SERMON XXXVI.

ARROWS SHARP IN THE HEART OF ENEMIES.

Ps. XLV. 5.

Thine arrows are sharp in the heart of the King's enemies, whereby the people fall under thee.

While tyrants are wading to empire through the blood of slaughtered armies, and marching to the music of a nation's groans, there is a Conquerer of a far different sort. He too has his arrows and his two-edged sword, and goes "forth conquering and to conquer;" but his track is not marked with desolation and wo;-his course is not proclaimed by the cries of widows and orphans. Mercy is perched upon his standard, and in his van marches salvation. He wounds but to heal, and kills but to make alive. "On his head" are "many crowns,-and his name is called, The Word of God." When the Gospel was sent forth, then this glorious Conqueror girded his sword upon his thigh, according to the prayer in our context: "Gird thy sword upon

place in the case of adults. If then you can keep from anxiety and prayer, you can probably keep from regeneration.

In regard to the third wish, viz. that God would give you the true religion without your seeking it at all, that is, while your mind is too indifferent to seek it, while your heart is wholly engrossed by other objects; this is a wish as presumptuous as it is vain. Since the fall of man, no mind so stupid ever received the true religion, and none ever will, as we have every reason to believe. I admit that there is no true seeking till the heart is changed, and that this grace is in every instance bestowed on those who never properly sought it. But this does not lessen the unreasonableness of the careless sinner, who, with arms of rebellion in his hands, stupidly wishes God to bestow upon him an infinite blessing without an effort or an anxious feeling on his part.

Thus it appears that your four wishes are all unreasonable, and equally unreasonable are the complaints which those wishes suggest. Your murmurs against God and against the doctrines of his word, are only the selfish cavils of an interested party. You have no cause of complaint. God is in the right and you are in the wrong. Admit this conviction, I beseech you. Take all the shame and blame to yourself and clear your Maker. And under a deep conviction of the rectitude of his ways and the unrighteousnes of your own, go and cast yourself at his feet and take refuge in his boundless mercy.

SERMON XXXV.

CAN THESE BONES LIVE?

EZEK, XXXVII. 3.

And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live? and I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest.

Can these bones live? When this question was put to Ezekiel he was standing in vision by a valley full of bones,-bones that were "very dry" and scattered abroad. To the eye of reason it appeared impossible that bone should ever come to its bone, that sinews and flesh should be gathered upon them, that breath should enter into them, and that they should stand "up upon their feet an exceeding great army." He saw nothing in the bones, nothing in himself, nothing in the whole creation that could produce this change. When therefore God put the question to him, "Son of man, can these bones live ?" what could he answer but, "O Lord God, thou knowest"? Thou only canst proVOL. II.

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duce this change; thou only knowest whether it will be done.

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This valley of bones represented the whole house of Israel in Babylon, dead to all hope, and most of them dead in sin; whom God intended to raise to holiness and restore to the land of their fathers, and to whom he directed the vision to be thus explained: "Ye shall know that I am the Lord when I have opened your graves,—and shall put my Spiand you, ye shall live, and I shall place you in your own land." Placing them in their own land, was only setting them up in the world after they were made alive; their resurrection consisted in rising from the death of sin by the power of the Holy Spirit. The vision therefore illustrates the natural condition of men in general, "dead in trespasses and sins" and cut off from hope, and their resurrection to spiritual life by the power of God.

Methinks I am standing to-day on the margin of a valley full of dry bones,-the bones of my kindred, at whose death my tears have often flowed. As I bend over the remains of those dear to me and mourn the wide desolation, I perceive the bones to be very dry. I see them disjointed and scattered through the valley in ruinous disorder. While I stand fixed in grief, a whisper comes from heaven, "Son of man, can these bones live?" I start at the joyous sound. I look at the valley again. To the eye of reason such an event seems impossible. The whisper swells upon my ear, “Son of man, can these bones live?" Agitated with hope and fear, and certain on whom the event depends,

what can I answer but, "O Lord God, thou knowest"?

Can these souls that are dead in trespasses and sins, ever be revived? If they cannot, they must soon sink into the eternal death. They must burn in unquenchable fire. Can they not be raised?They might be formed into beings capable of inconceivable and endless enjoyment,- capable of everlasting service and praise. Precious in our eyes is their very dust. What pity that such materials should be worse than lost, and made fuel for the flames that shall consume others. It is a loss great enough to fill a world with tears. Can they not be raised? This question must soon be decided. The ground is already rocking under them. Whatever is done must be done quickly. Can they be raised?

Their death is their own fault. It is the death of sin,-of supreme selfishness and pride armed against the government of God, against the dying love of Christ, against the rights and interests of the universe. It is such a death as deserves eternal reprobation,-as crushes them under mountains of guilt, as makes them odious in the sight of God, mere masses of putrefaction. Can they not be raised from this disgraceful death?

To the eye of reason I confess the case appears hopeless. As desirable as such an event is,-as distressing as it is to see our kindred lie among the slain,-sense and reason must forever despair.Their death consists in strong opposition to life and to all the means of restoring life; and yet they can

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