"men

to him he may even "count himself a happy man ;" and, as long as he "does well unto himself," to use the Psalmist's expression, will speak good of him :" yet, at this very moment, he hides it from himself, that he is despising the goodness, and forbearance, and longsuffering of God; and will not see, that this goodness of his Maker is thus continued to him, only for the purpose of leading him to repentance. But the day of forbearance will end; and with it all the blessings, that in mercy had attended him. The heart that could not be touched by tenderness and indulgence, must then be softened by afflictions and reverses; and every good which he had perverted or undervalued, shall then, at length, rise distinctly in his too tenacious memory, and overwhelm him with the bitter consciousness of its waste or abuse, as well as of his own depravity and ingratitude. Thus, that which was a blessing, shall become a curse to him; "the Lord shall take from him his strength, the joy of his glory, the desire of his eyes, and that whereon he set his mind:" and without that "godly sorrow that worketh repentance," his mind shall be confounded, and his spirits weighed down by that most gloomy inmate of the breast, "a fearful looking-for of judgment."

377

SERMON XXV.

ON THE MISERABLE CLOSE OF ALL FELLOWSHIP IN SIN.

MATTHEW, Xxvii. 4.

And they said, What is that to us? See thou to that.

THESE are the remarkable words of the Chief Priests and Elders of the Jews to the repentant Judas. This wretched being, we read, after he had betrayed his master, "when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the Chief Priests and Elders, saying, I have sinned, in that I have betrayed the innocent blood! And they said, What is that to us? See thou to that! And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself." He had filled up the measure of his guilt, and, when it was too late, began to look back with horror, and forward with despair. The tem

poral wages of sin were loathed by him: they were stamped with the word Traitor! Though received at the time with pleasure, they now, as it were, blistered his very eyes. By returning them, he hoped to make some amends for his crime; to relieve the dreadful burden of his guilt; to place a portion of it at the door of his iniquitous employers. He therefore carried back the reward of his treachery to the Chief Priests and Elders. But they had availed themselves, as far as they wished, of the treason, and, as is always the case, they now hated the traitor.

Oh! there is a moment, when the villain comes to abhor his own bribe; when the blood-money of the assassin fills him with horror; when he is compelled by his conscience to cry, "I have sinned, in that I have betrayed the innocent blood;" when he would give worlds to undo that which he has done! The despair to which sin at length leads a man, is indeed one of its most fearful effects in this world: and it always has this additional sting, that, in his extremity, the sinner is deserted and despised even by the very partners and promoters of his sin. They profit by his crimes; they make use of his hands and treachery; they urge him on to atrocities beyond their own daring; they see him sacrifice his own soul, and shut the gates of mercy on himself; and afterwards, when his eyes

open to the blackness of his guilt, and he bewails to them his utter perdition, they have neither pity, nor consolation, nor common fellow-feeling, to give him. They hear unmoved the self-upbraidings of the minister, the agent, of their wicked purposes; they listen with contempt to the groans of his remorse: and when he wishes to make some atonement, some restitution, or to assuage the agonies of his conscience by opening to them his whole heart and feelings, and by appealing to the sympathy of those who so eagerly employed him, they receive it only with cold, and hard, and cutting reproof.

The first melancholy instance of a combination in wickedness is that, which lost the world, and nearly obliterated in man the Divine image, in which he had been formed. It occurred in the fatal compliance of Eve with the suggestions of the Tempter, -"And he said unto the woman, Yea! hath God said ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden ?"- What! are you placed here, in this Paradise of delicious fruits, with eyes to covet and appetites to relish them, and yet to have an exception made as to any one of these harmless enjoyments? Even so! "And the woman said unto the serpent, We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden; but of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God hath said, Ye shall

not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die." It is, indeed, true that there is such an exception made, not to mock or to mortify us, but as the most ready, indeed, almost the only possible trial of our own obedience, placed as we are here in a garden. In order to see whether we properly acknowledge the relation in which we stand to Him, and whether we prefer the gratification of our senses and appetites to the fulfilment of his will, He has desired, on pain of death, that we abstain only from that one particular tree in the midst of the garden. Now, hear the soothing, insidious voice of the Tempter, in terms such as tempters ever use!" Ye shall not surely die." You shall not really perish. No! your heavenly Father will not be extreme with you, if you transgress so trifling a commandment as this! Why should you deny yourself so small, so easy a gratification as this, of eating a little insignificant fruit of this or any other tree? Pluck, therefore! Be not afraid! "For God doth know, that in the day ye eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as Gods, knowing good and evil.” By such a method of allaying her scruples, and removing her fears, while he inflamed her curiosity, (a method in common use among the wicked even to this day) was the mother of mankind prevailed upon to disobey God. "Ye shall