than from the nature of the thing it can possibly have. But this is founded on extremely erroneous notions, inasmuch as God is never in anger, and forgiveness must be regarded, not as a change in God, but as a change in man. Little as we can deny that God disapproves, when man transgresses the Divine precepts, yet as little ought we to believe that he is angered, that he is filled with wrath and vengeful feelings against man, and that he is not inclined to forgive him, and to take away the punishments, as far as the happiness of man himself permits. For the injunctions and commandments, which God has given to the world and to us man, are not given for his own sake, but for our happiness. He is not made happier by the observance, nor less happy by the violation of them; for his blessedness is independent of the world. When man transgresses them, he injures only himself; and, therefore, is not an object of hatred and condemnation, but of regret and compassion, like the unfortunate, who does not regard the warning voice of a friend. Here also the image of a father teaches us the truest conceptions. As a wise father enjoins nothing to his child but what is profitable for the child itself; as he must pity him if he offends against his injunctions and injures himself; as his corrections serve only to make the evil consequences the more sensibly felt, and to warn the child the more strictly against a similar trans

gression; as also he is disposed immediately and heartily to forgive the repentant and intreating child, and to remove the discretionary punishment, which he had added to the natural consequences; so it is with us men and God. When man transgresses a command of God, he violates a precept, which God gave him for his benefit, he does injury to himself, he draws upon himself the prejudicial consequences which are more or less connected therewith, and prepares his own misfortunes and his own punishment. But God delights in this punishment as little, as he is inflamed with passion against men; on the contrary, the only sensation which we may attribute to God, is compassion, regret, and a wish that man should be converted and become wiser; and if this takes place, if a man confesses the sins he has committed, if he purposes to forsake them, if he is really resolved to avoid them, and gives proofs of his amendment; God is well pleased with this change, and it is scarcely necessary for a man to implore forgiveness, because God, who knows the heart, already and before his intreaty, had forgiven him. Yes, we can and indeed must maintain, that on such occasions no change is effected in God, but only in man; for God, the immutable, is always inclined to forgive; and it is only requisite for man to be convinced of this disposition, and to manifest a genuine reformation.

These are the representations which reason gives us of the forgiveness of sins and the manner of obtaining it, and which alone are acknowledged by her as correct, unless God is to be thought imperfect, and actuated by human passions. In this view of the subject the instruction of the Gospel, and Christ himself, who has imparted to us the truest notions of God, coincide. Although our human language, and consequently Holy Writ which is composed in this language, cannot speak of God otherwise than with expressions which properly and with truth can only be spoken of man; yet Christ is so far from applying the expressions of anger and revenge to God, that he rather attributes to him feelings of benevolence and love; and, on the subject of the conversion of man especially, he is so far from encouraging this idea, that he rather attributes to him only the sensation of compassion and pity, and describes him as invariably disposed to forgive man, and to assure him of his gracious and pardoning inclination.

We have a narrative of his in reference to this point, which may supply the place of all direct instruction; I mean the story of the lost and returning son. Since this narrative exhibits in the most correct view in all its parts the manner in which forgiveness is sought and obtained, and as this instruction proceeds from the mouth of Jesus himself, permit me shortly to mention it.

When the Prodigal, disregarding the warnings and advice of his father, had plunged himself into a state of misery, which he was no longer able to bear; when now at last sensible of his folly he repented, and took a resolution to return to his father and solicit forgiveness; how does Christ pourtray this father, by whom God is signified? Does he let the son intreat long for pardon and without success? Does the father in his anger overwhelm him with indignant reproaches for his ingratitude? Does he leave him in the agonizing doubt, whether he shall find favour, or must return again to his wretchedness? Or must he seek an intercessor, who may soften the heart of the father and incline him to forgiveness? Nothing of all this. The tender father's heart, as our Saviour paints him, was never turned from his son; he ever felt his folly, and cherished the warmest sympathy for him. Apprehensive of the distress into which he had thrown himself, fearful only that he was for ever lost, and constantly wishing his restoration, he hastens to meet him on hearing of his actual return, spares him every word of shame and remorse, heaps upon him every mark of tenderness, and is elated with joy that the lost one has returned, and his son supposed to be dead is yet alive. Here is no trace of revenge and anger, here no change is perceptible in the disposition of the father, who at all times entertained for him the tenderest affection. But

so much the greater is the change, which takes place in the mind and sentiments of the son. He fears lest his father should have no pity, and rather be provoked and enraged against him; he doubts whether he shall be able to prevail on him to pardon, and he considers how he may best move his heart to compassion by the most penitent confession and the most modest request, because he dares not hope for so easy a forgiveness for such offences. But how is this apprehension shamed by the father's treatment, whose unchanged heart had ever been constant in its affection; and how the alarm of the son now appears as the natural effect and the just punishment of such conduct!

Thus, my friends, it is with man and his Maker. No change takes place in God, when he forgives, who always continues benevolently inclined towards man, ever pities him when he transgresses his commands, and willingly affords manifestations of his grace as soon as he amends; but man can with difficulty subdue that terror of God, which his condemning conscience creates, and encourage in himself a filial confidence towards him. And this confidence is entirely dependent on the actual improvement of man himself. This must be so from the nature of the thing, and the holy Scripture confirms it. As fear and trembling before God arises from the consciousness of having done wrong and of transgressing his commandments; so this fear must necessarily abate,