we now rely will be driven to the winds; and when the same heart-searching God, who is now issuing the invitations of mercy, will thunder through the trembling ranks of impenitence the last and irrevocable sentence of an insulted Saviour, "None of those men who were bidden shall taste of my supper."

SERMON XX.

"But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup."

1 Corinthians, xi., 28.

THE celebration of the Lord's Supper, my hearers, is among the most important advantages of our religion. By this, perhaps, more than by any one thing besides, are we made to pause in our worldliness, and to feel as we ought to feel, like sinners on the road to eternity. The reason is, it brings periodically round to us the recollection of our Saviour's atonement for mankind-of his so wonderful love for them as to lead him on to the appalling ceremonies of crucifixion, and finally of his affectionate injunction, "Do this in remembrance of me," bequeathed with his last breath to a sinful and perishing world. Surely, if to these things we have been insensible; if, in the forgetfulness of all his sufferings, we have denied him his dying request, by keeping away from his table, surely our hearts, however hard, must feel, when reminded of our ingratitude, and especially so in the reflection, that we have lived from month to month upon his mercy, that he has spared us a little longer, and a little longer, up to the present hour; and, after all, perhaps, we are at this moment as little prepared to sit down at the sacramental board, as if it were the first and the only instance of our omission. But I will suppose that we have gone to his table. The question comes immediately up, with what feelings have we done so? It may have been from fear, or from fashion, or from policy, or from a thousand other motives, which give not a particle of real religiousness to the transaction. We may have thought to effect a compromise with Jesus Christ, and, while we attend his worship and his sacraments on the Sabbath, we are, perhaps, indulging in the vanities and follies of the world through the week. And who does not know that hundreds of persons are seen at the Supper of the Lord, who carry along with them in life not a single evidence of vital and experimental religion; in fact, whose only preparation for it consists in the mechanical process of resting a few days, from their wonted follies, and reading a few serious books, and saying over a few prayers, in order, as they call it, to be ready for receiving the Communion? In this state of things, when we find, as find we do all around us, so much entire neglect, and so much self-deception, and so much half-way performance, we need not wonder that the apostle should require a man to examine himself, and so to eat of that bread and drink of that cup. Our whole business, therefore, to-day, is self-examination.

When we have answered, at the bar of conscience, what are our views of sin,-what are our feelings towards Jesus Christ, what are the terms we keep with the world, and what are our ideas of Heaven, then may we determine whether or not we are prepared to join the people of God in the expected solemnities of the coming Sabbath.

What then are our views of sin? The Bible affirms, that in a state of nature we have nothing about us but guilt,that not a pulsation of holiness beats through our hearts till they are completely renovated. Now, all this we may admit as a doctrine; but the question is, what do our consciences say to it? Do our feelings, of their own accord, respond Yes, when we are told that the carnal mind is enmity against God? Have we something within us which knows by experience the alarming extent of our depravitywhich is perfectly conscious that all we can do in the work of our salvation, is to cast ourselves on the Divine sovereignty alone, and lift up the single cry for mercy? Thus far, then, every thing is right. But here the inquiry comes in upon us, whether this view of our sinfulness has drawn forth that repentance which the Gospel requires? I do not ask whether it has awakened an occasional sensation of remorse, nor whether it convinces us that we ought to be penitent, nor whether it makes us uneasy about the retributions of another world, but has it produced that godly sorrow which we should feel, just as much and just as spontaneously if sin were never to be punished? Are we mourning every day and every hour, that our attainments in grace are so small, that we accomplish no more victory over ourselves, and that our affections are so languid, and our examples so unworthy in the service of our Master and our God.

Again: What are our feelings towards Jesus Christ? "Him," says the apostle, "God hath set forth as a propitiation, through faith in his blood, for the remission of sins." We see on the threshold, therefore, in what light we must look upon the Saviour. We must have a certain kind of faith in him to begin with, or every thing goes wrong afterwards; not a faith that he lived or that he died-not a faith that his doctrines were true, and his life exemplary, but faith in his blood. And what are we to believe concerning his blood? Why, we are simply to take the whole passage together, and have faith in his blood for the remission of sins, because God hath set him forth as a propitiation. But we are not to stop here. We may believe precisely as we ought, about the object of the death of Christ, and about the way in which men will be saved, and all the time we may have no prospect of being saved ourselves. The reason is, we must love Christ; and when I say love, I mean just what is always meant, when speaking of the common intercourse of men. I mean a firm principle of attachment, which makes us delight to think of him, and to please him, and to be with him, and to do as he wishes to have us do; and this, too, not at any one time, but at all times. I have no reference to the mere emotions of gratitude, nor to any pleasure we may have in the hope that he will be our final Saviour. Such exercises are by no means the evidences of piety. Before we look at all towards them, we must ascertain whether we have confided in Christ, by seeking our pardon and our hopes entirely from him, and by giving up our whole souls to his service, and whether we have any thing of that feeling for him on a large scale, which the warmth of our earthly attachments confers on a small one.

Again: What terms are we keeping with the world? All of us know that the Bible has forbidden us to be conformed to it, or to set our affections upon it; and that man who is not sensible from day to day, of a constant struggle against the temptations around him, falls short of the very first evi. dence of experimental religion. My hearers, there is a sort of visible Christianity which walks along through life upon the boundary line that separates the Church from the world; and to this track it always adheres, because, by stepping a little on one side it enjoys the varieties of life, and by stepping a little on the other side it resumes a standing among the children of God. Of all the forms of self-deception, this is one of the worst-not that I would dictate how far any of us may indulge in what are usually styled ra. tional amusements; nor do I undertake to affirm, that we commit a positive crime by such indulgencies. But this I say, that in the character of a professor of religion, it is a trait which, if I were lying on the death-bed, I should tremble to carry with me to the judgment seat of Christ. No such accommodating Christianity is found in the life of our Saviour, nor of his apostles, nor of his primitive people. They came out from the world, and were separate; and there