weakness of man confidered, God may favourably accept our endeavours, how imperfect foever our attainments may be. But is this reasoning built on infallible principles? Can any certainty or fecurity arife out of this? any that can give rest or peace to the mind of man, ever inquifitive after futurity? Will you promise impunity to offenders upon repentance? Impunity, mere impunity, is not the thing that nature feeks after: fhe craves fomething more. But can the argument from the divine mercy be carried farther? Is it not great mercy to pardon finners? Can you with decency defire a reward for them? Our Saviour has told us, that, when we have done our beft, we muft ftill own that we are unprofitable fervants: and, if we reflect that all our natural powers are the gift of God, and, consequently, our best services are but a debt paid to the donor; if we confider that in all we do there is no profit to the Moft High, that his power and majefty are not exalted by our fervice, nor leffened by our neglect; we fhall find that our own reafon teaches us the fame leffon, and that, when we confefs ourselves unprofitable fervants, we give greater evidence of our understanding than of our humility. And, if this be truly the case, what are the claims of natural religion? are they not the claims of unprofitable fervants? the claims of those to whom nothing is due ?

Thirdly, let us now take a view of the conditions and promises of the Gofpel, and fee whether we have any reason to be offended at them. As to the laws which are made the conditions of our happi

ness, they are not new impofitions, but as old as reason itself, and the very fame which natural religion ftands bound to obey. Here then can be no complaint, at least no just one. So far then we are quite fafe, that we can be no lofers by the Gospel, fince it lays no new burden on us. In all other respects our case is extremely altered for the better. We feel ourselves eafily tempted to do wrong, and unable to pay the obedience we owe to righteoufnefs. Hopes therefore from our innocence we have none, but are forced to have recourfe to the mercy of God. Now this mercy, which we hope for, the Gospel offers us in the name of God. Have we any reason to fufpect the offer? or to reject that very mercy, when promifed by God, which our own reafon teaches us to expect at his hands?

If we fin, nature has no refuge but in repentance; and how far that will go, we know not: nature has not, cannot teach us this knowledge. From the Gospel we learn, that true repentance fhall never be in vain; fhall not only protect us from punishment, but shall alfo fet open to us the doors of life and immortality. There you may view religion once more restored to its native hope of glory and life for evermore. You will be no longer obliged to wander in the mazes and intricacies of human reason, and to fpeculate upon the attributes of divine mercy and juftice; the limits and boundaries of which are not to be determined by the wit of man, and the contemplation of which abounds with terrors as well as hopes: but you may fee the clear and immutable purpose of God to give falvation to all who, with penitent hearts, and

a firm reliance on his word, endeavour after righteousness.

One would imagine the Gospel should easily find credit with men, when all its promises do fo exactly tally and correspond with the hopes of nature. Has nature any reason to complain of this? Is it an objection to the Gospel, that it has confirmed all your hopes and expectations, that it has given you the security of God's promise to establish the very wifhes of your heart? You truft, you fay, that he who made you ftill retains fome love for you: to convince you that he does, he has fent his well-beloved Son into the world to fave finners. Though you offend, yet you hope on repentance to be forgiven the Gofpel confirms this hope; the terms of it are more beneficial, and convey to true penitents not only hope, but a claim to pardon. But pardon only will not fatisfy: there is still something farther that nature craves, fomething which with unutterable groans fhe pants after, even life and happiness for evermore. She fees all her children go down to the grave: all beyond the grave is to her one wide wafte, a land of doubt and uncertainty : when she looks into it, fhe has her hopes, and she has her fears; and, agitated by the viciffitude of these paffions, fhe finds no ground whereon to reft her foot. How different is the scene which the Gospel opens! There we see the heavenly Canaan, the new Jerufalem; in which city of the great God there are manfions, many manfions, for receiving them, who through faith, and patient continuance in well-doing, feek for glory and immortality. Our bleffed Mafter has abolished death, and re

deemed us into the glorious liberty of the fons of God, that we may dwell in his prefence as long as time itself shall laft.

If we were to form a fyftem of religion for ourfelves that should answer to all our wifhes and defires, what more could we afk for ourselves than what the Gospel has offered? The obedience required of us is the fame to which we are antecedently bound, in virtue of that reafon and understanding which makes us to be men. The promises of the Gospel extend to more than nature could ever claim; they take in all her wishes, establish all her hopes; and they are offered by a hand that is able to make them good.

The conclufion of the whole is, that, fince the religion of a finner must neceffarily be founded in the hopes of mercy; fince these hopes have at beft but uncertain foundation in natural religion, and are liable to be difturbed and fhaken by frequent doubts and misgivings of mind; we have great reafon to blefs and adore the goodness of God, who has openly displayed before our eyes the love that he has for the children of men, by fending his wellbeloved Son into the world, that all who believe in him fhould not perish, but have everlasting life.