may not be God's pardon, nor our forgetfulness, (if the thing were possible under some circumstances) the oblivion of our sins from the remembrance of the Almighty. True, God has said by the prophet Isaiah, "I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy transgressions, for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins." True, he has repeated the declaration by the prophet Jeremiah, "For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more." And I will add, all this is confirmed, in two places, by the Apostle, and he uses the same words in both; And their sins, and their iniquities, will Iremember no more." But then, the same Apostle tells us, how this important and wonderful event is to take place, "Be it known unto you therefore, men and brethren, that, through this man, is preached unto you, the forgiveness of sins." And, in another place, the instrumental and meritorious cause of the remission of sins, "Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation, through FAITH in his BLOOD, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past." Now, to attempt to forget our sins, prior to the time that God has forgotten them ;-before we have taken refuge at the cross of Christ; before the reliance of the soul upon the blood of Jesus, for immediate and conscious pardon, would, unquestionably be the very method to ruin the soul eternally. What I meant, therefore, in my last, was, you must not suffer the recollection of your sins to keep you from your Saviour. There is a danger of thinking too much about our sins, as there is of thinking too little of them. When the eye of the soul is fixed upon the "sins which are past," and the circumstances which led to their commission, to such a degree, as not to have a moment left to look unto Jesus, then the matter is carried too far. You have received injury enough from your sins; but, by this course, you most surely draw rest. new and deadly poison from them. An embargo must be laid upon your thinking faculties. You must prohibit your thoughts from travelling over your sins so repeatedly. You say, "I may as well try to control the whirlwind, as my thoughts. They must have employment; I cannot possibly lay them to A sense of my danger, and a dread of dying without forgiveness, forbid my thoughts to be lulled into repose. I do not require that they be "lulled into repose," nor drowned in oblivion; this is perhaps impossible but turn them into another channel; send them to Calvary. Let them circulate with ceaseless activity around the bleeding cross. Employ them in the work of associating with a sense of guilt, an equal perception of that blood by which it is to be washed away. Let those untiring operations of your mind, spend themselves in fathoming the love of God in Christ Jesus. We may indeed say of this, as of the depths of the sea, no human sounding-line has ever reached the bottom; yet, you will find it much more profitable, to let thought, in its sleepless energy, travel this fathomless profound, than explore the dark abyss of your sins. Better, at every landing-place in that descent, to be forced into the exclamation of an Apostle, " O, the depth," than with the awakened sinner, Romans, vii, sinking in "the horrible pit, and miry clay;" crying in anguish and despair, 66 O, wretched man that I am; who shall deliver me?" Had the poor serpent-bitten Israelite only bemoaned himself;-had he, in spite of every entreaty, obstinately fixed his eye upon the wound; or agonizingly gazed upon the path taken by the gliding serpent, which had given him his death-wound ;-if he had firmly persisted in mourning over his own carelessness, in permitting himself to be bitten ;-reproaching his own culpable indifference to personal safety, when so many were writhing in agony unsup portable, and the camp was horribly vocal with the hissing warnings of the flying serpents: suppose also, that his eye had continued wildly rolling to and fro, in order to guard against another attack; and all the time, madly refusing to cast one look at the brazen serpent erected upon the pole ;-what, but death, and that a dreadful one must have been his portion, if he had persisted? I have not time to show how applicable all this is to your case; your own good sense, however, can make the application. When the Israelite cast a dying look at the serpent on the pole, were it even through the mists of death, he was healed in a moment. May I entreat you again to look to Jesus? Your repentance and convictions are deep enough when they bring you to the cross, and leave you there, with your weeping eyes fixed on your bleeding Saviour, as your last and only hope. But when they drive you past, and far beyond, into the region of despair; or, when they frighten your approaching soul away from it; and this, either from a dread of repulsion, or that your sins are so great that the atonement is insufficient; then they are too deep. The devil has then the advantage of you: he is most assuredly using the remembrance of your sins to complete your ruin, just as he did the commission of them to begin it. Think of the aged dying Christian, with which you were so much pleased. Neither friendship, nor honour, nor high renown, interested his mind; nor for a moment carried away his thoughts to a retrospect of the past. They were calmly and serenely centered in God. The name, the precious name of God in Christ, was dearer to his faultering heart than any object that had ever arrested that heart's affections. This name was the centre of his soul; here it rested; all else was forgotten as a dream: this was enough; this possessed a charm which defied the assaults of death, and saved him from dismay in his dying hour. "His final hour brings glory to his God." "You see the man; you see his hold on heaven! A silent lecture, but of Sovereign power! To vice confusion; and to virtue peace." Oh! then, withdraw your mind from all the past, from all your sins.-Your thoughts are intense; let their intensity be fixed on Jesus. Again, I say look unto him and be saved. Think about Christ, His death,-His blood,-His sufferings. Now let Jesus be precious; "To you who believe he is precious," says the Apostle. Precious Jesus! He died for thee my brother. Is he not "The chief among ten thousand, and the altogether lovely?" Think of what one has said about him: "All the names that love could find, Thee my soul, his own to make." Are you not this moment in the act of falling upon your knees,-Matthew, vi. 6. Behold him Lord! In imagination I see you just going to the cross; approaching Jesus, saying "With throbbing head, and heaving breast, With trembling hands, and tottering feet, I think I hear you there; the fountains of the great long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth." I think I hear Jesus saying to your tortured heart "peace, be still," and there is a calm; a sweet heavenly calm. Sunshine, glory, and heaven descend from God into your heart;—Oh, my Lord, let it be, while he is reading this paper. I remain, your deeply interested and sympathizing brother in our Lord Jesus Christ, LETTER XXXV. TO THE SAME. J. C. My dear Brother, Dublin, December 23, 1841. Your state of soul surprises me. I feel persuaded the hindrance must be in yourself. I verily believe God has no exceptions against you-He is as willing to bless you as the scores of immortal souls who are now finding pardon in this city. Broken-hearted penitents are obtaining mercy every night. God is the same everywhere; and he is able and willing to bless you in * * * *; surely he is. I could, it is true, wish you were with us in this powerful revival; but as this cannot be, it need not be a bar. Oh, no, I do think you may adopt the language of a verse in our hymn book, "In me is all the bar, Which thou would'st fain remove." That bar may be unbelief, or impatience, or indistinct and confused notions of faith; perhaps erroneThere may be an unwillingness to venture ous. |