argue a more exceeding grace in God to remit many and great sins in man, than to forgive only some few and lesser offences. 1. Fulness of his grace. He shews hereby, that there is more grace in him than there can be sin in us, or the whole world. He lets some sinners run mightily upon his score, to manifest that though they are beggared, yet his grace is not. That though they have spent all their stock upon their swinish lusts, yet they have not drained his treasures; no more than the sun is emptied of its strength by exhaling the ill vapours of so many dunghills. This was his design in giving the moral law, finis operis; that is, the event of the law was to increase the sin; but finis operantis, that is, the object of the agent, was thereby to glorify his grace. Moreover, the law entered, that the offence might abound. But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound," Rom. v. 20. When the law of nature was out of print, and so blurred that it could scarce be read, God brings the moral law (the counterpart of the law of nature) in a new edition into the world; and thereby sin hath new aggravations, as being rebellion against a clearer light, a swelling and breaking over this mighty bank of the law laid in its way. But this was serviceable to the fulness of his grace, which had more abundant matter hereby to work upon, and a larger field to sow its inexhaustible seed in; it did superabound. That grace should rise in its tide higher than sin, and bear it down before it; just as the rolling tide of the sea riseth higher than the streams of the river, and beats them back with all their mud and filth. It was mercy in God to create us; it is abundant mercy to make any new creatures, after they had forfeited their happiness, 1 Pet. i. 3; which according to his abundant mercy-according to his much mercy. But it was overflowing, exceeding abundant, more than full grace to make such deformed creatures new creatures, ver. 14 of this chapter. 2. Freeness of grace. None can entertain an imagination that Christ should be a debtor to sin, unless in vengeance, much less a debtor to the worst of sinners. But if Christ should only take persons of moral and natural excellencies, men might suspect that Christ were some way or other engaged to them, and that the gift of salvation were limited to the endowments of nature, and the good exercise and use of a man's own will. But when he puts no difference between persons of the least and those of the greatest demerit, but affecting the foulest monsters of sin, as well as the fairest of nature's children, he builds triumphal arches to his grace upon this rubbish, and makes men and angels admiringly gaze upon these infinitely free compassions; when he takes souls full of disease and misery into his arms. For it is manifest hereby, that the God and Lord of nature is no more bound to his servant (as touching the gift of salvation) when she carries it the most smoothly with him, than when she rebels against him with the highest hand. And that Christ is at perfect liberty from any conditions but that of his own, viz., faith; and that he can and will embrace the dirt and mud, as well as the beauty and varnish of nature, if they believe with the like precious faith. Therefore, it is frequently God's method in Scripture, just before the offer of pardon, to sum up the sinner's debts, with their aggravations; to convince them of their insolvency to satisfy so large a score, and also to manifest the freeness and vastness of his grace: "But thou hast not called upon me, O Jacob; but thou hast been weary of me, O Israel. Thou hast not brought me the small cattle of thy burntoffering," &c., "but thou hast made me to serve with thy sins, thou hast wearied me with thine iniquities." Isa. xliii. 22, 23, 24. When he had told them how dirtily they had dealt with him, and would have made him a very slave to their corrupt humours; at the conclusion, when they, nor no creature else, but would have expected fireballs of wrath to be flung in their faces, and that God should have dipped hi pen in gall, and have writ their mittimus to hell, he dips it in honey, and crosses the debt-"I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins," ver. 25. Could there be anything of merit here, when the criminal, instead of favour, could expect nothing but severity, there being nothing but demerit in him? It is so free, that the mercy we abuse, the name we have profaned, the name of which we have deserved wrath, opens its mouth with pleas for us: "But I had pity for mine holy name, which the house of Israel had profaned among the heathen, whither they went," Ezek. Xxxvi. 21. Not for their sakes. It should be wholly free: for he repeats their profaning of his name four times. This name he would sanctify, i. e., glorify. How? In cleansing them from their filthiness, ver. 25. His name, while it pleads for them, mentions their demerits, that grace might appear to be grace indeed, and triumph in its own freeness. Our sins against him cannot deserve more than our sufferings for him; and even they are not worthy of the glory which shall be revealed. Rom. viii. 18. Faith sees a leak in all the world's pleasures-and so he forsakes the sinking wreck, and prefers to swim through a sea of trouble to get safe to heaven at last, rather than by clinging to the world and its sinful and infatuated insensibility, be drawn with it into the gulf of hell at last -Major Rowlandson. THOUGHTS ON THE DEPARTURE OF HAPPY SAINTS. "There is an hour of peaceful rest "Then faith lifts up the tearful eye, OUR chief hindrance to entire resignation is, that we are so much addicted to things present and visible, while eternal realities are as yet so foreign to us, and so little known. But could we take one glance at the condition of a spirit thus departed, we should never regret and lament, as we are apt to do, the decease of relatives and friends; but our grief would rather be on account of the dim-sightedness of weeping survivors. Surely, when the door of Paradise is opened to let in any of our departed friends, delicious breezes blow through it upon us from that abode of blessedness. And we ought to avail ourselves of such refreshing influence; we ought to let it quicken us in following after those who have gone before us, rather than wish those friends back again to a world like this. Who could ever think of congratulating any that have been enjoying heavenly rest for ten, a hundred, or a thousand years together, upon their having to return back again to the perils and dangers of this present life? Why, then, should we regard it as an affliction that any one of our number has escaped from such perils, and is only entered into perfect peace and security? If a vacancy has been made in the family circle, let it also be remembered that another vacancy has been filled up in Heaven. The nearer we in this world are approaching the end of all things, the more welcome should be the thought of dying, because every departing Christian finds that the multitude of the blessed is increasingly out-numbering the militant remnant, and because the whole family of God are thus successively gathering in, that we may be all together for ever with the Lord. AGAIN We take for our meditation the beautiful interpretation of this name of BEZALEEL-namely, in the shadow of God. In concluding our last article, we referred the reader to the 91st Psalm, that he may there see something of the safe and blessed state, the honorable and dignified position of that soul who is hidden in this Eternal Shadow. Hast thou looked into that Psalm, reader? It may be thou hast, and hast seen much more in it than I can shew thee; and yet I may see some hidden treasure there which thou hast not. Let us look at it again, then; for it is too full ever to exhaust, and some things in it needs must be choice to the Christian's heart at all times. And one is, that whoso dwelleth in the shadow of God, is one "who dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High." But, sayest thou, that Psalm belongs to Christ-it was written prophetically of him. Yes, Christian, I know it belongs to Christ first; but if thou art a believer in Christ, thou art bone of Christ's bones, flesh of Christ's flesh, a member of Christ's body; so that what belongs to Christ-as he stands in the secret place of God, as the Head and Husband of the church, as "the First-born of many brethren,"-belongs to thee too. Was Christ set up of God the Father from everlasting, as Head of his body the church? It was that he might redeem his bride, the church: "That he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing, but that it should be holy, and without blemish." A church which should be to the glory of God the Father, that by her the Father might be glorified in the Son, and that by the redemption of his bride, he might lift up and exalt his glory above all which the highest heavens had ever seen. Or, was he set up in the secret purpose, or secret place of the mind of Deity, as the High Priest of God? It was that by his own sacrifice and blood he might make an atonement for the sins of those who, with himself, were dwelling in the "secret place of the MOST HIGH;" and so in every character which he has assumed for his body the church. Keep thine eye here, believer; for it is by keeping the eye of thy faith upon the eternal union between Christ and his church, and the Father's choice of thee in him, that thou suckest honey out of these truths, to mollify thy wounded heart, and wine to cheer thy fainting spirit. I will suppose, then, that thou art one who from everlasting hast, with Christ, been dwelling in "the secret place of the Most High,' and that at this moment thou art "abiding under the shadow of the Almighty;" that thou hast said of the LORD, "He is my Refuge and my Fortress; my God." Also, that thou hast come to this holy determination, "In him will I trust." Consider, then, for a moment, what blessed things are spoken of thee. The Psalmist, while meditating upon them, exclaims, with wonder and astonishment," Glorious things are spoken of thee, Sion, city of our God." And truly they are glorious beyond all description, if we look no farther than this one short Psalm. He that is a citizen of Zion, as hath already been said, is abiding under the shadow of the Almighty; like Bezaleel, he is hidden "in the shadow of God," and the Holy Ghost hath said of him, "Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler." Yes, believer, God will surely deliver thee from the snare of that infernal old fowler, satan. No matter how deep laid his snares are how cunningly they are twisted together-how vigilantly he watches them. The word of God concerning thee is, "Surely he shall deliver thee." O, that word "surely!" how much of comfort and consolation there is in it! It is a strong word, an expressive word; it is God, with ardour and vehemency declaring his full determination to deliver. "Surely he shall deliver thee.' Whatever be the sacrifice, whatever the cost, whatever the trouble he is at to do it, yet surely, "thy God shall deliver thee." And not only shall he deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, which includes his every temptation, persecution, fiery darts, grievous assaults, &c., but he shall deliver thee from "the noisome pestilence." The pestilence here spoken of, is, doubtless, the pestilence of sin; for no pestilence can be so noisome, so infectious, so baneful as this; this hath poisoned and slain the whole human race, and made man more loathsome than all reptiles. The stench of it hath reached even to the clouds, it hath thrown wide the gates of perdition, barred up the portals of life and immortality, and kindled into a flame, the devouring wrath of God. But, oh, blessed words! for from all its direful consequences, he hath said, "Surely he shall deliver thee." But how shall he deliver thee? In justice, in righteousness, and in mercy. His beloved Son being a shield and defence for thee, he shall deliver thee too, out of the reach of its cursed dominion. "It shall not have dominion over thee." He shall hide thee in his shadow, and there shalt thou abide-abide closely and safely. He shall cover thee with his feathers, that is, he will draw thee closely to his breast, and hide thee in the warmest, tenderest place of his affections, and, as it were, cover thee with himself. Look, Christian, as the hen calleth her chickens under her, not only when danger is nigh, but out of love, she calls them often to her, and covers them with herself; not with her wings alone, but with her breast; nay, her whole body, which she spreads and stretches out over them, that she may warm and nourish them with her own heat, cheer them with her peculiar note, and shelter them too from cold and |