language of human nature; it has been the language of every heart that is now beating in this place; it is in too many instances its language still: « I am rich; I am increased in goods; I have need of nothing." But what says God to us? "Wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked." Yes: wretched, when your hearts are swelling with what you call happiness; wretched, amidst the song and the dance, and all the delights that folly and thoughtlessness can impart; wretched, when you just grasp the things you love best, and say "Now I am satisfied for ever:" "Wretched," says God, even then. And poor too poor, amidst your silver and gold; poor, among your hoarded thousands; poor, in your spacious homes and your costly furniture; poor, while swelling with pride on account of your wealth in your counting-houses, and surrounded by your business. And blind, too: as ignorant, naturally, of all that is worth knowing, as the brute beasts that perish. And naked, also: naked as sin can strip you exposed amidst gospel light and gospel privileges to all the dangers of your lost condition-as much so, while out of Christ, as the idolater and the heathen; not like a man clothed and fenced from the wintry storm, but like a man left in that storm, bare and helpless, with not a garment to cover him, nor anything to shield him from its pitiless blast. Wretched," says God, "and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked."

NOW THE END OF OUR LORD'S INTERPOSITION ON OUR BEHALF was not to confirm this state of things, but to alter it: it was, we read, to make us "rich" that is, to put us in possession, not merely of all that we need as rational and immortal beings, as creatures of urgent wants and an endless existence; but to supply our necessities so abundantly, to heap on us so much more than we need, that no desire shall be left ungratified, that even in God's estimation, that even in the heavenly world we shall be called happy, and not accounted so simply, but actually be so; that we shall be in heaven, not paupers and pensioners, but seated on high in heaven among the lofty and great, rejoicing in all the enriched riches and glory. Christ came not merely to give us the money that would seem to be needful to carry us through the world; but to give us the fine gold of heaven to enrich us, to give us his own spotless garments to cover and adorn us.

And observe, the Apostle does not say that Christ came merely to save or redeem us, but he says he became poor to enrich us; in other words, to make us partakers of his own blessedness. Look, for a moment, at the state of the rich inan in hell. What has that proud worldling now that he can call his own? What is there within that man's reach that he can grasp and make his own? He cries for a drop of water, but he cries and laments in vain. Such is a picture of the utter poverty of fallen man. Look now at the beggar, Lazarus, carried to heaven on the wings of angels, placed in the bosom of Abraham, the friend of God, surrounded with all the glory and blessedness of heaven, of God himself. Such is the condition to which Christ is both able and willing to raise us.

When he visited our world, it was not merely that he might pluck us as brands from the burning: no, this was only the first step in the design he had in view; his ultimate object was to make us like himself, to make us the children of God, and exalt us to heaven at last. Before he became poor we were debtors: we had nothing to pay; now, if we are his people, all things are ours. The

world, we are told, is ours; eternity is ours; life and death are ours; things present and things to come, all in earth and heaven that our desires can grasp, or our natures receive-all, all are ours. We were poor as poor could be; we are now in Christ rich as creatures of God can be.

Notice THE CLOSE CONNEXION WHICH EXISTS BETWEEN THE POVERTY OF CHRIST AND THE RICHES OF HIS PEOPLE-the direct influence that the one is said to have had and to have on the other. "For our sakes," says the text, "he became poor, that "-what? That he might pass through a state of earthly poverty to a state of authority and power, and exercise this authority and power in raising up and enriching us? We might say yes, for so it really was; but the Apostle does not say so: he says not one word here about the Redeemer's lofty exaltation and greatness; he ascribes our blessedness solely to his abasement, and in such a way as though he were determined we should not misunderstand him or overlook his meaning. He " became poor" for us, he says, "that we through his poverty might be rich.”

How strong, we may say, is this language, and yet how true! We understand it, therefore, that Christ became man not only for our sakes, but as our representative. In this character he fulfilled that law which we had broken, and so magnified it, put so much honour on its character and authority by the penalty he paid to it on the cross, that the way is now open for the free and honourable exercise of Jehovah's mercy, his mercy to the most guilty of Adam's race. He is pleased to regard the degradation and the death of Christ, as an atonement and expiation for our sins; and the obedience and righteousness of Christ, he regards as though it were our obedience and our righteousness; he imputes it to us; and having done this, he deals with us as righteous in consequence of it. Interpret these words in any sense that comes materially short of this, and what can we make of them? The Redeemer's poverty enriches us : Yes," says Paul," it does;" he says this here; again and again elsewhere he says the same: "Yes," says the whole Church below; and " Yes," answers the triumphant Church above. "Through his poverty we are rich." All ascribe the salvation and the glory they enjoy to the manger and the cross. And except we thus regard this manger and this cross, can we speak thus, and regard these things as a satisfaction and expiation for sin?

Now, if any of you cavil at this statement-if your judgment or feelings revolt at it, be assured that you have yet to learn the very first rudiments of Christ's Gospel; you are in a state of complete darkness as to the real character and design of Christianity: whoever may know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, you clearly are utterly ignorant of it. The crucified Redeemer-I mean the Redeemer crucified, not for our example, or in testimony of his own pretensions, but crucified mainly for our sins, as a sacrifice, an atonement, an expiation-this is the one great feature, the one grand peculiarity of the Gospel of Christ and never will you rejoice in the Gospel, nor heartily love or prize it, and never come much under its cheering and purifying influence, nor be enriched by it on earth, or carried by it to heaven, till you view the Gospel in this light; till the poverty of Christ has become the foundation of your best hopes, of all your hopes; till his cross gets so interwoven with all your views of God, and your feelings towards him become so mixed up with every secret

emotion of your soul, that you now sum up all the religion you possess, in calling it "glorying in the cross of the Lord Jesus Christ," of love to that cross, and a heartfelt experience of its power.

In conclusion, let me implore every one of you to ask yourselves what you know of the grace you have now heard of? You observe the Apostle speaks of the knowledge of him: "Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ." And by this he means something more than the knowledge we may have of a mere fact of science: he has in view such a knowledge of it as we style experimental; that is, following out the experience of knowledge; the same kind of knowledge as the once diseased man has of the remedy that saved him; or the once perishing beggar has of the royal gift that enriched him; or as you and I have of the sun's light and heat. Be assured there is such a knowledge of the Gospel as this; and be assured, also, it is the only knowledge of the Gospel that is worth possessing; no other knowledge will bear you up at last. You may know much about the Gospel; but if you only know it as a man of science may know the properties of food-if you never bring the Gospel home to your own souls, it will no more save your souls, than understanding the properties of food will, without taking that food, strengthen the body.

Ask yourselves, then, each one for himself, Do I know the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ? It was once a mere matter of hearsay to me-a matter of speculation and inquiry: is it now a matter of experience? Do I know it in my inmost soul? Is it now affecting my heart, producing in my feelings and in my affections such results as were never produced before? What, for instance, do I think of my own spiritual condition? Am I conscious of that utter poverty in myself of which I have heard this morning; to which this text alludes? Do I feel that when ministers speak of spiritual poverty, they cannot speak of it in stronger terms than I feel it? And what do I think of the poverty, humiliation, and death of our Lord Jesus Christ? Am I resting on him to enrich me? Am I building on him all my hopes of happiness and salvation? Is he actually enriching me? Do I feel he has put me in possession of that which is more valuable to me than all possessions besides? Has he given me that which I rejoice in more than I rejoice in anything or everything else? Could I be content with him though all else that is dear to me were gone? Do I feel that the Gospel has put something in my heart, which, though I had nothing else, would still leave me rich-would still cause me to deem myself a happy man?

Then bless God, brethren, for his goodness towards you. Love the Lord Jesus Christ, not only for the grace he displayed in his deep voluntary poverty, but for the further grace he has manifested by conveying the knowledge of it into your souls. Strive to become more acquainted with it-to feel, and exemplify, and embody, by a holier life, more of its influence. There can be no surer sign of our having been enriched by Christ than a desire to be more enriched; no surer test of knowing him aright, than hungering and thirsting to know him more.

And let this text, brethren, stir you up to a right view of your situation as Christians. It is not merely salvation that Christ has made yours-mere deliverance; but wealth above, wealth of the highest kind-spiritual wealth and riches: such things as are deemed valuable, not in this poor world, but in the

glorious heaven, and even now causes angels and archangels-yea, God himself, to deem you rich in Christ; rich on earth-yea, complete in him; having in hand enough to excite your wonder and thankfulness, and in prospect what this Apostle calls in another place "all the fulness of God."

Oh, brethren, we seem almost as ignorant of our privileges in Christ, as we were once of our danger and misery out of him. To look for one day, for one hour, into our hearts, notwithstanding their torpor and coldness, the wretched sinkings, the low paltry cares-who could believe that you and I are rich in Christ Jesus? Who could believe that you and I thought ourselves rich men? The poor starving miser thinks of his gold when anything troubles him, and the thought comforts him. But where is the comfort that we sometimes get amidst worldly losses and bereavements from the thoughts of our treasure? There are moments when we scarcely think of it at all. Oh, if there be any creatures in the world who need to walk humbly, we are them. Let us humble ourselves before him, if for nothing else, yet for this-that we think so little of the unsearchable riches of Christ.

PERSEVERANCE IN WELL DOING.

REV. J. L. GALTON, A.M.`

PERCY CHAPEL, CHARLOTTE STREET, FITZROY SQUARE, AUGUST 24, 1831.

"And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not." GALATIANS, vi. 9.

I AM now about, brethren, to consider the language already read, in connexion with the object which is more especially to be brought before your notice this evening. And, may he who speaks, and you who hear, be enabled rightly to understand their meaning. Without the Spirit's work, who among us can know the things of God; who among us can rightly understand that word, which, while it is the word of God, and maketh wise unto salvation in the hearts of them that believe, is also, in too many cases, speaking after the manner of men, only a savour of death unto death; because men, through the perverseness of their hearts, and through the unbelief that remains in them, will not look in simplicity to the will of God.

My friends, let but your eye be single, and straightway your whole body shall be full of light. Ask that God may open to you his mind and his will, and not keep from you any of those mysteries which it is expedient for you to know, whereby your present peace may be secured, and a well-grounded hope obtained of your being with Christ when he appeareth, that you may behold his glory. Ask the Father of lights, who giveth liberally and upbraideth not, and you shall receive; for every one that rightly asketh receiveth; every one that asketh with a hungering and thirsting after righteousness, shall receive: and to him that cometh with a firm determination that he will not go away without the blessing, even as Jacob did of old time, when he wrestled with the Incarnate God until the break of day, and said, "I will not let thee go except thou bless me;" knocking at the gate of heaven it shall be opened; the gate of everlasting life shall be indeed opened, and the sinner shall have the full blaze of God's glory shining in upon his soul, chasing the shades of darkness, and error, and death away, and giving him a hope full of immortality, and a joy unspeakable; already a foretaste of that bliss which remaineth for the children of God. "And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not."

I will call your attention, in the first place, to THE SPEAKER, or rather THE WRITER. The language was written, as we find, under inspiration, by Paul to the church at Galatia. The commencement of the Epistle runs thus: "Paul, *On behalf of the Percy Chapel Schools.