costly possession. Such raptures about "the law of the Lord" do not look as though the very idea of "Jehovah" had only just been given to the world. Such enthusiasm for God's judgments and statutes is incredible, if, as some would have us believe, the first fragments of the Romance of the Pentateuch were just then getting into circulation among the sons of the prophets. The Psalm reveals the mighty force of great ideas that had been strong enough from his childhood to shield the mind of David from the dominant and crushing paganism of the East, and witnesses to his deep faith in the revelation of the law and grace of God.

It is a new utterance of David's profound and awful reverence for the law of God, that at the conclusion of the noble prayer-song he should have said, "Let the words of my mouth, and the meditations of my heart, be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my Redeemer:" for seldom have words been more worthy, seldom, if ever, have thoughts been more profound and reverential, more fit to be offered up to the Holy One, as an acceptable sacrifice, a fragrant incense. The words of my text may be regarded as the act of sacrifice and dedication which David made of certain words which he had

just fashioned for Jehovah's praise; and they may be regarded as a comprehensive prayer, which included a large portion of David's life. Therefore we shall consider them in these two lights :-first, as an act of sacrifice, which men in these days also have

power to offer; and secondly, as a prayer which may include a large proportion of our lives.

I. Let us consider the utterance of the text as an act of sacrifice and dedication to God which a devout man may make of both words and thoughts. In other words, a man may, like David, so order the words of his mouth and the meditations of his heart, that they will prove to be an acceptable sacrifice. I use the word 'sacrifice,' because the Psalmist does employ in my text a term which perpetually recurs in Leviticus and elsewhere, when the acceptance of a sacrifice is spoken of. God had appointed a series of ceremonial acts, which though they were not morally beautiful, yet from their typical character and their expression of the yearnings and petitions of His worshippers, were "acceptable in His sight." It was not practically possible to keep the whole law of God. It was not within the range of human endeavour to atone for transgression; it was not possible to offer unto God sufficient expression of gratitude for His mercies. But God had provided a way in which man's great unutterable needs could find expression. He accepted a ceremonial obedience, which was possible even to the minutest point of required observance. He received the sin-offering of the great day of atonement. He had respect to these sacrifices in virtue of the perfect submission to the Eternal Will which would be yielded by Him who would prove to be "the second Adam," the Son and Jehovah of David, the King-Priest after the order of Melchizedek.

Again, God had a right to demand the most entire thankfulness, the most complete and thorough acknowledgment of His great goodness; but in default, as it were, of such unreserved and genuine gratitude, He accepted a thank-offering, He approved a ceremonial dedication-such as the waving of a sheaf in His temple-as a temporary acknowledgment, a confession of the imperfection of all our gratitude, and a prophecy of the day when in a more perfect tabernacle, on higher terms, in nobler fashion, God's priests should offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable through Jesus Christ.

A sacrifice or thank-offering "before the Lord," or " in the sight of God," according to the legal phrase, was an embodied prayer, was a confession of weakness, and a cry for help. In a similar way we may regard an act of prayer, or of meditation, or of praise, as a sacrifice presented before the Lord for His acceptance. Such an act is the submission of self to God, and to that extent a divine consecration of the man who offers it.

When a Hebrew presented a thank-offering or a trespass-offering before the Lord, it was possible for him to know that it conformed entirely to the divine requirement. The details of the law of God are so exact that the worshipper might conform in every particular to the revealed injunctions of the holy Law. But how can we offer anything to the Most High which is not defiled with sin? We feel that the bias of our being is to sin; that when we would

do good, evil is present with us: our will is hampered, our affections are stronger than our judgment, our material nature overrides our spiritual life; we are often the victims, as it seems to us, of the old Adam, and of adverse circumstances; "Our righteousnesses are as filthy rags;" "We are all as an unclean thing, we all do fade as a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away;" "Wherewithal shall we come before the High God?" What shall we offer up to the Lord that is not defiled?

We cannot modify the fundamental character of our mind. We feel that deep in our inner nature there is an individuality, a personality altogether behind, within, above our will; which we can no more alter than we can add to our stature or change our features. There is much of our nature, our disposition, our temper, that is what we call involuntary and uncontrollable. We are in bondage to sin, in servitude to beggarly elements; and to render up ourselves to God seems impossible. To take our whole nature to God, to write holiness to the Lord on every part of ourselves; to get, as it were, underneath our secret motives and innate disposition, and offer our whole nature to the Lord, may seem utterly beyond our power. But, my brethren, here are two things that we can offer to Him; here are two things that we can present before Him, and that we may hope to make acceptable in His sight,-"The words of our mouth, and the meditations of our heart." There

is a definiteness, a speciality, a voluntariness about these things, so that in spite of strong temptations, and grievous corruption, and much distraction of mind, they may be consecrated unto the Lord, and be acceptable in His sight. It is by making such consecration to Him, that the empire of God over us, the kingdom of God within us, is ever widening, and that more words and more meditations become His. However evil our hearts, our words are our own, and we are not compelled to use them by any inward or outward force. If we sin with our lips, we transgress voluntarily, and because we choose to do so. An unkind speech, an idle word, a lie, a profane oath, a slander, an unclean jest, a misrepresentation, have never dropped from human lips without wilful sin. There is nothing so much in our power as are the words of our mouth. It is possible for us to utter holy things, to speak God's praise, to breathe forth kindness in pure and gentle words, or it is possible for us to force our lips to silence, and make our words few. If affection, and generosity, and gratitude are so alien from our hearts that for us to speak them would be a series of falsehoods, we have the power of holding our peace and sealing our lips. It seems, then, fitting that of all things we should regard our words as material for sacrifice, which, notwithstanding our conscious sinfulness, we may offer up and make acceptable unto God. We cannot change our heart, my brethren, but we can, if we will, entirely change our speech. We