joy." Yet there is a song more rapturous and elevated, such as breaks from the lips of the new inmate, and is echoed by the sympathetic choir of the saints, until all heaven rings with the gladsome acclamation, "Worthy the Lamb that was slain, for he has redeemed me by his blood." John seems to have had glimpses of this superiority in his apocalyptic vision. He speaks of " a new song that no man could learn but the hundred and forty and four thousand that were redeemed from the earth." He means that although angels are constrained to join in that song, it has a significance which they can never learn. Their well trained voices may harmonize with the music of the saints, but there is a melody of the soul unawakened in them, a chord of the heart untouched. They can never say, This Lamb was slain for us. Accordingly their position is represented as not in such immediate proximity to the throne of Jesus. The nearest to that seat of honor are those who represent the church of the redeemed. They commence the new and exalted strain, "Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred and tongue and people and nation, and hast made us unto our God kings and priests: and we shall reign on the earth." Next after them, the angels who form a circle around, unable to repress their sympathy and admiration, to the number of "ten thousand times ten thousand and thousands of thousands," cry with a loud voice, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and blessing." And finally the whole intelligent universe is introduced as uniting in this glorious tribute, and the chorus that swells all hearts and voices is, "Blessing and honor and glory and power be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb forever and ever."

This subject commends itself, in the first place, to such

as are permitted to indulge these hopes and anticipations. for themselves. “What manner of persons ought they to be." What self-respect, what consciousness of their own dignity, should they wear in all their demeanor. How ought they to look upon their brethren who are heirs with them of the same promises. It is to this use that the apostle chiefly applies the consideration, reproving the dissensions that had arisen among the disciples of Jesus. And it calls this church to a holy union. That brother of yours whom you wound by your opprobrium, is destined to the honors of a judge in the New Jerusalem. That weak and ignorant child of God, whom you pass by as beneath your notice, has a robe reserved for him and a crown more princely than earthly courts can boast. When you meet him at the table of your Redeemer, remember he shall one day be admitted to his council-chamber, and drink with him the new wine in the kingdom of his Father. Angels may yet take up the song after that slighted one, as they have already rejoiced over his repentance. Oh! my brethren, what strange beings we are! Should we go through life with our heads bowed down under sorrow, if we thought of that tearless paradise? Should we become so easy a prey to temptation, and suffer men to speak lightly of our principles and our piety, if we reflected on the purity to which we are destined, and the high rank on which we bring dishonor? Should we commune so seldom and so coldly with our Saviour, if we remembered that he is to be one day the fulness of our joy, and that angels might long for our nearness to him without attaining it? No! my brethren, we should walk erect and joyous, so that men might know us by the dignity of our mien, by the beaming of our eye, by the eloquent expression of our features, all of them showing the world, that we are already subsisting on heavenly food. We should fly from sin as not to be glanced at by the expectants of superangelic purity. We should cling to Jesus as if our nearness to his throne in heaven were to be measured by our

nearness to his cross and his altar on earth. Even here we should catch some strains of that new song of the redeemed, and released from the fear of death, our souls would often pant with restless aspirings for that brighter and better portion with Christ.

Finally, our subject appeals in the language of affectionate invitation to such as have yet no title to this blessed inheritance. My friends, religion often comes to you in a voice of terror, and it is but just that the terrors of the law should be sounded in the ears of the slumbering and the dead. But today, she comes arrayed in her best white robe, and with a voice of mild entreaty. She holds out to you a crown brighter than that of angels. She brings to your ear strains of celestial music. She beckons you to the marriage-supper of the Lamb. Behold! all things are now ready. And Jesus has expended his most costly sacrifice, that he might purchase you a seat at the table of his chosen. Will you, can you, slight the invitation, and turn away from the price of blood, and the songs of heaven, and the voices of the dead, till the door shall be forever shut?

NOTE.

The two preceding discourses were finished Feb. 21, 1840. In a letter of the same date he says, "This week I have been writing a double sermon from 1 Cor. 6: 3, 'Know ye not that we shall judge angels?' The thought of my departed friend, Mr. Brown, was constantly with me. I could not refrain from making direct allusion to him, as the prophetic indications of his death seemed to speak definitely of his reward with the Shepherd." The sermons were preached at South Berwick, May 10, 1840; and afterwards at Danvers, Mass. Under date May 15, 1840, he writes, "Last sabbath, I preached the two sermons I gave you to read, and they seemed to produce very considerable impression; much more than I expected. As I was making a pastoral visit the next day, a lady said to me, were you acquainted with that Mr. Brown of Boston, to whom you alluded in your afternoon discourse?' I need not tell you how the question affected me."

6

SERMON IV.

THE CHARACTER AND CONDITION OF THE SINNER WHO IS NEARLY A CHRISTIAN.

THOU ART NOT FAR FROM THE KINGDOM OF GOD.-Mark 12: 34.

THESE words were addressed to a well educated and interesting young man, in the crowd of cavilers and sceptics, who on a certain occasion had gathered around Jesus. He alone stood forth among the captious and the scoffing, as a sincere inquirer for the truth. Most pleasing must have been the spectacle afforded by that kind and conciliatory dialogue. Most eloquent must have been the approval which kindled in the Saviour's eye, as he saw that "the young man answered discreetly." Beautiful, yet not unmixed with sadness is the brief expression, "Thou art not far from the kingdom of God."

As in many other cases of scriptural narrative, we have here but the fragment of an individual's history. The sacred penman often gives but a rapid sketch, only sufficient to attract our affections, and then draws the veil over the prospect. We just learn to love the man, when we lose his features amid the crowd through which we are rapidly hurried; and we trace in vain his progress and his destination. Yet for that very reason, more deep may be the impression and more varied the instruction from the single and imperfect portraiture.

Imagination may seize upon some trifling incident, and fill up the outline, and yet the conviction will remain that the reality may have been far otherwise. Thus to the rich young man to whom Jesus addressed the reproof, one thing thou lackest," we generally attribute a continued and final impenitence. We are distrustful of the fascination of wealth, and we doubt if a youth would turn from them, for the discipleship of such a master. And yet who knows that the reproof may not have sunk deep into his heart, and there exerted its appropriate influences, until he sacrificed his possessions on the altar of Christ. Very different is the customary apprehension of the incident in our text. We hear no more of the young inquirer, and yet so pleased are we with his spirit, that we picture out for him a happy end. We receive the impression that he who knew so well the significance of the old law, could not have been long in feeling the beauty of the new; that he who was "not far from the kingdom of God," would soon have been a member of that blessed community. And yet, for aught we know, a thousand incidents in the sluggish tendencies of the heart, in the dangers and difficulties. attendant on a profession of Christianity, may have conspired to retard his progress, and death may have overtaken him with his hand on the door of the sanctuary, and yet before he had stepped within its blessed portal.

If Christ should appear in our own day, I think it beyond a question, that such a group might be gathered around him from this congregation. Here perhaps would be the hardened and captious, striving like the Scribes and Pharisees to entangle him in his talk. If they hear not Moses and the apostles, neither would they be persuaded though Christ himself should appear to them. Here too would be the serious, well-disposed, religious sinner, attracted by the beauty of his Saviour's countenance, and admiring the wisdom of his speech. You might see him following about the divine instructor, watching his motions, hanging upon his lips, seeking to touch,