the fragments of the chains are upon him still.  Though the love of God is the predominant principle within him, yet the lusts and propensities of the old nature continually start up like devils, and tug at the spirit, to drag it down to its old bondage.  But that man who attempts to overcome sin, without first crying, “Create within me a clean heart, O God,” feels still more deeply that sin is spiritual slavery.  When he comes to know sin in reference to the obligation to be perfectly holy, it is with vividness and hopelessness.  He sees distinctly that he ought to be a perfectly good being instantaneously.  This point is clear.  But instead of looking up to the hills whence cometh his help, he begins, in a cold legal and loveless temper, to draw upon his own resources.  The first step is to regulate his external conduct by the Divine law.  He tries to put a bridle upon his tongue, and to walk carefully before his fellow-men.  He fails to do even this small outside thing, and is filled with discouragement and despondency.

But the sense of duty reaches beyond the external conduct, and the law of God pierces like the two-edged sword of an executioner, and discerns the thoughts and motives of the heart.  Sin begins to be seen in its relation to the inner man, and he attempts again to reform and change the feelings and affections of his soul.  He strives to wring the gall of bitterness out of his own heart, with his own hands.  But he fails utterly.  As he resolves, and breaks his resolutions; as he finds evil thoughts and feelings continually coming up from the deep places of his heart; he discovers his spiritual impotence,—­his lack of control over what is deepest, most intimate, and most fundamental in his own character,—­and cries out:  “I am a slave, I am a slave to myself.”

If then, you would know from immediate consciousness that “whosoever committeth sin is the slave of sin,” simply view sin in the light of that obligation to be perfectly pure and holy which necessarily, and forever, rests upon a responsible being.  If you would know that spiritual slavery is no extravagant and unmeaning phrase, but denotes a most real and helpless bondage, endeavor to get entirely rid of sin, and to be perfect as the spirits of just men made perfect.

II.  Sin is spiritual slavery, if viewed in reference to the aspirations of the human soul.

Theology makes a distinction between common and special grace,—­between those ordinary influences of the Divine Spirit which rouse the conscience, and awaken some transient aspirations after religion, and those extraordinary influences which actually renew the heart and will.  In speaking, then, of the aspirations of the human soul, reference is had to all those serious impressions, and those painful anxieties concerning salvation, which require to be followed up by a yet mightier power from God, to prevent their being entirely suppressed again, as they are in a