pleasures, followed by an eternal lot of pain and misery; the other side presenting solid, secure, inalienable gratification even upon earth, at the expense of a small degree of self-denial, and an endless enjoyment of delights such as no human heart can conceive, in the next life, it does appear as if nothing short of absolute blindness can account for the conduct of those who deliberately prefer the former. When we see this madness exhibited by those, who in the transactions of this life are shrewd and well-judging men, fully capable of the strength of mind requisite to forego some small immediate gratification, for the sake of insuring a future more important good, we are apt to think that there must be in their minds some doubt as to the reality of the future life, and its promises, which induces them to put up with the present pleasures, rather than in the pursuit of those to come, to risk the loss of all. But then, when we examine the evidence which is offered to them on this point, and find it so strong as, when investigated, to command belief;-and discover that in some cases they have never taken the pains to become acquainted with it,-in others, that the fault lies in the want not of intellectual conviction, but of inclination of will, we are driven back to our first conclusion, and can scarcely doubt that a veil is beginning to lie upon their hearts. Still more strange, still more inexplicable is the phenomenon, when, as in the case I have supposed, this indifference has been

preceded by strong religious convictions and warm religious feelings. Nothing can be more painful than the sight of such a state in another, nothing more terrible (if under such circumstances a man is assailable by terror) than the consciousness of it in oneself. Religion seems to have fought the battle, and to have been conquered. Indifference reigns more securely from the victory it has achieved; and it is indeed difficult to conceive what prospect of rescue yet remains. Knowledge has failed; feeling has failed: it can only be by some strong and most merciful interposition that such an one can be delivered from the downward course upon which he has entered; it can only be from the most unmerited forbearance that God does not harden his heart, as He hardened the heart of Pharaoh, and show forth His anger, and make known His power upon such a vessel of wrathfitted for destruction.

I have said that the danger of yielding to this indifference of Religion is constantly present to us; that there is scarcely a state of feeling to which indifference does not offer a refuge and an apparent consolation, scarcely a situation of difficulty from which it does not present the means of temporary escape.

There are two situations of common occurrence, in which this danger seems to be more close at hand than is commonly thought; and as they are of exactly opposite kinds, they may serve to repre

sent a great variety of states of feeling, in which the temptation is generally of the same nature.

One of the greatest trials to which Christians are commonly subject, seems to consist in a sort of temporary coldness and languor of spirit upon these matters. Our feelings seem to ebb and flow. At one time our hearts seem full of gratitude, dependence and love; ready to do all or sacrifice all for the sake of religion, our understandings earnestly and strongly convinced, our faith more sound, our views more clear, our hopes less embarrassed, our hearts more happy in relation to God: and then again, without any easily assigned cause, our mental sky becomes overcast, love cools, duty becomes irksome, self-restraint oppressive, faith doubtful, our hearts discomforted. Whence this change originates, is generally uncertain. It may be owing to some neglect on our part when we were in that happier state-it may not be unassisted by variations, even in our bodily health. However, it is caused, most Christians are painfully aware that it is not uncommon.

And at such a time, the danger of taking a first and fatal step of resistance to the Holy Spirit seems to be very close at hand. The danger is, lest we allow ourselves to sink beneath the change, lest we become so discouraged by the feeling of coldness and discomfort, as to make no struggle to over

1 See 'The Method,' George Herbert's Poems, p. 138. ed. Pickering.

come it,-lest in the idea of being deserted, we take the surest means of really becoming so. For to yield at such a moment,-to turn to despair, the moment the countenance of God seems averted from us, to give up the zealous endeavours after the Spirit, immediately that our growth in grace does not answer our perhaps unreasonable expectations, is indeed a fatal step in the direction of complete spiritual destitution.

This is indeed a trial, and a painful one. It is a temptation to despair, but it is not a temptation to which there is not a way to escape, that we may be able to bear it.

And the first and best mode to escape from it is to regard it as a trial and temptation, and to act accordingly. For many things are very terrible when regarded as misfortunes, which quite alter their appearance when they come to be considered as trials. If a man can convince himself that God has allowed him to be put into this situation of difficulty, that his religious principle may come forth more pure, thus tried in the fire, he will be doubly anxious to take every means of zealous and earnest resistance. He will be convinced that by diligent exertion, he can awaken feeling. He will zealously and scrupulously perform every religious exercise, lest he give the adversary occasion to gain fresh strength against him; he will pray for the warmth of heart which he would fain feel,-and he will humbly, and yet with confidence, tarry the Lord's

leisure; he will be strong in his trust, and he will undoubtedly receive comfort in his heart.

The woman of Canaan cried earnestly after our Lord, "Have mercy on me, thou Son of David!" "but he answered her not a word'." Though his disciples besought him to send her away, and though his first answer was thus discouraging, "I am not sent, save unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel," yet still she came and worshipped Him, saying, "Lord, help me." Still he answered, "It is not meet to take the children's bread, and cast it to dogs:" yet she replied, "Truth, Lord; but the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master's table:"-and then at length Jesus answered her and said, "O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt."

Another case, in which it may perhaps seem strange to speak of danger, is when from any external circumstances, such as affliction or misfortune, our feelings are suddenly turned towards religion. When in consequence of any such calamity, the interests of this life are suddenly cut off, a man turns by a natural and blessed impulse to a more full reliance upon God. He feels something like the emotion of the Psalmist in exclaiming, "Whom have I in Heaven but Thee ? and there is none upon earth that I desire in comparison of Thee." Such emotions, especially when they are sudden,

1 St. Matt. xv.