giving iniquity, transgression, and sin. Only from God in Christ can we hear these words, "I, even I, am he that blotteth out all thine iniquities." Only of God in Christ can we read this, "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and cleanse us from all unrighteousness." Only from God in Christ can we hear these words, "Come, and let us reason together; though your sins be like crimson, they shall be like wool; and though they be red like scarlet, they shall be white as snow."

By faith, we believe that God is in nature controlling it, in law guarding it, in Christ reconciling us to himself, and blotting out all our trespasses. By faith we receive a vision of God's being, infinitely brighter and more glorious than any mirror of that Being that nature can furnish even to those that extort her deepest secrets, or that law can utter to those that listen with the holiest and the most attentive ear. In nature God is, but above us; in the law God is, but against us; in Christ God is, but Emmanuel, “God with us," our Father and our Friend.

But by faith we not only believe that God is, or God's being; but we believe, too, in God's bounty, "that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him."

We often misinterpret the word "reward." Reward is not the consequence of merit, but the sequence of work. We are not told here that we merit, and therefore get the reward; but that we work, and the reward is graciously Vouchsafed to us. Where the the word "reward" is used by the sacred penmen, work, but not merit, is always implied. "Now to him that worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt; for to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is accounted for righteousness." Thus speaking of reward, he teaches it may be given by grace, as well as by

work. We read in another passage, "The reward of inheritance;" but if it be inheritance, it cannot be deserved. "God said to Abraham, I am thy exceeding great reward." Now, says the apostle, "Abraham was justified, not by works, for then he would have had something to glory in, but was justified by faith." It is called "reward," to show that Christians do not enter heaven indolent men; but, on the other hand, it is said to be by grace, to show that they do not enter heaven as meriting or self-righteous men. They run, they strive, they fight, they labor; yet they get to heaven not because they do so, but through Christ; and yet without doing so, they do not enter into heaven at all. Two things are plain: unless we strive we shall not enter; unless we labor we shall not obtain; unless we sow we shall not reap; unless we fight we shall not be crowned. And yet, we are not crowned because we fight; we do not reap because we sow; we do not obtain because we labor; but we are saved by grace from the first pulse of life to the first enjoyment of glory. The reward, therefore, is by grace, and not of works. The devils believe; but, not having a promise of a reward, they tremble. We believe in God; but, having the sure promise of the reward of the inheritance, we rejoice in hope of it with joy unspeakable and full of glory. There may be much in the faith which thus believes in God, and believes, not that he shall be, but "that he is, a rewarder of them that diligently seek him," to perplex the Christian. David, who believed this very proposition, that God was "a rewarder of them that diligently seek him," was yet so perplexed when he saw the wicked prosper, and the godly suffer, that he exclaimed, "Surely in vain have I washed my hands in innocency. It is plain that God is not a moral governor; that God is not the rewarder of them that diligently seek him. I have suffered for my religion by the scorn of foes, because I hid it not;

but all this is entirely in vain, because God is not a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." But he waited; he went into the sanctuary; he listened to what was preached, and read there; and he discovered that, in spite of appearances, "God is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him;" for "They are brought into desolation, as in a moment; they are utterly consumed with terrors." They are placed in slippery places; and though for a moment the sun may seem to shine upon them, it is only that the darkness that speedily comes may seem the more terrible. We see, too, an ancient prophet who was perplexed and thought that he was cast off; but who, when he read and pondered God's word more, said, "Though the labor of the olive should fail, and the fields yield no meat, and there be no herds in the stall, and every thing should proclaim that God is not a rewarder of them that diligently seek him; yet will I rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of my salvation." If present appearances ever indicate to us, as they sometimes do, that God is not a rewarder of piety, let us recollect this is not the day of judgment, but the day of grace. God suffers the wicked occasionally to prosper. In God's dealings with us, he frequently afflicts, not to gratify revenge on his part; but for our good. And very often God's hand may be heavy, when God's heart overflows with love. Very often the blackest cloud, that seems to us to be a perfect eclipse, may conceal behind it, or may be itself the vehicle of, benedictions that are destined to burst upon us. You must not judge that God has ceased to be, and to be a rewarder of them that seek him; because present appearances are not what we think they should be. God deals on a large scale. He arranges things for great, magnificent, and worthy issues; and often it is necessary that his people should suffer for a season, before they rejoice and be exceeding glad with their great reward in heaven. Yet a Christian's most afflicted

hours are often his sweetest and most blessed. The daytime with all its splendor has but one sun; but when the sun sets, and the night comes, the whole sky sparkles and glows with innumerable stars. A Christian's daytime has but one sun; but a Christian's time of sadness, depression, and affliction, often reveals to him glories in the height and blessings at his feet, that he never conceived, still less calculated upon; and, at all events, whatever be our present state, patient continuance in well-doing is followed by glory; and we who are believers may yet say, "Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day; and not to me only, but unto them also that love his appearing." But rich, or poor, obscure or renowned, Jew or Gentile, Greek or barbarian, bond or free, God is - where we do not see him; faith implies the unseen, or it is not faith; God is, even when we do not see, even when we see the contraryfaith still believes "that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." And when perplexed by the inexplicable opposition to this by occurrences that seem utterly to frustrate it, the Christian falls back on what the Lord said, "What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter."

Let us look at the way in which this faith is explained "they that come to him." The Christian is a person that 66 comes to God," he is a person "that diligently seeks him." What does this imply? When we read that one comes to God, we see phraseology borrowed from the ancient temple service. The Jew, before he could present his sacrifice, had to come to the temple physically. He must come from a distance to the mercy-seat, the glory between the cherubim, the high-priest, and the ever present God. The phraseology of the New Testament is in this borrowed from the ancient ritual of Levi; and hence

the Christian who believes in God is said to "come" to him.

The word " come," implies that we are by nature at a distance from God. We are described by the apostle as "far off" from God: by nature it is too true we are not near to God. Sin by its projectile force has cast us out from the presence of God. In this distant position, we are not only far from God, but we are disinclined to go to God. We are worse than far off; we are enmity and opposition to God. So strong is this enmity to God in the bosom of the most amiable, the most gentle, the most courteous and accomplished by nature, that it needs Omnipotence to overcome it; for "no man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him." The lost sheep needs to be gone after by the shepherd, and, when the shepherd has found it, would you not suppose it would gratefully follow him till it reached the fold? Alas! before that lost sheep, after it has been found, can be brought back to the fold, it must be put upon the shepherd's shoulder, and carried home. We need not only to be discovered, detected in our hiding, to be found by the Shepherd who first seeks us; but in every step and movement of our journey forward, to be carried on the shoulder of him that has discovered us. In other words, we need not only omnipresent love to search for us in our hiding; but we need omnipotent power to carry us home, before we can reach the fold. A Christian who believed, who was converted, thirty years ago, needs as much grace to keep him right this year, as he needed to keep him right thirty years

ago.

We need grace to put us in the right way, and we need no less the same grace to keep us there. The impression, and the semiatheistic notion, of some is, that God formed the world, gave it a projectile impulse, and that, from the