ed. The traveller who now visits what was once the glory of the world, discovers little more than a pile of ruins. The marble towers that met the eye of the distant spectator, like mountains of snow reflecting the sunbeams--the massive gates overlaid with pure gold-the hosannas of the multitude, crying, peace be within thy walls and prosperity within thy palaces the smoke of the incense and burnt offering ascending to heaven-all is gone, and the barbarian pitches his tent in the city of God. How doth the city sit solitary that was full of people! how is she become as a widow! she that was great among the nations, and prin cess among the princes, how is she become tributary. She weepeth sore in the night, and her tears are on her cheeks: among all her lovers she hath none to comfort her: all her friends have dealt treacherously with her; they have become her enemies! And from the daughter of Zion all her beauty is departed her princes are become like harts that find no pasture, and they are gone without strength before the pursuer.

He beheld the city, and wept over it. The stubborn ingratitude of the people the long suffering and goodness of God towards them and their fathers-their blindness in rejecting the things which belonged to their peace the cup of their iniquity about to be filled by the crucifixion of their Lord-their certain and terrible destruction on the earththeir holy city burned with fire--their hopeless condition in the future state-reflections like these rushing together melted into tears the compassionate Saviour. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not! Behold your house is left unto desolation: and verily I say unto you, ye shall not see me until the time come when ye shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.

We proceed now to the practical application of the truths contained in this affecting passage.

He beheld the city and wept over it.

It is not among the least degrading effects of sin, that it produces selfjustification, even against the decisions of the understanding and the convictions of conscience. The transgressor finds misery indissolubly connected with sin: but not daring to charge directly on God unrighteousness in inflicting punishment, he creates a kind of inferior, but uncontrollable deity, termed Fate, or Necessity; and this imaginary being is made the author of what he calls his hopeless sufferings. This may seem a plausible method of relieving the character of God from unjust imputations, but in reality it is most dishonorable to his character. The doctrine that we are bound to our sins and the sorrows necessarily resulting from them, either charges God with a want of compassion, or implies that he is not an absolute Sovereign. But what is this fatality, or necessity, which many plead as the ground of disobedience? Does not God rule supreme in wisdom and goodness over all his works? Doeth he not his pleasure in the armies of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth? When he stretcheth out his hand, can any turn it back? Admit the fact that the present is a state of suffering and trial, it is nevertheless true that all things work together for good to them that love God. And it is also true that there is, for the vilest sinner, a way of escape from this vale of tears to a better country, even an heavenly. God

sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved. He has sent forth his word, arrayed in the majesty of his own attributes, bearing its appeals to every want and wo, every hope and desire, every emotion of which the heart is susceptible, He has sent forth his Spirit to accompany the word-to apply its healing power, and through its instrumentality to renew, and sanctify, and save. Can it be that, notwithstanding this exhibition of loving-kindness and tender mercy, the sinner cannot submit to God, believe, and live? Can it be that God hath pleasure in the death of him that dieth ?—and can it be that the sinner can do nothing to inherit eternal life? Many there are who live and die in the neglect of duty, pleading the necessity of transgression, and implicitly charging the merciful God with their ruin. The Jews did this, and they are not alone in the guilt. Therefore, O thou son of man, speak unto the house of Israel; thus shall ye speak, saying, if our transgressions and our sins be upon us, and we pine away in them, how should we then live? Say unto them, as I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but, that the wicked turn from his way and live: turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die, O house of Israel?-Behold ye trust in lying words that cannot profit. Will ye steal, murder, and commit adultery, and swear falsely, and burn incense unto Baal, and walk after other Gods whom ye know not; and come and stand before me in this house, which is called by my name, and say, we are delivered to do all these abominations?-(Jer. vii. 10.) In the face of such language, no sinner can pretend that there is any necessity for his future condemnation, except what he creates by his own voluntary rejection of the Gospel. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not. These sinners, Christ himself being judge, if they would, might have been saved. Though they had long enjoyed and abused the tender mercies of God-had put to violent death those whom he had sent on errands of love-had rejected the Lord of glory, and planned a conspiracy against his innocent life; yet, had they returned before the cup of iniquity was filled to overflowing, Christ would have embraced them, as the father fell on the neck of the prodigal son. So it is with the perishing sinner now. Christ has been wounded for his transgressions, and bruised for his iniquities. He waits long for the stubborn child to relent and return, and weeps when the days of hope are ended. Jesus wept, is a touching and repeated expression in the Scriptures; and these tears of the Son of God blot out the aspersion that he desires the ruin of any. Spiritual and eternal death can be imputed only to impenitence and unbelief. The lost sinner will feel at last that he has destroyed himself. He will remember that there was a time, when his Lord reasoned with him, and made him the offer of pardon, though his sins were red like crimson. Oh, that thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace!

In this thy day. The space for repentance allotted, through grace, to sinning man, makes a distinction between our condition and that of sinning angels, which demands the most devout expressions of thankfulness. We are prisoners of hope-they prisoners of despair. Upon our

ears have fallen glad tidings of great joy. Through their dreary abodes has echoed no voice of mercy. We are permitted to lay hold on eternal life. They are reserved in chains, under darkness, for the judgment. This distinction of condition and future prospects between us and the fallen angels constitutes the chief value of life. The brief portion of our being passed in a world significantly termed the valley of tears, would be unimportant, if during this hand-breadth of time the character were not formed, and the destiny fixed, for the eternity which lies beyond. But our everlasting welfare is suspended on the conditions of repentance and faith to be performed in the present life. This solemn fact is confirmed by the general and explicit declarations of the Bible. And now because ye have done all these works, saith the Lord, and I spake unto you, rising up early and speaking, but ye heard not; and I called you, but ye answered not: therefore will I do unto this house which is called by my name, wherein ye trust, and unto the place which I gave to you and to your fathers, as I have done to Shiloh. And I will cast you out of my sight, as I have cast out all your brethren, even the whole seed of Ephraim. Therefore pray not thou for this people, neither lift up cry nor prayer for them, neither make intercession to me: for I will not hear thee. Though Moses and Samuel stood before me, yet my mind could not be towards this people :-cast them out of my sight, and let them go forth.-(Jer. vii. 16, ch. xv.-Ezek. xiv. 14.) It is evident also from the lamentation of Christ, that the hopes of impenitent men terminate at death, and even before in respect to some transgressors. What propriety was there in his weeping over Jerusalem, and expressing the earnest desire that the guilty people had known in their day the things that belonged to their peace, if they were so soon to go to heaven; or if they were ever to be saved? What mean those tears of the Son of God, and that exclamation of sorrow?-Oh, that thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes.

The things that belong to thy peace. Hadst thou known, after thy many years of unbelief and sin, the character of Him thou hast rejected, he would have protected thee from danger as a hen gathereth her brood under her wings. Peace which the world can neither give nor take away should have been thine. He whom thou hast despised, and art about to nail to the cross as a malefactor, should have been to thee as an hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place; as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land. (Isa. xxxiii. 2.)

He from whose lips fell these words of pity and of terror knew their full import. He knew, for he gave it existence, what the soul would suffer, shut out for ever from the light of God. He knew what bliss it might enjoy in the eternal kingdom of his Father. He knew what will be the consternation at the last day, when they that pierced him shall mourn, and call to the rocks and mountains to fall on them, and hide them from the face of him that sitteth on the throne. He knew what agony must rend the sinner's heart, when his refuges of lies should be swept away, and he should remember that salvation was once urged on his acceptance with all the tenderness and patience of intreaty, and his Redeemer stood weeping and knocking at the door, but he would not

give him entrance. Enough there was in the character and in the present and future condition of Jerusalem to melt the Savior to tearsenough to excite the compassion of all holy beings. The God of their pious fathers had been wearied by their long ingratitude. Prophets had wept, and hung their harps on the willows. Angels had looked down with deep anxiety on the city of God. The long expected Messiah had entered their temple, preaching the Gospel of the kingdom; but they received him not. They refused to hearken. They stopped their ears, lest they should hear the law, and the words of the former prophets. Nothing could subdue them to repentance, for they made their hearts, saith the Scripture, like an adamant stone. And now the things that belonged to their peace were hid from their eyes. He who held the keys of life and death had come to weep over them for the last time, and to declare that they should see him no more till he should descend in the robes of judgment.

We have been meditating, my friends, on the overthrow of an ancient city, beautiful for situation, and the joy of the whole earth. I trust we have not surveyed the mighty ruins with the mere feelings of a traveller. We have, or should have, applied to ourselves the monitory instruction. We have received, as a nation, richer blessings than were ever bestowed on the inhabitants of Jerusalem. Is not our responsibility therefore greater? Have not we too a day in which we may know the things that belong to our peace? And is not this day silently and swiftly drawing to a close? Are not our everlasting interests suspended on the conditions of obedience, to be complied with while we are standing on the threshold of eternity? Oh, to lose the things that belong to our peace!-to awake when the harvest is past, the summer ended, and we are not saved! And then to endure the thought for ever-that God took no pleasure in our death-that eternal life was brought within our reach; and the Saviour came to our dwelling-place, and wept over our unbelief, and intreated us to live, and we would not! And now the days of hope are ended! No more the Sabbath morn ushers in its golden beams, inviting us to the house of God and the gate of heaven. No longer the voice of prayer can reach the mercy-seat. The day of probation is for ever closed-the good things have been received-the door is shut-let him that is filthy be filthy still, and him that is holy be holy still!

Am I describing the condition merely of those who perished in the deluge of those who fell on the plains of Admah and Zeboim—of those who entered not the land of promise-of those who moved to tears the holy Savior? Is it not true that the men of this generation, also, may fall short of the rest which remains for the people of God? Have we then estimated the value of the soul, and attentively considered what is necessary to salvation? Have we realized the deceitfulness of the heart, the allurements of temptation, and the uncertainty of life? Do we remember that each revolving day bears us onward one day nearer the anthems of heaven, or the wailings of hell-blots out one day from the pilgrimage of sorrow, or strikes one from the period which must for ever close the avenues of mercy? Why should this vain world gain the ascendancy over us, when we must so soon sleep beneath its surface?

Our fathers, where are they? and the prophets, do they live for ever? A few moments more, and where are we? Gone to that eternity on the borders of which we already stand. Who then has obtained the Christian hope? Be ye steadfast, for the crown of life is at hand. Who is still living without hope, and without God in the world? Lay hold on eternal life while it is called to-day, for the night cometh wherein no man can work. Waste no time in objecting that it is a difficult thing to be saved. When will the path of life be easier of access? Is it not also a difficult thing to be lost? God has hedged up the entrance into the broadway by promises and intreaties; by prohibitions and penalties; by the prayers and efforts of Christians; by the strivings of his Spirit, the checks of conscience, and the love of Christ. If you perish, you must force your way through all these barriers. Desist, then, from the unnatural work of self-destruction, and enter immediately on the work of salvation-for to-morrow may be too late. "He who delays repentance a single day, has one day more to repent of, and one day less to repent in." When the sinner is not far from the kingdom of God, a few moments of indecision may cost him death eternal.

Lay hold, then, on eternal life while it is called to-day, lest the hour of mercy glide away, and your eternal doom be written beneath that of Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Jerusalem; and the compassionate Savior looking down shall say: Oh that thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes."

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