wipe away nor undo; there they remain, burdening your souls and dragging them downwards to destruction. You must however cast off this fatal weight, ere ye come to the portals which open into another world. But how will you be freed from your load? Where will you leave behind that monstrous mass of guilt, which, if not removed, will shut against you the everlasting doors of heaven? My brethren, in your journey onwards through this wilderness of sorrow, you will pass, you are now passing, one bright and blessed spot-a shore of light amid the waste desert which surrounds it—a fair and sunny land, though storms and tempests howl upon the plains beneath. There stands upon it a cross, and a tomb. But the cross has no victim now, and the grave is untenanted. They are the earthly memorials of man's redemption, the symbols of God's mercy and a Saviour's love. There, my brethren, at the foot of that cross, at the door of that empty sepulchre, cast down the burden of your sins and sorrows, and go on your way rejoicing. Be ye thus sealed with the seal of the living God, and then hereafter, when your pilgrimage is ended and your labour done, ye will sing songs of praise and gratitude around the throne of heaven, and be numbered with those, who "have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb."

SERMON XII.

DEUTERONOMY IX, PART OF 14TH VERSE.

Let me alone.

NOTWITHSTANDING the vast pretences to learning which we hear echoing around us; notwithstanding the gigantic efforts that are made to communicate to all classes and conditions of mankind, an increased desire for knowledge; and notwithstanding the success, with which these extraordinary exertions have in many instances been attended; there is one point, and that of no common importance, on which the most woful ignorance continues to prevail amongst, it is to be feared, by far the larger portion of mankind; namely, the relation which subsists between man and his Maker. God dwells, indeed, enshrined in his own glory and majesty, and we are unable to penetrate, even in thought, the mysterious splendours which surround his throne. But we must not from this suppose that he takes no

concern in the actions and conduct of mortals, or that because he is invisible to them, their deeds and thoughts are unseen and unnoticed in heaven. For nothing is further from the truth. God has always, from the first day of creation, been ever present with his weak and sinful creatures. In the times to which our text refers, his Providential care over men, was shewn in a clear and visible demonstration of his power. The pillar of fire and the pillar of the cloud, were irresistible proofs that he did indeed visit the earth with the blessing of his presence. In the years which succeeded, the bright cloud, which continually rested upon the mercy seat in the most holy place of the temple, afforded a never-failing assurance, that Jehovah was still in his own sanctuary, and near to aid his people in all cases of emergency and distress. But when these miraculous appearances were withdrawn, when the cloud and the fire ceased to direct and order the Israelites in their goings; when, as it occurred in the second temple, no bright emblem of the divinity shone within the walls of the holy of holies; did God, if I may be permitted the use of such an expression, take leave of the earth at the same time with these representatives of his power? Was that intimate union severed, which had been so mercifully established between himself and the patriarchs of old? Were the saints

of later times cut off from the high and holy privileges of communion with him, which Abraham and Isaac and Moses had enjoyed? Did St. Paul, or St. Peter, or St. John, come before his throne, with a hope less sure and stedfast; with a confidence in his will to hear them, less ardent and less persevering, than that of David, or Hezekiah, when they besought him for aid and mercy? Certainly not. The faith and unfading trust in God which the Christian martyrs displayed, were in no respect weakened, because the wonders that had enchained the attention under the Mosaic economy had ceased from the earth. I am speaking now of times posterior to our Lord's ascension, when the apostles were left without any visible manifestation of God's presence amongst them.

It may here be objected, that although the apostles had no actual appearance of God's glory, to cheer and encourage them in their supplications to him; yet, that the privilege conferred by the Holy Spirit of working miracles, must have been a convincing proof of God's constant providence and care, and must therefore have given them greater confidence in approaching his footstool, than can be felt by those, to whom no such extraordinary powers have been committed. But this very objection proceeds from that lamentable ignorance alluded to in the beginning of this dis

course; for it originates in an entire forgetfulness, that, although the extraordinary gifts of the Spirit are withheld, yet his ordinary graces are still shed upon the heart, and are as powerful to impart confidence and strength to the sincere believer, as if they had enabled him to give sight to the blind and speech to the dumb. In this view then there is the same source of strength and support, of boldness and perseverance, for the Christian to draw from now, as there was in the day of the first preachers of our holy faith. The whole tenour also of the New Testament, clearly shews that God exercises a superintending care over his creatures; not only over nations and large communities of men, but over individuals also. To this our Saviour pointedly alludes, when he tells his followers, that even the hairs of their head are numbered. Every good gift besides and every perfect gift, every thing which as God's servants we can desire, we are taught to look for from God's hand. The question then naturally arises, will God give us these blessings by his own fixed and predetermined decree, or withhold them from us by a decision equally unalterable, without regard to any supplications. which we can make before him? Does he determine to give or to refuse, and never relax from his inexorable resolution, however earnestly his poor and penitent creatures may beseech his