tender and his soul more benevolent. Hence he is represented as moved by the entreaties of his people, and is said to avenge his elect, who cry day and night unto him. How can such a being have any pleasure in the miseries of the damned? But when we see

III. Such great expectations disappointed, the doctrine of the text is still more firmly established. The sinner on whom we have fixed our eye, was born perhaps a child of promise. Over his very cradle his parents planning his future course, imagined that they saw opening before him a luminous and useful track. They assigned him first earthly distinctions, and then a crown of life. Perhaps he was the subject of many prayers, and consequently of many hopes. As he advanced in his course there kindled up great expectations in his own breast; he set out to be great below and greater still above. Perhaps his early life promised much, and his hopes far outwent his prospects. His friends and neighbours had their expectations raised it may be to an amazing height. And in the mean time his Maker, (for his property in us must not be forgotten) had a right to calculate on his future usefulness and greatness. He had made him a noble spirit, furnished him with abundant light and means, and watched his opening genius with more than paternal solicitude. He had formed him fit for the noblest service, and why had he not a right to calculate on his future greatness? I do not mean that God could be disappointed or could be grieved, in the sense that we may, but the Scriptures do warrant us to say in reference to a case like this, "It repented God that he had made man upon the earth and it grieved him to his heart." How dreadful that man should so convery duct himself as to extort a sigh like this from the bosom of his Maker, thus, as it were, defeating the great end

of his being, and laying prostrate every hope that hung upon his existence.

Now view the man in misery, and see all these expectations lost, and for a moment weep over him. He meant to wear a crown, but found a halter; he aspired to a throne, but reached a gibbet; he hoped for heaven, but sunk to hell. He intended to be an heir of God, but inherited everlasting burnings. He aspired to become an angel of light but became a fiend of darkness. How dreadful to see such hopes withered, such reasonable expectations blighted by the frosts of the second death. How can there be in such an object any thing that can fill the heart of God with pleasure? Were it the seat of malevolence instead of mercy, it could hardly fail to weep over such costly ruins. The unexpected extinction of a thousand suns, would not exhibit equal hopes extinguished. God could light a thousand more and thus repair the breach; but souls he never will annihilate, nor build again their ruins; then how can God have any pleasure in the death of him that dieth?

IV. We contemplate him again with still deeper regret to see such useful talents lost.-View some great man now in torment. While on earth his spirit, although cumbered with a dying body, exhibited amazing enterprise. He could count the stars and measure the diameter and distance of every planet. He could conceive the noblest projects, and trace to its final result every enterprise. Now free such a soul from its cumbrous clay, give it angel's wings, light well its track, let its powers grow and enlarge through eternity, and what could it not achieve? Conceive of Locke or Newton now in hell, after exploring every labyrinth of the moral and the physical world. Or if men so heavenly in contemplation may not be mentioned in connection with

hell; think of Hume, and Voltaire, and Bolingbroke, men of noble minds, but who hated the Son of God. See them in torment. Had they been as good as they were great, how useful! And must their gigantic minds dwindle to the stature of a dwarf, and only be to be degraded! What a pity! What an evil! What a loss ! What a loss to themselves! Their greatness but prepares them to be miserable, while it might have made them happy. What a loss to all heaven! There their noble spirits would have found employments suited to their nature. What noble projects of holy ambition might they have originated! What inspiration might such spirits have breathed into the songs of heaven! What new discoveries of God and truth might they have made in the clear light of that celestial world! What anthems might they have invented! What strains of Hallelujah! How a soul, so noble in its structure, could swell and sweeten the music of the heavenly choir! Imagine it redeemed from hell, and joined to the choir of heaven, as a soft sweet viol, tuned to please an angel's ear, and swelling every note it sings to the sweetest, softest melody, and what a pity, that such a viol should be converted into fuel, and feed the fires of the pit. And if you suppose every spirit of equal dimension, and differing only in the structure of its clay organs; then suppose that the ten thousands who have gone to despair are ransomed and joined as so many well-tuned instruments to the music of that happy world, and what a revenue of praise would redound to God? Who can view the subject in this light and not feel pained that souls must perish? "Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people." Oh, the cursed tragedy of the fall,

which placed noble spirits where they are utterly lost For they can be of no use to each other in the place of misery. "Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not go unpunished." Were there accumulated in hell all the noblest talents of the created universe, they could not escape the hand of justice. They could neither bridge the gulf that partitions hell from heaven, nor extinguish the fires that consume them. So satisfied of this was the rich man, that he begged he might never see his brethren in that place of torment. If then the noblest talents would be useless in hell, and could be so well employed in heaven, what a loss is the damnation of a soul? And why will not the loss, although it would have been a greater loss to save them, impenitent, be felt forever? If any government should be under the necessity of imprisoning for life its noblest geniuses, would not the loss be felt and be deplored by the very monarch who barred their prison. Yes, and God will be sensible forever of the loss of talents in perdition, and will forever view that world as a dark spot in his creation, although rendering the remainder more beautiful. How then can he have any pleasure at all in the death of him that dieth? And we shall be convinced of this truth when we have taken one more view of the lost sinner and see

V. Such a noble vessel polluted. He was calculated to be a vessel of honour, prepared unto glory, and might have been the everlasting recipient of eternal mercy. How largely might he have received the overflowings of infinite benevolence! And if the soul had perpetually enlarged, and been kept full of love and joy and peace, what a rich and lovely treasure would such a spirit have been? Angels would pay respect to such a soul, and God himself would be pleased. But the vessel is polluted

"The gold has become dim and the most fine gold changed." If you should see a golden goblet filled with the defilements of a sink, how incongruous! how repulsive to the sight! But how much more disgusting to see a heaven-born soul filled with the corruptions of sin! If it should be our destiny to be lost we shall be forever disgusted at ourselves; and angels and God will view us with eternal loathing; devils, our companions in misery, will despise us and themselves much more. The lost spirit will be the most filthy object in the universe. God will be forever happy, but his joy, his life, his pleasure, must be in other objects; and if the deity may not be pained, so neither may he be pleased with the scenes of the pit; and will he not cover it with a cloud of smoke which shall obscure its defilements from the vision of the blessed?

Remarks.-1. God will not damn any who do not oblige him to do so in order to secure the honour of his name and kingdom: judgment is his strange work. If he takes no pleasure at all in the death of him that dieth, how can we believe that any will perish whose eternal ruin is not necessary to show the justice, the truth, and the holiness of God, to vindicate his law, or honour his government? None, then, of my readers will perish but such as make themselves vile, and continue obstinately disobedient, resisting the influences of the Holy Spirit, till God gives them up to their own hearts' lusts, and swears in his wrath that they shall not enter into his rest. And even such he will spare as long as the good of his holy kingdom will permit.

2. Hence we see why sinners who will finally be lost are so long kept out of hell. God abhors the work of destruction, and will spare them till there is no hope of their repentance, and even when hope is gone, may spare