to be the reproach of men, and the outcast of my people; I who have nothing praise worthy, according even to the opinion of the world, but the good fortune of having concealed from it my infamy and my weaknesses; I to whom the most biting reproaches would still be too gentle, and indulgent; I, in a word, who have no salvation now to hope, if thou forgettest not thine own glory, which I have so often insulted!

But no, great God! thy glory is in pardoning the sinner, and mine shall be in forgiving my brother. Accept, O Lord, this sacrifice which I make to thee of my resentments. Estimate not its value by the slightness of the injuries which I forget, but by that pride which had magnified them, and had rendered me so feeling to them. And, seeing thou hast promised to forgive us our trespasses when we shall have forgiven the trespasses of our brethren; fulfil, O Lord, thy promises. It is in this hope that I presume to reckon upon Thine eternal mercies.

SERMON XV.

THE WOMAN WHO WAS A SINNER.

LUKE vii. 37.

And behold a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster-box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind Him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.

FROM tears so abundant, a confusion so sincere, and a proceeding so humiliating and uncommon; it may easi ly be comprehended, how great must once have been the influence of the passions over the heart of this sinner, and what grace now operates within her. Palestine had long beheld her as the shame and reproach of the city; the Pharisee's household this day beholds her as the glory of grace, and a model of penitence: What a change, and what a spectacle!

Now, behold the important instruction held out jo us in the conversion of this sinner! Her sin comprised several disorders: In the first place, An iniquitous use of her heart, which had never been taken up but with created beings. Secondly, A criminal abuse of all natural gifts, which she had made the instruments of her pas. sions: Thirdly, A shameful abasement of her senses, which she had always made contribute to her voluptuousness, and ignominy: Lastly, An universal scandal in. the notoriety of her errors. Her penitence makes reparation for all these disorders: all, consequently, are forgiven, for nothing is neglected in the repentance.

I say, In the first place, an iniquitous use of her heart. Yes, my brethren, every love, which has for its object only the creature, degrades our heart: it is a disorder, to love for itself that which can neither be our happiness nor our perfection, nor, consequently, our ease. For to love, is to seek our felicity in that which we love; it is the hope of finding in the object beloved, whatever is wanting to our heart; it is the calling it to aid against that shocking void which we feel within ourselves, in the confidence that they will be able to fill it: to love, is to look upon the object beloved as our resource against all our wants, the cure of all our evils, and the author of all our good. Now, as it is in God alone that we can find all these advantages, it is a disorder, and a debasement of the heart, to seek for them in a vile creature.

And, at the bottom of our hearts we feel sensibly ourselves the injustice of that love: however passionate it be, we quickly discover in the beings which inspire it, weaknesses and defects which render them unworthy of it: we soon find them out to be unjust, fanciful, false,

vain, and inconstant: the deeper we examine them, the more we say to ourselves, that our heart has been deceived, and that this is not the object which it sought. Our reason inwardly blushes at the weakness of our passion; we no longer submit to our chains, but with pain; our passion becomes our burden and our punishment. But punished, without being undeceived in our error, we seek, in a change, a remedy for our mistake : we wander from object to object, and if some one at last happen to fix us, it is not that we are satisfied with our choice, but that we are tired of our inconstancy.

The sinner of whom we are speaking, had wandered in these paths iniquitous love had been the cause of all her misfortunes, and of all her crimes; and, born to love God alone, He alone it was whom she had never loved. But scarcely hath she known him, says the gospel, when blushing at the meanness of her former passions, she acknowledges him alone to be worthy of her heart; in created beings, every thing appears to her empty, false, and disgusting: far from finding those charms, from which her heart had formerly with such difficulty defended itself; she now sees in them, only their frivolity, their danger, and their vanity. The Lord alone, in her sight, appears good, real, faithful, constant to his promises, magnificent in his gifts, true in his affection, indulgent even in his anger; alone sufficiently great to fill the whole immensity of our heart; alone sufficiently powerful to satisfy all its desires; alone sufficiently generous to soften all its distresses; alone immortal, and who shall forever be loved: lastly, to love whom, can be followed by no other repentance than that of having loved him too late.

It is love therefore, my brethren, which makes true

penitents For penitence is only a changing of the heart; and the heart does not change, but in changing its love penitence is only the re-establishment of order. in man; and man is only in order when he loves the Lord, for whom he is made; penitence is only a reconciliation with God; and your reconciliation is fictitious, if you do not restore to him your heart; in a word, penitence obtains the remission of sins, and sins are remitted only in proportion to our love.

Let us no longer hear then, my brethren, when we hold out these great examples for your imitation, that you do not feel yourselves born for devotion, and that your heart is of such a nature, that every thing which is demominated piety, is disagreeable to it. What, my dear hearer, your heart is not made for loving its God! Your heart is not made for the Creator who hath given, it to you! What You are born then for vanity and falsehood! Has your heart, so great, so exalted, and which nothing here below can satisfy, been bestowed on you, merely for pleasures which weary you, for creatures which deceive you, for honours which embarrass you, and for a world which tires or disgusts you? And shall. God alone, for whom you are made, and who hath made you what you are, find nothing for himself in the principle of your being? Ah! You are unjust towards your own heart: You know not yourself, and you take your corruption for yourself. And indeed, if not born for virtue, what can be the melancholy mystery of your lot? For what are you born? What a chimera then are you among men? You are born it would seem, only for remorse, and gloomy care! Has the author of your being drawn you from nothing, only to ren der you miserable? Are you gifted with a heart, only