would be found wanting:-many who have not the slightest evidence that they have ever been regenerated; who are habitually indulging in some known sin without any effort to overcome it; who are pursuing a doubtful course of life without any pains taken to inquire whether it be consistent with the New Testament or not, and who are conscious that they have none of the peculiarities which went to make up the character of Christ; who are conscious that they have never formed a plan, or performed an action, which the man of the world might not do, and who have never put forth ONE effort solely to promote the glory of God.

If this be the state of the mind in any case, the conclusion is inevitable. Light has no fellowship with darkness, nor Christ with Belial. Painful as is the conclusion, yet we are to remember that an enemy hath sown tares in the great field which God will soon reap, and that the proof is clear in the New Testament that the enemies of Christ will in various ways come into his church. It was from no wish to give pain that the Saviour stated this doctrine, and it is from no wish to produce pain that it is now repeated. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend.” Timely admonition evinces more friendship than an attempt to "daub with untempered mortar," or to "cry peace, peace, when there is no peace.' Not in words only, therefore; not in the way of professional duty merely, but in the sober language of friendship, and with the apprehensions of just alarm, do I exhort each professor to examine his heart, and his life. For soon these eyes will open upon the judgment seat; and soon our own ears will hear the words addressed to many unhappy mortals, once professors of the religion of Christ, "Depart from me, I NEVER KNEW YOU."

I anticipate that this discourse will give pain, if pain at all, where it is least desirable that it should be done. The humble, pious, modest, praying, real Christian, is usually the one who is most alarmed by appeals like this. The man deceived; the cold, formal professor; the one really intended, and who is really the enemy of the cross of Christ, is usually the man least affected, least moved, least concerned. Judas was the last man at the table to express concern when the Saviour said that one

of them would betray him. "Lord is it I?" was the reluctant, and hollow language of the traitor at last. And the last man who might ask the question here, am I unrenewed, am I indulging in known sin, am I pursuing a doubtful course of life, am I failing to exhibit the peculiar spirit of a Christian,' might not improbably be the very one who has most undoubted evidence of being the enemy of the cross of Christ. Such are not alarmed. They thank not the Saviour for his admonitions and reproofs. Let us take to ourselves words and turn to the Lord and say, "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts; and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."

SERMON XIV.

ENEMIES. OF THE CROSS OF CHRIST.

NO. 2.

Phil. iii. 18. For many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now tell you even weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ.

FROM these words, in the last discourse, I proposed to consider the following points:

I. There is reason to believe that many professors of religion are the enemies of the cross of Christ.

II. What are the characteristics of that enmity, or how may it be known that they are such; and

III. Why is the fact of their being in the church an occasion of grief and tears.

The first point was considered; and also four specifications under the second head were suggested. I specified the following classes as being his enemies, though in the church:

(1.) Those who have not been born again or regenerated; (2.) those who are living in the practice of any known sin; (3.) those who are pursuing a doubtful course of life without any pains taken to ascertain whether it is right or wrong; and (4.) those who in their conduct manifest none of the peculiarities of those who truly love him.

In the prosecution of the subject at this time, I propose to call your attention to some additional particulars which are expressive of hostility to him among those who professedly love him. Resuming the subject where we then left off, I observe,

(5.) In the fifth place, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ among his professed friends, who have a deeper interest in their worldly affairs than they have in the cause of the Redeemer. This is the particular thing that is specified in the verse succeeding my text. Paul, giving an account of the professors of religion at Philippi whom he regarded as the enemies of the cross of Christ, describes them as those who "mind earthly things;"

that is, whose supreme care was manifested for the things of this life. "Our conversation," he elsewhere says, speaking of true Christians, "is in heaven;" their plans and thoughts pertain to the things of the earth, and they thus show, though they are professors of religion, the real principles by which they are actuated. And in the second chapter of this epistle, when describing persons of a similar character, he says, "For all seek their own, not the things which are Jesus Christ's." Chap. ii. 21. And again, in 2 Timothy iii. 2, when describing a period of great apostasy and general declension in religion, he says, as the characteristics of those times, "Men shall be lovers of their own selves." This is the established mode of judging men's real character in the New Testament. "By their fruit," was the Saviour's rule, "shall ye know them." "Men do not gather grapes thorns, nor figs of thistles." When we see a shrub producing only thorns, we judge that it is a thorn-bush; when producing only thistles, we judge that it is a thistle.

My proposition is, that where men have a deeper interest in worldly affairs than they have in the cause of Christ, they are strangers to his religion. The proof of this proposition lies in a nut-shell. For (1.) The Redeemer himself said, "He that is not with me is against me." (2.) There must be some way of accurately arriving at a knowledge of character; and there is no better way than to observe a man's habitual walk and conversation. Character is the result of conduct. It is not a single deed; it is not a temporary ebullition of feeling. We do not attribute the tried character of virtue to the man who has resisted a single temptation; nor of heroism to the man who has been engaged in a single conflict. It is the man who has been often tempted, and who has successfully resisted temptation, to whom we award the praise of virtue; and it is the hero of many battles, and many scars, to whom we ascribe valor. We ask, in determining character, what is the tenor of the man's life; what it is that will call forth the latent principles of his soul? If it be to make money, we then say that that is his character. If it be to become honored, we then say so. If it be to shine in the gay circle, we then say so. And if the habitual purpose of the life be, that the man cares

more for the things of this world than he does for the cause of Christ; if they occupy more of his time and thoughts; if his actions and his plans are just like those of the men of this world, and just such as Satan would have them to be, he is the enemy of the cross of Christ. (3.) The interests of Christ's kingdom are intended to be supreme. He seeks no divided sway, and rules over no divided empire. He came not to establish a kingdom that should be just like all other kingdoms, nor to sit on a throne that is occupied by a rival. "If any man come to me," is his language, "and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple." Luke xiv. 26. If the interests of his kingdom, therefore, are not supreme in the affections, and if a man is not ready to sacrifice all other interests to his, he is the enemy of his cross. (4.) The principles of the Christian religion cannot lie dormant in the soul. If those principles exist, they will be manifested. Christians are to be the light of the world; and a light is not kindled that it may be put under a bushel. Religion consists in love to God and love to man. Can that love exist, and yet the man always act as if it did not exist? Religion consists in meekness, forgiveness, joy, peace, long-suffering, temperance, charity. Can these exist in the heart, and yet a man act just as though they did not? Religion consists in self-denial, in bearing the cross, in crucifying the flesh with the affections and lusts. Can those principles exist, and yet the man be just as self-indulgent, just as much seeking the pleasures and enjoyments of this life as the men of the world? Religion is holiness, not mere morality; it is conformity to Christ, not conformity to an imaginary standard of excellence. Can that exist, and yet the man in his manner of life be just like all other men? Was there nothing in which Jesus Christ was distinguished from the world?

It is sometimes said that piety should be retiring, and unseen. Religion it is said, is a secret principle of the soul. It shrinks back from the public gaze, and seeks concealment, and should not seek publicity. But why is this said? There is nothing of it in the Bible; but every thing there is just the contrary. Hypocrisy, and mere