Perhaps the male factors, who were crucified with him, saw the man, when he stood without an equal even before the court; and when Pilate led him forth, covered with blood, a spectacle to angels and to men; and presenting him to the people cried out,- Behold, what a man!' They certainly saw him walk along the tedious way through the city, from the place of judgment to the place of blood; he walked in silent sorrow, till he fainted under the burden of his cross. They heard him, when he said to the weeping daughters of Jerusalem, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and your children.' They certainly lent him their ears, and looked upon his face, as with them he raised his painburdened head, and cried out, under his crown of thorns, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do ;'-yea, as we conjecture, they beheld at that instant, and in that face, a spectacle, the like to which no mortal hath ever witnessed.

But friends, did not both of the crucified men behold the same ? Why did the invective ascend from one heart, while the other presented homage? It was his perception of his own moral need, which gave to the relenting thief so clear a view of the afflicted yet royal personage at his side. The beams, which radiated from the noble fellow-sufferer, beams that impregnate the spirit; it was these, that by little and little melted away the ice of the heart that was benumbed by sin. Hear ye not from his mouth such words as the following?" And indeed we are justly in the condemnation, for we have received what our sins deserve ;-but that noble personage, who suffers in such a way, he cannot be a deceiver. When he bore witness of himself, that he held in his hand the keys of heaven and of the abyss, he spoke the truth.-Yet, how in a hand that was pierced through, could the key of heaven lie? And a head that was pale in death, shall it wear the crown of majesty? It is not possible! And yet it is possible !"-In this way does faith struggle with doubt in the agonized heart, until faith triumphs, and the man exclaims, Lord, think of me when thou comest into thy kingdom.' Brethren, could he believe and adore, who saw nothing but the crown of thorns, and the pierced hand, and the running blood, and the death-sweat under the thorns upon the kingly brow; could he believe, that this man uttered no falsehood when he testified that the keys of heaven and of the abyss lay in his pierced hand?-and will you doubt, you who have lived to know of the ascension morning,

which burst open the grave of rock, and brought up the mighty dead, as the Prince of life? And will you doubt, who have lived to know of the ascension morning, which raised the Prince of life to the throne of majesty? And will you doubt, who have seen his invisible sceptre guide his church through more than a thousand years, and have beheld the seed-corn, which was planted in the dark night with tears, grow up to a tree, under the shadow whereof the fowls of the air take lodging?-Brethren, Christ has said that the queen of the South shall condemn the children of this generation, for she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon: Verily, you who can doubt whether the keys of heaven and of the abyss lie in that pierced hand, the thief on the cross shall be your condemning judge.1

But let us see in the third place, brethren, what this history exhibits that is apt to be misunderstood.

Is it then a fact, I hear you inquire, can the last spasmodic breath, with which the profligate breast is able to utter a 'God have mercy on me,' drown in silence the loud cry of a long, vicious life for vengeance? Is it a fact, that there are no blood spots so dark, and so great, that they cannot be washed away by that solitary tear, which falls from the glassy eye of a dying sinner? Oh happy me! so let me drink deeper of it, the intoxicating cup of pleasure;-I had only moistened my lips at its very brim! Ch happy me! Do I then have my portion in both worlds; the joys of salvation and of the present life? Let me first pluck the chequered, the sweet poison-flowers in the garden of time, ere I hasten to your spotless lilies, which bloom in the garden of your eternity!

Look at this! how the brightness of heaven, which lies over the spectacle that we are contemplating, is changed into the yellow reflection of hell, for our blinded, diseased eyes! It is true, we have a religion, which teaches that in the very interval of death, between, as it were, the lightning's flash and its stroke,2 there is time to secure salvation. We have a Scripture that proclaims, Where sin hath abounded, grace abounds still more.' We have a Saviour, whom the poet fitly represents as saying, Whoever devotes himself to me as my servant, I choose him as my bride; and the sin which his

1 See a further illustration of christian faith, in Note R, at the close of the Sermons.

2 Between the lightning of death and its thunder.

heart repents of, I look upon as having never been committed.' And should you wonder at this? To believe,-with a bruised heart to believe,—what is it either more or less than to open the door of the soul? When there was no penitence and faith, this door was shut; the Saviour knocked, but it was not opened. When however it is once opened, does he not enter the soul, and with the Father take up his abode therein? Does there not enter with him, the Spirit of discipline and of pardon, whose work it is to convert the heart of man into a temple of God? The kingdom of God then with all its treasures is within such a soul, and will you shut the door of heaven upon it, and leave it without ?

The blind man, who as he rushes upon the precipice is suddenly restored to sight, and who with lifted arms and joyful thanksgiving springs back from the abyss, seizes and kisses the good hand that touched his eyes, and will never more let it go,-will you make no distinction between this blind man, and such an one as will not receive the kind hand that was about to touch his eye-lids, but thrusts it back, until—a more convenient season?-Blind man! and how do you know that the hand will ever come to you again? Do you suppose, that it will come to you just as soon as you will to become penitent, to shed tears of contrition, to exercise faith? Oh brethren, -so perhaps many of you may have already experienced, these holiest of all tears, they flow not barely when the man wills to have them. Have you not heard of the judicial obduracy which comes over those, who turn the grace of God into licentiousness? Believe me; in the inward life of the sinner, to whom the grace of God would give the sighings of repentance, and the tears of contrition, and the blessedness of faith, but he will not receive the gift,-there will come to him hours of slumbering, when the breast shall heave no more sighs, the eye shall shed no more tears, and the hands, though they shall fold themselves convulsively, yet shall not be able to extort a prayer; when the anchor of longing desire, thrown out on all sides, shall find no bottom to which it may cleave. Be not deceived, God will not be mocked! Oh the Holy Spirit which inviteth man to repentance is a tender Spirit,- -once sent away, he comes back again-reluctantly and rarely. Of them who do evil, so that good may come, the word of truth testifies, their damnation is entirely just."1

1 Rom. 3: 8.

But let us in the last place, my friends, consider the rich consolation, which this passage of sacred writ exhibits to us.

Sinner, while thou standest this side the grave, it is never too late for thy repentance,-this is the sacred comfort which springs forth from the words of the Redeemer on the cross.

6

'It is too late! Oh word of terror which has already fallen like the thunder of God upon many a heart of man!-See that father, as he hastens from the burning house, and thinks that he has taken all his children with him; he counts, one dear head is missing; he hastens back,-'It is too late!' is the hollow sound that strikes his ear; the stone wall tumbles under the roaring torrent of flame, he swoons and sinks to the ground.-Who is that hastening through the darkness of the night on the winged courser? It is the son, who has been wandering in the ways of sin, and now at last longs to hear from the lips of his dying father the word, 'I have forgiven you.' Soon he is at his journey's end, in the twinkling of an eye he is at the door, It is too late,' shrieks forth the mother's voice, that mouth is closed forever!' and he sinks fainting into her arms. See that victim for the scaffold; and the executioner, whetting the steel of death. The multitude stand shivering and dumb. Who is just heaving in sight on yonder distant hill, beckoning with signs of joy? It is the king's express; he brings a pardon! Nearer and nearer comes his step: Pardon! resounds through the crowd-softly at first, and then louder and yet louder. It is too late!' the guilty head has already fallen!—Yea, since the earth has stood, the heart of many a man has been fearfully pierced through by the cutting words, 'It is too late.' But oh, who will describe to me the lamentation that will arise, when at the boundary line which parts time from eternity, the voice of the righteous Judge will cry, 'It is too late!' Long have the wide gates of heaven stood open, and its messengers have cried at one time and another,―To day, to day, if ye will hear his voice! Man, man, how then will it be with you, when once these gates, with appalling sound, shall be shut for eternity! "Agonize that you may enter in at the narrow gate; for many, I say unto you, shall strive to enter in, and shall not be able. When once the master of the house hath arisen and shut the door, then shall ye begin to stand without, and to knock at the door, and to say,- Lord, Lord, open unto us,' and he will answer and say unto 'I know you not, whence ye are."

you,

But, my friends, the more appalling the truth is, that, at the dividing line between time and eternity, the sentence will be proclaimed,'It is too late ;' so much the more consoling is the word, flowing down to us from the cross of Jesus,-Sinner, while thou standest on this side the grave, it is never too late. Therefore let us fear,' cries an apostle to us, ' lest we should slight the promise of entering into his rest, and some one of us remain behind;-to day, if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts.' Whether the voice of thy God will come to thee again and search thee out,-this thou knowest not; but whatever may lie behind thee, whether nights of the darkest error, whether mountains of sin,-thou distinctly hearest to day his proclamation,- It is not too late!'

SERMON VI.1

THE PRESENCE OF GOD WITH HIS CHILDREN.

TO-DAY, beloved in Christ, I turn my attention to one particular class of hearers; not to those among you who are secure and at ease in the way to death, nor to those who enjoy peace and blessedness in the way to life; but to you, unhappy men, who hang between heaven and earth; who cannot die, and cannot live; whom the earth will not leave unmolested, and whom heaven will not accept. It is a fearful state when, in the heart that was created for God, the world and Satan reign, and yet the man can pass on in presumptuous confidence, and say to himself and to others,-I have peace, all goes well. But you will say, it is a condition still more fearful, when one looks at the opened heaven above him, full of grace and truth, and yet cannot break loose from the pollutions of earth; when he is thus the prey of two conflicting powers. Many supposing this latter state to be worse than that of careless sin, make no attempt to wake themselves from the slumber of death, but press down their eyelids so much the closer, that they may sleep the more. But let

1 For an Analysis of this Sermon, see Note S, at the close of the Sermons.