us solemnly realize, that the very man whom he condemns and derides may not improbably be admitted, with an open entrance, into the kingdom of God, and he himself be shut out for ever; that the object of his scorn will, at the final day, be raised to immortal glory and immortal joy, and himself be driven, with supreme disgrace and woe, from the presence of his Judge; it would seem, that he could hardly fail to contract his pride, lay his hand upon his mouth, and his mouth in the dust, and take his only safe and proper station at the foot of the cross. Here he would make it his business to pray for others, and to judge himself.

This consideration may be eminently useful to Christians. Even they, it is not to be denied nor concealed, measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not always wise. Perhaps there is scarcely a precept, which respects our fellow-men, which Christians ordinarily find it more difficult to obey, than that which requires us to esteem others better than ourselves. The precept, however, is in itself divinely wise, and was never obeyed without the most solid advantage. At the same time, its foundation is laid deep in facts. Every Christian, if not grossly unfaithful to himself, knows incomparably better his own unworthiness than that of others. Hence he is furnished with complete proof, and proof which exists in no other case, that his own station ought, if he is rewarded according to his works, to be very low. Surely this consideration is more than enough to balance all those defects, whether real or imaginary, on the ground of which he forms uncharitable opinions of others; censures them with severity; and perhaps denies them a place in the favour of God. Surely his own sins will weigh more in the scale, which should determine the moral character, than the trifling peculiarities of the sect, class, or church, to which others may belong; or any differences in religious doctrine, which are not absolutely essential, or which do not involve in themselves plain and gross criminality. How many persons, of whom we have thought hardly, will make a brighter and better appearance than ourselves at the great day!

Boerhaave, a man who rendered himself immortal by his

talents and labours, and who, there is the best reason to believe, has become immortal in a far higher sense by his beneficence and piety, is reported to have said, when present at the execution of a criminal, "Perhaps that poor guilty wretch is, "in the sight of God, less guilty than I am." How few persons, have we reason to believe, entertain such just views of the guilt of sin, and the heinousness of their own sins, as this great and good man! By thus humbling himself, how highly is he exalted in the view of every person present. How greatly would pride and self-righteousness have lowered him in our estimation? How exact a counterpart is he of that first of all men, that greatest of the Apostles, who, after being endued with wonderful inspiration, after being caught up to the third heaven, after having converted half the known world, could say, "Unto me, who am less than the least of all saints, "is this grace given, that I should preach among the Gentiles "the unsearchable riches of Christ."

Imitate then, I beseech you, these glorious examples. Make' it your business, not to applaud, but to know; not to flatter, but to amend yourselves. Open your eyes daily on your errors and your sins, and labour earnestly, not to justify, but to renounce them. Remember always, that God will hereafter judge both you and your fellow-men, and that his judgment will be according to truth. Ask yourselves, day by day, how you will appear in his eye, and what sentence he will pronounce upon your conduct in this life; and remember, that you cannot obtain his favour, nor be received into his kingdom, unless you essentially resemble that glorious Redeemer, who, although the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of his person, has declared his own character in these remarkable words, "I am meek, and lowly of heart."

SERMON XXVII.

THE HARVEST PAST.

JEREMIAH VIII. 20.

"The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved."

To understand the import of these words it will be useful to consider the state of the people in whose name they were uttered by the prophet. The Jews were at this period on the eve of destruction. Their temporal prosperity was from the first suspended on their obedience to God. Secular good was more frequently promised, as a reward to their obedience, than that which is eternal, and secular evil more frequently threatened, as a penalty for their disobedience. Every corrupted nation may be justly considered as hastening to its fall in the natural progress of things; but the nation of the Jews, of which God was the sovereign, was taught to expect this fall as an immediate judgment from heaven, as the punishment denounced against rebellion in the constitution of their government. Their sins were known, overt acts of treason against their supreme ruler, and as such were to be punished with peculiar severity.

A short time previous to the period when the text was written, Josiah was on the throne of Judah. The reformation, begun by him, was the last before the final ruin of the kingdom.

At this time the prophet clearly saw every hope drawing fast to a close. They had been entreated, warned, and threatened by every prophet, from Moses to Jeremiah. But all, as the great founder of their empire had predicted, was in vain.

Infidelity and irreligion had taken entire possession of the nation. Their kings, their nobles, their priests, and their citizens, with one universal declension, had finally turned their backs on Jehovah, and yielded themselves up to the abominations of the heathen. Truth, justice, and benevolence had fallen in the streets, and falsehood, injustice, and cruelty rioted without control. The gold was become dim, and the most fine gold changed into dross.

The government itself, as in every case of this nature, was unhinged. The king had become a mere cipher, and was afraid to do a plain act of justice to the prophet Jeremiah, or even to have it known that he had consented to receive a message from God. A sensual and brutal nobility had weakened every social bond, and the people, encouraged by their example, and actuated by their influence, had reached the verge of anarchy, and of all the evils which that last curse of mankind so plentifully produces. Accordingly, they were finally rejected by God, and given over to cursing.

What a melancholy prospect is here presented to our view! A nation fast declining, through its sins, from the summit of human virtue and glory, into the depths of corruption, disgrace, and ruin; without friends abroad, without harmony at home; their enjoyments vanishing, their hopes setting in darkness; peace and prosperity offered to them a thousand times, urged upon them by God with the most affectionate solicitude, on the most desirable of all conditions, that of returning to their duty, but despised, rejected, and lost for ever. The very time allotted for their reformation, the day of grace and hope now hiding behind the mountains, and leaving the world to a long night of misery and despair.

They and their children, destined to captivity and to the sword, were still gay, sensual, impure, avaricious, false, frau

• Jer. xxxviii.

dulent, cruel, and impious. Not a symptom of reformation appeared to gladden the anxious eye with a hope of recovery. The political body was infected with the plague, and was fast changing into a mass of putrefaction and death. They had been often reproved, but had steadily hardened their necks; and were to be suddenly destroyed, and that without remedy. All these were immortal beings. Of course their ruin reached beyond the grave. Their present destruction was only the beginning of another, which was to endure throughout eternity.

In what circumstances could the prophet with more propriety have taken up the affecting lamentation in the text, "The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not "saved ?" The time of harvest in Judea was the time when the inhabitants and the nations, by which that country was surrounded, usually went out to war. At this time, their /faithless allies, the Egyptians, in whose aid they chose to trust

rather than in that of God, and who almost of course deceived their fond hopes of succour, were expected to bring them assistance against the king of Babylon. But the harvest came, and no Egyptian friends appeared. The summer also was ended, but these auxiliaries never came. This last hope therefore vanished, and left the wretched expectants in the gloom of despair.

There are, my brethren, many situations in the life of man to which this lamentation may be applied with the utmost propriety and force. Wherever great blessings have been enjoyed and abused, or hopes have been cherished and lost; where God has been long indulgent, and has finally withdrawn, all those who are especially concerned may very properly adopt this afflicting exclamation. These, however, are not the only situations to which it is applicable. Nor can the consideration, which it expresses with so much energy, be of any use to the persons here intended. A state of absolute despair, a state of remediless ruin admits of no alleviation. Those who look on, may indeed derive from a subject so awful and distressing lessons of the greatest utility. The warning may arouse the ear of sloth, and sound an alarm to the heart of