it even overwhelms all his thoughts, we feel and acknowledge; but that it is contradictory to the plain and undeniable dictates of the human mind, we as strenuously deny. The expedient of mediation is not unusual in the dealings of men one with another. Pardon is often granted through intercession to an offender, to whom otherwise mercy would not have been extended. Recompense hath been made, and differences have as often been reconciled, by the interposition of a common friend of the parties at variance. Why then should the idea of a mediator with God and of an atonement for sin, be considered unreasonable, if in this way, and in no other, apparent to us, equally wise and good, the ends of the divine government are answered, and mercy is shown to a guilty world.

Further, the doctrine is not opposed but supported by the general analogy of God's dealings with men in other respects. Repentance does not of itself avail, even in this world, to prevent the consequences of human follies and of human crimes. And again, all the providential blessings conferred upon us by the Almighty, are com

municated not immediately, but through the instrumentality of others. "The whole economy of the world," observes a philosophic writer, "consists of evils and remedies; and these, for the most part, administered by the instrumentality of intermediate agents." If, moreover, we turn to those ancient systems of religion which so generally prevailed in the world, and which, having been formed in the infancy of society, have in them more of the voice of nature or of primitive tradition, we shall find much which supports the position, that the notion of mediation, between God and man, was not foreign to human sentiments, or repugnant to the reason of mankind. All those systems had their priests and their sacrifices, a circumstance for which infidelity can never account; and the idea of approaching a superior Deity through the medium of another seems to have pervaded them all. But, my brethren, let us appeal to our own natural feelings. What must be the natural sentiments of a reflecting mind when contemplating this subject? Is it so that we feel ourselves in a condition to appear before God, in our own

persons, with confidence? Do we feel no guilt, are we not conscious of fear, have we no misgiving? Let us hear the sentiments of a distinguished modern philosopher upon this subject; one who possessed great knowledge of the human heart, but was in general too little favourable to Christianity. "If," saith he, 66 we consult our natural sentiments, we are even apt to fear, lest before the holiness of God, vice should appear to be more worthy of punishment than the weakness and imperfection of human virtue can ever seem to be of reward. Man, when about to appear before a Being of infinite perfection, can feel but little confidence in his own merit, or in the imperfect propriety of his own conduct. In the presence of his fellow-creatures he may indeed elevate himself, and may often have reason to think highly of his own character and conduct compared to the still greater imperfection of theirs. But the case is quite different when about to appear before his infinite Creator. To such a Being, he fears that his littleness and weakness can scarcely ever appear the proper objects, either of esteem or of reward: but he can easily

conceive, how the numberless violations of duty of which he has been guilty, should render him the proper object of aversion and punishment; and he thinks he can see no reason why the divine indignation should not be let loose without any restraint, upon so vile an insect as he imagines himself to appear to be. If he would still hope for happiness, he suspects that he cannot demand it from the justice, but that he must intreat it from the mercy of God. Repentance, sorrow, humiliation, contrition at the thought of his past conduct, seem, upon this account, the sentiments which become him. He even distrusts the efficacy of all these, and naturally fears lest the wisdom of God should not be prevailed upon to spare the crime, by the most importunate lamentations of the criminal. Some other intercession, some other sacrifice, some other atonement, he imagines must be made for him beyond what he himself is capable of making, before the purity of divine justice can be reconciled to his manifold offences."

These sentiments, my brethren, I think must appear to all, to convey the natural feelings of

a reflecting man, whose mind and whose conscience have been awakened to the subject. And let it never be forgotten, that the doctrines of revelation coincide with these anticipations; and as they teach us how little we can depend upon the imperfection of our own goodness, so they show us at the same time that the most powerful intercession has been made; and that the most awful atonement hath been paid for our manifold transgressions. The conclusion we draw therefore is, that however wonderful, even to amazement, the idea of such an atonement and mediation as are described in Scripture may be, still, they are by no means contradictory to the plain and undeniable dictates of the human mind.

Having offered these remarks in vindication of the doctrine of the atonement of Christ, or the Christian scheme of mediation, it remains for me to show how we conceive it to afford evidence of the truth of our religion. We conceive this doctrine then to do this, by the greatness and extraordinary nature of its design; by the magnitude and the wisdom both of the end and of the means; and above all,