IV. MEN DIFFER WIDELY FROM GOD AS TO WHAT CONSTITUTES TRUE CHRISTIAN CHARACTER, AND A PREPARATION FOR THE ENJOYMENts of

THE HEAVENLY STATE.

The subject of the saints' final felicity is second in importance to no one in the whole compass of theological science. And yet men have endeavored to rob heaven of all its glories; and have even denied to it a fixed locality. But God represents the saints, after their honorable acquittal at the day of judgment, as making a triumphant entry into the place destined for their final reception. This place will be that region in the universe where angels and the spirits of the just now dwell, and where all the righteous shall be finally assembled. I pretend not to be able to tell where it is situated; of one thing, however, I feel very well assured, that heaven is most conveniently and beautifully located somewhere in the measureless regions of space. It may differ vastly from this earth, and be adapted to beings of entirely different bodily constitutions. All descriptions of it in the Scriptures are highly figurative; but they convey a distinct idea of its consummate beauty and astonishing grandeur. No adequate conjectures can be formed of that habitation which God has chosen as the glorious place of his eternal residence. Here will be united all the magnificence and splendor which we behold in the expansive universe, forming the noblest, mightiest work of his Almighty hand. "And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon to shine in it, for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." Unnumbered millions, at the second coming of Christ, will be raised to life and immortality, and will triumphantly enter with him into their everlasting rest. The society of heaven, too, will equally promote the saints' final joy. No jarring discords or human broils shall ever more disturb their glorious rest. No more disgusting scenes of revolting depravity shall again be witnessed, to interrupt their heavenly bliss. A sinless state will present none of that waywardness of disposition so frequently met with, even in the most pious here below; and, as a just punishment for which, the chastisements of the Lord become absolutely necessary. Distressing sympathies, unhappy disappointments, broken friendships, and cruel separations from those we love, are all needful to hold us in check, and to purge out that old leaven with which we are so sadly infected. But God shall finally wipe away all tears from our eyes. A calm, indeed, shall succeed, where no violent surge

ever dashes, and where no angry tempest is ever more to blow. Conscience will now be hushed into perpetual silence, no more to sound through the soul its waking notes of lamentation and wo. The enjoyment of heaven consists in the enjoyment of God; and yet how little interest do the multitude feel in his presence. To wander from God, and to seek rest in the place of his absence, is to seek fruitlessly for what never can be obtained. Remove God from the celestial paradise, and you remove all that is of value there, and leave heaven but a cheerless waste. It must be evident, that many have no proper conception of the nature and holiness of that upper temple. They are clamorous for a religion which shall throw wide ajar the gates of heaven, confound the righteous with the wicked, abolish all moral distinctions, and open the way to paradise as broad as the universe. Such regard sincerity as the safe and only criterion of piety; and this, too, even at the sacrifice of the blood of atonement, and the doctrines of the cross. They wish to be told that unbelief is innocent; and that they are in equal safety with those who have been born again. They transform the heaven which Jesus has opened by his blood to a heaven of animal enjoyment-a region hardly superior to the paradise of Mahomet. To create enjoyment for a man any where, there must be a suitableness in the tastes that are in him to the objects with which he is surrounded. To make a man as happy as this world will allow, we must load him with riches, and honors, and pleasures, and all things that his sinful heart can wish. Now, I suppose that the same man could be made just as happy in heaven as he is on earth, could he there be placed as he is here; for, if God would adapt the circumstances of heaven, and vary them to meet the depravity of sinners, then might they be happy there, and not otherwise. Heaven now has no peculiar charms for the wicked; and, if they were conveyed thither, in their sins, its richest melodies would fall with dissonance and jargon upon their unhallowed ears. Of one thing let us all rest assured, that God will never change the circumstances of heaven to meet the depraved likings of his creatures.

The character of sin-polluted man must be changed to meet the circumstances of heaven, or he can never enter and be happy there. Some admit, that love to God is needful to the enjoyment of his presence. They flatter themselves that they do really love him. But, when they shall stand within the confines of the eternal

world, they will not there find the God they loved so well. It was not the God of the Bible, it was an object of their own fond imaginations—a mere phantom, which the light of the other world will immediately dissipate.

They will find there a God of holiness, who will never tarnish the lustre of his law to clear and save the guilty. The sinner would rather be concealed in the clefts of the mountains than meet the God of the Bible, and be constrained to look on the face of him who sitteth on the throne. Others have passed through something which they call conversion, and yet do not love the humbling doctrines of the cross. They neglect all the spiritual ordinances of the gospel, as often as they can, with the least show of decency, and escape the censures of the church. They live more loosely than thousands of the impenitent around; and yet seldom have a doubt with reference to the genuineness of their hopes. Such ought to remember, that a shoreless eternity is but just before them; and that time is rapidly glimmering onward, to bring them to their final destiny. Their innocent pleasures, so called, to kill time, will ruin their immortal souls; and furnish materials to feed the fires of that awful day. "There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death."

Mounted on the whirlwind of excitement, many love what they call the feeling part of religion. They greet, with pleasure, every object which can arouse the sympathies of our nature, and fan, to the highest pitch, the tenderest sensibilities of man. The horses are lashed, Jehu-like, to the top of their speed; and the chariot wheels bound swiftly onward, to the imminent danger of all within. Theirs is the religion of excitement; and it passes away like the early cloud and the morning dew. It has well been compared to a noisy, babbling mountain torrent, which is dry almost as soon as the rain which created it is over. It is not like the gently meandering brook, which is supplied with never-failing sources, and which beautifies and enriches every spot through which it passes. These clamorous professors will be most sadly disappointed to see Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of God, and they themselves thrust out.

Again, God is not guided by human decisions, as to the best instrumentalities for spreading the gospel of his kingdom. It would be natural to think, that that system of religion which curbs the passions and restrains the propensities of the heart-a system

which is rejected and hated of all men-would need a powerful instrumentality to procure its success. Who would have thought that a handful of fishermen should have been selected to utter forth the truths of that heaven-born Christianity which must ultimately triumph through the earth! God often crowns most efficiently the feeblest ministers of his church, that no flesh may glory in his presence.

And it is only when the preached gospel is identified with his presence, that we witness a realization of its success. It then becomes the power of God unto salvation. Here is power which can seize, with the grasp of truth, every prop and pillar of idolatry, and bury her loftiest temples in the dust. A power that shall overcome the powers of sin and ignorance; and shall snap the last link in the chain of ignorance, darkness and oppression. Men arm themselves to conflict, clad in the armor of death, and hope to succeed in proportion to their numbers and strength. But the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty, through God, to the pulling down of strong holds. Prayer becomes the Christian's armor of defence, in his spiritual antagonism with the world. Every Christian knows the value of prayer, however lightly it may be esteemed by the vulgar and profane. Here, the soul holds intercourse with God,-the source of its joy and strength. Here, the smile of God sheds a heavenly light over every thing he contemplates, and disarms the world of its power to disturb. Here, he learns his own native weakness and misery, and obtains a view of God's power and faithfulness. And here, Jacob-like, he throws himself into the arms of God, and wrestles, prevailingly, for the blessings he needs; while love and faith strike their roots deep into his soul, and conform his sympathies to those of God and truth. To this source must the church look for an energetic influence, and for the rising glory of her sons. Prayer has wrought wonders for the church, in all ages. It has checked, broken to pieces, and utterly destroyed, strong and well fortified armies. It has turned away the wrath of God, when it was just ready to break forth as a devouring flame. It has turned the wisdom of crafty politicians into the utmost follishness, and made their best concerted plans work for their own destruction. It has broken open the prison doors, and liberated the mouldering captive. And it has, as it were, overcome the great Redeemer, and procured from him the blessings needed. Here is strength vastly

superior to all judicial decisions, civil enactments or tyranical powers. It was here that Martin Luther, the champion of the Reformation, found strength at the Diet of Worms. "Here I stand on

the side of truth and conscience; I cannot act otherwise, God help me."

SERMON LXXXIII.

THE MAN WITHOUT THE WEDDING GARMENT.

And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw there a man which had not on a wed ding garment: and he saith unto him, Friend, how camest thou in hither, not having a wedding garment? And he was speechless. Then said the king to the servants, Bind him hand and foot, and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Matthew xxii., 11-13.

There is remarkable originality in the parables of Christ. They are always appropriate and direct-delighting us by their beauty, or alarming and impressing us by their power. It is so in the passages we have read, etc. These facts arrest our attention. A resemblance between the man without the wedding garment and the other guests; also a difference; the reasons of this difference, and the consequences. Attentively consider,

I. Wherein he resembles the other guests.

1. He is dependent.

2. He is invited.

3. He is expecting, etc.

II. Wherein he differs from them.

garment."

Differs,

"He had not on a wedding

1. In mental and moral disposition. Internal grace-holiness.

2. In external appearance. Practical religion.

III.

The reasons or causes of this difference.

Perhaps,

1. Pride-or,

2. Disbelief, etc.—or,