SERMON XIV.

JOHN XV, 26.

But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of Truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall testify of me.

THE last conversations of our Saviour with his disciples, as recorded in the gospel of St. John, are of the most interesting and affecting nature. His repeated declarations of his own approaching death, and of the tribulation and sorrow to which they would be exposed from the malice and cruelty which sought to banish his name and gospel from the world, had made a deep and mournful impression upon their hearts. They had been buoyed up till then with the long indulged hope of their nation, that their Messiah was to reign in glory at Jerusalem, and bring back to the towers of Sion the peace and prosperity to which they had so long been strangers. Through the whole course of our Saviour's earthly ministry, this hope had clung to their hearts:

if it wavered at times when their Master submitted to the contempt and insults of their countrymen, yet every fresh miracle served but to kindle it anew, and every repeated display of power seemed a prelude to the establishment of an universal dominion. But when the time of his departure was at hand, when he told them that his sojourn with them was but for a little while; that the hour would soon arrive when they would seek him but would not find him ; and that where he was going they could not follow; the spirit of illusory expectation, which had animated them so long, died away, and sorrow and despondency succeeded in its stead. To console them in this hour of distress, he made that gracious promise to which the text alludes. He told them that, although he was about to leave them, yet he would pray the Father, who would give them another Comforter, to abide with them for ever. As an additional source of consolation, he added, that his removal from amongst them, though it might be painful for a time, would yet in the end prove a great and lasting benefit. "It is expedient for you that I go away for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send him unto you."

It is probable, indeed, that this promise was but ill understood by the afflicted disciples, that it did not then convey much comfort to their

sorrows, that it was in a very short time entirely forgotten. Not that they would, like too many amongst ourselves, reject with contempt the offers of assistance thus mercifully held out to them, but their inexperience of the advantages of such aid, caused them to think but little of its efficacy. It was on the day of Pentecost, the anniversary of which we are now assembled to celebrate, that the mighty effects of the presence of this heavenly guardian were made manifest before them. On this day, we read, "they were all with one accord in one place," meditating probably upon their own dangerous and helpless condition, though doubtless cheered by the recent wonders of the resurrection and ascension of their beloved Master. In the midst of their anxious, and, perhaps, melancholy conferring, "there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and filled all the house were they were sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues, like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance." How graciously was the promise of the Saviour fulfilled! He foretold a Comforter, and the first operation of this blessed co-operator in man's salvation, was to enable the disciples to surmount without difficulty, and even without trouble, one of the most formidable

obstacles that opposed their ministry. Their Lord had commanded them to preach the gospel to every creature; and they must have often felt the apparent impracticability of fulfilling this injunction, from their incapacity to hold any communication with those nations which were strangers to their own language. But the tongues of fire, fit emblems of the effect to be produced by their descending, dispelled all doubt, and gifted the first preachers of the truth with a passport into every land.

When this subject arrests our attention, and it cannot fail to do so whenever it is brought before us, every serious and pious heart will mourn over the melancholy perversion which has been made in our days of a dispensation so holy. Some there are, I am willing to hope, deceived rather than deceivers, who imagine that the mantle of the apostles has descended upon them, and that the senseless jargon which they pour forth at their frantic assemblies, is an emanation from the throne of grace, a miraculous visitation, though for what purpose designed it would indeed be difficult to tell. But whilst we pity the deluded enthusiasts who perform at these strange exhibitions, we cannot but deeply deplore the injury done to the cause of the gospel by such absurdities. They furnish the scoffer with an extra jest ; they provide the sceptic with fresh weapons;

they whet the arrows of his calumny to a sharper point. I will trespass, however, no longer upon your time, by making further allusions to these unhappy errors. They do not prevail, I believe, to any great extent, and let us trust that, as they will be found to yield no fruit, so, like the barren fig-tree, they may wither and die.

This day calls rather for other topics of exhortation, other sources of religious improvement. You have seen that our Saviour, when he announced the future descent of the Holy Ghost, spoke of him as the Comforter. You have also learned that the first manifestation of his presence was to give strength and support to the apostles, by removing one of the greatest difficulties they had to encounter. This, however, was but the beginning of his gracious assistance. The rushing wind, indeed, might not be heard, the tongues of fire might not be seen again, but the presence of the divine visitant, of whose first coming they were the heralds, was never withdrawn. In all their wanderings, in all their woes, he was present with them as a burning and a shining light. He hoveredaround the head of the earliest martyr of the faith; he consoled and cheered his spirit, when earth had nothing but wounds, and misery, and insult to offer him. By one bright vision of immortal splendour, he dashed aside the bitterness of death, and gave the expiring