cannot hope that a holy, just, and true God will sacrifice his justice and holiness, give up the honor of his law and violate his word, for the sake of saving me, a miserable sinner. How can I dare ask him to do it? How can he hear me if I do? And even should I obey him hereafter, my life will still be forfeited for my past disobedience. There is no remedy, no way of escape. Hell must be my portion, there is nothing before me but a fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation. But in the gospel of Christ, God does as it were say to such a sinner, No, sinner, thou needest not perish. Thou needest not go down to the pit, for I have found a ransom. My Son has offered up himself a sacrifice for the sins of the world. He has borne the curse of the law, and died, the just for the unjust, to make atonement for their sins. And now if, with penitence and faith, thou wilt trust in him, thou shalt be pardoned and saved for his sake. Surely this is gospel, this is good news indeed for sinners; and as such, every one who has proper views of God, of his law, and of his own sinfulness, will consider it.

Finally: How precious should the Lord Jesus Christ be, in our estimation! He is the tabernacle in which God dwells, the only place where we can find him. He is the Mediator, through whom alone we can come to God; the High Priest, who alone can present our prayers and services with acceptance; the atoning sacrifice, through which alone our sins can be forgiven. Surely then, he ought to be precious to us. To those of you who believe, he is precious. In your system of religion, in your hopes, he is all in all. But even you do not praise him by any means as you ought. Even you know not the thousandth part of his worth, his excellence. O seek and pray for more knowledge of him. Like Paul, count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus. And while you come around this table, look up and see what a high priest, what an advocate you have to plead your cause in heaven. See that very Saviour, the symbols of whose body and blood you are about to receive, seated on the right hand of the throne of the Majesty on high, where he ever liveth to make intercession. for his people. Is he worthy? then all who trust in him will be so regarded. Is he accepted? then the persons and services of all who believe in him are accepted. Will the Father hear him? then he will hear all who pray in his name. O then, Christian,

bless God for Jesus Christ, and take courage; and since we have a great High Priest, Jesus, the Son of God, who is passed into the heavens, let us hold fast our profession, without wavering, and come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.

SERMON LV.

CHRIST A MAN OF SORROWS.

He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows. Yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; he is brought as a Lamb to the slaughter; and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth. ISAIAH LIII. 3—7.

In this chapter, my friends, we have a prophetic description of the character, life and sufferings of our Saviour. So full, so particular, and so clear is this description, so exactly does it correspond with the events which it foretells, that it seems to be a history rather than a prophecy; and had we not the most satisfactory evidence of its being penned some hundreds of years before the birth of Christ, we should be tempted to suspect that it was forged after his death, and that the writer only related the circumstances which he pretended to foretell. In that portion of this remarkable prophecy which has been read as our text, there are several particulars deserving of attention. few remarks upon each of these particulars will compose the present discourse.

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I. It is here predicted, that Christ should be a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. That this prediction was literally fulfilled, no one, who has ever read the history of his sufferings, need be told. It may, however, be necessary here to correct a mistake, which has deprived this man of sorrows of much of that sympathy, which his unexampled sufferings would otherwise have excited. It has been supposed by many, that his sufferings were rather apparent than real; or at least, that his abundant consolations, and his knowledge of the happy consequences which would result from his death, rendered his sorrows comparatively light, and almost converted them to joys. But never was supposition more erroneous. Jesus Christ was as truly a man, as either of us, and, as man, he was as really susceptible of grief, as keenly alive to pain and reproach, and as much averse from shame and suffering, as any of the descendants of Adam. As to divine consolations and supports, they were at all times bestowed on him in a very sparing manner, and in the season of his greatest extremity entirely withheld; and though a knowledge of the happy consequences, which would result from his sufferings, rendered him willing to endure them, it did not, in the smallest degree, take off their edge, or render him insensible to pain. No, his sufferings, instead of being less, were incomparably greater than they appeared to be. No finite mind can conceive of their extent; nor was any of the human race ever so well entitled to the appellation of the Man of Sorrows, as the man Christ Jesus. His sufferings began with his birth, and ended but with his life.

In the first place, it must have been exceedingly painful to such a person as Christ, to live in a world like this. He was perfectly holy, harmless, and undefiled. Of course, he could not look on sin, but with the deepest abhorrence. It is that abominable thing which his soul hates. Yet during the whole period of his residence on earth, he was continually surrounded by it, and his feelings were every moment tortured with the hateful sight of human depravity. How much sorrow the sight. occasioned him, we may in some measure learn from the bitter complaints which similar causes extorted from David, Jeremiah, and other ancient saints. They describe, in the most striking and pathetic language, the sufferings which they experienced from the prevalency of wickedness around them, and often

wished for death to relieve them from their sufferings. But the sufferings of Christ from this cause were incomparably greater than theirs. He was far more holy than they, his hatred of sin incomparably more intense, and the sight of it proportionably more painful. In consequence of his power of searching the heart, he saw unspeakably more sin in the world, than any mere man could discover. We can discover sin only when it displays itself in words and actions. But he saw all the hidden wickedness of the heart, the depths of that fountain of iniquity, from which all the bitter streams of vice and misery flow. Every man that approached him was transparent to his eye. In his best friends he saw more sin than we can discover in the most abandoned reprobates. He saw also, in a far clearer light than we can do, the dreadful consequences of sin, the interminable miseries to which it is conducting the sinner; and his feelings of compassion were not blunted by that selfish insensibility which enables us to bear with composure the sight of human distress. On the contrary, he was all sympathy, compassion, and love. He loved others as himself, and therefore felt for the sufferings of others as for his own. If Paul could say, who is weak, and I am not weak? who is offended, and I burn not? much more might Christ. In this, as well as in a still more important sense, he took upon himself our griefs, and bore our sorrows. As he died for all, so he felt and wept for the sufferings of all. The temporal and eternal calamities of the whole human race, and of every individual among them, all seemed to be collected and laid upon him. He saw at one view the whole mighty aggregate of human guilt and human wretchedness; and his boundless benevolence and compassion made it by sympathy all his own. It has been said by philosophers, that if any man could see all the misery which is daily felt in the world, he would never smile again. We need not wonder then that Christ, who saw and felt it all, never smiled, though he often wept. We may add, that the perfect contrast. between the heavens which he had left, and the world into which he came, rendered a residence in the latter peculiarly painful to his feelings. In heaven he had seen nothing but holiness and happiness and love. In this world, on the contrary, he saw little but wickedness and hatred and misery, in ten thousand forms. In heaven he was crowned with glory and