The Joy of Faith

In the opening of this chapter, we again look at Adam, as he was when he came from the hands of his Creator, and follow a similar train of remark in reference to his felicity, to that which commenced the last, in reference to his holiness. Man was made for happiness, and was perfectly happy at his creation. The garden of Eden without, was but an emblem of the Paradise in his soul. The flowers which exhibited their beauties and emitted their fragrance; the fruits which blushed in ruddy maturity on every tree; the birds which carolled in every bower, and sent forth such music as the ear of untainted purity delighted to listen to; and the glorious sun gilding the whole scene with splendour — were all but the outward and visible signs of the joy, and peace, and loveliness which reigned in the hearts of the tenants of the place. The image of God was impressed upon their souls, and it was accompanied with a peace that passeth understanding and a joy unspeakable and full of glory. Sin entered, and all was changed. The tear of sorrow suffused the eye — the cloud of care gathered on the brow — the pang of anguish rent the heart — the groan of distress was heaved from the labouring breast — and it seemed as if the daylight of joy had faded for ever from our world amidst the gloom of rayless night. But mercy abandoned not our earth. In the first promise made to the guilty pair on the very spot of their transgression, a streak of light appeared on the darkened horizon; under the patriarchal age the day dawned; at the giving of the typical dispensation from Mount Sinai, the morning star appeared amidst the clouds of Sinai; more and more ruddy the sky appeared during the prophetical dispensation; till at last the Sun of Righteousness arose at the advent of the Saviour, with healing in his wings; and brought back again — the peace that passeth understanding and the joy unspeakable. And once more our dark disordered world is the abode of happiness.

The Bible everywhere speaks of the children of God as a joyful people. To be sure it does — how should it be otherwise? The children of God! ‘The very expression implies it. Is it not every way to be expected that the children of God should be happy? If the children of wise, kind, wealthy parents upon earth may be supposed to be joyful, how much more the children of God, whose infinitely glorious attributes stand all engaged to make them blessed?

Hivery thing bears out the assertion that the Word of God declares believers to be joyful. Predictions do it. — “Men shall be blessed in him, yea all nations shall call him blessed.” ‘‘ Great shall be the peace of thy children.” “Thus saith the Lord, behold I will extend peace to her like a river.” Descriptions do it. — *‘ Blessed are the people whom thou choosest.”’ ‘‘ Blessed is the man whose transgressions are forgiven.” ‘‘ Blessed are the people that know the joyful sound.” ‘Behold I create Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her people a joy.” ‘In whom believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory.” vhortations do it. — ‘‘ Be ye glad and rejoice for ever in that which I create.”’ ‘‘ Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, rejoice.” Lxamples do it — ‘‘ Then they that gladly

G 2 received the Word were baptized, and did eat their meat with gladness.” ‘There was great joy in that city.” ‘And he went on his way rejoicing.” ‘‘ He rejoiced, believing in God with all his house.” “Ye received the Word in much affliction, with joy in the Holy Ghost.”

Thus the uniform representation of the Bible is that the Lord’s people are the subjects of joy and peace; and it is equally plain as to the means by which this is produced. This then is the subject of the present chapter — spiritual joy is produced by faith.

Now, our first business must be to describe the nature of spiritual joy. Many mistakes are made upon this subject which it will be necessary to point out.

It is not necessary that there should be highly excited raptures, and lofty ecstasies of soul. ‘These, in some cases, are mere animal excitement, or the workings of imagination. Persons of no religion, or of false religion, have sometimes, in consequence of their physical temperament, been as highly elevated as others have been depressed. There is no question but that, owing to the mysteriously close connection between body and soul, much of what by an infelicitous, yet well-understood phrase, is called ‘sensible comfort,” is owing to physical organization, or external influences working upon it. No doubt there have been, and are, and not unfrequently, instances in which the view of spiritual things is so clear, and the faith so strong, that the soul of the believer is raised to an extraordinary elevation of spiritual delight. Men of sober judgment, such as the pious Halyburton, the great John Howe, and Dr. Payson, have recorded their experience on this subject, and told us that their joy on some occasions rose to ecstasies of delight so intense, that it seemed as if heaven were begun upon earth. Such elevations of holy joy are usually granted to the more eminent of God’s children, and are reserved for them, either at the close of life, or in the times of great trial. These, therefore, are not common occurrences: and no doubt a great deal of what passes under the notion of religious rapture, is mere animal excitement, — the fervours of a glowing imagination kindled up by a live coal from the altar of enthusiasm. None should be discouraged because they are strangers to such a state of mind. The stony ground hearers had joy of this kind, but it soon vanished. The joy of faith is usually of a much more sober character.

So neither is this joy to be confounded with a good flow of natural cheerfulness. Here again there is much in physical organization. Some persons are blessed with such a happy temperament that they are nearly always buoyant and gladsome. ‘This, of course, is sometimes the case with believers as well as others, and their easy, lightsome temper falling in with religion, gives them the appearance and secures for them the character of “happy Christians.” And so indeed they are — but a great part of the joy which they experience is to be set down not to their religion, but to their constitution. Such a constitution is itself a blessing to be thankful for, but it is not piety.

Nor does spiritual joy mean that delight which is experienced under exciting sermons, and the public means of grace, but which is confined almost, if not entirely, to these things. The eloquence of the preacher, the power of music over the feelings, and the exhilarating effect of a large congregation, may produce very lively and pleasant emotions, and many persons think and speak of the high enjoyment they have had in religious exercises. But then all their enjoyment is confined to these engagements. At home, and in the habitual frame of their minds, they know nothing at all of pure spiritual enjoyment; and even that which they experienced in the house of God, or in the religious circle, is not the effect of truth perceived, believed, and felt, but of circumstances. ‘Their attachment is not to the gospel, but to some favourite preacher, or preachers, and their enjoyment is in hearing ¢hem preach, and not in the gospel which is their theme. The joy of faith, though no doubt aided by the means of grace, is not dependent upon them, nor confined to them: and even while they last, it is not the eloquence of the preacher that produces it, but the doctrine which he exhibits. If you see some persons listening to their favourites, or hear them talking about them, you would imagine they were lifted up to heaven upon earth; but if you look at them at other times, you would see them without a gleam of spiritual joy; they are of the earth, earthly.

Spiritual joy is not worldly mirth and merriment carried into a religious profession. By many worldly-minded professors we are told, when reproving them for their sinful conformity to the customs and amusements of the age, “That religious people ought to be cheerful and not gloomy, and that a light and social temper is the best way to win the ungodly to religion.” So indeed they ought to be cheerful, but then it should be in a way compatible with their profession. Nothing spectral, sepulchral, ascetic, morose, should be seen in them. A Christian is a child of light, an heir of glory, a son of God, born from above, and travelling to heaven, and should appear to be sustaining the ills of time by the assured hope of a happy eternity. He should have inscribed upon his countenance as by sunbeams from Paradise, the word “happiness.” But then his joy must be seen to be an emanation from his religion.

This must be the impression which fe should produce on those who see him, “Religion is bliss.” He must draw men to his own crystal stream of happiness, not by partaking of the puddle with which they are endeavouring to satisfy their thirst, but by inviting them to the wells of salvation. Worldly amusements, and the mirth and the merriment they yield, are utterly uncongenial with the joy of faith.

What then is this joy? It is that cessation of painful solicitude, and apprehension of Divine displeasure, which is awakened, by a sense of sin, and which is relieved by believing in our Lord Jesus Christ. Here is its first step — that gladsome state of mind which is the result of really crediting the glad, tidings of pardon and eternal life by the gospel — that calm, peaceful, tranquil state of the conscience, which has been freed from a sense of unpardoned guilt — that inward satisfaction and pleasure which are the result of conscious reconciliation with God. There may be no rapturous delight, but there is a sweet serenity of mind, the very opposite of that perturbed and apprehensive state which is produced by the fear of Divine wrath. The odject of this joy, or that which produces it, is the gospel, or the glad tidings of salvation — hence it is a rational joy, being produced by something joyful in itself: the cause of this joy is our faith, believing this joyful object — hence it is not a groundless feeling: the nature of this joy is a cessation of previous alarm and distress, coupled with a peaceful hope of all the blessings of salvation — hence it is unquestionably a happy state of mind.

But we now go on to consider how faith produces this joy, or how, as the apostle says, we come to have “joy and peace im believing.”

There can be no mystery here. The subject is patent to all persons. In the common affairs of life, he that believeth glad tidings concerning himself, must be made glad by them. If a man is in mortal sickness, and one come into his room with a medicine, and the assurance it will cure him — if he believes the glad tidings, he will be made glad at once. If he be in debt without means of payment, and one come and assure him he will pay all he owes; if he believes these glad tidings, he will be instantly made glad. If he be condemned to die, and one come and tell him he is reprieved, — if he believes these glad tidings, he will instantly be made glad. Now all this jis very plain — glad tidings make glad the heart which really believes them. In all these cases, the joy is not the joy of doing, for these persons are supposed to do nothing, and can do nothing, but it is the joy of faith. The object of their gladness is not something in themselves, but something out of themselves. The cause of this joy is not what they have done, but simply believing what others have done, or will do for them.

Precisely thus is it with respect to faith in Christ; the gospel brings glad tidings of great joy, the sinner believes them, and in believing is, and of necessity must be, made glad. ‘To see this more clearly, let us notice : —

1. What these blessings are which the Christian believes to be contained in the gospel. Are they of such a nature as to be likely to produce delight, and to justify its exercise, so that a wise and prudent man would pause and hesitate whether there is any thing here that deserves his rejoicing. No man ought to expend his joyous emotions over an unworthy object. It is the mark of childhood to be delighted with toys, and of folly to be pleased with trifles. And it is equally the mark of a stoic, a savage, or a brute, not to be made glad by immense and boundless privileges. Take only one passage as containing a summary of Christian blessings, ‘“‘ He of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption.” — 1 Cor. i, 30. Here are blessings, immense, infinite, and eternal: blessings than which, Divine all-sufficiency has nothing greater to bestow, nor man any thing greater to receive: blessings before which all the objects of earth and earthly ambition fade into darkness and dwindle into insignificance: blessings which supply every want, and remove every woe that sin has introduced: blessings which provide wisdom for the ignorant — pardon for the guilty — holiness for the depraved — and a full redemption for the lost. If these are not great, there is nothing great in heaven above, or in earth beneath, and the whole world is a collection of impertinences. He who could really believe such things, and that they really are his, and not be joyful, must be an anomaly and contradiction in the universe. It would be to believe the greatest, the best, and the gladdest tidings that could be announced, and yet to receive all this without a smile.

2. It is not only the greatness, but the certainty of these things which is realised by a true belief. They are not cunningly devised fables — religious speculations — the works of an imagination inspired by enthusiasm — ecclesiastical legends — priestly impositions. No: but divine realities, as true as they are vast. ‘This is the exulting language of the Christian, “It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners.” ‘I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded he is able to keep that which I have committed to him until that day.” He sees all the evidences of the truth of the gospel narrative; ranges over the whole field of proof; weighs each by itself, and feels the cumulative force of the whole. ‘‘ No, no,” he exclaims, ‘Tam not, cannot be, deceived. I have the witness in myself. I not only can adventure my own soul upon this foundation, but I could trust a thousand souls to it if I possessed them. Noah, sitting in his ark, and trusting its preservation and guidance to its Omnipotent Pilot, did not feel more secure amidst the wild uproar of the deluge, - than I do in my ark, which is Christ. I am safe. All the attributes of God are my guarantee.” This certainly is essential to enjoyment; for the greater the blessings, the greater the misery of any doubts about their reality. When the believer is giving himself up to the bliss of his state, possessions, prospects, and hopes, as a Christian; letting go his feelings to an exuberance of delight, while he plunges into the depths, and soars into the altitudes, of his spiritual mercies, what a cold chill would come over him if he suspected that all this might prove the baseless fabric of a vision. What a felicity it is that our greatest blessings are our most certain ones. 3. The believer realises his own personal interest in these blessings. They are not blessings for others only, but for Aim. He appropriates them as he is invited to do, to himself. This is the true nature of faith; and there is no true faith without it, to claim a personal interest in all that God’s love has bestowed — all that Christ died to obtain — all that is promised in the Scriptures — all that heaven contains. Under every promise of spiritual blessings — every invitation to the Saviour — every prospect of eternal glory — he writes, ‘‘ Mine — all mine!” ‘“What would salvation be,” he exclaims, “if it were only a vast domain belonging to others, but not tome; over which T should look, as I do over the noble mansion, park, and gardens of some rich man, but only to congratulate him as the proprietor. The glory is, that Lam myself, through God’s rich grace, lord of all the vast domain. I can point to the cross and say, my Saviour; to the throne of the eternal, and say, my father; to the covenant of grace, and say, my charter; to the church of Christ, and say, my New Jerusalem; to heaven, and say, my home; and to eternal life, and say, my inheritance.” Well might Luther say, ‘I love the Bible for these pronouns, ‘mine,’ and “t¢hine)?:7?

Here, then, is the operation of faith in producing joy: it believes the glad tidings of these blessings, as contained in the gospel of Christ. This is not only the means of joy and peace when first convinced of sin, and led to believe in Christ, but through every future stage of his progress, he still turns by faith to the cross as his only ground of hope. He never outlives his need of, nor his delight in, that stupendous object. It was to establish believers, that the apostle said, “‘ Rejoice in the Lord always: again I say rejoice.” — -Philip. iv, 4. Yes, it he Lord. Jesus is the object of Christians’ joy. Christ, in the glory of his person and of his work. Christ, living on earth — dying on the cross — interceding and reigning in heaven. Christ in his first advent and his second coming. Christ, as our example and atonement. What a boundless, fathomless ocean of joy is Christ. If the material sun be so glorious in the eyes of the natural man, how much more glorious is the Sun of Righteousness to the spiritual man. To this, when the eye of flesh grows dim in death, the eye of faith turns with delight to the last. As much when one of the young men, or the fathers in Christ, as when a babe, he cries, “The cross, the cross, is all my salvation.” Under every new sense of sin, and new discovery of corruption, and new views of God’s justice, he turns believingly to the gospel testimony. Hoary in years, and rich in experience, he still draws all his comfort by faith from the glad tidings of salvation.

But there is also another object of faith which fills him with joy, and that is, the heavenly inheritance. It is in reference to this that the apostle says, ‘“‘Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations: that the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise, and honour, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ: whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory.” — I1 Peter i, 6 — 9. But we reserve the consideration of this for a separate chapter.

But it will be important now to observe that besides this joy of faith there is in the Christian life another kind of joy, and that is the joy of holiness. True it is, that holiness is the product of faith, and thus indirectly the joy of faith and of holiness are one. But what is now meant is that holiness itself is a direct and immediate source of joy. Hence, it is said, “‘ Our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation in the world.” — 2 Cor. i. 12. Holiness is, and must be, happiness. God is the blessed God, because he is the holy God. Angels are happy, because they are holy. Adam was happy at his creation, because he was holy. The spirits of just men made perfect are happy, because they are holy. There cannot be two principles more true, more impressive in themselves, or more important to be held up to public consideration than that sin is misery and that holiness is happiness, which are a proof of a moral government of the universe. Is it not a felt truth in every believer’s experience that joy and sorrow are the two scales in the balance of his soul, which are ever regulated by sin and holiness? How miserable is he when corruption prevails; how often and how agonisingly does he exclaim under these circumstances, ‘‘O wretched man that I.am, who shall deliver me from this body of sin and death?” Sin is itself a part of hell, and hell is but the sink of all sin and wickedness, which will finally draw all sin to itself, as its proper receptacle. And with something of the nature of hell, sin contains something of its misery. While on the other hand, holiness is heaven, partly its nature, and partly its felicity. It is the best thing God has now to bestow upon us either in this world or in that which is to come, for it is his own image and his own bliss. Wherever there is holiness, there is something of God and something of heaven too. Heaven is continually drawing up holiness to itself, and sending down something of itself to those hearts in which holiness is now found. Let the believer, therefore, while as a sinner, he is ever drawing in the joy of faith from the cross, ever as a saint be promoting that holiness which of itself is the meetness and foretaste of heaven. ‘“‘ Nothing without us,” says the learned Cudworth, “can make us as believers either happy or miserable; nothing can either defile us or taint us, but what goeth out from us, what springeth up and bubbleth out of our own hearts. We have dreadful apprehensions of the flames of hell without us: we tremble and are afraid when we hear of fire and brimstone; whilst in the mean time we securely nourish within our hearts a true and living hell. The dark fire of our lusts consumeth our bowels within, and miserably scorcheth our souls, and we are not troubled at it. We do not perceive how hell steals upon us while we live here. And, as for heaven, we only gaze abroad, expecting that it should come in to us from without, but never look for the beginnings of it to arise within, in our own hearts.” Understand then that Christian joy in its most perfect form springs from holiness. It is in this view of it the joy of the Lord; arising from the same causes, terminating in the same objects, and yielding the same results as that which Christ himself, who is God over all, blessed for evermore, possesses without measure. It is our sympathy with God in his infinite blessedness, our fellowship with him in happiness.

Christian joy arises also from a belief of God’s exceeding great and precious promises, in all their applicability to the ever changing condition and circumstances of the believer’s life. In whatever situation of want or woe, care or fear, he may be placed, if he realise only one gracious assurance of the Eternal Word, he rejoices in it as one that has found rich spoil; and feasts as upon dainty food. I have known saints, who, in deepest distress, have found a single text sufficient to fill them with unspeakable peace for days.

Now it is said, beautifully, instructively said, of this state of mind, ‘“‘ THE JOY OF THE LORD IS YOUR STRENGTH. This exactly accords with a law of our mental economy and physical nature: sorrow, especially when it is deep, relaxes our energies, enfeebles our strength, and indisposes for action. The man oppressed with grief les down and weeps, and turns from exertion with loathing and disgust, as a man in a fever does from food. While on the other hand joy incites to motion. When the cripple who was cured by Peter and John regained the use of his limbs, he was thrown into an ecstasy of delight, and went into the temple walking, and leaping, and praising God. It is the sustainer of all our energies, the impulsive principle of all action and achievement in the service of our Lord. It is as oil to the wheels of obedience. If we look into the world around us, we find that joy is the achiever of almost every good or noble thing which is done under the sun. The Spirit of man must work joyously, or it cannot work successfully. Who can do anything that requires labour, perseverance, and self-denial, without a buoyancy of mind? Gloom and sorrow extinguish the fire of a proper ambition, clip the wings of the aspiring soul, load the feet of activity as with thick clay, and paralyze the hands of labour. Hear the husbandman whistling at his plough, or the sower carolling as he goes, or the merry laugh of the congregated haymakers, and mark how even in their humble departments of human activity, joy helps them to bear the heat and burden of the day. So it is in spiritual things. ‘The joy of the Lord is as far above all other kinds of joy, as holiness is better than other kinds of excellence. It not only gives life and spirit to all the mental powers and operations, but it enables the mind to throw its own inward light upon all the objects which it contemplates. The eye of the mind is like that of the body in this respect, that it imparts its own hue to all without. There is all the difference between spiritual objects when viewed in a joyous and a gloomy state of mind, that there is between a beautiful prospect surveyed in a state of visual disease and health. God with all his glorious perfections, Christ in all his offices, and heaven with all its honours and felicities, depend for the pleasure they impart, upon the state of the mind. As the orb of day is not brilliant to the melancholy man, so neither is the Sun of Righteousness to a dark and gloomy Christian.

Dwell upon the influence of joy on the pleasurable and profitable attendance upon the means of grace. How precious is the Bible, and how eagerly read; how delightful prayer, and how readily performed; how agreeable the sermon, and how attentively listened to; how solemn the Lord’s supper, and how willingly observed in this frame of mind. ‘The fire of devotion never languishes while fed by this fuel; nor its spirit ever tires while this is its prompter. But how soon do we grow weary of all in the absence of this. ‘The joy of the Lord lifts up the soul to heaven and keeps it there, communing not only with the: holy angels and the spirits of just men made perfect, but with God the Judge of all, and Jesus the Mediator of the New Covenant. Yea, it is this which helps to sustain all the graces of the soul in lively exercise. Springing in the first instance from faith, it re-acts upon its first principle, and strengthens that. Love exists apart from joy, but rarely flourishes apart from it. It imparts vigour to the pinions of hope, as it soars upward to its heavenly and eternal object. It gives to patience its power of endurance, and to charity its spirit of kindness and its smile of benevolence.

Who needs be informed of the power of this state of mind in the time of sorrow P —

“* It gives to affliction a grace, And reconciles man to his lot.” We know that it is faith and: hope which mainly support the soul in the dark hour of trial, but is it not by joy that faith and hope are made perfect? What said the apostle? ‘Count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations.” And again, “‘ Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations.” What trials can overpower the soul rejoicing in God? Hear its triumphant song. “Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines: the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.” — Habakkuk ii, 17, 18. This sunshine of the soul has not only illumined the chamber of sickness, or lighted up “the dark valley of the shadow of death,” but has thrown its lustre on the walls of the dark, damp dungeon of the prisoner, and has enabled the martyr to pour forth his swan-like melody on the scaffold or at the stake. In our conflict with the world, this, next to faith, and as the result of it, is our mightiest weapon. The soul filled with holy joy, will gain an easy conquest over this enemy. How dim will the lustre of the world seem, when compared with the brightness of those objects which impart a peace that passeth understanding. Rejoicing in the light of God’s countenance, and in the hope of heaven, it will behold no glory in things seen and temporal, by reason of a glory that excelleth. In turning from spiritual to worldly delights, it will seem as if invited to turn from angel’s food to the crumbs of beggars. The Christian knows this by experience, that his victory over the world is regulated by the enjoyment of his religion. A lukewarm love to Christ and delight in him, is sure to be attended with an ardent love to the world. While on the other hand, the bright shining of his spiritual delight puts out the flames of his worldly love and joy.

How mighty is this through all the great enterprises of Christian benevolence. The miser’s heart, like the ices of the pole, never melts, for he is a stranger to spiritual

H joy. The worldling clutches his treasures under the influence of a joyless soul: and even the Christian finds a religion barren of pleasure, to be barren also of beneficence. Were the Church of Christ full of joy, it would also be full of liberality. A soul rejoicing in the full assurance of faith and hope, and replete with the happiness of love, must be replete with the feelings of benevolence. ‘‘ The wisdom that cometh from above is first pure, then peaceable,’ and as a consequence, it is “full of mercy and good fruits.’ This is the great desideratum of the times we live in. Let us have what societies we may, and far more wealth than we possess, there cannot be the character and temper necessary for the world’s conversion, till God shall send abroad the spirit of holy joy into the hearts of his people. What we want is, a more intense devotion, and a more heavenly temper. More joy will make us more self-denying and more self-sacrificing. How would our treasure flow forth, and our prayers with it, if we were but the partakers of that Divine delight which would make the gratification derived from wealth, seem to be as nothing. How much of ministerial labour to rouse the slumbering zeal, and to call forth the reluctant and grudging liberality of Christians, might be spared, if the souls of believers were partakers of this fruit of the Spirit. This would supersede every thing else; and they would be a law to themselves. The world would soon be lifted up into this sunshine of the church, if the church really possessed it.

I cannot refrain from again presenting a long extract from an exquisitely beautiful essay on this subject by an elegant American writer: ‘‘ 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 that 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 would 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 neighbour, 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 wtself, almost without labour. Certain it is, that in that condition of things, labour 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

H 2 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 ean 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 labour, than the labour 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 calm heavenly peace and joy. A few of 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 earthly-minded 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.”

We will now just glance at the more prevailing obstructions which hinder this joy, even in true believers.

A morbid physical tendency to gloom and depression is in some cases, all but an insuperable barrier to this state of mind. A cloud, impervious to the rays even of the Sun of Righteousness, perpetually hangs over, or occasionally comes over, some minds, throwing its dark and chilling shadow on their troubled bosoms. I do not mean a cloud so dense as that which wrapped the sensitive mind of poor Cowper in constant spiritual night — a settled religious melancholy — an almost total eclipse of the spiritual orb. Alas, for this there is no cure; and the hopeless patient can only be soothed with such palliatives as judicious friendship can supply. But the cases to which I now allude amount only to a tendency to nervous depression; which, though unattended by absolute despair, or constant cheerless despondency, leads the subjects of it ever to write bitter things against themselves. What minister has not met with cases of this kind — cases of even eminent Christians, who, amidst holiness, gentleness, and beautiful consistency, often walked in darkness and saw no light? Yes, ye hypochondriacal children of God, we have known you, sympathised with you, and encouraged you; and sometimes to little purpose. Your harp was upon the willows, and we saw you had no power to take it down: a morbid state of sorrow had paralysed your hand, and you could not sweep its strings. Let me remind you of one thing, — religion is not all feeling, but willing; and when the sensibility is weak, the choice may be strong. You cannot, perhaps, rejoice, but you can confide; you cannot sing, but you can submit; you cannot be happy, but you can hope, and sometimes it must be against hope. Yours is a physical, not a moral defect: it is weak nerves, rather than weak faith. You must say, “Well, I feel I cannot expect to go on my way rejoicing, but I will still go on; and though I cannot serve the Lord with gladness, still I will serve him. I can be holy, if I cannot be happy. 1 cannot dissipate the cloud, but I will try to say,

‘I through the cloud believe thy grace,
Secure of thy compassion still.’”’

There have been cases of this kind, in which I have ventured so far as to say, ‘‘ Let others judge of your case for you.”

Imperfect knowledge is another of the causes of a want of spiritual joy. The darkness of sorrow is often caused by the cloud of ignorance. Christians are often but imperfectly brought out of the bondage of the law into the liberty of the gospel. They dwell too near Sinai, and are ever hearing its thunders, scared by its lightnings, and terrified by its earthquake; and are endeavouring to find shelter in their own doings. They are, at any rate, only half-way between Sinai and Calvary — near enough to the former to be alarmed by the terrors of its justice, and not near enough to the latter to live in the light of its mercy. They are looking for that in themselves which is only to be found in Christ. They do not understand that simple injunction, ‘Rejoice IN THE LorD.” They do not clearly see the cross in all its glory and design; that the work of redemption and salvation is not ours, but God’s; that Christ Aas taken away our sins; fas redeemed us with his precious blood; has reconciled us to God. They are trying to do the work, and cannot rejoice that they have done it, instead of rejoicing that it has been done for them. They do not understand, or cannot believe Christ’s dying words, “It 18 finished:” but they want to finish it themselves. Now there can be no strong, steady, shining light of joy — only flashes — till the eye of faith, instead of occasionally glancing at the cross, and beholding it through a mist, rests upon it, as seen in cloudless splendour.

Many good people suffer a sense of remaining corruption to extinguish all comfort. I would not of course take any one off from observing, acknowledging, mourning, and mortifying their corruptions, nor make them reconciled to their imperfections. I would not check their penitence, lift them above their humility, nor stop the work of crucifixion: but to be always mourning over their corruptions, and never rejoicing in the provision made for the pardon and removal of them, is not the way to cure but to perpetuate them. The way to kill some weeds is to let ina full blaze and power of sunshine upon them; and one way of destroying our corruptions is to expose them to the smile of spiritual consolation. Other weeds wither in the shadow of a neighbouring plant. Imitate this process, and raise up your spiritual joy, to cast a chilling shade over your corruptions. Holiness often ewis¢s apart from joy, but it seldom flourishes apart from it.

But there is a still more prevalent cause than any yet mentioned for the deficiency of spiritual joy amongst professing Christians, I mean the low state of personal godliness. It is neither possessed nor desired by the great bulk of professing Christians. Had they no more happiness than what is furnished by their religion, they would be the most miserable of God’s creatures, for this yields

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them none. They may have a certain kind of pleasure in the excitement of public worship, and the religious activity of zeal; but as to the peace of faith, the joy of the Holy Ghost, and real rejoicing in the Lord — the happiness that springs from believing the glorious gospel of the blessed God — the felicity which is connected with true holiness — of this, what do they know, or what do they wish to know? They can do without it. It is in no sense essential to their enjoyment. Sin and joy cannot dwell together in the same bosom. ‘This little hand,” said Whitfield, 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.” To pretend to religious joy while living in sin, is the last stage of soul-delusion, and the last degree of induration of heart. And worldliness is no less destructive of spiritual peace than actual sin. Many an individual whose eye will wander over these pages, will, though he may have lost all the comfort of religion, have enough of its reminiscences left to sigh, and say, ‘Where is the blessedness I knew, When first I saw the Lord;

Where is the soul-refreshing view,
Of Jesus and his Word.

What peaceful hours I once enjoyed,
How sweet their memory still;
But they have left an aching void,
The world can never fill.”

Let such persons determine to remain no longer in this disconsolate state. The way back to their former condition is still open. The sunny regions of heavenly peace are still accessible. The light of God’s countenance may still be enjoyed by them; and Egyptian gloom exchanged for the illumination of Goshen. But their coming back must be in the spirit of the other part of the hymn,

Return, O holy Dove, return,
Sweet messenger of rest!
T hate the sins that made thee mourn,
And drove thee from my breast.

«‘The dearest idol I have known,
Whate’er that idol be,
Help me to tear it from thy throne,
And worship only thee.

“So shall my walk be close with Goda,
Calm and serene my frame,
So purer light shall mark the road,
That leads me to the Lamb.”