«No améis al mundo, ni las cosas que están en el mundo. Si algún hombre ama al mundo,
el amor del Padre no está en él.» - 1 Juan ii. 15.
Hay dos maneras en las que un moralista práctico puede intentar alejarse de lo humano
corazón es su amor por el mundo, ya sea mediante una demostración de la vanidad del mundo, de modo que el
se convencerá al corazón simplemente para que retire sus saludos a un objeto que no es
digno de ello; o, al exponer otro objeto, incluso a Dios, como más digno de su apego,
para que el corazón se convenza de no renunciar a un antiguo afecto, que tendrá
nada para triunfar, sino para cambiar un viejo afecto por uno nuevo.
Mi propósito es demostrar que, a partir de la constitución de nuestra naturaleza, el primer método es
totalmente incompetente e ineficaz y que este último método bastará por sí solo para la
rescate y recuperación del corazón del mal afecto que lo domina. Después
una vez logrado este propósito, trataré de hacer algunas observaciones prácticas.
El amor puede considerarse en dos condiciones diferentes.
La primera es cuando su objeto está a distancia, y luego se convierte en amor en un estado de deseo.
La segunda es, cuando su objeto está en posesión, y entonces se convierte en amor en un estado de
indulgencia. Bajo el impulso del deseo, el hombre se siente impulsado hacia adelante por algún camino o
búsqueda de actividad para su gratificación. Las facultades de su mente se ponen en activo ejercicio.
En la dirección constante de un gran y fascinante interés, su atención se centra en
las muchas ensoñaciones en las que, de otro modo, podría haber deambulado; y los poderes de su
el cuerpo se ve obligado a alejarse de una indolencia en la que de otro modo podría haber languidecido; y que
el tiempo está abarrotado de ocupaciones que, de no ser por algún objeto de profunda y devota ambición,
podría haber sido una tontería en horas sucesivas de cansancio y disgusto, y aunque la esperanza
no siempre anima, y el éxito no siempre corona esta carrera de esfuerzo, sin embargo, en
en medio de esta misma variedad, y con las alternancias de ocasionales decepciones, está el
la maquinaria de todo el hombre se mantuvo en una especie de obra agradable, y se mantuvo en ese tono y
temperamento que le resulta más agradable.
Hasta el punto de que si, mediante la extirpación de ese deseo que constituye el origen
principio de todo este movimiento, la maquinaria debía detenerse y no recibir ningún impulso de
otro deseo en su lugar, el hombre se quedaría con todas sus propensiones a
acción en un estado de abandono sumamente doloroso y antinatural. Un ser sensible sufre, y
es violento si, después de haber descansado completamente de su fatiga o haber sido aliviado de su
dolor, continúa en posesión de poderes sin ningún tipo de entusiasmo por estos poderes; si
posee una capacidad de deseo sin tener un objeto de deseo; o si tiene una energía sobrante
sobre su persona, sin contrapartida y sin un estímulo que la pusiera en funcionamiento.
La miseria de tal condición a menudo la comprende quien está retirado de los negocios, o
que está retirado de la abogacía, o que incluso está retirado de las ocupaciones de la persecución, y de
la mesa de juego. Tal es la exigencia de nuestra naturaleza de perseguir un objeto, que no
la acumulación de éxitos anteriores puede extinguirlo y, por lo tanto, es que los más prósperos
mercader, y el general más victorioso y el jugador más afortunado, cuando el
el trabajo de sus respectivas vocaciones ha llegado a su fin, a menudo se encuentran languideciendo en el
en medio de todas sus adquisiciones, como si estuvieran fuera de su elemento afín y de regocijo. Está bastante de actualidad
vano con tal apetito constitucional por el empleo en el hombre, intentar cortar
de él la primavera o el principio de un empleo, sin proporcionarle
otro. Todo tu corazón y tu hábito se levantarán en resistencia contra tal empresa. El
de lo contrario, una mujer desocupada que pasa las horas de cada noche en algún juego de azar,
sabe tan bien como usted que la ganancia pecuniaria o el triunfo honorable de un exitoso
competencia, son totalmente insignificantes. No es una demostración de vanidad como esta lo que obligará
alejándola de su querida y encantadora ocupación. El hábito no puede ser desplazado de tal manera que
no deje nada más que una vacante negativa y desalentadora, aunque así sea
suplantado para ser seguido por otro hábito de empleo, al que el poder de
un nuevo afecto la ha limitado. Se suspende voluntariamente, por ejemplo, en cualquier
una sola noche, en caso de que el tiempo que no se asigne a ganar sea necesario dedicarlo a
los preparativos de una próxima asamblea. El poder ascendente de un segundo afecto
hará, lo que ninguna exposición, por más contundente que sea, de la locura y la inutilidad del primero,
nunca podría efectuarse.
Y lo mismo ocurre en el gran mundo. Nunca podremos detener a ninguno de sus líderes
persecuciones, mediante una demostración desnuda de su vanidad. Es en vano pensar en parar
una de estas actividades de cualquier otra manera, pero estimulando a otra. Al intentar traer
un hombre mundano decidido y ocupado con la persecución de sus objetos hasta un punto muerto, nosotros
no solo tenemos que encontrar el encanto que él añade a estos objetos, sino que tenemos que
encuentra el placer que siente al perseguirlos. No es suficiente,
entonces, que disipemos el encanto, mediante una exposición moral, elocuente y conmovedora de su
ilusividad. Debemos dirigir a los ojos de su mente otro objeto, con un poderoso encanto
lo suficiente como para despojar a la primera de sus influencias y dedicarlo a alguna otra
la fiscalía tan llena de interés, esperanza y actividad agradable como la primera.
Esto es lo que imprime impotencia a toda declamación moral y patética sobre la
insignificancia del mundo. Un hombre ya no consentirá la miseria de estar sin un
objeto, porque ese objeto es una nimiedad, o de no tener una búsqueda, porque esa búsqueda
termina en alguna adquisición frívola o fugitiva, que presentará voluntariamente
él mismo a la tortura, porque esa tortura debe ser de corta duración. Si es estar sin deseo
y sin esfuerzo alguno, es un estado de violencia e incomodidad, entonces el presente
el deseo, con su correspondiente serie de esfuerzos, no se puede eliminar simplemente destruyendo
eso. Debe ser sustituyéndolo por otro deseo y por otra línea o hábito de esfuerzo en su
lugar, y la forma más eficaz de alejar la mente de un objeto, no es mediante
convirtiéndolo en una vacante desolada e inpoblada, pero presentándole sus respetos
otro objeto aún más atractivo.
Estas observaciones se aplican no solo al amor considerado en su estado de deseo por un objeto, no
obtenido aún. Se aplican también al amor considerado en estado de indulgencia o plácido
gratificación, con un objeto ya en posesión. Es raro que alguno de nuestros gustos lo sea
hecho desaparecer por un mero proceso de extinción natural. Al menos, es muy raro que
esto se hace a través de la instrumentalidad del razonamiento. Puede hacerse de forma excesiva
mimos, pero casi nunca se hace por la mera fuerza de la determinación mental. Pero
lo que no se puede destruir, se puede desposeer y se puede probar para dar paso a
otro, y perder su poder por completo como afecto reinante de la mente.
Es así como el niño deja, por fin, de ser esclavo de su apetito, pero es porque un
un gusto más varonil lo ha llevado ahora a la subordinación, y ese joven deja de idolatrar
placer, pero es porque el ídolo de la riqueza se ha hecho más fuerte y ha obtenido el
ascendencia y que incluso el amor al dinero deja de dominar el corazón de
muchos son ciudadanos prósperos, pero es porque arrastrados por el torbellino de las políticas de la ciudad, otro
el afecto se ha introducido en su sistema moral, y ahora está dominado por el amor de
potencia. No hay ninguna de estas transformaciones en la que el corazón se quede sin un
objeto. Su deseo por un objeto en particular puede ser vencido; pero en cuanto a su deseo de tener
some one object or other, this is unconquerable. Its adhesion to that on which it has
fastened the preference of its regards, cannot willingly be overcome by the rending away of
a simple separation. It can be done only by the application of something else, to which it
may feel the adhesion of a still stronger and more powerful preference. Such is the grasping
tendency of the human heart, that it must have a something to lay hold of - and which, if
wrested away without the substitution of another something in its place, would leave a
void and a vacancy as painful to the mind, as hunger is to the natural system. It may be
dispossessed of one object, or of any, but it cannot be desolated of all. Let there be a
breathing and a sensitive heart, but without a liking and without affinity to any of the
things that are around it; and, in a state of cheerless abandonment, it would be alive to
nothing but the burden of its own consciousness, and feel it to be intolerable. It would
make no difference to its owner, whether he dwelt in the midst of a gay and goodly world;
or, placed afar beyond the outskirts of creation, he dwelt a solitary unit in dark and
unpeopled nothingness. The heart must have something to cling to - and never, by its own
voluntary consent, will it so denude itself of its attachments, that there shall not be one
remaining object that can draw or solicit it.
The misery of a heart thus bereft of all relish for that which wont to minister enjoyment, is
strikingly exemplified in those, who, satiated with indulgence, have been so belaboured, as
it were, with the variety and the poignancy of the pleasurable sensations they have
experienced, that they are at length fatigued out of all capacity for sensation whatever. The
disease of ennui is more frequent in the French metropolis, where amusement is more
exclusively the occupation of the higher classes, than it is in the British metropolis, where
the longings of the heart are more diversified by the resources of business and politics.
There are the votaries of fashion, who, in this way, have at length become the victims of
fashionable excess - in whom the very multitude of their enjoyments, has at last
extinguished their power of enjoyment - who, with the gratifications of art and nature at
command, now look upon all that is around them with an eye of tastelessness - who, plied
with the delights of sense and of splendour even to weariness, and incapable of higher
delights, have come to the end of all their perfection, and like Solomon of old, found it to be
vanity and vexation. The man whose heart has thus been turned into a desert, can vouch for
the insupportable languor which must ensue, when one affection is thus plucked away
from the bosom, without another to replace it. It is not necessary that a man receive pain
from anything, in order to become miserable. It is barely enough that he looks with distaste
to every thing - and in that asylum which is the repository of minds out of joint, and where
the organ of feeling as well as the organ of intellect, has been impaired, it is not in the cell of
loud and frantic outcries, where we shall meet with the acme of mental suffering. But that is
the individual who outpeers in wretchedness all his fellows, who, throughout the whole
expanse of nature and society, meets not an object that has at all the power to detain or to
interest him; who, neither in earth beneath nor in heaven above, knows of a single charm to
which his heart can send forth one desirous or responding movement; to whom the world,
in his eye a vast and empty desolation, has left him nothing but his own consciousness to
feed upon dead to all that is without him, and alive to nothing but to the load of his own
torpid and useless existence.
It will now be seen, perhaps, why it is that the heart keeps by its present affections with so
much tenacity - when the attempt is, to do them away by a mere process of extirpation. It
will not consent tobe so desolated. The strong man, whose dwelling-place is there, may be
compelled to give way to another occupier - but unless another stronger than he, has
power to dispossess and to succeed him, he will keep his present lodgment unviolable. The
heart would revolt against its own emptiness. It could not bear to be so left in a state of
waste and cheerless insipidity. The moralist who tries such a process of dispossession as
this upon the heart, is thwarted at every step by the recoil of its own mechanism. You have
all heard that Nature abhors a vacuum. Such at least is the nature of the heart, that though
the room which is in it may change one inmate for another, it cannot be left void without
the pain of most intolerable suffering. It is not enough then to argue the folly of an existing
affection. It is not enough, in the terms of a forcible or an affecting demonstration, to make
good the evanescence of its object. It may not even be enough to associate the threats and
the terrors of some coming vengeance, with the indulgence of it. The heart may still resist
the every application, by obedience to which, it would finally be conducted to a state so
much at war with all its appetites as that of downright inanition. So to tear away an
affection from the heart, as to leave it bare of all its regards and of all its preferences, were
a hard and hopeless undertaking - and it would appear, as if the alone powerful engine of
dispossession were to bring the mastery of another affection to bear upon it.
We know not a more sweeping interdict upon the affections of Nature, than that which is
delivered by the Apostle in the verse before us. To bid a man into whom there has not yet
entered the great and ascendant influence of the principle of regeneration, to bid him
withdraw his love from all the things that are in the world, is to bid him give up all the
affections that are in his heart. The world is the all of a natural man. He has not a taste nor a
desire, that points not to a something placed within the confines of its visible horizon. He
loves nothing above it, and he cares for nothing beyond it; and to bid him love not the
world, is to pass a sentence of expulsion on all the inmates of his bosom. To estimate the
magnitude and the difficulty of such a surrender, let us only think that it were just as
arduous to prevail on him not to love wealth, which is but one of the things in the world, as
to prevail on him to set wilful fire to his own property. This he might do with sore and
painful reluctance, if he saw that the salvation of his life hung upon it. But this he would do
willingly, if he saw that a new property of tenfold value was instantly to emerge from the
wreck of the old one.
In this case there is something more than the mere displacement of an affection. There is
the overbearing of one affection by another. But to desolate his heart of all love for the
things of the world, without the substitution of any love in its place, were to him a process
of as unnatural violence, as to destroy all the things that he has in the world, and give him
nothing in their room. So that, if to love not the world be indispensable to one's
Christianity, then the crucifixion of the old man is not too strong a term to mark that
transition in his history, when all old things are done away and all things become new. We
hope that by this time, you understand the impotency of a mere demonstration of this
world's insignificance. Its sole practical effect, if it had any, would be. to leave the heart in a
state which to even heart is insupportable, and that is a mere state of nakedness and
negation. You may remember the fond and unbroken tenacity with which your heart has
often recurred to pursuits, over the utter frivolity of which it sighed and wept but
yesterday. The arithmetic of your short-lived days, may on Sabbath make the clearest
impression upon your understanding - and from his fancied bed of death, may the preacher
cause a voice to descend in rebuke and mockery on all the pursuits of earthliness - and as
he pictures before you the fleeting generations of men, with the absorbing grave, whither
all the joys and interests of the world hasten to their sure and speedy oblivion, may you,
touched and solemnized by his argument, feel for a moment as if on the eve of a practical
and permanent emancipation from a scene of so much vanity.
But the morrow comes, and the business of the world, and the objects of the world, and the
moving forces of the world come along with it - and the machinery of the heart, in virtue of
which it must have something to grasp, or something to adhere to, brings it under a kind of
moral necessity to be actuated just as before - and in utter repulsion to wards a state so
unkindly as that of being frozen out both of delight and of desire, does it feel all the warmth
and the urgency of its wonted solicitations - nor in the habit and history of the whole man,
can we detect so much as one symptom of the new creature - so that the church, instead of
being to him a school of obedience, has been a mere sauntering place for the luxury of a
passing and theatrical emotion; and the preaching which is mighty to compel the
attendance of multitudes, which is mighty to still and to solemnize the hearers into a kind
of tragic sensibility, which is mighty in the play of variety and vigour that it can keep up
around the imagination, is not mighty to the pulling down of strong holds.
The love of the world cannot be expunged by a mere demonstration of the world's
worthlessness. But may it not be supplanted by the love of that which is more worthy than
itself?
The love of the world cannot be expunged by a mere demonstration of the world's
worthlessness. But may it not be supplanted by the love of that which is more worthy than
itself? The heart cannot be prevailed upon to part with the world, by a simple act of
resignation. But may not the heart be prevailed upon to admit into its preference another,
who shall subordinate the world, and bring it down from its wonted ascendancy? If the
throne which is placed there must have an occupier, and the tyrant that now reigns has
occupied it wrongfully, he may not leave a bosom which would rather detain him than be
left in desolation. But may he not give way to the lawful sovereign, appearing with every
charm that can secure His willing admittance, and taking unto himself His great power to
subdue the moral nature of man, and to reign over it? In a word, if the way to disengage the
heart from the positive love of one great and ascendant object, is to fasten it in positive love
to another, then it is not by exposing the worthlessness of the former, but by addressing to
the mental eye the worth and excellence of the latter, that all old things are to be done away
and all things are to become new. To obliterate all our present affections by simply
expunging them, and so as to leave the seat of them unoccupied, would be to destroy the
old character, and to substitute no new character in its place. But when they take their
departure upon the ingress of other visitors; when they resign their sway to the power and
the predominance of new affections; when, abandoning the heart to solitude, they merely
give place to a successor who turns it into as busy a residence of desire and interest and
expectation as before - there is nothing in all this to thwart or to overbear any of the laws of
our sentient nature - and we see how, in fullest accordance with the mechanism of the
heart, a great moral revolution may be made to take place upon it.
This, we trust, will explain the operation of that charm which accompanies the effectual
preaching of the gospel. The love of God and the love of the world, are two affections, not
merely in a state of rivalship, but in a state of enmity - and that so irreconcilable, that they
cannot dwell together in the same bosom. We have already affirmed how impossible it
were for the heart, by any innate elasticity of its own, to cast the world away from it; and
thus reduce itself to a wilderness. The heart is not so constituted; and the only way to
dispossess it of an old affection, is by the expulsive power of a new one. Nothing can exceed
the magnitude of the required change in a man's character - when bidden as he is in the
New Testament, to love not the world; no, nor any of the things that are in the world for
this so comprehends all that is dear to him in existence, as to be equivalent to a command
of self-annihilation.
But the same revelation which dictates so mighty an obedience, places within our reach as
mighty an instrument of obedience. It brings for admittance to the very door of our heart,
an affection which once seated upon its throne, will either subordinate every previous
inmate, or bid it away. Beside the world, it places before the eye of the mind Him who made
the world and with this peculiarity, which is all its own - that in the Gospel do we so behold
God, as that we may love God. It is there, and there only, where God stands revealed as an
object of confidence to sinners and where our desire after Him is not chilled into apathy, by
that barrier of human guilt which intercepts every approach that is not made to Him
through the appointed Mediator. It is the bringing in of this better hope, whereby we draw
nigh unto God - and to live without hope, is to live without God; and if the heart be without
God, then world will then have all the ascendancy. It is God apprehended by the believer as
God in Christ, who alone can dispost it from this ascendancy. It is when He stands
dismantled of the terrors which belong to Him as an offended lawgiver and when we are
enabled by faith, which is His own gift, to see His glory in the face of Jesus Christ, and to
hear His beseeching voice, as it protests good will to men, and entreats the return of all
who will to a full pardon and a gracious acceptance_it is then, that a love paramount to the
love of the world, and at length expulsive of it, first arises in the regenerated bosom. It is
when released from the spirit of bondage with which love cannot dwell, and when admitted
into the number of God's children through the faith that is in Christ Jesus, the spirit of
adoption is poured upon us - it is then that the heart, brought under the mastery of one
great and predominant affection, is delivered from the tyranny of its former desires, in the
only way in which deliverance is possible. And that faith which is revealed to us from
heaven, as indispensable to a sinner's justification in the sight of God, is also the instrument
of the greatest of all moral and spiritual achievements on a nature dead to the influence,
and beyond the reach of every other application.
Thus may we come to perceive what it is that makes the most effective kind of preaching.
Itis not enough to hold out to the world's eye the mirror of its own imperfections. It is not
enough to come forth with a demonstration, however pathetic, of the evanescent character
of all its enjoyments. It is not enough to travel the walk of experience along with you, and
speak to your own conscience and your own recollection, of the deceitfulness of the heart,
and the deceitfulness of all that the heart is set upon. There is many a bearer of the Gospel
message, who has not shrewdness of natural discernment enough, and who has not power
of characteristic description enough, and who has not the talent of moral delineation
enough, to present you with a vivid and faithful sketch of the existing follies of society. But
that very corruption which he has not the faculty of representing in its visible details, he
may practically be the instrument of eradicating in its principle. Let him be but a faithful
expounder of the gospel testimony unable as he may be to apply a descriptive hand to the
character of the present world, let him but report with accuracy the matter which
revelation has brought to him from a distant world - unskilled as he is in the work of so
anatomizing the heart, as with the power of a novelist to create a graphical or impressive
exhibition of the worthlessness of its many affections - let him only deal in those mysteries
of peculiar doctrine, on which the best of novelists have thrown the wantonness of their
derision. He may not be able, with the eye of shrewd and satirical observation, to expose to
the ready recognition of his hearers, the desires of worldliness but with the tidings of the
gospel in commission, he may wield the only engine that can extirpate them. He cannot do
what some have done, when, as if by the hand of a magician, they have brought out to view,
from the hidden recesses of our nature, the foibles and lurking appetites which belong to it.
But he has a truth in his possession, which into whatever heart it enters, will, like the rod
of Aaron, swallow up them all - and unqualified as he may be, to describe the old man in all
the nicer shading of his natural and constitutional varieties, with him is deposited that
ascendant influence under which the leading tastes and tendencies of the old man are
destroyed, and he becomes a new creature in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Let us not cease then to ply the only instrument of powerful and positive operation, to do
away from you the love of the world. Let us try every legitimate method of finding access to
your hearts for the love of Him who is greater than the world. For this purpose, let us, if
possible, clear away that shroud of unbelief which so hides and darkens the face of the
Deity. Let us insist on His claims to your affection - and whether in the shape of gratitude,
or in the shape of esteem, let us never cease to affirm, that in the whole of that wondrous
economy, the purpose of which is to reclaim a sinful world unto Himself - he, the God of
love, so sets Himself forth in characters of endearment, that nought but faith, and nought
but understanding, are wanting, on your part, to call forth the love of your hearts back
again.
And here let us advert to the incredulity of a worldly man; when he brings his own sound
and secular experience to bear upon the high doctrines of Christianity - when he looks on
regeneration as a thing impossible - when feeling as he does, the obstinacies of his own
heart on the side of things present, and casting an intelligent eye, much exercised perhaps
in the observation of human life, on the equal obstinacies of all who are around him, he
pronounces this whole matter about the crucifixion of the old man, and the resurrection of
a new man in his place, to be in downright opposition to all that is known and witnessed of
the real nature of humanity. We think that we have seen such men, who, firmly trenched in
their own vigorous and homebred sagacity, and shrewdly regardful of all that passes before
them through the week, and upon the scenes of ordinary business, look on that transition
of the heart by which it gradually dies unto time, and awakens in all the life of a new-felt
and ever-growing desire towards God, as a mere Sabbath speculation; and who thus, with
all their attention engrossed upon the concerns of earthliness, continue unmoved, to the
end of their days, amongst the feelings, and the appetites, and the pursuits of earthliness. If
the thought of death, and another state of being after it, comes across them at all, it is not
with a change so radical as that of being born again, that they ever connect the idea of
preparation. They have some vague conception of its being quite enough that they acquit
themselves in some decent and tolerable way of their relative obligations; and that, upon
the strength of some such social and domestic moralities as are often realized by him into
whose heart the love of God has never entered, they will be transplanted in safety from this
world, where God is the Being with whom it may almost be said that they have had nothing
to do, to that world where God is the Being with whom they will have mainly and
immediately to do throughout all eternity. They admit all that is said of the utter vanity of
time, when taken up with as a resting place. But they resist every application made upon
the heart of man, with the view of so shifting its tendencies, that it shall not henceforth find
in the interests of time, all its rest and all its refreshment. They, in fact, regard such an
attempt as an enterprise that is altogether aerial - and with a tone of secular wisdom,
caught from the familiarities of every-day experience, do they see a visionary character in
all that is said of setting our affections on the things that are above; and of walking by faith;
and of keeping our hearts - in such a love of God as shall shut out from them the love of the
world; and of having no confidence in the flesh; and of so renouncing earthly things as to
have our conversation in heaven.
Now, it is altogether worthy of being remarked of those men who thus disrelish spiritual
Christianity, and, in fact, deem it an impracticable acquirement, how much of a piece their
incredulity about the demands of Christianity, and their incredulity about the doctrines of
Christianity, are with one another. No wonder that they feel the work of the New
Testament to be beyond their strength, so long as they hold the words of the New
Testament to be beneath their attention. Neither they nor any one else can dispossess the
heart of an old affection, but by the expulsive power of a new one - and, if that new
affection be the love of God, neither they nor any one else can be made to entertain it, but
on such a representation of the Deity, as shall draw the heart of the sinner towards Him.
Now it is just their unbelief which screens from the discernment of their minds this
representation. They do not see the love of God in sending His Son unto the world. They do
not see the expression of His tenderness to men, in sparing Him not, but giving Him up unto
the death for us all. They do not see the sufficiency of the atonement, or the sufferings that
were endured by Him who bore the burden that sinners should have borne. They do not
see the blended holiness and compassion of the Godhead, in that He passed by the
transgressions of His creatures, yet could not pass them by without an expiation. It is a
mystery to them, how a man should pass to the state of godliness from a state of nature -
but had they only a believing view of God manifest in the flesh, this would resolve for them
the whole mystery of godliness. As it is, they cannot get quit of their old affections, because
they are out of sight from all those truths which have influence to raise a new one. They are
like the children of Israel in the land of Egypt, when required to make bricks without straw
- they cannot love God, while they want the only food which can ailment this affection in a
sinner's bosom - and however great their errors may be both in resisting the demands of
the Gospel as impracticable, and in rejecting the doctrines of the Gospel as inadmissible, yet
there is not a spiritual man (and it is the prerogative of him who is spiritual to judge all
men) who will not perceive that there is a, consistency in these errors.
But if there be a consistency in the errors, in like manner is there a consistency in the truths
which are opposite to them. The man who believes in the peculiar doctrines, will readily
bow to the peculiar demands of Christianity. When he is told to love God supremely, this
may startle another; but it will not startle him to whom God has been revealed in peace,
and in pardon, and in all the freeness of an offered reconciliation. When told to shut out the
world from his heart, this may be impossible with him who has nothing to replace it - but
not impossible with him, who has found in God a sure and a satisfying portion. When told
to withdraw his affections from the things that are beneath, this were laying an order of self
extinetic* upon the man, who knows not another quarter in the whole sphere of his
contemplation, to which he could transfer them - but it were not grievous to him whose
view has been opened up to the loveliness and glory of the things that are above, and can
there find for every feeling of his soul, a most ample and delighted occupation. When told to
look not to the things that are seen and temporal, this were blotting out the light of all that
is visible from the prospect of him in whose eye there is a wall of partition between guilty
nature and the joys of eternity - but he who believes that Christ hath broken down this wall,
finds a gathering radiance upon his soul, as he looks onwards in faith to the things that are
unseen and eternal. Tell a man to be holy and how can he compass such a performance,
when his alone fellowship with holiness is a fellowship of despair? It is the atonement of
the cross reconciling the holiness of the lawgiver with- the safety of the offender, that hath
opened the way for a sanctifying influence into the sinner's heart; and he can take a
kindred impression from the character of God now brought nigh, and now at peace with
him. - Separate the demand from the doctrine; and you have either a system of
righteousness that is impracticable, or a barren orthodoxy. Bring the demand and the
doctrine together - and the true disciple of Christ is able to do the one, through the other
strengthening him. The motive is adequate to the movement; and the bidden obedience of
the Gospel is not beyond the measure of his strength, just because the doctrine of the
Gospel is not beyond the measure of his ac ceptance. The shield of faith; and the hope of
salvation, and the Word of God, and the girdle of truth - these are the armour that he has
put on; and with these the battle is won, and the eminence is reached, and the man stands
on the vantage ground of a new field, and a new prospect. The effect is great, but the cause
is equal to it - and stupendous as this moral resurrection to the precepts of Christianity
undoubtedly is, there is an element of strength enough to give it being and continuance in
the principles of Christianity. The object of the Gospel is both to pacify the sinner's
conscience, and to purify his heart; and it is of importance to observe, that what mars the
one of these objects, mars the other also. The best way of casting out an impure affection is
to admit a pure one; and by the love of what is good, to expel the love of what is evil.
Thus it is, that the freer the Gospel, the more sanctifying is the Gospel; and the more it is
received as a doctrine of grace, the more will it be felt as a doctrine according to godliness.
This is one of the secrets of the Christian life, that the more a man holds of God as a
pensioner, the greater is the payment of service that he renders back again. On the tenure
of "Do this and live,” a spirit of fearfulness is sure to enter; and the jealousies of a legal
bargain chase away all confidence from the intercourse between God and man; and the
creature striving to be square and even with his Creator, is, in fact, pursuing all the while
his own selfishness, instead of God's glory; and with all the conformities which he labours
to accomplish, the soul of obedience is not there, the mind is not subject to the law of God,
nor indeed under such an economy ever can be. It is only when, as in the Gospel,
acceptance is bestowed as a present, without money and without price, that the security
which man feels in God is placed beyond the reach of disturbance - or, that he can repose in
Him, as one friend reposes in another - or, that any liberal and generous understanding can
be established betwixt them - the one party rejoicing over the other to do him good - the
other finding that the truest gladness of his heart lies in the impulse of a gratitude, by
which it is awakened to the charms of a new moral existence.
Salvation by grace - salvation by free grace - salvation not of works, but according to the
mercy of God - salvation on such a footing is not more indispensable to the deliverance of
our persons from the hand of justice, than it is to the deliverance of our hearts from the
chill and the weight of ungodliness. Retain a single shred or fragment of legality with the
Gospel, and we raise a topic of distrust between man and God. We take away from the
power of the Gospel to melt and to conciliate. For this purpose, the freer it is, the better it is.
That very peculiarity which so many dread as the germ of antinomianism, is, in fact, the
germ of a new spirit, and a new inclination against it. Along with the light of a free Gospel,
does there enter the love of the Gospel, which, in proportion as we impair the freeness, we
are sure to chase away. And never does the sinner find within himself so mighty a moral
transformation, as when under the belief that he is saved by grace, he feels constrained
thereby to offer his heart a devoted thing, and to deny ungodliness. To do any work in the
best manner, we should make use of the fittest tools for it.
And we trust, that what has been said may serve in some degree, for the practical guidance
of those who would like to reach the great moral achievement of our text - but feel that the
tendencies and desires of Nature are too strong for them. We know of no other way by
which to keep the love of the world out of our heart, than to keep in our hearts the love of
God - and no other way by which to keep our hearts in the love of God, than building
ourselves up on our most holy faith. That denial of the world which is not possible to him
that dissents from the Gospel testimony, is possible even as all things are possible, to him
that believeth. To try this without faith, is to work without the right tool of the right
instrument. But faith worketh by love; and the way of expelling from the heart the love
which transgresseth the law, is to admit into its receptacles the love which fulfilleth the
law.
Conceive a man to be standing on the margin of this green world; and that, when he looked
towards it, he saw abundance smiling upon every field, and all the blessings which earth
can afford scattered in profusion throughout every family, and the light of the sun sweetly
resting upon all the pleasant habitations, and the joys of human companionship
brightening many a happy circle of society - conceive this to be the general character of the
scene upon one side of his contemplation; and that on the other, beyond the verge of the
godly planet on which he was situated, he could descry nothing but a dark and fathomless
unknown. Think you that he would bid a voluntary adieu to all the brightness and all the
beauty that were before him upon earth, and commit himself to the frightful solitude away
from it? Would he leave its peopled dwelling places, and become a solitary wanderer
through the fields of nonentity? If space offered him nothing but a wilderness, would he for
it abandon the homebred scenes of life and of cheerfulness that lay so near, and exerted
such a power of urgency to detain him? Would not he cling to the regions of sense, and of
life, and of society ? - and shrinking away from the desolation that was beyond it, would not
he be glad to keep his firm footing on the territory of this world, and to take shelter under
the silver canopy that was stretched over it? But if, during the time of his contemplation,
some happy island of the blest had floated by; and there had burst upon his senses the light
of its surpassing glories, and its sounds of sweeter melody; - and he clearly saw, that there,
a purer beauty rested upon every field, and a more heartfelt joy spread itself among all the
families; and he could discern there, a peace, and a piety, and a benevolence, which put a
moral gladness into every bosom, and united the whole society in one rejoicing sympathy
with each other, and with the beneficent Father of them all. - Could he further see, that pain
and mortality were there unknown; and above all, that signals of welcome were hung out,
and an avenue of communication was made for him - perceive you not, that what was
before the wilderness, would become the land of invitation; and that now the world would
be the wilderness?
What unpeopled space could not do, can be done by space teeming with beatific scenes, and
beatific society. And let the existing tendencies of the heart be what they may to the scene
that is near and visibly around us, still if another stood revealed to the prospect of man,
either through the channel of faith, or through the channel of his senses - then, without
violence done to the constitution of his moral nature, may he die unto the present world,
and live to the lovelier world that stands in the distance away from it