always pleased when his people revere his authority, and try to live to his glory. And, did they all understand and believe this often-revealed fact, they would all do more and better in his service.

It is however, not very easy to comprehend this fact, even after seeing that it is both an often and clearly-revealed fact. And it is peculiarly difficult to see, how the habitual belief of it could be combined with habitual humility, and especially with the dread of a self-righteous spirit. For, should we not be in perpetual danger of falling into a legal spirit, and of thinking too highly of ourselves, if we allowed ourselves, from day to day, to think that God was at all pleased with us? Would not familiarity with such a hope, betray us unto pride, if not into some presumption? Besides; whoever saw any, even of the most eminent Christians, actuated by the belief that God was pleased with them? Have they not all gone through life, and into Eternity, making mention of the Righteousness of Christ, and of His only? Has not God's being "well pleased" in Christ, been the sole and sheet anchor of all whom we have seen live or die in the faith? Is it not, then, safest, on the whole, to confine ourselves to the habit of guarding against displeasing God; and to leave it to the Judgment-seat and Heaven, to make manifest to us both the kind and the degree of that pleasure, which God “taketh in them who fear Him?” They will be able to bear the discovery with meekness then, and to be sure to make a good use of it there: whereas, here, it might puff them up, and thus pervert them from the simplicity of the Gospel.

You see that I am not at all inclined to overlook any real or apparent danger, which might arise from attempting to act much on this principle. Indeed, I am persuaded, that we could not act safely, and long too, on it alone. No single principle is enough for beings who have two natures. The flesh must have principles suited to control it, as well as the spirit principles suited to exalt it. But, whilst we thus open our eyes to all the danger which may spring up

from the self-righteous tendencies of human nature, we ought to take equal care not to overlook the danger there is of being betrayed by its slothful tendencies; for we are quite as much inclined to be lazy as to be legal. In fact, these suspicions about self-righteousness, ought, themselves, to be suspected, until their whole character is thoroughly sifted. There is, no doubt, much real honesty in them, and not less of good intention; and yet, there may be, also, some fraud in them. Satan is quite capable of weaving a "wile" to entrap the conscience, even out of our humility and selfsuspicion.

Let us, therefore, be very jealous of every consideration, which would divert us from trying to please God. Whatever would keep out that motive from the list of evangelical motives, now that we know it to be one of them, is a mistake, if not something worse. For, only look at the position we should place ourselves in, by declining, under whatever pretence, to adopt this motive! In that case, we should stand before God and man, confessed slaves in the service of God; acting only from fear. Now, that we do

not.

There is something both of hope and love, and more of gratitude, influences our obedience. The dread of the lash is not our sole, nor our chief, reason for working or watching. Why not, then, work and watch, with all these better reasons in union with the fine spirit of a fixed purpose to please God? All our best motives would improve, under the guidance of such a spirit. It would enable them to carry us much farther in duty, than they have done. This is as obvious, as it is certain. If, therefore, we are willing to go farther in serving God, the way is now open to us. We see clearly where the spirit of pleasing would lead. And now, if we are unwilling to go any farther than we have hitherto done, it is not altogether the godly fear of self-righteousness which makes us hesitate. Is it? Let conscience answer this question, to the Searcher of hearts. The fear of self-righteousness must not, however, be laid aside, nor let down. That would, indeed, be a Satanic

lesson, which taught us to think lightly of the legal tendencies of our nature. They are as strong, and as full of stratagem, and as much on the alert to betray us, as our slothful propensities are. But, do you not see, that we should best defeat both, by aiming to please God? You do see, that this resolution would shake sloth to its very centre. It could neither keep on, nor creep on our spirit, as it does, if we are determined to please God, by our work and warfare. And, what could be such a safeguard against legality, as a determination to please Him, by our glorying only in the Cross? O, a clinging to the Righteousness of Christ, which had for its immediate object, to please a God by its simplicity, its exclusiveness, and its humility, would be the true antidote to legality. Whoever, therefore, would make and keep Christ "all and all" in salvation, will best do so by trying to make his faith well pleasing unto God.

No. II.

ON REPENTING SO A S TO PLEASE GOD.

UNLESS our repentance please God, it cannot profit us. It is not, however, equally true, that God is displeased with our penitence, because we ourselves are not pleased with it. It may be very unsatisfactory to us, and yet "well pleasing" to Him. Angels may have rejoiced over our repentance, although we can only weep over it. It may be registered in heaven as sincere and saving, and yet suspected by us as legal or questionable.

Is God, then, more easily pleased with the contrition of true penitents, than they themselves are? Can that shame or sorrow for sin which dissatisfies us, satisfy Him? However this may be, one thing is quite certain; that no real penitent was ever perfectly satisfied with his own repent

ance. Many have been quite sure of the sincerity of their sorrow for sin, and of the cordiality of their hatred to sin; but no one was ever quite pleased with either feeling. The humblest do not think themselves humble enough; and the most self-abased feel the necessity of sinking deeper in the dust of self-abasement before God. What Paul said, in reference to his personal holiness, the most penitent would readily say concerning his own repentance," Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect; but I follow after." Thus, it is a part of true humility, yea, the very spirit of it, to be displeased with itself. And this is one grand reason why God is pleased with the penitence of many, who are ashamed of the defects, and suspicious of the reality of their own repentance. He is pleased to see them displeased with themselves.

It is, therefore, neither a contradiction in terms, nor a paradox in truth, to affirm that God may be "well pleased" with our repentance, although we ourselves are afraid to call or consider it true repentance. Indeed, the more we are ashamed of it, the more God is likely to approve of it. Let us not, therefore, wonder nor lament that we are not satisfied with the depth of our "godly sorrow." It would not be "godly" sorrow, if we thought it humble enough, or could think of it with self-complacency. For, do you not see at a glance that the man who could say or suppose that he had repented enough-must be both ignorant and proud? There is no " enough" in any right feeling towards God, until there can be no more. The humility of penitence will deepen to all eternity. It will be free in heaven, from all pain and shame; but it will be even more profound amidst the splendours of the throne, than it was in the dust of the footstool. How, then, could any one, on earth, think himself penitent enough?

It is, however, one thing to be ashamed of our imperfect repentance; and another, quite different, to have but too much cause for shame. God is certainly not pleased with that kind of repentance, which does not try to please Him.

Thousands are very much displeased with their own penitence; but it is not, on that account, pleasing to God.

This remark does not at all contradict my preceding statements. I refer now to those fits and starts of repentance, which are forced upon the conscience by alarm, and thrown off as soon as they will shake off; and to those intervals of bitter remorse and self-upbraiding, which are followed by a return to the very sins which wrung the conscience; and to those workings of the conscience itself, which, whilst they draw on the heart to the very verge of penitence, yet leave it unmelted and undecided. Now, wherever there is a process of sinning and repenting going on; and wherever the heart withholds itself from giving way to the strivings of grace, there may well be great dissatisfaction with such repentance. And, whether there be so or not, God despises it. "A broken and a contrite heart, God will not despise," although there be much imperfection in its penitence but a heart that dislikes to melt; and that tries to shut itself up against melting influence; and that tears itself away from prayer and meditation, when they seem about to dissolve it in godly sorrow, deserves no pity from God. and obtains none, whilst it thus resists his Holy Spirit. Nothing, indeed, is more displeasing to God, than hearts which thus start back, “like a deceitful bow," whenever they are brought to the point. And yet, this, alas, is not uncommon. There are many, in whose consciences conviction has gone so far, that they keep away from faithful preaching, because they feel that, under it, they must yield to the strivings of the Spirit. And there are more in whose bosoms a sense of guilt and danger has such a hold, that they dare not venture to pray long in secret, because they see clearly how full and fervent prayer would overcome their indecision, and disable them from standing out against their convictions any longer. O yes; it is not altogether from aversion to prayer, nor yet from grudging the time, that many shun their closets, and more hurry out of them; but from the conviction that the spirit of prayer, if