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,

if it might be, the hem of his garment, and attracting attention by his earnest gaze, and his sincere inquiries. Yet would there not be a shade of sadness in the divine address to him, “Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.”

It becomes then an interesting topic of inquiry, what are the characteristics of one to whom the language of the text applies, and what are the errors and dangers to which he is peculiarly exposed?

I. I propose to describe the individual who is "not far from the kingdom of God."

First, He is distinguished for a moral and amiable life. There are many impenitent men whose characters have been most beautifully cultivated, by the refining influences of social life. To the eye of the world, there is a perfect symmetry in their moral developments. Quick are they in the apprehension of external duty, prompt in its performance. There is a perpetual sunshine about their walk. Under the influences of these moral graces, there is a proximate cultivation which may be tending to holiness. I do not say that of itself it ever will or ever can secure holiness. I do not deny that it often brings with it a self-confidence which is the very opposite of conviction for sin. I only mention it as one among the several influences, with which God may be moving upon the heart of the sinner, and putting him in the position most elevated in itself, and most favorable to conversion. At the same time it must be admitted that there is no unvarying uniformity in the divine operations, and that the spirit often impresses truth upon men of a very different character. We sometimes see the abandoned suddenly and in a moment rescued from the lowest depths of vice. The very flagrancy of the crime, the very awfulness of the blasphemy, the very solitude in which the criminal finds himself an outcast from society may be the means of awakening the horrors of conscience, and sending him a trembling penitent to the cross. The immoral man must not feel obliged to wait until he has corrected his moral

habits and cultivated his tastes before he gives his heart to God, but he should be urged to shake off his vice and his impenitence together, and at once to become a Christian. Yet such a one could not be appropriately described as not far from the kingdom of God." It is the greatest miracle of divine mercy that he is ever saved. The tendencies of his habits are all to put far off the period of his conversion. He is enervating his susceptibilities, and blunting his conscience, and barring up the avenues through which religion might enter his soul. If by divine grace such a brand is plucked from the burning, there is no moral proximity of his previous to his subsequent condition. Only to those can our text apply who are exercising their higher susceptibilities upon what there is of good in the objects of a virtuous life. To the man who is scrupulously living up to the relations of society, who sincerely designs to be a good father, a useful citizen, an honorable and benevolent man; who has a heart as warm and pure and kind as we sometimes see even in the unregenerate; to such a one can be most forcibly presented the importance of fidelity in his relations to God. He whose conscience is sensitive to violations of moral duty, and who makes rectitude and honor the rule of his outward conduct, might be expected to open his heart most readily to the reproofs of the divine law, and most promptly to cease from a career as base as it is sinful. Such a one may be said, so far as moral character is concerned, to be "not far from the kingdom of God."

Secondly, He is a believer in the fundamental doctrines of Christianity.

Morality presents little claim to the character described in our text, if it be joined with unbelief. That is enough to counteract all the good tendencies of amiable and virtuous life. Ordinarily faith and goodness, (I mean what the world calls goodness,) go hand in hand, and this is well for those who would establish the political expediency of correct be