he a foundling; his parentage may be altogether unknown; but liberty is his

inalienable birthright. Black may be his skin; he may live uneducated and

untaught; he may be poor as poverty itself; he may never have a foot of

land to call his own; he may scarce have a particle of clothing, save a few

rags to cover him; but, poor as he is, nature has fashioned him for freedomhe

has a right to be free, and if he has not liberty, it is his birthright, and he

ought not to be content until he wins it.

Liberty is the heirloom of all the sons and daughters of Adam. But where

do you find liberty unaccompanied by religion? True it is that all men have

a right to liberty, but it is equally true that you do not meet it in any

country save where you find the Spirit of the Lord. “Where the Spirit of

the Lord is, there is liberty.” Thank God, this is a free country. This is a

land where I can breathe the air and say it is untainted by the groan of a

single slave; my lungs receive it, and I know there has never been mingled

with its vapours the tear of a single slave woman shed over her child which

has been sold from her. This land is the home of liberty. But why is it so? I

take it, it is not so much because of our institutions as because the Spirit of

the Lord is here-the spirit of true and hearty religion. There was a time,

remember, when England was no more free than any other country, when

men could not speak their sentiments freely, when kings were despots,

when Parliaments were but a name. Who won our liberties for us? who

men like the great and glorious Cromwell, who would have liberty of

conscience, or die-men who, if they could not reach kings’ hearts, because

they were unsearchable in cunning, would strike kings low, rather than they

would be slaves. We owe our liberty to men of religion to men of the stern

Puritanical school-men who scorned to play the craven and yield their

principles at the command of man. And if we ever are to maintain our

liberty (as God grant we may) it shall be kept in England by religious

liberty- by religion. This Bible is the Magna Charta of old Britain; its

truths, its doctrines have snapped our fetters, and they never can be

rivetted on again, whilst men, with God’s Spirit in their hearts, go forth to

speak its truths. In no other land, save where the Bible is unclasped-in no

other realm, save where the gospel is preached, can you find liberty. Roam

through other countries, and you speak with bated breath; you are afraid;

you feel you are under an iron hand; the sword is above you; you are not

free. Why? Because you are under the tyranny engendered by a false

religion: you have not free Protestantism there, and it is not till

Protestantism comes that there can be freedom. It is where the Spirit of the

Lord is that there is liberty, and nowhere else. Men talk about being free:

they describe model governments, Platonic republics, or Owenite

paradises, but they are dreamy theorists; for there can be no freedom in the

world, save, “where the spirit of the Lord is.”

I have commenced with this idea, because I think worldly men ought to be

told that if religion does not save them, yet it has done much for them-that

the influence of religion has won them their liberties.

But the liberty of the text is no such freedom as this: it is an infinitely

greater and better one. Great as civil or religious liberty may be, the liberty

of my text transcendently exceeds. There is a liberty, dear friends, which

Christian men alone enjoy; for even in Great Britain there are men who

taste not the sweet air of liberty. There are some who are afraid to speak as

men, who have to cringe and fawn, and bow, and stoop, to any one; who

have no will of their own, no principles, no voice, no courage, and who

cannot stand erect in conscious independence. But he is the free man,

whom the truth makes free. He who has grace in his heart is free, he cares

for no one; he has the right upon his side; he has God within him-the in

dwelling Spirit of the Holy Ghost; he is a prince of the blood royal of

heaven; he is a noble, having the true patent of nobility; he is one of God’s

elect, distinguished, chosen children, and he is not the man to bend, or

meanly cringe. No!-sooner would he walk the burning furnace with

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego-sooner would he be cast into the lion’s

den with Daniel, than yield a point in principle. He is a free man. “where

the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty” in its fullest, highest and widest

sense. God give you friends, to have that “Spirit of the Lord;” for without

it, in a free country, ye may still be bondsmen; and where there are no serfs

in body, ye may be slaves in soul. The text speaks of Spiritual liberty; and

now I address the children of God. Spiritual liberty, brethren, you and I

enjoy if we have “the Spirit of the Lord” within us. What does this imply; It

implies that there was a time when we had not that Spiritual liberty-when

we were slaves. But a little while ago all of us who now are free in Christ

Jesus, were slaves of the devil: we were led captives at his will. We talked

of free-will, but free-will is a slave. We boasted that we could do what we

pleased; but oh! what a slavish and dreamy liberty we had. It was a fancied

freedom. We were slaves to our lusts and passions -slaves to sin; but now

we are freed from sin; we are delivered from our tyrant; a stronger than he

has cast out the strong man armed, and we are free.

Let us now examine a little more closely, in what our liberty consists.

from the Bondage of Sin. Ah! I know I shall speak feelingly to some of you

when I talk about the bondage of sin. You know what that misery means.

Of all bondage and slavery in this world, there is none more horrible than

the bondage of sin. Tell me of Israel in Egypt preparing their tale of bricks

unsupplied with straw; tell me of the negro beneath the lash of his cruel

task-master, and I confess it is a bondage fearful to be borne; but there is

one far worse-the bondage of a convinced sinner when he is brought to feel

the burden of his guilt; the bondage of a man when once his sins are baying

him, like hounds about a weary stag; the bondage of a man when the

burden of sin is on his shoulder-a burden too heavy for his soul to bear-a

burden which will sink him for ever in the depths of everlasting torment,

unless he doth escape from it. Methinks I see such a person. He hath never

a smile upon his face; dark clouds hath gathered on his brow; solemn and

serious he stands; his very words are sighs; his songs are groans; his smiles

are tears; and when he seems most happy, hot drops of grief roll in burning

showers, scalding furrows on his cheek. Ask him what he is, and he tells

you he is “a wretch undone.” Ask him how he is, and he confesses that he

is “misery incarnate.” Ask him what he shall be, and he says, “he shall be

lost in flames for ever, and there is no hope.” Behold him alone in his

retirement: when he lays his head on his pillow, up he starts again: at night

he dreams of torment, and by day he almost feels that of which he

dreamed. Such is the poor convinced sinner under bondage. Such have I

been in my days, and such have you been, friends. I speak to those who

understand it. You have passed through that gloomy Slough of Despond;

you have gone through that dark vale of penitence: you have been made to

drink the bitter cup of repentance: and I know you will say, “Amen” when

I declare that of all bondage this is the most painful-the bondage of the law,

the bondage of corruption. “O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver

me” from it? But the Christian is free; he can smile now, though he wept

before; he can rejoice now, whereas he lamented. “There is,” he says, “no

sin upon my conscience now, there is no crime upon my breast; I need not

walk through the earth fearful of every shadow, and afraid of every man I

meet, for; sin is washed away; my spirit is no more guilty; it is pure, it is

holy; there no longer resteth the frown of God upon me; but my Father

smiles: I see his eyes-they are glancing love: I hear his voice-it is full of

sweetness. I am forgiven, I am forgiven, I am forgiven! All hail, thou

breaker of fetters! glorious Jesus! Ah! that moment when first the bondage

passed away! Methinks I recollect it now. I saw Jesus on his cross before

me. I thought on him, and as I mused upon his death and sufferings,

methought I saw him cast a look on me; and when he gazed on me, I

looked at him, and said,

He said “come,” and I flew to him and clasped him, and when he let me go

again, I wondered where my burden was. It was gone! There, in the

sepulcher, it lay, and I felt light as air; like a winged sylph, I could fly over

mountains of trouble and despair; and oh! what liberty and joy I had! I

could leap with ecstasy for I had much forgiven and now I was freed from

sin.” Beloved, this is the first liberty of the children of God. “Where the

Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty “from the bondage of sin.

ever-that is the sad penalty of sin. It is no sweet thing to fear that if I died

now I might be in hell. It is no pleasant thought for me to stand here and

believe that if I dropped down I must sink into the arms of Satan and have

him for my tormentor. Why, sirs, it is a thought that would plague me; it is

a thought that would be the bitterest curse of my existence. I would fain be

dead and rotting in the tomb rather than walk the earth with the thought

that I might suffer such a penalty as this. There are some of you here who

know right well that if you die hell is your portion. You don’t attempt to

deny it, you believe the Bible, and there you read your doom, “He that

believeth not shall be damned.” You cannot put yourselves among

believers. You are still without Christ. Have any of you been brought into

such a condition that you believe yourself so full of sin that God could not

be just if he did not punish you? Have you not felt that you have so

rebelled against God by secret crimes, ay, I say, by secret crimes, and by

open transgression, that if he did not punish you he must cease to be God

and lay aside his scepter? And then you have trembled, and groaned, and

cried out under the fear of the penalty of sin. You thought when you

dreamed, that you saw that burning lake whose waves are fire, and whose

billows are ever blazing brimstone, and each day you walked the earth it

was with fear and dread lest the next step should let you into the pit which is

without a bottom. But Christian, Christian, you are free from the penalty of

sin. Do you know it? Can you recognize the fact? You are free at this

moment from the penalty of sin. Not only are you forgiven; but you never

can be punished on account of your sins however great and enormous they

may have been.

and he never can be punished on account of sin. Talk of the punishment of

a believer! there is not such a thing. The afflictions of this mortal life are

not punishments for sin to Christians, they are fatherly chastisements, and

not the punishments of a judge. For me there is no hell; let it smoke and

burn, if I am a believer I shall never have my portion there. For me there

are no eternal racks, no torments, for if I am justified, I cannot be

condemned. Jesus hath suffered the punishment in my stead, and God

would be unjust if he were to punish me again, for Christ has suffered

once, and satisfied justice for ever. When conscience tells me I am a sinner,

I tell conscience I stand in Christ’s place, and Christ stands in mine. True, I

am a sinner, but Christ died for sinners. True, I deserve punishment, but if

my ransom died, will God ask for the debt twice? Impossible! He has

cancelled it. There never was, and never shall be one believer in hell. We

are free from punishment, and we never need quake on account of it.

However horrible it may be-if it is eternal, as we know it is-it is nothing to

us, for we never can suffer it. Heaven shall open its pearly portals to admit

us; but hell’s iron gates are barred for ever against every believer. Glorious

liberty of the children of God!

say some of you will demur to it; nevertheless it is God’s truth, and if you

don’t like it, you must leave it! There is liberty from the guilt of sin. This is

the wonder of wonders. The Christian is positively not guilty any longer

the moment he believes. Now, if Her Majesty in her goodness spares a

murderer by giving him a free pardon, that man cannot be punished: but

still he will be a guilty man; she may give him a thousand pardons, and the

law cannot touch him, but still he will guilty; the crime will always be on

his head, and he will be branded as a murderer as long as he lives. But the

Christian is not only delivered from the bondage and from the punishment,

but he is positively absolved from the guilt. Now this is something at which

you will stand amazed. You say, “What? is a Christian no more a sinner in

God’s sight?” I answer, he is a sinner as considered in himself; but in the

person of Christ he is no more a sinner than the angel Gabriel; for snowy as

are angelic wings, and spotless as are cherubic robes, an angel cannot be

more pure than the poor blood-washed sinner when he is made whiter than

snow. Do you understand how it is that the very guilt of the sinner is taken

away? Here I stand to-day a guilty and condemned traitor, Christ comes

for my salvation, he bid me leave my cell, “I will stand where you are; I will

be your substitute; I will be the sinner; all your guilt is to be imputed to me;

I will die for it, I will suffer for it; I will have your sins.” Then stripping

himself of his robes, he says, “There, put them on; you shall be considered

as if you were Christ; you shall be the righteous one. I will take your place,

you take mine.” Then he casts around me a glorious robe of perfect

righteousness; and when I behold it, I exclaim, “Strangely, my soul, art

thou arrayed, with my elder brother’s garments on.” Jesus Christ’s crown

is on my head, his spotless robes are round my loins, and his golden sandles

are the shoes of my feet. And now is there any sin? The sin is on Christ; the

righteousness is on me. Ask for the sinner, Justice! Let the voice of Justice

cry, “Bring forth the sinner!” The sinner is brought. Who doth the

executioner lead forth? It is the incarnate Son of God. True, he did not

commit the sin; he was without fault; but it is imputed to him: he stands in

the sinner’s place. Now Justice cries, “Bring forth the righteous, the

perfectly righteous.” Whom do I see? Lo, the Church is brought, each

believer is brought. Justice says, “Are these perfectly righteous?” “Yes they

are. What Christ did is theirs, what they did is laid on Christ; his

righteousness is theirs; their sins are his.” I appeal to you, ye ungodly This

seems strange and startling, does it not? You have set it down to hyper-Calvinism,

and you laugh at it. Set it down for what you please, sirs. God

has set it up as his truth, he has made us righteous through the imputed

righteousness of Jesus Christ. And now, if I am a true believer, I stand here

freed from every sin. There is not a crime against me in the book of God, it

is blotted out for ever; it is cancelled; and not only can I never be punished,

but I have nothing to be punished for. Christ has atoned for my sins, and I

have received his righteousness, “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is

liberty.”

punishment of sin, is likewise delivered from the dominion of it. Every

living man before he is converted, is a slave to lust. Profane men glory in

free living and free thinking. They call this free living-a full glass, a

Bacchanalian revel, shouting wantonness, chambering.-Free living, sir! Let

the slave hold up his fetters and jingle them in my ears, and say, “This is

music, and I am free.” The man is a poor maniac. Let the man chained in

his cell, the madman of Bethlehem, tell me he is a king, and grin a horrible

smile; I say, “Ah, poor wretch, I know wherefore he counteth that he is a

king; he is demented, and is mad.” So it is with the worldling who says he

is free. Free sir! you are a slave. You think you are happy; but at night,

when you lay yourself upon your bed, how many times have you tossed

from side to side sleepless and ill at ease, and when you awaked have you

not said, “Ah! that yesterday-that yesterday!” And though you plunged into

another day of sin, that “yesterday,” like a hell-dog, barked at you, and

followed at your heels. You know it, sir,-sin is a bondage and a slavery.

And have you ever tried to get rid of that slavery? “Yes,” you say, “I

have.” But I will tell you what has been the end of it. When you have tried,

you have bound your fetters firmer than ever; you have rivetted your

chains. A sinner without grace attempting to reform himself is like Sisiphus

rolling the stone up hill, which always comes down with greater force. A

man without grace attempting to save himself, is engaged in as hopeless a

task as the daughters of Danaus, when they attempted to fill a vast vessel

with bottomless buckets. He has a bow without a string, a sword without a

blade a gun without powder. He needs strength. I grant you, he may

produce a hollow reformation; he may earth up the volcano, and sow

move the earth away, and the hot lava shall roll over all the fair flowers

which he had planted, and devastate both his works and his righteousness.

A sinner without grace is a slave: he cannot deliver himself from his sins.

But not so the Christian! Is he a slave to his sin? Is a true-born heir of God

a slave? Oh, no. He does not sin, because he is born of God; he does not

live in uncleanness, because he is an heir of immortality. Ye beggars of the

earth may stoop to deeds of wrong, but princes of heaven’s blood must

follow acts of right. Ye poor worldlings, mean and pitiful wretches in

God’s sight — ye may live in dishonesty and unrighteousness, but the heir

of heaven cannot; he loves his Lord; he is free from the power of sin; his

work is righteousness, and his end is everlasting life. We are free from the

dominion of sin.

acts of love-liberty from a slavish fear of law. Many people are honest

because they are afraid of the policeman. Many are sober because they are

afraid of the eye of the public. Many persons are seemingly religious

because of their neighbors. There is much virtue which is like the juice of

the grape-it has to be squeezed before you get it; it is not like the generous

drop of the honeycomb, distilling willingly and freely. I am bold to say, that

if a man be destitute of the grace of God, his works are only works of

slavery, he feels forced to do them. I know before I came into the liberty of

the children of God, if I went to God’s house, I went because I thought I

must do it; if I prayed, it was because I feared some misfortune would

happen in the day if I did not; if I ever thanked God for a mercy, it was

because I thought I should not get another if I were not thankful; if I

performed a righteous deed it was with the hope that very likely God

would reward me at last, and I should be winning some crown in heaven. A

poor slave, a mere Gibeonite, hewing wood and drawing water. If I could

have left off doing it, I should have loved to do so. If I could have had my

will, there would have been no chapel-going for me, no religion for me-I

would have lived in the world and followed the ways of Satan if I could

have done as I pleased. As for righteousness, it was slavery; sin would have

been my liberty. But now, Christian, what is your liberty? What makes you

come to the house of God to day?

What makes you bend your knee in prayer? It is because you like to talk

with your Father who seeth in secret. What is it that opens your purses,

and makes you give liberally? It is because you love the poor children of

God, and you feel, so much being given to you, that it is a privilege to give

something back to Christ. What is it that constrains you to live honestly,

righteously, and soberly; Is it the fear of the jail? No; you might pull the jail

down; you might annihilate the Convict settlements; you might hurl all

chains into the sea; and we should be just as holy as we are now. Some

people say, “Then, sir, you mean to say that Christians may live as they

like.” I wish they could, sir. If I could live as I liked, I would, always live

holily. If a Christian could live as he liked, he would always live as he

ought. It is a slavery to him to sin; righteousness is his delight. Oh! if I

could but live as I list, I would list to live as I ought. If I could but live as I

would I would live as God commands me. The greatest happiness of a

Christian is to be holy. It is no slavery to him. Put him where you will, he

will not sin, Expose him to any temptation, if it were not for that evil heart

still remaining, you would never find him sinning. Holiness is his pleasure;

sin is his slavery. Ah ye poor bondsmen who come to church and chapel

because ye must; ah! ye poor slavish moralists that are honest because of

the gyves, and sober because of the prison, ah! ye poor slaves! We are not

so; we are not under the law, but under grace. Call us Antinomians if you

will; we will even glory in the scandalous title; we are freed from the law,

but we are freed from it that we may obey it more than ever we did. The

true-born child of God serves his Master more than ever he did. As old

Erskine says:-

the Fear of Death. O death! how many a sweet cup hast thou made bitter.

O death! how many a revel hast thou broken up. O death! how many a

gluttonous banquet hast thou spoiled. O death! how many a sinful pleasure

hast thou turned into pain. Take ye, my friends, the telescope this morning,

and look through the vista of a few years, and what see you? Grim death in

the distance grasping his scythe. He is coming, coming, coming; and what

is behind him? Ay, that depends upon your own character. If ye are the

sons of God, there is the palm-branch; if ye are not, ye know what

followeth death-Hell follows him. O death! thy specter hath haunted many

a house where sin otherwise would have rioted O death! thy chilly hand

hath touched many a heart that was big with lust, and made it start

affrighted from its crime. Oh! how many men are slaves to the fear of

death. Half the people in the world are afraid to die. There are some

madmen who can march up to the cannon’s mouth, there are some fools

who rush with bloody hands before their Maker’s tribunal; but most men

fear to die. Who is the man that does not fear to die? I will tell you. The

man that is a believer. Fear to die! Thank God, I do not. The cholera may

come again next summer-I pray God it may not, but if it does, it matters

not to me: I will toil and visit the sick by night and by day, until I drop, and

if it takes me, sudden death is sudden glory. And so-with the weakest saint

in this hall; the prospect of dissolution does not make you tremble.

Sometimes you fear, but oftener you rejoice. You sit down calmly and

think of dying. What is death? It is a low porch through which you stoop

to enter heaven. What is life? It is a narrow screen that separates us from

glory, and death kindly removes it. I recollect a saying of a good old

woman, who said, “Afraid to die, sir! I have dipped my foot in Jordan

every morning before breakfast for the last fifty years, and do you think I

am afraid to die now?” Die! beloved: why we die hundreds of times, we

“die daily,” we die every morning, we die each night when we sleep, by

faith we die, and so dying will be old work when we come to it. We shall

say, “Ah, death! you and I have been old acquaintances; I have had thee in

my bedroom every night. I have talked with thee each day; I have had the

skull upon my dressing table, and I have ofttimes thought of thee. Death!

thou art come at last, but thou art a welcome guest- thou art an angel of

light, and the best friend I have had “Why, then, dread death since there is

no fear of God’s leaving you when you come to die! Here I must tell you

that anecdote of the good Welch lady, who, when she lay a-dying, was

visited by her minister. He said to her, “Sister are you sinking?” She

answered him not a word, but looked at him with an incredulous eye. He

repeated the question, “Sister, are you sinking?” She looked at him again,

as if she could not believe that he would ask such a question. At last, rising

a little in the bed, she said, “Sinking! Sinking! Did you ever know a sinner

thank God I am on the Rock of Ages, and there is no sinking there.” How

glorious to diet Oh, angels, come! Oh, cohorts of the Lord of hosts,

stretch, stretch your broad wings and lift us up from earth; O, winged

seraphs, bear us far above the reach of these inferior things; but till ye

come, I’ll sing,

And now, dear friends, I have shown you as briefly as I can the negative

side of this liberty. I have tried to tell you, as well as I could put it in a few

words, what we are freed from. But there are two sides to such questions

as this. There are some glorious things that we are free to. Not only are we

freed from sin in every sense from the law, and from the fear of death; but

we are free to do something. I shall not occupy many moments, but shall

just run over a few things we are free to; for, my brother Christians,

“Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty;” and that liberty gives us

certain rights and privileges.

In the first place, we are free to heaven’s charter. There is heaven’s

charter-the Magna Charta-the Bible; and, my brother, you are free to it.

There is a choice passage here: “When thou passest through the river I will

be with thee, and the floods shall not overflow thee;” thou art free to that.

Here is another: “Mountains may depart, and hills may be removed; but my

lovingkindness shall not depart:” you are free to that. Here is another

“Having loved his own, he loved them unto the end.” You are free to that.

“Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.” Here is a chapter

touching election: you are free to that if you are elect. Here is another,

speaking of the non-condemnation of the righteous, and their justification;

you are free to that. You are free to all that is in the Bible. Here is a never

failing treasure filled with boundless stores of grace. It is the bank of

heaven: you may draw from it as much as you please without let or

hindrance. Bring nothing with you, except faith. Bring as much faith as you

can get, and you are welcome to all that is in the Bible. There is not a

promise, not a word in it, that is not yours. In the depths of tribulation let it

comfort you. Mid waves of distress let it cheer you. When sorrows

surround thee, let it be thy helper. This is thy father’s love-token: let it

never be shut up and covered with dust. Thou art free to it-use, then, thy

freedom.

Next, recollect that thou art free to the throne of grace. It is the privilege

of Englishmen, that they can always send a petition to Parliament; and it is

the privilege of a believer, that he can always send a petition to the throne

of God. I am free to God’s throne. If I want to talk to God to-morrow

morning, I can. If to-night I wish to have conversation with my Master, I

can go to him. I have a right to go to his throne. It matters not how much I

may have sinned. I go and ask for pardon. It signifies nothing how poor I

am-I go and plead his promise that he will provide all things needful. I have

a right to go to his throne at all times-in midnight’s darkest hour, or in

noontide’s heat. Wherever I am; if fate command me to the utmost verge

of the wide earth, I have still constant admission to his throne. Use that

right, beloved-use that right. There is not one of you that lives up to his

privilege. Many a gentleman will live beyond his income, spending more

than he has coming in; but there is not a Christian that does that-I mean

that lives up to his spiritual income. Oh, no! you have an infinite income-an

income of promises-an income of grace; and no Christian ever lived up to

his income. Some people say, “If I had more money I should have a larger

house, and horses, and carriage, and so on.” Very well and good; but I

wish the Christian would do the same. I wish they would set up a larger

house, and do greater things for God; look more happy, and take those

tears away from their eyes.

With such stores in the bank, and so much in hand, that God gives you,

you have no right to be poor. Up! rejoice! rejoice! The Christian ought to

live up to his income, and not below it.

Then, if you have the “Spirit of the Lord,” dear friends, you have a right to

enter into the city. There are many of the freemen of the City of London

here, I dare say, and that is a great privilege, very likely. I am not a

freeman of London, but I am a freeman of a better city.

You have a right to the freedom of Zion’s city, and you do not exercise it.

I want to have a word with some of you. You are very good Christian

people, but you have never joined the church yet. You know it is quite

right, that he that believeth should be baptized; but I suppose you are afraid

of being drowned, for you never come. Then the Lord’s table is spread

once every month, and it is free to all God’s children, but you never

approach it. Why is that? It is your banquet. I do not think if I were an

alderman I should omit the city banquet; and being a Christian, I cannot

omit the Christian banquet; it is the banquet of the saints.

Some of you never come to the Lord’s table; you neglect his ordinances.

He says, “This do in remembrance of me.” You have obtained the freedom

of the city, but you won’t take it up. You have a right to enter in through

the gates into the city, but you stand outside. Come in brother; I will give

you my hand. Don’t remain outside the church any longer, for you have a

right to come in.

Then, to conclude, you have the freedom of Jerusalem, the mother of us

all. That is the best gift. We are free to heaven. When a Christian dies, he

knows the open sesame that can open the gates of heaven, he knows the

pass-word that can make the gates wide open fly; he has the white stone

whereby he shall be known as a ransomed one, and that shall pass him at

the barrier, he has the passport that shall let him into the dominions of

Jehovah; he has liberty to enter into heaven. Methinks I see you, ye

unconverted, in the land of shades, wandering up and down to find your

portion. Ye come to the porch of heaven. It is great and lofty. The gate

hath written o’er it, “The righteous only are admitted here.” As ye stand,

ye look for the porter. A tall archangel appeareth from above the gate, and

ye say, “Angel, let me in.” “Where is thy robe?” Thou searchest, and thou

hast none; thou hast only some few rags of thine own spinning, but no

wedding garment. “Let me in,” sayest thou, “for the fiends are after me to

drag me to yonder pit. Oh, let me in.” But with a quiet glance the angel

lifteth up his finger and saith. “Read up there;” and thou readest, “None but

the righteous enter here.” Then thou tremblest, thy knees knock together;

thy hands shake. Were thy bones of brass they might melt, and were thy

ribs of iron they might be dissolved Ah! there thou standest, shivering,

quaking, trembling; but not long, for a voice which frights thee from thy

feet and lays thee prostrate, cries, “Depart ye cursed into everlasting fire

prepared for the devil and his angels.” O dear hearers, shall that be your

portion? My friends as I love you,—I do this morning and hope I ever

shall,— shall this be your lot? Will you not have freedom to enter into the

city? Will you not seek that Spirit which giveth liberty? Ah! I know ye will

not have it if left to yourselves; some of you perhaps never will. O God,

grant that that member may be but few, but may the number of the saved

be great indeed!