of God's displeasure, and a fear that he may be denied those spiritual pleasures he earnestly thirsts after. The cause of his trouble is not a chimera, it has a real existence in his breast, it has a painful and regular operation there, and he can reason in a plain sensible manner about it. Now, as the gospel is adapted to relieve the mind of those complaints, and is on that ac count styled the gospel or glad-tidings, so there are many passages wherein it is directly addressed to persons of this description. And many historical instances we meet with in the Bible of those who have been comforted and made happy by its encouraging reasonings and gracious promises. From the testimony therefore of Scripture, and the nature of the gospel itself, it may be rationally concluded, it cannot afford true joy to a heart that is not thus prepared to receive it. The degree indeed of affliction necessary to be endured, in order to prepare men for the cheerful reception of divine truth, it may not be for us to determine. God however knows: and some he leads on to the enjoyment of religious pleasures in a more gentle and gradual manner than others. But it stands to reason, that the joy the heart feels must bear some proportion to the anxiety it has suffered.

easy

Now vain light enthusiastic persons are in a great degree strangers to these painful exercises of mind we have been just describing. It is on a sudden, induced by some motive of curiosity, that they hear the word; as suddenly they receive it; and as suddenly they are elevated and transported by it. Their minds, previous to the joy they boast of, are wholly unoccupied with any serious substantial sentiments about divine things. Some persons, indeed, who come within the description of the text, may have had general convictions of sin, and alarming apprehensions of the wrath of God; but these painful feelings are desultory and temporary, and capable of being quickly allayed, if not entirely removed, by the stupifying opiate of worldly pleaWherefore a rapturous joy, which suddenly succeeds to a kind of dread that has no ingenuous disposition mingled with it, as well as a joy preceded by no anxiety at all; may be naturally suspected to originate in enthusiasm rather than religion.-But,

sures.

2. Let us inquire what it is that excites this joy.

The causes of that elevation of the spirits which we commonly call joy are various. Wine and other inebriating liquors give a brisk circulation to the blood and nervous fluids, and so exhilarate and gladden the heart. A sudden impression made on the senses by external objects will have the like effect. The reveries of the imagination, in a dream or delirium, will create a fascinating kind of pleasure. Admiration, wonder, and astonishment have a great influence to produce it. Yea, the more tender passions of pity and commiseration are accompanied with a degree of complacency and delight. So that joy may owe its existence to the senses, the imagination, and the tumultuous or soothing operation of the other passions; as well as to sound reasoning, and a well-grounded persuasion of real truth, and of our interest in the great blessings of it, which are the only legitimate sources of religious joy.

Now, this observed, it is easy to conceive how a man of the cast our Saviour here speaks of, may be said to receive the word with joy. In some instances it is the word itself, the mere sound without any idea affixed to it, that creates a joy. The effect is instantly and mechanically produced by the tone and cadence of the voice, accompanied by an appearance, attitude, and gesture that happen to please. The man is delighted, elevated, and surprised, and he knows not why. Facts might be mentioned directly in point. Some have been heard to say at the passing out of an assembly, in words to this effect, "What a heavenly preacher! he spoke like an angel-but I could not understand him." In other instances it is not the sound only, but the sense that affects. Here, however, it will be found, that the joy the man feels is purely the effect of his imagination being amused with objects new, great, and marvellous, or with scenes of a soft, tender, moving kind: and not of his heart's being relieved of a burden with which it had been oppressed, or his being comforted with the hope of obtaining that spiritual good he had thirsted after; for he had neither groaned under the burden of sin, nor had he aspired to true holiness.

To exemplify what we mean, we will suppose the preacher to describe the joys of heaven by striking figures taken from sensible objects. He holds up to view a paradise exquisitely beautiful and enchanting: the trees, shrubs, and flowers, all perfect

in their kind, arranged in the loveliest order, and affording a fragrance most delightful to the smell, and fruits most delicious to the taste; verdant banks, purling streams, shady bowers, transporting prospects; and the joy heightened, now by the soft melody of the grove, then the rapturous symphony of human voices, and then the loud and swelling notes of angelic bands. This, this, he assures the listening multitude is heaven here they shall enjoy increasing pleasures, without the least anxiety, pain or disgust; and without the most distant apprehension of either interruption or end. Is it to be wondered that such a scene, painted in the liveliest colours, beheld by a glowing imagination, and realized by unsuspecting credulity, should give ecstatic joy to a carnal heart? It is not. But is there religion in all this? Ah! no.

So likewise we may easily conceive how a pleasing kind of sensation, excited in the breast by a pathetic description of misery, particularly the sufferings of Christ, may be mistaken for religion. Many a one has heard this sad tale told, and instantly concluded from his feelings, which partook partly of pain and pleasure, that he loved Christ. The sensation, in these instances, is precisely the same with that which a tender spectator feels at a tragical exhibition in the theatre. And if I ́might be allowed to relate a little story I have somewhere met with, it would both illustrate and confirm what has been asserted. One of a compassionate disposition, but grossly ignorant, (perhaps an Indian) hearing for the first time in a Christian assembly a striking description of our Saviour's last passion, melted into tears; and after the service was over, eagerly besought the preacher to be ingenuous with him, and tell him whether the fact he had related was true, for he hoped in God that such a cruel deed could never have been perpetrated.

But to bring the matter still nearer. We will suppose what is said to be divested of all imagery, and that men are told in plain words that Jesus Christ came to procure for them the pardon of their sins, salvation from the miseries of hell, and a right to future and eternal happiness: I see no reason why a general apprehension of these truths and a general assent to them, may not excite some pleasure, yea even joy in their breasts, without their hearts being a whit the better. Can any one whose con

science tells him he has sinned, who feels remorse for it, and dreads the tremendous consequence of dying under the curse of Almighty God; can, I say, such person avoid being anxious? And if so, can he do otherwise than rejoice, when he apprehends, though the ground of the apprehension may be a mistaken one, that God has forgiven him?

What dread has the conscience of many an ignorant bigotted Papist felt from a conviction of his having sinned! And how happy has he instantly felt himself upon his having confessed to the priest and received absolution, while, alas! he has remained as wicked as ever! In this case truth is mixed with error, and the false joy he feels arises out of this corrupt mixture. He believes God is disposed to pardon sin for the sake of Christ. So, agreeable to the language of the text, he may be said to receive the word with joy. But then it is his mistaken notion about confession, and the power of the priest to absolve him, thus mingled with his general assent to the Christian doctrine, that has the main influence to excite that pleasing sensation he feels and boasts of. And the case is much the same with many Protestants as well as Papists. The man's conscience reproaches him for certain crimes, and he feels himself wretched. He is told God is merciful, and will forgive men their sins for Christ's sake. The news gives him joy, for he flatters himself he shall escape the punishment he dreaded. But his joy is without foundation, for he has no just idea of the evil of sin itself, no ingenuous sorrow for it, and no sincere desire to be delivered from it.

In like manner we may easily conceive how a man of this character may be amused, entertained, and even transported with a hope of heaven. He is told, and very truly too, that in heaven there is a perfect freedom from all pain and sorrow, and an uninterrupted enjoyment of the most exquisite delights. These tidings he receives with joy. But the moment he is told, that this freedom from pain is accompanied with a freedom from sin, and that these positive pleasures result from communion with a holy God, and a participation of his purity and rectitude; the moment, I say, he is told this, his joy abates, languishes, and dies. But I forbear. What has been said may suffice to enable us to distinguish on the important question, What it is that excites our joy.-We are next to consider,

3. What are the effects of it.

The joy a real Christian feels is sober, rational, well-grounded, and will admit of the most pleasing reflections.-He possesses himself: he can calmly reason upon the state of his mind, and those great truths and objects the contemplation of which makes him happy; and he can recollect the pleasures he has enjoyed on some special occasions with composure and satisfaction. -It humbles him. The higher he ascends the mount of communion with God, the less he appears in his own eyes. Those beams of the Sun of righteousness which gladden his heart, throw a light upon his follies and sins. With Job he abhors himself, and repents in dust and ashes a. And, as the apostle expresses it, thinks soberly of himself, as he ought to think b.His joy inspires him with meekness, candour and benevolence. It allays, if not entirely extinguishes, the rage of violent passion, fans the flame of fervent charity, and puts the soul into a temper to unite cordially with all good men, to pity the bad, and to forgive its bitterest enemies.-His joy, in a word, makes him watchful and holy. He rejoices with trembling, is upon his guard against every thing that may disturb the tranquillity of his mind, holds sin at a distance as his greatest enemy, and aspires with growing ardour to the likeness of the ever blessed God.

On the contrary, who that contemplates the character of the credulous self-deceived enthusiast, but must see what has been said of the real Christian awfully reversed in his temper and conduct? Is he sober, prudent, and self-collected? Ah! no. He is little better than a madman, or one drunk with wine wherein is excess. His heaven is a fool's paradise, and his account of it as unintelligible as the frantic talk of one in a delirium. Is he humble? Far from it. The pride of religious frenzy swells him into importance. Imagining himself a favourite of heaven, he looks down upon his fellow-mortals with an air of indifference, if not contempt-"Stand at a distance, I am holier than thou." Is he meek, candid, and benevolent? So much the reverse, that the very names of these virtues sound harshly in his ear, and stand for little else in his opinion than pusillanimity, formality, and hypocrisy. Is he conscientious and circumspect in his deportment? No; boasting of his freedom, he can take

a Job xlii. 6.

b Rom. xii. 3.