of remorse, but the contrition of David's heart is compared to the anguish of broken bones.

Behold the penitent publican, mentioned Luke xviii. 13. Pressed beneath the load of his guilt, he goes to the temple to pray. "But he stood afar off, and would not so much as lift up his eyes to heaven, but smote upon his breast, crying, God be merciful to me a sinner!" His distance, and humble posture, shew the sense he felt of his own unworthiness, conscious that he might have been, in justice, everlastingly banished from the holy temple, and all the means of grace. His smiting upon his heart silently but expressively said, Here lies my guilt, my greatest burden; here are deep fixed the barbed and envenomed arrows of remorse. His short, but solemn and fervent prayer, flew up to heaven, and speedily brought down pardon, so that he went down to his house justified. Do not think his case was a singular one. While you remain on earth, you will need daily to put up the same petition to God. That excellent man, Archbishop Usher, often said, he hoped to die with the language of the publican in his mouth; and the writer of his life tells us his wish was fulfilled; he died, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner.

Behold the penitent prostitute, Luke vii. 37. She goes uncalled into the house of Simon the pharisee, to carry her broken heart and her box of ointment to Jesus. Had she continued in her old course of sin, instead of seeking Christ, she would have shunned him, saying, with the devils, Art thou come to torment me? "But now," as Bishop Hall observes, "those eyes, which had been fires of lusts, are become fountains of tears; and those hairs, which had been nets to catch her wanton lovers, are made a towel to wipe her Redeemer's feet.", And though Simon murmured, the meek and merciful Saviour said, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven her. In the last two instances, humility and penitence are set in a more striking light by being opposed to the disgusting pride, presumption, and uncharitableness of the self-righteous Pharisees.

I might easily produce many more examples, but I shall only mention one. Hear the confession of that well-known penitent, the Earl of Rochester, who had been a worthless profligate. On his death-bed he cried out, "O blessed God, can such a horrid creature as I am be accepted by thee, who have denied thy being, and contemned thy power? Can there be mercy and pardon for me? Will God own such a wretch as I?" In the midst of his sickness he said still farther, "Shall the unspeakable joys of heaven be conferred upon me? O mighty Saviour, never but through thine infinite love and satisfaction! 0, never, but by the purchase of thy blood!" Adding, that with all abhorrence he reflected upon his former life; that from his heart he repented of all that folly and madness of which he had been guilty.

And now, reader, ask yourself, as in the sight of God, whether you know any thing of this godly sorrow. Has your heart been touched and dissolved by the goodness of God? Have you, like David, cast your soul at the footstool of Jehovah ? Have you smitten your guilty bosom like the publican? Have you sighed and wept over your transgressions, and prayed as in an agony for pardon and peace? Be assured, repentance is no such light thing as many have supposed. The bars of unbelief and prejudice must be broken, and the heart of stone turned into a heart of flesh. Think not a few words of confession, or drops of grief, are all that is required. The conscience once softened, must never lose its tenderness. Till we cease from sinning, the stream of repentance must not cease from flowing. "Tears," said Bishop Hopkins, " are the inheritance of our eyes; either our sufferings call for them, or our sins; and nothing can wholly dry them up but the dust of the grave."

3. Repentance is deep self-abhorrence. When the covetous and wretched Achan, who was a troubler of Israel, was detected by lot, Joshua said to him, "My son, give, I pray thee, glory to the Lord God of Israel, and make confession to him; and tell me now what thou hast done; hide it not from me." Josh. vii. 19. It is no easy matter to bring down the proud looks and high thoughts of vain man. Very few are willing to give glory to God, and take shame to themselves. No sooner, however, does a man come to his right mind, than his self-flattering notions vanish. Instead of boasting, he lays his hand upon his mouth, and bows his soul to the dust before the most high God. While he views his sins, he is abased and confounded with a consideration of their number, their greatness, and their consequences.

Ist. The penitent is abased and confounded with a view of the number of his sins.

He looks back, and sees what negligence, ingratitude, and rebellion have run through the years of his past life. He looks within, and sees legions of vain thoughts, thick as motes in the sun, and shoals of hateful lusts and vicious passions, working as in a troubled sea. He finds he has been adding folly to folly, and sin to sin, till his guilt rises as a mountain, and shuts out the prospect of heaven. He owns that the corruption of his nature has been pouring forth, without ceasing, streams of actual transgression and abomination, from the beginning of life to the present moment. How sincerely then can he adopt the words of the Psalmist, " My iniquities have taken hold upon me, so that I am not able to look up : they are more than the hairs of my head; therefore my heart faileth me." Psal. xl. 12.

Do you exclaim, it is not so with me. Perhaps you fix your thoughts on two or three glaring crimes, and, overlooking the rest, think your sins are but few. To remove your error, let me desire you to consider for a moment the sins of the tongue only. Even in this little member you will find a world of iniquity. Not only for every oath, and every lie, but also for every idle word, men must give an account to God. And "if," as the pious Bishop Beveridge observes, "all our vain and idle words had been written, how many vast volumes would they make!" Who then can number the millions and millions of his sins, in thought, speech, and conduct? It is well for us, that the free gift is of many offences unto justification of life. However great the sum of our transgressions, the multitude of God's mercies is still greater. Though the catalogue of our sins were long enough to reach from earth to heaven, the ample roll of new-covenant blessings would stretch beyond it. Where sin abounded, grace does much more abound.

2d. The penitent is abased and confounded with a view of the greatness of his sins.

We must not be guided by the loose prevailing opinions of the world. The worst men have generally the least sense of the heinousness or evil of sin. If the prisoner, who is tried for his crimes, were to fix the measure of his guilt, rather than the judge set to enforce the laws, who would be condemned or punished? Now let it be remembered, every sin is blamable just in the degree that it opposes the truth, holiness, and goodness of God. Suppose you saw a man go up to a just and amiable prince, and begin to revile him in abusive language, spit in his face out of contempt, and strike him with malice, would you not reckon such conduct highly blamable? But should you be told, that the same person had received from the prince, whom he so reviled and injured, a thousand favours, would you not think him a monster of ingratitude and wickedness ? And let it be considered, that God is the glorious King of kings, your Creator and Preserver, who has loaded you with benefits all your life. Every wicked deed, every profane word, and every vile thought, casts contempt upon the Majesty of heaven. The bold transgressor is up in arms of rebellion against God, and is continually either opposing his authority, or trampling on his goodness. Who then can describe the horrid nature and heinous evil of sin? The infinitely holy and glorious Jehovah himself says, O do not that abominable thing which my soul hateth! He has given us his law, "That sin by the com