How amiable are thy tabernacles." Religion, where it is real, is the natural element of a Christian; and every creature rejoices in its own appropriate sphere. If, my children, you consider true piety with disgust, as a hard, unnatural, involuntary thing, you are totally igno-' rant of its nature, entirely destitute of its influence, and no wonder you cannot attach to it the idea of pleasure: but viewing it as it ought to be viewed, in the light of a new nature, you will perceive that it admits of most exalted delight.

3. Consider the miseries which it prevents.

It does not, it is true, prevent sickness, poverty, or misfortune: it does not fence off from the wilderness of this world, a mystic inclosure, within which the ills of life never intrude. No; these things happen to all alike: but how small a portion of human wretchedness flows from these sources, compared with that which arises from the dispositions of the heart. "The mind is its own place, can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven." Men carry the springs of their happiness or misery in their own bosom. Hence it is said of the wicked, "that they are like the troubled sea which cannot rest, which is never at peace, but continually casting up mire and dirt." In contrast with which, it is affirmed that "the work of righteousness is peace; and that the good man shall be satisfied from himself." Would you behold the misery entailed by pride, look at Haman; by covetousness, look at Ahab; by malice, look at Cain; by profaneness and sensuality, united with the forebodings of a guilty conscience, look at Belshazzar; by envy, and a consciousness of be

ing rejected of God, look at Saul; by revenge, look at Herodias writhing beneath the accusations of John, and thirsting for his blood; by apostacy, look at Judas. Religion would have prevented all this, and it will prevent similar misery in you. Hearken to the confessions of the outcast in the land of his banishment; of the felon in his irons, and in his dungeon; of the prostitute expiring upon her bed of straw; of the malefactor at the gallows-"Wretched creature that I am, abhorred of men, accursed of God! To what have my crimes brought me!"* Religion, my children, prevents all this; all that wretchedness which is the result of crime, is cut off by the influence of genuine piety. Misery prevented is happiness gained. 4. Dwell upon the privileges it confers.

To a man who is a partaker of its genuine influence, all the sins he has committed, be they ever so numerous or so great, are all forgiven, and he is introduced to the bliss of pardoned guilt; he is restored to the favour of that Great Being, whose smile is life, and lights up heaven with joy; whose frown is death, and fills all hell with wo. But I cannot describe these privileges in such brilliant language as has been employed by a transatlantic author:-" Regeneration is of the highest importance to man, as a subject of the divine government. With his former disposition he was a rebel against God, and with this he becomes cheerfully an obedient subject. Of an enemy he becomes friend

a

of an apostate he becomes a child.

*See more on this subject in the chapter on the Temporal Advantages of Piety.

From the debased, hateful, miserable character of sin, he makes a final escape, and begins the glorious and eternal career of virtue. With his character his destination is equally changed; in his native condition he was a child of wrath, an object of abhorrence, and an heir of wo. Evil, in an unceasing, and interminable progress, was his lot; the regions of sorrow and despair his everlasting home; and fiends and fiend-like men his eternal companions. On his character good beings looked with detestation, and on his ruin with pity; while evil beings beheld both with that satanic pleasure, which a reprobate mind can enjoy at the sight of companionship in turpitude and destruction.

But when he becomes a subject of this great and happy change of character, all things connected with him are also changed. His unbelief, impenitence, hatred of God, rejection of Christ, and resistance of the Spirit of Grace, he has voluntarily and ingenuously renounced; no more rebellious, impious or ungrateful, he has assumed the amiable spirit of submission, repentance, confidence, hope, gratitude, and love. The image of his Maker is enstamped upon his mind, and begins there to shine with moral and eternal beauty. The seeds of immortality have there sprung up, as in a kindly soil; and warmed by the life-giving beams of the Sun of Righteousness, and refreshed by the dewy influence of the Spirit of Grace, rise, and bloom and flourish, with increasing vigour. In him sin and the world and the flesh daily decay, and daily announce their approaching dissolution; while the soul continually assumes new life and virtue, and is animated with superior and undying

energy. He is now a joint heir with Christ, and the destined inhabitant of heaven; the gates of glory and of happiness are already opened to receive him, and the joy of saints and angels has been renewed over his repentance; all around him is peace-all before him purity and transport. God is his Father; Christ his Redeemer; and the Spirit of truth his Sanctifier. Heaven is his eternal habitation; virtue is his immortal character; and cherubim and seraphim and all the children of light, are his companions for ever. Henceforth he becomes of course a rich blessing to the universe; all good beings, nay, God himself, will rejoice in him for ever, as a valuable accession to the great kingdom of righteousness, as a real addition to the mass of created good, and as an humble, but faithful and honourable instrument of the everlasting praise of heaven. He is a vessel of infinite mercy; an illustrious trophy of the cross; a gem in the crown of glory, which adorns the Redeemer of mankind."*

Who, my children, can read this animated description of the privileges of true piety (and it is not an exaggerated account) without secretly longing to be a child of God? What are all the brightest distinctions of an earthly nature, after which envy pines in secret, or ambition rages in public, compared with this? Crowns are splendid baubles, gold is sordid dust, and all the gratifications of sense but vanity and vexation of spirit, when weighed against such splendid immunities as these.

5. Consider the consolations it imparts.

* Dwight's Sermon on Regeneration.

Our world has been called, in the language of poetry, a vale of tears, and human life a bubble, raised from those tears, and inflated by sighs, which, after floating a little while, decked with a few gaudy colours, is touched by the hand of death, and dissolves. Poverty, disease, misfortune, unkindness, inconstancy, death, all assail the travellers as they journey onward to eternity through this gloomy valley; and what is to comfort them but religion?

The consolations of religion are neither few nor small; they arise in part from those things which we have already mentioned in this chapter; i. e. from the exercise of the understanding on the revealed truths of God's word, from the impulses of the spiritual life within us, and from a reflection upon our spiritual privileges: but there are some others, which, though partially implied in these things, deserve a special enumeration and distinct consideration.

A good conscience, which the wise man says is a perpetual feast, sustains a high place amongst the comforts of genuine piety. It is unquestionably true, that a man's happiness is in the keeping of his conscience; all the sources of his felicity are under the command of this faculty. "A wounded spirit who can bear?" A troubled conscience converts a paradise into a hell, for it is the flame of hell kindled on earth; but a quiet conscience would illuminate the horrors of the deepest dungeon with the beams of heavenly day; the former has often rendered men like tormented fiends amidst an elysium of delights, while the latter has taught the songs of cherubim to martyrs in the prison or the flames. Religion furnishes a good conscience; by faith in