to labour, and they can hardly get them out of their bosoms. Some are effectually kept from shining, or being very useful, in | any public sphere in Church or State, through the weakness of their heads; others, as effectually, by the badness of their hearts. Some are incapable of being taught, by reason of natural dulness; others, only because they are of an unteachable spirit, and full of self-conceit. Some are blind for want of eyes; but it is an old proverb, 'none are more blind than those who won't see.' not the agent. And if, when we would These examples are sufficient to illustrate the distinction we are insisting on, and make it evident that by incapable we often mean something very different from want of natural capacity. We may also perceive, from these instances, that there is a real necessity for using such words as capable, incapable, cannot, in this diversity of signification, in which we see they are used in common speech, as well as in the Scriptures. For whenever any thing, whether in ourselves or without us, is really absolutely inconsistent with our doing a thing, we have no way fully and strongly enough to express that inconsistence, but by saying we are unable, we cannot, it is impossible, or using some word of like import. And now it is certain that want of a heart, or inclination, to do a thing, may be, and is, as inconsistent with our doing it as any thing else could be. Covetousness is as inconsistent with liberality as poverty is, and may as effectually hinder a man from doing deeds of charity. Indolence is as inconsistent with industry as bodily weakness or infirmity. The want of an upright heart and a public spirit is as inconsistent with the character of a good ruler, as the want of wisdom and understanding. And the want of all principles of virtue must be as inconsistent with acting virtuously, as even the want of those intellectual faculties which are neces-hension, that this, also, should be mainsary to moral agency. And so, on the tained and manifested to every man's other hand, as to doing evil things. There conscience. is no possibility of doing them—that is, knowingly, designedly, and as moral agents-without an evil disposition. Our free and moral actions are, and must be, as invariably guided and dictated by our minds, as they are limited and bounded by our natural power. That is, every one must act his own nature and choice; otherwise he does not act himself; he is Because a man must act according to his own heart, or as he pleases; does this destroy his freedom? It is the very thing in which all free agency consists. The pulse can beat; the limbs can move in some bodily disorders, or when one that is stronger than we takes hold of them, whether we will or no. But God does not consider us as accountable for such actions as these. And we should, and that not without reason, think it very hard, should He blame or punish us for them. For an honest and good man's pulse may beat as irregularly as the worst villain's in the world. Or his hands, in a convulsion, may strike those around him, in spite of all he can do to hold them still. Or one may be carried by force along, with a gang | of thieves, and be taken for one of them, though no man hates such company and actions as theirs, more heartily than he does. Such involuntary actions every one sees a man is not, and ought not to be, accountabte for. And the reason is, no bad inclination of ours, or want of a good one, is necessary in order to them. They are so free, as to be independent of us, and out of our power. If all our actions were like these, no ways necessarily connected with our disposition, and choice, and temper of mind, we could not be accountable creatures, or the subjects of moral government. If a good tree could bring forth evil fruit, and a corrupt tree good fruit; if a good man, out of the good treasure of his heart, could bring forth evil things, and an evil man, out of the evil treasure, good things; the tree could never be known by its fruit. It could never be known by a man's actions, what his heart was. So that, if they were dealt with according to their works, the most upright and well-disposed would be as liable to be punished; and the most illnatured and ill-disposed, as likely to be rewarded, as the contrary. Whence all moral government must be at an end. Certainly, if we are justly accountable, rewardable, or punishable, for any actions; if any actions are, or can be, properly our own, it must be such as are dictated by | ourselves, and which cannot take place without our own consent. An inability, therefore, to act otherwise than agreeably to our minds, is only an inability to act otherwise than as free agents. And that necessity which arises from, or rather consists in, the temper and choice of the agent himself, and that which is against his choice and his very nature, are so far from coming to the same thing at last, that they are directly contrary one to the other, as to all the purposes of morality, freedom, accountableness, and desert of praise or blame, reward or punishment. And this is agreeable to the sense of all mankind, in all common cases. A man's Divine Being, as less excellent or glorious, We certainly always make a distinction betwixt want of natural abilities to do good, and the want of a heart; looking upon the one as a good excuse, the other as no excuse at all, but rather as that in which all wickedness radically consists. A natural fool no one blames for acting like a fool; but to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin,' in the sense of all mankind as well as in God's account. 'If there be first a willing mind,' we always suppose it ought to be accepted according to that a man hath, and not according to that he hath not.' But the want of a willing mind, or not having a mind to do well, is universally considered as a crime, and not as an excuse. Nothing is more familiar to us than to distinguish in this manner. Nor can any man of common sense help judging thus. Now, this distinction is as applicable to the case before us, as it is to any other case. Some may be unable to comply with the gospel, through the want of those powers of mind, or those bodily organs, or those means of grace, without which it is impossible to understand the character of Christ, or the way of salvation through Him. In either of which cases, the inability is of the natural kind. Others may have all the outward means and all the natural faculties, which are necessary in order to a right understanding of the gospel; and yet, through the evil temper of their minds, they may be disposed to make light of all its proposals and invitations, and to treat every thing relating to religion and another world, with the utmost neglect and indifference. Or, if their fears of the wrath to come,' are by any means awakened, and they are made with much solicitude to inquire 'what they shall do to be saved;' still they may be utterly disinclined to submit to the righteousness or the grace of God, as revealed in the gospel. They may be still 'such children of the devil, and enemies of all righteousness,' as to be irreconcilably averse to all the right ways of the Lord.' They may have 'such an evil heart of unbelief, to depart from the living God,' as is absolutely inconsistent with consenting to the covenant of grace, or 'believing to the saving of the soul.' Now, when this is the case, the inability the sinner is under is only of a moral nature. -Smalley. THE CABINET. HUMILITY FITS FOR CONVERSE WITH GOD. CHERISH the great grace of humility, and be ever mean in your own eyes. That temper carries in it even a natural disposition to delight in God. How sweet complacency will such a soul take in Him! His light and glory shine with great lustre in the eyes of such a one, while there is not a nearer imagined lustre to vie therewith. Stars are seen at noon, by them that descend low into a deep pit. They will admire God but little, that admire themselves much; and take little pleasure in Him, who are too much pleased with themselves. And how sweet a relish have His love and grace to an humble, lowly soul, that esteems itself less than the least of His mercies! With what ravishing delight will divine mercy be entertained, when it is so unexpectedly vouchsafed; when this DUTY OF THE AFFLICTED. WHEN We are in affliction, owing to the death of some friend whom we loved, or some other misfortune that has happened to us, we ought not to seek for consolation in ourselves, nor in our fellow-creatures, it in God only. And the reason is, that nor in any created thing; we should seek creatures are not the primary cause of those occurrences which we call evils. But that the providence of God being the true and sole cause of them, the arbiter and sovereign, we ought, undoubtedly, to have recourse directly to their source, and ascend even to their origin, to obtain satisfactory alleviation. Let us look at death through Christ, and not without Him. Without Christ, it is horrible, detestable; it is the abhorrence of human nature. In Jesus Christ, it is very different; it is lovely, holy, and the joy of the faithful. All trial is sweet in Jesus Christ, even death. He suffered and died, to sanctify death and suffering; and as God and man, He has been all that is great and noble, and all that is abject, in order to consecrate in Himself all things, except sin, and to be the model of all conditions of life. TO BE DEAD TO THE WORLD. I SEE mortification, and to be crucified to the world, is not so highly accounted of by us as it should be. O how heavenly a thing is it to be dead and deaf to this world's sweet music! I confess it hath pleased his Majesty, to make me laugh at men who are wooing this world for their match: I see men lying about the world, as nobles about a king's court, and I wonder what they are all doing there. As I am at present, I would scorn to court such a weak and petty princess, or buy this world's kindness with a bow of my knee. I searce now either hear or see what it is that this world offereth me. I know it is little it can take from me, and as little it can give me. TRUTH AND PEACE. IN God they are united, and so in every godly soul, in every well-ordered Church or State; they march sweetly together, but first truth, then peace. Truth must have the precedence. If one must be dispensed with, it is peace, not truth. Better truth without public peace, than peace without saving truth. Truth alone can bring us solid peace. That peace is far too dear which costs us the loss of truth. Let them, then, go together in our love, in our life. Truth as the root, peace as the fruittruth as the light, peace as the heat-truth as the foundation, peace as the structure. Those propositions are the truest which tend most to peace, as it was the true mother that pleaded against the dividing of the child. CONTEMPT OF WORLDLY COMFORTS. NEVER turn aside from any command for the cross that is in it, for that is the very thing that makes it a blessing, and the means of spiritual improvement. The Holy Ghost is most, if not only, a Comforter, in the absence or contempt of worldly comforts. It seems better to take the measure of our state from a real change of desires, and continual progress towards perfection, than any sensible communications, joyous feelings, or high raptures. When men are taught to expect these, as the great marks and seals of their adoption, the pride of some will soon help them to a competent share of them; whilst others less bold, and not willing to outrun their own experience, will be thrown into grievous perplexities. BLESSINGS OF BELIEVERS. O, BELIEVERS! God hath frowned upon others, but He hath smiled upon you; He hath passed by the doors of others, and knocked at your doors; He hath made you light, while others were dark; He hath made you live, while others are dead; He hath made you heirs of glory, when others are the children of wrath; He hath made you sons, when others are slaves; He hath made you higher than the angels, when others are no better than devils; this He hath done, and more, for you who are believers. Now, have you not great cause to bless God? Whilst man is blessing God for His mercies, God is blessing man with his mercies. Can you find me out that good that is not given you? God deserves more from every Christian, than he demands from every Christian; where the Sun of mercy shines the hottest, then the fruits of grace should grow fairest. WILFUL SIN. THE Lord is gracious to the weakness of His people. Many involuntary mistakes will not interrupt their communion with Him; He pities their infirmity, and teaches them to do better. But if they dispute His known will, and act against the dictates of conscience, they will suffer for it. Wilful sin sadly perplexes and retards our progress. It raises a dark cloud, and hides the Sun of Righteousness from our view; and till He is pleased freely to shine forth again, we can do nothing; and for this, perhaps, He will make us wait, and cry out often, 'How long, O Lord! how long?' FAITH IN CHRIST. It is impossible, whilst Christ is in the eye of our faith, as proposed in the gospel, but that we shall labour to be like Him, and greatly love Him. Neither is there any way for us to attain likeness to Christ, and to love Him, but by a constant view of Him and His glory by faith, which powerfully and effectually work them in us. of Him is useless, all the view which we All the doctrinal knowledge which we have have of His glory is but fancy, imagination, or superstition, which are not accompanied And that by this transforming power. which is wrought by it, is the increase and vigour of all grace; for therein our conGrowth in formity to Him consists. like to Christ, and nothing else is. grace, holiness, and obedience, is a growing GOD'S FAVOUR. NOTHING but a persuasion of our title to God's favour, and consequently to a happy eternity, can make us desire and seek after it in good earnest, and order all our affairs with a view to it. It is the great design of the Christian religion, and the peculiar tendency of its distinguishing doctrines, to suasion. possess and fill our minds with this per BEAUTY OF CHRIST. PUT the beauty of ten thousand thousand worlds of Paradises like the garden of Eden, in one; put all trees, all flowers, all smells, all colours, all tastes, all joys, all sweetness, all loveliness, in one. O what a fair and excellent thing would that be! And yet it would be less, to that fairest and well-beloved Christ, than one drop of rain, to the whole seas, rivers, lakes and fountains of ten thousand earths. O but Christ is heaven's wonder, and earth's wonder! What wonder that His bride saith, He is altogether lovely! INDWELLING SIN. IT is a terrible mortification to a serious man, to find the evil spirit still in possession, after he had thought it entirely gone. But withal it affords a happy conviction of our impotence, as well as inbred corruption, and will lead in time, with hearty repentance and true faith, to that friendly power, from which cometh our help. WHAT A SINNER LOVES. EVERY sinner loves sin. He places his whole delight in it. The only happiness with which he is acquainted, consists in gratifying either the desires of the flesh, the desires of the eye, or the pride of life. But all these things are contrary to the will of God. He forbids the sinner to pursue them; He forbids him to indulge or gratify his sinful propensities; He commands him to mortify and destroy them, to deny himself, to take up his cross, follow Christ, and live a religious life, in which sinners can find no pleasure. He not only requires all this, but threatens all who do not comply, with everlasting punishment. Whenever, therefore, the sinner thinks of God, he thinks of a Being who crosses all his darling inclinations, thwarts all his schemes of happiness, and treads down self, that idol which he loves to worship, and to which he wishes every thing to give way. The sinner, therefore, cannot but look upon God, when he views him in his true character, as his greatest and most irreconcilable enemy. Agreeably, he is represented by the inspired writers, as saying in his heart, No God; that is, would there were no God, or that I could escape from, or resist His power. But this, reason and revelation assure him, is impossible. They tell him, that he can neither deceive God, nor fly from Him, nor resist Him; that he is completely in His power, and that God will dispose of him just as He pleases. This being the case, it is evident that, whenever he remembers God, he cannot but be troubled. THE GREAT CHANGE. THERE is a kind of almightiness in the will to reject sin, whenever it is pleased to do its office; as it infallibly always would, if it was so free as is commonly imagined. It seems to me that the great change, which the Scripture calls regeneration, or renewed to the image of God, is setting the will at liberty to execute the commands of Him who gave it us, and who does nothing without it. FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY. WHEN we quit our hold of the creature, and of earthly enjoyments, what is there left for us to stay upon? What can make us amends for the want of them? Is there any thing besides that we can feel, relish, and feed upon with delight? Yes: faith, hope, and charity. These are a blessed resource to the soul; and it is the choice and possession of these that constitutes a Christian, and the Christian's happiness. TURNING TO GOD. ABSTAINING from evil is nothing, without an actual turning to God in Christ, and tending to Him with the bent of my will and desire, as the rest, centre, and life of my spirit. This change constitutes the idea of religion, is the great work we have to transact with God, and should be the basis of all our prayers. PREACHING CHRIST. Ir a minister would win souls, he must preach Christ in all the dignity of His character-in all the grandeur of His offices-in all the fulness of His love-in all the riches of His grace-and in all the freeness of His salvation. PRAYER. THE loss of prayer is the greatest of all losses; and yet how many prayers are rendered fruitless, if not turned into sin, through inattention, levity of spirit, unbelief, insensibility of want, or greater desire of something else in the heart. PICKED-UP PEARLS. Do I bring myself to the touchstone of truth, or make myself the touchstone? On! if the world knew, or I myself knew, what God knows of me, how should I then appear? IT is enough for humility to know that we are not humble. I WEAR a mask to myself, and for my life cannot help fancying that I am what I would seem to be, and know I am not. THE more of heaven the Christian gets on earth, he will get the more of its joys when he enters it. THOMAS GRANT, PRINTER, EDINBURGH. |