be guided by this lamp, But, perhaps, you say,

leads to everlasting life. This is the only compass by which you can steer your course successfully to the haven of eternal rest. Why, oh! why will you not fight with this weapon, and steer by this compass? I accuse you wrongfully; that you do study the Word of God; yea, admire it; yea, praise it; and even contribute to circulate it through the world; alas, if this be all, what will this avail? Recur to our illustration; would admiring the brightness of his sword, or praising the sharpness of its edge, save the soldier in the day of battle, if he did not fight with it? Would admiring the workmanship of the lamp, or praising the brilliance of its light, conduct the traveller in safety, if he did not follow its guidance? or would admiring the construction of the compass, or praising the infallibility of its instructions, bring the mariner to the wished-for haven, if he did not steer by its directing point? and will admiring the composition of the Scriptures, or praising the light that shines in their pages, bring you to heaven, if you are not guided by that light into the only way that leadeth to eternal life? Remember it is the written Word of God alone reveals that way; the Scriptures alone point out the path to heaven. What then is your hope of salvation? on what does it rest? Is it the opinion of man, or the testimony of God? Has your hope a scriptural warrant ? Have you God's revealed word to

sanction it; God's recorded promise to secure it? Can you say of the ground of your confidence, "It is written?" If not, will the despised God of the despised Scriptures acknowledge it? Will the sentence of the judgment-day confirm it? Dare you hope it will? Oh! then, think, ere it be too late, if by neglecting prayerfully to study this blessed book, (which may be considered as a present deity, for is it not the voice of the living God?) you mistake the way of salvation, and instead of building your eternal hopes on the alone immoveable foundation, the rock of ages, Christ crucified, you build on some sandy foundation, some of those refuges of lies which you have learned by tradition from your fathers, and which, through Satan's influence, pass current in his world, (for the world has its unwritten traditions, at variance with the written word,) oh! will it not be unspeakably awful to have passed through life-secure dreaming of heaven-and then the moment death ushers you into the eternal world, to awake from your dream to the horrible certainty that you are irrecoverably lost for ever? I conjure you then, as you would escape that dreadful wakening in eternity, resolve, not in your own strength, but looking up, and lifting up your voice to God in prayer for His strength to enable you to keep the resolution, that you will henceforward spend even half an hour each day in the

retirement of your chamber, with humble dependance on the divine teaching of the Holy Spirit, in the prayerful perusal of the word of God. Do I ask too much? What is half an hour each day too much for you as an immortal being, to spend in seeking to ascertain whether you are to be everlastingly saved or lost whether you are to live for ever with God or Satan; whether you are to spend eternity in heaven or in hell?

SERMON IV.

THE SAVIOUR'S CRUCIFIXION.

PREACHED ON GOOD FRIDAY, 1832.

ST. MATTHEW, xxvii. 25.

"Then answered all the people, and said, His blood be on us, and on our children."

ABOVE eighteen hundred years ago, in the city of Jerusalem, a Roman governor was seated on his tribunal; around him were a multitude of the Jewish priests and people, mingled with Roman soldiers, the most fiend-like expression of rage and scorn flashing from their countenances, and their voices all lifted up together with infuriated frenzy, crying-" crucify him, crucify him!" Before the judgment-seat, in meek majestic silence, stands the object of all this rage, and scorn and imprecation! Behold the Man-a crown of thorns encircles his bleeding brows; a reed in derision, has been placed in his right hand, and a purple robe, in

mockery, flung round him! His shoulders bear the bleeding traces of the lacerating scourge, and his face is covered with the vilest marks of human indignity; for, see! the infuriated populace have buffeted him, and spit upon him! Yet, oh! what a heavenly expression beams over the countenance of the sufferer-a meekness which no insults can ruffle; a compassion which no provocations can extinguish; a peace which no sufferings can disturb. There are tears indeed upon his cheek, but they seem the tears of one, who weeps for the sorrows of others, not his own. Still the wild cry is heard, “crucify him! crucify him!" and still, amidst the frenzy of those fiends in human form, that mysterious man stands calm and silent! There is something strangely awful in that silence; it has filled the heart of the governor with a feeling of fear he can neither understand nor conceal; how agitated seems the judge! how composed the prisoner! False witnesses arraign the silent sufferer, but still he holds his peace! the governor marvels greatly, and, convinced of his innocence, endeavours to release him-but again the wild and frantic cry is heard, "crucify him! crucify him!" again the governor asks shall he release this man or Barabbas; and they all cry out, "not this man, but Barabbas !" Now, Barabbas was a murderer!

Fearing to incense the people, and yet fearing to

E