it, tears it to pieces, and tramples it under his feet!
   O, say they, he must be deranged! But suppose it is only depravity of the
   heart, and they come to see it, and know that such must be the case. Alas,
   they cry, this is worst of all! What! not willing to be pardoned—not willing
   to be saved! This is worse than all the rest. Well, we must go to our
   desolate home. We have done with our son! We got a pardon for him with our
   tears, but he will not have it. There is nothing more that we can do.

   They turn sadly away, not caring even to bid him farewell. They go home
   doubly saddened—that he should both deserve to die for his original crimes,
   and also for his yet greater crime of refusing the offered pardon.

   The day of execution comes; the sheriff is on hand to do his duty; from the
   prison he takes his culprit to the place of execution; the multitude throng
   around and follow sadly along—suddenly a messenger rushes up to say to the
   criminal, “You have torn to pieces one pardon, but here is yet one more;
   will you have this?” With proud disdain he spurns even this last offer of
   pardon! And now where are the sympathies of all the land? Do they say, How
   cruel to hang a young man, and for only such a crime? Ah, no; no such thing
   at all. They see the need of law and justice; they know that law so outraged
   must be allowed to vindicate itself in the culprit’s execution. And now the
   sheriff proclaims, “Just fifteen minutes to live;” and even these minutes be
   spends in abusing the governor, and insulting the majesty of law.

   The dreadful hour arrives, and its last moment—the drop falls; he trembles a
   minute under the grasp of Death, and all is still forever! He is gone and
   Law has been sustained in the fearful execution of its sentence. All the
   people feel that this is righteous. They can not possibly think otherwise.
   Even those aged parents have not a word of complaint to utter. They approve
   the governor’s course; they endorse the sentence. They say, We did think he
   would accept the pardon! but since he would not, let him be accursed! We
   love good government, we love the blessings of law and order in society more
   than we love iniquity and crime. He was indeed our son, but he was also the
   son of the devil!

   But let us attend the execution of some of these sinners from our own
   congregation. You are sent for to come out for execution. We see the
   messenger; we hear the sentence read—we see that your fatal hour has come.
   Shall we turn and curse God? NO, NO! We shall do no such thing. When your
   drop falls, and you gasp, gasp, and die, your guilty, terror-stricken soul
   goes wailing down the sides of the pit, shall we go away to complain of God
   and of His justice? No, Why not? Because you might have had mercy, but you
   would not. Because God waited on you long, but you only became in heart more
   fully set to do evil. The universe look on and see the facts in the case;
   and with one voice that rings through the vast arch of heaven, they cry,
   “Just and righteous art thou in all thy ways, thou most Holy Lord God!”

   Who says this is cruel? What! shall the universe take up arms against
   Jehovah? No. When the universe gather together around the great white
   throne, and the dread sentence goes forth, “Depart, accursed;” and away they
   move in dense and vast masses as if old ocean had begun to flow off-down,
   down, they sink to the depths of their dark home; but the saints with firm
   step, yet solemn heart, proclaim God’s law is vindicated; the insulted
   majesty of both Law and Mercy is now upheld in honor, and all is right.

   Heaven is solemn, but joyful; saints are solemn, yet they cannot but rejoice
   in their own glorious Father. See the crowds and masses is they move up to
   heaven. They look back over the plains of Sodom and see the smoke of her
   burning ascend up like the smoke of a great furnace. But they pronounce it
   just, and have not one word of complaint to utter.

   To the yet living sinner, I have it to say today that the hour of your
   execution has not yet arrived. Once more the bleeding hand offers Mercy’s
   cup to your lips. Think a moment; your Saviour now offers you mercy. Come, O
   come now and accept it.

   What will you say? I’ll go on still in my sins? Again all we can say is that
   the bowels of divine love are deeply moved for you—that God has done all to
   save you that He wisely can do. God’s people have felt a deep and agonizing
   interest in you and are ready now to cry, How can we give them up? But what
   more can we do—what more can even God do? With bleeding heart and quivering
   lip has Mercy followed you. Jesus Himself said, “How often would I have
   gathered you— O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! How often I would have saved you, but
   ye would not!” Shall Jesus behold and weep over you, and say, “O that thou
   hadst known, even thou in this thy day—but now it is hidden from thine
   eyes?” What, O dying sinner, will you say? Shall not your response be, “It
   is enough—I have dashed away salvation’s cup long and wickedly enough; you
   need not say another word, O that bleeding hand! those weeping eyes! Is it
   possible that I have withstood a Saviour’s love so long? I am ready to beg
   for mercy now; and I rejoice to hear that our God has a father’s heart.”

   He knows you have sinned greatly and grievously, but O, He says—My
   compassions have been bleeding and gushing forth toward you these many days.
   Will you close in at once with terms of mercy and come to Jesus? What do you
   say?

   Suppose an angel comes down, in robes so pure and so white; unrolls his
   papers, and produces a pardon in your name, sealed with Jesus’ own blood. He
   opens the sacred book and reads the very passage which reveals the love of
   God, and asks you if you will believe and embrace it?

   What will you do?

   And what shall I say to my Lord and Master? When I come to report the
   matter, must I bear my testimony that you would not hear? When Christ comes
   so near to you, and would fain draw you close to His warm heart, what will
   you do? Will you still repeat the fatal choice, to spurn His love and dare
   His injured justice?
     _________________________________________________________________

                              IX. MORAL INSANITY.
     _________________________________________________________________

   “The heart of the sons of men is full of evil, and madness is in their heart
   while they live.”-Eccl. ix. 3.

   THE Bible often ascribes to unconverted men one common heart or disposition.
   It always makes two classes, and only two, of our race—saints and sinners;
   the one class converted from their sin and become God’s real friends; the
   other remaining His unconverted enemies. According to the Bible, therefore,
   the heart, in all unrenewed men, is the same in its general character. In
   the days of Noah, God testified “that the wickedness of man was great on the
   earth, and that every imagination of the thought of his heart was only evil
   continually.” Observe, He speaks of the thought of their heart, as if they
   had one common heart—all alike in moral character. So by Paul, God testifies
   that “the carnal mind is enmity against God,” testifying thus, not of one
   man, or of a few men, but of all men of carnal mind. So in our text, the
   phraseology is expressive: “the heart of the sons of men is full of evil”—as
   if the sons of men had but one heart—all in common—and this one heart were
   “full of evil.” You will notice this affirmation is not made of one or two
   men, nor of some men, merely; but “of the sons of men:” as if of them all.

   1. But what is intends by affirming that “madness is in their heart while
   they live?”

   This is not the madness of anger, but of insanity. True, sometimes people
   are mad with anger; but this is not the sense of our text. The Bible, as
   well as customary speech, employs this term, “madness”—to express insanity.
   This we understand to be its sense here.

   Insanity is of two kinds. One of the head; the other of the heart. In the
   former, the intellect is disordered, latter, the will and voluntary powers.
   Intellectual insanity destroys moral agency. The man, intellectually insane,
   is not, for the time, a moral agent; moral responsibility is suspended
   because he can not know his duty, and can not choose responsibly as to doing
   or not doing it. True, when a man makes himself temporarily insane, as by
   drunkenness, the courts are obliged to hold him responsible for his acts
   committed in that state; but the guilt really attaches to the voluntary act
   which creates the insanity. A man who gets intoxicated by intelligently
   drinking what he knows is intoxicating, must be held responsible for his
   acts during the ensuing intoxication. The reason of this is, that he can
   foresee the danger, and can easily avoid it.

   The general law is that, while the intellect retains its usual power, so
   long moral obligation remains unimpaired.

   Moral insanity, on the other hand, is will-madness. The man retains his
   intellectual powers unimpaired. but he sets his heart fully to He refuses to
   yield to the demands of his conscience. He practically discards the
   obligations of moral responsibility. He has the powers of free moral agency,
   but persistently abuses them. He has a reason which affirms obligation, but
   he refuses obedience to its affirmations.

   In this form of insanity, the reason remains unimpaired; but the heart
   deliberately disobeys.

   The insanity spoken of in the text is moral. that of the heart. By the heart
   here, is meant the will—the voluntary power. While the man is intellectually
   sane, he yet acts as if he were intellectually insane.

   It is important to point out some of the manifestations of this state of
   mind. Since the Bible affirms it to be a fact that sinners are mad in heart,
   we may naturally expect to see some manifestations of it. It is often
   striking to see how perfectly the Bible daguerreotypes human character; has
   it done so in reference to this point? Let us see.

   Who are the morally insane?

   Those who, not being intellectually insane, yet ACT as if they were.

   For example, those who are intellectually insane, treat fiction as if it
   were reality, and reality as if it were fiction. They act as if truth were
   not truth, and as if falsehood were truth. Every man knows that insane
   people actually follow the wild dreams of their own fancy, as if they were
   the most stem reality, and can scarcely be made to feel the force of
   anything truly real.

   So men, in their sins, treat the realities of the spiritual world as if they
   were not real, but follow the most empty phantoms of this world, as if they
   were stern realities.

   They also act as if self were of supreme importance, and everything else of
   relatively no importance. Suppose you were to see a man acting this out in
   common life. He goes round, day after day, assuming that he is the Supreme
   God, and practically insisting that everybody ought to have a supreme regard
   to his rights, and comparatively little or no regard for other people’s
   rights. Now, if you were to see a man saying this and acting it out, would
   you not account him either a blasphemer or insane?

   Observe, now, the wonderful fact, that while wicked men talk so sensibly as
   to show that they know better, yet they act as if all this were true—as if
   they supposed their own self-interest to be more important than everything
   else in the universe, and that God’s interests, and rights even, are nothing
   in comparison. Practically, every sinner does this.

   It is an essential element in all sin. Selfish men never regard the rights
   of anybody else, unless they are in some way linked with their own.

   If wicked men really believed their own rights and interests to be supreme
   in the universe, it would prove them intellectually insane, and we should
   hasten to shut them up in the nearest mad-house; but when they show that
   they know better, yet act on this groundless assumption, in the face of
   their better knowledge, we say, with the Bible, that “madness is in their
   hearts while they live.”

   Again, see this madness manifested in his relative estimate of time and of
   eternity. His whole life declares that, in his view, it is by far more
   important to secure the good of time than the good of eternity. Yet, if a
   man should reason thus should, argue to prove it, and should soberly assert
   it—you would know him to be insane, and would help him to the mad-house.
   But, suppose he does not say this—dares not say it—knows it is not true; yet
   constantly acts it out, and lives on the assumption of its truth, what then?
   Simply this—he is morally mad. Madness is in his heart.

   Now precisely this is the practice of every one of you who is living in sin.
   You give the preference to time over eternity, You practically say—O give me
   the joys of time: why should I trouble myself yet about the trivial matters
   of eternity?

   In the same spirit you assume that the body is more than the soul. But if a
   man were to affirm this and go round trying to prove it, you would know him
   to be insane. O, if he were a friend of yours, how your heart would break
   for his sad misfortune reason lost! But if he knows better, yet practically
   lives as if it were even so, you only say, he is morally insane—that is all!

   Suppose you see a man destroying his own property, not by accident or
   mistake, but deliberately; injuring his own health, also, as if he had no
   care for his own interests; you might bring his case before a judge and sue
   out a commission of lunacy against him; under which the man’s goods should
   be taken out of his own control, and he be no longer suffered to squander
   them. Yet, in spiritual things, wicked men will deliberately act against
   their own dearest interests; having a price put into their hands to get
   wisdom, they will not use it; having the treasures of heaven placed within
   their reach, they do not try to secure them; with an infinite wealth of
   blessedness proffered for the mere acceptance, they will not take it as a
   gift. Indeed! How plain it is that, if men were to act in temporal things as
   they do in spiritual, they would be pronounced by everybody insane. Any man
   would take his oath of it. They would say—Only see; the man acts against his
   own interests in everything! Who can deny that he is insane? Certainly sane
   men never do this!

   But, in moral questions, wicked men seem to take the utmost pains to subvert
   their own interests, and make themselves insolvent forever! O, how they
   beggar their souls, when they might have the riches of heaven.

   Again, they endeavor to realize manifest impossibilities. For example, they
   try to make themselves happy in their sins and their selfishness, Yet they
   know they can not do it. Ask them, and they will admit the thing is utterly
   impossible; and yet, despite of this conviction, they keep up the effort
   perpetually to try—as if they expected by and by to realize a manifest
   impossibility. Now, in moral things, it may not strike you as specially
   strange, for it is exceedingly common; but suppose, in matters of the world,
   you were to see a man doing the same sort of thing, what would you think of
   him? For example, you see him working hard to build a very long ladder, and
   you ask him what for. He says, “I am going to scale the moon.” You see him
   ex. pending his labor and his money, with the toil of a life, to get up a
   mammoth ladder with which to scale the moon I Would you not say—He is
   certainly insane? For unless he were really insane, he would know it to be
   an utter impossibility. But, in spiritual things, men are all the time
   trying to realize a result at least equally impossible—that of being happy
   in sin—happy with a mutiny among their own constitutional powers, the heart
   at war against reason and conscience. The pursuit of happiness in sin is as
   if a man were seeking to bless himself by mangling his own flesh, digging
   out his own eyes, knocking in his teeth. Yet men as really know that they
   can not obtain happiness in sin and selfishness, as they know they can not
   ensure health and comfort by mutilating their own flesh and tearing their
   own nerves in sunder. Doing thus madly what they know will always defeat and
   never ensure real happiness, they show themselves to be morally insane.

   Another manifestation of intellectual insanity is loss of confidence in
   one’s best friends. Often this is one of the first and most painful
   evidences of insanity—the poor man will have it that his dearest friends are
   set to ruin him. By no amount of evidence can he be persuaded to think they
   are his real friends.

   Just so sinners in their madness treat God. While they inwardly know He is
   their real friend, yet they practically treat Him as their worst enemy. By
   no motives can they be persuaded to confide in Him as their friend. In fact,
   they treat Him as if He were the greatest liar in the universe. Wonderful to
   tell, they practically reverse the regard due respectively to God and to
   Satan—treating Satan as if he were God, and God as if He were Satan. Satan
   they believe and obey; God they disown, dishonor, and disobey. How strangely
   would they reverse the order of things! They would fain enthrone Satan over
   the universe, giving him the highest seat in heaven; the Almighty and holy
   God they would send to hell. They do not hesitate to surrender to Satan the
   place of power over their own hearts which is due to God only.

   I have already noticed the fact that insane people treat their best friends
   as if they were their worst enemies, and that this is often the first proof
   of insanity, If a husband, he will have it that his dear wife is trying to
   poison him. I have a case in my recollection—the first case of real insanity
   I ever saw, and, for that reason perhaps, it made a strong impression on my
   mind. I was riding on horseback, and, coming near a house, I noticed a
   chamber window up and heard a most unearthly cry. As soon as I came near
   enough to catch the words, I heard a most wild, imploring voice, “Stranger,
   stranger, come here—here is the great whore of Babylon; they are trying to
   kill me, they will kill me.” I dismounted; came up to the house, and there I
   found a man shut up in a cage, and complaining most bitterly of his wife. As
   I turned towards her I saw she looked sad, as if a load of grief lay heavy
   on her heart. A tear trembled in her eye. Alas, her dear husband was a
   maniac! Then I first learned how the insane are wont to regard their best
   friends.

   Now, sinners know better of God and of their other real friends; and yet
   they very commonly treat them in precisely this way. Just as if they were to
   go into the places of public resort, and lift up their voices to all
   bystanders—Hallo, there, all ye—be it known to you, “the Great God is an
   almighty tyrant! He is not fit to be trusted or loved!”

   Now, everybody knows they treat God thus practically. They regard the
   service of God—religion—as if it were inconsistent with their real and
   highest happiness. I have often met with sinners who seemed to think that
   every attempt to make them Christians is a scheme to take them in and sell
   them into slavery. They by no means estimate religion as if it came forth
   from a God of love. Practically, they treat religion as if embraced it would
   be their ruin. Yet, in all this, they act utterly against their own
   convictions. They know better. If they did not, their guilt would be
   exceedingly small compared with what it is.

   Another remarkable manifestation of insanity is, to be greatly excited about
   trifles, and apathetic about the most important matters in the universe.
   Suppose you see a man excited about straws and pebbles—taking unwearied
   pains to gather them into heaps, and store them away as treasures; yet, when
   a fire breaks out around his dwelling and the village is in flames, he takes
   no notice of it, and feels no interest; or people may die on every side with
   the plague, but he heeds it not; would you not say, he must be insane? But
   this is precisely true of sinners. They are almost infinitely excited about
   worldly good—straws and pebbles, compared with God’s proffered treasures;
   but O, how apathetic about the most momentous events in the universe! The
   vast concerns of their souls scarcely stir up one earnest thought. If they
   did not know better, you would say—Certainly, their reason is dethroned; but
   since they do know better, you can not say less than that they are morally
   insane, “madness is in their heart while they live.”

   The conduct of impenitent men is the perfection of irrationality. When you
   see it as it is, you will get a more just and vivid idea of irrationality
   than you can get from any other source. You see this in the ends to which
   they devote themselves, and in the means which they employ to secure them.
   All is utterly unreasonable. An end madly chosen—sought by means madly
   devised; this is the life-history of the masses who reject God. If this were
   the result of wrong intellectual judgments, we should say at once that the
   race have gone mad.

   Bedlam itself affords no higher evidence of intellectual insanity than every
   sinner does of moral. You may go to Columbus, and visit every room occupied
   by the inmates of the Lunatic Asylum; you can not find one insane person who
   gives higher evidence of intellectual insanity than every sinner does of
   moral. If bedlam itself furnishes evidence that its bedlamites are crazy,
   intellectually; so does every sinner that he is mad, morally.

   Sinners act as if they were afraid they should be saved. Often they seem to
   be trying to make their salvation as difficult as possible. For example,
   they all know what Christ has said about the danger of riches and the
   difficulty of saving rich men. They have read from His lips, “How hardly
   shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God.” “It is easier
   for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter
   into the kingdom of God.” This they know, and yet how many of them are in
   mad haste to be rich! For this end, some are ready to sacrifice their
   conscience—some their health—all seem ready, deliberately, to sacrifice
   their souls! How could they more certainly ensure their own damnation!

   Thus they regard damnation as if it were salvation, and salvation as if it
   were damnation. They rush upon damnation as if it were heaven, and flee
   salvation as if it were hell.

   Is this exaggeration? No; this is only the simple truth. Sinners press down
   the way to hell as if it were the chief good of their existence, and shun
   the way to heaven as if it were the consummation of evil. Sinner, this is
   your own moral state. The picture gives only the naked facts of the case,
   without exaggeration.

   3. This moral insanity is a state of unmingled wickedness. The special
   feature of it which makes it a guilty state, is that it is altogether
   voluntary. It results not from the less of reason, but from the abuse of
   reason. The will persists in acting against reason and conscience. Despite
   of the affirmations of reason, and reckless of the admonitions of
   conscience, the sinner presses on in his career of rebellion against God and
   goodness. In such voluntary wickedness, must there not be intrinsic guilt?

   Besides, this action is oftentimes deliberate, The man sins in his cool,
   deliberate moments, as well as in his excited moments. If he sins most
   overtly and boldly in his excited moments he does not repent and change his
   position towards God in his deliberate moments, but virtually endorses then
   the hasty purposes of his more excited hours. This heightens his guilt.

   Again, his purposes of sin are obstinate and unyielding. In ten thousand
   ways, God is bringing influences to bear on his mind to change his purposes;
   but usually in vain. This career of sin is in violation of all his
   obligations. Who does not know this? The sinner never acts from right
   motives—never yields to the sway of a sense of obligation—never Practically
   recognizes his obligation to love his neighbor as himself, or to honor the
   Lord his God.

   It is a total rejection of both God’s law and Gospel. The law he will not
   obey; the Gospel of pardon he will not accept. He seems determined to brave
   the Omnipotence of Jehovah, and dare His vengeance. Is he not mad upon his
   idols? Is it saying too much when the Bible affirms, “Madness is in their
   heart while they live?”
     _________________________________________________________________

REMARKS.

   1. Sinners strangely accuse saints of being mad and crazy. Just as soon as
   Christian people begin to act as if the truth they believe is a reality,
   then wicked men cry out, “See, they are getting crazy.” Yet those very
   sinners admit the Bible to be true, and admit those things which Christians
   believe as true to be really so; and, further still, they admit that those
   Christians are doing only what they ought to do, and only as themselves
   ought to act; still, they charge them with insanity. It is curious that even
   those sinners themselves know these Christians to be the only rational men
   on the earth. I can well recollect that I saw this plainly before my
   conversion. I knew then that Christians were the only people in all the
   world who had any valid claim to be deemed sane.

   2. If intellectual insanity be a shocking fact, how much more so is moral? I
   have referred to my first impressions at the sight of one who was
   intellectually insane, but a case of moral insanity ought to be deemed far
   more afflictive and astounding. Suppose the case of a Webster. His brain
   becomes softened; he is An idiot! There is not a man in all the land but
   would feel solemn. What! Daniel Webster—that great man, an idiot! How have
   the mighty fallen! What a horrible sight!

   But how much more horrible to see him become a moral idiot—to see a selfish
   heart run riot with the clear decisions of his gigantic intellect—to see his
   moral principles fading away before the demands of selfish ambition—to see
   such a man become a drunkard, a debauchee, a loafer; if this were to occur
   in a Daniel Webster, how inexpressively shocking! Intellectual idiocy is not
   to be named in the comparison!

   3. Although some sinners may be externally fair, and may seem to be amiable
   in temper and character, yet every real sinner is actually insane. In view
   of all these solemnities of eternity, he insists on being controlled only by
   the things of time. With the powers of an angel, he aims not above the low
   pursuits of a selfish heart. How must angels look on such a case! Eternity
   so vast, and its issues so dreadful, yet this sinner drives furiously to
   hell as if he were on the high-road to heaven! And all this only because he
   is infatuated with the pleasures of sin for a season. At first view, Le
   seems to have really made the mistake of hell for heaven; but, on a closer
   examination, you see it is no real mistake of the intellect; he knows very
   well the difference between hell and heaven; but he is practically deluding
   himself under the impulses of his mad heart! The mournful fact is, he loves
   sin, and after that he will go! Alas, alas! so insane, he rushes greedily on
   his own damnation, just as if he were in pursuit of heaven!

   We shudder at the thought that any of our friends are be. coming idiotic or
   lunatic; but this is not half so bad as to have one of them become wicked.
   Better have a whole family become idiotic than one of them become a hardened
   sinner. Indeed, the former, compared with the latter, is as nothing. For the
   idiot shall not always be so. When this mortal is laid away in the grave,
   the soul may look out again in the free air of liberty, as if it had never
   been immured in a dark prison; and the body, raised again, may bloom in
   eternal vigor and beauty; but, alas, moral insanity only waxes worse and
   worse forever! The root of this being not in a diseased brain, but in a
   diseased heart and soul, death can not cure it; the resurrection will only
   raise him to shame and everlasting contempt; and the eternal world will only
   give scope to his madness to rage on with augmented vigor and wider sweep
   forever.

   Some persons are more afraid of being called insane than of being called
   wicked. Surely they show the fatal delusion that is on their hearts.

   Intellectual insanity is only pitiable, not disgraceful; but moral insanity
   is unspeakably disgraceful. None need wonder that God should say, “Some
   shall arise to shame and everlasting contempt.”

   Conversion to God is becoming morally sane. It consists in restoring the
   will and the affections to the just control of the intelligence, the reason,
   and the conscience, so as to put the man once more in harmony with
   himself—all his faculties adjusted to their true positions and proper
   functions.

   Sometimes persons who have become converted, but not well established,
   backslide into moral insanity. Just as persons sometimes relapse into
   intellectual insanity, after being apparently quite restored. This is a sad
   case, and brings sorrow upon the hearts of friends. Yet, in no case can it
   be so sad as a case of backsliding into moral insanity.

   An intellectual bedlam is a mournful place. How can the heart of any human
   sensibility contemplate such a scene without intense grief? Mark, as you
   pass through those halls, the traces of intellectual ruin; there is a
   noble-looking woman, perfectly insane; there is a man of splendid mien and
   bearing—all in ruins! How awful! Then, if this be so, what a place is hell!
   These, intellectual bedlams are awful; how much more the moral bedlam!

   Suppose we go to Columbus and visit its Lunatic Ayslum; go round to all its
   wards and study the case of each inmate; then we will go to Indiana; then to
   New York, and so through all the Asylums of each several State. Then we will
   visit London and its Asylum, where we may find as many insane as in all our
   Union. Would not this be a mournful scene? Would not you cry out long before
   we had finished—Enough! Enough! How can I bear these sights of mad men! How
   can I endure to behold such desolation!

   Suppose, then, we go next to the great moral bedlam of the universe—the hell
   of lost souls; for if men will make themselves mad, God must shut them up in
   one vast bedlam cell. Why should not He? The weal of His empire demands that
   all the moral insanity of His kingdom should be withdrawn from the society
   of the holy, and shut up alone and apart. There are those whose intellects
   are right, but whose hearts are all wrong. Ah, what a place must that be in
   which to spend one’s eternity! The great mad-house of the universe!

   Sometimes sinners here, aware of their own insanity, set glimpses of this
   fearful state. I recollect that, at one time, I got this idea that
   Christians are the only persons who can claim to be rational, and then I
   asked myself—Why should I not so? Would it hurt me to obey God? Would it
   ruin my peace, or damage my prospects for either this life or the next? Why
   do I go on so?

   I said to myself—I can give no account of it, only that I am mad. All that I
   can say is that my heart is set on iniquity, and will not turn.

   Alas, poor maniac! Not unfortunate, but wicked! How many of you know that
   this is your real case? O, young man, did your father think you were sane
   when he sent you here? Ah, you were so intellectually, perhaps, but not
   morally. As to your moral nature and functions, all was utterly deranged. My
   dear young friend, does your own moral course commend itself to your
   conscience and your reason? If not, what are you but a moral maniac? Young
   man, young woman, must you in truth write yourselves down moral maniacs?

   Finally, the subject shows the importance of not quenching the Spirit. This
   is God’s agency for the cure of moral maniacs. O, if you put out His light
   from your souls, there remains to you only the blackness of darkness
   forever! Said a young man in Lane Seminary, just dying in his sins—Why did
   you not tell me there is such a thing as eternal damnation? Weld, why did
   not you tell me? I did. Oh, I am going there—how can I die so? It’s growing
   dark; bring in a light! And so he passed away from this world of light and
   hope!

   O sinner, take care that you put not out the light which God has cast into
   your dark heart, lest, when you pass away it shall grow dark to your soul at
   midday—the opening into the blackness of darkness forever.
     _________________________________________________________________

                         X. CONDITIONS OF BEING SAVED

   “What must I do to be saved?”-Acts xvi. 30.

   I BRING forward this subject today not because it is new to many in this
   congregation, but because it is greatly needed. I am happy to know that the
   great inquiry of our text is beginning to be deeply and extensively agitated
   in this community, and under these circumstances it is the first duty of a
   Christian pastor to answer it, fully and plainly.

   The circumstances which gave occasion to the words of the text were briefly
   these. Paul and Silas had gone to Philippi to preach the Gospel. Their
   preaching excited great opposition and tumult; they were arrested and thrown
   into prison, and the jailer was charged to keep them safely. At midnight
   they were praying and singing praises—God came down- the earth quaked and
   the prison rocked—its doors burst open, and their chains fell off; the
   jailer sprang up affrighted, and, supposing his prisoners had fled, was
   about to take his own life, when Paul cried out, “Do thyself no harm; we are
   all here. “He then called for a light, and sprang in and came trembling, and
   fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them out and said, “Sirs, what
   must I do to be saved?”

   This is briefly the history of our text; and I improve it now, by showing;

   I. What sinners must not do to be saved; and

   II. What they must do.
     _________________________________________________________________

                   I. What sinners must not do to be saved;

   It has now come to be necessary and very important to tell men what they
   must not do in order to be saved. When the Gospel was first preached, Satan
   had not introduced as many delusions to mislead men as he has now. It was
   then enough to give, as Paul did, the simple and direct answer, telling men
   only what they must at once do. But this seems to be not enough now. So many
   delusions and perversions have bewildered and darkened the minds of men that
   they need often a great deal of instruction to lead them back to those
   simple views of the subject which prevailed at first. Hence the importance
   of showing what sinners must not do, if they intend to be saved.

   1. They must not imagine that they have nothing to do. In Paul’s time nobody
   seems to have thought of this. Then the doctrine of Universalism was not
   much developed. Men had not begun to dream that they should be saved without
   doing anything. They had not learned that sinners have nothing to do to be
   saved. If this idea, so current of late, had been rife at Philippi, the
   question of our text would not have been asked. No trembling sinner would
   have cried out, What must I do to be saved?

   If men imagine they have nothing to do, they are never likely to be saved.
   It is not in the nature of falsehood and lies to save men’s souls, and
   surely nothing is more false than this notion. Men know they have something
   to do to be saved. Why, then, do they pretend that all men will be saved
   whether they do their duty, or constantly refuse to do it? The very idea is
   preposterous, and is entertained only by the most palpable outrage upon
   common sense and an enlightened conscience.

   2. You should not mistake what you have to do. The duty required of sinners
   is very simple, and would be easily understood were it not for the false
   ideas that prevail as to what religion is, and as to the exact things which
   God requires as conditions of salvation. On these points erroneous opinions
   prevail to a most alarming extent. Hence the danger of mistake. Beware lest
   you be deceived in a matter of so vital moment.

   3. Do not say or imagine that you cannot do what God requires. On the
   contrary, always assume that you can. If you assume that you cannot, this
   very assumption will be fatal to your salvation.

   4. Do not procrastinate. As you ever intend or hope to be saved, you must
   set your face like a flint against this most pernicious delusion. Probably
   no other mode of evading present duty has ever prevailed so extensively as
   this, or has destroyed so many souls. Almost all men in Gospel lands intend
   to prepare for death—intend to repent and become religious before they die.
   Even Universalists expect to become religious at some time—perhaps after
   death— perhaps after being purified from their sins by purgatorial fires;
   but somehow they expect to become holy, for they know they must before they
   can see God and enjoy His presence. But you will observe, they put this
   matter of becoming holy off to the most distant time possible. Feeling a
   strong dislike to it now, they flatter themselves that God will take care
   that it shall be done up duly in the next world, how much soever they may
   frustrate His efforts to do it in this. So long as it remains in their power
   to choose whether to become holy or not, they improve the time to enjoy sin;
   and leave it with God to make them holy in the next world—if they can’t
   prevent it there! Consistency is a jewel!

   And all those who put off being religious now in the cherished delusion of
   becoming so in some future time, whether in this world or the next, are
   acting out this same inconsistency. You fondly hope that will occur which
   you are now doing your utmost to prevent.

   So sinners by myriads press their way down to hell under this delusion. They
   often, when premed with the claims of God, will even name the time when they
   will repent. It may be very near—perhaps as soon as they get home from the
   meeting, or as soon as the sermon is over; or it may be more remote, as, for
   example, when they have finished their education, or become settled in life,
   or have made a little more property, or get ready to abandon some business
   of questionable morality; but no matter whether the time set be near or
   remote, the delusion is fatal—the thought of procrastination is murder to
   the soul. Ah, such sinners are little aware that Satan himself has poured
   out his spirit upon them and is leading them whithersoever he will. He
   little cares whether they put off for a longer time or a shorter. If he can
   persuade them to a long delay, he likes it well; if only to a short one, he
   feels quite sure he can renew the delay and get another extension—so it
   answers his purpose fully in the end.

   Now mark, sinner, if you ever mean to be saved you must resist and grieve
   away this spirit of Satan. You must cease to procrastinate. You can never be
   converted so long as you operate only in the way of delaying and promising
   yourself that you will become religious at some future time. Did you ever
   bring anything to pass in your temporal business by procrastination? Did
   procrastination ever begin, prosecute, and accomplish any important
   business?

   Suppose you have some business of vast consequence, involving your
   character, or your whole estate, or your life, to be transacted in
   Cleveland, but you do not know precisely how soon it must be done. It may be
   done with safety now, and with greater facility now than ever hereafter; but
   it might possibly be done although you should delay a little time, but every
   moment’s delay involves an absolute uncertainty of your being able to do it
   at all. You do not know but a single hour’s delay will make yon too late.
   Now in these circumstances what would a man of sense and discretion do?
   Would be not be awake and up in an instant?

   Would be sleep on a matter of such moment, involving such risks and
   uncertainties? No. You know that the risk of a hundred dollars, pending on
   such conditions, would stir the warm blood of any man of business, and you
   could not tempt him to delay an hour. O, he would say, this is the great
   business to which I must attend, and everything else must give way. But
   suppose he should act as a sinner does about repentance, and promise himself
   that tomorrow will be as this day and much more abundant—and do nothing
   today, nor tomorrow, nor the next month, nor the next year—would you not
   think him beside himself? Would you expect his business to be done, his
   money to be secured, his interests to be promoted?

   So the sinner accomplishes nothing but his own ruin so long as he
   procrastinates. Until he says, “Now is my time—today I will do all my
   duty”—he is only playing the fool and laying up his wages accordingly. O, it
   is infinite madness to defer a matter of such vast interest and of such
   perilous uncertainty!

   5. If you would be saved you must not wait for God to do what He commands
   you to do. God will surely do all that He can for your salvation. All that
   the nature of the case allows of His doing, He either has done or stands
   ready to do as soon as your position and course will allow Him to do it.
   Long before you were born He anticipated your wants as a sinner, and began
   on the most liberal scale to make provision for them. He gave His Son to die
   for you, thus doing all that need be done by way of an atonement. Of a long
   time past He has been shaping His providence so as to give you the requisite
   knowledge of duty has sent you His Word and Spirit. Indeed, He has given you
   the highest possible evidence that He will be energetic and prompt on His
   part—as one in earnest for your salvation. You know this. What sinner in
   this house fears lest God should be negligent on His part in the matter of
   his salvation? Not one. No, many of you are not a little annoyed that God
   should press you so earnestly and be so energetic in the work of securing
   your salvation. And now can you quiet your conscience with the excuse of
   waiting for God to do your duty?

   The fact is, there are things for you to do which God can not do for you.
   Those things which He has enjoined and revealed as the conditions of your
   salvation, He cannot and will not do Himself. If He could have done them
   Himself, He would not have asked you to do them. Every sinner ought to
   consider this. God requires of you repentance and faith because it is
   naturally impossible that any one else but you should do them. They are your
   own personal matters—the voluntary exercises of your own mind; and no other
   being in heaven, earth, or hell, can do these things for you in your stead.
   As far as substitution was naturally possible, God has introduced it, as in
   the case of the atonement. He has never hesitated to march up to meet and to
   bear all the self-denials which the work of salvation has involved.

   6. If you mean to be saved, you must not wait for God to do anything
   whatever. There is nothing to be waited for. God has either done all on His
   part already, or if anything more remains, He is ready and waiting this
   moment for you to do your duty that He may impart all needful grace.

   7. Do not flee to any refuge of lies. Lies cannot save you. It is truth, not
   lies, that alone can save. I have often wondered how men could suppose that
   Universalism could save any man.

   Men must be sanctified by the truth. There is no plainer teaching in the
   Bible than this, and no Bible doctrine is better sustained by reason and the
   nature of the case.

   Now does Universalism sanctify anybody? Universalists say you must be
   punished for your sins, and that thus they will be put away—as if the fires
   of purgatory would thoroughly consume all sin, and bring out the sinner
   pure. Is this being sanctified by the truth? You might as well hope to be
   saved by eating liquid fire! You might as well expect fire to purify your
   soul from sin in this world, as in the next! Why not?

   It is amazing that men should hope to be sanctified and saved by this great
   error, or, indeed, by any error whatever. God says you must be sanctified by
   the truth. Suppose you could believe this delusion, would it make you holy?
   Do you believe that it would make you humble, heavenly-minded, sin-hating,
   benevolent? Can you believe any such thing? Be assured that Satan is, only
   the father of lies, and he cannot save you—in fact, he would not if he
   could; he intends his lies not to save you, but to destroy your very soul,
   and nothing could be more adapted to its purpose. Lies are only the natural
   poison of the soul. You take them at your peril!

   8. Don’t seek for any self-indulgent method of salvation. The great effort
   among sinners has always been to be saved in some way of self-indulgence.
   They are slow to admit that self-denial is indispensable—that total,
   unqualified self-denial is the condition of being saved. I warn you against
   supposing that you can be saved in some easy, self-pleasing way. Men ought
   to know, and always assume, that it is naturally indispensable for
   selfishness to be utterly put away and its demands resisted and put down.

   I often ask—Does the system of salvation which I preach so perfectly chime
   with the intuitions of my reason that I know from within myself that this
   Gospel is the thing I need? Does it in all its parts and relations meet the
   demands of my intelligence? Are its requisitions obviously just and right?
   Does its prescribed conditions of salvation obviously befit man’s moral
   position before God, and his moral relations to the government of God?

   To these and similar questions I am constrained to answer in the
   affirmative. The longer I live the more fully I see that the Gospel system
   is the only one that can alike meet the demands of the human intelligence,
   and supply the wants of man’s sinning, depraved heart. The duties enjoined
   upon the sinner are just those things which I know must in the nature of the
   case be the conditions of salvation. Why, then, should any sinner think of
   being saved on any other conditions? Why desire it even if it were ever so
   practicable?

   9. Don’t imagine you will ever have a more favourable time. Impenitent
   sinners are prone to imagine that just now is by no means so convenient a
   season as may be expected hereafter. So they put off in hope of a better
   time. They think perhaps that they shall have more conviction, and fewer
   obstacles, and less hindrances. So thought Felix. He did not intend to
   forego salvation, any more than you do; but he was very busy just then—had
   certain ends to be secured which seemed peculiarly pressing, and so he
   begged to be excused on the promise of very faithful attention to the
   subject at the expected convenient season. But did the convenient season
   ever come? Never. Nor does it ever come to those who in like manner resist
   God’s solemn call, and grieve away His Spirit. Thousands are now waiting in
   the pains of hell who said just as he did, “Go thy way for this time, when I
   have a convenient season I will call for thee.” Oh, sinner, when will your
   convenient season come I Are you aware that no season will ever be
   “convenient” for you, unless God calls up your attention earnestly and
   solemnly to the subject? And can you expect Him to do this at the time of
   your choice, when you scorn His call at the time of His choice? Have you not
   heard Him say, “Because I have called, and ye refused, I have stretched out
   my hand, and no man regarded, but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and
   would none of my reproof; I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock
   when your fear cometh. When your fear cometh as desolation, and your
   destruction cometh as a whirlwind, when distress and anguish cometh upon
   you; then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me
   early, but they shall not find me.” O, sinner, that will be a fearful and a
   final doom! And the myriad voices of God’s universe will say, amen.

   10. Do not suppose that you will find another time as good, and one in which
   you can just as well repent as now. Many are ready to suppose that though
   there may be no better time for themselves, there will at least be one as
   good. Vain delusion! Sinner, you already owe ten thousand talents, and will
   you find it just as easy to be forgiven this debt while you are showing that
   you don’t care how much and how long you augment it? In a case like this,
   where everything turns upon your securing the good-will of your creditor, do
   you hope to gain it by positively insulting him to his face?

   Or take another view of the case. Your heart you know must one day relent
   for sin, or you are forever damned. You know also that each successive sin
   increases the hardness of your heart, and makes it a more difficult matter
   to repent. How, then, can you reasonably hope that a future time will be
   equally favourable for your repentance? When you have hardened your neck
   like an iron sinew, and made your heart like an adamant stone, can you hope
   that repentance will yet be as easy to you as ever?

   You know, sinner, that God requires you to break off from your sins now. But
   you look up into His face and say to Him, “Lord, it is just as well to stop
   abusing Thee at some future convenient time. Lord, if I can only be saved at
   last, I shall think it all my gain to go on insulting and abusing Thee as
   long as it will possibly answer. And since Thou art so very compassionate
   and long-suffering, I think I may venture on in sin and rebellion against
   Thee yet these many months and years longer. Lord, don’t hurry me—do let me
   have my way; let me abase Thee if Thou pleasest, and spit in Thy face—all
   will be just as well if I only repent in season so as finally to be saved. I
   know, indeed, that Thou art entreating me to repent now, but I much prefer
   to wait a, season, and it will be just as well to repent at some future
   time.”

   And now do you suppose that God will set His seal to this—that He will say,
   “You are right, sinner, I set my seal of approbation upon your course—it is
   well that you take so just views of your duty to your Maker and your Father;
   go on; your course will ensure your salvation.” Do you expect such a
   response from God as this?

   11. If you ever expect to be saved, don’t wait to see what others will do or
   say. I was lately astonished to find that a young lady here under conviction
   was in great trouble about what a beloved brother would think of her if she
   should give her heart to God. She knew her duty; but he was impenitent, and
   how could she know what he would think if she should repent now! It amounts
   to this. She would come before God and say, “O Thou great God, I know I
   ought to repent, but I can’t; for I don’t know as my brother will like it. I
   know that he too is a sinner, and must repent or lose his soul, but I am
   much more afraid of his frown than I am of Thine, and I care more for his
   approbation than I do for Thine, and consequently, I dare not repent till he
   does! “How shocking is this! Strange that on such a subject men will ever
   ask “What will others say of me?” Are you amenable to God? What, then, have
   others to say about your duty to Him? God requires you and them also to
   repent, and why don’t you do it at once?

   Not long since, as I was preaching abroad, one of the principal men of the
   city came to the meeting for inquiry, apparently much convicted and in great
   distress for his soul. But being a man of high political standing, and
   supposing himself to be very dependent upon his friends, he insisted that he
   must consult them, and have a regard for their feelings in this matter. I
   could not possibly beat him off from this ground, although I spent three
   hours in the effort. He seemed almost ready to repent—I thought he certainly
   would; but he slipped away, relapsed by a perpetual backsliding, and I
   expect will be found at last among the lost in perdition. Would you not
   expect such a result if he tore himself away under such an excuse as that?

   O, sinner, you must not care what others say of you—let them say what they
   please. Remember, the question is between your own soul and God, and “He
   that is wise shall be wise for himself, and he that scorneth, he alone shall
   bear it.” You must die for yourself, and for yourself must appear before God
   in judgment! Go, young woman, ask your brother, “Can you answer for me when
   I come to the judgment? Can you pledge yourself that you can stand in my
   stead and answer for me there?” Now until you have reason to believe that he
   can, it is wise for you to disregard his opinions if they stand at all in
   your way. Whoever interposes any objection to your immediate repentance,
   fail not to ask him—Can you shield my soul in the judgment? If I can be
   assured that you can and will, I will make you my Saviour; but if not, then
   I must attend to my own salvation, and leave you to attend to Yours.

   I never shall forget the scene which occurred while my own mind was turning
   upon this great point. Seeking a retired place for prayer, I went into a
   deep grove, found a perfectly secluded spot behind some large logs, and
   knelt down. All suddenly, a leaf rustled and I sprang, for somebody must be
   coming and I shall be seen here at prayer. I had not been aware that I cared
   what others said of me, but looking back upon my exercises of mind here, I
   could see that I did care infinitely too much what others thought of me.

   Closing my eyes again for prayer, I heard a rustling leaf again, and then
   the thought came over me like a wave of the sea, “I am ashamed of confessing
   my sin!” What! thought I, ashamed of being found speaking with God! O, how
   ashamed I felt of this shame! I can never describe the strong and
   overpowering impression which this thought made on my mind. I cried aloud at
   the very top of my voice, for I felt that though all the men on earth and
   all the devils in hell were present to hear and see me I would not shrink
   and would not cease to cry unto God; for what is it to me if others see me
   seeking the face of my God and Saviour? I am hastening to the judgment:
   there I shall not be ashamed to have the Judge my friend. There I shall not
   be ashamed to have sought His face and His pardon here. There will be no
   shrinking away from the gaze of the universe. O, if sinners at the judgment
   could shrink away, how gladly would they; but they cannot! Nor can they
   stand there in each other’s places to answer for each other’s sins. That
   young woman, can she say then—O, my brother, you must answer for me; for to
   please you, I rejected Christ and lost my soul? That brother is himself a
   guilty rebel, confounded, and agonized, and quailing before the awful Judge,
   and how can he befriend you in such an awful hour! Fear not his displeasure
   now, but rather warn him while you can, to escape for his life ere the wrath
   of the Lord wax hot against him, and there be no remedy.

   12. If you would be saved, you must not indulge prejudices against either
   God, or His ministers, or against Christians, or against anything religious.

   There are some persons of peculiar temperament who are greatly in danger of
   losing their souls because they are tempted to strong prejudices. Once
   committed either in favour of or against any persons or things they are
   exceedingly apt to become so fixed as never more to be really honest. And
   when these persons or things in regard to which they become committed, are
   so connected with religion, that their prejudices stand arrayed against
   their fulfilling the great conditions of salvation, the effect can be
   nothing else than ruinous. For it is naturally indispensable to salvation
   that you should be entirely honest. Your soul must act before God in the
   open sincerity of truth, or you cannot be converted.

   I have known persons in revivals to remain a long time under great
   conviction, without submitting themselves to God, and by careful inquiry I
   have found them wholly hedged in by their prejudices, and yet so blind to
   this fact that they would not admit that they had any prejudice at all. In
   my observation of convicted sinners, I have found this among the most common
   obstacles in the way of the salvation of souls. Men become committed against
   religion, and remaining in this state it is naturally impossible that they
   should repent. God will not humour your prejudices, or lower His prescribed
   conditions of salvation to accommodate your feelings.

   Again, you must. give up all hostile feelings in cases where you have been
   really injured. Sometimes I have seen persons evidently shut out from the
   kingdom of heaven, because having been really injured, they would not
   forgive and forget, but maintained such a spirit of resistance and revenge,
   that they could not, in the nature of the case, repent of the sin toward
   God, nor could God forgive them. Of course they lost heaven. I have heard
   men say, “I cannot forgive—I will not forgive—I have been injured, and I
   never will forgive that wrong.” Now mark: you must not hold on to such
   feelings; if you do, you cannot be saved.

   Again, you must not suffer yourself to be stumbled by the prejudices of
   others. I have often been struck with the state of things in families, where
   the parents or older persons had prejudices against the minister, and have
   wondered why those parents were not more wise than to lay stumbling-blocks
   before their children to ruin their souls. This is often the true reason why
   children are not converted. Their minds are turned against the Gospel, by
   being turned against those from whom they hear it preached. I would rather
   have persons come into my family, and curse and swear before my children,
   than to have them speak against those who preach to them the Gospel.
   Therefore I say to all parents—take care what you say, if you would not shut
   the gate of heaven against your children!

   Again, do not allow yourself to take some fixed position, and then suffer
   the stand you have taken to debar you from doing any obvious duty. Persons
   sometimes allow themselves to be committed against taking what is called
   “the anxious seat;” and consequently they refuse to go forward under
   circumstances when it is obviously proper that they should, and where their
   refusal to do so, places them in an attitude unfavourable, and perhaps fatal
   to their conversion. Let every sinner beware of this!

   Again, do not hold on to anything about which you have any doubt of its
   lawfulness or propriety. Cases often occur in which persons are not fully
   satisfied that a thing is wrong, and yet are not satisfied that it is right.
   Now in cases of this sort it should not be enough to say, “such and such
   Christians do so;” you ought to have better reasons than this for your
   course of conduct. If you ever expect to be saved, you must abandon all
   practices which you even suspect to be wrong. This principle seems to be
   involved in the passage, “He that doubteth is damned if he eat; for
   whatsoever is not of faith is sin.” To do that which is of doubtful
   propriety is to allow yourself to tamper with the divine authority, and
   cannot fail to break down in your mind that solemn dread of sinning which,
   if you would ever be saved, you must carefully cherish.

   Again, if you would be saved, do not look at professors and wait for them to
   become engaged as they should be in the great work of God. If they are not
   what they ought to be, let them alone. Let them bear their own awful
   responsibility. It often happens that convicted sinners compare themselves
   with professed Christians, and excuse themselves for delaying their duty,
   because professed Christians are delaying theirs. Sinners must not do this
   if they would ever be saved. It is very probable that you will always find
   guilty professors enough to stumble over into hell if you will allow
   yourself to do so.

   But on the other hand, many professors may not be nearly so bad as you
   suppose, and you must not be censorious, putting the worst constructions
   upon their conduct. You have other work to do than this. Let them stand or
   fall to their own master. Unless you abandon the practice of picking flaws
   in the conduct of professed Christians, it is utterly impossible that you
   should be saved.

   Again, do not depend upon professors—on their prayers or influence in any
   way. I have known children hang a long time upon the prayers of their
   parents, putting those prayers in the place of Jesus Christ, or at least in
   the place of their own present efforts to do their duty. Now this course
   pleases Satan entirely. He would ask nothing more to make sure of you.
   Therefore, depend on no prayers—not even those of the holiest Christians on
   earth. The matter of your conversion lies between yourself and God alone, as
   really as if you were the only sinner in all the world, or as if there were
   no other beings in the universe but yourself and your God.

   Do not seek for any apology or excuse whatever. I dwell upon this and urge
   it the more because I so often find persons resting on some excuse without
   being themselves aware of it. In conversation with them upon their spiritual
   state, I see this and say, “There you are resting on that excuse.” “Am I?”
   say they, “I did not know it.”

   Do not seek for stumbling-blocks. Sinners, a little disturbed in their
   stupidity, begin to cast about for stumbling-blocks for self-vindication.
   All at once they become wide awake to the faults of professors, as if they
   had to bear the care of all the churches. The real fact is, they are all
   engaged to find something to which they can take exception, so that they can
   thereby blunt the keen edge of truth upon their own consciences. This never
   helps along their own salvation.

   Do not tempt the forbearance of God. If you do, you are in the utmost danger
   of being given over forever. Do not presume that you may go on yet longer in
   your sins, and still find the gate of mercy. This presumption has paved the
   way for the ruin of many souls.

   Do not despair of salvation and settle down in unbelief, saying, “There is
   no mercy for me.” You must not despair in any such sense as to shut yourself
   out from the kingdom. You may well despair of being saved without Christ and
   without repentance; but you are bound to believe the Gospel; and to do this
   is to believe the glad tidings that Jesus Christ has come to save sinners,
   even the chief, and that “Him that cometh to Him He will in no wise cast
   out.” You have no right to disbelieve this, and act as if there were no
   truth in it.

   You must not wait for more conviction. Why do you need any more? You know
   your guilt and know your present duty. Nothing can be more preposterous,
   therefore, than to wait for more conviction. If you did not know that you
   are a sinner, or that you are guilty for sin, there might be some fitness in
   seeking for conviction of the truth on these points.

   Do not wait for more or for different feelings. Sinners are often saying,
   “I must feel differently before I can come to Christ,” or, “I must have more
   feeling.” As if this were the great thing which God requires of them. In
   this they are altogether mistaken.

   Do not wait to be better prepared. While you wait you are growing worse and
   worse, and are fast rendering your salvation impossible.

   Don’t wait for God to change your heart. Why should you wait for Him to do
   what Heo His command?

   Don’t try to recommend yourself to God by prayers or tears or by anything
   else whatsoever. Do you suppose your prayers lay God under any obligation to
   forgive you? Suppose you owed a man five hundred talents, and should go a
   hundred times a week and beg him to remit to you this debt; and then should
   enter your prayers in account against your creditor, as so much claim
   against him. Suppose you should pursue this course till you had canceled the
   debt, as you suppose— could you hope to prove anything by this course except
   that you were mad? And yet sinners seem to suppose that their many prayers
   and tears lay the Lord under real obligation to them to forgive them.

   Never rely on. anything else whatever than Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.
   It is preposterous for you to hope, as many do, to make some propitiation by
   your own sufferings. In my early experience I thought I could not expect to
   be converted at once, but must be bowed down a long time. I said to myself,
   “God will not pity me till I feel worse than I do now. I can’t expect Him to
   forgive me till I feel a greater agony of soul than this.” Not even if I
   could have gone on augmenting my sufferings till they equalled the miseries
   of hell, it could not have changed God. The fact is, God does not ask of you
   that you should suffer. Your sufferings cannot in the nature of the case
   avail for atonement. Why, therefore, should you attempt to thrust aside the
   system of God’s providing, and thrust in one of your own?

   There is another view of the case. The thing God demands of you is that you
   should bow your stubborn will to Him. Just as a child in the attitude of
   disobedience, and required to submit, might fall to weeping and groaning,
   and to every expression of agony, and might even torture himself, in hope of
   moving the pity of his father, but all the time refuses to submit to
   parental authority. He would be very glad to put his own sufferings in the
   place of the submission demanded. This is what the sinner is doing. He would
   fain put his own sufferings in the place of submission to God, and move the
   pity of the Lord so much that He would recede from the hard condition of
   repentance and submission.

   If you would be saved you must not listen at all to those who pity you, and
   who impliedly take your part against God, and try to make you think you are
   not so bad as you are. I once knew a woman who, after a long season of
   distressing conviction, fell into great despair; her health sank, and she
   seemed about to die. All this time she found no relief, but seemed only to
   wax worse and worse, sinking down in stem and awful despair. Her friends,
   instead of dealing plainly and faithfully with her, and probing her guilty
   heart to the bottom, had taken the course of pitying her, and almost
   complained of the Lord that He would not have compassion on the poor
   agonized, dying woman. At length, as she seemed in the last stages of
   life—so weak as to be scarcely able to speak in a low voice, there happened
   in a minister who better understood how to deal with convicted sinners. The
   woman’s friends cautioned him to deal very carefully with her, as she was in
   a dreadful state and greatly to be pitied; but he judged it best to deal
   with her very faithfully. As he approached her bed-side, she raised her
   faint voice and begged for a little water. “Unless you repent, you will soon
   be,” said he, “where there is not a drop of water to cool your tongue.”
   “O,” she cried, “must I go down to hell?” “Yes, you must, and you will,
   soon, unless you repent and submit to God. Why don’t you repent and submit
   immediately?” “O,” she replied, “it is an awful thing to go to hell!” “Yes,
   and for that very reason Christ has provided an atonement through Jesus
   Christ, but you won’t accept it. He brings the cup of salvation to your
   lips, and you thrust it away. Why will you do this? Why will you persist in
   being an enemy of God and scorn His offered salvation, when you might become
   His friend and have salvation if you would?”

   This was the strain of their conversation, and its result was, that the
   woman saw her guilt and her duty, and turning to the Lord, found pardon and
   peace.

   Therefore I say, if your conscience convicts you of sin, don’t let anybody
   take your part against God. Your wound needs not a plaster, but a probe.
   Don’t fear the probe; it is the only thing that can save you. Don’t seek to
   hide your guilt, or veil your eyes from seeing it, nor be afraid to know the
   worst, for you must know the very worst, and the sooner you know it the
   better. I warn you, don’t look after some physician to give you an opiate,
   for you don’t need it. Shun, as you would. death itself, all those who would
   speak to you smooth things and prophesy deceits. They would surely ruin your
   soul.

   Again, do not suppose that if you become a Christian, it will interfere with
   any of the necessary or appropriate duties of life, or with anything
   whatever to which you ought to attend. No; religion never interferes with
   any real duty. So far is this from being the case, that in fact a proper
   attention to your various duties is indispensable to your being religious.
   You cannot serve God without.

   Moreover, if you would be saved you must not give heed to anything that ld
   be saved. No consideration thrown in your way should be allowed to have the
   weight of a straw or a feather. Jesus Christ has illustrated and enforced
   this by several parables, especially in the one which compares the kingdom
   of heaven to “a merchant-man seeking goodly pearls, who when he had found
   one pearl of great price went and sold all that he had and bought it.” In
   another parable, the kingdom of heaven is said to be “like treasure hid in a
   field, which, when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth
   and selleth all that he hath and buyeth that field.” Thus forcibly are men
   taught that they must be ready to make any sacrifice whatever which may be
   requisite in order to gain the kingdom of heaven.

   Again, you must not seek religion selfishly. You must not make your own
   salvation or happiness the supreme end. Beware, for if you make this your
   supreme end you will get a false hope, and will probably glide along down
   the pathway of the hypocrite into the deepest hell.
     _________________________________________________________________

II. What sinners must do to be saved.

   1. You must understand what you have to do. It is of the utmost importance
   that you should see this clearly. You need to know that you must return to
   God, and to understand what this means. The difficulty between yourself and
   God is that you have stolen yourself and run away from His service. You
   belong of right to God. He created you for Himself, and hence had a
   perfectly righteous claim to the homage of your heart, and the service of
   your life. But you, instead of living to meet His claims, have run away—have
   deserted from God’s service, and have lived to please yourself. Now your
   duty is to return and restore yourself to God.

   2. You must return and confess your sins to God. You must confess that you
   have been all wrong, and that God has been all right. Go before the Lord and
   lay open the depth of your guilt. Tell Him you deserve just as much
   damnation as He has threatened.

   These confessions are naturally indispensable to your being forgiven. In
   accordance with this the Lord says, “If then their uncircumcised hearts be
   humbled, and they then accept of the punishment of their iniquity, then will
   I remember my covenant.” Then God can forgive. But so long as you controvert
   this point, and will not concede that God is right, or admit that you are
   wrong, He can never forgive you.

   You must moreover confess to man if you have injured any one. And is it not
   a fact that you have injured some, and perhaps many of your fellow-men? Have
   you not slandered your neighbour and said things which you have no right to
   say? Have you not in some instances, which you could call to mind if you
   would, lied to them, or about them, or covered up or perverted the truth;
   and have you not been willing that others should have false impressions of
   you or of your conduct? If so, you must renounce all such iniquity, for “He
   that covereth his sins shall not prosper; while he that confesseth and
   forsaketh them shall find mercy.” And, furthermore, you must not only
   confess your sins to God and to the men you have injured, but you must also
   make restitution. You have not taken the position of a penitent before, God
   and man until you have done this also.

   God cannot treat you as a penitent until you have done it.

   I do not mean by this that God cannot forgive you until you have carried
   into effect your purpose of restitution by finishing the outward act, for
   sometimes it may demand time, and may in some cases be itself impossible to
   you. But the purpose must be sincere and thorough before you can be forgiven
   of God.

   3. You must renounce yourself. In this is implied,

   (1.) That you renounce your own righteousness, forever discarding the very
   idea of having any righteousness in yourself.

   (2.) That you forever relinquish the idea of having done any good which
   ought to commend you to God, or be ever thought of as a ground of your
   justification.

   (3.) That you renounce your own will, and be ever ready to say not in word
   only, but in heart, “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” You
   must consent most heartily that God’s will shall be your supreme law.

   (4.) That you renounce your own way and let God have His own way in
   everything. Never suffer yourself to fret and be rasped by anything
   whatever; for since God’s agency extends to all events, you ought to
   recognize His hand in all things; and of course to fret at anything whatever
   is to fret against God who has at least permitted that thing to occur as it
   does. So long, therefore, as you suffer yourself to fret, you are not right
   with God. You must become before God as a little child, subdued and trustful
   at His feet. Let the weather be fair or foul, consent that God should have
   His way. Let all things go well with you, or as men call it, ill; yet let
   God do His pleasure, and let it be your part to submit in perfect
   resignation. Until you take this ground you cannot be saved.

   4. You must come to Christ. You must accept of Christ really and fully as
   your Saviour. Renouncing all thought of depending on anything you have done
   or can do, you must accept of Christ as your atoning sacrifice, and as your
   ever-living Mediator before God. Without the least qualification or reserve
   you must place yourself under His wing as your Saviour.

   5. You must seek supremely to please Christ, and not yourself. It is
   naturally impossible that you should be saved until you come into this
   attitude of mind—until you are so well pleased with Christ in all respects
   as to find your pleasure in doing His. It is in the nature of things
   impossible that you should be happy in any other state of mind, or unhappy
   in this. For, His pleasure is infinitely good and right. When, therefore,
   His good pleasure becomes your good pleasure, and your will harmonizes
   entirely with His, then you will be happy for the same reason that He is
   happy, and you cannot fail of being happy any more than Jesus Christ can.
   And this becoming supremely happy in God’s will is essentially the idea of
   salvation. In this state of mind you are saved. Out of it you cannot be.

   It has often struck my mind with great force, that many professors of
   religion are deplorably and utterly mistaken on this point. Their real
   feeling is that Christ’s service is an iron collar—an insufferably hard
   yoke. Hence, they labour exceedingly to throw off some of this burden. They
   try to make it out that Christ does not require much, if any,
   self-denial—much, if any, deviation from the course of worldliness and sin.
   O, if they could only get the standard of Christian duty quite down to a
   level with the fashions and customs of this world! How much easier then to
   live a Christian life and wear Christ’s yoke!

   But taking Christ’s yoke as it really is, it becomes in their view an iron
   collar. Doing the will of Christ, instead of their own, is a hard business.
   Now if doing Christ’s will is religion, (and who can doubt it?) then they
   only need enough of it; and in their state of mind they will be supremely
   wretched. Let me ask those who groan under the idea that they must be
   religious—who deem it awful hard—but they must—how much religion of this
   kind would it take to make hell? Surely not much! When it gives you no joy
   to do God’s pleasure, and yet you are shut up to the doing of His pleasure
   is the only way to be saved, and are thereby perpetually dragooned into the
   doing of what you hate, as the only means of escaping hell, would not this
   be itself a hell? Can you not see that in this state of mind you are not
   saved and cannot be?

   To be saved you must come into a state of mind in which you will ask no
   higher joy than to do God’s pleasure. This alone will be forever enough to
   fill your cup to overflowing.

   You must have all confidence in Christ, or you cannot so saved. You must
   absolutely believe in Him—believe all His words of promise. They were given
   you to be believed, and unless you believe them they can do you no good at
   all. So far from helping you without you exercise faith in them, they will
   only aggravate your guilt for unbelief. God would be believed when He speaks
   in love to lost sinners. He gave them these “exceeding great and precious
   promises, that they, by faith in them, might escape the corruption that is
   in the world through lust.” But thousands of professors of religion know not
   how to use these promises, and as to them or any profitable use they make,
   the promises might as well have been written on the sands of the sea.

   Sinners, too, will go down to hell in unbroken masses, unless they believe
   and take hold of God by faith in His promise. O, His awful wrath is out
   against them! And He says, “I would go through them, I would burn them up
   together; or let him take hold of My strength, that he may make peace with
   Me, and he shall make peace with Me.” Yes, let him stir up himself and take
   hold of My arm, strong to save, and then he may make peace with Me. Do you
   ask how take hold? By faith. Yes, by faith; believe His words and take hold;
   take hold of His strong arm and swing right out over hell, and don’t be
   afraid any more than if there were no hell.

   But you say—I do believe, and yet I am not saved. No, you don’t believe. A
   woman said to me, “I believe, I know I do, and yet here I am in my sins.”
   No, said 1, you don’t. Have you as much confidence in God as you would have
   in me if I had promised you a dollar? Do you ever pray to God? And, if so,
   do you come with any such confidence as you would have if you came to me to
   ask for a promised dollar? Oh, until you have as much faith in God as this,
   aye and more— until you have more confidence in God than you would have in
   ten thousand men, your faith does not honour God, and you cannot hope to
   please Him. You must say—Let God be true though every man be a liar.”

   But you say, “O, I am a sinner, and how can I believe? I know you are a
   sinner, and so are all men to whom God has given these promises. “O, but I
   am a great sinner!” Well, “It is a faithful saying and worthy of all
   acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of
   whom,” Paul says, “I am the chief” So you need not despair.

   7. You must forsake all that you have, or you cannot be Christ’s disciple.
   There must be absolute and total self-denial.

   By this I do not mean that you are never to eat again, or never again to
   clothe yourself, or never more enjoy the society of your friends—no, not
   this; but that you should cease entirely from using any of these enjoyments
   selfishly. You must no longer think to own yourself: your time, your
   possessions, or anything you have ever called your own. All these things you
   must hold as God’s, not yours. In this sense you are to forsake all that you
   have, namely, in the sense of laying all upon God’s altar to be devoted
   supremely and only to His service. When you come back to God for pardon and
   salvation, come with all you have to lay all at his feet. Come with your
   body, to offer it as a living sacrifice upon His altar. Come with your soul
   and all its powers, and yield them in willing consecration to your God and
   Saviour. Come, bring them all along—everything, body, soul, intellect,
   imagination, acquirements—all, without reserve. Do you say—Must I bring them
   all? Yes, all—absolutely ALL; do not keep back anything—don’t sin against
   your own soul, like Ananias and Sapphira, by keeping back a part, but
   renounce your own claim to everything, and recognize God’s right to all.
   Say—Lord, these things are not mine. I had stolen them, but they were never
   mine. They were always Thine; I’ll have them no longer. Lord, these things
   are all Thine, henceforth and forever. Now, what wilt Thou have me to do? I
   have no business of my own to do—I am wholly at Thy disposal. Lord, what
   work hast Thou for me to do?

   In this spirit you must renounce the world, the flesh, and Satan. Your
   fellowship is henceforth to be with Christ, and not with those objects. You
   are to live for Christ, and not for the world, the flesh, or the devil.

   8. You must believe the record God hath given of His Son. He that believes
   not does not receive the record—does not set to his seal that God is true.
   “This is the record that God has given us eternal life, and this life is in
   His Son.” The condition of your having it is that you believe the record,
   and of course that you act accordingly. Suppose here is a poor man living at
   your next door, and the mail brings him a letter stating that a rich man has
   died in England, leaving him 100,000 pounds sterling, and the cashier of a
   neighbouring bank writes him that he has received the amount on deposit for
   him, and holds it subject to his order. Well, the poor man says, I can’t
   believe the record. I can’t believe there ever was any such rich man; I
   can’t believe there is 100,000 pounds for me. So he must live and die as
   poor as Lazarus, because he won’t believe the record.

   Now, mark; this is just the case with the unbelieving sinner. God has given
   you eternal life, and it waits your order; but you don’t get it because you
   will not believe, and therefore will not make out the order, and present in
   due form the application.

   Ah, but you say, I must have some feeling before I can believe—how can I
   believe till I have the feeling? So the poor man might say—How can I believe
   that the 100,000 pounds is mine; I have not got a farthing of it now; I am
   as poor as ever. Yes, you are poor because you will not believe. If you
   would believe, you might go and buy out every store in this country. Still
   you cry, I am as poor as ever. I can’t believe it; see my poor worn
   clothes—I was never more ragged in my life; I have not a particle of the
   feeling and the comforts of a rich man. So the sinner can’t believe till he
   gets the inward experience! He must wait to have some of the feeling of a
   saved sinner before he can believe the record and take hold of the
   salvation! Preposterous enough! So the poor man must wait to get his new
   clothes and fine house before he can believe his documents and draw for his
   money. Of course he dooms himself to everlasting poverty, although mountains
   of gold were all his own.

   Now, sinner, you must understand this. Why should you be lost when eternal
   life is bought and offered you by the last will and testament of the Lord
   Jesus Christ? Will you not believe the record and draw for the amount at
   once! Do for mercy’s sake understand this and not lose heaven by your own
   folly!

   I must conclude by saying, that if you would be saved you must accept a
   prepared salvation, one already prepared and full, and present. You must be
   willing to give up all your sins, and be saved from them, all, now and
   henceforth! Until you consent to this, you cannot be saved at all. Many
   would be willing to be saved in heaven, if they might hold on to some sins
   while on earth—or rather they think they would Eke heaven on such terms. But
   the fact is, they would as much dislike a pure heart and a holy life in
   heaven as they do on earth, and they deceive themselves utterly in supposing
   that they are ready or even willing to go to such a heaven as God has
   prepared for His people. No, there can be no heaven except for those who
   accept a salvation from all sin in this world. They must take the Gospel as
   a system which holds no compromise with sin—which contemplates full
   deliverance from sin even now, and makes provision accordingly. Any other
   gospel is not the true one, and to accept of Christ’s Gospel in any other
   sense is not to accept it all. Its first and its last condition is swarn and
   eternal renunciation of all sin.
     _________________________________________________________________

REMARKS

   1. Paul did not give the same answer to this question which a consistent
   Universalist would give. The latter would say, You are to be saved by being
   first punished according to your sin. All men must expect to be punished all
   that their sins deserve. But Paul did not answer thus. Miserable comforter
   had he been if he had answered after this sort: “You must all be punished
   according to the letter of the law you have broken.” This could scarcely
   have been called gospel.

   Nor again did Paul give the Universalist’s answer and say, “Do not concern
   yourself about this matter of being saved, all men are sure enough of being
   saved without any particular anxiety about it.” Not so Paul; no—he
   understood and did not forbear to express the necessity of believing on the
   Lord Jesus Christ as the condition of being saved.

   2. Take care that you do not sin willfully after saying understood the truth
   concerning the way of salvation. Your danger of this is great precisely in
   proportion as you see your duty clearly. The most terrible damnation must
   fall on the head of those who “knew their duty, but who did it not.” When,
   therefore, you are told plainly and truly what your duty is, be on your
   guard lest you let salvation slip out of your hands. It may never come so
   near your reach again.

   3. Do not wait, even to go home, before you obey God. Make up your mind now,
   at once, to close in with the offers of salvation. Why not? Are they not
   most reasonable?

   4. Let your mind act upon this great proposal and embrace it just as you
   would any other important proposition. God lays the proposition before you;
   you hear it explained, and you understand it; now the next and only
   remaining step is—to embrace it with all your heart. just as any other great
   question (we may suppose it a question of life or death) might come before a
   community—the case be fully stated, the conditions explained, and then the
   issue is made. Will you subscribe? Will you engage to meet these conditions?
   Do you heartily embrace the proposition? Now all this would be intelligible.

   Just so, now, in the case of the sinner. You understand the proposition. You
   know the conditions of salvation. You understand the contract into which you
   are to enter with your God and Saviour. You covenant to give your all to
   God—to lay yourself upon His altar to be used up there just as He pleases to
   use you. And now the only remaining question is, Will you consent to this at
   once? Will you go for full and everlasting consecration with all your heart?

   5. The jailer made no excuse. When he knew his duty, in a moment he yielded.
   Paul told him what to do, and he did it. Possibly he might have heard
   something about Paul’s preaching before this night; but probably not much.
   But now he fears for his life. How often have I been struck with this case!
   There was a dark-minded heathen. He had heard, we must suppose, a great deal
   of slang about these apostles; but notwithstanding all, he came to them for
   truth; hearing, he is convinced, and being convinced, he yields at once.
   Paul uttered a single sentence—he received it, embraced it, and it is done.

   Now you, sinner, know and admit all this truth, and yet infinitely strange
   as it is, you will not, in a moment, believe and embrace it with all your
   heart. O, will not Sodom and Gomorrah rise up against you in the judgment
   and condemn you! That heathen jailer—how could you bear to see him on that
   dread day, and stand rebuked by his example there!

   6. It is remarkable that Paul said nothing about the jailer’s needing any
   help in order to believe and repent. He did not even mention the work of the
   Spirit, or allude to the jailer’s need of it. But it should be noticed that
   Paul gave the jailer just those directions which would most effectually
   secure the Spirit’s aid and promote his action.

   7. The jailer seems to have made no delay at all, waiting for no future or
   better time; but as soon as the conditions are before him be yields and
   embraces; no sooner is the proposition made than he seizes upon it in a
   moment.

   I was once preaching in a village in New York, and there sat before me a
   lawyer who had been greatly offended with the Gospel. But that day I noticed
   he sat with fixed eye and open mouth, leaned forward as if he would seize
   each word as it came. I was explaining and simplifying the Gospel, and when
   I came to state just how the Gospel is offered to men, he said to me
   afterwards: I snatched at it—I put out my hand, (suiting the action to the
   thought), and seized it —and it became mine.

   So in my own case while in the woods praying, after I had burst away from
   the fear of man, and began to give scope to my feelings, this passage fell
   upon me, “Ye shall seek for Me and find Me when ye shall search for Me with
   all your heart.” For the first time in the world I found that I believed a
   passage in the Bible. I had supposed that I believed before, but surely
   never before as I now did. Now, said I to myself, “This is the word of the
   everlasting God. My God, I take Thee at Thy word. Thou sayest I shall find
   Thee when I search for Thee with all my heart, and now, Lord, I do search
   for Thee, I know, with all my heart.” And true enough, I did find the Lord.
   Never in all my life was I more certain of anything than I was then that I
   had found the Lord.

   This is the very idea of His promises—they were made to be believed—to be
   laid hold of as God’s own words, and acted upon as if they actually meant
   just what they say. When God says, “Look unto Me and be ye saved,” He would
   have us look unto Him as if He really had salvation in His hands to give,
   and withal a heart to give it. The true spirit of faith is well expressed by
   the Psalmist, “When Thou saidst, `Seek ye my face,’ my heart replied—‘Thy
   face, Lord, will I seek.” This is the way—let your heart at once respond to
   the blessed words of invitation and of promise.

   Ah, but you say, I am not a Christian. And you never will be till you
   believe on the Lord Jesus Christ as your Saviour. If you never become a
   Christian, the reason will be because you do not and will not believe the
   Gospel and embrace it with all your heart.

   The promises were made to be believed, and belong to an one who will believe
   them. They reach forth their precious words to all, and whoever will, may
   take them as his own. Now will you believe that the Father has given you
   eternal life? This is the fact declared; will you believe it?

   You have now been told what you must not do and what you must do to be
   saved; are you pre pared to act? Do you say, I am ready to renounce my own
   pleasure, and henceforth seek no other pleasure than to please God? Can you
   forego everything else for the sake of this?

   Sinner, do you want to please God, or would you choose to please yourself?
   Are you willing now to please God and to begin by believing on the Lord
   Jesus Christ unto salvation? Will you be as simple-hearted as the jailer
   was? And act as promptly?

   I demand your decision now. I dare not have you go home first, lest you get
   to talking about something else, and let slip these words of life and this
   precious opportunity to grasp an offered salvation. And whom do you suppose
   I am now addressing? Every impenitent sinner in this house—every one. I call
   heaven and earth to record that I have set the Gospel before you today. Will
   you take it? Is it not reasonable for you to decide at once? Are you ready,
   now, to say before high heaven and before this congregation, “I will
   renounce myself and yield to God! I am the Lord’s, and let all men and
   angels bear me witness—I am forevermore the Lord’s.” Sinner, the infinite
   God waits for your consent!
     _________________________________________________________________

              XI. THE SINNER’S NATURAL POWER AND MORAL WEAKNESS.

   “Of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he brought in bondage.”-2 Peter
   ii. 19.

   I PROPOSE in my present discourse to discuss the moral state of the sinner.
     _________________________________________________________________

I. All men are naturally free

   The first important fact to be noted is, that all men are naturally free,
   and none the less so for being sinners. They naturally have freedom of will.

   By natural freedom I do not mean that they have a right to do as they
   please; for this can by no means be true. Nor do I mean that they are free
   agents merely in the sense of being able to do as they will to do. In fact,
   men sometimes can and sometimes can not execute their purposes of will; but
   be this as it may, moral liberty does not consist in the power to accomplish
   one’s purposes. You are aware that some old philosophers defined liberty of
   will to be the power to do what you will to do. This, for many reasons, can
   not be the true idea of freedom of the will. For look at the department of
   doing which is embraced in muscular action. The simple fact is, that some of
   our muscles are not under the control of the will at all, while others are
   under its control by a law of the sternest necessity. In regard to this
   latter class, all the freedom there is pertains to the will—none of it to
   the action of the muscles controlled by the will. It is then a sheer mistake
   to deny the location of freedom where it is, and to locate it where it is
   not. If there be any such thing as necessity in the universe, it is found in
   the absolute control held by the will over those physical muscles which are
   placed under its control. The obedience of the muscles is absolute—not free
   or voluntary in any sense whatever. Hence the absurdity of locating human
   freedom there.

   This freedom is in the will itself, and consists in its power of free
   choice. To do, or not to do—this is its option. It has by its own nature the
   function of determining its own volitions. The soul wills to do or not to
   do, and thus is a moral sovereign over its own activities. In this fact lies
   the foundation for moral agency. A being so constituted that he can will to
   do or not to do, and has moreover knowledge and appreciation of his moral
   obligations, is a moral agent. None other can be.

   It deserves special notice here that every man knows that he has a
   conscience which tells him how he ought to act, as well as a moral power in
   the exercise of which he can either heed or repel its monitions.

   That a man is free in the sense of determining his own activities is proved
   by each man’s own consciousness. This proof requires no chain of reasoning.
   It is strong as need be, without any reasoning at all. A man is just as much
   aware and as well aware of originating his own acts as he is of acting at
   all. Does he really act himself? Yes. And does he know that he acts himself?
   Yes. How does he know these things?, By consciousness. But he has the same
   evidence of being free—for this is equally proved by his own consciousness.

   Still further: man can distinguish between those acts in which he is free,
   and those in which he is acted upon by influences independent of his own
   choice. He knows that in some things he is a recipient of influences and of
   actions exerted upon himself, while in other things he is not a recipient in
   the same sense, but a voluntary actor. The fact of this discrimination
   proves the possession of free agency.

   The difference to which I now refer is one of everyday consciousness.
   Sometimes a man can not tell whence his thoughts come. Impressions are made
   upon his mind the origin of which be can not trace. They may be from
   above—they may be from beneath: he knows but little of their source, and
   little about them, save that they are not his own free volitions. Of his own
   acts of will there can be no such uncertainty. He knows their origin. He
   knows that they are the product of an original power in himself, for the
   exercise of which he is compelled to hold himself primarily responsible.

   Not only has he this direct consciousness, but he has, as already suggested,
   the testimony of his own conscience. This faculty, by its very nature, takes
   cognizance of his moral acts, requiring certain acts of will and forbidding
   others. This faculty is an essential condition of free moral agency.
   Possessing it, and also man’s other mental powers, he must be free and under
   moral obligation.

   It is inconceivable that man should be under moral law and government,
   without the power of free moral action. The logical condition of the
   existence of a conscience in man is that he should be free.

   That man is free is evident from the fact that he is conscious of praise or
   blameworthiness. He could not reasonably blame himself unless it were a
   first truth that he is free. By a first truth, I mean one that is known to
   all by a necessity of their own nature. There are such truths—those which
   none can help knowing, however much they may de. sire to ignore them. Now
   unless it were a first truth, necessarily known to all, that man is free, he
   could not praise or blame himself.

   As conscience implies moral agency, so, where there is a conscience, it is
   impossible for men really to deny moral responsibility. Men can not but
   blame themselves for wrong doing. Conscious of the forewarning of conscience
   against the wrong act, how can they evade the conviction that the act was
   wrong?

   Again, the Bible always treats men as free agents, commanding them to do or
   not to do as if of course they had all the power requisite to obey such
   commands. A young minister once said to me, “I preach that men ought to
   repent, but never that they can.” ”Why not preach also that they can?” said
   I. He replied, “The Bible does not affirm that they can.” To this I replied
   that it would be most consummate trifling for a human legislature, having
   required certain acts, to proceed to affirm that its subjects have the power
   to obey. The very requirement is the strongest possible affirmation, that in
   the belief of the enacting power, the subjects are able to do the things
   required. If the law-makers did not believe this, how in reason could they
   require it? The very first assumption to be made concerning good rulers is,
   that they have common sense and common honesty. To deny, virtually, that God
   has these qualities, is blasphemous.

   Freedom of will lies among the earliest and most resistless convictions.
   Probably no one living can remember his first idea of oughtness—his first
   convictions of right and wrong. It is also among our most irresistible
   convictions. We assume the freedom of our own will from the very first. The
   little child affirms it in its first infantile efforts to accomplish its
   purposes. See him reach forth to get his food or his playthings. The little
   machinery of a freely acting agent begins to play long ere he can understand
   it. He begins to act on his own responsibility, long before he can estimate
   what or how great this responsibility is. The fact of personal
   responsibility is fastened on us so that we might as well escape from
   ourselves as from this conviction.
     _________________________________________________________________

II. Men are in moral bondage

   While it is true, past a rational denial, that men have this attribute of
   moral liberty, it is equally true that they are morally enslaved—in moral
   bondage. The liberty they have by created constitution; the bondage comes by
   voluntary perversion and abuse of their powers.

   The Bible represents men as being in bondage. As having the power to resist
   temptation to sin, but yet as voluntarily yielding to those temptations.
   Just as our dough-faced politicians might, but do not and will not, resist
   the demands of the slave power. Just such is the bondage of sinners under
   temptation. The Bible represents Satan as ruling the hearts of men at his
   will, just as the men who wield the slave power of the South rule the dough
   faces of the North at their will, dictating the choice of our Presidents and
   the entire legislation of the Federal Government. So Satan ruled Eve in the
   garden; so he now “works in the children of disobedience.”

   What the Bible thus represents, experience proves to be true. Wicked men
   know that they are in bondage to Satan. What do you think puts it into the
   heart of young men to plot iniquity and drink it in like water? Is it not
   the devil? How many young men do we meet with who, when tempted, seem to
   have no moral stamina to resist, but are swept away by the first gust of
   temptation.

   Men are in bondage to their appetites. Appetite excited leads them away as
   it led Eve and Adam. What can be the reason that some young men find it so
   hard to give up the use of tobacco? They know the habit is filthy and
   disgusting; they know it must injure their health; but appetite craves, and
   the devil helps on its demands; the poor victim makes a feeble effort to
   deliver himself, but the devil turns the screw again and holds him the
   tighter, and then drags him back to a harder bondage.

   So when a man is in bondage to alcohol, and so with every form of sensual
   indulgence. Satan helps on the influence of sensuality, and does not care
   much what the particular form of it may be, provided its power be strong
   enough to ruin, the soul. It all plays into his hand and promotes his main
   purpose.

   So men are in bondage to the love of money; to the fashions of the world: to
   the opinions of mankind. By these they are enslaved and led on in the face
   of the demands of duty. Every man is really enslaved who is in fact led
   counter to his convictions of duty. He is free only when he acts in
   accordance with those convictions. This is the true idea of liberty. Only
   when reason and conscience control the will is a man free—for God made men
   intelligent and moral beings to act normally, under the influence of their
   own enlightened conscience and reason. This is such freedom as God exercises
   and enjoys; none can be higher or nobler. But when a moral agent is in
   bondage to his low appetites and passions, and is led by them to disregard
   the dictates of his conscience and of his reason, he is simply a galley
   slave, and to a very hard and cruel master.

   God made men to be free, giving them just such mental powers as they need in
   order to control their own activities as a rational being should wish to.
   Their bondage, then, is altogether voluntary. They choose to resist the
   control of reason, and submit to the control of appetite and passion.

   Every impenitent man is conscious of being really in bondage to temptation.
   What man, not saved from sin through grace, does not know that he is an
   enigma to himself? I should have little respect for any man who should say
   he was never ashamed of himself, and never found himself doing things he
   could not well account for. Especially I should be ashamed and afraid, too,
   if I were to hear a student say he had never been impressed with a sense of
   his moral weakness. Such ignorance would only show his utter lack of
   reflection, and his consequent failure to notice the most obvious moral
   phenomena of his inner life. What! does he not know that his weakest desires
   carry his will, the strongest convictions of his reason and conscience to
   the contrary notwithstanding?

   This is a most guilty state, because so altogether voluntary—so needless,
   and so opposed to the convictions of his reason and of his understanding,
   and withal so opposed to his convictions of God’s righteous demands. To go
   counter to such convictions, he must be supremely guilty.

   Of course such conduct must be most suicidal. The sinner acts in most
   decided opposition to his own best interests, so that if he has the power to
   ruin himself this course must certainly do it. The course he pursues is of
   all others best adapted to destroy both body and soul; how, then, can it be
   anything but suicidal? He practically denies all moral obligation. And yet
   he knows the fact of his moral obligation, and denies it in the face of his
   clearest convictions. How can this be otherwise than suicidal? I have many
   times asked sinners how they could account for their own conduct. The honest
   ones answer, “I cannot at all; I am an enigma to myself.” The real
   explanation is, that while by created constitution they are free moral
   agents, yet, by the infatuation of sin, they have sold themselves into moral
   bondage, and are really slaves to Satan and their own lusts.

   This is a state of deep moral degradation. Intrinsically it is most
   disgraceful. Everybody feels this in regard to certain forms of sin and
   classes of sinners. We all feel that drunkenness is beastly. A drunkard we
   regard as a long way toward beasthood. See him reeling about, mentally
   besotted and reeking in his own filth! Is not he almost a beast? Nay, rather
   must we not ask pardon of all beasts for this comparison, for not one is so
   mean and so vile—not one excites in our bosom such a sense of voluntary
   degradation. Compared with the self-besotted drunkard, any one of them is a
   noble creature.

   So we all say, looking only from our human standpoint. But there is another
   and a better standpoint. How do angels look upon this self-made drunkard?
   They see in him one made only a little lower than themselves, and one who
   might have aspired to companionship with them; yet he chose rather to sink
   himself down to a level with swine! O how their souls must recoil from the
   sight of such self-made degradation! To see the noble quality of intellect
   discarded; and yet nobler moral qualities disowned, and trodden under foot
   as if they were only an incumbrance—this is too much for angels to bear. How
   they must feel!

   Nor is the drunkard alone in the contempt which his sensual degradation
   entails. See the tobacco-smoker. The correct taste of community demands that
   by conventional laws he be excluded from parlors, steamboat-cabins,
   first-class rail-cars, churches, and indeed all really decent places. Yet,
   for the sake of this low indulgence, the smoker is willing to descend into
   places not decent. See him steal out of his place among respectable people
   in the rail-car, and herd with rowdies in the smoking-car, for the sake of
   his filthy indulgence. If he were only obliged to ride all day in the
   society to which he sinks himself by this indulgence, it might admonish him
   of the cost of his sensuality! It might help to open his eyes!

   I have taken these forms of sensual indulgence as illustrations of the real
   degradation of sin. In these cases the good sense of mankind has been
   evinced by the grade of debasement to which they consign these votaries of
   low self-indulgence. If we only saw things in their right light we should
   take the same view of the moralist. I recollect that in talking with a great
   moralist he said, “How can I act from regard to God or to the right? How can
   I go to meeting from the high motive of pleasing God? I can go from a desire
   to promote my own selfish ends, but how can I go for the sake of pleasing
   God?”

   Yes, that is precisely his difficulty and his guilt. He does not care how
   little he pleases God! That is the least of his concern. The very lowest
   class of motives sways his will and his life. He stands entirely afar from
   the reach of the highest and noblest. In this consists his self-made
   degradation and his exceeding great guilt.

   So of the miser when he gets beyond all motives but the love of hoarding;
   when his practical question is—not, How shall I honor my race, or bless my
   generation, or glorify my Maker; but, How can I make a few coppers? Even
   when urged to pray, he would ask, “What profit shall I have if I do pray
   unto Him?” When you find a man thus incapable of being moved by noble
   motives, what a wretch he is! How ineffably mean!

   So I might bring before you the ambitious scholar, who is too low in his
   aims to be influenced by the exalted motive of doing good, and who feels
   only that which touches his reputation. Is not this exceedingly low and
   mean? What would you think of the preacher who should lose all regard for
   the welfare of souls, and think only of fishing for his reputation? What
   would you say of him? You would declare that he was too mean and too wicked
   to live, and fit only for hell! What would you think of one who might shine
   like Lucifer among the morning stars of intellect and genius, but who should
   debase himself to the low and miserable vocation of snuffing round after
   applause, and fishing for compliments to his talents? Would you not say that
   such self-seeking is unutterably contemptible? With all heaven from above
   beckoning them on to lofty purposes and efforts, there they are, working
   their “muck-rake,” and nosing after some little advantage to their small
   selves!

   See that ambitious man who so longs to please everybody that he conforms his
   own to everybody’s opinions, and never has one that is really his own! Must
   not he be low enough to satisfy any of those whose ambition seems strangely
   reversed, so that they only aspire to dive and sink—never to soar; whose
   impulses all tend downwards and never up?

   One would suppose they would have degradation enough to satisfy any ordinary
   ambition.

   All this comes of bondage to base selfishness. Alas, that there should be so
   much of this in our world that public sentiment rarely estimates it anywise
   according to its real nature!
     _________________________________________________________________

REMARKS.

   Our subject reveals the case of those who are convicted of the right, but
   cannot be persuaded to do it.

   For example, on the subject of temperance, he is convicted as to duty—knows
   he ought to reform absolutely, but yet he will not change. Every temperance
   lecture carries conviction, but the next temptation sweeps it by the board,
   and he returns like the dog to his vomit. But mark this—every successive
   process of temperance—conviction and temptation’s triumph, leaves him weaker
   than before, and very soon you will find him utterly prostrate. Miserable
   man! How certainly he will die in his sins!

   No matter what the form of the temptation may be, he who, when convinced of
   his duty, yet takes no corresponding action, is on the high-road to
   perdition. Inevitably this bondage grows stronger and stronger with every
   fresh trial of its strength. Every time you are convinced of duty and yet
   resist that conviction, and refuse to act in accordance with it, you become
   more and more helpless; you commit yourself more and more to the control of
   your iron-hearted master. Every fresh case renders you only the more fully a
   helpless slave.

   There may be some young men here who have already made themselves a moral
   wreck. There may be lads not yet sixteen who have already put their
   conscience effectually beneath their feet. Already you have learned,
   perhaps, to go against all your convictions of duty. How horrible! Every day
   your hands are growing stronger. With each day’s resistance, your soul is
   more deeply and hopelessly lost. Poor miserable, dying sinner! “He that,
   being often reproved, hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and
   that without remedy!” Suddenly, you dash upon the breakers and are gone!
   Your friends move solemnly along the shore, and took out upon those rocks of
   damnation on which your soul is wrecked, and weeping as they go, they
   mournfully say. “There is the wreck of one who knew his duty, but did it
   not, Thousands of times the appeals of conviction came home to his heart,
   but he learned to resist them—he made it his business to resist, and, alas!
   he was only too successful!”

   How insane the delusion, that the sinner’s case while yet in his sins, is
   growing better, As well might the drunkard fancy he is growing better
   because every temperance lecture convicts him of his sin and shame, while
   yet every next day’s temptation leaves him drunk as ever! Growing better!
   There can be no delusion so false and so fatal as this!

   You see the force of this delusion in clearer light when you notice how
   slight are the considerations that sway the soul against all the vast
   motives of God’s character and kingdom. Must not that be a strong and
   fearful delusion which can make considerations so slight outweigh motives so
   vast and momentous?

   The guilt of this state is to be estimated by the insignificance of the
   motives which control the mind. What would you think of the youth who could
   murder his father for a sixpence? What! you would exclaim, for so mean a
   pittance be bribed to murder his father! You would account his guilt the
   greater by how much less the temptation.

   Our subject shows the need of the Holy Spirit to impress the truth on the
   hearts of sinners.

   You may also see how certainly sinners will be lost if they grieve the
   Spirit of God away. Your earthly friends might be discouraged, and yet you
   might be saved; but if the Spirit of God becomes discouraged and leaves you,
   your doom is sealed forever. “Woe unto them when I depart from them!” This
   departure of God from the sinner gives the signal for tolling the knell of
   his lost soul. Then the mighty, angel begins to toll, TOLL, TOLL! the great
   bell of eternity: one more soul going to its eternal doom!
     _________________________________________________________________

                            XII. ON THE ATONEMENT.
     _________________________________________________________________

   “How that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures.”-1 Cor. xv.
   3.

   “For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be
   made the righteousness of God in him.”-2 Cor. v. 21.

   “But God commendeth his love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners,
   Christ died for us.”-Rom. v. 8.

   “The Lord is well pleased for his Righteousness’ sake: he will magnify the
   law and make it honorable.”-Isa. xlii. 21.

   “Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation, through faith in his blood,
   to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past,
   through the forbearance of God To declare, I say, at this time his
   righteousness: that he might be just and the justifier of him which
   believeth in JESUS.”-Rom. iii. 25, 26.

   IN this last passage, the apostle states, with unusual fullness, the
   theological, and, I might even say, the philosophical design of Christ’s
   mission to our world—that is, o set forth before created beings, God’s
   righteousness in forgiving sins. It is here said that Christ is set forth as
   a propitiation that God may be just in forgiving sin, assuming that God
   could not have been just to the universe, unless Christ had been first set
   forth as a sacrifice.

   When we seriously consider the irresistible convictions of our own minds in
   regard to our relations to God and His government, we cannot but see that we
   are sinners, and are lost beyond hope on the score of law and justice. The
   fact that we are grievous sinners against God is an ultimate fact of human
   consciousness, testified to by our irresistible convictions, and no more to
   be denied than the fact that there is such a thing as wrong.

   Now, if God be holy and good, it must be that He disapproves wrong-doing,
   and will punish it. The penalty of His law is pronounced against it. Under
   this penalty, we stand condemned, and have no relief save through some
   adequate atonement, satisfactory to God, because safe to the interests of
   His kingdom.

   Thus far we may advance safely and on solid ground, by the simple light of
   nature. If there were no Bible, we might know so much with absolute
   certainty. So far, even infidels are compelled to go.

   Here, then, we are, under absolute and most righteous condemnation. Is there
   any way of escape? If so, it must be revealed to us in the Bible; for from
   any other source it can not come. The Bible does profess to reveal a method
   of escape. This is the great burden of its message.

   It opens with a very brief allusion to the circumstances under which sin
   came into the world. Without being very minute as to the manner in which sin
   entered, it is exceedingly full, clear, and definite in its showing as to
   the fact of sin in the race. That God regards the race as in sin and
   rebellion is made as plain as language can make it. It is worthy of notice
   that this fact and the connected fact of possible pardon, are affirmed on
   the same authority —with the same sort of explicitness and clearness. These
   facts stand or fall together. Manifestly God intended to impress on all
   minds these two great truths—first, that man is ruined by his own sin;
   secondly, that he may be saved through Jesus Christ. To deny the former is
   to gainsay both our own irresistible convictions and God’s most explicit
   revealed testimony to deny the latter, is to shut the door, of our own free
   act and accord, against all hope of our own salvation.

   The philosophical explanations of the reasons and governmental bearings of
   the atonement must not be confounded with the fact of an atonement. Men may
   be saved by the fact if they simply believe it, while they may know nothing
   about the philosophical explanation. The apostles did not make much account
   of the explanation, but they asserted the fact most earnestly, gave miracles
   as testimony to prove their authority from God, and so besought men to
   believe the fact and be saved. The fact, then, may be savingly believed, and
   yet the explanation be unknown. This has been the case, no doubt, with
   scores of thousands.

   Yet it is very useful to understand the reasons and governmental grounds of
   the atonement. It often serves to remove skepticism. It is very common for
   lawyers to reject the fact, until they come to see the reasons and
   governmental bearings of the atonement this seen, they usually admit the
   fact. There is a large class of minds who need to see the governmental
   bearings, or they will reject the fact. The reason why the fact is so often
   doubted is, that the explanations given have been unsatisfactory. They have
   misrepresented God. No wonder men should reject them, and with them, the
   fact of any atonement at all.

   The atonement is a governmental expedient to sustain law without the
   execution of its penalty on the sinner. Of course, it must always be a
   difficult thing in any government to sustain the authority of law, and the
   respect due to it, without the execution of penalty. Yet God has
   accomplished it most perfectly.

   A distinction must here be made between public and retributive justice.

   The latter visits on the head of the individual sinner a punishment
   corresponding to the nature of his offence. The former, public justice,
   looks only toward the general good, and must do that which will secure the
   authority and influence of law, as well as the infliction of the penalty
   would do it. It may accept a substitute, provided it be equally effective to
   the support of law and the ensuring of obedience.

   Public justice, then. may be satisfied in one of two ways, to wit—either by
   the full execution of the penalty, or by some substitute, which shall answer
   the ends of government at least equally well. When, therefore, we ask—What
   is necessary for the ends of public justice? The answer is,

   1. Not the literal execution of the penalty; for if so, it must necessarily
   fall on the sinner, and on no one else.

   Besides, it could be no gain to the universe for Christ to suffer the full
   and exact penalty due to every lost sinner who should be saved by Him. The
   amount of suffering being the same in the one case as in the other, where is
   the gain? And yet, further, if the administration of justice is to be
   retributive, then it cannot fall on Christ, and must fall on the sinner
   himself. If not retributive, it certainly may be, as compared with that due
   the sinner, far different in kind and less in degree.

   It has sometimes been said that Christ suffered all in degree and the same
   in kind as all the saved must else have suffered; but human reason revolts
   at this assumption, and certainly the Scriptures do not affirm it.

   2. Some represent that God needs to be appeased, and to have His feelings
   conciliated. This is an egregious mistake. It utterly misrepresents God and
   misconceives the atonement. 3. It is no part of public justice that an
   innocent being should suffer penalty or punishment, in the proper sense of
   these terms. Punishment implies crime—of which Christ had none. Christ,
   then, was not punished.

   Let it be distinctly understood that the divine law originates in God’s
   benevolence, and has no other than benevolent ends in view. It was revealed
   only and solely to promote the greatest possible good, by means of
   obedience. Now, such a law can allow of pardon, provided an expression can
   be given which will equally secure obedience—making an equal revelation of
   the law-giver’s firmness, integrity, and love. The law being perfect, and
   being most essential to the good of His creatures, God must not set aside
   its penalty without some equivalent influence to induce obedience.

   The penalty was designed as a testimony to God’s regard for the precept of
   His law, and to His purpose to sustain it. An atonement, therefore. which
   should answer as a substitute for the infliction of this penalty, must be of
   such sort as to show God’s regard for both the precept and penalty of His
   law. It must be adapted to enforce obedience. Its moral power must be in
   this respect equal to that of the infliction of the penalty on the sinner.

   Consequently, we find that, in this atonement, God has expressed His high
   regard for His law and for obedience to it.

   The design of executing the penalty of the law was to make a strong
   impression of the majesty, excellence, and utility of the law. Anything may
   answer as a substitute, which will as thoroughly demonstrate the mischief
   and odiousness of sin, God’s hatred to it, and His determination to carry
   out His law in all its demands. Especially may the proposed substitute avail
   if it shall also make a signal manifestation of God’s love to sinners. This,
   the atonement, by the death of Christ, has most emphatically done.

   Every act of rebellion denounces the law. Hence, before God can pardon
   rebellion, He must make such a demonstration of His attitude toward sin as
   shall thrill the heart of the created universe, and make every ear tingle.
   Especially for the ends of the highest obedience, it was needful to make
   such demonstration as shall effectually secure the confidence and love of
   subjects toward their Lawgiver—such as shall show that He is no tyrant, and
   that He seeks only the highest obedience and consequent happiness of His
   creatures. This done, God will be satisfied.

   Now, what can be done to teach these lessons, and to impress them with great
   and everlasting emphasis on the universe?

   God’s testimony must be so given as to be well understood. Obviously, the
   testimony to be given must come from God, for it is His view of law,
   penalty, and substitute that needs to be revealed. Every one must see that
   if He were to execute law on the sinner, this would show at once His view of
   the value of the law. But, plainly, His view of the same thing must be shown
   with equal force by any proposed substitute, before He could accept it as
   such.

   Again, in this transaction, the precept of the law must be accepted and
   honored both by God and by Jesus as Mediator. The latter, as the
   representative of the race, must honor the law by obeying it, and by
   publicly endorsing it—otherwise, the requisite homage can not be shown to
   the divine law in the proposed atonement. This has been done.

   Again, to make adequate provision for the exercise of mercy to the race, it
   is plainly essential that, in the person of their mediator, both the divine
   and the human should be united. God and man are both to be represented in
   the atonement; the divine Word represented the Godhead; the man Jesus
   represented the race to be redeemed. What the Bible thus asserts, is
   verified in the history of Jesus, for He said and did things which could not
   have been said and done unless He had been man, and equally could not have
   been unless He were also God. On the one hand, too weak to carry His cross,
   through exhaustion of the human; and on the other, mighty to hush the
   tempest and to raise the dead, through the plenitude of divine power. Thus
   God and man are both represented in Jesus Christ.

   The thing to be done, then, required that Jesus Christ should honor the law
   and fully obey it; this He did. Standing for the sinner, he must, in an
   important sense, bear the curse of the law—not the literal penalty, but a
   vast amount of suffering, sufficient, in view of His relations to God and
   the universe, to make the needed demonstration of God’s displeasure against
   sin, and yet of His love for both the sinner and all His moral subjects. On
   the one hand, Jesus represented the race; on the other, He represented God.
   This is a most divine philosophy.

   The sacrifice made on Calvary is to be understood as God’s offering to
   public justice—God Himself giving up His Son to death, and this Son pouring
   forth His life’s blood in expiation for sin—thus throwing open the folding
   gates of mercy to a sinning, lost race. This must be regarded as manifesting
   His love to sinners. This is God’s ransom provided for them. Look at the
   state of the case. The supreme Law-giver, and indeed the government of the
   universe, had been scouted by rebellion; of course there can be no pardon
   till this dishonor done to God and His law is thoroughly washed away. This
   is done by God’s free-will offering of His own Son for these great sins.

   This being all done for you, sinners, what do you think of it? What do you
   think of that appeal which Paul writes and God makes through him, “I beseech
   you, therefore, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living
   sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.” Think
   of those mercies. Think how Christ poured out His life for you. Suppose He
   were to appear in the midst of you today, and holding up His hands, dripping
   with blood, should say, “I beseech you by the mercies shown you by God, that
   ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God!” Would
   you not feel the force of His appeal that this is a “reasonable service?“
   Would not this love of Christ constrain you? What do you think of it? Did He
   die for all that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves,
   but unto Him that loved them and gave Himself for them? What do you say?
   just as the uplifted ax would otherwise have fallen on your neck, He caught
   the blow on His own. You could have had no life if He had not died to save
   it; then what will you do? Will you have this offered mercy or reject it?
   Yield to Him the life He has in such mercy spared, or refuse to yield it?
     _________________________________________________________________

REMARKS.

   1. The governmental bearings of this scheme are perfectly apparent. The
   whole transaction tends powerfully to sustain God’s law, and to reveal His
   love and even mercy to sinners. It shows that He is personally ready to
   forgive, and needs only to have such an arrangement made that He can do it
   safely as to His government. What could show His readiness to forgive so
   strikingly as this? See how carefully He guards against the abuse of pardon!
   Always ready to pardon, yet ever watchful over the great interests of
   obedience and happiness, lest they be imperilled by its freeness and
   fullness!

   2. Why should it ever be thought incredible that God should devise such a
   scheme of atonement? Is there anything in it that is unlike God or
   inconsistent with His revealed character? I doubt whether any moral agent
   can understand this system and yet think it incredible. Those who reject it
   as incredible, must have failed to understand it.

   3. The question might be asked—Why did Christ die at all, if not for us! He
   had never sinned; did not die on His own account as a sinner; nor did He die
   as the infants of our race do, with a moral nature yet undeveloped, and who
   yet belong to a sinning race. The only account to be given of His death is,
   that He died not for Himself, but for us.

   It might also be asked—Why did He die so I See Him expiring between two
   thieves, and crushed down beneath a mountain weight of sorrow. Why was this?
   Other martyrs have died shouting; He died in anguish and grief, cast down
   and agonized beneath the hidings of His Father’s face.

   All nature seemed to sympathize with His griefs. Mark—the sun is clothed in
   darkness; the rocks are rent; the earth quakes beneath your feet; all nature
   is convulsed. Even a heathen philosopher exclaimed—Surely the universe is
   coming to an end, or the Maker of the universe is dying! Hark, that piercing
   cry, “My God, my God; why hast Thou forsaken Me?”

   On the supposition of His dying as a Saviour for sinners, all is plain. He
   dies for the government of God, and must needs suffer these things to make a
   just expression of God’s abhorrence of sin. While He stands in the place of
   guilty sinners, God must frown on Him and hide His face. This reveals both
   the spirit of God’s government and His own infinite wisdom.

   4. Some have impeached the atonement as likely to encourage sin. But such
   persons neglect the very important distinction between the proper use of a
   thing and its abuse. No doubt the best things in the universe may be abused,
   and by abuse be perverted to evil, and all the more by how much the better
   they are in their legitimate use.

   Of the natural tendency of the atonement to good, it would seem that no man
   can rationally doubt. The tendency of manifesting such love, meekness, and
   self-sacrifice for us, is to make the sinner trust and love, and to make him
   bow before the cross with a broken and contrite heart. But many do abuse it;
   and the best things, abused, become the worst. The abuse of the atonement is
   the very reason why God sends sinners to hell. He says, “He that despised
   Moses’ law, died without mercy under two or three witnesses; of how much
   sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden
   under foot the Son of God, and counted the blood of the covenant an unholy
   thing, and hath done despite to the Spirit of grace?”

   Hence, if any sinner will abuse atoning blood, and trample down the holy
   law, and the very idea of returning to God in penitence and love, God will
   say of him, “Of how much sorer punishment shall he be thought worthy” than
   he who despised Moses’ law and fell beneath its vengeance?

   5. It is a matter of fact, that this manifestation of God in Christ does
   break the heart of sinners. It has subdued many hearts, and will thousands
   more. If they believe it and hold it as a reality, must it not subdue their
   heart to love and grief? Do not you think so? Certainly, if you saw it as it
   is, and felt the force of it in your heart, you would sob out on your very
   seat, break down and cry out—Did Jesus love me so? And shall I love sin any
   more? Ah, your heart would melt as thousands have been broken and melted in
   every age, when they have seen the love of Jesus as revealed on the cross.
   That beautiful hymn puts the case truthfully-

   “I saw One hanging on a tree,

   In agony and blood;

   Who fixed His languid eyes on me,

   As near the cross I stood.”

   But it was not the first look that fully broke his heart. It was only when-

   “A second look He gave which said,

   I freely all forgive;

   This blood is for thy ransom paid-

   I die that thou mayest live,”

   that his whole heart broke, tears fell like rain, and he withheld no power
   of his being in the full consecration of his soul to this Saviour.

   This is the genuine effect of the sinner’s understanding the Gospel and
   giving Jesus Christ credit for His loving-kindness in dying for the lost.
   Faith thus breaks the stony heart. If this demonstration of God’s love in
   Christ does not break your heart, nothing else will. If this death and love
   of Christ do not constrain you, nothing else can.

   But if you do not look at it, and will not set your mind upon it, it will
   only work your ruin. To know this Gospel only enough to reject and disown
   it. can serve no other purpose save to make your guilt the greater, and your
   doom the more fearful.

   6. Jesus was made a sin-offering for us. How beautifully this was
   illustrated under the Mosaic system! The victim was brought out to be slain;
   the blood was carried in and sprinkled on the mercy-seat. This mercy-seat
   was no other than the sacred cover or lid of the ark which contained the
   tables of the law and other sacred memorials of God’s ancient mercies. There
   they were, in that deep recess—within which none might enter on pain of
   death, save the High Priest, and he only once a year, on the great day, of
   atonement. On this eventful day, the sacred rites culminated to their
   highest solemnity. Two goats were brought forward, upon which the High
   Priest laid his hands and confessed publicly his own sins and the sins of
   all the people. Then one was driven far away into the wilderness, to signify
   how God removes our sins far as the east is from the west; the other was
   slain, and its blood borne by the High Priest into the most holy place, and
   sprinkled there upon the mercy-seat beneath the cherubim. Meanwhile, the
   vast congregation stood without, confessing their sins, and expecting
   remission only through the shedding of blood. It was as if the whole world
   had been standing around the base of Calvary, confessing their sins, While
   Jesus bore His cross to the summit, to hang thereon, and bleed and die for
   the sins of men. How fitting that, while Christ is dying, we should be
   confessing!

   Some of you may think it a great thing to go on a foreign mission. But Jesus
   has led the way. He left heaven on a foreign mission; came down to this more
   than heathen world, and no one ever faced such self-denial. Yet He
   fearlessly marched up without the least hesitation to meet the consequences.
   Never did He shrink from disgrace, from humiliation, or torture. And can you
   shrink from following the footsteps of such a leader? Is anything too much
   for you to suffer, while you follow in the lead of such a Captain of your
   salvation?
     _________________________________________________________________

             XIII. WHERE SIN OCCURS GOD CANNOT WISELY PREVENT IT.
     _________________________________________________________________

   “It is impossible but that offences come; but woe unto him through whom they
   come!”-Luke xvii. 1.

   AN “offence” as used in this passage, is an occasion of falling into sin. It
   is anything which causes another to sin and fall.

   It is plain that the author of the offence is in this passage conceived of
   as voluntary and as sinful in his act; else the woe of God would not be
   denounced upon him.

   Consequently the passage assumes that this sin is in some sense necessary
   and unavoidable. What is true of this sin in this respect is true of all
   other sin. Indeed any sin may become an offence in the sense of a temptation
   to others to sin, and therefore its necessity and unavoidableness would then
   be affirmed by this text.

   The doctrine of this text, therefore, is that sin, under the government of
   God, can not be prevented. I purpose to examine this doctrine; to show that,
   nevertheless, sin is utterly inexcusable as to the sinner; then answer some
   objections, and conclude with remarks.

   1. When we say it is impossible to prevent sin under the government of God,
   the statement still calls for another inquiry, viz.: Where does this
   impossibility lie? Is it on the part of the sinner, or on the part of God?
   Which is true; that the sinner can not possibly forbear to sin, or that God
   can not prevent his sinning?

   The first supposition answers itself, for it could not be sin if it were
   utterly unavoidable. It might be his misfortune; but nothing could be more
   unjust than to impute it to him as his crime.

   But we shall better understand where this impossibility does and must lie,
   if we first recall to mind some of the elementary principles of God’s
   government.

   Let us, then, consider that God’s government over men is moral, and known to
   be such by every intelligent being. By the term moral, I mean that it
   governs by motives, and does not move by physical force. It adapts itself to
   mind, not to matter. It contemplates mind as having intellect to understand
   truth, sensibility to appreciate its bearing upon happiness, conscience to
   judge of the right, and a will to determine a course of voluntary action in
   view of God’s claims, So God governs mind. Not so does He govern matter. The
   planetary worlds are controlled by quite a different sort of agency. God
   does not move them in their orbits by motives, but by a physical agency.

   I said, all men know this government to be moral by their own consciousness.
   When its precepts and its penalties come before their minds, they are
   conscious that an appeal is made to their voluntary powers. They are never
   conscious of any physical agency coercing obedience.

   God’s government implies in man the power to will, or not to will; to will
   right, or to will wrong: to choose or to refuse the great good which Jehovah
   promises. It also implies intelligence. The beings to whom law is addressed
   are capable of understanding it. They have also, as I have said, a
   conscience, by which they can appreciate and must affirm its obligations.

   You need to distinguish broadly between the influence of motive on mind and
   of mechanical force upon matter. The former implies voluntariness; the
   latter does not. The former is adapted to mind and has no adaptation to
   matter the latter equally is adapted to matter, but has no possible
   application to mind. In God’s government over the human mind, all is
   voluntary; nothing is coerced as by physical force. Indeed, it is impossible
   that physical force should directly influence mind. Compulsion is precluded
   by the very nature of moral agency. Where compulsion begins, moral agency
   ends. If it were possible for God to force the will as He forces the moon
   along in her orbit, to do so would subvert the very idea of a moral
   government. Neither praise nor blame could attach to any actions of beings,
   so moved. Persuasion, brought to bear upon mind, is always such in its
   nature that it can be resisted. By the very nature of the case, God’s
   creatures must have power to resist any amount of even His persuasion. There
   can be no power in heaven or earth to coerce the will, as matter is coerced.
   The nature of mind forbids its possibility. And if it were possible, it
   would still be true that in just so far as God should coerce the human will,
   He would cease to govern morally.

   God is infinitely wise. Men can no more doubt this than they can doubt their
   own existence. He has infinite knowledge. He knows everything i.e., all
   objects of knowledge; and knows them all perfectly. He is also infinitely
   good, If is will being always conformed to His perfect knowledge and always
   controlled by infinite benevolence.

   His infinite goodness implies that He does the best He can, always, and
   everywhere. In no instance does He ever fail to do the very best He can do,
   so that He can appeal to every creature and say—What more can I do to
   prevent sin than I am doing! Indeed, He does so appeal to every intelligent
   mind. He made this appeal through Isaiah to the ancient Jews, “And now, O
   inhabitants of Jerusalem, and men of Judah, judge, I pray you, betwixt me
   and my vineyard. What could have been done more to my vineyard, that I have
   not done in it?”

   Every moral agent in the universe knows that God has done the best He could
   do in regard to sin. Do not you know this, each one of you? Certainly you
   do. He Himself, in all His infinite wisdom, could not suggest a better
   course than that which He has taken. Men know this truth so well, they never
   can know it better. You may at some future day realize it more fully when
   you shall come to see its millions of illustrations drawn out before your
   eyes; but no demonstration can make its proof more perfect than it is to
   your own minds today.

   Now sin does, in fact, exist under God’s government. For this sin, God
   either is or is not to blame. Every man knows that God is not to blame for
   this sin, for man’s own nature affirms that He would prevent it if He wisely
   could. Certainly if He was able wisely to prevent sin in any case where it
   actually occurs, then not to do so nullifies all our conceptions of His
   goodness and wisdom. He would be the greatest sinner in the universe if,
   with power and wisdom adequate to the prevention of sin, He had failed to
   prevent it.

   Let me here note, also, that what God can not do wisely, He can not
   (speaking morally) do at all. For He can not act unwisely. He can not do
   things which wisdom forbids. To do so would be to undeify Himself. The
   supposition would make Him cease to be perfect, and this were equivalent to
   ceasing to be God.

   Or thus: If He were to interpose unwisely to prevent a sinner from sinning,
   He would sin Himself. I speak now of each instance in which God does not, in
   fact, interpose to prevent sin. In any of these cases, if He were to
   interpose unwisely to prevent sin, He would prevent a man from sinning at
   the expense of sinning Himself. Here, then, is the case. A sinner is about
   to fall before temptation, or in more correct language, is about to rush
   into some new sin. God cannot wisely prevent his doing so. Now what shall be
   done? Shall He let that sinner rush on to his chosen sin and self-wrought
   ruin; or shall He step forward, unwisely, sin Himself, and incur all the
   frightful consequences of such a step? He lets the sinner bear his own
   responsibility. Why should not He? Who would wish to have God sin?

   This is a full explanation of every case in which man does in fact sin and
   God does not prevent it.

   And this is not conjecture, but is logical certainly. No truth can be more
   irresistibly and necessarily certain than this. I once heard a minister say
   in a sermon, “It is not irrational to suppose that in each case of sin, it
   occurs as it does because God can not prevent it.” After he retired from the
   pulpit, I said to him—Why did you leave the matter so? You left your hearers
   to infer that perhaps it might be in some other way; that this was only a
   possible theory, yet that some other theory was perhaps even more probable.
   Why did you not say, This theory is certain and must necessarily be true?

   Thus the impossibility of preventing sin lies not in the sinner, but wholly
   with God. Sin, it should be remembered, is nothing else than an act of free
   will, always committed against one’s conviction of right. Indeed, if a man
   did not know that selfishness is sin, it would not be sin in his case.

   Once more, sin is always committed against and in despite of motives of
   infinitely greater weight than those which induce to sin. The very fact that
   his conscience condemns the sin is his own judgment on the question, proving
   that in his own view the motives to sin are infinitely contemptible when put
   in the scale to measure those against the sin in question. Every sinner
   knows that sin is a willful abuse of his own powers as a moral agent-of
   those noblest powers of his being in view of which he is especially said to
   be made in the image of God. Made like God with these exalted attributes,
   capable of determining his own voluntary activities intelligently if he
   will; in accordance with his reason and his conscience if he will; he yet in
   every act of sin abuses and degrades these powers, tramples down in the very
   dust the image of God enstamped on his being, and with the capacities of
   becoming an angel, makes himself a fool. Clothed with a dignity of nature
   akin to that of his Maker, he chooses to debase himself to the level of
   brutes and of devils. With a face naturally looking upwards; with an
   intelligence that grasps the great truths of God; with a reason that
   postulates and affirms the great necessary principles involved in his moral
   duties and relations; with capacities which fit him to sit on a nation’s
   throne; he yet says—Let me take this glorious image of God and debase it in
   the dust! Let me cast myself down, till there shall be no lower depth of
   degradation to which I can sink!

   Sin is in every instance a dishonoring of God. This every sinner must know.
   It casts off His authority, spurns His advice, maltreats His love. Truly
   does God Himself say, “A son honoreth his father and a servant his master;
   if then I be a father, where is mine honor? and if I be a master, where is
   my fear?”

   What sinner ever supposed that God neglects to do anything He wisely can do
   to prevent sin? If this be not true, what is conscience but a lie and a
   delusion? Conscience always affirms that God is clear of all guilt in
   reference to sin, In every instance in which conscience condemns the sinner,
   it necessarily must, and actually does, fully acquit God.

   These remarks will suffice to show that sin in every instance of its
   commission is utterly inexcusable.

   We are next to notice some objections.

   1. “If God is infinitely wise and good, why need we pray at all? If He will
   surely do the best possible thing always and all the good He can do, why
   need we pray?”

   I answer. Because His infinite goodness and wisdom enjoin it upon us. Who
   could ask a better reason than this? If you believe in His infinite wisdom
   and goodness, and make this belief the basis of your objection, you will
   certainly, if honest, be satisfied with this answer.

   But again I answer. It might be wise and good for Him to do many things if
   sought unto in prayer, which He could not wisely do, unasked. You can not,
   therefore, infer that prayer never changes the course which God voluntarily
   pursues.

   2. Objecting again, you ask why we should pray to God to prevent sin, if He
   can not prevent it? If under the circumstances in which sin exists, God can
   not, as you hold, prevent sin, why go to Him and pray Him to prevent it?

   I answer. We pray for the very purpose of changing the circumstances. This
   is our object. And prayer does change the circumstances. If we step forward
   and offer fervent, effectual prayer, this quite changes the state of the
   case. Look at Moses pleading with God to spare the nation after their great
   sin in the matter of the golden calf. God said to him, “Let me alone that I
   may destroy them, and I will make of thee a great nation.” Nay, said Moses,
   for what will the Egyptians say? And what will all the nations say? They
   have long time said, The God of that people will not be able to get them
   through that vast wilderness; now therefore, what will thou do for Thy great
   name? “Yet now, if Thou wilt, forgive their sin; and if not, blot me, I pray
   Thee, out of Thy book which Thou hast written.”

   This prayer, coming up before God, greatly changed the circumstances of the
   case. For this prayer, God could honorably spare the nation—it was so
   honorable for Him to answer this prayer.

   3. Yet further objecting, you ask, “Why did God create moral agents at all
   if He foresaw that He could not prevent their sinning?”

   I answer. Because He saw that on the whole it was better to do so. He could
   prevent some sin in this race of moral agents; could overrule what He could
   not wisely prevent, to as to bring out from it a great deal of good, and so
   that in the long run, He saw it better, with all the results before Him, to
   create than to forbear; therefore, wisdom and love made it necessary that He
   should create. Having the power to create a race of moral beings—having also
   power to convert and save a vast multitude of them, and power also to
   overrule the sin He should not prevent so that it should evolve immense
   good, how could He forbear to create as He did?

   4. But if God can not prevent sin, will He not be unhappy?

   No; He is entirely satisfied to do the best He can, and accept the results.

   5. But some will say—Is not this “limiting the Holy One of Israel?” No. It
   is no proper limitation of God’s power to say that He can not do anything
   that is unwise. Nor do we limit His power when we say—He can not move mind
   just as He moves a planet. That is no proper subject of power which is in
   its own nature absurd and impossible.

   Yet these are the only directions in which we have spoken of any limitations
   to His power.

   But you say, Could not God prevent sin by annihilating each moral agent the
   instant before he would sin? Doubtless He could; but we say if this were
   wise He would have done it. He has not done it, certainly not in all cases,
   and therefore it is not always wise.

   But you say, Let Him give more of His Holy Spirit. I answer, He does give
   all He can wisely, under existing circumstances. To suppose He might give
   more than He does, circumstances being the same, is to impeach His wisdom or
   His goodness.

   Some people seem greatly horrified at the idea of setting limits to God’s
   power. Yet they make assumptions which inevitably impeach His wisdom and His
   goodness. Such persons need to consider that if we must choose between
   limiting His power on the one hand, or His wisdom and His love on the other,
   it is infinitely more honorable to Him to adopt the former alternative than
   the latter. To strike a blow at His moral attributes, is to annihilate His
   throne. And further, let it be also considered, as we have already
   suggested, that you do not in any offensive sense limit His power when you
   assume that He can not do things naturally impossible, and can not act
   unwisely.

   Let these remarks suffice in the line of answer to objections I know that
   you who are students will say that this must be true. You are accustomed to
   notice the action of your own moral powers. You have a moral sense, and it
   has been in some good degree developed. You know it is utterly impossible
   that God should act unwisely. You know He must act benevolently, always
   doing the best thing He can do. He has given you a nature which affirms,
   postulates, intuits these truths. Else there could be no conscience. The
   presence and action of a conscience implies that these great truths
   respecting the moral nature of God are indisputably affirmed in your soul by
   your own moral nature.

   I address you, therefore, as those who have a conscience. Suppose it were
   otherwise. Suppose all that we call conscience—the entire moral side of your
   nature—should suddenly drop out, and I should find myself speaking to a
   shoal of moral idiots—beings utterly void of a conscience! How desolate the
   scene! But I am not speaking to such an audience. Therefore I am sure that
   you will understand and appreciate what I say.
     _________________________________________________________________

REMARKS.

   1. We may see the only sense in which God could have purposed the existence
   of sin. It is simply negative. He purposed not to prevent it in any case
   where it does actually occur. He does not purpose to make moral agents sin;
   not, for example, Adam and Eve in the garden, or Judas in the matter of
   betraying Christ. All He purposed to do Himself was to leave them with only
   a certain amount of restraint—as much as He could wisely impose; and then if
   they would sin, let them bear the responsibility. He left them to act freely
   and did not positively prevent their sinning. He never uses means to make
   men sin. He only forbears to use unwise means to prevent their sinning. Thus
   His agency in the existence of sin is only negative.

   2. The existence of sin does not prove that it is the necessary means of the
   greatest good. Some of you are aware that this point has been often mooted
   in theological discussions.

   I do not purpose now to go into it at length, but will only say that in all
   cases wherein men sin, they might obey God instead of sinning. Now the
   question here is—If they were to obey rather than sin, would not a greater
   good accrue? We have these two reasons for the affirmative: (1), that by
   natural tendency, obedience promotes good and disobedience evil: and (2),
   that in all those cases, God earnestly and positively enjoins obedience. It
   is fair to presume that He would enjoin that which would secure the greatest
   good.

   3. The human conscience always justifies God. This is an undeniable fact—a
   fact of universal consciousness. The proof of it can never be made stronger,
   for it stands recorded in each man’s bosom.

   Yet a very remarkable book has recently appeared, “The Conflict of
   Ages”—which is obviously built upon the opposite assumption, viz., that the
   human conscience does not unqualifiedly condemn man; but except under the
   light of this peculiar theory, does in fact condemn God. This theory,
   adopted professedly to vindicate God as against the human conscience, holds
   that there was a pre-existent state in which we all lived and sinned, and
   there forfeited our title to a moral nature, unbiased toward sinning. There
   we had a fair probation. Here, if we suppose this to be the commencement of
   our moral agency, we do not have a fair probation, and conscience therefore
   does not, and in truth can not, justify God except on the supposition of a
   pre-existent state.

   The entire book, therefore, is built on the assumption of a conflict between
   the human conscience and God. A shocking assumption! A brother remarked to
   me of this that it seemed to him to be the most outrageous and blasphemous
   indictment against God that could be drawn. Yet the author intended no such
   thing. He is undoubtedly a good man, but, in this particular, egregiously
   mistaken.

   The fact is, conscience does always condemn the sinner and justify God. It
   could not affirm obligation without justifying God. The real controversy,
   therefore, is not between God and the conscience, but between God and the
   heart. In every instance in which sin exists, conscience condemns the sinner
   and justifies God. This of itself is a perfect and sufficient answer to the
   whole doctrine of that book. It knocks out the only and whole foundation on
   which it is built. If that book be true, men never should have had a
   conscience until that book was published, read, understood, and believed. No
   man should ever have been convicted of sin until he came to see that he had
   existed in a previous state and began his sinning there.

   Yet the facts arc right over against this. Everywhere in all ages, with no
   deference to this book, and no disposition to wait for its tardy
   developments—everywhere and through all time the human conscience has stood
   up to condemn each sinner and compel him to sign his own death-warrant; and
   acquit his Maker of all blame. These are the facts of human nature and life.

   4. Conversion consists precisely in this: the heart’s consent to these
   decisions of the conscience. It is for the heart to come over to the ground
   occupied by the conscience, and thoroughly acquiesce in it as right and
   true. Conscience has a long time been speaking; it has always held one
   doctrine, and has long been resisted by the heart. Now, in conversion, the
   heart comes over, and gives in its full assent to the decisions of
   conscience; that God is right, and that sin and himself a sinner are utterly
   wrong.

   And now do any of you want to know how you may become a Christian? This is
   it. Let your heart justify God and condemn sin, even as your conscience
   does. Let your voluntary powers yield to the necessary affirmations of your
   reason and conscience. Then all will be peaceful within because all will be
   right.

   But you say, I am trying to do this! Ah, I know it to be the case with some
   of you that you are trying to resist to your utmost. You settle down, as it
   were, with your whole weight while God would fain draw you by His truth and
   Spirit. Yet you fancy you are really trying to yield your heart to God. A
   most unaccountable delusion!

   5. In the light of this subject we can see the reason for a general
   judgment. God intends to clear Himself from all imputation of wrong in the
   matter of sin before the entire moral universe. Strange facts have
   transpired in His universe, and strange insinuations have been made against
   His course. These matters must all be set right. For this He will take time
   enough. He will wait till all things are ready. Obviously He could not bring
   out His great trial-day till the deeds of earth have all been wrought—till
   all the events of this wondrous drama have had their full development. Until
   then He will not be ready to make a full exposé of all His doings. Then He
   can and will do it most triumphantly and gloriously.

   The revelations of that day will doubtless show why God did not interpose to
   prevent every sin in the universe. Then He will satisfy us as to the reasons
   He had for suffering Adam and Eve to sin and for leaving Judas to betray his
   Master. We know now that He is wise and good, although we do not know all
   the particular reasons for His conduct in the permission of sin. Then He
   will reveal those particular reasons, as far as it may be best and possible.
   No doubt He will then show that His reasons were so wise and good that He
   could not have done better.

   6. Sin will then appear infinitely inexcusable and odious. It will then be
   seen in its true relations toward God and His intelligent creatures,
   inexpressibly blameworthy and guilty.

   Take a case. Suppose a son has gone far away from the paths of obedience and
   virtue. He has had one of the best of fathers, but be would not hear his
   counsels. He had a wise and affectionate mother, but he sternly resisted all
   the appeals of her tenderness and tears. Despite of the most watchful care
   of parents and friends, he would go astray. As one madly bent on self-ruin,
   he pushed on, reckless of the sorrow and grief he brought upon those he
   should have honored and loved. At last the issues of such a course stand
   revealed. The guilty youth finds himself ruined in constitution, in fortune,
   and in good name. He has sunk far too low to retain even self-respect.
   Nothing remains for him but agonizing reflections on past folly and guilt.
   Hear him bewail his own infatuation. “Alas,” he cries, “I have almost killed
   my venerable father, and long ago I had quite broken my mother’s heart. All
   that folly and crime in a son could do, I have done to bring down their gray
   hairs with sorrow to the grave. No wonder that having done so much to ruin
   my best friends, I have plucked down a double ruin on my own head. No sinner
   ever more richly deserved to be doubly damned than myself”

   Thus truth flashes upon his soul and thus his heart quails and his
   conscience thunders condemnation. So it must be with every sinner when all
   his sins against God shall stand revealed before his eyes, and there shall
   be nothing left for him but intense and unqualified self-condemnation.

   7. God’s omnipotence is no guaranty to any man that either himself or any
   other sinner will be saved. I know the Universalist affirms it to be. He
   will ask—Does not the fact of God’s omnipotence, taken in connection with
   His infinite love, prove that all men will be saved? I answer, No! It does
   not prove that God will save one soul. With ever so much proof of God’s
   perfect wisdom, love, and power we could not infer that He would save even
   one sinner. We might just as reasonably infer that He would send the whole
   race to hell. How could we know what His wisdom would determine? How could
   we infer what the exigencies of His government might demand? In fact, the
   only ground we have for the belief that He will save any sinner is not at
   all our inference from His wisdom, love, and power; but is wholly and only
   His own declarations as to this matter. Our knowledge is wholly from
   revelation. God has said so; and this is all we know about it.

   Yet further I reply to the Universalist, that God’s omnipotence saves
   nobody. Salvation is not wrought by physical omnipotence. It is only by
   moral power that God saves, and this can save no man unless he consents to
   be saved.

   8. How bitter the reflections which sinners must have on their death-bed,
   and how fearfully agonizing when they pass behind the veil and see things in
   their true light. Did you ever think when you have seen a sinner dying in
   his sins what an awful thing it is for a sinner to die? You mark the lines
   of anguish on his countenance; you see the look of despair; you observe he
   can not bear to hear the word of the awful future. There be lies, and death
   pushes on his stem assault. The poor victim struggles in vain against his
   dreaded foe. He sinks, and sinks, his pulse runs lower, and yet lower; look
   in his glassy eye; mark that haggard brow; there, he breathes not; but all
   suddenly he stares as one affrighted; throws up his hands wildly, screams
   frightfully; sinks down and is gone to return no more! And where is he now?
   Not beyond the scope of thought and reflection. He can see back into the
   world he has left. Still he can think. Alas, his misery is that he can do
   nothing but think! As said the prisoner in his solitary cell: I could bear
   torture or I could endure toil; but O, to have nothing to do but to think!
   To hear the voice of friend no more—to say not a word—to do nothing from day
   to day and from year to year but to think! that is awful. So of the lost
   sinner. Who can measure the misery of incessant self-agonizing thought? Now,
   when at any time your reflections press uncomfortably and you feel that you
   shall almost go deranged, you can find some drop of comfort for your fevered
   lips; you can for a few moments, at least, fall asleep, and so forget your
   sorrows and find a transient rest; but oh! when you shall reach the world
   where the wicked find no rest—where there can be no sleep—where not one drop
   of water can reach you to cool your tongue. Alas, how can your heart endure
   or your hands be strong in that dread hour! God tried in vain to bless and
   save you. You fought Him back and plucked down on your guilty head a fearful
   damnation!

   9. What infinite consolation will remain to God after He shall have closed
   up the entire scenes of earth! He has banished the wicked and taken home the
   righteous to His bosom of love and peace. I have done, says He, all I wisely
   could to save the race of man. I made sacrifices cheerfully; sent my
   well-beloved Son gladly; waited as long as it seemed wise to wait, and now
   it only remains to overrule all this pain and woe for the utmost good, and
   rejoice in the bliss of the redeemed forevermore.

   There are the guilty lost. Their groans swell out and echo up the walls of
   their pit of woe; it is to so much evidence that God is good and wise and
   will surely sustain His throne in equity and righteousness forever. It
   teaches most impressive lessons upon the awful doom of sin, There let it
   stand and bear its testimony, to warn other beings against a course so
   guilty and a doom so dreadful!

   There, in that world of woe, may be some of our pupils possibly some of our
   own children. But God is just and His throne stainless of their blood. It
   shall not mar the eternal joy of His kingdom, that they would pull down such
   damnation on their heads. They insisted they would take the responsibility,
   and now they have it.

   Sinner, do you not care for this today? Will you come to the inquiry meeting
   this evening to trifle about your salvation? I can tell you where you will
   not trifle. When the great bell of time shall toll the death-knell of earth
   and call her millions of sons and daughters to the final judgment, you will
   not be in a mood to trifle! You will surely be there! It will be a time for
   serious thought—an awful time of dread. Are you ready to face its
   revelations and decisions?

   Or do you say, Enough, ENOUGH! I have long enough withstood His grace and
   spurned His love; I will now give, my heart to God, to be His only,
   forevermore?
     _________________________________________________________________

                   XIV. THE INNER AND THE OUTER REVELATION.
     _________________________________________________________________

   THERE are many who believe that a loose indefinite infidelity has rarely, if
   ever, been more prevalent in our country than at this time, especially among
   young men. I am not prepared to say it is an honest infidelity, yet it may
   very probably be real. Young men may really doubt the inspiration of the
   Christian Scriptures, not because they have honestly studied those
   Scriptures and their numerous evidences, but because they have read them
   little and reasoned legitimately yet less. Especially have they almost
   universally failed to study the intuitive affirmations of their own minds.
   They have not examined the original revelation that God has made in each
   human soul, to see how far this would carry them. and how wonderfully it
   opens the way for understanding and indeed for embracing the revelation
   given in God’s Word.

   To bring these and kindred points before your minds, I have taken as my
   text, the words of Paul,

   “By manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man’s
   conscience in the sight of God.-2 Cor. iv. 2.

   Paul is speaking of the Gospel ministry which he received, and is stating
   how he fulfilled it. He shows plainly that he, sought to preach to the human
   conscience. He found in each man’s bosom a conscience to which he could
   appeal, an to which the manifestation of the truth commended, itself.

   Probably no thoughtful man has ever read the Bible without noticing that
   there has been a previous revelation given in some way to man. It assumes
   many things as known already. I may have said in the hearing of some of you
   that I was studying in my law-office when I bought my first Bible, and that
   I bought it as one of my law-books. No sooner had I opened it than I was
   struck to see how many things it assumed as known, and therefore states with
   no attempt at proof. For instance, the first verse in the Bible”In the
   beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” This assumes the existence
   of God. It does not aim to prove this truth; it goes on the presumption that
   this revelation—the existence of a God—has been made already to all who are
   mature enough to understand it, The Apostle Paul also, in his epistle to the
   Romans, asserts that the real Godhead and eternal power of the one God,
   though in some sense “invisible things,” are yet “clearly seen,” in the
   creation of the world, “being understood by the things that are, made,” so
   that all wicked men are. without excuse. His doctrine is that the created
   universe reveals God. And if this be true of the universe without us, it is
   no less true of the universe within us. Our own minds—their convictions,
   their necessary affirmations—do truly reveal God and many of the great
   truths that respect our relations to Him and to His government.

   When we read the Bible attentively, and notice how many things, of the
   utmost importance, it assumes, and bases its precepts on them, without
   attempting to prove them, we can not forbear to inquire—Are these
   assumptions properly made?

   The answer to this question is found when we turn our eye within and inquire
   for the intuitive affirmations of our own minds. Then we shall see that we
   possess an intellectual and moral nature which as truly reveals great truths
   concerning God and our relations to Him and to law, as the material, world
   reveals His eternal power and Godhead.

   For instance, we shall see that man has a moral nature related to spiritual
   and moral truth, as really as he has la physical nature related to the
   physical world. As his senses—sight, touch, hearing—intuit certain truths
   respecting the external world, so does his spiritual nature intuit certain,
   truths respecting the spiritual world. No man can well consider the first
   class of truths without being forced to consider and believe the second.

   Let us see if this be true.

   It is not long since I had interviews with a young lady of considerable
   intelligence who was a skeptic. She professed to believe in a God and in
   those great truths pertaining to His attributes which are embraced in Deism;
   but she quite rejected the Bible and all that pertains to a revealed way of
   salvation.

   I began with presenting to her mind some of the great truths taught by the
   mind’s own affirmations concerning God, His attributes, and government,; and
   then from this I passed on to show her how the Bible came in to make out a
   system of truth needful to man as a lost sinner. She admitted the first, of
   course; and then she saw that the second. must be true if the first was, or
   there could be nothing for man but hopeless ruin. Starting back in horror
   from the gulf of despair, she saw that only her unbelief was ruining her
   soul; and then renouncing this, she yielded her heart to God and found
   Gospel peace and joy in believing.

   I propose now to present much the same course of thought to you as I did to
   her.

   And here the first great inquiry is—What ideas does our own nature—God’s
   first revelation—give us?

   (1.) Undoubtedly, the idea of God. Our own minds affirm that there is and
   must be a God; that He must have all power and all knowledge. Our mind also
   gives us God’s moral attributes. No man can doubt that God is good and Just.
   Men are never afraid that God will do anything wrong.

   If at all afraid of God, it is because He is good—is just and holy.

   (2). Man’s nature gives him the idea of law-moral law. He can no more doubt
   the existence of a moral law, imposed, too, on himself, than he can doubt
   the existence of his own soul and body. He knows he ought not to be
   selfish—ought to be benevolent. He knows he is bound to love his neighbor as
   himself—bound to seek the higher at the sacrifice, if need be, of the lower
   good.

   How is it that men get these ideas? I answer, They must, have them by
   nature; they must be in the mind before any direct instruction from human
   lips, else you could never teach a child these ideas, more than you could
   teach them to a horse. The child knows these things before he is taught, and
   can not remember when he first had them.

   Suppose you were to close your Bible and ask, Now, apart from all this book
   teaches, how much do I know? How much must I admit? You would find that your
   moral nature gives you the idea of a God, and affirms His existence; it
   gives you His attributes, natural and moral, and also your own moral
   relations to Him and to your fellow-beings. In proof of this I can appeal to
   you—not one of you can say,

   I am under no obligation to love God; I am not bound to love my fellow-men.
   Your moral nature gives you these things—it affirms to you these truths,
   even more directly and undeniably than your senses give you the facts of the
   external world. Moreover, your moral nature not only gives you the law of
   supreme love to God, and of love equal and impartial toward your fellow-men,
   but it affirms that you are sinners; that you have displeased God—have
   utterly failed to please Him, and of course that you are under condemnation
   from His righteous law. You know that God’s good law must condemn you,
   because you have not been good in the sense required by that law. Hence, you
   must know that you are in the position of an outlaw, condemned by law, and
   without hope from the administration of justice.

   Another thing it gives you, viz., that you are still in penitence (I speak
   of those who know this to be their case); your own conscience affirms this
   to you past all contradiction. It affirms that you are still living in sin,
   and have not reformed in such a sense that God can accept your reformation.
   You know that you do violence to: your own conscience, and that while you
   are doing this you can neither respect yourself nor be respected by God. You
   know that! long as this is the case with you, God can not forgive you. Nay,
   more, if He should, it would do you no good; you could not be happy; you
   could not respect yourself even if you were told that you were forgiven.
   Indeed, if your nature, spake out unbiased, it would not let you believe
   yourself really forgiven, so long as you are doing violence to conscience. I
   can remember When these thoughts were in my mind like fire. I saw that no
   man could doubt them, any more than he can doubt his own existence. So you
   may see these truths and feel their force,

   You know, then, that by your sins, you have forfeited the favor of God, and
   have no claim on Him at all on the score of justice. You have cast off His
   authority, have disowned subjection to His law and government; indeed, you
   have cast all His precepts beneath your feet. You can no longer, come before
   God and say, “Thou oughtest not to cast me off; I have not deserved it at
   Thy hand.” You can no more say this honestly, than you can deny your own
   existence.

   Did you ever think of this? Have you ever tried this, to see what you can
   honestly do and say before God? Have you ever tried to go into God’s
   presence and tell Him solemnly that He has no right to punish you? Not one
   of you can tell Him so without being conscious in yourself of blasphemy

   It is a good method, because it may serve to show you how the case really
   stands. Suppose, then, you try it. See what you can honestly and with an
   approving conscience say before God, when your soul is deeply impressed with
   the sense of His presence. Consider I am not asking you whether you can
   harden your heart and violate your conscience enough to blaspheme God to His
   face; not this, but I am asking you to put the honest convictions of your
   own conscience to the test and see what they are and what they will allow
   you to do and to say before God. Can you kneel down before Him and say, “I
   deny that I have cast off God. I have never refused to treat Him as a
   friend. I have never treated Him as an enemy?”

   You know you can make no issue of this sort with God without meeting the
   rebukes of your own mm

   Again, you can see no reason to hope for forgiveness under the law. With all
   the light of your Deism you can discern no ground of pardon. Outside the
   Bible, all is dark as death. There is no hope. If you cherish aictions. Why
   do you think it is so difficult to induce a discreet governor to grant a
   pardon? When Jerome Bonaparte was monarch of Spain, why did Napoleon send
   him that earnest rebuke for pardoning certain criminals? What were the
   principles underlying that remarkably able state paper? Have you ever
   studied those principles, as they were grasped and presented so vigorously
   by the mighty mind of Napoleon?

   You can never infer from the goodness of God that He can forgive; much less,
   that He must. One of the first Universalist preachers I ever heard announced
   in the outset that he should infer from the goodness of God that He would
   save all men. I can well remember how perfectly shallow his sophistry
   appeared to me and how absurd his assumptions. I was no Christian then, but
   I saw at a glance that he might far better infer from the goodness of God
   that He would forgive none than that He would forgive all. It seemed to me
   most clear that if God were good and had made a good law, He would sustain
   it. Why not? I must suppose that His law is a good one; how could a Being of
   infinite wisdom and love impose any other than a good law? And if it were a
   good law, it had a good end to answer; and a good God could not suffer it to
   fail of answering those ends by letting it come to naught through
   inefficiency in its administration. I knew enough about law and government
   then to see that a firm hand in administration is essential to any good
   results from ever so good a law. Of course I knew that if law were left to
   be trampled under foot by hardened, blasphemous transgressors, and then to
   cap the climax, an indiscriminate pardon were given, and nothing done to
   sustain law, there would be an end of all authority and a positive
   annihilation of all the good hoped for under its administration. What shall
   rational men undertake to infer from God’s goodness that He will pardon all
   sinners? Suppose the spirit of riot and misrule now so rampant at Erie, Pa.,
   to go on from bad to worse; that the rioters perpetrate every form of
   mischief in their power; they tear up the rails, burn down the bridges, fire
   into the cars, run whole trains off the track and crush the quivering flesh
   of hundreds en masse into heaps of blood and bones; and by and by, when the
   guilty are arrested and convicted by due course of law, then the question
   comes up, Shall the governor pardon them? He might be very much inclined to
   do so, if he wisely could; but the question. is—Can a good governor do it?
   Supposing him to be purely, good and truly wise, what would he do? Will you
   say, O he is too good to punish—he is so good, he will certainly pardon?
   Will you say that pardon indiscriminately given, and given to all, and
   according to previous assurance, moreover, will secure the highest respect
   for law and the best obedience?, Everybody knows that this is superlative
   nonsense. No man who ever had anything to do under the responsibilities of
   government, or who has ever learned the A B C of human nature in this
   relation, can for one moment suppose that Pardon—in such ways—can supplant
   punishment with any other result than utter ruin. No: if the ruler is good,
   he will surely punish; and all the more surely, by how much the more
   predominant is the element of goodness in his character.

   You, sinners, are under law. If you sin, you must see great reason why God
   should punish and not forgive.

   Here is another fact. When you look upon yourself and your moral position,
   you find yourself twice dead. You are civilly dead in the sense of being
   condemned by law, an outcast from governmental favor. You are also morally
   dead, for you do not love God, do not serve Him, have no tendencies that
   draw you back into sympathy with God; but, on the other hand, you are dead
   to all considerations that look in this direction. You are indeed alive to
   your own low, selfish interests, but dead to God’s interests; you care
   nothing for God only to avoid Him and escape His judgment. All this you
   know, beyond all question.

   In this condition, without a further revelation, where is your hope? You
   have none, and have no ground for any.

   Furthermore, if a future revelation is to be made, revealing some ground of
   pardon, you can see with the light now before you on what basis it must
   rest. You can see what more you need from God. The first revelation shuts
   you up to God—shows you that if help ever comes, it can not come out of
   yourself, but must come from God—can not come of His, justice, but must come
   from His mercy—can not come out of law, but must come from some extra
   provision whereby law may have its demands satisfied otherwise than through
   the execution of its penalty on the offender. Somebody, you can see, must
   interpose for you, who can take your part and stand in your stead before the
   offended law.

   Did you never think of this? In the position where you stand, and where your
   own nature and your own convictions place you, you are compelled to say—My
   case is hopeless! I need a double salvation—from condemnation and from
   sinning; first from the curse, and secondly from the heart to sin—from the
   tendency and disposition to commit sin. Inquiring for a revelation to meet
   these wants of my lost soul, where can I find it? Is it to be found in all
   the book of nature Nowhere. Look into the irresistible convictions of your
   own moral being; they tell you of your wants, but they give you no supply.
   They show what you need, but they utterly fail to give it. Your own moral
   nature shows that you need an atoning Saviour and a renewing Spirit. Nothing
   less can meet the case of a sinner condemned, outlawed, and doubly dead by
   the moral corruption of all his voluntary powers.

   The worst mischief of infidelity is that it ignores all this; it takes no
   notice of one entire side of our nature, and that the most important side;
   talking largely about philosophy, it yet restricts itself to the philosophy
   of the outer world and has no eye for the inner and higher nature. It
   ignores the fact that our moral nature affirms one entire class of great
   truths, with even more force and certainty than the senses affirm the facts
   of the external world. Verily, this is a grand and a fatal omission!
     _________________________________________________________________

REMARKS.

   1. Without the first revelation the second could not be satisfactorily
   proved. When the Bible reveals God, it assumes that our minds affirm His
   existence and that we need no higher proof When it reveals His law, it
   pre-supposes that we are capable of understanding it, and of appreciating
   its moral claims. When it prescribes duty, it assumes that we ought to feel
   the force of obligation to obey it.

   Now, the fact that the Bible does make many assumptions of this sort
   establishes an intimate and dependent connection between it on the one hand,
   and the laws of the human mind on the other. If these assumptions are well
   and truly made, then the divine authority of the Bible is abundantly
   sustained by its correspondence and harmony with the intellectual and moral
   nature of man. It fits the beings to whom it is given. But, on the other
   hand, if these assumptions had, on examination, proved false, it would be
   impossible to sustain the credit of the Scriptures as coming from a wise and
   honest Being. 2. Having the first revelation, to reject the second is most
   absurd. The second is, to a great extent, a re-affirmation of the first,
   with various important additions of a supplementary sort, e.g. the
   atonement, and hence the possibility of pardon the gift and work of the
   Spirit, and hence the analogous possibility of being saved from sinning.

   Now those things which the first revelation affirms and the second
   re-affirms are so fundamental in any revelation of moral duty to moral
   beings, that, having them taught so intuitively, so undeniably, we are left
   self-convicted of extreme absurdity if we then reject the second. Logically,
   there seems no ground left on which to base a denial of the written
   revelation. Its supplementary doctrines are not, to be sure intuitive
   truths, but they are so related to man’s wants as a lost sinner, and so
   richly supply those wants; they, moreover, are so beautifully related to the
   exigencies of God’s government, and so amply meet them, that no intelligent
   mind, once apprehending all these things in their actual relations, can fail
   to recognize their truthfulness.

   3. The study of the first secures an intellectual reception of the second. I
   do not believe it possible for a man to read and understand the first
   thoroughly and then come to the second and fairly apprehend its relation to
   his own moral nature and moral convictions, and also his moral wants without
   being compelled to say—All is true; this book is all true! They coincide so
   wondrously, and the former sustains the latter so admirably and so
   triumphantly, a man can no more deny the Bible after knowing all his own
   moral relations than he can deny his own existence.

   4. You see why so many reject the Bible. They have not well read themselves.
   They have not looked within, to read carefully the volume God has put on
   record there. They have contrived to hush and smother down the ever-rising
   convictions of their own moral nature. They have refused to listen to the
   cry of want which swells up from their troubled bosom of guilt. Hence, there
   is yet one whole volume of revelation of which they are strangely ignorant.
   This ignorance accounts for their rejection of the Bible.

   A little attention to the subject will show you that the ground here
   indicated is beyond question that on which the masses in every Christian
   land really repose their faith in the Bible. Scarce one in ten thousand of
   them has studied the historical argument for divine revelation extensively
   and carefully, so as intelligently to make this a corner-stone for his faith
   in the Bible. It is not reasonable to demand that they should. There is an
   argument shorter and infinitely more convincing. It is a simple problem;
   given, a soul guilty, condemned and undone; required, some adequate relief.
   The Gospel solves the problem. Who will not accept the solution? It answers
   every condition perfectly; it must, therefore, come from God; it is at least
   our highest wisdom to accept it.

   If it be replied to this, that such a problem meets the case of those only
   who give their hearts to God, it may be modified for yet another, class, on
   this wise:; given, a moral nature which affirms God, law, obligation, guilt,
   ruin; required, to know whether a written revelation is reliable, which is
   built upon the broad basis of man’s intuitive affirmations; which gives them
   the sanction of man’s Creator; which appends a system of duty and of
   salvation of such sort that it interlocks itself inseparably with truth,
   intuitive to man, and manifestly fills out a complement of moral
   instructions and agencies in perfect adaptation to both man and his Maker.
   In the Bible, we have the very thing required. A key that threads the
   countless wards of such a lock must have been made to fit. Each came from
   the same Author. You can not grant to man an origin from God, but you must
   grant the same origin to the Bible.

   When I came to examine these things in the light of my own convictions, I
   wondered I had not seen them truly before,

   Suppose I should stand here and announce to you the two great precepts of
   the moral law; would not their obvious nature and bearings enforce on your
   mind the conviction that these precepts must be true and must be from God?
   As I should descend to particulars, you would still affirm—these must be
   true; these must certainly have come down from heaven. If I were even to go
   back to the Mosaic law (a law which many object against, because they do not
   understand the circumstances that called for such a law)—yet if I should
   explain their peculiar circumstances, and the reasons for such statutes,
   every man must affirm the rectitude of even those statutes, The Old
   Testament, I am aware, reveals truth under a veil, the world not being
   prepared then for its clearer revelation. The veil was taken away when, in
   the fullness of time, people were prepared for unclouded revealings of God
   in the flesh.

   The reason, therefore, why the masses receive the Bible, is not that they
   are credulous, and hence swallow down absurdities with ease; but the reason
   is that it commends itself so irresistibly to each man’s own nature and to
   his deep and resistless convictions, he is shut up to receive it he must do
   violence to his inner convictions if he reject it. Man’s whole nature cries
   out—This is just what I need! That young lady of whom I spake could not help
   but abandon her infidelity and yield up her heart to God, when she had
   reached this point. I said—Do you admit a God? She answered—Yes. Do you
   admit a law? Yes. Do you admit your personal guilt? Yes. And your need of
   salvation? O, yes. Can you help yourself? said I. Ah, no, indeed, she said,
   I do not believe I can ever be saved.

   But God can save you. Surely nothing is too hard for Him.

   Alas, she replied, my own nature has shut me up—I am in despair; there is no
   way of escape for me;. the Bible, you know, I don’t receive; and here I am
   in darkness and despair!

   At this point I began to speak of the Gospel. Said I to her—See there; God
   has done such and such things as revealed in the Gospel; He came down and
   dwelt in human flesh to meet the case of such sinners as you are; He made an
   ample atonement for sin; there, what do you think of that? “That is what I
   need exactly,” said she,” “if it were only true.”

   If it is not true, said 1, you are lost beyond hope! Then why not believe?

   I can not believe it, she said, because it is incredible. It is a great deal
   too good to be true!

   And is not God good, said I—infinitely good? Then why do you object that
   anything He does is too good to be true?

   That is what I need,” again she repeated, “but how can it be so?”

   Then you can not give God credit for being so good! said I.

   Alas, I see it is my unbelief; but I cannot believe. It is what I need, I
   can plainly see; but how can I believe it? At this point I rose up and said
   to her solemnly—The crisis has come! There is now only one question for
   you—Will you believe the Gospel? She raised her eyes, which had been
   depressed and covered for half an hour or more; every feature bespoke the
   most intense agitation; while I repeated—Will you believe God? Will you give
   Him credit for sincerity? She threw herself upon her knees, and burst into
   loud weeping. What a scene—to see a skeptic beginning to give her God credit
   for love and truth! To see the door of light and hope opened, and heaven’s
   blessed light breaking in upon a desolate soul! Have you ever witnessed such
   a scene?

   When she next opened her lips, it was to show forth a Saviour’s praise!

   The Bible assumes that you have light enough to see, and to do your duty,
   and to find the way to heaven. A great many of you are perhaps bewildered as
   to your religious opinions, holding loose and skeptical notions. You have
   not seen that it is the most reasonable thing in the world to admit and
   embrace this glorious truth. Will you allow yourself to go on, bewildered,
   without considering that you are yourself a living, walking revelation of
   truth? Will you refuse to come into such relations to God and Christ as will
   save your soul?

   In my early life, when I was tempted to skepticism, I can well recollect
   that I said to myself—It is much more probable that ministers and the
   multitudes of good men who believe the Bible are right, than that I am. They
   have examined the subject, but I have not. It is, therefore, entirely
   unreasonable for me to doubt.

   Why should you not say—I know the Gospel is suited to my warts. I know I am
   afloat on the vast ocean of life, and if there is no Gospel, there is
   nothing that can save me. It is, therefore, no way for me to stand here and
   cavil. I must examine—must look into this matter. I can at least see that if
   God offers me mercy, I must not reject it. Does not this Gospel show you how
   you can be saved from hell and from sin? O, then believe it! Let the blessed
   truth find a heart open for its admission. When you shall dare to give God
   credit for all His love and truth, and when you shall bring your heart under
   the power of this truth, and yield yourself up to its blessed sway, that
   will be the dawn of morning to your soul! Whosoever will, let him come and
   take of the waters of life, freely.
     _________________________________________________________________

                           XV. QUENCHING THE SPIRIT.

   “Quench not the Spirit.”-1 Thess. v. 19.

   IN discussing the subject presented in this text, I shall aim,

   I. To show how the Holy Spirit influences the mind;

   II. To deduce some inferences from the known mode of the Spirit’s
   operations;

   III. Show what it is to quench the Spirit;

   IV. Show how this may be done; and,

   V. The consequences of quenching the Spirit.
     _________________________________________________________________

I. How does the Holy Spirit influence the human mind?

   I answer, not by physical agency—not by the interposition of direct physical
   power. The action of the will is not influenced thus, and can not be. The
   very supposition is absurd. That physical agency should produce voluntary
   mental phenomena just as it does physical, is both absurd and at war with
   the very idea of free age. That the same physical agency which moves a
   planet should move the human will it absurd.

   But further: the Bible informs us that the Spirit influences the human mind
   by means of truth, The Spirit persuades men to act in view of truth, as we
   ourselves influence our fellow-men by truth presented to their minds. I do
   not mean that God presents truth to the mind in the same manner as we do. Of
   course His mode of doing it must differ from ours. We use the pen, the lips,
   the gesture; we use the language of words and the language of nature. God
   does not employ these means now; yet still He reaches the mind with truth.
   Sometimes His providence suggests it; and then His Spirit gives it
   efficiency, setting it home upon the heart with great power.

   Sometimes the Lord makes use of preaching; indeed, His ways are various.

   But, whatever the mode, the object is always the same namely, to produce
   voluntary action in conformity to His law.

   Now, it the Bible were entirely silent on this subject, we should still know
   from the nature of mind, and from the nature of those influences which. only
   can move the human mind, that the Spirit must exert not physical, but moral
   influences on the mind. Yet we are not now left to a merely metaphysical
   inference; we have the plain testimony of the Bible to the fact that the
   Spirit employs truth in converting and sanctifying men.
     _________________________________________________________________

II. We next inquire what is implied in this fact and what must be inferred from
it?

   God is physically omnipotent, and yet His moral influences exerted by the
   Spirit may be resisted. You will readily see that if the Spirit moved men by
   physical omnipotence, no mortal could possibly resist His influence. The
   Spirit’s power would, of course, be irresistible—for who could withstand
   omnipotence?

   But now we know it to be a fact that men can resist the Holy Ghost; for the
   nature of moral agency implies this and the Bible asserts it,

   The nature of moral agency implies the voluntary action, of one who can
   yield to motive and follow. light or not as he pleases. Where this power
   does. not exist, moral agency can not exist; and at whatever point this
   power ceases, there moral agency ceases also.

   Hence, if our action is that of moral agents, our moral freedom to do or not
   do must remain. It can not be set aside or in any way overruled. If God
   should in any way set aside our voluntary agency, he would of necessity
   terminate at once, our moral and responsible action. Suppose God should
   seize hold of a man’s arm with physical omnipotence and forcibly use it in
   deeds of murder or of arson; who does not see that the moral, responsible
   agency of that man would be entirely superseded? Yet not more so than if, in
   an equally irresistible manner, God should seize the man’s will and compel
   it to act as Himself listed.

   The very idea that moral influence can ever be irresistible originates in an
   entire mistake as to the nature of the wilt and of moral action. The will of
   man never can act otherwise than freely in view of truth and of the motives
   it presents for action. Increasing the amount of such influence has no sort
   of tendency to impair the freedom of the will. Under any possible vividness
   of truth perceived, or amount of motive present to the mind, the will has
   still the same changeless power to yield or not yield—to act or refuse to
   act in accordance with this perceived truth.

   Force and moral agency are terms of opposite meaning, They can not both
   co-exist. The one effectually precludes the other. Hence, to say that if God
   is physically omnipotent, He can and will force a moral agent in his moral
   action, is to talk stark nonsense.

   This fact shows that any work of God carried on by more and not by physical
   power not only can be resisted by man, but that man may be in very special
   danger of resisting it. If the Lord carries the work forward by means of
   revealed truth, there may be most imminent danger lest men will neglect to
   study and understand this truth, or lest, knowing, they shall refuse to obey
   it. Surely it is fearfully within the power of every man to shut out this
   truth from his consideration, and bar his heart against its influence.
     _________________________________________________________________

III. We next inquire what it is to quench the Spirit.

   We all readily understand this when we come to see distinctly what the work
   of the Spirit is. We have already seen that it is to enlighten the mind into
   truth respecting God, ourselves, and our duty. For example, the Spirit
   enlightens the mind into the meaning and self-application of the Bible, It
   takes the things of Christ and shows them to us.

   Now there is such a thing as refusing to receive this light You can shut
   your eyes against it. You have the power to turn your eye entirely away and
   scarcely see it at all. You can utterly refuse to follow it when seen; and
   in this case God ceases to hold up the truth before your mind.

   Almost every one knows by personal experience that the Spirit has the power
   of shedding a marvelous light upon revealed truth, so that this truth shall
   stand before the mind in a new and most impressive form, and shall operate
   upon it with astonishing energy. But this light of the Spirit may be
   quenched.

   Again: there is, so to speak, a sort of heat, a warmth and vitality
   attending the truth when enforced by the Spirit. Thus we say if one has the
   Spirit of God his soul is warm if he has not the Spirit, his heart is cold.

   This vital heat produced by the Divine Spirit may be quenched. Let a man
   resist the Spirit, and he will certainly quench this vital energy which it
   exerts upon the heart.
     _________________________________________________________________

IV. We are next to notice some of the ways in which the Spirit may be quenched.

   1. Men often quench the Spirit by directly resisting the truth He presents
   to their minds. Sometimes men set themselves deliberately to resist the
   truth, determined they will not yield to its power, at least for the
   present. In such cases it is wonderful to see how great the influence of the
   will is in resisting the truth. Indeed, the will can always resist any moral
   considerations; for, as we have seen, there is no such thing as forcing the
   will to yield to truth.

   In those cases wherein the truth presses strongly on the mind, there is
   presumptive evidence that the Spirit is present by His power. And it is in
   precisely these cases that men are especially prone to set themselves
   against the truth, and thus are in the utmost peril of quenching the Spirit.
   They hate the truth presented—it crosses their chosen path, of
   indulgence—they feel vexed and harassed by its claims; they resist and
   quench the Spirit of the Lord.

   You have doubtless often seen such cases, and if so, you have doubtless
   noticed this other remarkable fact of usual occurrence—that after a short
   struggle in resisting truth, the conflict is over, and that particular truth
   almost utterly ceases to affect the mind. The individual becomes hardened to
   its power—he seems quite able to overlook it and thrust it from his
   thoughts; or if this fails and the truth is thrown before his mind, yet he
   finds it comparatively easy to resist its claims, He felt greatly annoyed by
   that truth until he had quenched the Spirit; now he is annoyed by it no
   longer.

   If you have seen cases of this sort you have doubtless seen how as the truth
   pressed upon their minds they became restive, sensitive—then perhaps
   angry—but still stubborn in resisting—until at length the conflict subsides;
   the truth makes no more impression, and is henceforth quite dead as to them;
   they apprehend it only with the greatest dimness, and care nothing about it.

   And here let me ask—Have not some of you had this very experience? Have you
   not resisted some truth until it has ceased to affect your minds? If so,
   then you may conclude that you in that case quenched the Spirit of God.

   2. The Spirit is often quenched by endeavoring to support error.

   Men are sometimes foolish enough to attempt by argument to support a
   position which they have good reason to know is a false one. They argue, it
   till they get committed; they indulge in a dishonest state of mind; thus
   they quench the Spirit, and are usually left to believe the very lie which
   they so unwisely attempted to advocate. Many such cases have I seen when men
   began to defend and maintain a position known to be false, and kept on till
   they quenched the Spirit of God—believed their own lie, and, it is to be
   feared, will die under its delusions.

   3. By uncharitable judgments. Perhaps nothing more certainly quenches the
   Spirit than to impeach the motives of others and judge them uncharitably. It
   is so unlike God, and so hostile to the law of love, no wonder the Spirit of
   God is utterly averse to it, and turns away from those who indulge in it.

   4. The Spirit. is grieved by harsh and vituperative language. How often do
   persons grieve the Spirit of God by using such language toward those who
   differ from them. It is always safe to presume that persons who indulge such
   a temper have already grieved the Spirit of God utterly, away,

   5. The Spirit of God is quenched by a bad temper. When a bad temper and
   spirit are stirred up in individuals or in a community, who has not seen how
   suddenly a revival of religion ceases—the Spirit of God is put down and
   quenched; there is no more prevailing prayer and no more sinners are
   converted.

   6. Often the Spirit is quenched by diverting the attention from the truth.
   Since the Spirit operates through the truth, it is most obvious that we must
   attend to this truth which the Spirit would keep before our minds. If we
   refuse to attend, as we always can if we choose to do so, we shall almost
   certainly quench the Holy Spirit.

   7. We often quench the Spirit by indulging intemperate excitement on any
   subject. If the subject is foreign. from practical, divine truth, strong
   excitement diverts attention. from such truth and renders it almost
   impossible to feel its power. While the mind sees and feels keenly on the
   subject in which it is excited, it sees dimly and feels but coldly on the
   vital things of salvation. Hence the Spirit is quenched. But the intemperate
   excitement may be on some topic really religious. Sometimes I have seen a
   burst—a real tornado of feeling in a revival; but in such cases, truth loses
   its hold on the minds of the people; they are too much excited to take sober
   views of the truth and of the moral duties it inculcates. Not all religious
   excitement, however, is to be condemned. By no means. There must be
   excitement enough to arouse the mind to serious thought—enough to give the
   truth edge and power; but it is always well to avoid that measure of
   excitement which throws the mind from its balance and renders its
   perceptions of truth obscure or fitful.

   8. The Spirit is quenched by indulging prejudice. Whenever the mind is made
   up on any subject before it is thoroughly canvassed, that mind is shut
   against the truth and the Spirit is quenched. When there is great prejudice
   it seems impossible for the Spirit to act, and of course His influence is
   quenched. The mind is so committed that it resists, the first efforts of the
   Spirit.

   Thus have thousands done. Thus thousands ruin their souls for eternity.

   Therefore let every man keep big mind open to conviction and be sure to
   examine carefully all important questions, and especially all such as
   involve great questions of duty to God and man.

   I am saying nothing now against being firm in maintaining your position
   after you thoroughly understand it and are sure it is the truth. But while
   pursuing your investigations, be sure you are really candid and yield your
   mind to all the reasonable evidence you can find.

   9. The Spirit is often quenched by violating conscience. There are
   circumstances under which to violate conscience seems to quench the light of
   God in the soul forever. Perhaps you have seen cases of this sort where
   persons have had a very tender conscience on some subject, but all at once
   they come to have no conscience at all on that subject, I am aware that
   change of conduct sometimes results from change of views without any
   violation of conscience; but the case I speak of is where the conscience
   seems to be killed. All that remains of it seems hard as a stone.

   I have sometimes thought the Spirit of God had much more to do with
   conscience than we usually suppose. The fact is undeniable that men
   sometimes experience very great and sudden changes in the amount of
   sensibility of conscience which they feel on some subjects. How is this to
   be accounted for? Only by the supposition that the Spirit has power to
   arouse the conscience and make it pierce like an arrow; and then when men,
   notwithstanding, the reproaches of conscience, will sin, the Spirit is
   quenched; the conscience loses all its sensibility; an entire change takes
   place, and the man goes on to sin as if he never had any conscience to
   forbid it.

   It sometimes happens that the mind is awakened just on the eve of committing
   some particular sin. Perhaps something seems to say to him—If you do this
   you will be forsaken of God. A strange presentiment forewarns him to desist.
   Now if he goes on the whole mind receives a dreadful shock; the very eyes of
   the mind seem to be almost put out: the moral perceptions are strangely
   deranged and beclouded; a fatal violence is done to the conscience on that
   particular, subject at least, and indeed the injury to the conscience seems
   to affect all departments of moral action. In such circumstances the Spirit
   of God seems to turn away and say

   “I can do no more for you; I have warned you faithfully and can warn you no
   more.”

   All these results sometimes accrue from neglect of plainly revealed duty.
   Men shrink from known duty through fear of the opinions of others, or
   through dislike of some self-denial. In this crisis of trial the Spirit does
   not leave them in a state of doubt or inattention as to duty, but keeps the
   truth and the claims of God vividly before the mind. Then if men go on and
   commit the sin despite of the Spirit’s warnings, the soul is left in awful
   darkness—the light of the Spirit of God is quenched perhaps forever.

   I know not in how many cases I have seen persons in great agony and even
   despair who had evidently quenched the Spirit in the manner just described.
   Many of you may know the case of a young man who has been here. He had a
   long trial on the question of preparing himself for the ministry. He
   balanced the question for a long time, the claims of God being clearly set
   before him; but at last resisting the convictions of duty, he went off and
   got married, and turned away from the work to which God seemed to call him.
   Then the Spirit left him. For some few years he remained entirely hardened
   as to what he had done and as to any claims of God upon him, but finally his
   wife sickened and died. Then his eyes were opened; he saw what he had done.
   He sought the Lord, but sought in vain. No light returned to his darkened,
   desolate soul. It no longer seemed his duty to prepare for the ministry;
   that call of God had ceased. His cup of wretchedness seemed to be filled to
   the brim. Often he spent whole nights in most intense agony, groaning,
   crying for mercy, or musing in anguish upon the dire despair that spread its
   universe of desolation all around him. I have often feared be would take his
   own life, so perfectly wretched was be under these reproaches of a guilty
   conscience and these thoughts of deep despair.

   I might mention many other similar cases. Men refuse to do known duty, and
   this refusal does fatal violence to their own moral sense and to the Spirit
   of the Lord, and consequently there remains for them only a “certain fearful
   looking for of judgment and fiery indignation.”

   10. Persons often quench the Spirit by indulging their appetites and
   passions. You would be astonished if you were to know how often the Spirit
   is grieved by this means until a crisis is formed of such a nature that they
   seem to quench the light of God at once from their souls. Some persons
   indulge their appetite for food to the injury of their health, and though
   they know they are injuring themselves, and the! Spirit of God remonstrates
   and presses them hard to desist from ruinous self-indulgence, yet they
   persist in their course—are given up of God, and henceforth their appetites
   lord it over them to the ruin of their spirituality and of their souls. The
   same may be true of any form of sensual indulgence.

   11. The Spirit is often quenched by indulging in dishonesty. Men engaged in
   business will take little advantages in buying and selling.” Sometimes they
   are powerfully convinced of the great selfishness of this, and see that this
   is by, no means loving their neighbor as themselves. It may happen that a
   man about to drive a good bargain will raise the question—Is this right?
   Will balance it long in his mind will say, “Now this neighbor of mine needs
   this article, very much, and will suffer if he does not get it; this will
   give me a grand chance to put on a price; but then, would this be doing as I
   would be done by?” He looks and thinks—he sees duty, but finally decides in
   favor of his selfishness. Eternity alone will disclose the consequences of
   such a decision. When the Spirit of God has followed such persons a long
   time—has made them see their danger—has kept the truth before them, and
   finally seizing the favorable moment, makes a last effort and this proves
   unavailing—the die is cast; thereafter all restraints are gone, and the
   selfish man abandoned of God, goes on worse and worse, to State’s prison
   perhaps, and certainly to hell!

   12. Often men quench the Spirit by casting off fear and restraining prayer.
   Indeed, restraining prayer must always quench the Spirit. It is wonderful to
   see how naturally and earnestly the Spirit leads us to pray. If we were
   really led by the Spirit, we should be drawn many times a day to secret
   prayer, and should be continually lifting up our hearts in silent
   ejaculations whenever the mind unbends itself from other pressing
   occupations. The Spirit in the hearts of saints is pre-eminently a spirit of
   prayer, and of course to restrain, prayer must always quench the Spirit.

   Some of you, perhaps, have been in this very case. You have once had the
   spirit of prayer—now you have none of it; you had access to God—now you have
   it no longer; you have no more enjoyment in prayer—have no groaning and
   agonizing over the state of the church and of sinners. And if this spirit of
   prayer is gone, where are you now? Alas, you have quenched the Spirit of
   God—you have put out His light and repelled His influences from your soul.
   13. The Spirit is quenched by idle conversation. Few seem to be aware how
   wicked this is and how certainly it quenches the Holy Spirit. Christ said
   “that for every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account
   thereof in the day of judgment.”

   14. Men quench the Holy Ghost by a spirit of levity and trifling.

   Again by indulging a peevish and fretful spirit.

   Also by a spirit of indolence. Many indulge in this to such an extent as
   altogether to drive away the Holy Spirit. Again by a spirit of
   procrastination, and by indulging themselves in making excuses for neglect
   of duty. This is a sure way to quench the Spirit of God in the soul. 15. It
   is to be feared that many have quenched the Spirit by resisting the doctrine
   and duty of sanctification.

   This subject has been for a few years past extensively discussed; and the
   doctrine has also been extensively opposed. Several ecclesiastical bodies
   have taken ground against it, and sometimes it is to be feared that members
   have said and done what they would not by any means have said or done in
   their own closets or pulpits. Is it not also probable that many ministers
   and some laymen have been influenced by this very ecclesiastical action to
   oppose the doctrine the fear of man thus becoming a snare to their souls?
   May it not also be the case that some have opposed the doctrine really
   because it raises a higher standard of personal holiness than they like—too
   high, perhaps, to permit them to hope as Christians, too high for their
   experience, and too high to suit their tastes and habits for future life?
   Now who does not see that opposition to the doctrine and duty of
   sanctification on any such grounds must certainly and fatally quench the
   Holy Spirit? No work can lie more near the heart of Jesus than the
   sanctification of His people. Hence nothing can so greatly grieve Him as to
   see this work impeded—much more to see it opposed and frustrated.

   A solemn and awful emphasis is given to these considerations when you
   contemplate the facts respecting the prevalent state of piety in very many
   churches throughout the land. You need not ask—A revivals enjoyed—are
   Christians prayerful, self-denying, alive in faith and in love to God and to
   man. You need not ask if the work of sanctifying the Church is moving on
   apace, and manifesting itself by abounding fruits of righteousness; the
   answer meets you before you can well frame the question.

   Alas, that the Spirit should be quenched under the diffusion of the very
   truth which ought to sanctify the Church I What can save if Gospel promise
   in all its fullness is so perverted or resisted as to quench the Spirit and
   thus serve only to harden the heart?
     _________________________________________________________________

V. I am lastly to speak of the consequences of quenching the Holy Spirit.

   1. Great darkness of mind. Abandoned of God, the mind sees truth so dimly
   that it makes no useful impression. Such persons read the Bible without
   interest or profit. It becomes to them a dead-letter, and they generally lay
   it aside unless some controversy leads them to search it. They take no such
   spiritual interest in it as makes its perusal delightful.

   Have not some of you been in this very state of mind? this is that darkness
   of nature which is common to men, when the Spirit of God is withdrawn.

   2. There usually results great coldness and stupidity in regard to religion
   generally. It leaves to the mind no such interest in spiritual things as men
   take in worldly things.

   Persons often get into such a state that they are greatly interested in some
   worldly matters, but not in spiritual religion. Their souls. are all awake
   while worldly things are the subject; but suggest some spiritual subject,
   and their interest is gone at once. You can scarcely get them to attend a
   prayer-meeting. They are in a worldly state of mind you may know, for if the
   Spirit of the Lord was with them, they, would be more deeply interested in
   religious services than in anything else.

   But now, mark them. Get up a political meeting or a theatrical exhibition
   and their souls are all on fire; but go and appoint a prayer-meeting or a
   meeting to promote a revival, and they are not there; or if there, they feel
   no interest in the object.

   Such persons often seem not to know themselves. They perhaps think they
   attend to these worldly things, only for the glory of God; I will believe
   this when I see them interested in spiritual things as much.

   When a man has quenched the Spirit of God his religion is all outside. His
   vital, heart-affecting interest in spiritual things is gone.

   It is indeed true that a spiritual man will take some interest in worldly
   things because he regards them as a part of his duty to God, and to him they
   are spiritual things.

   3. The mind falls very naturally into diverse errors in religion. The heart
   wanders from God, loses its hold on the truth, and perhaps the man insists
   that he now takes a much more liberal and enlightened view of the subject
   than before;

   A short time since, I had a conversation with a man who had given up the
   idea that the Old Testament was inspired—had given up the doctrine of the
   atonement, and indeed every distinctive doctrine of the Bible. He remarked
   to me, “I used to think as you do; but I have now come to take a more
   liberal and enlightened view of the subject.” Indeed! this a more liberal
   and enlightened view! So blinded as not to see that Christ sanctioned the
   Old Testament as the oracles of God, and yet he flatters himself that he now
   takes a more liberal and enlightened view! There can be nothing stronger
   than Christ’s affirmations respecting the inspiration of the Old Testament;
   and yet this man admits these affirmations to be true and yet denies the
   very thing they affirm! Most liberal and enlightened view, truly!

   How can you possibly account for such views except on the ground that for
   some reason the man has fallen into a strange, unnatural state of mind—a
   sort of mental fatuity in which moral truths are beclouded or distorted?

   Everybody knows that there can not be a greater absurdity than to admit the
   divine authority of the teachings of Christ and yet reject the Old
   Testament. The language of Christ affirms and implies the authority of the
   Old Testament in all those ways in which, on the supposition that the Old
   Testament is inspired, He might be expected to affirm and imply this fact.

   The Old Testament does not indeed exhaust divine revelation; it left more
   things to be revealed. Christ taught much, but nothing more clearly than the
   divine authority of the Old Testament.

   4. Quenching the Spirit often results in infidelity. What can account for
   such a case as that I have just mentioned, unless this—that God has left the
   mind to fall into very great darkness?

   5. Another result is great hardness of heart. The mind becomes callous to
   all that class of truths which make it yielding and tender. The mobility of
   the heart under truth depends entirely upon its moral hardness. If very
   hard, truth makes no impression; if soft, then it is yielding as air, and
   moves quick to the touch of truth in any direction.

   6. Another result is deep delusion in regard to their spiritual state. How
   remarkable that persons will claim to be Christians when they have rejected
   every distinctive doctrine of Christianity. Indeed, such persons do
   sometimes claim that by thus rejecting almost the whole of the Bible, and
   all its great scheme of salvation by an atonement, they have become real
   Christians. Now they have got the true light. Indeed!

   How can such a delusion be accounted for except on the ground that the
   Spirit of God has abandoned the man to his own ways and left him to utter
   and perfect delusion? 7. Persons in this state often justify themselves in
   most manifest wrong, because they put darkness for light and light for
   darkness. They intrench themselves in perfectly false principles, as if
   those principles were true and could amply justify their misdeeds.
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REMARKS.

   1. Persons often are not aware what is going on in their minds when they are
   quenching the Spirit of God. Duty is presented and pressed upon them, but
   they do not realize that this is really the work of the Spirit of God. They
   are not aware of the present voice of the Lord to their hearts, nor do they
   see that this solemn impression of the truth is nothing other than the
   effect of the Holy Ghost on their minds.

   2. So when they come to take different views and to abandon their former
   opinions, they seem not conscious of the fact that God has departed from
   them. They flatter themselves that they have become very liberal and very
   much enlightened withal, and have only given up their former errors. Alas,
   they do not see that the light they now walk in is darkness—all sheer
   darkness! “Woe to them who put light for darkness and darkness for light!”

   You see how to account for the spiritual state of some persons. Without the
   clue which this subject affords, you might be much misled. In the case just
   described, suppose that I had taken it for granted that this man was in
   truth taking a more rational and liberal view; I should have been misguided
   entirely.

   3. I have good reason to know how persons become Unitarians and
   Universalists, having seen at least some hundreds of instances. It is not by
   becoming more and more men of prayer and real spirituality—not by getting
   nearer and nearer to God; they do not go on progressing in holiness, prayer,
   communion with God, until in their high attainments they reach a point where
   they deny the inspiration of the Bible, give up public prayer, the
   ordinances of the Gospel, and probably secret prayer along with the rest.
   Those who give up these things are not led away while wrestling in prayer
   and while walking humbly and closely with God; no man ever got away from
   orthodox views while in this state of mind. But men first get away from God
   and quench His Spirit; then embrace one error after another; truth falls out
   of the mind and we might almost sly truthfulness itself, or those qualities
   or moral attributes which capacitate the mind to discern and apprehend the
   truth; and then darkness becomes so universal and so deceptive I that men
   suppose themselves to be wholly in the light,

   4. Such a state of mind is most deplorable and often hopeless. What can be
   done when a man has grieved the Spirit of God away?

   5. When an individual or a people have quenched the Spirit, they are in the
   utmost danger of being given up to some delusion that will bring them by a
   short route to destruction.

   6. They take entirely false ground who maintain that if a religious movement
   is the work of God, it can not be resisted. For example, I have often seen
   cases where persons would stop a revival, and then say, “It was not a real
   revival, for if it had been it would not have stopped.”

   Let a man adopt the opinion that he can not stop the work of God in his own
   soul; nothing can be more perilous. Let a people adopt the notion that
   revivals come and go without our agency and by the agency of God only, and
   it will bring perfect ruin on them. There never was a revival that could
   exist three days under such a delusion. The solemn: truth is that the Spirit
   is most easily quenched. There is no moral work of His that can not be
   resisted”

   7. An immense responsibility pertains to revivals. There Is always fearful
   danger lest the Spirit should be resisted.

   So when the Spirit is with an individual, there is the greatest danger lest
   something be said, ruinous to the soul.

   Many persons here are in the greatest danger. The Spirit often labors with
   sinners here, and many have grieved away,

   8. Many seem not to realize the nature of the Spirit’s operations, the
   possibility always of resisting, and the great danger of quenching that
   light of God in the soul.

   How many young men could I name here, once thoughtful, now stupid. Where are
   those young men who were so serious, and who attended the inquiry meeting so
   long in our last revival? Alas, have they quenched the Holy Spirit?

   Is not this the case with you, young man? with you, young woman? Have not
   you quenched the Spirit until now your mind is darkened and your heart
   woefully hardened? How long are the death-knell shall toll over you and your
   soul go down to hell? How long before you will lose your hold on all truth
   and the Spirit will have left you utterly?

   But let me bring this appeal home to the hearts of those who have not yet
   utterly quenched the light of God in the soul. Do you find that truth still
   takes hold of your conscience—that God’s word flashes on your mind—that
   heaven’s light is not yet utterly extinguished, and there is still a
   quivering of conscience? You hear of a sudden death, like that of the young
   man the other day, and trembling seizes your soul, for you know that another
   blow may single out you. Then by all the mercies of God I beseech you take
   care what you do. Quench not the Holy Ghost, lest your sun go down in
   everlasting darkness. just as you may have seen the sun set when it dipped
   into a dark, terrific, portentous thunder-cloud. So a benighted sinner dies!
   Have you ever seen such a death? Dying, he seemed to sink into an awful
   cloud of fire and storm and darkness. The scene was fearful, like a
   sun-setting of storms, and gathering clouds, and rolling thunders, and
   forked lightnings. The clouds gather low in the west; the spirit of storm
   rides on the blast; belching thunders seem as if they would cleave the solid
   earth; behind such a fearful cloud the sun drops, and all is darkness! So
   have I seen a sinner give up the ghost and drop into a world of storms, and
   howling tempests, and flashing fire.

   O, how unlike the setting sun of a mild summer evening. All nature seems to
   put on her sweetest smile as she bids the king of day adieu.

   So dies the saint of God. There may be paleness on his lip and cold sweat on
   his brow, but there is beauty in that eye and glory in the soul. I think of
   a woman just converted, when she was taken sick—brought down to the gates of
   death—yet was her soul full of heaven. Her voice was the music of angels;
   her countenance shone, her eye sparkled as if the forms of heavenly glory
   were embodied in her dying features.

   Nature at last sinks—the moment of death has come; she stretches out her
   dying hands and hails the waiting spirit-throng. “Glory to God!” she cries;
   “I am coming! I am coming!” Not going—observe—she did not say, “I am
   going,” but, “I am coming!“

   But right over against this, look at the sinner dying. A frightful glare is
   on his countenance as if he saw ten thousand demons! As if the setting sun
   should go down into an ocean of storms—to be lost in a world charged with
   tornadoes, storms, and death!

   Young man, you will die just so if you quench the Spirit of God. Jesus
   Himself has said, “If ye will not believe, ye shall die in your sins.”
   Beyond such a death, there is an awful hell.
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                     XVI. THE SPIRIT NOT STRIVING ALWAYS.

   “And the Lord said, My Spirit shall not always strive with man.”-Gen. vi. 3.

   IN speaking from this text I shall pursue the following outline of thought,
   and attempt to show:

   I. What is implied in the assertion, My Spirit shall not always strive with
   man;

   II. What is not intended by the Spirit’s striving;

   III. What is intended by it;

   IV. How it maybe known when the Spirit strives with an individual;

   V. What is intended by His not striving always;

   VI. Why He will not always strive; and,

   VII. Some consequences of His ceasing to strive with men.
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I. What is implied in the assertion, “My Spirit shall not always strive with
man?”

   1. It is implied in this assertion, that the Spirit does some times strive
   with men. It is nonsense to affirm that He will not strive always, if the
   fact of His striving sometimes be not implied. Beyond all question, the text
   assumes the doctrine that God by His Spirit does strive sometimes with
   sinning men.

   2. It is also implied that men resist the Spirit. For there can be no strife
   unless there be resistance. If sinners always yielded at once to the
   teachings and guidance of the Spirit, there could be no “striving” on the
   part of the Spirit, in the sense here implied, and it would be altogether
   improper to use the language here employed. In fact, the language of our
   text implies long-continued resistance—so long continued that God declares
   that the struggle shall not be kept up on His part forever.

   I am well aware that sinners are prone to think that they do not resist God.
   They often think that they really want the Spirit of God to be with them,and
   to strive with them. What, indeed! Think of this! If a sinner really wanted
   the Spirit of God to convert or to lead him, how could he resist the Spirit?
   But in fact he does resist the Spirit. What Stephen affirmed of the Jews of
   his time, is true in general of all sinners, “Ye do always resist the Holy
   Ghost.” For if there were no resistance on the sinner’s part, there could be
   no striving on the part of the Spirit. So that it is a mere absurdity that a
   sinner in a state of mind to resist the Spirit should yet sincerely desire
   to be led into truth and duty by the Spirit. But sinners are sometimes so
   deceived about themselves as to suppose that they want God to strive with
   them, while really they are resisting all He is doing, and are ready to
   resist all He will do. So blinded to their own true characters are sinners.
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II. What is not intended by the Spirit’s striving.

   Here the main thing to be observed is that it is not any form of physical
   struggling or effort whatever. It is not any force applied to our bodies. It
   does not attempt to urge us literally along toward God or heaven. This is
   not to be thought of at all.
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III. What, then, is the striving of the Spirit?

   I answer, it is an energy of God, applied to the mind of man, setting truth
   before his mind, debating, reasoning, convincing, and persuading. The sinner
   resists God’s claims, cavils and argues against them; and then God, by His
   Spirit, meets the sinner and debates with him, somewhat as two men might
   debate and argue with each other. You are not, however, to understand that
   the Holy Ghost does this with an audible voice, to the human ear, but He
   speaks to the mind and to the heart. The inner ear of the soul can hear its
   whispers.

   Our Saviour taught that when the Comforter should come He would “reprove the
   world of sin, of righteousness and of judgment.” (John xvi. 7-11.) The term
   here rendered “reprove” refers, in its proper sense, to judicial
   proceedings. When the judge has heard all the testimony and the arguments of
   counsel, he sums up the whole case and lays it before the jury, bringing out
   all the strong points and making them bear with all their condensed and
   accumulated power upon the condemnation of the criminal. This is reproving
   him in the original and legitimate sense of the word used here by our
   Saviour. Thus the Holy Ghost reproves the world of sin, of righteousness,
   and of judgment. Thus does the Spirit convince or convict the sinner by
   testimony, by argument, by arraying all the strong points of the case
   against him under circumstances of affecting solemnity and power.
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IV. How may it be known when the Spirit of God strives with an individual!

   Not by direct perception of His agency, through any of your physical senses;
   for His presence is not manifested to these organs. Not directly by our
   consciousness; for the only proper subjects of consciousness are the acts
   and states of our own minds. But we know the presence and agency of the
   Spirit by His works. The results He produces are the legitimate proofs of
   His presence. Thus a person under the Spirit’s influence, finds his
   attention arrested to the great concerns of his soul. The solemn questions
   of duty and responsibility to God are continually intruding themselves upon
   his mind. If he is a student over his lesson, his mind is drawn away
   continually, ere he is aware, to think of God and of the judgment to come.
   He turns his attention back to his books, but soon it is off again. How can
   he neglect these matters of infinite moment to his future well-being?

   So with men of every calling; the Spirit of God turns the mind, and draws it
   to God and the concerns of the soul. When such results take place, you may
   know that the Spirit of God is the cause. For who does not know that this
   drawing and inclining of the mind toward God is by no means natural to the
   human heart? When it does occur, therefore, we may know that the special
   agency of God is in it.

   Again, when a man finds himself convinced of sin, he may know that this is
   the Spirit’s work. Now it is one thing to know one’s self to be a sinner,
   and quite another to feel a realizing sense of it, and to have the truth
   take hold mightily of the deepest sensibilities of the soul. The latter
   sometimes takes place. You may see the man’s countenance fallen, his eye
   downcast, his whole aspect is as if he had disgraced himself by some foul
   crime, or as if be had suddenly lost all the friends he ever had. I have
   often met with impenitent sinners who looked condemned, as if conscious
   guilt had taken hold of their inmost soul. They would not be aware that they
   were revealing in their countenances the deep workings of their hearts, but
   the observing eye could not help seeing it. I have also seen the same among
   backslidden professors, resulting from the same cause—the Spirit of God
   reproving them of sin.

   Sometimes this conviction is of a general and sometimes of a more special
   nature. It may enforce only the general impression, “I am all wrong; I am
   utterly odious and hateful to God; my whole heart is a sink of abomination
   in His sight;” or in other cases it may seize upon some particular form of
   sin, and hold it up before the sinner’s mind, and make him see his infinite
   odiousness before God for this sin. It may be a sin he has never thought of
   before, or he may have deemed it a very light matter; but now, through the
   Spirit, it shall rise up before his mind, in such features of ugliness and
   loathsomeness, that he will abhor himself. He sees sin in a perfectly new
   light. Many things are sins now which he never deemed sins before.

   Again, the Spirit not only convinces of the fact that such and such things
   are sins, but convicts the mind of the great guilt and ill-desert of sin.
   The sinner is made to feel that his sin deserves the direst damnation.

   The case of an infidel of my acquaintance may serve to illustrate this. He
   had lived in succession with two pious wives; had read almost every book
   then extant on the inspiration of the Scriptures—had disputed, and caviled,
   and often thought himself to have triumphed over believers in the Bible, and
   in fact he was the most subtle infidel I ever saw. It was remarkable that in
   connection with his infidelity he had no just views of sin. He had indeed
   heard much about some dreadful depravity which had come down in the cur rent
   of human blood from Adam, and was itself a physical thing; but as usual be
   had no oppressive consciousness of guilt for having his share of this
   original taint. His mind consequently was quite easy in respect to the guilt
   of his own sin.

   But at length a change came over him, and his eyes were opened to see the
   horrible enormity of his guilt. I saw him one day so borne down with sin and
   shame that he could not look up. He bowed his head upon his knees, covere