SELF-PUNISHMENT.

ST. LUKE, Xxiii. 48.

"And all the people that came together to that sight, beholding the things which were done, smote their breasts and returned."

SORROW when the deed is done, and we are beginning to feel the consequences! That is very common with us all; so common and so frequent, that at last our faith in the feeling is completely shaken, and we cease to receive comfort from it. As children, it was sufficient to say, "I am sorry;" we felt as though in that acknowledgment lay a sufficient claim to forgiveness. Now it is far different. "I am sorry" has been said so often, really felt so often, it seems that something more is necessary; not of course, for atonement, but to satisfy ourselves that we are in earnest. Here is probably to be found the true origin of penance. It would appear to be a mistake to imagine that it necessarily implies anything like deficient trust in a Saviour. We punish ourselves to satisfy ourselves, not to satisfy God; and the longing for this relief is at times very strong. Occasions there are when it would be an unspeakable comfort to be able to undergo some great suffering or humili

ation, if only to persuade ourselves that we have not actually lost the power of enduring. The feeling may, and doubtless has been perverted, but it is a true natural instinct of the human heart, when aroused to the consciousness of its own miserable self-deception, and as such we may not venture to overlook it.

For in seasons of self-examination and repentance, though we may not have the slightest doubt of our own sincerity, though our feelings, when they come under review, may be undeniably real, we must yet be well aware that they are uncertain and intangible; they are ours now, to morrow they may be gone. If strength of principle is to go with them, where is our safety? Action therefore must be the test; but action is the test of the present, and the sin we dread lies in the past and the future. How, in such cases, shall we know that our sorrow is sincere, and that we may reasonably hope if similar temptation should recur, not to fall away again in like manner?

This is no easy question to answer, when we know the treachery of our own hearts; and selfdenial and self-discipline would therefore seem to be the only comforting assurance of sincerity. If we can consent, voluntarily and thankfully, to suffer because we have sinned, we may hope that we are so far, in earnest, and that if tried again, we shall stand firm. Not that there can be any complete assurance even then, especially when the offence is one which we are accustomed to consider

light. To commit a sin, and to punish ourselves for it afterwards, may be to many, easier than to refrain from it altogether; and the knowledge that we can thus bring ourselves as it were to justice, after the offence, may even at length become a salve to our conscience, and so a temptation rather than a safeguard. This danger, which must always be connected with self-punishment, arises from the natural view of suffering as atonement; and hence springs the exaggerated and false view of penance, which lies at the root of so many monstrous evils in the practice of the Church of Rome. Consideration must indeed show that no amount of punishment endured by a finite being can atone for a sin committed against one who is Infinite, but few take the trouble to reason upon such points, and if they do, the intellect quickly becomes confused, and the strength of reason is lost in the subtleties of metaphysics. The same principle which leads us all to feel, that after a child has been punished for a fault, it may naturally expect forgiveness, leads us to think in like manner, that after we have suffered for sin we may look for pardon; and this view does unquestionably, and most dangerously, interfere with the doctrine of Christ's Atonement.

Self-punishment is therefore a satisfaction to be used with great caution, and great self-distrust. It may with some minds easily degenerate into scrupulosity, with others into carelessness. But that it is a satisfaction, that the desire for it is in

herent in our nature, and that it must therefore be intended for wise and holy purposes, can scarcely be doubted.

Perhaps it is most safely exercised in cases of habitual weakness of purpose. If, for instance, we are habitually indolent, or careless in conversation, giving way from the temptation of the moment to unkind remarks or slight irreverences; or if we find ourselves always neglecting a certain duty, or giving way to some wrong, though trifling indulgence; we may find a lawful and not dangerous support and encouragement in compelling ourselves to some act of self-discipline, which shall be at the same time a proof of our sincerity, and an exercise of our power of selfcontrol. Sorrow in such instances is often rather fretful and disappointed than deep. We despise ourselves, but the offence, though it may be grievous in God's sight, is to ourselves scarcely sufficient to excite a keen repentance. We are discouraged, and having lost faith in ourselves in little things, we have but slight hope of gaining the mastery in greater; and without hope there is but a faint effort. Thus the little sin does Satan's work often more effectually by its consequences, than a greater sin would by its immediate influence. In order to neutralise such an effect, we may perhaps wisely do something to restore our confidence in the power of our own will, and our hope of being enabled at length, through the help of the Holy Spirit, to conquer even our habitual infirmities.

And other cases there are in which self-punishment may be safe, because from the depth of our repentance, it cannot be mingled with any thought of atonement. The sin has been so great, that the crushed spirit, far from seeking to satisfy for its own guilt, can scarcely bring itself to believe even in the power of the satisfaction of Christ. In such a state of mind it is but another form of grief; like the refusal of earthly comforts, the loathing of earthly joys, when the broken-hearted sit by the graves of the dead. It would seem cruel to deny that consolation.- Love it is which seeks it, and love may safely be trusted to guard it.

How many of us are there who have some memories which can never be effaced, -life-long sorrows for sins, which, though laid at the feet of our Redeemer, must even for that very reason, be the more bitter! Can we forget, because He, in His boundless love, has forgiven? And if we remember, shall we not desire to clothe ourselves in sack-cloth, and cover our head with ashes, mourning that we have ever so grieved Him, who is "gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth Him of the evil.” When the people who had gazed on the crucifixion of their Lord, smote their breasts as they turned away from that sight of awe; the feeling was for the moment real, and the repentance unfeigned. But with the greater number, we may fear, that the feeling fled with the day, and the repentance vanished under the shadow of the