Perhaps the chief cause of St. Paul's tender indulgence and yearning sympathy towards sinners, is to be found in his deep sense of personal sin. When he was a proud, self-righteous Pharisee, we find in him no trace of mercy towards those who differed from him in religious opinions. We have no reason to suppose that the perishing state of the Gentile world ever then cost him a sigh. Saul might have seen a Nineveh destroyed with as much cold indifference as Jonah himself would have done. But he who deemed himself the least of saints and the chief of sinners, loved much, because he had been forgiven much; he delighted in dwelling on the free grace which had saved his own perishing soul; he felt that that grace alone had made him to differ from others, and his heart's desire was that Jew and Gentile should participate in the blessing. Now, this deep sense of sin does not appear in Jonah. He confessed, indeed, to the sailors, that the storm was a judgment upon his flight from duty; but we discover in him none of the lowly humiliation on account of sin which marked a David, a Peter, or even a righteous Job. Perhaps the very nature of his punishment rather fostered the pride than abased the spirit of the prophet. The elements were moved on his account; his transgression had raised a storm—his generous sacrifice quelled it. God wrought a special miracle for his preservation from death. Then, scarcely had Jonah declared the Almighty's message to Nineveh, than the whole mighty city repented in dust and ashes. When did the voice of preacher ever command more sudden, more marvellous success? Truly, Jonah was set on a very high pinnacle indeed! He was reverenced by monarch and people as the inspired oracle of God. We cannot marvel that pride was fostered in the heart of Jonah; and are less surprised that it had such an effect upon his charity—that, to maintain his lofty position as a prophet, he would have been content that the judgments which he had threatened should all be terribly fulfilled. How gently did God, in His love and wisdom, deal with the haughty Jonah! He who had seemed to grasp the thunderbolt was taught that he was but man—but a weak, sinful man. The bodily frame, once miraculously preserved, was shown to be subject to pain and fatigue, even like those of others; the mere force of the wind, the mere heat of the sun, were sufficient to exhaust its strength. Jonah was ready to faint. The soul that had been so lofty and firm in the prospect of instant death, was prostrated and brought to despair by the withering of a gourd! Where was his courage—where his power of endurance? Jonah, under a common form of trial, shows, not the dignity of a prophet, but the impatient querulousness of a child. It must have been with shame that he afterwards recorded the almost impious complaints which bodily discomfort drew from his lips.