his heart, and he could not refrain from
weeping when he viewed the dishonour cast upon his adorable Lord by
these enemies of his cross; when he beheld them following divers lusts
and pleasures, even boasting of their recklessness of God's judgments;
and when he carried his thoughts forward to that day when the terrors
of the Lord would fall on all the children of disobedience, or those
who neglected the great salvation. This spirit is, in fact, no bad
test whereby we may try the state of our hearts and affections. If we
are really desirous for the advancement of God's glory, and deeply
interested in the welfare of our fellow-creatures, our feelings will
be very similar to those of the holy men of God referred to. We shall
not view, without the very deepest concern, that inattention which is
everywhere paid to the solemn requirements of the Almighty; we shall
at least make the attempt to stop the sinner in his career of guilt
and folly, that his soul may be saved from destruction in the day of
the Lord.

Melancholy is the reflection, indeed, that neither God's invitations
on the one hand, nor his threatenings on the other, appear to affect
their hearts; they are neither constrained by love nor fear. "Wide is
the gate, and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many
there be that go in thereat."

There was one that wept over the rebellion of man, and one infinitely
greater than David, or Jeremiah, or St. Paul--and that one was the
ever-adorable Saviour; who, beholding the guilty race of man
altogether gone out of the way, descended from the mansions of glory,
became a partaker of human impurity, and opened through his blood a
new and living way, whereby the guilty sinner might return in peace to
his God. How touching the description of the evangelist--"And when he
came near, he beheld the city and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst
known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong
unto thy peace, but now they are hid from thine eyes." Jesus wept at
the grave of Lazarus, for Lazarus was his friend; he sympathised
deeply with Martha and Mary, for he loved them as he did their
brother; but far more bitter were the tears he shed, when he reflected
on the waywardness of that people whom he would have gathered to
himself; the guilt of that city which had killed the prophets; when he
thought of those days of divine vengeance, when its enemies should
cast a trench about it, and compass it round, a