PRINCETON, N. J. % _3 V 230 .S65 1 852 Spring, Gardiner, 1785-1873. The mercy seat K.^, THE MERCY SEAT; THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY S;t)e Cork's prager. BY GARDINER" SPRING, D.D. PASTOa OF BRICK PEESBYTERIAN CHURCH IN THE CITY OF NEW TO&X. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY M. W. DODD, BRICK CHURCH CHAPEL, CITY HALL SQUARE, (OPPOSITE THE CITY HALL.) 1852. CRAIGHEAD, PRXNTEl, 53 Vesej- Street. \thso €)ur Iat\)tx, u)l)D art in ^eauen, ^allotDtir be 3[l)g name* €l)B kingdom come. ®1)b toill be irone on eartl) 00 it 10 in ^eat^en. (&m U0 tl)i0 ha^ our bailg breair- '^.nb forgitje U0 our bebt0, a0 rue forgit)e our &ebtor0- 3.n& lea& U0 not into temptation, but &eliuer U0 from eoiU iTor t\)xnt xb i\)t kingdom, anb tl)e poroer, an& tl)e glorg, foreoer, ^men. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON PRAYER, 1 CHAPTER H. THE INSTRUCTIONS OF THE BIBLE AS TO THE MATTER AND MANNER OF PRAYER, ... 31 CHAPTER HI. GOD A FATHER, 5l CHAPTER IV. THE NAME OF GOD HALLOWED, 87 CHAPTER V. THE KINGDOM OF GOD ON THE EARTH, 112 CHAPTER VI. THE MEANS OF EXTENDING GOD's KINGDOM, 139 CHAPTER VH. THE WILL OF GOD PERFORMED ON EARTH, 164 CHAPTER Vin. DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPORAL BLESSINGS, l77 yf CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. rxam PRATER AND PAINS, . 201 CHAPTER X, THE DOCTRINE OF FORGIVENESS, . 221 CHAPTER XI. PRAYER FOR FORGIVENESS, 23& CHAPTER Xn. A FORGIVING SPIRIT, 255 CHAPTER Xm. A MARTIAL SPIRIT NOT THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTIANlTT, . .275 CHAPTER XIV. TEMPTATION DEPLORED, 308 CHAPTER XV. THE DREAD OF SIN, 329 CHAPTER XVI. THE ARGUMENT BY WHICH PRAYER IS ENFORCED, . . . 355 THE MERCY SEAT CHAPTER I. GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON PRAYER. The Mercy Seat was the covering of the ark of the covenant. At each end of this over- shadow^ing oracle was a cherub of pure and massive gold, stretching out its wings, each to- ward the other, and forming a sort of throne. There was the visible emblem of the divine presence, and "God appeared in the cloud." There the high priest took of the blood of the bullock of the sin-oifering, " and sprinkled it with his finger upon the mercy seat eastward, seven times." The book of the Law was there, protected by the ark of the covenant, and bear- ing the marks of atoning blood. It was God's throne of grace, and where the thrilling words were often addressed, " O thou who art seated between the cherubim V It was the place of prayer: "There will I meet thee," says God 8 THE MRRCY SEAT. to Moses, "and I will commune with thee from between the two cherubim which are upon the ark of the testimony." We wish the reader to go with us to that mercy seat. We doubt not he has often been there, and listened to the instructions, as w^ell as been comforted by the hopes uttered from the holy oracle. We are not introducing him to new scenes, nor do we profess to interest him with novel truths. There is nothing new on the subject of prayer. How can there be ? It is addressed to the same Being, by creatures of the same fallen character; it is expressive of the same affections, and under the influence of the same Spirit ; it utters, for the most part, the same precious thoughts, and for the same ends. There are men who have questioned the propriety of prayer; but they are those who, though they need the most, are most slow to ask. There are those who feel insuper- able objections to it; but they are only the objections of a prayerless heart. There are those who feel strong temptations to neglect it ; but it is because Satan, that great deceiver, is well aware that the man whose home is the mercy seat is no longer the victim of his delu- sions. And there are those who have no com- fort in it, and therefore restrain prayer before God. Yet is there no duty the Scriptures more GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON PRAYER. explicitly enforce; no source of consolation which they more abundantly magnify. Prayer is the language of desire ; it is " the offering up of our desires to God." It is the devotional thoughts and affections of the soul expressed in words. No spiritual emotions en- ter more intimately into the experience of the Christian, or more truly form the character of his piety, than those which are felt and ex- pressed in his habitual intercourse with God. If he has adoring views of his Maker, and hum- bling views of himself; if he hungers and thirsts after righteousness ; if he has strong confidence and joy; if his desires go out toward the en- largement and beautifying of the church of God on the earth, and the salvation of men ; no- where do these internal emotions and desires find utterance so truly as in prayer. Where these devout affections exist with anything like ardor and intensity, they are uttered by a sort of necessity. Such persons cannot help praying. It is not possible that emotions thus deep and spiritual, thus high-born and heaven- imparted, should remain silent and smothered within the bosom. The heart is too deeply af- fected by them not to seek this relief. Prayer is the language of nature, because it is the language of desire and want. Even the "young lions, when they wander for lack of meat, 1* ^ 10 THE MERCY SEAT, cry unto God !'^ The veriest infidel, the vile athe- ist, in seasons of great public calamity, or per- sonal danger and suffering, forget their infidelity and atheism, and pray. Emphatically then is it true of the Christian, that he is a man of prayer. Though he knows that his neglect of prayer will not prevent t4ie Father of mercies from causing his sun to shine upon the evil and upon the good, nor his rain from descending on the just and the unjust ; his own heart will not alloAV him to live in that neglect. The divine bounty may still deck the earth with verdure and clothe it with fertility, and he may be a partaker of this, God's impartial goodness, while it is unsolicited ; yet is there something within his own heart that constrains him to pray. He has wants which nothing but prayer can supply ; spiritual neces- sities, wants of the soul, which without prayer feeds on husks. Just as the plant strikes its roots into the ground to draw thence its vigor and nutriment ; just as the flower opens its bosom to the sunlight and the dew ; so the soul, by prayer, has communication Avith the God of all grace, and places itself under the kind influences of his love. It is like the stream cut off from its fountain, when it ceases to pray. It is like the plant that grows in the shade, pale and sickly ; the sport of the winds, and blown about by the tempests of passion and the storms GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON PRAYER. ll of earth, because it seeks not this heavenly pro- tection and aliment. Those who know most of the power of prayer, are themselves the witnesses of the strength and fervor of its dosires. None have felt more deeply than they, that they cannot break the bondage of sin, nor, when once broken, can they enjoy the liberty of God's children, without strong crying and many tears. " Having escaped the pollutions of the world, through the knowledge of God their Saviour," they are sure to be again " entangled in them and overcome," if they live without prayer. Those periods of their history in which their faith has been the most weak, their love cold, their zeal relaxed and wearied ; when their rel- ish for heavenly contemplation becaoie dull and insipid, and they " savored not the things that be of God, but the things that be of men;" und when they cast their eye backward upon the world and its pleasures; were seasons in which their lukewarmness, if it did not shut them out of their closets, shut them out from all communion with God. The degree of interest which men take in this religious service, may be uniformly looked upon as a sort of moral barometer by which they may ascertain the elevations and depressions of their spiritual state. The mercy seat is the place where the Shekinah dwells, and where, beholding as in » 12 THE MERCY SEAT. glass the glory of the Lord, the suppliant is trans- formed into the same image, from glory to glory. It is the mountain-top, which catches the last rays of the sun when it no longer shines on the vale below. The examples of prayer furnished in the Bi- ble are exemplifications of true, sincere, and strong desire. The only rebukes to prayer ever uttered in the sacred volume are against those supplications in which the desires of the soul have no part, where the heart is wanting, and w^here the most solemn offerings are but " vain oblations." Every gracious affection has both its aliment and expression in prayer. Its adoring love is there uttered, sometimes breaking out in the ecstacy of joy, and exclaiming, " Whom have I in heaven but thee, and there is none on the earth that I desire beside thee !" There too are the expressions of its penitence, weeping at the feet of mercy, sorrowing for the past, cover- ing its face, and in prostration of soul before the offended majesty of heaven, uttering its pur- poses of new obedience. There are the actings of its confidence, the simplicity of its trust in God, as w^ell as the frequent renewal of that endearing and joyful submission to the divine claims which was the turning point in the sin- ner's progress from darkness to light. There GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON PRAYER. 13 too are the more abundant utterances of his gratitude. A thankful acknowledgment of God's mercies forms no small part of prayer. No man has received so few mercies, that he has nothing to thank his Maker for when he ap- proaches his throne in acts of worship. A sin- ner has reason for songs of praise as long as he is out of hell. Not returning thanks to God, is one great reason why our prayers are not more frequently answered. Christians sometimes pray as though they had nothing to do but mourn. Ministers sometimes appear before God as the mouth of his church, as if she was in a state of condemnation. This is unwarranted, and char- acterizes a spirit of bondage. " Be careful for nothing," says the Apostle, "but in every- thing, by prayer, and supplication, with thanks- giving, let your requests be made known unto God." We w^ould not offend against the gen- eration of God's children, much less would we depreciate the sighs of a broken, contrite heart, when we say, that grief and mourning are not the only emotions which become the mercy seat. There is no fear of our ever being too penitent and humble. " The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart he will not despise." The prayer of the publi- can when he stood afar off and smote upon his breast, and said " God be merciful to me a sin- 14 THE MERCY SEAT. ner," is a strong rebuke to the spirit of self- rigliteousness and Pharisaic self-complacency in prayer. There are seasons when the heart is so burdened with a sense of sin, that it can do little else than mourn. But, while these things are true, and important truths, we are not to forget, that " the fruit of the spirit is love, peace and joy/' There may be self-righteous tears, as well as hopes of self-righteousness. It is not unfitting in a sinner to call upon God " with joyful lips." The meek and subdued cheerful- ness, the holy joy of piety, greatly honor the God of our salvation. If I mistake not, those are the most acceptable offerings, and those the most profitable seasons of prayer, and the most invigorating for duty and trial, when the soul most rejoices in God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Prayer is an humble, but not a servile spirit. There is more cheerful thanksgiving in the heart of a praying man, than in all the men of the world put together. '' I will bless the Lord," says the Psalmist, '' at all times ; his praise shall be continually in my mouth. My soul shall make her boast in the Lord ; the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad. O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together !" Prayer is a very different thing from say- g|:neral observations on prayer. 16 mg a prayer. As the language of desire, it is marked by great tenderness, great sincerity, and great simplicity. God who searches the heart has said, that he acknowledges not the worship of the lips. One great reason why the divine presence is so little felt in our devotional exercises is, that our hearts are not in our prayers. Prayer brings the soul of man into contact with his Maker. How unlike that cold, formal, list- less manner in which both those who pray, and those who concur in this service, often draw nigh to the mercy seat, and practise their mock- eries before God, even in his sanctuary ! The object of prayer is the living God. Nor let this be deemed too common-place a thought; would that it had a place more common in the mind of every worshipper. There is no truth the Scriptures teach more frequently than that God is the onli/ object of religious worship. To no mere creature on earth, or in heaven, may men bend the knee in prayer. " Thou shalt have no other gods before me." It is written, " Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve." The Bible knows nothing of the idolatries of that anti-Christian system of worship, which justifies the use of images, and prayers offered to saints and angels. Notwithstanding the frivolous distinctions in- sisted on by the advocates of this system, as to 16 THE MERCY SEAT. the different kinds and degrees of religious hom- age thus paid to creatures, the minds of the great mass of the people are unaffected by these re- finements. The practical influence of such wor- ship is a positive encroachment on the honors of the Supreme Being, who is a jealous God, and wdll not give his glory to another. It is difficult to see how any mind, however constituted, can preserve the simplicity of its devotion and de- pendence unimpaired, amidst these external symbols and multiplied objects of adoration. Such is not the worship of the only living and true God. Of ail this bowing at the shrines of departed saints, this reverence of the conse- crated wafer, and this adoration of the host, these votive offerings, and fervent, solemn invo- cations addressed to the Virgin, this entire ma- chinery of the crucifix, the statues, the paint- ings, and all the apparatus by which theatrical effect is produced, and the imagination and senses captivated and enslaved, w^e may well say, " What meaneth this device ?" The voice of God demands of all such idolaters, '' Who hath required this at your hands V Prayer is an act of worship. " Hearken unto the voice of my cry, my King and my God ; for unto thee will I pray." God only is omnipresent to see the worshippers, and to hear their worship. "The eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON PRAYER. 17 and his ear is open to their cry." He only can accept and answer their prayers. " The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him; that call upon him in truth. He will fulfil the desire of them that fear him ; he will also hear their cry, and will save them." But if God is the only object of prayer, wiiat is the w^ay of access to him ? Is it through men ? or through the ministration of angels ? or by martyred saints ? or by our own merit and righteousness ? These inquiries suggest solemn and affecting thoughts. The character of the suppliants is sufficiently humbling; the Being they address ineffably great and exalted. It is a most wonderful fact that ab- ject man, man that is "fallen by his iniquity," should have intercourse with the high and holy One. On the lips of a sinning creature, that fear- ful name, the Lord thy God, is a name of solemn import. O weigh the vast meaning of these words ! Well may a holy fear take possession of the heart, and awe it into reverence as it approaches the King Eternal, Immortal, and Invisible. His greatness know^s no bounds ; his perfections are infinite ; his spirituality is unmingled and pure ; his existence has no beginning and will have no end. He is all-seeing, yet unseen; the most distant^ yet the most near; comprehending all, and comprehended by none ; containing all. Ig THE MERCY SEAT. while nothing contains him. There is nothing but he controls by his power; nothing but what lives and moves within the compass of his im- mensity. Spotless cherubim, when they wor- ship him, cover their faces with their wings, and " say one to another. Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts, the whole earth is full of his glory !" " The wicked shall not stand in his sight, he hateth all the workers of iniquity.'^ The nearer the sinful and polluted come to him, the nearer do they come to " a consuming fire." To the perverse, rebellious, and guilty children of an apostate race, his throne might well be overshadowed with clouds and darkness, and made repulsive and inaccessible. The glory of man is fallen ; he is sunk in the dust ; he has no wings to soar to the high privilege of com- muning' with a holy God. Yet even man, fallen, aspires after this ; his desires, corrupted as they are, have a sort of inbred tendency toward something above and beyond this narrow world. He is not satisfied without God ; nor can he ever be happy, until he returns to the bosom of his aggrieved and forsaken Father. x4nd, wondrous fact, men thus polluted and vile, instead of cringing as slaves before his throne under the terrifying expres- sions of his omnipotent justice, are drawn to it as sons, and by the attractions of his love. GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON PRAYER. 19 There is " a new and living way into the holiest of all by the blood of Jesus Christ." Access to God as the hearer of prayer is the effect only of that great work of redeeming mercy in which the second person of the ever-blessed and ador- able Trinity came to seek and save those which were lost, and advance them to the privileges of children. We have nothing of our own to plead ; yet in his name may our prayer go up as incense, and the lifting up of our hands as an acceptable sacrifice. Humbling and prostrating as the consideration is, we have not a rag of righteousness left us, in which we may appear before the throne. The worthiness is not in us. Christ's name, Christ's sacrifice, Christ's right- eousness, Christ's work, Christ's entire media- tion as the atoning, interceding High Priest, form the centre and channel of all God's com- munications with apostate men, and the medium of their access to God. ''For through him we have access by one Spirit unto the Father." It is not possible for a sinner to find any other way of access. In the religion of a sinner, the medi- ation of the Son of God is the great elementary principle. Natural religion is of no use to him, and only leads to the neglect of that which is revealed. Natural religion is only for beings that are sinless. As sinners, we can have noth- ing to do with God, except through Christ. We 20 THE MERCY SEAT. have freedom of access only in that way which he has consecrated by his blood. We have no other. " I," saith he, " am the way, and the truth, and the life ; no man cometh unto the Father hut hy me'' He is the altar whence the hallowed incense arises which is expressive of the purity and ardor of a true devotion. We have " an altar," says the Apostle, " whereof they have no right to eat which serve at the tabernacle :" an altar that abolishes all other altars ; a sacrifice that abolishes all other sacri- fices ; a name that is above every name. " The altar sanctifies the gift." And well it may sanctify it. It was erected not by the hands of men; the invisible God erected it on holy ground, in the centre of this perishing world. There, " without the gate" of the Holy City, where God laid on him the iniquity of us all, and the fires of eternal justice consumed the priest, the altar, and the sacrifice, that way to the mercy seat was opened, without which all amicable intercourse between heaven and earth had been forever suspended. We dwell on the thought, that prayer is of- fered in the name of Christ, because, obvious as it is, it is both in theory and in practice a very important thought. Men have no more access to God than the devils have, save in this "new way which he hath consecrated through the veil, GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON PRAYER. 21 that is to say, his flesh." It is no small matter for a man whose conscience is burdened by a sense of guilt, to find access. He who has never experienced this embarrassment, has yet to learn that he is a sinner. We may be al- most certain, that if our prayers are put up in the name of Christ, and not answered, there is soniething wrong about them ; and we may be quite certain there is everything wrong about them, if they are not offered in the name of Christ. The promise is absolute, '' Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it you." Yet to pray in the name of Christ, is not simply to use the words. There is no spirit- ual spell in the mere words. They cannot charm away guilt, nor charm answers to our supplications. To pray in the name of Christ, comprises a heart-felt acknowledgment of him as the only appointed and accepted way to the throne. The mere intellectual perception of this truth, is not enough. It must be believed and felt ; with all its humbling, encouraging im- port, it must be received into the heart. The soul must have an immediate and direct refer- ence to it in all her prayers; it must be confided in, and carried into the chamber of audience. Prayer has power and influence. The spirit of prayer and the blessing of God have ever stood abreast, and gone hand in hand in his govern- 22 THE MERCY SEAT. ment of the world. " For all these things I will be inquired of by the house of Israel," says he, " to do it for them." A prayerless man is an unblest man ; a prayerless Church is languid, inert, and unblest. Those portions of God's heritage w-hich have been most distinguished for the spirit of prayer, have know^n most of the power and presence of God, and been most dis- tinguished for the effusions of his Spirit. When- ever he is about to do great things for his peo- ple, he rouses them from their lukewarmness, and stirs them up to prayer. There is no surer criterion by which to judge if God is about to do great things for them, than an unusual spirit of prayer. It was so in the days of the Old Testament dispensation, and it is so under the New. It w^as so on the day of Pentecost, and it will be so when the scattered families of that same people are gathered in. " I will pour out upon them," says God, ''the spirit of grace and supplication, and they shall look on him whom they have pierced, and mourn." He " hath not said to the seed of Jacob, Seek ye my face, in vain." O thou that hearest prayer, is one of the usual appellations by which he is addressed in the Holy Scriptures. This is one of the names by w^iich he is known, and this is his memorial to all generations. No small part of the Scriptural history is em* GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON PRAYER. 23 ployed in recounting the achievements of prayer. A selection of the prayers recorded in the Scrip- tures, with a detailed account of the manner in which they were answered, would form an in- structive and edifying volume to the people of God. He has pledged his faithfulness as the hearer of prayer, both to his Son and to his peo- ple ; and facts there recorded show, and facts hereafter to be recorded will show also, that he is not a man that he should lie, nor the son of man that he should repent. There is perhaps no more impressive proof of the power of prayer than the fact that God represents himself as embar- rassed by the prayers of his people when he is about to make bare his arm in judgment against his enemies. " Let me alone," said He to Moses, " that I may destroy this people." " I do not say that he shall pray for it," is a limitation con- fined to the unpardonable sin. It is indeed a marvellous truth, which God himself has re- vealed, that " the effectual fervent prayer of the righteous man availeth much." The men of prayer look for answers to their supplications, and they are warranted in so doing. One of the differences between the prayers of Christians and the prayers of other men, is that the latter pray without minding the answers, while the former wait for an answer, and in substance if not in form, and in God's own time, they get it. 24 THE MERCY SEAT. Prayer, therefore, is an unspeakable privilege. For a creature, like fallen man, to be allowed to draw nigh to the Holy God, and express all the desires of his heart, in the name, and plead the full merits of Him in whom the Eternal Father is well pleased, is indeed the privilege of sons. Abject man, man that is fallen by his iniquity, enjoys this privilege. The hour of prayer is the appointed hour of this communion. Here the Father of mercies meets his offending creature with the smile of reconciliation ; and here the creature, with a heart sprinkled from an evil conscience, meets his offended, but gra- cious and reconciled Father. There are few declarations in the Bible, which, in the entire range of their instructions, are more richly fraught w^ith the consolation which a sinner needs, than the declaration made by God to Moses, when he said, " And thou shalt make the mercy seat above upon the ark ; and in the ark shalt put the testimony that I shall give thee. And there will 1 meet thee, and I will commune with thee from above the mercy seat J" It is the communion of the created, with the uncreated mind ; a creature of yesterday holding converse with him who is from everlasting ; a creature who knows nothing, in intimate and unembar- rassed intercourse with him who knows all things ; one, who for his abjectness is as a worm. GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON PRAYER. 25 and who for his sinfulness might make sackcloth his covering, tranquil and comforted in the pres- ence of that holy Lord God, Nor is there any longer any one appointed place of prayer. '' In all places where I record my name," says He, " I will come unto thee, and I will bless thee." Territorial divisions, secular and ecclesiastical demarcations, earthly distinctions, are all banished here. It is God's communion with the king and the beggar, with those who are near on the land, and those who are afar off upon the sea. True piety is the same thing everywhere, because God is every- where the same object of worship, and the same hearer of prayer. To diiferent climes, and all the different classes of men, to men of the vari- ous habits of thought, to men of manual toil and men of intellectual study, to the cool and tranquil philosopher, the patient historian, and the imaginative and ardent poet, the throne of grace brings substantially the same consolations, and calls forth the same warm emotions of grate- ful and adoring love, melting penitence, and im- plicit faith. The duty of prayer is itself a delightful duty. It ordinarily presents the most lovely assemblage of those spiritual graces, and those intellectual perceptions and moral qualities of soul, in which true religion has been universally 26 THE MERCY SEAT. found to exist. There is no sweeter assemblage of gracious affections ever presented to that all- seeing eye which looketh on the heart, and of which the renewed nature of man is conscious. And for this reason it presents the most lovely and most enviable assemblage of spiritual joys. If there is true blessedness anywhere, it is in the indulgence of such affections. They give pleasure to the mind; they are happy feelings so long as they exist, and afford the purest, the highest satisfaction of which sinful man is capa- ble. There is additional joy, too, in the discov- ery of them; for though all may not be alike conscious of them, nor the same persons equally conscious at all times, there is a discovery of them at the throne of grace which is ordinarily made only there. If there are good men who do not always enj.oy the delightful conviction of their own gracious state in prayer, there are none who do not sometimes there enjoy it. No man should depreciate it because he cannot come so near the throne as Abraham came; or be- cause he cannot converse vvith God face to face, as Moses did; or because he cannot, like John, lean on the bosom of his Divine X-orci ; or because he may not, like Paul, be caught up .*nto the third heavens. It is pvooi of the reality of his faith, if he mav there but lament its weak- GENERAL OBSERVx\TIONS ON PRAYER. 27 ness. And if it is Cieiightful to feel gracious af- fections at the tiirone of heaven's mercy; if it is delightful to be conscious of them; still more delightful is it to express them. It were bond- age and misery to express them unfelt ; but to feel and express them, to be conscious of them and offer them to God, to make the offering in the name and on the merits of the Great Aton- ing High Priest, poor and humble as the offering is, it is itself adapted to gratify and invigorate these affections themselves, to increase and ac- cumulate them. It is thus they become the con- secrated conductors of spiritual blessings from God's high throne to many an otherwise de- pressed and mourning spirit on this low earth. Secrets may be committed to God that cannot be committed to another. It is relief which the world knows not of, if but to spread before Him the secret wants of the soul ; to tell them one by one ; to tell them all. The conscience, wounded by a sense of sin, finds healing there. Want there finds supply; distrust finds confi- dence, and depression praise. Ignorance is en- lightened there ; poverty is enriched, and weak- ness becomes strong. Darkness is there dissi- pated, and trembling hopes encouraged. The bruised reed is not broken there, nor is the smoking fiax quenched. Grace there cherishes what it bestows, and completes what it begins. 28 THE MERCY SEAT. Spiritual enemies are there disarmed, or if not disarmed, there is the armor for renewed and successful conflict. Not like angels' visits, that are few and far between, the promises there habitually visit and refresh the soul, cheer its gloom, and comfort it when it is weary. There are no broken cisterns at the mercy seat ; it is all a fountain of living water, where streams fiow from it, without which this earth were a desert. They who are most engaged in the duty of prayer, have tasted most of its consolations. In the hour of trouble especially, it brings the soul near to the only source of comfort. That man is truly wretched, who, when earthly enjoyments fail, has no other to which he can resort; while he who can come to the footstool of God's mercy is never wretch- ed. It is no barren land, but one where the heavens are opened, and waters are poured upon him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground. It is no place of storms and tempest; but a hiding from the vStorm, and from the tem- pest a safe covering. The region is pure, be- cause it is elevated ; it is quiet and serene, where faith, soaring in its flight, looks down upon earth and upward toward heaven. It is the sanctuary of God and where angels dwell. It is the rest of the soul. Ten thousand times ten thousand tongues, in approaching it, have given GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON PRAYER. 29 utterance to the thought, " Return to thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee !" Like the disciples on the Mount of Trans- figuration, they have often exclaimed, " Lord, it is good to be here !" If. the reader is living in the neglect of prayer, he knows not his loss — he knows not his danger. Many a man w hose bosom is not a stranger to hope in God's mercy, can say. But for this one privilege, I should long ago have perished, and gone down to the sides of the pit! Men know not the power of the vsin that dwell- eth in them who neglect to pray. Be admon- ished, O ye thoughtless ones, who " restrain prayer before God !'' " Their Rock is not as our Rock ; even our enemies themselves being judges." Men may have resources that are out of God ; -but they lean upon the same broken reeds which have pierced others through with many sorrows. Everytliing else will deceive you ; they are " lying vanities, and cannot profit." They are snares, and accomplish noth- ing more certainly than entice the soul away from God, and deceive it to its undoing. Be ye admonis.hed also, w^ho are careless and remiss in the exercise of prayer. However dis- satisfied you may be with yourselves in this ex- ercise, and however little you may have of the gift of prayer, " be faithful in that which is 30 THE MERCY SEAT. least." However little comfort you have in it, without it you will be left to a far more melan- choly abandonment. Though your prayers may seem not to be answered, it is no proof that they are not answered, because it is not in the time and way you prescribe. The old En- emy tempts you when you little think that he is tempting you ; and God is teaching you, when you yourself are not always conscious of his teaching. Prayer is the proper business of a man who is a sinner. He will never know how to live, nor how to die, if he is not a man of prayer. God giveth liberally; he giveth without upbraiding. He is as free to give the best gifts, as the meanest; and to the most needy, as to the least needy. He has no par- don for the sinless, no wisdom for the wise, no courage for the resolute, no strength for the strong, no hope for the presumptuous. " To this man," says he, " will I look, even to him that is of a poor and contrite spirit, and that tremblethat my word." " This poor man cried, and the Lord heard, and saved him out of all his troubles." " When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst ; I the Lord will hear them, 7 the God of Israel will not forsake them." CHAPTER II. THE INSTRUCTIONS OP THE BIBLE AS TO THE MATTER AND MANNER OP PRAYER. The incident is an interesting, and even a most beautiful one, which led the disciples of Christ to request him to " teach them to pray." He himself had been praying ; there was a sim- plicity, a propriety, a comprehensiveness, a fer- vor and spirituality in his prayer, that so in- structed and affected them, that they desired to sit at his feet, if it were but to learn how to pray. " And it came to pass, that as he was praying in a certain place, when he ceased, one of his disciples said unto him, Lord, teach us how to pray, as John also taught his disciples." Every Christian has an interest in knowing how the Saviour would pray. The best of men need direction in prayer. Who may not adopt the language, " Teach us what we shall say unto him : for we cannot order our speech by reason of darkness ?" How then shall we be instructed in the mat- 32 THE MERCY SEAT. ter and manner of prayer ? how shall an igno- rant and guilty creature learn to address him- self to the great Creator, who is God over all, blessed forever ? The Bible is a sufficient rule of conduct in all things pertaining to life and godliness. The subject matter for prayer is to be found in the word of God. There is not one of its doctrines, in all their richness and va- riety, that does not contain truths which the lips of prayer may make use of, and turn to good account at the throne of grace. What God is, what he has done, and what he has purposed and is disposed to do ; w^iat we are, and what we need, are not less guides in prayer, than they are principles of truth. '' He that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is the rewarder of them that diligently seek him." His love to the world in giving his Son to die, the condescension of his Son in laying down his life as a sacrifice for sin, and the work of the Holy Spirit in applying the truths of the gospel to the soul, furnish not only the appropri- ate, but the indispensable aliment to the spirit of supplication. " Hov*^ shall they call on him in whom they have not believed V^ The point is too plain to require either illustration, or proof, that the mind must be fmriished with the truth of God, in order to be furnished with matter for prayer. Nor need we any more painful convic- THE MATTER AND MANNER OF PRAYER. 33 tion of this, than the absolute sterility and barrenness of thought, and worse than chilling coldness of those prayers, which it may have been our unhappiness to listen to from men who deny the essential truths of Christianity. Soc- rates, or Seneca, dwelling on the barren truths of Natural Religion, w^ould have offered a richer prayer to the "Unknown God," than I have heard from the hesitating and embarrassed lips of an unchristian ministry. The precepts of the Bible also teach us how to pray. They describe the spirit of prayer ; while they teach us what graces to ask for, and for what duties we need strength. The promises of the Bible are revealed for our instruction and encouragement in prayer. They teach us what blessings God is willing to bestow, and how willing he is to bestow them. They are *' exceedingly great and precious ;" they are wonderfully various, adapted to all cases of want, and all the varieties of Christian experience. They are promises for health, strength, food and raiment ] they are promises of peace, safety, success, courage, comfort. They are adapted to seasons of temptation, sickness, poverty, persecution, calumny, dark- ness, and fear. They are promises of light, of regeneration, of repentance, of faith, of peace, of joy, and of the indwelling witness of the 2* 34 THE MERCY SEAT. Holy Spirit. They are promises of obedience, of perseverance in holiness, of the coming of God's Kingdom on the earth, of calmness and hope in death, and of eternal glory. Nor is there one of them that does not give a fresh im- pulse to the soul that wrestles at the throne, and that may not be used as an argument in prayer. The threatenings of the Bible teach us what we have reason to fear and deprecate ; while the very si7is that are there recorded teach wdiat we should pray against and deplore. " All these things," says the Apostle, '' happened unto them for ensamples ; and they were written for our admonition upon Avhom the ends of the world are come." God has also recorded a multitude o{ facts in his word, that are comments upon its truths, its promises, and its threatenings, of which he condescends to permit his people to remind him, and which furnish them with powerful consid- erations in pleading at his mercy seat. They are facts which belong to the history of his deal- ings both with good and bad men, with nations and individuals, with the church and the world. There are instances of 'prayer, too, there re- corded, which show us its spirit, its comprehen- siveness, its appropriateness to times, and places, and circumstance and men, as well as its fruit THE MATTER AND MANNER OF PRAYER. 35 and power ; and which show us for what it is to be offered, and God's readiness to hear and answer. The Bible tells of Moses, of Ellas, of Daniel, of Job, who ''set their face to seek the Lord God by prayer and supplication." God has there recorded also a great variety of the experience of his people, and of his own conduct toward them, and of their supplications under the dealings of his hand. Of all the books in the Bible, the book of Psalms is the one which is fitted to teach men how to pray, and how they do pray when influenced by his Spirit. In this book the Spirit of God has delineated his own operations on the hearts of his people. The book, generally, is nothing more nor less than a diagram of a good man's heart — "the inside section of a believer's soul." More than this; the Bible teaches us where to go for assistance iii prayer, " For through him, we have access by 07ie spirit unto the Fa- ther." In every act of true devotion, there is a concurrence of the Spirit's influence. No man is wise enough or holy enough, or sufliiciently acquainted with his own wants, or with the mind and will of God to pray as he ought to' pray, unless directed and assisted by the Spirit of God. With the most guikless sincer- ity, Apostles themselves acknowledge, " Fof e find the same phrase frequently u^ed in a diirereni sense. Paul says, " For who hath resisted his will;'' '' Who w^orketh all things after tlie counsel of his own loilir The Saviour says, in view of the cross, "• Not my will, but thine be done V And John says, "If we ask 156 THE MERCY SEAT. anything according to his will, he heareth us/^ In these last mentioned passages, the phrase signifies not the iaws and commands of God, but the divine purpose or decree. These two are very different things. The di- vine purpose extends to the irrational and ma- terial, as well as to the rational and spiritual creation ; the divine law extends only to that which is spiritual and rational. The divine pur- pose includes all that God means should take place ; the divine law^ only that which he re- quires and forbids. The divine purpose ex- presses no authority, and no moral obligation, and is, therefore, never a rule of action ; the divine law expresses both, and is a rule cf ac- tion to all to whom it is revealed. The divine purpose has respect to events, and is concerned with the consequences of human conduct, while the divine law respects the conduct of intelli- gent agents as such, and has nothing to do with its events and consequences. That it is the perceptive will of God to which this prayer refers, cannot admit of a question. An object obtained, cannot be the object of pe- tition. This request cannot relate to God's pur- pose, because his purpose is accomplished as well on the earth as it is in heaven. " His counsel shall stand, and he will do all his pleasure." But it is not so with his law. His perceptive will is THE WILL OF GOD PERFORMED ON EARTH. 157 accounted as a strange thing; it is transgressed, abused, and vilified ; and however venerated in higher and purer worlds, is despised and tram- pled on, on earth. It is this great moral code, therefore, to which this prayer refers, and the precepts and prohibitions of which w^e are taught to pray, may be as sacredly regarded on earth, as they are in heaven. How then is the ivill of God done in heaven 1 The answer to this inquiry is the key to this re- quest. Heaven is a section of the divine em- pire, and as really under the binding force of the moral law, as any other part of God's dominions. The same God exists and governs there, that exists and governs here. Essentially the same moral relations, and the same laws founded on those relations, exist there, which exist in this lower world. And these obligations are not only acknowledged and felt, but obeyed there, as in no other world. The will of God is there done in all its parts. All the obligations of the law are there fulfilled; every precept and every prohibition is regarded with reverence and love. Where God's com- mand is known, the thing commanded, what- ever it be, is done. There is no government there but the government of the divine will. All those affections of mind which are due from creatures to their Creator, from subjects to their 158 THE MERCY SEAT. supreme Lord, from pensioners upon the divine bounty to the first and the greatest of all givers, and from redeemed sinners to their all-sufficient and gracious Redeemer, are there enkindled and sustained. All that is elevating in compla- cency and confidence in the divine character ; all that is amiable and lovely in that lowliness and sweetness of mind, that are the fruits of the divine Spirit ; all that is peaceful in resignation, joyous in gratitude, and adoring in praise, is there mingled and blended in the beauties of holiness. There are no rival deities there, and no idol* atry to subvert the throne of the Most High. There is no profanity or irreverence ; but every expression of filial fear. There is no violation of the Sabbath ; that glorious world is one vast temple, and its revolving ages one everlasting day of holy rest. There is no form, or modifica- tion of holy affection toward God, w^hich does not there exist, and is not acted out. Nor are there any violations there of the great law of love to fellow intelligences. There are no infringements upon the claims of social piety ; no mutual relations inverted ; no ties torn asunder ; no principles of subordination destroyed; no envious, or cold, unfeeling heart. There is no murderous hand, or malignant in- tention; no furious and revengeful passion ; no THE WILL OP GOD PERFORMED ON EARTH. 159 harshness or cruelty; no unkindness, or even inattention and negligence. There are no re- volting scenes of impurity, no liaunts of licen- tiousness, and no lascivious eye. There are no locks, nor bars, nor prisons, nor courts of justice, nor pilfering, nor plunder, nor any species, or suspicion of fraud. There is no lying tongue, or covetous desire. Truth, that strong bond of society, that firm foundation of confidence and intercourse, remains inviolate ; while all those inordinate desires after earthly objects and en- joyments, which so disturb the tranquillity and repose of earth, are subdued and extinguished by the charity that seeketh not her own. Heaven presents the purest, noblest, loveliest character, because it is implicitly subject to the will of God. It asks for no reason of its con- duct but God's will. And therefore its obedi- ence is perfect in all its departments. It has no blemishes ; no cloud in its hemisphere ; no shadow in its horizon ; no spot on its disk ; no waxing and waning light ; but a steady, pure, and full-orbed splendor. The will of God is there obeyed also by all its inhabitants. In that immense family, there are diversities of rank, different orders of intel- ligence, and various measures of moral rectitude, as " one star differeth from another star in glory." There are the angels who never fell, with all 160 THE MERCY SEAT. their different degrees of excellence. There are the unnumbered millions redeemed from among men, from all the climes and languages of earth, from the little infant to the tried piety of hoary years, and from the thief on the cross to the aged and martyred Paul. But with all this varied extent and degree of excellence, and all this differing splendor, the same spirit pervades the whole ; all possess the same ele- ments of excellence. There is no jar in their society, and no discord in their song. Within the vast compass of this immense population, throughout all these unexplored regions, amid the whole of this vast assemblage of existen- ces, from the highest to the lowest, there is not a bosom that does not glow with holy ardor to do the will of God, One sinning mind would poison these sources of joy. There is no law- less planet there ; no unsubjugated province ; no land of darkness ; no pagan island ; no hab- itation of cruelty — not a dwelling of wicked- ness, nor even a revolting heart. In heaven the will of God is also done with sincerity and cheerfulness. There is no hypocrisy there ; no formal sacrifice is offered on that al- tar. The outward conduct is there governed by first governing the willing and warm affec- tions. Obedience is not a yoke at which pure and sinless spirits reluctate, but in every view THE WILL OF GOD PERFORMED ON EARTH. 1^1 a pleasant, agreeable, delightful service. Th :;re is no pensiveness, no depression, no gloom, in that blessed society, but all that is buoyant and cheer- ful. It is not the abstract sense of duty, the heavy bond of obligation, the solemn and fearful sanction of law, and the cold and cheerless im- pression of necessity merely, that constrains tlieir acquiescence. It is the sweeter, stronger c<^rd of love, irresistibly fascinating them with its charms, and drawing their willing, gratified minds as " with the bands of a man." In this low world, true religion is an exotic ; an unnatural and un- indigenous plant, confined and stinted in its growth, and sometimes a meagre, dwarfish, and ungainly thing. It partakes of the cold soil and cheerlessness of this low earth; never arrives at maturity, and sometimes blooms to fade. But what pencil can paint, or what poetry describe its beauty and fragrance, when transplanted to the skies ? No longer some depressed and drooping floweret, it is like Sharon's rose, unfold- ing its leaves on its native bed. No longer weak and sickly, it is like a vigorous, heatthy scion from the Tree of Life, fair and luxuriant, fragrant witli blossoms, and yielding its fruit every month. It is the joy, I had almost said it is the 7nirth of heaven to obey the statutes of its King. Obe- dience is an employment which nourishes, and draws toward it all their ardor and sensibility. t62 THE MERCY SEAT. The perception, the reason, the judgment, the memory, are all joyfully employed in such a service. Even the imagination, that ungoverned and wandering faculty, which here on the earth is so often the sport of temptation, and the play- thing of the arch Deceiver, there exerts its magic and hallowed influence, ever supplying the materials of some ne-w^ service, some new purpose of devotement, some new scene of still more gratified holiness and exquisite joy. Their obedience is indeed the obedience of thought, and deliberate purpose ; but it is also the obedience of love. It has the wdngs of emotion and desire. Love is the element in which pure spirits breathe. Love is the soul of heaven — strong and urgent, " swift to do his will, barkening to the voice of his w^ord." In heaven, the will of God is likewise done 'per- fectly, and forever . Its holy inhabitants are like Him, because they see him as he is. Everything there is so full of God ; creation, providence, and redemption, are there displaying forth such per- petual exhibitions of the divine nature, that they cannot but be discerned and enjoyed; and because discerned and enjoyed, transform the soul into their own likeness. The flow of holy affections is there constant and resistless, and " clear as crystal ;" and their strength and vigor remain forever unabated. There are no seasons THE WILL OF GOD PERFORMED ON EARTH. 163 of languor and declension, and no apostasy and backsliding. No wandering thought, no Aain desire, no unperfected emotion, there creeps into the soul. There is no backwardness, no unfruit- fulness, but all the activity and fervor which the soul is capable ot exercising. There is no wea- riness, nor satiety. Ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, cease not, day nor night, from their active service, or their anthems of praise. There, the soul eagerly cleaves to, affectionately admires, and constantly rests on God. Its thoughts and desires are con- centrated ill this single object; pleased and satisfied with God as its portion, " acting from him as its Author, for him as its Master, and to him as its End." Eternity rolls on ; and he that is holy, is holy still. Thus is the will of God done in heaven, in all its parts, by every individual, sincerely and cheerfully, perfectly and forever. And is there not a reason for the prayer that it should be thus done on earth ? For this Christ has taught his disciples, in every age of the world, to pray, *' thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven,^'' Why ought we to pray thus ? Let us give an answer to this inquiry. It is not out of place to submit the remark, that the law of God is no less binding on the earth than it is in heaven. Its obligations are real, throughout 164 THE MERCY SEAT. the whole rans^e of God's dominions. Wherever intelligent beiflgs exist, they are bound by it. If angels are bound by it, so are men; and if one world of intelligent agents is bound by it, so are all worlds. There is no more excuse for violat- ing it on earth, than for violating it in heaven. Nothing can dissolve, suspend, or at all impair the obligations of men to do the will of God, as uni- versally, sincerely, fully, and perfectly, as it is done in heaven. As it alters not the nature of transgression, that it is commitied in secret, or in the light of day, at home or abroad, in the eastern or western hemisphere of this terra- queous globe; so it alters not its nature, that it were committed in the terrestrial, rather than the celestial sphere. The binding force of thv. divine law depends on the nature of the Law- giver, and on the relations which exist between Him and his subjects ; and not until these are destroyed, or altered, can there be any change in the law. This is the only true doctrine of moral obligation. The will of the superior binds the inferior everywhere. And much reason have we to pray that this rebellious world may recognize, both in theory and in practice, the principle that there is no virtue, but in obedi- ence to the will of God. But this is not all. While every man should obey the law of God, merely because it is law^ THE WILL OF GOD PERFORMED ON EARTH. 165 and an expression of his will, it is a right rule to which he is subject. It is as reasonable that the will of God be done on earth, as that it should be done in heaven. Though its reasonableness does not augment his obligations to obedience, yet is it one of the motives for it. All the considera- tions which show the reasonableness of doing God's will in heaven, also show that it is reason- able it should be done on earth. Wickedness is unreasonable, always and everywhere ; nor is there anything so reasonable, so beautiful, so lovely, in the universe, as obedience to God. Whatever is right, the will of God requires ; it forbids nothing but wickedness. It is impossi- ble that too much rectitude be required of any order of intelligences, nor can they be governed by a law that is too holy. The inhabitants of earth are no more dependent for holiness, than are the inhabitants of heaven ; and if they vx^re, we have not now to learn, that the dependence of men does not render it less reasonable that they should do what is right. Why is it \\A reasonable that the will of God should be done on earth, as it is in heaven ? Is it reasonable for those immortal princes to obey their sove- reign, and is it unreasonable for man ? Shall those bright partakers of the divine glory, thjse favored attendants at the heavenly court, con- sent to the law that is good ; and shall men, ab- 166 THE MERCY SEAT. ject and fallen, contend with their Maker, and complain that his ways are not equal ? Obedience to God's will vjoiild produce a high degree of happiness in the earth, as well as in heaven. The foundation on which the happiness of think- ing beings rests, is their obedience to the divine will. Individually and relatively, as parts and as a w hole, this earth would be supremely happy, did it possess the character of heaven. We know^ the happy effects even of the very imper- fect holiness which good men possess in the present life. Where that moral transformation which results in the sinless purity of the heav- enly world is but begun, what new affections and hopes, what divine peace and joy are im- jMirted to the soul ! When first the heart is dis- solved with the mild influences of the Spirit of grace, and imbued with the love of God and man, what sweet repose possesses it ! Its strug- gles for a while seem to be over ; the alarms of conscience are still. And not until the w^ork- J! gs of iniquity revive, are this tranquillity and joy disturbed. And when in his progressive tivreer of sanctification the regenerated man be- comes more holy, and the power of indwelling corruption is broken and prostrate, how does his lij^ht break forth as the morning, and his joys become like the spring-tide, when it overflows its banks! Witness the blessedness of David THE WILL OF GOD PERFORMED ON EARTH. If/ and Paul, and others in later days, when their transported spirits could not utter their ecstacy, because clogged and fettered in this prison- house of clay. Even this were a prelibation of heaven. Extended over all the habitations of men, it would nnake this earth an exquisitely happy world. How^ pure and transporting the joy, if, instead of this, the will of God w^ere obeyed on earth as it is in heaven ! Over all the regions of the globe would every pulse beat, every heart throb, and every tongue respond to the claims of holy love. Disorder and tumult would be unknown, the oppressor's rod would be broken, and injustice and war would no more ravage the habitations of men. Individual quietude and social joy Avould change the face of every land ; and nothing would be seen but spectacles of loveliness and beauty, while every- Avhere would be heard the voice of thanksgiving and praise. How serene and clear the light that w^ould then be diffused over the creation ! How rapturous the glow of every heart ! llovv thrilling every song ! What a picture of the bosom of angels! Like what a " sea of glass" would the minds of men become, everywhere placid and unruffled, and without a ripple o its surface ! What a world were this, when God shall thus create Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her people a joy ! and when, compared with this 168 THE MERCY SEAT. new, spiritual creation, the first heavens and earth shall not be remembered, nor come into mind! Still further: God would he as truly honored and glorified by the obedience of earth, as he isby the obedience of heaven. He is eminently exalted by the sinless perfe-ction of the heavenly world. Every tongue there speaks well of God; every mind sees him as he is ; every object reflects bis glory; every heart loves and exalts him; and the only emulation is to ascribe the high- est honors to his name. There is no other way of honoring and ex?? king God, but by doing his Tvill. When the s.* me spirit glows in the bosom of men, as in the Losom of angels, the same hon- ors will be paid him from the altars of this world that now ascend from the heavenly sanctuary. Anticipate this delightful spectacle. Behold the«c creatures of God, in all their varieties of habitation and name, and in all the gradations of their intellectual endowment, never varying from tJie standard of rectitude ; failing in no prbcept ; unceasingly devoted to their duty, and from the best spirit ; chargeable with notliing that C4\n be condemned or reproached ; all doi.ig the will of God as it is done in heaven ; and what a field of light, what a sea of glory were presented by such a renovated creation ! No longer would his name be dishonored, who THE WILL OF GOD PKRPORMED ON EARTH. IfiO calls himself our " Father that is in heaven ;" no longer would his government be defamed, his designs impeached and opposed, and his honors taken from him; but everywhere w^ould he ]*e acknowledged as God over all, blessed forever. Princes and subjects, young men and maidens, old men and children, would give him the honor which is his due. His name would be great among the heathen, and in every place, incense and a pure offering* would be offered on his altar. Nor is this all. In some respects, God is even more honored by the obedience of earth, than by the obedience of heaven. The planet on which we (iwcJl is a peculiar world. It has proper- ties and relations altogether peculiar to itself. There are no such expressions of the divine goodness made to any other world, as are made to this. Nowhere does it assume the form of favor to the guilty^ except to men. No\diere else does it flow through the channel of a Sav- iour's blood ; and nowhere else does it cost '-o many efforts of wisdom and power, throughout all the dispensations of a widely extended prov- idence. When men on the earth become holy, they are a peculiar people, and "show forth the praises of him who hath brought them out of darkness into his marvelous light." They differ from all other beings in the universe. They 170 THE MERCY SEAT. sustain a relation to the once atoning and now reigning Saviour, which otlier beings and other worlds do not sustain. Others have gained the heavenly inheritance by their own righteousness; inhabitants of earth are the purchase of the Saviour's blood, and the reward of his obedience unto death. Others have been created and pre- served ; these have been redeemed and sancti- fied. Others are beautiful in themselves ; these are beautiful through the comeliness which he puts upon them, and on that account, have moral perceptions, and emotions, and joys to which others are strangers, and a song in which others can never unite. God is glorified by the obedience of the unfallen ; but their love"* and admiration flow forth in none of the forms pecu- liar to redeemed sinners. We are told, " there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons Vvho need no repentance." And who does not see, that when such a population becomes holy; such rebels become children; such outcasts heirs of God ; there is glory to God in the high- est decree ? When it is seen and known to " principalities and powers in heavenly places," that in defiance of the machinations of the Prince of darkness, and the invincible deprav- ity of man, the kingdom of Chiist and the em- pire of mercy are triumphant ; what honors will THE WILL OF GOD PERFORMED ON EARTH. 171 be recovered to the Great Supreme — in what unequalled beauty will the reflected excellence of his nature cover the earth, as the waters cover the sea — and how will holy ones look down from heaven to say, " The whole earth is full of his glory !" How will the mountains echo it to the valleys, and the valleys roll it b/ick again to the mountains, that " the Lord God omnipotent reigneth !" How will continent proclaim it to continent, and ocean waft it to the main, that " the kingdoms of this worhl are become the kingdoms of our Lord and his Christ !" And what ascriptions of honor. That thunderings of praise, in one mighty concert of the fallen with the unfallen, like the sound of many waters, w^ill pour forth their sublime and unceasing Allelujahs to God and the Lamb ! Such is the import, and such some of the rea- sons for the petition urged in the text. In view of the preceding thoughts, who may not with strong propriety lay his hand upon his mouth ? Mou7'7ifuIhj affecting to every Christian mind, is the present condition of the church and the world, I say of the church, as well as the world ; be- cause even in her fairest and holiest portions, the will of God is so imperfectly done. When we consider how much more holy the people of God might become; how much more happy and exalted ; how much more conspicuous the 172 THE MERCY SEAT. spiritual kingdom of God might be among the r.utions, and how much more subserv^ient to the glory of its great Prince and Saviour; we feel condemned before God and man. If from the church, we look at the world, our '* eye ailecteth our heart." It is a world fallen by Its iniquity, and under the wrath and curse cf God. O how vile, how abject it is! — how dish >nored ! What indifference to God, what practical atheism, what subversion of religion and moral order, what sottish ignorance, what depraved passions and shocking immoralities disGgure the aspect, and mar the form of human society. And when we look beyond the pale of Chris- tian lands, wiiat do we see, but men sunk still deeper in pollution and sin, prostrated in wretch- edness, corrupted and loathsome, and covered with the pall of sin and death. Can this be the world where men have been taught to pray, " Thy will be done on earth, as it is done in heaven ?" How desolate ! How bewildered ! What gloom and terror ! " Dark- ness covers the earth, and gross darkness the people." Three-fourths of the world in which we dwell do not as yet know that they may call God their Father, and approach his throne in the new and living way. Not a ray of light from the cross has ever descended on their path. THE WILL OF GOD PERFORMED ON EARTH. > 173 Over what vast regions does the Prince of dark- ness extend his dominion ! With the exception of a few bright spots, or at best, a few narrow zones, this dark and iron-hearted empire en- wraps the globe. Alas, that such a picture should ever be realized in the world where the Savioui^ died, and where he has left on record such a prayer ! Yet, notwithstanding this, does this very prayer suggest a ground of hope. The Saviour would not have instructed his disciples to pray, as he has here instructed them, had he not de- signed to bring men extensively to the know- ledge and obedience of his truth. He has pre- dicted that '' all the ends of the earth shall remember, and turn unto the Lord, and all the kindreds of the nations shall worship before him." Dark as is the prospect, therefore, the rays which already, like the pale twilight of the morning, pierce the gloom, are destined to shine more and more unto the perfect day. He who Ims taughtus this prayer is "God manifest in the flesh." He is the author of that Gospel which is the wisdom of God, and the power of God to salva- tion, and whose mighty agency, like the Spirit of God moving upon the face of the waters, is destined to give form, order, and beauty to this moral chaos, and create all things anew. Yes, there is hope for the recovery of this apos- 174 THE MERCY SEAT. tate world. Our Emanuel is on the throne ; and his hc'm't of love is bound up in this glorious coni5unimation. From the top of Calvary, these clouds that settle upon the earth are seen pass- ing away. Just as certainly as Jesus died and rose again, " the glory of the Lord shall be re- vealed, and all flesh shall see it together." Whose heart shall not be inspirited with this confidence ? To secure this predicted end, Qod gave his Son to die ; sends his Spirit to dwell with men ; reveals his word ; and lays on his church the responsibility of sending his Gospel to every creature. I blush to ask, how little have we done that the will of God might be performed on earth, as it is in heaven ? How little have we suffered ! and in how few respects have we denied ourselves, that these designs of Heaven's mercy may be accomplished ! Who, then, will not make frequent use oi^ this great petition ? Whether we look to Pagan or to Christian lands, in what tones of solicitude may these blood-bought churches hear the cry. Pray fw us, pray ybr us ! and who will not respond, ''thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven ? There wanders some poor Pagan, who never heard a sermon, nor vSaw a Bible, and knows not that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. He is intelligent and thoughtful, but he is the victim of a dark THE WILL OF GOD PERFORMED ON EARTH. i<5 and dreadful idolatry. His mind is merged in the shades of impenetrable night. Over his prospects for eternity, are collected heavy and dense clouds of unappeased indignation. And even here, where we ourselves dwell, whit darkness covers large portions of the land. Cities, villages, colleges, schools, families, the rich and the poor, old and young, in almost un- told numbers, are strangers to the hopes of the Gospel. Some of them are thoughtless, and some of them are anxious, and struggling for the assurance of a happy immortality. We do not count them, either in Pagan or Christian lands, by hundreds or by thousands, but by millions — millions living without God, and soon to dir without hope! Approach and see them one by one, as ihey drop into eternity. It is a melancholy chamber, and a dark hour. That face is pale. That eye is dim with tears. That bosom is torn with anguisli. Those lips quiver with agony, and the despond- ent sufferer draws his last breath in despair! One by one, these millions are sinking into such a death. Yet, through our mercy, they might obtain mercy ; immortal as they are, they may gain a happy immortality. O for more of the spirit of this precious prayer ! The Saviour would have his people utter it, every day they live. His word gees 176 THE MERCV SEAT. forth in vain, without the prayer for his accompanying grace. The most dishearten- ing, the most overwhehning obstacles oppose it at every step. It is not in Paul, nor Apollos ; it is not in ministers, nor means to arouse the lethargy, or disturb the deeply- embedded depravity of the human heart. If men are ever led to do God's will, those who Live an interest at the throne of grace must be often on their knees. They must stretch out their hands unto God. They must lie on their faces at his feet. With hope and confidence, and not unfrequently with strong crying, and many tears, they must carry the souls of men to his throne. We cannot hope too much from him. We shall enjoy for ourselves copious showers of divine grace, as soon as the spirit of supplication is copiously poured upon us from on high. The world will enjoy them, as soon as the churches have more of the spirit of prayer. When we come nearest the throne, then let us remember this precious request. If ever we lean on Jesus' bosom, and feel that we have in- tercourse with him ; if ever we enjoy seasons of enlaigement in prayer, and have the sweet con- sciousness that we are allowed to have power with God, let us fill our mouth with arguments, and plead fervently and importunately, that his will may be done on earth, as it is in heaven. CHAPTER VII r DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. When the Great Teacher undertakes to sum up, in seven short sentences, the whole matter of the sinner's prayer, we are to expect that every one of them is of great importance. If wise and good men, or even holy angels, had had the forming of this prayer, while they would not have overlooked temporal blessings, it is not probable they w^ould have given so prominent a place to the request, " Give us this (hay our dailij bread.'' We cannot too often call to mind that all the dispensations of God are cor^astent with one another. Although he has made man a creature destined for immortality, he has made him to partake of blessings that are mortal. He must have food and raiment, with numberless other attendant mercies, in order rightly to pur- sue the great ends of his immortality. *^ Your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of 8* ITH THE MERCY SEAT. all these things." It is because he has con- nected the highest principle of happiness with the lowest gradation of that happiness, that in this summary of petitions the Lord Jesus has put so high an estimate on the good things of the present world. True religion neither idol- izes, nor overlooks these things. It gives them their proper place ; and while it reproves and condemn:s the avarice and sensuality of a world- ly mind, it at the same time rebukes the stiff severity, the studied abstemiousness, the pro- fessed indifference to worldly good, which are equiiily at war with the promptings of our na- ture, and the claims of duty to God, to our- selves, and to our fellow-men. Our object is to present some expansion of this request, and to select and enforce the great principles it contains. One of these is, that for the supply of THK2R TEMPORAL WANTS, MEN ARE DEPENDENT ON God. Prayer is a distinct recognition of de- pendence. When the Saviour puts the petition into our n-ouths, " Give us this day our daily bread," he not only teaches the abstract doc- trine of our dependence, but that we should be in the habit of acknowledging it. Just in the proportion in which men lose sight of this thought, or live in the neglect of this duty, are they sinking into blank atheism. Temporal en- DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 179 joymeiits are no more the result of chance and contingency, than the beautiful and wondrous world in which we dwell. Natural causes may be the means and instruments of their produc- tion, but they are not the authors of them. They form no constituent part either of the fir- mament above us, or of the earth beneath us ; nor are any of the numerous physical combina- tions which give form and substance to them under the control either of angels or men. The industry of man may be employed in procuring them ; but his very toils furnish affecting admo- nitioQS of his dependence. We are prone to stop at second causes in our survey of the entire range of temporal good; but the spirit of genuine piety stops not short of the great First Cause. Not all the second causes in the universe ever gave fertility to the haxvest field, or clothed the silk worm, or called into being the humblest flower. " Beware," said God to his ancient people, '* lest when thy herds and thy flocks multiply, and thy silver and thy gold is multiplied, and all that thou hast is multiplied; lest thy heart be lifted up, and thou forget the Lord thy God, and thou say in thine heart, My power, and the might of my hand hath gotten me this vrealth." This were neither sound philosophy, nor true reUgion. ** The eyes of all wait upon thee, and thou givest 18U THE MERCY SEAT. them their meat in due season." The provi- dence of God inweaves and immingles itself with all the affairs and circumstances of men. It extends itself alike to the drop of a bucket and to the ocean, to the small dust of the bal- ance and to the whole material universe, to every individual of the human family and to the entire race. The goodness that visits the greater, also visits the less. If the meanest of the human family were too insignificant to be noticed, he would be too insignificant to be heard, and would be alike absolved from the duty and debarred the privilege of prayer. The children of poverty and want may have deeper impressions of their dependence than the sons and daughters of opulence ; while in sober verity, the imperial purple, the splendid palace, and the sumptuous fare of princes, are as truly from God, as the coarse garb, the shat- tered tenement, and the scanty fare of the beg- gar in his rags. The latter may be more ready to disclaim all reliance on other sources; be- cause their daily bread must be dealt out to them, and they must beg it at God's hand. But the rich are not less dependent on the same Almighty Parent. Their abundant resources, their uide domains, their splendid edifices, their costly equipage, their gold and credit, are all in his hands who gives, and takes away, wiien and DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 181 where he pleases. It is not necessary for him to work a miracle, in order to disappoint the expectations of the most confident; defeat their proudest hopes ; and overturn the loftiest edi- fice their pride has reared. Nature herself teaches us that our insufficiency is absolute, while God's sufficiency is houndiess. How many secondary causes, not one of \vhich is under any human control, must be preserved in successful operation in order to secure his daily subsistence to a single individual of the human family ! What a delicate and nice adjustment of all t^ie laws of nature, in order to furnish him food to eat and raiment to put on ! What a multitude of bodies in the planetary system must be constantly and wisely directed, in order to shelter him from the summer's heat and the winter's cold ! What masses of matter must be arranged and propelled ; what orbs must s^xiine, and what clouds obscure ; what vapors must be arrested in mid-air, or gently distil their moisture ; what springs must be filled, and what rivers must flow; what tempests mus;t agitate, and what zephyrs must breathe ; what unnum- bered processes in the vast laboratory of the uni- verse must all be preserved in their due and fitting action, and how many intelligent agents sustained in their course of plodding industry, in order to furnish those blessings which make \S2 THE MERCV SEAT. human r^e cheerful and happy ! Nay, all this is needful even to furnish the wardrobe of the humblest cottager ; or to procure a cup of cold water, or a loaf of bread, or one poor barley-corn. Had we an angel's eye and wing, to follow out and trace the ten thousand influences of that great First Cause, and mark his unwearied care and offices of love, how should we discern his almighty and all-pervading providence, and how deeply should we feel that " in his hand is the soul of every living thing!" To instructions like these, we may also add the lessons of personal experience. You be^an the world poor; and God has not only taken care of you, but given you unexpected prosperity. Every shower and every drought, every storm and every calm, every revolution in human affairs at home and abroad, every year, and it may be every day, while frau;rht with calamity to others, has only served to heap up riches to yourselves. Or it may be that it has been your lot to experience sad and melancholy reverses. Your resources have failt d ; your riches have taken to them- selves wings, and passed away ; your industry and contrivance have all been in vain ; calamity after calamity has invaded your comforts, iind everything has seemed to be against you. And is there no overruling Providence in these things ? Is there no dependence of the creature DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 183 upon the Creator ? " Who knoweth not, in aU these, that the hand of the Lord hath wrought this ?" What we ourselves seem to procure, is from Him ; what we receive from others, is from Him ; what comes to us we know not whence, we know not how, is from Him. What, in the Adew of man, is most contingent, is designed by Him. His providence is daily employed in this wonderful provision. Our dependence is as absolute and unceasing as His superintending care and bounty. Another principle contained in this request is, that WHAT IS THUS SUPPLIED TO THE CHILDREN OF MEN, IS TO THEM A MERE GRATUITY. From men we can often claim temporal good; it is ours by contract, and for services rendered ; we have a right to it by the decision of law, and can en- force that right by legal process. But we have no such claim on God. He owes us nothing. We may use the language of suppliants, '^ Give us this day our daily bread ;" but we have no claim of merit or of right. It is all of his mercy, and not of our own deserving. Man's depend- ence renders his daily bread God's gift'. It be- longs to God; and our lives themselves are his. Gabriel himself cannot say of the smallest and obscurest gem that adorns his crown, that it is of his own procuring. For who hath first *' given to the Lord, and it shall be recompensed to him 184 THE MERCV SEAT. a^aiii; for of him, and to him, and through him, are all things." He is not indebted to the hoiicst of them; nor may one among them all, either among the fallen or unfallen, take from a thread to a shoe latchet, unless he first asks it of God. Earthly good becomes ours only as we ask, and God gives it. The most laborious may not touch the fruits of the ground he has culti- vated, and which he has gathered and garnered, without first asking leave of his heavenly Father. God requires us to ask; it is promised only to those Vv'ho ask. We have the prospect of God's blessing with our daily mercies, only as we ask for them. They become a curse, rather than a blessing, when we take them without asking. To those who will not lay it to heart to give glory unto his name, God says, " I will curse your blessings ; yea, I have cursed them alrea- dy; because ye do not lay it to heart." When the haughty King of Babylon pillaged the ves- sels of gold and silver from the Temple at Jeru- salem, He who dwelleth not in temples made with hands held him responsible for the sacri- lege. And He would have men know, that this ricli and beautiful earth is his temple; that these nnfathoiiied stores of wealth gathered from its recesses, or harvested from its surface, all belong to him, and that when bestowed, they are a mere gratuity, given freely, and without any remune- DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPO' L BLESSINGS. 185 ration to their Author. The rich and great have as little to give for them as the humblest poor. They themselves are nothing, they have nothing, they can do nothing, and enjoy nothing, without Him. And if man's dependence renders his daily bread God's gift, much more does his sinful- ness render it so. As a sinner, he has no right to divine blessings of any kind. As to the creature's right to claim anything from the Cre- ator, it is simply this : so long as he remains in- nocent, he has a claim upon Him for protec'^k)]i. It would be wrong not to exempt him from punishment, because he does not deserve pun- ishment. But when man, by sin, forfeited his life — the greater blessing — his claim to every smaller blessing was forfeited also. Had tl>ere been no forfeiture, there had been no such thhig as suffering for want of the necessaries of life ; and this is one form in which God has written this forfeiture, on man's actual condition. Fallen, sinful, and sinning man ; man \vho not only owes God all that he is and has, but v/ho has forfeited all by his transgressions ; man who has become so deeply indebted to the divine justice, that but for the timely interposition of sovereign mercy, nothing had awaited him but the w orm and the flames ; may well understand that, so far from having any claims on God, ^86 THE MERCY SEAT. whatever he receives that is better than the equitable recompense of his iniquity, is gift, is bounty, is the " gift of God through Jesus Christ.'' it is not a thought to which the minds of Christian men are strangers, that their daily bread is conveyed to them in channels opened at the cross. This otherwise barren and desert earth has become fertile, its clouds surcharged with blessings, and its revolving seasons, and the patient toil of its inhabitants, have become fruitful in mercies only through the mediation of that Great Sufferer, who arrested the sen- tence that would otherwise have consigned it to destruction. God might w ithhold their daily bread, and treat them better than their deserv- ings. And when bestowed, it is without any equivalent or compensation. It is a daily pres- ent ; it is a donation from Him w hose eye never slumbers and whose goodness is never weary. Many a man who disclaims all right to the bounties of God's providence in theory, has a false and secret sense of his worthiness of tem- poral good. We should be disabused of this ensnaring thought, if we would rightly ask for our daily bread. It diminishes our impressions of the divine bounty, and weakens our sense of grateful obligation. If we are made to differ from others, it is God w^ho makes us to differ. DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 187 God is everything to us ; but what are we to him? If it is a proof of an ungenerous and dis- honorable mind to be indifferent to the accepted bounty of men ; and human liberality becomes a thankless and irksome service, where it is im- periously claimed rather than gratefully ac- knowledged. Still more ungenerous and dis- honorable is it to complain that heaven's bounty is scantily, or grudgingly bestowed, or when be- stowed liberally, that it is no more than we had a right to expect. It contributes not a little to our enjoyment of God's goodness to dwell upon it as his gift, and to think of him as the greatest of givers. To know and feel this; to feel it when we pray, is the cheered and grateful sen- timent of true piety, the blessedness of angels, the joy of heaven. There is also another principle of great prac- tical import contained in this request. It strongly inculcates an implicit reliance on THE DIVINE GOODNESS AND BOUNTY FOR ALL THAT WE NEED. It is a great privilege to trust with undisturbed tranquillity on the bountiful provi- dence of our Father who is in heaven. lie has encouraged us to do this by the very privilege of prayer. " In all thy ways acknowledge God ; so shall thy barns be filled with plenty and thy presses burst out with new wine." " What man is there of vou that is a father, who if hijs 188 THE MERCV SEAT. son ask of him bread, will he give him a stone ; or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent ? or ii he ask an egg, will he give him a scorpion ? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him ?" Nothing can be more touching than such an appeal as this. We are needy ; we are un- worthy ; infants are not more dependent : yet may we spread our wants before him as a child before a frither. '' The young lions do lack, and suiTer hunger ; but they that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing." He gives his chil- dren '' things present," as well as " things to come ;" he assures the poorest of them all, that " bread shall be giv en him, and his waters shall be sure." There is no other to whom we maj with entire confidence commit all our tem- poral concerns ; " casting all our care upon him, because he careth for us." He will not trifle with our wants, nor " turn away our prayer, nor his mercy from us." He who fed Israel in the desert, and Elijah at the brook; he who decks the lily and beautifies the rose, will much more clothe those even of little faith. "Behold the fowls of the air ; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your heavenly father feedeth them : are ye not much DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 189 better than they ?" '' The Ijfe is more than meat, and the hodij than raiment T' Life he has already given ; and he who bestowed the greater will not withhold the less. He who first gave these mortal and perishing bodies, and breathed into them the breath of life, unsolicited and be- fore they were asked for, will not, unless w^e trifle with the laws of his providence, and sin- fully neglect the appointed means, deny that which is necessary to preserve the life he gave. Nay, we have stronger grounds for confidence. " He who spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him, also freely give us all things V After such a de- monstration of his goodness, who will question his readiness to supply minor wants, now that there is a free and unimpeded channel opened by which the divine goodness may flow to the guilty ? There is not only no reasonable desire, for the gratification of which the means are not provided, but the God of providence looks beyond the circle of actual want, and is sump- tuous in his provision for the comfort of men, for their convenience, and even for thuir lux- ury. ^'Marvellous are thy works. Lord, God, Almighty, and that my soul knowcth right well I How precious are thy thoughts unto me, O God ; how great is the sum of them ! If I should count them, they are more in number than the 190 THE MERCV SEAT. sand." There is a richness, a munificence and constancy in God's goodness which rebukes dis- trust. Long, very long has it been continued, without any intermission, to this rebellious and ungrateful world, extending itself from year to year, from century to. century, from age to age. It nev^er slumbers, and never sleeps; never relap- ses into a state of insensibility, or forgetfulness. Wo distrust the bounty of creatures. It is one of the deepest trials to which humanity is subjected, to be dependent on creatures. Men feel the bitterness in the uncertainty of tills dependence, not only because it is hum- bling to their pride, but because it defeats their expectations. But the divine bounty need not be distrusted ; it is never bestowed capriciously, because it takes its rise from unfailing, overflow- ing sources; — its sources are neither sealed up by the demerits of its objects, nor exhausted by their poverty. Disquietude and distrust, there- fore, are out of place in creatures that have ac- cess to God. Perplexing uneasiness, carking cares, corroding solicitude, are worse than use- less, because they render us the less fitted to ask, to receive, to labor and to enjoy. They are at war w ith piety ; with the reliance the Bible wan ants, and the confidence God will not dis- appjint. The fault will be our own if he give us not our daily bread, and if we live not secure- DEPEND ENCi: FOll TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 191 ly under his care ; if his sun shine not upon us all the day, and his dew be all night upon our branch ; if we sing not with the sweet Psalmist of Israel, " I will both lay mc down in peace and sleep, for thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety !" Men who profess to trust in the promise of God for their eternal salvation, are often slow of heart to trust him for the things of time. It were well that they bring their faith to this practical test. They give themselves credit for more faith than they have, who can- not trust him for temporal favors. . There is yet another great principle involved in this request : it is that our desires for tem- poral GOOD SHOULD BE 3IODERATE. " GivC US this day our daily hread^ This prayer regulates the amount of our wants, and the measui-^ of our desires. They are limited to a competency. If God's will so decide our destiny, " having food and raiment," w^e should '' learn therew- ith to be content." We should be w'illing to live from day to day, fed by God, and from his table. Where our own duty is faithfully performed, we may not be anxious for to-morro.»^'s bread; God w^ould have us ever coming to him. We are not sure of to-morrow ; we may not need his bounty then ; for " what is your life ; it is even a vapor that appeareth for a little while, and then vanisheth awav." Time flies, the stream 192 THE MERCY SEAT. of life is ebbing away. Tiiat distant, uncertain thing, to-morrow, would have crowned the most ardent hopes, but for the gravx*. When it came, it brought only a cypress wreath. While we covet the good things of this world, the al- mond tree flourishes on our head, the shroud is weiving for us, and the dark and narrow house becomes our home. Whatever other Scriptures may justify a prudent forethought for the things of this world, the petition which we are amplifying obviously gives no countenance to the spirit, of hoarding up. If a Christian man were to make the experiment, he would find it a very difficult thing to prmj for great wealth. The spirit of covetousness and of prayer do not dwell together in the same bosom. ¥/e are instructed to ask only as we need ; there is danger in asking more. God may give more, but it is not safe to ask for more, lest he should say of us as he did of his restive and grasping people of other days, " I gave them their request, but sent leanness into their souls." It is a beautiful remark of Lord Bacon, bad as he was, ''Seek not proud wealth ; but such as thou mayest get justly, use soberly, distribute cheerfully, and leave contentedly." W^ealth is desirable, not for its own sake, not merely for the wants it supplies. In itself, it is an abstract, DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 193 imaginary thing, and where it is possessed, not unfrequently creates more wants than it grati- fies. It is desirable, mainly, to augment influ- ence, and extend the facilities of doing good. That accomplished statesman and jurist, the late William Wirt, a name that will be long illus- trious and venerated in American history, on this topic makes the following touching observa- tions : " Excessive wealth is neither glory nor happiness. The cold and sordid wretch who thinks only of himself; who draws his head within his shell, and never puts it out, but for the purpose of lucre and ostentation ; who looks upon his fellow-creatures, not only without sym- pathy, but with arrogance and insolence, as if they w^ere made to be his vassals, and he to be their lord; as if they were made for no other purpose than to pamper his avarice, or to contribute to his aggrandizement; such a man may be rich, but, trust me, he never can be happy, nor virtuous, nor great. There is in a fortune a golden mean, wdiich is the appropriate region of virtue and in- telligence. Be content with that; and if the horn of plenty overflow, let its droppings fall upon your fellow-men; let them fall like the droppings of honey in the wilderness, to cheer the faint and weary pilgrim." It is a sad thought, that w^ealth is essential to distinction. It is not so. The voice of con- 9 194 ' THE MERCY SEAT. science, the voice of reason, the voice of God, announces it is not so. Wealth alone is not worth living for. Sigh not for wealth. Envy- not the splendor and ease of the affluent. The most wealthy are often the most in want. '' A man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." Where wealth is the most eagerly sought after, it is the least satisfying. No wise man will ever venture to pray that he might be rich. Let a man be thankful, if by exemplary diligence he can pro- cure a comfortable living ; if with this he can be cheerful and happy, he has the earnest of more, and what is of much greater consequence, he has the pledge that more will not be his ruin. An eminent merchant of this metropolis, distinguished not less for his liberality than his integrity and success in business, and who was a most exemplary ruling elder in one of the churches, remarked to the writer of these pages, many years ago, '' Sir, God has been pleased to give me a large share of this world's goods ; but I have never dared to ask for more than my daily bread."* It is no common attainment, rightly to reg- ulate our desires for temporal blessings. There is nothing in regard to which a izood man may be more easily beguiled and blinded, or iu * Tho late Jojiathnn T.ittle. DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 195 which he may trust his own heart less. All our desires and requests for temporal mercies should be constantly and implicitly referred to the ivill of God. He only knows what is best to give, and He only is able and willing to dispense his bounty in that measure which is dictated by unerring wisdom. This should satisfy us. Not to be satisfied with this, is to have the heart of a rebel. Our desires for this world should also all be regulated by desires still more earnest for spirit- ual blessings. This is the great object for which we should live and labor. "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteous- ness.'^ "Whether ye eat or drink, or what- soever ye do, do all to the glory of God." We ought to be deeply anxious, and the prayer should ofxn be on our lips, that we may not be among those to whom God gives all their portion in this life. Better, a thousand fold, to live and die like Lazarus, than like Dives, and hear the affecting admonition at the last, " Son, remem ber that thou in thy life-time receivedst thy good things." It was the prayer of Agur, " Give me neither poverty nor riches ; feed me with food convenient for me : lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord ; or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name of God in vain." Abject poverty may be best for us; 196 THE MERCY SEAT. when it is so, God will send it ; when he sends it, it becomes us to submit to his providence, without repining; and when we are thus sub- missive, he will give grace to preserve us from its snares. Still less can the human heart be trusted with overgrown riches. Christian men who make it an object to be rich, even under the expectation of being more useful, are very apt to impose upon themselves. " They that will be rich, fall into temptation and a snare." " He that maketh haste to be rich shall not be innocent." Great wealth is very apt to breed forgetfulness, and contempt of God. In giving the power, it is very apt to induce the habits of self-indulgence and luxury. It cherishes that " pride of life" which is so un- friendly to the claims of the gospel. It fosters that feeling of personal independence which leads the soul to lean on earth, and make not God its refuge. It strengthens that natural at- tachment to the things that are seen and tempo- ral, which renders it so " hard to enter into the kingdom of God," and which it is one of the great objects of Christianity to subdue. " Cov- etousness is idolatry." There is little room in the heart for God where it is preoccupied by the w^orld. The love, worship, and service of God are excluded by another deity; the loyalty which ought to be felt to the Great Supreme is DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 197 transferred to another sovereign. True piety itself is very apt to be stinted in its growth, and to wither away under the burning sun of pros- perity ; it loses its strength and healthfulness when nursed in the lap of pride and luxury. The unction perishes from the heart, where it is overwhelmed by the cares and perplexities of opulence. Good men, when once they become rich, find themselves insensibly attached to their gold and their merchandise, their territory and their enterprises, their influence and the splen- dor of their name. They become avaricious and grasping ; and before they are aware of it, feel embarrassed in their spiritual course, and find that they have new enemies to contend with, and mountains of difiiculty to travel over in their heavenward career. They have little time for reading, prayer, reflection, and Chris- tian intercourse. It is not often that you find a wealthy Christian a burning and shining light. I have often wondered why it is, that so many who in their youth were distinguished for Chris- tian fervor, meekness, devotion and activity, should in middle life become so cold and lan- guid. The simple truth is, they have become rich. Thorny cares have sprung up, and over- power-.d, and choked the word, so that it has become unfruitful. There may be instances in which such persons become more bountiful ; but 198 THE MERCY SEAT. it is a mistake to suppose that their liberality is an offset for their deficiencies in piet} . I would not have these remarks misunder- stood. Men may be rich and yet be pious ; nor are there wanting lovely exemplificationo of un- ostentatious and active piety among those who are the most successful in the world. iVnd they may be pious and yet be poor — poor even to in- disrence. Grace can surmount the obstacles of both these extremes. But this is no evidence that our desires after the good things of this w^orld ought not to be moderate ; nor that the medium between riches and poverty is not the safest condition for fallen man. The Saviour has taught us, in this prayer, to seek a compe- tency in the wisdom and bounty of his provi- dence ; to seek more is neither pious nor wise. *' Godliness, with contentment, is great gain ; for we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out." God ap- proved the prayer of Solomon, because he de- sired a wise and understanding heart, rather than riches or long life. The happiest man is he who most gratefully enjoys and makes the best use of whatever God is pleased to bestow. The " providence of God is his surest estate ;" his bounty his best treasure ; his fatherly care his most certain and comfortable supply. He stays himself upon God, and his cheerful language is. DEPENDENCE FOR TEMPORAL BLESSINGS. 199 ^' The Lord is my shepherd ; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures ; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He anointeth my head with oil ; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life !" Such are some of the principles involved in the petition, "Give us this day our daily bread." We may well cherish the spirit of this request. It becomes us as God's creatures, and as his children. Though we may have felt his scourge, we have much to be thankful for, which we should never forget. Would that our hearts were more truly touched with a sense of his goodness ! Man's ingratitude is affecting proof of his alienation from God. I had well nigh said, it is difficult to account for it, even upon the principles of his apostasy. Men feel deeply in seasons of trial; they dwell upon their losses; they magnify their afflictions ; but how rarely do they dwell intensely on their mercies, and magnify the expressions of the divine bounty ! How soon they forget them; what weakness and inconstancy of heart do they betray in those recollections which ought to be the most grateful and permanent ! Scarcely have they received one favor but they are looking for an- other, and complain if it is not given. They may be slow in admitting the abstract thought 200 THE MERCY SEAT. that God is indebted to them; yet they too often feel and conduct themselves as though, in Avithholding his bounty, he were actually doing them an injury. A grateful mind is a happy mind. It is a peaceful, a joyous mind. It is the zest of joy. How little do we know of the emphasis and urgency of the request, "Give us this day our daily bread !" The stress of want compels men to pray. That prodigal who is famishing with hunger, knows how to crave the crumbs that fall from the table of the divine bounty. That daughter of sorrow and want, who has wept over her last loaf^ and knows not, after all that her ingenuity can devise, where she is to look for the supplies of the passing hour, knows the im- port of the words, " give me this day my daily bread." The time may come when, if you have never prayed before, you too may feel the im- port of such a request as this. Your children, too, may learn its import, and kneeling at your feet, be taught to say, " Our Father, who art in heaven, give us this day our daily bread.'* And shall nothing but dependence thus realized drive you from all other resources, to God alone ? .nothing but poverty and want lead you and them thus to pray '? CHAPTER IX. PRAYER AND PAINS. In exhibiting", as we have done in the pre- vious chapter, some of the great principles recognized in the request, " Give us this day our daily bread," we have endeavored to mag- nify the creature's dependence, and God's bounty. We would not so represent either, as to overlook the fact that God deals with men as rational and active creatures, and that, as such, they are bound to make use of their reason and their uctivity. The law of reason and nature, and the law of grace are in this respect perfectly coincident. Just as there ever has been a difficulty in the method of redemption by Christ Jesus in recon- ciling the activity of man with his dependence, has there been a difficulty in reconciling the dependence of men on God for their daily sub- sistence with the necessity of effort on their 202 THE MERCY SEAT. part to procure it. But the oracles of God teach and insist on both these truths ; they call upon men to " work out their own salvation with fear and trembling, because it is God who worketh in them to will and to do, of his good pleasure ;" and they call upon them, if they would have their daily bread, not to look for it in the neglect of those well-known laws of his providence, which he has established for their conduct in the common affairs of human life. Man's dependence on God for his daily sub sistence, leaves all the motives and all the in- fluences of human activity and enterprise pre- cisely where it found them. No man may ex- ercise a presumptuous confidence in the divine bounty — a confidence w hich gives him hope in the neglect, or violation of his known duty. God is the giver of his daily bread ; but he him- self has a part to act in procuring it. God's blessing is to be sought and hoped for only in the due and proper use of his own powers. The purposes of God, be they what they may, are never carried into eflfect without th means by which they were intended t*^ be ac- complished. The means, in every instance, form an integral part of the purpose itself; they sustain, in the original arrangement of the divine- mind, an indissoluble and necessary connection with the end; and without them, there is no PRAYER AND PAINS. 203 purpose formed, no end to be attained. There is the existence and influence of the great pri- mary Cause of all thing\s; but this does not supei-sede the existence and influence of nume- rous proximate and instrumental causes; be- cause these latter are the selected means and instruments by which the great overruling Cause himself has ordained the accomplishment of his purposes. Although he is the great Giver of ail temporal blessings, yet if it be by wisely-appointed means and instruments that he gives, the appli- cation of these means and instruments is indis- pensable to tlie gift. It is so for every gift which Gocl bestows. Men, in the common affairs of human life, never think of acting upon any other principle. There are things which God has to do, in furnishing his creatures with food and raiment ; and there are things which his creatures themselves have to do. The place which he occupies i^s one which if he do not fill, it is in vain that they occupy the place which he assigns to them ; while, if they occupy not the intermediate places assigned to them, the series of his operations is left incomplete. With his work of beneficence they have nothing to do, save gratefully to acknowledge that it is his work; while, in their own sphere, they have everything to perform, else they may not hope for 204 THE MERCY SEAT. his blessing upon the labor of their hands, What^ then, are the appointed means by which a benefi- cent Providence supplies the temporal wants of men ? These are mainly the following : In the first place, there is nothing in man's dependence that dispenses with his oton industry. His dependence does not destroy the obligations under which he is placed by the law of nature ; and one of these is diligence in his calling. It is so employing his time, and the talents com- mitted to him, as to turn them to good account. He owes it to his Maker, to society, to himself, to put forth his exertions to some valuable end. He who so richly endowed man with such diver- sified powers of body and mind, and rendered him capable in so many ways of benefitting him- self and his fellow-men, has not denied him a wide and varied field wherein he may exert the powers so freely bestowed. Useful occupation is his appropriate employment ; without it, he will never answer the great end of his existence. Exertion, vigorous, persevering exertion^ com- mends itself to the texture and constitution of his body and mind. An unoccupied and idle man countervails all the laws both of his animal and intellectual frame, and wages war upon every organ of his material, and every faculty of his immaterial being. He is like children PRAYER AND PAINS. 205 among men ; he is like the dead among the living; he buries himself alive. If there are those who so pervert the instruc- tions of the Bible, in regard to man's dependence and God's bounty, as to rest satisfied with pray- ing that God would give them their daily bread, without themselves working for it, there is one very ready way of rectifying their error; and the Bible furnishes it, when it deliberately de- clares, " He that will not work, neither let him eat." It is the published law of the Redeemer's kingdom, that work a man must, or he shall starve. Religion offers no bounty to idleness; her bounty is for those who would, but cannot, labor. If Christian liberality were regulated by the Bible, men who are able to labor, and can get anything to do, would be constrained to ex- ertion by necessity. It is a law of Christianity, as well as nature, that " drowsiness shall cover a man with rags." And it is both an equitable and a benevolent law. It is equitable, because there is no equity in imposing a burden upon the industrious, which is not borne by their more idle companions; it is benevolent, because in relieving men from the necessity of labor, you take from them their best heritage, and sink them in irreclaimable degradation. If they would live above want, they must pay the price for it in corresponding effort ; if that may be called a B06 THE MERCY SEAT. price which, where the habits of industry are im* bibed and cherished, is itself a pleasure. There is no relief from the operation of this wise and healthful, this equitable and benevo- lent law. Labor and success, effort and attain- ment, without some special countervailing influ- ence, are rarely dissevered ; while the few in- stances in which they are so, form such obvious and striking exceptions, that they only evince the importance of the rule. Though " the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong," yet is it a law which no man may trifle with, that men attain their ends by the laborious and steady pursuit of them. It is a dream of the imagination to look for a competent portion of the good things of this life without effort. I have said that the law^ of labor is a benevo- lent law\ An idle man is always a disappointed man ; he is ever complaining of his misfortunes; he sinks in despondency, because he is sunk in negligence and sloth. There is nothing in his eager hopes and vivid expectations that encour- ages and charms him. He lives only for the present, and has none of that bright impulse which carries him forward to halcyon days to come. In this respect he scarcely differs from the inferior animals ; but, like them, is envi- roned with a dense w^all, beyond which he can catch but a glimmering light. His prospect is PRAYER AND PAINS. 207 scarcely brighter or wider than theirs. The ac- tual scenes of human life never present them- selves to him in their true coloring, but are tinged with many a dark and melancholy hue. That absorbing sentimentalism, that morbid sen- sibility, which is so often the bane of manly and energetic qualities, find no welcome in the bo- som of the man whose high aims are gratified in the prospect of responsible exertion. The pri- meval paradise was not sufficiently fair to make its inhabitants happy without occupation. Man could not be deprived of a greater blessing than useful employment. If you would make him miserable, let him have nothing to do. The moral virtue of men depends, in no small degree, upon their industry and enterprise. Idleness is the nursery of crime. It is that bitter and pro- lific germ of which all rank and poisonous vices are the fruits. It is the source of temptation. It is the field where *' the enemy sows tares while men sleep." Could we trace the history of a large class of vices, we should find that they originate in the want of employment, and are brought in to supply the place which some use- ful employment would otherwise supply. There are others which take their rise from mere re- luctance to labor, and are resorted to, because those who practise, and those who patronize them, are too indolent to work. Idleness has 208 THE MERCY SEAT. slain its thousands. It is the corrupter of men and nations. It corrupted Sodom. It corrupted Nine V eh. It corrupted Babylon. It corrupted Greece and Rome. The greatest, I had almost said the only barrier against vice is the habit of industry. Industrious habits render vice un- necessary and disagreeable, and prevent the opportunity of indulgence. An industrious man is the companion of industrious men, and has neither time nor temptation to be vicious. There is no other possible way of preventing and restraining vice in our families, in our com- munity, in our land, in our young men, and in all ranks and orders of human society, than by promoting industry. Few men know how to make the most of human life. Time is the most valuable of all the talents entrusted to them. It is of more importance to improve human life, than to extend it unimproved ; to live w ell than to live long. No man can promise himself twenty years ; yet may he live twenty in ten. Nor are these unchristian thoughts, nor be- yond the instructions of the Bible, or in any way removed from the legitimate sphere of its influ- ence. '' In the sweat of thy face, shalt thou eat thy bread until thou return to the ground." " Seest thou a man diligent in his business; he shall stand before kings ; he shall not stand before mean men." " The hand of the diligent PRATER AND PAINS. 209 maketh rich," and " shall bear rule." '' Be thou diligent to know the state of thy flocks and thy herds." " Diligent in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord." " Six days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work.'' While, therefore, in all their industry, men must de- pend on the blessing of God, they may not ex- pect his blessing except upon their industry. The Scriptures nowhere countenance an inac- tive reliance upon God, save where the oppor- tunity and power of action are taken away. Men do not live by miracles. They have no w^arrant to throw themselves upon divine provi- dence without any efforts of their own, until God constrains them so to do. They should be slow to believe that such necessity exists; nor until it does exist may they cast themselves upon God without concern, and feel that they themselves have no active responsibility. Another of the means, without which we may look in vain for temporal good to God as the gi^'er, is econoyny. It is scarcely less a perv^er- sion of the laws of divine providence, to rely on that providence for our daily bread in the disuse of the powers and faculties which God has given us, than in the perversion and abuse of the boun- ties he bestows. I know not how a wasteful and extravagant man can ever, with good con- science, repeat the Lord's Prayer. He who 210 THE MERCr SEAT. wastes what God gives him, may not complain if he ceases to give. Nature and providence are constantly read- ing us this lesson. One law is made to sub- serve a thousand purposes, and acts every- where. Nothing is thrown aw^ay ; nothing lost ; nothing but accomplishes its appropriate end. The accuracy of the divine arrangements is as truly wonderful as their bounty. In all that God does there is a place for everything, and everything is in its place ; nor may this eco- nomical arrangement be disturbed by human recklessness, or even human thoughtlessness and improvidence, without suffering. This is the universal law of nature. Accurate philo- sophical investigations have discovered that every substance in the natural world that does not retain its original form, passes into some other equally important in its place. The ves- sel of water which is converted into vapor and steam, is again condensed, and loses not a scruple of its original weight. The billet of wood that is consumed in the lire, or the trunk that decays in the forest, gives out the whole of its substance, either in the matter it depos- its, or the gases it emits. There is no example of the entire destruction of anything in the uni- verse. Changes are indeed taking place in countless variety ; but the most penetrating PRAYER AND PAINS. ^ll observer has not been able to discover that anything has been absolutely destroyed. If then such is the wise economy in the king- dom of nature ; if the most worthless mineral, or the meanest vegetable, when decomposed, is resolved into elements which immediately en- ter into new combinations, and in other forms assist in carrying on the designs of providence ; surely nothing was given to men to destroy. The voice of this frugal arrangement is, that no man may innocently overlook this divine consti- tution, and either slight the gifts of providence, or profusely scatter them, as if they were made only to be thrown away. And such is the voice of the Bible. " Godliness is profitable to the life that now is." It gives even the lowest moral duty a place in its system of instruction. " The disciple is not above his Lord." The Saviour was standing in the midst of abundance miracu- lously created by his command, and he chose this opportunity to give utterance to the injunc- tion, *' Gather up the fragments, that nothing be lost." He did not deem it dishonorable and mean to be frugal; dishonor and meanness are more justly chargeable to waste and prodigality. He that is regardless of little things, will be very apt to be careless of those that are greater. The foundation of wealth is laid not merely in habits of industry, but in habits of wise and 212 THE MERCY SEAT. persevering economy. Property is not usually acquired by a few bold, successful operations, but by a slow and prudent, though always ad- vancing process, and by minute and careful ac- cumulations. " A good man," says the Psalm- ist, " will guide his affairs with discretion." Men must themselves not only plant and water, but watch and spare, if they expect God to give the increase. The man who makes the best use of what God gives him, takes care of it that he may use it to the best advantage. His economy becomes the welcome handmaid of his benevolence ; and though he may sometimes complain that it is taxed to relieve wants occa- sioned by the extravagance of others, he spares that he may give ; the great sources of his char- ity are found in his retrenchments. He spares that he may spend; he lives not for the luxury of wasting. Nor do we hesitate, in the next place, to specify among the means of temporal prosperity, a sacred regard to the hordes Bay. The com- mand, " Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy," is so consonant to the law of nature and of providence, and is so adapted to the wants of man as an intellectual, moral, and physical being, that he who trifles with it usually pays the penalty in temporal suffering. To rest from secular and worldly employment one sev- PRAYER AND PAINS. 213 enth part of every week, and to devote this season to the cultivation of personal, domestic, and public piety, has been found by experience to exert a benign eifect on the temporal inter- ests of men. Health of body, cheerfulness and activity of mind, cannot be long enjoyed with- out this repose. The statistics have been greatly accumulated which show the fearful waste of human comfort in communities and employ- ments, where there is no such suspension from care and toil. If a man would make the most of human life for this world, to say nothing of the world to come, he will charge himself to be a conscientious observer of this consecrated day. A little reflection will show even the most worldly men, that the appointment of such a day of rest is founded in great wisdom and good- ness, and that it is the interest, as well as the duty of men, to preserve it inviolate. If you look over this extended metropolis, and mark the history of those whom God has prospered in the world, you will find them, for the most part, among men who were early educated in communities and families that were taught to fear the Lord of the Sabbath. And though many of them may not at heart be pious men, yet are they men whose consciences and con- duct are controlled by strong impressions of the 214 THE MERCY SEAT. sacredness of this holy day. There is very little hope for the prosperity of a young man, who tramples upon this great institution. Had I the control of an important mercantile establish- ment, or a responsible pecuniary institution, I would say to a man who habitually profanes the Lord's Day, " Sir, we do not want you. There is something rotten in the character of the man who despises the Sabbath day." The parent who would see his child prosper may not fail to instil into his mind a due regard to the fourth commandment. If there be no other lesson of business which he teaches him, let him teach him this. Let a young man habit- ually remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy, and into what a sphere of moral influences is he at once thrown ! by what a circumvalla- tion is he surrounded, that separates him from a multitude of causes that are ruinous to his tem- poral prosperity ! Another of the means of worldly good is a sacred regard to truth. Truth between man and man, is the only solid basis of human inter- course. Without it there can be no confidence in the transactions of business; no order, no happiness in human society. Men scarcely know the value it gives to their character as men of the world, to have it known that they speak the whole truth when it ought to be PRAYER AXD PAINS. 215 spoken ; that they speak it fully and without concealment ; that they speak it freely and without fear ; without mincing and obscuring it, and without sinister and selfish ends, and im- partially. A lying tongue is fatal to all hope of advancement in this world, as well as all hope of the life that is to come. It is in vain for a man to say, that he means no harm when he utters that which is false ; he does harm, and probably more than all others, to himself. Let him once imbibe the habit of uttering that which is untrue, and he will find that the dis- honor cleaves to him, nor can the stain easily be wiped away. There is not one, even among those Avho love him best, and would fain con- tribute to his welfare, who does not esteem and love him less, and less confide in him for every instance of falsehood. A liar has no confidence in himself, because he has no consciousness of an inward principle of truth and integrity in his own heart. His word is doubted ; he is a sus- pected man ; he has lost caste ; he has inflicted unspeakable injury on himself; and if his daily bread is but scantily supplied, the fault is his own, the unkind ness his own, the cruelty his own. The thought may well be deeply im- pressed, especially on the minds of the young, that a lying tongue throws insurmountable bar- riers in the way of their temporal prosperity. 216 THE MERCY SEAT. Love, confidence, and honor, or detestation, dis- trust and disgrace, will follow them, as they are, or are not observant of the claims of truth. Every unfounded statement, every misstate- ment, every evasive, equivocating statement, where truth is called for, every low art of con- cealment and dissimulation, every broken prom- ise, serves to shut up the avenue to advance- ment. While on the other hand, truth, pure truth with all its simplicity, loveliness, and transparency, is so usually attended with the other great moral virtues, that, with God's bles- sing, it is the sure road to comfort, usefulness and distinction. Another means of temporal prosperity is that genuine rectitude and integrity of character which secure honesty in our dealings with one another. Dishonesty is one of those deliberate and sober vices, the effects of which cannot often be sur- vived even by a thorough reformation. Some- times it is the result of inconsiderateness; some- times of passion ; but more usually it is a calm and premeditated sin, which, if it does not al- ways indicate an advanced stage of wickedness, indicates a mind that is reckless of ultimate success in the world. A single act of indiscre- tion, in this sensitive department of morals, is very apt to demoralize the mind of the perpe- trator, and lead to perpetuated wrong. " He PRAYER AND PAINS. S17 that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in that which is much ; and he that is un- just in the. least, is unjust also in much." Dis- honesty is a sin too destructive to the well-being of society, not to be ruinous to the individual who pmctises it. He who is willing to be poor rather than dishonest, by honesty may become rich. One more thought deserves consideration, as connected by the divine appointment with tem- poral prosperity : it is, di filial, respectful, and du- tiful deportment toward parents, " Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." That this arrangement was not exclu- sively applicable to the Israelites, is evident from the fact, that the Apostle refers to it as the " first commandment with promise." For one act of dishonor to parents, the race of Ham was doomed to subjection and servitude. Where the obligations under which a child is to his pa- rents are disregarded, there is little reason to confide in the influence of any of those moral principles which are the ordinary pledge of sue- cess in secular pursuits. There are few more certain proofs of a fearfully depraved heart. This is, probably, one reason why a duty which has no proximate relation to worldly prosperity, is prescribed as one of the conditions of it. But 10 218 THE 3IERCY SEAT. however this may be, it is one of the conditions which God himself has established, and which none will disregard who hope to prosper. Youthful indiscretions his providence may over- look ; but where this undutiful spirit and deport- ment are persevered in, even though repented of in after life, they are very apt to carry along w ith them the forfeiture of the promise contain- ed in the fifth commandment. There stands the dreadful and unrepealed, though figurative de- claration, " The eye that mocketh at his father, and that refuseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it/' Such are the ordinary means of procuring tem- poral blessings. Where these are faithfully adopted and pursued, men may consistently pray, ''Give us this day our daily bread!" Where, in defiance of these, they are poor, God will take care of them. His hand may be upon them ; sickness, infirmity, age, misfortune, may invade them; and they may be cut off from all other resources, except his immediate care ; and then he will care for them. They are then God's poor; and though manna may not be rained for them out of heaven, nor water gush from the rock; though their Injuls may not be like Gideon's fleece, nor their supplies furnished by the same miraculous Power that replenished PRAYER AND PAINS. 219 the widow's cruise of oil and barrel of meal ; the promise shall not fail, " No good thing will He withhold from them that walk uprightly/' I have not presented the preceding thoughts, seemingly upon a topic of purely temporal inte- rest, without some hesitation. If any of my readers feel that they have too much to do with time, and not enough w ith eternity ; if they are repelled by them, as by a cold and heartless mo- rality, and as " savoring not the things that be of God, but the things that be of men;" I entreat them to guard their own minds against all such unhallowed impressions. Nothing is further from the heart of him who pens the present chapter, than thus to justify a worldly mind, I seem to hear a voice, as if from heaven, as I draw to a conclusion these secularizing thoughts, saying to the reader and the writer, " Labor not for the meat that perisheth, but for that which endureth unto everlasting life." If God and nature require care for earthly things ; if they may have a place even in our daily prayers at the throne of grace; what is not required for the things that are hea- venly ? Oh ! let us seek the bread of life ; let us strive to enter into the kingdom of God. God has done much to provide temporal enjoyments ; but to provide those that are heavenly, the hea- vens themselves have bowed, and emptied them- 220 ' THE MERCY SEAT. selves of their choicest treasure. After all their industry and economy, men may fail of attaining earthly treasures ; and they will disappoint them, if attained. Heavenly treasures are unfading and eternal. CHAPTER I THE DOCTRINE OF FORGIVENESS. To overlook our wants as sinners in the all- absorbing solicitude for our wants as creatures, were as though the sentenced criminal should be mainly anxious for the conveniences and comforts of his dungeon, while he neglects to seek pardon from the Sovereign to whom he has been recommended for mercy. " What shall it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul ; or what shall a man give in ex- change for his soul ?" Of how little avail are all the luxuries of this earthly pilgrimage com- pared with a pacified conscience, and a tranquil hope of pardon ! God is the hearer of prayer to the full extent in which the suppliant is a man of prayer. The request that he would '^ give us day by day our daily bread," may be an- swered in the supply of every temporal want; while amid all the bounty and munificence of 222 THE MERCY SEAT. his providence, the sins of nature and of practice may be registered against us, and we remain strangers to the riches of that grace which con- signs them to oblivion. Those who are equal sharers in the enjoy- ments of the present world, are also equal shar- ers in the common nature of a fallen humanity. Amid the higher distinctions of wealth and the lower degradations of poverty, neither the children of opulence nor of want are exempted from that sweeping declaration, "There is none righteous, no not one." When they come into the presence of that Being who levels all dis- tinctions, the rich and the poor meet on com- mon ground, and under a deep sense of their necessities as sinners. The day will come when they will no longer have need to ask for their daily bread. Now they are tenants of time, and prisoners of hope. They have wants, and may seek supply ; they have sins, and may crave for- giveness. The gracious and condescending Sa- viour has put the request into their lips, " For- give us our debts!" The lost condition of men as sinners, as it is the melancholy fact which makes forgiveness neces- sary, so is it necessary to be understood in order to a right understanding of the doctrine of par- don. All that men are and have, belongs to God. From him they receive their existence; THE DOCTRINE OF FORGIVENESS. 223 for all things they are dependent on him. To question his claims is to do him wrong; to re- sist them is rebellion. Sin is the act of robbing God, Men have taken from him that which does not belong to them ; they are his debtors ; they owe him ample reparation for the wrongs they have done, and are in debt to his equal justice. Every sinner is an infinite debtor, God is under no obligation to him ; he is under all obligations to God. " Who hath first given to the Lord, and it shall be recompensed to him again ; for of him, and through him, and to him are all things," It is impossible for the offender to make any satisfaction ; he has nothing to pay ; the debt must be freely forgiven, or he must meet the rightful exactions of the avenging penalty. Some are greater sinners than others, but all are debtors to God's justice, and stand in need of forgiveness, " If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquity, O Lord, who shall stand ?" The man does not live, who can deny the charge of guilt which a righteous God records against him ; who can excuse or palliate it ; who can make any amends for it ; who can escape, or resist, or endure his wrath. " By one man," says Paul, " sin entered into the world, and death by sin ; and so death pass- ed upon all men, for that all have sinned," 224 THE MERCV SEAT. '' By the offence of one, judgment came upon all men to condemnation." " By one man's dis- obedience, many ^vere made sinners." " In Adam, all die." The fact may not be denied, that the character and condition of the race were materially affected by this first apostasy. The ground was cursed, on account of it. Man was doomed, in all following ages, to toil and sorrow; woman to be a sufferer and the race mor- tal; and everything human to come into exist- ence under the frown of an offended God. Just as the heir is ruined by the father's debt, was the posterity of Adam brought in debt to divine justice by the fault of their common parent. Just as the citizens of a state are ruined by one false step of their rulers, or O'f the legislators who represent them, was the posterity of Adam ruined by their divinely appointed representative. No principle is more radical to all social or- ganization than this, nor is there any one that is more universally recognized. Men are respon- sible in law for the acts of their legal represen- tatives. A false step in tlie conductors of a cor- porate institution, is visited upon every membe^r of the body corporate. A national debt descends from generation to generation, and their posteri- ty are rightfully bound to fulfil the obligations of their ancestors. There are also crimes of such enormity, as to extend their legal forfeiture THE DOCTRINE OF FORGIVENESS. 226 to the children of the criminal, and cut them off from honorable titles and large estate. If we look around us, we shall see individuals and whole classes of men, acting not for them- selves only, but for others, and those who come after them. Their acts are not the acts of others, any more than the act of Adam, in eating the forbidden fruit, is the act of his descendants; yet are others legally bound by them, and the effects of them are as truly theirs as if they themselves had performed them. The posterity of Adam did not appoint him to act for them ; that appointment had a higher origin, and is indicative of the wisdom and good- ness of its divine source. If the wisdom of hu- man laws may not be impugned for such ar- rangements; if men deem it essential to the interests of good government to hold one portion of society responsible for the conduct of another; why may not God, in his wisdom, legislating for all men and all ages of the world, thus throw the character and destiny of the race into the hands of their first father ? The ground on which men adopt this arrangement, is the com- mon good ; the best interests of the community require it. It is the best system of government; nor would it be possible for government other- wise to exert an extensively pi'ospective influence. And the ground on wliich God adopts it is the 10* 226 THE MERCY SEAT. same. It is not an arbitrary measure, but a most wise and benevolent one, and consults his own honor, and the best interests of his extend- ed and eternal empire. When he issued the law of Paradise, he was not legislating for the localit}^ of Eden, nor for an individual, nor for a day ; but for the earth on which we dwell, for the race of man, and in all the successive ages of his history. So far from finding fault with this divine arrangement, it is no easy matter to see how it could have been different from w hat it was, and have been either so equitable or so wise. <- = Had God placed every successive individual of the race on trial for himself, w hat a world were this which we should have occupied ! What numberless solicitudes would have gathered around the destiny of every new-born infant — nay, what painful unccM'tainty, what agony inde- scribable till the question were decided whether he would stand or fall for eternity. And if he fell, how would those solicitudes have been aug- mented in view of the problem, whethei; there were or were not any method to be revealed for his recovery ! How much more wise, how much more expressive of the divine goodness, that both these questions should be decided in the person of him who was " the figure of Him that was to come;" and by whose fall, the way was pre- THE DOOTRINE Ot^ FORGIVENESS. 227 pared for the revelation and introduction of that method of mercy which had a simultaneous and prospective relation to the entire race, be- cause though not practically, yet in the eye of law, they '' sinned in him and fell with him in his fii-st transgression." It is easy for the mind to involve itself in webs of perplexity by con* sidering the fall of our first parent as an isolated event in the divine government, and the law of Paradise as a mere local statute ; but when we regard them as the germ, and foreshadowing of another and more comprehensive dispensa- tion, both based upon the same principle of vi- carious responsibility, short-sighted and fallen as we are, we may see enough in this peculiar economy not to silence our murmurings only, but to secure our admiration. The sin of their first parent, therefore, is the first debt which stands charged to his posterity. It isnota personal, but an imputed offence. They did not, they could not commit it ; because it was perpetrated before they were born ; yet the legal forfeiture of it entails to them, because the Sov- ereign Lawgiver appointed him to act in their place. And though his act was not their act, nor can they repent of it, because they did not commit it, yet are they all ruined by it — made bankrupts by the defalcations of their first father. 228 THE MERCY SEAT. Unsevered from the respor sibility of this original sin, tliere is in all men the inheritance of a morally corrupted nature, constituting their na- tive depravity. All agree that there is a fearful and tremendous visitation of the iniquity of the parent upon the children, call it by what name you will. Adam '' begat a son in his own like- ness;" not in the likene.^s of his unfallen, but his fallen nature. There is not merely an utter want of original righteousness in ev^ery new-born child of the human family ; there are tendencies to evil which no second causes can control ; evil desires and evil dispositions which indicate that the mind is dead in sin. There are no instances of exemption from them by virtue of any natural tendency to what is right ; and to whatever ex- tent it may be counteracted, whether by provi- dential restraint, or by gracious influence, that counteraction is always in opposition to the nat- ural bias of the mind. The history of man in all ages shows that good is not natural to the human heart; individual consciousness shows it. The mind is not even indifferent io good and evil ; its predilections are in favor of evil. No child needs to be taught, or persuaded, or coerced to what is wrong*; while in the adop- tion and imitation of what is right, instruction, persuasion, the coercion of law, the authority of THE DOCTRINE OF FORGIVENESS. 229 motives, are not only requisite, but defective and inefficient. The language of revelation on this subject is clear and decisive. '' Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean ?" " Behold, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me !" " The wicked are estranged from the womb ; they go astray as soon as they be born, speaking lies." " The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth." " Who were by nature the children of wrath even as others." However the mind may be improved by moral culture, this is its wretched condition until it is " born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God." Born of man, it is human, and because human it is im- pure and sinful; " that which is born of the flesh, is flesh." Born of God, it partakes of another nature, a nature that is spiritual and divine ; for " that which is born of the Spirit is spirit." If men were not by nature totally sinful, this change would not be necessary. The fountain head is polluted, and the streams are impure. There is no moral conformity of soul to the pure image of its Maker. The un- derstanding is darkened ; the conscience has become a perverted and erring guide ; the heart is corrupt ; and the passions are like a stormy 230 THE MERCY SEAT. sea whose waters cast up mire and dirt. The thoughts are ungoverned and ungovernable ; the imagination vain and corrupt ; the memory reposes with gratified complacency on scenes of wickedness ; the whole mind is alienated from the Author of its being and the true sources of permanent and virtuous joy. And, what is most melancholy proof of this deep- seated wickedness, these evil propensities, this antipathy to good and proneness to sin, are never entirely eradicated this side the grave, even in the best of men. When we pray, " Forgive us our debts," we acknowledge that we have incurred this forfeiture. There is a concession in this request that we have no righteousness inherent. How humbling, how prostrating the consideration that we are thus vile ! Inseparable from this corrupt nature, there are unnumbered deeds of wickedness, and overt violations of the divine law, by which men have incurred the still more fearful obligations to punitive justice. We have but to read its precepts and prohibitions and compare our character and conduct with these high claims, in order to be convinced that the amount of ur forfeitures is such as to throw us at the footst jol of mercy, and make us the merest beggars for forgiving grace. Everywhere men have otbei THE DOCTRINE OP FORGIVENESS. 231 gods beside the living and true God ; they set up idols in their hearts even where they do not worship gods which their own hands have made. They take the name of God in vain ; their lips glow with curses and imprecations of evil ; they '* set their mouth against the heavens, and their tongue walketh through the earth." They dis- honor that holy Day which God has ordained and blessed ; are cold and lukewarm in its du- ties, and neglect them for their own pleasures. Parents are unmindful of their duty to their children, and children are disrespectful and dis- obedient to their parents. Rulers are tyrants, and subjects are rebels against good and whole- some laws. Indifference, anger, hatred, and envy, in all the forms of outward unkindness and malignity, take the place of the charity that believeth all things, hopeth all things, beareth all things, and never faileth. Wars and fightings, intemperance and impurity, prod- igality and idleness, fraud and falsehood, ava- rice, cruelty and ambition, all hold a wide place in the character and conduct of men. Added to these are all the forms of ingratitude ; the various shades of unbelief; the rejection of the great salvation ; the resistance of the Holy Spirit, and the abuse of the divine forbearance ; all and every one of them long continued, often repeated, multiplied as the stars of the firma- 232 THE MERCY SEAT. ment, and persisted in with great perseverance and obduracy. If every sin deserves God's wrath and curse, sins like these give the divine justice impera- tive and resistless claims upon their perpetra- tors. They are righteously devoted to punish- ment. Sin tends to usurp God's government ; he only knows the demerit of it ; nor does he ever mistake in appointing the punishment to the crime. No matter how low a man may set the mark of transgression ; every sin, ev en the smallest, involves the nature and essence of all other sins. It is a world of sin in miniature, and only wants time and opportunity to unfold its dark imagery. Nor is the bond that connects sin with pun- ishment a doubtful one ; it is inviolable, and full of wrath. The sentence is past; the death- warrant is gone forth ; and if there be no for- giveness, the transgressor must " depart ac- cursed into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." It is not sovereignty that punishes, but justice ; a justice, which, while it never inflicts more than is deserved, may not inflict less. It is not revenge that pun- ishes, but principle ; otherwise it might change its purpose. It is not malice, for then it might be satiated ; it is pure, unchanging rectitude, which may not be satisfied until the transgressor THE DOCTRINE OF FORGIVENESS. 233 n^ceive the full reward of his deeds, or take refuge in some accepted atonement. Not only i:, he in debt to justice, but his arrears are continually augmented and augmenting. And it is this which unfolds to us the momentous character of the request, ''Forgive us our debts." For if the claim is enforced, the offender has no other way of liquidating it than by sinking un- der the burden in that world where the worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched. Such is man's need; and it suggests substan- tially the only true illustration of the doctrine of forgiveness, God is willing to forgive; he is dis- posed to pardon, from the infinite benevolence of liis nature. Who can doubt this, that knows " that he is good and does good, and that his tender mercies are over all his works?" Who can doubt it, who has heard that his name is " Love ?" Yet it may not be affirmed, that in his mere benevolence we have any assurance of his pardoning mercy. Goodness may punish ; nay, it must punish the ill-deserving. A good law punishes; a good judge punishes; and the more certainly because they are good. How- ever inclined to forgive the divine Lawgiver may be, and however strongly moved to acts of mercy by the tenderness of his own kind nature, justice has claims as well as clemency and com- passion. And what shall countervail these right- 234 THE MERCY SEAT. ful demands ? Reason cannot; conscience dare not. The whole history of the divine govern- ment is proof that sin cannot go unpunished. The nature of the Deity forbids it ; because he is just and righteous, as well as good and kind. His law forbids it, and stands forth a pledge to the universe that it knows no such thing as im- punity for crime. It is essential to the character of God as Lawgiver, that w herever the claims of his law are violated, his authority be enforced by the infliction of its penalty; otherwise it is no longer law, and he no longer Lawgiver. The inquiry recurs, therefore, with redoubled emphasis. Is there forgiveness with God? Is there any such method of mercy as does not overlook, but satisfies and honors the demands of justice ? Is it possible to indemnify justice, and yet pardon the transgressor ? The problem is a dark and diflicult one ; yet, glory to God in the highest, there is a solution of it. It is possi- sihle. There is peace on earth, and good-will to men, in the glorious Gospel of Jesus Christ. The adorable God, in his unsearchable w-isdom, had discovered that the infliction of the punish- ment upon a competejit substitute is, in his gra- cious method of reckoning, an equivalent to the curse due to transgressors. As such, it is accepted by justice in full satisfaction of all her demands; so that the repentant and believing THE DOCTRINE OF FORGIVENESS. 235 transgressor is in this way restored to the divine favor, and pardoned through this vicarious sac- rifice. The selected system of representation, com- menced under the first Adam, is thus completed under the second, the Lord from heaven. The eternal Son, in human nature, " the just for the unjust," is " set forth a propitiation, through faith in his blood." On the revealed and simple condition of receiving him as their Saviour and Lord, his death avails for the pardon of sin. This is God's method of pardon. Because the w^ondrous provision for its payment originated with the clemency of the divine Creditor, and flowed from his own exhaustless treasury, the debt is very properly said to be forgiven. To us it is gratuitous; to him it was costly. To us it is grace ; to him it was justice. To us it is gift ; to him it was ransom — a gift purchased by his own blood. The procuring cause of it is found, not in the sinner, not in what he has done, or can perform, but in what has been done and suflfered by another. So far as it respects the divine law, and the wrath of God as its great guardian and pro- tector, the forgiveness of the offender is com- plete from the moment he repents and believes the Gospel. " Being justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus 236 THE xMERCY SEAT. Christ;" "there is, therefore, now no condem- nation to them which are in Christ Jesus." But it is not a forgiveness that frees him from the temporary chastisements of paternal discipline, nor from many a frown of his angry Father. He is not exempted from these even by the law of grace. " If his children forsake my law, and walk not in my judgments; if they break my statutes, and keep not my commandments; then will I visit their iniquity with the rod, and their transgression with stripes." Nor yet is it a forgiveness of which the believ- er is always conscious. The Mary that washed the Saviour's feet with her tears, was pardoned before her pardon was declared ; she did not know it until it was said to her, " Woman, thy sins are forgiven thee ; go in peace !" Pardon does not necessarily imply the assurance of pardon. A pardoned sinner may labor under doubts and fears ; and because his faith is weak, he may not have the sense of pardon, and the comfortable intimation of it to his own soul. And this, in ad- dition to his daily sins, is a reason why he daily prays for pardoning mercy. He would have the evidence of pardon, the pledge, the healing power of atoning blood. It is worthy of remark, that in this prayer, the Saviour says nothing of the ground of pardon, or of asking forgiveness in his name. Socinians THE DOCTRINE OP FORGIVENESS. 237 and Unitarians have not been backward in mak- ing use of this circumstance as indicating that there is pardon for the sinner without any atone- ment for his sins. Yet is there a concession in the petition itself, not only that we have no merit of our own, but that of ourselves we cannot procure it ; we are sinners and have nothing of our own to plead. The Socinian the- ory must contradict one part or other of God^s word ; either the representations of his grace, or his righteousness. With this system, Chris- tianity has not one principle of faith or hope in common ; it has neither part nor lot with them. It was of right that God exacted the penalty of his law; of grace that he provi- ded a substitute. To Christ the pardon of his people is a debt ; he can claim it as the stipu- lated compensation for his obedience to the death of the cross. To them it is a debt forgiven, cancelled ; it is pure grace. In this petition we cast ourselves upon the mercy of God in Christ. In no one instance in all God's word is there any promise of forgiveness, either in princi- ple, or fact, except for Christ's sake. The Saviour at the time he taught them this prayer, left his disciples with the previous teachings, mainly of the Old Testament. The time had not come for clearer and more explicit instruc- tions. It was subsequent to giving them this 238 THE MERCY SEAT. model of supplication, that he said, " Hitherto ye have asked nothing in my name." They had never yet come into the divine presence upon the merit of that Sacrifice actually offered, the blood of that Atonement actually shed, and already fresh and flowing on the altar of justice. This is our privilege; but it was not then theirs. To us the veil of the temple has been rent in twain from the top to the bottom. Our access is indicated by the soldier's spear, when it rent the divine humanity and perforated the heart of God's only son. We come, not with the blood of bulls and of goats, but with the blood of his great sacrifice, which never loses its efficacy, which is always as it were newly shed, assuring us that we ask not in vain, when we pray, '' For- give us our debts as we forgive our debtors !" CHAPTER XI PRAYER FOR FORGIVENESS. "/nrgiDB n ni BrhtS; m mt /nrgiDB nut BBhta/' Such is the doctrine of forgiveness ; and it lays the foundation for prayer for forgiveness. When a guilty sinner addresses himself to the God of pardons, with the language on his lips, " Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debt- ors," the matter for prayer is to be found in the instructions of God's word in regard to the prin- ciple, the encouragement, and great object of this request. If men are the sinful and ill-de- serving creatures which the word of God repre- sents them to be ; if Jesus Christ condescended to lay dow n his life as a sacrifice for their sins ; and if for his sake God is the God of pardons ; these are good reasons why they should repair to the throne of grace, that the effects of this sacrifice may be applied, and thus may in all its healing powers be conveyed to their own bo- soms. These great truths are not only a suffi- 240 THE MERCY SEAT. cient warrant for the request, but also intimate the manner and spirit in which it should be offered. The most superficial view of the nature and objects of prayer cannot fail to teach us that such a request as this should be offered with great seriousness of mind. We would not go into the presence of an earthly prince, even though it were to solicit an ordinary favor, without fore- thought and preparation ; much less would we come as culprits to his throne to beg the inter- position of royal prerogative in the exercise of the pardoning power, without respect and rev- erence. In prayer, we go into the presence of our Maker, to solicit audience of Him whose word spake worlds into existence, and before whom '^ all nations are as nothing, and are counted to him less than nothing and vanity." We go to entreat him to condescend to hear and pardon a human rebel ; to plead at the throne of the " King eternal, immortal, and in- visible," for the deliverance of the soul that will never die, from chains of darkness and vials of wrath. It is no trilling matter to hold commu- nion with the God of heaven on such an errand as this. He is mighty to save and to destroy. If before him angels bow and devils tremble, no sinner niay take his name upon his lips, without feeling that it is a word of solemn, of awful, of PRAYER FOR FORGIVENESS. 241 gracious import. If ever the soul ought to com- mand itself into veneration and awe, it is w^hen she comes to cast herself upon the mercy of God in Christ, for the pardon of sin. To go in a careless, unprepared manner, with trifling and disrespect, or without great consideration and seriousness, or without unaffected tenderness of conscience and heart, were to offer the prayer that is emphatically an abomination. Such re- quests are worse than " vain oblations ;" they are gross insult, insolence not to be endured, were not the divine patience lengthened out even to long-suffering. There is also an honesty of intention, a simpli- citij and godly sincerity in the man who offers this request, without which he may not hope to find access. A cold, formal, listless mind when the transgressor pleads for mercy, is in ill keep- ing with the object of his prayer. It is a guilty and sinful worm who has sinned against heaven and before God, and is no more w^orthy to be called his servant, much less to be accounted his child, who sues for mercy from the dread Lord of heaven and earth, and the compassion- ate Father of all mercies . Surely, if the heart ought ever to respond to every sentence the lips utter, it is when he is thus employed. Such a suppliant may well fill his mouth with argu- ments, and urge his request by all those consid- 11 242 THE MERCr SEAT. eralions which a reflecting mind and a burdened conscience can draw from the fountains of God's truth and the riches of his grace. He will not satisfy himself with the words of prayer, but from a burdened heart will say, " I am poor and needy ; O God, help me ! Thou art my helper and my deliverer; make no tarrying, O my God !" The soul itself is at such seasons brought near to Him who is a Spirit and must be worshipped in spirit and in truth. There is earnest^iess in the man, who, touched w^ith his lost condition as a sinner, comes in sober verity to the foot of the throne, to crave pardon from a forgiving God, that bespeaks the struggles that are within. " Out of the depths," says the agonizing Psalmist, " have I cried unto thee, O Lord. Lord hear my voice ; let thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplica- tions !" The horror of the deserved curse is that w^hich he deprecates; and if he prays as he ought, a dying man cannot be more sincere and in earnest. " Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving kindness ; accord- ing to the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions !" Yes, there is honesty, there is interest, there is awakened attention and steady thought, there is eagerness of desire, that not unfrequently express themselves in ^' strong crying and many tears," when lips of PRAYER FOR FORGIVENESS. 243 clay plead for mercy from the God of mercy. Many a deep emotion agitates the bosom then. To be in an unforgiven state, is to be in a fear- ful state. Wo to the man whose thoughts were never engrossed by this great concern ! and to w horn pardon and peace, through the blood of Jesus, do not appear more important realities than all the phantoms ever crowded within the compass of this perishing world ! To be offered either in seriousness or in sin- cerity, this request must also be offered in peni- tence. Arrested attention and awakened sensi- bility, earnestness and agony in prayer, may not always be the sure and unfailing indices of a broken and contrite heart. Thousands have no doubt cried for mercy, amid the convulsive ago- nies of death, who died in impenitence and despair. A man may tremble under the rebukes of a terrified conscience ; he may weep and turn pale at the fear of hell, without shedding one tear of contrition, without one pang of godly sorrow. Penitence implies a sense of sin, mourning on account of it, hatred of it, and turning from it unto God. The Gospel is no " glad tidings of great joy" to those who do not feel their need of pardon. Pardon and a sense of sin that is humbling to the soul, stand indissolubly coupled in the Scriptures. There is something absurd 844 THE MERCY SEAT. in the idea, that an obdurate and impenitent mind ever truly, and in the Scriptural use of the word, 'pray for forgiveness. There is r^o such thing as an impenitent prayer for God's mercy. There may be the words, the agony, the " ex- ceeding great and bitter cry" of Esau; but there is no sprayer. It were an insult to the God of heaven for a man to pray for pardon, and yet continue to walk in the ways of sin and perdition. Such a petition would be implicitly asking God to deny himself. Men may regret that they are sinners, because they are afraid of the recom- pense of their wickedness ; but this is sorrow for the consequences of sin. It is the sorrow of Ahab and of Judas ; not the sorrow of David and Peter. It is the " sorrow of the world, that worketh death." It is such a sorrow as the devils have, who still love sin. There is no greater penitentiary in the universe than hell it- self; yet is there no godly sorrow there. A sense of sin consists not in a bare rational specu- lation, or intellectual perception of the nature of sin, nor in the bitterness of grief for its conse- quences, but in the honest feeling of its base- ness, a feeling of its base and hateful evil, and not an evil in its consequences only. Nor is it an abstract view, but a sense of our ow7i wicked- ness, that becomes us when we approach Him, who is " of purer eyes than to behold iniquity." PRAYER FOR FORGIVENESS. 246 Nor may the truth be overlooked, that external acts are but a small part of that over which the penitent weeps. He is humbled on account of the sins of liis heart, as well as the sins of his life. Deep humiliation of soul for his past offences, and for the present and internal power of sin are insep- arable from his every prayer for pardoning mercy. There can be no pardon granted where this spirit is not in exercise. "He that exalteth himself, shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself, shall be exalted." " He that covereth his sins, shall not prosper; but he that confess- eth and forsaketh them, shall find mercy." It is not befitting the great and holy God, even for the sake of his Son, to grant pardon to a man who has no true relentings of soul for his offences. This would be to make his Son " the minister of sin." Men would sin, that his grace might abound. The dispensing power of his gov- ernment does not extend acts of pardon to such a man ; nor has any man a right to ask for them, on any such terms. Reason, and conscience, and common sense, all confirm these teachings of the Bible. They teach us that there is a spirit of self-abasement, which is founded on a sense of personal sinful- ness, and which throws the sinner at the feet of mercy. And all the experience of godly men does but establish these wholesome teachings. 246 THE MERCY SEAT. They " look on Him whom they have pierced, and mourn ;" they are '' ashamed and confound- ed, and know not how to lift up their faces any more." They have such a humiliating convic- tion of their defilement as urges them to cry, " Unclean, unclean !" and such a sorrowful sense of their guilt and unworthiness, as constrains them to cry out, " Behold, I am vile ; what shall I answer thee ?" It is not an inappropriate employment of the soul, before she goes thus to the mercy seat, to call herself to an account, and look into the sins whereby she has offended God. The most hon- est and enlightened are in the dark as to the number and magnitude of their offences, and have reason to say w ith the Patriarch, '' Make me to know^ my transgressions and my sins ;" and to acknowledge and pray with the Psalmist, " Who can understand his errors ? Cleanse thou me from secret faults !" The life of the honest suppliant is a life of habitual penitence ; but nowhere does he exercise so true, so godly, and so deep a sorrow, as when he comes near to a forgiving God, and contemplates both his majesty and mercy. There at the throne of grace, his heart breaks ; at those fountains of mercy, his tears flow. Clad with deformity, covered with filthiness, defiled with the abomi- nations of sin that draws after it everlasting PRAYER FOR FORGIVENESS, 247 unworthiness and ill-desert, he asks "to be washed and made clean. There may be those who know njothing of these impressions; there may be those who scoff at them ; but they are far from the king- dom of God. Wo to the man whose sense of sin never disturbs his tranquillity; never puts a check on his worldly amusements and gay di- versions ; never drives him to his knees to say, " God be merciful to me, a sinner V It is no small matter to know how to find the way to the throne of grace with the prayer for forgiveness upon our lips. The man who has not felt this difficulty has yet to learn that he is a sinner. If, as we have already seen, all our de- votions of whatever kind, must be offered to God in Christ's name, and he himself is the al- tar on which every acceptable offering is laid ; there is still a stronger propriety in the appoint- ment that our supplications for pardon be offered in his name, because it is only by redemption through his blood, and forgiveness of sin through the riches of his grace, that such a request could ever have been thought of Other mer- cies flow through the blood of Christ ; but they flow indirectly, and as the consequence of his Propitiation ; while the remission of the pen- alty of the law for sin is the immediate and di- rect object of his death, and that which made 248 THE MERCY SEAT. it necessary. The appropriate work of Christ is to take away sin, and by his bitter passion and ignominious death to dissolve the bondage of its curse. True penitence has a living ap- prehension of the Lord Jesus as the mediatoi and the procurer of pardon ; it takes hold of the Lord Jesus as the divine and mighty sufferer ; it pleads his agony and bloody sweat, his scoffs and ignominy, his thirst and abandonment, his crown of thorns, his shame and spitting, his bitter cry and his bloody cross. Here it rests its plea. '' It is Christ that died." This is the sacrifice which the law honors and w ith wiiich justice is satisfied. O it is an inexpressible relief to the soul burdened with sin, and bowing to the jus- tice of the sentence that condemns it, to have the confidence that in extending pardon to the guilty there is no sacrifice of righteousness. This great atonement he does, as it w^ere, carry with him to the Mercy Seat. He offers what divine justice requires ; and only wonders that infinite love should have stooped so low as to provide itself the sacrifice, and permit him to offer another's life instead of his own. The faith of prayer is the prayer of faith. Faith is reliance upon testimony, and is founded on the veracity of the witness. " This is the testimony of God that he hath given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son." And it is " of PRAYER FOR FORGIVENESS. 249 the operation of God." There is no natural principle in the carnal mind that can produce it. It is " given" to the suppliant " in the behalf of Christ, to believe in his name." Sin is a con- tinual and unmingled lie, and has no affinity to God's truth. The faith which the sinner exer- cises in prayer honors the truth of God, and in that truth finds a sufficient warrant to deposit all his solicitude and all his burden on the Lamb of God. He has confidence in his atoning blood. Even under his greatest doubts and distress, he will not quit his hold on the God- man Mediator, nor discard his faith. Lord, none but Thee ; none but Thee ! It is a delightful thought, too, that associated as this request is with the name of Christ, it is offered in hope. Despair cannot pray. Despair has no language but its sullen and expressive silence, or its maddened shriek of agony. It is impossible to pray for pardon, where pardon is hopeless. The mercy seat is the throne of grace, and the emblem of hope. No good comes of despairing of mercy. The adversary would drive the soul to despair, that it may seal its lips of supplication : he would seal the lips of supplication, that he may drive it to de- spair. Take away all hope of mercy, and the throne which is now so attractive to the guilty, would repel them by its forbidding thunder and 11* 250 THE MERCY SEAT. its flaming fires. It is only when the suppliant looks to God, not as the Holy God merely ; not merely as the Lawgiver and avenger ; but as the God of love and the Father of mercies, that he comes near even to his seat, points to the sin-atoning Lamb, and says. My Father, who art in heaven, forgive thy rebellious, thy guilty child ! There is '' a rainbow^ around about the throne" then, and he looks up with hope. There is balm in Gilead, and a physician there. The Spirit of adoption descends upon him, and he cries, Abba, Father! God will abundantly pardon. High as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his mercy toward them that fear him. Human conception, human conjecture, human iniquities cannot measure it. " I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy trans- gressions for my name's sake, and will no more remember thy sins." It is not the voice of creatures which cheers the suppliant thus bow- ing at the throne, when it says, " Neither do I condemn thee ; go and sin no more !" Such is the spirit with which this request should be offered. " Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors." It is in the exercise of this seriousness of mind, this honesty and simplicity of intention, this penitential sense of sin, this faith in the Mediator, and this hope in abounding mercy, that the sinning and guilty PRAYER FOR FORGIVENESS. 251 ^ons and daughters of men are encouraged to seek forgiveness from God, They need for- giveness, and they need it daily. Vain is the attempt to silence the voice of conscience, much as her remonstrances may be suppressed, and the strength of her rebukes impaired by sin. No man can practise this deception on himself with ultimate success. The God of heaven is able at any moment to fasten a sense of guilt upon him that is greater than he can bear. He can do it on the bed of languishing, or under the pressure of external calamity, or in the flush of health, and in the heyday of cheerfulness and folly. There are a thousand ways in which he can take off the covering from the secret thoughts of men, refresh their memory in view of sins long past and long forgotten, and incite their sluggish conscience and sleeping fears. And they shall have no means to prevent reflec- ^ tion, or divert their thoughts from the gloomy retrospect ; but their wickedness, in all its forms of ugliness and horror, shall be present to their minds, and haunt their imaginations like so many ill-boding messengers of avenging justice. It were the part of wisdom in impenitent and unpardoned men to treat conscience as a friend; to throw no obstructions in the way of her faith- ful scrutiny ; to invite her unsparing rebuke, though she scourge them with her vituperating 252 THE MERCY SEAT. tongue, and lash them with her whip of scorpi? ons. Better suffer all this, than grieve the Spirit of God, become hardened through the deceitful- ness of sin, and be overwhelmed with still more insupportable convictions when the day of re- pentance, and prayer, and pardon is past. There is hope for the man who feels that he is a sinner. Delightful thought, that to the wri- ter and the reader, there is a mercy-seat, and an open way to it by the blood of Jesus Christ. It is good news from heaven, that " the Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost;'' that he wounds in order to heal ; that he " breaks not the bruised reed, nor quenches the smoking flax." There are no higher, no greater goodness and mercy, than the contrite and sup- pliant offender finds at this mercy seat. They are the highest goodness and mercy in the uni- verse, there treasured up in Jesus Christ, and freely dispensed by him to whoever will ask and take them. Let none be surprised to learn, that there is no forgiveness for those who do not ask it. A prayerless man is an impenitent man; and the decree never will be altered, ''Except ye re- pent, ye shall all likewise perish." There would be no meaning in prayer, if men could be saved without it. The light of heaven would be obscured ; the mercy seat, its( If the beauty and pivAYER F(jh forgiveness. 253v glory of heaven, would be tarnished ; could a prayerless sinner enter into the kingdom of God. It would be a contempt of justice, an out- rage on the very sanctuary of mercy. Is the reader, then, familiar with the spirit of this request ? does he know the relief of pardon and grace ? does he know the preciousness of such a prayer ? Where a sense of sin has taken hold of the conscience, much more where divine grace has bruised the heart, and made it con- trite, the mercy seat is indeed a covert from the tempest. Here, there is redemption through the blood of Jesus, forgiveness of sins according to the riches of his grace. Let those who have not accepted this redemption, be admon- ished that there is not the least ray of hope from any other quarter. Where the waves and bil- lows of God's wrath go over the soul, it must take refuge in this sure and safe retreat, or suffer shipwreck for eternity. It is the God of mercy who has taught us to pray for mercy. It was not in vain that he so- journed here on earth, if it had been only to in- struct us to say, " Forgive, as we forgive." Having left his cross, and ascended to his throne, his language is, " Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out.'^ You will stand speechless and condemned before his throne of judgment, if you find not forgiveness ^54 THE MERCY SEAT. at his throne of grace. Think not that such a privilege may be regarded with indifference, or such a duty deferred to a more convenient sea- son. Talk not of such a season. You may de- lay in other matters, but not here. Delay — what ? Delay becoming a man of prayer ! delay becoming a pardoned sinner ! Belay deliverance from the burden of sin, and the terrors of the law ! Belay a pacified conscience, and the sweet intimations of your heavenly Father's love ! Belay going and clinging to the ark of the covenant, as your only hope ! Millions of worlds were no recompense for the delay of one poor hour. CHAPTER XII. A FORGIVING SPIRIT In speaking of the spirit with which the partic- ular request for the forgiveness of sin should be offered, we have reserved for a separate chapter the possession of a forgiving spirit in our own bosoms. " Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.'' As Christianity would leave no hopes for the guilty, did it not reveal the truth that there is forgiveness with God for men, so it w^ould lose its lustre, did it not reveal the duty of forgiveness from men to one another. A par- doned sinner is never more justly obnoxious to reproach, than when he expresses an unforgiving spirit toward those who have injured him; and he never appears more in his true, heaven- imparted, and heaven-resembling glory, than when he forgives even as he himself is forgiven of God. The language, " as we forgive our debtors," 266 THE MERCY SEAT, cannot mean to institute a comparison between God's mercies and our own ; for the dispropor- tion is immeasurable and infinite. The injuries we receive from our fellow-men, in nature, in magnitude, in number, form the extreme con- trast, rather than any just and rational compari- son with those which God has received from us. Forgiveness in creatures is the same in kind with forgiveness in God ; while, in measure and de- gree, his pardon as far exceeds our own as the heavens are above the earth, and the ocean ex- ceeds the drop of dew. The forgiveness of injuries inflicted on our- selves, is not any equivalent for the mercy we ask of God, nor does it render us in any way deserving of his pardons; for this would countervail the whole spirit of the Gospel, and displace the work of Christ as the only foundation of pardoning mer- cy. There is a very obvious distinction between the foundation of forgiveness, and the revealed condition of forgiveness. Without the work of Christ, 720 man may be forgiven, whatever maybe his own personal character ; w hile, in view and on account of his great and meritorious work, for- giveness is imparted only to a well-defined class of men. The Scriptures sometimes specify one Christian grace as the condition of forgiveness, and sometimes another. The sum and substance of their instructions on this subject are, that while A FORGIVING SPIRIT. 257 no man is entitled to acceptance with God, save for the Redeemer's obedience to the death of the cross, those and those only are thus entitled who are Christian men, who possess a religious and spiritual character, and are radically diiferent from what they once were, when " dead in tres- passes and sins." As one of the exemplifications of this general principle, ?i forgiving spirit holds a high and distinguished place. Other truths may be taught more frequently in the Bible, but none is taught more plainly than this, that a for- giving spirit to those who have injured us, though not the meritorious condition of forgive- ness from God, is that without which none ob- tain forgiveness. " For if ye forgive men," says the Saviour, " their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you ; but if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your hea- venly Father forgive your trespasses." Else- where he says, " When ye stand praying, for- give, if ye have aught against any ; that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive your trespasses." Again, he says, " Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." Again, it is written, " With the merciful, thou wilt show thyself merciful." And again, as though the Spirit of God would sound the note of alarm on the conscience of every severe and unforgiv- ing man, it stands recorded, " He shall have 258 THE MERCY SEAT. judgment without mercy, that hath showed no mercy." We may be in debt to men as w^ell as to God, and men may be indebted to us. They may have done us injury, unprovoked and flagrant injury; as we ourselves have done, in forms so varied, in numbers so countless, in enormity so aggravated, to our Father who is in heaven. The spirit of forgiveness toward them is not a Sto- ical insensibility to wrong, nor a careless indif- ference to the injuries inflicted upon us. This forms no part of God's character toward those who have sinned against Him. There is no being in the universe so sensitive to evil, so alive to the indignity which men have done to his nature, authority and goodness, as that pure and holy Being to whom all sin is " that abomi- nable thing which his soul hateth." Not to be so were connivance at iniquity — a spirit which dwells in no virtuous and honorable mind. Nor is the spirit of forgiveness merely a restraint laid upon the angry passions ; a smoth- ering of our resentment; a mere forbearance of the outward acts of retaliation while yet the heart prompts to revenge. There is noth- ing like God in this ; nothing Christ-like ; noth- ing like the spirit of holy love, and the kind- ness and charity of heaven. Many a mind of lofty bearing retires as it w^ere within itself, A FORGIVING SPIRIT. 259 and indulges in moody silence the bitterness of its awakened and suppressed emotions of anger. This may be a dignified self-complacency in the soul's powers of endurance ; it may be deceit and hypocrisy ; but it is not a forgiving spirit. Many a proud and unforgiving spirit demeans itself thus, which treasures up injury in long and revengeful remembrance ; wishes evil to those who have injured him ; and if he is not ready to do them evil, rejoices in their calamity. - Still less is a forgiving spirit a haughty and con- temptuous disregard of those who have wronged us, as if they were beneath our notice. There may be as much malignity and revenge in the heart of such a man, as in the bosom of one who demands the courtesies of social life from his equals at the mouth of a pistol, or at the point of his sword. " Proud and haughty sinner is his name who dealeth in proud wrath." A forgiving spirit is something of loftier ori- gin; it is a noble, generous. Christian virtue. It takes its rise in that love of God and man which is the fruit of the Spirit and the fulfilling of the law ; it is made up of love and forbear- ance, united with the tenderness of compassion toward those who have injured us, and fortified by some just sense of our own sinfulness and need of forgiveness from God. In the full sense of the thing itself, it consists in the inward spirit 260 THE MERCY SEAT. of forgiveness and the outward act of reconcili- ation. It belongs to the heart, just as every other grace has its seat in the inner man. In tliis view of it, it is the opposite of revenge, which angrily seeks redress for injuries by in- flicting injuries in return. It is the inward ex- ercise of kindness and good will toward our enemies and those who have wronged us. It is an abhorrence of their wrong, yet a kind regard for the wrong-doer. It cannot be genuine un- less it be accompanied with these benevolent emotions, and at a great remove from all bitter- ness and wrath. God requires that we forgive from the heart. Anything short of this is hy- pocrisy, and is accounted as such in the judg- ment of Him who seeth not as man seeth. The language of the Saviour settles this point. '' So likewise," says he, "shall my Heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your heart forgive not every one his brother their trespasses." The requisitions of the Bible stop nothing short of the complete concurrence of the soul in these benevolent emotions. This inward spirit ought to be always in exercise, w hatever may be the character of those who have injured us, and whatever their present and future conduct. We may feel benevolently toward them with- out at all committing ourselves in favor of their conduct, or character. They may repeat the in- A FORGIVING SPIRIT. 261 jury they have done us every day of their lives, but this does not warrant in us the spirit of ma- Hgnity, or unkindness. We should love them still, and do them good as we have opportunity. It is not our place to avenge the wrong they have done; "it is written, vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord." In addition to this inward spirit of kindness, this constant disposition to forgive, there is also the outward act of reconciliation. Of this we must speak with more caution and discrimi- nation, because a forgiving God here discrim- inates. He himself is the "great and essen- tial charity;" and we have no desire to be more lavish in outward acts of reconciliation to our enemies than he toward his. His inward spirit of kindness toward his enemies never ceases ; nor should ours cease toward our ene- mies. AH the while they remain his enemies he is doing them good ; and so should we to our enemies as we have opportunity. But he is not reconciled to them; he does not adopt them into his family ; give them his complacency and confidence, and acknowledge and treat them as his friends, until they have become so. Nor ought he to do this. Nor ought we thus to re- store those who have injured us to our compla- cency and confidence, and be outwardly recon- ciled to them, and treat them as friends so long 262 THE MERCY SEAT. as they conduct themselves like enemies. The spirit of forgiveness does not require this ; Jesus Christ does not require it. '' If thy brother sin against thee, and return and say, 1 repent, forgive him." Forgiveness then, will, from its own kind promptings, become outward reconciliation. It will not be the reconciliation of words ; it w ill not be any mere outward semblance of friend- ship ; it will be frank, full, unfeigned. In fos- tering such a spirit thus expressed, no man can go too far. " If thy brother trespass against thee seven times in a day, and seven times in a day turn again to thee, saying, I repent, thou shalt forgive him." This is Christian forgiveness ; this is forgiving in some faint measure as God forgives ; this is placing forgiveness upon true grounds — ground corresponding with the work WTOught in the heart of every Christian man by the Holy Spirit. Such forgiveness as God ap- proves is alike the expression and the evidence of a disposition produced by the power of his grace in the soul that is itself forgiven. Our task is comparatively easy, therefore, as we proceed to show why the spirit of forgive- ness in men is made a revealed condition of their obtaining forgiveness from God. The rea- son wiiy a man of an unforgiving spirit cannot obtain forgiveness is, that he is destitute of all true and genuine piety. The force of this re- A FORGIVING SPIRIT. 263 mark may perhaps be the better perceived by something like the following observations. Such a man has no true sense of his own sins. It is not necessary, after what has been said in the two previous chapters, to show that the cure of sin must be preceded by a sense of the malady, and with a humiliating conviction of personal defilement. Those who are sensible that they themselves have done so much to pro- voke God's displeasure, and who constantly stand in need of forgiveness, will be slow to demand retribution for the petty injuries they have received from their fellow-men. The measure which an unforgiving spirit would mete out to others, would bear hard upon their own character. A due consideration of their own indebtedness w ould make them placable, if not suppress all desire of retaliation. The hard-hearted creditor Avho had just been for- given the ten thousand talents, and who yet rigidly exacted from another the one hundred pence, and in default thereof cast his debtor into prison, justly excited the indignation of his Lord, and the grief of his fellow-servants. Those cannot think very often, nor reason very justly, nor feel very deeply for their own liabilities, who are thus rigorously severe. It is the most lamentable of all sights to see a man who has received injury from his fellows-worm, so forget- 264 THE MERCY SEAT. ful of his multiplied and aggravated offences against God, as to go to the throne of grace and plead for the pardon of his own sins, in the spirit of revenge toward his offending brother ! A sense of his own sins never could have rested with w^eight upon the mind of such a man ; nor could he ever have felt serious and lasting solici- tude for his own soul. When one fellow-worm displeases another, the latter is cold and dis- tant ; he sw ells in self-importance ; he looks big; there must be negotiation upon negotia- tion ; and after all, there is no heart in the rec- onciliation. But who art thou that thus judgest another man's servant ? What w^onder if the God of justice should say to such a man, " Pay ME that thou owest !" Nor do we see how such a man can have any true sense of the divine mercy. That he must have made a devout and humble application to the Lord Jesus for mercy; must have succeeded in his suit; and must have some grateful re- membrance of those solemn transactions be- tween the God of mercy and his own soul, in order to be a Christia.i, all will allow. We do pray for mercy ; And that same prayer should lead us all To render deeds of mercy. How shall those hope for mercy, rendering none ?' A FORGIVING SPIRIT. 265 How do you forgive your fellow-men who tres- pass against you ? This is the test by which the Scriptures determine our own estimate of the boundless mercy in which God hath caused us to hope. It is horrible for a man, malignant against those who have offended him, to come and ask free forgiveness from God. Satisfaction to the utmost farthing is insisted on by the rebel, who, if he enjoys peace at all, must have a free pardon from Him whose mercies are great unto the heavens ! An unforgiving spirit has never tasted and seen that the Lord is gracious ; it is utterly inconsistent with the Christian hope. Unforgiveness belongs to the unforgiving; it belongs to those who are '' hateful and hating one another." Its true and primeval residence is tbe region of hate — the region of hell. The devil's malice is more excusable, because he gets no forgiveness. The pardoned sinner can afford to forgive, for he knows what forgiveness is. If others will have revenge, it belongs not to him. He has what no otherspossess — pardon from the God of pardons — forgiveness from him whom he has provoked more than it is possible for his fellow-men to provoke him. And he has too the consolation that the approving and vigi- lant eye of the Lord is upon him, and that he has a refuge at his throne which is more than a counterbalance for all that he can endure from 266 THE MERCY SEAT. his enemies. The throne of grace is accessible to him ; but the face of the Lord is against the revensreful, that he may cut them off. It is equally true that a man of an unforgiving spirit has no love to God in his heart. There is no surer mark or criterion by which men may determine whether they are in a state of accept- ance or condemnation, than love to God. And it must be owing to delusion, or the want of im- partial inquiry, if any man, w ith the Bible in his hands, can persuade himself tliat love to God is compatible with an unforgiving spirit. For '' he who loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen ?" The only thing of God which he can see and love, is this creature of God whom he hates. The only thing of God which bears his image, and which God requires him to love, and to for- give, even as God for Christ's sake has forgiven him, is his brother against whom he is treasur- ing up the long arrears of malignity and revenge. "If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar." Thus summarily do the Scriptures treat the man who professes to love God, yet has an unforgiving spirit. Never was man more baptized w^th the love of God, than the disciple who made that unissierably tender appeal, '' Beloved, if God so lovfd us, we ought also to love one another." This is the 2:reat A FORGIVING SPIRIT. 267 principle of forgiveness. If God can see any- thing in men to love, men may surely see some- thing to love in one another. If He can love creatures thus vile and abject, surely we, if we know anything of the love of God ourselves, can love them also. If He can overlook their faults, we can cast the mantle of heavenly charity over them, and forgive and love them still. If God's love to us, and ours to him, were the ruling prin- ciple of our conduct toward our fellow-men, we should not find so wide a place in our hearts for suspicion and wickedness, for jealousy, hatred, and revenge. We should not find men rejoicing in the calamity of their enemies, aggravating their calamity and their offences, and holding their persons in abhorrence. Much less should we find men in the church of God, who will not speak to each other for a whole year, dare to come and sit down together at the table of Christ, and commemorate that love to which they are strangers. To injure our fellow-men, is no proof of the love of God in the heart ; nor is it any proof of that love, to treasure up the in- jury. Nor may we overlook the thought, that where the spirit of forgiveness is wanting, there can be no honest regard for the interests of human society . The laws of Christ's kingdom do not allow any man to live for himself alone. He who does this. 268 THE MERCY SEAT. is universally despised and condemned. " Israel is an empty vine ; he bringeth forth fruit to him- self." The man of an unforgiving spirit is gov^- erned too much by a regard to himself, and too little by a regard to the happiness of others, to be a Christian man. He attaches no importance to that course of conduct which tends to -make the world in which he lives the holier and the happier. The warmth of his benevolence is chilled by too keen a sensibility to his private interests. He cares not to heal the festering sores that are breaking out, and spreading their baleful infection. His is not the chanty which " suffereth long, and is kind," which " is not easily provoked," and " meditates no evil," which " beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things," and *' seeketh not her ovv^n." Men who, for want of a spirit of kindness, can alienate themselves from the affections of those around them ; who are so sensitive and irritable, that they do little else than multiply enemies; who give up all the sweets of human kindness, for the sake of remembering and revenging some worn-out injury, and who forego all the love of friends, because they will not forgive their ene- mies ; cannot be Christians. Animosity between man and man will never cease, acrimony will never be softened to the charity of the Gospel, and men united in fraternal affection, until they A FORGIVING SPIRIT. 269 learn to '^ love their enemies, and do good to them that hate them." This view of the influ- ence of an unforgiving spirit is overlooked by the unforgiving. It is not easy for them to estimate the happiness of that community where all is kind and placable, forgiving and merciful. " The quality of mercy is not strained ; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven, Upon the place beneatli. It is thrice blessed ; It blesseth him who gives, and him who takes. 'Tis miprhitest in the mightiest ; it becomes The sceptred monarch better than his crown." How soon w^ould the remembrance of injuries be effaced, and how surely followed by peni- tence on the one part, and tenderness and gen- erosity on the other, were this spirit to predomi- nate ! And even if " it must needs be that offences come," how w^ould their number be lessened, and their obtrusiveness and malignity mitigated ! Retaliation provokes. Enmity can- not stand before love. It were easy to multiply illustrations of the truth that an unforgiving spirit is not the spirit of Christianity, and that a spirit of revenge is not the spirit of prayer. It is a trite saying, but has much point, that '' to render good for evil, is Godlike ; good for good, manlike ; evil for evil, beastlike ; evil for good, devil-like." It 270 THE MERCY SEAT. is the Godlike we should strive after. Not all the wrath of man, nor rage of fiends, could pro- voke one revengeful look, or angry emotion, in that bosom of love and mercy. Earth and hell did their best to provoke him to the unchanging purpose of destruction; but they could not pre- vent his sun from rising " on the evil and on the good/' nor his rain from descending '' on the just, and on the unjust." The earth brings forth her increase, though the foot of rebellion stalks upon it. Nor could all the fury of fiends, nor the malignity of men, prevent him from giv- ing his Son to die, the just One in the place of the unjust. His prayer for them that " hated him without a cause" was '' yet in their calami- ties." Even while he was stretched on the cross, amid their murderous cruelty and in- sulting mockeries, the last breathings of his heavenly spirit found relief from its own agonies and a palliative for their sins, in the prayer, *' Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Well has it been said, ^^ Socrates died like a Philosopher ; Jesus Christ like a God." This is the true glory of our common Christianity. It would make forgiven man for- giving and happy. It would dry up the sources of his bitter wrangling, his poignant remorse, his corroding self-reproach, his stinging shame. It would chase from his pillow those dreams of A FORGIVING SPIRIT. 271 violence and blood which haunt the man on whose wrath the sun goes down ; while it would fain bring angels of mercy to keep their watch over the head of the peaceful and forgiving. It would crush the scorpion within the bosom of the unforgiving, that stings him to madness. It would quench the fires that consume him, that he may no longer fan tliem with his own breath. It has made the only provision for the peace of men — for the peace of the world. It contem- plates the universal brotherhood of man as one of its great objects ; nor will its legitimate in- fluence be duly felt until the nations " learn war no more." No man can read the New Testa- ment without being struck with its pacific char- acter. The visions of the Golden Age would soon return, did men obey its injunctions and cease to be the avengers of wrong. A dishon- est Christian, a debauched Christian, a drunken Christian, a lying Christian, is not a greater ab- surdity than a contentious, unforgiving Christian, Men of contention cannot be men of prayer. Men whose professional calling exposes them to stormy discussion with their fellow-men ; men whose habits of life call them upon the arena of political strife, find within them, too often, such a state of mind as unfits them for fellow- ship with God. Much less can a man pray with the spirit of revenge rankling in his bosom. 272 THE MERCY SEAT. His conscience hesitates, his lips falter when he says, " Forgive us our trespasses, as we for- give those who trespass against us ;" lest he should be using the prayer against himself, and invoking a curse rather than a blessing. God will take the unforgiving at their word. The denunciations of the Bible should fall on the ear of such a man like the knell of the second death. " O thou wicked servant ! shouldest thou not have had compassion on thy fellow-servant, even as I had compassion on thee V^ Not satis- fied with having inculcated the duty of forgive- ness in a didactic form, he has put a daily prayer into our lips, which, if we ourselves possess not a forgiving spirit, invokes him to say to us as he does to the slothful servant, *' Out of thine own mouth do I condemn thee I" History furnishes an affecting illustration of the need of a spirit of forgiveness, in order to the re- taining of our evidence of forgiveness from God, There was in the church at Antioch, in the third century, a minister by the name of Sapricius, and a layman by the name of Nicephorus, who after long intimacy had fallen into an unhappy quarrel, and carried it so far that they would not speak t- eacn other when they met. After a while ^Nicephorus relented, and took every measure for reconciliation, but in vain. He even threw himself at the feet of his former friend, and en- A FORGIVING SPIRIT. 273 treated forgiveness for the Lord's sake, but ■without effect. About this time, a new storm of persecution arose, and Sapricius was marked out as one of the victims. The magistrates ordered him to obey the Emperor, and sacrifice to the heathen god. But he appeared ready to witness a good confession, and replied in an ex- pression of his higher allegiance to the King of kings, " Perish idols, which can do neither harm, nor good V The torture was applier'^ and he bore it firmly. The magistrate then commanded him to be beheaded, and while he was led out to execution, Nicephorus followed him, entreat- ing his forgiveness. But it was in vain ; Sapri- cius' unforgiving temper remained to the last. At this juncture did the Saviour make good his word, " If ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Heavenly Father forgive your trespasses." For at this trying period, all Sa- pricius' firmness forsook him ; the fear of death overpowered him, he recanted, and saved his life, while seemingly on the point of seizing the crown of martyrdom. While at the same time the Saviour's faithfulness was remarkably ex- pressed toward the individual who had mani- fested a forgiving spirit. Nicephorus, annoyed at so unexpected a change in Sapricius, exhort- ed him to adhere to the faith, but in vain. And then himself flaming with zeal for the Christian 2^4 THE MERCY SEAT. cause, so dishonored, turned to the executioners and said, '' I believe in the name of the Lord Jesus, whom he has renounced." This was re- ported to the Emperor, and Nicephorus received the crown of martyrdom ! We cannot rely upon the divine* mercy for ourselves, w hile in- dulging an unforgiving and unchristian spirit toward others. O that the divine pattern of our blessed Mas- ter were more constantly before the eye of his own followers ! That meek and forgiving spirit of his, like '' the angel standing in the sun/' was the brightest of that bright assemblage of ex- cellencies that were his vmequal adornment. The impressions which men receive of his re- ligion are, to no small extent, derived from the spirit and conduct of his disciples. Hatred, ill will, and revenge, are not the most convinc- ing evidence of the power of Christianity; and in giving way to them his disciples obstruct the influence of those truths w hich are the power of God to salvation. While on the other hand, the kind and conciliatory spirit of the Gospel, expressed especially in the forgiveness of inju- ries, wins upon the suspicion and jealousy of its opposers and extorts a tribute of respect, if not of admiration, for principles of such efficacy over the turbulent passions of men. CHAPTER XJII, A MARTIAL SPIRIT NOT THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTIANITY ''./nrgm m m ^Mb, m m /argiBB stir BBtem'' Whatever may be our refinements in reason- ing, on the question, Whether war in any instance is justifiable ? we cannot be mistaken when W€ say, that a martiol spirit is not the spirit of Christianity. '' From whence come wars and fightings among you V^ says the Apostle James; "come they not hence, even of your iusts that war in your members ? Ye lust and^ have not ; ye kill, and desire to have, because ye €annot obtain ; ye Jight and voar, yet ye have not." This is a true account of the origin, the nature, and ends of well nigh all the wars that have convulf^ed the world. If we were called upon to write an elaborate dissertation, in defence of the Scriptural doctrine of human apostasy, and the entire and unmixed sinfulness of the human heart, as it is by nature, one of our strong defences would be the whole 276 THE MERCY SEAT. subject of war. We would have a chapter en- titled, Wa?', a proof of total depravity. It is beyond measure surprising", to see how the minds of benevolent and virtuous men have been, for centuries, perverted and blinded, on a subject -which, but for maxims sanctioned by time, and customs handed down from generation to gener- ation, one would suppose were among the plain- est subjects in the world. The causes, the nature, and the objects of war, cannot be justi- fied by any one principle of the Christian faith^ or any one of those gracious affections which are the fruit cf God's spirit. We repeat the Apostle's question, Whence come ivars and fightings! In a multitude of cases, the great question of peace or war is de- tei mined by caprice or passion. The causes of war are often to the last degree trivial, and de- pend little on the magnitude of the injury received. Even as judicious a writer as I>r. Pa- ley obsen^es, that " in a larger sense, ever}' just war is a defensive war; inasmuch as ever}/ just war supposes an injury perpetrated, attempted^ or feared." Is not this a remarkable declara- tion? and does it not present to a belligerent world a cloak large enough to cover all the blood that is ever shed in war I Much as some of the writings of this accomplished author are to be respected^ we do not hesitate to say, tha< a A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 277 more corrupt, pestilent, atrocious sentiment has rarely been advanced than this. It is an indeli- ble blot on the page of Archdeacon Paley's Moral Philosophy. If an injury be either perpe- trated, attempted, or even feared., there is just cau'^e of war ! The injured, or suspicious, or ambitious nation is, of necessity, the sole judge of the injury perpetrated, attempted, or feared. This wide range of " precaution, defence, or re- paration," w^ould have better suited the " Moral Philosophy" of such a man as Robespierre or Napoleon. No wonder the nations go to war. It would be an amusing chapter, to specify some of the causes of war, though it would not be a short one. The Roman ambassador once received an insult in the city of Corinth; and the consul, Mummius, w^as immediately sent with an army, and the city was destroyed An idle jest of Philip, the King of France, utter- ed against William I., of England, sent fire and sword into the kingdom of the heedless offender. In the reign of Edward I., a bitter conflict was carried on between France |^d England, which originated in a personal quarrel between two seamen at Bayonne. The reign of Edward II., of England, was one of continual warfare, and for causes which brand the tyrant's name with exe- cration. Sir W. Moles worth stated in the British Parliament, last year, that the war 27S THE MERCY SEAT. with the Kaffirs, in India, which cost the British nation §12,000,000, was occasioned by the loss of one axe and two goats, which were alleged to have been stolen by the Kaffirs. Dr. Paley did not seem to perceive, that the views he has published to the world would amount to a justification of most of the wars, and many of the vilest and wickedest, that ever scourged the human race. Powerful and ambi- tious rulers, and restless and avaricious people, often wish for war. Furnished with so wide a limit of permission, they could not wish for more. The object of Cyrus was to free the world from the tyranny of the Assyrian empire, and to avenge the injuries of the Medes and Persians. Alexander sought to revenge the several Persian invasions, and expecially the death of his father. The Peloponnesian war w^as to free the States of Greece from the haughty domination of Pericles, and the alarming ascendency of Athens. The Punic war was to redress innumerable injuries, real and great. The Macedonian war had much of " reparation and precaution" at bottom. Csesar's wars on Gaul were, on the same princi- ple, just wars, from causes as ancient as Porsen- na and Brennus. And as to Csesar and Pompey's w^ar, their object was to free Rome from an odious tyrant, evidently aiming at sovereign power. The wars of Charles and Francis were A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 279 very just, as they were designed to redress all manner of injuries. Napoleon's wars, too, were all very just, for their object was to break down the despotism of Europe. England's war with Napoleon was just, for she feared his power. The immense latitude given by some writers to the definition of defensive war enables it to embrace most of those wars which are properly and strictly offensive, unwarrantable, and odious in the sight of God. It amounts to a vindication of all w^ars whatever, as full and com- plete as the most sanguinary and despotic tyrant could desire. The phrase defensive ivar, when stripped of the cobwebs in w hich the subtleties of political cas- uists have entangled and enwrapped it, when narrowed down from those almost unmeasured limits, given it for the purpose of an equitable pretext to justify every project of ambition, means, a war made to meet and repel an invading foe. The sound of a word leads to a radical error on this subject. A war whose prime object is the defence of something or other, is not cer* tainly, therefore, a defensive war. Never was greater perversion of language. A war to de- fend the honor of a king, a minister, an ambas- sador, or even a kingdom, is no more a defensive war than a war to defend the honor of a cour- tier's mistress, or a lady's lap-dog. The diplo- 280 THE MERCY SEAT. matic science is easily capable of changing right into wrong and Avrong into right, on the most ex- tensive scale. The presence of invading ene- mies or armies, is the true and only cause of defensive war. The nation that w^ages offensive w^ar — that first throws down the gauntlet — that first falls upon its neighbor with fire and sword, ought to weigh well the causes in the balance of the sanctuary. For there is not a life taken in war that is not as truly chargeable to some one as the premeditated murder. Men, alas ! lose themselves in the splendor of vain and pompous theories, and forget that the value of human life cannot be thus done away by the momentary and artificial structure of civil government, to be dis- solved by the stroke of death, when every soul is handed over to the immutable retributions of eternity. God no further approves of human governments, than as they exert their influence for the security of life and the promotion of sound morality and true happiness. Admit that one nation injures another. Per- haps the injury is trifling, and had better be en- dured than resort to war for redress. It is also altogether uncertain whether redress can be obtained by war, the events of which cannot be foreseen. In the history of most, if not all the wars ever undertaken for redress of injuries, it will be found that few terminated with com- A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 281 plete success. They have sometimes termi- nated in the ruin of one, and sometimes of both belligerents. When the injured nation was the weakest, she has generally fought to redress in- juries, and then made peace to avoid greater. Generally speaking, the nation w'hich makes war to obtain the redress of injuries, is infallibly cer- tain of sustaining more injury in the progress of the war, than she w^ould by the injury continued. She will lose more than she will gain, and perhaps fail of redress at last. As to the na- tion who is the aggressor, the war made by her will plunge thousands in misery, who are no more accountable for the aggression than the people of another world; — it may chiefly fall on those who are most innocent and most deserv- ing. The aggression, too, may be of a very doubtful nature. The charge may be abated by the plea of right on the part of the supposed offender ; and it may be a case about which the ablest civilians and jurists may differ in opinion. And in most, if not in all cases, the whole con- troversy may be adjusted by amicable negotia- tion or arbitration, without recourse to the shed- ding of blood. "Who can reflect on the evils of war itself, and on the motives and causes which, with very few exceptions, produce it, and not be filled with horror at the immense weight of guilt THE MERCY SEAT. which must attach to the authors of it ? Is the divine government so feeble, short-sighted, par- tial, and absurd, as to justify the destruction of cities, the death of millions, the exterminating of nations, on account of some supposed or real indignity offered to some crowned and sceptred wretch, perhaps a greater villain than any one of the millions over w hom he reigns ? Is this Christianity ? How will the righteous and al- mighty Judge one day determine these ques- tions ? What is ivar ? To many this may seem an unnecessary question. War, as understood by the mass of mankind, is a state of conflict be- tween two nations, in which battles are won, towns taken, men wounded and slain; bringing glory and profit to the victor, and dishonor and loss to the vanquished. This however is but ■ an imperfect definition of war. The favored land where a kind providence has determined our residence, has, with the single exception of the short conflict with Great Britain, and the recent and more bloody war with Mexico, for so long time enjoyed the blessings of peace, that there are a few now living among us who know anything of the stern realities of a state of war- fare. Europe, also, exhausted by the wars of the French Revolution, the consulate and the empire, has, until her recent internal agita- A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 283 tion, for a period of thirty years, rested on her arms. It has been our allotment to live in a most wonderful period of the world, a period of rapid improvement in arts and sciences, of grow- ing population, enterprise and wealth ; of almost undisturbed tranquillity and joy. Few genera- tions of men have been born to such a period, or under such radiant skies. The great mass of our citizens have never witnessed the scenes of havoc. We glean our knowledge of this scourge of the world from the glowing pages of history, where its fairest and boldest lineaments are depicted ; and where, fascinated by the brilliant qualities of its heroes, we are borne along upon the swelling tide of the narrative, and do not note the dire details of its devasta- tion. The fire and eloquence of the historian inspire us w ith emotions kindred to those which move the combatants themselves. The chances of battle, — the shock, the retreat, the rally, the rout, are delineated before our eyes; but the clash of arms, the roar of cannon, the shout of victory, drown the cry for mercy, the groan, the death-struggle. Eager to follow the current of victory, we do not pause upon the field of battle after its terrible splendor has passed away. Nor do we linger in the ruined town or deso- late hamlet; nor walk the feverish hospital, crowded with the wounded and dying. It is 284 THE MERCr SEAT. but the mask, the outside show, that we con- template ; its deformities escape us. Let us draw near to yonder field, canopied with smoke, as if, conscious of its horrors, it would fain hide itself from the light of day. Let us enter the veil where at every step the foot stumbles against a corpse — heaps upon heaps they lie, son and sire, horse and rider, the dead and the dying. These are War's victims — all prostrate, broken, and shivered to pieces under the stroke. Here, still breathing, is the youth giving his last thoughts to his mother and his home. Yonder is the gray-haired veteran, mur- muring the names of wife and children. Groans here ; curses there ; there supplications ; every- where agony and desolation. The living have marched on ; the dead and the dying are left where " the eagles are gathered together," and the hungry beasts of prey are roaming. No kind hand is there to staunch the flowing blood, to bathe the hot brow. They are far from home ; their burying-place is the plain where they have fallen. Look at the field of Borodino after the dread- ful battle fought there by the French and Rus- sians ; a surface of nine square miles covered with killed and wounded ; eighty thousand men lying dead on the field ! Fifty thousand cumbered the ground after the battle of Ey- A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 285 Jau ; at Fontenoy, a hundred thousand ! The " Thirty Years' War," it is computed, reduced the population of Germany from sixteen millions to four millions, thus taking twelve out of every sixteen of the inhabitants. Thirty thousand vil- lages and hamlets were destroyed during the same w ar, w ithout numbering cities and larger tow^ ns. At the close of the w^ar of 1756, commonly call- ed " The War of the Succession," twenty neighboring villages w ere found utterly destitute of man or beast. But to count those who fell in battle is to number but a trifling portion of the victims. Hardship, disease, and famine, destroy more than the engines of battle. " War has means of destruction," says Dr. Johnson, " more formi- dable than the cannon or the sword. Of the thousands and tens of thousands who perish, a very small part ever feel the stroke of the en- emy." It has been computed by Edmund Burke, that thirtij-five thousand millions of the human family have fallen by war and its attend- ant evils — more than one-fifth part of the entire race. And this computation was made almost a century ago. The collected ruins of all the vic- tims which, in different lands, and climes, and ages, have fallen before this dreadful scourge, would form a pile raised to the heavens. 286 THE MERCY SEAT. " Each valley tells that thousands cease to breathe ; Death rides upon the sulphury Siroc, Red battle stamps his foot, and nations feel the shock." This scourge wears new horrors, when she draws nigh the abodes of men. The bursting shell is hurled amid the dwellings of peace; the devouring fires run from roof to roof. Night and day pour unceasingly the " iron shower/' start- ling the babe, the mother, the aged. Famine stares those in the face, who till now never knew want. The hungry roam about the streets, cry- ing for food. The ties of nature and of love are rent asunder; hunger knows no mercy. The infuriate foe, maddened by resistance, and drunk with victory, forces his way into the devoted city, plundering and murdering its inhabitants, and changing it into one vast theatre of lust and carnage. Crimes, dreadful to think of, too horrible to name, are perpetrated where, a few weeks before, citizen walked peacefully with citizen, husband with wife, youth with maiden. The bonds of military dis- cipline are then unloosed. The very officers then dare not put their authority to the test. Often, inspired with the basest passions them- selves, they do not care to do it. " Come again in an hour," replied Count Tilly, the Bavarian general, to some officers who endeavored to per- suade him to check the cruelties of his soldiers, A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 287 after the storming of Magdeberg, *' come again in an hour, and I will see what I can do. The soldier must have some reward for his danger and his toil." In less than twelve hours, this populous, strong, great city, one of the finest in Germany, lay in ashes, with the exception of two churches and a few hovels. More than six thousand corpses were thrown into the Elbe, merely to clear the streets for the general's entrance. The whole number of slain was computed at thirty thousand. Napoleon, speaking of himself, says, " Pavia is the only place I ever gave up to pil- lage. I had promised it to the soldiers for twenty-four hours ; but after three hours, I could bear it no longer, and put an end to it." The waste of property in war is not easily estimated. The swords of soldiers reap the harvests; their horses' hoofs leave not an ear of corn nor a blade of grass for those w^ho sowed and planted, and Avho might have reaped in peace. The physical strength of a nation — its young men and men in the vigor of life — is "cbstracted from useful and profitable em- ployment, and devoted only to augment the r-v-ouiii of human suffering. The direct ex- penses of war would civilize, evangelize, and enrich the world. An able writer in the eastern .'tates remarks, that '' the wars of the American P evolution cost England six hundred millions of 288 THE MERCY SEAT. dollars; tliat in the wars occasioned by the French Revolution, she spent more than jive thousand millions;'' and that '' the wars of Chris- tendom, during only twenty-two years, cost, merely for their support, not much less than^^- teen thousand millions of dollars.'' But this is not all. The immoral tendency, and demoralizing effects of war, more than all things else, show that it is one of the great engines of ruin employed by that subtle and revengeful Fiend who goes about to deceive and destroy the nations. What multitudes, during a single campaign, surrender themselves to a state of license which is destructive of vir- tue and morality, and baneful to the souls of men ! The sacred stillness of God's day of holy rest is disturbed, churches are broken up, families scattered, schools dispersed, and courts of justice not unfrequently dissolved. Conquered nations are not wont to receive their religion from their conquerors ; rather do they imitate their vices. Falsehood, rapacity, cruelty, sexual pollution, and every form of irreligion and immorality, are the acknowledged characteristics of an army of soldiers. " We cannot," says Lord Clarendon, " make a more lively representation and (rmblem to ourselves of hell^ than by the view of a king- dom in war." " I abominate war," says Lord Faulkland, "as unchristian. I hold it to be the A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 289 greatest of human crimes. I deem it to include all others — everything which can deform the character, alter the nature, and debase the name of man." " War," says Robert Hall, *' reverses, with 'respect to its objects, all the rules of morality. It is nothing less than a tem- porary repeal of the principles of virtue. It is a system out of which almost all the virtues are excluded, and in which nearly all the vices are included. Whatever renders human nature amiable, or respectable, w hatever engages love, or confidence, is sacrificed at its shrine." Nor are these enormities limite^l to the camp, or the field of battle ; they survive actual warfare and desolate the abodes of returning peace. *' War makes villains, and peace brings them to the gallow^s." War introduces, in a single year, a series of evils, and those habits and customs of wickedness, which the gospel cannot rectify and remove in half a century. Nor should it be forgotten, that while war is the greatest, it is the most unblushing scourge inflicted upon humanity. Other crimes shun the light, and creep into holes and corners. This, almost alone, walks proudly abroad at noonday, parades its " pomp and circumstance" before the eyes of the world, blazons its deeds, and boasts of its victims. It invites the gaze, as if it were the benefactor of the human race, and with 13 290 THE MERCY SEAT. a front of brass and a tongue red with blood, claims the honors due to virtue alone : as if to ruin were better than to save ; to destroy, than to build up ; to lay waste the earth, than to peo- ple it, and to till and clothe it with verdure ! If war has its glories, they are fearful glories. To one who does not look beyond the surface, it may be a thrilling and inspiring spectacle, to be- hold a band of warriors advancing, in compact and serried column, against the foe, closing up their ranks as comrade falls, marching fearlessly through the storm of musketry and cannon, and amid flowing blood and the crashing of human bones, looking death in the face with indiffer- ence. We see here a semblance of heroism: the calmness of a resolved devotedness and self- sacrifice meets the eye. We do not see their fury, their thirst for slaughter. Just as the re- finement of polished intercourse covers many a crime with the veil of grace, hides bitter hatred behind a smile, and scorn with the form of cour- tesy and compliment, so the discipline of warfare has measured the soldier's step, regulates his every motion, and restrains that impetuous fury which is the natural expression of his cruel trade. A smile glances from eye to eye, a jest is upon the lip ; but the purpose of their heart is butchery. Their bright arms aiid decorations flash in the sun ; their plumes wave to the A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 291 wind; but they are about to bathe them in hu- man blood. Strip them of these masks, clothe them in a garb suited to their fearful mission; and the eye is turned from the scene in disgust. We have but removed the outside show, which covers the reality, and behold them in their true deformity. War is not the beating drum, the clashing cymbal, the plume, the scarf, the em- broidered garment. • War is the blow", the wound, the agonizing cry, the butchery. t Modern w arfare has the art to cast a garb of grandeur, and beauty, and science, over those who perpetrate her cruel deeds. The foul- est deeds are varnished by the fairest names. " One murder makes a villain ; millions a hero.'" The skill that w inds the huge arms of w^ar around a negligent foe is baptized by the scientific name oi strategT/ ; the effective energy that strangles him in their grasp, and that falls crushing like a ponderous hammer upon a band of human beings, is military tactics; the butch- ery of thousands is an exploit. But from every reeking battle-field a voice comes to heaven protesting against the glories of war. When the blood there shed is demanded at man's hand, it is in vain for him to answer, " Am I my brother's keeper ?" And sad and sole benefit of war! the grass grows more luxuriantly over tbe mouldering victims. As the peasant ploughs 292 THE MERCY SEAT. up the bones of the slain, he smiles and thinks of his harvest — the richer for the blood of battle. With strong propriety also the question forces itself upon us, Where will it end? A child may unchain a wild beast; but the strength of many men will not bind him again. It is easy to com- mence war, but it is beyond the power of man to guide its course, restrain its outrage, or bring it to a^successful issue. The voice of reason makes but a faint impression on minds infatu- ated by a war spirit. Ambition is easily ripened into anger, anger easily becomes malevolence, and is executed in revenge. No mind can cal- culate the next blow, no forethought predict the extent, the progress of the carnage, when the dark deed is perpetrated that first sheds human blood. We cannot say, "Thus far shalt thou go, and no further." Once loose this demon of desolation, and his ravages are beyond control. We may weep rivers of sorrow for conjuring up the destroyer, but our regrets will not banish him. It has been said by one of the most distin- guished men in Great Britain, that in the event of a war between that country and the Uni- ted States, " it will be a short war;" mean- ing that the whole strength of that mighty na- tion would be exerted to crush us in the outset. He who utteied these words is the most re- nowned and indomitable warrior of the age, A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 293 and one whose opinion, in matters which con- cern the military art, is entitled to great weight. Yet he must have strangely forgotten the teach- ings of history, or he never would have ex- pressed a sentiment so presumptuous. Others before him have thought as arrogantly as he, and have dreamed of easy victories and short wars, when they were doomed to experience defeat and disaster from an enemy they de- spised. Thus thought the Emperor Leopold; thus thought Charles of Burgundy, when with their numerous hosts they advanced to attack the ill-armed Swiss. But the battles of Sem- pach, Granson, and Marat, laid the pride of their chivalry in the dust. When Prussia and Austria united to force revolutionary France to replace her king upon his throne, they imagined that the war would be a short one. But the flame then kindled ravaged Europe a quarter of a century. England, Russia, Spain, Italy, Hol- land — nay, every country in Europe became in- volved in the conflict. Egypt and America felt the shock of battle. No man may presume to say, that any war will be of short duration. The delusion is extreme. The error lies in miscalculating the power of the war spirit. Men will make every sacrifice and run every hazard, when once the hearts of a whole people are in the conflict. It is not for the pal- 294 THE MERCY SEAT. try interests of ambition or gain, that they con- tend. What motives of national advancement, or individual profit would have induced Holland to open her dykes, and submerge her fields with the waters of the ocean ? Yet, to resist the haughty Lewis, she called in the raging sea to stay the progress of the invader, and freely gave up her harvests and the homes of her peasantry to be pillaged by the waves ; while her metrop- olis stood an island in the midst of the surround- ing desolation. Once arouse the w^ar spirit, and there is no sacrifice that is not made readily, cheerfully; no danger that is not braved with joy. Private convenience and profit, life itself, are cast freely into the scale in which hangs trembling the questions of victory or defeat. If overthrown, like Anta3us, the combatants fall upon their mother earth, and rise invigorated from the contact; if defeated, they retire to the fortresses of the hills, and rocks, and forests; there they weep awhile, and then descend affain to the strife. The march of war is not to be confined to the wishes and plans of men. Nations may be convulsed, thrones and repub- lics overturned, institutions long dear and cher- ished may be levelled with the dust, ere peace return, by her tardy process to undo what war has done. " The beginning of strife is like the letting out of water." Universal desolation may A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 2^% cover the fairest land, crush its growing ener- gies, unhinge the whole frame-work of society, and cast it centuries backward in the path of civilization, before what many a sanguine tem- perament deemed would be a short war, is ter- minated. It may be the peculiar province of tne poli- tician and the statesman to instruct his fellow- men in matters of political moment, and so far as it concerns their expediency and equity accord- ing to the code of nations ; but to weigh them in the balance of Christian justice, to test them by principles of expediency which concern the rela- tions of man to his Maker, cannot be considered as lying out of the sphere of Christianity itself. They belong to Christianity, and to Christianity alone. And what is Christianity ? It is the system of doctrines and precepts taught by Christ, and recorded in the Sacred Writings. What is a Christian, but a true disciple of this divine Teacher ; one who believes these truths, obeys these precepts, imbibes the spirit, and studies to follow the example of his divine Master? Is w^ar consistent with these teachings, this spirit, this example? Can it be that* we have mistaken the nature of Christianity, when we say that its mission is a pacific mission, universally pacific ; so that just in the proportion in which its spirit ^6 THE MEKCr SEAT, is imbibed, and its principles acted out, will wars '' cease unto the ends of the earth ?" The appropriate influence of Christianity, upon all the g'reat questions of peace and war, is a subject in which even monarchical and despot- ic governments have an interest; still more is it one in which those lands ou^ht to feel an in- terest, whose government is of a popular charac- ter. Government is the ordinance of heaven; but the w^ay and form in which it is administer- ed, is of man's selection. The right of the strongest is a right only when it is that of the best, and belongs but to one Being in the uni- verse. The American people are not only a free, but a Christian people. They are not Pa- gan, nor Mahomedan, nor Jewish, nor Infidel. Our laws, and the common consent of our citi- zens, recognize Christianity as the religion of the land. Our Sabbaths, our Bibles, our churches, the course of public instruction, the form of our judicial oath, all proclaim, that as a nation, we reverence the dictates of Christianity, and acknowledge their excellence and sanctity. Our national prosperity, and the influence w^e exert on other lands, depend on our maintaining a Christian character. It emphatically becomes us, in consulting the interests of our common country, and the higher interests of the great A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 297 family of nations, to take counsel concerning them as a Christian people. With the broad teachings of Christianity be- fore me, I do not see how a belligerent nation can be a Christian nation. It is a foul blot upon the otherwise fair escutcheon of some professedly Christian lands, that they are dis- tinguished for their martial spirit, and their love of conquest. God forbid that the American people should ever be ambitious of such su- premacy ! Christianity is the law of nations, because it is the law of God for the government of the na- tions, because it is the law of individual man. Never was there a greater delusion, than that what is wrong for men, is right for nations. No collective numbers of men may disclaim their dependence on God, or their responsibility to him, any more than a single individual ; nor have they a right to consult their own influence and aggrandizement, any more than a single in- dividual has to do the same thing. Yet the in- dividual who allows this to be his ruling passion, is universally despised and condemned; while there is something so great and imposing in the spectacle of a nation thus exalting itself, and at any hazard, that it is too apt to be commended even for its most grasping ambition. In the sight of God, "all nations are as a drop of a bucket," 13* 298 THE MERCY SEAT. and he " taketli up the islands as a very little thing." The many may not do wrong, where the few may not do it. God is the Governor of the nations ; he holds them in his hands, as clay is in the potter's hand; and just as they make his laws the rule of their policy, or tread them under their feet, shall they become the specta- cles of his goodness and care, or read to the world the lessons of his just vengeance. We cannot implicitly subscribe to the views of many excellent and philanthropic men, who are persuaded that no emergencies may arise, when it is right for Christians to make the solemn appeal to arms. It may not be forgotten, that we cannot have a particular and explicit declaration in the Bible for every kind or degree of national intercourse, any more than for the regulation of every circumstance of life. It is the property of every rational proposition to lead to deductions, and to be answerable for them. The Holy Scriptures become bound for every inference fairly drawn from them; be- cause it is an essential part of truth, that what is deduced from truth, is really so. Purely aggres- sive war is murder, and subjects the perpetrators to the penalty, " Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." I need not say, that Christianity will be slow to perform this work of death. She will kneel long at the A MARTiAL SPIRIT. 299 mercy seat, before she dashes the last tear from her eye, puts her helmet on, and makes bare her arm for war^ Her appeal to the God of bat* ties will be made with fear and trembling; while the arm that ti-embles before heaven, will not be the weaker in sight of the foe. But this is not the law of Christianity; it is the exception which the Author of Christian* ity has made to his own law. The spirit and tendencies of Christianity are all on the other side of the question. ^^ God hath made of one blood all nations of men to dwell on the face of Che eartk" Born and nurtured they may be in different climes, governed by different laws, speaking different languages, possessing different i-eligions, and occupying different ranks among the nations of the earth; yet are they the children of the same common parent, brethren of the same common family. The great God has given to them all, the endowments, the charac- ter, the susceptibilities, wants, and responsibili- ties of men. He has made them mortal, and clothed them with immortality. He has consti- tuted their social relations, and is himself the Author of their mutual dependencies. He has given them this wide and beautiful earth, as the place of their common habitation; and the law by which he requires their intercourse to be regulated is, that they shall love and treat one 800 THE MERCY SEAT. another as brethren. Not more certainly are the members of the same individual family under obligations to express this fraternal spirit^ than the gi-eat family of nations. The bond is the same under all the varieties of their exist- ence, and in all the outward circumstances of their history, in prosperity and adversity, in peace and in war. " A brother is born for ad- versity." The more afflictive and trying the condition in which our fellow-men are placed by a w^ise Providence, the more emphatic is the ap- peal they make to the sympathy and affection of kindred spirits, and the more authoritative their claims upon kind offices and kindly intercourse. Events often occur in the history of nations and of individuals, in which one is the injuring and the other the injured party. And Chris- tianity makes an intelligible and well-defined provision for this exigency. Her mandate is^ "Forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ's sake, hath forgiven you." The spirit of this mandate is widely extended; ft is ex- tended to man, as man — even to the worst of men, and those who bitterly persecute us. It is not limited to trivial offences ; nor to those that are inadvertently committed : nor to those that are few\ " Seventy times seven" if our brother offend us, " and turn again, and say, I repent;" so far from retaliating the injury, we A MARTIAL SPIRIT. are to suppress every malevolent emotion, de- sire his welfare, and treat him w^ith kindness. Circumstances often occur in which individuals and communities become avowed enemies ; and Christianity makes an expressed provision for such an exigency when she says, " Love your enemies ; bless them that curse you ; do good to them that hate you." This is the great characteristic of Christianity ; and where it is possessed and acted out, is a most edifying and beautiful exemplification of its power. " A brother offended is harder to be won than a strong city, and their contentions are like the bars of a castle." But bad as the world is, the man, or the nation that conducts itself thus be- nevolently, meekly, generously, disarms the op- position of its fiercest foe. Nor is it simply by such implications as these, that Christianity reveals itself as the religion of peace. Does it speak of the great God ; he is " the God of peace :" of the gracious Redeemer; he is " the Prince of peace :" of the holy Sancti- fier; he is "the Spirit of peace:" of its own great ends and objects; they are ** glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, and good will to men." Its doctrines are doctrines of peace ; its precepts are precepts of peace ; its promises are to the peacemakers, its penalties for the proud, the malicious, and the revengeful. It 302 THfi MERCV Sl^AT. does not form men of contention; the essential elements of contention must be sought for else- where. It is not the febrile, agitating, angry spirit of war ; this spirit comes from another quarter. It is not an overweening jealousy of our own rights, nor the wrangling and violence which maintains them. It is not a rigid exac* tion for every wrong. It is the spirit of amity, conciliation, and mutual forbearance. War has but a narrow space in such a code ; its lessons are lessons of peace. And the glory of them all is their universal adaptation to man ; to man in his social, as well as his individual relations; to man all over the world. What a remedy for all the malevolence, envy, love of conquest, pride, contention, sullenness, revenge, and all the arts, and subtleties, and sophistry of war- like diplomacy, is the pure, honest, affectionate, and forbearing spirit of Christianity ! War is a subject on which Christianity has thoughts which she cannot conceal, and words which she may not suppress. She has tears which she sheds in secret places for the pride of man, and for the honor of God. She had fondly hoped that the barbarous and iron age of the world had gone by, and that his reign under whom " the mountains shall bring peace to the people, and the little hills by righteousness" would effectually hold in check the warlike A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 303 passions of men. Nor is this a hope she will easily relinquish. The aspect of the world has changed during the present century. Civiliza- tion has advanced with rapid strides, and almost every relic of barbarism is disappearing from the face of the earth. The Bible is dispersed over the nations; the glorious gospel of the ever blessed God is being proclaimed to every crea- ture ; science and the arts are uniting with Christian philanthropy in the noblest and most successful efforts to meliorate the condition of mankind, and everything seems pointing for- ward to the true ''golden age." Christian men, with exceptions that rarely occur, have nothing to do with war. Why should they have ? Has its nature changed ? Is it less ter- rible ? Is it no longer the monster whose path lies across ruin and desolation, whose breath is pestil^ice, and whose glance is death ? Is it no longer merciless, iron-hearted ? Is it no longer a lapper of blood ? Would to God that it were so ! Even in our age, of every acquisi- tion in science, war appropriates some part to herself She has become cunning and curi- ous in the art of destruction. Deadly engines are framed, clothed with terrors hitherto un- known, vieing with each other in their aptness for extermination. Furnished with these, war- like nations will contend with new fury, the 304 THE MERCV SEAT. victims will be more numerous, the work more thorough and sure. I look upon the Christian church as a divinely organized society for the promotion of peace. She is, or rather she ought to be, the most ef- fective Peace Society in the Avorld. Let her cultivate the spirit of peace, and show by her own spirit, and prayers, and deportment, and influence, that she has no sympathy with that love of conquest and false honor which have filled the world with carnage. If it must be so, let her rather consent to be dishonored, than cease to be humane. Let her be callous rather to disgrace, than to human suffering. "Them that honor me, I will honor." The church of God has nothing to fear by her firm and invinci- ble attachment to peace. Even a conquered nation may be the most honored, while her con- queror is most despised. " After much occasion to consider," says Benjamin Franklin, "the iolly and mischiefs of a state of warfare, and the little or no advantage obtained even by those nations who have conducted it with the most success, 1 am apt to think there never has been, nor ever will be, any such thing as a good war, or a bad peace. ^^ It may be arrogance in the writer of a religious Book to address himself to those whom the providence of God has elevated to power. " Be A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 305 wise, O ye kings ; be instructed, ye judges of the earth !" Be admonished of the vast inter- est which the God of heaven has trusted to your hands. Trifle not with the sacred pledge your country has committed to your care ; nor peril its prosperity from motives that will not bear the scrutiny of impartial justice. The fearful reckoning must be paid to the utmost farthing. You " must die like men, and fall like one of the princes." Nor will it be any grief of heart to you to be able to say on your bed of death, " I have made few orphans in my reign; I have made few widows; my object has been peace! This has been the Christianity of my throne, and this the gospel of my sceptre." •' Blessed are the peacemakers ; for they shall be called the children of God." To men of ambition and blood, the Lord's Prayer must be a senseless service. These hum- ble pages will not fall in the way of such men. Eternity alone can make a full disclosure of their guilt and baseness who do not hesitate to advance their own political, or private ends by war. Men who would raise the sluice through which a torrent of blood may flow, that upon the deluge of gore the paltry bark that bears their interests and ambition may settle upon the high places, deserve to be the execrated of their race. Let them renounce the name of 306 THE MERCV «EAT. men. Let them wander out with the Savage, who owns no common law of humanity, to whom cruelty is a virtue, and the scalps of their fel- low-beings badges of distinction! Let them go with the first murderer, '' fugitives and vaga- bonds in the earth !" On no subject does the tone of public senti- ment need to be changed, more than on the subject of war. I verily believe, that on this matter, the minds of men have for ages been un- der the power of the Prince of Darkness. His throne is on the battle-field : glory and dishonor, victories and defeats, are alike the conquests of his empire. There his power is felt, and his au- thority acknowledged; and they are no other than the power and authority of " that old ser- pent, the devil, and Satan, who decciveth the whole worlds The maxims of war are his max- ims; the laws of war are his laws. War has become the custom of the nations, because he is " the god of this world." It were difficult to ac- count for the inveterate force of such a custom, upon principles of mere unincited and undirect- ed wickedness. Man is not naturally cruel. This arch Enemy well knows, that the habits of a nation are its laws, and how hopeless is the task of attacking them. Yet shall this antiquated custom pass away. Supreme dominion is with the " God of peace;? A MARTIAL SPIRIT. 307 and therefore this hideous custom of war, with the superstitions and corruptions of all false religions, shall pass away. His Gospel aims a blow at the root of all those passions and lusts of men, whence '' wars and fightings" come. It is not less true that it has mitigated the horrors of w^ar, than that it is destined to exterminate this prolific and bitter root of evil from among men. Let the men of peace, then, take courage. The proclamation is gone forth, "Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing ? I have set my king upon my holy hill of Zion." " Of the increase of his government, and peace, there shall be no end." " The righteous shall flourish, and abundance of peace, so long as the moon endure th." CHAPTER XIV. TEMPTATION DEPLORED. "Irnir us imt intn imjitntinn/' There are not wanting those who impugn the doctrine of pardon, as relaxing the obligations to practical godliness. To say nothing of the ab- surdity of this slander, upon other grounds, it is an interesting fact, that in immediate sequence to the request for pardoning mercy, the Saviour puts into the lips of his disciples another, grow- ing out of and dictated by the spirit of the former, the object of w hich is to quicken and sustain their tenderness of conscience, and excite un- sleeping vigilance in view^ of enticements to evil. " Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debt- ors : and lead us not into temptation ! "The sup- pliant is not to expect pardon, aside from his desires after holiness. The stronger the assur- ance he has of his own gracious state, the more earnest are his supplications for preventing grace. Just in the measure in which he clings TEMPTATION DEPLORED.* 309 to the Lord Jesus, as his only hope, is he con- scious of this hallowed work of the Spirit in his own heart. Admitted to the divine fellowship, and with an open door into the holiest of all set before him, it is most congenial to all the affec- tions of his renewed nature, to distrust himself, and take refuge in the watchful care, the pre- venting providence, and the restraining grace, of his Father who is in heaven. "He knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are but dust." He who included the request, " Lead us not in*o temptation," in the compend of prayer to be daily offered by his disciples in every age of the world, must have known w hat is in man. It is a request indited with wonderful wisdom ; a request so constantly, so universally needed, and comes home so closely to every man's " business and bosom;" that we know not which the more to admire, its matchless wisdom, or its ineffable sympathy and tenderness. Plain Christians, as well men of a more philo- sophical turn of mind, have, as it appears to us, been sometimes perplexed by the language of this request. The Holy God is no tempter. He never corrupts men ; never flatters ; never de- ceives ; never acts the part of a seducer ; never entices to evil. He makes no promises, and offers no bribes with the view of inducing them 310 THE MERCY SKAT. to do wrong. The word tempt has two signifi- cations ; one is to entice to evil, the other to try, or put to trial. The latter he does, the former is abhorrent to His nature. That pure and holy mind has no art, no craft, or cunning ; but the most perfect and transparent honesty. He everywhere forbids sin, condemns, reproves, and punishes it; nor do his purposes or his providence, w hen rightly understood, ever hold a different language from this uniform spirit of his moral government. Nor is he in any way " the author, or approver of sin." '' Let no man say, w^hen he is tempted, I am tempted of God ; for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man." Ever since sin entered into the universe, he has done everything com- patible with his own perfections to restrain and suppress it ; to reclaim and restore fallen man. But while he never tempts men in the sense of seducing them to evil, he tries them, and throws them into circumstances in which their character is put to the test. His government is universal, and extends to everything. " He worketh all things after the counsel of his own will." His providence, which is nothing less than " his most holy, wise, and powerful preserv- ing and governing all his creatures and all their actions," is the counterpart of his purposes, and the agency by which they are accomplished. TEMPTATION DEPLORED. 311 He has, therefore, a control over all those events that exert an influence on the character and conduct of men. He is concerned in their sin- ful conduct, in that for wise and holy ends he jyermits it, " suffering all nations to walk on in their own ways ;'^ in that he limits and restrains it, as it is written, " The wrath of man shall praise thee, and the remainder of wrath shalt thou restrain;'' and in that he ^o governs and directs it, in order to make it subserve great and important results, so that while its perpetrators " think it unto evil, God means it unto good J" Nor could we have any consolation in view of the wickedness of man, but for the precious truth that the providence of God is thus con- cerned in it all. Nor is there any evidence that the designs of God, either in regard to the church, or the world, could be accomplished, nor that the wickedness of man would not ultimately prevail and triumph ; had we not the assurance that the Lord God omnipotent thus universally reigns. This every good man knows and feels, and recognizes in his prayers ; and it is his happiness and joy so to do. There is a controlling power above him, which nothing else controls ; a supreme and universal provi- dence over all his course ; one at whose disposal are all creatures and all events, and in whose hands are all those alternations and varieties of 312 THE MERCY SEAT. incident and circumstance which exert such prodigious power in forming his character. These principles and facts show us how God may tempt men, without seducing them to sin, and without compromising his own rectitude and goodness. He may tnj them ; he may put their integrity to the proof. He may even permit others to seduce them ; and he himself may place them in circumstances which shall devel- op their true character, show them and others what is in their hearts, make them feel their de- pendence, and lead them, by unexpected dis- coveries of their sinfulness, to " go softly all their years." Nor is there any doubt that he does this, and in various ways. Some he tries by the vigor, and others by the imbecility of their physical constitution and intellectual capacity. Some by health, and others by sickness; some by Avealth, and others by poverty. Some by tlie adulation of their fellow-men, and some by their neglect and reproach. Some by those exposures which address themselves to an ardent and sanguinary temperament, and some by those that assail the more dull and phlegmatic. Some by the office they hold, the titles they bear, and the services they render to their fellow-men. Some by the place of their residence, the usages and habits of the society which surrounds them, the counsel TEMPTATION DEPLORED. 313 of their advisers, and the varied success of their secular enterprises. These things bring out mo- tives, and discover secret springs of action. They bring to light easily-besetting sins ; and though many of them seem to be of very trivial moment, they show the utter uncertainty of all human calculations, and how absolutely the character, as well as the destiny of men, is in the hands of God, All the changes that men meet with are trials of their character. Nero was a very diflerent man while the pupil of Seneca, from what he was as the Emperor of Rome. Solomon was a very different man in the early part of his reign, from what he was in those voluptuous periods of his history, during which he brought such re- proach upon the throne. Men do not know ♦hemselves. Hazael the subject was a very iifferent man from Hazael the prince. Who would have thought the youthful Mary, the Queen of England, the translator of the Gospels, w^ould ever have deserved the appellation of the " bloody Mary ?" Who would have supposed that Robespierre, once so sensitive to the suffer- ings of his fellow-men, that he resigned a lucra- tive office under the government, rather than condemn a culprit to the scaffold, would have filled Paris with blood ; or that William Dodd, once so celebrated for his usefulness as a minister 14 314 THE MERCY SEAT. of Christ, would have been executed at Tyburn, for forgery ? Sometimes a mere change of place, an unexpected conflict with an individual or a party, an unhappy alliance in business, or an unlooked-for alteration in public aflfairs, proves a touchstone to the character, before, which truth and integrity wither, and gives a blow to the spirit of self-confidence, which is never so renewed that the sufferer can lift up his face before the world. Sometimes these very incidents result in a well-tested integrity and honor, prepare those who endure the trial for still severer conflicts, and furnish them for exem- plary toil and sacrifices. They had this effect upon Abraham, Joseph, Nehemiah, Job, Jeremi- ah, Daniel, Paul, and thousands of others in later times. The entire providence of God, and the history of every man in the world, if minutely inspected, Avill be found to be a series of temptations pe- culiarly adapted to his character. " I have led thee," says God, to the generation of Israel in the desert, " I have led thee these forty years in the wilderness, to prove thee, and to humble thee, and to see what is in thine heart, and whether thou wouldest keep my commandments, or no." He well knows how thus to try nnd prove men, and bring out their whole hearts. They see the objects, and witness the scenes and changes hv TEMPTATION DEPLORED. 315 which he is trying them; hut they are not al- ways sensihle of his design, nor, indeed, melan- choly to confess, do they always acknowledge his overruling hand. " Thou art a God that hidest thyself, O God of Israel the Saviour!" Some of these tests are more severe than others, and men are on their guard against them; while of most of them they seem to have no ap- prehension, and therefore walk on in darkness. This searching process is all the while going on, but they are unconscious of it. The trial may be designed to bring into exercise, im- prove, and make manifest rare graces and virtues, so that " the trial of their faith" may be to praise, and honor, and glory ;" and it may show them their weakness, and cover them with shame and sackcloth. No one can truly adopt the language, " lead us not into temptation," who does not possess the fear and hatred of sin. The world in which we live abounds with seductiv^e influences. It is no sin to be tempted, unless we solicit the temp- tation. Good men are afraid of it, because they are afraid of sin. This deep and inwrought sen- timent is one of the great incentives to this par- ticular request; for if the enticements to sin were not likely to lead us astray, there would be no use in the petition. There are those who are greatly exposed to 316 THE MERCY SEAT. sin, and who have strongly besetting sins, who never pray that they may not be tempted to commit them; and the reason is, they have no abhorrence of these sins. It gives great em- phasis to such a request as this, to have deep impressions of the evil and odious nature of all sin. If we make light of sin, we shall make light of temptation. One of the most subtle temptations is that which would fain induce us to believe that it is a small matter to sin against God. An enlightened and tender conscience, and much more a heart renewed by grace, looks upon sin as deadly poison. However small, it is the " cockatrice's ^gg'' and w4ll " break out into a viper." Every man is tempt- ed when he " is drawn away by his own lusts and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin ; and sin when it is finished, bringeth forth death." And it is no abortion, but vigorous, full-grown death. Just as one w'ho has experienced the agony of bodily suffering, prays as no other man can pray, to be delivered from pain, so does he who knows by experience the evil of sinning, pray as no other man can pray, that he may not be led into temptation. Such a man is afraid of the opportunity of sin- ning ; his daily prayer is that he may not be thrown in the way of it. There is no surer sign of a man's ignorance of himself, than his TEMPTATION DEPLORED. 317 unwillingness to admit the power of temptation. A cautious Christian has lost his self-confident courage, and seeks rather for preservatives from sin, than for occasions to prove his steadfastness. He solicits rather that God would circumvent him by his providence, and on every side mul- tiply and increase the obstacles and difficulties in his way of sinning, than suffer him to fall into temptation. The man who offers this request with a be- coming spirit, contemplates his exposure. The world is full of those who have been led away by temptation, who, before they were led astray, would have said that it could have had no influence upon them. Most of the boasting among men proceeds from the want of being tried. " He that trusteth to his own heart is a fool." The spirit of self-confidence runs into temptation ; it even tempts God. It should never be forgotten that a pardoned sinner is not past all peril. " Watch and pray," says the Saviour, "that ye enter not into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." This exposure to sin arises principally from the .following sources. In every human being this side the grave, there is a melancholy ten- dency to evil. To w hatever extent this innate tendency to wickedness may be counteracted. 318 THE MERCY SEAT. it is always in opposition to the strong natural Lias of the mind. His own heart is his strong- est tempter. The system is a false one, that it is as easy for a man to do right as to do wrong. Left to himself, he is " wise to do evil, and to do good he has no knowledge." Even after every restraint and every influence, every in- ducement presented in the word of God, and even large measures of his grace, he utterly fails to subdue the power of " sin that dwelleth in him." He may feel that sin is a burden, and yet commit it. His conscience may be wrung with anguish in view of past sins, w hile this is no security that he may not commit them in time to come. He may form resolutions of new obedience every day he lives, and still live to groan under the body of sin and death. His very desires and efforts to mortify and subdue his corruptions, furnish him w ith affecting indi- cations of their power. Rarely does he go to the throne of grace, but he feels the severity of the conflict, and complains of his moral corrup- tion. It is a mournful truth, that '' the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked" — wicked to project and perpetrate evervthino: that is vile, w hen once all restraints are removed and strong temptation is present to the mind. No man knows what he may be left to do; nor what " earthly, sensual, devilish'' TEMPTATION DEPLORED. 319 device may find a place in some of the secret folds of his deeply imbedded wickedness. The source of his exposure is not a blinded understanding merely; nor a faithless con- science, nor a treacherous memory, nor a per- verted judgment, nor a wild, polluted, and in- cited imagination, nor the want of experience ; but a corrupted heart. This is the weak spot, the sore spot, the deadly plague in the human character. He knows little of himself that does not know this melancholy truth. Nor is this all. With such a heart as this, he is destined to live in a world of sin and snares, where, w^hatever his condition may be, he is tempted on every side. He is exposed from the men of the world and the things of the w^orld; from friends and foes; at home and abroad ; from the untender walk of Christians, and from the bolder corruptions of the wicked ; from what he sees and hears, enjoys and suf- fers. He is exposed sometimes from too retired, and sometimes from too social a spirit, and amid communications that are as contagious as they are unavoidable. He is exposed, where he least suspects it, and from his very insensi- bility to exposure, insensibly and deceitfully conducting him from one sin to another, till he stands on the brink of the precipice, and won- ders he has not made the fearful leap into the 32(1 THE MERCY SEAT. abyss below. His mind becomes familiarized with evil ; and before be is aware of it, his principles become shaken, his faith shivers in the wind, and his frail bark is tossed on the dark, angry sea. Just as matter acts upon matter, so mind acts upon mind. Disastrous revolutions are effected in the moral world by the contact of minds; nor is it at all to be wondered at, that spiritual life should be jeoparded in a world that " lieth in wickedness." There is a Great Deceiver, too, who is not only permitted to have the power, but is long practised in the arts of seduction. We *' are not iofnorant of his devices." He knows where and when the people of God are most vulner- able. There is no dark chamber in the under- standing, no unguarded outpost in the con- science, no defective spot in the heart, which he has not his eye upon, and to w hich he is not fertile in expedients to find access. He sports with the understanding, and would fain tempt to the belief that there is no religion revealed from heaven, no hereafter, no God. He sports with the conscience, and would fain tempt to the belief that sin is a little matter; that the threatenings of God are unduly severe ; that nothing is jeoparded by a single deviation from duty ; that others have sinned and found mercy ; TEMPTATION DEPLORED. 32 and that there can be no great peril in sinning if such transgressors as Noah and Lot, David and Solomon, Peter and the thief on the cross, were pardoned offenders. He sports with the imagination, painting in gaudy colors the delights of the ambitious in the hope of elevation, of the avaricious in their anticipations of wealth, of the voluptuous in the revelings of their impur- ity. He sports with the heart, adapting his se- ductions to every age, every constitutional in- firmity, every condition and exigency, every employment and relation in life, every hope and fear, every opinion and prejudice, every expos- ure, every season of rashness, and every former sin. There is no form of sinning which he fails to exhibit in its most alluring attractions. It is " fruit greatly to be desired and pleasant to the eye ;" the deed is soon forgotten, and never de- tected ; it is the best if not the only means of realizing expectations to which have been devo- ted years of otherwise fruitless toil. There are three things, among others, which strongly mark the temptations of this crafty ad- versary. One is the untiring patience by which he would persuade men to hearken to his sug- gestions ; the indomitable perseverance by which he employs himself with their thoughts by day and by night, pursuing and worrying, hunting and dogging his victims year after year. 14* 322 THE MERCY SEAT. until he has planted his barbed arrow so deep, that they despair of escaping his fury. The other, inconsistent as it may be, is the suddenness dfhis assaults ; the unexpected fury of his on- sets, giving his victims no time to deliberate, entering into no discussions with them, but summoning all his artifice and energy to carry them by surprise. And the third is, to keep himself out of sight ; to secrete himself from ob- servation, from suspicion even, until the " bird is taken in the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life." Such are some of the more ordinary expo sures to sin which this request contemplates The world, the flesh, and the devil, these three mighty kingdoms, in all the strength and sub- tlety of their unhallowed alliance, are, ever and anon, directing their assaults against the men of prayer, against all men, and with an unwea- riedness and success that are surpassed only by him whose eyes never slumber, and who is stronger than the strong man in his armor. Here then we may discover what it is a Chris- tian prays for when he says, '^ Lead me not into temptation." He would be delivered from the severity of this conflict; and if he may not be free from it, he asks that he may be supported. "For this thing I besought the Lord thrice," says Paul, " that it might depart from me ; and TEMPTATION DEPLORED. 323 he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee !*" This petition more especially contemplates as great an exmnption from this exposure as is con- sistent with the designs and 'will of God. In the wide range between sinless perfection and ab- solute apostasy, some degree of exposure is un- avoidable ; nor does he know how much may be needful for the " trial of his faith," for the proof of his integrity, for his usefulness in the world, for the conquests of divine grace, and for ultimately securing his everlasting crown. It is well that the history of the people of God in this particular is an unknown history, and that it never will be fully known till the day when the promise is made good, " To him that ovei'- Cometh will I gmnt to sit with me on my throne, even as I overcame, and am set down with my Father on his throne." John in the vision of the Apocalypse heard the voice, " What are these which are arrayed in white robes, and whence came they ?" It was the inquirer himself who rejoined, " These are they which came out of great tribulation^ and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." Tl^y had labored and suffered for the gospel. They had stood firm and fast in a persecuting and degen- erate age. They had not fallen, nor fainted in tlie '' hour of temptation that came upon all the 324 THE MERCY SEAT earth," but sealed their testimony with their blood. God has thus tempted thousands of his people, to whom he has given grace to be *' faithful unto death," and to whom he has awarded " a crown of life." He tempted Abra- ham by a command filled with all the emphasis of terror; he tempted Job and he tempted PauL " Beloved," says the Apostle Peter to the dis- persed people of God, " think it not strange con- cerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing had happened unto you." It is no new thing that temptations should beset them; nor is it any phenomenon in the divine government, that they should be turned to good account. " There hath no temp- tation overtaken you," says Paul to the Corin- thians, " but such as is common to man ; but God is faithful who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able ; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it." I have known those who, from a sinful confidence in their own powers of endurance, and from a self-right- eous desire to express their own meekness and submission under trials, actually desired this conflict with themselves and the powers of dark- ness. And I have seen them most bitterly be- wail their presumption. Tliough good men may come unscathed from temptations, they are not TEMPTATION DEPLORED. 325 to be sought. It is time enough to " glory in tribulation," when it comes. If God bring it, he will deliver. It is not in piety then to be a rebel; she may not then resist and oppose the will of God, but " rather count it all joy when she falls into divers temptations, knowing this, that the trial of her faith worketh patience," and that it is no loss when " patience has her perfect work, entire, wanting nothing." Nor is it any strange thing that piety, when thus un- avoidably exposed, should be the gainer by every seduction successfully resisted, every trial patiently endured. There is honey even in the carcass of the lion ; " out of the eater comes forth meat, and out of the strong comes forth sweet- ness." Thus tempted, the child of God has many a promise to sustain and comfort him. He who came from the bosom of the Father to '* destroy the works of the devil," was himself exposed to the impudent assaults of this Spirit of all evil. If he did not escape the assault, much less may we escape. Like a brave prince, he not only commands his followers, but places himself at the head of his embattled hosts, and himself breasts the first onset of the enemy. It is not unfrequently with them, after sore temp- tations, as it was with him, when behold, " the devil leaveth them, and angels come and minis- ter unto them." 326 THE MERCY SEAT. While the petition, " lead us not into tempta- tion," therefore, does not contemplate an entire exemption from temptation, it contemplates as great an exemption as is consistent with the will of our Father who is in heaven. In such a world as this, and with such a heart as dwells in man, who feels not the strong propriety^ the ur- gent need of such a request ? Nothing is more helpless than a Christian unprotected by the providence, unsupported by the grace of his heavenly Father. He is as a sickly plant, under the withering tempest. He is like the lost sheep, bleating in the lone and dense forest, or trembling on the cragged rock, pursued by sav- age beasts and savage men, and never secure, save when He who " gathers the lambs with his arm, and carries them in his bosom," maketh him to " lie down in green pastures, and leadeth him beside the still waters." It is not so much in resisting temptation, as in not being led into it, that his safety lies. Be this, then, the reader's prayer, " lead me not into temptation." Tread not too closely on the borders of evil, when there is a " highway of holiness." Make no treaty with the foe. Beware of scenes and objects, of places, employ- ments, and men, of feelings and fancies, which ensnare. TEMPTATION DEPLORED. 32? " My soul, be on thy guard, Ten thousand foes arise ; And hosts of sin are pressing hard To draw thee from the skies." If a man is doubtful of the moral rectitude of any course of conduct, let him bring it to the test, by asking the question, Is it not ensnar- ing ? Of this one thing he may be assured, that it is more than doubtful, if he cannot enter upon it with the petition on his lips, " lead me not into temptation." Listen to the counsels of heavenly wisdom, when they say, " Be sober, be vigilant; for your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour." Be vigilant, because your foes are subtle, and aim their most envenomed arrows in the dark. Be sober, because levity and folly tempt the tempter. These days of temptation will soon be over ; therefore " be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might." It is not against flesh and blood alone that you are wrestling; wherefore "put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day." " Alas ! what hourly dangers rise ! What snares beset my way ! To heaven, O let me lift my eyes, And hourly watch and pray ! THE MERCY SEAT. keep me in thy heavenly way And bid the tempter flee. And let me never, never stray From happiness and thee V ■//-SB* CHAPTER XV, THE DREAD OF SIN. ^^aSnt Mimt m ixm €mW' Men may be tempted to sin, while they may foil the tempter, and not only remain unhurt, but come forth from the furnace like purified gold. The evil they most fear is, yielding to the sug- gestions and incentives of the adversary, and suffering the bitter consequences of their folly and wickedness. It is one of the most natural expressions of piety in the world, therefore, for them daily to present the request at the throne of grace, '' Deliver us from evil." It is not necessary to occupy much time, in unfolding the true meaning of this request. It may not be supposed, that in offering it, the child of God prays to be delivered from all evil, of every kind and degree. A measure oi^ suffer- ing is what he expects. He never prays, nor should he even venture to desire to be delivered from that measure of it which his Heaven Iv 330 THE MERCY SEAT. Father sees best for him. The prayer to be wholly delivered from it were an implicit, if not expressed and direct revolt against the revealed purpose of God, as well as against his wise and holy providence, and the discipline of that covenanted faithfulness and grace, by which he is weaned from the world, and fitted for his heavenly inheritance. The design and scope of the passage show that the " evil" alluded to in this request is sin. " Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil,'' The emphasis of the request lies in the obvious antithesis. Men are not tempted to suffering, but to sin. The original word, here translated evil, is indeed of more co-mpre- hensive import, but it is quite as frequently used to denote moral evil, as that which is merely physical. The Saviour, in praying for his disci- ples, says, " I pray not that thou wouldest take them out of the world, but that thou wouldest keep them from the evil'' He was not unwil- ling that they should live, and labor, and suffer ; he had forewarned them of this allotment ; suf- fering was their vocation and honor; tribulation was that in which they had been taught to glory ; but he prayed most fervently that they might be kept from sin, and from the power of their spiritual enemies. So, when, in this formula and compend of THE DREAD OF SIN. 331 prayer, he instructs them to supplicate their Father who is in heaven, that he would " de- liver them from evil'' he means the great evil, the ruthless enemy, the deadly plague of sin. This is the evil to which they are most exposed, which they most hate, and which they are most afraid of. This is the evil which most easily besets them ; which they find the most difficult to restrain and resist ; and which has the earli- est, the deepest, and the most enduring lodgment within them. This is the burden of w hich they most bitterly complain ; heavier than losses, more distressing than sickness, more mournful than sorrow, severer than persecution, more withering than reproach, more galling than chains. This is the enemy with which they are called to maintain a sleepless and perpetual warfare, because it contends for the throne in their hearts; because if it is let alone, it will live and reign in the soul forever; and because it never dies, save a lingering, painful, and ex- cruciating death. This is the sea of trouble whose dark waters roll over them, and which, though often buffeted and repelled, may return from some unexpected source and in some new channel, and sink them in the depths. They can welcome anything rather than this. There is nothing that is the source of so much de- pression and discouragement as this great evil. 332 THE MERCY SEAT. It costs them tears, and groans, and prayers. " Mine iniquities/' says the Psalmist, " are gone over my head ; as an heavy burden, they are too heavy for me. I am troubled, I am bowed down greatly ; I go mourning all the day long. I am feeble and sore broken ; I have roared by reason of the disquietude of my heart!" Many a time are they constrained to exclaim with Paul, "O wretched man that I am! Avho shall deliver me from the body of this death V One of the most effective means of deliver- ance from this great evil, is prayer. There are, it is true, other means. Temptation must be avoided ; evil pursuits, evil associations, and all corrupting influences must be put far away. We must realize more deeply our obligations to God. We must labor for a deeper sense of the vanity of this world, and more abiding impres- sions of the world to come. We must dwell often and tenderly on the love and sufferings of our great atoning and interceding High Priest. We must acquaint ourselves more with God, habitually feel that we are always in his pres- ence, be cheerfully employed in our duty, and make it our high ambition always to do those things which are well pleasing in his sight who sees us everywhere, and from whose presence none can flee. But the great encouragement, and stimulus, and relief in all these efforts is THE DREAD OF SIN. 333 derived from prayer. Sin cannot be mortified without prayer, because it cannot be mortified without a power superior to our own — the power of God's gracious, condescending, and omnipotent Spirit. " If ye, through the Spirit, do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live." No man ever engaged in a successful conflict with his corruptions, without feeling his depend- ence on God, and his need of the Holy Spirit, to give him the victory, even over any one form of sinning. Without this, nothing is accomplished ; the besetting sin gains strength; all sin has augmented power; and instead of being deliver- ed from evil, the most holy men, so far from making any advances in the divine life, would wax worse and worse. We frequently read in the Scriptures of the throne of grace, as the refuge of God's people in the time of trouble. And what a refuge ! when from the storms of earth, they hide themselves in his pavilion. Nor is it more a refuge from their sorrows and privations, and tribulations, than a refuge from their sins. If true believers in Jesus had a more intimate acquaintance wi^t.h one another's experience, it would probably be found, that there is no one blessing for which they prize the throne of grace more than this. Multitudes are found among them who can say, *' Sin had been a pleasure, and religion a burden, 334 THE MERCY SEAT. but for the privilege of prayer. I had been among the vilest of men, but for a throne of grace. Long ago, had I been in hell with the damned, but for a throne of grace." It is here that the soul not only finds pardon for the past, but strength for the present, bright kindlings of hope for the future. It is here that she is brought into contact, not with things that are evil, but things that are good. It is here that she perceives the beauties of holiness, takes hold of the divine strength and the divine promises, feels that her life is hid with Christ in God, and while she goes on her way, rejoices as she goes. There are important reasons for this special request, " deliver us from evil." True religion is as reasonable as it is lovely. Though with every child of God, such a request is in no small degree a matter oi feeling, yet are its w^eight and importance enforced by every dictate of reason and conscience, as well as every emotion of piety. Let us direct our thoughts, in the sub- sequent part of this chapter, to a consideration of the question. Why do the children of God thus fervently pray to be delivered from sin ? Sin is itself " exceedingly sinful." It is " an evil thing and bitter." It is the poisoned arrow; the dart that most bitterly wounds the soul. One of the points of difference between those who are Christians, and those who are not THE DREAD OF SIN. 335 Christians, will be found to consist in their different views of sin. Good men view it in some measure as God himself views it. The reason why God hates and forbids it, is that it is wrong. It is opposed to his nature, and a viola- tion of his law. It is eminently the " accursed thing,'' and that which " his soul hateth." He is of "purer eyes than to behold evil, and cannot look on iniquity." He is not opposed to it be- cause he is afraid it will injure himself, though it is enmity against him, and all its tendencies are to frustrate his designs, and subvert his throne. ''If thou sinnest, what doest thou against Him? or if thy transgressions be mul- tiplied, what doest thou unto Him?" His nature' remains spotless, and his blessedness undisturb- ed ; his counsel shall stand, his throne endure forever, and he will even " make the wrath of man praise him." Yet is there nothing moie re- pugnant to him, as a being of perfect rectitude, than this abominable, odious thing. He has a quick, instinctive, and unchanging sense of what is right. It is a matter of principle with him, nor can it be otherwise than that he should be the everlasting enemy of sin. When men are born of God, and become his children, they imbibe a portion of his nature and spirit. Because sin is odious in itself, and hate- ful to him, it is hateful to them. The time was 3^6 THE MERCY SLaT. when they regarded it otherwise ; but that time is gone by. All the sensibilities of their renew- ed nature are now^ wounded by it, and it is their earnest prayer that they may be delivered from its power. It is all evil ; they see no good in it. It is the fountain of corruption. It makes the devil evil; it makes the human heart evil; it makes the world evil. They themselves know the pain, the grief, of being brought under its do- minion ; they have a painful sense of its turpi- tude. Many a time have they been subdued to tenderness and tears, have wept and bled, on account of it. It is not like other evils which come upon them, and which they mourn over, but which have no moral turpitude. Sickness and poverty, pain and death, are evils, but they are not sins. The consuming flame, the desolating flood, grim famine, the withering thunderbolt, are evils; but they are not sins. They never sting the con- science. There is some relief in contemplating these ; but, save in the blood of Christ, there is none in contemplating sin. It has no excuse, no palliation. Whatever it touches, it corrupts and makes it evil. It has no resemblance to what is right ; no one element of purity and loveliness. In its best forms, and least enormity, it is crime, dire and direful crime. With all its meretri- cious adornment, it is an evil which conscience THE DREAD OF SIN. 337 revolts at, from which every virtuous mind shrinks, and from which He who once bore its mighty burden and shame has well taught his disciples to implore deliverance. There is also debasement and shame in si/i, as well as moral turpitude. The soul of man was originally pure and holy ; it was the most amiable and beautiful object in this lower world ; but little lower than the angels, formed in the image of its Maker, lofty, lovely, and justly beloved. It was endowed with high in- tellectual faculties, with a sound and healthy conscience, with affections pure as the crystal stream. All its parts were fitly joined together, and all its separate functions maintained that due subserviency and subordination Avhich con- stituted it an harmonious spiritual existence. If the love of the beautiful, the admiration for the sublime, could be gratified with perceptions of what was pleasing and grand in the newly completed material creation, much more were they gratified with this highest, noblest, and honored work of God. It is among the basest and worst features of sin that it defiles and pollutes the soul, once so pure and honored. When man fell, this pure and lofty existence became deteriorated and depraved ; its faculties were deranged, its har- mony disturbed, and its beauty defaced, its 15 338 THE MERCY SEAT. glory turned into shame. It became diseased and defiled; a pale, sickly, debased existence. When through matchless grace, it is born of God, and created anew in Christ Jesus, it be- gins to assume its primeval beauty, to put on its vestal robes, and to shine forth in its original loveliness. Its symmetry is restored, and its disjointed and jarring faculties once more act in harmony. It makes progressive advances in holiness; habitually, though inconstantly, it is tending upward, till ultimately it attains to that unblotted excellence which was once its high- est glory. To this upward progress sin opposes the most humiliating obstacles ; it acts upon the mind just as a stupefying, or inflammatory disease acts upon the body. To a greater or less ex- tent, every sin does this; while habitual and aggravated sin does it to an alarming degree. The heart, the great moral principle, the master impulse of the wondrous machinery, itself dis- ordered, throws into disorder all the natural faculties. The understanding becomes dark- ened, the judgment confounded, and reason itself no longer compares, compounds, and ar- ranges as a well-balanced mind is wont to do, but plunges into the deepest and most foolish absurdities. The beauty, excellence, and glory of God and divine things, fade from the mind, or THE DREAD OF SIN. 339 are seen through a false medium. Spiritual things are no longer compared with spiritual; natural things are no longer seen in their moral relations ; the views of the mind are hlind and partial, and it is warped to conclusions that are false and unrighteous. Memory too becomes most treacherous where it ought to be most faithful ; and instead of being the repository of thoughts that are true and heavenly, becomes the store-house of all that is earthly, and not a little that is sensual and devilish. And con- science becomes misinformed, misled, bribed, and stifled ; or where it rises above these er- rors, brings the soul into terror and bondage. This view of the evil of sin may not impress the minds of all good men alike ; but there are those to whom it is a most humiliating view. They are conscious of the defilement of sin ; it is a melancholy, debasing consciousness. It de- spoils them of their glory, and leaves them in their nakedness and shame. It is like the plague of leprosy ; it covers the soul ; it is too polluting and contagious to go abroad without some badge of its unclean ness. There is noth- ing in it that is pure and honorable. It is a loathsome, filthy disease ; and the man who is polluted by it, does well w^hen he covers his face and clothes himself with sackcloth. When the children of God are conscious of 340 THE MERCY SEAT. having fallen into sin, even after their gracious healing, they feel oppressed with that humilia- ting sense of their vileness which extorts from their bosoms the confession, " unclean ! un- clean !" The prophet's acknowledgment was, '' O my God, I am ashamed and blush to lift up my face to thee, my God !" " O Lord, righteous- ness belongeth unto thee ; but unto us confusion of facer It is no marvel that the daily prayer should go up to the throne, " wash me thorough- ly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin !" The pollution of sin is often felt to be deeply odious and degrading ; in no words is the humbling sense of it more fully expressed than in the short sentence, " Behold I am vile /" However prosperous their outw^ard condition, and however many and expressive the tokens of confidence they receive from their fellow-men, nothing satisfies the people of God, but to be "delivered from the evil." They have no stronger desire, no prayer more importunate than that " the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth they should not serve sin." Their daily application is to the blood that cleanseth, and their daily request that God would " heal their backslidings." It is worthy of remark, that amid all the phi- losophical theories in regard to the ultimate good which sin is made to subserve, men of THE DREAD OF SIN. 341 prayer are not embarrassed with theories on so plain a subject. They do not stop to ask, if God may not glorify himself by their wickedness ; sin is too odious to allow of any such palliations. In defiance of all theory, the Spirit of God has taught them its exceeding defilement, and they cannot help praying to be delivered from its pollutions. Every emotion of piety prompts them thus to pray ; the mere impulse of right aflfection overpowers all their nice metaphysical distinctions and subtleties, and constrains them to implore, " Lead us not iato temptation, but deliver us from evil." There is also suffering in sin, as well as evil and shame. In piety there are joys. Angels find them in the pure and devout affections of their own minds ; in their delighted con- templations of their adored Author and Sov- ereign ; in their admiring views, of his works and providence ; in their growing conceptions of his great work of redeeming mercy; in their fellowship with God, and in his favor and love. The lowest and meanest seraph is indeed hap- pier in these sources of joy than the highest and most exalted child of God on earth ; yet has the lowest and meanest child of God on earth spiritual enjoyments such as " no man taketh from him." True religion, wherever it is felt in purity 342 THE MERCY 8EA'J and power, always produces the most liappy effect upon the mind that embraces it. It is the Sun of righteousness arising upon the soul after the darkness of a long and gloomy night. It is like the returning spring, melting the ice and dispelling the chill frosts of winter, giving life to the buried seed, clothing it with verdure, and spangling it with flowers. It spreads seren- ity and joy over the very countenance, lights up the languid eye, and fills the lips with praise. Not more certainly is it the life of God in the soul of man, than it imparts a portion of the very blessedness of God to the soul itself '' To be carnally minded is death, but to be spiritually mindedis life and peace." There is a love of God, a confidence and hope in God, a communion and fellowship with God, which not only lead the soul to stay itself upon him, and feel safe and tranquil, but which fill it with triumph. " Thou hast turned from me my mourning into danc- ing," saith the Psalmist ; " thou hast put off my sackcloth and girded me with gladness, to the end that my glory may sing praise unto thee, and not be silent." Nor is there anything that preventeth these joys from being constant, unless it be the chil- ling, withering influence of sin. Sin is the at- mosphere of death. It is like returning winter to the soul when sinful thoughts, sinful passions, THE DREAD OF SIN. 343 and sinful pursuits agitate it. They sweep over its calm surface, and upturn the deep founda- tions of its joy. They make it restless and un- happy ; and if their influence is permanent, ren- der it like a frozen ocean, where the ice of cen- turies has been accumulating, and every current of air that comes from it chills and freezes. The light of the divine countenance is with- drawn from it by day, and God its Maker no longer gives it songs in the night. Gloom and darkness hang over it. Its garments of glad- ness are laid aside, and it puts on its weeds. It has no longer that comfortable evidence of its interest in the divine favor w hich made it joy- ful in the house of prayer. Deserted of all but unbelieving doubts, cruel fears, a guilty con- science, and bitter lamentations, it is w ell nigh abandoned to its invisible enemies, and sinks into morbid dejection and melancholy. The Christian w^ho is even surprised into sin, linds it difl[icult to return to his w^onted enjoy- ment of God. They are suppressed aspirations of heart toward him which he feels rising in his bosom ; he is embarrassed in his fellowship ; his access in the new and living way is ob- structed ; he feels for a time like a stranger and foreigner, an outcast, rather than like the hap- py child of God. He has no comfort in prayer; no light shines upon the sacred pages of God's 344 THE MERCY SEAT. word when he opens that sacred volume ; no promise meets his iincomforted heart ; ordinan- ces are barren ; and in the bitterness of his soul, he is ready to exclaim, " God has forgotten to be gracious ; he hath in anger shut up his tender mercies !" A wicked man, a self-deceived man, a vile hypocrite, can live in such a state of mind as this, so far as he knows what such a state of mind is; but it is a state of mind which no Christian can long endure. Things seen and temporal cannot make him happy while thus shut out from things unseen and eternal. He cannot live thus abandoned of God ; he would welcome death in the assured peace with his heavenly Father, rather than life under the sor- rows of this spiritual desertion. It is not without reason, therefore, that he prays against the invasions of sin from without, and the indulgence of sin within, '' Cast me not away from thy presence; take not thy Holy Spirit from me." His very sorrows and griefs find their consolation in the prayer to be deliver- ed from evil. Sin also diminishes, if it does not destroy the Christianas usefulness. True piety is efficient and operative. The great object of every Chris- tian is to " live not to himself, but to Him who died for him, and rose again." But it should THE DREAD OF SIN. 345 never be forgotten, that the value of his re- ligious character is derived from its moral influ- ence. Nowhere is this unquestioned influence more exerted than in those humble eflforts, those cheerful acts of self-denial, those unreluctant sacrifices, and that unnoticed toil and patient perseverance in well-doing, which have the promise of reaping in due season. Sin, more especially indulged sin, is ruinous to his influence and usefulness. If even the heaven-born Paul complained that his sins inter- rupted him in the performance of his duty, who and w^iere is the saint that discovers not reasons for the prayer, " Deliver me from evil ?" " I a^m carnal,'' says this peerless Apostle, " sold under sin. For that which I do, I allow not; for what I w^ould, that do I not ; but what I hate, that do I. I find, then, a law that when I would do good, evil is present with me." He was con- scious of a conflict, the severity of which some- times unfitted him for those arduous and self-de- nying duties, and those wondrous enterprises of Christian heroism which w^ere the objects of his high-wrought and holy zeal. He was afraid of sin, because he well knew^ its tendency to para- lyze his usefulness. Those who possess most of the spirit of Paul, for the same reason, " groan, being burdened." It is an afllictive thought to them, ever to be in a state of mind in which 15* 346 THE MERCY SEAT. their duty is irksome, or their courage prostrated by self-reproach, or the reproach of their fellow- men. " Then shall I not be ashamed," says the Psalmist, " when I have respect to all thy com- mandments." When good men, by their own folly and backsliding, have brought opprobrium upon the sacred name by which they are called, when they have throw^n stumbling-blocks in the way of those that are without, and not only given occasion to infidels and scoffers to triumph over their fall, and to speak even more lightly than they are w^ont to do of the religion of the Bible, but have also furnished reason for the friends of God to suspect their sincerity ; they know not how^ to lift up their faces, they are humbled and distressed, and not unfrequently court retirement and solitude, rather than spheres of active usefulness. Even if their sins are secret, they feel a shrinking reluctance at occupying places of consideration and influence. Christian usefulness is a plant of slow growth ; it spreads itself gradually ; yet if there creep in a w^orm at the root, it w ithers more rapidly than it grew. The usefulness of a good man is insepar- ably connected with the views which men have of his religious character. Their respect for him gives energy to his efforts. Men of no great strength of purpose, or vigor of effort, are not unfrequently in no common degree useful ; THE DREAD OP SIN. 347 because they are, confessedly, very good men. Where a good man has palpable and glaring sins ; where his character is such that, though his fellow-men do not deny him the credit of being a Christian, those who know him best re- spect and love him least ; he may not hope to be eminently useful. Though every true Christian desires more to he a child of God, than to seem to be such, it is not unbefitting the truest sincerity and the truest humility, that he should desire so to conduct himself, that his fellovv*men may have confidence iKi his piety. Nothing less than this is required of him by the Saviour, when he utters the injunction, " Let your light so shine before men, that they, seeing your good works, may glorify your father who is in heaven." He should be watchful that nothing he says or does, and nothing he leaves undone or unsaid, shall destroy, or even diminish, the good influence he might otherwise exert. And is it any marvel tiiat such a man should ^sometimes feas- and tremble ? Is it wonderful that he should often employ his thoughts in faithful self-inspection ; that he should sit in severe judgment upoii his own heart and char- acter ; that his daily prayer should be, *' Hold thou me up, and I shall be safe I" '' Deliver me from evil !'' 348 THE MERCr SEAT. Another reason for this request is found in the fact, that sin is so universally destructive in its tendencies upon the happiness and best interests of the world in which we dwell. We may only glance at this prolific and mournful thought. The ravages of sin may be traced in all the course it has trodden from the fall of angels to the present hour. There is no form of happi- ness that has not withered at its approach; none of misery and wo, be they eve^' so varied and hideous, that have not followed in its train. It has made the human bosom, otherwise tran- quil and unruffled, the seat of conflict, and agi- tated it by storms. It has drowned the hopes^ of men in an ocean of fesrs. Throughout the length and breadth of this wide world it haj^ dug its valley of tears, and overhung it by the shadows of death. Its emblems are hung- round the dungeon and the stake, the prison and the gallows; they are suspended over every battle-field, and immingled with every convulsion that lias p^assed with confused noise over the earth. Go to the bowels of the earth and the chan- nels of the sea, and there are its triumphs ; it has made sea and land a world of graves. It kills the body and damns the soul. It created the walls of that gloomy prison, whose broad gateway bears the inscription, " Where the THE DREAD OF SIN. 349 worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched." There it confines the rebel angels ; there it con- ducted Sodom and Gomorrah ; there it hurled Pharaoh and Babylon ; and there its burning, malignant fury remains unquenched. Ruined legions emit thence the memorable warning, *' Beware of sin!" and were they still prisoners of hope, would say, " Deliver us from evil !" There is still another reason for this request ; it is found in the claims of redeeming love. The suppliant is one who addresses the God of pardon. He has become reconciled to him through that mighty Sufferer who hung upon the cross. God is his Father now; he would not wound that heart of paternal love. More powerful than the obligations of the law, the love of God, the love of the cross attracts him. It is not fear that moves him so much as love. *' Perfect love casteth out fear ;" and though his love is far from perfect, yet is it stronger than those chains of darkness at which he once trem- bled ; more potent than the fiery walls of that eternal prison which once filled him with terror: and by its resistless bands, draws him every day to his Father's mercy seat, to supplicate, " De- liver me from evil." His heart is burdened with the desire that he may have no fellowship with the cruel, accursed thing that tore the much-loved One from the tranquil bosom of 560 THE MERCY SEAT. heaven, dragged him down to the degradation of a creature, the servitude of a slave, and shamelessly nailed him to the cross. Sin was the crime perpetrated in the holy empire of the Most High, that could not be atoned for, save by the eternal agonies of the perpetrator, or the crucifixion of the eternal Son of God ; and shall he not hate it ? shall he not pray to be delivered from its power ? Thousands of rams, and ten thousand rivers of oil could not make amends for it; and shall he not bewail its malignity? Go forth, O my soul, and see what sin has done ! Look away to Calvary, and there read and learn the never-to-be-forgotten lesson. Go on those bended knees before the throne of mercy, and when, in the peaceful and heaven-imparted spirit of adoption, thou canst say, " My Father who art in heaven ;" say also, " Deliver me from evil !" Something like the preceding views are those of every true believer, in giving utterance to this emphatic request. The conflict of such a man with sin is very diflferent from the mere struggles of natural conscience. Wicked men are not strangers to this conflict, in some sort; but while their conscience struggles against it, they do not feel it to be their burden, but are «till controled by the love of sinning. The strufi^ffles of natural conscience are occasional THE DREAD OP SIN. 351 and partial : while the Christian's conflict with sin is habitual. His warfare is with the whole body of sin ; nor does he cease from the conflict, until at last he gains the victory. Natural con- science wages war, mainly, with outward sins, while true piety watches, with eagle eye, the secret evils of the heart, and contends with sins known only to the all-seeing Witness and Judge. The believer hates sin ; the unbeliever fears it, and only with the servile fear of punishment. The believer resists it from principles unknown to mere natural conscience. He contends with it by faith and prayer, and in humble depend- ence on his Father who is in heaven ; while natural conscience leaves out of sight the '' grace to help." When a good man sins, his conscience ultimately becomes more sensitive and faithful ; he dreads the approaches to sin, as the '^ burnt child dreads the fire ;'^ while experience and ob- servation show, that the more a wicked man sins, the more does his conscience become cal- lous and seared. Judas felt the scorpion sting of a wounded conscience ; Peter, the pangs of a broken and contrite spirit. This petition in the Lord's Prayer, therefore, furnishes one of the criteria by which every man may judge of his spiritual state. Could you listen when a thoughtless sinner prays, you might hear professions of thankfulness, requests 352 THE MF^RCr SEAT. for the divine bounty, deprecations of tlie coming wrath; but few, if any, supplications to be de- livered from sin. Could your ear be open, when the child of God enters into his closet, and shuts the door, you would hear what, in the ears of the men of the world, might seem some strange requests. You would, indeed, hear the song of thanksgiving, and the pleadings of a broken heart for pardoning mercy ; but you would hear solicitations still more fervent, to be " delivered from evil." Nay, in the seasons of his greatest fervor and spirituality, such a man might rise from his knees, without once uttering the re- quest, " Give us this day our daily bread;" while he would never forget to implore that God would keep him from sin, and make him more and more conformed to the image of his Son. Another day will show if the reader has this spirit, and thus indicate whether he is or is not a child of God. I have said, that the Christian's struggle with sin is no momentary conflict. Nor is it an unsuc- cessful one. He may not gain every battle; he may, indeed, sometimes fall, and be found bruis- ed and maimed, and bleeding, on the field; but he shall at last come oflf more than conqueror, through Him that loved him. " In the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." Spiritual affections may languish and decline, but they shall not die. THE DREAD OF SIN. 353 It were a dark sign, if the Christian were satis- fied with his present attainments. Let him take courage in the thought, that " iniquity shall not be his ruin." He is " not of them that draw back to perdition, but of them that believe to the saving of the soul." Let him study to prove himself a " good soldier of Christ." Let him seek to know, not how he may cover his sin, but how he may detect it, and how it may be subdued. " He can do all things, through Christ strengthening him." There are those who trifle with sin. They trifle with it in their thoughts ; they speak light- ly of it; they excuse and extenuate it; they commit it without remorse ; and they rejoice and triumph, when they discover it in them- selves, and in their fellow-men. Never was there a deeper infatuation than this. " Fools make a mock at sin." Nothing remains for such a man, but " indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish." Sin is his enemy. It will be a miracle of mercy, if it do not give malignity to the undying worm, and ignite the fires that nev- er shall be quenched. Should these pages fall into the hands of any one thus insensate and infatuated, let him stop in his mad career, before he makes the fearful plunge into the world of retribution ; let him " look on Him whom he has pierced, and mourn." 354 THE MERCY SEAT. Even now, the throne of grace invites him to bow at its footstool, in self-abasement and tears. No prayer is more befitting such a man, than this last request, in that form of prayer which Christ taught his disciples, '' Deliver me from evil." Let him " break off his iniquity by right- eousness, and his transgressions by turning to God.'' Let him repair to the fountain open- ed for sin and un cleanness, and say, " Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean ; w ash me, and I shall be w hiter than snow." Let him go at once ; let him fill his mouth with arguments ; let him urge his way through obstacle and snare ; let him boldly and fearlessly come near the throne. — Oh, what is this I am saying? Let him rather, like the Publican, w ho, " standing afar off, durst not lift his eyes to heaven," smite upon his breast, and say, " God be mer- ciful to me a sinner !" CHAPTER XVL THE ARGUMENT BY WHICH PRAYER IS ENFORCED. We feel no small degree of reluctance in dis- missing our contemplations upon this inimitable prayer. In bringing our meditations upon it to a close, our emotions are not unlike tliose the Christian feels in the more favored seasons when he has '' climbed the mount of prayer," and with lingering and tardy steps turns again to mingle with the noisy and bustling w^orld. Thought crowds upon thought in his supplica- tions; emotion swells upon emotion; and his suppressed, yet reiterated A?nen, while it speaks the satisfaction of his heart at the throne of grace, also tells its sadness that he must mingle with other and less hallowed scenes. Our regret at arriving so soon at the close of these meditations, is, however, not a little re- 356 THE MERCY SEAT. lieved by the richness and variety ol' the topics on which we are allowed to dwell in these closing thoughts. When Christ undertakes to teach us, the instruction is complete. He will not have our petitions abrupt in their beginning, nor altogether unceremonious in their conclu- sion. We should approach the mercy seat re- cognizing his kindness, his tenderness, his great- ness ; and leave it acknowledging our depend- ence upon him for all we desire and expect. " For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever. Amen." In attempting to unfold and impress the spirit of this concluding sentence, we may not over- look the force of the conjunctive \\'ord,for, with which it begins : this is the true key to the whole passage. '* Fo?^ thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory." This is the reason urged by the suppliants why the request so comprehensively set forth, and embodying objects of such magnitude, should be granted. In offering them, they solicit no common favors ; they " open their mouth wide, that God may fill it." They ask for nothing less than that the name of their Father who is in heaven may be hallowed — that his kingdom may come — that his will may be done on earth, as it is in heaven — that he would furnish them with the daily supply of all their w^ants — that he would pardon PRAYER ENFORCED. 357 all their sins — that he would not lead them into temptation — that he would deliver them from evil. There is great compass of thought and desire in such requests. What encouragement, what warrant even, have sinning men for offer- ing them ? By what arguments can they urge such petitions, and what reason have they to look for favorable and gracious answers to the voice of their supplication ? They are weighty reasons, effective reasons : The kingdom, and the power, and the glory, he- long to the great and gracious Being addressed, and belong to him forever. They do not pray to the idols of the heathen, who are the work of men's hands ; nor to men who are as powerless as themselves ; nor to saints, nor angels, nor yet the highly favored mother of the incarnate Jesus, who have neither kingdom, nor glory, nor any power save such as God is pleased to give them. The object of their supplications is their Father who is in heaven. It is not merely to all that is affectionate, and kind, and condescending in his paternal character, that they make their appeal ; but to all that is great and glorious. It is to the " King eternal, immortal, and invisible ;" to the "Lord God Almighty;" to the "Father of glory," as well as the Father of mercies, and " their Father who is in heaven." Prayer is not the unmeaning utterance of the 358 THR MERCY SEAT, lips, nor the effort of an unthinking mind. There is strong propriety, there is even importance in urging our requests at the throne of grace, hij reason and argument. We are taught by the Apostle James that " the effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." With whom does it avail ? Not with the suppliant, for he is the person who prays, and not the per- son to whom prayer is addressed. It has been more generally believed that the true and proper design of prayer is to produce an effect on the suppliant, by bringing into exercise the graces of his renewed nature, and securing such a state of mind as God shall approve, and to which he will grant that expression of his approbation implied in answers to prayer. No doubt that this is one of the effects of prayer; but the very idea of p)rayer carries with it the idea that its design is to act upon the Mind of the Being to whom it is addressed. Nor, so far as I can recall the instructions of the Bible, is there a single sentence, or suggestion, that the great o^>c^ of prayer is to produce a fitting state of mind in the suppliant to receive the blessing he solicits. The Being prayed to is God him- self; nor is the language too strong, to say that the design of praying to him is to influence and induce him to give what we ask for. It is not to inform, or change the Deity ; for there is " no PRAYER ENFORCED. 359 variableness, neither shadow of turning" with him; he "is of one mind, and who can turn him, and what his soul desireth that he doeth." It is not inconsistent with the doctrine of the divine immutability, that one of the unchanging properties of his nature is that he is the hearer of prayer, and that he is not less immutably a prayer-hearing God than he is a God of recti- tude and truth. It is true that his counsels never change ; but it is equally true that no small part of them were formed in the fore- knowledge of all those supplications by which He had previously resolved to be influenced, and which were regarded by him as the ap- pointed means by which his purposes are car- ried into effect, and which as truly enter into, and form a part of his purposes, as the ends themselves which his purposes secure. The duty and the privilege of prayer, there- fore, are not embarrassed, but sanctioned and encouraged by the immutability of the divine purposes. There is no mysticism about this plain subject. Prayer itself is just what it pur- ports to be ; its object is just what it purports to be. It is.to move the Deity, who from eter- nity determined to be thus moved, to bestow what the suppliant solicits. The whole field of reason and argument is therefore open to the mind of the petitioner when he goes to the 360 THE MERCY SEAT. throne of grace ; it is his privilege, with heart- felt sincerity, humility, and urgency, to suggest all those considerations which, in the view of a devout mind, may operate as reasons for obtain- ing his request. No reasonable man expects to receive a favor- able answer to an unreasonable request. We ought not to solicit either of God or man, that which is not fit and proper to be bestowed. Such a request were an insult to him to whom it is presented ; it were a reproach to him who offers it. When a child requests a favor from a parent, or a subject makes a request to his prince, they are interested in making their cause good, and may be expected to set forth the grounds and reasons of their petition. God regards the supplications of men as neither an unnatural nor arbitrary means of procuring the good they crave. He never acts without rea- son, and has good reasons for requiring them to pray. He is the most reasonable Being in the universe ; and therefore the most easily and certainly influenced by considerations which have weight with a wise and benevolent mind ; so that when requests axe urged at his throne by befitting considerations, they are sure to meet with favor unless there are other and stronger considerations known to him why it should be denied. PRAYER ENFORCED. * 361 It is true that men sometimes pray without making use of argument in prayer ; when tliey do so, it is more generally to be attributed to one of two causes. Either they are^'shut up and have no enlargement of thought, and no such spiritual perceptions and sensibility as enable them to seize upon and amplify the grounds of their requests ; or they are too full to utter them, and can only comprehend them in those brief and compendious ejaculations which are expressive of intense desire, and those pithy and importunate entreaties which, while they forbid amplification, are instead of volumes of argument. In almost every other state of mind, they sug- gest the reasons why they pray, and why God should answer. Did they worship an idol god, they might rest satisfied with the unmeaning repetition of their requests, as did the priests of Baal, when " from morning to evening," they cried out, " O Baal, hear us ! O Baal, hear us !" This was monotonous, senseless vociferation, and had none of the properties of prayer. The " man of God" who stood by, and listened to this noisy, tumultuous worship, offered a brief and ardent supplication, every word of which was full of thought. " And it came to pass at the time of the evening sacrifice, that Elijah came jqiear and said, Lord God of Ahrahaniy Isaac, a?id W 302 THE MERCY SEAT, Israel! let it be known this day that thou art God in Israel, and that / am thij servant, and that I have done all these things at thy word. Hear me, O Lord heSr me, that this people may know that thou art the Lord God, and that thou hast turned their hearts hack again /" The argument is perfect. If God would be known as God in Israel ; if he would be honored for the faithful- ness of his promises to Abraham and his seed ; a he would publicly confirm the mission of his own prophet, and reclaim his backsliding peo- ple ; the appeal is one which could not be resisted. The power of prayer consists not in vapid and vain repetitions, but in affecting thoughts, pre- sented in all the fervency of desire, and all the simplicity and humility of faith. Such was the prayer of Abraham, when he interceded for So- dom ; such was the prayer of Jacob, when, " fis a prince, he had power with God and with man, and prevailed ;" such was the prayer of Moses, when he entreated that the divine anger might be turned away from the congregation of Israel; such was the prayer of Hezekiah, w^hen he re- ceived the menacing message of the proud King of Assyria ; such was the prayer of Nehemiah and Daniel, when they interceded for the resto- ration of the exiled Jews ; and such was that PRAYER ENFORCED. 363 wonderful prayer of the Saviour with, and for his disciples, uttered just before his crucifixion. If the reader will turn to these supplications, and analyze them, he will be surprised to find how replete they are with thought and argu- ment. They are remarkable for their energy, as well jis for their simplicity ; nor is it possible for a devout mind to repeat these impressive and earnest pleadings with God without feeling their force, and perceiving that reason and ar- gument are not out of place in prayer. " O that I knew^ where I might find him! I would come near even to his seat ; I w^ould order my speech before him, and fill my mouth ivith arguments /" Here lies the power of prayer. It is to plead with God as a man expostulates with his friend. Who will question that prayer has power with God, when he hears the voice to Moses, as he was about to intercede for idolatrous Israel, " Let me alone, that my w^rath may w^ax hot against them !" And how has it power ? Not by any mechan- ical force or physical impulse, but by its moral energy ; by its spirit, by its reasons and argu- ments, by the force of all those considerations by which a benevolent mind is moved to ex- press its bounty, a gracious mind the tenderness and riches of its compassions, and the immutable mind to evince itself the prayer-hearing and prayer-answering God. 364 THE MERCY SEAT. The strong arguments, the prevalent reasons in prayer are drawn from God himself, " For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory." This shuts out all arguments drawn from the creature ; from any merit we have, as well as any in those around us. The best of men have no worthiness to plead. " We do not," says the captive suppliant in Babylon, " present our supplications before thee for our righteousness- es." They are rebel men who pray. They may plead their own misery, their wants, their wretchedness, their vileness ; but the fulness on which they rely is his fulness ; the merit they plead is his merit; the bounty and grace they ask are his bounty and grace ; and the glory of giving is his, and will redound to him forever. All the divine perfections harmonize in bestow- ing blessings on the guilty and ill-deserving. " Mercy and truth have met together ; right- eousness and peace have kissed each other.'* The medium of communication between heaven and earth is one. " Let no man," says the Apos- tle, "glory in men. For all things are yours; w hether Paul, or Apollos, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come ; all are yours, and ve are Christ's, and Christ is God's." The man w^ho '' orders his cause" wisely, most honors the God of heaven. He makes his PRAYER ENFORCED. 365 appeal to the divine nature, to the divine Provi- dence, to the redemption by his Son. His argu- ments are drawn from the knowledge and love of God, and from the revealed principles of his government and grace. The divine kingdom and glory furnish him with arguments. His re- liance on the promises, furnishes him with argu- ments. When tempted not to pray, because he himself is so vile ; w^hen his heart is shut up, and his lips are well nigh sealed in silence, by the humbling sense of his own ill-desert and shame ; when most depressed and most discouraged, and almost crushed to hopeless despondency, because he can find nothing in his past history, or his present character, that can give him courage and hope ; then it is that the boundless all-sufficiency and illimitable grace of the great Hearer of prayer inspirits his otherwise discouraged heart, and his language is. Give, O Lord; for thine it is to give. I have nothing; but all is thine. I am nothing ; but thou are all in all. I am poor, and miserable, and vile ; but thifie is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory. All is thine; thou hast all authority. All that is beautiful and great is thine, and from thee. No matter how great the boon we seek, or how undeserved, or how far above our reach ; no matter how urgent the necessity, or how won- derful the relief, we pray and hope for; if the* e ^^ THE MERCY SEAT. are reasons for giving it to be found in the wis- dom, goodness, power, mercy, rectitude, and glory of the great God, or in any of the forms of his boundless sufficiency, or in any of the mani- festations of his great and glorious name, and if they can be perceived and felt, and presented at the mercy seat, of this one thing we may be assured, that the suppliant shall not be sent away empty. When Abraham interceded for Sodom, his ar- gument rested on the moral rectitude of God. This was the only consideration he urged. It prev'ailed. God " could not destroy the right- eous with the wicked." The prayer of Jacob, on his return to the land of his fathers, when met by his enraged brother, Esau, rested on the divine faithfulness. God had said, " Return to thy country, and to thy kindred, and I will deal well with thee." The " best he could say to God in prayer, was what God had thus said to him in promise." He turned the promises of God into petitions, and was emboldened to say, " I will not let thee go, until thou bless me." The intercession of Moses for the idolatrous Israelites was founded on the divine honor and glory. " If thou smite this people, then the Egyptians shall hear of it, and tell it to the inhabitants of this land." Such, too, was the PRAYER ENFORCED. 367 argument of Joshua, when he rent his clothes, and fell to the earth upon his face, before the ark, and said, " Alas, O Lord God ! what shall I say when Israel turneth their back before their enemies? For the Canaanites, and the inhabit- ants of the land, shall hear of it ; and what wilt thou do unto thy great name?'' That memorable prayer of Jehoshaphat, when the Israelites were invaded by the allied powers of Moab, Ammon and Edom, rested its expostu- lations upon God's supremacy and power, his grant of the Holy Land to Israel, his promise to deliver them out of the hand of their enemies, and upon the patient hope and expectation of his people upon him alone. These are but specimens of the supplications', recorded throughout the entire Scriptures, all of which partake of the same high and disinterested character. One cannot read them w^ithout see- ing, that the urgency and energy of every request rests upon some appeal to the glory of the divine name. Not only are they replete with reason and argument, but with considera- tions drawn from this high source. They do not consist of rhetorical flourishes, but of weighty and solemn thoughts, uttered in the simplicity, tenderness, and solemnity of true devotion; and while they are expressive of the spirit of adop- tion, are also expressive of sacred awe of the di- 368 THE MERCr SEAT. vine majesty; and while they disclaim reliance on other helpers, take hold of God's strength, because it is the object and the encouragement of prayer, to honor him. It is not the strength of the creature, that gives prayer its energy, but his weakness; nor is it the creature's authority, but God's; nor is it the work or the w^orthiness of man, on which it rests, but the work of God; nor is it man's glory that it seeks, but God's glory; nor are any of its resources found in man, but in God alone. It is delightful, also, to observe the strong confidence of praxjer, when it rests its pleadings on such arguments as these. While it becomes us to call upon God with an humble and submissive, it is not less our duty and privilege to call upon him with a confiding mind. Requests as large and comprehensive as those expressed in the Lord's Prayer, demand strong confidence in God. We approach his throne as creatures, and as sin- ners — in all dependence and poverty — in all emptiness and ignorance — in ail weakness and pollution — for blessings which we ourselves can neither deserve nor procure, and which no cre- ated being can deserve or procure for us. To approach with holy and joyful confidence, we must acquaint ourselves with God — must ascertain the foundations for confidence that are realized in his all-sufficiency and fulness ; and PRAYER ENFORCED. 369 while we turn away with suspicion and distrust from all others, look beyond them all, to Him, with that affectionate and confiding spirit that is warranted by his infinite and unchanging perfec- tions, and the Sacrifice which has opened a new and living way to his throne. " They that trust in the Lord, shall be as Mount Zion, which can- not be moved, but abideth forever." " Though He slay me, yet will I trust in him." " How great is thy goodness toward them that fear Thee, to them that trust in thee before the sons of men !" " Hath He said it, and shall he not do it ?" Such is the confidence of prayer. The people of God have sometimes strong confidence and great boldness in this exercise, because " great grace is upon them." There are three things which invigorate and inspirit this confidence. "For thine is the kirigdom, the power ^ and the glory T Thine is the kingdom. What we solicit, be- longs to God, and he has it to give. We can- not ask too much, we cannot hope too much from him, because universal sovereignty belongs to him ; the essential kingdom of the universe, extending itself over the worlds of matter and of mind, of nature and of grace, is his unbor- rowed, underived, eternal prerogative. He is "God over all, blessed forever." He stands supreme among the whole intelligent creation ; 15» 370 THE MERCY SEAT. the ascendency of his nature, and the infinite superiority of all that belongs to it, give him a right to all things, make him their owner and proprietor, and invest him with the natural and moral right, the sovereign and uncontrollable right of giving. This is a reason, alike for our asking, and his giving. If men claim the right of disposing of what belongs to them, much more has He the " right to do w hat he will with his own." He has it to bestow in plenteousness which no thought can limit. " Giving does not impoverish him, neither does withholding enrich him." He can satisfy the amplest wishes. His encouraging language is, " Ask and it shall be given you." Let all your wants be upon me. " I am God, all-sufficient." The greater and more valuable the blessings we desire, the more confident may we be of receiving them in answer to prayer. It is related of Alexander the great, that on one occasion he told the philosopher Anaxarchus to go to his treasurer and ask what he wanted. The treasurer was surprised at the greatness of the sum, and refused to pay it without consulting his Prince. "It seemed," said he, " too much for one man to receive." The reply of his sovereign was, " It is not too much for Alexander to give. He does honor to my riches and liberality by so large a request." PRAYER ENFORCED. '371 " Thine is the kingdom /" The princely liber- ality of the King ^^ the universe can no more be exhausted, than his inexhaustible fulness and all-sufficiency. He is not more a boundless ocean of blessedness, than of munificence. He is the great Benefactor, as truly as the great King. He takes a Godlike pleasure in answer- . ing the supplications of his people ; his king- dom itself is extended and promoted by it ; the greater the blessing, the more does his benevo- lent and liberal heart express itself, and the more is it gratified and honored by the gift. Thine is the power. His too is the power, as well as the kingdom. That which he is pleased to will he is able to bestow. If his power to bestow were more limited than his right, or his disposition to give, there would be no strong foundation for confidence in prayer. If there were a single blessing he could not ^ give, our confidence in him would be shaken for every blessing. Should his power fail in one instance, it were impossible for us to know that it would not fail in ten thousand instances, and in those in which the spirit o^ prayer feels the deepest interest. The confidence of the father of the faithful was encouraged by the declaration, " I am the Almighty God ;" Job was comforted with the thought, " I know that thou canst do every- 372 THE MERCY SEAT. thing ;" and the devout Psalmist gioried in the truth, "Our God is in the heavens; he hath done whatever he hath pleased.'' The omnipotence of God hath not a little to do with the spirit of prayer. " Strong is his hand, and high is his right hand." He has a Godlike arm, as well as a Godlike heart. Be the good we crave what it may — spiritual, or temporal — relating to ourselves, or others — be it ever so retired and hidden from the eye, or beyond the reach of creatures — lie can bestow it with infinite ease. " He speaks, and it is done ; he commands, and it stands fast." Noth- ing can hinder, nothing disappoint, nothing weary him. " Whatsoever his soul desireth^ that he doeth." Difficulties, enemies, unworthi- ness, ill-desert, and the constant recurrence of our wants, form no obstacle to his bounty. If the good we crave be found anywhere in the wide universe, he can lay it at our feet ; or if it is not in being, his all-powerful word can create \i, and give existence to what had no existence before. '* He can do all things.'' What an argument for prayer, to say, "Thine is the power .'" And the result is. Thine is the glory ! Here the argument and the ground of confidence be- come firm and invincible. His is the glory of being the hearer of prayer ; for " this is his PRAYER ENFORCED. 373i name, and this is his memorial to all generations." His is the glory of this wondrous condescension and grace ; for he stoops to man who is a worm, and to sinful man who has provoked his wrath. His is the glory of giving; of giving where there is no merit and no recompense ; of so giving —so variously and so largely. His goodness, wisdom, power, justice, faithfulness, mercy, and sovereignty, all appear in their love- liness, beauty, and divine splendor in answer- ing prayer. He gives what spotless inno- cence cannot claim ; what a world could not buy ; and by so doing his glory is both secured and advanced. It is great glory which he spreads over the w^orks of his hands ; but in giving what his peo- ple pray for, there is glory beyond all the glories of the natural world. Such a mind as New- ton's, looking out on the fields of space, sprin- kled w^ith suns for other systems as a meadow is decked with flowers, beholds in these won- drous works a glory which intelligence and piety delight to contemplate. But the glory of God as the hearer of prayer, as the greatest of all givers, as the author and sustainer of the new creation in the hearts of men and in this apostate world, with all its holiness, all its hopes, all its joys, surpasses it all, shines when 374 THE MERCY SEAT. the sun has gone out, and the cycles of time have come to a close. " Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever !" The spirit of prayer is a far reaching spirit ; it looks into eternity. The kingdom, and the power, and the glory are thine always; forever shall they shine in grow- ing and augmented splendor. Hereafter and throughout ceaseless ages, " as it was in the be- ginning, is now, and ever shall be, world with- out end," the God of heaven is exalted as the hearer of prayer. The three great arguments in prayer are therefore the three strong grounds of the sup- pliant's confidence. The God we worship com- mands that confidence for what he is ; sustains it by what he has said and done; perpetuates it by what he is still able and willing to do, and will have the glory of doing, in answer to the supplications of his people. Nor is it any reason why that confidence should be shaken, that sometimes he defers our requests, or withholds the solicited blessing. If we ask for what is best, we know that he heareth us ; while, if through ignorance, infir- mity, or sin, we fail in doing this, we still know that he will not be unmindful of our highest good, though he exercises his own wisdom and discretion in declining, as well as granting our PRAYER ENFORCED. 375 requests. There is no ground for discourage- ment in prayer, where the Christian casts all his care on God; nor, on the other hand, is there any motive to prayer, or any comfort in this de- lightful duty, where these divine resources are lost sight of We become wise in his wisdom, mighty in his power, comforted in his all- suffi- ciency ; when his wisdom guides us, when we take hold of his everlasting strength, and when, worms as we are, his all-sufficiency influences our prayers and actuates our conduct. There is no place for discouragement, no room for despondency, so long as the kingdom, and the power, and the glory are the Lord's. Thinking of ourselves only, and of our sins, and wants, and dangers, we have good cause for ap- prehension. But there is One who is God over all, who has all hearts in his hands and all events under his control, whom heaven and earth and sea obey, who is able to save and to destroy, before whom angels bow and devils tremble ; and though we are perfect weakness, yet is his grace sufficient, and his glory our rearward. Prayer terminates in praise. The Father of mercies and the God of all grace is worthy to be exalted. Those excellencies of the divine nature we most dwell upon in prayer, and those considerations we make use of as our strongest 376 THE MERCY SEAT. arguments at the throne of grace, the more we contemplate them, become expressive of reve- rence and honor, kindle into gratitude and joy, and are the themes of admiring song. While we take encouragement in our prayers because the kingdom, power, and glory are the Lord's, we necessarily desire that he may be exalted and glorified, and ascribe to him the glory due to his holy name. On that great occasion, when the princes and people of Israel offered so willingly for building the Temple, " David blessed the Lord, before all the congregation. And David said. Blessed be thou, Lord God of Israel our father, forever and ever. Thine, O Lord, is the greatness, and the power, and the glory, and the victory, and the majesty; for all that is in the heaven and in the earth is thine; thine is the kingdom, O Lord, and thou art exalted as head above all. Both riches and honor come of thee, and thou reignest over all ; and in thine hand is power and might, and thine it is to make great, and to give strength unto all. Now, therefore, O God, we thank thee, and praise thy glorious name !" Paul's ascription was, " Now unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honor and glory, forever and ever!" " Whoso offereth praise," saith God, " glorifieth me." Praise engages him to hear. " Sing PRAYER ENFORCED. 377 praises unto God, ye kingdoms of the earth ; oh, sing praises unto the Lord ! Talk of him, speak forth his name ; say of him, Thine is the king- dom T^ — the unbounded, universal kingdom, of nature, providence, and grace, is thine ! The visible and the invisible, the kingdom above, and the kingdom below, the kingdom of grace and the kingdom of justice, are thine. " Thy kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and of thy dominion there is no end." Above the heavens, beyond the earth, below the ocean, thy kingdom is prepared, O God, and thou reignest forever. The kingdoms of this world are but little spots of earth, compared with thy vast dominions, O thou sovereign Lord; and the princes of this world are but vanity, compared with thee. Thine, too, is the power. " Who, O Lord, is a strong Lord, like unto thee, or to thy faith- fulness round about thee ?" What wonders hast thou done, O thou who art very great, and art clothed with majesty ! " Thou layest the beams of thy chambers in the mighty waters ; thou makest the clouds thy chariot, and walk- est upon the wings of the wind.'" The " Lord God omnipotent reigneth, and let the earth rejoice !" And the glonj is thine. The glory of creatures is fallen, and their memory forgotten. The flower of Lebanon, and the beauty of Bashan and Carmel languish; but thy glory 378 THE MERCY" SEAT. is above the earth and the heavens. *' Glorious art thou in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders." As a great God, and a great King, decked as he is with light as with a garment, and arrayed in majesty and excellency, we may hope in him, and we may praise him. The kingdom, the power, and the glory, are his forever, " The Lord shall reign forever and ever." What a word is that one word *' for- ever !" Nothing can increase, nothing diminish, nothing terminate the kingdom, power, and glory of God. Always glorious, always reign- ing in the fulness of his glory, he is God over all, blessed for evermore. And to these ascriptions, the spirit of prayer adds its hearty and emphatic Amen! This is a term of great emphasis. The original word sig- nifies solidity — not to be shaken ; truth that stands firm. " He which testifieth these things saith, I come quickly ; amen. Even so, come. Lord Jesus !" We utter this emphatic term, in testimony of our desire to be heard, and of our assurance of being so. '' Lord, thou hast heard the desire of the humble; thou wilt prepare their heart, for thou wilt cause thine ear to hear." The desire and prayer for blessings always has some measure of assurance of them, in God's own time and way. Let the kingdom be the Lord's; let the power and the glory PRAYER ENFORCED. 379 be his forever. Let him be exalted, and all creatures lie low at his footstool ! Prayer and praise may not be given to earth and creatures. We pay no such homage to the painting of the artist, the statuary of the sculptor, nor to any image graven by art or man's device, nor to hero gods, nor to martyred saints. To God alone give glory. " Blessed be the Lord God, the God of Israel, who only doeth wondrous things! And blessed be his glorious name forever! and let the whole earth be filled with his glory, amen and amen !" Thus it is that '' in our prayers we praise him." The spirit of the closet and the sanctuary are closely allied to the spirit of heaven. " At his throne of grace, we are but a little distance from his throne of glory." The nearer we come to God, the more evidence have we that we shall dwell with God. He that would be fitted for heaven, must be much in prayer, w^hile on the earth. Alas! how little account do even God's own people make of prayer ! The pulse of spiritual life would never become low in the bosom of Christians, did they know more of the power of prayer. The dews of mercy would not be so often and so long restrained, nor the rain of heaven withheld, nor its clouds shut up, did they know what may be so easily known of the 380 THE MERCY SEAT. power and preciousness of prayer. God would remember his covenant, his church would flourish like the cedar in Lebanon, and grow as the vine, were she more faithful and diligent in thus proving the faithfulness and love of her divine Lord. Come, oh, " come thou north wind, and blow thou south, and breathe upon thy garden, that the spices thereof may flow forth !" How marvellous, too, is it that wicked men never pray, or pray so little ! What a w^onder- ful foundation is laid for prayer in the nature of the Deity, and at the mercy seat where the blood of Jesus pleads for the chief of sinners ! O that the thoughtless, impenitent reader of these humble pages might be allured by them to the throne of the heavenly grace ! He must live a life of prayer, that would die a death of praise. They are those who love to pray, to whom the author takes leUve to address this last paragraph. Let the Christian reader call to mind what and where he would have been w ithout prayer ; let him value the privilege more than the gold of Ophir. If in his more favored seasons of fel- lowship with his heavenly Father, he seems sometimes to leave these earthly regions behind him, and take his flight almost within the veil ; let him *' thank God and take courage." The PRAYER ENFORCED. 381 earthly house of his tabernacle will soon be dissolved, and those who here truly call God their Father, will bow with the great multitude which no man can number, and ascribe bless- ing, and honor, and glory, and thanksgiving, and power, and might, to him who is seated on the throne and to the Lamb. Nothing: is more certain, than that the affectionate appeal, " Our Father who art in heaven," will terminate in the holy ardor of the everlasting song. Won- drous wisdom, wondrous goodness, wondrous grace, are they which are the themes of their song. Wonders still greater must remain untold, uncelebrated. The piety of heaven is progres- sive, though sinless ; their love is a constant, bright and glowing flame ; their joy unspeakable and full of glory. The thoughts they utter and the emotions which swell their song are the most delightful, the most tender, the most pure and elevated, and rapturous. Creatures are forgotten there, and God alone is exalted. Created grandeur fades ; the glory of all creatures van- ishes. What a joyous, what a ravishing song, when ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, " as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, and as the voice of harpers harping with their harps," unite in the ascription, " Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his 382 THE MERCY SEAT. own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God, even his father; to him be glory and dominion, forever and ever!" The more the reader is imbued with the spirit of heaven, and the nearer he draws to that un- seen world, the less will he think, and feel, and speak of meaner things and meaner joys, and the more will his heart and tongue be filled with praise. O that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, for his wonderful works to the children of men ! " To thee all angels cry aloud ; the heavens and all the powers that are therein. To thee Cherubim and Seraphim continually do cry. Holy, holy, holy Lord God of Sabaoth; heaven and earth are full of the majesty of thy glory ! The glorious company of the Apostles praise thee, the goodly fellow- ship of the Prophets praise thee, the noble army of martyrs praise thee." The holy church throughout all the world doth praise thee. Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord ! Praise is the appropriate employment of the heavenly w^orld. Or rather, it is the employ- ment which is there inwoven with all other employments. The day is not far distant when those who truly offer this prayer will have less to ask for, than to enjoy ; nothing daily to confess, because they will sin no more; no wants, no trials to spread before the throne of infinite mercy, be- PRAYER ENFORCED. 383 cause every want shall be supplied, and all tears shall be wiped from every eye. His name shall then be everywhere hallowed ; his kingdom shall have come in its glory ; they themselves, " clothed in white robes and with palms in their hands," shall " bow before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple." They shall hear the voice of much people in heaven, and with them shall cry " Hallelujah, glory, salvation, honor and power to the Lord our God !" And again they shall say, Halle- lujah ! THE END. ^' Princeton Theological Seminary-Speer Libran 1 1012 01142 3144 i illl wz m w > M d\\ ml Of u