Scripture, indeed, my friend, at any time, never deals in half measures. It begins at the beginning, and that with the heart; dealing with it through the conscience: insists upon it that the heart is diseased, and that to such extent, that an entire change there must be effected. Men may and do hesitate, and cavil, and so may you; but in these hesitations Scripture discovers no such sympathy as to recede in one page from what it demands in another. To come up, therefore, to the proper meaning of this language, uttered by an angel commissioned from above, nothing short of repentance towards God, and of faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ, will answer instead. No, reader, rely upon it, that nothing short of your returning back from sin and Satan, from the world and self, to God, your original happiness; as to your Sovereign Lord to be obeyed, and your best portion to be enjoyed, depending for reception and acceptance on the sacrifice and intercession of Christ alone; nothing short of this can you, with safety, rest in, when you hear of repentance towards God, and of faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ.

A subject of the Divine Government, and one day to render an account of all the deeds which you have done in the body; yet, at this moment, under an invincible obligation to attend to this subject, I trust you will not object to my referring you, for information and conviction, to the law of God itself.

Whatever men may think and say, when living in sin, or paying to this law only the homage of a passing regard; and however even some divines may confound this law with the thunders of Sinai, the majestic circumstances which once attended its more complete

display, and formal delivery, it is worthy of your deliberate consideration, that nothing has been left undone to put honour upon it. When the God of glory dwelt in the Jewish temple, in the pillar of the cloud over the mercy-seat, this law, by his special command, was deposited in the ark, the holiest place in the holiest of all, as its dearest and choicest treasure. Thus was it done to the law which God delighted to honour. But this, the greatest honour which could then be conferred, was but an emblem of all that followed another day. When God, our Saviour, descended and dwelt below, with a primary view to the divine glory, he placed that glory in the extent and purity of this law, as already illustrative of the interests and character of the Divine Government. Whatever darkness there had been; as to the manner of meeting its demands, so as to secure our salvation, in it he saw no darkness at all. No; on the contrary, He came to explain it in all its spirituality, nay, to obey it; thus to magnify and thus to make it honourable. It was during this obedience that the Father said repeatedly, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased:" it was during this obedience that the angels waited upon him, and admired, and worshipped. In the very prospect of this obedience, ages before, the Messiah himself had said, "I delight to do thy will, yea, thy law is within my heart ;" and now, towards the close, you hear him again,—“I have glorified thee on the earth, I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do." Yes, under the weight and burden of his great undertaking, you will see that cordial love to the commandment, that zeal for the divine perfections and government, invariably took

precedence of his boundless compassion for the souls of men; and be assured, my fellow-immortal, that that which was first in the divine mind, must, of necessity, have a corresponding place in yours.

And, oh! if it has such a place, then will this law explain to your heart's wish the necessity of a Saviour, and of such a Saviour. From Bethlehem Judah even to the place of skulls will you see him employed, in one unbroken design, of explaining and fulfilling this law; thus magnifying, and thus making it honourable. Yet after all, you will then add,-Great as this was, it was not more than the law deserved; nay, born under it, not more than the law demanded.

Now, certainly, of, at least, past indifference to this sacred law, you must be conscious, if not of present aversion? And is not either of these evidence sufficient of a disease of the heart? How are you able, after all this, or how is any man able, to dispose of all ideas, indulged too, as to its strictness, or what you once vainly considered its undue severity? Are they not shamed away before the conviction of its unbending nature-its impartial rectitude? Has He one law for the rich and another for the poor? one for the old and another for the young? one for the illiterate and another for the learned? Nay, may I not add, with reverence, after this unspotted obedience and vicarious death, has He one law for us and another for Himself? Has he not now convinced you, that this unalterable standard is as it is, not because he has been pleased only so to reveal it, but that it is, as it is, because of his character-because he is such a God-because "the righteous God loveth righteousness, and his law is the truth?”

Without, therefore, any reference to a single act of spiritual obedience, which at present is out of the question, though the law admits of no other, converse, oh! converse, as for yourself, with this blessed, and perfect, and unalterable standard of all human conduct. Soon will you find, to your unconquerable assurance, that, so far from being free from blame, this law has been a domestic of yours, and an old acquaintance who has grown up with you from infancy, to whom, of all others, you have done the most violence, and used so ill. Nor is there any nation, or any man, where it is otherwise. The very heathen shew the work and design of this law written on their hearts: its very fragments, scattered everywhere, are known by their natural notices, and these, exerting their influence by a sense of right and wrong, appear in their daily deportment. Placed in such circumstances, if you look around you, one will address himself to your understanding, endeavouring to explain to you the nature of faith; dwelling, it may be, upon its simplicity; while another would address himself to your sense of gratitude, and represent, most unguardedly, one perfection of the Great God as, in itself, "most estimable," and therefore to be first received. The apostles commended themselves first to "every man's conscience," both parties being understood to be standing in the presence of God; and could we follow this method, I presume, more success would follow.

I, like yourself, reader, have been raised out of the dust but the other day. Into the divine presence, therefore, let me now invite you, and there let this great matter be explained, and, it may be, settled

between us. Standing here, I have nothing to address to your fancy, or your sense of honour; nothing to your speculative understanding, or your disposition for religious controversy; nor, at this moment, any thing to your sense of gratitude.

You may recollect, that I said I should request your ear, and something more; it was conscience to which I then alluded. Yes; since I refer not to what is doubtful, but what is certain, I appeal directly to conscience.

Secrets, in your own mind, there ought to be none assuredly concealed from yourself, and of me or of my searching you need not be afraid: at least I cannot ascertain so much as you might.

Have you never, then, in past life, had any misgivings of mind? And were not each of these the voice of conscience? Has your mind ever known depression, or foreboding of something painful, you knew not what? And what was this, if not the voice of conscience? Have you ever felt weary of life, and begun again? And what, to you, could this be, but the movement of conscience? Nay, have you never condemned yourself in the thing which you allowed? And if so, how could this have been, if not through conscience? I appeal not at this moment to your heart: no; here let me remain in the passage to it, and entreat you to consider how much you have to answer to Him, in whose presence we now stand, for your resistance of all these misgivings, or this depression,-for your forgetfulness of all these forebodings and this selfcondemnation. Fearfully and wonderfully made you are, but not less fearfully and critically situated. Surely you will not now shut the book, and leave me here alone? Bear with me but a little longer, and