November 26

How much depends upon the decision! It involves the glory of God. For we cannot praise him for doing what we think he has not done, or conferring what we think he has not conferred. We may bless him for the exercise of his patience, and for favouring us with space for repentance, and the means of grace; but this is not the glowing gratitude of the man who can say, "Thou hast wrought all our works in us." It also must affect our own comfort; according to the words of the Apostle; "Let every man prove his own work, and then shall he have rejoicing in himself alone, and not in another." The joy does not arise from the consciousness of his being the author of the work, but the subject of it: it is his "own work," not as it is wrought by him, but in him. And how delightful, how animating must the persuasion of this Divine reality prove! And what may we not expect from the experience of it! "Now he that hath wrought us for the self-same thing is God, who hath also given unto us the earnest of the Spirit."

The decision is not more important than it is possible. We are commanded to seek it. We are provided with all the means and assistances essential to the attainment. The very anxiety to determine is a token for good; and is here made by our Lord himself to characterize the subject: "He that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God."

NOVEMBER 26.—"I shall be satisfied."—Psalms 17:15.

THE Lord's people are not strangers to satisfaction now. We read of their being satisfied early with his favour; satisfied with his goodness; abundantly satisfied with the fatness of his house. But this is true only in degree: that is, they are satisfied, compared with what others feel, and with what they themselves once felt. They have found the supreme good, and they desire nothing beyond it—But they desire more of it—They long to know their Lord and Saviour more clearly, to resemble him more fully, to enjoy him more entirely. David therefore speaks of his satisfaction as future; and not only mentions the source of it; "I will behold thy face in righteousness;" but fixes the period: "I shall be satisfied, when I awake with thy likeness."

Here we see, shall I say—the insatiable ambition religion inspires. What an enlargedness of views and feelings do the subjects of Divine grace experience! so that they not only pass by, as beneath their attention, what mortals idolize, but soar beyond all that God himself has done for them here, content with nothing short of his full vision and likeness in heaven; keeping on the wing, and continuing all manner of search, till they reach a rest and a prize so distant and so infinite! And we have witnessed this grandeur and elevation of soul, even in the humblest walks of pious life. The rude mechanic, and the illiterate ploughman, though incapable of constructing the poetry, have felt all the sentiment of the poet—

"He by himself hath sworn, I on his oath depend; I shall, on eagle wings upborne, To heaven ascend: I shall behold his face, I shall his power adore; And sing the wonders of his love, For evermore" 24*

How mean-spirited are the aims and taste of the worldly hero and philosopher, compared with this!

Here we behold the excellency of the soul. It is the prerogative of man only to be capable of such sublime satisfaction. But he was made for it; and his destination explains the enigma he now presents. Detached from this prospect, his greatness would be inexplicable. He would seem a vessel freighted at an incalculable expense, for an important enterprise, and as if designed to sail an immense voyage, only to cruise a few leagues and a few days, and then founder and be lost. Other creatures have a good suited to their nature, and they partake of it, and look no further, but are satisfied. Is man satisfied? He has faculties which carry him beyond the limits of his condition. He has an imagination which nothing can realize. He feels desires and expectations which nothing fulfils. He is struck with novelty, and pleased with diversions; but these, after a while, lose their charm; and by the time he has reached sixty or seventy, he seems to have run his round, and feels an ennui irksome and intolerable, unless he is animated by the spirit of our text. This would explain, and relieve, and enliven all, by showing him that the present is only the threshold of existence; that he is now only in a state of instruction and discipline; that nothing is designed to detain him here; that this is only a passage to the home of his heart and his portion for ever.

But what a view does it give us of his blessedness, that it can, that it will satisfy every longing of the soul itself! Here two things will serve additionally to enhance its greatness. Our capacities will be amazingly enlarged hereafter to what they now are. Men who have put away childish things require far more to satisfy them than is necessary for infants. We should think highly of any thing that would satisfy such minds as Newton's and Bacon's. But the least in the kingdom of heaven will be greater than they. Then we must think of the duration of the pleasure. Many things will satisfy for a while; but here are thousands of ages to be provided for. What discoveries and employments, what acquisitions and enjoyments must those be, which will yield undeclining satisfaction for ever and ever!

What do you think of this? Is not such a prospect inviting? Does any thing here satiate the hunger and thirst of the mind? Do you not feel vanity in every success, as well as vexation of spirit in every disappointment? Yet this is your best condition—It is all the happiness you will know if you die out of Christ. You will then awake; but it will be to know the reality of the blessedness of which we speak—to know that you have lost it—lost it for ever—and lost it for nothing. You will therefore awake to everlasting shame and contempt.

But as for you, ye heirs of glory, turn the prospect of this satisfaction to your advantage. For which purpose—First, make it sure. Secondly, keep it clear. Thirdly, bring it near. Fourthly, use it daily. Carry it into your religious duties; it will enliven you. Carry it into your trials; it will sustain you. Carry it into the valley of the shadow of death; it will comfort you. A notion formerly prevailed, that if a man travelled with a myrtle wand in his hand, he would feel no fainting or weariness. Here is the reality