Matter, to be partner of his throne. But as the two could not work together without a Mediator, Sanga is added. And then the slope was easy down to Pantheism.

Thus have we touched the two extremes of a bald and sterile Unity on the one side, and a gorgeous Pantheism on the other. And each has its roots within us. It cannot be driven from the mind, that God is One; nor can it be driven from the heart, that we must have him near us in his works, near us in our weakness and our sin. Finite feebleness pleads not merely for an arm of Infinite Power to bear it up; it pleads for a Father's arm. Finite apostasy pleads not merely for a Father's mercy; but pleads also for a Brother's love. Finite waywardness, sobbing over its frequent wanderings, pleads not merely for outward encouragement, but pleads also for an inward comforting and help.

Such are the cravings of our nature. And there is no response to them, but in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Herein do we learn that God is One, but a God of grace, teaching us to call him Father; revealing himself in the redeeming Christ, in whom dwelt all the fulness of the Godhead bodily; and now working, through the Spirit to sanctify our hearts, and regenerate a disordered world.

Here stands our Christian Theology. It gives us, on the one hand, no stern Allah of Mohammed; nor, on the other hand, does it mock us with the Pantheistic mist of a universally diffused Intelligence; but it gives us our God in Christ, reconciling the world to himself, and each to all.

II. Our Doctrine of Nature. Here, all around us, is a material Universe apparently entirely antipodal to Spirit. Matter and Spirit seem, indeed, to stand in a sharp antagonism, dividing the Universe between them. What, now, are the relations subsisting between these two? What has God to do with Nature? Or Nature with God? These are questions, as I need not tell you, which have always perplexed the Philosophers. Did Nature beget God, or did God beget Nature? Or, still again, have they co-existed from Eternity in an eternal rivalry? To answer the first of these inquiries in the affirmative, would give us Pantheism. To answer the last in the affirmative, would give us Dualism. While it has been difficult to answer the second in the affirmative, declaring Nature to be of God, without doing some violence to our faith in the Divine Benevolence.

Natural Theology in our day, with its Bridgewater Treatises, is very confident of its ability to reason out the Existence, Power, Wisdom, and Goodness of God from the works of Nature. But one of its positions, which it has to take, is a virtual confession of lameness in the argument. It is not in every instance, but only in "a vast plurality of instances," that the Divine Goodness is affirmed to be clearly visible. Some evils are admitted to exist.

What shall be done with them? Paley says, they have only to be voted down. The voices of gladness, it is argued, are against the voices of wailing as a hundred to one. And so we settle the question with a pencil upon our slates.

But ages ago there came this verdict from Lucretian: "I dare affirm that the present economy of things was not divinely ordered, since there is so much of evil in it." And, sweeping as it is, this conclusion of the old philosopher has yet something of reason in it. The evils complained of, are manifest and grievous; and more in number, too, than Paley is quite willing to admit. Three-fourths of the surface of our globe is surrendered to the sterile, devouring sea. Swamps and deserts deform the land. Tempests and lightnings torture and tear the sky. War is the law of the animal kingdom, from the top to the bottom of the scale. Each species lives by preying upon the species next under it. Man also is subject to disease, and suffering, and death. It may be urged that happiness is in the ascendant. No doubt it is. But why so much of misery? Why any misery at all, in a world created and managed by a Being of boundless Benevolence and Power?

It used to be said, that God at first made the world, as he made man perfect; and that the present disordered state of it has been brought about since the Fall, and in consequence of the Fall. But modern science has utterly exploded this clumsy theory. Death was in the world, as declared by Fossil Geology, ages before man made his appearance here. Death, with all its attendant fears and sufferings. And the presumption is a very fair one, that, in every respect, the present economy of things about us in the world, is very nearly what it was in the beginning, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy. There has been, accordingly, no Fall of Nature; only a Fall of Man.

As to the disorders observed in Nature, Christianity looks down upon them with entire composure from a lofty height. The solution is simply this, that the world was left imperfect in anticipation of its moral history. It was preconfigured to its career of sin. The Drama required a fitting Theatre. Sin needed its shadows and echoes in an eclipsed and discordant economy. But sin is not alone here. Redemption is wrestling mightily against it. The world, then, is not a prison, but a school-room; not a grave-yard, but a battle field. We are here for conflict, and for discipline. Christ is at once our Captain, and our Example. Voices from Heaven cheer us on. Angels of God whisper courage and patience. The evils and miseries appointed us, are only spurs and stimulants to virtue.

Such is our Christian Philosophy of Nature. It denies no facts, and glosses none. It admits all the jangling and friction. It bends in meekness and reverence to hear the sighs and the

wailing. And still it clings to Nature as a child of God, contending for us, and contending with us, to accomplish our redemption.

III. Our Doctrine of Man. First of all, the essential character of man has been a sore puzzle to mere Philosophy. Sometimes the ground is taken, that man is altogether such as his Maker would have him to be; guilty of no sins, burdened by no depravity.

But such a position is utterly untenable. The conscience of the race is against it. All human experience is against it. All human legislation is against it.

Sometimes, on the other hand, the ground is taken, that men are not mere men, as they appear to be, but ruined angels, put here on a new probation, to see if, perhaps, one or more in a thousand of them may not somehow be reclaimed.

And so our speculation swings and surges about, while we are seeking to know ourselves. It is only the Gospel that can give us rest. According to this, Sin is indeed acknowledged as a startling, monstrous development, but is not wholly divorced from the righteous and merciful Providence of God. It had some sort of place amongst the eternal Counsels of God. It was permitted, we are taught to say. Without excuse or palliation; wholly chargeable upon man himself; and yet permitted. This much is required by reason; for sin is certainly in the world, and the world is God's world. But this alone, though not to be denied, would only distress and stagger us. Forever should we toss our questions against the Heavens, demanding to know the meaning of this tremendous permission.

Christianity resolves the difficulty by presenting the remedy provided. This also lay in the counsels of God. It was promised as soon as needed; and the whole history of our race has been what Edwards so nobly described it, a History of Redemption. A man now may murmur if he will. But that will only prove him perverse. For Redemption stands over against Sin, as Gerizim against Ebal, meeting the shouted curse with a shouted blessing.

Next arises the great question of human destiny. Out of Christ, the historic problem is a very hard one. It might most plausibly be argued, that human progress is all a fiction; that nations, like individuals, have their youth, their manhood, and their inevitable decay; and that the course of history, from the beginning, has been nothing better than the constant revolving of a wheel. Reasons might also be given for believing, that modern Society, almost everywhere, is in its decadence, and that the end is near.

But looking with an eye of faith upon the present and the past, we discern a Divine Form moving about. It is not the nations, but the Church, that God has cherished as the apple of his eye.

and slowly rode away. There I stood, and forgot to bring my hammer down. "Greatly concerned for my salvation!" It rung through my ears like a thunder-clap. If he had reasoned with me, I could have confounded him. But here is a new argument. What shall I do? I went and told my pious wife. She urged me to go and see the man. As I entered his little room, I said to him, "My dear Sir, I have come to tell you that I am greatly concerned for my own salvation." "Praised be God," said the aged Christian. And there we kneeled down together, and yielded our broken spirits up to Christ." Go forth, my brethren, and with the same emotion and prayer and earnestness, present God's truth, by the fire-side and the way-side, and how noble will be your co-operation.

One word, in closing, to my venerable fathers and brethren in the ministry. How stupendous the weight that presses upon us! What can equal it? The glory of God, the destiny of souls, and our own last account. I cannot, my dearly beloved, instruct you, but I can weep with you, over the desolations of the past, and the gloom of the future. I can go down with you to the shore of eternity, and there look out upon the interminable waste. Scowling tempests are gathering there, and dark spirits from the bosom of our people, are going out there. They will wander, and never find rest. They will miserably perish. Our people are to be divided. We stand with them at the last tribunal. "No creature breathes." The voice of God pierces every soul. "Come ye blessed." "Depart ye cursed." And now they are mounting up. Every saved soul shouts for joy. He honors God. He sparkles, as a gem, in the crown of Jesus. But here they are sinking down. The gate of hell grates harshly as they enter. And now the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever. And is there one here whose heart is untouched by such scenes? Do you struggle feebly for your people? Beware, my brother, lest yon be found wanting in the benevolence of Christ. Christ loved these souls. Christ died for them. And if any man, be he elder, bishop, or pope, "If any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of his." God does not promise heaven to the faithless preacher. His doom of all others will be most terrific.

"What scene is this, (says Griffin,) that I behold in hell? A lurid shape, more scarred with thunder than the rest, around which a crowd of dreadful beings, with furious eyes, and threatening gestures, are venting their raging curses. It is an unfaithful Pastor. Those around him are his wretched people. My soul turns away, and cries, Give me poverty-give me the curses of the wicked-give me the martyr's stake. "But oh! my God, sav me from the doom of the unfaithful minister." But are you suit. ably affected by the guilt and hazard of your people? Does their wail of woe freeze you? Does their burst of joy thrill you? Does

the cross of Christ charm you? Then let us arise-let us in earnest begin the work. Let us hang upon God. Let us with the ten thousand ministers and Christians of our land, prove, illustrate and point home the word of God. At the fervor of our prayers, and the earnestness of our persuasions, "let the pillars of heaven tremble, let the mountains of the earth be shaken."

And why should we not thus labor? Toil is nothing in such a cause. Jesus will be honored. Sinners will be saved. Our own souls will be magnified. For they that be wise and turn many to righteousness will shine-will shine, while others are in darkness -will shine in heaven-will shine as the stars. Yea, when the stars have gone out, they shall shine on and on, forever and

ever.

SERMON DCLXXIII.

BY REV. WILLIAM WARREN,

UPTON, MASS.

THE GREAT SIN.

"Thou shalt not commit adultery."-EXODUS XX. 14.

SIN has no excuse. And yet there is no form of iniquity but seeks to hide itself under some flimsy pretext or covering. One sin excuses itself on the ground of original propensity; another of temptation. This sin sets up the plea of law, that, of custom or fashion. Now, vice excuses itself on the ground of interest, honor or example, now of appetite, pleasure or passion. One sin says, "Let me alone, for it is a breach of constitutional right to meddle with me." Another says, "Let me alone, for it is interference with the right to eat, drink and sell whatsoever seemeth good." Another says, "Let me alone, the law of nations or honor licenses me." Still another," Let me alone, for it is a shame to speak of me," and flies behind the vail of false modesty.

But the day is coming, smile or blush as you may, when there will be nothing too indecent or indelicate to be made known. Shall we be awestruck by the cry of indecency, when God commands us to speak; when our very land is death-struck; when our ships pollute the sea and shore; when our great cities are ulcers of crime, and our villages and towns are taking the infection; when the very sanctuary of virtue is invaded and defiled, and our homes and firesides are imperilled? We offer no apology for declaring God's counsel. His word is profitable for correction and reproof. And be it so that a riveted prejudice has generally prevailed against the exposure of this sin of licentiousness, I believe that prejudice has always been greatest where there was most need of such exposure. False modesty is always most clamorous where there is least of the