"Celestial light
Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers
Irradiate; there plant eyes, all mist from thence
Purge and disperse!"
MILTON.
The total renovation of the heart is evinced by susceptibility of conscience. This moral faculty, in an unregenerate state, is either perverted or hardened. In the former case, our obligations are not clearly discerned, or are easily dispensed with; in the latter, the most powerful appeals to love or fear are resisted. In the progress of sin to its most awful consummation, those gentle whispers which were at first noticed, and made the transgressor tremble till he sometimes let fall the forbidden fruit, are at length unheard. Every intimation is silenced by guilty merriment, which perhaps was at first forced, but soon becomes habitual. Where conscience is not lulled into total inaction, it is, in this state of character, violated with little remorse. The mind loses sight of the glory of God, its best regulating principle; it is alive to personal interests only, and discards every thing of a nobler nature. But, in the sincere and humble Christian, conscience is tender, easily offended with evil, and gradually approximating that state of susceptibly in respect to sin, in which it resembles a well-polished mirror, that shows the slightest particle of dust or damp upon its surface. Such a conscience is no less rigorous than it is tender, and repels temptation with persevering energy. It will hold no debate with the tempter; and so far from seeking to ascertain how far it may advance towards sinful compliances without contracting actual guilt, it will "abstain from all appearance of evil."
In stating that the heart is the seat of those principles and the source of that transformation of character which is comprehended in the term conversion, it is intended to express the permanent nature of the change. It is not an opinion or an emotions resembling the morning cloud and early dew that pass away, but an abiding and deep-wrought alteration. "He which hath begun a good work in you, will carry it on until the day of Christ Jesus;" in consequence of which, "the path of the just is as the shining light that shineth more and more unto the perfect day."
"That such improvements of character often have occurred, and are often taking place now, cannot be denied by any philosophic observer of human nature: to disregard them, or to neglect an investigation of their use, is to neglect one of the most interesting classes of facts observable amongst mankind. Who has not either heard of or witnessed the most extraordinary changes of conduct, produced through the apparent influence (to say the least) of religious motives? I say nothing here of the three thousand converted in one day at the feast of Pentecost--of the conversion of St. Paul and others mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles--because those are usually ascribed to the miraculous and extraordinary influences of the Holy Spirit in the apostolic times. But I may call your attention ttomatters of more recent occurrence. You have witnessed instances of men running eagerly the career of folly and dissipation, who have been suddenly arrested, and changed from 'lovers of pleasure' to 'lovers of God.' You have known others who have devoted themselves early to the military profession, who literally knew no fear, who have spent their lives in the pursuit of glory, who have approached the verge of life full of scars and full of honours, still panting after 'glory, honour, immortality,' but thinking nothing of 'eternal life;' till, touched by an irresistible hand, they have been transformed from good soldiers to 'good soldiers of Jesus Christ,' have buckled on 'the armour of God,' 'fought the good fight of faith,' and following 'the Captain of their salvation,' have obtained 'the victory,' and been rewarded with unfading laurels. Others again, you have known, who have been strong and high-minded, professing never to be subdued but by the force of argument, and dexterously evading an argument when it was forcible, if it were calculated to expose the sophistry of 'free-thinking,' (as it is called,) or to exhibit the reasonableness and advantages of being pious; you have seen them increase in the dexterity of unbelief, and in callousness to moral impression, year after year,
'Gleaning the blunted shafts that have recoil'd,
Aiming them at the shield of truth again;'
and when a band of them has gone to church for the purpose of quizzing, or of staring out of countenance some preacher of rather more than usual energy and zeal, have known one of this band pierced by 'a dart from the archer,' convinced that religion is 'the one thing needful,' and though he came 'to scoff, remaining to pray.'" [[47]]
II. The second observable circumstance in the inspired account of Lydia's conversion is, its accomplishment by divine agency. It is stated that the LORD opened her heart. The effect is not ascribed to the apostle Paul, or his illustrious coadjutors in the Christian ministry. They might speak with the tongue of angels, and hum with the zeal of seraphs; to them might be given in trust "the everlasting Gospel," which, like the apocalyptic angel, they were carrying through "the midst of heaven" to the inhabitants of the earth, "to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people;" they might indeed possess the power not only of placing facts in the clearest light, or urging arguments in the most forcible manner, but even of working miracles; still they could not "open the heart." Indefatigable as they were in their labours, they could not command success. At this precise point human instrumentality ceases, and divine agency commences.
It is by no means an unfrequent effect of ministerial fidelity, to confirm the native aversion of the impenitent to the doctrines of Christ. Pride resists conviction, and fosters prejudice; and however unanswerable the statements, or fervent the appeals which may be addressed to them, the mind still remains unsubdued, the heart is still unopened. It requires the interposal of a mightier power than either reason, remonstrance, or miracle, to accomplish this wonderful transformation of character. Hosts of apostles and legions of angels would be incompetent by their own unaided exertions, to do "any thing as of themselves;" to give light to one blind eye, or to rectify one prejudiced heart.
Human agency, then, cannot be of itself effectual. It is the Lord who opens the ear, the eye, the conscience, the understanding, and the heart. The weapons of that spiritual warfare, in which Christian ministers are engaged, can alone "pull down strong holds, cast down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God," and "bring into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ," being "mighty through God." What would the weapon accomplish, if the hand of Almighty power were not to grasp and wield it? The experience of modern preachers, no doubt, resembles that of their apostolic predecessors in the same field of holy labour. When stout-hearted sinners have been attacked by all the force of argument, all the power of eloquence, all the fire of zeal, all the holy violence of appeal, all the tenderness of tears, and all the terrors of denunciation--and when it might have been expected that a heart of marble thus smitten must yield and break, and yet no emotion, at least no repentance, no relinquishment of sin, and no obedience to Christ has resulted--how often have they retired exclaiming, "O the impotence of human instrumentality!" But when returning to their work, desponding or deeply apprehensive, "going forth weeping, bearing precious seed," they have at length seen the rebel struck, and in a moment abashed, humbled, penitent--melted at a word--his prejudices dashed to the ground, like Lucifer from heaven--his heart opened, like that of Lydia, and the bitter stream of his enmity turned into the sweetness of Christian love--They have paused--inquired--wondered--beheld the "excellency of the power," which was "not of man, but of God;" and have retired exclaiming, "O the omnipotence of divine grace!"