He that cometh to God, must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.-Heb. xi. 6. THE first thing to be impressed on the soul is, that there is a God; that he is a real most transcendent Being. As sure as the sun that shineth hath a being, and the earth that beareth us hath a being, so sure hath God that made them a being infinitely more excellent than theirs. As sure as the streams come from the fountain, and as sure as earth, and stones, and beasts, and men did never make themselves, nor do uphold themselves, or continue the course of nature in themselves and others, nor govern the world, so sure is there an infinite eternal Being that doth this. Every atheist that is not mad, must confess that there is an eternal Being, that had no beginning or cause; the question is only, Who this is? Whichever it is, it is this that is the true God. What now would the atheist have it to be? Certainly it is that Being that hath being itself from none, that is the first cause of all other beings: and if it causeth them, it must necessarily be every way more excellent than they, and contain all the good that it hath caused; for none can give that which he hath not to give; nor make that which is better than itself; that Being that hath made so glorious a creature as the sun, must needs itself be much more glorious. It could not have put strength and power into the creatures, if it had not itself more strength and power. It could not have put wisdom and goodness in the creatures, if it had not more wisdom and goodness than all they. Whatever it is therefore that hath more power, wisdom, and goodness than all the world besides, that is it which we call God. That cause that hath communicated to all things else, the being, power and all perfections which they have, is the God whom we acknowledge and adore; if Democratists will ascribe all this to atoms, and think that the motes did make the sun; or if others will think that the sun is God, because it participateth of so much of his excellency; let them be mad awhile, till judgment shall convince them. So clear beyond all question to my soul, is the being of the Godhead, that the devil hath much lost the rest of his more subtle temptations, when he hath foolishly and maliciously adjoined this, to draw me to question the being of my God; which is more than to question, whether there be a sun in the firmament. But what is the impress that the being of God must make upon the soul? I answer, from hence the holy soul discerneth that the beginning and the end of his religion, the substance of his hope, is the being of beings, and not a shadow; and that his faith is not a fancy. The object is as it were the matter of the act. If our faith, and hope, and love, and fear, be exercised in a delusory work, God is to the atheist but an empty name; he feels no life or being in him; and accordingly he offereth him a shadow of devotion, and a nominal service. But to the holy soul there is nothing that hath life and being but God, and that which doth receive a being from him, and leadeth to him. This real object putteth a reality into all the devotions of a holy soul. They look upon the vanities of the world as nothing; and therefore they look on worldly men as on idle dreamers that are doing nothing. This puts a seriousness and life into the faith and holy affections of the believer. He knows whom he trusteth. He knows whom he loveth, and in whom he hopeth. Atheists, and all ungodly men, do practically judge of God as the true believer judgeth of the world. The atheist takes the pleasures of the world to be the only substance; and God to be but as a shadow, a notion, or a dream. The godly take the world to be as nothing, and know it is but a fancy and a dream, and shadow of pleasures, and honor, and profit, and felicity, that men talk of and seek so eagerly below; but that God is the substantial object and portion of the soul. If you put into the mouth of a hungry man, a little froth, or breath, or air, and bid him eat it, and feed upon it, he will tell you, he finds no substance in it; so judgeth the graceless soul of God, and so judgeth the gracious soul of the creature, as separate from God. Let this be the impression on thy soul from the consideration of God's transcendent being. O look upon thyself and all things as nothing without him! and as nothing in comparison of him! and therefore let thy love to them be as nothing, and thy desires after them, and care for them, as nothing! But let the being of thy love, desire, and endeavors, be let out upon the transcendent Being. The creature hath its kind of being; but if it would be to us instead of God, it will be as nothing. The air hath its being, but we can not dwell in it, nor rest upon it to support us as the earth doth. The water hath its being, but it will not bear us if we would walk upon it. The name of the great Jehovah 66 is, "I AM." Try any creature in thy need, and it will say, as Jacob to Rachel, "Am I in God's stead, that hath withheld thy desire from thee?" Send to it and it will say as John the Baptist, that confessed, "I am not the Christ." Let none of all the affections of thy soul have so much life and being in them, as those that are exercised upon God. Worms and motes are not regarded in comparison with mountains; a drop is not regarded in comparison of the ocean. Let the being of God take up thy soul, and draw off thy observation from deluding vanities, as if there were no such things before thee. When thou rememberest that there is a God, kings and nobles, riches and honors, and all the world, should be forgotten in comparison of him; and thou shouldst live as if there were no such things, if God appear not to thee in them. See them as if thou didst not see them, as thou seest a candle before the sun; or a pile of grass or single dust, in comparison with the earth. Hear them as if thou didst not hear them; as thou hearest the leaves of the shaken tree, at the same time with a clap of thunder. As greatest things obscure the least, so let the being of the Infinite God so take up all the powers of thy soul, as if there were nothing else but he, when any thing would draw thee from him. Oh! if the being of this God were seen by thee, thy seducing friend would scarce be seen, thy tempting baits would scarce be seen, thy riches and honors would be forgotten; all things would be as nothing to thee in comparison of him. "Lo! God is here! let us adore, And own how dreadful is this place; And silent bow before his face; Who know his power, his grace who prove, JANUARY 17. LEIGHTON. When I kept silence, my bones waxed old, through my roaring all the day long. For day and night thine hand was heavy upon me: my moisture is turned into the drought of summer.—Psalm xxxii. 3, 4. WHILE the psalmist suppressed the ingenuous voice of confession, the continually increasing weight of his calamity extorted from him a voice of roaring: "While I would not speak as it became a guilty man, I was compelled to bellow even like a beast." Nevertheless this wild roaring did not move the Divine compassion, nor atone his displeasure. Hitherto that voice was wanting, to which the bowels of the Father always echo back, the voice of a son full of reverence, and ready to confess his errors; without which, cries and lamentations in misery are no more regarded in the sight of God, than the howling of dogs, according to that expression of Hosea, vii. 14, They have not cried to me with their heart, when they howled upon their beds. A dog howls when he is hungry, or when he is lashed; but from a son, when he is chastened, acknowledgments of his fault, and deprecations of his father's displeasure, are expected; and when the son thus acknowledges his offence, and entreats for pardon, it is the part of a compassionate father to forgive, and to spare. Nor do we indeed confess our offences to our Father, as if he were not perfectly acquainted with them, but we fly to him who requires we should repent, that he may not show us by punishment, those things which we shun showing to him by confession. "I confessed unto the Lord," says Augustine," to whom all the abyss of my sin and misery lay open: so that if I did not confess whatever was hidden in my heart, I should not hide myself from him, but him from me." Thy hand was heavy upon me. That hand, which, when pressing, is so heavy, when raising, is so sweet and powerful, Psalm xxxvii. 24, and when scattering its blessings, so full and so ample. He would not at first be humbled by the confession of his iniquity, and therefore he is humbled by the weight of the hand of God. Oh, powerful hand! beyond all comparison more grievous than any other hand to press down, and more powerful to raise up! He who supresses his sins without confessing them, Vulnus alit venis, et cæco carpitur igne : "Conceals an inward wound, and burns with secret fire." Under the appearance of sparing, he is indeed cruel to himself; when he has drunk down iniquity, and keeps it within, and it is not covered by the Divine forgiveness, it is like a poison which consumes the marrow in the midst of his bones, and dries up the vital moisture. It may perhaps occasion more present pain, to draw out the point of the weapon which sticks in the flesh; but to neglect it, will occasion greater danger and more future torment. Nor will the dart fall out by his running hither and thither, but on the contrary, as the poet expresses it with respect to the wounded deer, it fixes deeper and deeper. But the only healing herb that the sinner can find, is true repentance and humble confession; not that which acknowledges. sin in a few slight words, when it has hardly looked upon it and known it, but that which proceeds from a previous true and vivid compunction of soul, and is inseparably attended by renovation and purity of heart and life; and so, as comprehending this, it is sometimes put for the whole of repentance. 1 John i. 9: If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. "At last I own it cannot be That I should fit myself for thee: "What shall I say thy grace to move? JANUARY 18. DAVENANT. That ye might walk worthy of the Lord.-Col. i. 10. To walk is an Hebrew phrase, often put in the Scriptures for beginning and keeping to a course of life: as to walk deceitfully, and with simplicity, in many passages of the Proverbs of Solomon; and to walk in the ways and in the statutes of God, as is frequent with David in the Psalms. So in the New Testament, to walk according to the flesh, and according to the Spirit, that is, to live and to converse. By this form of speaking, we are admonished that Christianity consists in a perpetual journey toward the celestial country, and that no one must halt by the way, but must perpetually walk and go forward. But how are we to walk? Worthy of the Lord. What these words mean we shall readily understand, if we compare them with similar forms of |