RICHES of J. C. PHILPOT

The incredible greatness of His power "I pray that you will begin to understand the incredible greatness of His power to us who believe Him." Ephesians 1:19 The work of God on the soul, is a work of sovereign and omnipotent power! See what a mighty power was put forth in turning us from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God; and how it was the outstretched arm of Omnipotence alone, which could deliver us from the power of darkness and bring us into the eternal heavenly kingdom! Consider the difficulties which grace has to overcome, in the "quickening" of a dead soul into spiritual life. View the depths of the fall. Contemplate—the death of the soul in trespasses and sins—the thorough alienation from the life of God—the darkness, blindness, and ignorance of the understanding—the perverseness of the will—the hardness of the conscience—and the depravity of the affections! View the soul's obduracy, stubbornness and obstinacy—its pride, unbelief, infidelity and self-righteousness; its passionate love to, habitual practice of, and long imprisonment to sin. Consider its strong prejudices against everything godly and holy! Contemplate the desperate, implacable enmity of the carnal mind against God Himself—its firm and deep rooted love to the world, in all its varied shapes and forms—and remember also how all its hopes, happiness, and prospects are bound up in the things of time and sense! O what a complicated mass of difficulties, do all these foes form in their firm combination, like a compact, well armed, thoroughly trained army—against any power which would seek to dislodge them from their position! Add to this—all the power, malice, and deceitful arts of Satan, as the strong armed man—keeping the palace night and day, and yielding to none but the stronger than he! Consider, too, the sacrifices which must often be made by one who is to live godly in Christ Jesus—the tenderest ties, perhaps, to be broken—the lucrative prospects which have to be abandoned—old friends to be renounced—family connections to be given up—position in life to be lost—shame and contempt to be entailed on oneself! Viewing, then, a soul dead in sin, with all these difficulties and obstacles in their complicated array, must we not pronounce that to be a mighty act of power which, in spite of all these apparently invincible hindrances, lifts it up and out of them all, into a new and spiritual life? So fully and thoroughly is this fruit and effect of omnipotent power, and of omnipotent power alone, that it is spoken of in the word as—a new and heavenly birth—a new creation—a resurrection—all which terms imply a putting forth of a divine power, as distinct from and independent of any creature effort. Contemplate also, the mighty power of God in "maintaining" divine life in our soul. We have to see and feel—what mountains of difficulty—what seas of temptation—what winds and storms of error—what assaults and snares of Satan—what floods of vileness and ungodliness within and without—strong lusts and passions—what secret slips and falls—what backslidings and departures from the living God—what long seasons of darkness, barrenness, and death—what opposition of the flesh to the strait and narrow way—what crafty hypocrites, pretended friends, false professors—all striving to throw down or entangle our steps! Consider also, what helplessness, inability, and miserable impotency in ourselves to all that is good—and what headlong proneness to all that is evil. We have also to ponder over what we have been and what we still are, since we professed to fear God—and how, when left to ourselves, we have done nothing but sin against and provoke God to His face! And thus as read over article by article, this long dark catalogue, still to have a sweet persuasion that the life of God is in our soul—we realize, believe, and feel, and bless God for His surpassing, superabounding grace, in maintaining this divine life in our soul. "Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound!" His secret power & influence "No man can come to Me, unless the Father who sent Me draws him." John 6:44 "I have loved you with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn you." Jeremiah 31:3 None can really come to Jesus by faith, unless this drawing power is put forth. The Holy Spirit—that gracious and blessed Teacher, acts upon the soul by His secret power and influence, puts 'cords of love' and 'bands of mercy' around the heart, and by the attractive influence that He puts forth, draws the soul to Jesus' feet—and in due time reveals Him as the chief among ten thousand—and the altogether lovely one. As the Spirit reveals and manifests these precious things of Christ to the soul, He raises up a living faith whereby Jesus is sought unto, looked unto, laid hold of, and is brought into the heart with a divine power, there to be enshrined in its warmest and tenderest affections. All through its Christian pilgrimage, this blessed Spirit goes on to deepen His work in the soul, and to discover more and more of the suitability, beauty, and blessedness of the Lord Jesus, as He draws the soul more and more unto Him. There is no maintaining of the light, life, and power of God in our souls, except as we are daily coming unto Jesus as the living stone, and continually living upon Him as the bread of life. All iniquity "Who gave Himself for us, that He might redeem us from all iniquity." Titus 2:14 Sins of heart. Sins of lip. Sins of life. There are five things as regards sin, from which our blessed Lord came to redeem us—its guilt, its filth, its power, its love, its practice. By His death, He redeemed us from sin's guilt. By the washing of regeneration, He delivers us from sin's filth. By the power of His resurrection, He liberates us from sin's dominion. By revealing His beauty, He frees us from sin's love. By making the conscience tender in His fear, He preserves us from sin's practice. The blood of Jesus purifies us from all sin. If your flesh had its full swing "For the flesh lusts against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the other: so that you may not do the things that you desire." Galatians 5:17 At times, we can hardly tell how we are kept from evil. There is in those who fear God, a spiritual principle which holds them up, and keeps them back from the ways of sin and death in which the flesh would walk. This inner principle of grace and godly fear has, in thousands of instances, preserved the feet of the saints, and kept them from doing things that would have ruined their reputation, blighted their character, brought reproach upon the cause of God, and the greatest grief and distress into their own conscience! They cannot do the EVIL things that they would do. The flesh is always lusting towards evil, but grace is a counteracting principle to repress and subdue it. Grace does not wholly overcome the evil lustings of the flesh, but it can prevent those lustings from being carried out into open action. For the Spirit fights against the flesh, and will not let it altogether reign and rule, nor have its own will and way unchecked. What a mercy lies couched here! For what would you be, if your flesh had its full swing? What evil is there which you would not do? What crime which you would not commit? What slip which you would not make? What open and horrid fall which you would not be guilty of—unless you were upheld by Almighty power—and the flesh curbed and checked from running its destructive course? We can never praise God sufficiently for His restraining grace—for what would we be without it? "Hold me up, and I shall be safe!" Psalm 119:117 A coward's castle A pastor has no right to turn the pulpit into a coward's castle, and from there attack those in the congregation, whom he is afraid to meet face to face privately. It is cruelly unfair to attack an individual who cannot defend himself—to hold him up, as if on the horns of the pulpit, before the congregation, (who generally know pretty well who is meant), and to condemn him without hearing his side, with the pastor being the only judge and jury. Some beloved idol? "It is a land of engraved images, and they are mad over idols." Jeremiah 50:38 Have we not all in our various ways, set up some beloved idol—something which engaged our affections, something which occupied our thoughts, something to which we devoted all the energies of our minds, something for which we were willing to labor night and day? Be it money, be it power, be it esteem of men, be it respectability, be it worldly comfort, be it literary knowledge, there was a secret setting up of SELF in one or more of its various forms, and a bowing down to it as an idol. The man of business makes money his god. The man of pleasure makes the lust of the flesh his god. The proud man makes his adored SELF his god. The Pharisee makes self-righteousness his god. The Arminian makes free-will his god. The Calvinist makes dry doctrine his god. All in one way or other, however they may differ in the object of their idolatrous worship, agree in this—that they give a preference in their esteem and affection to their peculiar idol, above the one true God. "And the idols He shall utterly abolish." Isaiah 2:18 There is, then, a time to break down these idols which our fallen nature has set up. And have not we experienced some measure of this breaking down, both externally and internally? Have not our idols been in a measure smashed before our eyes, our prospects in life cut up and destroyed, our airy visions of earthly happiness and our romantic paradises dissolved into thin air, our creature-hopes dashed, our youthful affections blighted, and the objects from which we had fondly hoped to reap an enduring harvest of delight removed from our eyes? And likewise, as to our religion—our good opinion of ourselves, our piety and holiness, our wisdom and our knowledge, our understanding and our abilities, our consistency and uprightness—have they not all been broken down, and made a heap of ruins before our eyes? That monstrous creature within us! "I abhor the pride of Jacob." Amos 6:8 O cursed pride, that is ever lifting up its head in our hearts! Pride would even pull down God that it might sit upon His throne. Pride would trample under foot the holiest things to exalt itself! Pride is that monstrous creature within us, of such ravenous and indiscriminate gluttony, that the more it devours, the more it craves! Pride is that chameleon which assumes every color—that actor which can play every part—and yet which is faithful to no one object or purpose—but to exalt and glorify self! "I will make the pride of the strong to cease." "He shall bring down their pride." (Ezekiel 7:24, Isaiah 25:11) God means to kill man's pride! And oh, what cutting weapons the Lord will sometimes make use of to kill a man's pride! How He will bring him sometimes into the depths of temporal poverty, that He may make a stab at his worldly pride! How He will bring to light the iniquities of his youth, that He may mortify his self-righteous pride! How He will allow sin to break forth, if not openly, yet so powerfully within, that piercing convictions shall kill his spiritual pride! And what deep discoveries of internal corruption will the Lord sometimes employ, to dig down to the root, and cut off the core of that poisonous tree, pride! The Searcher of hearts dissects and anatomizes this inbred evil, cuts down to it through the quivering and bleeding flesh, and pursues with His keen knife its multiplied windings and ramifications. "The lofty looks of man will be brought low, the haughtiness of men will be bowed down, and the Lord alone will be exalted in that day." Isaiah 2:11 "And the loftiness of man shall be bowed down, and the haughtiness of men shall be made low: and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day." Isaiah 2:17 "The Lord of hosts has purposed it, to stain the pride of all glory, and to bring into contempt all the honorable of the earth." Isaiah 23:9 The soul's natural element Before the soul can know anything about salvation, it must learn deeply and experimentally the nature of sin, and of itself, as stained and polluted by sin. It is proud—and needs to be humbled. It is careless—and needs to be awakened. It is alive—and needs to be killed. It is full—and requires to be emptied. It is whole—and needs to be wounded. It is clothed—and requires to be stripped. The soul is, by nature, self-righteous, self-seeking, buried deep in worldliness and carnality, utterly blind and ignorant, filled with presumption, arrogance, conceit and enmity—hateful to all that is heavenly and spiritual. Sin, in all its various forms, is the soul's natural element. Some of the features of the unregenerate nature of man are—covetousness, lust, worldly pleasure, desire of the praise of men, an insatiable thirst after self-advancement, a complete abandonment to all that can please and gratify every new desire of the heart, an utter contempt and abhorrence of everything that restrains or defeats its mad pursuit of what it loves. Education, moral restraints, or the force of habit, may restrain the outbreaking of inward corruption, and dam back the mighty stream of indwelling sin, so that it shall not burst all its bounds, and desolate the land. But no moral check can alter human nature. A chained tiger is a tiger still. "The Ethiopian cannot change his skin, nor the leopard his spots." To make man the direct contrary of what he originally is—to make him love God instead of hating Him—fear God, instead of mocking Him—obey God, instead of rebelling against Him—to do this mighty work, and to effect this wonderful change—requires the implantation of a new nature by the immediate hand of God Himself. Natural light, natural love, natural faith, natural obedience—in a word, all natural religion—is here useless and ineffectual. Godly sorrow "Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death." 2 Corinthians 7:10 Godly sorrow springs from a view of a suffering Savior, and manifests itself by hatred of self—abhorrence of sin—groaning over our backslidings—grief of soul for being so often entangled by our lusts and passions—and is accompanied by softness—meltings of heart—flowings of love to the Redeemer—indignation against ourselves—and earnest desires never to sin more. But our coward flesh shrinks from them! "Behold, I have refined you, but not with silver; I have chosen you in the furnace of affliction." Isaiah 48:10 What benefit is there in afflictions? Does God send them without an object in view? Do they come merely, as the men of the world think, by chance? No! There is benefit intended by them. The branch cannot bear fruit unless it be pruned. The love of sin cannot be cast out—the soul cannot be meekened, humbled, softened, and made contrite—the world cannot be embittered—the things of time and sense cannot be stripped of their false hue and their magic appearance—except through affliction. Our greatest blessings usually spring from our greatest afflictions—they prepare the heart to receive them—they empty the vessel of the poisonous ingredients which have filled it, and fit it to receive gospel wine and milk. To be without these afflictions—these griefs—these trials—these temptations—is to write ourselves destitute of grace. But our coward flesh shrinks from them! We are willing to walk to heaven—but not to walk there in God's way. Though we see in the Scripture that the path to glory is a rough and rugged way—yet when our feet are planted in that painful and trying path, we shrink back—our coward flesh refuses to walk in that road. God therefore, as a sovereign, brings those afflictions upon us which He sees most fit for our profit and His glory, without ever consulting us, without ever allowing us a choice in the matter. And He will generally cause our afflictions to come from the most unexpected source, and in a way most cutting to our feelings—in the way that of all others we would least have chosen—and yet in a way which of all others, is most for our profit. God deals with us like a surgeon dealing with a diseased organ. How painful the operation! How deep the knife cuts! How long it may be before the wound is healed! Yet every stroke of the knife is indispensable! A skillful and faithful surgeon would not do his duty if he did not dissect it to the very bottom. As pain before healing is necessary, and must be produced by the knife—so spiritually, we must be wounded and cut in our souls, as long, and as deeply as God sees needful, that in His own time we may receive the consolation. Do the afflictions we pass through humble us? Do they deaden the love of the world in our hearts? Do they purge out hypocrisy? Do they bring us more earnestly to the throne of grace? Do they discover to us sins that we have not before seen? Do they penetrate into our very hearts? Do they lay bare the corrupt fountain that we carry within us? Do they search and test us before a heart-searching God? Do they meeken and soften our spirit? The filthy holes & puddles in which it grovels "The human heart is most deceitful and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is?" Jeremiah 17:9 The sin of our fallen nature is a very mysterious thing. We read of "the mystery of iniquity." Sin has depths which no human plumb line ever fathomed, and lengths which no mortal measuring line ever yet measured out. Thus the way in which sin sometimes seems to sleep—and at other times to awake with renewed strength, its active, irritable, impatient, restless nature—the many shapes and colors it wears—the filthy holes and puddles in which it grovels—the corners into which it creeps—its deceitfulness—its hypocrisy—its craftiness—its persuasiveness—its intense selfishness—its utter recklessness—its desperate madness—its insatiable greediness—are secrets, painful secrets, only learned by bitter experience. "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?" The Lord's secret power in our souls "He gives power to the faint; and to those who have no might He increases strength." Isaiah 40:29 The Lord's people are often in the state that they have no might. All their power seems exhausted, and their strength completely drained away—sin appears to have gotten the mastery over them—and they feel as if they had neither will nor ability to run the race set before them, or persevere in the way of the Lord. Now what has kept us to this day? Some of you have made a profession ten, twenty, thirty, or forty years. What has kept us? When powerful temptations were spread for our feet, what preserved us from falling headlong into them? When we felt the workings of strong lusts, what kept us from being altogether carried captive by them? When we look at the difficulties of the way, the perplexities which our souls have had to grapple with, the persecutions and hard blows from sinners and saints that we have had to encounter—what has still kept in us a desire to fear God, and a heart in some measure tender before Him? When we view the infidelity, unbelief, carnality, worldly-mindedness, hypocrisy, pride, and presumption of our fallen nature—what has kept us still believing, hoping, loving, longing, and looking to the Lord? When we think of our deadness, coldness, torpidity, rebelliousness, perverseness, love to evil, aversion to good, and all the abounding corruptions of our nature—what has kept us from giving up the very profession of religion, and swimming down the powerful current that has so long and so often threatened to sweep us utterly from the Lord? Is it not the putting forth of the Lord's secret power in our souls? Can we not look back, and recall to mind our first religious companions—those with whom we started in the race—those whom we perhaps envied for their greater piety, zeal, holiness, and earnestness—and with which we painfully contrasted our own sluggishness and carnality—admiring them, and condemning ourselves? Where are they all, or the greater part of them? Some have embraced soul-destroying errors—others are buried in a worldly religious system—and others are wrapped up in delusion and fleshly confidence. Thus, while most have fallen into the snares of the devil, God, by putting forth His secret power in the hearts of His fainting ones, keeps His fear alive in their souls—holds up their goings in His paths that their footsteps slip not—brings them out of all their temptations and troubles—delivers them from every evil work—and preserves them unto His heavenly kingdom. He thus secures the salvation of His people by His own free grace. How sweet and precious it is to have our strength renewed—to have fresh grace brought into the heart—to feel the mysterious sensations of renovated life—to feel the everlasting arms supporting the soul—fighting our battles for us, subduing our enemies, overcoming our lusts, breaking our snares, and delivering us out of our temptations! God's house In the New Testament Scriptures, we find mention made in several places of "the house of the God." The New Testament never, in any one instance, means, by "the house of God," any material building. It has come to pass, through the traditions received from the fathers, that buildings erected by man—collections of bricks and mortar—piles of squared and cemented stones—are often called "the house of God." In ancient Popish times they invested a consecrated building with the title of "God's house," thus endeavoring to make it appear as though it were a holy place in which God specially dwelt. They thus drew off the minds of the people from any internal communion with God, and possessed them with the idea that He was only to be found in some holy spot, consecrated and sanctified by rites and ceremonies. The same leaven of the Pharisees has infected the Church of England—and thus she calls her consecrated buildings, her piles of stone and cement, "churches," and "houses of God." And even those who profess a purer faith, who dissent from her unscriptural forms, have learned to adopt the same carnal language, and even they, through a misunderstanding of what "the house of God" really is, will call such a building as we are assembled in this morning, "the house of God." How frequently does the expression drop from the pulpit, and how continually is it heard at the prayer meeting, "coming up to the house of God," as though any building now erected by human hands could be called the house of the living God. It arises from a misunderstanding of the Scriptures, and is much fostered by that priestcraft which is in the human heart, inciting us to believe that God is to be found only in certain buildings set apart for His service. When the Holy Spirit preaches the gospel We often know the theory of the gospel, before we know the experience of the gospel. We often receive the doctrines of grace into our judgment, before we receive the grace of the doctrines into our soul. We therefore need to be brought down, humbled, tried, stripped of every prop—that the gospel may be to us more than a sound, more than a name, more than a theory, more than a doctrine, more than a system, more than a creed—that it may be soul enjoyment—soul blessing—and soul salvation. When the Holy Spirit preaches the gospel to the poor in spirit, the humbled, stripped, and tried—it is a gospel of glad tidings indeed to the sinner's broken heart. We get entangled with some idol Wherever the grace of God is, it constrains its partaker to desire to live to His honor and glory. But he soon finds the difficulty of so doing. Such is the weakness of the flesh, the power of sin, the subtlety of Satan, the strength of temptation, and the snares spread on every side for our feet, that we can neither do what we want, nor be what we want. Before we are well aware, we get entangled with some idol, or drawn aside into some indulgence of the flesh, which brings darkness into the mind, and may cut us out some bitter work for the rest of our days. But we thus learn not only the weakness of the flesh, but where and in whom all our strength lies. And as the grace of the Lord Jesus, in its suitability, in its sufficiency and its superaboundings, becomes manifested in and by the weakness of the flesh—a sense of His wondrous love and care in so bearing with us, in so pitying our case, and manifesting mercy where we might justly expect wrath, constrains us with a holy obligation to walk in His fear and to live to His praise. The sins & slips of the saints The Scriptures faithfully record the falls of believers—the drunkenness of Noah, the incest of Lot, the unbelief of Abraham, the peevishness of Moses, the adultery of David, the idolatry of Solomon, the pride of Hezekiah, the cowardice of Mark and the cursing and swearing of Peter. But why has the Holy Spirit left on record the sins and slips of the saints? First, that it might teach us that they were saved by grace as poor, lost, and ruined sinners—in the same way as we hope to be saved. Secondly, that their slips and falls might be so many beacons and warnings, to guard the people of God against being overtaken by the same sins. As the apostle speaks—"Now all these things happened to them by way of example, and they were written for our admonition." And thirdly, that the people of God, should they be overtaken by sin, might not be cast into despair—but that from seeing recorded in the Scripture the slips and failings of the saints of old, they might be lifted up from their despondency, and brought once more to hope in the Lord. Experimental knowledge "And this is eternal life, that they should know You, the only true God, and Him whom You sent, Jesus Christ." John 17:3 An experimental knowledge of Christ in the soul, is the only relief for sin's poverty, guilt, leprosy, bankruptcy and damnation. This is the true way of preaching Christ crucified—not the mere doctrine of the Cross, but a crucified Jesus experimentally known to the soul. I am deeply conscious of my own baseness, ignorance, blindness and folly. But my malady is too deeply rooted to be healed by dry doctrines and speculative theological opinions. The blood of the Lamb, spiritually and supernaturally sprinkled and applied, is the only healing balm for a sin-sick soul. Friend, can you understand my riddle? I find that sin has such power over me, that though I call on the Lord again and again for deliverance, I seem to be as weak as ever when temptation comes. If a window were placed in my bosom, what filth and vileness would be seen by all. "O you hideous monster sin, What a curse have you brought in!" I love it—I hate it. I want to be delivered from the power of it—and yet am not satisfied without drinking down its poisoned sweets. Sin is my hourly companion—and my daily curse. Sin is the breath of my mouth—and the cause of my groans. Sin is my incentive to prayer—and my hinderer of it. Sin made my Savior suffer—and makes my Savior precious. Sin spoils every pleasure—and adds a sting to every pain. Sin fits a soul for heaven—and ripens a soul for hell. Friend, can you understand my riddle? Is your heart, as my heart? Alas! Alas! We feel sin's power daily and hourly. We sigh and groan at times, to be delivered from the giant strength of our corruptions, which seem to carry us captive at their will. Though sin is a sweet morsel to our carnal mind, it grieves our soul. I am sure I must be a monument of grace and mercy, if saved from the guilt, curse, and power of sin! My greatest enemy? I have ever found myself to be my greatest enemy. I never had a foe that troubled me so much as my own heart—nor has any one ever wrought me half the mischief or given me half the plague that I have felt and known within. And it is a daily sense of this which makes me dread myself more than anybody that walks upon the face of the earth! Keep a watchful eye upon every inward foe—and if you fight, fight against the enemy that lurks and works in your own bosom! There are many plans in a man's heart "There are many plans in a man's heart; but the Lord's counsel will prevail." Proverbs 19:21 The plans of our heart are generally to find some easy, smooth, flowery path. Whatever benefits we have derived from affliction, whatever mercies we have experienced in tribulation, the flesh hates and shrinks from such a path with complete abhorrence. And, therefore, there is always a secret planning in a man's heart—to escape the cross, to avoid affliction, and to walk in some flowery meadow, away from the rough road which cuts his feet, and wearies his limbs. Another "plan in a man's heart" is, that he shall have worldly prosperity—that his children shall grow up around him, and when they grow up, he shall be able to provide for them in a way which shall be best suited to their station in life—that they shall enjoy health and strength and success—and that there shall not be any cutting affliction in his family, or fiery trial to pass through. Now these plans the Lord frustrates. What grief, what affliction, what trouble, is the Lord continually bringing into some families! Their dearest objects of affection removed from them, at the very moment when they seemed clasped nearest around their hearts! And those who are spared, perhaps, growing up in such a searedness of conscience and hardness of heart, and, perhaps, profligacy of life, that even their very presence is often a burden to their parents instead of a blessing—and the very children who should be their comfort, become thorns and briers in their sides! Oh, how the Lord overturns and brings to nothing the "plans of a man's heart" to make a paradise here upon earth. When a man is brought to the right spot, and is in a right mind to trace out the Lord's dealings with him from the first, he sees it was a kind hand which "blasted his gourds, and laid them low"—it was a kind hand that swept away his worldly prospects—which reduced him to natural as well as to spiritual poverty—which led him into exercises, trials, sorrows, griefs, and tribulations—because, in those trials he has found the Lord, more or less, experimentally precious. There are many plans in a man's heart. Now you have all your plans—that busy workshop is continually putting out some new pattern—some new fashion is continually starting forth from the depths of that ingenious manufactory which you carry about with you—and you are wanting this, and expecting that, and building up airy castles, and looking for that which shall never come to pass—for "there are many plans in a man's heart; but the Lord's counsel will prevail." And so far as you are children of God, that counsel is a counsel of wisdom and mercy. The purposes of God's heart are purposes of love and affection toward you, and therefore you may bless and praise God, that whatever be the plans of your hearts against God's counsel, they shall be frustrated, that He may do His will and fulfill all His good pleasure. All are more or less deeply infected with it "Do you seek great things for yourself? Seek them not!" Jeremiah 45:5 As we are led aside by the powerful workings of our corrupt nature, we are often seeking great things for ourselves. Riches, worldly comforts, respectability, to be honored, admired and esteemed by men—are the objects most passionately sought after by the world. And so far as the children of God are under the influence of a worldly principle, do they secretly desire similar things. Nor does this ambition depend upon station in life. All are more or less deeply infected with it, until delivered by the grace of God. The poorest man in these towns has a secret desire in his soul after "great things," and a secret plotting in his mind how he may obtain them. But the Lord is determined that His people shall not have great things. He has purposed to pour contempt upon all the pride of man! He therefore nips all their hopes in the bud, crushes their flattering prospects, and makes them for the most part, poor, needy, and despised in this world. Whatever schemes or projects the Lord's people may devise that they may prosper and get on in the world, He rarely allows their plans to thrive. He knows well to what consequences it would lead—that this ivy creeping round the stem would, as it were, suffocate and strangle the tree. The more that worldly goods increase—the more the heart is fixed upon them, the more the affections are set upon idols, the more is the heart drawn away from the Lord. He will not allow His people to have their portion here below. He has in store for them a better city, that is a heavenly one, and therefore will not allow them to build and plant below the skies. A child of God may be secretly aiming at great things, such as respectability, bettering his condition in life, rising step by step in the scale of society. But the Lord will usually disappoint these plans—defeat these projects—wither these gourds—and blight these prospects. He may reduce him to poverty, as He did Job—smite him with sickness, as He did Lazarus and Hezekiah—take away wife and children, as in the case of Ezekiel and Jacob—or He may bring trouble and distress into his mind by shooting an arrow out of His unerring bow into the conscience. God has a certain purpose to effect by bringing this trouble, and that is to pull him down from "seeking great things." For what is the secret root of this ambition? Is it not the pride of the heart? When the Lord, then, would lay this ambition low, He makes a blow at the root. He strips away fancied hopes, and breaks down rotten props, the great things (so through ignorance esteemed) sought for previously, and perhaps obtained, fall to pieces. Are you seeking great things for yourself? Don't do it! Ministers are often desirous "Do you seek great things for yourself? Seek them not!" Jeremiah 45:5 Ministers are often desirous of a greater gift in preaching, a readier utterance, a more abundant variety, a more striking delivery than they presently possess. And this, not for the glory of God—but for the glory of the creature! Not that praise may be given God—but that pride, cursed pride, may be gratified—that they may be admired by men. My desire and aim is not to deceive souls by flattery—not to please any party—not to minister to any man's pride or presumption—but simply and sincerely, with an eye to God's glory, with His fear working in my heart—to speak to the edification of His people. A minister who stands up with any other motives, and aiming at any other ends than the glory of God, and the edification of His people, bears no scriptural marks that he has been sent into the vineyard by God Himself. Superabounding grace "But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound." Romans 5:20 What are all the gilded toys of time compared with the solemn, weighty realities of eternity! But, alas! what wretches are we when left to sin, self, and Satan! How unable to withstand the faintest breath of temptation! How bent upon backsliding! Who can fathom the depths of the human heart? Oh, what but grace, superabounding grace, can either suit or save such wretches? "But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound." Job's religion "Oh that I knew where I might find Him!" Job 23:3 What a mere shallow pretense to vital godliness satisfies most ministers, most hearers, and most congregations! But there was a reality in Job's religion. It was not of a flimsy, notional, superficial nature. It was not merely a sound Calvinistic creed, and nothing more. It was not a religion of theory and speculation, nor a well-compacted system of doctrines and duties. There was something deeper, something more divine in Job's religion than any such mere pretense, delusion, imitation, or hypocrisy. And if our religion be of the right kind, there will be something deeper in it, something more powerful, spiritual, and supernatural, than notions and doctrines, theories and speculations, merely passing to and fro in our minds, however scriptural and correct. There will be a divine reality in it, if God the Spirit be the author of it. And there will be no trifling with the solemn things of God, and with our own immortal souls. The way in which the Spirit of God works As pride rises, it must be broken down. As self-righteousness starts up, it must be brought low. As the wisdom of the creature exalts itself against the wisdom of God, it must be laid prostrate. The way in which the Spirit of God works is to lay the creature low, by bringing it into nothingness, and crushing it into self-abasement and self-loathing, so as to press out of it everything on which the creature can depend. Like a surgeon, who will run his lancet into the abscess, and let out the gory matter, in order to effect a thorough cure—so the Spirit of the Lord thrusting His sharp sword into the heart, lets out the inward corruption, and never heals the wound until He has thoroughly probed it. And when He has laid bare the heart, He heals it by pouring in the balmy blood of Jesus, as that which, by its application, cleanses from all sin. The world is passing away "And the world is passing away with its lusts." 1 John 2:17 The world and all that is in it comes to an end. Where are the great bulk of the men and women who fifty, sixty, or seventy years ago trod London streets? Where are they who rode about in their gay carriages, gave their splendid entertainments, decked themselves with feathers and jewels, and enjoyed all the pleasures of life? Where are they? The grave holds their bodies, and hell holds their souls. "The world passes away." It is like a pageant, or a gay and splendid procession, which passes before the eye for a few minutes, then turns the corner of the street, and is lost to view. It is now to you who had looked upon it just as if it were not, and is gone to amuse other eyes. So, could you go on for years—enjoying all your natural heart could wish—lay up money by thousands—ride in your carriage—deck your body with jewelry—fill your house with splendid furniture—enjoy everything that earth can give—then there would come, some day or other, sickness to lay you upon a dying bed. To you the world has now passed away with all its lusts—with you all is now come to an end—and now you have, with a guilty soul, to face a holy God. The world is passing away with its lusts. All these lusts for which men have sold body and soul, half ruined their families, and stained their own name—all these lusts for which they were so mad that they would have them at any price, snatch them even from hell's mouth—all these lusts are passed away, and what have they left? A gnawing worm—a worm that can never die, and the wrath of God as an unquenchable fire. That is all which the love of the world can do for you, with all your toil and anxiety, or all your amusement and pleasure. You have not gained much perhaps of this world's goods, with all your striving after them. But could the world fill your heart with enjoyment, and your money bags with gold, as the dust of the grave will one day fill your mouth, it would be much to the same purpose. If you had got all the world, you would have got nothing after your coffin was screwed down, but grave-dust in your mouth. Such is the end of the world. The world is passing away with its lusts. DEATH is the great and final extinguisher of all human hopes and pleasures. Look and see how man sickens and dies, and is tumbled into the cemetery, where his body is left to the worms, and his soul to face an angry God, on the great judgment day. The world is passing away with its lusts. Weary "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28 The Lord's purpose in laying burdens upon us is to weary us out. We cannot learn our religion in any other way. We cannot learn it from the Bible, nor from the experience of others. It must be a personal work, wrought in the heart of each—and we must be brought, all of us, if ever we are to find rest in Christ, to be absolutely wearied out of sin and self, and to have no righteousness, goodness, or holiness of our own. The effect, then, of all spiritual labor is to bring us to this point—to be weary of the world, for we feel it, for the most part, to be a valley of tears—to be weary of self, for it is our greatest plague—weary of professors, for we cannot see in them the grace of God, which alone we prize and value—weary of the profane, for their ungodly conversation only hurts our minds—weary of our bodies, for they are often full of sickness and pain, and always clogs to our soul—and weary of life, for we see the emptiness of those things which to most people make life so agreeable. By this painful experience we come to this point—to be worn out and wearied—and there we must come, before we can rest entirely on Christ. As long as we can rest in the world, we shall rest in it. As long as the things of time and sense can gratify us, we shall be gratified in them. As long as we can find anything pleasing in self, we shall be pleased with it. As long as anything visible and tangible can satisfy us, we shall be satisfied with them. But when we get weary of all things visible, tangible, and sensible—weary of ourselves, and of all things here below—then we want to rest upon Christ, and Christ alone. "Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will give you rest." Oh, how religious he once used to be! "For the Son of man came to seek and to save those who are lost." Luke 19:10 Oh, how religious he once used to be! How comfortably he could walk to church with his Bible under his arm, and look as devout and holy as possible! How regularly also, he could read the Scriptures, and pray in his manner, and think himself pretty well, with one foot in heaven. But a ray of heavenly light has beamed into his soul, and shown him who and what God is—what sin and a sinful heart is—and who and what he himself as a sinner is. The keen dissecting knife of God has come into his heart, laid it all bare, and let the gory matter flow out. When his conscience is bleeding under the scalpel, and is streaming all over with the gore and filth thus let out, where is the clean heart once boasted of? Where is his religion now? All buried beneath a load of filth! Where is all his holiness gone? His holy looks, holy expressions, holy manners, holy gestures, holy garb—where are they all gone? All are flooded and buried. The sewer has broken out, and the filthy stream has discharged itself over his holy looks, holy manners, holy words and holy gestures—and he is, as Job says, 'in the ditch.' We never find the right religion, until we have lost the wrong one. We never find Christ, until we have lost SELF. We never find grace, until we have lost our own pitiful self-holiness. "For the Son of man came to seek and to save those who are lost." It is a creature of many lives! Man is a strange compound. A sinner, and the worst of sinners—and yet a Pharisee! A wretch, and the vilest of wretches—and yet pluming himself on his good works! Did not experience convince us to the contrary, we would scarcely believe that a monster like man—a creature, as someone has justly said, "half beast and half devil," should dream of pleasing God by his obedience, or of climbing up to heaven by a ladder of his own righteousness. Pharisaism is firmly fixed in the human heart. Deep is the root, broad the stem, wide the branches, but poisonous the fruit, of this gigantic tree, planted by pride and unbelief in the soil of human nature. Self-righteousness is not peculiar to only certain individuals. It is interwoven with our very being. It is the only religion that human nature understands, relishes, or admires. Again and again must the heart be ploughed up, and its corruptions laid bare, to keep down the growth of this pharisaic spirit. It is a creature of many lives! It is not one blow, nor ten, nor a hundred that can kill it. Stunned it may be for a while, but it revives again and again! Pharisaism can live and thrive under any profession. Calvinism or Arminianism is the same to it. It is not the garb he wears, nor the mask he carries, that constitutes the man. The believer's chief troubles As earth is but a valley of tears, the Christian has many tribulations in common with the world. Family troubles were the lot of Job, Abraham, Jacob and David. Sickness befell Hezekiah, Trophimus and Epaphroditus. Reverses and losses fell upon Job. Poverty and famine drove Naomi into the land of Moab. Trouble, then, is in itself no sign of grace—for it inevitably flows from, and is necessarily connected with, man's fallen state. But we should fix our eye on two things, as especially marking the temporal afflictions of the Lord's family: 1. That they are all weighed out and timed by special appointment. For though man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upwards, yet "affliction doesn't come from the dust, neither does trouble spring out of the ground." Job 5:6 2. That they are specially sanctified, and made to work together for good to those who love God. But the believer's chief troubles are internal, and arise from the assaults of Satan, powerful temptations, the guilt of sin laid on the conscience, doubts and fears about a saving interest in Christ, and a daily, hourly conflict with a nature ever lusting to evil. A religion that satisfies thousands "Having a form of godliness but denying the power thereof." 2 Timothy 3:5 Much that passes for religion, is not true religion at all. Much that goes for hopes of salvation, is nothing but lying refuges. Much is palmed off for the teaching of the Spirit, which is nothing but delusion. Vital godliness is very rare. There are very few people spiritually taught of God. There are very few ministers who really preach the truth. Satan is thus daily deceiving thousands, and tens of thousands. A living soul, however weak and feeble in himself, cannot take up with a religion in the flesh. He cannot rest on the opinions of men, nor be deceived by Satan's delusions. He has a secret gnawing of conscience, which makes him dissatisfied with a religion that satisfies thousands. Down they sink to the bottom! "Until the pit is dug for the wicked." Psalm 94:13 In Eastern countries, the ordinary mode of catching wild beasts is to dig a pit, and fix sharp spears in the bottom. And when the pit has been dug sufficiently deep, it is covered over with branches of trees, earth, and leaves, until all appearances of the pitfall are entirely concealed. What is the object? That the wild beast intent upon bloodshed—the tiger lying in wait for the deer, the wolf roaming after the sheep, the lion prowling for the antelope, not seeing the pitfall, but rushing on and over it, may not see their doom until they break through and fall upon the spears at the bottom. What a striking figure is this! Here are the ungodly, all intent upon their purposes—prowling after evil, as the wolf after the sheep, or the tiger after the deer—thinking only of some worldly profit, some covetous plan, some lustful scheme, something the carnal mind delights in—but on they go, not seeing any danger until the moment comes when, as Job says, "they go down to the bars of the pit." The Lord has been pleased to hide their doom from them. The pit is all covered over with leaves of trees, grass, and earth. The very appearance of the pit was hidden from the wild beasts—they never knew it until they fell into it, and were transfixed! So it is with the wicked—both with religious professors and the profane. There is no fear of God, no taking heed to their steps, no cry to be directed, no prayer to be shown the way—no pausing, no turning back. On they go, on they go—heedlessly, thoughtlessly, recklessly—pursuing some beloved object. On they go, on they go—until in a moment they are plunged eternally and irrevocably into the pit! There are many such both in the professing church as well as in the ungodly world. The Lord sees what they are, and where they are. He knows where the pit is. He knows their steps. He sees them hurrying on, hurrying on, hurrying on. All is prepared for them. The Lord gives them no forewarning, no notice of their danger, no teachings, no chastenings, no remonstrances, no frowns, no stripes. They are left to themselves to fill up the measure of their iniquity, until they approach the pit that has been dug for them, and then down they sink to the bottom! Who can come out of the battle alive? "Hold me up, and I shall be safe!" Psalm 119:117 We know little of ourselves, and less of one another. We do not know our own needs, what is for our good, what snares to avoid, what dangers to shun. Our path is bestrewed with difficulties, beset with temptations, surrounded with foes, encompassed with perils. At every step there is a snare! At every turn an enemy lurks! Pride digs the pit, carelessness blindfolds the eyes, carnality drugs and intoxicates the senses, the lust of the flesh seduces, the love of the world allures, unbelief paralyzes the fighting hand and the praying knee, sin entangles the feet, guilt defiles the conscience, and Satan accuses the soul. Under these circumstances, who can come out of the battle alive? Only he who is kept by the mighty power of God. "Hold me up, and I shall be safe!" God's mercy "Look upon me, and be merciful to me." Psalm 119:132 When shall we ever get beyond the need of God's mercy? We feel our need of continual mercy as our sins abound, as our guilt is felt, as our corruption works, as our conscience is burdened, as the iniquities of our heart are laid bare, as our hearts are opened up in the Spirit's light. We need—mercy for every adulterous look—mercy for every covetous thought—mercy for every light and trifling word—mercy for every wicked movement of our depraved hearts—mercy while we live—mercy when we die—mercy to accompany us every moment—mercy to go with us down to the portals of the grave—mercy to carry us safely through the swellings of Jordan—mercy to land us safe before the Redeemer's throne! "Look upon me, and be merciful to me." Why me? Because I am so vile a sinner. Because I am so base a backslider. Because I am such a daring transgressor. Because I sin against You with every breath that I draw. Because the evils of my heart are perpetually manifesting themselves. Because nothing but Your mercy can blot out such iniquities as I feel working in my carnal mind. I need—inexhaustible mercy, everlasting mercy, superabounding mercy. Nothing but such mercy as this can suit such a guilty sinner! A flowery path? Does the road to heaven lie across a smooth, grassy meadow, over which we may quietly walk in the cool of a summer evening, and leisurely amuse ourselves with gathering of flowers and listening to the warbling of the birds? No child of God ever found the way to heaven a flowery path. It is the wide gate and broad way which leads to perdition. It is the strait gate and narrow way—the uphill road, full of difficulties, trials, temptations, and enemies—which leads to heaven, and issues in eternal life. But our Father manifests mercy and grace. He never leaves nor forsakes the objects of His choice. He fulfills every promise—defeats every enemy—appears in every difficulty—richly pardons every sin—graciously heals every backsliding—and eventually lands them in eternal bliss! Toys & playthings of the religious babyhouse "I will feed My flock." Ezekiel 34:15 The only real food of the soul must be of God's own appointing, preparing, and communicating. You can never deceive a hungry child. You may give it a plaything to still its cries. It may serve for a few minutes—but the pains of hunger are not to be removed by a doll. A toy horse will not allay the cravings after the mother's milk. So with babes in grace. A hungry soul cannot feed upon playthings. Altars, robes, ceremonies, candlesticks, bowings, mutterings, painted windows, intoning priests, and singing men and women—these dolls and wooden horses—these toys and playthings of the religious babyhouse, cannot feed the soul that, like David, cries out after the living God. Christ, the bread of life, the manna that came down from heaven—is the only food of the believing soul. (John 6:51) But oh, the struggle! Oh, the conflict! "I will overturn, overturn, overturn it; and it shall be no more." Ezekiel 21:27 Jesus wants our hearts and affections. Therefore every idol must go down, sooner or later, because the idol draws away the affections of the soul from Christ. Everything that is loved in opposition to Him must sooner or later be taken away, that the Lord Jesus alone may be worshiped. Everything which exacts the allegiance of the soul must be overthrown. Jesus shall have our heart and affections, but in having our heart and affection, He shall have it wholly, solely, and undividedly. He shall have it entirely for Himself. He shall reign and rule supreme. Now, here comes the conflict and the struggle. SELF says, "I will have a part." Self wants to be—honored, admired, esteemed, bowed down to. Self wants to indulge in, and gratify its desires. Self wants, in some way, to erect its throne in opposition to the Lord of life and glory. But Jesus says, "No! I must reign supreme!" Whatever it is that stands up in opposition to Him, down it must go! Just as Dagon fell down before the ark, so self must fall down before Christ—in every shape, in every form, in whatever subtle guise self wears, down it must come to a wreck and ruin before the King of Zion! So, if we are continually building up SELF, Jesus will be continually overthrowing self. If we are setting up our idols, He shall be casting them down. If we are continually hewing out "cisterns that can hold no water," He will be continually dashing these cisterns to pieces. If we think highly of our knowledge, we must be reduced to total folly. If we are confident of our strength, we must be reduced to utter weakness. If we highly esteem our attainments, or in any measure are resting upon the power of the creature, the power of the creature must be overthrown, so that we shall stand weak before God, unable to lift up a finger to deliver our souls from going down into the pit. In this way does the Lord teach His people the lesson that Christ must be all in all. They learn—not in the way of speculation, nor in the way of mere dry doctrine, not from the mouth of others—but they learn these lessons in painful soul-experience. And every living soul that is sighing and longing after a manifestation of Christ and desiring to have Him enthroned in the heart—every such soul will know, sooner or later an utter overthrow of self—a thorough prostration of this idol—a complete breaking to pieces of this beloved image—that the desire of the righteous may be granted, and that Christ may reign and rule as King and Lord in him and over him, setting up His blessed kingdom there, and winning to Himself every affection of the renewed heart. Are there not moments, friends, are there not some few and fleeting moments when the desire of our souls is that Christ should be our Lord and God—when we are willing that He should have every affection—that every rebellious thought should be subdued and brought into obedience to the cross of Christ—that every plan should be frustrated which is not for the glory of God and our soul's spiritual profit? Are there not seasons in our experience when we can lay down our souls before God, and say—"Let Christ be precious to my soul, let Him come with power to my heart, let Him set up His throne as Lord and King, and let self be nothing before Him?" But oh, the struggle! oh, the conflict—when God answers these petitions! When our plans are frustrated, what a rebellion works up in the carnal mind! When self is cast down, what a rising up of the fretful, peevish impatience of the creature! When the Lord does answer our prayers, and strips off all false confidence—when He does remove our rotten props, and dash to pieces our broken cisterns, what a storm—what a conflict takes place in the soul! But He is not to be moved—He will take His own way. "I will overturn—let the creature say what it will. I will overturn—let the creature think what it will. Down it shall go to ruin! It shall come to a wreck! It shall be overthrown! My purpose shall be accomplished—and I will fulfill all My pleasure. Self is a rebel who has set up an idolatrous temple—and I will overturn and bring the temple to ruin—for the purpose of manifesting My glory and My salvation, that I may be your Lord and your God." If God has overturned our bright prospects—shall we say it was a cruel hand that laid them low? If He has overthrown our worldly plans—shall we say it was an unkind act? If He has reduced our false righteousness to a heap of rubbish, in order that Christ may be embraced as our all in all—shall we say it was a cruel deed? Is he an unkind father who takes away poison from his child—and gives him food? Is she a cruel mother who snatches her boy from the precipice on which he was playing? No! The kindness was manifested in the act of snatching the child from destruction! So if the Lord has broken and overthrown our purposes, it was a kind act—for in so doing He brings us to nothing—that Christ may be embraced as our all in all—that our hearts may echo back, "O Lord, fulfill all Your own promises in our souls, and make us willing to be nothing—that upon the nothingness of self, the glory and beauty and preciousness of Christ may be exalted!" A snake, a monkey, an onion, a bit of rag "Little children, keep yourselves from idols!" 1 John 5:21 Idolatry is a sin very deeply rooted in the human heart. We need not go very far to find the most convincing proofs of this. Besides the experience of every age and every climate, we find it where we would least expect it—the prevailing sin of a people who had the greatest possible proofs of its wickedness and folly—and the strongest evidences of the being, greatness, and power of God. It is true that now this sin does not break out exactly in the same form. It is true that golden calves are not now worshiped—at least the calf is not, if the gold is. Nor do Protestants adore images of wood, brass, or stone. But rank, property, fashion, honor, the opinion of the world, with everything which feeds the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—are as much idolized now, as Baal and Moloch were once in Judea. What is an idol? It is that which occupies that place in our esteem and affections, in our thoughts, words and ways, which is due to God only. Whatever is to us, what the Lord alone should be—that is an idol to us. It is true that these idols differ almost as widely as the peculiar propensities of different individuals. But as both in ancient and modern times, the grosser idols of wood and stone were and are beyond all calculation in number, variety, shape, and size. So is it in these inner idols, of which the outer idols are mere symbols and representations. Nothing has been too base or too brutal, too great or too little, too noble or too vile, from the sun walking in its brightness—to a snake, a monkey, an onion, a bit of rag—which man has not worshiped. And these intended representations of Divinity were but the outward symbols of what man inwardly worshiped. For the inward idol preceded the outward—and the fingers merely carved what the imagination had previously devised. The gross material idol, then, is but a symbol of the inner mind of man. But we need not dwell on this part of the subject. There is another form of idolatry much nearer home—the idolatry not of an ancient Pagan, or a modern Hindu—but that of a Christian. Nor need we go far, if we would but be honest with ourselves, to each find out our own idol—what it is, how deep it lies, what worship it obtains, what honor it receives, and what affection it engrosses. Let me ask myself, "What do I most love?" If I hardly know how to answer that question, let me put to myself another—"What do I most think upon? In what channel do I usually find my thoughts flow when unrestrained?"—for thoughts flow to the idol as water to the lowest spot. If, then, the thoughts flow continually to the farm, the shop, the business, the investment—to the husband, wife, or child—to that which feeds lust or pride, worldliness or covetousness, self-conceit or self-admiration—that is the idol which, as a magnet, attracts the thoughts of the mind towards it. Your idol may not be mine, nor mine yours—and yet we may both be idolaters! You may despise or even hate my idol, and wonder how I can be such a fool, or such a sinner, as to hug it to my bosom! And I may wonder how a partaker of grace can be so inconsistent as to love such a silly idol as yours! You may condemn me, and I condemn you. And the Word of God, and the verdict of a living conscience may condemn us both. O how various and how innumerable these idols are! One man may possess a refined taste and educated mind. Books, learning, literature, languages, general information, shall be his idol. Music, vocal and instrumental, may be the idol of a second—so sweet to his ears, such inward feelings of delight are kindled by the melodious strains of voice or instrument, that music is in all his thoughts, and hours are spent in producing those harmonious sounds which perish in their utterance. Painting, statuary, architecture, the fine arts generally, may be the Baal, the dominating passion of a third. Poetry, with its glowing thoughts, burning words, passionate utterances, vivid pictures, melodious cadence, and sustained flow of all that is beautiful in language and expression, may be the delight of a fourth. Science, the eager pursuit of a fifth. These are the highest flights of the human mind. These are not the base idols of the drunken feast, the low jest, the mirthful supper—or even that less debasing but enervating idol—sleep and indolence, as if life's highest enjoyments were those of the swine in the sty. You middle-class people—who despise art and science, language and learning, as you despise the ale-house, and ball field—may still have an idol. Your garden, your beautiful roses, your verbenas, fuchsias, needing all the care and attention of a babe in arms, may be your idol. Or your pretty children, so admired as they walk in the street—or your new house and all the new furniture—or your son who is getting on so well in business—or your daughter so comfortably settled in life—or your dear husband so generally respected, and just now doing so nicely in the farm. Or your own still dearer SELF that needs so much feeding, and dressing and attending to. Who shall count the thousands of idols which draw to themselves those thoughts, and engross those affections which are due to the Lord alone? You may not be found out. Your idol may be so hidden, or so peculiar, that all our attempts to touch it, have left you and it unscathed. Will you therefore conclude that you have none? Search deeper, look closer—it is not too deep for the eye of God, nor too hidden for the eyes of a tender conscience anointed with divine eye-salve. Hidden diseases are the most incurable of all diseases. Search every fold of your heart until you find it. It may not be so big nor so ugly as your neighbor's. But an idol is still an idol, whether so small as to be carried in the coat pocket, or as large as a gigantic statue. An idol is not to be admired for its beauty, or loathed for its ugliness—but to be hated because it is an idol. "Little children, keep yourselves from idols!" The mother & mistress of all the sins "I hate pride, arrogance, the evil way, and the perverse mouth." Proverbs 8:13 "Everyone who is proud in heart is an abomination to the Lord." Proverbs 16:5 Of all sins, pride seems most deeply embedded in the very heart of man. Unbelief, sensuality, covetousness, rebellion, presumption, contempt of God's holy will and word, deceit and falsehood, cruelty and wrath, violence and murder—these, and a forest of other sins have indeed struck deep roots into the black and noxious soil of our fallen