to the embosoming of his whole rational creation. They appeal, in the first instance, to the spontaneous movements of the mind; availing themselves of all our better emotions, and shedding abroad their attractive influences, upon whatever there is of good, or of spiritual, in the original susceptibilities of our nature. They spread before us bland images, interesting associations, and endearing realities; and thus, they invite the soul of man to draw near with faith, and to rejoice, while it trembles, before the Lord of glory. By this adaptation to our native principles, the inward graces of religion, instead of being dissipated in the abstractions of theism, are blended with the thoughts, and incorporated into the habits, of ardinary life. What is dark in man, is thus gradually enlightened; what is sensual, purified; what is selfish, expanded; what is variable, stayed: he is insensibly disciplined to higher aims, and endued with more spiritual capacities; until, at length, in fulness of disposition and of power, the soul is fixed on HIM who inhabiteth eternity.

83

SERMON IV.

HEBREWS, IV. 15.

For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.

IN ordinary life, the springs of action are either general rules, or particular impulses. General rules are more permanent and equable; they partake more of the character of virtue, and are suited to the dignity of a pure intelligence. Particular impulses, on the other hand, act with greater energy, and connect the agent more closely with the object. They are, also, of more extensive application; and, except where they lead to physical evil, they contain something more grateful to our apprehension. This brief statement might suffice, to suggest the probability, that the motives which regulate our religious conduct, are, also, susceptible of a similar division. But the importance of the subject renders it not unseasonable, to pursue the analogy with somewhat more minuteness.

He, who knows what is in man, has left nothing of consequence, in our temporal affairs, to the unassisted operation of principle. We all claim the posses. sion of reason; most of us aspire to the character of virtue. Yet, neither reason nor virtue has been

considered, by the Deity, as a sufficient security for the performance of His will. We have wants, feelings, inclinations, and aversions; and, from these wild seeds of nature's planting, are found to spring, the preservation of animal life, the advance of social order, the improvement of arts, and the progress of knowledge. Thus, the fountains of every thing connected with our present well-being, may be traced to particular affections. Have we, then, any reason for supposing, that the well-being of our future life needs not to be guarded, by a similar provision? None will pretend, that its concerns are of less magnitude; and yet, rare, indeed, is the man, whose conscience can testify, that he is not more tardy, in providing for those imperishable concerns, than he is, in attending to the petty wants of the moment.

We may urge the analogy still further. There is no department of worldly exertion, in which the mere prosecution of general rules lifts men above the level of a mean mediocrity. Many, indeed, by such means, may avoid gross errors, or may extort the faint praise of correctness. But, in general estimation, they scarce attract one passing glance; always obscure, and soon forgotten. Excellence springs from something proper to the individual; from something, which indicates a harmonious aptitude between the object of pursuit, and the elements of the human constitution; from something, which, after making every allowance for general rules, we must specially refer to the finger of God.

Now, in those exertions of which Deity is the object, mediocrity is not only mean, but hazardous. Such exertions present an arduous and boundless course, in which general rules would be too feeble to propel, and too vague to guide us. They are matters of momentous and individual concern, in which the disciple is urged continually to press forward. The gospel, therefore, in insisting upon perpetual advancement, must suppose the existence, or the communication, of some peculiar principles, by which alone such advancement can be effected.

But, to return to every-day life. It is no rare thing, to meet with persons, who are diligent to fulfil the duties of their several relations; and yet no dew of divine favour, appears to descend in blessing, upon the performance. If the temperament be naturally cold, or if its warmth be not happily elicited, no flowers strew the path of duty; no time arrives when conscientious exertion rewards itself; to the agent it is still unpleasing, to the object unsatisfactory. There is, indeed, a wisdom, which would teach us, that the offices are due, not to persons, but to circumstances. But the heart listens not to such wisdom. Its impulse is to offer, and its desire to receive attention, not from extrinsic or adventitious considerations, but upon grounds personal and unalienable. Then, and then only, it derives true solace from the interchange of social charities; then, it swells with that secret and refreshing consciousness, which springs from the coincidence of duty and inclination.

Thus, we may perceive, that, when God requires the offering of his children's love, the demand is enforced by the analogy of this life. It harmonizes with that devotement, which we all feel to be necessary, for the comfortable management of our temporal affairs. Even the coldest and most calculating among us, is not influenced exclusively by views of self-interest. Affection and association, original propensity or acquired taste,—these are, in general, the leading principles of conduct. To attract us, similarly, to our greatest good, by enabling us to find a pleasure in religion; to impart a taste for its exercises, and to incorporate its duties with our natural affections, these are among the chief revealed purposes of the incarnation of Christ. Men may be impressed with a settled conviction, that the favour of God is their first interest. Yet, if they feel no especial impulse, of which that favour is the appropriate object, they will be but languidly excited by the general principle. There will descend upon the heart none of that fire from heaven, without which its offering must remain cold and unaccepted.

Something of this nature may be observed, in men, who, in other respects, appear the fairest recipients of a spiritual religion. It appears, therefore, to be well established, that, independently of general rules, some definite principle, some particular affection, which shall attract the soul directly to its God, is requisite in order to an advanced and cheerful piety. Nor is this the sum of our conclusion.

We do not perceive the neces