much pleasure in appropriating it to themselves, as they enjoyed in parting with it, for the good of the common cause? Instances of the like kind, in individuals at least, are not wanting in modern times. Such instances our recent revivals have supplied. The joy of the Lord is the strength of revivals, and who knows not that revivals are the church's only hope, both for the means and the men by which the world is to be converted?

Assuredly, we want nothing else to replenish the treasury of the Lord, and supply all requisite resources, but that the hearts of Christians should cease to be so void of real sensible enjoyment of God, with which they should be always full. Had the church but that fountain within herself, to draw from, rivers of treasure, if needed, would be at her command; and she could supply at once, the very ends of the earth, with the means of salvation. She could have a missionary in spirit in each of her sons and daughters. It is this blessedness I speak of, which looses the tongues of Christians, and makes them eloquent, in teaching every man his neighbor, and every man his brother, that knowledge of God and Christ which is unto life eternal. Restore to me the joy of thy salvation, said the mourning Psalmist, then will I teach transgressors thy ways. It would wing their feet for swift journies through the length and breadth of the earth, and the glad tidings of saving love would spread from land to land, and be heard in every island, every hamlet, every dwelling on the globe before the present generation has passed away.

And finally, we are not sure, that if the joy of the Lord pervaded the christian church, to the degree to which it might, and by all means should extend, the work of saving the world would not go on of itself, almost without labor. Certain it is, that in that condition of things labor would itself be joy; but may we not believe, (now that Christianity is no stranger in the earth, but has for eighteen hundred years, been giving infallible proof of her celestial descent, and her continued connexion with the place of her origin,) that the necessity for patient and agonizing effort, if the church were in the state supposed, would be superseded?

Heaven then would in a sense come down to earth; the tabernacle of God would be with men; and mankind would know and see the place of happiness; and would they not also by the grace of God, through the operation of that new spectacle, be drawn thitherwards as of themselves? The nature of man still

inclines him after happiness. The disappointment of six thousand years has not abated the strength of this indestructible propensity. Who can tell, but that such a sight as the general church of Christ, filled with the joy of the Lord, would, under the divine blessing, determine that propensity to its proper end? That it is of all things the best adapted to have this effect, is certainly a good reason for supposing that the Spirit of grace, who is also the Spirit of fitness and order, would prefer it before any other instrumentality. For our own part, we cannot but think it would do more in a few years, independently of labor, than the labor of many ages without it. It would make the church a wonder in the earth. The mountain of the Lord's house would stand upon the top of the mountains; it would be illuminated with divine glory; its lustre would outshine that of the sun; it would enlighten the world; the remotest nations would see it, and would not all nations flow unto it?

The world hitherto has not regarded the church as the seat of blessedness. It has had too little reason thus to regard it. Religion, by old report, is happiness, but it is religion as contained in books, not as dwelling in the hearts or as shining out in the examples of its professors. With comparatively few exceptions, since the primitive times, the lives of Christians have misrepresented the spirit of their religion. The world have judged it a sour, unhappy, gloomy spirit; and they have not wanted occasion to do so. They who have called themselves Christians have seemed little happier than others. The great majority of them have practically declared their religion a gloomy thing, by going to the world itself for pleasure. Of the rest, the generality seem to pass through life, either with just enough of interest in religion to keep their membership in the church; or in a cold, perfunctory preciseness; or in austerities which make religion identical with penance; or in a forced driving zeal, which bespeaks more of fierceness than of calm, heavenly peace and joy. A few noble exceptions indeed there have been, but to the world's eye these exceptive cases have commonly been lost, in the multitude of their gloomy or carnally happy brethren.

Has not the church been the dwelling place, rather of doubt and fear, than of sensible delight in God? Is it not the way of even the best of her members to be habitually questioning in themselves whether they be not reprobates, instead of exulting in the full assurance of hope? Besides, has not the church

been almost continually a scene of contention, and confusion and bitter wrath, a dread and terror, rather than a charm to the world? Oh, let it not be said that the experiment of what may be done to save the world by the influence of a general example of spiritual peace and joy has yet been tried. Enough has been ascertained to encourage the highest expectation; the successes of the first Christians, the fruits of the individual examples of such blessed men as Baxter, Flavel, and Edwards, beget the greatest confidence as to what would be the result of experiment; but the experiment remains to be made. Come the day when it shall be in full operation. Hope is fixed on the appearance of that period, and that it will appear, can there be a doubt? Have not the prophets declared it? The Lord in his compassion cut short its delay; make Jerusalem a rejoicing, and so a praise, in the earth; give to all Christians, in answer to the prayer of Christ, that unity of soul, in which the Father and the Son are united to each other, the unity of divine love and joy. Then shall our unhappy world learn the error of its way, forsake the broken cisterns of sin, and come to the Fountain of living waters.

These considerations make it manifest that none of those who call themselves Christians, ought to live so much as one day, or one hour, except when taking their rest in sleep, without the feeling of spiritual delight, potentially at least, in their hearts. It should suffice no member of the christian church, to maintain a conversation externally irreproachable, to live in honesty and in credit with mankind, and to observe the stated times and services of religion; no, not even, if in addition to this, he sets an example of liberality. This is but a low standard of religion, and no man who has any just concern for the cause of God in this world, or for his own salvation, can content himself with it. A man may live in this manner, and live in darkness, in coldness, in fear, respecting his own soul, and his fear may be realized. Every Christian on earth ought to be a specimen of the happiness Christianity is adapted to impart; a reflector by example of the light of heavenly joy. He ought to be not only a conscientious, a devout, a liberal Christian, but a happy Christian also, happy in God and the spirit of heaven, all the day long. He owes it to the cause of his Saviour, to himself, his family, his brethren in the faith, the world of mankind, to live a serene, cheerful and heavenly life. This is plainly a just infe

rence from the preceding remarks; and it is an inference which divine authority confirms. To rejoice in the Lord, is a command urged with great earnestness upon all Christians. Scripture is exceedingly strenuous in its mode of enforcing this command: Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice. What has been said may show us that there is a sufficient reason for this requirement, and is it not strange indeed, that Christians, whose characteristic spirit is submissiveness to the divine will, should scarcely seem to blame themselves for an habitual disregard of it? What more could God have done, than he has done, to give his people grounds and occasions of joy? Has he kept his glory out of their view? Has he not shown himself good enough? Could he have loved them more than he has done? Could he have made greater sacrifices for their sakes? Could he have gone to greater lengths to win their complacency, than to give up his own dear Son, for the ransom of their souls? Could he have added a greater blessing after that, than to send down his Spirit to dwell with them forever? Could he have been more explicit and more full in his assurances of kind feeling and tender love? Could he have given them better promises, or spread before them brighter prospects, or called them to greater privileges, or to a more honorable service? Has not God seemed in all his dispensations and doings towards his people, to have had distinctly in his purpose, that they should want nothing which infinite love could supply, to call forth their joy and gladness of soul? When by his apostle, he lifts up the voice of authority, Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, rejoice can they be justified in replying to him, we have no causes for joy; the state of mind required demands an object suited to produce it, and no such object has been presented to us?

There are, it may be thought, subjective difficulties in the way. But can it be that there are insurmountable difficulties of this kind, when obligation to rejoice is in full force upon the mind? Who can believe this? Surely nothing but mental insanity, or such a condition of the body as sets aside self-control, in either of which cases, obligation ceases, can be a just apology for not exercising holy joy. So abundant are the promises of divine grace, that if we are not straitened in ourselves, we may be able to keep up a calm and cheerful and heavenly frame of spirit in any circumstances of worldly discomposure which do not produce a real derangement of intellect. The triumph of

some Christians over such circumstances has been complete; nervous debility, severe sickness and pain, and the very agonies of dissolution have not been able to keep them from rejoicing in the Lord. If any feel incredulous in respect to this matter, let us ask them to consider whether if they walked as closely with God, as did Baxter or Paul or Enoch, they would be likely to retain their present doubts. Alas, we destroy the health of the body, by our reckless way of treating it, and then make bodily indisposition an excuse for keeping the soul in darkness and leanness and spiritual distempers!

The plain truth is this, that what hinders our joy is allowed sin. The power of sin to do this, is great. This little hand, said Whitefield, placing his hand near his eyes, as he was preaching in the field, while the glorious sun was flooding creation with his beams, this little hand hides all the lustre of the sun from my eyes; and so a little sin may involve the soul in darkness, though the spiritual world be all bright as heaven itself! But should we therefore be content to live in darkness, or set ourselves with more resolution against all forms, and degrees of sin? The latter is the course of duty, and is it not also the course of wisdom? Is it idle to ask the question, What manner of persons ought we to be in all holy conversation and godliness? Why is it, we do not understand, that our only concern in this world is to keep a guileless spirit, a conscience void of offence? Alas, that we should suffer such things as love of lucre or of preeminence or of sensual pleasure, or jealous and envious and irascible feelings, to rest in our bosoms, and stay there from day to day, and week to week, and month to month, in the place which should be ever sacred to the gracious affections; in the temple of the Holy Ghost! Alas, that we should be so infrequent, so cursory, so cold in prayer; so seldom in fastings, so formal and lifeless in the duties of the sanctuary that we should be so uncircumspect in speech, so little intent on walking in the Spirit; in all the pursuits of life, so regardless of the great principle of Christian morals, which demands that we do all things, even to eating and drinking, to the glory of God that we should have so little fellowship, (might we not rather say, such disagreement?) with Paul, in his purpose to do but this one thing all his life long, forgetting the things behind, and reaching forth to those before, to press towards the mark, for the prize of his high calling? Here is the secret of our want of religious joy, of our spiritual doubts