THE NATURE AND NECESSITY OF GIVING THE HEART TO GOD, CONSIDERED AND ENFORCED.

[Preached at Nantwich, July 1, 1781.]

“My son, give me thine heart.” Prov. xxiii. 26.

It is a very strong proof of the depravity of human nature, that the most persuasive arguments, that revelation itself can furnish, are insufficient to induce the children of men to seek the things that belong to their everlasting peace. When the world calls, and secular interest prompts, they want no spur to their assiduity, no incentive to their zeal. The greatest toil is sustained with cheerfulness, difficulties apparently insuperable are surmounted with ease, and no degree of solicitude is deemed excessive, although in the ardor of pursuit, the only object that presents itself, is either the fascinating phantom of pleasure, the accursed lure of gold, or the bubble of worldly honor, which often is burst by the same uncertain breath that inflated it. But when God calls, either in the menacing language of incensed majesty, or in the attractive voice of parental mercy and pity; how slow to hear are the insensible creatures that are addressed! how unwilling to yield obedience to a call, that invites them to happiness, to heaven! Although the way into which they are solicited to enter, and walk, is the path of glory, honor, and immortality; yet how many objections are made, how many difficulties started, to impede or intimidate the heart in a pursuit of its best, its eternal interests! And, although present peace, as an earnest of permanent bliss in reversion; a sense of the divine favor, as a pledge of one day entering his kingdom; all the unsearchable riches of grace, and all the inexhaustible treasures of glory, are the substantial blessings held forth to sinners in the gospel of the blessed God; yet, how strangely is all this profusion of grace and goodness overlooked or contemned, even by those who are most interested in it! In the eyes of multitudes, worldly vanities possess more intrinsic charms than the eternal realities of the invisible world; He, who is “altogether lovely,” has no form or comeliness, in the opinion of the gay, the proud, and the self-righteous; and all the glories of heaven itself are so depreciated in the estimate of deluded mortals, that, in their false balance, a feather outweighs a kingdom, and a never-dying soul is of less value than the bread that perisheth.

An infatuation of so gross and of so perilous a nature, can arise only from some dreadful evil latent in the innermost recesses of the mind. This evil is sin, which hath depraved the soul’s noblest faculties, and given it a corrupt bias, by which it is disinclined to that which is good, and precipitated to that which is evil. Otherwise, men would never act with such fatal inconsistency, as they appear universally to do, when the objects proposed to their choice are the temporary pleasures of sin on the one hand, and the unsearchable riches of Christ on the other. Were not something dreadfully amiss within, the human mind would not be so totally blind to its own favorite principle, self-interest, as to admit its weight, when worldly acquisitions are in view, and yet forget it, when even a vast eternity is at stake. What, but the utmost carnality and depravation of heart, can make men fly in their Maker’s face, or rush upon the thick bosses of his buckler, by trampling under foot, what it is their duty and happiness to observe and reverence! And what, but the very foolishness of folly, can prompt them to prefer the slavery of the devil to the liberty of the sons of God! Or what, but the most vitiated taste, can make them relish the foulest dregs of sensuality, and discover no thirst for those rivers of pleasure, that flow deep and pure at God’s right hand!

Whatever the Father of mercies enjoins, must be a transcript of his law,—holy, just, and good. His counsels are replete with wisdom, and are admirably directed to the great end of making us better and happier. His service is founded upon principles the most highly reasonable, and leads to bliss of the most permanent nature. When he commands, he consults our good; and when he threatens, no less than when he promises, his end is to save. When he demands any thing of us, he only asks his own; and acquiescence here is salvation. And what but the most perverse repugnancy to the divine will can ever prevent us from complying with proposals, that equally involve in them our own happiness and the glory of God? O the hardness of the heart of man, that can make him a foe to himself, and an enemy to his God! Can any demand, for instance, be couched in terms more reasonable or more captivating, than those in our text? whether we suppose them as the affectionate request of Solomon to his son, or, as the tender and just requisition of one greater than Solomon to the sons of men? Hath not God an indisputable right to our hearts? Is not his claim to them founded on reasons that derive their strength and cogency from the greatest and most gracious works of Jehovah? Ask creation; consult all the dispensations of providence; but especially that grand dispensation of grace and mercy in the gospel; and then say, who ought to have our hearts, but He, who made them, and bled for them? Oh! that when the important question is put, “Who amongst us will give God, the Creator, Preserver, and Redeemer of men his heart?” there may not be one negative voice in this assembly! And may he, who hath all power both in heaven and in earth, “who openeth and no man shutteth,” effectually conquer every prejudice against the truth, while I proceed to consider; First, What is implied in giving the heart to God; Secondly, The tempers which ought to actuate us in making the surrender; Thirdly, The necessity of doing this, principally arising from the natural state of the heart; Fourthly, The motives to induce us to comply with God’s reasonable demand.

I. What is implied in giving the heart to God? Now, in order to complete this important surrender, it is indispensably requisite, that unruly appetites should be subdued, and the most beloved lusts sacrificed;—the alienated affections restored to their original claimant, and set upon God as their supreme object,—and an outward evidence of the truth of this dedication be given, in an habitual consecration of our corporeal faculties, our time, health, families, fortune, &c. to the honor and service of the Lord.

1. It implies the conquest of passions, and the sacrifice of the most beloved lusts. These in the heart are like rebels in a state. They usurp the chief power; and, while they domineer, there “is confusion and every evil work.” Reason is subjected to the loose reins of impetuous passion. God, the rightful sovereign, is dethroned. His law is violated. His will despised. While Satan, that infernal usurper, gives laws to every faculty, and “leads the heart captive at his will.” And what renders this scene of anarchy and rebellion the more melancholy, is, that the heart naturally hugs its own chains, and delights to feed the vipers that spread poison and death through all its powers. From hence arises the cordial love of sin, and a delight in those sinful propensities, which lead to endless ruin. And from hence arises the difficulty of giving the heart to God: because it is requisite that every inordinate pursuit be checked, every tyrannical passion bridled, and every sin, whether gainful, or constitutional, or fashionable, be mortified, before the heart can be emancipated from its slavery. For, how can it be free, while the tyrant sin reigns in it? Let none, therefore, boast of liberty, until the predominant lusts that lead him captive are given up, and sacrificed at the foot of the cross. Neither let any suppose, unless they wish to flatter themselves to their ruin, that their hearts are right with God, so long as they harbour internal adversaries, which he hateth. As well might they attempt to reconcile light and darkness, Christ and Belial, together; or to make the liberty of a Briton consist with the thraldom of a galley slave.

And here it seems necessary to observe, that our renunciation of sin must extend not to gross indulgences merely, but to spiritual wickedness, to internal favorite lusts, to the secret working of which no eye is privy, but God’s and our own. Though the parting with them should exceed the pain that attends “the plucking out a right eye, or cutting off a right arm,” the one the most tender organ, and the other the most useful member in the human frame; yet they must be given up; and not some, but all. Thus it is written: “O Jerusalem, wash thine heart from wickedness, that thou mayest be saved! How long shall thy vain thoughts lodge within thee?” Jer. iv. 14. “Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.” Mark, viii. 34. No man, therefore, can be said to have given his heart to God, until he hath given up his sins, and until his heart hath been cleansed from the guilt, and rescued from the tyrannical sway of those vicious inclinations, by which he had been made the miserable dupe of Satan and the world.

It would incur equal danger and absurdity for any man to conclude that he is a partaker of the blessing recommended in our text, either because he may have outwardly reformed, or desisted from sordid and impious gratifications through accident. In the former case, the partial change is effected by a mere regard to reputation, without any real love of virtue, or hatred of sin; and thus a degree of outward reformation, where the heart is not renovated in its leading principles, may spring from pride, and perfectly consist with the inherency of every corruption, which self-complacency and formality can nurture. Or the apparent alteration may be the result of that pain of mind, which is often occasioned by embarrassed circumstances, a distempered constitution, or a sullied reputation; and is not seldom produced by some temporary pangs of legal remorse, or corrosions of natural conscience. When the hand of the Lord was stretched out against Pharaoh, he seemed to relent and repent. But no sooner were the desolating judgments removed, and the apprehension of present danger ceased, but the impious tyrant “hardened his heart,” and gave evident proof, that service arising from servile fear is transient and deceitful, and that the obedience of a slave and that of a son differ very materially in this, that the one is permanent and voluntary, the other temporary and compelled. Belshazzer was filled with horror, when he beheld the awful hand-writing that announced his approaching doom. Felix trembles, when Paul “reasons” before him “of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come.” And Herod “did many things” while he sat under the ministry of John the Baptist. But not one of these men trembled or acted to any saving purpose, because the secret attachment to the most abandoned lusts remained. Sin was too sweet in an adulterous heart to be given up for the awful warning of an apostle, or the intrepid reproof of the illustrious forerunner of the Son of God. So that many things may be done, and yet if one thing be omitted,—if the heart be not given to God—it annuls all the rest; and all the concessions and seeming remorse extorted by present sufferings, or the dread of future torments, are often as insincere as the reformation produced by them is superficial. Besides, let us be extremely cautious how we conclude, that either ourselves or others are safe, because a degree of outward decency or freedom from grosser impieties may have taken place; since it is very possible that one great evil may be exchanged for a greater, and the last state of some sinners may be worse than the first. Mat. xii. 43–45. A sepulchre, whited and ornamented to a high degree, may nevertheless be the seat of rottenness and putrefaction. So a reformed licentiate, where the renovation of the heart is wanting, has been often known to sink into the very dregs of formality and self-righteousness, and to turn out a virulent blasphemer of the most glorious and discriminating doctrines of the gospel. If the heart be not washed from the wickedness of domineering pride, worldly conformity, fear of man, self-conceit, and unbelief, to “wash the outside of the cup and platter,” will avail nothing. “Cleanse first that which is WITHIN,” is our Lord’s direction. Mat. xxiii. 26.

As to the other case alluded to above, it often happens that a degree of reformation may take place through accident, or the unavoidable course of nature. This happens either through old age, or those contingencies, which often suddenly deprive some, of the means of gratifying their lusts. When the vigor of constitution is abated by declining age, or ruined by a long series of debaucheries; when health sinks with the lapse of time, or fortunes are exhausted by long extravagance; the aged become chaste, and the young, sober, through necessity. But neither, in numerous instances, forsake their sins in reality. Their sins have only forsaken them. This would appear evident to a demonstration, were both only placed in the circumstances that once contributed fuel to their passions. Were only youth, health, or fortune, restored, the aged miser would again add his love of lewdness to that of money, and the enfeebled or impoverished rake return to all his juvenile voluptuousness, with greater ardor than ever. Through all the varying circumstances of life, the heart of an unconverted sinner is still the same, and the sinner himself would be the same, if no such variation occurred, by which his pursuits are circumscribed, or his line of sinning altered. But where the heart is really transformed, former lusts are hated; the remembrance of sin is grievous; the burden of it is intolerable; and a desire to mortify it is deeply rooted, and universal.. Pure principles are implanted. Noble passions predominate. Sublime desires and spiritual appetites attract the heart to God, and fix the conversation in heaven. From whence it arises, that to give the heart to God implies,

2. A restoration of the alienated affections to their original claimant, and a placing of them upon God as their supreme object.

The heart is the seat of the affections; and the principal of these is love. According to the nature of the object, or the degree with which some objects are pursued, this affection becomes either innocent or criminal, sordid or sublime. If sin in general be the object, love is then the most diabolical passion, and pollutes every other faculty of the mind. Before the fall, it was the glory and happiness of man to love God perfectly and incessantly. Since that melancholy event, it is his misfortune to be under the influence of a “carnal mind f????a sa?? that is enmity against God, and is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be.” Rom. viii. 7. Hence flows an innate propensity to love the world, and from the ignorance and pride of the heart to idolize self. This alienation of the affections is, in scripture, called adultery; and they who love the world rather than God, are branded, in the same unflattering, pages, with the odious epithet of “adulterers and adulteresses.” James, iv. 4. It matters not, what the thing is, to which we give a primary place in our affections; even though it may be a necessary, an useful, a lawful, or even an amiable object, yet if it be loved inordinately, or with a supreme affection, it instantly becomes an idol: insomuch that our Lord saith, “He that loveth father or mother, son or daughter, more than me, is not worthy of me.” Mat. x. 37. Things unlawful, or of moral turpitude, are not to be loved at all. And things lawful are only to be loved in a certain degree. It is not the love of these last that is sinful; but the excess or inordinacy of that love. In giving the heart to God, or restoring the idolatrous alienation of the affections to him, that is given back which was originally his property. He then possesses the supreme affection, delight, and homage of the heart;—is the centre of its wishes, and the spring of its comforts. This is called “yielding ourselves to the Lord.” 2 Chron. xxx. 8. And the grateful language of such a solemn surrender is, “Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside Thee?” Psal. lxxiii. 25.

Where the affections are thus gained over, the other sublime faculties follow of course. The contrariety of the will is broken, and made to bend in submission to the divine will. Reason resigns its pretensions to the sacred authority of revelation; and the intellectual powers are extricated from the teeming darkness of nature, and brought, by the irradiating spirit, into the bright regions of light and liberty. And the memory is so sanctified as to become the faithful repository of sacred truth. Conscience is reinstated in her viceregency in the soul; and being cleansed by the blood of Christ from the guilt and pollution of sin, establishes peace in the heart, and pours the balm of pardoning love into all its wounds. All the passions are made the willing captives of the prince of peace; and instead of rending the heart with their impetuous and clashing propensities, unite in forming concord and harmony there, by exerting their respective powers in subordination to the grace of God. Thus fear, joy, desire, hope, anger, sorrow, hatred, are no longer so many noxious springs fraught with impoisoned waters, but convey to the heart, in their respective streams, the health and purity which they have derived from the fountain of life. Those things are dreaded, which had been once pursued with eagerness. Indignation burns against once beloved idols; and affection fixes on objects, that had formerly been rejected with scorn and contempt. The heart weeps over what it once rejoiced in; and bleeds at the remembrance of those things, which, but lately, perhaps, were the spring of all its shallow and unholy mirth. Objects are now desired insatiably, for which the heart never before panted, and upon which the mind never bestowed one serious thought. Instead of living under the anguish of worldly disappointments, hope now plumes her golden wing, and stretches with a nobler flight towards the confines of a glorious eternity; leaves the sordid trash of earth below, and soars in joyful anticipation of heavenly realities. The slavish fear of the creature gives place to the filial fear of God; and he who was awed by the frown of a worm like himself, now reveres the great Omnipotent, who hath power to destroy both body and soul in hell. The love of the world is expelled by the love of Jesus; and the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of the eye, and the pride of life, all lose their charms, or rather appear infinitely odious, when compared with even the reproach of the cross, much more when contrasted with the happy prospect of a crown of glory. The “sorrow of the world, which worketh death,” is exchanged for that godly sorrow, which worketh repentance unto life; and “joy unspeakable and full of glory,” succeeds the bitterness of conviction of sin, and brings a foretaste of heaven. God, whom the heart once hated, and the sinner shunned, is contemplated in all his august and amiable perfections, with delight and wonder; while the humble believer, enraptured with a view of him as reconciled to him in the Son of his love, gives vent to the fulness of his heart in the most glowing effusions of gratitude and astonishment.

“—Thou my All!
My theme! my inspiration! and my crown!
My strength in age! My rise in low estate!
My soul’s ambition! pleasure! wealth! my world!
My light in darkness! and my life in death!
My boast thro’ time! bliss thro’ eternity!
Eternity, too short to speak thy praise,
Or fathom thy profound of love to man!
To man, of men the meanest, ev’n to me!
My sacrifice! My God!—What things are these!”

Young.

3. An outward evidence that the heart is given to God, appears in the habitual consecration of the corporeal faculties, of time, health, fortune, family, &c. to the honor of God.

As in every science some first rudiments or primary principles must precede the attainment of complete knowledge; and in every structure a foundation must be well chosen for the security of what is to rest upon it; so, in the great concerns of religion, some permanent principles must be rooted in the heart, before the sacred superstructure of holiness and righteousness can be reared in the life. Where the former are implanted, the latter will follow of course; as a good tree in a rich soil will necessarily produce good fruit. But this fertilization produced in the heart is the effect, not of natural goodness, but of efficacious grace. When, therefore, the citadel is stormed and taken, the outworks fall with it, in consequence. So that, as soon as the heart is given to God, outward fruits appear in the conversation; without which, nothing can be more fallacious or fatal than the most towering profession. And, therefore, in the clause that stands in immediate connexion with the text, it is added, “And let thine eyes observe my ways.” For, “if any man be in Christ he is a new creature; old things are passed away; behold all things are become new.” 2 Cor. v. 17. The conversation takes a new turn; and pure words and true, issue from that mouth which was once filled with malice, blasphemies, and uncleanness. The feet are swift to bear the renewed sinner to the house of God, which once carried him to the haunts of the profane. Health is no longer consumed in the service of sin; nor time wasted on the egregious follies of pleasure and dissipation. The body, once a co-partner with the soul in rebellion against God, is now the sacred temple of his in-dwelling Spirit; and all the members are now “yielded as servants to righteousness unto holiness.” Rom. vi. 19. And the principles, which lead to this universal dedication, are arguments of its genuineness, while they provide for its permanency: which reminds me of the second general head, under which I proposed considering,

II. The manner or temper, which should actuate us in making the surrender of all we have and are to the glory of God.

1. This great affair should be done solemnly. If reciprocal acts of covenant and amity among the children of men, require deliberation, and are executed in a manner the most serious and binding, where only temporal inheritances or transitory engagements are concerned; how much more deliberate and solemn should that act be, whereby the soul maintains an intercourse with the awful Majesty of Heaven, and soul and body, with their respective functions, are surrendered to the service of the Most High for ever! in which God is chosen as the soul’s portion, and every thing is to be sacrificed to his injunctions, or given up to his care and guardianship! O with what profound reverence and self-abnegation should we make the tender of our hearts to Him, when his majesty, or our vileness, is considered. “Commune with your own heart, therefore, and in your chamber,” about this solemn act, and “pay thy vows unto the Most High.” Count the cost of surrendering your heart to him; since, without due reflection, you may be disappointed and basely retract, when you hear that unless you deny yourself, and take up your cross, you cannot be his disciple.

2. No reserve must enter into any act of dedication to God; much less into that, by which we restore him his own property. He is a jealous God, and will have the whole heart or none. He cannot, he will not bear a rival. He must have the pre-eminence in the affections. A divided heart is his abomination. Remember how the Lord’s anger was kindled against Saul, because, when commanded to destroy the Amalekites, “he spared Agag and the best of the sheep, and all that was good, and would not utterly destroy them.” 1 Sam. xv. 9. And ponder well the case of the rich young man, in the gospel, who approached the Lord Jesus with a seeming desire to give him his heart, but “went away sorrowful,” when Jesus insisted on the sacrifice of his bosom sin, and recommended the utility of taking up the cross. It was upon that memorable occasion, that our Lord said, “A rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven,” Mat. xix. 23; that is, the difficulty of entering heaven is great to all who have riches, and rises to an impossibility, where they are trusted in, and idolized. And the case is the same in every circumstance, where the heart is divided between any thing and God. So that, if there be a competitor within, that shares your affections, so as to rob Jesus of his prerogative over them, be assured you are yet in “the gall of bitterness and in the bonds of iniquity.” And the idol, whether it be the love of pleasure, or profit, or honor, or self, must be pulled down, or it will dethrone Christ, and ruin your immortal souls.

3. The heart should be given up cheerfully. In every offering presented to God, it is required, that we should not “give grudgingly or of necessity; for God loveth a cheerful giver.” 2 Cor. ix. 7. This is a requisition more especially important, when the heart is the gift, and God the receiver. Why should we hesitate or grudge to give him his own? Instead, therefore, of entertaining one repining thought at the idea, we should rather rejoice that we have hearts to give the Lord, and that he is so condescending as to take them at our hands. Mark with what readiness and vivacity the sensualist and the pleasure-taker devote their time and affections to pursuits of the most trifling and sordid nature. These poor deluded idolizers of a perishing world, think no time too long, and no pains too great, though exhausted in a service that is perfect bondage. They want no arguments to enforce conformity to the world, neither is the smallest compulsion necessary to drive them to their pleasures. Self-gratification is a sufficient inducement. Earthly things have an irresistible attraction. The current of their affections carries them away with an impetuous tide; and they glide swiftly and cheerfully along, though the objects of their false felicity are empty and precarious as the bubble, and the deceitful stream is wafting them with a rapid but imperceptible course, to the gulf of ruin. And shall these infatuated triflers be such willing slaves of Satan, such cheerful devotees to folly? and we engage in the service of the blessed Jesus, with reluctance or reserve? Shall they give the world and its God their whole hearts? and we divide ours with Him, who made them and redeemed them? Shall they fly, when dissipation solicits, and amusements call? and shall we creep, when the God of love cries “Follow me?” Forbid it gratitude, devotion, and common sense! Rather may we say, “Thine we are, Lord, by ties the most sacred, and obligations the most binding, and thou shalt have our whole hearts; for, thou art worthy!” And, in order to prevail on you to do this, give me leave to urge those,III. Motives, which ought to prompt our compliance with the reasonable demand in the text. Now, these are founded upon the state of the human heart by nature—the many mercies we receive from God, the uncertainty of time, and the great danger of procrastination—and the nature of Him, who makes the demand.

1. If the heart were now in its primeval state of rectitude and purity, the requisitions of its attachment and obedience would be superfluous. But as it is very far gone from original righteousness, and estranged from its great original of blessedness and perfection; the effaced characters of holiness and purity must be restored by the agency of the Holy Ghost; and the foul stain of sin expunged by the blood of Jesus. Hence, the scriptures so strongly insist upon the necessity of “a new heart and a right spirit,” Psal. li. because the natural heart is “deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.” Jer. xvii. 9. And, as the same infallible authority declares, that “except a man be born again he cannot enter the kingdom of heaven,” John, iii. 3, see the important necessity of that great change, and of the act of voluntary surrender, by which it takes place. If you wish that obduracy, which steels them both against threatenings and promises, softened; and that corruption, which makes your hearts naturally the sink of sin, pardoned and subdued, you must give them to Jesus, for these great purposes. Fancy not that any power of the creature is sufficient to accomplish this. Sad experience may teach you the contrary. Therefore, until your heart be given to God, the fountain being evil, the streams must be so of course. So that, all your thoughts, words, and actions, like the foul exhalations that ascend from a stagnated and putrid lake, must partake of the polluted source, from whence they rise, and be infinitely odious in the sight of the Lord. And sooner shall God cease to be, or his word fail in its accomplishment, than any sinner, with an unchanged heart, shall enter his kingdom.

2. Consider the mercies of God. How great! how numerous! when traced from the moment of your birth, through the successive stages of life to the present hour; or contemplated in his glorious works, and most merciful dispensations! Divine mercy hath spared the life, which divine power first gave, and a long list of favors, as unmerited as they are numerous, hath swelled the account through every interval of your days. Fruitful seasons, exuberant plenty, outward peace, the possession of health, the light of yonder sun that cheers the world with his prolific beam, and the clouds that drop fatness on the earth, vallies standing thick with corn, and liberty, that crown of national privileges, are all mercies, that have a voice, would sinners but hear it, that cries, “Oh that men would therefore praise the Lord for his goodness, and declare the wonders that he doeth for the children of men!” Psal. cvii. 8. Reflect upon the mercies of redemption—upon the breadth, length, depth, and height of them, as they shine out in richest lustre in Jesus Christ; and say, Should you withhold your heart from the Father of these mercies? Because he is merciful, will you presume? And while he is dispensing his favors, will you rebel against him? Had not mercy interposed, your worthless heart had never been inquired after; and had God dealt with you as your sins deserved, you might have been at this moment beyond the reach of mercy for ever.

3. Know that another day may find you in eternity. And if the great work should not be done, who would be in your condition for ten thousand worlds? It is high time to awake out of sleep. You have, perhaps, sometimes seen and acknowledged the necessity of seeking the Lord. But, as if this were a kind of bondage in which you were to engage, or some grievous business you wished to postpone; you have been putting it off to some distant period, as if life were at your own disposal, or religion the last thing a man should think of. Or, you wished to give your heart to God; but a constant succession of snares and rivals hath to this day prevented. Oh that you may procrastinate and delay no longer! Lest, while you are asking leave of the world and your lusts to give your heart to God, death should strike the fatal blow, and transmit you to the eternal world, to lament for ever your having trifled with your immortal soul, your time, your conscience, and with God.

4. I come now to urge the last motive, taken from the nature of the person, who says, “My son, give me thine heart.” That person is God; the most high, and holy God; the Creator, Preserver, and Redeemer of men, who gave us a being, and, when in a state of apostacy, took our nature, and was manifest in the flesh, that he might save us from sin. The three persons in the Godhead, Father, Son, and Spirit, unite in the request; especially the second, who groaned beneath our weight of woes, and sunk under the burden of our imputed guilt; whose bitter passion bespoke the horrid nature of sin, and the greatness of redeeming love. It is Jesus, the chiefest among ten thousand, that asks your hearts, O sinners! They are the purchase of his blood; and can you deny him his own dear-bought property? See him in his bloody sweat, or view him bleeding and mangled on the cross, and then say, whether he must not have loved your hearts, when Gethsemane’s garden and Calvary’s mount have been witnesses to the intenseness of his desire to win them? Fancy that you were present at the tragical scene of his sufferings, and that you saw him this moment nailed to the accursed tree; and that, while in this state of ignominy and torture, you were accosted with the following address from his precious dying lips:—“Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? behold and see, if there was ever sorrow like unto my sorrow! Behold in my hands and feet the marks of my dying love; and see, there gushes forth a fountain in which the guilty may wash and be clean. While my temples stream with blood, they are disgraced with a crown of thorns that lacerate them, which I contentedly wear, that a diadem of glory may encircle your brow. My heart is big with sorrow, and upon my eye-lids is the shadow of death. My soul is transfixed with the arrows of Almighty vengeance, the poison whereof is the bitterest ingredient in my cup of sorrow. For your sins I suffer all this, and die to save you from death eternal. The last drop of my blood shall be shed to expiate your guilt, and the merit of it shall cleanse the earth, and perfume heaven. My dying breath shall be spent in prayer for the persons who brought me to this shame and pain; and I shall rejoice in this travail of my soul, if you look to me for salvation. I die to win your heart. Do not plant additional daggers in mine, or tear open my wounds afresh by denying my request. O, my son! give ME thine heart.”—Thus may we suppose the dying love of Jesus to address us. And who can withstand such philanthropy, or withhold his heart from a Redeemer, who asks it in agony and blood? A believer, contemplating his crucified Lord in such circumstances of love and sorrow, would say, with the poet,

“O may I breathe no longer than I breathe
My soul in praise to Him, who gave my soul,
And all her infinite of prospect fair,
Cut thro’ the shades of hell, Great Love, by thee!
Oh! most adorable! most unador’d!
Where shall that praise begin, which ne’er should end?”

And now, brethren, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and upon the authority of his sacred word, I beg leave to put the grand question; which I pray that every one of us may be able to answer in the affirmative, Have you given your hearts to God? I ask the question most solemnly, as one that must shortly meet you at the judgment-seat of Christ; where if either preacher or hearers appear without the blessing suggested in the text, it would be better we had never been born. Remember, as you will answer at the great and terrible day of the Lord, that I have this day begged you to give Christ your hearts. If you do, he will wash them in his blood; he will make them happy, and keep them so. But, if the world engross your affections, and sin be suffered to tyrannize in your heart, the consequence will be horrible beyond all conception. Will you, therefore, can you, dare you deny a request, that involves in it your eternal happiness or misery? May there not be one dissentient voice! But, with the most unanimous and solemn surrender, may all cry out, “Here are our hearts; blessed Jesus, take them, and seal them eternally thine.” Amen and Amen.