SERMON I.

GOD'S REGARD FOR MAN.

JOB vii. 17.—“ What is man that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?"

THIS sentiment is to be found, in a slightly different form, in several parts of the Word of God: in this passage of Job, which is the earliest instance of its occurrence; in the 8th and 144th Psalms; and in the 2d chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, where it is applied to Christ as the representative of the human race.

In every instance in which this sentiment is uttered, the inspired writer will be found to be contemplating man from a somewhat different point of view. Here, he is regarded chiefly as the subject of that moral discipline, by which he is shewn to be the object of God's incessant care. Elsewhere in the 8th Psalm-the same sentiment is uttered in reference to man's wonderful constitution, his high rank in the scale of creation, and his dominion over the inferior creatures; especially, when his insignificant appearance is placed in contrast with the amplitude and magnificence of the starry heavens. And as this view takes us back to the starting-point of man's historical career-back to his very introduction upon earth-and prepares us to take affecting views of the Divine condescension towards him in every subsequent stage-with this we propose to begin.

I.

Now, in specifying some of the proofs that God has magnified man, and set His heart upon him, let me inquire, first,

if it should appear that all the original arrangements of nature were but one vast provision for the arrival of man upon earth, would not this demonstrate the Divine regard for his wellbeing? Now, such is actually the fact.

And here let me avow my conviction that the Adamic creation was only the last of a long series of creations which at far distant intervals had taken place. Often, I believe, since the material of the earth had been first called into existence, often had it been "without form, and void, and darkness had hung on the face of the deep." And as often had the great Creator arisen out of His place to recall it from chaos, and to restore it to order and beauty. But even each of these successive wrecks of the earth had looked on beyond itself, and had a respect to the coming of man; and each of these new creations which followed had formed part of a system of means of which man was to be the subordinate end. For him volcanic fires had fused and crystallized the granite, and piled it up into lofty table-lands. For him the never-wearied water had worn and washed it down into extensive valleys, and plains of vegetable soil. For him the earth had often vibrated with electrical shocks, and had become interlaced with rich metallic veins. Ages of quiet had succeeded each revolution of nature, during which the long-accumulating vegetables of preceding periods were, for him, transmuted into stores of fuel-some of the deposits of primeval waters were becoming iron-and successive races of destroyed animals were changed into masses of useful material. For him the interior of the earth had become a storehouse in which everything necessary had been laid up for his use; that when the time should come for him to open and gaze on its treasures-" on the blessings of the deep that lieth under," on "the chief things of the ancient mountains, and the precious things of the lasting hills"-he might recognize the benevolent foresight of the Being who had prepared, selected, and placed them there, and might exclaim, "The whole earth is full of His goodness!"

But long as the earth had been solemnly marching from stage to stage in obedient fulfilment of its great destinyand often as its anarchy had been hushed and the morning of a new creation had dawned on it-never till now, perhaps, when man was about to be formed, had angel witnesses. looked on, nor such vast and stately preparations been made for the event. Long years of the life of the king of Israel were spent in collecting materials for the erection of a temple on Zion; and, when, at length, he was obliged to devolve the work on his son, and when he had informed him, in the midst of his assembled nobles, of all the great and costly preparations which he had made, what heart did not swell with the grandeur of the design, and, at the same time, tremble at its solemnity and magnitude? But here were materials which had been collecting and preparing under the eye of the Great Designer, for a period, perhaps, never to be dated; out of these a temple-world is to be made, of which every part is to be an altar of memorial-a symbol of the Godhead ;—and now, as soon as it is completed, the new-made worshipper is to enter and adore. What seraph did not burn with unwonted ardour for the issue! For now the hour was at hand.

Already, and only five days before, in preparation for his coming, the anarchy of chaos had been suddenly reduced to order; and the laws of nature, resuming their operation, had received their new commission to be to him "for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years," till time itself shall be no more. Already the earth has received its appropriate geographical distribution, as the theatre in which the great drama of humanity is to be performed. Power, already, has reared its hills, and smoothed its valleys, and directed the course of its rivers; and has established all its chains of causes and effects. Wisdom has clothed the earth with verdure, and has completed its arrangements of means and ends. Goodness has filled all the channels of animal enjoyment from its own overflowing fountain. And as the great work

has advanced from stage to stage, the Mighty Maker has paused, and surveyed, and pronounced it good.

But still it is only a relative good-good, that is, in relation to the addition about to be made to it in the coming of man. Viewed in this relation, it is good as compared with what it has ever yet been. Hitherto, though the Divine Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness, have for ages been here, where was the eye intelligently to behold them? Where, when the Divine Benignity smiled-where was the countenance to reflect and return the smile? But now the Divine Creator knew that His work would be read with an intelligent eye. To these mountains His Faithfulness will be able to point for an image of its own stability, and say, "It is like the great mountains, and it reacheth to the heavens." In that glorious sun, the new-made eye of man will soon recognize an emblem of a purity too bright to be gazed on, and of an omniscience from which nothing is hid. The boundless magnificence of night will call forth the admiring burst, "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth his handy work." Day after day will be uttering speech to man's listening ear; and night after night will be shewing knowledge to man's intelligent eye. That "great and wide sea, wherein are things moving innumerable," will come to be regarded as a vast treasury of solemn thoughts. Over its dim, and restless, and apparently shoreless waters, the Spirit of God will still, in a sense, continue to brood; impregnating and making it prolific of sublime conceptions. Thence lofty motives will come, and solemn imaginations, and dark but ennobling hints of the infinite and the eternal. And so overpowering a conception of the Creator's excellence will be derived from a survey of the boundless fulness of terrestrial life and being, that the enraptured beholder will be heard to call out on all created things to join him in a hymn of lofty praise. Viewed in this relation, too, creation was good as compared with what it might have been. For He to whom all possibilities are foreknown, as well as all realities,

knew what the most distant result to man would be, of a single change in the arrangements and laws of creation; knew, for example, how injuriously a slight alteration in the constitution of the atmosphere would affect the wellbeing of man; knew how a change in the direction of the course of a river would impede for ages the march of civilization; and how the introduction of even another race of animal existence might prevent the spread of colonization, and even endanger the continuance of man upon the earth. Now He that "seeth the end from the beginning" knew that no such element of evil had been admitted into His new creation. Everything had been prepared, and selected, and exquisitely adjusted to the constitution of the coming man.

And could we have had all this mighty preparation to pass before us—could we have known that every thought of the projected creature man would find an image in external nature, and that every object in nature would find a responsive emotion in the mind of man-could we have seen that for him the Creator had weighed the very mountains in scales and the hills in a balance-that in him the laws of matter would find their interpreter, the vegetable kingdom its uses, the animal tribes their sovereign, and all creation its subordinate completion and its end-could we have forborne exclaiming, "Lord, what is man that thou shouldest thus magnify him, and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him!"

II

But, secondly, if it shall appear that the constitution of man is made answerable to all this rich provision for his arrival, this would still further prove the depth of the Divine regard for his wellbeing. I need not remind you that there was much that was special in the provision made for the first man. "A garden did the Lord God plant eastward in Eden" for his happy abode. Here was the mansion; but as yet the inhabitant was not. Here was the temple com