their sins are urged to believe the Gospel, yet he conceives he is too great a sinner to venture to apply. Though he is instructed in the nature of the covenant of works and that of grace, yet he still cleaves confusedly to the law which can only condemn him. In the mean time, he labours and strives and watches and prays, but with little apparent success. Nay, he appears to himself to become worse. He mistakes the important doctrine of the necessity of evidences of his being in a state of salvation, for the necessity of his attaining certain previous qualifications to entitle him to come to Christan error of great magnitude. Thus he gradually sinks into despondency. Like the stricken deer, he wanders here and there for relief, but in vain, unconscious that he carries about with him the instrument of his malady. His mistake is, that he thinks he must make himself better before he comes to Christ, instead of first approaching him with the humility of a helpless sinner, that he may obtain the pardon of his sins and be sanctified by his Saviour's grace. Instead of this, he hopes to merit pardon and acceptance by his works. Hence he is filled with terror. His attempts fail, his performances are defective, and condemn him. Every discovery of the evil of his own heart and of the purity of God increases his perturbation and apprehension, and adds to his alarm. He comes at

last to a settled dejection of mind, approaching to despair.

But a still more frequent cause of this malady is SOME WILFUL SIN SECRETLY CHERISHED

IN THE HEART OR PRACTISED IN THE LIFE.

Like the accursed thing in the camp of Israel, this must be cast out, before a scriptural peace can be enjoyed. I speak not of sins of ignorance or infirmity, nor of the effects of sudden temptation, nor of the disallowed imperfections which, through the defilement of indwelling sin, cleave to our purest thoughts and most righteous actions: these ought not to occasion religious depression. The humble Christian, daily examining his conscience and confessing and forsaking his sins, is cleansed by the blood of Christ from all unrighteousness. But if some course of habitual sin, whether secret or open, be entered upon, some palpable inconsistency admitted, something which lays waste the conscience or grieves the Holy Spirit, the consequence frequently is, and ought to be, religious depression. It is not necessary in order to this, that a man should be altogether insincere or hypocritical, much less that he should openly renounce the truth of the Gospel. But if an allowed habit of evil has gained upon him, his serenity of mind must and will be proportionably disturbed. In a day of extensive religious profession like the present, such cases are not

uncommon. Christians are betrayed into a conformity to the vanities or pleasures of the

world. They indulge themselves in things which, if not grossly sinful, are yet inexpedient. They maintain no proper self-government over themselves. A haughty temper toward their inferiors, an envious disposition toward their equals, or a spirit of insubordination with regard to those placed in authority over them, steals in a certain measure upon their minds. Covetousness secretly set up as an idol in the heart, to use the expression of the. Prophet, is a sin which eats as doth a canker. Five times only is lucre mentioned in the New Testament, and in each case the epithet filthy is added to it, to note the peculiar danger of this idolatry. Sins of impurity, again, secretly indulged, and perhaps justified by specious sophisms, have been, and are, the ruin of many.

Whatever be the particular transgression, the effect of it is speedily seen in private devotional duties. These are either wholly neglected, or at least become heartless and languish. The circumspection is relaxed, and the simplicity of the soul is corrupted. Domestic cares leading men into unjustifiable methods of adding to their wealth, or the concerns of a trade or profession, conspire to deaden the heart. The Holy Spirit is quenched, and withdraws his influences. The mind, in which reli

gion has been thus sickly, loses its tone and vigour; and when trouble comes on, it sinks into utter despondency. Even an excessive hurry and occupation from engagements in matters connected with religion, may have a similar effect, if they induce remissness in seeking God, and exclude secret and fervent communion with him.

But the malady is not yet at its height. The unhappy Christian, now in a declining course, has, perhaps, many checks of conscience, many warnings and manifestations of divine mercy. Perhaps some event in the course of providence rouses him. Some awakening sermon startles him in his lethargy. Some open disgrace occurring in the church to a fellow Christian not more culpable than himself, infuses terror into his soul. He repents. He seeks to return to God. He seems to walk with the Saviour for a time in deep contrition and watchfulness. After a while, however, his old sins, like a wound imperfectly healed, break open afresh. He relapses into some known iniquity. These declensions and revivings recur again and again, like the periodical intermission and return of a fever. But by each relapse his state of mind becomes worse; till at length, in some season of outward calamity perhaps, his soul is overcome by dejection. He knows too much of true religion to be happy without it; yet acts too

inconsistently to enjoy its pleasures. Conscience and inclination are at variance. He maintains fair appearances before his friends, and is as active perhaps as others in public concerns; but a worm secretly gnaws, as it were, his vitals, and a fixed melancholy pervades his mind.

In addition to these causes of dejection, LONG-CONTINUED AFFLICTION must likewise be mentioned. It is common to talk about afflictions, and it is easy to bear patiently the trials of others. We very readily recommend submission and resignation to a suffering friend. But to fall under the stroke of the Almighty ourselves, makes a different impression on the mind. If, however, the calamity be not overwhelming, or if it continue only for a short time, our faith may sustain it; especially if we apply the instruction of Holy Scripture, and submit with prayer and penitence to the will of God. But if the, trial touch us precisely in our vulnerable part, or if it be continued long, and stroke succeeds stroke; if prayer appears not to be answered; if our case be conceived to be peculiar; if friends do not sympathize with us so tenderly as we expected; if God's mer cies, which we thought were designed to comfort us, seem only granted to be withdrawn, and leave us tenfold more desolate than before; if the blessings of Providence appear to light

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