9. Since God is nothing but love, grace, righteousness, goodness, and mercy, yea, the original source of all virtue, He must of necessity be offended with every sin committed by men; since the nature of sin is directly opposite to the nature of God. Thus by injustice, the justice of God is offended, he being justice itself. By lying, the truth of God is offended, he being truth itself. By hatred the love of God is offended, he being love itself. In a word, since God is the perfection of all virtue, goodness, and love, it can be no other than diabolical malice to offend such infinite goodness, such immense love, nay, _Love_ itself. Had he at any time injured us, it might be no such great wonder, if we hated him, and offended him in our turn: but now, that he gives us nothing but what is good—soul, body, and life itself; that he feeds and clothes us; that he heals our body when it is sick; yea, pardons our sins when we pour out to him our souls; is ready to receive us into favor, as often as we return; now that he has given us his only Son with the Holy Spirit, yea, and Himself too, and adopted us into the number of his children: and having done all this for men, to be yet offended, opposed, and hated by them, is a madness, a malice altogether unaccountable and monstrous. Would it not be most wicked and impious to kill him who gave thee life; to beat and wound him, who kindly embraced and cherished thee in his bosom; to insult and affront him, who heaped honors and dignities upon thee; and to disown and reject him, who had chosen thee for his son? But all these, and far greater indignities, thou offerest to thy heavenly Father, to the supreme, the righteous, the holy God, whom angels adore and fear, and whom seraphim worship with the acclamations of “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!” Isa. 6:3. And thou, who art but dust and ashes, art not afraid to offend him! If a penitent man earnestly calls to mind this monstrous sin, it is impossible but he must be affected with the keenest sorrow of heart, and feel the smart of his wounded conscience to equal and even exceed that of a wounded body. And there is all the reason in the world why it should be so. For hence must necessarily arise a dread and terror, _inwardly_ threatening the conscience with wrath and judgment, and _outwardly_ setting before it the approach of temporal calamities: whence a man, even as Job complains (ch. 6:1, etc.), finds no rest, takes no delight in anything, loathing even his meat and drink. These terrible pangs of conscience are described by David: “Thine arrows,” says he, “stick fast in me: and thy hand presseth me sore.” Ps. 38:2. For as a wound grievously smarts and grows worse whilst the arrow remains fixed in it; so also it is with the conscience, whilst the sting of sin and judgment is not taken away. And these lashes and clamors proceed from nothing but the sentence of divine justice proclaimed