hands. Once it was "very good," and in this he had rejoiced. Now,
plucked from the devouring fire; and must it be passive when millions plunge into the everlasting burnings? Is salvation a thing so very blessed as to occasion new joy in the bosom of God, and be the occasion of a new song; and is damnation such a trifle as to be beheld unmoved? Is the saved soul's deliverance, and recovery of sonship, so glorious, as to draw forth the utterance of the divine complacency "in the presence of the angels;" and shall the sinner's ruin, the lost soul's funeral, call forth no feeling at all? Would this be true perfection? Passivity and insensibility were not the perfection of Him who wept over doomed Jerusalem; can they be the perfection of Godhead?
SERMON XXXVI
THE SINCERITY OF THE DIVINE COMPASSION
"It repented the Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart."—GEN. 6:6.
WE come now to ask, why did the Lord thus grieve at his heart?
1. He grieved to see the change which sin had made in the work of his hands. Once it was "very good," and in this he had rejoiced. Now, how altered! So altered that it could hardly be recognised as the same. Creation was a wreck. The world lay in ruins. Man's glory had departed. The fair image of his Maker was gone! How could the Creator behold so sad a change, and not be "grieved at his heart!" How could he look upon the sin, the ruin, the darkness, the