whose minds his tenderness made no impression, and who refused the offers of his grace: "Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem! how often would I have gathered you together as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!" To conclude; There are very few individuals to be found in society who, from any motives than those of sincerity of heart, would be induced to approach the holy altar; upon any other principle cold and inefficacious would be the sacrifice, and great would be the danger. Frequent are the instances, however, in which the sincere and upright are prevented by fears as groundless as they are incorrect. Can we suppose that the benevolent Jesus, whose heart always beat with the tenderest affection for his creatures, would have instituted a ceremony for our observance, and commanded our participation of that ceremony, in order to endanger our present quiet, and to bar our entrance into the mansions of eternal peace? No, brethren; mistaken would be the views of his parental character, could we harbour such an idea. In all his intercourse with the human family, he evidenced himself our friend; and if a doubt of his tenderness should rest this morning upon your minds, go in imagination to Calvary, witness his sufferings upon the cross, and you will be obliged to acknowledge that God is love! Remember the reception with which the Publican met in the temple, and approach the altar with an assurance of a sincere welcome. Yes, beloved, with your hands upon your breasts, cry, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" and that Saviour who looked in tenderness upon him, will look in tenderness upon you. Many, and those who are truly sincere, are afraid to approach, lest they should approach unworthily; remember that there is an essential difference between being unworthy, and partaking unworthily. The citizen who wantonly violates the laws of his country, is unworthy of pardon; but if he receive with gratitude the pardon offered him, and is determined to offend no more, he receives it worthily. We confess in the service at the altar, that we are not worthy of the crumbs which fall from the table of the Lord Jesus; but still if we receive the elements in a grateful remembrance of his death, and are determined to correct our errors, amend our lives, and devote ourselves to the service of God, we receive it as we ought, as worthily as our fallen nature will admit of: "A broken heart, my God, my King, Is all the sacrifice I bring: A broken heart for sacrifice." SERMON XIV. "As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God! My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God; when shall I come and appear before God?"-PSALM, xlii. 1, 2. THE animated language in which the holy Psalmist expresses his desires for a close interview and communion with God, is a proof of the fervor of his devotion; and should inspire us with a disposition when we approach the throne of grace, to call upon our souls, and all the powers of our minds, to engage with becoming spirit in the prosecution of our religious duties. When we fall upon our knees in private, to offer up our prayers to the Almighty, or when we come into his sacred temple to unite in the accents of devotion, with the assembly of his worshipping people, we should recollect the nature and attributes of that Being before whom we appear, and worship him in the beauty of holiness; we should remember that if angels in his presence veil their faces; that if the cherubic host of heaven cast their crowns at the feet of Jesus, when they ascribe to him that praise so justly his due, we should endeavour to render him the tribute of a grateful and undivided heart; the world and its momentary concerns should be for a season laid aside. We should keep our minds directed to the object of divine worship; we should recollect that the religious privileges we enjoy were purchased for us by the precious blood of a redeeming Jesus, and light the torch of our affections at the altar of the living God. The world, my hearers, will admit of zealous attention to every pursuit, except that of religion. The votaries of wealth will rise up early, late take rest, and eat the bread of carefulness, in order to extend their temporal possessions. There is no part of the universe but what they will explore, in order to increase their riches. Their hearts are fixed upon the world, and their minds and conversation are absorbed in the consideration of earthly things. Conduct of this nature they judge not only consistent and proper, but absolutely necessary to secure them success; an enthusiasm without which, their efforts would be unequal to the object they have in view. But when the followers of Jesus appear animated with divine things; when they talk of panting after God as the hart panteth after the water; when they confess that their souls are athirst for God, yea, even for the living God; when in agreement with the Psalmist they declare that one day spent in the courts of the Lord, is better than a thousand devoted to the world; that their earnestness subjects them to censure. How often does it happen that the pious ardor of the serious Christian is attributed to a zeal without knowledge-a warmth of affection unreasonable and injudicious! But as we are enjoined to love the Lord with all our heart, and all our soul, and all our strength, can the affections of our minds be too much engaged? Can we be too abstracted from the world? Too much devoted to our duty? Should we not strive to lay up treasure in heaven! in that city which hath foundation, whose builder and whose maker is God? If there is a subject calculated to excite the love of a rational intelligent, and to attract the unwearied attention of an immortal being; that subject is the salvation of our souls. When we consider the pains which our redemption produced in the mind of the Saviour; when we reflect upon his agonies, and behold him expiring upon the cross, that we might live forever; that individual who can remain cold and insensible to the emotions of piety and gratitude, can have but an imperfect view of the obligations he is under to the God of his salvation. The Psalm from which I have selected the text, was penned by David, at a time that he was separated from the temple of God, and denied the heart-consoling privilege of worshipping the Almighty in the midst of the great congregation. Either through the persecution of Saul, or the rebellion of his son Absalom, he had been driven into exile; the harp, with the mellifluous accents of which he had been accustomed to praise the Lord, was hung upon the willows and the recollection of his former devotions inspired his mind with the most earnest longings for a restoration to the immediate presence of God in his sanctuary. No language that he could possibly invent, possessed sufficient force to express the desires of his soul; his mind appears to have been engaged in the pursuit of some figure, by which to represent the extent of his devotional feelings. He traversed the field of nature, to select some object that might resemble the agonizing sensations of his soul, and at length fixed upon a thirsty, famishing deer, to convey in faint characters, the breathings of his mind after God. "As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God." He beheld in imagination the hart flying with rapid strides from the huntsmen who were pursuing her; he saw her upon the stretch, in order to escape the destructive violence which threatened her safety, and perceived her to be panting for a drop of water to cool her parched tongue, and to revive her declining strength. Exhausted with the fatigue of the chase, and almost breathless and faint with the extent of her exertion, a brook of water presents itself to view; the pleadings of nature would have induced her to stop her flight, and to quench her thirst at the gently flowing stream; but the fear of the pursuers deprived her of the gratification, and quickened her pace. The sensations which the poor animal endured at that moment, the Psalmist conceived to be in some measure descriptive of his own; her thirst for water to satisfy the cravings of exhausted nature, resembled the PP |