are? He is the Holy One of Israel, too pure to look upon iniquity : if He does think upon us, what are His thoughts? What is in His heart? Will He stamp out sin, or may He pardon it? Is His attitude such as to attract us to Him, or make us run from Him in terror ? The subject is one in which all men are deeply and equally interested ; and nothing can be more unnatural and foolish than indifference respecting it.

There are two views, both of them wrong, between which men's minds have oscillated, in all ages and lands, respecting this subject. According to the one view, God is not terrible to sin. Either He is good natured and indulgent, or He is absolutely indifferent, sitting on a throne, above the stars, in serene and cold magnificence, too high to Care for the like of us, no more concerned with the thoughts and ways of men than men are with the dance of insects in a summer evening. "The Lord hath forsaken the earth; He will not do good, neither will He do evil.” According to the other view, God is an object of dread and terror. “I heard Thy voice in the garden,” the heart mutters, " and was afraid.” It was mentioned in the newspapers at the time, that after the battle of Solferino, some hundreds of wounded soldiers crept into coppices and ravines and other hiding places, afraid of bad treatment from the victorious French; and searching parties continued to bring them in, for several days, in all stages of exhaustion. Just so do sinful men dread the Almighty God, regarding Him as their chief enemy. This view expresses itself in the Molochs and Sivas that men have created for themselves, to render a trembling and horrid and often bloody worship to. “When we look through a red glass,” says Archbishop Leighton," the whole heavens seem bloody: when sin unpardoned is betwixt, and we look on God through that, we can perceive nothing but anger and wrath in His countenance." These two views, variously modified and variously expressed, meet us all through the bistory of human thought; and men's minds in all ages have naturally oscillated between them.

What does God say Himself ? His full answer is given in Jesus. A gradual revealing of His attitude, prefigurative and predictive, as well as by holy and gracious acts, had been in progress before: the full disclosure is in Jesus. And it is made in a living manner. Not as in å statue-blind, bloodless, marble-faced, whose attitude is one and unchangeable ; but as in a living, breathing man, in whose face and aspect is the play of feeling, and whose hands and feet move at the bidding of his heart.

Speaking generally, the Divine attitude, thus revealed, is one of mighteous mercy; exactly corresponding to His character. There is righteousness, that stands aloof from all evil, and that provides for the honour of eternal justice. Righteousness; which awakens in us a sense of personal sin, and brings up the cry from the depths of the heart, Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Thy loving-kindness. We sometimes speak thoughtlessly about this matter, and say, If God had dealt with us in righteousness, He would have destroyed us. But He has

dealt with us in righteousness: He is “a just God and a Saviour." Along with righteousness, there is mercy, whose magnitude amazes and overwhelms me. Had the coming of the Son of God been fore-an nounced, without its purpose being told, the tidings might well have spread dismay. “ Surely," might the holy angels have said, “ Ha cometh to shoot forth His lightnings and destroy them.” “ Surely, might men have said, “He cometh to judge the earth; and ucho shall abide the day of His coming, and stand when He appeareth ?”

“But not with thunders strowed

Was His tempestuous road,

Nor indignation burned before Him on His way." He comes not in judgment-wrath, but in mercy; not to destroy, bu to save. He deals with us not according to our sins, nor rewards u according to our iniquities. He goes about doing good; healing men bodies; pronouncing their sins forgiven; calling them back to a bette life. A palsied man is brought to Him one day on a bed; and seein the faith of the poor forlorn man and his friends who carried him, H said, -reading the secrets of the unopened book of his heart, the pen tential longing that his lips could not utter-He said, “ Son, be of goo cheer ; thy sins be forgiven thee.” Another day an adultress is dragge into His presence, and the question is put by those who bring he (grey-bearded men, perhaps, who dared to come with mock-virtue int the presence of the Holiest): “Moses in the law commanded tha such should be stoned; what sayest Thou?" He does not acquit het Her guilt could not be denied. Her bowed head and crimson cheek, told all the sad story. But He sends her away in peace, to sin no more When her accusers brought her in, and put their question, Jesus stooped down and wrote on the ground; His silence evidently with purpose and meaning in it. Failing to understand His silence they pressed their question; and then, lifting Himself up, H quietly bent on them His holy look, and said, “ He that is without si among you, let him cast the first stone;" and having spoken, He stooped down again, and resumed His writing on the ground. The calm, simple words, so quietly spoken, smote them like the voice of God. Instantly memory and conscience are busy. Ah, He has judged more than the woman! One by one, they steal away and disappear. Lifting upon he His holy, pitying look, when her accusers, conscience-convicted, had all gone out, He said, “ Woman, where are those thine accusers ? hati no man condemned thee?” She said, “No man, Lord.” And Jesus said unto her, “ Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more ;' and she went away, clothed with forgiveness, to live another life. Again, the publicans and sinners of Jerusalem have gathered round Him, attracted by His gracious words and bearing; men, I can believe who have served in the legions of sin, and have “pierced with the lances and torn with the shot," and women who have stooped to utterest shame. The Pharisees and scribes, looking on from a distance, murmur that He should stand on such terms with sinners, whom they would not have touched. And that murmuring calls forth the three

parables of the fifteenth chapter of Luke, about the lost sheep, the lost piece of money, and the lost son, in which He exhibits, as anguage had never exhibited before, the misery of sinful man and the reat compassionate love of the Father in heaven. Instead of dispersng the company that has gathered round Him, the murmuring serves nly to bring more brightly and fully into view the grace of the Saour's heart, and to let publicans and sinners know how ready He is to less them. Now, in the attitude of mercy, which Jesus assumed ward sinful men, He reveals the attitude of the Father, whose reprentative He is. The old words are embodied and manifested forth

ringly before our eyes : “The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and - pacious, long-suffering and abundant in goodness and truth.” These

to mere words no more : God in the person of His Son has embodied

hem in living acts. : This mercy is variously represented to us. According to one class - representations, it is mercy that has come nigh to us. Jesus did not :- md afar off from sinners, and send His voice across a wide distance,

-you call one back across some miry or thorny way, not caring to go : him. But He came and dwelt among us. Again and again we : eet such a record as this, that He is “ gone to be guest with a man

at is a sinner.” Matthew, Zacchæus, the woman of Samaria, the

man that was a sinner, and many others, will at once occur to every -emory. Self-righteousness is astounded. It would have a holy

ing keep sinners at a distance, or meet them with a scowl. It would = te Him say, Stand back, and do not touch me! The leper would repel

e leper as unclean. But the incarnate Mercy did the very reverse of hat. The story of the Gospel is just how He went about among them,

Beking them, knocking at their doors, entering their houses, sitting at Sheir tables, eating with them, touching them with holy hands, opening

his heart to them, bidding them back to God-in all ways earning His ame of everlasting honour, The Friend of sinners. And therein is refealed the attitude of the Divine mercy: it is not mercy that beckons s from a distance, or that offers to come half-way to meet us, but that has crossed the whole breadth of our separation from God, and come close up to us just where we stand; seeking mercy, for if God had not come after me, I would never have thought of Him.

According to another class of representations, it is mercy that invites 4. Two men, who were friends in youth, have quarrelled : for years they have stood aloof,

" Like cliffs that have been rent asunder," yet in both their hearts is a yearning for the restoration of the broken friendship. It needs only a word on either side to bring them together again; but pride forbids the speaking of it. Here (without any wish for it on our side) God has spoken the first word, and that a word of grace, bidding us back to Him.

Jesus did not merely show to men the mercy that is in the Father's heart; but He lifted up His voice in invitation. There was invitation

in His very manner and bearing. The publicans and sinners saw this and read their welcome in His face. He invited sinners to Him in express words, like these (warm yet with emotion across these eighteen centuries !)-" Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." He came to call” sinners to repentance; and oh, how loud, loving, reiterated, heart-melting His calls! And just before He ascended into heaven, He left His charge with His disciples, that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in His name among all nations. That is the mercy of God the Father. Not mercy that stands coldly waiting, stony-faced, in dignified silence, till we come; but that invites us nigh; yea, that beseeches ; yea, that draws, with cords of love and with the bands of a man; yea, that runs to meet us and clasp us in its warm embrace. Never, till I read how Jesus dealt with sinners, do I understand the full meaning, or the real urgency, of those words of old : “As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live: turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die ?”.

Some child or child-heart asks, perplexed, But what is it to come! Conceive of it in this way. If Jesus were to appear personally before you—if He were to look with His holy and loving eyes into your eyes

—if He were to stand before you, wearing the tokens of His Divine power and the marks and memorials of His dying love-if He were to stretch out His arms towards you, and name your name, and say, Come unto Me—what would you do? Would you not run to Him at once, and cast yourselves into His outstretched arms, and say, O my Saviour, I come at Thy bidding; I trust Thy loving-kindness and Thy power to save me! Well, He is as near you as all that. Though you do not see Him with the bodily eye, He is yet very near you. There is His eye of infinite love looking into your face. See how His arms, once outstretched upon the Cross, are wide open to receive you. Run to Him ; cast yourself into His arms; leave yourself with Him; trust Him with everything for both worlds; and then say, “I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him against that day.”

If your heart is like to fail, when you think, I am low and He is high, I am vile and He is pure, encourage yourself by saying, But He has bidden me come. A poor boy stands shivering, homeless, friendless, with scarce rags enough to cover him, in one of the squares of a great city, one winter afternoon. He does not know where he is to sleep all night, or where he is to get his breakfast to-morrow morning. A rich man sees him, steps up to him, talks with him, learns his story, and says to him, Come to my house (telling the street and the number), and I will be a friend to you. The poor boy goes ; but when he sees the house, and the signs of grandeur about it, and climbs up the steps leading to the front door, his heart begins to sink, and he says, Perhaps he will turn me away, and refuse to see me! But then he encourages himself by saying, Ah, but he bade me come! Even so, when you think of His greatness and your littleness, His purity and your sin, and when

your heart is like to fail within you, encourage yourself by saying, He will not cast me out, for He has bidden me come!

According to another class of representations, it is mercy that receives 18. “This man,” the Pharisees and the scribes said, “receiveth sinners." They meant it for a reproach: it is in truth an unconscious and unwilling Hosanna. Whenever a soul drew near, though stained with sins of scarlet or crimson dye, the Lord had a gracious welcome ready; a free pardon and a heart of love. Not only by His manner of dealing with sinners, but by His whole teaching, Jesus showed that the Father's mercy is receiving mercy. Take just one example-the parable of the prodigal son. A young man is seen leaving his father's | house for a far country. He has received his “ portion,” and is his own master. Being arrived in the far country, away from under his father's eye and the holy restraints of home, he wasted his substance with riotous living; went on in this course till he had spent his all. For a time, all went well; the young man rejoiced in his youth, and his heart cheered him in the days of his youth, and he walked in the ways of his heart and the sight of his eyes. But the joy, such as it was, speedly passed. There arose a mighty famine in that land, and he began to be in want. There is no one to court his society now. His old friends give him a cold nod when they meet him, and push hastily on; by-andby, when they see him coming, they cross to the other side of the way, and pass him without recognition ; some of them even look into his face with a cold stare, as if they had never seen him before. No man knows him. “ All thy lovers have forsaken thee; all thy friends have dealt treacherously with thee, and are become thine enemies.” In his extremity—for hunger must be fed—he hires himself as a swineherd. One day, in his degradation and bitter misery, he sits down and thinks. His mind goes back to home. What an Eden it seems to him! How well it is with the meanest there! “I will arise,” he says within himself,

and go to my father, and will say to him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son : make me as one of thy hired servants.” This is the turning point. The young man is "come to himself.” Immediately he began to carry his resolution into effect, and started for home. You see him on the way, emaciated, haggard, barefoot, clothed in his swineherd rags, the whole bundle not worth sixpence : how changed from him who went forth with high hope and step elate, in all the pride and beauty of his youth ! As soon as he comes within sight of home, there is an eye that perceives his approach. Many a time, in the silent night, the father had thought of his poor boy far away; many a time, when he was devouring his living with harlots, the father had been praying for him; many a yearning, wistful look had he sent out into the twilight, to see if perchance his wanderer were coming home again. And now the eye of the father is the first to see that slowly approaching figure, and to know it for his son. With the quick-sightedness of parental love, he sees him when yet a great way off, And he does not wait for the poor Wanderer to come back all the way, but has compassion and runs to