liberties that border on immorality, and treat the scruples of a weak believer as indicating a legal spirit. Superior to the drudgery of duties, he walks at large, in no danger of being thrown into suspense about his state towards God by what he calls human frailties; and not doubting but that his zeal, which, like the Persian scythes, mows down without mercy all beforè him, will open his way to a triumphant crown in heaven.

Now, all these things considered-what precedes-what excites-and what follows the joy our Saviour here speaks of, we shall be at no loss to distinguish clearly between the joy of an enthusiast, and that of a real Christian. To proceed,

Having thus received the word with joy, he professes himself a Christian. And thus much must be said in his favour, that being sure he is right, he is not ashamed of his faith. This ingenuity and frankness of temper secures him from all imputation of hypocrisy, and induces his friends to hope that with all his frailties he may possibly be a good man. So he is admitted to the participation of divine ordinances, is enrolled among the number of professing Christians, and for a while, allowing for the extravagancies of intemperate zeal, behaves himself in a manner not to be materially censured. But what is the event? Sad to say! Apostacy. But the consideration of this, with what follows, we shall refer to the next sermon.

In the meanwhile, let me beseech those who answer to the character we have been describing, to consider seriously their state towards God. Consideration is, I am sensible, what you are not accustomed to: but in a matter of such consequence as this, I would hope you will, at least for this once, yield to our request. Let me ask you then, Can you sincerely believe that a religion which consists wholly in a rapturous elevation of the passions, independent of the clear dictates of the judgment, and the governing dispositions of the heart, can be acceptable to God? Surely if there be such a thing as religion, it must originate in the understanding and conscience, and so diffuse its influence over the passions. It must consist in an affectionate regard to the divine authority, springing from a clear idea of the difference between good and evil, and an ardent desire to escape the latter and enjoy the former. And ah! how deplorable will your condition be, should you in the great day of ac

count, after all your flaming pretensions to religion, be found utterly destitute of it!

Nothing has, I hope, dropped in the course of this sermon which may convey an idea to any mind unfavourable to religion, as if it had no concern with the passions, and were not adapted to afford joy to the heart. It is indeed most interesting to the passions, and has been found, by the experience of the wisest and best of men, to be the pleasantest thing in the whole world. Let a man speculate as long as he will upon the great truths of religion, if he does not feel them, if they neither warm his heart nor influence his life, what is he the better? Neither his profound knowledge, nor the contempt in which he holds those of the opposite character for their ignorance and credulity, will do him any real good. The apostle Paul, with all his accurate and superior understanding of the great things of God, was a warm, lively, passionate Christian. He knew what it was to be transported on occasions almost beyond himself. Whether, says he to the Corinthians, we be beside ourselves, it is to God: or whether we be sober, it is for your cause. For the love of Christ constraineth us a. May we be such Christians as he was ! To conclude. What has been said will, I hope, have an effect to relieve the humble but afflicted Christian, of some uncomfortable doubts with which he may have been oppressed respecting his state towards God. You, my friends, who are of a timorous make, and, through various causes, of a sorrowful spirit, are strangers to the rapturous feelings of which these confident people we have been describing so much boast. But it does not from thence follow, that you are utterly unacquainted with the pleasures of religion, and that your hearts are not right towards God. You have seen the difference between good and evil; you have deeply lamented your sins, and hungered and thirsted after righteousness; you have cordially approved of that method of salvation divine grace has appointed, and have intrusted your immortal all to the hands of Christ. Why then should you fear? Be of good courage. The blessed Jesus is your friend, and he will keep what you have committed to him against the great day.

a 2 Cor. v. 13, 14.

PART II.

THE character of ENTHUSIASTIC hearers is now under consideration. Their temper and conduct are described with remarkable clearness and precision in the text. Some seeds fell

upon stony places, where they had not much earth; and forthwith they sprung up, because they had no deepness of earth.

And when the sun was up, they were scorched, and because they had not root, they withered away a. Our Saviour's exposition of this part of the parable runs thus, verse 20, 21.-' He that received the seed into stony places, the same is he that heareth the word, and anon with joy receiveth it: yet hath he not root in himself, but dureth for a while; for when tribulation or persecution ariseth because of the word, by and by he is offended.' Now here we have proposed to consider the character of these persons previous to their hearing the word-the effect it instantly produces on their minds-their failure afterwards-and the causes of it. The first two of these inquiries were the subjects of the preceding sermon, and we go on now,

III. To consider the lamentable apostacy of these deluded

men.

The seed that fell upon stony places, and forthwith sprung up, in a little time withered away. It did not rise into the stalk and ear, and so bear fruit; but the verdure passed off almost as soon as it was beheld, and the seed itself totally perished b. This our Lord explains of the unhappy man's enduring for a while, and then being offended; or, as Luke has it c, his believe ing for a while, and then falling away. Here two things will deserve our notice-the term of his profession-and the manner in which it is renounced.

1. The term of his profession is short.

Between the sowing of seed in the decline of the year and the reaping at the following harvest, there is a considerable intervening space but the seed the text speaks of springs up and is gone in a few days or weeks. So here-It is by degrees, and

b

a Matt. xiii. 5, 6.

-Primis segetes moriuntur in herbis ;

Et modo sol nimius, nimius modo corripit imber.—OVID,

c Chap. viii. 13.

for a course of years, the genuine Christian is advancing towards perfection. But alas! the poor, vain, unprincipled professor is instantly at the zenith of all his glory. Some indeed, hold it out longer than others; and the reason may be, because nothing remarkable arises from without to try their constancy, and to bring forward their real characters to view. But, for the most part, a short course of time shews what are men's principles and motives of conduct. Enthusiastic zeal, like inflammable air, quickly evaporates. The sources of that pleasure which gives existence to a spurious religion, and an equivocal devotion, are soon exhausted. The imagination tires, the senses are palled, and the passions, for want of novelty and variety to keep them alive, sink away into a languid, unfeeling, torpid state. Or, if the man is still the same restless being he ever was, some new object catches his attention, and puts an end to his former connexions and pursuits. His goodness, as the morning cloud and the early dew, passeth away a. Like a flaming meteor, having awhile drawn the attention of all around him, he disappears and vanishes into eternal oblivion. Of him we may say, in the language of the psalmist, How is he brought into desolation as in a moment! as a dream when one awaketh: so, O Lord, when thou awakest thou shalt despise his image b.-But, to be a little more particular,

2. In what manner does he renounce his profession?

He either silently quits it, or publicly disavows it. He is offended, stumbles, falls, falls away. He no longer maintains and defends the truth, no longer frequents the house of God, no longer associates with his fellow-Christians, no longer pays any attention to the duties of the family or the closet, if indeed he ever regarded them at all. The name by which he was called is obliterated, the place that knew him knows him no more; his religious connexions are dissolved; from the view of those with whom he had joined in Christian fellowship he withdraws; and bidding adieu to all that is serious and good, he mingles with the world, enters into their spirit and views, and in the general crowd of vain unthinking men, is forgotten and lost.

Or else, which is sometimes the case, he as openly and contumeliously casts off his profession, as he had hastily and pasPsal. lxxiii. 19, 20,

a Hos, vi. 4.

sionately assumed it. The faith he once swore to defend with the last drop of his blood, he now laughs at as an old wife's fable. The people with whom he had associated, he stigmatizes with the name of fools or impostors, the institutions of religion hé treats with sovereign contempt, the reins he throws on the neck of his brutal appetites, treads under foot the Son of God, counts the blood of the covenant wherewith he was sanctified an unholy thing, and does despite to the Spirit of grace a. He falls, and falls away so as not to be recovered again. For sinning thus wilfully after he had received the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins, but a certain fearful lookingfor of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries b.

How lamentable a case is this! What pious heart can think of it, without feeling for the honour of religion, and trembling for the wretched apostate! Ah, foolish, unhappy, disingenuous man! Is this the result of all thy boasted joys, thy flaming zeal, thy confident vows, thy solemn professions? Thou didst run well, in thine own apprehension and that of multitudes about thee; what hath hindered? Who hath bewitched thee, that thou shouldst renounce the truth, after having had Jesus Christ evidently set forth crucified before thine eyes? Would to God, that our remonstrances, expostulations, and entreaties might even yet make some impression on thy heart! But if that is past feeling, let however thy baseness and perfidy secure the sentence of divine justice for ever, from the charge of severity.—It remains that we now consider,

IV. The cause of these men's apostacy.

This our Saviour explains with admirable precision, by teaching us that it is partly owing to the want of something within essentially important to religion, and partly to a concurrence of circumstances from without unfavourable to the profession of it. 1. Something is wanting within.

The parable says, the seed forthwith sprung up because it had no deepness of earth; and it withered away, because it had no root, as Mark has it c; and lacked moisture, as it is expressed in Luke d. For want of a sufficient quantity of earth, the seed did not sink deep enough into the ground, and through the a Heb. x. 29. b Heb. x. 26, 27, c Chap. iv. 6. d Chap. viii, 6,