: tate he wrote off at once that First Epistle, which goes into the matter fully, with no false delicacycalling wrong, wrong, and laying upon those who permitted it, and honored it, their full share of blame. Scarcely, however, had the Apostle written the Epistle, and irrevocably sent it, than misgivings began to cross his mind, as we see in the eighth verse, where he says, "I did repent." To some persons this would be perplexing. They cannot understand how an inspired Apostle could regret what he had done if it were by Inspiration, what room could there be for misgivings? And if he regretted an act done under God's guidance, just as any common man might regret a foolish act, how could the Apostle be inspired? But this, which might perplex some, exhibits the very beauty and naturalness of the whole narrative. God's inspiration does not take a man and make a passive machine of him, as a musician might use a flute, breathing through it what tones he pleases, while the flute itself is unconscious, unresisting, and un-coöperating. When God inspires, His Spirit mixes with the spirit of man, in the form of thought, not without struggles and misgivings of the human element. Otherwise it would not be human : it would not be inspiration of the man, but simply a Divine echo through the man. Very beautiful is this account of the inspired letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians; so real, so human, so natural! These misgivings lasted a considerable time. In the twelfth verse of the second chapter, we learn that at Troas they had not subsided. He went there on his way to Macedonia, in order the soonor to meet Titus, with the reply from the Corinthians; and in this chapter we learn that these doubts had even gathered strength: "For, when we were come into Macedonia, our flesh had no rest, but we were troubled on every side; without were fightings, within were fears." Here I make a remark by the way: It is by passages such as these alone, that we can appreciate and understand the real trials of apostles and missionaries. Here was a journey from Asia to Corinth, through various places. : Now the obvious trials of such a course all could comprehend. Perils by sea; perils from the Jews; perils from governors; perils of travel; hardships and privations these were the trifles which tried a spirit like St. Paul's. For it is not hardships that are the wearing work of life. It is anxiety of heart and mind; it is the fretting, carking cares of deep solicitude: one sorrow, one deep, corroding anxiety, will wear deeper furrows in a cheek and brow, than ten campaigns can do. One day's suspense will exhaust more, and leave the cheek paler, than a week's fasting. Thus it is a low estimate of the depth of apostolic trial to say, that physical suffering was its chief element. And if this be true, how much more degrading is it so to treat of the Sufferings of Christ, of whom the Prophet said: "He shall see of the travail of His soul, and be satisfied." We degrade His Life and Death by pictures of His physical suffering and His bodily agony on the Cross. For it was not the nails that pierced His hands which wrung from Him the exceeding bitter cry, the iron that had entered into His soul. but To return from this digression. In Macedonia St. Paul met Titus, bearing a letter from the Corinthians, by which it appeared that his rebuke had done its work. Instead of alienating, it had roused them to earnestness: they had purged themselves of complicity in the guilt, by the punishment and excommunication of the offender. This was the Apostle's comfort; and on this ground he built his sanguine hope that the Corinthians would receive him, and that there would be no more misunderstanding-v. 7. Now let us see the personal application -the principles derivable from these facts. First, I infer the value of explanations. Had St. Paul left the matter unsettled, or only half settled, there never could have been a hearty understanding between him and Corinth. There would have been for ever a sense of a something reserved; there would have been a wound, which never had been probed. Whenever, then, there is a misunderstanding between man and man, or harsh words reported to one as said by the other, the true remedy is a direct and open request for explanation. In the world's idea, this means satisfaction in the sense of revenge; in the Christian sense it means examination in order to do mutual justice. The rule for this is laid down by Christ: "Moreover, if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother." It is the neglect of this rule of frankness that pepetuates misunderstandings. Suspicions lie hid, and burn, and wrankle; and sentences, and half sentences, are reported by persons who do not mean to make mischief, but who effectually do so. Words are distorted and misconstrued, and two upright men, between whom one frank, open conversation would set all right, are separated for ever. Secondly, I infer the blessing, not merely the duty, of entire truthfulness. The affectionate relations between St. Paul and the Corinthians, though interrupted, were restored again, because he had been true. Candor and straightforwardness were the bond of attachment. Henceforward, however their friendship might be tried, however his love might be maligned, they would feel sure of him, and he would never fear an explanation. A firm foundation had been laid for an abiding relation between the Apostle and his Church. Learn, then, never to smooth away, through fear of results, the difficulties of love or friendship by concealment, or a subtle suppression of facts or feelings. Reprove, explain, submit with all gentleness, and yet with all truth and openness. The deadliest poison you can instil into the wine of life is a fearful reserve, which creates suspicion, or a lie, which will canker and kill your own love, and through that your friend's. The great blessings of this life are Friendship and Affection. Be sure that the only irreparable blight of both is false ness. LECTURE L. JUNE 30, 1850. 2 CORINTHIANS, vii. 9, 10. "Now I rejoice, not that ye were made sorry, but that ye sorrowed to repentance: for ye were made sorry after a godly manner, that ye might receive damage by us in nothing. For godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation not to be repented of: but the sorrow of the world worketh death." THAT which is chiefly insisted on in these verses, is the distinction between sorrow and repentance. Το grieve over sin is one thing, to repent of it is another. The Apostle rejoiced, not that the Corinthians sorrowed, but that they sorrowed unto repentance. Sorrow has two results; it may end in spiritual life, or in spiritual death; and, in themselves, one of these is as natural as the other. Sorrow may produce two kinds of reformation -a transient, or a permanent one -an alteration in habits, which, originating in emotion, will last so long as that emotion continues, and then, after a few fruitless efforts, be given up, a repentance which will be repented of; or, again, a permanent change, which will be reversed by no after thought a repentance not to be repented of. Sorrow is, in itself, therefore, a thing neither good nor bad: its value depends on the spirit of the person on whom it falls. Fire will inflame straw, soften iron, or harden clay: its effects are determined by the object with which it comes in contact. Warmth develops the energies of life, or helps the progress of decay. It is a great power in the hot-house, a great power also in the coffin; it expands the leaf, matures the fruit, adds precocious vigor to vegetable life and warmth, too, develops, with tenfold rapidity, the weltering process of dissolution. So, too, with sorrow. There are spirits in which it develops the seminal principle of life; there are others, in which it prematurely hastens the consummation of irreparable decay. Our subject, therefore, is the twofold power of sorrow: I. The fatal power of the sorrow of the world. II. The life-giving power of the sorrow that is after God. I. The simplest way in which the sorrow of the world works death, is seen in the effect of mere regret for worldly loss. There are certain advantages with which we come into the world. Youth, health, friends, and sometimes property. So long as these are continued, we are happy; and because happy, fancy ourselves very grateful to God. We bask in the sunshine of His gifts, and this pleasant sensation of sunning ourselves in life, we call religion; that state in which we all are before sorrow comes, to test the temper of the metal of which our souls are made, when the spirits are unbroken and the heart buoyant, when a fresh morning is to a young heart what it is to the skylark. The exuberant burst of joy seems a spontaneous hymn to the Father of all blessing, like the matin carol of the bird; but this is not religion it is the instinctive utterance of happy feeling, having as little of moral character in it, in the happy human being, as in the happy bird. Nay more -the religion, which is only sunned into being by happiness, is a suspicious thing: having been warmed by joy, it will become cold when joy is over; and then, when these blessings are removed, we count ourselves hardly treated, as if we had been defrauded of a right; rebellious, hard feelings come; then it is you see people become bitter, spiteful, discontented. At every step in the solemn path of life, something must be mourned which will come back no more; the temper that was so smooth becomes rugged and uneven; the benevolence that expanded upon all, narrows into an ever dwindling selfishness we are alone; and then that death-like loneliness deepens as life goes on. The |