CHAPTER II. THE SIN FORGIVER. Who forgiveth all thine iniquities."-Psalm ciii. 3. I EXPLAINED in the course of my last remarks upon the first two verses of this Psalm, that this is the chief eucharistic hymn of all the hundred and fifty. It is that sublime song in which David unfolds the feelings of a glad heart, in the varied and beautiful expression of inspired thanksgiving. He is represented here as if engaged in a soliloquy, or conversation with himself, which consists of enumerating the distinguishing mercies of which he had been made the conscious subject, and uttering the song of gratitude and praise that became him as the grateful response to so many and so unmerited blessings. I explained too in the last chapter, the duty, the necessity, the profitableness of thankfulness to God. I now enter upon the special grounds on which David calls upon his soul, the great high-priest in the sanctuary within, without whose offering all the expressions of the lips would be like the tinkling cymbal and the sounding brass-to thank God, first of all, for the forgiveness of all his sins; healing his diseases and redeeming his life from destruction; and, lastly, for crowning him with loving-kindness and with tender mercies. The first of these grounds is the greatest that man can enjoy, or for which he can praise God; it is that which is so commonly spoken of, and so inadequately felt, the for giveness of all our sins. We perceive at once by the statement of the Psalmist, that sin is in us, among us, and cleaving to us; and surely if anything on earth could interrupt the down-shower of the mercies and blessings of God upon the heart of a man, it must be sin in that heart— the cause of all the world's discordthe bitter spring of all the soul's disquiet; that which has driven the world out of its course-made man at war with himself, with his fellowcreature, and with God. Surely if there be anything that could interrupt the descent of God's great mercies, it must be the existence, in the heart of the recipient, of that which God supremely hates, and the extinction and the extirpation of which is one of the grand and ultimate designs of all the providence and of all the dispensations of God. Yet there is no man who is not conscious of sin. In the silent watches of the night a spectral apparition, like that which appeared to Job's friend, sweeps before him; and a still small voice is heard within, protesting and accusing, and pronouncing us guilty in the sight of God. There is no man who has not, at some moment of his life, a deeper insight into his sin than he has at others; and no man, even the most abandoned, in whose bosom-it may be at distant, but at sure intervals-sin does not make itself heard, and indicate with terrible precision the vengeance that treads at its heels. Every one, therefore, and the Psalmist here, in thanking God for the forgiveness of his sins, admits that sin is in us, among us, and cleaving to us. Whatever be not our own, our sins are strictly, properly, disastrously our own. Our life may not be ours; our property may not be ours; whatever we have, may not be ours; we may be only stewards, and responsible for it to another: but our sins are our own; they constitute a load that I cannot transfer from my shoulders to those of another man; they form together a responsibility which I cannot alienate or separate from myself by any effort that I can make. Sin cleaves to me for my life; and, unless forgiven, it will be coeval with my immortality. Sin is riveted in my nature; woven into all its texture; intertwined with all my faculties, affections, and powers; and therefore sin is mine; and when I speak of the forgiveness of it, I pray that God would forgive my sin; and |