are.

skill would say, "We are as competent to judge of this matter as you There is no secret in knowledge. There is no exclusive key to wisdom. There is no hidden way to art. Prove that there is, and then it may be that the mystery is in your possession. But until you establish this point, your claim is absurd and insufferable, and not worth

examination.'

Now the whole evil as well as the whole peculiarity of religious controversy, lies in this spirit of exclusion-in the assumption that opponents cannot be good men. Otherwise, controversy is a good thing. That is to say, honest and friendly discussion is good. The whole evil, I say, lies in the assumption of an exclusive knowledge of religion. Persecution proceeds upon no other ground. Men have been imprisoned, tortured, put to death, not merely because they erred, not simply because they differed from their brethren, but because that error, that difference, was supposed to involve the very salvation of the soul. Men have been punished, not as errorists simply, but as men irreligious and bad, and as making others so. I speak now of honest persecution. Its object has been the salvation of souls. Its doctrine has been, "painful as torture is, it is better than perdition; better fires on earth than fires in hell." But the persecuted brethren say, “We are not irreligious and bad men. We wish the truest good to ourselves and others; and though you oppose us, as you must, you ought not to hate, or torture, or vilify us; we no more deserve it than you do." And what is the reply? "You know nothing about the matter. You suppose yourselves to be good and true, and to have favour with God and a good hope of heaven; but we know better; we know what true religion is, and we say that you are totally devoid of it." And this judgment, I repeat, can fairly proceed upon nothing but the notion that religion is a secret in the possession of the persecutors.

Let it be otherwise, as surely it ought to be, if anything ought; let religion, the great sentiment, the great interest of humanity, be common ground, open and common to all; let men take their stand upon it, and say, as they say in other differences of opinion, "We all wish the same thing; we would all be happy, we would get to heaven; what else can we wish?" and do you not see how instantly religious disputes would take on a new character; how gentle, and charitable, and patient, and tolerant, they would become? But now, alas! the toleration of science, of art, nay, and of politics too, goes beyond the toleration of religion! Men do not say to their literary or political opposers, "Ye are haters of science or art; ye hate the common country;" but in religion, they say, Ye are haters of God, and of good men, and of all that is truly good." Yes, the occasion for this tremendous exclusion is found in religion that which was ordained to be the bond of love, the bosom of confidence, the garner of souls into heaven; the theme of all grandeur and of all tenderness; the comforter of affliction, the loving nurse of all human virtues, the range of infinity, the reach to eternity, the example of the one meek and lowly; the authority, at once, and the pity, of the heavenly Father!

66

The next subject for the application of the point I am considering, is religious institutions. Under this head, I must content myself with briefly pointing out a single example. The example is the ordinance of the Lord's Supper. The question I have to ask is-why do so

many sober, conscientious, and truly religious persons, refrain from a participation in this rite? And the answer, with many, is doubtless to be found in the notion, that religion involves some secret, or the experience of some secret grace-something different from moral uprightness and religious gratitude-with which they are not acquainted. I do not say that this account embraces every case of neglect, but I say that it embraces many. I will suppose a person, conscious of a sincere intent to be in all things a true and good man, conscious too of religious affections, and desirous of cultivating them-one, believing in Christ, believing that his life and his death are the most powerful known ministration to human sanctity and blessedness; one, also, truly disposed to impress the spirit of Christ upon his own heart, and persuaded that the meditations of the Communion season would be a help and comfort to him; and why now, I ask, shall he not avail himself of that appointed means? He is desirous of sacred culture. This is a means, and he wishes to embrace it. Why does he not? I am sure that I may answer for him, that he would do so if he felt that he were qualified. But this is the difficulty; he is afraid that there is some qualification, unknown to him; and that he shall commit a sin of rashness and presumption if he comes to the sacred ordinance.

You can

My friends, it is all a mistake. You do know, in a greater or less measure, what Christian virtue, what Christian piety is. know, whether you desire to cultivate this character. If you do, that very desire is the qualification. Means are for those who need them, not for those who need them not-for the imperfect, not for the perfect. The felt need of means, the sincere desire of means, is the qualification for them. If, being believers in Christianity, you also believe that our communion meditations would help you, you should as such come to them, as you come to the prayers of the sanctuary. And you should as freely come. The Lord's Supper is a service no more sacred than the service of prayer. Nothing can be more solemn than solemn prayer.

There is one more subject to be noticed under this head of treatment of religion-by far the most important of all-and that is religious seeking; the seeking, in other words, to establish in one's self that character on which God's approbation, and all true good, all true happiness, depend, and will for ever depend. Momentous pursuit!-that for which man was made, and life with all its ordinances was given, and the Gospel, with all its means of grace, and manifestations of mercy, was published to the world-that in which every man should be more vitally and practically interested than in every other pursuit on earth. Everything else may a man seek and gain; the whole world may he gain, and after all, lose this supreme interest. And yet to how many, alas! will this very statement which I am making, appear technical, dry, and uninteresting!-to how many more, irrelevant to them, foreign to their concerns, appropriate to other persons, but a matter with which they have nothing to do! A kind of demure assent they may yield to the importance of religion, but no vital faith; nothing of that which carries them, with such vigour and decision, to the pursuit of property, pleasure, and fame.

Now, is there any difficulty in accounting for this deplorable condition of the general mind? Make religion a mystic secret, divest it of every attractive and holy charm, sever it from everything that men

already know and feel of goodness and love; tell them that they are totally depraved, totally destitute, totally ignorant: and they may "wonder and perish;" but can they rationally seek anything? Men may be very depraved, they may be extremely deficient of the right affections, as they doubtless are; but if they saw the subject in the right light, they could not be indifferent. There could not be this heavy and benumbing cloud of apathy, spreading itself over the whole world. I have seen the most vicious men, intensely conscious, conscious with mingled anger and despair, that the course of virtue is the only happy course. And do you preach to the most selfish and corrupt of men in this wise, saying, "Nothing but purity, gentleness, love, disinterestedness, can make you happy-happy in yourself, in your family, or in society; and nothing but the love of God can make you happy amidst the strifes and griefs of this life, and the solemn approaches to death;" and they know that what you say is true; they know that you are dealing with realities; and they cannot be indifferent. They may be angry; but anger is not indifference. But now, do you speak to them in a different tone and manner, and say, "You must get religion; you must experience the grace of God, in order to be happy;" and immediately their interest will subside to that state of artificial acquiescence and real apathy, which now characterizes the mass of our Christian communities.

Nor is this, save for its extent, the most affecting view of the common mistake. There are real and anxious seekers. And how are they seeking? I have been pained to see such persons-often intelligent persons-blindly groping about as for the profoundest secret. They have no distinct idea of what it is they want, what they are to obtain, what they are to do. All that they seem to know is, that it is some thing to be wrought in their souls, and something on which their sal vation depends. They go about from one meeting to another, from one master in Israel, or from one Revival preacher, or from one experienced person to another, and say, "Tell us what this thing is, that is to be done in us; how did you feel when you were converted?-how was it? -how did the power of divine grace come upon you?-what was the change in that very moment when you passed from death to life?" Well, to such, may the apostolic teaching speak in this wise, "Say not who shall go up into heaven, that is to bring Christ down; or who shall go beyond the sea to bring him near?-for the word is nigh thee, in thy mouth and in thy heart, that thou shouldst do it." In your own heart, in the simplest convictions of right and wrong, are the teachings that you want. This," says the apostle, "is the word of salvation which we preach; that if thou wilt believe in thy heart, and confess with thy tongue, that Jesus is the Christ, thou shalt be saved." That is, if thou wilt have a loving faith in Jesus Christ as thy guide, example, and Saviour, and carry that faith into open action, and endeavour to follow him, thou shalt be saved. In one word, if thou wilt be like Christ, if thou wilt imbibe his spirit, and imitate his excellence, thou shalt be happy; thou shalt be blessed-blessed and happy for ever. But the spirit, the loveliness of Christ, is no mystic secret. It is known and read of all men. It requires no mysterious initiation to instruct you in it. I do not object of course to seeking for light, or to seeking aid from men-from the wise and experienced; but I do object to your seeking

from them any initial or mysterious knowledge of what religion is. Let you stand alone upon a desolate island, with the Gospel in your hands; and then and there do thou read that sacred page, and pray over it, and strive patiently to bring your heart into accordance with it-to bring what is already in you-your love and trust-up to conformity with it; and you are in the way of salvation.

Oh! sad and lamentable perversion-that the greatest good in the universe, the very end of our being, the very point of all sublime human attainment, the very object for which rational and spiritual faculties were given us, should be a mystery; that the very light by which we must walk, must be utter darkness, and that all we can do is, to put out our hand and grope about in that darkness; that the very salvation, in which all the welfare of our souls is bound up, should be a dark enigma, and that all we can do is to hope that we shall some time or other know what it is! "No," says the apostle, "the word is nigh thee, in thy mouth and in thy heart that thou shouldst do it; that is the salvation which we preach."

ON THE IDENTITY OF RELIGION WITH GOODNESS,

AND WITH A GOOD LIFE.

1 JOHN iv. 20: "If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar; for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?"

FROM these words I propose to take up again the subject of my last discourse. I have shown that saving virtue, or whatever it be that is to save men, is commonly regarded, not as the increase or strengthening of any principle that is already in them, but as the implantation in them of a principle entirely new and before unknown. I have endeavoured to make this apparent, by a statement, in several forms, of the actual views that prevail, of religion and of obtaining religion. I have shown that with regard to religion or grace in the heart, the common feeling undoubtedly is, that it is a mystery-a thing which the people do not comprehend, and which they never expect to comprehend but by the experience of regeneration.

I may now observe, in addition, that all this clearly follows from the doctrine of total depravity. This doctrine asserts, that in our natural humanity there is not one particle of true religion or of saving virtue. Of course, human nature knows nothing about it. The only way in which we can come at the knowledge of moral qualities, is by feeling them in ourselves. This is an unquestioned truth in philosophy. If we have no feeling of rectitude or of religion, we can have no knowledge of it. It follows, therefore, from the doctrine of universal and total depravity, that, to the mass of men, religion, as an inward principle, must be a mystery, an enigma, a thing altogether incomprehensible.

This position-held by many Christians, but rejected by not a few, and presenting, in my opinion, the most momentous point of controversy in the Christian world-I have proposed to discuss with a freedom and seriousness proportioned to its immense importance.

With this view, I proposed to consider its bearings on the estimate and treatment of religion, the culture of religion, and its essential vitality and power.

The first of these subjects I have already examined, and I now proceed to the second.

The next topic, then, of which I was to speak, is religious culture, or what is commonly called growth in grace. I cannot dwell much upon this subject; but I must not pass it by entirely.