virtues. They do not look at sin as having been committed against a holy and gracious God, or feel that it is a great and bitter evil to have offended him, or abase themselves in his presence, or perseveringly and affectionately seek the throne of grace, to mourn before him with a broken heart. How then can forgiveness be of any great value in their estimation?

But what is a sense of sin? A citation or two from the writings of the Psalmist will fully answer this inquiry; "Mine iniquities are gone over my head: as a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me. - I am troubled, I am bowed down greatly: I go mourning all the day long. Innumerable evils have compassed me about; mine iniquities have taken hold upon me, so that I am not able to look up: they are more than the hairs of mine head, therefore my heart faileth me." St. Paul furnishes us with a similar idea. "The law," says he, "is spiritual: but I am carnal, sold under sin.-O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" My brethren, it is in this season of penitential agony that forgiveness appears of all blessings the most desirable, and that the contrite heart, with sincerity, and surpassing earnestness, adopts and urges the prayer of our text. Are there any persons in this assembly, who, at the review of their

offences, are affected in a similar manner? Are you troubled for your sins? Are you bowed down greatly? Do you go mourning all the day? Are you ashamed and afraid to look up? Do not, I beseech you, attempt to repress the recollections which awaken this anguish. Do not try to alleviate your pain by forgetting its causes. Forgetfulness will not annihilate them, but rather impart to them an additional vigour, and on a future day will render them more appalling than they are at present. Who imagines that by neglecting a malady he removes it; or, that by turning his thoughts to an indifferent subject he shall make a disaster which involves the ruin of his circumstances, unreal? The burden which oppresses you, if you would have it effectually removed, must be carried to the throne of grace. The wound which rankles in your bosom must be laid open before the great Physician; otherwise it were madness to give you any hope of relief. To soothe you with assurances of pardon, because you have not been more sinful, or because you feel the pangs of guilt so acutely, were to act the part of an unfaithful adviser. The only way to avoid the destruction that threatens you, to obtain the forgiveness of your sins, and the favour of your offended God, is, to confess your transgressions; to acknowledge the equity of God, though he

should sentence you to perdition; to renounce all dependence on your own supposed worthiness, on the depth of your convictions, on the sincerity of your hearts, or on the earnestness of your prayers; and to rely simply and wholly for your acceptance on the sacrifice of Jesus Christ.

But it is possible that you may be discouraged from approaching the throne of mercy; you may suspect that God will not pardon you, and that it would be presumptuous in you to hope in his goodness. To these reasonings we oppose the declarations of sacred truth. "Come, now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.-If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." Should you despair of mercy, and refrain from prayer, you will either sink into your former apathy, or continue to feel your burden. While David "kept silence," under the pressure of conscious guilt, he was distracted, or, to use his own language, his bones waxed old through his roaring all the day long; but," he adds, “I acknowledged my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgression unto the Lord; and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin."

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2. This prayer implies that we are unable to make an amends to God for the sins we have committed against him.

When irreligious men are troubled for their sins, it is very common for them to resolve on the practice of virtuous and pious conduct, with the intention of inducing God to forgive them. This principle may, to a certain degree, be admitted among men. If, for example, a servant have failed to accomplish the task of labour which has been allotted to him, and which he is still under obligation to perform, he may, on a future day, by extraordinary exertion, or by protracting the season of labour, make an amends for his neglect. But this principle does not universally apply; for, if a man have committed a capital offence, he is never supposed to be capable of repairing the injury which he has done to society; consequently, he is adjudged to death. This will in some measure illustrate the case in question. Man is an offender against the majesty and government of the Most High; every violation of whose will is a capital offence, and exposes the sinner to final condemnation. If so, no subsequent obedience can atone for his delinquencies; and for these reasons: all the duties which a sinful creature can perform are so infected and defiled, that they cannot counterbalance the errors and crimes of former

years: and if those duties could be blameless, and uninterrupted till the end of life, still they could not be supererogatory, for these properties ought always to have characterised his duties. Therefore, as an intelligent creature cannot do more in the way of obedience than he ought to do, it is impossible that he can make an amends for his past neglects. This view of moral impotency is essential to a sincere and fervent petition for pardon: for, in proportion as sinners perceive their weakness, they will place less and less reliance on their own performances, and will be convinced that the forgiveness of their sins must be a perfectly free and gracious act.

It has been shown, I hope with sufficient clearness, that God, as the equitable Governor of the universe, requires an amends to be made for our sins; and that, by providing us with a propitiatory sacrifice, an amends has been made equivalent to the demands of infinite justice. This glorious truth is the foundation of a believer's hope; without it, he dares not indulge hope; for, perceiving, by the justice and purity of the law, the utter deficiency of his own works, he cannot presume that any course of imperfect obedience can be regarded by his offended Sovereign, either as a motive to forgiveness, or as an equivalent for his past transgressions. If