head is sick, and the whole heart faint.' There are differences among men, as compared with one another; but there is none that doeth good, no, not one.' TWENTY-FIRST DAY.-EVENING. with respect to the disease of the soul. They are ignorant of its existence; they imagine themselves to be whole; they reject the offer of a physician; they turn away from the doctrine of an efficacious medicine. When it is said, they that be whole need not a physician,' the meaning is not, that there are any whole. The human race are, without exception, deeply, fatally tainted "They that be whole need not a physician, but with disease. Sin has poisoned the very foun they that are sick,' Matt. ix. 12. SIN is often compared in scripture to a disease. Disease disorders the constitution of the body, unfits it for proper action, wastes its strength, causes pain, and turns the very life-blood into pollution. Similar are the effects of sin in the soul. It has disturbed the right exercise and direction of its powers, indisposed it for the pursuit and enjoyment of those things which were originally most agreeable to it, impaired its moral power, embittered its pleasures, and spread its deadly taint over all its thoughts, affections, and desires. Indeed no single disease is a fit type of it; for disease, for the most part, is confined to a part of the body, and it is through its violence in that part that it affects the system; whereas sin taints and wastes the whole moral nature, leaving no part of it exempt from its defiling and desolating influence. The leprosy was its most appropriate type; as it was spread over the whole body, was not only most painful to its victim, but extremely loathsome to all who looked upon him, and was deemed incurable by human skill and care. We may justly describe the effects of sin in our nature in the language of the prophet, when speaking of the spiritual state of the ancient church: From the sole of the foot even unto the head there is no soundness in it; but wounds, and bruises, and putrifying sores.' There is need for a physician then, urgent, immediate need. This moral disease is wasting the soul, and if not checked and removed, will end in eternal death. How much reason we have to be thankful that a physician has been promised, and the means of certain cure revealed! We would suppose that, being diseased, men would immediately apply for the exercise of his skill, and that the most earnest attention would be given to the rules prescribed for the recovery of spiritual health. When disease attacks the body, men lose no time in calling the physician to their aid; and when he waits by the sick-bed, his countenance is narrowly watched, his words are carefully considered, the very tones of his voice are dwelt upon, and his commands are faithfully obeyed. But they act far otherwise, tains of life. But many, nay, all men, naturally imagine themselves to be whole. They entertain most favourable ideas of their character and state. They feel not that the moral constitution is disordered, its powers mis-directed, its privileges lost; and though they are at times conscious of much misery and disquietude, yet they consider this to be accidental, not inevitable,—to spring from transient and physical, not from permanent and moral causes. They see no deformity or defilement in themselves. They resemble men in the delirium of a fever, who, at the very moment the disease is exhausting their strength, and rushing on to a fatal crisis, suppose they are fit for all the ordinary functions and duties of life; while, to an intelligent spectator, they seem most urgently to require the care of a physician, and the prompt use of medicine, to snatch them from the grave. The sick are they who have been awakened to a consciousness of spiritual disease, and to a lively apprehension of its dreadful consequences. By the teaching of the Holy Spirit, the doctrines revealed in scripture regarding the fallen and corrupt state of our nature, have been savingly applied; and as when the Spirit teaches, he also renews, sin, now seen to pollute the soul, is loathed and shrunk from as the prolific source of all evil. Its taint is felt to be death. There is an intense desire for the restoration of spiritual health. In this state of mind, the cry of convietion, which will not be silenced, is uttered,— what must I do to be saved?' As the sick, conscious of pain, and apprehensive of danger, send for the physician, and make known their case to him; so awakened sinners feel how necessary are the care of the spiritual physician, and the application of the only efficacious remedy of their spiritual disease. Sometimes, it is true, there are long passages of troubled experience before the awakened sinner is brought to Christ; and during the continuance of these, he is frequently misled both as to the physician and the remedy. He turns to the world, or he trusts to himself; and he imagines that in the maxims and pleasures of the former, or in his own good deeds, he has found the remedy, which will give him ous, has not tainted themselves. Virtue sheds around them its soft and attractive lustre. Other men may be sinners; but they, at the very worst, are merely frail. There is a fearful self-deception, in the view of their own characters, which multitudes thus Conscience, no doubt, has been sadly health. All this is delusion; and when it is felt to be so, the sinner is shut up to Christ, and applies to him. He is the physician of the soul, and his blood the grand remedy of sin. He came to heal not merely those who were oppressed with bodily disease, but those who were groaning under the power of sin; and not more effec-entertain. tually did he say to the sick, 'Take up thy bed, darkened, and the idea of pure moral excellence and walk,' than he says to the awakened sinner, lost. Still, there is enough of light to show that 'Go in peace, thy sins are forgiven thee.' What sin has degraded and defiled the best of men; and, a wise and condescending physician he is; and how if the whispers of conscience were attended to, infallibly efficacious is the remedy which he applies! very distinct intimations would be heard that No case is so complicated or difficult, as to baffle there was much in thought, word, and deed, which his skill and care. He waits to be called. He must offend the righteous Judge of all. More is always near, and always kind. Divinely especially, this may be said, where the truths of qualified as he is to cure, he yet cures all who scripture are known. But it is part of the corapply to him. If any perish, it is because they ruption which we inherit, that self-love has will not avail themselves of the offer of his skill. has acquired an undue and most dangerous ascen'Ye will not come unto me, that ye might have dency. Its influence is strikingly shown in the life.' flattering estimate which men morally form of their own characters, and in the exaggerated worth which they ascribe to their daily conduct. What is not gross in their lives, is not only good, but surpassingly so; what is good, according to the standard of the world, becomes lustrous; and the character is as a polished surface, where, beyond a few irregularities, or insignificant fissures, there is nothing to mar its splendour, or to impair its entireness. What a virtuous man the sinner often supposes himself to be! He is compassed about with the things that are true, honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report. Instead of being the victim of disease, he is full of health; instead of being weak, he is conscious of strength for duty, and of magnanimity for trial. Self-love has hid all his sins and short-comings; while it has given to whatever is plausible, in his character and life, a surpassing consistency and beauty. TWENTY-SECOND DAY.-MORNING. 'If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us,' 1 John i. 8. THE scriptures very clearly assert the doctrine of the universal depravity of men. The language, indeed, made use of by the inspired writers on this subject, is remarkably strong. We have before proved both Jews and Gentiles that they are all under sin.' 'All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.' 'There is none righteous, no, not one.' The experience of the awakened sinner confirms the truth of this language, strong as it is; for he feels the power of sin to be deeply fixed in his heart, and is conscious that in thought, word, and deed, he comes fearfully This is to believe a lie. Conscience and the short of the requirements of the divine law. word of God are both declared to be false by Men, however, are prone to think most favour- these views, which the sinner entertains of himably of themselves; and, till they are brought self. They are altogether delusive. While the under the convincing work of the Spirit, they delusion continues, the sinner is prevented from are even heard to say, that they have no sin, receiving benefit from the scheme of grace; for They may not affirm, in so many words, that that scheme proceeds on the fact, that all men they are perfect, free from all infirmities and are sinners, and requires a profound conviction of defects; but they regard themselves as generally this fact, in all who would enjoy an interest in pure, fit to bear the scrutiny of the Creator, and it. Sometimes we see the sinner thus blinded warranted to expect his approving sentence. They to his real character, till the season of grace is probably look upon those criminals, who are the gone. His whole life is a dream, of infatuation outcasts of society, as polluted with sin. These, and ignorance. He resembles a very poor and however, are, in their estimation, separated from wretched man, who imagines himself to be rich them by an almost immeasurable distance, and are and happy; and who, when offered a provision for therefore considered as a class with whom they his wants and comfort, turns away from those who have no sympathy; as to their habits, their own make the offer, as enemies, who calumniate his have no resemblance. Sin, as polluting and ruin-worth, and seek to destroy his peace. The gold of Christ has no value to him. The peace of use of this faculty is to supply us with facts, by faith is unnecessary. In such a man, there is no truth. The whole economy of grace is unintelligible to him. He can see no necessity for, and therefore, no wisdom in it. There must be the teaching of the Spirit to impart a just view of his character and state. Till he is made to know what sin really is, to feel its power in his own heart, and to apprehend the danger to which he is consequently exposed, he never can care for the truth of the gospel, or be brought to acknowledge its suitableness to his need. He must see his vileness in the glass of the law; he must be convinced of his absolute poverty in respect of pure enjoyment; and no longer crying out in the vanity of a boastful spirit, I am rich, and increased in goods, and have need of nothing,' he must be made to exclaim, ‘Behold I am vile, what shall I answer thee?' 'Lord, save me, I perish.' Enlightened by the teaching of the Spirit, he sees himself to be one mass of corruption; the gold is become dim; the most fine gold is changed. He wonders that he should have been so blind to his sinfulness and shame. The truth of scripture humbles him in the dust; and he cannot rest, till he finds a resting-place of safety in the knowledge and belief of the finished work of Christ. All this is the effect of divine teaching; nothing but the illumination of the Spirit can break up and for ever scatter the dream of self-deception, and cause the truth of scripture to be felt in all its abasing and alarming power. TWENTY-SECOND DAY.-EVENING. Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts; and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting, Psal. cxxxix. 23, 24. which we may ascertain our moral character and state. Conscience sits in the breast as a judge; each action, with the principle from which it springs, passes in review before it; and according to its decision, the action is approved or condemned, is a source of peace or a subject of regret. In the original state of man, there was perfect harmony among all the powers of his nature. Pure actions flowed from pure princiconscience approved; and peace filled the heart. Then all was clear, bright, happy; there was no conflict to agitate, and no confusion to perplex; the reports of consciousness were simple and direct, and the facts reported were holy and consistent. ples; It is as necessary as ever that man should know himself; for though he is now fallen and corrupt, yet the constitution of his nature is the same as before, and self-knowledge is indispensable that he may understand his moral character and state. The highest exercise of reason is its application to moral truth, and the most interesting moral truth is that which relates to ourselves. If we are ignorant of ourselves, we frustrate the very design of our constitution, and deprive reason of its highest functions. But while the importance of self-knowledge is necessary, it is most difficult to attain it. It is not now as when man had only to look within, and the state of the heart was naked to his view. There was an absolute singleness in the constitution then, which prevented all confusion or mistake. But man is now corrupt; there is a division in the heart; sin reigns, no doubt, naturally, but it is, in some measure, opposed by conscience; and though the opposition be feeble and ineffectual, yet it still leads to confusion, deceit, and conse The heart often loves what conquently error. science condemns; the heart prevails, but conscience offers opposition; and, as opposition occasions uneasiness, it is desirable to overcome or silence THIS prayer implies the importance of self-know-it, and for this purpose false pretexts are resorted ledge, and the difficulty of attaining it. Know to by the sinner. thyself,' is a maxim which was acknowledged to be important, even by the wise among the heathen; and indeed, we cannot reflect upon the constitution of our nature as accountable, without perceiving that this species of knowledge should take precedence of every other; since it is necessary to enable us to understand the motives by which we are influenced, our principles of action, and our relation to the infinite Creator, with whom we have to do. We are endowed with consciousness, which reports to us all the dangers that take place in the world within; and the highest Hence the delusions which prevail in the unrenewed heart. An action is bad; conscience condemns it. The sinner tries to persuade himself that it was inadvertently done, or under the influence of sudden and powerful temptation, or from a good motive, or in circumstances which made it almost unavoidable. Conscience is soothed; its opposition ceases. A duty is neglected, and conscience condemns again. The sinner tries to persuade himself that the neglect was apparent, not wilful; that there was a variety of engagements, leading to confusion, a want of time, or a call to do something else, or simply, a vague resolution to be more careful in the time to come. Conscience is soothed, and silenced again. The heart thus shows itself to be deceitful; and self-knowledge becomes unattainable. In the renewed mind, the conflict is still greater than in the carnal and corrupt. Sin is cast down from its ascendancy, and holy principles reign. But sin still retains considerable power, and hence there is often a keen struggle. As in the heat of strife, we often lose sight of many things, which, in our calmer moments, are perfectly obvious and distinct; so, in the conflicts of spiritual principle with the corrupt inclinations of the heart, our feelings, motives, and desires become confused; and when the believer proceeds to examine himself regarding them, he finds it extremely difficult, and even impossible to arrive at the truth. Conscience, no doubt, in him is more enlightened than in the sinner; but still there is a strong tendency to self-deception, conscience is misled, pronounces wrong decisions, and is found to approve, when it should condemn, as well as to convince, when it should continue to restrain. It is difficult indeed to know the heart; but it is most important; most important for the sinner, as otherwise he will not feel his need of Christ; most important for the believer, as otherwise he may be lulled into false security, betrayed into many sins, and thrown off his guard in the hour of temptation. The prayer of the Psalmist shows his anxiety to know himself, and, at the same time, his conviction, that this knowledge was unattainable, without the help of God. He had made repeated attempts to come at the truth regarding the state of his heart; but they had all been fruitless, and now he implored the aid of him, to whom the heart is as an open book, every line and letter of which he can trace at a glance. The prayer is one which all Christians must often feel to be appropriate. After they have endeavoured to search out the state of their motives and principles, after they have weighed themselves in the balances of the sanctuary, they are still conscious that there is much only imperfectly ascertained, much of which the estimate is incorrect, much that has escaped observation, or merely been suspected to exist. They go to him, who alone can effectually assist them. 'Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts; and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.' TWENTY-THIRD DAY.-MORNING. 'But I see another law in my members warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members,' Rom. vii. 23. THIS is, in some measure, the experience of every Christian. There is a conflict, it is true, even in the breast of the sinner; but it is far more feeble and undecided than that of which the believer is often conscious. Conscience, in the sinner, only opposes sin in its more gross and aggravated forms; and seems to take no cognizance whatever of the principle of sin, enmity against God, and consequently, the entire exclusion of him from the thoughts of the heart. It has been so injured by sin that it is very incorrect and undecided in the judgments which it pronounces; in many instances, not condemning sin at all; even when it does condemn it, doing so feebly; while it may be so weakened and darkened by a long course of sin, as to cease to reprove actions against which it once remonstrated, and to become comparatively torpid and dead. Sinful habits have a searing effect upon it, insomuch that though at one period it occasioned conflicts in the heart by its reproaches and censures, at a subsequent period it became indifferent. Conscience, like the rest of our nature, is in ruins. Enough of it remains to show what it once was, and to form a hinderance to the absolute and undisturbed ascendancy of evil. There is comparatively little conflict in the unrenewed mind, and that little becomes less, as the power of sin increases. The language of the apostle applies, in its full force, to believers only. Conscience in them has been enlightened by divine teaching, so that it is greatly more sensitive and acute than it is naturally; and the principle of obedience has been established in ascendancy in the heart. This ascendancy however, is not complete. Sin is unquestionably dethroned; it is no longer the supreme power. But it possesses considerable influence, watches for opportunities of resistance and strife, and occasionally breaks forth with bold and successful violence against the new kingdom which grace has set up. There are, in short, two rival principles in the heart, the principle of obedience and the principle of rebellion; the former is paramount, but the latter strives against it; and as it is the natural principle of the heart, and reigned, before grace overthrew it, over all its powers and affections, it often causes a severe conflict. It is the law in the members, warring against the law of the mind.' We have said, that sin is at times successful, There is no perfection here. Unruffled and in striving against the new principle of obedience, abiding peace belongs to a higher state, in which which the Spirit has implanted in the heart. there will be no sin. As long as we are on Hence, the believer is occasionally hurried even earth, there will be war; and, only when we into the commission of gross sin, sin thereby reach the heights of glory, will that which ‘is attaining a temporary triumph, and regaining its perfect be come, and that which is in part be lost ascendancy. The conflicts, thus experienced, done away.' In the meantime, we must fight form no inconsiderable part of that discipline, the good fight of faith; we must put, and keep, through which believers are appointed to pass on, the whole armour of God; and trusting in in preparation for eternal life. By means of that grace, which, while it is all-sufficient, is them, divine principles are rooted more firmly in freely promised, we must strive for the masteries, the soul, as trees are fixed more deeply in the rejoicing that all our sufficiency is of God. 'Be not soil by passing storms; and the believer acquires weary in well-doing; for, in due season, you will a facility and vigour in the exercise of faith, and reap, if you faint not. Greater is he who is for the performance of duty, not otherwise to be you, than all they that are against you.' In all, attained. While they continue, they may have we shall at last be 'more than conquerors, through the effect of obscuring the evidence of his being him that loved us. in a state of grace, and thereby may cause much uneasiness and doubt; but, as the Spirit always, sooner or later, makes them end in the establishment of holiness and faith, they ought to be considered as symptoms of spiritual health, and not as signs of decay and death. The believer, shaken and agitated by them for a season, often comes forth out of them, strong and joyful; while the deliverance imparted to him, forms a passage of privilege in his history, on which he looks back with lively gratitude, as a pledge of safety and triumph in the time to come. It is easy to see, that these conflicts are very useful, as reminding the believer, of what he is prone to forget, that his state on earth is one of imperfection and trial. A course of temporal prosperity has too frequently the effect of leading us to suppose ourselves independent of divine providence, and of inflaming our vanity and pride; and so a course of uniform spiritual privilege is apt to lull us into security, to relax our diligence and zeal, and to weaken the feeling of dependence on divine aid. We need trials to keep us humble, to quicken our apprehensions of danger, to stimulate to watchfulness, and to rouse to prayer. They disclose to us the weak points of our character; they remind us of the deceitfulness of sin, and the power and malignity of our enemies; and above all, they strengthen our conviction of the necessity of grace, without which we can do nothing. Grace made us free from the captivity of sin at first. Grace alone can enable us to maintain the freedom which it confers. Grace must contribute to the increase of knowledge, of spirituality, of affection, and of heavenliness of desire, otherwise its own noble work will be frustrated, the hideous dominion of evil restored, and the blessings of redemption prevented for ever. TWENTY-THIRD DAY.-EVENING. O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?' Rom. vii. 24. THIS is a remarkable exclamation to be uttered by a Christian, and that Christian the apostle of the Gentiles. When the angels announced the introduction of the new dispensation in the birth of the Saviour, they are represented as singing this song, as they hovered above the plains of Bethlehem, Glory to God in the highest; peace on earth, good will to men.' In perfect conformity with this description of the effects of the gospel was our Lord's invitation to sinners, ‘Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest;' and his assurance to his disciples before his death, Peace I leave you, my peace give I unto you.' Peace was thus set forth as the peculiar blessing of his religion; as the Psalmist indeed had expressed it under the ancient dispensation, Great peace have they who love thy law; and nothing shall offend them.' It seems at variance with these views of the privileges of Christians to represent them as wretched; not only so, but wretched to such an extent, that they are ready to sink under the burden of their misery. The difference appears still more strange and irreconcilable, when we consider who it was that uttered the exclamation, 'O wretched man that I am.' The writer of these words was not an ordinary Christian, who might be supposed to be limited in his knowledge, obscure in his views of divine truth, greatly deficient in zeal, spirituality, and courage; and who, not having been much or severely tried, held his principles |