critical inquiries are attended with peculiar danger. Whence this great danger is to be apprehended, does not so readily appear. If it arises from the fact, that any inquiry is necessary in arriving at the true meaning of the scriptures, and that we are not, in every instance, to take the first meaning that strikes the mind, without examination of the exact import of words, or comparison of different parts of the same writer, or different writers with each other; then it is a danger which criticism shares in common with every other kind of theological speculation, by whatever name it is called. Why is criticism more dangerous that metaphysics? That some knowledge of the latter science is requisite to a theologian, will not be denied; yet not even critical speculations have been the subject of more clamour as useless and dangerous, than metaphysical. How often has it How often has it been replied to an unanswerable argument, the whole reasoning is made up of scholastic distinctions, and abstruse metaphysical subtilties, which, in its legitimate consequences, leads to scepticism, infidelity, and even atheism. To all such language, the following remarks of President Edwards very aptly apply; and the same remarks are equally applicable to similar language when used against criticism. "If the reasoning be good, it is as frivolous to inquire what science it is properly reduced to, as what language it is delivered in: and for a man to go about to confute the arguments of his opponent, by telling him, his arguments are metaphysical, [or it may be added, critical] would be as weak as to tell him, his arguments could not be substantial, because they were written in French or Latin. The question is not, whether what is said be metaphysics, physics, logic, or mathematics, Latin, French, English, or Mohawk? but whether the reasoning be good, and the arguments truly conclusive ?”*

If we inquire into the matter of fact

Freedom of the will, Pt. 4-Sect. 13.

as to "extravagant opinions" in interpreting the bible, which have been advanced by critics who have been overdone by their favorite science; no doubt, for every such opinion which could be brought on any one passage, at least ten opinions on the same passage equally extravagant, could be instanced,which have originated, not in a superabundance, but in a deficiency of critical knowledge. Perhaps it is the nature of all investigation on subjects of religion, to produce evil as well as good. Imperfect information, overheated zeal, and an undue estimation of one's own course of study, mislead the attention and pervert the judg ment: nor does there appear any other remedy for the evil, in our present state of imperfection, than to revert to implicit faith; a remedy worse than the disease.

It is well known, that at the commencement of the Reformation, the same objections, in substance, which are now made against inquiry into the correctness of the common copies of the original text of the scriptures, were urged against referring to the original at all. It was said, that by such reference, the faith of christians would be shaken, and no one could know what to believe. The account by Father Paul of the discussions in the council of Trent, on decreeing the authenticity of the Latin vulgate, is full of interesting matter. The whole is much too long for insertion-the following paragraph will give some notion of the views entertained by that body, of the dangers to be apprehended from Greek and Hebrew.

"A great majority of the school divines maintained that it was necessary to hold the common version of the scriptures [the Latin vulgate] as divine and authentic, as it has been for ages read in the churches, and used as a manual in places of instruction; that otherwise they should give up the cause to the Lutherans, and pave the way for the admission of innumerable heresies, which would light up a flame through Christendom. That the doctrine of the Roman church, the mother and

mistress of all other churches, was founded, almost entirely, on certain passages of scripture. That if every one had the liberty of inquiring into the correctness of the common version, either by comparing it with other versions, or by a critical examination into the import of the Greek and Hebrew originals; the critics would soon become judges of faith. Next, these philological pedants would be candid ates for ecclesiastical preferments, and would be elevated to bishoprics and decorated with cardinal's hats, to the exclusion of school divines and canonists. Moreover, that the inquisition would be unable to proceed against the Lutherans, unless the members of that tribunal were adepts in Greek and Hebrew; as these heretics would always have a ready defence, alleging that the original was in their favor, and the translation incorrect. That this would be to yield to the whims and presumptuous speculations of every philologist, who, through malice or real ignorance of divinity, should contradict the received doctrines, by critically refining on Greek and Hebrew words. That the translation of the scriptures by Luther had been the fruitful source of many others, all worthy to be consigned to eternal darkness. That Martin himself had so often retouched his own translation, that every new edition contained variations from all preceding, by the hundred. That if this licentiousness were indulged to others, things would soon come to such a pass, that no one could know what to believe. To these reasons, which received the plaudits of the council, others were added &c."* Yet the catholic divines, notwithstanding the decree of the council of Trent, have never been able to advance, in their controversies with the protestants,without constant reference to the original scriptures; nor have they,in their general course of commenting on the bible, paid any more than a cold deference to the vulgate version. The same will be the result of all attempts to decry the use of critic

*Istoria del concilio Tridentino, Lib. II.

2 Cor. vii, 10.-Godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation, not to be repented of.

All men regret, first or last, that they have sinned, but all do not begiveness. There is a sorrow for sin come truly penitent and receive forwhich is unto salvation, and there is a sorrow which is unto death; and not unfrequently those who perish, go through more tribulation to destruction, than those experience whose godly sorrow prepares them for heaven. The difference between godly and worldly sorrow, consists not in the degree, but in the nature

of the sorrow.

The na

The object of this discourse is to evidences of godly sorrow. explain the nature, and illustrate the ture of godly sorrow may be discovered in the following particulars.

1. It is sorrow for sin.

The sicknesses, disappointments, and deaths, which mingle wormwood in our cup, and make us desolate, do not of themselves produce godly sorrow. It is sin which inflicts the wound, creates the anguish of spirit, extorts the tear, and causes the exclamation, O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the

body of this death?

2. It is sorrow of heart for having sinned against God.

the divine excellence, a sense of obliIt presupposes an apprehension of gation violated, of injustice done, of ingratitude exhibited. The consid

eration that God is independent, does not seem to cancel his rights, or absolve his subjects from their allegiance. It is felt that the rights of God are sacred, and the sin of invading them criminal, in the same degree as God is above all in power and glory, and his kingdom surpassing all other interests, in extent, duration and blessedness. Once, he who now weeps would say, 'what have I done so much against God?' No instruction could produce the feeling that there is any great evil in sin; but now the unbroken force of obligation presses upon the heart. The penitent sees that it is an evil thing, and feels it to be a bitter thing, that he has sinned against God, has made insurrection against the laws and peace of his empire, and his language is, 'Father I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.'

3. Godly sorrow arises from love to God.

It is the result of friendship to God, and complacency in his character, laws, and government. "I have abused him whose being is infinite, whose attributes are perfect, whose kingdom is immense and everlasting, and whose laws for its protection and government, are holy, just and good." This sorrow is the effect of divine illumination, which makes the presence and glory of God a reality, and wakes up in the heart a love stronger than death. It is this love which disarms the rebel. While Sinai thundered, he trembled and would have fled. Now he adores and weeps, and will trust in God though He slay him. It was love which produced that flood of tears with which Mary washed her Saviour's feet, and which .made Peter hasten out and weep bit terly, for having denied his master.

It is not the fear of punishment, which constitutes godly sorrow. Ask the awakened sinner, why dost thou weep? and he will reply, I have sinned and my soul is in danger. Ask the real penitent, wherefore dost thou weep, are not thy sins forgiven? and

with quickened emotion he will exclaim, I weep because I have sinned against him whom my soul loveth, and because I still sin against the goodness and tender mercy of my God. 4. Godly sorrow includes aversion of heart to sin itself.

There is between sin and holiness an opposition of nature, which produces a repellency of feeling, when they meet in the same heart. The flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; and these are contrary, the one to the other. This aversion to sin would be felt by holiness, even though God did not require it. Sin in its own nature is evil, and holiness recoils with disgust from its polluting touch.

5. The ingratitude involved in sinning against God, adds poignancy to godly sorrow. The majesty of God fills the penitent with trembling; his benevolence with shame, for having set up a selfish interest in opposition to the glory of his kingdom; and the mercy of God, in providing a Saviour for a world of rebels, produces admiration and abasement. But when all this majesty stoops to deliver his own soul from death, and all this benevolence is concentrated upon his own heart, the penitent feels the burden of his iniquity to be intolerable. Then it is that the rock dissolves, and the tears flow.

Finally, godly sorrow includes a just sense of the debasement and evil brought by sin upon the subject himself.

Though this is not the first nor the greatest item in the account, it is not omitted. How much good have I lost by sinning against God? What a sacrifice have I made of dignity intellectual and moral; from what height of honour to what degradation of shame, have I descended; from what blessedness turned away, to what famine? Fool that I am, to have turned my back upon the sun, to pursue into darkness and sorrow sparks of my own kindling; to have forsaken fountains of living water for broken cisterns; to have abandoned my Father's house

and service to attend upon swine, and to feed on husks.'

Some of the evidences of godly sorrow, will be found in the following particulars.

1. It is occasioned primarily and chiefly by the sins of the heart. Not because sins of action are not perceived and lamented, but because the sins of the heart are the most numerous, and the most grievous. The christian heart is a world of iniquity.Here the fountain of pollution, and if the streams flow out, beyond the boundaries of this dark empire, full well does he know that it is but a small proportion of the entire amount, which ever sees the light of day. It may be received as a maxim, that the man who finds more occasions of sorrow, in his life, than in his heart, has not known his heart, and is not a penitent.

2. Godly sorrow is occasioned, and indicated, by a painful sense of relative deficiency in all good desires and affections.

When the penitent examines his heart with respect to his love to God, he finds it to be so feeble, compared with the love which the excellence of God should inspire, that it seems doubtful, sometimes, whether it has in fact any existence. This love is so inconstant also, compared with the undecaying ardour which is felt to be due, that he trembles lest all which has seemed to be love, should prove like the morning cloud and the early dew.' If gratitude is at times awakened, it is an emotion so short lived, and so disproportioned to the benefits which have been received, that he often finds it difficult to decide whether it be only a modification of selfishness, or the love of Christ, that constrains him.

If any sense of the evil of sin is experienced, or any abasement felt, it seems to be the result of vision so obscure, and of affections so languid, that he finds it hard to determine, whether it is the fear of selfishness, or the sorrow of love, which heaves the sigh.

If, at times, his interest in the Redeemer's cause rises to such decision as throws all rivals far behind, so soon do these same vanquished rivals overtake the loiterer, and wrest from Christ the victories which he had seemed to win, that the sinner is constrained to doubt who, in fact, is Lord over him, Jesus Christ, or this vain world.

Never does his love or his gratitude or sorrow for sin, rise to such strength of action, as that he feels in these respects nothing more to be attained; while his affections often sink so low as to create and justify the doubt, whether he ever loved, or ever 'sorrowed after a godly sort.'

3. Another class of sins of heart, whose painful influence occasions and indicates godly sorrow, is found in the depraved affections of the soul.

The evil affections, though enfeebled, are not extirpated, by the introduction of holiness into the heart. They remain to contend with grace, and gain at times lamentable victories.

Now it is selfishness that blinds the friend of God, and draws him wide from the path of rectitude; and now it is pride which lifts him up to fall into the condemnation of the Devil. The world unable by all its glory to seduce his Captain, spreads its treasures to the eye of his hesitating follower, and gains the wishful look, the rising desire, and at length, the willing captive. Gain supplants godliness; the pleasures of sin, those of religion; and the praise of men falls with more sweetness upon the ear, than the praise of God. Unhappy fugitive from life, return to thy rest. Far hast thou wandered inquiring at the gate of every idol temple, "who will shew me any good?" But thou wilt return, if ev er thy footsteps shall be retraced, with famished soul and bleeding heart, exclaiming,

Wretch that I am, to wander thus,
In quest of false delight;

Let me be fastened to thy cross,
Rather than lose thy sight!

But even where the world cannot

seduce, stupidity lays its paralizing hand upon the heart, diffusing through the members the inaction of death. The tongue is mute, the eyelids are closed, the hand is motionless, and the feet once swift in duty, refuse to move; and lest a resurrection should ensue, sloth comes in, to perpetuate the dominion of spiritual death. To every command and exhortation, the response is made, 'a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep.' Address to him the alarming expostulation what meanest thou, O sleeper! arise and call upon thy God,' and from the couch of indolence, the same voice replies, 'I cannot arise, I cannot.' Sometimes persons in this condition never awake, but consummate in life and in death the evidence that their faith is vain. But if they are united to Christ, because he lives, they shall live also. When, however, the eye opens and life beats again in the heart, will not the voice of weeping and of supplication be heard? It will be heard; when they remember their ways their doings, they will repent in dust and ashes. No excuse will be heard, no palliations be offered. These sins of the heart which have prevailed, will be called, not infirmities, but sins, not faults but crimes, not trivial offences but sins of high aggravation ; and will be felt as such. When led captive by their power he was far from being at ease, the pleasures of sin did not satisfy, the rest of sloth did not refresh, and the excuses for inaction could not give quiet to his conscience. 'A dreadful sound was in his ears,' and all his dreams were ominous and troublesome.

and

4. Godly sorrow is occasioned and indicated by the apparent increase of indwelling sin.

It is a common expectation, that the commencement of holiness will be evinced by a perceptible diminution of moral evil in the heart; and that growth in grace will directly diminish the amount of apprehended evil, and increase the amount of perceived excellence. Whereas, invari

ably, the sinfulness of the heart is perceived more after conversion, than before; and as the illumination of the Spirit increases, and the work of sanctification goes on, discoveries still more and more humbling are made, of the deceitfulness of the heart.

This fact so unlooked for, is the occasion of temporary despondency to the convert, and of bondage through fear of death, all their life time, to persons of a tender spirit, who do not understand the effects of sanctification. But whether the scriptures are consulted, or the experience of the pious, it will be found that this increasing apprehension of the sinfulness of the heart, associated with increasing aver sion to sin and abasement on account of it, is one of the most unequivocal evidences of grace. Elevated joys and great confidence, may end in darkness and unquestioned apostasy; but the evidence of a conscience ha bitually tender, and of a heart humble and contrite in the view of increased discoveries of unworthiness and guilt, constitutes, it is believed, evidence which will not make ashamed.

It corresponds with the purpose of God to humble his people, that he should show them what is in their hearts; as also with his purpose of manifesting in them the riches of his grace, while he receives from them the tribute of everlasting praise. It results also from the nature of holiness, that its increase in the heart should produce those progressive discoveries of deceitfulness and sin, which have been described.

The growth of grace in the heart of the penitent increases his aversion to sin, while it sheds abroad in his soul a growing light, making new discoveries of the depravity of his heart, surpassing in apparent magnitude any offence which grace has removed. While he sees God and the law and his own heart, with increasing clearness of vision, he with growing intensity abhors himself, with deeper contrition lays his mouth in the dust, and with more vehement importunity cries till the very hour of his deliverance,