should accept as easily as they are lightly uttered, the casual off-hand apologies of his weak and wayward creatures. And is it not precisely because you do thus conceive of him, that you venture to trifle so recklessly with his authority, and to presume so confidently on his indulgence? You flatter yourselves that he will not severely visit your failings; and if he should chance to take offence for any reason at any neglect you seem to show, a little explanation will set all right. "You are exceeding sorry;" but you really meant no harm. He will make allowance for your infirmity, and accept, as a sufficient apology, the regret you feel for thus offending him.

Offending him! And who or what art thou, O sinner! worm of the earth, that thou shouldest stand on such a footing with thy God? Thinkest thou that thy sin, or thy sorrow either, can reach or affect Him, the King, dwelling in light inaccessible and full of glory, as if He were a man, dependent upon thee for his happiness or his honour? Alas! what presumption in us, sinful mortals, to conceive of the Holy One, or to treat with him-as we might conceive of, and treat with, a fellow-mortal whom we had happened to wrong or irritate! He is offended with us, we scarcely know, or care to ask, why-unreasonably, we are apt to think and somewhat capriciously; but a few words of concession, a few signs of self-abasement, will pacify his resentment, and win his toleration of our weakness! Even so an ignorant and wilful child misinterprets the reason of a father's just displeasure. He knows nothing of the parental authority, or of parental discipline. He sees only that his father is angry, and fondly hopes that a few expressions of regret and

a few tears of sorrow will coax and persuade him into easy and indulgent good-humour. And you, O sinner! will deal thus with God,-as a froward child with a doting parent! And when his voice is raised to forbid, and his arm to threaten, and his angel stands to oppose you-still, by humble apologies and professions of "exceeding sorrow," you will work upon his compassion, and win, if not his sanction, yet at least his tolerance; so that if you may not yield to him, he shall yield to you, and suffer you quietly to go your own way!

II. Nor in this kind of sorrow is there a just sense of sin. There cannot be; for a just sense of sin flows from a true fear of God. The feeling, accordingly, which such sorrow is apt to cherish, is that of regret as for a misfortune, not repentance as for a fault. There is a secret presumption that you are to be pitied rather than to be blamed; and instead of a profound sense of your guilt, and an acknowledgment of the heinousness of your offence and the justice of your condemnation, there is rather an impression that it would be an extreme measure of severity on the part of God, were he to withhold from you the indulgence you need. Deeper feelings, doubtless, of poignant grief and remorse may wring your hearts, as more generous and gracious thoughts of God, and of his holiness and love, occasionally visit your minds. Smitten with admiration, gratitude, and awe, you may have something like a real and longing wish that you could please God, and real and bitter disappointment because you cannot. But it is a calamity that distresses you, not a crime. It is your infirmity-your fate;

but still not your fault! There may be sorrow when you sin; but it is the sorrow, not of self-condemnation, but of self-justification. There is no conviction in it -no confession-no conversion-no forgiveness.

True sorrow for sin implies a recognition of the sovereignty of God-the sovereignty of his authority, and the sovereignty of his grace. Or, in other words, it implies your looking to the cross of Christ, and beholding there, as in a glass, the glory of God. Let the enlightening Spirit shine into your hearts, to give you the light of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ. Then, at last, feeling the extent and reasonableness of his righteous claims over you, and the deep demerit of your opposition to his will, you stand before him naked and without excuse; "every mouth stopped," and every one of you "brought in guilty" at his bar. "Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight: that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest" (Psalm li. 4).

Thus, as lost sinners, appropriating and apprehending the full and free forgiveness dispensed through the blood of Christ, and sealed by his Holy Spirit, you receive mercy at the hands of God, not as a kind of indulgence on which you may indefinitely presume, but as a special and signal act of grace. You feel that he sets you free, once for all, from all condemnation, and sends you forth as his redeemed and reconciled children; not to sin and be sorry, but to be ever sorrowing-so as to "sin no more" (John v. 14, and viii. 11).

IX.

HEROD AN EXAMPLE OF AN ALLEGED NECESSITY

OF SINNING.

"And the king was sorry; nevertheless for the oath's sake, and them which sat with him at meat, he commanded it to be given her ". MATT. xiv. 9.

"And the king was exceeding sorry; yet for his oath's sake, and for their sakes which sat with him, he would not reject her."-MArk vi. 26.

THERE is a world of sad meaning in the little word that qualifies the intimation of Herod's grief. "The king was exceeding sorry; yet"-. He "was sorry; nevertheless." The full half of all the sins of men on earth are committed in this very way, with a feeling of sorrow and an excuse of necessity; one half of the sinners of mankind are in the very predicament of this king. They have a great deal of religion, but somehow they are always compelled to compromise it; they cannot help it; they are "exceeding sorry;" but yet—.

O this treacherous-but yet! How many good resolutions and good feelings does it nullify! How many admirable designs does it interrupt! How many

excellent premises does it bring to a "lame and impo

tent conclusion!"

"But yet, Madam!

I do not like-But yet. It doth allay
The good precedent! Fie upon-But yet!
But yet-is as a jailer to bring forth

Some monstrous malefactor."

So the poet complains.

may

And not less indignantly

the Christian moralize over this poor equivocatorBut yet; this shuffler between a frank affirmative Yes, and a bold outspoken negative, No;-this halting, envious busybody, that is ever coming between a man and his wishes;-paving the way to hell with good intentions, and blasting with his mildew many a holy and heavenward aspiration.

But yet even this same trimming waverer—" but yet"-may demand a hearing. He has his reasons"For his oath's sake, and for their sakes which sat with him, he would not reject her." And they are strong enough reasons:-an oath in heaven and a pledge on earth-the entanglement of a double obligation, on which God above and man below may equally insist.

Are the reasons valid? Such a question we need scarcely ask or answer. But are they alleged honestly, and in good faith? This is a more interesting inquiry. And, in dealing with it, we must distinguish between excuses of weakness and apologies for wilfulness.

I. Is it a case of weakness? Do you really find yourselves committed unawares? And is it in all sincerity that you pitifully urge the plea-You have gone too far to draw back? You would fain do so; but yet-.