when God sets them in order before sinners? Looking over their lives, the weary see every period filled with guilt. The acts of sin are as the sand on the sea shore, and the aggravations innumerable. Once they made light of the divine curse; but now they feel it a weighty pressure. They know it to be as great a reality as any sensible object, and more terrible in its nature and effects than a thousand temporal deaths in the most formidable shape. The highest gibbet or hottest furnace would be reckoned tolerable, could they be delivered from the curse. But this they scarcely reckon possible. Often they try to forget it, or shake it off; but it cleaves to them as the shadow to the body. Alone and in company, rising up and lying down, the hand writing of the curse is seen, and these words, terrible as thunder, fill their ears, “Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them." They know that, if not delivered, the inevitable consequence will be " Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels." The accusations of conscience are an heavy pressure. Acting for the Judge, it cites the person, and reads the indictment, urges the demerit, and passes sentence without mercy. Their hearts condemn them. Wherever they go they carry along with them a crime and a court, a witness and a judge, the sentence and punishment. They are oppressed by the power and prevalence of sin. One would be ready to think that, when so affected with the guilt and danger of sin, if they could not atone for the past, they would offend no more. But sin is too

powerful to be interrupted by the fears of destruction. The enmity of the old man at the law of God is too great to desist on hearing the threatenings. At the very moment the sinner is reviewing his guilt, sin is active, and increases the sum already incalculable. In this situation, often sins of the deepest dye are committed. The heinous sin of unbelief, which rejects the counsel of God and his great salvation, prevails and is indulged. Satan is most diligent at such a crisis. It is impossible to conceive or express with what cruelty and assiduity he harasses. When lulled in security and false peace he did not disturb them. Now when they are awakened, he exerts himself to the utmost to aggravate their pain. If conscience forebodes fears, he makes them sevenfold. Would the weary indulge a single thought of mercy, he suggests that it is impossible to obtain it, and presumption to expect it. Were matters assuming a more favourable aspect, he casts another fiery dart and torments them. Under all these pressures, God's threatenings are familiar, and his promises seldom recollected his arrows stick fast, and drink up their spirits, and they cannot but be weary!

4. They are weary through sore fighting after relief. Burdened with the pressures already named, they struggle hard for deliverance. Like the strong man in the agonies of death, they lay about them, and their own exertions make them weary. This struggle includes every attempt which awakened sinners make for relief. They go about to establish a righteousness of their own. They pray and vow. They aim at duties and enter into resolutions. Every thing

about their own righteousness is calculated to make them weary. It is burdensome to work it out; and when well advanced, it is insignificant and of no avail. All their vows and resolutions are like Samson's cords before the sinful heart. They frequently repeat them, and are always disappointed. Their hearts are pained with deep convictions of their sin and misery. They feel the spirit of bondage, and have much anguish and terror. So wedded are men to sin and a legal method of deliverance, that they often need to be shaken over hell to divorce their hearts from their own righteousness. With some these courses are of longer, and with others of shorter, duration. Following them, sinners truly weary themselves for very vanity,

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5. They are weary through fears that matters will never be better. Disappointed in all their past attempts, they look forward, and guess and fear. Their want of success in former endeavours seems to justify their desponding apprehensions. In this situation their fears are numerous as the actings of the mind, and succeed one another as the harassed soul diversifies its object. If they think of God, they believe that he is a just God, but are unable to conceive how he can be their Saviour. They are satisfied that he will by no means clear the guilty, and that he is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, Turning their attention to the law, they see it broad, in full force, and inflexible. It insists on perfection, and condemns the least failure. With the highest authority, it shows them their transgressions, and pierces their hearts with its sting. If they think of

the threatenings, they believe their veracity, and that they are directly against themselves. If their attention is turned to sin and Satan, they see them enemies, mad, sworn, and unrelenting. Should they for a moment leave all these objects, and once more attend to their own doings; what can they do which they have not done already? And what success can they now expect when they had none before?

6. They are weary through being near to faint. Already greatly distressed, and apprehending that matters will never be better, it is no wonder that they should be ready to faint. Their past attempts, instead of proving that they have any strength, only discover their weakness. They now feel all God's billows passing over them, and expect every hour to be swallowed up. Should any try to administer consolation, they consider it as too late, and rather shun it. Such kind offices and friendly attempts, instead of comforting their hearts, rather increase their sorrow, as only calculated to discover what others have gained, and they, in their apprehension, have lost. Every thing of this kind is considered as applying a plaister to a sore, when almost the last drop of blood is shed, or talking of scenes of social happiness to the man whose neck is fastened in the fatal rope. They consider such as acting a cruel, instead of a comforting part, and adding affliction to the afflicted. Is consolation then impossible? Sure he would need the tongue of the learned who would try to comfort the heart in such a disconsolate condition! Is such a one to be found? There is ONE, an interpreter, ONE among a thousand who has the tongue of the learned,

and can speak a word in season to him that is weary!

There are others, besides these whom we have now described, who are also weary, and may expect a word in season from him who has the tongue of the learned. These are the saints. They were once in the condition already described; but were shut up to the faith, and mercifully delivered. He who has the tongue of the learned spake a seasonable word, and said, Fear not, I will deliver from going down to the pit, for I have found a ransom: he said, I who speak unto thee am he: I am mighty to save, and your Saviour: be of good cheer, your sins are forgiven. As he thus spake, he opened their ears and hearts to attend. They believed and had great joy. They knew in experience the kindness of youth and love of espousals. Happy days! They saw the Saviour, and bade defiance to their foes. They supped with him, and leaned on his bosom. Duties were their meat and drink, and ordinances the gate of heaven. They went from strength to strength, and did run the way of God's commandments with enlarged hearts. Happy days!-but these are now gone, and the saints again find themselves weary!

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The Lord's people, like awakened sinners, have many things which make them weary. We may specify the following:

1. Sometimes they sin away the Lord's presence, and provoke him to depart. He is holy and jealous; and when his countenance, so essential to the happiness of the soul, is misimproved; it will be withdrawn, at least as to sensible and sweet communion.