The views which the humble man entertains of himself and of his condition are exactly suited to both. He is just such a being as he supposes himself to be, and in just such a condition. His origin is as lowly, his situation as dependent and precarious, his mind as ignorant and erring, his character as guilty, and his destination fraught with as much distress and danger, as he himself realizes. His views, therefore, are absolutely true and just. If such views then are honourable to a rational being, if no other thoughts can be honourable to such a being, then the views entertained by humility are honourable to the human character. On the contrary, the views of pride, or, as Mr. Hume chooses to style it, self-valuation, are absolutely unsuited both to the condition and character of man. They are radically and universally unjust and false, and of course are only disgraceful and contemptible.

The affections which have been here considered, as involved in humility, are evidently no less just. They spring irresistibly from those views; and no sober mind can entertain the latter without experiencing the former. These affections are all plainly the harmony of the heart with the dictates of the understanding; dictates seen and acknowledged to be just and certain, and, where the heart is governed by candour, irresistible. Whenever the mind sees itself to be thus ignorant, erring, and sinful, and its situation thus dependent, precarious, and distressing, it cannot, without violence done to itself, fail of feeling both the character and condition, and of feeling them deeply; for they are objects of immeasurable importance to its whole well-being. Equally just are the affections which he exercises towards his Maker and his fellow Christians. The difference between the character of God and his own character being seen to be such; so entire, so vast, particularly as he is infinitely holy and pure, while himself is altogether polluted with guilt; no emotions can be proper towards this great and glorious Being which do not involve a strong sense of this amazing moral difference between him and itself. In such a case, where there is no humility, there can be no reverence towards God; and where there is no reverence, it is impossible that there should be any thing acceptable towards him.

In the same manner, humility enters into every other affection of a sanctified mind towards its Maker. Our views of the mercy of God exercised towards us, and the emotions ex

cited by them, are exactly proportioned to the apprehensions which we form of our own unworthiness. He to whom much is forgiven,' our Saviour informs us, will love much.' Pardon, mercy, and grace, are terms which mean little, if they have any meaning that is realized, in the eye of him who is not humbled for his sins, and who does not feel his own absolute need of pardon. The song of the redeemed is sung only by those who realize the love of Christ, because he has 'washed them from their sins in his own blood.' The gratitude therefore exercised to God for his unspeakable mercy, in forgiving our sins, and redeeming us from under the curse of the law, will in a great measure be created by our humility.

In the same manner does it enhance our complacency in the divine character. Of dependence it is the essence; of adoration, and indeed of all our worship, it is the substance and the soul.

2. From these observations it is evident, that no man can hope for acceptance with God without humility.

'God,' says the text, resisteth the proud, but giveth grace (or favour) to the humble.' The proud, and the humble, are two great classes, including the whole of the human race. Of which class does it seem probable to the eye of sober reason, that the infinitely perfect Author of all things will select his own family, and the objects of his everlasting love? Those who possess the views and the spirit here described; or those who indulge the "self-valuation" so grateful to Mr. Hume? Those who boldly come before him, with God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men ;' or those who dare not lift up their eyes to heaven; but, smiting upon their breasts, say, God be merciful to me a sinner?' How obvious is it to common sense, that, if he accept any of our race, it will be such as have just views of their character and condition, of their own absolute unworthiness, of the greatness of his mercy in forgiving their sins and sanctifying their souls, of the transcendent glory of the Redeemer, in becoming their propitiation, and of the infinite benignity of the divine Spirit in renewing them in the image, and restoring them to the favour of God! Who else can possess the spirit, who else can unite in the employments, who else can harmonize in the praises, of the firstborn?

Let me ask, is it possible that a proud man should be a can

didate for immortal life; whether proud of his birth, his wealth, his station, his accomplishments, or his moral character? Suppose him to arrive in the regions of life, in what manner would his pride be employed? Which of these subjects would he make the theme of his conversation with the spirits of just men made perfect? How would he blend his pride with their worship; how would he present it before the throne of God?

3. From these observations also we learn that humility is a disposition eminently lovely.

6

'Learn of me,' says the Saviour of mankind to proud and perishing sinners, for I am meek and lowly of heart.' How astonishing a declaration from the mouth of him who controlled the elements with a word, at whose command the dead were raised to life, and at whose rebuke demons trembled and fled! Draw nigh, ye miserable worms of the dust, place yourselves by the side of this glorious person, and recite before him the foundations on which your loftiness rests; your riches, your rank, your talents, and your stations. How will these subjects appear, to his eye? How will those appear, who make them the grounds of their self-valuation? Meekness and lowliness of heart adorned him with beauty inexpressible. Cau pride be an ornament to you?

Would you be amiable in the sight of God, you must essentially resemble Him who was altogether lovely.' Even you yourselves cannot but discern, that, had he been proud, it would have tarnished his character, and have eclipsed the face of the Sun of Righteousness.

In the mean time let Christians remember, and feel, that they themselves will be lovely, exactly in proportion as they approximate to the character of the Redeemer in their humility. Let the same mind,' says St. Paul to the Philippians, 'be in you, which was also in Christ; who, being in the form of God, thought it no robbery to be equal with God; but made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men; and, being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.' Froin what a height did he descend! How lowly the visible station which he assumed !

Your humility towards God will make you lovely in his sight; your humility towards your fellow Christians will make you lovely in theirs. In both cases it will be a combination of views and affections conformed to truth, exactly suited to your character and circumstances, and equally conformed to the good pleasure of God, and to the perfect example of his beloved Son. It will mingle with all your affections, and makę them sweet and delightful. It will operate on all your conduct, and make it amiable in the sight of every beholder. From pride, and all its wretched consequences, it will deliver you. Of the grace of God it will assure you. 'For to this man will I look,' says the High and Lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, even to him, who is of a humble and contrite spirit; to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite.' It will accompany you through life, and lessen all the troubles, and increase all the comforts, of your pilgrimage. It will soften your dying bed, and enhance your hope and your confidence before the last tribunal.

SERMON XCV.

THE LAW OF GOD.

THE FIRST AND GREAT COMMANDMENT.

RESIGNATION.

AND HE WAS WITHDRAWN FROM THEM ABOUT A STONE'S CAST, AND KNEELED DOWN AND PRAYED, SAYING, FATHER, IF THOU BE WILLING, REMOVE THIS CUP FROM ME: NEVERTHELESS, NOT MY WILL, BUT THINE BE DONE.

LUKE XXII. 41, 42.

THE next exercise of love to God in our progress is resignaiion.

Of this excellence the text contains the most perfect example, which has been recorded or witnessed in the universe. Our Saviour while in the garden of Gethsemane having 'withdrawn from his disciples about a stone's cast, kneeled down, and prayed,' under an agonizing sense of the evils, which he was about to suffer. His prayer in the midst of this agony was, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless, not my will, but thine, be done!' The situation of Christ was much more trying than we can conceive. Yet in this situation he bows his will entirely to the will of God; and prays him to remove the cup, only on the condition that he is willing; and that not his own will, but the will of the Father, may be done. The occasion was wonderful; the resignation was complete. He yielded himself entirely into the hands of his Father, and earnestly desired that his will,