and uncertain but the next surge may hurt them into the ocean of destruction, they cannot but be weary. In fine, these of an opposite character either think little about eternity, or reckon themselves prepared for it. They have established a righteousness of their own, or trust to the general mercy of God. Having fasted twice a week, they are disposed to say, with the Pharisee, "God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers; or even as this publican:" or with the young man, "all these things have I kept from my youth up." I pray to God, do good to my neighbour, and injure no man; and I have no doubt of future acceptance and eternal reward. Like these, the weary in the text once thought themselves possessed of a righteousness of their own, enough to cover and cherish every part. Having wrought it out, they tried it on as a robe; but to their sad disappointment, instead of finding it like the clean garment of salvation, or the seamless robe of righteousness, sufficient to defend and adorn, they found it only filthy rags. Viewing themselves in the mirror of the law, covered with their own righteousness; instead of easing the smart, the sight filled them with horror and made them more weary. Though disappointed when they tried it on in the day-time, they fondly thought it might ease their pain in the darkness and silence of the night. Here, too, they were sadly deceived. Stretching themselves on it, they found it too short; and from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot it made every member awfully weary. But, had their pain been tolerable, (as it was not) their covering was unspeakably too narrow. Thus, neither day nor night, can they enjoy a moment's ease; and how can they but be weary! 2. The weary may be known from other branches of the same character. As the careless and unconcerned are variously described, so are awakened sinners, and afflicted saints. These descriptions are characteristic of the weary. They labour and are heavy laden. Nothing is more calculated to make one weary than an insupportable load. They are sinners. They have got a discovery of their guilt, feel it a burden too heavy, and are ready to sink under it. They commonly have many other burdens. They are loaded with affliction, and tossed with temptation. Their way, too, is difficult, and dangerous, and this makes them weary. They are poor in spirit and self-emptied. Formerly they trusted in themselves, but "the commandment came, sin revived, and they died." Now they see nothing about themselves that can either afford them the least ease at present, or ground to hope for it at any future period. Thus overwhelmed and in perplexity, they cry, all refuge failed me, and no man cared for my soul. They are hungry and thirsty. These sensations in the extreme, must make them weary. Hotly pursued by the law, and the terrors of the Lord, they thirst for water, and there is none. Far off in a distant country, like the prodigal, they hunger, and fain would eat; but they can have no bread. In extreme want they would fill their bellies with the husks that the swine did eat; and no man gave unto them. But, should they receive the husks, like some roots they would neither satisfy their hunger nor abate their pain; or rather. and uncertain but the next surge may hurl them into the ocean of destruction, they cannot but be weary. In fine, these of an opposite character either think little about eternity, or reckon themselves prepared for it. They have established a righteousness of their own, or trust to the general mercy of God. Having fasted twice a week, they are disposed to say, with the Pharisee, "God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers; or even as this publican:" or with the young man, "all these things have I kept from my youth up." I pray to God, do good to my neighbour, and injure no man; and I have no doubt of future acceptance and eternal reward. Like these, the weary in the text once thought themselves possessed of a righteousness of their own, enough to cover and cherish every part. Having wrought it out, they tried it on as a robe; but to their sad disappointment, instead of finding it like the clean garment of salvation, or the seamless robe of righteousness, sufficient to defend and adorn, they found it only filthy rags. Viewing themselves in the mirror of the law, covered with their own righteousness; instead of easing the smart, the sight filled them with horror and made them more weary. Though disappointed when they tried it on in the day-time, they fondly thought it might ease their pain in the darkness and silence of the night. Here, too, they were sadly deceived. Stretching themselves on it, they found it too short; and from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot it made every member awfully weary. But, had their pain been tolerable, (as it was not) their covering was unspeakably too narrow. Thus, neither day nor night, can they enjoy a moment's ease; and how can they but be weary! 2. The weary may be known from other branches of the same character. As the careless and unconcerned are variously described, so are awakened sinners, and afflicted saints. These descriptions are characteristic of the weary. They labour and are heavy laden. Nothing is more calculated to make one weary than an insupportable load. They are sinners. They have got a discovery of their guilt, feel it a burden too heavy, and are ready to sink under it. They commonly have many other burdens. They are loaded with affliction, and tossed with temptation. Their way, too, is difficult, and dangerous, and this makes them weary. They are poor in spirit and self-emptied. Formerly they trusted in themselves, but the commandment came, sin revived, and they died." Now they see nothing about themselves that can either afford them the least ease at present, or ground to hope for it at any future period. Thus overwhelmed and in perplexity, they cry, all refuge failed me, and no man cared for my soul. They are hungry and thirsty. These sensations in the extreme, must make them weary. Hotly pursued by the law, and the terrors of the Lord, they thirst for water, and there is none. Far off in a distant country, like the prodigal, they hunger, and fain would eat; but they can have no bread. In extreme want they would fill their bellies with the husks that the swine did eat; and no man gave unto them. But, should they receive the husks, like some roots they would neither satisfy their hunger nor abate their pain; or rather. like others, prove poisonous and destructive. What a sad state! They have no bread and no husks; are pined with hunger and have nothing to satisfy their wants. They are prisoners in a pit where there is no water. They feel their prison and their chains. They are hemmed in by the law, and the curse of God. They are condemned and bound with strong fetters. A cruel jailer waits their execution. Their tongue faileth for thirst, but their pit yields no water. True, they are prisoners of hope; but they have not as yet felt the dew of Divine grace descending to solace their hearts. They are like poor criminals already condemned, and the gibbet erected-their execution determined, and the time uncertain, but wholly depending on the will of a Judge justly and highly incensed. In this situation they are represented as willing to give every thing they have for relief, and much more than they ever had were it possible. In the language of Micah vi. 6, 7, they say, "Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before the high God? Shall I come before him with burnt-offerings, with calves of a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul ?” 3. They are weary through great pressures which they presently feel. It is impossible to name all their pressures, or represent the weight of a single one. There is more weight in one sin, when the conscience is awakened, than men or angels can express. What then must be the pressures of innumerable evils, |
