to be a voluntary, hateful rebel, darkly and malignantly fighting against his God. Yes, impenitent sinner, you have gone on in sin for a whole lifeyou have sinned against the light of reason and conscience. God fully warned you of your danger, but you would keep on: you were often en treated and urged, but you would not turn. And when God even sent his own Son to die for you, and his Spirit to influence, you scornfully trampled under foot the blood of the Son of God, and did despite unto his gracious Spirit. Does not such a sinner deserve punishment? Is it unjust to make him the eternal monument of Divine displeasure? You cannot say that you are waiting for the Spirit to help you; for you have all along been resisting the Spirit of God. There is no such thing as waiting for the Spirit of God to help you. What is called waiting for God's help is, in reality, determination not to turn. There is enough influence of the truth and Spirit already, if you, instead of resisting, will yield. If then you are finally and for ever cast out from the presence of God, you will go, not because you could not help it, nor for disobeying commands which you could not obey, but because you would choose death and hell. And as its fires kindle, and rage, and consume, through the dreary ages of eternity, you will feel that you deserve it all; that you have brought it upon yourself. Could you think that you had not been to blame, that you did not deserve hell, then you might despise its burnings, and despise the hand that kindles them: you might feel the proud and sustaining consciousness that you were an innocent and injured being. But, no: you will be eternally wrung with the bitter reflection that you are a self-destroyer,-the self-made victim of eternal wo! SERMON CLII. BY REV. G. W. PERKINS. THE SINNER'S ABILITY TO OBEY GOD, IF HE WILL. ISAIAH XXX. 10.-Prophesy not unto us right things, speak unto us smooth things; prophesy deceits. In the preceding discourse, I stated it as a well known fact, that men now, as well as anciently, disliked a kind of preaching which troubled them in their sins. I remarked that the doctrine of the future and eternal punishment of the impenitent was a truth so dreadfully alarming to one determined to go on in sin, that he either insisted upon smoother preaching, or else took refuge in some excuse, which could quiet his fears while he continued in sin. The refuge often taken is, that man is a being so frail as to be utterly unable to obey God, and does not, and cannot deserve to be eternally punished for not performing impossibilities. I stated too that this was the common refuge of sinners of every kind, when urged to the immediate performance of their duty that to every call to repentance the reply is, I cannot and that thus the mouth of the preacher is effectually stopped. For what sense or reason in urging a man to do impossibilities? Where is the use of preaching, until this matter is cleared up? Why preach repentance-present motives, and urge men to repentance, if they cannot repent? Why spend my breath, my strength, in urging a man to believe on Christ, if he cannot believe? How delightfully smooth and consoling, when conscience stings, and the Bible threatens, to think that, after all, no real blame can be attached to you! The lazy and inconsistent Christian, too, applies the same smooth and flattering unction to his soul. He is very slothful, and very worldly selfish, or prone to sin of some kind: he knows it; does not even attempt to deny it. But to break away from it will put him to too much trouble: endure the agonies of remorse and self-condemnation, he will not. He therefore saves himself all trouble and all remorse, by thinking man is too weak to obey God: I cannot be perfect, even if I desired it; I cannot do as well as I could wish. If I do as well as I can (which, by-the-way, in the mouth of such a man, always means, 66 as well as I find it convenient"), that is all that can be expected from me. Thus they live in the actual indulgence of sin, and yet keep their hopes firm and bright, and think they are in the path to heaven. They profess sorrow for their sins, to be sure; but it is such a kind of sorrow as they would feel for a broken limb, or a painful disease, or any thing else which they could not help, instead of the deep, "godly sorrow" which works reformation and holiness. It was my object to throw myself at once into this strong-hold of sin; to demolish, if possible, this refuge of the sinner; to elear away from the character of God the foul imputation of commanding impossibilities; and to show sinners of every kind, that they had no such excuse, that there is no such smooth doctrine for them; that each act and feeling of sin is their own guilty voluntary choice; deserving, and certain to receive, eternal punishment, unless repented of and forsaken. In order to do this, I stated the position, that men can obey God, if they will; and therefore deserve eternal punishment if they do not obey. In support of this, I alleged, first, the perfect harmony of this doctrine with the other doctrines and facts of scripture. I come now to a second argument, viz.— Man's own consciousness proves that he can obey God if he will. By this I mean, that every one, from simple self-inspection, knows, without any other proof, that he can do, if he will, what God commands him to do. He is conscious of it, just as he is conscious of any of his other powers or acts. When I apply my mind to any study, I am conscious that I possess the power of doing so when I dislike any individual, I know, or am conscious of such dislike. When I like any particular gratification or employ ment, I am perfectly conscious of such attachment. Thus the mind is conscious of, or takes cognizance of, its own powers and acts: possessing evidence of them, of a higher kind than any other evidence whatever. Now in every sin, if I reflect, I am perfectly conscious of this,-that I was choosing some other gratification, some other happiness, than that of pleasing and obeying God. No compulsion, or force of any kind, fixed my choice but I, in view of the circumstances, voluntarily made the choice I did. I take it for granted, then, that all others, who will take the trouble to examine their own minds, will find the same to be true. : him, just as you dislike a disgusting reptile; you may wish he were out of the way, just as you wish to get rid of any troublesome vermine; but you no longer consider him as wicked and blame-worthy. Thus, the ordinary sentiments and instinctive feelings of men furnish decided proof of what is true on this subject. When they see each other doing wrong, they never think of starting the question as to the ability of the individual to do right: it is taken for granted that he can, and blame is dealt out on the principle that he can. But if the wicked and rebellious son can give up that rebellion, and love and obey his parents, why can he not give up his enmity to God, and love and serve him? Why can he not give up his low and selfish propensities, and be a holy, heavenlyminded man? In all these cases the answer is the same: he can, but he will not. But perhaps it will be said, even if this doctrine be true, it is dangerous in its tendency: men will begin to think there is some good in them, and not feel as strongly the need of repentance and a change of heart, if you tell them, without any qualification, that they can obey God, but will not. What! if I tell men that every act and feeling of sin is their own voluntary choice of evil when they could do and feel right, is that likely to make them feel less guilty for their sin? When I tell them that they are living in sin, voluntarily and wickedly, every hour and moment of their existence, when they can and ought to be constantly loving and serving God, is this likely to make them feel that there is some good thing in them? But, on the other hand, suppose I did tell them that they could not obey God; would they not be very likely to suppose that they were doing about as well as they could, and that there was something, after all, pretty good in them? But perhaps it will be said that by urging the doctrine that men can obey God, I am encouraging them in presumption. But how is that? When I tell the sinner that he is, of his own choice, committing sin which deserves the eternal displeasure of God; that he has all his life long been treasuring up wrath, and that God most solemnly declares, unless he repents, he shall meet that wrath, is this likely to induce the sinner to cherish any presumptuous hopes of the mercy of God? Surely, if any truth could shake his presumption, and make him tremble, and seek to be reconciled to God, this would do it. On the contrary, I should suppose, if I told the sinner that, let him do his best, he could not obey, I was taking the very course to encourage the most presumptuous hope that he had little to fear from the wrath of God for not doing impossibilities. But it is said I thus at least encourage the sinner to defer the work of repentance, because he can do it at any time. He will say, "Why should I trouble myself about it now, when I can do it at any convenient opportunity?" It is true, I do tell the sinner to repent, and that he can repent, but I also tell him that every hour's continuance in impenitence most fearfully diminishes the probability that he ever will do it; that he is so firmly, and yet so voluntarily, fixed in his guilty love of the world, and love of sin, that he never will turn at all, unless the Spirit of God influences him; that the hope of salvation is just in proportion to the earnestness with which he now wakes up to these things; that he is |