intellectual and moral powers, as also in their indefinite capability alike for good and for evil. It is seen in the vast provision made for its development and improvement in the world without, in the diversity and beauty and endless meaning and magnificence of the universe of objects created for its use and ready to minister to its enjoyment. It is seen especially in its relation to the Divine Being as the subject of His moral government, and in the perpetually accumulating measure of its responsibility to Him; in the amazing price that has been paid for its deliverance from sin and its perfection in holiness; and in the everlasting destiny that awaits it, whether for weal or for woe, when its present career shall have come to a close.

Now of this Divine gift how few are there who have any adequate, or, indeed, any real apprehension whatever! I speak not of men uncivilized, or of the heathen alone, but of multitudes even in nominally Christian lands. These live hardly any other than a purely animal and brutish life. Though endowed with the wonderful power of self-introspection, they have never turned their eye inward to look down into themselves. Their gaze has been always outward, and their desires and hopes always of the earth, earthy. They have felt the craving of appetite and the excitement of passion, and to the gratification of these they have devoted their lives; but they have never gone behind or below them, and centred their thought on that "inspiration of the Almighty" which is of the essence of their being, and which remains the same, undecayed and undecaying, when appetite and passion fall off in sickness or expire in death. They are indeed themselves but so many bundles, or, at least, so many organized collections, of appetites and passions, with just so much of intellectual faculty in positive exercise as is necessary to secure them a fuller enjoyment of their respective objects. They are "in honour," to apply the words of the Psalmist, "but understanding it not, are like the beasts that perish."

Somewhat different must be our judgment of those who have recognized the claims of reason as well as the solicitations of sense; who have learnt even to speak of the "dignity of human nature," because they have seen or felt something of its purely intellectual capability. Yet even of these, while only at this point, it may be said that they are far from a just estimate of themselves. The heaven-descended precept, "Know thyself," has been observed by them but in part. Besides an animal and intellectual, they have-what is higher than both—a moral and religious nature; and this, with its stupendous powers and possibilities, is to them, for the most part, a region yet unknown, or at least a mine yet unexplored. They have been compelled now and then to recognize its existence, as one or more of its secret chords have been struck into painful vibration by some unusually startling event; but they have never seriously considered either what it

is, or what it was destined to become; never thought of it in its vast capacity for good or for evil, for happiness or for misery; never viewed it, or sought to view it, with any just impression of its almost immeasurable claims and responsibilities, in its solemn yet ennobling relations to God and eternity. They have thus in themselves a treasure of incalculable preciousness, but, unhappily, it is as "a

treasure hid in a field."

Now the Gospel makes rich by revealing what is thus hidden, by putting man into conscious possession of what he has, but knows it not, or knows it so imperfectly that he may be said to be practically ignorant of it. It does not do this formally and discursively, as its object is, not to teach philosophy, but to make wise unto salvation. Purely rational demonstration would fail of the effect required. Only a few would be able to follow it, and still fewer would care to make the effort. Moreover, what addresses the intellect does not for that reason necessarily "search the reins and the heart." It rather often finds the entrance thereto closed up, and guarded the more sedulously because the intellect is known to be knocking at the door. While, again, it is not systematic, still less elaborate instruction that is wanted so much, as a life-giving energy that shall make the soul directly and vividly conscious of itself. This the Gospel supplies, and this constitutes its pre-eminent distinction. Human systems and philosophies have at best nothing but naked truth to give. The Gospel has truth and something more. "The word of God," says the apostle, "is quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." And yet more explicitly our Lord says, "The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life."

The Gospel thus acts vitally, because in fact the subject on which it acts is dead. Whenever it "comes" with due authority and effect, it "comes not in word only, but also in power." There is, no doubt, an absolute fitness to its end in the letter itself, but the vivifying influence resides solely in its spirit. "It is the spirit that quickeneth," and by quickening reveals and demonstrates what before was buried and concealed. A man becomes conscious of himself, philosophy tells us, in being conscious of himself in some particular state; and in like manner he realizes the existence of his soul, or, if not, learns to appreciate its unspeakable preciousness, in being made conscious of himself as a sinner. Sensibility once awakened, self-reflection and self-knowledge necessarily follow. Some effort of the understanding may precede this, as truth is the instrument always employed, but the knowledge itself develops subsequently out of the feeling. The Gospel aims directly at the heart, though it enters by the door of the intellect. It appeals to the conscience,

smiting it as with a hammer, and the blow reverbreates through the whole moral being. It speaks to the fears, to the hopes, to that native sympathy with what is lovely and of good report which in some minds seems active and strong, notwithstanding their share in the common depravity, and the nature throughout comes directly under its spell. The impression made on one power vibrates to all the rest. The influence poured through one channel finds its way to the innermost depths of the soul. There death was, and there life now begins. Man feels, and hence knows. Convinced of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment, the conviction becomes as an inward revelation from above. He is brought into a condition of self-consciousness never before realized. "The candle of the Lord" burns brightly within him. He learns for the first time, or for the first time with any true and deep intelligence, that he has a soul which must live for ever; a soul of all but infinite preciousness because of all but infinite capacity, whether for happiness or for misery; a soul corrupted by sin yet redeemed by Christ, and destined in the end, just as the corruption may remain or the redemption may be accepted and enjoyed, to be "punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power," or to be admitted immediately to his dwelling-place in heaven, and there, in most intimate fellowship with him, to grow continually, with ever-accelerating progress, towards the perfection of his excellence and the fulness of his blessedness. It is thus the word of God, which is quick and powerful and piercing, becomes also discerning. "The entrance of it giveth light; it giveth understanding to the simple."

II. The Gospel makes rich by its unlimited provisions of grace, answering to all that the soul can need and desire.

It is through the fear of losing it, we have said, that man comes to know how precious his soul is; and his knowledge is then greatest when, under the influence of this fear, he is constrained to cry out, "What must I do to be saved?" The practical answer to this question is the wealth which the Gospel bestows.

The term "riches" is applied to those material possessions which satisfy the requirements and serve the interests of the present life, and is thence borrowed to describe those Divine communications which meet the necessities and constitute the well-being of the immortal spirit, securing to it at once the holiest satisfactions on earth, and "in the heavens a treasure that faileth not." These Divine communications are "the true riches," "the unsearchable riches of Christ;" and they may be presented under a threefold division, as the riches of faith, of good works, and of heavenly blessedness and glory.

First, as the riches of faith. The phrase itself is Scriptural. "God," says the Apostle James, "hath chosen the poor of this

world rich in faith." Whatever may be the nature of faith, the power itself belongs essentially to our constitution, not less so, indeed, than any other power which ordinarily develops into a habit. It is the complementary and balancing power of reason; so much so, that no step in life is taken without the joint exercise of both, whilst that step is most wisely taken in which each corrects and yet supports the other. An excess of faith leads to credulity; an excess of reason leads to scepticism; what the apostle calls "the spirit of a sound mind" results from both in due proportion and in perfect harmony.

As commonly understood, faith is mainly a religious faculty. Religious interests are undoubtedly its chief and greatest objects. To our faith, as the organ which apprehends them, the great doctrines of Christianity are addressed; and to our faith, as the condition of their reception and enjoyment, the great blessings of Christianity are offered. This is the one power which unites us vitally with Christ, and gives us to know him as "all our salvation, and all our desire." There is, of course, with this a deep conviction of need, a sense of utter guilt and danger, otherwise a living faith were impossible; but it is the faith itself which constitutes the one effectual condition on which the soul is delivered from the bondage and bitterness of sin, and brought into conscious reconciliation and peace with God. The same faith, too, is instrumental to a complete renovation of the whole spiritual character. Without such renovation no abiding blessedness could be had. Deliverance were but a transient and precarious joy. At most, forgiveness is but the forgiveness of sins that are past, whereas man's necessity is a present and continual freedom from sin as sin. He must, as the apostle phrases it, become "a new creature," and, in order to this, he must, as the Redeemer tells us, "be born again." Without such a change, an act of pardon would be but as a new starting-point to new transgressions, and would require to be followed by other similar acts in perpetual succession. Even then no substantial good would be gained, since all such recurring acts would only make the need of other acts continually greater, and the effect of them continually less. With forgiveness, therefore, there must be renewal. A man must not only be "in Christ Jesus," but "a new creature in Christ Jesus."

And he becomes both at the same time, and by the same means. The faith that surrenders the whole self to Christ, admits into the heart Divine agencies and influences which, working mightily, regenerate the entire nature. Not simply does it open the passage to their entrance, but it eagerly accepts and even claims them as promised to its exercise, adding to their essential and effectual power whatever power it can call its own. These living energies are the

Truth and the Spirit of God, whether considered separately, in their individual action, or together, in their joint agency as "spirit and life" to him that receives them. Truth as truth is the object of faith, and hence a man is said to be "born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever." The Holy Spirit, too, is the object of faith, because He is expressly "the Holy Spirit of promise," and hence we are told that a man must be "born of the Spirit," and that believers "are washed, are sanctified, are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God." Neither, however, in the production of this great change, operates alone, and when either is mentioned alone, it is not as really being so, but as presupposing and including the other. Neither by itself is the whole Gospel-"the Gospel of our salvation." The truth and the grace go together. "The good word of God" is "tasted,” that is, relished and enjoyed, only when it is accompanied by His power, and made effectual in them that believe. In one passage both agencies are distinctly specified as concurring to the same result: "God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth."

But regeneration is not thoroughly understood when we have grown familiar with the name. This familiarity tends rather to conceal its meaning. Usually we think of it as a process of cleansing, as the washing away of original or contracted defilement, and as thus having for the most part only a negative kind of value. But while it is this, it is much more. It is the inspiration and conscious activity of a new life, containing in itself all the germinant principles of future spiritual manhood. The life is that of the several powers and affections of the individual subject, according to the specialities of his natural constitution. Its characteristic elements, therefore, will be in different proportions and degrees, both of experience and manifestation, as those specialities are greater or less. It is in this sense, as well as in the peculiar and extraordinary sense intended by the apostle, that "there are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit.” These elements, however, are in themselves alike in all, and in all alike their increase and measure of perfection depend on the effort that is voluntarily put forth to grow in grace. "The kingdom of God is righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance." These are all included in that great and universal change in man's nature by which he passes from death unto life; and where they are, the soul may truly be said to be "filled with all pleasant and precious riches."

To the riches of faith we must add, secondly, the riches of good works This phrase also is borrowed from Scripture, St. Paul