dispensed to the guilty, in a consistency with the rectitude of the divine nature, and the honour of his law.

2dly, God was not moved to provide a Saviour for his creatures, by any sense that his law was too strict in its demands for them to be able to obey. We find that the word of God still denounces a curse on every deviation from that perfect rule. There is no mitigation of the penalties annexed to disobedience. The law which requires perfect obedience is in full force. The exactions of justice are not in the least abated. How indeed is it possible that they could? for consider how the case stands. God is infinitely amiable and perfect; and what does he require of his creatures, but that they should love him with all the soul, strength, and heart, which he hath given them? Can this ever cease to be an obligation? What should make it cease? Nothing, but that God should become less amiable, that his perfections should fade, his goodness be exhausted, or his greatness impaired. On the other hand, what is it that he threatens to those who withdraw their hearts from him? Is it not the loss of his favour and friendship? Can either the obligation or penalty be accused of severity? Surely in this God does nothing unbecoming a wise and righteous governor. Nay, with reverence be it said, he could not do otherwise without denying himself. Is it conceivable that he should retract his word,

that he should compound, like earthly creditors, for a part of what is owing him; that he should depreciate the honour of his law, or dispense with the exactions of his justice? No; he hath said, and never will unsay it, "that the wages of sin is death;" but he hath purposed to display his compassion to fallen man, in a manner that should reconcile all his perfections. "And in this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that he hath sent his Son into the world, that we might live through him."

3dly, The inability to perform his duty, which man contracted by his fall, did not render his case in the least more deserving of compassion. This inability, as it proceeds entirely from the depravity of our tempers, and the enmity of our hearts, can only serve to render us more vile and odious in his sight. Had we indeed lost the affection of love altogether, had our natural powers been quite destroyed by the fall, our case might have moved compassion; but this case was not ours. The affection of love still remains, and we exert it with ardour and vivacity towards a variety of objects. Our natural powers, though impaired, are not destroyed, for we employ them successfully in our worldly concerns; so that our inability to love God, when translated in its true language, amounts just to this, that we love those things which are contrary to his nature so much, that it is impossible we can love him; and how this

should extenuate our guilt, let those who plead it explain,

4thly, God was not moved to this act of unmerited grace by any foreknowledge he had that mankind would receive it with thankfulness. He foresaw, as appears by the prophetic writings, the ingratitude and contempt that would be poured upon his Son. He foresaw that he should be despised and rejected of men; that his person should be insulted, his name derided, his blood shed, and the calls of his grace rejected. All this was full in his eye when he laid the plan of our redemption; so that in all views, you see it was an act of the freest and most unmerited grace. It took its rise from no good in the creature, either existing or foreseen.

Unmerited, unsolicited, and ill requited, the fountain of all this grace was in God himself; for his goodness is like himself, unsearchable. "His thoughts are not our thoughts, neither his ways our ways." I now proceed, in the

II. place, To show that the redemption of mankind is a full demonstration of the unbounded love and goodness of the Divine nature. "In this," saith the apostle, "was the love of God manifested towards us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him." Consider then,

1st, The dignity of the person whom God sent on this gracious errand. Had he sent one of the

meanest of his servants to sympathise with us in our forlorn state, it would have been an act of great condescension and goodness. Had he commissioned one of the least considerable of those spirits who surround his throne, to minister some relief to us in our miserable situation, with what gratitude ought we to have received such an instance of his compassionate regard. But who is this that cometh in the name of the Lord to save us ? What are his rank, his titles, and dignity? Let a prophet declare: "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of peace."-Let an evangelist declare: "The Word was made flesh, and tabernacled among us, and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth."--Let an apostle declare: "God who at sundry times, and in divers manners, spake to our fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken to us by his Son from heaven-who is the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person." Or if all these testimonies are insufficient, let it be declared by a voice from the excellent Majesty, "This is my beloved Son, hear ye him." Such was the person whom God sent to save us. manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son."-But whither did he send this divine person? This is a

"In this was

2d Circumstance that cannot fail to heighten our gratitude. He sent him into this lower world. He came from heaven to earth, from the throne to the foot-stool, from the bosom of his Father to this guilty and polluted world, which deserved to be visited with an executioner of justice, instead of an herald of peace. And in what circumstances did he appear on earth? Was it in the pomp of royalty, to receive the homage and services of his creatures? No; his life on earth was one continued scene of suffering. From his birth to his death he was a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. He was even so destitute of the common accommodations of life, that he said of himself "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head." Yet these sufferings, though great, were light in comparison with what he afterwards underwent. The bitterest sorrows which the common lot of humanity knows, admit some intervals of ease and relief. At worst, the mind of man, in its most oppressed moments, anticipates the bright side of things; or, ignorant of futurity, feels but the weight of the present moment. But this consolation of human weakness, the prophetic mind of Jesus did not admit. He foresaw the approaching hour of suffering, and was fully aware of every bitter ingredient in the cup that was prepared for him to drink. He beheld the louring cloud of darkness and distress.