SERMON XI.

HARVEST PAST AND BALM OF GILEAD.

JER. VIII. 20-22.*

The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved. For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt. I am black. Astonish ment hath taken hold on me. Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?

The Jewish prophets, born and educated among an agricultural people, borrowed many of the most striking images which adorn their writings from scenes of husbandry, and not unfrequently from the season and employments of harvest. By the latter figure is sometimes meant the proper season for activity in divine things: thus: "He that sleepeth in harvest is a son that causeth shame." At other times is meant by it the end of the world, when the wheat shall be gathered into the garner and the tares burnt with unquenchable fire. In our text it

* Preached in a revival of religion.

may mean either or both of these. When the word summer is used metaphorically by the sacred writers, it always means the proper season to lay in provisions for a future day: thus: "He that gathereth in summer is a wise son." The first part of the text may therefore be paraphrased thus: The season to discharge the great duties of life is past, the time allotted to lay in provisions for futurity is ended, and we are not saved. Or if the text is supposed to look forward to the end of the world, then its meaning will be: The awful process of gathering the wheat and burning the tares is past: the concluding scene is closed: ended is the whole period allotted mankind to lay in provisions for eternity: the last chance is over, and we are not saved.

In the next verse the prophet takes up a tender lamentation over his unhappy people. In all the bitterness of heart-felt wo he exclaims, "For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt. I am black: [either, I am clad in mourning, or, I walk in darkness.] Astonishment hath taken hold on me." Jeremiah was a man whose heart-strings seemed attuned to wo. "One would think," says Dr. South, "that every letter was written with a tear; that every word was the noise of a breaking heart; that the author was a man compacted of sorrows; disciplined to grief from his infancy; one who never breathed but in sighs nor spoke but in a groan."

Having thus vented his grief, he makes the tender inquiry, why need it be? "Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why

then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?" Gilead was the name of the country east of Jordan, which fell to Reuben and Gad and half of Manasseh. As early as the time of Jacob it was celebrated for a medicinal balm, known in commerce, and which in later ages furnished a figure to illustrate the healing virtue of the Gospel. In further pursuing the text, I shall take its parts in an order somewhat inverted.

"For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt. I am black. Astonishment hath taken hold on me." Serious indeed must be the state of sinners, if a faint view of it can fill the pious heart with so much grief and astonishment. Extreme must be that ruin, a glimpse of which could cause the distressed prophet to cry, "O that my head were waters and my eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people." Awful must be that wrath, a sight of which could press the blood through the pores of the agonized Saviour, and to deliver men from which he could come down from above all heights to the manger and the garden and the cross.

And why will they die? "Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there?" Why do wretched millions lie weltering in their blood? Why does a demolished world lie in ruins? Why do infatuated nations rush down together to eternal despair? Why must the benevolent cry over a dying world, as they did over wretched Moab: "O vine of Sibmah, I will weep for thee with the weeping of Jazer." "I will water thee with my tears, O

Heshbon and Elealeh.-My bowels shall sound like a harp for Moab, and my inward parts for Kirharesh?" Why do multitudes on every side swarm the road to ruin, and urge their impetuous course, and never slack till they plunge into eternal death? Is it because no remedy is provided? Not so: there is balm in Gilead and an able Physician there. God has not been wanting on his part. He can appeal to heaven and earth, "What could have been done more-that I have not done ?"

The providing of this Physician and balm proved that men were sick. Aye, sick unto death in the whole head and heart. "From the sole of the foot even unto the head there is no soundness." All is "wounds and bruises and putrifying sores." The disease has turned the brain and induced madness. Like many other maniacs, while deeply diseased, they fancy themselves in perfect health. They spurn the remedy, and account their best friends their greatest enemies for urging it upon them. They are constantly struggling to destroy themselves.

But is there no balm in Gilead? is there no physician there ?" Yes, all the rivers flow with balm, and a Physician there is as powerful as God, who offers his healing aid "without money and without price."

When it became manifest that God must abandon his law or the human race or sacrifice his Son, he "spared not his own Son but delivered him up for us all." By sufferings never endured by another, the Saviour fully answered the purpose of our