humbled before God under a feeling sense of our own unworthiness.

The character of the Pharisee is sometimes applied by the world to those whose delight it is to follow Jesus in the way, who separate themselves from every pursuit inconsistent with their profession, and who endeavour to walk in the commandments and ordinances of the Lord. This charge, my beloved, cannot be just, as every true Christian in his daily devotions, instead of trusting to his own righteousness, acknowledges himself a sinner; and as a sinner he supplicates God for pardon.

The Pharisee, who is embraced in our text, trusted in himself that he was righteous: recapitulated, in the presence of Jehovah, the peculiar features of his character; plead his conformity to the law; justified himself, and relied upon his own performances for the salvation of his soul. He thought himself prepared for heaven by virtue of his own works; he felt no need of a Saviour; wished for no interest in the atonement; there was neither confession of sin, nor supplication for pardon, in his address.

Until a man can plead a uniform obedience to the moral law; until he can say with truth, that he has never violated its injunctions, a dependence upon his own righteousness would certainly be the height of folly. One crime proved against an offender in a court of justice, will involve him in punishment; and it is upon the same principle that St. James observes to the professors of Christianity," Whosoever offendeth in one point is guilty of the whole law." To plead that law for our justification, which we know we have violated, would be contrary to the analogy of reason. The offender must put in another claim, provided he expects to escape punishment, and that claim must be made upon the mercy of his judge. As offenders against God, let us, therefore, acknowledge our sins, fly to a throne of grace, and, in the spirit and language of the publican, solicit forgiveness. There is pardon and forgiveness for all-" the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." Let no indi

'vidual leave the house of God this morning under an impression that salvation is not attainable. Let him not say that no atonement has been made for his sins, and that no Saviour has been provided for him. Christ Jesus is "the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world." He has said that "he will have all men to be saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth."

The moment that we assert the impossibility of salvavation to any of Adam's posterity, we charge the destruction of the sinner to the Almighty, and dispute the veracity of a merciful God. When Jehovah asserts, and swears to the truth of the assertion, "That he taketh no pleasure in the death of a sinner," it is the height of impiety, nay it is more than impious, to question the principle, or to doubt of its truth. It is the fulness of the offer of mercy, that inspires the mind of a preacher with affection for all men ; it warms his heart with love to God, and excites his compassion towards his fellow-creatures; it inspires his heart with a hope that his message will be attended to; that the overtures of God's compassion will obtain a grateful reception, and that the creatures for whom the Saviour died upon the cross will listen with gratitude, and take refuge in his bosom. See the Redeemer, as he is suspended upon the cross; behold him in the act of his sufferings on Calvary, and you must confess that "God is love." Hear him in his last agonies, praying for his murderers, "Father, forgive them," and can you doubt his tenderness for you? To resist such affection seems impossible. "How shall we escape," said Paul, "if we neglect so great salvation?" What apology can we offer for our sins? What plea can the transgressor make, to arrest the judgment threatened against iniquity? Yes, brethren, salvation may be obtained by all who will seek it. Such is the conviction of your preacher, and if it was my last breath, I should wish to die with the declaration of St. John upon my lips, "God is love."

MM

SERMON XI.

"When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee; and when through the rivers they shall not overflow thee."-ISAIAH, xliii. 2.

BEFORE I enter on the discussion of the subject before us, I should consider myself greatly delinquent in duty, were I not to mention the gratification I experience, in being restored, after a protracted and dangerous illness, to the bosom of my family and parishioners.

'The letters I received from some of you, during my absence, sensibly alleviated the distresses incident to a sick room, (and hushed into silence the gloomy emotions of my mind,) and entitles my kind correspondents to the tribute of my unfeigned gratitute and respect; and the affectionate welcome, with which I have been greeted since my return, have made an impression my mind which language is too feeble to express. May the Almighty impress my heart with a due sense of his goodness towards me, and render my labours a blessing to the people committed to my charge! May that same God, whose loving kindness cheered the chamber of disease in which I was confined with the light of his countenance, be with you and your families in every distress, and conduct you in safety to the mansions of eternal peace and joy!

Adversity is the season in which the Christian reflects, with peculiar satisfaction, upon the sacred promises of Je

hovah. In the hour of prosperity, the world and its fleeting enjoyments are too apt to attract his regard, and as long as the sun of human happiness reflects its cheering beams around him, the transitory pleasures of time captivate his attention, and chain his affections to the earth. But, when the heavy cloud of affliction gathers over his head, and the atmosphere in which he breathes is agitated by the thunders of distress, he seeks a refuge from the storm, and flees with rapidity to the bosom of his Redeemer for protection.

The life of men, like the face of nature, is infinitely variegated it experiences its vicissitudes and changes, and is visited with the genial rays of happiness, and the chilling blasts of affliction; it has its hours of sunshine, and partakes, also, of the friendly and prolific showers of distress. In the natural world these changes are indispensably necessary. Lightning purifies the air in which we breathe, and the rain, which in general accompanies it, brings the vegetable world to perfection. The sun, without the influence of showers, would scorch the face of nature with his rays; but, animated by their effects, the declining verdure of the fields is stopt; the drooping flowers receive fresh strength, and evidence, in their appearance, the benefits they have received. The lightning of affliction awakens man from the awful lethargy of sin and inconsideration it purifies his heart, and excites in his mind an obedience to his Creator. The showers of distress water the plant of Christianity in his bosom, and bring it to perfection. Those virtues which had declined under the influence of prosperity; those virtues which had been withered by the sun of uninterrupted enjoyment are revived; they expand their beauties, they bud and blossom like the rose.

That affliction is frequently productive of such beneficial effects, is a truth known to every observant mind; that affliction weans and disengages our affections from the world, is a truth established by experience upon a basis incontrovertible the salutary consequences, therefore, which are produced by distress, are evidences of the necessity of

human chastisement, and are undoubted proofs of the love of God. Yes, the reformation to which they give rise, plainly shows us that God is merciful in the midst of his judgments; that he pitieth those who love him, as a father pitieth his children; and that in those very moments in which we are passing through the waters of tribulation, and wading through the rivers of adversity, God himself is with us, supporting us in his own everlasting arms, and directing our attention to eternal things. Look at the patriarch Abraham, in that tremendous hour when he was commanded by the Almighty to offer up his beloved Isaac. In what a sea of difficulty must the solemn injunction have involved him! with what vehemence must the storm have beaten upon his aged head! To sacrifice the son of his hope; to deprive his child of his existence; a son whom he had so often embraced in his arms, and cherished in his bosom! Could human nature, unassisted, have yielded an assent? Could the rebellious heart of man have acquiesced in the awful requisition? To what power could he have been indebted for his resignation but to the power of God? He recollected those innumerable instances of divine love which he had received at the hands of the Almighty, and in the hour of his trial he remembered past mercies. The waves of tribulation raged awfully around him, but he beheld with the eye of faith a guardian Jehovah conducting the storm, and his ears were saluted with this benevolent assurance of the divine protection: "When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee; and when through the rivers they shall not overflow thee." Animated with that confidence with which a belief in the promises of God inspired his mind, he ascended Mount Moriah, and prepared his important sacrifice; the wood was laid upon the altar, and the sacred victim was bound. Isaac was, at that moment, dead, to the natural reason of his father; lightnings were flashing around the aged believer, and clouds and thick darkness hovered over him; the knife was drawn from its sheath, and the trembling arm of Abraham was outstretched. At that moment, when deliverance appear