shall try to see whether there is not a real answer to the craving
contained in the Redeemer's words, "The Son of Man hath power on earth
to forgive sins." What power is there in human forgiveness? What does
absolution mean in the lips of a son of man? These are our questions
for to-day. We shall consider two points.

I. The impotency of the negation.
II. The power of the positive truth.

The Pharisees denied the efficacy of human absolution: they said,
"None can forgive sins, but God only:" that was a negation. What did
they effect by their system of negations? They conferred no peace;
they produced no holiness. It would be a great error to suppose that
the Pharisees were hypocrites in the ordinary sense of the term--that
is, pretending to be anxious about religion when they knew that they
felt no anxiety. They _were_ anxious, in their way. They heard a
startling free announcement of forgiveness by a man. To them it
appeared license given to sin. If this new teacher, this upstart--in
their own language, "this fellow--of whom every man knew whence he
was," were to go about the length and breadth of the land, telling
sinners to be at peace; telling them to forget the past, and to work
onwards; bidding men's consciences be at rest; and commanding them not
to _fear_ the God whom they had offended, but to _trust_ in Him--what
would become of morality and religion? This presumptuous Absolver
would make men careless about both. If the indispensable safeguards of
penalty were removed, what remained to restrain men from sin?

For the Pharisees had no notion of any other goodness than that which
is restrained; they could conceive no goodness free, but only that
which is produced by rewards and punishments--law-goodness,