sink the creature in the dust, and that moral deformity which ought to cover the sinner with confusion. Genuine humility is inseparably connected with a sense of our dependance, of our unworthiness, and of our ill-desert.

Although dependance, absolute and universal, is necessarily attached to the very being of creatures; yet a sense of this dependence is a most unwelcome visitant to the unhumbled heart. The spirit of the carnal mind is an independent spirit. It is a spirit in which the pride of man glories. Though men are creatures of yesterday, and know nothing; though they are upheld by the visitation of God's arm, and supplied by the beneficence of His hand; they have no apprehension, that they actually live, and move, and have their being in Him. An abiding sense of His universal presence is what they cannot bear to cherish.

But a sense of perfect dependance is a grateful guest to the broken and contrite heart. To a humbled sinner it is sweet to feel that he is absolutely dependant on God for all that he is, and all that he has. He is sensible that he is nothing; that he is a worm, and no man. He realizes that God is every where, and that worms and seraphs are alike at His disposal. He feels with Paul,

that he is not sufficient of himself to think any thing as of himself; but his sufficiency is of God." Does he enjoy signal favors? he calls to mind, that he enjoys nothing that he

has not received. Life, health, as well as the blessings of both, he sees flowing through a thousand channels from the same exuberant source. As the child hangs upon the kindness of its parent, or as the abject poor depend on the daily bounty of their fellow-men; so do the poor in spirit, conscious of their helplessness, wait only upon God, for their expectation is from Him.

With a sense of their dependance, the humble unite a conviction of their unworthiness. They are unworthy; and they feel that they are so. They are sensible that they are sinners. They have seen the plague of their own hearts. They know, at best, they are unprofitable servants; and at best, ought to be for ever overwhelmed with a sense of their unworthiness. Merit they have none. Desert of good is not in all their thoughts. "Who am I, exclaimed the King of Israel, Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my father's house, that thou hast brought me hitherto?" "1 am not worthy, said the humble Patriarch, I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies, and of all the truth which thou hast showed unto thy servant!" The people of God need not be told that they have forfeited every favor. Much as they need the divine compassion, they are sensible that they do not, and cannot deserve it. Often as they seek the divine face and favor, they do not seek them as the reward of personal worthiness. They turn their thoughts inward, and see and feel that they

are less than the least of all saints. They are mere pensioners upon sovereign mercy. There was no distinguishing excellence in them, that made them the objects of favor; there was not the shadow of difference in character, which operated as a reason why God should regard them with the special tokens of His love, rather than the most abandoned wretch that ever lived. “Behold, I am vile! Grace hath made me to differ." When they seek the presence of God, they doit with the humble spirit of the Centurion, Lord, I am NOT WORTHY that Thou shouldest come under my roof! When they cast them selves upon the care of their heavenly Father, it is with the spirit of the prodigal, "Father, I have sinned against Heaven, and in thy sight, and am NO MORE WORTHY to be called thy son!"

In the humble heart, a sense of dependance and unworthiness, is also connected with a sense of ill-desert. Humility holds up to view the bright mirror of God's holy law. From this faithful glass the character of man is reflected in all its native deformity. Here there is no deception. The merit and demerit of character are determinately fixed by this impartial standard. Here God has exhibited His right and our obligation, His righteousness and our ill-desert. Weighed in this unerring balance, the character of man is found wanting. It is the character of a transgressor. It is the character of a rebel against the King of Heaven; a charac

ter which is condemned, and cursed, and in its own detestable nature deserving everlasting wrath.

Unfeigned humility prompts a man to view his character as base, and himself as ill-deserving, as the law of God views them. The humbled heart knows that the law is holy, and the commandment holy, just, and good. He not only feels that the wages of sin is death; but approves the law which threatens him with death for every transgression. He not only sees that sin and guilt are inseparably connected; but approves of the Lawgiver for hating and punishing sin according to its desert. He prostrates himself in the dust, and exalts God on the throne. He takes his proper place at the footstool of God's amiable and awful sovereignty. He knows that he ought to lie as low as vindictive justice can reduce him. He feels that it is of the Lord's mercies that he is not consumed. Such is his sense of illdesert, that he not only feels that he is justly condemned; but magnifies the justice that condemns him, while he adores the grace that rescues him from the condemnation.

Such is the view which the humble man takes of his own character. This is to think soberly of himself, and as he ought to think. This is to have just views of his own char1acter, and voluntarily to abase himself as low as the vileness of his character requires him to lie. This is the disposition with which he renounces his own righteousness,

and relies on the righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ. Once, the humble man thought little of his own vileness; now, a sense of his vileness covers him with shame. Once, he thought himself rich and increased with goods, and in need of nothing; now, he sees and feels that he is wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked. Once, he was too proud to become a beggar; now, he begs for mercy; begs with hope and with joy in the name of Jesus.

This is the disposition that is interwoven with his experience and his conduct. It manifests itself both toward God, and toward man. Especially does it manifest itself toward God. When thinking of God, when beholding His glorious perfections, when rejoicing in the perfection of His gov ernment, and in the excellence of His designs, the humble heart adopts the language of Job, "I have heard of Thee by the hear ing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth Thee; wherefore, I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." When thinking of God, he feels the weight of obligation to love and serve Him with all the heart. Hence he is borne down under a sense of his inexcusable deficiencies. A view of his corruption keeps him near to the earth. He is ashamed that he is no more holy. How often is he con strained to exclaim, "Q wretched man that I am! Can it be that one who knows no more of the love of God, who is no more conformed to His image, is in truth His own dear