ruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not away.' (1 Peter i. 2. 4.) And well may we exclaim, in the triumphant language of St. Paul, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ." (1 Cor. xv. 55-57.)

Let a man reject this Saviour, neglecting or refusing to believe in and obey him, and then he keeps himself beyond the reach of deliverance and rescue. Let him live and die in sin; and then the wrath of God, the curse of the violated law, in all its extent, and in its infinite duration, abideth on him. He falls into unfathomable ruin, from which no arm will ever save him.

But now, christian brethren, the door of salvation and happiness stands open. It is open for every man. "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." Trust wholly in his merits, and cast yourself entirely upon his grace; walk, by his strength, in the way which he has himself marked out; and then you are complete in your omnipotent Redeemer. Life, though it be with its trials, afflictions, and sorrows, is yours :—death, with its calmness, its safety, and its triumph, is yours:—and yours, at the last, that undefiled in

heritance, whereof it is testified by the God of truth, "There shall be no more curse!" Whereunto, by thy power and grace, do thou bring us all, O Lord, our strength, and our Redeemer.

53

SERMON III.

MAN'S GUILTY DREAD OF GOD,

AND ITS REMOVAL.

GENESIS iii. 10.

And Adam said, I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid.

WHEN God had ended the creation of the world, he looked down upon the work of his hands, and beheld that "it was very good." All was harmony and order: everything was excellent and perfect in its kind; and throughout the whole race of creatures which had life, there were none that were not happy.

In the midst of this world, so full of goodness and of bliss, there was one creature more excellent and more happy than the rest; one monument of the wisdom, power, and goodness of the Creator which surpassed all others, and was the crown and finish of the whole. Man, formed in the very image of his Maker, stood forth as the dele

gated lord of all around him, and the chosen vessel of God's overflowing love. To this favoured being, the Creator had assigned a body of noble and commanding form; he had breathed into him a rational soul, impressed with pure and upright desires; he had placed him in a paradise stored with whatever could contribute to his enjoyment; and, to complete his gifts, he had granted him the privilege and blessing of friendly intercourse with himself. And thus, by the goodness of the almighty Parent of the universe, the first of our race was created perfect, upright, and happy. He was happy, we may suppose, in a consciousness of the excellencies of his nature:he was happy in looking around, and beholding the several creatures, in their different degrees, enjoying a like felicity-but he was most happy in that the light of God's countenance was lifted up upon him, shedding a bright sunshine on all the other sources of his blessedness. Adam walked in his uprightness before the God who had created him; and, like all other creatures who are faithful in their allegiance and devoted in their service, he welcomed every approach or manifestation of his Lord, and obeyed with supreme delight every indication of his will.

But, at the period to which the words of our text refer, this happiness had been forfeited and

lost. Here we discover some direful effects of the first transgression. No sooner had man dared to disobey the law of his Maker, than, instead of delighting in his presence, he began to dread it: and, as in former times the presence of God had heightened every other pleasure, so now the fear of his approach was enough to draw a cloud over all the joys of paradise. Adam no longer walked abroad in the garden, to seek new fellowship with his adored Creator; but he sought the thicket and the shade, if by any means they might shroud him from the wrath of an offended God! He had grieved his almighty and heavenly Parent; he had forfeited his glorious inheritance; he had merited vengeance, and cursing, and death: and, if such was the judgment to which he had become exposed, and if God was the righteous Judge from whom he might expect it, then how could the guilty creature but feel a dread of his approach? How can we be surprised that, when he heard his voice in the garden, he was indeed afraid? I heard thy voice, but I could no longer hail it as a token of the presence of my friend; I could no longer expect some new communication of mercy, some fresh disclosure of love, or some further promise of happiness; - but I thought upon my sin, and I was afraid; I thought upon thy justice, and I was afraid; I thought upon