VII.

GOD'S LOVE; THE CHIEF RESTRAINT FROM SIN, AND RESOURCE IN SORROW.

GOD IS LOVE.-1 John iv. 16.

It was a saying of Plato, that "the soul is mere darkness, till it is illuminated with the knowledge of God." What Plato said of the soul is true of everything. Every thing is dark, till the light of God's perfection shines upon it. That "God is love," is the great central truth, that gives brightness to every other truth. Not only the moral system, but nature, and the science of nature, would be dark without that truth. I am persuaded it might be shown, that it is the great essential principle, which lies at the foundation of all interesting knowledge. It may not be always distinctly observed by the philosopher; but how could he proceed in those investigations that are leading him through all the labyrinths of nature, if it were not for the conviction secretly working within him, that all is right, that all is well! How could he have the heart to pursue his way, as he is penetrating into the mysteries, whether of rolling worlds or of vegetating atoms, if he felt that the system he was exploring, is a system of boundless malevolence! He would stand aghast and powerless, at that thought. It would spread a shadow, darker than universal eclipse, over the splendour of heaven. It would endow

every particle of earth with a principle of malignity, too awful for the hardiest philosophic scrutiny!

The Scriptures assign the same pre-eminence to the doctrine of divine goodness, which it holds in nature and philosophy. It is never said, in Scripture, that God is greatness, or power, or knowledge; but with a comprehensive and affecting emphasis, it is written that GOD IS LOVE; not that he is lovely, not that he is good, not that he is benevolent, merely-that would be too abstract for the great, vital, life-giving truthbut it is written, I repeat, that GOD IS LOVE!

And it is not of this truth as an abstract truth, my friends, that I propose now to speak. I wish to consider chiefly its applications; and especially its applications to two great conditions of human life; to the conditions of temptation, and sorrow. Affliction, we know, is sometimes addressed with worldly consolations; and sin is often assailed with denunciation and alarm; yet for both alike, and for all that makes up the mingled conflict and sorrow and hope of life, it seems to me that a deep and affectionate trust in the love of God, is the only powerful, sustaining, and controlling principle.

Let me say again, an affectionate trust; the faith, in other words, that works by love. It is not a cold, speculative, theological faith, that can prepare us to meet the discipline of life. It is the confidence of love. only that can carry us through. Love only can understand love. This only can enable us to say "we have known and believed the love that God hath to us." We profess to believe in God; to believe in the divine perfection. But I say, my brethren, that we do not properly know what we believe in, without love to it. Love only can understand love. Love only can give to faith in divine love, its proper character;

and especially that character of assurance and strength, which will enable us to meet, unshaken and unfaltering, the temptations and trials of life.

The principle that is to meet exigencies like these, that is to hold the long conflict with sin and sorrow, that is to sustain triumphantly the burthen of this mortal experience, must be intelligent, active, penetrating, and powerful. For, the problem of this life, my brethren, is not readily, nor easily to be solved. I know that there is light upon it; welcome light. But it cannot be carried into the mazes of human experience, it cannot illuminate what is dark and clear up what is difficult, without much reflection—and reflection upon what, if not upon the character of the Ordainer of this lot ?-without much reflection, I repeat, and care every way to the direction and posture of our own minds. It was not intended that our faith should be a passive principle; that all should be plain and easy to it; that moral light should fall upon our path, as clear, obvious and bright as sunshine. It pleases God to try the reliance of his earthly children. He would have their trust in him to be a nobler act than mere vision could be. He would have their faith grow and strengthen by severe exercise. He would say to them at last, not only " well done, good! —but, well done faithful !--enter ye into the joys of your Lord enter into joys made dear by sorrow, made bright by the darkness you have experienced, made noble and glorious by the trying of your faith which is more precious than of gold."

I said, that the problem of this life is not readily nor easily to be solved. I can conceive that this may be an unmeaning declaration, to those who have not thought much of life, to those whose lot has been easy, and whose minds have partaken of the easiness

of their lot. But there are those, to whom the visitation of life, to whom the visitation of thought and feeling, has been a different thing. I can believe that there are some to whom I speak, whose minds have been haunted from their very childhood, with that mournful and touching inquiry which we used to read in our early lessons, "Child of mortality, whence comest thou?" Man is, indeed, the child of a frail, changing, mortal lot; and yet the creature of an immortal hope. We are ready to ask such a being, at whom we must wonder as it seems to me, whence camest thou, and for what end? Didst thou come, frail being! from the source of strength and wisdom and goodness? Why then, so feeble, so unwise, so unworthy? Why art thou here, and such as thou art-so strong in grief, and so weak in fortitude! so boundless in aspiration, so poor in possession! Why art thou here?-with this strangely mingled being; so glad and so sorrowful; so earthly and so heavenly; so in love with life, and so weary of it; so eagerly clinging to life, and yet borne away by a sighing breath of the evening air! Whence, and wherefore, frail man! art thou such an one? All else is well; but with thee all is not well. The world is fair around thee; the bright and blessed sun shineth on thee; the green and flowery fields spread far, and cheer thine eye, and invite thy footstep; the groves are full of melody; ten thousand happy creatures range freely through all the paths of nature; but thou art not satisfied as they are; thou art not happy; thou art not provided for as they are: earth has no coverts for thy sheltering; thou must toil, thou must build houses, and gather defences for thy frailty; and in the sweat of thy brow, must thou eat thy bread. And when all is done, thou must die; and thou knowest it. Death, strange visitant, is ever

approaching to meet thee; death, dark gate of mystery, is ever the termination of thy path!

But, my brethren, is this all? To live, to toil, to struggle, to suffer, to sorrow, to die-is this all? No, it is not all; but it is God's love, and the revelation of God's love in the promise of immortality only, that can assure us that there is more. And so necessary do these seem to me, to bear up the thinking, feeling, suffering, hoping, inquiring mind; so necessary is it, that a voice of God should speak to the creatures of this earthly discipline; necessary, as that a parental voice, should be ready and near to hush the cry of infancy; that instead of stumbling at marvels and miracles, and interpositions and teachings, I confess I have sometimes wondered that there were not more of them. I have wondered that the manifestations of God, did not oftener appear in the blazing bush, and the cloudcapt mountain. I have wondered that the curtain of mystery, that hides the other world, were not sometimes lifted up; that the cherubim of mercy and of hope were not sometimes throned on the clouds of the eventide; that the bright and silent stars, did not sometimes break the deep stillness that reigns among them, with the scarcely fabled music of their spheres ; that the rich flood of morning light, as it bathes the earth in love, did not utter voices from its throne of heavenly splendour, to proclaim the goodness of God. No, I wonder not at marvels and miracles. That scene on the Mount of transfiguration-Moses and Elias talking with our Saviour-seems to me, so far from being strange and incredible, to meet a want of the mind; and I only wonder, if I may venture to say so, that it is not sometimes repeated.

Yet why should I say this? The love of God to us, is sure; and it is a sufficient assurance. Trust in him