contact.

Of two objects, other things being equal, that exerts the most powerful influence, which bears most directly upon our condition, which mingles itself most with our thoughts, and operates upon us most constantly, and meets us in the greatest variety of circumstances. But we have seen that the infidel's God is a being who takes comparatively little interest in human concerns; that he is too lofty to condescend to the meaner affairs of this world, and is clothed with a degree of abstraction which seems to remove him almost beyond the range of human conceptions. We have seen, on the other hand, that the Christian's God meets him everywhere; that He is the strict observer of all his actions; that he marks even the most secret feelings of his heart with reference to a retribution; that in infinite condescension he manifests himself through the medium of man's own nature; and that the whole scheme of his government in respect to redemption is fitted to keep the eye of man intensely fastened upon the character of God. Who then can doubt that a belief in the God of the Christian is the most operative?

Then again, a belief in the Christian's God exerts the greatest amount of influence, because there is far more in his character to make an appeal to the active principles of our nature. Take, for instance, the principle of gratitude, one of the most powerful principles of the human breast-how much more is there to waken this into exercise in the character of the Christian's God than of the God of the infidel! How much more has the former done than the latter, how much more is he doing every hour, especially as the God of redemption, for the benefit of man! Confidence too-another powerful principle of action—there is much more in the Christian's God to awaken this; for not only does he confer greater present benefits than the other, but he has condescended to make the most glorious promises, and write them down, and even seal them with blood, and moreover fulfils them in the Christian's every-day experience. And even the principle of fear, the Christian's God appeals to with more success than the God of the infidel; for the awful attributes of his character come forth with more distinctness, and his threatenings are a matter of fearful and certain record, and even while he sits upon the throne of his mercy, He proclaims to every sinner that he is in danger of everlasting burnings. And the same is true of all the other active principles of man's nature: a belief in the God of the Bible is incalculably more sovereign in its influence over them than a belief in the God of the infidel.

We arrive then, on two separate grounds, at the conclusion, that a belief in the Christian's God exerts the greatest amount of influence. But we all know that a cause may operate powerfully, and yet not benignly, upon the human character. It is necessary therefore, in order to establish the point we have in view, to show that the same belief exerts not only the greatest amount, but the noblest kind, of influence.

And that we may come at the truth on this point in a single word, let me ask you to bear in mind that from the very constitution of our nature, our characters become assimilated to the object of our supreme homage. The only question then is, if indeed it be a question, whether the infidel's God or the Christian's God is the more excellent and glorious? If you doubt, then say whether you regard that Being the more glorious who has no certain character, or the Being whose character is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever? Whether is it more glorious to take a sort of general supervision of the works of his hands, leaving much to the caprice of accident, or to behold every

thing with an eye of watchful regard, and to direct every thing by the dictates. of infinite w.sdom? Or is it more glorious to exist merely in the abstract perfections of his nature, or to exhibit his attributes in higher though softer majesty in the person of his Son? Or finally, is it more glorious to exist only as the Creator and the Ruler of the world, or also as its Redeemer; to put forth no effort for the salvation of man, or to make a new and loftier development of his character, and to exhibit a union of apparently opposite attri butes in the combined grandeur and loveliness of a righteous and forgiving. God? The Christian's God then does possess a more exalted character than the God of the infidel: it follows therefore, from the law of our nature to which we just adverted, that a belief in the former exerts the nobler influence. Our first inquiry then is answered. If a belief in the God of the Christian exe ts at once the greatest amount of influence, and the noblest kind of influence, we come fairly to the conclusion that it is best fitted to exalt the human character.

But I cannot dismiss this point without making an appeal to fucts. Consult then the records of infidelity and the records of Christianity, or bring your: own observation to testify on this subject, and tell me where you find the most of true moral dignity and excellence. I do not say that you cannot point me to a character which has been formed under the influence of a belief in the infidel's God, that is not entirely shorn of the naturally amiable qualities that. belong to human nature; but I challenge you to point me to one, which, in the sober estimate of even the infidel's conscience, exhibits a high degree of moral virtue. You may now and then find a man of this description, who is inoffensive in his intercourse with his fellow-men, and whose character is not stained with open vice; but never will you find one of lofty virtuous aspirations; never one whose actions are conformed to a high standard of moral excellence; and in the great majority of instances (I dare say it with all the records of infidelity spread out before me) you will find the infidel a selfish, grovelling, not to say a malignant being. He, on the other hand, who sincerely trusts and devoutly worships the Christian's God, exhibits a character which bears the genuine impress of moral worth. Not only the external actions, but the thoughts, the purposes, the feelings, the whole man rises up continually towards the perfection of virtue. Where will you find characters formed by faith in the infidel's God like those of Howard, and Wilberforce, and Thornton, and Edwards, and a multitude of others, whose names illumine the record of Christianity? Bring by the side of these the names of Paine, and Boling-. broke, and Rousseau, and the whole catalogue of their associates, and the infidel himself, if he has not bid adieu to shame as well as to virtue, must blush at the comparison.

2. Our second inquiry is, whether the God of the infidel or of the Christian is best adapted to meet man's necessities?

Man needs a guide. His-lot is cast in a world in which a variety of paths sometimes open before him, and he is at loss which of them either his duty or his safety requires that he should take. Some of these paths are thickly beset with snares, and he cannot enter them but at an incalculable. haz ird. There are opposite influences to which he is liable to yield, some of which may subserve his advantage, others conduce to his injury, and he is in danger of mistaking the one for the other. Hence he needs a faithful and infallible guide, whom he may consult with confidence in every variety of con

dition. Such a guide he cannot find in his fellow-man; for he is as weak and ignorant, and liable to mistake as himself. It can be no other than the Infinite God; and let me say, it is the Christian's God, and not the God of the infidel. For what encouragement is there to apply for direction to the latter? Where has he made a pron.ise that he will hear the prayers which are directed to him for guidance and aid; and is there any thing in the character which is attributed to him, especially as concerning himself little with human affairs, to warrant the belief that he will listen to the supplications of mortals? And let me ask whether the infidel himself does not feel this? Else how is it to be accounted for that infidels so rarely, if ever, pray; nay, that so many of them actually ridicule prayer as unnecessary and even absurd ?

But the Christian's God is as far removed from the God of the infidel, in ́ this respect, as the east is from the west. Not only is there every thing in his character to encourage the hope that he will hear the prayers which are offered him in sincerity and faith, but there is a direct promise;―a promise that he will grant his Spirit to guide his people into all truth, to preserve them from all error, to conduct them through difficulties, to resolve their doubts, and to give them confidence in the discharge of duty. This promise the Christian's God constantly fulfils, as every one who obeys and confides in him can testify. As you would not then abandon yourself to walk in perpetual darkness; as you would have a guide whom you may always consult without the possibility of being deceived, I would say, let this God be your God for ever and ever.

But man needs a protector as well as a guide; for he is not only in a world of darkness but of danger. Innumerable evils encompass him about, and there is not an hour or a moment but that he is walking amid perils, and for aught he can tell, may be walking on the borders of destruction. In these circumstances, he surely needs the guardianship of some superior Power. Will the infidel's God afford him the protection which he needs? But he is little more than an indifferent spectator of human affairs; and who has told you that he will concern himself with your condition at all? Does the infidel himself trust him? In seasons of calamity, when the world shows its dark side, and the heart is overburdened with sorrow; above all, in the final wreck of his nature, when the spirit pants for protection such as the world cannot give, does he ever call upon his God for relief; and does his God ever appear for him, granting the relief and consolation which he needs? I can point you to many an instance in which the infidel, at such an hour, has turned away from the being to whom he has professedly given his homage, and made an agonizing effort to approach the Christian's God, but I ask you to point me to one in which he has even seemed to trust the infidel's God; much more to one in which he has trusted and found a refuge. The truth is, that at such a season, reason and conscience get the ascendency even in the infidel; and he is compelled to feel that to supplicate the being whom he is accustomed to call God for aid in these circumstances, were a mockery of his own wo. It were alike vain and absurd to fall upon his knees, and ask the special proteçtion and favour of a Being, to whom he does not allow the exercise of a particular providence.

In the Christian's God, there is every thing to encourage confidence in him as a Protector. For his watchful care is universal and uninterrupted. His eye is everywhere, and his arm is irresistible. And while his providence is

in the highest degree particular, he has promised his special protection to those who put their trust in him. And the record of the fulfilment of this promise is written in the experience of all his people. The Christian has called upon God for deliverance in the day of his trouble, and he has been delivered. In the day of sickness, in the day of bereavement, in the day of death, trusting in the Lord, he has been enabled to rejoice with joy unspeakable. And where the Christian is not shielded from the arrows of adversity, even where he is not delivered from the hand of the destroyer, he enjoys the favour of his God still; for adversity is made to yield a harvest of blessing, and death becomes the gate of immortal glory. Well may he say, while he confides and rejoices in the divine protection, "Who is so great a God as our God?"

But finally, and above all, man needs a Savior. Is the God of the infidel or the God of the Christian best adapted to meet this exigency of his condition? There are those, I know, who treat sin, the great moral disease of man's nature, as if it were a mere matter to be laughed at; and of course nothing else can be expected but that they should deny the necessity of any redeeming interposition. But the truth is, that in all this there is little sincerity. The infidel is a man; and he is constituted like other men; and like other men he has a conscience, which sometimes raises a tumult in his breast, by convicting him of guilt and pointing his eye towards a retribution. Every man has evidence, independently of all external testimony,-evidence which he is sometimes compelled to feel that he is a sinner, and as such is exposed to the divine displeasure; that woes heavy and appalling await him unless his sins are forgiven. Now suppose, that with that sense of sin which every man feels at some time or other, you were to think to draw near to the infidel's God for the remission of your sins, and the cleansing of your soul; and supposing him to be all that reason, by her best efforts, can prove him to be ;-I ask you whether you do not perceive at once that your case would be well-nigh desperate? For it cannot be denied that well directed reason attributes to the Supreme Being perfect justice and holiness: of course these attributes require that sin should be punished; and the alternative is, that the infidel's God must either punish sin or sacrifice his perfection. When it is remembered, at the same time, that he has given no intimation of pardoning mercy, where is the shadow of encouragement to a sinner to seek forgiveness; or the shadow of hope that it can in any way be extended to him? And if the sinner takes counsel of his conscience, he will find that he needs not only to be forgiven, but sanctified; that a divine influence is necessary to give a right direction to the faculties and principles of his nature, and thus render nim capable of spiritual enjoyment. Will you go to the infidel's God to seek this blessing? But where have you learned that He is a sanctifying God? Reason has not told you so. Conscience has not told you so. Nature has not told you so. Rely on it, you are groping in the dark, and may as well fold your arms and sit down in despair.

Turn now to the God of the Christian, and behold in him the Savior that you need! He reveals himself as the Lord our Righteousness, and the Lord our strength; as the just God and the merciful; as forgiving iniquity, not at the expense of his perfections, but in a manner which renders his perfections more gloriously conspicuous—through the sacrifice of his own Son. And he gives his Spirit too, as the Sanctifier of the people; to subdue their

rebellion, to implant within them a principle of holiness, and to train them up for an eternal residence in the heavens. I appeal to the noble army of martyrs, and the spirits of the just made perfect-the redeemed who cast their crowns at the foot of the throne, whether this be not so. And lest this should seem like a blind sally of imagination, I appeal to you, Christians, yet in the midst of your conflict,-to every one of you who worships the Christian's God in sincerity and in truth--whether it be not so. Can you not stand up and testify for your God, that when your conscience was burdened wit guilt, he graciously removed the burden by the application of the blood of his Son; that while sin rankled unsubdued in your bosom, he struck a blow which disarmed it of its power; that in all your conflicts his grace strengthens you; and that you carry in your bosom a pledge that his grace will perfect your sanctification, and confer upon you an unwithering crown?

I cannot conclude without applying this argument in one word to a practical use. Let me ask then, who among you all will dare to trust his interests for time and eternity in the hands of the infidel's God? Dare you trust him as your guide, when there are so many devious paths in which you are in danger of being lost; especially when he has given you no promise of his guidance, and there is nothing in his character which should lead you to expect it? Dare you trust him as a refuge, when you do not know that he even hears

the prayers which you send up to him in your trouble; and when you do know that there is not an hour of your life, but that every earthly refuge is liable to fail you? Dare you trust him as a Savior, when he claims no such character? Dare you approach him with your heart burdened with guilt, and plead with him for forgiveness, when he has said nothing and done nothing to inspire the least hope of pardon, and when, for aught that you can see, pardon must involve the wreck of his attributes? Dare you ask him to sanctify you, or grant you grace to help in time of need, when, as a sinner, you have forfeited every favor, and have become obnoxious to his wrath? Dare you trust him in the hour of your extremity? Dare you lift up your eyes to him on the bed of death, and ask him to save you: amid the shudderings of guilt, amid the convulsions of pain, amid the uncertainty, the darkness, perhaps the wailings, of that last hour, dare you, I ask, take the God of the infidel for your portion, and throw that deathless spirit of yours on his protection for eternity? Above all, dare you do this, when thousands who have done it before you have testified in the dark valley that they were without a refuge, and have died reproaching themselves for their wretched infatuation?

I know that there is not one of you but would shudder to answer these fearful interrogatories in the affirmative; not one who dares to sit down and deliberately count the cost, and then commit his interests for time and eternity into the hands of the infidel's God. And if you dare not do it deliberately, and with your eyes open, be not so infatuated as to leap inconsiderately into these territories of doubt, and horror, and death. Turn your eye then towards the God of the Christian, and you will find a Being infinitely venerable, altogether lovely; a Being, the devout contemplation of whose character will exalt you from glory to glory; whom you may confidently trust as a guide, a protector, and a Savior; who will sustain you by the right arm of his power and grace while the current of life is ebbing away; and who will keep your immortal spirit safe and happy amid the shocks of the last day.