knows has no validity. He knows that however real this inability may be, it is of such a nature as to afford no excuse for his continuing in sin, because the conviction of its reality co-exists, in his own consciousness, with a sense of guilt. It is a plea therefore that does not avail at the bar of his own conscience, and he knows that it will not avail at the bar of God. In like manner, when men object to the strictness of the divine law, they do so with the inward persuasion of the righteousness of that law. Its requirements commend themselves to their conscience. They know that as God is infinitely wise and good, it is right that we should regard him with supreme affection, and implicitly submit to all his directions.

All such cavilling objections, men know to be false. God has not left himself without a witness. His voice has an authority which we cannot resist. When he tells us we are sinners, we know it to be true. When he tells us that we are worthy of death, we know it to be a righteous judgment. When he tells us that we have no strength to save ourselves and that our salvation depends upon his will, we know it to be even so. Whenever he reveals himself our mouths are shut, not from fear merely, but from an intimate persuasion of the justice of all his ways. It is, then, both foolish and wicked to urge objections

against the truth, which we ourselves know to be futile, whether this be done with a view to perplex our fellow-men, or in the vain endeavour to silence the accusations of conscience and the word of God.

Such is the power of truth that neither the natural insensibility of the heart, nor the want of consideration, nor the direct efforts which men make to suppress serious thoughts, nor the whole array of sophistical objections, can avail to counteract the secret conviction in the breast of the impenitent that they are in the road to eternal death. This conviction is often very weak. When men are engrossed in the concerns of this world, it is overlooked. Still it is there; and it is ever and anon waking up to trouble them. Nor can the suggestion that God is merciful and, peradventure, will not be strict to mark iniquity, quiet this uneasy apprehension. This suggestion, therefore, avails but little. It is counteracted by the sense of ill-desert, by the irrepressible conviction that those who commit sin are worthy of death; by the plain declarations of Scripture, and by the evidence which even providence affords that God is righteous. The vague apprehension of coming wrath, therefore, in despite of all their efforts, still haunts the path of the impenitent. It chills their joys and gathers strength

whenever the world seems to be receding from their

grasp.

It

Most men are driven to enter the plea of guilty before the bar of conscience, and content themselves with praying for a delay of judgment. They are forced to admit that they are not fit to die in their present state; that they are bound to comply with the requirement of the gospel, but they plead for time. Go thy way for this time; when I have a more convenient season I will call for thee. Conscience is more easily deluded by this plea, which seems to admit its demands, than by any other. is, therefore, the most dangerous snare for souls. Men do not reflect on the wickedness of pleading with God for liberty to continue, a little longer in sin; to be allowed to break his commandments, to disregard his mercies, to slight his love, and to injure the cause of truth and righteousness. They do not think of the indignation with which they would reject such a plea from an ungrateful and disobedient son or servant. Nor do they remember that every such act of procrastination is a great aggravation of their guilt, as it supposes a consciousness of the evil of their present course and a recognition of the righteousness of all the demands of God. Nor do they consider that the difficulties which beset the path of their return to God are all

increased by delay. If the work of repentance be irksome to-day, it will be more irksome to-morrow. If the heart be now hard, it will become yet harder by neglect. If the power of sin be now too strong for us to resist, it will become still stronger by indulgence. If the motives to repentance now fail to secure obedience, they will act with constantly increasing disadvantage hereafter. If God be justly displeased now, he will be more and more displeased by continued disobedience. Every day's procrastination therefore increases, at a fearful rate, the probability of our final perdition.

CHAPTER IV.

CONVICTION OF SIN.

SECTION I. Knowledge of sin. Sense of personal illdesert.

THOUGH men are generally so indifferent to their sinfulness and danger, it often pleases God to arouse their attention, and to produce a deep conviction of the truth of all that the Bible teaches on these subjects. The effects of such conviction are very various, because they are modified by the tempera ment, the knowledge, the circumstances and concomitant exercises of those who experience it. A sentence of death, if passed upon a hundred men, would probably affect no two of them alike. The mind of one might fasten particularly on the turpitude of his crime; that of another upon the disgrace which he had incurred; that of a third on the sufferings of his friends on his account; that of a fourth upon the horrors of death, or upon the fearfulness of appearing before God. All these and many other views, in endless combination, might operate with