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the full truth that you are a sinner-not attempting to cloak or conceal one of your transgressions; saying substantially, as David did, "Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness; according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against thee, thee only, have I sinned," Psa. li. 1-4. So pleading, by faith in the blood that cleanseth from all sin-the blood of the Redeemer-your "sins will be blotted out as a cloud, and your transgressions as a thick cloud," Isa. xliv. 22. So pleading, you will hear the voice which so often gave relief to the troubled soul when the Redeemer walked on the earth, "Thy sins be forgiven thee, go in peace!"

SERMON XII.

THE STRUGGLES OF A CONVICTED SINNER.

MARK X. 22, 23.-" And he was sad at that saying, and went away grieved; for he had great possessions. And Jesus looked round about, and saith unto his disciples, How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!"

MATT. viii. 21, 22.—" And another of his disciples said unto him, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. But Jesus said unto him, Follow me, and let the dead bury their dead."

LUKE ix. 61, 62.-" And another also said, Lord, I will follow thee; but let me first go bid them farewell which are at home at my house. And Jesus said unto him, No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God."

EVERY one who has become a Christian has been conscious of a struggle of greater or less intensity, and of longer or shorter duration, before he found peace in believing. This struggle arises from the conviction of duty and the sense of guilt and of danger, on the one hand, and the love of the world and of sin, in some form, on the other. The intensity and the duration of this struggle will be varied much by the character of the individual; will be modified much by his time of life or by the kind of instruction which he receives; will be intense as his love of sin may be intense and his conviction of its guilt may be intense, and protracted as the love of sin and the world has been made strong in his heart.

The cases to which I have referred in opening this discourse are, each of them, an illustration of this thought:—a few of the many to be found in the New Testament, and all of them having a counterpart in the application of the gospel to the hearts of men in every age. The first is that of a rich young man-a man full of ardour, of many amiable qualities, and a sincere inquirer on the subject of religion-whom the Saviour required to give up his wealth, and consecrate it to God if he would follow him; and the struggle in his case was between his conviction of the necessity of religion and his love of his possessions. The second was that of a man whom the Saviour called to follow him, but who asked that he might first go and bury his father; and the struggle in his case was between his

conviction of a duty which he owed to Christ and a desire to be saved, on the one hand, and a strong domestic tie-one of the strongest that can be conceived of—and a supposed pressing duty, growing out of that, on the other. The third was a similar case—that of a man who expressed a willingness to follow him, but who merely asked a delay that he might go, before he gave himself up to be a follower of Christ, and take a proper leave of his own friends and family connexions :-a parting struggle between his love of those friends and the love of the Saviour. In all these you will perceive essentially the same conflict of mind: the command of Christ, his invitations and appeals, a strong sense of duty, a conviction of the necessity of religion, on the one hand; and some form of earthly attachment, some worldly engagement, some desire of respite and delay, some yet unsundered tie binding to the world, on the other. This is the subject to which, at the present time, I propose to ask your attention in other words, I wish to describe the struggles of a sinner under conviction of sin before he yields to the claims of the gospel, I shall endeavour to describe that struggle, and to show the reasons why a sinner in that state is not converted. In doing this, I shall seek to point out the nature of the struggle; the causes which produce it; and some illustrations of it as a mental operation, and as preventing the conversion of the soul to God.

The struggle may be described, in general, in one word. It is a conflict between a conviction of duty, and an unwillingness to do it; between a sense of what is right, and an inclination to do wrong; between a feeling that God ought to be obeyed, and the love of sin and of the world which prevents obedience. It is a conflict which shall have the mastery-conscience or pleasure; benevolence or selfishness; religion or the world. The person referred to is sensible of the evil of the course which he is pursuing, but is not prepared to abandon it; he is convinced that he is a sinner, but is not willing to forsake his sins; he is unhappy in the pursuit of the world, but is not wholly ready to become a Christian; he feels in some degree the force and the reasonableness of the commands of Christ, and has some desire to be his follower, but he loves the world, as the rich young man did his possessions, or he has some strong worldly tie which he cannot yet sever, as he did who pleaded that he might go and bury his father, or he who asked that he might be suffered to bid farewell to those at his house. Two opposite things, both very powerful in their nature, are brought into conflict, and produce an agitation of the soul, as when counter currents of air

meet in the sky, driving the clouds on each other and causing fierce tempests and storms, or as when a mighty river rolls down into the ocean, and meets the ebbing tide when driven onward by a mighty wind. Thus we have seen the clouds meet together on the hills, driven from the east and the west, heaving in wild commotion. And thus, too, it is at the mouth of some great river, as navigators tell us of the river Oregon, where on the one side a vast and rapid volume of waters is rolled toward the ocean, and on the other the mighty sea rolls its waves in towards the descending volume. They meet on the bar, and then occurs the strife of contending currents. Rarely are the waters so smooth that a vessel may enter the mouth of the river safely, and often the mariner, unable to enter, is compelled to turn the prow of his vessel and stand again out to sea. So often in the soul of man. There are contending passions. There is in each an unwillingness to yield. There is a long and fearful struggle before either gives way, and the soul finds peace.

The causes of this struggle or conflict may all be resolved into the one fact, that there is now a deeply-felt conviction of duty and of danger coming into conflict with passion, pride, selfishness, worldliness, and the conscious opposition of the heart to a holy God.

On the one hand, there is the strong conviction of duty, and a sense of sin and danger more or less deep. The nobler powers of our nature, long torpid, are awakened into energy, and demand that the world and sin shall be abandoned, and that God shall be obeyed. Those powers of the soul that were designed to prompt to duty, and to lead to the service of God, had been long inactive. The conscience had become insensible to the obligations of religion. Duty was neglected without exciting compunction. The lessons of early piety were forgotten. The Bible was disregarded; the Sabbath was devoted to business, to light reading, to amusement, to sin; the sanctuary was entered reluctantly, and only by constraint of parental authority, if at all, or in accommodation to the wishes of a wife or mother, or from respect to the decent proprieties of life; the gospel was heard without feeling and without interest; its solemn warnings were unheeded, and its invitations slighted; and the great interests of the soul were wholly neglected. The world was pursued as the grand end of living; plans of gain were formed and pressed earnestly to their completion; or the life was devoted to gaiety, without any fear of death, any apprehension of the coming judgment. In such a state, sin and the world had gained a victory, and the soul was held in the chains of a ser

vitude that was loved, and where the great powers of our nature had even ceased to struggle. Sleep, like the sleep of death, had crept silently over these faculties, and all was calm, and “Satan led the sinner captive at his will."

But these slumberings are now broken. The eyes have been opened on the reality of things. The spell has been dissolved. The voice of God is heard addressing the soul, and the aroused conscience now demands that attention shall be given to that voice. A new class of thoughts are summoned before the mind, and they come in such a way that the soul cannot but regard them. The law of God, forbidding all sin, with its severe and terrible sanctions; the demands of conscience; the evils of ingratitude; the dreadful condition of a heart that is as hard as adamant; the fearful state of one living without God and without hope; the terribleness of a death without religion; the guilt of having disregarded God, and of having trampled on the blood of his dying Son; the crime of having grieved the Holy Spirit, and of having slighted the means of grace; the memory of violated sabbaths and abused mercies; the sins of the past life— pride, selfishness, envy, lust, sensuality; the guilt of having disobeyed a parent, or of having ridiculed his religion, these and kindred topics now occupy the attention, and the mind can no longer calm them down as it did in past years, for some mysterious, invisible agency is pressing them upon the soul.

But, on the other hand, there are antagonist feelings as numerous, and, at present, as strong. There is the love of sin and of the world. There is the reluctance to be known to be serious. There is the dread of derision. There is the innate distaste for religion, and the long-cherished contempt for the gospel, and hatred of the name of Jesus. There is the pride which makes one unwilling to be seen by others reading the Bible, and the pride which makes one unwilling to pray, though alone. There is some fondly cherished plan pertaining to the world, which has been long in maturing, and which is now in the process of speedy completion. There are habits of sin which have been long indulged, from which it is now not easy to break away. There are associations of friendship or business pertaining to this world which it is difficult to sunder. There are bonds which unite to the world of gaiety and vanity, which it would require much moral courage, and much strength of resolution, and, I will add, much of the grace of God, to dissolve.

Hence the struggle-the warfare. The command of God; the sense of duty; the conviction of guilt; the apprehension of the wrath to come; the pleadings of the gospel; the love of Christ;

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