silence him, a repulse does not send him away; he will ask again and again, till his entreaties have touched you. And why? The man feels himself starving; he knows that he must have bread or sink. And O what are we, brethren, in the midst of all our comforts? Are we not perishing? Have we not starving and dying souls? Such is our situation, so destitute, so perilous, so awful, that any real prayer for relief must be an earnest prayer. It will be this woman's petition, "Lord, help me." It will be the sinking Peter's cry, "Lord, save me." It will be the appeal of the storm-tossed disciples, "Lord, save us; we perish." It will be the fervent supplication of our own Scriptural Church, "O God, the Father of heaven, have mercy upon us, miserable sinners." 3. But let us go to another grace manifested by this woman-deep humility. are "wretched, and miserable, and poor, II. So much for our commendation of this woman. Let us turn now to our Lord's commendation of her. And it is remarkable that he passes over in silence all that we have admired. He says not one word of her parental love, or earnestness in supplication, or deep humility. He does not let us discover that he has even noticed them. He commends only her faith. "O woman, great is thy faith!" We now think nothing of prostrating ourselves before the Lord Jesus. We know him to be "God over all blessed for ever," and we feel at once that the ground is our right station before him. But when he appeared on earth, the case was different. He stood here as a man of ordinary appearance and more than ordinary meanness, a despised and persecuted Nazarene. The great mass of those who saw him, would have spurned the thought of bowing the knee to him; many of them would have been ashamed even to be seen in his presence. But this Canaanite publicly abases herself before him. Heedless of derision and scorn, she comes and falls at his feet; she lies there supplicating his help as one undeserving his help, and im-look on her weeping by his side, we are ploring his mercy as having no other claim on his mercy than her wretchedness. And mark this especially-she took the character which the Lord assigned to her; she prayed on the ground where he had placed her. It was the lowest ground on which she could be placed. He called her "a dog," a name expressive in her country of every thing base; yet she re-echoes the name, she applies it readily to herself as nothing worse than her due; and as a dog she renews her petition. And herein lies real humility. It does not dispute with God. It teaches us to regard ourselves as God regards us, to deem Ourselves what he tells us we are. Does e describe us in his word as unworthy, guilty, perishing? Does he say that we And this was in perfect accordance with his conduct on other occasions. You remember the woman who came to him in the Pharisee's house; that happy mourner, who "washed his feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head." As we delighted with her feeling, and contrition, and love; but here again, though in his reproof to Simon he vindicates her affection, Christ singles out another and a far less conspicuous grace for his praise. "Thy faith," he says, "hath saved thee; go in peace.' Now there must be some reason for the peculiar honor thus uniformly put on this grace; and it is probably this-faith is the root or principle from which all other graces spring. It is not only mixed up with them, but it is their origin, their source. They grow out of it; they are kept alive and are perfected by it. It is easy to discover that it lay at the root of all this mother's virtues. If her parental love did not owe to faith its exist ence, it was faith that gave it the direction | culiar extent of grasp and a peculiar vigor it took; it was faith that brought her with it to the Saviour's feet; it was faith that made it a wise and holy love. Little indeed would it have benefited her child, if faith had not guided it. And her earnestness and perseverance in prayer were the fruits of the same grace. Who ever asks us for that which he does not at least think we possess? and who does not soon cease from asking, unless he has an impression on his mind, that we are able to give, and, in the end, will give him the help he implores ? of exercise. One deemed him able to heal his servant by a mere word; the other recognised in him David's long expected Son, the promised Messiah: she prostrates herself before him as a Being who wel! knew her situation and wishes, and appeals to the greatness of his mercy and power, as though she were pleading with the living God. But it was neither its extent nor its strength, simply considered, which obtained for this faith our Lord's commendation. Its chief excellence was derived from the circumstances under which it was manifested. It was faith out of Israel. It was faith flourishing among unbelief and idolatry. It was a flower in the desert; it was fruit brought forth amidst thorns. III. Let us look now at the gracious treatment it obtained for her. 1. And here we are struck at once by the fact, that Christ delayed his answer to her petition. As for her deep humility, her willingness to stand on the ground where our Lord's contemptuous appellation placed her, nothing but a peculiarly strong faith could have wrought that. She believed him to be a great Saviour; she was not therefore afraid to pray as a great sinner. She believed his power and compassion to be boundless; it mattered nothing then, in her estimation, how unworthy or abject she And could there be grace in this? It was, nor how desperate her child's case; would seem so, for thus the Lord deals the there was help for her in him, and help, most frequently with those he loves the she felt sure, which she might attain. best. He thus treated his prophets of old, Weak faith makes us afraid to lie low; even when executing his work, and suffer we do not see how comfort or help can ing for their faithfulness in his cause. "0 come to us there. Accordingly we often Lord," says Habakkuk, "how long sha!! want to see or feel ourselves to be the I cry, and thou wilt not hear? even cry children of God, before we ask for his mer-out unto thee of violence, and thou wilt not cies. But when faith grows strong, this solicitude, in a great measure, dies away. We can pray then as sinners, pray just as our church teaches us all to pray, as "miserable sinners ;" and in this character, we can ask and expect from Christ the highest blessings. We do not even endeavor to find any ground of hope in ourselves. We have all the encouragement we need in the free mercy of an infinitely gracious God. But, observe, our Lord not only singles out this woman's faith for his commendation, he commends it as faith of extraordinary strength. "Great," he says, "is thy faith;" and he says this evidently with a feeling of admiration. There are but two instances on record, in which he uses language of this kind, and both these are the cases of Gentiles; one that of the Roman centurion, the other the case of this woman of Canaan. This circumstance shows us that Christ marks the difficulties with which we are surrounded. There was doubtless in the faith of each of these persons, a pe save?" "When I cry and shout," says the mourning Jeremiah, "he shutteth out my prayer,' "closes, as it were, the door of his dwelling place, lest my supplication should enter in." And in how mournful a strain does the church in the Canticles be wail her baffled efforts to find her Lord! She describes him as inviting her prayers, as standing at the door of her habitation and calling her to communion with him. She rises up joyfully to welcome him, and where is he? "I opened to my Beloved," she says, but "my Beloved had withdrawn himself and was gone. I sought him, but I could not find him. I called him, but he gave me no answer." And sometimes this delay goes on till the case appears hopeless, and the soul is ready to faint. "I am weary of my crying," says the af flicted David; "my throat is dried; mine eyes fail, while I wait for my God." 66 Does this language describe your own situation, brethren, and your own feelings of disappointment and wonder under it? It would be useless to say to you, your con dition is a happy one; but bring faith into exercise, and it will tell you that though it is a suffering, it is not and cannot be a lost one. God is dealing no worse with you, than he dealt long ago with men "of whom the world was not worthy ;" men who were ever in his eye, and always on his heart; whom, you yourselves well know, he could no more have cast off, or forgotten, or neg. lected, than he can now cast off his glory or forget his joy. Neither has he abandoned you; no, nor laid aside his mercy in his dealings with you. It has assumed a form which, for the moment, you cannot comprehend, and this is all. It is no new form. Thousands have beheld it in this form, and, like you, wondered at it, who are now in heaven. You are remembered still "with the favor that the Lord has ever borne unto his people;" he is still "merciful unto you, as he uses to be unto those that love his name." Look again to this repulsed petitioner. 2. While the Lord delayed the mercy she supplicated, he gave her strength to persevere in prayer for it, and made that prayer more humble and earnest. Christ never struggles with a praying sinner, without giving that sinner power to struggle with him. While in his demeanor he strove against this woman, his Spirit was at work in her heart, upholding her faith, keeping alive her hope, suppressing every rising of wounded feeling, and enabling her to triumph over every discouraging word and appearance. The praying psalmist he treated in the same way. "In the day when I cried," he says, "thou answeredst me ;" and what was the answer? "Thou strengthenedst me with strength in my soul." And no mercy, brethren, that you can receive in answer to prayer can be more gracious, than strength to pray on; none can be thought of, which carries more love n it, or bears more plainly the impress of heaven. God only can give you this. Naure, in a time of distress, may pray, but nature can never brook a long denial. She nust either obtain at once the blessing she upplicates, or, “It is vain to serve God," he says, and turns to human helpers, or bandons herself to misery. It is grace nly that hopes against hope. It is grace hat lies down waiting at the footstool of a lelaying God. It is grace that says amid liscouragements, and mystery, and suffer ings, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." "I will wait for the Lord that hideth his face, and I will look for him.” And whenever Christ thus sustains a spirit of prayer in any heart, he generally does more than sustain it--he makes that very delay the means of increasing it. We want a mercy; it comes at once, and then prayer languishes or ceases altogether. The mercy at another time is withheld, but the soul is kept thirsting for God; is excited to thirst for him more intensely, to plead with him more earnestly, to wait for him, to "follow hard after God." It is a test of true prayer to be quickened, rather than dispirited, by heaven's silence. Blind Bartimeus, we are told, "cried the more a great deal" for mercy; and when? When Christ seemed to be passing him unheeded, and "the multitude were charging him that he should hold his peace." The petitioner before us prayed at first like one taught to pray; she asked as an undeserving sinner for help and mercy, and she asked for them with an imploring heart; but when Christ had first neglected and afterwards repulsed her, how did she pray then? She takes the dust for her station, and affords us there such an example of humility, and faith, and ardor, in supplication, as we can scarcely find elsewhere even in the book of God. 3. And mark further-Christ put on her signal honor. Indeed, whenever we honor God, God always honors us. Whenever we willingly advance his glory, even though we advance it quite unconsciously, he always takes care of ours. Our glory, in fact, gets so connected and intermixed with his, that the one cannot be discovered without bringing into view the other. And thus he displays his condescension together with his greatness. By causing his glory to shine in us and through us, he allows us to share in that which is his alone. Now prayer crowns God with honor. It "ascribes greatness" unto him. It sets him forth as a God of power, and mercy, and never-failing truth. We need not wonder then that God honors prayer; and that he honors it the most when he puts it to the most fiery trial, and keeps it in exercise amidst the severest checks. He is not satisfied, in such cases, with giving it the blessing it asks for; he bestows it in some manner that stamps the happy suppliant with his approbation, and carries home to his heart an assurance of longer; he gives a joyful utterance to his his love. feelings, and manifests himself to her in ali his tenderness and grace. We learn then here, that there is often more love towards us in the heart of Christ. than we can see in his dealings with us. We judge of the love of a fellow-creature for us by his conduct towards us; and Contrast the case of this Canaanite with that of another praying heathen, the centurion of Capernaum. Before he is able to utter one word of supplication, he obtains a promise of help and of all the help he wishes for. "Lord," he says, "my servant lieth at home sick of the palsy, griev-if his love be real and strong, his conduct ously tormented." "I will come and heal generally appears to us consistent with it. him," says Christ. What a readiness to He aims in it at the end we wish, and the hear and answer prayer is manifested in means he employs to attain this end, are, this answer! "It shall come to pass,' ," in most cases, such as we understand and Christ seems to say to us in it, "that before approve. But we must not judge thus of they call, I will answer; and while they the love of Christ. He aims at a higher are yet speaking, I will hear." And what happiness for us than we think of for ouran honor too conferred on this petitioner! selves, and brings that happiness home to He obtains his request almost without ma- us in a way which may appear at first to king it known, and obtains along with it a be bringing us nothing but misery. The commendation of his faith. But put the consequence is, we are not always able to question to yourselves-had you not rather reconcile the dispensations of his providence have been this baffled, long-tried woman with the reality of his love. He often seems of Canaan, than that speedily-answered to be acting as our enemy rather than as Roman? Do not her graces shine out more our friend. All his ways are dark and brightly? Has she not obtained at her mysterious, and through the clouds that Redeemer's feet more abundant honor? surround his throne, we can see no ray of And ask again, does she not owe this honor his goodness, no trace of his favor. Sight to that Redeemer's tardiness to grant her fails us in such seasons, and we want a suit? And does she not at this moment higher principle to keep us waiting on the deem that once strange tardiness a mark Lord. Faith is this principle. It can tell of his gracious favor towards her, a flowing us in these seasons, in any season, that the out of his love? And do not you your-love of Christ is still overflowing, though it selves view it in the same light? And such ere long will you regard that delay of mercy, which now perplexes your own souls. That which keeps prayer alive and strengthens it in hearts like yours; that which holds you who are prone to wander so far from God, so very near to him; that which impels you to honor God and leads God to honor you that must be a blessing. It may for a time weigh down your hearts, but eventually it will fill those hearts with praise and joy. Turn once more to this history. is all hidden from our eyes; that it is sometimes in the strongest and tenderest exercise, when we think it perished forever. There is nothing in the world half so precious as a simple trust in him. It can bring light into the soul in the darkest hour, and throw the brightness of hope into the thickest gloom. We learn also here, that the prayer of faith is always crowned in the end with abun dant success. Observe, our Lord not only gives this woman what she asks, but lets her know at the same time that she may have any thing she asks. He does not say to her, 4. Our Lord, at last, gave to this woman all she desired. "O_woman," he says, "great is thy faith! Be it unto thee even Thy daughter is made whole;" but, "Be as thou wilt." And he evidently says this it unto thee even as thou wilt." He makes in the accents of admiration, with feelings her own wishes the measure of his bounty of delight and love. Till now, he had been And how must her heart have bounded at refraining himself before her; he had been such a saying as this! Who that has a bridling within his own breast emotions mother's or a father's feeling, can help picwhich it would have made her heart burn turing to himself the ardor of gratitude, the with joy to know. His end is at length thrill of joy, with which this distressed paanswered; and now, like Joseph among rent must have caught these gracious his brethren, he can refrain himself no words? Fervent prayer, when granted, turns into fervent praise. That then could | might sit at his feet, and see his face, and be no common praise, which a suppliant behold his glory!" Still the same answer like this offered to such a Benefactor for comes or soon will come, "Be it unto thee such a mercy; and that no common joy, with even as thou wilt." "I go to prepare a which such a mother returned to her home, place for you." "I will come again and and clasped to her heart her restored child. receive you unto myself, that where I am, And what desire of your heart, brethren, there ye may be also.' will be left unsatisfied, if God has made that heart a heart of prayer? None but Christ can satisfy you. It is not in the power of the whole creation to say to one immortal spirit, "Be it unto thee even as thou wilt." But Christ can say this, and does say it, sooner or later, to every seeking, earnest, humbled soul. He never has failed, he never will fail, such a soul. It is a thing unheard of in his universe. All hell would wonder at it, and heaven for the first time tremble. He mocks none. Desires that he has enkindled, he always satisfies. If he has taught you to desire his help and mercy, help for your lost souls and mercy for eternity; to desire them as absolutely needful for you, and to seek them as the unmerited gifts of his compassion; that very desire becomes a warrant for your hope. Be assured that he has pledged himself, in his everlasting covenant, to bestow them on you; and to bestow them in no scanty measure, but, stretch your thoughts to the very utmost, to give you "exceeding abundantly above all you can ask or think." No matter how low the ground on which you pray, nor how high your petitions soar, the blessing is promised, prepared, ready. Are you looking downward, thinking of a dreadful hell and praying for deliverance from its terrors? "There is no condemnation," he says, "to them which are in Christ Jesus." "Be it unto thee even as thou wilt." Do your thoughts turn inward? Is your language this, "O that my polluted heart were cleansed! O that these corruptions were subdued, this tumult within me calmed, these fears and doubts dissipated, these burdens lightened, this darkness, these frightful clouds, swept away!" The answer he sends you is the same, "Be it unto thee even as thou wilt." "Sin shall not have dominion over you." "I will give you rest.” Are you looking upward, longing for an eternal world? Are you saying, as you think of heaven, "O that that glorious heaven were mine! O that I might be with him whom my soul adores! O that I As for you, brethren, who are never found at the feet of Jesus, who never seek his help or desire his mercy, or, if you ever supplicate them, ask for them as though you would not stretch forth an arm to make them yours, wonder not, in a dying hour, if you die without them. His readiness to give them, stamps your want of them with a fearful character. You must think of it no more as a misfortune; it is plainly a want which you would not have supplied. It is a state of poverty, which is your choice. It is your sin, and will eventually be your destruction. He who now lays open the treasures of his grace, and bids you take of them with a free and unsparing hand, is jealous for the honor of his mercies. He will pardon any thing rather than contempt of them. The dishonor you have done to them, will draw down on you his heaviest vengeance. Would you know what this vengeance is? It is only this, but what could it be more or worse?-you shall be without his mercy and help forever. You shall wake up in an eternal world, as spiritually destitute as you are content to be now; and when you cry for his aid, you shall cry in vain. You refused it here when offered; he, in his turn, will deny it there when implored; and not with the silence of an hour or a day, but with the everlasting silence of worn out, exhausted mercy. SERMON XL. THE CITIES OF REFUGE. NUMBERS XXXv. 9, 10, 11. The Lord spake unto Moses, saying, Speak_unto the children of Israel, and say unto them, When ye be come over Jordan into the land of Canaan, then ye shall appoint you cities to be cities of refuge for you. THESE Israelites went over Jordan; they set apart these appointed cities; but where are their walls now? The men who built |