hom, then,
can such an one go but unto Him? Suppose the religious anxiety arises
from a sense of the perishing nature of earthly objects, and the soul
feels as if all the foundation and fabric of its hope and comfort were
rocking into irretrievable ruin. God is the only Being who can help in
this crisis. In either or in any case,--be it the anxiety of the
unforgiven, or of the child of God,--whatever be the species of mental
sorrow, the human soul is by its very circumstances driven to its Maker,
or else driven to destruction.

What more reasonable course, therefore, than to conform to the
necessities of our condition. The principal part of wisdom is to take
things as they are, and act accordingly. Are we, then, sinners, and in
fear for the final result of our life? Though it may seem to us like
running into fire, we must nevertheless betake ourselves first and
immediately to that Being who hates and punishes sin. Though we see
nothing but condemnation and displeasure in those holy eyes, we must
nevertheless approach them _just and simply as we are_. We must say with
king David in a similar case, when he had incurred the displeasure of
God: "I am in a great strait; [yet] let me fall into the hand of the
Lord, for very great are his mercies" (1 Chron. xx. 13). We must suffer
the intolerable brightness to blind and blast us in our guiltiness, and
let there be an actual contact between the sin of our soul and the
holiness of our God. If we thus proceed, in accordance with the facts of
our case and our position, we shall meet with a great and joyful
surprise. Flinging ourselves helpless, and despairing of all other
help,--_rashly_, as it will seem to us, flinging ourselves off from the
position where we now are, and upon which we must inevitably perish, we
shall find ourselves, to our surprise and unspeakable joy, caught in
everlasting, paternal arms. He who loses his life,--he who _dares_ to
lose his life,--shall find it.

2. Secondly: In all our religious anxiety, we should _make a full and
plain statement of everything to God_. God loves to hear the details of
our sin, and our woe. The soul that pours itself out as water will find
that it is not like water spilt upon the ground, which cannot be gathered
up again. Even when the story is one of shame and remorse, we find it to
be mental relief, patiently and without any reservation or palliation, to
expose the whole not only to our own eye but to that of our Judge. For,