ercise of our highest affections on their highest object, and the intercourse of our minds with ancreated and sovereign goodness. It must therefore be the foundation of the highest pleasure. What delight does a virtuous man often feel when he puts himself solemnly into the presence of his Maker, and considers him as one with his soul and as observing every motion within it; when he implores all suitable blessings from him with a lively faith in his readiness to give him more than he can ask or think; when he adores his inconceivable excellencies, and magnifies and blesses that love which gave being to the world; when he commits his whole existence to him with boundless hope, and gives full scope to every pious and grateful affection? What rapture and ravishment attend such exercises, and how high do they lift our souls? Words are indeed wanting here; nor is it possible properly to describe the pleasure there is in all the acts of devotion; in addressing our desires, with a pure heart to our almighty Parent; in praising him for his innumerable benefits; in beseeching him to cause us to grow in every amiable disposition; in interceding with him for those we love; in feeling benevolence, gratitude and hope kindling with in us before his eye; in spreading our wants and perplexities before him, and seeking direction and help from him; in throwing our cares and burdens upon him, and referring ourselves to his disposal, so as not to retain any wish of any thing which he is pleased to forbid or deny. Even the tears of penitential sorrow and contrition, or of sympathy and benevolence, into which a devout person may sometimes be melted, have a sweetness in them not to be expressed, and are more to be desired than the greatest joys of the irreligious.—Am I, reader, now talking to you a language you do not understand? Have you never felt any of the pleasures I am now speaking of? Do you not know what it is to look up to God in private and to pour out your soul before him?— Unhappy then are you, and a stranger yet to what you ought to be best acquainted with. It cannot be doubted but that the pleasures I am now speaking of will constitute a principal part of our happiness in every future period of our existence. We can indeed enjoy them but very imperfeetly here. Many low cares and desires are continually foreing themselves into our minds, and distracting their attention, and rendering it impossible for us to disengage them enough from sensible objects, and to acquaint ourselves with God in the manner we desire. But hereafter we may hope to get nearer access to him, and obtain clearer views of his glory and majesty. All that now retards the flight of our souls to him, and checks their happiness in him will be remov ed. Every cloud that now hides him from our sight will vanish, and we shall be able to feel his. presence with us in a manner we cannot now conceive. How high then will the pleasures of devotion rise? With what ardor and transport shall we be able to worship and to praise him, to cast our souls before him, and to delight ourselves in him?-But let it be remembered, that this is a happiness, which will never be enjoyed by any who forget God now. If we allow ourselves in guilt and irreligion, or culti vate no acquaintance with the Deity in this life, we cannot be fit for seeing him and dwelling with him in another life. A course of present devotion, as it will give us some foretastes of the happiness of heaven, is also necessary to inure us to it and prepare us for it. "I cannot omit observing further, under this head, that devotion is not only, in the immediate exercise of it, thus a source of happiness, but also constitutes a general temper, conducive in the highest degree to happiness. The spirit of prayer is the spirit of hope, humility, gratitude, and resignation; and must therefore, as far as we are possessed of it, be productive of an inward satisfaction and tranquillity which are preferable to all sensible delights. A mind thus turned, has many sources of pleasure peculiar to itself. It is elevated above the tumults of this world, and can preserve self-enjoyment in all circumstances, and take up its rest in God in the midst of outward troubles and calamities. A truly devout temper is in deed the very temper of bliss. It cherishes and strengthens all the tender and agreeable affections, and checks all the turbulent and painful ones. It disposes us to receive pleasure from every object about us, gives new lustre to the face of nature, renders every agreeable scene and occurrence more agreeable, heightens the relish of every common blessing, and improves and refines all our enjoyments. How blest is that man whose desires are continually directed to hea-, ven; who is always exercising gratitude to the Deity and trust in him; whose heart is kept close with him, and whose thoughts are full of him; who tastes his beneficence in whatever gives him pleasure; who terminates all his views in him, and has learnt to carry his attention from every degree of beauty and good, in created beings, to the inexhaustible fountain of all beauty and good? What peace and serenity must fill a mind, assured that its affairs are under the best direction; conscious of its interest in almighty love; and whose regard is habitually fixed on that unsearchable wisdom which conducts all events? "I will add, that devotion greatly improves the pleasure attending all inquiries into nature, and advances in the knowledge of it. The difference between the pleasure, received by a devout and an indevout mind in observing the universe, is like that between the pleasure, received from the same cause by a man and a brute. It is the consideration of the universe as God's work, and the observation of his power, wisdom, and goodness, displayed in it, that clothe it with its chief beauties, and render it in the highest degree a delightful spectacle. There is no greater incentive to devotion than an attentive consideration of the glorious order of nature; nor is there any tendency within us more natural, than that arising from hence to religious adoration. And there is an inexpressible pitifulness in the character of a man who stifles this tendency; who confines his views to second causes, and forgets the first; who sees not the Deity in his works; who devotes his time to philosophical researches, but satisfies himself with mere speculation; who can survey the world, enjoy its pleasures, and reflect on its wonderful structure, without lifting up his heart to the Author of it, without being warmed into praise, or feeling any pious and devout emotions." ON MISTAKES OF THE TERMS OF ACCEPTANCE WITH THE terms of acceptance with God, or the methods by which the divine favor may be obtained, deserve our most serious regard. The design of this communication is to point out some common mistakes on this most interesting subject. 1. In the first place; it is a very prevalent opinion, that a character good upon the whole, when in the opinion of the world there is more virtue than vice, will at last be accepted by God, though the person is conscious of some favorite sin, which he deliberately and habitually practises, or of the prevailing omission of some duty, which he cannot but know the strictness of christian virtue to require. Such a man's ground of security is this; that although he lives from day to day in the violation of some well known obligation, God will take his character on the whole as it affects society, and striking a balance between his virtues and his vices, receive him at last into favor, or at least screen him from punishment. It is impossible for me to express in language sufficiently strong, the danger and madness of such a state of mind. St. James GOD. has said, that whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, is guilty of all. His meaning is sufficiently plain; that the observance of one or more obligations can never be an atonement fer the habitual or deliberate violation of another of equal authority. This would be in fact to annihilate the very nature of religion, of virtue, of obedience; because the deliberate indulgence of any one sin, or the deliberate omission of any one duty, is such a disrespect for the authority, by which our whole duty is enjoined, as cannot consist with any sincere principle of obedience. In this way might the whole decalogue be successively broken, and yet the offender esteem himself secure, because it is impossible to be at the same time guilty of every offence. If you have for a moment believed, that because you happen to be honest, or temperate, or charitable, or devout, you may live in the deliberate violation of any other law, or in the habitual neglect of any practice, which is as clearly a duty, as honesty, temperance, charity, or devotion, abjure, I beseech you, such terrible presumption; for it puts eternal happiness at risk, and as God is true, you cannot in such circumstances be safe. 2. In the second place; ano ther mistake of the terms of acceptance with God is to rely upon faith only for salvation. As this mistake, like many others, is founded on the ground of certain passages of scripture, let us hear what is so often quoted on the subject. "By grace are ye saved through faith;" and "a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law." Does Paul then mean to declare, that a bare belief in Jesus Christ, without repentance and obedience, can secure to any man the gift of eternal salvation? Let his brother James answer, as he has, in terms which nothing can render more explicit. "What does it profit a man, if he say he have faith, and have not works? Can faith save him? No! faith without works is dead, being alone." If however we will attend to the meaning of Paul in these favorite passages, we shall find no necessity of confronting him with the authority of James. "By grace are ye saved through faith." Observe the expression-ye are saved.-Does he mean then that the Ephesians, to whom he was writing, had already entered, or were as safe, as if they had entered, on their everlasting reward? No, surely; for we find from his repeated and earnest exhortations, that they were yet in danger of falling into sin, and of losing all their present hopes, and future prospects. How then were they by grace already saved thro' faith? The proper answer is-the salvation to which their faith had introduced them, and which was the only salvation he intended, was a deliverance from the former ignorance and habits of vice, in which they were sunk, before they were acquainted with christianity. From these they were now saved. By their faith in Christ they had now entered on a new and merciful dispensation; and this salvation was to be ascribed to God's grace, for it was a favor, which they had in no way deserved. Thus were they rescued from a deplorable state, and placed in the way of salvation, in which, if they faithfully continued, and steadily improved, they would lay hold on eternal life. Thus were they "justified by faith, without the deeds of the law;" that is, notwithstanding all which the conceited Jews might tell them about the necessity of circumcision and the law of Moses, they might be assured, that if they were virtuous, and improved their christian advantages, they would enjoy the present and final favor of that God, who is no respecter of persons; without the deeds of that ritual law, to which the Jews wished to reduce them. 3. A third and very similar mistake of the terms of acceptance with God, is found among those who profess to rely on the merits of Christ. It is not uncommon to find men, who have never discovered any sentiments of religion, or given any satisfactory evidence of repentance and reformation, using, when they leave the world, this too familiar language. For does not an apostle assure us, say they, that "now if any man sin, we have an advocate with the father, Jesus Christ the righteous, who is a propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but for the sins of the whole world.' But for what sins, my christian friends? For those which we have not forsaken, or of which we have not repented? For those sins which we every day commit without remorse, without consideration? Suppose the merits of Christ to be infinite and invaluable? Can they supply our deliberate and sinful omissions of duty? Christ has done nothing, which will ultimately benefit the unrepenting man, nothing which will benefit him, whose presumption on a Saviour's merits is thought sufficient to excuse him from aiming at any virtue of his own. The application of Christ's righteousness to ourselves is in truth a phrase altogether unscriptural and absurd. The word of God conveys no such meaning as this phrase bears in the mouth of an irreligious man. It is true indeed, that the worth of our Saviour's character is beyond all estimate; and his obedience to death was, in the sight of God, inexpressibly precious; but never can this worth become ours; except so far as we imitate his excellence; and whatever may be the efficacy of his death, never, never let it be imagined that it is a propitiation for the sins which we still retain, the sins which we will not forsake! Lastly. Are there any of us looking forward to some future day of repentance, as the ground of our security? What do we understand then by repentance? This sentiment is most alarming, because nothing is more true, than that every resolution to repent at a future time, is necessarily, and in the very nature of it, insincere, because it implies a preference of a man's present habits, to a course of obedience. But you have seen examples of effectual repentance on a death bed. Effectual, my friends? God only knows how far the last agonizing exercises of the dying can alter the very grain and texture of the soul, or essentially affect the character. Of all the sorrow in the world, this dying sorrow would seem to be the most worthless. It may be, if God so please, not without its effect; but in the apprehension of man, it appears the least worthy of consideration, for it is the exercise of a feeble mind; it is the offering of an affrighted soul, the anguish of a frame already in dissolution; in short it is the resolution of a spirit, which can never prove its sincerity, the prayer of a man who must receive his answer in another world. But you say, did not the thief on the cross repent just before expiring, and express a faith in Christ, which was accepted.— Repent, my friends? We know nothing of his guilt, or of his character. He was crucified, it is true, as a malefactor; but I know not that he discovers any traces of what is commonly understood by a deathbed repentance. All the dispositions, which he then expressed, are those of a well disposed, patient, meek, and christian sufferer. It is true, that he seems to have then, for the first time, expressed his faith |