-■=i_ . ,-iflf -, V«fg 
 
 PASTOR'S LIBRARY, 
 
 l^ii*!*5t Eccletrsijxstictil Soeietr^. 
 
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 IS 
 
 THIS BOOK BELONGED TO THE LIBRARY OF 
 Rev. JOEL IIAAVES, D. D., 
 
 For 49 Years the Pastor of this Church. 
 
 Ordained 3farch 4, 1818. Died June 4, 1867. 
 
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 MAR 6 Kk^< 
 
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MEDITATIONS. 
 
MEDITATIONS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 LAST DAYS OF CHRIST, 
 
 CONSISTING OF 
 
 TEN SERMONS, 
 
 PREA^CIIED AT 
 
 CONSTANTINOPLE AND ODESSA. 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM G. SCHAUFFLER, 
 
 Missionary of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 PUBLISHED BY WILLIAM PEIRCE 
 
 QCornhill. 
 
 1837. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1837, by 
 
 WILLIAM PEIRCE, 
 in the Clerk's ofSce of the District Court of Massachusetts* 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The present series of Meditations is presented to the Christian 
 reader with unfeigned diffidence; and the rather so because the spe- 
 cific circumstance which led to its publication is not of a nature to 
 meet the public eye. That these unassuming endeavors share, in a 
 more than common degree, the imperfection of all human efforts, I 
 feel deeply, and confess freely; but I hope that the profitableness and 
 importance of the subject, and the comparative scarcity of sermons 
 upon the historical parts of the Sacred Scriptures will induce some to 
 peruse these pages. If any of the readers should find but half the 
 spiritual profit in their perusal which I was permitted to reap from 
 thoir composition, they will bless the Lord with me for the precious 
 portions of holy writ which form their basis. That the general sub- 
 ject of these Meditations would bear to be enlarged upon with grow- 
 ing profit and delight to an indefinite extent, all will readily agree; 
 but I durst not tax the reader's indulgence more than I have done. 
 In heaven we shall dwell upon it forever. 
 
 But one may ask how I was led to the composition of discourses 
 of this kind. Partly, I was weary of preaching upon abstract sub- 
 jects; and partly, Krummacher's Elias, a series of sermons upon the 
 history of Elijah, had awakened in me a new relish for the history of 
 the Bible. To select this most difficult portion of Scripture history 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 I was led by a beautiful ancient German hymn upon the burial of 
 Christ, by the pious Paul Gerhard. 
 
 In the history of the resurrection T am much indebted to I. I. Hess, 
 whose view has met my feelings best, though it has by no means 
 been copied. Krummacher's " Lehrstimmen," I did not see till a 
 considerable time after these meditations were finished. I have 
 therefore no more borrowed from him than he from me. As to 
 form, I have moved unshackled by the rules of pulpit composition. 
 I hate the stiff, undeviating rules of all the rhetorical schools in the 
 world, alike. They are so many mummeries, each representing the 
 great writer or speaker of some period or other, while the eloquence 
 of prophets and apostles soars with undying energies, and with ever 
 new and varying beauties, like an eagle just below the stars. We 
 ought to be fvee on this subject, and suffer our texts and subjects, the 
 character of our audience, and our prayerful feelings to suggest the 
 form of our messages to mind So did the prophets and apostles. 
 The circumstances under which these Meditations were written and 
 delivered were various; now wars and a destructive plague sur- 
 rounded us, and none only our mission families and a few pious na- 
 tives composed the audience. Sometimes, (as in the Meditation 
 entitled " Thomas's Conversion,") missionary brethren and sisters 
 destined for other stations were present on their passage to the re- 
 gions beyond us. A few times large audiences were assembled. 
 Considerable intervals, occasioned by travelling and other circum- 
 stances, occurred likewise. This may account for some particular 
 allusions, and perhaps for some defects, too, with which the reader 
 will meet in these pages. 
 
 If some of our ministerial brethren in America should be led, in 
 their public ministrations, to direct their attention more to the histor- 
 iciil parts of the Bible, and by their more successful efforts should 
 supersede the use of this little volume, the author would consider 
 this a reward for his feeble attempt beyond his boldest expectations. 
 
PREFACE. Va 
 
 The history, too, of our Bible is precious above gold, and much fine 
 gold and pearls and precious stones. 
 
 May God, whose strength is made perfect in weakness, grant his 
 blessing to the testimony of an unworthy servant, and take all the 
 glory to himself forever. 
 
 W. G. SCHAUFFLER. 
 
 Constantinople, Jan. 14, 1836. 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 I. 
 
 CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 
 
 JOHN XII, 12—19. 
 
 On the next day much people that were coming to the feast, when they heard 
 that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took branches of palm trees, and went forth 
 to meet him, and cried, Hosanna: Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in 
 the name of the Lord. And Jesus, when he had found a young ass, sat thereon • 
 as it is written, Fear not, Daughter of Zion : behold, thy King cometh sittin" 
 on an ass's colt. These things understood not his disciples at the first; but when 
 Jesus was glorified, then remembered they that these things were written of him 
 and that they had done these things unto him. The people therefore that was 
 with him when he called Lazarus out of his grave, and raised him from the dead 
 bear record. For this cause the people also met him, for that they heard that he 
 had done this miracle. The Pharise<iS tliereforo said among themselves Perceive 
 ye how ye prevail nothing? behold, the world is gone after him. 
 
 Compare Matthew xxi, 1 — llj Mark xi, 1 — 11; Luke xix, 29 44. 
 
 With the leave of Divine Providence, I have pur- 
 posed, partly for my own instruction and edification, to 
 deliver a course of sermons upon the last days of oivr 
 Lord Jesus Christ on earth, commencing with his 
 solemn entrance into Jerusalem, as it is set forth in 
 2 
 
10 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 the portions of Scripture which I have chosen for the 
 text of this discourse. Nor will this be done without 
 the edification of those who may hear me, provided 
 divine assistance is vouchsafed to me, to give me an 
 insight into the portions of holy writ which I may be 
 called to handle, and to open the eyes of my under- 
 standing, that I may see "the light of the knowledge 
 of the glory of God, as it shines in the face of Jesus 
 Christ our Lord." 
 
 I have formed this purpose for my instruction, I say; 
 because there are various difficulties of different kinds 
 attending this part of the history of Christ. The&e 
 I shall endeavor to clear away by an exhibition of the 
 events in their true order and connection, as they may 
 appear after a careful examination of the harmony of 
 the four evangelists, and by such other observations 
 as may tend to throw light upon the sacred text. I 
 have made it for my edification, because I am con- 
 vinced that, unless I am altogether deserted from 
 above — which may God in mercy avert! — such scenes 
 as shall come before me cannot be contemplated with- 
 out serious spiritual enjoyment and advantage. May 
 it please Him, with whom is the residue of the Spirit, 
 who himself is the living fountain, and in whose light 
 alone we can see light, to give me such help, such 
 insight and enjoyment in this my undertaking, as will 
 show that it remains still true what his servant of old 
 said of Him — " He giveth power to the faint, and to 
 them that have no might he increaseth strength. Even 
 the youth shall faint and be weary, and the young men 
 shall utterly fall; but they that wait upon the Lord 
 shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with 
 
Christ's entrance into Jerusalem. 11 
 
 wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; 
 they shall walk, and not faint." Is. xl. 
 
 Such is the interest thrown around the various 
 scenes in the field of contemplation before me, that 
 I hardly dare cast forward my looks, lest I should 
 faint and relinquish my task as incapable even of the 
 slightest approximation; lest, forgetting that the pow- 
 er of God is made perfect in weakness, I should 
 exclaim, with Peter, ** Depart from me, for I am a sin- 
 ful man, O Lord." 
 
 There it lies, the whole vast picture — rich, various, 
 an unique combination of all that is just, good, holy, 
 heavenly, divine, on the one hand; and all that is 
 black, disgusting, and diabolical, on the other — the 
 most interesting part of the most interesting history of 
 our globe from the beginning to the end of time — the 
 revealed light of Heaven mingling in contest with the 
 smoke of the bottomless pit; divine love and forbear- 
 ance and infernal hatred and outrage in close encoun- 
 ter — Heaven on the one side, hell on the other, and a 
 wicked, perishing world in the centre, — the Lamb of 
 God on the accursed tree; here a dying, penitent 
 sinner; there an expiring, cursing wretch; believers 
 dispersing, doubting, denying, swearing, repenting, 
 weeping, recovering; high treason committed, and 
 punished with unavailing sorrows and everlasting 
 burnings; the world and hell in a shout of triumph, 
 because Heaven is defeated and its hero slain; the 
 everlasting interests of a world at stake and involved 
 in impenetrable gloom for thirty-six hours; the heav- 
 ens darkened, and the earth convulsed and shook out 
 of her place; and, as the catastrophe of the whole, the 
 
12 JIEDITATIONS. 
 
 armies of hell routed, the main power of Satan broken^ 
 a divine dispensation closed forever; Christ reigning 
 victorious; a new irrevocable covenant between God 
 and repenting sinners established; songs of triumph 
 in Heaven; the everlasting kingdom of our God and 
 of his Christ commenced upon earth; and between 
 these leading facts, numerous collateral circumstances, 
 but even these, like stars of minor magnitude, each 
 still a world by itself; — this is the sketch, these are the 
 elements of the story before me, upon all of which 
 to touch even in the most protracted course of sermons, 
 would be counting the stars — an awful, fearful, de- 
 lightful view ! 
 
 But I must not indulge, for my own discouragement^ 
 in anticipations like these. I have chosen a text — I 
 owe you an explanation of it, and it shall be deferred 
 no longer. It was not without hesitation that I chose 
 the first text and subject of my contemplated series 
 of discourses. There are various points in the history 
 of our Lord, which seemed almost to have equal claims 
 with this. After all, however, my text struck me as 
 being especially prominent, because it is the first pub- 
 lic step which Christ took, to show his character, to 
 meet his last trials, and to finish the work which his 
 heavenly Father had given him to do on earth. 
 
 We shall at this time contemplate more particu- 
 larly : 
 
 1 . Christ setting out on his triumphant entrance into 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 2. The rejoicing disciples. 
 
 3. The willing people. 
 
 4. The gainsaying Pharisees. 
 
 5. Jesus' tears. 
 
Christ's entrance into Jerusalem. 13 
 
 I. It was towards the close of our Lord's ministry 
 on earth, that the exasperation of the most influential 
 among the pharisees, the scribes, and the elders of 
 the Jews, rose to such a height as to render Jerusalem 
 no longer a safe abode for him. The resurrection of 
 Lazarus from the grave had filled the measure of their 
 rage, and satisfied their minds that nothing short of 
 the violent death of their formidable adversary could 
 answer their purpose, and liberate them from the fear- 
 ful apprehensions with which his growing popularity 
 began to fill their bosoms. Down with him! So it 
 echoed from mouth to mouth. Down with the Sabbath- 
 breaker, the despiser of our venerable, sacred tradi- 
 tions, who dares to oppose council, sanhedrim, and 
 high-priests, and to foil them by his continual, trouble- 
 some appeals "to the law and to the testimony." 
 Down with him! though he cleanse all the lepers, 
 heal all the sick, raise all the dead, comfort all the af- 
 flicted, feed all the poor, and save all the perishing 
 souls from Dan to Beersheba. Down with him! for it 
 is better that he and all the poor and sick perish 
 throughout the land, than that our synagogue estab- 
 lishment should sufler, our craft get into disrepute, and 
 our income cease. 
 
 On this account, when Christ returned for the last 
 time to Jerusalem, his hour being not yet come, he 
 stopped for some time at Ephraim, a city, or rather an 
 obscure town, probably but a few miles north-east from 
 Jerusalem, on the borders of the desert of Judah. 
 (John xi, 59.) Six days, that is, as chronologists 
 would have it, the Sabbath or Saturday before the 
 
 passover, he came up from Ephraim to Bethany, where 
 
 0* 
 
14 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 Lazarus and his sister lived, to attend a supper, which 
 seems to have been prepared for him in particular, and 
 where Lazarus was one of the guests, Martha served, 
 and Mary anointed Christ with precious ointment 
 while he was reclining at the table. This is doubtless 
 the same supper with that of which we read in Mat- 
 thew xxvi, and Mark xiv, where Simon the leper is 
 mentioned as the host. The apparent discrepancy 
 between John and the two evangelists last alluded to, 
 admits of such an easy and satisfactory solution, that it 
 is astonishing how men of sense could ever have 
 thought of two distinct suppers at Bethany, one be- 
 fore and one after the entrance of Christ into Jeru- 
 salem; at each of which Christ had been anointed by 
 a woman; at each of which his disciples had rebuked 
 the person urging the same plea for the poor and re- 
 ceiving the same answer from Christ — other obvious 
 coincidences not to mention. That Matthew and Mark 
 mention the supper after the entrance of Christ into 
 Jerusalem, while John introduces it as occupying the 
 day before, will not appear strange, if we consider 
 that Matthew does not aim at chronological order, but 
 relates his facts upon the principle of some moral sym- 
 metry which he has in view. Mark frequently follows, 
 the same method from the same consideration. An at- 
 tentive reading of these two evangelists will satisfy 
 any one on the subject. All the objections which have 
 been urged against the identity of these two suppers, 
 are too trifling almost to deserve a refutation. One 
 evangelist says, that the woman anointed the feet of 
 Christ, and the other, that she anointed his head. And 
 the easy reply is, that both are right, that neither de- 
 
Christ's entrance into Jerusalem. 15 
 
 nies what the other asserts, and that both the head and 
 the feet of Christ were anointed. Either was the 
 practice on such occasions, as we may safely infer from 
 Luke vii, 46. There, Christ says to the pharisee, in 
 whose house he sat down to meat, and where also he 
 was anointed by a woman of unhappy notoriety,* "Mine 
 head with oil thou didst not anoint, but this woman has 
 anointed my feet with ointment." And as this and the 
 transposition of the narrative are the only differences 
 between the evangelists, 1 maintain that John, Mat- 
 thew, and Mark refer to the same supper, in which 
 John keeps the order of time, and after having related 
 this occurrence in its proper place, he goes on to state, 
 that on the next day after the supper in Simon's house, 
 our Lord set out publicly to enter the royal city. 
 
 He set out from Bethany. Matthew makes the im- 
 pression that he obtained his animal from Bethphage. 
 These two places were both situated on the east of the 
 mount of Olives, north-east from Jerusalem; and they 
 were so near to each other, that Christ may have sent 
 to Bethphage after having set out, himself, on foot 
 from Bethany, — he, perhaps, passing up the mount of 
 Olives with the people, while some of his disciples 
 procured the animal. This latter appears to have 
 been borrowed from a couple of men well inclined 
 towards our Lord; for otherwise the commission of 
 Christ, as well as the owners' readiness to comply, as 
 soon as they heard that " the Lord had need" of the 
 creature, could not well be explained. 
 
 The ass is brought, and Christ proceeds up the as- 
 
 ■* Not Mary Magdalene, as some think ; her name is unknown. 
 
16 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 cent, accompanied by a crowd of disciples, and a large 
 number of people from abroad, who were come to the 
 approaching feast, and who had visited Bethany to see 
 Lazarus after his miraculous resurrection, glorifying 
 God for all these displays of his power. As they, ap- 
 proach the top of the mountain, the prospect widens; 
 and what the weakness of the bodily senses cannot 
 reach or discern, the charm of an imagination v»'ell 
 acquainted with the sacred relics of the holy land, 
 would, in the twinkling of an eye, gather within the 
 compass of their horizon. In front, there lies the 
 *' mountain of the Lord's house '* crowned with the 
 royal city, the only, exclusive, earthly dwelling-place 
 of the Most High. On the west, the great sea, whose 
 mighty ships are one day, and perhaps soon, to bring 
 back the dispersed of Israel from the four winds of 
 Heaven, and whose remotest islands and shores are, 
 ere long, to stretch out their hands unto Jehovah. 
 Did one of the company chance to look back, — there 
 was Jordan, the witness of divine power when Israel 
 passed through it dry-shod, to take possession of the 
 promised land, — and the Dead Sea, the emblem of 
 God's wrath over all the incorrigible enemies of his 
 word and work. On the south, there lay the birth- 
 place of Him "whose goings forth are from old, from 
 everlasting; " and dear Hebron, of sacred memory, 
 was also near, the dwelling-place of Abraham the 
 father of the faithful. It was a wonderful, soul-inspir- 
 ing panorama of sacred places, witnesses of divine 
 revelations, expositions, mercies, judgments, and won- 
 ders past numbering. And — what completed the 
 sacred enthusiasm of the pious company — in the 
 
CHRIST S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM, 17 
 
 midst of them was riding, upon an ass-colt, a mysteri- 
 ous n>an, with unassuming plainness, heaven in his 
 countenance, of whose love and miraculous poWer 
 the land was ringing again, and whose every step, 
 word, look, and turn was but a new proof, that he 
 moved in a more than human sphere. What wonder^ 
 then, if their feelings were enlarged, their hopes raised 
 high, and their hearts filled witii joy to overflowing. 
 They look at him again. Is he not the promised, 
 peaceful King of God's people? Yes, it is he! He it 
 is, — or no one ever comes! They tear branches 
 from the trees, and throw them into the way, as marks 
 of their reverence and joy; they mind not their gar- 
 ments, — they spread them out into the dust, and as 
 he rides away over them, they burst forth into a song, 
 Hosanna to the Son of David! blessed is the King of 
 Israel, that cometh in the name of the Lord! Hosanna 
 in the highest — according as it is written, ''Rejoice 
 greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Je- 
 rusalem; behold! thy King cometh unto thee; he is 
 just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an 
 ass, and upon a colt, the foal of an ass." 
 
 II. But we must not overlook with whom the joy of 
 our happy company to-day originated. This we learn 
 from the evangelist Luke. "And when he was 
 come nigh, even now at the descent of the Mount of 
 Olives, the whole multitude of the discifles began to 
 rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the 
 mighty works that they had seen." This main object 
 of the triumphal march is now obtained. The disciples 
 are now all convinced and sure the Messiah is among 
 them. And (mark this) not the worldly conqueror. 
 
18 Meditatio.Vs. 
 
 bent on revenge and slaughter, but the peaceful Lord, 
 the deliverer from all evil, the spiritual and everlast- 
 ing King, whose kingdom is not of this world in the 
 usual sense of the term. Their hearts overflow; they 
 can refrain no longer; their feelings want utterance, 
 and they burst forth; not into a wild cry of war and 
 bloodshed; not into threatenings and imprecations 
 against their enemies; nor into flattering encomiums of 
 their new king; but into a sacred song of praise and 
 prayer, in which angels might well have joined: " Ho- 
 sanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he that cometh 
 in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest. 
 Blessed be the kingdom of our father David, which 
 cometh in the name of the Lord! Peace in Heaven, 
 and glory in the highest!" That their frame of mind 
 Vv'as at least not altogether different from what our 
 Lord wished it to be, is clear from the fact that He 
 indulged and encouraged them himself. On other sim- 
 ilar occasions he had withdrawn and hid himself, when 
 the people endeavored to proclaim him Messiah, be- 
 cause then their minds were wholly unprepared, and 
 their motives and expectations low and carnal. JVo«', 
 seeing them in some measure prepared to enter into 
 his views, he gives them occasion, himself, for doing 
 so, by the most forcible allusion possible to the well- 
 known prophecy in Zachariah ix. 
 
 To see Christ exalted and glorified is the chief de- 
 light of every true believer, and the ultimate object of 
 all his prayers and efforts. To see him forgotten, 
 neglected, and despised, mingles wormwood in the cup 
 of his joy, and would make existence itself burden- 
 some to him at last. But Christ is glorified and hon- 
 
Christ's entrance into Jerusalem. 19 
 
 ored in the highest possible degree, when he can enter 
 as the prince of life and peace, here into a heart, 
 there into a family, a church and congregation, a city, 
 or a land, and pour his rich and precious blessings 
 freely over them. And hence his true friends are never 
 happier than when they are permitted to precede and 
 to follow him in his march, with the voice of rejoicing 
 and triumph; when they see the people " willing in the 
 day of his power," flocking to him " as clouds and as 
 doves to their windows." They delight to be the 
 helpers of the young convert's first love and first joy. 
 They remember the time when they themselves were 
 sitting in darkness; when the awakened conscience 
 roared terribly in their guilty souls; when they wished 
 to pray, but had no heart to it; when they wanted to 
 " flee from the wrath to come," but their feet seemed 
 to be rivetted to the ground; when they wished to make 
 themselves better by good works, but grew worse every 
 minute; when the heavens above them were as black as 
 pitch, and as impenetrable as brass; when they longed 
 to turn back to nought, but found themselves shut 
 into existence by everlasting bars, and doomed to eter- 
 nal consciousness by the decree of him who changeth 
 not, though Heaven and earth pass away; when they 
 wanted to curse the day of their birth, but feeling the 
 guilt to be theirs, durst not indulge even that misera- 
 ble gratification, and went away, broken-hearted, into 
 the remotest corner, and sat down and wept sore and 
 long. But while they are weeping, all at once, be- 
 hold! a ray of light breaks through the darkness of 
 their souls. Hearken! a voice comes from above, — 
 and O the blessed message ! Rejoice greatly, O daugh- 
 
20 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 ter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem; behold, 
 thy King cometh unto thee; he is just and having sal- 
 vation. And they, shedding tears of joy, reply — 
 Hosanna to the Son of David, who cometh in the name 
 of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest! They remem- 
 ber all this, I say, and they know that it is the appro- 
 priate glory of Christ, and his highest desire and de- 
 light, so to appear to perishing sinners when all else 
 have forsaken them. They want that he should be 
 filled with the travail of his soul and be satisfied. Nor 
 can they rest easy until their consciences bear them 
 witness that they are doing all they can to prepare his 
 way, and that they are continually praying for his 
 coming. 
 
 III. The disciples have no sooner tuned their voi- 
 ces to the sacred song, than the people join them — a 
 delightful chorus. They cut branches from the sur- 
 rounding trees, and spread them into the way; they 
 spare not their very garments. A foretaste of celestial 
 joy absorbs every other thought throughout the whole 
 company. This is the regular course of things. 
 When Christians wake up, the people rejoice; while 
 Christians slumber, the people will continue in the 
 road to death. Exceptions to this rule are rare. 
 
 It is delightful to sec the people ivilling in the day 
 of God's power, crowding around Christ. But there 
 is still a thought which not unfrequently casts a veil 
 over the scene. They are willing; but O that they 
 were determined to serve Christ! Not your ga^-ments 
 he wants, but your hearts! Not your willingness to 
 rejoice in his light; your fixed, immoveable purpose to 
 be his forever. This is what he wants, and what alone 
 
CHlfelST^S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 21 
 
 nvill make Christians of you, and save you. Nor is 
 the distance between a willingness to be a Christian 
 and a determination to be one, trifling. It is enor^ 
 «ious! Angels cannot tell the number of those who 
 perished, with all the ivillingness in the world, to be 
 saved, — simply because firmness of purpose was 
 wanting. 
 
 I will do no wrong to our willing people to-day. I 
 do not believe, as many do, that this body of men, who 
 are now singing hosanna, were the very same ones 
 who, a few days after, roared out, " Crucify him! cru- 
 cify him! " Ours is a company of strangers, who 
 came to the feast; and having heard of Lazarus' re- 
 surrection from the grave, went out to see him, and 
 rejoiced, and glorified God. They are well disposed 
 people; and being strangers, and dispersed in the large 
 city among friends and acquaintances, they could 
 hardly have received information of what was going on 
 in that darkest of all nights, when Christ was betrayed 
 and condemned to death. And the first word which 
 probably most of them heard of it was, that the young 
 Rabbi was condemned to death, and just hurrying to 
 the place of execution. But the clamorous crowd be- 
 fore Pilate's door was chiefly from the mob of Jerusa- 
 lem, well known, and in their interests wedded to the 
 high priests and Pharisees; and they were probabJy 
 called together by some special effort of these ecclesi- 
 astical dignitaries. For these cautious assassins ex- 
 pressly said, "Not on the feast-day, lest there be an 
 uproar among the people;" and they pressed on all 
 the night to accomplish their purpose with the most 
 unheard-of anxiety and vigor. 
 3 
 
22 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 Still, there were doubtless among our willing people 
 many with whom the divine word and divine joys fell 
 into stony ground, and having not root, withered in 
 the time of offence and persecution. There were those 
 whose hearts had begun to be overrun with the thorns 
 and briers of worldly cares and plans, or were becom- 
 ing hard, like the broad highway of honor, wealth, and 
 pleasure, " which leadeth unto death." Now they re- 
 joice and are nigh to the kingdom of Heaven; they 
 are willing. But many of them wanting depth, single- 
 ness of purpose and determination, they soon faint, 
 and give it all up again; and this day of high religious 
 privilege, instead of becoming a blessing to them, will 
 prove a curse and a condemnation forever. Still, some 
 of our happy company to-day, who perhaps never be- 
 fore had sung hosanna to the Son of David, are doubt- 
 less now singing his nobler praise in the world above. 
 May the number of such be great! And may we learn 
 of them the value of an unperverted, plain good sense, 
 and of openness to the truth, which often prepare the 
 way of Christ in our hearts; while artificial minds, 
 thrown out of balance by an overstock of earthborn 
 knowledge, such as we shall meet with under the next 
 head, are sure to meet with the doom of reprobation. 
 
 IV. No class of men, it seems, followed Christ 
 more perseveringly in his ministrations, than the Phar- 
 isees. Where he is, there they are also. Even 
 here, on the top of the solitary mount of Olives, they 
 are present, with no profit or pleasure, either to them- 
 selves, or to anybody else. Methinks I can see them 
 standing on some elevation along the road, to see the 
 fanatical, uninstructed people pass by, while they 
 
CHRIST S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 23 
 
 wisely shake their heads at their extravagance. They 
 affect to despise those who accompany Christy and yet 
 they are again and again anxious for their perishing 
 cause, and say to one another, "Perceive ye how ye 
 prevail nothing? behold, the world is gone after him." 
 And when they hear the people bursting out into ho- 
 sannas, they can contain themselves no longer, but 
 addressing Christ while he is passing by, they exclaim, 
 ''Master, rebuke thy disciples; " to which Christ re- 
 plies, "I tell you that if these should hold their peace, 
 the stones would immediately cry out! " 
 
 The Pharisees do not appear here, as in other in- 
 stances, in the character of self-righteous men in par- 
 ticular, for this besetting sin of theirs was not especi- 
 ally called into exercise in the present instance. They 
 appear to me to act simply as a set of distant, cold- 
 hearted men, whose deep-rooted prejudices did not per- 
 mit them to sympathize with the feelings of the people 
 who surrounded Christ. The Pharisees were a studi 
 ous class of men, who had enough to do to master the 
 enormous mass of their traditions, some of which are 
 by no means destitute of interest. Their heads were 
 well stored with such knowledge as their age afforded, 
 and their hearts enjoyed a degree of self-confidence 
 far outstripping the extent of their mental acquisi- 
 tions, as is usually the case with learned men who 
 are destitute of true religion. They had everything, 
 and knew everything; and were quite prepared to mas- 
 ter all the world, while they themselves had no idea of 
 making any new experience, or admitting any truth 
 which they could not draw from their own fountain. 
 
 There is an unhappy and spoiled class of studious 
 
24' IVTEDITATIONS. 
 
 and cultivated men, called literary, who, by an undue' 
 and disproportioned cultivation of the iritellect, have so^ 
 far killed every affection of the heart, as to be unwil- 
 ling, and at last naturally unable, to go with their feel- 
 ings one inch farther than the most common relations 
 of life would necessarily carry a man. For the other 
 world and its realities they have syllogisms enough, 
 but no affections. In speculating on these things^ 
 they will go with any one to any length to which their 
 powers can stretch, and they will be delighted with the 
 most hair-splitting and unpractical sophisms on the sub- 
 jects of God, eternity, immortality, personal identity, 
 moral accountability,, etc. etc. But as for feeling, they 
 are the very last men. Repentance.'* Ah! that will 
 do for vicious people. Faith.'' Oh yes! for the illiter- 
 ate, who are groping in the darkness of vulgar igno- 
 rance, faith is necessary indeed, and a very excellent 
 thing to keep them steady. But for such men as we!' 
 Regeneration, communion with God and heavenly 
 things, peace and joy in the Holy Ghost! Oh intolera- 
 ble mysticism! And what makes the condemnation of 
 these ruined men the surer, is that they are usually 
 moral people. Close habits of study and severe appli- 
 cation are utterly inconsistent with sensual indulgences, 
 and in all common case& preclude immoral and licen- 
 tious habits. Hence they are fully satisfied that they 
 are right, and every idea which they cannot reach with 
 the scale and dividers of their philosophy, is folly; 
 every exercise of devotion which does not grow in the 
 sandy desert of their own experience, is fanaticism; 
 and every religious feeling which they do not find in 
 the ice4iouse of their unfeeling hearts, is nonsense and 
 
Christ's entrance into Jerusalem. 25 
 
 extravagance. They have built up for themselves a 
 system; and because that system is harmonious with 
 itself, they most vainly and unphilosophically suppose 
 that it must needs be time too; and thus they confidently 
 venture their souls and all eternity upon it. But it is one 
 thing for a theory to be consistent, and quite another 
 thing to be true. And if it should turn out to be fact, 
 that their theory is false, and that of the Bible true, 
 (and their own philosophy recognizes this tremendous 
 possibility) they are undone forever! But they have 
 no idea they can be wrong. In times of religious ex- 
 citement, they smile, they wonder, and gainsay, and 
 perish; and if Christ himself were present, they would 
 have no hesitation to pass their sage sentence upon his 
 character, superciliously to reprove his conduct, and 
 to teach him how to wield and manage the helm of the 
 church. They wish for no teaching from above; they 
 shut themselves out from the privilege of any new 
 spiritual experiences, and make themselves voluntarily 
 a kind of intellectual brute beasts, unfit for that sanctu- 
 ary above, where "Holiness to the Lord " is written 
 upon every vessel, and where nothing but the absolute 
 perfection which Christ possesses and bestows has 
 currency and value. 
 
 V. "And when he was come near, he beheld the 
 city and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, 
 even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which be- 
 long unto thy peace! but now they are hid from thine 
 eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, that thine 
 enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass 
 thee round and keep thee in on every side, and shall 
 lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within 
 3* 
 
^6 M^bltATlOJfS^. 
 
 thee; and they shall not leave in thee one ston6 tipoW 
 another, because thou knowest not the time of thy vis-^ 
 itation." 
 
 They had probably passed the bi'ook of Cedron by 
 this time, and began to ascend towards the gate next 
 to the temple, — to which, on account of the utter con- 
 fusion that reigns on the subject of the order in which^ 
 the gates of ancient Jerusalem should be located, I 
 dare assign no particular name. Nor is this of any 
 consequence. They are now about entering the city^ 
 The road begins to be crowded; the buzz of the multi- 
 tude, partly natives of Jerusalem, and partly stran-' 
 gers who were present on account of the approaching 
 feast, all thronging^ the streets and the gates, now 
 break upon the ear. What could be more apt to re- 
 mind Christ of that period when Jerusalem, crowded^ 
 to overflowing, would become the theatre of wars, in- 
 testine aiid" foreign, civil and religious, of famine, dis- 
 ease, fire, theft, highway robbery, assassination, can- 
 nibalism, treason, revenge, despair and blasphemy, 
 and at last of utter destruction, so as actually to admit 
 of no parallel, either in sacred or profanes history. 
 The very prepai'ation of the people for a holy seasoUy 
 the cheerfulness and the high flow of spirits they in- 
 dulged in, must have deepened the gloom of the dismal 
 picture presented to his mind. 
 
 He looked up to the unhappy city, whose last ray of 
 glory was now about to be extinguished, which was 
 herself just sealing her doom by neglecting the time 
 of her last visitation of mercy. He looked up, and' 
 wept. How eminently he was the master of his emo- 
 tions and his tears, and how sparing with the latter. 
 
CHRIST S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM, 2Y 
 
 tve have more proofs than we need in his history. The 
 sight of Gethsemane, as he passed it a few minutes 
 before, drew no tear from his eyes; the sight of Je- 
 rusalem breaks his heart. In the presence of a gaz- 
 ing multitude, a flood of tears rolls down his cheeks, 
 and out of the abundance of his tender heart his 
 mouth speaketh, overflowing with sentiments of com- 
 passion. The sins of this rebellious and untoward 
 generation, *' stiffhecked and uncircumcised in hearts 
 and ears," though they reached to the very heavens, 
 seemed to be forgotten; their approaching rwin is all 
 he can now realize. They are ready to murder himj 
 but oh! how can his heart bear to dwell on his own 
 sufferings, when the gathering storm of hail, mingled 
 with fire, prepares to pour upon his guilty people. Ah! 
 to suflJer is dreadful, but to suffer guilty, infinitely 
 guilty, as they did, is to have a foretaste of the ter- 
 rors of the reprobate gouls of the damned. 
 
 When I think of the moment when he burst out into 
 weeping, his eyes uplifted, suffused with tears, tears 
 rolling down his countenance unrestrained, trickling 
 down upon his garments; when I read his words and 
 think of the thrill of his faltering voice, of the work- 
 ings of his heart, and the heavings of his breast; and 
 then converge all the other circumstances to one point 
 to form a perfect image of that love, — and then to 
 draw it, — -my pen drops from my hand, — I dare not 
 approach the task. To pull off my shoes on this holy 
 ground is not enough; 1 want to be meditating with 
 my face pressed down into the deepest dust. 
 
 He wept over the woes of a single city; and do you 
 thiiik that he never wept over the woes of a world? 
 
^8' M£©ITATI0NS^ 
 
 He wept in public, where he would certainly restrain 
 his feelings as much as possible; and do you think he 
 never wept in secret? Could we lift the sacred veil of 
 his solitary hours; of his seasons of retirement, while 
 an obscure workman of Nazareth; of his forty days of 
 fasting and prayer in the wilderness; of his vigils on 
 tke mountain-tops and in the deserts; what prayers, 
 what intercessions, what tears, what tender and heav- 
 enly sympathies, with the sorrows and woes of human- 
 ity, would come to light f His affections were not 
 limited to Judea; he did not love those merely who 
 loved him. He wept at the grave of Lazarus, and 
 over the distress of Martha and Mary ; and why not 
 over the great congregation of the dead of more than 
 a hundred and thirty generations past, and over all the 
 broken hearts of widows and starving orphans from 
 the beginning of the world ? Why not over the dis- 
 tress of all the sick, the delirium of the deranged, the 
 agonies of the dying? Do you now see why he went 
 about with restless assiduity to console, to comfort, to 
 bind up broken hearts, raising the dead, curing and 
 cleansing and restoring men to the enjoyment of health, 
 sight, hearing, and reason? How could he do other- 
 wise with a heart like his? He would have done so, 
 though no man had believed in him on th^t account, or 
 returned to him a grateful word or look. 
 
 But if he wept over the miseries of Jerusalem, much 
 more must he have mourned over their impenitence. 
 " If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy 
 day, the things which belong unto thy peace! " In- 
 deed, this was the sole cause of their ultimate ruin. 
 He says expressly that all these horrors would aver- 
 
CHRIST ^S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 29^ 
 
 take them, '"because thou knewest not the time of thy 
 visitation." The measure of their guilt was fast filling 
 up; the disregarded tears and entreaties of Christ sealed 
 their doom; and from the time of his death to the sack- 
 ing of Jerusalem and the dissolution of the state, they 
 went down with rapid declination. Like a rock that 
 has long been projecting on some lofty mountain top, 
 but now rolls down through the wild forest and over 
 opposing hills, fences, and dwellings, every obstacle 
 adding strength to its restless precipitation, until it has 
 reached the bottom of the unvisited gulf, or the deep 
 sea below, leaving nothing behind save the forcible 
 illustration of that swift destruction which overtakes 
 "wickedness in high places." 
 
 Have you never seen the starving wretch, who with 
 unusual skill, information, and enterprise sails through 
 seas, and roams, like the evil spirit in Job, up and 
 down in the earth, attempting everything, and whose 
 whole life is but one unbroken chain of failures, until, 
 shivering with cold and half naked, he begs at tho 
 door of the ignorant but godly farmer, whom formerly 
 he would have disdained to have set with the dogs of 
 his flock? Who is he.'' "Lo, this is the man," says 
 David, "that made not God his strength." In nine 
 cases out of ten, a secret curse will be cleaving to his 
 fugitive heels; the tears of a pious mother, or a de- 
 serted godly wife are burning upon his soul; the dying 
 groans of seduced, unwary youths, of ruined inno- 
 cence, and the sighs and sorrows of decrepit, starving, 
 degraded parents give him no rest, — the curse of 
 God has become his inseparable shadow, and the very 
 atmosphere in which he lives and moves. Every 
 
30 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 cheerful sunbeam seems to disclose his hidden crimes, 
 every growling thunder to utter the sentence of his 
 deed of darkness. But with all this, he may repent, 
 return, and live, if he has never heard the voice of 
 Christ; if he never knew him; and he is unspeakably 
 happier than that undone, forlorn soul, who neglected 
 the day of heavenly visitation, upon whom the tears of 
 a despised Saviour rest with insufferable weight, and 
 who, reprobate, and given over like Judas, " chooses 
 strangling rather than life," and the reality of eternal 
 ruin, rather than its dreadful anticipation. Oh! it is 
 terrible to fall into the hand of the living God! Search 
 us, O God, and know our hearts; try us and know our 
 thoughts; and see if there be any evil way in us; and 
 lead us into the way which is everlasting. 
 
 " And when Jesus was come into Jerusalem, all the 
 city was moved, saying, Who is this ? And the multitude 
 said. This is Jesus, the prophet, of Nazareth of Gali- 
 lee." " And Jesus entered into the temple: and when 
 he had looked round about upon all things, and now 
 the even-tide was come, he went out unto Bethany 
 with the twelve." 
 
 Here finishes the account of our Lord's entrance 
 into Jerusalem. May God grant his blessing upon this 
 imperfect meditation, and may Jesus enter into the 
 heart of each one of us! Amen. 
 
 ^' 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 II. 
 
 « FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME.' 
 
 JOHN XII, 20—32. 
 
 And there were certain Greeks among them that came up to worship at tlie 
 feast: The same came therefore to Philip, which was of Bethsaida of Galilee, 
 and desired him, saying, Sir, we would see Jesus. Philip cometh, and telleth 
 Andrew; and again Andrew and Philip tell Jesus. And Jesus answered them, 
 saying, The hour is come, that the Son of man should be glorified. Verily, verily, 
 I say unto yon, except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth 
 alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose 
 it: and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal. If any 
 man serve me, let him follow me 3 and where I am, there shall also my servant 
 be: if any man serve me, him will my Father honor. Now is ray soul troubled j 
 and what shall I say.'' Father, save me from this hour: but for this cause came I 
 onto this hour. F&ther, glorify thy name. Then came there a voice from Heaven^ 
 saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again. The people therefore that 
 stood by, and heard it, said that it thundered: others said, an angel spake to him. 
 Jesus answered and said, This voice came not because of me, but for your sakes. 
 Now is the judgment of this world; now shall the prince of this world be cast out. 
 And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me. 
 
 The fact that the Evangelist St. John introduced the 
 occurrence related in our text, immediately after the 
 entrance of Christ into Jerusalem, seems to indicate 
 that it happened very soon after it, — probably the day 
 
:SS MEDITATlONiS. 
 
 following. Th« scene of our text was, in my opinion, 
 the temple itself, where our Lord seems to have spent 
 most of the time during the last week of his earthly 
 career. According to St. Luke "He taught the peo- 
 ple in the temple and preached the Gospel" in 'Hhose 
 days." *'The blind and the lame came to him into 
 the temple and he healed them," says Matthew; and 
 ^*the chief priests and scribes saw the wonderful things 
 that he did, and the children crying in the temple and 
 saying, Hosanna to the Son of David!" A very con- 
 siderable number of parables, of controversial dia- 
 logues, and of hortatory addresses, all delivered in the 
 temple, fell within these few laborious days of our 
 Lord's life; and were we to treat upon them all sepa- 
 rately, our series of discourses would necessarily be 
 extended to a most immoderate length. But having 
 purposed to confine ourselves to what our Lord did., 
 and suffered in those days, we shall not be chargeable 
 with inconsistency, if we leave the explanation and 
 application of what He said to others, or defer it to 
 some future season. 
 
 The event in our text falls perhaps most properly 
 into the sphere of our meditations, although it does 
 consist in a great degree of sentiments uttered by our 
 Lord, and not of deeds or sufferings. I am, however, 
 so much the more unwilling to bring it under a category, 
 which would throw it out of our contemplated series 
 of discourses; as the sentiments which it brought to 
 light are of the most unrivalled beauty and importance, 
 and the whole occurrence in the highest degree profit- 
 «,ble and practical. 
 
If ATHER, GLORIFY THY NAMll. 33 
 
 1 shall not, as I am in the habit of doing, divide the 
 present discourse into several heads, for fear the 
 spirituality of my text might suffer through the confine- 
 ment of rule and form. We shall pass over the t«xt as 
 it is, and stop at such places as afford pecAiliar scope 
 for meditation. 
 
 It was then during one of those interesting seasons, 
 while Christ was teaching the people in the temple, 
 and preaching the Gospel, the people listening with 
 «ndivided attention to his gracious words, the high 
 priests and scribes standing aloof, pale with anxiety 
 and indignation, and the children singing hosanna; it 
 was during one of those few unequalled days, when the 
 Saviour stood in the temple amid the poor, the blind, 
 the deaf, the maimed, the halt, and the wretched of 
 every description, healing, comforting, pouring health 
 and life and joy around, though his own heart was 
 groaning secretly with gloomier forebodings than man 
 can conceive; it was during one of those scenes of 
 mingled and obsorbing interest, that certain Greeks, 
 among them that came up to worship at the feast, 
 *' came to Philip which was of Bethsaida of Galilee, and 
 desired him, saying, Sir, we would see Jesus." They 
 accosted Philip, either because he happened to be most 
 accessible to them in the crowd, or most likely because, 
 he being a Galilean Jew, they felt more boldness 
 towards him, if indeed they were not previously ac- 
 quainted with him. They address this common Jew 
 respectfully, "Sir," — and express their modest desire 
 to "see Jesus" with truly beautiful and winning sim- 
 plicity. 
 
 "Sir, we would see Jesus!" How delightful' 
 4 
 
34 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 Should not one's heart leap with joy at such a request? 
 What Christian would not, in the midst of a thousand 
 other pr-essing engagements, pay at once the most 
 cheerful and undivided attention to such lovely, inter- 
 esting inquirers? " Sir, we would see Jesus!" Well 
 done! The most blessed desire that ever sprang up in 
 a mortal's breast. Oh! if we could but hear this 
 question addressed to us, this melancholy place with all 
 its gathering storms, yea, the very wilderness of eter- 
 nal ice, or eternal sand, would instantaneously bud 
 and blossom as Carmel and as Sharon. You would 
 see Jesus ? Good! You shall see him! would be the 
 joyful echo of our hearts; and as Philip run fortliwith 
 to Andrew, and they both crowd their way farther on 
 to Jesus, to tell him of it, when he was in the very midst 
 of preaching and healing, — so should we communicate 
 the glad tidings to each other. This man, that family, 
 would see Jesus, — and with united hearts should we 
 bring the blessed petition to the throne of his grace. 
 
 But ah! a long and melancholy sigh heaves my 
 bosom, and I cannot help it. Where are those inquir- 
 ers? where are they? Who would see Jesus? I must 
 stop; for if I proceed my remarks must instantly 
 become personal. We turn to our Greeks. 
 
 It is delightful to observe the anxiety with which 
 these strangers endeavor to seize the fleeting hour of 
 peculiar religious privilege, and the modesty with 
 which they request a minute of interrupted intercourse 
 with the despised and humble Jesus. What shame and 
 puilt does not their conduct reflect upon those, who 
 bear the honorable name of Christians, and who might 
 enjoy the most uninterrupted and jpeculiar Jamiliarity 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 35 
 
 with the exalted and glorijied Jesus; but who neglect 
 nothing so much and so ghidlj, as to see him in the 
 closet, or to meet him and his people in the solemn 
 assembly of his house. Yoic would rather not see 
 Jesus, ye despisers of his love. You want no inter- 
 view with him. But, depend upon it, you ivill have an 
 interview with him ere long, when neither business 
 nor pleasure, neither mountains nor rocks will hide you 
 from his heart-dissolving looks; when neither the buzz 
 and laughter of a crazy world, nor the sound of the 
 viol and the timbrel in your feasts will drown the thun- 
 der of his voice. Then you will see him, whether you 
 "would " or not; and he who now speaks in the har- 
 monious accents of dying love to save you, will utter 
 the sentence of your endless ruin in peals of thunder 
 which will shake the frame-work of the universe. 
 
 According to the best critics, these Greeks were 
 Greeks by birth, and not hellenistic Jews, as some 
 have supposed. They were aliens from the common- 
 wealth of Israel. They came from far to worship at 
 Jerusalem, and humbly to seek the acquaintance of 
 Christ, while high priest, pharisees, scribes, and other 
 Jews at Jerusalem were standing coldly and proudly 
 at a distance; yea, while they were in the very act of 
 preparing for the blackest of all crimes ever committed 
 under the sun; and while Judas was standing perhaps 
 nearest to his Lord with the very shame of hell matur- 
 ing in his breast. 
 
 External religious privileges are an earnest, either 
 of uncommon glory and exaltation in Heaven, or of 
 uncommon condemnation and suffering in hell. Abra- 
 ham saw the day of Christ, and rejoiced; and he rejoices 
 
3G MEDITATIONS, 
 
 now, and his joy will never cease. Balam saw the (fay 
 of Christ, and with an aggravated condemnation he 
 went to receive the reward of iniquity. The higher 
 the station, the deeper the fall. Man fell — into the 
 slough of sin; Lucifer fell — into the "bottomless pit."' 
 So did John, Peter, NicOdemus, Nathaniel, and others 
 see Christ, — and Annas saw him too, and Caiaphas 
 and Herod, and Pilate, and Judas; but the doom of 
 the latter ones was enhanced by the privilege they had 
 enjoyed, more than human calculation can express. 
 Aud what then was true, is true still! Trust brings 
 with it responsibility, and when betrayed it brings guilt; 
 and many a savage, who knows no more of Christ than 
 what he may have retained from a single sermon of 
 some passing missionary, may get a place in the 
 "temple not made with hands," while thousands from 
 the very heart of Christendom, with tlieir heads full o€ 
 earth-born wisdom, and their hearts full of folly, with 
 their neglected Bibles in their left and with " a lie " in 
 their "right hand," will go down to the mansions of 
 evergrowing wickedness and pain, whither Hope and 
 Mercy never descend, and where pale Despair and 
 raging Madness have fixed forever their red-hot thrones. 
 The modesty and anxiety of our inquiring Greeks 
 would, under any other circumstances, have been the 
 most favorable introduction to our Lord. But now it 
 was too late — for private interviews at least, too late. 
 That our Lord did n4}t admit these Greeks, I infer from 
 the circumstance that no mention is made of their in- 
 troduction to him, and chiefly from verse 27, which 
 contains such sentiments as he would hardly have ad- 
 dressed to strangers. Moreover^the wkole straia of 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME, 37 
 
 his remarks was too highly spiritual to suit the compre- 
 hension of the most sincere beginners in religion, — and 
 such, no doubt, our strangers were. 
 
 The time of familiar intercourse was fast passing 
 away with our Lord, the work of his ministry was has- 
 tening to its close, to give room to his still higher office 
 of mediation between God and man, through the sacri- 
 fice of himself in behalf of a fallen world. 
 
 As Philip and Andrew, therefore, bring the request 
 of our strangers before Jesus, they receive substan- 
 tially the following reply, indirect indeed, but equally 
 profound and comprehensive in point of import. I 
 cannot see these dear men, for " the hour is come that 
 the Son of Man should be glorified." My hardest and 
 noblest work now begins, — that of redeeming love. 
 I, who in the beginning spake, and it was; at the 
 breath of whose mouth worlds, immense and countless 
 to human sense and reason, started on their enormous 
 revolutions with a rapidity which derides every stretch 
 of thought; around the lowest steps of whose throne 
 stars and suns floated like the small "dust of the 
 balance;" for the performance of whose sovereign 
 pleasure the whole multitude of angels, powers, princi- 
 palities, andd ominions stood in humble readiness, each 
 with holy emulation craving the privilege of my lowest 
 service ; I now shall serve, sufl*er and die, freely, 
 compelled by nothing save my own choice, my own love 
 for sinners. As in power, wisdom, and justice, so in 
 love I must, I will be first in Heaven and on earth. I, 
 clothed in human flesh, shall suffer the punishment due 
 to a rebellious world. The Son of Man, the Son of 
 
 God will be glorified. He will be glorified in his 
 
 4* 
 
5^ IttE CITATIONS. 
 
 sufferings and in his death, which will show his lot^ 
 supreme, will force the last entrenchment of Satan, and 
 create, not a material and finite world from nothing, but 
 'A SPIRITUAL and everlasting creation from far less 
 than nothing, — from an enormous minus quantity of sin 
 and corruption. The Son of Man shall be glorified 
 after his death, when he shall resume, dressed in human 
 nature, his omnipotence, and rule as Creator, Preserver 
 and Redeemer. 
 
 '* The hour is come that the Son of Man should be 
 glorified " in the same mysterious way of previous 
 death, in which all sublunary things pass on to life and 
 being. Here, there is no light without shade, no 
 victory without conflict, no rest without labor, no satis- 
 faction without want, no life without death. When 
 the proud rejoicing lion is torn to pieces and rotten, 
 then meat comes forth from the eater, and sweetness 
 from the strong. "Except a. corn of wheat fall into 
 the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it 
 bringeth forth much fruit," and when the flesh of the 
 just is mouldering in the cold grave, then his redeemed 
 and sanctified soul, like the pure white lily from the 
 moor, rises to bloom forever in the paradise of God. 
 Let, therefore, these men mark the following great 
 truth, and it will be better for them than all the inter- 
 views which 1 would give them at present. " He that 
 loveth his life shall lose it: and he that hateth his life, 
 shall keep it." "And if (they or) any (other) man 
 will serve me, let him (and them) follow me." Then 
 they will have an interview with me, though it be not 
 now; for "where I am, there shall also my servant be. 
 If any man will serve me, him will my Father honor." 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 5^ 
 
 " Oh the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and 
 knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judg- 
 ments and his ways past finding out!" Oh the folly 
 and madness of the world, who hunt after greatness, 
 preferment, wealth, and pleasure, in the sweat of their 
 brow, and to the unavoidable ruin of their souls! If 
 the words of Christ be true, if the death of our own 
 lusts and desires is the way to life, then they hunt for 
 death, they hunt for eternal shame, poverty, and pain. 
 
 Thus far the reply of Christ to the Greeks of our 
 text; and what important practical lesson it did contain 
 for the rest of the people about him then, and still does 
 contain to all of u^s now, is too plain to need any far- 
 ther explanation. 
 
 Another scene opens. Christ had no sooner givers 
 his answer, than he feels his mind drawn to the con- 
 templation of his own future sufferings; and being ac- 
 customed ta follow those inward hints which he knew 
 to be from above, he does not suppress his rising emo- 
 tions. The Father had decreed to give one more au- 
 dible testimony to his beloved Son, and for this the way 
 was now to be paved. It may be his eye lighted upon 
 Judas, or upon the priests, pharisees and scribes in 
 their corner, and an association of ideas brought in- 
 stantly before him the gathering storm of his approach- 
 ing passion: or, the admiring, rejoicing multitude and 
 the children singing hosanna, reminded him by way 
 of contrast of the contempt and hateful spite which 
 would but too soon be poured upon him, and of the 
 dreadful "Crucify! Crucify him!" which, shouted by 
 a ruthless mob, would stun his hearing; — and fear and 
 misgivings natural to most untarnished humanity, fill 
 
40 MfiDITATlONS. 
 
 his bosom. His feelings demand utterance, and he 
 cannot and will not hide them. "Now is my soul 
 troubled." The devout attention of this multitude, the 
 songs of these innocent lambs of my dear flock, and 
 the modest and interesting request of those godly 
 strangers, are gratifying to me; but oh! I look but a 
 step before me, and darkness, darker than Egyptian 
 night, covers my path, and my very soul melts with fear. 
 Oh that that dreadful hour were past! But, what shall 
 I say.'' Shall I plead exemption from it? Shall I wish 
 to enjoy even the most lawful comfort, when, by deny- 
 ing it, the conquest over the prince of this world may 
 be completed, the glory of my Father in Heaven pro- 
 moted, and this perishing world saved? Are not these 
 very sufferings the great object of my coming in the 
 flesh? Yes! " For this cause came I unto this hour." 
 Then let it come upon me ; and let all my desires, 
 and wishes, however lawful and proper, — let all my 
 own interests (for even pure human nature has some) 
 — let all my thoughts and feelings be lost in the all- 
 absorbing petition, "Father, glorify thy namel" 
 
 Thus Christ. Ye, who have a sense for things 
 heavenly and divine, behold and admire the workings 
 of a holy mind. Behold the logic of Heaven, and the 
 most unexampled illustration of the moral sentiment 
 which will never be sufficiently admired — "It is more 
 blessed to give than to receive." Shall we again con- 
 sult our own interests? Can we, while this model of 
 all perfection is before us on the pages of sacred his- 
 tory? We should be anything but Christians, if we 
 could. But we cannot — we will not. In all our ways 
 and works we will confess with the spirit of holiness 
 
FATHER, GLOBIFY THY NAME. 41 
 
 and of love only. In the eyes of the world we may 
 appear as losing our lives, — but we shall find them 
 again unto life eternal. 
 
 The great object of our Lord'^s coming was the ex- 
 piatory sacrifice necessary for the redemption of sinners. 
 " For this cause came I unto this hour." By this the 
 separating wall between God and the sinner is done 
 away, and every believer's eternal interests secured. 
 He who has begun the work of our redemption foi-' 
 us, will complete it also in us; and the only and all- 
 absorbing task of our lives is the delightful one of doing 
 his will, and glorifying his name, out of gratitude for 
 our soul's salvation. Doing this, we shall act in the 
 spirit and from the principle of Jesus in the elevated 
 occurrence of our text. And for this cause he has 
 acted as it were publicly, that we may behold him and 
 admire and imitate his example .^ This is directly en- 
 joined upon us by his apostles. "Let this mind be in. 
 you which was also in Christ Jesus: who, being in the 
 form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with 
 God: but made himself of no reputation, and took upon 
 himself the form of a servant and was made in the 
 likeness of men, and being found in fashion as a man, 
 he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, 
 even the death of the cross." "We have the mind 
 of Christ" exclaims the same apostle. Every man 
 whose ruling affiections, whose prayers and actions do 
 not close in with the great petition of Christ, "Father, 
 glorify thy name!" is no Christian; and his hope will 
 prove a spider's web in the day when God shall take 
 away his soul. This is the great dividing line between 
 converted and unconverted men. No man can seek 
 
42 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 two things supremely. He that seeks himself supremely 
 is an unconverted man, and he that seeks the glory of 
 God supremely is a converted man. It is clearer than 
 noonday; who can deny it.'' 
 
 "Then came there a voice from Heaven, saying, I 
 have both glorified it, and will glorify it again. The 
 people therefore that stood by and heard it, said that 
 it thundered ; others said an angel spake to him. 
 Jesus answered and said. This voice came not because 
 of me, but for your sakes.'* 
 
 Nothing can be more insipid than the idle conjecture 
 of some, that the voice spoken of in our text, was 
 thunder, which John, taking it for a sign of God's com- 
 placency with the petition of our Lord, interpreted as 
 meaning, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it 
 again. A refutation in form would be too gratuitous 
 to be attempted here. I merely ask, Did God never 
 manifest himself in a sensible manner.'' Shall we mock 
 the very pages of the soberest history, — not to say of 
 holy writ.'' Was there a thunder-storm at the baptism 
 of Christ, when a voice was heard down from Heaven, 
 saying, "This is my beloved son .^" Then the Holy 
 Spirit, coming down visibly and reinaining on Christ, 
 was a flash of lightening, — was it.'* Was there a 
 thunder-storm on mount Tabor, when Christ had that 
 memorable and protracted interview with Moses and 
 Elijah, when his own garments and countenance were 
 transformed, and shining, and when the testimony " this 
 is my beloved son" was repeated! Was there a thun- 
 der-storm in that bush on mount Horeb, which Moses 
 saw burning yet unconsumed, from which he heard 
 words, to which words he replied, received back again 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 4S 
 
 answers, commands, promises, reproofs, and long 
 enough to fill up the whole third and half of the fourth 
 chapter of Exodus? Was there a thunder-storm on 
 Sinai, when, under the most magnificent and terrific 
 display of the divine presence, six hundred thousand 
 men, most of them not favorably disposed, heard with 
 their own ears the ten commandments, word after word, 
 pouring down over the barren rocks like an ocean of 
 sounds, and rolling in lowering billows over the lonely 
 desert, with majestic and fearful reverberation, until 
 their very souls were melted, and their strength ex- 
 hausted, and they compelled to exclaim. Let us not 
 hear again the voice of Jehovah our God, neither let 
 us see this great fire any more, that we die not? Was 
 there a thunder-storm in the tabernacle at Shiloh, when 
 God called four times ' Samuel, Samuel,' and after the 
 fourth time, when Samuel answered, " Speak, Lord, for 
 thy servant heareth, "communicated to him minutely the 
 long train of punishments which were to overtake the 
 house of Eli? Believe these idle conjectures who can. 
 We find it both easier and more reasonable to believe the 
 unexceptionable testimony of Scripture. If the doubts 
 of "unreasonable and wicked men" must have such 
 power of demonstration, we deplore their condition, and 
 prefer to believe "the witness of God!" But there 
 appear to be men, who are really reprobate to the faith 
 and who cannot believe though one should rise from 
 the dead; and upon whom nothing short of the un- 
 quenchable fire will fasten conviction. So some of the 
 people in our text say, it thundered, it is no matter; 
 this is nothing supernatural, or particular; there may 
 
44 MIlDITATION-S, 
 
 be a thunder-storm somewhere in the atmosphere. 
 Others, more candid, said an angel spake to him. 
 
 Permit me a few remarks on the general subject of 
 God's revelations to mankind. If it is of any conse- 
 quence for man to know God, it may be expected of 
 him, as of a benevolent and omnipotent Being, that 
 he would leave nothing untried to make himself known 
 to him, and that he would pour in light unto men's 
 minds by every door and window, cleft and opening, 
 all over the frame of their sensitive, intellectual, and 
 moral nature, — only, of course, so as not to destroy 
 their moral free agency. And so he has done. God 
 has manifested himself to the moral nature of man by 
 an uncontrolable conscience, which warns, rebukes, 
 chastises, threatens with a future, everlasting, and 
 righteous retribution; and sometimes, if not listened to 
 and obeyed, drives men to despair; thus commencing 
 retribution already here. God has manifested himself to 
 the intellectual nature of man, by impressing upon their 
 minds the consciousness of his own existence in such 
 a mannner, that while they can find no syllogism to 
 demonstrate it, they are equally unable to deny it, or 
 to rid themselves of it in any way, and that after ten 
 thousand efforts of the first intellects, on either side of 
 the question, they are compelled to lay down their 
 offensive and defensive weapons at the steps of his sov- 
 reign throne, and to confess, the idea of God is a first 
 and universal truth, which needs no proof, and fears no 
 refutation. But most men listen neither to conscience 
 nor to reason. It was therefore necessary that God 
 should manifest himself to their senses also. This he 
 did, Jirstj in the wonderful works of nature, in their 
 
I'ATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 4§ 
 
 magnitude, the regularity of their laws, their adaptation 
 to innumerable, reasonable, and benevolent ends, and 
 their constant preservation; and secondly, in order to 
 leave nothing untried which could be done without 
 wholly abolishing the dispensation of faith, or destroy- 
 ing man's free agency; he manifested himself to their 
 senses by occasional, extraordinary occurrences in nature, 
 or in the history of mankind; occurrences not capable 
 of being traced back to the ordinary laws of nature, 
 or the common concatenation of events. And these 
 extraordinary exhibitions of his existence and power 
 he showed forth in every, part of creation, to impress 
 us with the great truth, that he is, and that he is Lord 
 of ALL, If any one will take the trouble to collect 
 and to class the miraculous displays of God's power 
 during the times of the Old and the New Dispensation, 
 all of which are well attested, he will obtain an impo- 
 sing picture of miracles, extending to every part of 
 creation, and the symmetry and rationality of which at 
 once demonstrate the identity and the wisdom of the 
 Author, Through some thousands of years there 
 comes down a chain of supernatural effects, wrought 
 in the clear noon-day light, before friends and foes, and 
 which exhibit themselves in rocks, in metals, in the 
 earth, the water, the atmosphere; in fire, in plants, 
 fishes, reptiles, birds, four-footed beasts; in men, in 
 their bodies and their minds; in the luminaries of 
 Heaven; and which addressedt hemselves to the taste, 
 smell, touch, sight, and hearing of all under whose 
 observation they fell, and are now handed down to us, 
 and will be handed down to the end of time, with such 
 clear and strong evidence as would give them before 
 5 
 
46 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 any regular bar of justice all the power of regular, 
 unexceptionable, and conclusive testimony; so that, if 
 a man resists now, he must not only disregard the voice 
 of conscience and the light of reason, but also in real- 
 ity his five senses; i. e. he must resist all the evidence 
 which can be given him, from the very nature of his 
 own constitution, and he must bid defiance to God in 
 Heaven to convince him by anything short of the 
 irresistible arm of his omnipotence. 
 
 Yet this is no uncommon thing. Some of the people 
 in our text say. It thundered: — and the far greater part 
 of Christendom, in reading in the books of nature, of 
 history, of Providence, and in the Bible, of the mercies 
 and judgments of God, give themselves no more con- 
 cern about them, than they would about the dying 
 sound of some distant summer cloud. The harmony of 
 creation and its countless blessings, the most destruc- 
 tive revolutions of nature, the overturning of kingdoms, 
 the deliverance of countries, islands and nations from 
 the thraldom of heathenism, and their conversion to 
 the Christian faith, individual conversions, and judg- 
 ments in their own immediate vicinity, — all leave the 
 stupid infidelity of carnal men alike untouched. Unbe- 
 lief cannot receive instruction, but only punishment. 
 They hear neither Moses nor the prophets, neither 
 Christ nor the apostles, neither conscience nor reason, 
 nor the five senses, nor the voice of history; nor would 
 they believe, if one of the dead should rise; nor would 
 they if the very gates of eternity should be thrown 
 open, and the boundless region of spirit pour upon 
 their senses the whole mass of its unnumbered popula- 
 tion. But it will not be so always. When they shall 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 47 
 
 be with the "rich man" in the flames, and lift up their 
 eyes, " being in torment," they will believe. 
 
 Christ enters into no dispute with the Jews; but after 
 assuring them that this voice was nevertheless come 
 for their sakes, that they might believe, he goes on 
 to say, " Now is the judgment of this world, now shall 
 the prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I be 
 lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me." 
 
 Who "the prince of this world" is, may easily be 
 gathered from John xiv, 3; and xvi, 11; 2 Cor. iy, 4; 
 and Eph. vi, 12. &c. It is Satan, beyond reasonable 
 dispute. About the meaning of his being "cast out," 
 some latitude of opinion must be granted, as we have 
 no means of ascertaining its precise import. My con- 
 viction is, that it has reference to some signal overturn 
 of Satan's power, occasioned by the atoning sacrifice 
 of Jesus Christ, by which fallen humanity was brought 
 nearer to God, and in some "serious respects brought 
 into comparative liberty from the influence and power 
 of the evil one. I will not insist upon the somewhat 
 doubtful subject of heathen oracles — the utter silence 
 of some, and the rapid decline of all, soon after the 
 crucifixion of Christ. The fact is asserted by many 
 church-fathers; Lucan, a heathen writer, laments the 
 silence of the Delphic oracle, the most famous perhaps, 
 no more than thirty years after the death of our Lord; 
 and Plutarch wrote a whole book on the subject of 
 dumb oracles, in which book he endeavors not to refute, 
 but merely to account for, the cessation of oracular 
 responses; and this by theories which do little honor 
 to his penetration. Now, if Satan is engaged in ruining 
 the souls of men, as the Bible unquestionably asserts, 
 
48 MEDITATIQJN'S. 
 
 who can doubt that he had a hand in that great engrne 
 of deception, either through natural or supernatural 
 means? And if the cessation of a machine, at a time 
 when it was most needed to keep up idolatry, cannot 
 well be accounted for from facts and circumstances 
 known, it certainly becomes considerably probable, 
 that the curtailing of Satan's power may have been 
 its chief cause. 
 
 Very consonant with this would be another fact, 
 upon which I should insist much more. I mean the 
 cessation of demoniacal possessions after the death of 
 Christ, which, at the time of his coming and before, were 
 so numerous, and against the reality of which no valid 
 argument has yet been advanced. Matthew speaks of 
 the resurrection of many " saints which slept," who 
 came out of their graves after the death of Christ, and 
 went into the holy city, and appeared unto many; and 
 Peter twice intimates (1 Peter, iii, 19, 20. and rv. 6,) 
 that something took place then in the region of the 
 dead, not unlike to the preaching of the Gospel here, 
 settling the eternal destinies of some souls, whose doom 
 oould not be fixed before that great period. All this 
 leads to the supposition that a mighty revolution was 
 produced by the Saviour's death in the world of spirits, 
 Satan in a sense judged, and his power broken. 
 
 Unto us, however, it suffices to know, for the under- 
 standing of this passage, that by the cross of Christ the 
 empire of Satan was Overturned and will be overturn- 
 ing till he whose right it is shall rule from the rising 
 to the setting sun. To us it suffices to know, that 
 although the gospel did not, and does not enjoy the 
 use of any carnal weapons; although the systems of 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 49 
 
 idolatry were, at the time of Christ and afterwards, 
 guarded by the power and influence of emperors, 
 kings, and princes; although its foul deformities were 
 already then carefully covered by philosophers and 
 hierarchs with the saintly veil of allegories and spirit- 
 ualising comments ; although its more intelligent vota- 
 ries, feeling themselves rather unsafe in the decaying 
 outworks of course polytheism, had made a dextrous 
 retreat into the inner entrenchments of esoteric philos- 
 ophies ; although every imaginable spring and wheel 
 was put into requisition to keep up the cause and king- 
 dom of Satan : yet, the simple story of the cross did 
 overturn the whole stupendous fabric from the bottom, 
 and made havoc of the arch-fiend's combined forces, 
 both in the political and the literary world, until, in all 
 places to which its voice extended, every idol was pros- 
 trated, and every strong-hold forced and razed to the 
 ground. Heathen Rome, with its countless temples, 
 fell; and great was the fall of it. Touched by the 
 stone cut out without hands, the precipitation of its 
 ruin was majestic and tremendous. Down it came, 
 like a mountain of dust before the storm. While its 
 civil patrons gnashed their teeth, and its apologists 
 affected to smile at the tale of the gospel which they 
 could not refute, the chariot wheels of the king of kings 
 drove over their necks and put them to everlasting 
 silence. And ever since, the assaults of the adversa- 
 ries to pull down the pretended Jewish superstition of 
 this doctrine, have reboiinded upon them with double 
 fury, while the cross of Christ has ever come forth 
 from the contest like the sun from behind the impure 
 
 smoke of angry volcanoes, and remains ever fresh in 
 
 5* 
 
50 MEDITATIONS, 
 
 loveliness and strength, the wisdom of God, and the 
 power of God unto salvation unto every one that 
 believeth. 
 
 *' And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all 
 men unto me." As in general, so in particular, the 
 doctrine of the cross is the most formidable weapon 
 which can be used against the empire of darkness ; 
 for, in its nobler contest with the conscience and the 
 sensibilities of man, it levels at the rebellious heart 
 the most overcoming appeals which exist in the whole 
 storehouse of moral suasion. There is a class of men 
 possessed of independent minds, who have actually 
 intrepidity enough to brave eternal retributions, and to 
 bear up under the most terrific denunciations of the 
 broken law of God. How their temper will hold out 
 after death, this is another question ; but here it often 
 does hold out. This is a trait of character by no 
 means laudable, — for it is not courage, but madness ; 
 it is not manly independence, but rebellion against 
 God. But still, it involves a degree of vigor and firm- 
 ness, which, if they were better employed, would reflect 
 much honor upon the character of their possessor, 
 and tend to make him eminently useful. Now, if there 
 be yet left in the heart of such a man a spark of sen- 
 sibility, and if the Gospel be preached to him in all 
 its freeness, the cross in all its beauty, and the love of 
 Christ in all its power, — you may depend upon it, he 
 is overcome. Ashamed of himself, he will submit; he 
 cannot, he would not be so base, so ungrateful as to 
 spurn a love, an affection, a sacrifice so free, so gen- 
 erous, so overcoming. He is a Christian from that 
 moment, and will henceforward employ all his powers 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 51 
 
 to stem the flood of wickedness which rolls over this 
 earth, and use all the firmness and independence of his 
 now sanctified character, to exhibit before the world 
 the example of a consistent and devout follower of 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 And now, beloved, is there one here to-day who 
 "would see Jesus ?" But why one only ? Would we 
 not all rather see him, dearly beloved ? Oh that every 
 heart might now respond to my question, 1 would see 
 Jesus, I would, — I must see Him ! To all such I should 
 answer, — to all such I do answer back again, — " We 
 know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him ; 
 for we shall see him as he is." Amen. 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 MATTHEW XXVI, 3—5, 14—30. 
 
 Then assembled together the chief priests, and the scribes, and the elders of the 
 people, urito the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas, and consulted 
 that they might take Jesus by subtilty and kill him. But they said, Not on the 
 feast-day, lest there be an uproar among the people. 
 
 Then one of the twelve, called Judas Iscarlot, went unto the chief priests, and 
 said unto them, What will ye give me, and I will deliver him unto you? And 
 they covenanted with him for thirty pieces of silver. And from that time he 
 sought opportunity to bftray him. Now the fiist day of the feast of unleavened 
 bread, the disciples came to Jesus, saying unto him, Where wilt thou that we 
 prepare for thee to eat the passover? And he said, Go into the city to such a 
 man, and say unto him, The Master saith, My time is at hand; I will keep the 
 passover at thy house with my disciples. And the disciples did as Jesus had 
 appointed them; and they made ready the passover. Now when the even was 
 come, he sat down with the twelve. And as they did eat, he said. Verily I say 
 unto you, that one of you shall betray me. And they were exceeding sorrowful, 
 and began every one of them to say unto him. Lord, is it I.'' And he answered 
 and said. He that dippeth his hand with me in the dish, the same shall betray me. 
 The Son of man goeth, as it is written of him; but wo unto that man by whom 
 the Son of man is betrayed ! it had been good for that man if he had not been 
 born. Then Judas, which betrayed him, answered and said. Master, is it I? He 
 said unto him, Thou hast said. 
 
 And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave 
 it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat; this is my body. And he took the cup. 
 
54 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye all of it ; for this is my 
 blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins. But 
 I say unto you, I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day 
 when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom. And when they had sung 
 an hymn, they went out into the mount of Olives. 
 
 Compare Mark xiv. 1, 3 ; 10 — 26 ; Luke xtii, 1 — 30; John 13. 
 
 You are aware, I have omitted large portions of 
 scripture between our last text and the one of to-day, 
 because they contained chiefly parables, &c. I shall 
 endeavor to present to you a connected view of the scene 
 now before us, which 1 think will of itself occupy all the 
 time which can be allotted to this part of our worship. 
 Being thus obliged to sacrifice that part of the sermon 
 which is usually occupied by practical remarks, may 
 it be given to each one of us, as we go along, to receive 
 such impressions, and to gather such profit and enjoy- 
 ment, as will meet our several spiritual necessities, 
 and render this a blessed and comfortable season to our 
 souls. 
 
 We commenced with the entrance of Christ into 
 Jerusalem. This was the history of Whitsunday. The 
 purification of the temple and the history of the barren 
 fig-tree, together with a few parables and a number 
 of occurrences, such as the healing of the sick, the 
 hosannas of the children in the temple, the questions 
 of the Herodians concerning the tribute of Csesar, the 
 controversy of the pharisees about our Lord's authority 
 in matters of worship and temple regulations, and the 
 one of the sadducees respecting the resurrection of the 
 dead, etc, all of which we passed by because the his- 
 torical elements in them are not prominent enough to 
 enter into our plan; these and like details, we observe, 
 form the history of Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 55 
 
 came, and Christ, according to his custom, visited again 
 the temple, passing from Bethany, his secret abode, over 
 the mount of Olives, and through the valley of the brook 
 of Cedron to the holy city. Wednesday was a memora- 
 ble day. He finds, as usual, the pharisees and scribes 
 crowding the temple gates. Already the eternal con- 
 demnation of most of them, if not of all, had been sealed, 
 and their hearts and minds left by the Holy Ghost to 
 the unrestrained influences of the powers of darkness. 
 Hence the fearful progress of their rage and revenge 
 against God and his anointed, and the acceleration of 
 their doom. Forbearance was at an end. Christ, the 
 searcher of hearts, well discerned their case, and with 
 unexampled severity bursts forth upon these reprobated 
 men in that awful discourse which you find in the 23d 
 chapter of Matthew, In this heart-searching, over- 
 whelming address, which rolls along like liquid fire, 
 and which in point of power and unmingled terror has 
 not its equal, he lays open their most secret crimes, 
 announces to them and their guilty nation the woes and 
 miseries which had now become in the records of 
 Heaven their irrevocable and melancholy doom, and 
 gives them thus a foretaste of judgment to come. This 
 sermon closes his public ministry ; it is the last he ever 
 delivered. He began his ministry by speaking as never 
 man spake: he closed it by speaking as man never will, 
 never may speak again. 
 
 He passes out from the temple, none daring to put 
 his hand upon him. His disciples follow him in con- 
 sternation of mind. His voice, ringing down through 
 the high porches of the temple, — " O Jerusalem, Jeru- 
 salem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them 
 
56 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 which are sent unto thee, etc." — "Behold your house 
 shall be left unto you desolate ! — this terrible voice, — 
 for it had never sounded so before, — kept ringing in 
 their ears, and melting their hearts. This "house," 
 this great temple, — is it really to be destroyed ? 
 Impossible ! Insupportable thought ! ah, they cannot 
 bear, they cannot believe it. Christ, whom their 
 thoughts and feelings could not escape, as he passes 
 through the court, turns towards them, and, as they 
 gather about him, and endeavor to lead his mind to a 
 consideration of the vastness and magnificence of the 
 temple edifice, if, peradventure, that might move him to 
 recall the sentence of destruction which he had just 
 pronounced upon it, he repeats and confirms it still, and 
 with that asseveration which cut off every ray of hope, 
 (Matth. xxiv, : 1, 2.) "Verily («;"v^') I say unto you, 
 there shall not be left here one stone upon another that 
 shall not be thrown down." 
 
 The minds of the disciples must necessarily have 
 been deeply impressed with this absorbing subject. 
 Now they could no longer doubt, but that city and tem- 
 ple would one day experience an utter desolation. 
 There was, however, no opportunity in the crowded 
 temple courts to propose to their master any questions 
 on the subject; and they follow him in silence, as he 
 passes along, through the streets, down the valley, and 
 over the bridge of the Cedron, towards Bethany. This 
 was his last return to that retired, humble spot, which 
 had been, perhaps, his most endearing earthly home, 
 and where alone, in all the region of Jerusalem, he had 
 found true and faithful hearts and a safe retreat from the 
 cunning wiles of wicked men. As he mounted the west- 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 5? 
 
 ern ascent of mount Olivet he sat down once more 
 to look back upon the city of David and the temple of 
 Jehovah, and the land of prophets and patriarchs. 
 Their glory was now departed ; and church and state 
 and land lay prostrate, like the lifeless corpse of a 
 giant, to moulder away in quick and eternal dissolution. 
 The disciples now seized the favorable opportunity to 
 propose their questions on the subject of Jerusalem's 
 destruction, upon which they seem to have agreed by 
 the way. Probably owing to the literal construction of 
 Is. ii, and Micah iv, or some other similar passage, 
 they had cherished the pleasing hope, that city and 
 temple would stand at least until the judgment day, and 
 the end of the present dispensation of nature. The 
 coming of Christ to judgment and the close of his dis- 
 pensation were thus naturally and necessarily iden- 
 tified in their minds with the destruction of Jerusalem 
 and the temple. And as they had reason to believe that 
 these great events would be preceded by some special 
 external signs, they draw near to Christ and propose 
 to him the following threefold question : " Tell us, 
 when shall these things be," i. e. when shall city and 
 temple be overthrown; — when shall be "thy coming 
 and the end of the world; — and what shall be the sign 
 of all this ^ Matt, xxiv, 3. To this threefold question, 
 Christ answers in the 24th and 25th chapters of St. Mat- 
 thew, by giving them a joint picture of both events, 
 and their respective signs, leaving it to the different 
 periods of fulfillment to separate and explain the 
 different and mingled parts of the grand sketch. How 
 well their seemingly confused representation, which has 
 to this very day eluded the scrutiny of unpractical 
 6 
 
58 MEDITAtlOJfS. 
 
 Speculation ; how well it was calculated for practical 
 purposes, the history of Jerusalem's destruction itself 
 shows, by informing us how a few hints contained in 
 the !24th chapter of Matthew proved the salvation of the 
 whole Christian church at Jerusalem. About an hour 
 ago, Christ had closed his office as 'd j)reMcher of the 
 kingdom of Heaven : now he closes his prophetic office, 
 and then proceeds to Bethany to refresh his heart once 
 more with his pious friends there, and to take his last 
 night's rest upon earth. Those who pretend that 
 Christ was during this week invited to two suppers at 
 Bethany, and that he was twice anointed, etc., assign 
 this evening to the supper in Simon's house. But it 
 is easy to see how inconvenient for such a purpose 
 this evening would have been to Simon, when the 
 festival was at hand, how likely he would have been 
 to defer his invitation till at least caster day's evening; 
 and especially, how little disposed Christ would have 
 been to spend his last evening at Bethany in public. 
 They moreover split up the discourses of Christ, con- 
 tained in the chapter 14 — 17 of St. John, assigning the 
 14th chapter to this evening, and the rest to the evening 
 of the Passover at Jerusalem — a separation which is 
 intolerably hard and forced. I am satisfied Christ 
 spent the remainder of Wednesday at home in Laz- 
 arus' house ; and if the apostles had been permitted to 
 write down what they pleased, we should really have 
 reason to complain of them, that they, and especially 
 John, did not preserve the conversation of this inter- 
 esting season. 
 
 Proceeding to the history of Thursday, we shall en- 
 deavor to harmonize the four evangelists in reference 
 to its various events. 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 59 
 
 First, let us briefly consider the plain, connected his- 
 tory of the exit of Israel from Egypt and of the insti- 
 tution of the Passover and the festival of unleavened 
 bread. This is not only the best, but the only key to 
 the language of the evangelists on the subject of our 
 meditation, and it will make plain and easy what has 
 occasioned such dreadful confusion and dispute among 
 the very best commentators on our pi^senttext. 
 
 The time of Israel's deliverance drew near. One 
 miracle more — dreadful in its nature — and Pharaoh 
 •and Egypt were to be prostrated with awe and fear, 
 and the bands of God's people broken. In the night 
 belonging to the fourteenth day of the month called 
 Nisan, and which forever remained the first month of 
 the year among the Israelites, Jehovah was to pass 
 through the land of Egypt, to smite all the first-born in 
 the land of Egypt both man and beast. (Comp. Ex. 
 -xii, vs. 1,2 and 6.) This night, according to Jewish 
 ireckoning, beginning the day at sunset, was of course 
 the night between the thirteenth and fourteenth day 
 of the month. From the tenth day of this month to 
 the close of the thirteenth or the beginning of the four- 
 teenth day, a lamb was to be kept by every Jewish fam- 
 ily large enough to consume it at once; and between 
 the evenings (i. e. between 3 and 6 o'clock) preceding 
 the beginning of the fourteenth day, the lamb was to be 
 killed, the door-posts touched with its blood, and the 
 lamb itself roasted with fire and eaten that very night. 
 That the time when the lambs were killed was between 
 the thirteenth and fourtenth day, and not between the 
 fourteenth and fifteenth, is plainer than noonday, from 
 the facts — first, that the passover was to be held pn the 
 
60 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 fourteenth day, in the night belonging to it, while Jeho- 
 vah passed through Egypt with the last plague, i. e. the 
 slaughter-of the first born; and second, that in thus 
 passing through the land, the Lord expected to find the 
 blood of the lambs on the door-posts of every Jewish 
 family. Driven out by the Egyptians, in consequence 
 of the dire calamity which had befallen the latter, Israel 
 was necessitated to leave Egypt during the day-time of 
 the fourteenth day of Nisan, and to take along with them 
 the unleavened dough in their kneading troughs, which 
 they subsequently baked and ate unleavened, during 
 the evening season, i. e. about the beginning of the 
 fifteenth day of Nisan, just as soon as sufficient of a halt 
 could be made by the caravan to afford an opportunity 
 for baking and eating. All this gave rise to the double 
 divine institution of the celebration of the Passover, or 
 the eating of the Paschal lamb in the night belonging 
 to the fourteenth day of Nisan, and to the subsequent 
 period of the unleavened bread on the fifteenth day of 
 the same month and the six days following that. From 
 Ex. xii. 18, it might indeed appear as though the four- 
 teenth day was the proper first day of unleavened 
 bread. But a comparison of Levit. xxiii, 5, shows plainly 
 that the language in this verse is not logically definite, 
 the subject being too plain to require this, and that the 
 "even" there, is the even from three to six o'clock in 
 the afternoon of the fourteenth day itself, and not of the 
 thirteenth day, as in vs. 6. For there (Levit. xxiii, 5, 
 k-c.) we are told expressly, that the fourteenth day of 
 Nisan is the Passover day, and the fifteenth the day of 
 the festival of unleavened bread; and that, besides, on 
 this latter day as well as on the seventh day from it, no 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 61 
 
 servile work was to be done. On the five intermediate 
 days, as well as on the proper Paschal day, such work 
 could therefore obviously be done. The fifteenth day 
 being thus considered a kind of Sabbath, b. paraskere, 
 or " preparation," was connected with it, which occu- 
 pied the hours from three to six o'clock, afternoon of 
 the fourteenth, or the proper Passover-day. From the 
 close connection of these two solemnities, i. e. the 
 Passover and the festival of unleavened bread, and the 
 remainder of the circumstance mentioned, the followmg 
 indefiniteness of expression was the natural result in 
 common parlance. The term Passover is in the evan- 
 gelists the general term for the entire celebrations 
 from the Passover day to the seventh day of the feast of 
 unleavened bread. Thus it is used in Luke ii. 41, — 
 John ii, 13 and 23, and other places, in Luke xxii, 1 ; 
 (comp. Exod. xiii, 18.) Again, the festival of the un- 
 leavened bread is called Passover by way of eminence, 
 because it is the greater of the two days. Again, the 
 fourteenth was called tlie " paraskere," because the 
 preparation for the fifteenth day or the festival^ fell 
 into the last three hours of the fourteenth day. 
 
 '' And it came to pass" (says Matthew xxvi, 1, 2) 
 *' when Jesus had delivered all these sayings," — i. e. 
 all those contamed in the chapters xxiv, xxv, — ''he 
 said unto liis disciples, ye know that after two days is 
 the feast of the Passover, and the Son of man is or will 
 be betrayed to be crucified." "Tlie feast of the Pass- 
 over" is here the festival of unleavened bread, com- 
 mencing that year on Friday evening, and ending on 
 Saturday evening. These words our Lord uttered, 
 therefore, probably Wednesday evening. ''Then/' 
 6* 
 
62 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 Matthew continues, " assembled together the chief 
 priests and the scribes and the elders of the people 
 unto the palace of the high priest, who was called 
 Caiphas, and consulted that they might take Jesus by 
 su^3tilty and kill him. But they said, not on the feast- 
 day, (i. e. not during the festival week of unleavened 
 bread) lest there be an uproar among the people." To 
 crucify him on the proper ^rs^ day of unleavened bread, 
 (i. e. the fifteenth of Nisan) would have been altogether 
 against the law; nor would the law have permitted the 
 people to make "an uproar." For this decided step 
 which the Sanhedrim took on Wednesday evening, our 
 Lords' last sermon was in their opinion the most abun- 
 dant provocation. " Then one of the twelve," Matthew 
 again remarks, " called Judas Iscariot, went unto the 
 chief priests," etc., so that also falls into Wednesday 
 evening; and it is not unlikely that when Christ 
 departed from Jerusalem, the traitor lingered behind, 
 under some pretext, to improve the irritated state of 
 chief priests' minds, in order to make a good bargain, 
 in which, however, he was sadly disappointed by these 
 crafty tradesmen. 
 
 ''Now the first day of the feast of unleavened bread," 
 says Matthew, " the disciples came to Jesus, saying 
 unto him, where wilt thou that we prepare for thee to 
 eat the passover .'' The expression of Matthew, *' the 
 first day of the feast of unleavened bread," is explained 
 by Mark to be " the first day of unleavened bread, 
 ivhen they killed the passover," or the Paschal lamb ; and 
 Luke gives it the same appellation, with the addition 
 of representing the killing of the Paschal lamb as 
 decidedly future. It was therefore the thirteenth day 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 63 
 
 when the disciples proposed the preparation of the 
 Passover. But how does Matthew call it "the first 
 day of the feast of unleavened bread," a term belonging 
 to the fifteenth and not to the thirteenth day of Nisan ? 
 The answer is simply this. According to the tradition- 
 ary law of the Jews, the leaven was to be purged away 
 from the eve between the thirteenth and fourteenth day, 
 to near the close of the latter. Nothing therefore could 
 be more natural than, first, to begin the laborious task of 
 searching the house for leaven (see Mishnah, Pesakim) 
 in good season; second, to call in common parlance the 
 the fourteenth day, the first day of unleavened bread, 
 it being in reality the fit^st day when all leaven was put 
 away; and third, when engaged in the bustle of clean- 
 ing and making preparations against this fourteenth day, 
 to say that the first day of unleavened bread was come, 
 although in reality the thirteenth day may not have been 
 closed yet. This is the familiar way in which the 
 three first evangelists speak of the occasion, and 
 Matthew in particular so, who besides uses the term 
 "feast" in that general sense which includes the 
 whole of the festivities during the eight days fromthe 
 Passover to the close of the week of unleavened bread. 
 Hence, if St. John (xiii, 1) represents the last supper 
 to have taken place " before the feast of the Passover, 
 he perfectly agrees with the other evangelists in 
 sense, but writing, as he did, for the Greeks, he for- 
 sook the Jewish language of common intercourse on 
 the subject, and stated accurately that the feast of the 
 Passover season, i. e. the feast of unleavened bread 
 (on the fifteenth day) had not yet arrived, when Jesus 
 knew that his hour was come, etc. To clear away 
 
64 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 the darkness from two or three passages more : — - 
 When it is stated, (John xiii, 27 — 29) that our Lord 
 said to Judas "that thou doest, do quickly," and that 
 the disciples, not understanding the import of this 
 l^einark, thought it had reference to some purchases yet 
 to be made, oi* to almsgiving, we need not at all be 
 surprised, as so many not uninformed men seem to 
 have been. The whole fourteenth day, which had just 
 began, was devoted to preparations, purchases, etc. 
 against the fifteenth day — this being the first one in 
 which no servile work was to be done. Again: when we 
 shall see the Sanhedrim assemble in the night, and in 
 the morning after the Paschal lamb had been already 
 killed and eaten ; when we shall accompany them to 
 Pilate, to Herod, and to Golgotha, and see them em- 
 ployed in a matter very different from what the j^^'oper 
 festival or any Sabbath would have permitted them to 
 handle ; we must again remember that the fourteeth of 
 Nisan was a proper season, in the letter of the law, 
 for ail this, and that until the evening closing that day 
 imposed upon them the duty of rest; (comp. the close 
 of Luke, and xxiii the parallel passages.) Again, when 
 this same day is called the "preparation," (Mark xv.l2, 
 Luke xxiii. 54, John xix. 42) this preparation has 
 reference to "the Sabbath" which "drew on" and the 
 proper festival of unleavened bread, which this year 
 was connected with it and enhanced its sanctity. 
 Matthew, xxvii. 62, we read : " Now the next da?/, that 
 followed the day of the preparation, the chief priests 
 and pharisees came together unto Pilate "to beg for 
 a guard to keep the sepulchre." This " next day^' was 
 Friday evening — the proper festival (the fifteenth 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. S5 
 
 Nisan) and the Sabbath having already commenced. 
 To exculpate the Sanhedrim for this breach of the Sab- 
 bath is none of my duties. Finally, when we are told 
 (John xviii. 28) that the Jews themselves went not 
 into the judgment hall, lest they should be defiled, 
 but that they might eat the Passover, we readily 
 remove this so called unmovable difficulty by calling 
 to mind that the word " Passover" designates in a 
 general sense all the festivities of the season of 
 unleavened bread; and that therefore the plain mean- 
 ing here is, that the Jews kept out of the judgment hall 
 not to become unclean against the feast (the fifteenth 
 Nisan) which was nov/ fast drawing nigh. Thus these 
 and all other difficulties relative to this complicated 
 subject may be disposed of to the perfect satisfaction 
 of every candid man. 
 
 The chronological result of ail this is, that the disci- 
 ples approached our Lord on the thirteenth of Nisan, 
 and made the preparation for the celebration of the 
 Paschal season the same day ; that the evening follow- 
 ing, at the commencement of the fourteenth of Nisan, 
 (Thursday evening) they partook of their meal, together 
 with all other Jews, according to the law; and that all 
 the difficulties raised against this view are founded 
 upon the ignorance or the mistakes of those who made 
 them. The time of our text being thus settled, the 
 time and order of the subsequent events are clear of 
 themselves. 
 
 The question of the disciples, where the Passover 
 was to be prepared, was probably asked in good sea- 
 son during the forenoon, in order to give some time to 
 the landlord who was to prepare the repast. The 
 
^6 * MEDITATIONS. 
 
 reply of Christ was more particularly directed to 
 Peter and John, as Luke informs us; and the whole 
 of the charge given to them, and variously related by 
 the evangelists, would be as follows: " Go into the 
 city, and when ye shall have entered it, there shall a 
 man meet you bearing a pitcher of water : follow him 
 into the house where he entereth in, and say unto the 
 good man of the house : The master saith, My time is 
 at hand : I will keep the Passover at thy house with 
 my disciples; where is the chamber where I shall keep 
 it ? and he will show you a large upper room fur- 
 nished: there make ready." 
 
 The opinion that Christ had beforehand spoken to 
 the man in whose house he intended to keep the Pass- 
 over, and that on that account he could so exactly fore- 
 tell that a servant with a pitcher of water would await 
 the disciples when they should enter the city, and that 
 an upper room furnished would be shown to them, 
 though it is held by neither few nor insignificant men, 
 I deem so utterly and glaringly inconsistent with the 
 dignity of Christ and the solemnity of his situation at 
 tiiis period, that I shall content myself with having 
 barely noticed it. I deem the indication of these cir- 
 cumstances to be one exhibition more of that know- 
 ledge of Christ which he possessed as a property be- 
 longing to his divine nature, omniscience, which he 
 does not indeed seem to have exercised at all times, 
 but rather denied; but which was always at his com- 
 mand, and used by him on every proper occasion. 
 The familiar and indefinite language which Christ 
 puts into the mouth of John and Peter, seems to imply 
 that the landlord was acquainted with Christ, and 
 perhaps a secret believer in him. 
 
THE Great passover. 67 
 
 There is no reason to suppose that our Lord left at 
 all his peaceful retreat during Thursday, until it was 
 time to go to the place where his last repast was pre- 
 pared. If Judas did not start to call upon the Jews in 
 Jerusalem until Thursday morning, which I think is 
 most likely, then Christ was probably all the day 
 alone with his dear disciples, and with Lazarus and 
 Martha and Mary, and perhaps one or two pious 
 friends more. And it is delightful and soul-refreshing 
 to think that at least one drop of heavenly comfort 
 was mingled with the bitter cup of his approaching 
 sufferings. In what holy conversation, mingled here 
 and there with a psalm and with fervent prayer, the 
 day was spent; what artless tokens of pious affection 
 and tender regard were given and received; how the 
 bond of perfectness must have bound faster and tighter 
 heart to heart, and the fire of love and godliness 
 in each believer gathered strength, brightness, and 
 warmth, from mingling with all the rest close around 
 the fountain-head of life and light, — it is easier to con- 
 ceive than to describe. Oh ! if Christians could do 
 away the idle talk out of their mouth, and remember that 
 their whole life is but one continued parting scene; 
 that they are all the time parting with men and things, 
 with duties and enjoyments, with youth and health and 
 strength, with hours, days, and years, to see them no 
 more till the day of account and of retribution: — Oh! 
 what solemnity, what sacred awe, what holy caution, 
 what heavenly wisdom, would overflow and sanctify all 
 their words, and looks, and deeds. How would the 
 laughter of folly die, and the idle tale grow insipid, 
 and worldly schemes fade, and the dread of eternity take 
 
68 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 wings and fly away, and the unction from the Holy 
 one descend, and the peace of God and the foretaste 
 of Heaven fill their hearts and their dwellings. Ah, 
 our guilt is our immeasurable loss ! Oh ! that my 
 head were waters, and mine eyes fountains of tears, 
 that I might weep day and night over my years wasted 
 and lost, over more than half a life spent but too 
 much like the silly and useless tale of a fool ! May the 
 Lord have mercy, and forgive and heal me and all his 
 people from that abominable thoughtlessness, which 
 so much spoils our conversation and so deeply wounds 
 the heart and the cause of our Lord. 
 
 The time to depart draws near, and our Lord makes 
 ready with his disciples. None but himself knew that 
 this was to be his last farewell from Lazarus, Mary, 
 and Martha, from his seat at their table, from the bow- 
 ers or closet of his retiremxcnt for meditation and 
 secret prayer, from the corner where his humble couch 
 used to be spread out at night. He had long before 
 left and denied greater things than these for us; but a 
 tender heart never gets used to parting or hardened 
 against the melting sorrows of separation from those we 
 love. A tear may well have started in his eye, as he 
 blessed them, and, thanking them for their love and all 
 their kind services, commended them to his father in 
 Heaven, as the rewarder of every work of faith and 
 love. And many an aspiration may have gone up to 
 Heaven in their behalf as they passed along the solitary 
 way to the city. 
 
 In due season he arrived at the appointed place; 
 the table is spread; the Paschal lamb, the other re- 
 freshments, (John xiii, 1) and the cup of blessing, are 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 69 
 
 sei'Ved up, and Jesus, knowing "that his hour was 
 come that he should depart out of this world unto the 
 Father, he loved them unto the end," having loved his 
 own which were in the world, (Luke xxii. 15, 16.) 
 "And he said unto them. With desire have I desired to 
 eat this Passover with you before I suffer : for I say 
 unto you I will not any more eat thereof, until it be ful- 
 filled in the kingdom of God." Thus the most solemn 
 of all subjects was almost introduced, and our Lord 
 ready to proceed in remarks which would have opened 
 another world to them, when, even at this time, his 
 never-failing charity and forbearance were put to the 
 trial by a most unhappy interruption, (vs. 24) " and 
 there was also a strife among them," says Luke, 
 "which of them should be accounted the greatest." 
 
 They had repeatedly been reproved for their undue 
 aspiration after greatness. But ah ! pride sits deep in 
 the human breast. However, let us be as charitable 
 as w« can, being encompassed ourselves with like in- 
 firmities. Indeed, I do not think that the idea of the 
 disciples respecting the kingdom of Christ were quite 
 as gross and secular as some suppose them to have 
 been : and aspiring to eminence in that kingdom which 
 they supposed Christ would rear, may very probably 
 have been something very different from the coarse 
 ambition of wholly worldly-minded men. Moreover, to 
 be great in the kingdom of Christ, would bring a man 
 into nearer relation to, and intercourse with, Christ 
 himself; and then, in this instance, the "strife" was 
 perhaps occasioned by the questions, who should 
 already now sit nearest to Christ, who on his right, 
 who on his left, and who opposite this. How much 
 7 
 
70 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 such considerations affect and alter the nature of the 
 case it is easy to see, and we would almost forgive 
 them, if they had striven quite earnestly. Had we our- 
 selves been there, I do not know what we should have 
 done; and in a certain sense we all aspire and ought 
 to aspire to as high a place in the kingdom of Christ 
 as we may. But the apostles ought to have remem- 
 bered, and so ought we, that in the kingdom of Christ 
 laws and principles govern which are diametrically op- 
 posite to the maxims of the world. There a man be- 
 comes great by becoming small; the greatest saint 
 there is the most helpless sinner; all reign by serving, 
 and every one is the least; and hence, true and 
 thorough self-humiliation is the only wing which will 
 bear a sinner up to the right hand of the King of kings. 
 In Heaven competition works the contrary way, (i. e. 
 downward) and the strife of self-denying, self-forgetting 
 love is the only one known among the true children of 
 light in either world, that above and that here below. 
 The disciples were still both wrong and unwise, there- 
 fore, to strive for preeminence, though their strife 
 may not have been altogether a carnal one; and they 
 needed to be reproved and corrected; and Christ, in 
 his untiring forbearance, proceeds to the correction 
 without delay. And the manner in which he corrects 
 their fault, is perfumed with the very frankincense of 
 Heaven, and an eternal monument of divine love. 
 
 "And the supper having commenced (^tov delnvov 
 ysvofievou, for SO I must translate, and not like our 
 English version, which renders it " the supper been 
 ended") the devil having already (not now) put into 
 the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him; 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 71 
 
 Jesus, "when he noticed the contention of the disci- 
 ples, although he knew that the Father had given all 
 things into his hands, and that he was come from God, 
 and went to God," — although he was conscious of his 
 supreme dignity and his divine nature, — "he riseth 
 from supper, and laid aside his (upper) garments and 
 took a towel and girded himself; after that, he poureth 
 water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet, 
 and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was 
 girded." He acted the part of a servant, and that of 
 the lowest servant that was at all permitted to enter the 
 apartment. How soon the strife for preeminence 
 must have ceased, you may imagine ! " Then cometh 
 he to Simon Peter; and Peter saith unto him, Lord, 
 dost thou wash imj feet ^ Jesus answered and said 
 unto him. What I do thou knowest not now, but thou 
 shall know hereafter. Peter saith unto him. Thou shall 
 never wash my feet, Jesus answered him. If I wash 
 thee not, thou hast no part in me," — playing as I sup- 
 pose upon the words, as though he was saying. You 
 need not refuse this service from me, for you must 
 after all receive it in a still higher sense, if you want to 
 belong to my true disciples. "Simon Peter," in the 
 ardor of his feeling ever flying from extreme to ex- 
 treme, "saith unto him: Lord, not my feet only, but 
 also my hands and my head; " — another specimen of 
 honest but ill-directed effort to become eminent in the 
 family of Christ by aspiration, he wanted to be more 
 washed than the rest. But Christ, tempering his 
 untimely zeal, and returning to the literal sense of 
 language, replies — "He that is washed, needeth not 
 save to wash his feet, then he is clean every whit;" 
 
72 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 i. e. he that has washed his hands, and perhaps his 
 face too, on entering the guest chamber (and you have 
 done so) needeth not to wash these again ; but, if he 
 wishes to be particularly clean and comfortable at the 
 repast, he may get his feet washed, and then he is 
 sufficiently clean for the occasion, be it ever so splen- 
 did or solemn. Then, again returning to the spiritual 
 meaning of his terms, he says, hinting at Judas' case, 
 "Ye are clean, but not all." Then he puts on his 
 dress again and returned to his seat at the table, 
 which shows once more that the supper was not 
 finished but begun merely. The application of this 
 example of humility, which Christ made after hav- 
 ing resumed his place, you all well know. I do not 
 therefore rehearse it. This application was made to 
 the case in hand ; but it was recorded also for the pur- 
 pose of universal imitation throughout the church. 
 But it is a hard lesson. How many a pope, patriarch, 
 cardinal, bishop, and priest — how many a lord bishop, 
 how many a doctor of divinity, how many a preacher 
 of the Gospel, how many a missionary, how many 
 thousands of professed disciples, do you think, will be 
 found at the judgment day who never learned or prac- 
 tised a syllable of it ! How many who knew it, and 
 admired it, and talked of it, and wrote about it, in prose 
 and rhyme, and wept over its inimitable beauties — but 
 never followed it; how many of such, I say, will be 
 there ! How many a poor beggar will be there; how 
 many a poor ignorant old woman; how many a child, 
 unable perhaps to read, or to express a thought cor- 
 rectly, but who had this most precious lesson in their 
 hearts, and showed it in their lives. 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 73 
 
 " With them numbered may wo be, 
 Here and in eternity ! " 
 
 When Jesus had thus said, he was troubled in 
 spirit, and testified and said (John xiii, 21, 22), Verily, 
 verily, one of you shall betray me. Then the disciples 
 looked one on another, doubting of whom he spake : 
 (Matt, xxvi, 22.) "And they were exceedingly sor- 
 rowful, and began every one of them to say unto him, 
 Lord, is it I ? And he answered and said, He that dippeth 
 his hand with me in the dish, the same shall betray me." 
 Here Christ does not intend to designate the very per- 
 son who should betray him; for it was in every disciple's 
 power to withhold his hand from dipping with Christ 
 into any dish, and thus to escape the charge of treason. 
 
 It may be the landlord and his family joined with 
 Christ and his company in partaking of the Paschal 
 Iamb ; for the lamb was to be wholly consumed — and 
 thirteen men, who expect to partake of a supper after- 
 wards, would not think of consuming a whole lamb. 
 Or, at all events, the landlord and some of his male 
 servants, all of whom probably knew Christ and were 
 known by him, must have been about the table when 
 Christ began to speak of the treason of Judas. What 
 was more natural, especially if they were disciples in 
 the common sense, than that they too should have asked, 
 Lord is it I ? And indeed, such a suspicion would 
 much rather have fallen upon the master of the house, 
 or his people, than upon the nearer disciples of Christ. 
 The object of Christ in giving the above general reply, 
 seems then to have been to clear the family from that 
 suspicion, and to limit it to the twelve disciples; as al- 
 so the evangelist Mark (ch. xiv, 20) paraphrases it ; 
 7* 
 
74 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 " and he answered and said unto them, It is one of the 
 twelve that dippeth with me in the dish." To dip with 
 one into the dish is a mere proverbial phrase to express 
 the relation of family or table companionship. This is 
 confirmed by the evangelist Luke, (ch. xxii, 21) who 
 expresses the same idea thus : "But behold the hand 
 of him that betrayeth me is with me on the table." But 
 Simon Peter, forward and impatient as ever, and also 
 doubtless anxious for himself, was not to be put off 
 with so indefinite an answer, which indeed so far as it 
 went did only increase his apprehensions. He there- 
 fore beckons John, (who was leaning on Jesus' bosom, 
 i. e. reclining next to, and in front of, Christ) to ask, 
 who the man was, of whom he spake. John asks, 
 "Lord, who is it?" (John xiii. 26) and receives 
 privately the definite answer : " He it is to whom I 
 shall give a sop, when I have dipped it; and when he 
 had dipped the sop he gave it to Judas Iscariot,the son 
 of Simon." This sign was, however, intelligible only 
 to John, and did not make manifest the traitor yet. 
 Christ, presiding at the table, was then probably dis- 
 tributing portions among his disciples, and being about 
 to give Judas his share, he thus made him known pri- 
 vately to John. Now at length comes the question of 
 Judas himself, who seems, for very good reasons, to 
 have been the last to ask it, and who did it probably 
 merely to avoid suspicion. For had he asked it be- 
 fore, there would have been no need of the question 
 of Peter and John. (Matt. xxvi. 25.) Then Judas, 
 which betrayed him, answered and said : Master, is 
 it I ? He said unto him : Thou hast said;" (i. e. thou 
 art the one.) (John xiii. 27.) "And after the sop, 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 15 
 
 Sdtan entered into him. Then said Jesus unto him : 
 That thou doest do quickly. Now no man at the table 
 knew for what intent he spake this unto him. For 
 some of them thought, because Judas had the bag, 
 that Jesus had said unto him. Buy those things that we 
 have need of against the feast; or that he should give 
 something to the poor. He then, having received the 
 sop, went immediately out, and it was night." 
 
 "And it was night;" a night black and gloomy as the 
 deeds it was to bring forth. It seems as though the 
 night of hell had been poured around Judas Iscariot, 
 the son of Simon, to shroud the brightness of the full 
 moon, and to hide him with his infernal designs and 
 works. But oh! what must have been the spiritual dark- 
 ness which filled his heart while he was groping along 
 through the narrow streets to work out his own ruin 
 and damnation, and fort.ver to sell his Saviour, his soul, 
 and his Heaven for a pocketful of dust ! There he goes, 
 away from Christ and over to Lucifer and Beelzebub, 
 whose son he was; fleeing from the first communion- 
 table ever spread on earth, to the reprobated enemies 
 of God and of his anointed, — away from Heaven down 
 to the lowest hell. But let him go; he is undone; and 
 not to be reclaimed. Jesus' voice and love prevailed 
 not over him, and what in Heaven or on earth will? 
 Let us return to the upper chamber; there is no night: 
 there is no darkness, but light and glory, (vs. 31,) 
 " Therefore when he was gone out, Jesus said. 
 Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified 
 in him. If God be glorified in him, God shall also 
 glorify him in himself, and shall straightway glorify 
 him. Little children, yet a little while I am with you. 
 
76 MEDITATIONS. « 
 
 Ye shall see me; and, as I said to the Jews, (feo 
 might I also say to you, though in a different and bet- 
 ter sense) whither I go you cannot come. A new 
 commandment give I unto you, that ye should love 
 one another as I have loved you ; that ye also love 
 one another." That is, hitherto you have endeavored 
 to love your neighbour as yourselves, and when 
 you did so much, you deemed yourselves as having 
 done all, and indeed you had done all which was 
 required by the law. But now comes that neiv com- 
 mandment, of which the law knows nothing. Hitherto 
 lawful self-love was the standard of your love to your 
 brethren, but henceforth you will receive a new spirit 
 and a new commandment, to love one another as I 
 have loved you ; my love to you will now he the standard 
 of your love to each othef; and while none of you will 
 expect any brother to lay down his life for him, each 
 will be ready to lay down his life for all, and for any 
 who knows and loves me. Then follows the bold pledge 
 of Peter, to lay down his life for Christ, and the pre 
 diction of his fall. In the mean time, the supper was 
 ended, and the cup of blessing which belonged to the 
 celebration of the Paschal feast was passed round. 
 Then follows the institution of the Lord's Supper, and 
 of the new Ditspensation. This order of events is 
 estimated by Luke, who speaks of two cups — of one 
 before, the other after the bread; one is that belonging 
 to the Jewish Dispensation, the Old Testament ; the 
 other is the cup of the JYeiv Testament in the blood of 
 Christ, ' a sacrifice of nobler name and richer blood 
 than they.' 
 During the celebratian of the Lord's Supper, probably 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 77 
 
 the contents of the fourteenth chapter of St. John were 
 delivered. The words, "arise, let us go hence," which 
 we find at the close of that chapter, seem to indicate 
 that by that time Christ begun to get ready to pass on 
 to Gethsemane. The hymn of thanksgiving being sung, 
 they arose from the table. Then, while the disciples 
 were standing about him, still in the upper room, he 
 continued his conversation as contained in John xv and 
 xvi, and closed the solemnities of the evening by the 
 prayer contained in the seventeenth chapter of the same 
 evangelist. " And when they had sung an hymn," says 
 Matthew and Mark, "they went out into the mount of 
 Olives;" and he came out," says Luke, "and went as 
 he was wont, to the mount of Olives; and his disciples 
 also followed him." " When Jesus had spoken these 
 words," says John, " he went forth with his disciples 
 over the brook Cedron where was a garden, into which 
 he entered and his disciples." 
 
 Thus I have endeavored to sketch and arrange the 
 events of Thursday, in the manner which appeared 
 most consistent to my own mind, after a close compari- 
 son of the four evangelists, and after a consultation 
 of the best means within my reach, which indeed are 
 the best ones now existing. I have had occasion to 
 dissent somewhat from either of my helps; but I have 
 done so with reasons which seemed to me plainly to 
 outweigh human authority. You are aware that ac- 
 cording to the view which I have given, Judas the 
 traitor went away before the Lord's Supper was cel- 
 ebrated, which is the most important point in which 
 I have been obliged to depart from some of those of 
 whose labors I have availed myself. I have had no 
 personal interest to do so, but rather contrariwise. 
 
78 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 I should now like to have as much time again for 
 practical remarks as we have spent upon the devel- 
 opment of our subject. But our time is more than 
 expired ; and I feel that to tax your patience further 
 would be more than what I am entitled to. Take, my 
 friends, this meditation as it is, and not as it ought to 
 be. Some critical remarks which crowded themselves 
 irresistibly into it, have, 1 know, done much injury to 
 its warmth, but they could not be omitted. 
 
 But what troubles me most is, that I have so much 
 failed to set forth Christ in the fullness of his beauty 
 and love, in which he appears through the whole scene 
 through which we have passed. This could, however, 
 not have been done without an analysis of all he 
 uttered on the occasion, and this must needs have 
 occupied days. 
 
 But let me not turn away now from our meditation 
 without paying some feeble tribute of admiration to 
 him, who loved his own that were in the world even 
 to the end. He knew all which was before him. 
 He knew that he had seen his last setting sun; he 
 knew this was his last night ; he knew that within two 
 or three hours he would be prostrated in the dust under 
 the weight of oi«r guilt ; and be in the far most discon- 
 solate condition in which ever man was ; he knev/ that 
 within a few hours he should be dra^sed and hurried 
 back by the very path and through the very gate by 
 which he was about to go over to the mount of Olives; 
 he knew that during the night he should be forsaken of 
 all his disciples, be pulled and thrust through the 
 streets of Jerusalem, calumniated, mocked, spit upon, 
 whipped, and scourged; he knew that, ere the sun 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 79 
 
 should reach his meridian height, again he should pass 
 through the opposite gate, to be nailed to the accursed 
 tree; he knew that before another evening should 
 come, he would lie in the cold grave; and still he 
 seeks consolation from his friends, he makes no efforts 
 to excuse their sympathies. Nay, he pities and com- 
 forts them, he prays with them and for them, that their 
 faith might not cease; and he labors for their good to 
 his last breath, until the " sorrows of death '^ and the 
 " pains of hell" gat hold upon him, — no otherwise than 
 if he was to prepare iliem, and not himself , for death. 
 Still more: he provides for the comfort and consolation 
 of his dear flock through all future times, and leaves 
 them an inexhaustible legacy in the feast of his dying 
 love, in the sure promise of that eternal Comforter 
 whom he was to send; and in the unfailing prospect 
 of his personal return to gather all his beloved unto 
 himself, that they might be where he is, and forever 
 behold and share his glory. Does not this picture bear 
 the seal of Heaven .'' Will any one sayi t is earthly, 
 and has sprung up in the heart of selfish man ? Does 
 it not Jloiv doivn with the tender mercies of God } 
 
 May he who was comforting his friends and praying 
 for his foes when they were in the strength of life and 
 health, and he in the agonies of death — may he comfort 
 us from the throne of his glory, and plead our cause 
 upon the mercy-seat, when we are gasping in death, 
 and our souls take their flight from this world to return 
 no more. Amen. 
 
MEDITATIONS 
 
 IV. 
 
 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 MATTHEW XXVI, 30 — 44. 
 
 And when they Jiad sung an liymn, they went out into the mount of Olives. 
 Tlien saith Jesus unto them, All ye shall be offended because of me this night: 
 for it is written, I will smite the Shepherd, and the sheep of the fliock shall be 
 scattered abroad. But after I am risen again, I will go before you into Galilee. 
 Peter answered and said unto him, Though all men shall be offended because of 
 thee, yet will I never be offended. Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, 
 That this night, before the cock crow [twice, — Mark] thou shalt deny me thrice. 
 Peter said unto him. Though I should die with thee, yet will I not deny thee. 
 Likewise also said all the disciples. Then cometh Jesus with them_ unto a place 
 called Gethsemane, and saith unto the disciples, Sit ye here, while I go and pray 
 yonder. And he took with him Peter and the two sons of Ztbedee, and began to 
 be sorrowful and very heavy. Then saith he unto them. My soul is exceeding 
 sorrowful, even unto death : tarry ye here, and watch with me. And he went a 
 little farther, [about a stone's cast, — Luke xxii, 41] and fell on his face, and 
 prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; never- 
 theless, not as I will, but as thou wilt. And he cometh unto the disciples, and 
 findeth them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What, could ye not watch with me 
 one hour ? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation ; the spirit indeed 
 is willing, but the flesh is weak. He went away again the second time, and 
 prayed, saying, O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I 
 drink it, thy will be done. And he came and found them asleep again ; for their 
 eyes were heavy, [neither wist they what to answer him — Mark xiv, 40.] And 
 he left them, and went away again, and prayed the third time, saying the same 
 
 8 
 
82 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 words. Luke xxii, 43 — 45. And there appeared an angel unlo him from 
 
 Heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly ; 
 and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground. 
 And when he rose up from prayer, and was come to his discijdes, he found them 
 
 sleeping for sorrow Mark xiv. 41,4-2 And (he) saith unto them, (will 
 
 you) Sleep on now, and take your restf?); it is enough, the hour is come j 
 behold, the Son of man is betrayed into the liands of sinners. Rise up; let us 
 go: lo, he that betrayeth me is at hand. 
 
 In our last meditation on that general subject of 
 which we have now so solemn a part before us, we 
 left Christ and his eleven disciples on their way to 
 Gethsemane, after the solemnities of the Passover and 
 the institution of the Lord's Supper were finished. It 
 was now necessarily late, and to return to Bethany 
 across the mount of Olives would probably have been 
 quite inexpedient, even if Christ had wished so to do. 
 At the house where the solemnities were attended to, 
 there seems to have been no room to spend the night, 
 at which circumstance we shall not wonder, if we call 
 to mind the multitude of strangers which were now 
 gathered in the city in consequence of the feast. 
 Gethsemane was a kind of garden at the foot of mount 
 Olives, set with olive trees, as it would seem, and fur- 
 nished with an oil-press, which gave the place its name. 
 After passing that gate of the city which lies nearest 
 to the temple and the bridge of Cedron, to which the 
 road descended in the direction towards Bethany, 
 Gethsemane was quite at hand, and only at the dis- 
 tance of a few steps to the left. Christ seems to have 
 been acquainted with the family on the farm, and he 
 probably was in the habit of spending his nights there, 
 whenever it was too late to return to his pious friends 
 at Bethany. For Luke says that '' he went, as he was 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 83 
 
 wont, to the mount of Olives;" and the evangelist 
 John says that " Jesus o/Ven/imes resorted thither with 
 his disciples." It was, however, not a public or much 
 frequented place; for John remarks, that Judas, which 
 betrayed him, knew the place : which implies that it 
 was not generallij known to be one of the resting- 
 places of our Lord, or even much noticed by people at 
 large. It may have been a poor, pious family, or per- 
 haps a single, plain, and godly keeper of the garden, 
 that resided there ; and poverty and piety have always 
 been sufficient to withdraw men from the notice and 
 regard of the world. Even at this season, when all 
 tolerably furnished houses in and about Jerusalem 
 must needs have been filled to overflowing, Geth- 
 semane appears as a deserted and solitary spot. 
 
 It seems probable, too, that whenever Christ resorted 
 to this place, he expected to spend his night in the 
 ojjen air, slumbering with his disciples, under the ti^ees 
 or on some seat or bench about the humble dwelling, 
 as though this was a more eligible couch than could 
 be expected in the house itself For none of his disci' 
 pies even suggests the idea of calling the inmates up, 
 though this must have appeared to them desirable, as 
 they could not possibly be ignorant of some approaching 
 danger, after all the solemn preparations which their 
 Lord had made for his separation from them. Swords 
 they had provided against their Master's will ; but to 
 get into a safe dwelling in the garden does not occur 
 to them : an evidence that there was none there, 
 "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have 
 nests, but the Son of Man had not where to lay hig 
 head." 
 
84 MEDITATIONS. ^ 
 
 Neither the high priest, nor even his servants, nor 
 any of the self-mortifying pharisees seem to have so 
 much as known that place where Christ " oftenlimes^' 
 took his night's rest on the ground, after a day of hard 
 labor performed, and of still harder rebuke and wrong 
 suffered. And thus it often afterwards happened, that 
 the most precious and lovely of God's children lodged 
 and worshipped in caves and forests, unvisited by and 
 unknown to their persecuting enemies in high and sacred 
 office, except when infernal fury goaded them on to ex- 
 plore those uneviable abodes, in order to draw out godly 
 men and women and innocent children to torture and 
 death. But now those suffering saints are in Heaven 
 with Christ; and their infuriated enemies, that were 
 mightier than they, are with Annas and Caiphas in 
 hell. To this place he resorted now for the last time. 
 Let us, my dear friends, accompany him. Our respec- 
 tive personal cases, our personal, eternal destinies, are 
 eternally interwoven with its scene, a scene to which 
 I can find no epithet — surely our hearts ought to be no 
 strangers to it. Would I could lead you now into the 
 very place, instead of endeavoring to recall its unpar- 
 alleled events in unfit words and fleeting sounds. It 
 would be better for us all, perhaps, to stand around 
 the sacred place in silence, and see what never man 
 saw and hear what never man heard, than to listen to 
 the united harmony of Heaven, or to view at one glance 
 from the mount of Patmos the golden streets and pearly 
 gates of New Jerusalem. 
 
 But let us lose no time. We will attend to our sub- 
 ject as well as we can. May we be blessed to-day with 
 a solemn and humble frame of mind ; may we be 
 enabled to put off our shoes, for the ground upon 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 85 
 
 which we stand, is holy ground: and may I be enabled 
 to speak, not with the intelligence, power and elo- 
 quence of a superior spirit, (for this would render me 
 no more fit to do justice to the subject, than lam now) 
 but with the feelings of a poor, pardoned, believing 
 sinner, who knows nothing but Christ and his cross. 
 I propose to divide the subject of our meditation 
 into four parts : 
 
 I. Christ's agony in the garden. 
 
 II. His utter destitution of all human comfort and 
 support. 
 
 III. His entire subjection to his Father's will. 
 
 IV. His heavenly consolations. 
 
 I. Many curious and not a few profane inquiries 
 have been made with regard to the topic now before us. 
 What was the cause of the anxiety and distress which 
 Jesus manifested in the garden ? Was it mere appre- 
 hension of what he knew w^s about to burst upon him .'* 
 But if he knew his approaching sufferings, certainly 
 he knew, too, " the glory which should follow;" he was 
 sure of victory. Could he who had, for thirty years 
 and more, forgone the very glories of Heaven, and 
 borne not the usual, but the most unusual inconvenien- 
 ces of this miserable world, could he experience such 
 misgivings at that catastrophe which, though dreadful 
 in the extreme, was the very one which was to work 
 the peace of this world and open to him the high gates 
 and the " everlasting doors" of his endless and univer- 
 sal reign ? True it may be said, stoicism had not 
 destroyed his natural sensibilities ; fanaticism had not 
 inflamed his imagination nor sundered the mysterious 
 8* 
 
SB MEDITATIONS. 
 
 ties nor destroyed the mutual sympathies of body and 
 soul in him; quietism had not wrapt him away from the 
 world of realities into that wide, lifeless, breathless 
 desert of moral enchantment, where all natural and 
 moral distinctions pretend to vanish : true, that mad- 
 ness, which men call bravery, was of all things the far- 
 thest from him ; and all the selfish motives by which 
 common wicked men are borne on in the closest en- 
 counter of perils, sufferings, and death, in every imag- 
 inable form, could be no support to him who was holy 
 and harmless and separate from sinners: and we will 
 even grant that he was either not permitted or did not 
 choose to call forth the energies of his divine nature, 
 to sustain him in his dreadful contest, but that he en- 
 countered it purely with the powers of his holy human- 
 ity. To this concession, indeed, we are driven by the 
 fact that an angel, a created being was sent to comfort 
 and strengthen him. And v/e will grant, too, that the 
 Christian martyrs, who in after times showed so much 
 courage, were in a very different aad far better situa- 
 tion than he : they had a Saviour in Heaven, and a 
 special Comforter sent into their hearts by their risen, 
 ascended, and omnipotent Redeemer, while " the man 
 Jesus Christ" in Gethsemane feels himself solitary. 
 Nevertheless, if mere bodily sufferings at hand dis- 
 tressed him so much, where, we ask, is the unconquer- 
 able fortitude of this superior person .'' Where is the 
 advantage of a calm and peaceful mind such as he pos- 
 sessed ? Where are the consolations of a pure and holy 
 conscience? where the comforts of untarnished piety .-^ 
 where the secret communications of the divine favor.** 
 and where the power of faith, and of prayer unremit- 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 87 
 
 ted? Was their combined influence unable to support 
 him at the approach of transitory bodily sufferings, 
 though their degree be ever so great ? Verily, there 
 is something more here than the apprehension of 
 bodily pain and death, be it what it may. 
 
 " Search the Scriptures," saith the Lord; " they tes- 
 tify of me." 
 
 Already in the Old Dispensation the laying on of the 
 sinner's hands upon the head of the sacrifice which was 
 to be offered in his place, and the laying on of Israel's 
 sins upon the scape-goat,. were evidently calculated to 
 awaken and to cherish the impression of a translation 
 of sin. The very words which the Scriptures use on 
 those occasions express the idea, and could make no 
 other impression upon a plain, untutored people who 
 were unable to correct the blunders or the daring lan- 
 guage of the Bible by the abstract principles of their 
 moral philosophy, — as the -wise men of our age are 
 doing. Men find it very hard, I know, to understand 
 how sin should be transferred. But whether it be any ea- 
 sier to understand how sin being untransf erred, the sinner 
 should be treated like a righteous man, because the 
 righteous man was treated like a sinner on his account, 
 
 — and that under Vi. perfect moral government — I leave 
 them to judge. But, after all, " why should it be 
 thought a thing incredible with you" that sin should be 
 transferred — with you who acknowledge with one 
 consent that a single word uttered before the judge, or 
 one stroke of the pen may make one man surety for 
 another, and thus transfer a peculiar debt from one in- 
 dividual to another to all essential intents and purposes, 
 
 — a debt which the other individual never incurrred, 
 
88 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 nor had any connection with whatever ? Whence all 
 at once the impossibility of such a transfer, merely be- 
 cause the debt is a moral and not a pecuniary one ? If 
 one debt may conceivably be transferred as well as 
 another, is it not really seeking difficulties where there 
 are none, to say that ' Jesus Christ the righteous ' was 
 merely treated by God like a sinner, without a transfer 
 of our guilt to him, and not rather 07i account of it, and 
 after it ? Who has ever heard of a man's going to 
 prison for the debts of another, without having pre- 
 viously recognized those debts as his own ? The whole 
 scheme of sacrifices speaks of a transfer of sin, and an 
 exchange of places before the bar of God, in favor of 
 believing sinners, — and what the sacrifices shadoived 
 forth becomes reality in Christ. Our sins are his — his 
 righteousness is ours — if we believe. Taking this view 
 of the subject, we shall find a difficult verse in Psalms 
 Ixix rendered plain. This Psalm is a Messiah prophesy. 
 Christ has repeatedly quoted it, and applied it to him- 
 self The fifth verse of it reads thus : " O God, thou 
 knowest my foolishness; and my sins are not hid from 
 thee;" — a troublesome passage ! The word " foolish- 
 ness" (nSyt^) means, in the actual connection, sins of 
 ignorance, at the mildest; and the word " sins"( niDli'X) 
 expresses positive transgressions, real guilt. To shift 
 off this verse from Christ upon another subject, is im- 
 possible without doing violence to the sacred text ; 
 while no figure of speech will soften these expressions 
 so as to make them predicable of anything in the cha- 
 racter or life of Christ. Christ had sins, then, which 
 he called his own. And whose could they originally 
 have been — since he was ever sinless — but owr« ? 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 89 
 
 They were ours — now they are his; — of course they 
 were transferred, like a debt, — and their payment now 
 demanded from him, occasions him the anguish predict- 
 ed in our Psalm, and fulfilled in our text. Of similar 
 import, probably, is Ps. xl, 12. On 2 Cor. v. 21, we 
 read, " for he (i. e. God) hath him (Christ) to be sin 
 for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the 
 righteousness of God in him." To take " sin" as 
 meaning sin-offering, would be destroying the relation 
 of the term " sin" to the opposite term " righteousness 
 of God." The import is strictly this. God made 
 Christ a sinner for us, that we might become divinely 
 righteous in him; just as the judge pronounces the 
 surety to be the real debtor of the sum in question, while 
 the real contractor of the debt is rf?a% released. What 
 language can be stronger? what thought more com- 
 fortable to a believing sinner? To adduce but one pas- 
 sage more of this kind. Gal. iii, 13, it is said, " Christ 
 hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being 
 made a curse for ws; " everywhere an exchange of 
 character and place at the bar of Heaven, and not 
 merely of sentence, or fate. The language of Scrip- 
 ture is too powerful to admit of such a superficial view; 
 and one which, in my estimation, is beset with many 
 and real difficulties. Again, the apostle in the epistle 
 to the Hebrews, v. 7, says that Christ, "in the days 
 of his flesh, when he had offered up prayers and sup- 
 plications with strong crying and tears unto Him that 
 was able to save himjrom death, washeard.'^ Whether 
 this passage refers to Christ's sufferings in the garden 
 exclusively , or only by way of eminence, is immaterial 
 to us now. According to it, he was heard by him that 
 
90 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 was able to save him from death. Yet, from bodily 
 death, he neither was saved, nor did he choose or 
 ask to be. From what death, then, was he saved ? 
 Let the Psalmist reply: — " Thou hast delivered my 
 soul from death," Or if you want the most di- 
 rect ansv.er, here it is: — " The king shall joy in thy 
 strength, O Lord, and in thy salvation shall he greatly 
 rejoice ! Thou hast given him his heart's desire, and 
 hast not withholden the request of his lips, Selah. He 
 asked life of thee, and thou gavest it him, even 
 length of days for ever and ever." According to these 
 passages, was saved from the death of the soul the se- 
 cond death, the terrors of which must therefore have 
 stood in threatening array about him during some period 
 of his sufferings; and as that deliverance was the effect 
 of his strong crying and supplication to God, what 
 period, I ask, answers this description better than the 
 awful hour of darkness and terror in Gethsemane } 
 Nor is this a matter of mere speculation, or unhal- 
 lowed, curious inquiry. Were this the case, I should 
 never have touched upon it. No, it has its profound, 
 practical interest. In Heb. iv, 15, the apostle gives 
 us the consolation, and every Christian feels its pre- 
 ciousne^s, that we have an high priest at the right 
 hand of God, who " was in all points tempted (exer- 
 cised) like as we are, yet without sin," i. e. without 
 committing any sin. And the same apostle assures 
 us — and every Christian feels its truth — that we 
 needed such an high priest. But where is the one of 
 all the " points," where the period, what the condition, 
 in which we need the experienced sympathies of our 
 great high priest more than when our sins rush upon 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 91 
 
 US like destruction from the Almighty, and when our 
 very souls are swallowed up, almost, by the terrors of 
 the second death ! Oh, if he did not know how to sym- 
 pathize with us then, he could not have been said to 
 to be tempted in all points, — no, not in the most es- 
 sential point, — like as we are, and we should want 
 another high priest besides him stilL 
 
 What, then, was the agony of Christ in the garden? 
 We may now venture a reply, though the full view of 
 the subject the Lord will doubtless give us himself, in 
 the other world. First ; our Lord's agony in the gar- 
 den included as much of that mental distress which the 
 sins of our race would have brought upon their con- 
 sciences, when awakened and tender, as divine justice 
 required, as an equivalent payment from a personage 
 so eminent as Christ was, an ordeal which rendered 
 him at the same time iniinitely more than equally expe- 
 rienced with the most tried and tempted of his followers 
 upon earth. No infernal torments need to be included, 
 since his divine character would outweigh worlds both 
 in degree and duration, and since he never intended 
 to sympathize with those in hell. That Satan also 
 made his last and most desperate assault upon him, 
 I unhesitatingly admit. What Christian is there, that 
 has gone through the dreadful hour of conviction, and 
 that does not know what a hailstorm of fiery darts of 
 unbelief, despair and blasphemy Satan hurls into the 
 distracted soul, and what desperate efforts he makes to 
 seal her damnation at that eventful and decisive period? 
 And that he tried his utmost in his assaults upon Christ, 
 who that knows him will ever doubt? But secondly ; all 
 this anguish was still heightened by the apprehension of 
 
92 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 hig approaching death, and by many aggravating cir- 
 cumstances connected with it. This is plain from his 
 own words when he comes to his disciples the last time. 
 "Will you sleep on now and take your rest ? It is 
 enough; the hour is come; behold, the Son of Man is 
 betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise up ! Let 
 us go ! Lo, he that betrayeth me is at hand." Says 
 the pious Henry, '' He had a full and clear prospect of 
 all the sufferings that were before him. He foresaw 
 the treachery of Judas, the Unkindness of Peter, the 
 malice of the Jews and their base ingratitude. He 
 knew that he should now in a few hours be scourged, 
 spit upon, crowned with thorns, nailed to the cross; 
 Death, in its most dreadful appearances — death, in 
 pomp, attended with all its terrors, — looked him in the 
 face." 
 
 Thus far we have spoken of the nature of Christ's 
 agony; before we dismiss this part of our subject, let 
 us look for a few moments at its intensity. The evan- 
 gelists evidently wrote in the clearest frame of mind, 
 and are nothing but sober narrators of their facts, 
 even in this and similar instances. Yet the terms they 
 here use are of great emphasis, and the picture which 
 they draw is full of gloom. Christ no sooner comes to 
 the garden, than he takes his three more confidential 
 disciples, separates himself from the rest, and begins 
 to be sorrowful and very heavy (j]o|«7o Xvneiudui xul 
 adijuovnt'^ ; he became overwhelmed and distracted with 
 distress. These two words in the original text, of 
 which the latter is more emphatic than the former so 
 as to make a climax, are joined for the sake of empha- 
 sis to express one thought together, for the expression 
 of which either w*ord alone would have been too weak. 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEIMANE. 93 
 
 This condition of our Lord the disciples first inferred 
 from his appearance, but soon out of the abundance of 
 his depressed heart his mouth spoke. Unable to bear 
 it any longer alone, he said unto them, " My soul" — 
 this word, and sorne other like ones, pass among our 
 critics for a mere personal pronoun even to this day; 
 while every instance that I can recall shows that they 
 are employed foi- the sake of emphasis — "My soul," 
 my very soul (as we should say) " is exceeding sorrow* 
 ful," (n:sQ[luno^^ surrounded with sorrow, " even unto 
 death." Stronger expressions than these do not exist in 
 language, and exaggeration is out of the question here. 
 Then, seeing them weary and sleepy, he adds, "Tarry 
 here," do hot return to the others to sleep; watch with 
 me ! His strength was spent, and for the first time he 
 felt the need of human sympathy. But soon finding 
 even their company burdensome) he tears himself away 
 fropfi thenijj about a stone's cast, to pray alone. Then 
 he assumes the attitude of deepest distress; he falls 
 "on his face" and pours out his soul. Submission he 
 finds in his heart while praying, but relief he finds none. 
 Distressed he returns to his disciples, and " findeth 
 them asleep." And he saith unto Peter "What!" you 
 have made such professions of attachment to me; you 
 wanted to die for me ; ' 'could you not watch with me one 
 hour?" Alas ! he pleads for one hour's sympathy and 
 assistance from his weak and drowsy followers. O! how 
 destitute must be have felt himself! He goes the second 
 time to pray alone, and finds no. relief ; he returns the 
 second time to his disciples, and finds no sympathy. 
 Human relief fails ; God remains his last hope. 
 Tearing away. Qnce, more, he prostrates himself again, 
 9 
 
94 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 (comp. Luke xxii: 45. /cat dcvagag k. t. I.) and now the 
 most awful struggle for life begins. And being in an 
 agony, he prayed more earnestly; and in the cool night 
 season, while prostrated on the damp ground, the sweat 
 of anguish breaks out over his whole body, and is, as it 
 were, great drops of blood falling down to the ground. 
 **And there appeared an angel unto him from Heaven, 
 strengthening him." Such then was his frame of mind 
 that no ordinary means did suffice to relieve him; an 
 angel with an express message and peculiar assur- 
 ances must be sent. High and distinguished honor 
 indeed, to be the bearer of this errand, — an errand 
 before unheard of in Heaven ! But can you think of 
 anything more fit to impress us with ideas of the most 
 awful, I had almost said unnatural distress, than the 
 need of a messenger from Heaven to comfort and 
 strengthen Jesus, the Son of God, lest his distress 
 should crush him? — But we must hasten to our 
 second topic. 
 
 II. I have already and necessarily anticipated so 
 much of the three remaining topics of our meditation, 
 that I may hope to study more brevity in remarking 
 upon them, than I have been able to do thus far. 
 
 There is doubtless something very strange in the 
 conduct of the disciples on this occasion. Eleven 
 pious and tender-hearted, active, self-denying men 
 profoundly asleep, while their beloved master, for 
 whom they were willing to lay down their lives, is dis- 
 tracted with sorrow and writhing under the agonies of 
 death ! For aught that appears, there is no plea to be 
 urged in their behalf. They had not been obliged to 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 95 
 
 watch the previous nights; they had not been fatigued 
 during the week past; all the preceding day they were 
 with Christ at Bethany, except those who ordered the 
 Passover to be prepared. They had just gone through 
 scenes which ought to have stirred at least all the nat- 
 ural powers and sensibilities of their minds. They had 
 just celebrated the deliverance of Israel from bondage, 
 a solemnity which kept many of the Jews up all night; 
 their hearts must have been deeply affected with the 
 humbling example which Christ gave theni in washing 
 their feet, while they were quarrelling for pre-eminence ; 
 deep anxiety had taken hold on them when they heard 
 that one of them should betray Christ; they had just 
 attended the institution of the Lord's Supper, had 
 listened to his last affecting discourses, his last prayer, 
 his repeated admonitions to watch; they had been re- 
 peatedly told that they would all flee and forsake their 
 master this very night, and be offended because of 
 him; Peter had heard that he would betray him three 
 times before morning; they knew that this night some 
 important and dismal prophecies should be fulfilled, 
 and that Christ should be betrayed into the hands of 
 sinners and be put to death; they knew that the traitor 
 was gone already to his infernal work; and when they 
 came to Gethsemane they saw their master's distress 
 of mind, and Peter, John and James heard his press- 
 ing entreaty, — could ye not watch with me one hour! 
 And is it possible, we are obliged to ask, that they 
 could sleep .'' Was it naturally possible for them, 
 under such circumstances, to shut their eyes, and 
 to procure that calmness of mind so indispensable 
 for a night's rest, especially in the open air and on 
 
96 ■ 'meditations. 
 
 the hard ground? It is a fact that they did sleep, and 
 that no combination of the most rousing and alarming 
 circumstances could keep them awake. 
 
 No doubt, it was intended by a holy providence and 
 was one of the burdens which Christ had to bear for 
 lis, that he suffered, destitute of all hurtian consolation. 
 It does seem as though the disciples had been providen- 
 tially given up to the most stupefying influence of this 
 body of clay, to disable them to afford relief to their 
 master, when the unmingled cup of suffering was to be 
 drunk to the bottom. 
 
 Jesus our Saviour, in this destitute and needy condi- 
 tion, is an object of the deepest interest and of liveliest 
 gratitude to those who know the secret ways of God 
 with' his children. They know that every particular 
 sacrifice and deprivation of Christ is like a sown seed, 
 from which rich and waving harvests of spiritual con- 
 solation are continually springing up to the dear little 
 flock of his pasture. Not a prayer, not a sigh, not a 
 tear of his, but it procures for them some heavenly 
 treat; and his fastings and deprivations, his watchful- 
 ness, weariness and exposures are richly decking their 
 spiritual table, and draw the curtain of heavenly peace 
 around the defenceless pillows of their rest. And 
 when in the depth of anguish they feel the soothing 
 influences of Christian tenderness and sympathy, 
 and are upheld by the wrestling intercessions of their 
 beloved in Christ Jesus, when they are carried safely 
 through the trying hour of darkness and distress by the 
 iuithful prayers of their watchful friends, poured forth 
 ia their hearing at the throne of grace j — ah ! then 
 trhcy remember with sweet and humble gratitude the 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. $7 
 
 forsaken Jesus in the garden, and a connection between 
 their spiritual riches and comforts and his destitution 
 becomes clear all at once to their souls, of which 
 they had no conception perhaps while in health of 
 body and in the cheerful vigor of heart and mind. 
 They rejoice then exceedingly with a joy full of glory, 
 that ever he did procure such sweet comforts for 
 their distressed souls, and they are prepared to give 
 him everlasting thanks for every tear he dropped upon 
 the accursed ground of this world. Yet they are 
 careful, too, to learn the important lesson of him, not 
 to lean ultimately upon any created arm. They learn 
 of him, when lawful earthly consolations and sympa- 
 thies fail, to go a little further, and, where no man can 
 see them or overhear their prayer, to fall on their 
 faces and with naked and unalloyed faith and trust in 
 God, to lean upon his almighty arm alone, and to 
 throw themselves with their burden down at his feet, 
 there to live, or there to die, 
 
 III. We now come to our third topic, where Christ 
 appears in the highest splendor of his glory, that is, in 
 the free and entire surrender of his rightful personal 
 claims and his lawful interests to a higher end ; a sur- 
 render made in voluntary and perfect obedience to his 
 Father in Heaven, while himself was sinking into the 
 deep gulf of unmitigated sufterings ; unmitigated^ I 
 say, because relief did not come until the close of his 
 struggle. And here we have before us the most pow- 
 erful and interesting illustration of the very essence of 
 that moral law upon which the divine government resta, 
 "Hath the Lord as great delight in burnt ofFeringa 
 9* 
 
and sacrffices ^as in obeying the voice of the Lord ? 
 Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken 
 than the fat of rams. For rebeWion is a» the sin of 
 witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry.'* 
 "Thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel ; 
 put your burnt offerings unto your sacrifices and eat 
 flesh. Fo-r 1 spake not unto your fathers, nor com- 
 manded them in the day that I brought them out of the 
 land of Egypt, concerning bu7'nt offerings or saerijiees; 
 but this commanded I them, saying, Ohey my voiee, 
 and I will be your God and ye shall be my people." 
 Jer. vii. 21. ; ar •. 
 
 The most free and enlarged sacrifices of Christian 
 love are the highest will and good pleasure of an infi- 
 nitely benevolent God ; and he who performs them 
 most bountifully and conscientiously, acts in the most 
 perfect conformity to the divine nature and obedience 
 to his divine will. Still — singular as it may appear — 
 those sacrifices cannot be commanded and exacted, 
 since this would be destroying their very nature as 
 freef and spontaneous actions of a benevolent mind. 
 
 that we could throw away far from us that earthborn 
 economy which asks. Is it my duty to make such of 
 such sacrifices for the perishing souls of men .'' Alas? 
 
 1 wish it was your inclination to do it, and duty, 
 cold duty, would take good care of itself. But if you 
 must needs ask about duty, do not, 1 pray, bring 
 forward the unhallowed stone and balance of human 
 prudence, and the infidel "calculation of chances," 
 from your arithmetic. Take the balance of the 
 sanctuary ; come here to dark Gethsemane ; kneel 
 down near your Saviour on the ground ; listen to his 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 99 
 
 prayers, his groans ; mark the workings of his torn 
 breast; witness the noblest of all conquests, the freest, 
 greatest of all sacrifices ; drink in his spirit ; and 
 then, then weigh your duty, and do it. But I know, 
 before you have taken hold of the scales, his spirit 
 has carried you away ; the sacrifice which has caused 
 your anxious and unremitted inquiries concerning 
 duty, is made, and has already become the source of 
 high delight and profit to yourself — "And he went a 
 little farther, about a stone's cast, and fell on his face 
 and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let 
 this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but 
 as thou wilt." "i\nd he went away again the second 
 time, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if this cup 
 may not pass away from me, except 1 drink it, thy will 
 be done!" "And he left them and went away again 
 and prayed the third time, saying the same words." 
 
 Shall I spoil and darken and tarnish the moral beauty 
 of this quotation by explanatory and commendatory 
 remarks, to make it intelligible to some of my hearers, 
 whose spiritual sense may as yet be dead ? As well 
 might the earth send up smoke and clouds to polish 
 the sun and the moon and the stars, that the sightless 
 eyeball might be blest with the glories of the firma- 
 ment. No ! Let those comment upon such a pas- 
 sage, who never understood, who never felt its awful 
 solemnity. 
 
 My brethren and sisters, who know by happy expe- 
 rience the realities of that glorious world to which 
 you are travelling, you, who have a living impression 
 of the nature of holiness, and of the spirit of Christ and 
 its ways and workings in man, tell me, do you have 
 
100 MEDITATIOxNS. 
 
 an ideal of perfection among your loftiest moral con- 
 ceptions of whose heavenly birth you are most satis- 
 fied ? do you have among your loftiest conceptions an 
 ideal of holiness reaching beyond the one now before 
 you ? Such obedience exercised by such a personage, 
 under such circumstances, with such immediate pros- 
 pects, for such a purpose — can your imagination 
 stretch beyond it ? Do you not feel now like replying, 
 '«And we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only be- 
 gotten of the Father, full of grace and truth?" Is it not 
 the image of the invisible God ? Ay ! It is too holy 
 to have originated anywhere but in Heaven. It flows 
 down in streams with the tender mercies of God. 
 Well ! Christ hath left us an example that we should 
 follow his footsteps. To him it was a hard task to 
 obey, for he was left alone. To us it will be a delight- 
 ful one through his gracious presence and help, pro- 
 vided we do not make delight and comfort the condi- 
 tion of our obedience and submission. "Obey my 
 voice, saith Jehovah, and I will be your God, and ye 
 shall be my people." 
 
 IV. When the anguish of the Saviour had reached 
 the highest pitch sustainable by a human frame, then 
 the heavens opened, and an angel descended to 
 strengthen him. It might perhaps appear to some 
 that not consolation, but merely supernatural strength 
 to continue and sustain the contest, was sent. 
 (Compare Luke xxii. 43, 44.) This may have been 
 true. Still, after the last summons of Christ to his 
 disciples, to awake and prepare for the enemy's ap- 
 proach when Judas and his band drew near, we find 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 101 
 
 Christ collected and calm in his mind, and clothed 
 with a dignity so superior to human as to prostrate the 
 rude hireUngs of the high priest to the ground. Hence 
 I infer that the strength sent to him from above, in- 
 cluded comfort of mind, consciousness of his character, 
 assurance of his ultimate success, and whatsoever was 
 needed to prepare him for his last hours, so as to enable 
 him in one holy and decisive encounter to foil the 
 malicious combination of incarnate devils on earth, and 
 the crowning effort of Satan's subtilty and strength, 
 whose hour and power was now fast drawing near. 
 
 So the xxii and the Ixix Psalms and the iiii chapter 
 of Isaiah, as they paint the sufferings of the Mes- 
 siah, throw character and dignity around his sacred 
 person and crown him with victory at last. No pro- 
 fane eye ought to have seen him in that disconsolate 
 condition; and none did see him in it. Before the 
 infernal band draws near, God has comforted his 
 suffering child, and there he stands, with the meek' and 
 gentle majesty of a superior being, dressed in the 
 formidable armor of holiness, with that calm great- 
 ness of heavenly love beaming from his eyes which 
 remains the conquering queen of hearts, and forces 
 veneration and worship from the wickedest wretch^ 
 even when herself under the heel of brute force. The 
 black cloud, the roaring thunder, the lightning, and 
 the rattling hail, the howling storm are past, and the 
 blue heavens of the divine favor, and the shining 
 countenance of his Father's love, smile again. And 
 oh ! what could he wish for more ? what peril, what 
 fate could he not meet under his heavenly Father's 
 approving smiles ? 
 
102 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 Blessed be God, whose government beams with 
 wisdom, justice and love. " The king shall joy in thy 
 strength, O Lord, and in thy salvation shall he greatly 
 rejoice ! Thou hast given him his heart's desire, and 
 hast not withholden the request of his lips. Selah. He 
 asked life of thee and thou givest it him, even length 
 of days for ever more." But not only love to his dear, 
 only begotten Son prompted him to send his messenger 
 of consolation to Gethsemane, — love to a perishing 
 world was another motive, and I may well say 
 here, it was the grand one, — for which may eternal 
 glory surround his blessed throne ! After all, my 
 brethren, he knew his dear, holy child must expire 
 under the burden of our sins. "Without the shed- 
 ding of blood, there is no forgiveness" for sinners. 
 His son Jesus must die, whether on the cold, damp 
 ground of Gethsemane, or on the accursed tree on 
 Golgotha; — after all, what difference, what choice was 
 there between these two alternatives. And as for 
 Jesus, if he was willing to become obedient even unto 
 the death of the cross, surely he would have been 
 willing also to become obedient unto a death upon the 
 ground. But in that law, which will stand when Heaven 
 and earth shall have passed away, it is written ; ' 'Cursed 
 is every one that continueth not in all things which 
 are written in the book of the law to do them," and 
 against is written, '^ cursed is every one that hangeth 
 on a tree." Christ must die on the cross, on the 
 accursed tree ; the antitype of the brazen serpent 
 must be raised high to sprinkle kings and nations 
 with his blood, and pour down healing and eternal 
 life upon a guilty world. Amen, and amen, our 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 103 
 
 inmost souls reply. Go on, go on, thou Friend of 
 dying sinners! Complete the blessed work begun, 
 that our souls may live. God speed thee, O thou con- 
 queror over death and hell ! Break, by thy powerful 
 and victorious cross, the strong bars of our eternal 
 prison ! Then ride forth and prosper, and our souls 
 shall follow hard after thee; and while we have a breath 
 to draw, if we are here below, we will profess and 
 proclaim thy love and thy name before the world; if 
 we are in Heaven above, we will sing songs of immor- 
 tal gratitude and praise to thee, till eternity shall be 
 no more. Amen. 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 V. 
 
 CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDEMNATION 
 OF CHRIST. 
 
 MARK XIV. 43 J XV. 1—23. 
 
 And immediati-Iy, while he yet spako, cnmeth Judas, ono of iha tw^-Ive, and 
 with him a girat mullitudu with swurda and slaves, Irom the chief priests, and 
 the scribes, and the tl.le's. 
 
 And straightway in iho mornin», thf» chief priests held a cnnsultalion with tlie 
 elders and scribot* and the wliole council, find boun i Jesu!', and carried him away, 
 and delivered him to Pilate. And Pilate usked hi". Art thou the King of the 
 Jews? And he answering, said unto him, Thou sayest it. And the » hief ])rie8tii 
 accused him of many thiri^^s ; but he answered nothing. And Pilate asked bim 
 again, Saying, Answ.-rest thou nothing .•" behold how many things they witnefMS 
 ■gainst thee. But Jesus yet unswereil nothing; so that Pilate marvpllud. Now 
 nt that feast he released unto them one prisoner, wIiomsoF.ver they desired. And 
 there was one name<l Barabbas, which lay bound with them that had made insur- 
 rection with him, who had committed murJnr in the insurjcction. And tb* 
 multitude, cr) ing aloud, began to desire him to do as he had ever done unto them. 
 But Pilate answered ihem, saying, Will ye that I release untu you the King of 
 Ihn Jews ? For he knew that the chief priests had delivered him for envy. Bat 
 the chief priests moved the people, that he nhoulJ rather release Barabbas unto 
 them. And Pilate answered and said again unto them, What will ye then tkat 
 I shall do unto hira whom ye call the King of the Jev.'s? And they cried out' 
 again, Crucify him. Then Pilato laid unto tbem, Why, what evil hath he 
 
 10 
 
106 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 done? And tliey criod out the more exceedingly, Crucify liitn. And so Pilate, 
 willing to content the pe«>|<le, rekaseil Barabbas unto them, and delivered Jesus, 
 vrlien lie had scourged him, to he crucified. And the soldiers led him away into 
 the hall called Pretorium ; and thoy called together tlie whole band. And they 
 clothed him with purple, and platted u crown of thorns, and put it about his head, 
 nnd began to salute him, Hail, King of the Jews ! And they smote him on the 
 head with a reed, and oid spit upon liim, and bowing their knees, worshipped hnn. 
 And when tlicy had mocked him, they look off the purple from him, and put his 
 own clothes on luni, and led him out to ( rucify h m. 
 
 Compare Matthew xxvi, 47; xxvii, 1 — ".]. Luke x.\ii, 47; xxiii, 1 — 25 
 John xvjji, 3; xix, 1 — 16. 
 
 We now come to the history of the capture, arraign- 
 ment and condemnation of our Lord. The passages of 
 holy writ which I have read, contain the account of 
 that event as related in the evangelist St. Mark. The 
 proper text for this discourse would again have been a 
 harmony of the four Evangelists on the subject in 
 hand; or you might have expected at least, that, as I 
 have done heretofore, I should now also supply the 
 deficiency of the evangelist from whom I have bor- 
 rowed my text by the additional information with which 
 the other three evangelists favor us, and then 
 arrange the subject of our meditation under distinct 
 heads, and proceed to my remarks. This, however, 
 cannot be done in the present instance. This part 
 of our Lord's history is so closely connected, that it 
 seems ^o be incapable of any division which would not 
 much rather deserve the name of laceration, while on 
 the other hand it is of such a length and in various 
 places seemingly so discrepant, that a harmony of the 
 four evangelists and an exhibition of the event as it 
 results from their joint testimony, must needs occupy 
 near the length of c. whole discourse, although the most 
 rigid economy of time, and the greatest conciseness of 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDEMNATION. 107 
 
 style be united to keep it within the narrowest possible 
 bounds. 
 
 Yieldins to these circumstances, I resolved at last 
 to devote the Avhole of the present discourse to the 
 plaia exhibition of our story, permitting myself only 
 such explanatory remarks as may serve to give it all 
 the fullness to which our sources of information and 
 the limits of a discourse permit us to attain; in which 
 remarks, however, I shall the more willingly indulge, 
 (and be indulged in by my hearers also, I hope) 
 that we may have the more spiritual improvement 
 as .ve go along. And if, at the close of this medita- 
 tion, it shall appear to us that our suffering Lord, in 
 his crown of thorns on his bleeding head, in his purple 
 robe thrown over his lacerated breast and shoulders, 
 is a subject on which our hearts would delight to dwell 
 stiil farther; and if I can obtain some assurance that 
 divine aid will be still vouchsafed to me in meditating 
 upon this delightful theme, I shall, if I live and the 
 Lord please, make Him the exclusive subject of our 
 next meditation, and then dismiss the theme upon 
 which we are now entering. 
 
 While Jesus made his last effort to rouse his disciples 
 to watchfulness and prayer, Judas and his band entered 
 the gate of the farm, and proceeded, as it seems, 
 directly to the place where Christ and his disciples used 
 to rest. The band consisted of a number of Roman 
 soldiers (cr.Tc^o.Jt) and a great multitude (Matthew xxvi, 
 47; Mark xiv.) of officers, or servants (John xviii. 3) 
 from the high priests and the elders of the people. 
 They had "lanterns and torches," (John,) which 
 shows that the night was a dark one, (John xiii, 30,) 
 
108 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 though the moon was now at the full. They were 
 armed with "swords and staves," (Matthew and Mark) 
 to be ready for a violent onset in case resistance should 
 be offered. To prevent all mistakes, and to give more 
 efficiency to the expedition, some of the chief priests 
 (i. e. some who had been such in times past) and some 
 of the captains of the temple (cr uri]yol mv Ifonv^ came 
 with them. (Luke xxii, 52.) The Roman soldiery, 
 however, were the proper executors in this case, and 
 as they, of course, had no personal acquaintance with 
 Christ, and probably never saw him before, it was 
 necessary that the person to be apprehended should be 
 pointed out to them on the spot; a cauticn which the 
 darkness of the night rendered still more necessary. 
 Judas, who marched at the head of the band, and who 
 was the pilot of the whole enterprise, showed himself 
 forward to do what indeed he was most fit for, and to 
 mark to them their victim by a kiss, which was then 
 the highest mark of friendship and picus afiection, as 
 various passages in Paul's writings cleaily show. 
 Against most critics I assume that the soldiers were 
 Romans; not only because they evidently did not know 
 Christ, while the servants or guard of the temjle must 
 have known him: but also, because they are called omBiQa 
 band, (John xviii, 3) which always marks the Roman 
 soldiery in the New Testament becquse (John xviii, 12) 
 they have a yj^'^'^'^X^^^ o'' captain over.a thousand, also an 
 expression never a;iplied to the captains [otouiijyol') of 
 the temple; because, in the same verse, the band and 
 its captain over a thousand are distinguished from the 
 servants of the Jews ('4 tnrioinn i^p iH^utvo); because 
 (according to Luke xxii, 52) there were several cap- 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGPJMENT, AND CONDEMNATION. 109 
 
 tains of the temple on the spot, while only one captain 
 over thousand (^Xtllaoxo^) was present; again, because 
 Christ, coming to his disciples the last time after he 
 aross from prayer, says, " The son of man is (about 
 to be) betrayed into the hands of sinners," («'/«^7u»Ao/, 
 uD''p/'7) or heathen ; and finally, because the high 
 priests evidently wisiied to do all they could to secure • 
 their victim, while the Roman governor would naturally 
 assist them in the prosecution of persons designated 
 by them as dangerous. Instances when the heads of 
 religious sects prosecute their dissenting church mem- 
 bers by means of a secular power, whose religious 
 sentinents are equally against either party, are still 
 so numerous in these countries, that we need not go 
 very far to illustrate to a most surpassing degree of 
 satisfaction the proceedings of the high priests and 
 elders in the present instance. 
 
 Our Lord, knowing that his enemies are at hand, 
 does not await their full approach; but leaving his dis- 
 ciples, meets at a small distance the band, who may 
 have been looking this way and that way among the 
 trees, lest, having perceived their approach, our Lord 
 should make his escape. Calm and with becoming 
 dignity, he asks them. Whom seek ye ? Some of the 
 Jews, probably not distinguishing him at. the moment, 
 answer, "Jesus of Naiareth," '* Jesus saith unto'them, 
 I am /j-e." And Judas also which betrayed him stood 
 with them; but he stands aghast, as it seems, not able 
 to gather up courage that moment to fulfill his iniquitous 
 engagements. As soon then as he had said unto them, 
 I am he, they went backward and fell to the ground. 
 John xviii. 
 
 10* 
 
110 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 There was certainly nothing terrifying in the word 
 of our Lord. How then was the " gieat multitude,** 
 as Matthew calls them, all at once prostrated ? After 
 all the attempts to explain away the force of this 
 passage, the only reasonable answer remains this; they 
 were prostrated by tlie divine dignity of the Saviour*8 
 word and appearance, under whose tremendous weight, 
 if unveiled, no created being would have been able 
 to stand up. It was a ray of the inaccessible light 
 of supreme power and majesty, whicli shot through 
 these miserable worms of the dust. Christ speaking 
 to the Jews, probably spoke Hebrew to ihem. The 
 only woids he cculd use in the present instsmce are 
 " Wi 'J^^ I am he." But this expressiDn had already 
 acquired a deep and sacred meaning by the manner in 
 which it is used several times in the Old Testament. 
 A few examples will be in place here. Isaiah xli, 4, 
 " I am Jchovaii, the first and the last — I am he;" chap, 
 xliii, 13, "Yea, before the day was," (or better, 
 before there was any day) " i am he, and there is none 
 that can deliver out of rny hand. I will work and who 
 shall let it ?" and chap, xiviii, 12, '* Harken unto me, 
 O Jacob, and Israel, my called; I am he; I am the 
 first, I also am the last." Pronounced with emphasis, 
 then, the expression must have been in the highest 
 degree awful and imposing to a Jew. And what 
 makes me think that our Lord did utter it with em- 
 phasis, is that he had already done so on some former 
 occasions. (John viii. 68.) "Jesus said unto them, 
 (the Jews) Verily, verily, I say unto you, before 
 Abraham was, I am. Then took they up stones to cast 
 at him," well aware that this was saying more than a 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDEMNATION. Ill 
 
 mere man ought to say of himself. Had he been a 
 mere man, it would have been blasphemy. And the 
 same is probably also true in reference to verse 24. 
 *' If ye believe not that I am he, ye shall die in your 
 sins." Struck through with awe, high prit sts, servants, 
 temple soldiers, and the band start back and fall to the 
 ground. Nor did they rise again without his permis- 
 sion, which, however, he readily gave, lor he now 
 veils again the terrors of his glory, he asks them once 
 more, but in tcinj citd accents, when; £< (k ye } And 
 when they make out to answer again as before, he 
 rejoins, " 1 have told you, that 1 am he, (probably 
 now omitting the emphasis); if therefore ye seek me, 
 let these (pointing at his disciples) go their way." 
 This containing a tacit permission to the band and the 
 Jews to take him, they rise from the ground, probably 
 some smiling, some angry, at their su[;erstitiGus fears 
 as they thought them to be, just as the ungodly worldling 
 always does when the solemn time of divine visitation 
 and rebuke is over. Judas, too, now gets over his 
 -fears, which at first seemed to check him, and true to 
 his father the devil, even where it was no njore neces- 
 sary, (for Christ had m:ide himself known) he lays hold 
 of our Lord, and kissing him exclaims, *' Hail, Master!" 
 •*Then they laid their hands on him and took him and 
 bound him," as John adds. Some of the disciples ask 
 Christ, v/hether they ought to offer resistance. Peter, 
 without waiting for an answer, and to show some of his 
 promised courage, cuts ofT the ear of the high priest *9 
 servant, which deed Christ disapprove •, and healing 
 instantly the servant, merely remarks to the high 
 priests, the captains of the temple and the elders, 
 
112 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 *' Be ye come out as against a thief with swords and 
 staves ? (Luke xxii, 52.) When I was daily with 
 you in the emple, ye stretched forth no hands against 
 me; but this is your hour and the power of darkness." 
 (Matihew xxvi, 56.) "But all this was done that the 
 scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled. Then all 
 his disciples forsook him and fied;" probably scared by 
 some, who attempted taking vengeance on them for the 
 suggestion of resisting by force, and the deed of Peter. 
 Christ being bound, and tbe discij)ics ijaving escaped, 
 the company returns without delay. Mark xiv, 51, 
 *' A young man," probably belonging o tlie people 
 on the farm, endeavors to follow Christ, but being 
 violently seized by the band, leaves his garments in 
 their hands, and flees. Peter and John (John xviii, 
 15) soon return frcm their flights, and follow the pro- 
 cession at a distance. 
 
 The first house at which they called was that of 
 i\nnas. Annas had been high priest a short time ago, 
 but was deposed by Valerius, and his son-in-law 
 Caiaphas occupied the station now The reason of 
 their stopping at his house, was probably this. Annas 
 was an old man, who did not wivsh to go to the council 
 at so late an hour, unless he was sure that Christ was 
 there ; and as his house was probably so situated that the 
 company Iiad to pass by him, in proceeding to Caiaphas, 
 he may have requested the leaders of the band to call 
 in passing, that he might follow the procession to (he 
 house of his son-in-law, where the council was assem- 
 bled. 
 
 '[he larijer houses in Jerusalem used to form a 
 square enclosing a yard of the same shape, in which 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDE NATION. 113 
 
 fifuests were often received, especlfilly when numerous, 
 and public business was transacted. Into this yard 
 of Caiaphas' house the band entered, and it was 
 there where the Sanhedrim had convened at this time; 
 for, to go to the temple, where a large room was 
 appropriated for such conventions, was probably con- 
 sidered improper at this hour. 
 
 John, who seems to have enjoyed the favor of the 
 high priest, although he foliovved Christ, entered soon 
 after and procured permission for Peter to enter 
 likewise. That the high priest should have been so 
 indujfjent with John, may have been owing to his 
 youth, or to relationship, or to the frequent gifts which 
 the old, wealthy, and devoted Zebedceused to send from 
 his net to the kitchen and table of his holiness, or to 
 many other circumstances which we cannot now divine. 
 Somewhat near to tlie duor, the servants had kindled 9. 
 fire, to warm themselves. To this fire Peter resorted, 
 probably to hide himself among the crowd in order to 
 escape public notice, while John seems to have been 
 sitting or standing solitary at a small distance, that the 
 noise and idle talk of the soldiers and servants might 
 not hinder him from listening to the proceedings of the 
 council. These proceedings were indeed absorbingly 
 interesting in various respects, and we will ourselves 
 turn our attention to them without delay. 
 
 The whole Sanhedrim and no small number of other 
 individuals, all enemies of Christ, were present, and 
 Christ stood before them bound, and ready for the 
 trial. The regular method, according to the law of 
 Moses and their own traditions, would have been to 
 bring forward and examine the witnesses against him. 
 
114 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 There was, however, a difficulty of no small conse- 
 quence in the way of doing so. They had no witnesses 
 to examine, and no crime to charge him ivilh, and 
 Caiaphas must have been at a loss indeed how to 
 open the examination. Hence, to extricate himself if 
 possible, and perhaps Vv'ith a hope to catch something 
 out of our Lord's own mouth (John xviii, 19) which 
 might be turned against him, the high priest begins 
 by asking Christ himself "of his disciples and of his 
 doctrine." This was a proceeding in various respects 
 cbjectionable. It was against all principles of equity 
 and good sense, which never require a man to criminate 
 himself; it was against the law of Moses, and against 
 their own acknowledged tradition; and what is more 
 than all this, it reflected upon the character of Christ, 
 intimating that he might have secret machinations and 
 plans to reveal and to confess : a miserable and 
 iniquitous contrivance to cover the dishonorable fact, 
 that they had not wliereof to accuse him in any lawful 
 way. The reflection contained in the address was the 
 chief thing which drew forth the meekly defensive, but 
 energetic answer of our I^ord. o suffer wrong he 
 was come, and he was willing so to suffer it and did 
 so; but reflections upon his character, which was to 
 become the foundation of all saving faith through all 
 generations to come, he wns not called to tolerate, he 
 never did and never will tolerate them. Nor was it 
 a hard matter to clear it. He had taught among them 
 full three years publicly before them and all the people, 
 and there were men enough present who had heard 
 and disputed with him on all the great topics of 
 biblical and Rabbinic learning, K.nd controversy, and 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDEMNATION. Il5 
 
 doubt ; they were both able and willing to testify 
 against him, had they known what to say. Why did 
 none of these sanctimonious zealots open his mouth 
 and accuse him boldly now, when there was the most 
 perfect security and a lawful oj^portunity to do so ? 
 A firm answer was absolutely called for here, and 
 it was given. (John xviii, 20, 21.) " Jesus answered 
 him, I spake openly before the world ; I ever taught 
 in the synagogue and in the temple, whither the Jews 
 always resort; and in secret I have said nothing. 
 Why aske?t thou nie .'' ask them, which heard me, 
 what I have said unto them: behold, they know what 
 I said." 
 
 By this reply the mcuth of the Sanhedrim is stopped; 
 but an officious servant, violating both divine and 
 human laws, smites Christ in his face in the presence 
 of a civil and eccicsiaftical bcaid, adding to this rude 
 insult the inconsistent charge of irreverence towards 
 the high priest; which new reticction upon his character 
 and conduct cur Lcid repels for the same reason, and 
 with the same meekness and firmness as hefore. " If I 
 have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil, (prove it;) 
 but if well, why smitest tliou me r" The aitful con- 
 trivance to make our Lord criminate himself having 
 failed, fnlse testimony is resoitcd to. Put in the council 
 of the Most High it v.as decided that the haracter of 
 his Son should remain even without the shadow of a 
 blemish, and the synagogue of satan without the shadow 
 of an excuse. To render the testimony of two witnesses 
 valid, they must be separated, else their testimony is 
 not a testimony, but a plot; though it is by no means 
 certain that this was done in the.present instance. 
 
116 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 However this may be, God divided their tongues; 
 their testimony was discordant, whilst its falsehood 
 was, even aside from the disagreement of the witnesses, 
 as clear as noonday. (Matthew > xvi, 59, 60.) ** Now 
 the chief priests and elders, and all the council, sought 
 false witness against Jesus, to put him to death; but 
 found none : yea, though many false witnesses came, 
 yet found they none (that agreed.) At last came two 
 false witnesses, and said, this fellow said, I am able to 
 destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three 
 days.*' So Matthew; Mark, probably giving us the 
 testimony of the other witness in question, makes the 
 testimony run thus. (Mark xiv, 53.) **We have heard 
 him say, 1 will destroy this temple that is made with 
 hands, and within three days I will build another made 
 without hands, but neither so did their witnessed 
 agree together," the evangelist adds. Now, had these 
 charges been both harmonious and true, no sentence of 
 death could lawfully have been passed upon Christ on 
 their account; for they are mere charges of boasting, 
 and are evidently allegorical; though as they were, they 
 gave each other openly the lie, and were barefaced 
 perversions of John ii, 19, where cur Lord speaks 
 of his own body under the metaphor of the temple. 
 ** Destroy this temple," he says to the Jews there, 
 meaning his body, ** and in three days I will raise it 
 up." ^or did the infuriated Sanhedrim dare to build 
 a,ny verdict upon these accusations, and the high priest 
 was brought again to the dire necessity of addressing 
 another senseless and perfectly uncalled-for question 
 to the innocent and defenceless victim of their rage. 
 Rising up in the anguish of his soul in the midst of the 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDEMNATION. 117 
 
 council, he asked Jesus, saying : " Answerest thou 
 nothing? What is it which these witness against 
 thee?" — as though mighty accusations had been 
 brought forward, and there was now occasion for 
 refutation and vigorous defence. The answer which 
 our Lord gave him, was indeed the most powerful one 
 which the circumstances admitted of. (Matthew xxvi, 
 63.) " But Jesus held his peace." The import of 
 this significant silence was plain, and it was confound- 
 ing and mighty. What need is there (for this is the 
 tneaning of it) of my replying to these open, self-con- 
 tradictory lies, which even you cannot and do not 
 believe, nor dare to sentence me on their account : 
 (Mark xiv, 61.) " But he held his peace and ansv/ered 
 nothing." Now the Sanhedrim was in great straits. 
 All the night had been spent in examining false 
 witnesses to no purpose, and an evil fate seemed to 
 confound and subvert every artful contrivance of the 
 seventy wise men of Jerusalem, and of all their hire- 
 lings and satellites. Already the morning began to 
 dawn; (compare Luke xxii, 66;) the unwelcome sun 
 with hastening steps pressed hard upon them. The 
 latest time to finish the hard task was at hand ; and 
 yet the detested, feared, hated young Rabbi stocd still 
 in the midst of them, alone, with his hands bound, 
 defenceless, and meek, but firm, inculpable, uncon- 
 victed, unconquered, unconquerable; and their cause 
 was more desperate than when they set out. There 
 they were, sitting about, silent, with exhausted heads 
 and blushing countenances, put to flight by the 
 innocence of their defendant, and fairly at their wit's 
 end. Then the high priest, cutting his way through 
 11 
 
118 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 right and wrong to the blood and murder of that man 
 against whom neither true nor false witness would 
 avail, said unto Jesus, (Matthew xxvi, 63) "I adjure 
 thee" (^^'liuiA') i.e. I cause thee to swear, "by the 
 living God;" " tell us whether thou be the Christ, the 
 Son of God?" This form added to a proposed question, 
 put the person to whom it was addressed under obliga- 
 tion to reply under the most solemn oath, if he 
 answered at all. Christ did answer — and what? 
 (Matthew xxvi, 64,) "Jesus saith unto him, Thou 
 hast said," i. e. it is so, I am he. " Nevertheless," 
 i. e. moreover, "I say unto you, hereafter,"!, e. 
 hen eforward, " shall ye see the Son of Man sitting on 
 the right hand of power," i. e. of God Almighty, " and 
 coming in the clouds of Heaven" to judge and reign 
 over this world, and to manage the affairs of the 
 universe. The places of the Old Testament which 
 Christ has in view here, and which give us the full 
 import of his reply, you find in Psalms ex, and Daniel 
 vii, 13, 14. The first reads thus; "The Lord said 
 unto my Lord, sit thou at. my right hand until I make 
 thine enemies thy footstool." And the other, "I saw 
 in the night visions; and behold, one like the Son of 
 Man came with the clouds of Heaven and came to 
 the ancient of days, and they brought him near before 
 him. And there was given him dominion and glory 
 and kingdom (not a kingdom, as our version says) that 
 all people, nations and languages should serve him: 
 his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall 
 not pass away; and his kingdom that which shall not 
 be destroyed." Here some of the most unbelieving 
 critics agree that the Messiah is spoken of, and hia 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDEMNATION. 119 
 
 divine nature asserted. And Christ applies the 
 passages to himself under oath. I am overwhelmed at 
 the thought ! Where is now the miserable accommo- 
 dation system of unbelieving men, who tell us that 
 Jesus conformed wisely to the superstitions of his age; 
 and in order to gain a salutary and lawful influence 
 among the Jews, pretended to be just that fabled 
 Messiah, the vain expectation of whose coming occu- 
 pied their vacant and sensual minds ? Where is it? 
 It is blown to ten thousand tatters by the force of this 
 single passage. Christ has established his divine 
 character upon the most solemn oath conceivable, and 
 he is either a perjured blasphemer, or he sits now upon 
 the throne of glory in Heaven, and will come to judge 
 the world in righteousness, and reign from the rising to 
 the setting sun for ever and ever; while their selfspun^ 
 selfwoven system will prove vanity and a lie and a 
 spider's web in the dread day of eternal retribution. 
 And you, all the enemies of his universal kingdom, or 
 you, cold and thoughtless despisers of his dying love ! 
 tremble at the greatness of his character and his power, 
 and at the gloom and terror of your hastening doom. 
 Either Christ is now in the lowest hell suffering the 
 punishment of his false oath, or you must ere long go 
 there, confounded by his sovereign and righteous 
 sentence, and struck down by the thunderbolts of his 
 omnipotence. 
 
 But some one might ask. Was it proper that Christ 
 should establish his divine character by an oath ? The 
 answer is, he had done so already before he came in 
 the flesh. Is. xlv, 22, 23, — "I am God, and there is 
 none else. I have sworn by myself; the word is gone 
 
120 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 out of my mouth in righteousness and shall not return, 
 that unto me every knee shall bow." 
 
 But we must return to our story. On hearing the 
 reply of our Lord, the high priest, taking the very 
 thing in question for granted, and assuming against all 
 propriety and good sense that Jesus was not the Mes- 
 siah, pronounced him a blasphemer, and hiding his 
 infernal joy under the mask of pious horror, rends his 
 garment. Matt, xxvi, Qd, etc. — "He hath spoken 
 blasphemy," he exclaims; "what further need have 
 we of witnesses ?" (thus confessing that they had no 
 witness in fact.) "Behold, now ye have heard his blas- 
 phemy. What think you.'' They answered and said, 
 He is guilty of death. Then did they spit in his face, 
 and buffeted him, and others smote him with the palms 
 of their hands," (covering his countenance) "saying: 
 Prophecy unto us then, Christ, who is he that smote 
 thee?" In these abuses, the servants continued until 
 the time was come to proceed to Pilate, while the San- 
 hedrim retired, to take farther counsel what to do next 
 with him. His death was unanimously agreed upon. 
 In the mean time Peter denies his Lord ; but a reprov- 
 ing, forgiving look of his suffering Master restores the 
 perishing soul to repentance and life. Want of time 
 forbids us to attend in particular to this interesting 
 subject. Of Judas Iscariot, too, we have only time to 
 say that he was evidently present all the night. It 
 was about this time that he approached the Sanhedrim, 
 confessing his guilt and desiring them to take their 
 money back. On receiving a spiteful answer from 
 them, he is driven to despair, and instead of casting 
 himself now at his Master's feet, runs by him, right to 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDEMNATION. 121 
 
 the temple, where he throws down the reward of blood; 
 and procuring a rope goes and hangs himself. The 
 cord, being too feeble, breaks, and he is prostrated 
 from some considerable height; his body bursts and his 
 bowels gush out to the ground, while his poor soul 
 goes "to her own place." 
 
 We now hasten to the judgment hall of Pilate, to 
 which Christ, still bound, was hurried, as soon as the 
 rising sun promised admittance at that criminal court. 
 Careful not to dehle themselves, the Jews refused to 
 enter into the judgment hall, and the Roman governor 
 was humane enough to come out to them to hear their 
 cause. Conscious that they had nothing whereof to 
 accuse Christ, they first endeavor to overawe the 
 governor by the authority and dignity of their Sanhe- 
 drim; and when he asks them, "What accusation 
 bring ye against this man ?" they proudly reply, "If 
 he were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered 
 him up unto thee. Then said Pilate unto them: Take 
 ye him and judge him according to your law. The 
 Jews therefore said unto him, it is not lawful for us 
 to put any man to death." 
 
 According to the traditions of the Jews themselves, 
 the power of capital punishment was removed from the 
 Sanhedrim about forty years before the destruction of 
 the temple, (i. e. about this time.) The reasons of this 
 and the manner in which it was done, we are unable to 
 ascertain. The probability is, that the growing influ- 
 ence of the Roman governor, and the declining and 
 degenerating character of the Sanhedrim, rendered 
 proper, and gradually introduced, such a change. 
 About this time this law, by which the Sanhedrim was 
 U* 
 
122 
 
 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 deprived of the power of capital punishment, was a 
 new thing and not yet carried quite into execution. 
 This throws light upon the difficulties of our passage. 
 The governor, not very anxious to settle the religious 
 quarrels of the synagogue, was rather willing to leave 
 it to them according to the old custom, unless they 
 could show cause why the sentence of death should be 
 passed; while the careful Jews were unwilling to take 
 the responsibility upon themselves, and appeal to the 
 neiv regulation. Indeed, that this was the state of 
 things then, is implied in the remark which John adds 
 to this part of the story. According to that remark, 
 the cause was not transmitted to Pilate entirely in the 
 common and regular course of business, but "that the 
 saying of Jesus might be fulfilled," (i. e. that he should 
 be delivered into the hands of the heathen.) (Matt, xx, 
 19.) The governor having refused to condemn Christ 
 wiUiout a cause, the Jews (Luke xxiii, 2) begin "to 
 accuse him, saying, We found this fellow perverting 
 the nation and forbidding to give tribute to Cesar, 
 saying, that he himself is Christ, a king." What an 
 open falsehood this was, is too plain to be proved. 
 Had not Christ most positively approved of this giving 
 tribute. How well Pilate knew his men, and how little 
 he believed their statements, will appear frcm his own 
 conduct. Indeed, if we think of the placid and meek 
 countenance of our Lord, (for the counteiiance is the 
 mirror of the mind unless consummate hypocrisy 
 dwells within,) and of the impression which his whole 
 appearance was calculated to make, what more power- 
 ful refutation of^ such a charge is there conceivable, than 
 just his mere presence, his looks and the expression 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDEMNATION. 123 
 
 of his eye. "When he was accused of the chief 
 priests and elders, he answered nothing. Then saith 
 Pilate unto him, Hearest thou not how many things 
 they witness against thee .'' And he answered him 
 never a word, insomuch that the governor marvelled 
 greatly." (Matthew xxvii, 12.) How much this part 
 of Christ's conduct was calculated to show his inno- 
 cence, and how far his disposition was from that of a 
 rebel against the government, I need not tell you, nor 
 did it escape the attention of Pilate. Upon this indict- 
 ment, Pilate, far from believing it, takes Chiist with 
 him into the judgment hall, to examine him farther. 
 "Art thou the king of the Jews?" he asks him. 
 (John xviii, 33.) To which our Lord replies more 
 largely than we should have expected. Showing that 
 his silence on the outside was owing neither to stub- 
 bornness nor to insensibility; " Sayest thou this thing 
 of thyself," is his answer, "or did others tell it thee 
 of mer" (v. 34.) i. e. I appeal to thyself whether this 
 question is prompted by thy own impression or convic- 
 tion ? do 1 look like an aspiring, daring outlaw and 
 opposer of government .'' Is it not the clamor of the 
 Jews which makes thee ask this question ? To which 
 Pilate replies, "Am I a Jew ?" (v. 35.) 1 live in no 
 expectation of a Jewish king. To be sure, "thine 
 own nation and the chief priests have delivered thee 
 unto me; what hast thou done?" Thou must after all 
 have committed some crime! To this, Christ answers 
 again: to the former question, whether I am a king, 
 I reply, I am a king. Yet not a temporal one. My 
 kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of 
 this world, then would my servants fight, that I should 
 
124 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 not be delivered to the Jews. (v. 36.) My very condi- 
 tion shows the nature of my kingdom. Pilate perfectly 
 understood the meaning of Christ by an easy reference 
 to some popular maxims of the stoics, and taking him 
 for an innoxious but eccentric personage, he answers, 
 probably smiling, "Art thou a king then!" is it not 
 true, after all, that thou art a king ? (v. 37.) But 
 Christ, preserving dignity, replies, "Thou sayest (right) 
 that I am a king. To this end was 1 born and for this 
 cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness 
 unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth, heareth 
 my voice." Then Pilate, showing his scepticism, ex- 
 claims, 'What is truth .'" And when he had said this, 
 says John, he went again unto the Jews and saith unto 
 them, I find in him no fault at all." (v. 38.) But 
 "they were the more fierce, saying, he stirreth up the 
 people, teaching throughout all Jewry, beginning from 
 Galilee to this place." So Luke xxiii, 5. They pur- 
 posely and invidiously mention Galilee, as that province 
 was renowned particularly for the seditious dispositions 
 of its inhabitants. On farther inquiry, Pilate is informed 
 by the Jews that the prisoner is a Galilean, and knowing 
 that Herod Antipas, under whose jurisdiction he con- 
 sequently belonged, was just then at Jerusalem on 
 account of the feast, he sends them all there, glad to 
 get rid of this unwelcome business. 
 
 To anticipate the kind of reception with which Christ 
 was to meet there, it is sufficient to remember that this 
 was the same Herod who had married his own brother's 
 wife, and upon whom the faithful and solemn entreaties 
 and instructions of John the Baptist had been worse 
 than lost. Crime had seared his conscience, and 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDEMNATION. 125 
 
 dissipation and self-conceit iiad debased his heart. The 
 thoughtless sensualist, equally circumscribed in influ- 
 ence and intellect, was accustomed to feed deliciously 
 upon the gross flatteries of empty-headed courtiers, 
 and upon banquetting, revelry, and the mean and silly 
 tricks of travelling jugglers. He was now " exceed- 
 ingly glad " (Luke xxiii, 8) to seQ Jesus, and had been 
 long desirous to see him; and he hoped he would have 
 "seen some miracle done by him" to make him stare 
 or laugh. Hence he condescended to question the poor 
 prisoner "in many words;" while the Jews, on the 
 other hand, trembling for their perishing cause, poured 
 a stream of complaints and lies into his ear, about the 
 criminality of this his dangerous and aspiring subject. 
 And it is delightful to observe that our blessed Lord 
 did cast not so much as one pearl before that man, nor 
 open his mouth once to clear his character from 
 charges which carried their refutation with them. 
 "But he answered him nothing," says Luke. One 
 knave will easily find out another. Herod was per- 
 fectly prepared to appreciate the motives of the high 
 priests and Jews, and the weight of their testimony, of 
 which he never believed a word; but provoked and 
 offended by the becoming conduct of Christ, he begins 
 to revile him, in which he is duly assisted by his cour- 
 tiers, who of course admired everything he did and 
 said. (Luke xxiii.) They "set Christ at nought " and 
 arraying him gorgeously in a white robe, they sent him 
 and his disappointed prosecutors back to Pilate. "And 
 the same day Pilate and Herod were made friends 
 together ; for before they were at enmity between 
 themselves." (v. 12.) 
 
126 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 Ah! the matter fares miserably for the Jews. The 
 sun rises higher and higiier, the holy feast draws near, 
 two courts of justice (so called) have, on the whole, 
 pronounced the defendant innocent, and yet he must 
 be despatched soon; for if his numerous friends learn 
 that he is on trial, they may inquire into the matter, 
 and then the venerable Sanhedrim will appear to no 
 singular advantage. It is plain, they must prevail on 
 Pilate now to kill him, and succeed they must, or their 
 character and influence are at an end. 
 
 Determined to carry their purpose through, they 
 arrive again before the judgment hall of Pilate. But 
 Pilate is rather strengthened in his purpose not to yield, 
 and begins to plead the cause of innocence himself to 
 some extent. It was moreover about this time that his 
 wife sent unto him, communicating to him a dream 
 about which her own mind was much exercised, and 
 which had, according to her opinion, reference to the 
 present aifair, and contained a warning to Pilate not to 
 stain his conscience with the murder of this just person. 
 "Ye have brought this man unto me, as one that per- 
 verteth the people; and i)ehold I have examined him 
 before you, and have found no fault in this man, touch- 
 ing those things whereof ye accuse him: no, nor yet 
 Herod; for I sent you to iiim; and lo! nothing worthy 
 of death is done unto him. I will therefore chastise 
 him and release him. (For of necessity he must 
 release one unto them at the feast.) And they cried 
 out all at once, saying, away with this man and release 
 us Barabbas, who, Ibr a certain sedition made in the 
 city and for murder, was cast into prison. Pilate 
 therefore, still willing to release Jesus, spake again 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDEMNATION. 127 
 
 unto them in his behalf. But they cried, saying, Cru- 
 cify him! And he said unto them the third time. Why, 
 what evil hath he done .? I have found no cause of 
 death in him. I will therefore chastise him and let 
 him go. And they were instant with lovd voices requir- 
 ing that he might be crucified. And the voices of them 
 and of the chief priests prevailed," waxing stronger 
 and stronger. Then took Pilate Jesus and scourged 
 him, against his own better knowledge and conscience, 
 hoping by that affecting scene to touch the tiger-hearts 
 of the mob. And after having scourged him, the 
 soldiers placed a crown of thorns and put it on his 
 head, and they put a purple robe upon him, and said 
 tauntingly. Hail, King of the Jews! and they smote 
 him with their hands. Pilate therefore, hoping now to 
 effect his weak purpose, went forth again, and saith 
 unto them, Behold I bring him forth to you, that ye 
 may know that I find no fault in him. Then came 
 Jesus forth, (stripped of his garments, scourged and 
 bleeding) wearing the crown of thorns and the purple 
 robe. And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the man! 
 the poor sufferer, who has done no harm! Let it be 
 enough now of revenge and cruelty! But when the 
 chief priests and the officers saw him, they cried out — 
 horror strikes me as I rehearse it — "crucify him, 
 crucify him!" Pilate shrinks with terror from the 
 thought, — "Take ije him," he says, "and crucify him; 
 for I jind no fault in him.'' The Jews answered him, 
 "We have a law, and by our law he ought to die, 
 because he made himself the Son of God." Another 
 falsehood. They have no such law, and never did 
 have anything like it. They could not have had it. 
 
128 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 According to this law they would have been obliged to 
 crucify their own expected Messiah, who by the tenor 
 of the second Psalm was acknowledged by themselves 
 to be the Son of God. And ah! had they had such a 
 law, how carefully would they have preserved it to the 
 present day! Upon this, Pilate, terrified and amazed, 
 leads Christ once more into the judgment hall and asks 
 him, -'Whence art thou ?" but receives no answer. 
 The time of our Lord was now come. The last word 
 of self-defence was uttered. Then saith Pilate untp 
 him, " Speakest thou not unto me? Knowest thou not 
 that I have power to crucify thee and have power to 
 release thee ?" To which our Lord replies in sub- 
 stance. Thou hast no power over me except by a par- 
 ticular divine dispensation. Nor do I blame thee so 
 much; those who delivered me unto thee, they will 
 bear the chief curse. Overcome by this remark, $o 
 full of meaning, Pilate determines to make still farther 
 efforts to save him. -'But the Jews cried out, If thou 
 let this man go, thou art not Cesar's friend. Whosoever 
 makethhimself a king,speaketh against Cesar!" (v. 12.) 
 "When Pilate heard that saying, he brought Jesus 
 forth, and sat down in the judgment seat, in a place 
 that is called the Pavement." (v. 13.) Desirous and 
 decided now to make an end, but still anxious to s&ve 
 the sufferer, and showing that their last remark did not 
 affect him, he says, ''Behold your king!" But they 
 cried out, "Away with him, away with him I crucify 
 him!" Pilate saith unto them, shall 1 crucify your 
 kino".^ (appealing to their national pride.) The chief 
 priests answered, "We have no king but Cesar." 
 Then, "when Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND CONDEMNATION. 129 
 
 but that rather a tumult was made, he took water and 
 washed his hands before the multitude, saying, " I am 
 innocent of the blood of this just person; see ye to it! 
 Then answered all the people and said. His blood be 
 on us and on our children." (Matt, xxvii, 24, etc.) 
 "Then delivered he him unto them to be crucified." 
 The insults and abuses of the soldiers and others then 
 seem to have begun afresh with redoubled fury, (com- 
 pare Matthew xxvii, 27) and preparations for his exe- 
 cution were fast made. 
 
 Numerous reflections now press themselves. But 
 our time is elapsed. However, I will close with a few 
 hints to those who may wish to dwell upon this story 
 still more to-day. 
 
 1. It was not only a murder on the part of the Jews, 
 but it was a conscious and deliberate murder, and one 
 too which required a most surprising degree of deter- 
 mination and desperate perseverance. 
 
 2. Pilate presents us with a most instructive example 
 of the folly and wickedness of a time-serving spirit ; 
 though his fine sensibilities make him more an object 
 of sympathy and pity than of that abhorrence in which 
 he is generally held by good people. Herod deserves 
 no attention, and the lesson we can learn of him may 
 be learned of any one epicurian wretch of the most 
 common kind. 
 
 3. The character of our Lord was cleared to per- 
 fection by friends and foes ; his conduct exhibits the 
 ideal of suffering holiness beyond the stretch of human 
 thought and invention, and is a more powerful proof of 
 his being more than man, than the whole assemblage of 
 
 12 
 
130 MEDITATIOxVS. 
 
 his miracles are or could be. While he suffers, he is 
 the perfect conqueror of, and king over, all his accusers 
 and judges, whether Jews or Gentiles. 
 
 4. He is a golden mirror to us who are Christians. 
 This is the spirit for which we ought to ask, which we 
 ought to seek — nay, which we have in a small degree 
 indeed, but in a degree marked, perceptible and grow- 
 ing, if we are Christians in reality. 
 
 5. What he suffered, he suffered for us, and more 
 than that, he suffered it by us ; we were among the 
 Jews, the high-priests, the band ; we betrayed, caught, 
 denied, scourged, murdered him. But we hope, some 
 of us at least, that we have sincerely repented, and re- 
 ceived the pardon of our sins, and a new heart. May 
 this be so ! For if it should prove false, then shall we 
 go ere long to that place where those high-priests, 
 captains, Jews, Herod, Judas, Annas, Caiaphas, and 
 perhaps Pilate, have been near eighteen hundred years, 
 weeping and gnashing their teeth ; and will weep and 
 gnash there until their innocent victim shall cease to 
 sit ** on the right hand of power." 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 VI. 
 
 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 
 
 «* Behold your King! " — John xix, 14. 
 
 '* Go forth, O ye daughters of Zion, and behold king 
 Solomon with the crown wherewith his mother crowned 
 him in the day of his espousals and in the day of the 
 gladness of his heart." Thus you are addressed by 
 the sacred poet, who, when he wrote that "song of 
 songs," which [our adversaries being judges] is the 
 most exquisite ever written, depicted with colors and 
 images borrowed from conjugal love and tenderness, 
 those indissoluble and holy affections which unite 
 Christ and the church. Whether the passage quoted 
 has particular reference to the great marriage supper 
 of the Lamb, yet to come, when "the holy city, new 
 Jerusalem, shall come down from God out of Heaven 
 prepared as a bride adorned for her husband ; " or 
 whether its object is to lead the pious heart to a devout 
 
132 BIEDlTATiaNS. 
 
 consideration of Christ in the beauty of his sufferings,, 
 when he purchased with the ransom of his blood his 
 beloved church, that he might present her to himself a 
 glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any 
 such thing : this, and all like questions, a Christian 
 may safely leave to the critics, and, following the 
 drawings of a sanctified heart, make such a use of it 
 for himself as would seem best to assist him in devo- 
 tion and to benefit and warm his heart. 
 
 I have used it, to call your attention to the affecting 
 spectacle which the suffering Jesus presented when 
 Pilate led him forth, scourged, buffeted, spit upon, 
 crowned with thorns and with an old scarlet mantle 
 mockingly thrown upon him, vainly endeavoring to 
 call forth the national pride of an abject, enfuriated 
 and reprobate priesthood and mob. A few moments 
 previously, Pilate had made an attempt to excite their 
 commiseration by leading forth our Lord when he was 
 already in^bis affecting condition ; but he found the 
 tender mercies of the wicked cruel indeed. Then 
 followed his equally unsuccessful appeal to their pa-' 
 triotism ; and when this also failed, he delivered up 
 Jesus to be crucified. Like unto Pilate, but with dif- 
 ferent motives and different feelings I hope, and to a 
 different assembly, I lead him forth. And in doing so, 
 what fitter words could I have used, to awaken the 
 sensibilities of every pious heart, than the words of our 
 sacred poet : Go forth, O ye daughters of Zion, etc. 
 
 Few and plain shall be my words to-day, beloved 
 hearers. Learning is of all things the very last for 
 which I could now wish. There are neither hard 
 words, no hard things to be explained to-day. Nor 
 
BEHOLD YOUR Klx\G. 133 
 
 do I even wish for the glowing imagination or the peer- 
 ing intellect of great men, or higher spirits. No ! I 
 want the humble, penitent, believinsf, loving, grateful, 
 and devout heart ; 1 want the plain, unvarnished im- 
 pression of my subject, and then as much utterance 
 as the plain impression itself would suggest, so that 
 the fact may speak for itself. May I have every 
 needed assistance and gift in the performance of my 
 present solemn task. 
 
 Christ, as he was led forth by Pilate, shall be the 
 object of our prayerful attention at this time. To ob- 
 tain a more correct and complete impression of the 
 spectacle, we shall have to look at it from three differ- 
 ent points of view, as it were. Doing this, the sub- 
 ject will come before our minds under the following 
 three divisions : 
 
 I. The condemnation of Christ at the bar of Pilate, 
 and the sufferings he experienced there. 
 
 II. Their cause. 
 
 III. Their effect. 
 
 I. To attempt to make a correct and adequate im- 
 pression upon you, as to the feelings of Christ when 
 Pilate led him forth the last time, would indeed be a 
 vain effort. Whatsoever may be the nature of enjoy- 
 ment and suffering in other worlds, in this world it 
 holds true throughout, that they have very much of 
 the relative and comparative in them, i. e. here we 
 feel satisfied and happy, or displeased and unhappy in 
 our present condition, very much in comparison to 
 what we were in the habit of enjoying or sufiering 
 12* 
 
134 MEDITATIONS. •* 
 
 before ; and hence it comes to pass, in the experience 
 of every day, that the same combination of external 
 circumstances, which fills one with delight, leaves 
 another wholly unaffected, and presents a third one 
 with the very ideal, as he thinks, of wretchedness and 
 distress. A treatment which would elate the heart of 
 a vain and ignorant slave, creates no emotion in the 
 breast of a free citizen, and would deeply waund the 
 feelings of one who has, or thinks he has, a rightful 
 claim upon universal veneration and worship, and who 
 has been in the habit of enjoying them. 
 
 You readily apprehend what I am alluding to in 
 these remarks. So far as Christ was divine ; so far as 
 his consciousness extended back into times, or rather 
 into eternities, when he enjoyed the adoration and 
 the praises of a holy and grateful universe, and felt 
 himself absolutely unlimited and supreme throughout 
 his vast creation ; so far as he knew, by an experience 
 extending a whole eternity back, what it is to be 
 God ; — so far it would be madness for us to struggle 
 for a realizing sense of what he must have felt when 
 standing before the raging mob in that most melancholy 
 condition in which you know he then was. We can 
 only speak of him as though he had been a mere man, 
 and then remember that in view of his divine character 
 we are standing at the shores of an unexplored ocean, 
 of whose extent we have no conception. 
 
 In respect to his bodily frame, Christ must needs 
 have been much affected by that agitation of mind 
 which his approaching sufferings had occasioned him 
 for some time past, and which no doubt had often 
 robbed him of sleep, when all around him were 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 135- 
 
 sweetly resting and preparing for the duties of the 
 morrow. More still must he have been reduced by 
 the scene of Gethsemane, which, whatsoever particular 
 views may be cherished of it by different men, must 
 be granted by all to have been an awful and most un- 
 natural and overwhelming mental distress. In Geth- 
 semane, probably no more than five or ten minutes 
 after he rose from prayer, he was bound and dragged 
 back to Jerusalem, first to Annas's then to Caiaphas's 
 house, where he was questioned and vexed, standing 
 up all night, till about morning, when the examination 
 was closed, and the remainder of the time was spent 
 in buffeting, beating, and abusing him, till the hour to 
 apply to Pilate was come. Then he was thrust once 
 more through the streets, to Pilate, and from thence, 
 after considerable examination, to Herod. At Herod's 
 court he was again queried and mocked, and then hur- 
 ried back to lilate again. After some efforts to re- 
 lease Jesus, Pilate, seeing the fury of the multitude, 
 delivered him to the band of Roman soldiers, to be 
 scourged. This they did ; and being probably bribed 
 by the Jews, they added to the punishment ordered by 
 law their own newly-invented inhumanities, platting a 
 crown of thorns and pressing it upon his head, putting 
 an old purple robe upon him, smiting him with their 
 hands, and tauntingly saluting him as a King, And 
 you may imagine what that meant, to have a band of 
 rude soldiers round about him, who were paid for their 
 barbarities, and who wreaked their savage, spiteful 
 rage upon a poor Jew, as they thought him to be, and 
 upon whom they would have much less compassion 
 than upon some favored animal. 
 
136 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 But the chastisement inflicted by order is already 
 enough, in itself, to make one shudder. When a per- 
 son was scourged previously to crucifixion, he was 
 stripped of his garments, except something tied around 
 the loins. In this condition he was fastened to a post, 
 or pillar, and beaten. The instrument of torture was 
 a whip, with a large number of strings or thongs of 
 leather, interlaced with little hooks so as to imme- 
 diately penetrate the flesh and lay open every vessel 
 which they touched. The Romans used to call it 
 " horibile flagellum," the horrible whip, and it was 
 applied only to slaves. Such was the severity of this 
 flagellation, that numbers of the stoutest and, as to 
 bodily constitution, most hardened malefactors expired 
 under it. It may assist us in getting an adequate idea 
 of the barbarity of this punishment, when we remember 
 that not even the well-known inhuman Russian knout is 
 fatal, unless the blows are purposely directed to the 
 lungs, while the Roman whip carried death with it in 
 not a few instances in its ordinary application. 
 
 1 should doubtless be treading the footsteps of Pilate, 
 if I endeavored to work upon your feelings by exag- 
 gerating the suff'erings of Jesus in this instance, and 
 by representing the soldiers as making peculiar efforts 
 to render them severe, while I had no reason or ground 
 so to do. But I can leave it with any one of you to 
 say whether those who invented even new tortures and 
 exulted in the agonies of their victim, to whom they 
 showed not a spark of pity, — whether these men, I 
 say, were at all likely to treat him with lenity, or to 
 inflict upon him an}'thing less than the utmost implied 
 in the unrighteous charge of Pilate. Ah ! there is not 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. l57 
 
 a shadow of ground for such a supposition ; and we 
 have to admit as mere critics the high probability that 
 our Lord experienced a flagellation equal to anything 
 ever executed of this kind. Indeed, this is even im- 
 plied in Pilate's own words, when he brought him out 
 the people the first time after the execution of his cruel 
 order, " Behold the man." Behold the extraordinary, 
 heart-dissolving sight, he wanted to say. Is he not 
 scourged and lacerated enough now to satisfy your 
 rage and your envy ? Let the sight of your eyes 
 affect your hearts, and let me now release him ! How 
 could Pilate have said so, if Christ had not exhibited 
 a more pitiful spectacle than that witnessed at other 
 times in similar instances. Why, the people could 
 have answered him. Behold the man ! — what is there 
 to behold ? — we have seen a hundred culprits scourged 
 like him, and more too ; ihat is nothing worth behold- 
 ing yet ! But they say no such thing. They admit the 
 spectacle to be extraordinary, and merely keep roaring 
 out, "Crucify him ! crucify him !" And here let me 
 just notice, in passing, the doubt entertained and re- 
 peated over and over again by infidels, respecting the 
 reality of Christ's death upon the cross. Even very 
 lately it has been maintained that it was to the highest 
 degree improbable that he really died, but that he to 
 all appearance merely fell into a swoon and was after- 
 wards awaked again by the efforts of his friends, etc. 
 How could he die in six hours, it is said, when others 
 lived two, three, and even six and seven days upon the 
 cross, and either died of hunger, or were torn by wild 
 beasts ? But that many others did not even survive 
 
138 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 the flagellation, or if they did, were treated with some 
 degree of lenity, came to the punishment with robust 
 constitutions and were weakened by no previous ag- 
 onizing struggles, is taken into no account by these 
 men. To me it is a wonder that he did not expire 
 under the hand of the soldiers ; that he could stand 
 yet upon his feet after the scourging ; that he could 
 walk out of the city ; that he could for some time even 
 bear his own cross ; that he could mount up the hill of 
 Golgotha, and at last endure full six hours upon the 
 cross, conversing and praying to the end. To me it is 
 in the highest degree probable that something more 
 than the strength of his human frame was necessary to 
 carry him through all these horrors ; yes, something 
 more. He could not be permitted to die in Gethsem- 
 ane, — he could not, for the same reason, die in Pi- 
 late's hall ; he must die on the cross, for (as I have 
 already remarked formerly) it is written ** cursed is 
 every one that continueth not in all things which are 
 written in the book of the law to do them;" and again 
 it is written, *' cursed is every one that hangeth on a 
 tree." And it was only when that purpose was accom- 
 plished and his last words were uttered, that the sus- 
 taining power withdrew, his frame .yielded to the accu- 
 mulated causes of dissolution, and he yielded up his 
 spirit. 
 
 When, therefore, Christ was led forth by Pilate, he 
 certainly presented a spectacle of suffering uncommon 
 even in those days. His shoulders, his back, half his 
 arms, and his breast were lacerated by the whip, and 
 probably in many places to the very bones ; his coun- 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 139 
 
 tenance was disfigured and swolen by the violent blows 
 of the soldiers, which he had just received in addition 
 to those already inflicted upon him by the Jews the 
 night previous ; to his wounded left shoulder and 
 breast and half his back was cleaving an old military 
 cloak of purple, which was thrown upon him and 
 hooked, as the fashion then was, upon the right shoul- 
 der ; in his hand he had a reed, mockingly alluding to 
 the staves which the commanders of Roman armies and 
 kings used to hold in their hands ; and upon his head 
 was fastened by repeated blows (compare Matthew 
 xxvii, 30) a wreath of thorns representing either a 
 royal diadem, or perhaps the laurel wreath of a con- 
 queror. And worthy of notice is the remark of a late 
 and able commentator, that in reference to the crown 
 of thorns, some abatement should be made ; because, 
 had it been of pure thorns, he might have been mor- 
 tally wounded by it, or at least must needs have fainted 
 away under the torment. But where do you read of 
 that abatement, in scripture ? And to all this you will 
 of course add the nudity and trembling of his limbs, 
 the paleness of his body, the submissive meekness of 
 his countenance, the anxious bosom heaving still with 
 the apprehension of tortures to come ; the agitation of 
 his lungs, and the feverish excitement of his whole 
 system, occasioned by the cruel flagellation. 
 
 Thus Pilate led him forth to the Jews. Thus I lead 
 him forth to you ; and I have no hesitation, in the 
 words of the Roman governor, though in a far different 
 sense, to exclaim, 'Behold your King.' To the world, 
 I know he has no form nor comeliness in this sad pre- 
 
140 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 dicament ; but to souls convinced of sin, and to the 
 true believer, it is just so that he is the Chief among 
 ten thousand and the One altogether lovely. O yes, 
 the more abused and dishonored for our sakes, the 
 more unlovely to the world, the more a man of sorrows, 
 the more bruised, stricken, smitten of God and afflicted, 
 the more beautiful, the more lovely, the more admira- 
 ble he is to us. Know it, proud and haughty world, 
 we are not ashamed of him so. No ! And O ! may he 
 never be ashamed of us ! It is in the beauty of his 
 sufferings that he is the object of our supreme affection. 
 Thus he drew us in the day of his power, and we ran 
 after him. It is thus that we love him and seek him 
 on our beds in the night-season. And though we may 
 often well say, "The watchmen that went about the 
 city found me ; they smote me ; they wounded me; the 
 keepers of the walls took away my vail from me ;" yet 
 we seek him still. And though we love him but little, 
 yet, while we have a spark of faith and love in our 
 hearts, we cease not to cry, "I charge you, O daughters 
 of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him 
 that I am sick of love." And if we have now, and 
 shall hereafter have any interest in him, it is just so 
 that he is our delight in life, and will be our consola- 
 tion in death, and our eternal song in Heaven. Thus 
 he is our King forevermore. Yes, our King ! For 
 while we see him in the very gulf of abject sufferings 
 and distress, the eye of our faith can well discern the 
 moral, heavenly beauty and perfection of the unique 
 sight ; our commiseration is quickly absorbed by admi- 
 ration and humble worship ; and our tears of sorrow 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 141 
 
 and pity are quickly dried up by the fire of love and 
 joy; and in a little while we can only weep the sweet 
 tear of penitent affection and tender gratitude. True, 
 we see a sufferer before us, bruised, abused, mocked, 
 despised and condemned to death : but we see an 
 unconvicted, innocent sufferer, a holy sufferer, one 
 who suffers freely and out of love to his enemies, a 
 divine sufferer. Yes, he is our King, he is our King. 
 Know it, ye heavens above, and rejoice with us. He 
 is our King! Know it, thou distracted world, and 
 wonder, gainsay and perish! He is our King! Know 
 it hell beneath, and tremble to the very centre! He is 
 our King for evermore! 
 
 H. Thus far we have looked at the scene from a 
 distance. We have as it were occupied an honorable 
 place in the windows or gallery of some neighboring 
 house, and the mad crowd before Pilate's door has 
 been raving beneath our feet. But we must descend 
 now, unexpected as it may be to you, my hearers, and 
 humbling and mortifying as it may be to us all, I must 
 lead you down and with you take a place among the 
 Jews in the street below, and among the heathen 
 soldiers in the judgment hall. For we now inquire, 
 what was the cause of our Lord's condemnation, flag- 
 ellation and abuse, and who were the true agents in 
 them .'' 
 
 Here I answer without hesitation, Our siiis tvcre the 
 cause — ive were the agents. Few words will be needed 
 to establish that. An appeal to the word of God and 
 to your own consciences will suffice, if anything can 
 convince you. 
 13 
 
14;2 MEDITAtlONS. 
 
 Thus much is plain, that he was not condemned, 
 scourged, and mocked because he had no means of 
 resistance. He had them abundantly. As the Jews 
 and their assistants did not seize and bind him and 
 drag him away from Gethsemane because they were 
 many and stout, and he alone and weak, — and as the 
 Sanhedrim did not wrong and abuse him because they 
 were the very strength of the nation at that time; so 
 Pilate did not condemn him and deliver him up by the 
 power and authority of his office^ nor did the soldiers 
 tie him to the pillar and subject him to the horrible 
 whip because they had helmets on their head and 
 shields and swords and spears about them, or because 
 they were a band of muscular men, used to the battle. 
 All this was not sufficient, nor could it have been made 
 so by any multiplication whatsoever, to account for the 
 event before us. No! as twelve legions of angels, and 
 indeed all the hosts of Heaven were at the command 
 of Christ in Gethsemane, so they were when he stood 
 before Pilate; so they were when he writhed under the 
 hands of his torturers in the judgment hall. But even 
 that help he did not need. One word from his lips did 
 prostrate the whole band who came to seize him in 
 the garden; another word would have laid all his 
 enemies in and about the pretorium into the dust. He 
 said to Pilate openly, Thou hast no power over me at 
 all in the common course of things, but by a particular 
 divine dispensation; and even Pilate felt the propriety 
 of the remark. He was then what he always had 
 been and always will be. He who overthrew heavenly 
 principalities and consigned them to eternal chains of 
 darkness, could have made both Pilate and Tiberius 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 143 
 
 crouch before his feet. He who could hurl stars and 
 worlds before his face as chalf, could have scattered 
 that handful of his clamorous foes with a nod. It was, 
 then, not the power of Pilate, which commanded 
 Christ, nor did the mere hands and fists of the Jews 
 and the soldiers reduce him to that condition, in which 
 we find him to-day. The clamor of the Jews did not 
 bring about his condemnation for being so overwhelming 
 and so pertinacious. What, then, did it? you ask. If 
 they were not the proper agents in the matter, what 
 is the cause? who are the agents? where are they? I 
 answer with the prophet, ".He was wounded for our 
 transgressions, — ^^^he was bruised for our iniquities; 
 the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with 
 his gripes we are healed," (Isaiah liii, 5,) Here is 
 the mystery unravfelled; here is the cause, here are 
 the agents. Our sins did it, that is to say, ive did it. 
 We tormented and abused and crucified him. Like 
 a lamb he entered in among us, a herd of grievous, 
 starving wolves. *^ Here am I (he cried) take me, 
 tear me to pieces, eat my fleshy, suck my blood, if it 
 can do you any good." We did tear him to pieceg. 
 And, blessed be God forever, his flesh does do us 
 good; for it does satisfy our raging hunger; it is 
 according to his own words, that bread which came 
 down from heaven and of which, if any man eat, he 
 shall live forever. His blood! O yes, it does us good, 
 for it " cleanseth from all sins." 
 
 My friends, I have led you down, and have put you 
 among the raving Jews; and now I ask you, is it not 
 your appropriate place? Do you deserve a better one? 
 I do not. It is but too true, you do not. We are no 
 
144 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 better than the adversaries and tormentors of Christ 
 in our scene. When we were groveling in that com- 
 mon, low, stupid impenitence which is the choice and 
 condemnation of the mass of men, then did we stand 
 among the satellites of the priests and the elders, and 
 cried, Crucify, crucify him! When we rose a little 
 higher to polished and popular religious habits, and 
 put on the beautiful, embroidered garment of self- 
 righteousness, or the toga of a vain philosophy, when 
 we sought to make good works, or some system of our 
 own framing upset and supplant the doctrine of the 
 cross, then did we sit in Caiaphas's house, worthy 
 members of the Jewish Sanhedrim, and seeking false 
 witnesses against Christ, but finding none. When we 
 judged and condemned his people because they were 
 imperfect, or when we conformed to the world, know- 
 ingly, and against our conscience, then did we deny 
 him with Peter and condemn him with Pilate. Our 
 avarice often sold him for less than thirty pieces of 
 silver; our desire to break away from every restraint 
 of religion and of divine laws bound his hands and 
 tied him to the dreadful pillar in the judgment hall; 
 our early youthful vanity stripped him of his simple 
 and necessary garments; our pride, our aspiration to 
 worldly greatness threw the purple robe over his 
 shoulders and crowned him with thorns; our epicurian 
 desires for everything which struck and allured our 
 senses and our wickedness in its ten thousand names 
 and forms laid the horrible whip over his tender body 
 and inflicted his numberless wounds upon him. We 
 did it — we did it; and well might our souls melt with 
 sorrow and our eyes dissolve in tears. The man who 
 
BfiHOLD YOUR KING. 145 
 
 can look at this picture without a tear, has a heart of 
 stone. 
 
 And now, my friends, I ask you, after you have 
 done all this to your innocent Saviour, will you do so 
 still? Will you still keep roaring out ' Crucify him! ' 
 Will you still betray, sell, deny, condemn, and bind 
 him? Will you still buffet, and scourge him, and mock 
 him? If so, then you are still among the Jews, you 
 are one of the high-priests and elders; you sit down 
 with the Sanhedrim, and with Pilate upon the judgment 
 seat; you are one of the rude and barbarous band of 
 soldiers; and if you do not follow Judas in his death, 
 you will certainly follow him in his doom, and take 
 ^•our place for a long eternity with all the enemies of 
 Christ. 
 
 III. I now proceed to invite all those who have 
 forsaken, or are willing immediately to forsake the 
 ranks of the enemies of Christ, to the consideration of 
 our third topic. 
 
 Here we shall have to change our place once more. 
 And it will perhaps be again quite unexpected to some 
 of you, if I assign you not a more honorable place 
 than that which you now so gladly leave, but a much 
 less honorable one. Yes, the place we now take is 
 much more mortifying, humbling and despised than 
 the one we just occupied; but it is also much safer ; 
 and I think after a little while you will love to be there. 
 
 We now gather round about Barabbas, "who, for 
 a certain sedition made in the city and for murder^ 
 was cast into prison." (Luke xxiii, 19.) 
 
 We need not blush to get into his company; before 
 13* 
 
146 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 the bar of God, we are already in it. He was a rebel 
 against lawful civil authority; he was a murderer; he 
 was caught and imprisoned, and awaited his sentence 
 of death. If you take this definition of his character, 
 life and condition, and removing it from its political 
 ground to the one of Jehovah's universal theocracy; if 
 you put God for Tiberius, the law of heaven and of all 
 the universe for the Roman law; if you put the Son of 
 God and your own and a thousand other souls for a 
 simple man murdered, and for every transitory and 
 finite relation, motive and consequence in Barabbas's 
 case, its corresponding, eternal, and spiritual reality, — 
 then, what more faithful definition of our character and 
 our lives as sinners, and of our situation as prisoners 
 for the great day of account, can you desire, than that 
 given hy Luke to Barabbas.'* We have rebelled 
 against God, and broken his holy law; we have slain 
 our own souls, and have enticed others and assisted 
 them to do the same to themselves; we have crucified 
 the Son of God; v/e are seized and shut up in the hand 
 of Omnipotence, and the dread day of account draws 
 near. Before the bar of Pilate, indeed, we are not like 
 Barabbas : before the bar of God we are like him. 
 
 It is not easy to realize the emotions of Barabbas as 
 he stood before Pilate's house, bound and ready to be 
 condemned to crucifixion. What fluctuations of hope 
 and fear, of joy and misgiving must have agitated his 
 breast while the Jews strove for his release on the 
 one hand and Pilate employed every means of per- 
 suasion on the other to bring him into ruin. One hour 
 after another passed away; neither party seemed to 
 yield; and even when he saw the young Rabbi so 
 
SEHOLD YOUR KING. 147 
 
 severely scourged, Pilate's desire to save that man 
 was not at all abated, and the avenging sword of 
 justice remained still hanging over his own defenceless 
 head. At last the crowd prevailed; Pilate, wearied 
 and worn out, condemned the innocent; and he, the 
 murderer, was dismissed unpunished. 
 
 Here the feelings of the upright man may be power- 
 fully roused, and the most perfect abhorrence at the 
 unjust proceedings of this arbitrary bar of so called 
 justice may fill his bosom. But the eye of faith doeth 
 not stop at the bar of Pilate. - Back it wings its way, on 
 the pinions of revelation, to that distant but momentous 
 hour when the same cause was agitated in the court of 
 Heaven, though plead by very different pleaders; and 
 was decided by the judge of all in the same manner, 
 though from motives as far above Pilate's as the 
 heavens are high above the earth, Pilate's court and 
 sentence are mere consequences of that, mere shadows 
 of it thrown upon the pages of the history of our globe 
 by a thousand refractions, in the fullness of time. You 
 all remember the passage in the revelation of St. John, 
 which speaks of the Lamb of God as slain " from the 
 foundation of the world." This points to a judicial 
 transaction in Heaven which had reference to the 
 redemption of our race. We know the issue; and of 
 course we know, so far at least, also the decisions of 
 that holy council. 
 
 A world had rebelled, and was fallen. The inviola- 
 ble law was broken, and the world rebellious, being 
 inhabited by immortal beings, the penalty of endless 
 ruin must be exacted; for, if not endless, then the time 
 of punishment, however long, must needs dwindle into a 
 
148 MEbiTATibNs. 
 
 mere nothing in comparison to an eternity of bliss that 
 would follow it, and therefore could subserve no 
 purpose in deterring other unstable minds from trans* 
 gressing the law still farther; other fequally momentous 
 considerations not to mention. Countless immortal 
 minds and moral agents apprised of the rebellion must 
 have been in awful suspense, whether the pledge of 
 the supreme Lawgiver would now be redeemed, and 
 the law magnified in the eternal destruction of a fallen 
 world ; or whether indefinite mercy would be extended 
 to them, the law itself thus virtually abrogated, and 
 the most alarmins and irrevocable doubt and darkness 
 thrown over the moral character of God, and the 
 stability of his government, the character of C-od, the 
 only ground of hope, the only warrant for their holy 
 joys through all eternity to come. Here was a dreadful 
 alternative; a world to be devoured by eternal fire, 
 or the peace of every holy being taken away. The 
 latter being wholly inadmissible, the ruin of our guilty 
 world seemed unavoidable. No created arm could 
 save, but the uncreated arm could. Every sensitive 
 being, ss such, has private interests which can be 
 sacrified not only with no impeachment to the moral 
 character of the agent, but to its great honor and 
 credit. Scripture and reason reveal God as a sensitive 
 being. The Son of the Father could be given up, and 
 give up himself; the Word could become flesh, and 
 make a free, personal atonement for sinners. He was 
 willing. Then stood this fallen world, the rebel, the 
 murderer, we among the rest, on one side, he on the 
 other. Justice plead for him, mercy for us. Mercy 
 rejoiced against judgment. The great fact of Redemp- 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 149 
 
 tion proves it, and shows the result and consequences 
 of the holy session. Christ became amenable to the 
 broken law ; the rebellious world was cleared. Hitherto 
 the holy zealous God, the just one who could not and 
 would not clear the guilty, had been her offended 
 Sovereign, — now Christ, the Saviour, the friend of 
 sinners, the prince of peace, became her king exclusive, 
 until that time when the whole purpose of his incar- 
 nation shall be accomplished, and this world return to 
 her primeval relation in the moral universe, not with- 
 out an eternal rememberance and worship of their 
 Saviour from ruin. (Compare 1 Corinthians xv, 24. &c. 
 and Revelation v, 12, 13.) Christ thus became the 
 dispenser of every mercy, and the disposer of every 
 event and change in the ancient dispensation; and so 
 he is now. He was the spiritual Rock that followed 
 Israel in the wilderness — (1 Corinthians x, 4); in him 
 did the patriarchs and prophets believe and hope; 
 his spirit they had, his servants they were. Methinks 
 I see him led forth from the court of Heaven after that 
 solemn transaction; and while he is presented to a 
 trembling world of perishing sinners who had forfeited 
 their blessed relation to a holy and just God, I hear 
 the joyful proclamation made by angel choirs accom- 
 panied by the harpers of Heaven harping with their 
 harps, Behold your King, Behold your King, ye 
 trembling sinners. Take fresh courage and strike up 
 a joyful hymn of praise! The great case is decided; 
 mercy has triumphed; the sentence is passed, recorded 
 and sealed with the seal of eternity. Your sins are 
 his; his righteousness is yours; and let every perishing 
 sinner now gather up close to him who can and will 
 gave his soul from death, 
 
150 MEBiTATIONS. 
 
 My soul stands erect with joy; my steadfast eye 
 looks down into the prison of the archfiend, and my 
 unfaltering voice demands, " Who shall lay anything 
 to the charge of God's elect?" I glance over the 
 plains of Heaven, — nor do I shrink as my eye 
 approaches the cloud, and the darkness which hides 
 from created eyes the consuming brightness of that 
 inaccessible light in which God himself dwelleth, — and 
 I ask, with a boldness tempered with humility and awe, 
 but not with fear, "Who is he that condemneth? " — 
 But I look also down to earth, and as I behold the bar 
 of Pilate again, and behold the meek, lowly, innocent, 
 the perfect, the holy, divine, maltreated Jesus, — the 
 very instant melts both heart and eye, and that all 
 conquering love which triumphed in Heaven, triumphs 
 also in the sinful breast, and forth bursts the invol- 
 untary exclamation, " Who- shall separate me from the 
 love of Christ ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or 
 persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or 
 sword ? Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor 
 principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor 
 things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other 
 creature shall be able to separate us from the love of 
 God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." 
 
 I lead him forth once more — " Behold your King." 
 Drink in, in draughts long and full, the precious 
 impression of the scene. Every feature is a fountain 
 of spiritual joys, and a storehouse of omnipotent 
 motives to a holy life. Mark the paleness of his 
 countenance, the sadness of his downcast eye, the 
 sweat of anguish mingled with blood on his brow, 
 find flowing down his brejist and shoulders and arms; 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 151 
 
 then turn to the fashionable vanities of this world, and 
 they will appear as they ought, — "base as the dirt 
 beneath your feet," Look at the nudity of his insulted 
 body, and see then how accumulated riches will 
 appear ! Bring hither all the pomp and dress, the 
 crowns, purples and scepters of earth, put them beside 
 his crown of thorns, his ragged purple robe, and his 
 reed, and say if you could choose them, could you 
 parade in them ? Witness the meekness of his conduct, 
 the silence of his lips while thousands cry out, crucify 
 him! crucify him! and then dare repine at sufterings for 
 his name's sake, and retort injuries to your persecutors! 
 In one word, look at Him, and then attempt it, and 
 follow the world again if you can. I know you can- 
 not — you will not. He who can and will do this is a 
 demon — not a man; and the sovereign remedy of sal- 
 vation having failed to meet his case, he will go to the 
 fire prepared for the devil and his angels. 
 
 " Behold your king!" Now you hear it from lips of 
 dust, and you rejoice, brethren. You rejoice to behold 
 him, the despised and rejected, crowned with thorns, 
 beaten, bruised, clothed in rags of mockery, and near 
 to an ignominious death. He is your king, the con- 
 demned at Pilate's bar. But as you stand at Pilate's 
 bar around him whom your soul loveth, look up! Do 
 you see the blue sky over you? From thence he will 
 come ere long and will not tarry. Then will he wear 
 a crown, not of thorns, but of thousand thousand suns. 
 Then his imperial garment, not a robe of purple dust, 
 but one inwoven with light, will blaze like an ocean of 
 melted diamond, and seraphs will hide their faces. 
 Then, not a reed, but the omnipotent sceptre of the 
 
152 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 universe will grace his pierced hand. He will not 
 stand then to be judged of ungratefnl worms, but he 
 will sit to judge the world in righteousness. No 
 clamorous Jews, no profane heathens will crowd his 
 sacred person; but submissive angels without number 
 will surround him in respectful distance, to fly to the 
 execution of his nod. His lips will not be silent, but 
 will speak, in the harmonious accents of Heaven, eternal 
 peace to the righteous, and shake earth and hell with 
 the thunder of his just irrevocable sentence. The new 
 heavens will proclaim it with joy, He is our king! the 
 new earth will echo back the joyful sentence; and as 
 the swelling sound rolls on and breaks at last upon the 
 distant gates of hell, Omnipotence will extort from its 
 reprobated inmates the confession. He whom we 
 crowned with thorns, mocked, buffetted, and crucified, 
 rules the universe with the sceptre of his love, or 
 the iron rod of his insufferable indignation. Every 
 knee shall bow unto him, and every tongue confess him 
 Lord. 
 
 Take it with you, brethren and sisters, the dear 
 word — "Behold your King!" Behold him by faith, 
 while you sojourn here below — and soon, soon you 
 shall see him as he is. The unconverted of my hearers 
 may retire at this time with the solemn admonition of 
 the Psalmist; kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye 
 perish from the way when his wrath is kindled but a 
 little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in him! 
 Amen. 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 
 
 MATTHEW XXVir, 32—56. 
 
 And as they came out, they found a man of Cyrene, Simon by name ; him they 
 compelled to bear his cross. And when they were come unto a place called Gol- 
 gotha, that is to say, A place of a skull, they gave him vinegar to drink, mingled 
 with gall : and when he had tasted thereof, he would not drink. And they cru- 
 cified him, and parted his garments, casting lots, that it might ho fulfilled which 
 was spoken by the prophet, They parted my garments among them, and upon my 
 vesture did they cast lots. And sitting down, they watched iiim there : and set 
 up over his head his accusation, written, THIS IS JESUS THE KING OP 
 THE JEWS. Then were there two thieves crucified with him; one on the 
 right hand, anJ another on the left. And they that passed by reviled him, 
 wagging their heads, and saying, Thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest 
 it in three days, save thyself. If thou be the Son of God, come down from the 
 cross. Likewise also the chief priests, mocking him, with thescril)e3 and elders, 
 said, He saved others, himself he cannot save. If he be the King of Israel, let 
 him now come down from the cross, and we will believe him. He trusted in 
 God, let him deliver him~now, if he will have him ; for he said, I am the Son of 
 God. The thieves also, which were crucified with him, cast the same in hia 
 teeth. Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land unto the 
 ninth hour. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, 
 Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani .'' that is to say. My God, my God, why hast thou 
 forsaken me .'' Some of them that stood there, v/Iien they heard that, said, This 
 maa calleth fur Elias. And straightway one of them ran^ and took a sponge, 
 
 14 
 
154 Meditations. 
 
 and filled it with vinegar, and put it on a reed, and gave bim to drink. The 
 rest said, Let be ; let us see whether Ellas will come to save him. Jesus, when 
 he bad cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost. And behold, the vail 
 of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom ; and the earth did 
 quake, and the rocks rent ; and the graves were opened ; and many bodies of 
 saints which slept arose and came out of the graves after his resurrection, and 
 went into the holy city and appeared unto many. Now when the centurian, and 
 they that were with him watching Jesus, saw the earthquake, and those things 
 that were done, they feared greatly, saying, Truly this was the Son of God. And 
 many women were there beholding afiir off, which followed Jesus from Galilee, 
 ministering unto him ; atnong which was Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother 
 of James and Joses, and the mother of Zebedee's children. 
 
 (Compare Mark xv. 21 — 41 ; Luke xxiii, 2G — 49 j John xix. 17 — 37.) 
 
 If we were called upon to be present at the death- 
 bed of one of our most endeared friends — perhaps 
 that of a tender-hearted and faithful father, or of a 
 pious, praying mother, or of a dear, well-tried partner, 
 or of a godly brother or sister, or a beloved child, — 
 certainly we should prepare ourselves to attend the 
 solemn and affecting scene with the most collected and 
 serious frame of mind. At the sufferings and the 
 struggles of the beloved object, the most tender 
 emotions would agitate our breast. Our bosoms would 
 heave with his bosom and our eye would melt with 
 every painful motion of his countenance. We should 
 suffer, we should agonize, we should die, as it were, 
 ■with him. At the near and awful view of eternity and 
 eternal things, the oblivion of earth and of every 
 perishable object would, like an impenetrable curtain, 
 draw itself around us and the couch of our departing 
 friend, and for one hour at least, — an hour of deep 
 interest and of incalculable bearings upon our own 
 approaching death and future state — it would wipe 
 out the usurpated importance of sublunary things; and 
 we should feel, perhaps for the first time, that there is 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 155 
 
 but a step between us and between death, the grave, 
 judgment and Heaven, or hell, and — what throws a 
 mountain-weight of importance into the scale of all 
 this — that ETERNITY which will then seal our state, and 
 put a period to time, probation, and change forever. 
 
 But what if the dying friend of our heart had been 
 brought upon the bed of anguish and death for our 
 sakes ? What if he had saved us from drowning by 
 throwing himself after us into the deep — had seized 
 upon us with the determination not to let us go while life 
 and strength remained in him — was hastening into the 
 grave by the consequences of over exertion, and wished 
 now to see us once more, and rejoicing that we are but 
 saved, desired to bid us the last farewell? What if he 
 had rescued us from the swords or guns of our enemies 
 that were stronger than we, and was now dying with the 
 deep and remediless wounds which he then received .'' 
 Or if he had dashed through the flames of our dwelling to 
 pluck us from the bed of languishing, and to carry us out 
 into a place of safety and comfort, and we, recovered 
 and in health, were now called upon to listen to his 
 dying groans? What a torrent of emotion would rush 
 upon us! Feelings of obligation and a sense of grati- 
 tude due to him, almost insufferable, would overwhelm 
 us; sympathies, tender as the softest chord of a mother's 
 bosom, would thrill through every nerve of our frame; 
 and the ardent wish, now to die for him, would be but 
 the voice of fallen nature. All this, and infinitely 
 more, comes before us to-day, my friends. Our friend 
 dieth — our best friend in Heaven and on earth; our 
 brother dieth — our beloved, our faithful brother; our 
 Lord, the Saviour of our perishing souls, our eternal 
 
156 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 King, draws near the fatal hour. Sorrows gather 
 around him like the foaming waves of the ocean; and 
 death, in its most appalling form, death, in its royal 
 pomp of terror, death, with its most chosen weapons 
 of torture, has marched forth, stands in battle array 
 about him, and has levelled the whole artillery of hell 
 at his broken heart. From Heaven he came down, he 
 dashed in among the powers of darkness and into the 
 jaws of death and hell, to rescue us from thence; and 
 he did it. But not without the mortal wound predicted 
 by the word of prophecy. He dies: he dies for us: 
 he dies that we might live; and he calls us to-day to 
 gather around his dying bed. His dying bed? O, that 
 it was a bed! Alas! it is his dying cross — a rough 
 block, to which he is nailed in the most painful position; 
 not a soft pillow on which he rests, — it is the shameful, 
 painful, accursed tree. 
 
 Let us draw near, then, with that solemnity of mind 
 befitting the scene of our consideration, and we shall 
 not draw near in vain. Sweet consolations and 
 comforts, precious above gold and pearls, will flow 
 from his wounded side; and the impressions which the 
 beauty of his sufferings and death will then make upon 
 us, will be such as Heaven and eternity will only 
 deepen and purify — but never, never efface. 
 
 We shall have time merely to pass over the account 
 of our Lord's crucifixion, without any farther subdi- 
 vision; and all that I shall endeavor to do, will be to 
 add such remarks to the passages of Scripture which 
 will need to be quoted as will give us the shortest 
 possible impression of the event which we are capable 
 of receiving. 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 157 
 
 The scene of our present text was preceded by the 
 capture of Christ, his arraignment before Pilate, and 
 his condemnation and flajjellation. The sentence of 
 his death was no sooner pronounced, when, after a 
 short repetition of the insults already offered to him 
 previous to his condemnation, he was hurried to the 
 place o-f execution. This was the usual practice; and 
 in this case it became the more necessary, since the 
 great feast of the passover was close at hand. 
 
 Jt would be a vain endeavor to trace the way by 
 which Christ went out of the city; since we are utterly 
 unable to tell where the house of Pilate stood. Nay, 
 not even of the hill of Golgotha has there remained a 
 trace after the destruction of the city. For the hill 
 now exhibited under that name is far from beino- the 
 
 o 
 
 one; and the awe with which thousands approach that 
 spot, and the idolatry which some practice there, are 
 equally without the shadow of a foundation. 
 
 "And he, bearing his cross, went forth;" so John. 
 This was the custom of the time, and a part of the 
 punishment. It is probable that a quantity of crosses 
 were always kept on hand by Pilate, lying in his yard 
 or standing in the judgment hall, and that our Lord 
 took up the one designed for him on that spot. " And 
 there were also two other malefactors led with him to 
 be put to death:" Luke xxiii, 32. 
 
 A cross was a block of wood, of considerable thick- 
 ness, and sufficiently high to be driven at least two 
 feet into the ground, and then still to stand out far 
 enough to raise the individual fastened upon it about 
 three feet above the surface of the earth. Adding to 
 
 this, the usual length of a man, nine or ten feet of height 
 ]4# 
 
158 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 must be allowed to a cross. To this block, near the 
 upper end, was fastened a cross piece of five or six 
 feet in length, (the arms and the breast of a man being 
 equal to his height;) and thus the whole of a cross 
 would amount to a beam of timber from fifteen to six- 
 teen feet in length. 
 
 No wonder, then, that our Lord, after the cruel 
 treatment he had experienced since the preceding 
 night and especially after his horrid flagellation and 
 the serious loss of blood occasioned by it, was unable 
 to bear upon his lacerated shoulders so considerable a 
 weight as his cross must hav^e been. Tradition would 
 make us believe that he fell three times under his 
 burden. That he did fall once, at least, is in the 
 highest degree probable, from the nature of the case, 
 even if the tradition alluded to deserves no attention. 
 At all events, the aid which his executioners allowed 
 him, when they compelled Simon of Cyrene, probably 
 a believer, to bear, or to help him bear, his cross, 
 evidently shows that he was unable to proceed unas- 
 sisted with the expedition they desired; for pity, we 
 have already seen, is not what we can reasonably 
 expect to have led them to this measure. Rather shall 
 we have to suppose that every severity was previously 
 exercised by them, by way of scolding, pushing and 
 striking, to make him perform the task unassisted, and 
 they yielded only to absolute necessity. 
 
 Notwithstanding the early hour and the approaching 
 feast, Luke informs us "there followed him a great 
 company of people, and of women, which latter also 
 bewailed and lamented him:" — Luke xxv, 27 — 31, 
 Many of the most intimate friends of our Lord must 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 159 
 
 have been present at Jerusalem on account of the 
 passover. Many of the pious women, too, who had 
 ministered unto him of their substance, must have 
 been there. Some of them, indeed, we shall meet 
 hereafter. When the affrighted disciples dispersed, 
 the night previous, we must, of course, suppose that, 
 having no homes of their own at Jerusalem, they scat- 
 tered abroad, and hid themselves wherever they knew 
 a disciple of Christ; and it is not even improbable that 
 some crossed the mount of Olives, to bear the sad 
 tidings to their own and their master's beloved friends 
 at Bethany. It is therefore not surprising that, towards 
 the close of the iniquitous transactions at Pilate's bar, 
 a considerable number of well-disposed and pious 
 persons were gathered together. Their silent grief 
 and tears would easily rouse the sympathies of many 
 among the people, whose pliable and unstable hearts 
 yielded to every impression of grief or joy, of serious- 
 ness or dissipation — a class of persons which has ever 
 been numerous, especially among the female sex; and 
 thus we need not wonder that a multitude of women, 
 who could just as well laugh and sport the next hour, 
 now burst out in weeping and wailing and lamentations, 
 I do not say that the pious friends of Christ and the 
 godly women who had supported him, did not weep. 
 I believe they did; and what an adamantine heart must 
 that have been which could not be melted into tender 
 sorrow at the affecting sight! But excess of grief is 
 seldom the fault of the pious; and the answer of our 
 Lord evidently concerns those, who with their children 
 were to be the unhappy sharers in the overthrow of their 
 devoted city. "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not 
 
160 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. 
 For behold, the days are coming in which they shall 
 say. Blessed are the barren and the wombs that never 
 bare and the paps which never gave suck. Then shall 
 they begin to say to the mountains. Fall on us; and to 
 the hilJs, Cover us. For, if they do these things in a 
 green tree, what shall be done in the dry?" 
 
 About the third hour of the day, according to Mark, 
 (chapter xv, 23) i. e. about nine o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, they arrived at the place of execution. According 
 to the evangelist John, (xix, 14, 15) Christ was not 
 condemned until the sixth hour, and of course could 
 not have been upon Golgotha at the third hour. There 
 are manuscripts which exhibit in John the reading: the 
 " third hour" instead of " the sixth;" and the author 
 of the ' Alexandrine Chronicle' declares that in the 
 autograph of John, kept in the church of Ephesus, the 
 reading was a tually, — (fi>' vja&l l!joa tqIti^) it was about 
 the third hour. Thus John and Mark would a^ree. 
 But be this as it may, it is easy to suppose that John 
 commenced his reckoning about three o'clock in the 
 night; perhaps with the time when Christ was con- 
 demned by the Sanhedrim; or some other period which 
 was prominent in his mind. At all events, the state- 
 ment of Mark is, that which commences with the risins 
 sun. For, according to Matthew and Mark, the sun 
 was not darkened till about the sixth hour, and not, 
 too, until Christ had been hanffins: on the tree for 
 
 ^ or? 
 
 some time, and abused by the Jews and the people, 
 and until his garments had been parted, and various 
 other things had transpired. 
 
 On arriving at the place of e..xecution, they commence 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 161 
 
 by offering to Christ " vinegar mingled with gall," as 
 Matthew says; which is explained by Mark to have 
 been " wine mingled with myrrh." This vinegar (of 
 Matthew) or wine (according to Mark) was the lowest 
 kind of wine, spiced with myrrh for the purpose of 
 intoxication. "When any person," says the Talmud 
 of Babylon, "was brought forth to be put to death, 
 they gave him to drink some frankincense in a cup of 
 wine, that it might stupify him, as it is said. Give 
 strong drink to him that is ready to perish, and wine 
 to those that be of heavy hearts." And there is a 
 tradition, that the gentlewomen of Jerusalem afforded 
 this of their good will. (Lightf III. p. 164.) Christ 
 refused this beverage for reasons too obvious to be 
 mentioned. 
 
 Then they proceed to the crucifixion without delay. 
 The cross I have already described, as to its shape 
 and size. The usual manner in which malefactors 
 were put to the cross, was the following. The cross 
 was first driven into the ground. Into the perpendic- 
 ular post, about the middle, there was driven a peg, 
 or wooden pin, upon which the victim was to sit while 
 he remained on the cross, lest the weight of his body 
 should tear his hands from the nails, and he fall down 
 to the ground. Then the criminal, stripped of his dress, 
 except something wound around about the lower part of 
 his body, by a ladder ascended the cross, or, if unable 
 or unwilling to do so, was raised to it by the execu- 
 tioners. He was set upon the peg, his hands and feet 
 were tied with ropes to their repective places, to 
 prevent motion, and then nails were driven through 
 them into the timber, the ropes taken off and th'S 
 sufferer left to die, 
 
162 MEDITATIONS. J 
 
 Lately, infidelity would make us believe that to nail 
 the feet of malefactors to the cross was never practised; 
 that their hands only were fastened with nails but their 
 feet simply with ropes. The Christian church, it is 
 said, pretended that the feet of Christ were nailed on 
 merely to save the credit of a certain passage in the 
 twenty-second Psalm, which they think represents him 
 in that predi<"anierit. To this, we reply that the asser- 
 tion has been made without any proof; that the early 
 members of the Christian church had abundant oppor- 
 tunity to know the way in which men used to be cruci- 
 fied; and that the very history of our Lord's resurrec- 
 tion proves positively, as we shall see hereafter, that 
 both the hands and the feet of Christ were nailed to 
 the cross. While the soldiers are nailing his hands 
 and feet to the tree, Christ offers up his intercessory 
 prayers for them and for all who were ignorant ly 
 engaged in his crucifixion — a prayer whose beauty 
 will never be sufficiently admired. Christ being fast- 
 ened to the tree and left by the executioners, and 
 while they are putting up the two thieves, one on his 
 right, the other on his left, to mark him, according to 
 the desire of the high priest, as the chief criminal, there 
 was again opportunity for abuse, of which the high- 
 priests and other bystanders avail themselves, with a 
 readiness and zeal which would sink them below the 
 beasts of the field, even if their victim had been guilty 
 of all with which they falsely charged him. Not an 
 ungenerous, brutish, ferocious spirit they exhibit, but 
 an infernal, satanic one; and while the Roman soldiers 
 fulfill one part of the twenty-second Psalm, by dividing 
 and casting lots for Jesus's garments, they fulfill 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 163 
 
 another part of it by spitting out their venom in the 
 very words of that portion of holy writ. Our Lord's 
 prophecy respecting his resurection is again distorted 
 by them, and made an instrument of cruel mockery; 
 his rightful claims to be the true Messiah and the 
 King of Israel, his piety and trust in God; nay, his 
 innumerable benefits bestowed upon the poor, lost 
 sheep of the house of Israel, for whom these sancti- 
 monious hierarchs cared nothing; — all, all is converted 
 into reproach and poison, and is hurled into his face. 
 The innumerable evidences he had given of his divine 
 mission are sneered at; and a boastful descent from 
 the cross — a thing directly opposed to his heavenly 
 spirit and his Father's will — is mockingly made the 
 condition of their belief and submissien. 
 
 There they are, crowding around the cross at a 
 distance, at most, of two or three steps; and as he 
 was raised but about three feet from the ground, the 
 encounter must have been a close one, and he must 
 have been able to hear every whisper and hissing, and 
 to discern every spiteful distortion of their faces. 
 Wagging their heads, as a sign of wonder and con- 
 tempt, they rail at him, saying, " Ah, thou that 
 destroyest the temple and buildest it in three days, 
 save thyself! If thou be the Son of God (i. e. the 
 Messiah) come down from the cross!" Thus, those 
 who passed by. But the high priests know how to 
 wound him deeper. They talk to one another in his 
 hearing; and their gestures — you may imagine what 
 they were. " He saved others, himself he cannot 
 save. If he be the King of Israel, let him come down 
 from the crogs, and we will believe him. He trusted 
 
164 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 in God; let him deliver him now, if he will have him; 
 for he said, I am the Son of God!" Matthew xxvii, 
 40 — 43. Yea, was the reply of others, " Let Christ, 
 the King of Israel, descend now from the cross, that 
 we may see and believe." Mark xv. 32. Like-feeling 
 spirits easily mingle, and hence the Roman soldiers 
 and one of the thieves heartily join them in their 
 abuses of Christ. " If thou be the King of Israel, 
 save thyself," the band exclaims; and the reprobate 
 malefactor, railing on him, roars out, saying, — "If 
 thou be Christ, save thyself and us." Luke xxiii, 39. 
 It was about this time that the penitent thief received 
 the pardon of his sins and the promise of Heaven. 
 This subject, however, forming, as it will, our next medi- 
 tation, must now be passed over in silence. After some 
 hours of abuse, many of the Jews must have been called 
 away by the preparations of the feast, or else they had 
 spent their rage. Then some of the beloved of our 
 Lord were permitted to draw near his cross. " There 
 stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's 
 sister, Mary, the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magda- 
 lene and the disciple," i. e. John. Turning his eyes 
 to his mother and his beloved disciple, he recommends 
 her to the care of the pious youth. This was probably 
 near noon, and Christ had hardly made provision for 
 his aged mother when darkness without and darkness 
 within filled the cup of his sufferings. " Now from the 
 sixth hour (noon) there was darkness over all the land 
 unto the ninth hour." (Matthew, Mark and Luke.) 
 This dreadful darkness of three hours was the prepara- 
 tion for a powerful earthquake, which, however, proba- 
 bly ^id not precede, but followed the death of Christ. 
 
THE SCENE OP GOLGOTHA. 165 
 
 It was not an ordinary eclipse of the sun, for it was 
 now the full moon. During near the whole time of 
 darkness, Christ seems to have been silent, as also his 
 afflicted friends who stood near the cross weeping and 
 mourning. The revilings both of the Jews and the 
 Romans seem to have ceased, and an awful waiting of 
 what was to come next, seems to have suspended every 
 exercise of their minds and stopped their mouths. 
 
 But so much the more powerful were the inward 
 workings of the mind of Christ. A new trial, equally 
 unexpected and terrible, draws near; inward desertion 
 of God. Before the Sanhedrim, Pilate, and Herod, he 
 had exhibited all the dignity of suffering holiness; by 
 the way, as he was bending under his heavy cross, he 
 had yet sympathies for the perishing nalion, and could 
 declare that his condition, that of oppressed innocence, 
 was preferable to theirs, which was that of suffering 
 wickedness and unbelief. On being nailed to the 
 cross, he could yet say, Father, forgive them; under 
 the abuses of the Jews and the heathen, he felt yet 
 that his judgment was with the Lord, and his work 
 acceptable with hi^ God; and he had yet a Paradise 
 to hope for, and to impart to a repenting sinner; and 
 a few minutes before the darkness spread over the 
 land he had calmness of mind sufficient to provide for 
 the temporal comforts of his mother. But noio his 
 mind is overwhelmed with distressing doubts. He 
 knows no more what to think of himself, of his Father 
 in Heaven, of his cause, of his own sufferings and 
 death, of his doctrine, of his prospects, of God's 
 promises, of this perishing world. In vain he struggles 
 for light and assurance; cloud upon cloud rises, billow 
 15 
 
166 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 upon billow rushes towering over his soul, deep upon 
 deep gapes to swallow him up. His breast is full to 
 bursting, and out of the abundance of his heart his 
 mouth speaketh. And what do you think he spoke? 
 " And about the ninth hour (three o'clock) Jesus cried 
 with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? 
 that is to say, my God, my God, why hast thou forsaken 
 me?" (Matthew xxvii, 46.) He dares not say, my 
 Father! he calls him his God, a disconsolate excla- 
 mation. True he calls him, my God. Every believer 
 who has experienced something like it, knows w^hat I 
 say. God is the God of every creature; he is, and 
 ever will be the God of fallen spirits — but alas! their 
 angry, their offended God; and to say, my God, may 
 be saying, my Judge, my devouring fire, my almighty 
 enemy. Some have gone so far as to say that desertion 
 of God was felt only in hell, and that therefore Christ 
 must have have experienced its torments then; but this 
 is more than I find inthe text. Some make his cru- 
 cifixion and death, the desertion of our God; but this 
 he knew before would come, and had long expected. 
 It was the hiding of God's countenance, the utter 
 absence of his presence, spiritual darkness and 
 drought, accompanied as it always is by the fiery darts 
 of the adversary hurled by torrents into the distressed 
 soul. But what such darkness and separation from 
 Heaven must have been to him who had always enjoyed 
 the light of God's countenance, I do not presume to 
 conjecture. 
 
 It does not, however, seem to have been necessary 
 for our salvation, nor proper in the judgment of the 
 Holy One, that his equally holy child Jesus should 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 167 
 
 remain long in this disconsolate condition. Soon the 
 darkness passes; but only to render him sensible to 
 another, and indeed to the most distressing natural 
 inconvenience attending crucifixion — to thirst. Pain is 
 conditioned upon the existence of nerves, and our hands 
 and feet belong to those parts of our frame in which 
 the greatest number of nerves converge. The wounds 
 therefore inflicted upon the hands and feet of the 
 man, who was crucified, soon excited a high and 
 scorching wound-fever. It is peculiar to the wound- 
 fever to break down effectually the spirit of man; and 
 there is no hero known who, on being seized by it, 
 did not become the most trembling coward, and take 
 to the most precipitate flight, if he could. But the 
 thirst of those condemned to crucifixion raged with a 
 force quite peculiar to their state. The soldiers are 
 now sitting and wondering at what they see and hear, 
 and suggest to each other, whether he had not called 
 the prophet Elijah, and whether Elijah would come 
 and deliver him: for they, not understanding Hebrew, 
 necessarily mistook the sense of our Lord's exclama- 
 tion. Then " Jesus knowing that all things were now 
 accomplished, that the scriptures might be fulfilled, 
 saith, 1 thirst." (John xix, 28.) The soldiers hearing 
 this, one of them runs to a vessel filled with the most 
 common wine, and putting a sponge upon the reed 6f a 
 hissop, (which grows rather larger in Palestine than 
 with us, and yields a feeble reed of two or three feet in 
 length) he fills the sponge with wine and puts it to the 
 mouth of Christ that he might suck it out. This wine 
 is a different beverage from that which our Lord 
 refused to take before his crucifixion, and contained 
 
168 medit^lTions. 
 
 no myrrh. ''When Jesus had received the vinegar, 
 (i. e. the wine) he said, It is fulfilled, (John xix, 30.) 
 Then crying out with a loud voice, he said. Father, into 
 thy hands I commend my spirit: and having said thus, 
 he bowed his head (John xix, 31) and gave up the 
 ghost. (Luke xxiii, 46.) Then the earth was shaken, 
 rocks in diverse places were rent, and graves opened, 
 and the inner vail of the temple which separated 
 the sanctuary from the holy of holies was torn in two 
 pieces. The centurion and his band affrighted gave 
 glory to God, saying, " Certainly this was a righteous 
 man; truly this was the Son of God: and many of the 
 people beholding the things which were done, smote 
 their breasts and returned." (Luke xxiii, 48.) 
 
 " The Jews, therefore, because it was the prepara- 
 tion that the bodies should not remain upon the cross 
 on the Sabbath day, (for that Sabbath day was an high- 
 day,) besought Pilate that their legs might be broken, 
 and that they might be taken away. Then came the 
 soldiers and break the legs of the first and of the other 
 which was crucified with him. But when they came 
 to Jesus and saw that he was dead already, they break 
 not his legs. But one of the soldiers with a spear 
 pierced his side, and forthwith came there out blood 
 and water. And he that saw it bare record and his 
 record is true, and he knoweth that he saith true, that 
 ye might believe. For these things were done that 
 the scripture should be fulfilled, a bone of him shall 
 not be broken. And again another scripture saith : 
 They shall look on him whom they have pierced." 
 (John xix, 31—37.) 
 
 Thus died he who brought salvation to this perishing 
 
THE SCENE OP GOLGOTHA. 169 
 
 world. He came poor, and poor he went out of this 
 
 world; with wounds and stripes and with a wreath of 
 
 thorns around his head. Extended on the cross he 
 
 finished his course; but he left behind him the rich 
 
 legacy of a boundless and eternal salvation to all who 
 
 repent and believe. The reality of his death has been 
 
 doubted by some; but by such men and upon such 
 
 grounds, that we need not feel any concern on the 
 
 subject. It rests with us on the sure foundation of 
 
 the divine word; it was predicted by the prophets of 
 
 old and by Christ himself; it was witnessed and 
 
 attested by impartial and quite incredulous witnesses; 
 
 it is either asserted or assumed in every book, and 
 
 almost on every page of the New Testament; it was 
 
 firmly maintained by the primitive Christians in the 
 
 face of Jews and Heathen; it was silently though 
 
 unwillingly acknowledged by the bitterest enemies of 
 
 the truth. In addition to all this, however, when we 
 
 shall come to the history of our Lord's resurrection, 
 
 I shall bring forward such evidence as will show the 
 
 inherent absurdity of every contrary hypothesis. 
 
 Various and delightful are the reflections and com- 
 forts which cluster around the cross of our Lord and 
 Saviour. 1 will briefly indicate a few, and then close. 
 1. Many and great are our comforts on the bed of 
 languor and death. 
 
 How enviable is our situation at the very time when 
 stretched on a bed of anguish and death we think to 
 be overwhelmed with sorrow, if we compare it but for 
 a moment with the situation of Christ. Usually there 
 is with us the comfortable room, there is the con- 
 venient bed, the soft pillow, the soothing medicine, 
 15* 
 
170 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 the refreshing drink. There is the careful wife, 
 the anxious husband, the affectionate child, the 
 experienced mother, the faithful friend, the able 
 physician around our bed, taxing every power of 
 invention to alleviate our sorrows; — as though the 
 tears they hide, the sighs they suppress, as though the 
 deep thrill of tenderest sympathy which animates every 
 whisper of their voice were not already more precious, 
 more stored with healing power that all the spices of 
 India and the productions of European science; and 
 often while a stranger and far from friends and kindred, 
 a merciful Samaritan is led by and pours oil and wine 
 into our wounds. If we choose to have it so, there is 
 also the word of God, the voice of prayer, the conso- 
 lations of the gospel, ministering spirits encircling 
 our bed ; the love of Jesus, the hope of Heaven through 
 his blood. By a merciful dispensation, the distracted 
 world then flees, our enemies are out of sight, the 
 whole world seems to consist of a few loving friends, 
 because no others approach our couch. True, here 
 you see a Swartz, after near fifty years of faithful 
 and hard missionary labor, dying with excruciating 
 pain; there a Christian, like Thomas Scott, struggles 
 for a hope of Heaven until his thickening blood 
 already gathers around his heart and circulation 
 begins to stop; in yonder hovel you find stretched out 
 in a corner on the ground, alone, unheeded, a Martyn, 
 dying the death of the righteous. Often indeed it is 
 true, what the prophet Isaiah testifieth, (Ivii, 1,2): 
 *'The righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to 
 heart; and merciful men are taken away, and no man 
 considereth :" — but what follows, does also hold true : 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 171 
 
 " The righteous is taken away from the evil to come. 
 He shall enter into peace, and all who have walked in 
 uprightness rest in their beds." Either external, or 
 internal comforts, but usually both, are administered 
 to the suffering and dying believer. Jesus's faith- 
 fulness and love will not let him expire in utter dark- 
 ness and destitution; and never have I heard of that 
 Christian who exclaimed like unto him : My God, my 
 God ! why hast thou forsaken me ? He may be tried 
 hard ; destitution without and within may oppress and 
 afflict him ; but a secret and faithful hand will bear 
 him up, and bear him through, and before his soul 
 leaves her tenement of clay, he will return answer to 
 himself, saying : Why art thou cast down, O my soul, 
 and why art thou disquieted within me ? Hojje thou in 
 God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of 
 my countenance and my God." 
 
 But what shall I say, fellow Christians, of our fret- 
 fulness, our impatience on the bed of languor, our 
 unmindfulness of our many comforts even then, and of 
 the many services of love we are receiving, and of all 
 of which our Lord was destitute ? Ah, we had lost 
 sight of Calvary then; and well may we hide our 
 blushing countenances in the dust, as we look up to 
 Him. Break it down, that wicked and unbroken spirit 
 of self-will and fretfulness; break it down by the cross 
 of Christ. It will not do for us to harbor that evil 
 demon in our breasts after we have seen how Jesus 
 suffered and died. O may death find us in the exercise 
 of meek submission and with the sweet petition on our 
 tongues. Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit. 
 
 2. Jesus can perfectly sympathise with us to our 
 last expiring breath. 
 
172 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 1 have but little to say on this reflection. To reason, 
 it seems that God must know our afflictions, and be 
 able to sympathise with us without having himself the 
 experience of them, and even to him who admits it on 
 the authority of revelation that we did need such an 
 high-priest, the idea has but little if any savor. Here 
 distress and trouble, the sick bed, the dying bed must 
 be the interpreters and the preachers of the word; 
 and I can only say : remember this truth when you 
 are draAving near unto death, and see whether it will 
 not yield you comforts, whether it will hold out or not 
 when all human consolations fail. 
 
 r 3. Sorrows and spiritual darkness, which sometimes 
 attend the dying bed of a Christian, are no evidence 
 either against the truth itself, or against his own 
 Christian character; and the easy death of the infidel 
 proves neither the truth of infidelity nor the goodness 
 of his heart. 
 
 The impenitent criminal on the cross experienced 
 no hidings of God's countenance, and not a word of 
 concern or anxiety about the past or the future 
 escapes his lips. Not even the dreadfiil torment of the 
 cross could humble him -sufficiently to make him 
 refrain from sin and blasphemy, and probably he has 
 never since stopped cursing and blaspheming. But 
 the holy Saviour is full of distress, and anguish, and 
 mourning. It is indeed the legitimate effect of " a 
 good hope through grace" to sustain the sinking spirits 
 when heart and flesh fail ; and it is no more than 
 natural, that the absorbing interest of earthly things 
 should vanish and leave the soul empty and the bosom 
 desolate when the honest hour of death draws near, 
 
THE SCENE OP GOLGOTHA. 173 
 
 and eternity pours its peering light upon the titles, 
 treasures and lusts of this perishing world. Moreover, 
 we know that God is with his people in life and death, 
 but that the hope of the hypocrite and the worldly man 
 will perish when God taketh away the soul. Yet who 
 can doubt, that deep-rooted self-righteousness, brute 
 stupidity, or strong* and refined stoicism may not cleave 
 to the dying sinner until the light of eternity reveal to 
 him his character, and the flames of hell his doom ; 
 while the trembling believer on closing his weeping eyes 
 upon this world, may hear the unexpected invitation, 
 Well done good and faithful servant, enter thou into the 
 joy of thy Lord ! Let us not boast too much of the 
 joyful death of many a pious soul, but rather be humbly 
 grateful for it. It is a gift of God, which he may 
 bestow or withhold. Let us rather see to it, all ye 
 who hear me, that we breathe the spirit of Jesus now, 
 and the abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom 
 of our God will not fail us, whether our death be try- 
 ing or triumphant. 
 
 4. We ought spiritually to die to the world and all 
 its vanities. 
 
 Paul professes to be by the cross of Christ crucified 
 to the world; i. e. as dead to its allurements as a 
 crucified man would be, — and the world to be crucified 
 unto him, i. e. utterly incapable of charming him 
 any longer. (Galatians vi, 14,) — "They that are 
 Christians have crucified their flesh with the sinful 
 aflfections and lusts;" chapter v, !24.- — i. e. they have 
 broken down by the power of God their ruling influence 
 over them. "I am crucified with Christ!" — he 
 exclaims in another place; " nevertheless, I live^ yet 
 
174 MEDITATIOx\S. 
 
 not I, but Christ liveth in me;" chapter ii, 20. Similar 
 
 semiments are scattered over the pages of the bible 
 
 everywhere. The death of Christ does not excuse 
 
 us from dying to our lusts, but it renders this possible; 
 
 it shows its propriety; it implies it; it recommends it ; 
 
 nay, it absolutely commands it, and with a voice, too, 
 
 more powerful than the combined thunders of Sinai. 
 
 To sin under the old dispensation was to transgress the 
 
 law; to sin under the new, is to transgress the law, 
 
 » and to crucify the Son of God. He died for sin; we 
 
 5 must die to sin. And blessed be God ! now we can 
 
 I do it. The enemy is conquered; the new and living 
 
 * way is open; the vail of the holy of holies is torn 
 
 asunder; our graves are open; Christ and his merits 
 
 and his omnipotent Spirit are ours. 
 
 5. Once more. There is no rest, no peace of 
 heart except under the cross, and in the cross. 
 
 There is no rest except under the cross. There is 
 no satisfaction, no peace of mind to the expected, 
 except there. I know on hearing this the worlding 
 will point me to his diversion, and pleasure, the dirt 
 in which he delights to wallow; the ambitious to his 
 acquired or desired greatness, fame, titles, etc. ; 
 the avaricious to his yellow dust; the scholar to his 
 rich and boundless field of literature and science. But 
 I repeat it, there is no rest, no peace, no satisfaction, 
 except under the cross of Christ. For there is in the 
 human breast a set of slumbering wants which stretch 
 themselves infinitely beyond all the boasted glories of 
 this world, and leave stars, comets and galaxies at an 
 interminable distance beneath their feet. There are 
 eyes planted in the heart, which must be filled with 
 
THE SCENE OP GOLGOTHA. 175 
 
 the glories of a world of spirit «f and holiness, or they 
 will forever grate upon their sockets and rouse insuf- 
 ferable anguish. There is a thirst, a hunger, linger- 
 ing unheeded in the deep recesses of the spirit, 
 which is not to be hushed forever into silence by the 
 highway din of carnal desires and worldly dissipation, 
 or drudgery, and which must be satisfied with the bread 
 and water of life, or eternal starvation will inevitably 
 follow. 
 
 There is no rest only in the cross; in the giving up 
 of every wrong, self-seeking desire, of every idol, and 
 darling sin within and without us. To be nothing in 
 this world, to wish for nothing but Christ, to know 
 nothing but Christ, to have nothing but him, — is per- 
 fect freedom, perfect health, eternal wealth, supreme 
 wisdom, irresistible and holy power, transcending and 
 real dignity, the satisfaction of every want, the filling 
 up of the deep and vacant pit of all our spiritual 
 desires, and endless rest. 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 
 
 LUKE XXIII. 39 — 43. 
 
 And one of the malefactors wliich were hanged railed on hun, saying, If thou 
 be Christ, save thyself and us. But the other answering, rebuked him, saying 
 Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we 
 indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds j but this man hath 
 done nothing amiss. And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou 
 comest into thy kingdom. And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To- 
 day thou shalt be with me in paradise. 
 
 I SHALL endeavor at this time to make my hearers 
 acquainted more than they have been hitherto, per- 
 haps, with the poor, penitent thief on the cross. In 
 any other place, this might indeed be an unpardonable 
 offence against the rules of propriety ; but in the 
 house of God, where the etiquette of Heaven alone 
 rules and dictates, not a word, even of apology, I trust, 
 will be needed. In drawing his picture, I shall speak, 
 -16 
 
178 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 I. Of his wicked life. 
 
 II. Of his repentance. 
 
 III. Of his faith, and 
 
 IV. Of his ready acceptance with Christ. 
 
 I. Of his wicked life. " The way of the wicked is 
 as darkness," saith Solomon, — dark in its beginning, 
 darker in its progress, darkest ih its catastrophe. 
 Where the usual restraints are taken away, the way 
 of the wicked man begins with the degrading service 
 of those senses which he has in common with the 
 brutes; then he goes on to a conscious violation of 
 known and acknowledged obligations and moral pre- 
 cepts; then to a dull insensibility to them; then to 
 an instinctive disinclination to them; then to a de- 
 liberate hatred against him Vvho gave those precepts; 
 then to open enmity towards those who obey them, and 
 in fine, towards everything holy, just and good. The 
 character itself is ever the same; but the degrees of 
 development differ, gathering blackness as they ap- 
 proach the spirit of hell to which they are verging. 
 
 Thus the prodigal son of our text. He had wasted 
 a life in the service of Satan. We meet him on his 
 way to death, a disturber of public peace, a terror to 
 the innocent, an abomination to the upright, at a heav- 
 en-wide distance from God and holiness, a despiser both 
 of divine and of human laws, unworthy to live even 
 in a world like this, where a thousand acts of wicked- 
 ness may be perpetrated unpunished. And yet his 
 language bears a close analogy to the language of the 
 sacred Scriptures, of the Old Testament, and the best 
 commentators agree that he was a Jew. Hence, it is 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 179 
 
 probable in the highest degree that he enjoyed early 
 religious advantages. Faint recollections of divine 
 truth seem to play around his memory; stifled feelings 
 and half-effaced impressions of past times seem to be 
 struggling now for that influence over his mind and 
 heart, which they hg^d so long and so unjustly been 
 denied. How often may they have pleaded for that share 
 of attention which they deserved, but in vain. Every 
 good thought of that man had been crushed from his 
 youth up; every religious privilege despised; every 
 offer of mercy from within and from without neglected; 
 God and his word set aside; his Sabbaths profaned; 
 his people and his sanctuary carefully shunned, and 
 bad company, profaneness, riot, and gambling pre- 
 ferred. Had the poor wandering youth pious parents? 
 They arp perhaps grieved to death. The tears and 
 entreaties of his godly mother provoked but his impa- 
 tience; the remonstrances of his father, his indignation; 
 the rebukes, yea, the very presence of pious people, 
 his hatred; public laws, his revenge; the laws of God, 
 his blasphemies. He began, like all the rest of for- 
 lorn wretches, with sins of the heart; then came unre- 
 strained language; then the so called small deviations 
 of youth; until driven from society he plunged himself 
 into that whirlpool of crimes where man becomes the 
 proper bond-slave of Satan and a curse and terror to 
 his fellow-men. 
 
 This indeed is substantially the history of thousands 
 of every sex, age, rank and description, whose dying 
 beds the minister of Christ has to attend. In the silent 
 hour of midnight, perhaps, he is called. With hasty 
 steps he proceeds to the solemn place marked by the 
 
180 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 solitary night-lamp, where an immortal being is about 
 to change worlds. And what is the scene he meets? 
 There lies a poor, distressed sinner, ready to breathe 
 his last. His physicians have given him up; his gay 
 friends have taken their leave, and shun his sick-bed 
 like death — a few hirelings excc'pted, who hope to be 
 his heirs; the card-table, the drinking-table are upset; 
 the candles of the ball-room are quenched; and the 
 viol, the timbrel, and the harp of his riotous feasts are 
 silent forever; the busy world has forgotten him; life 
 has lost its deceitful charms, its usurped importance; 
 eternity draws near. His early lot God had caused to 
 fall in pleasant places, intending to give him a goodly 
 heritage in his kingdom hereafter. Pious parents, 
 good society, the privileges of the sanctuary, the word 
 of God, many a faithful admonition of conscience, 
 in short, a thousand calls from Heaven marked his 
 youthful days. But the world called on the other side 
 and promised, what it is neither able nor willing to 
 give, happiness, greatness, satisfaction. The sensual 
 youth doubted, listened, endeavored the impossible and 
 absurd task of serving two masters; he cannot bear to 
 give up the world all at once, as the Bible requires it; 
 he wants to enjoy himself a little while ; he is caught. 
 His thoughtfulness, if any he had, wears out; his 
 strength to resist the evil one fails; nay, he begins to like 
 his baits; doubts respecting the reality of religion fill 
 his mind; the darkness of the sacred Scriptures, the 
 imperfection of pious people, the pressure of business, 
 and ten thousand other lying refuges are resorted to; 
 the world gathers numberless and resistless charms; 
 the tempter doubles his offers, and the deluded sinner 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 181 
 
 strikes hands, and bidding deliberately farewell to 
 Christ and his cross, he follows on straightway as ah 
 ox goeth to the slaughter; he serves the flesh, the 
 world, and the devil. Awhile he feels himself great 
 and happy; his course, especially when compared 
 with that of the humble and despised Jesus and his 
 followers, seems to be an honorable, interesting and 
 delightful one; until God lays his hand upon him; 
 until sickness, death, the grave, eternity, judgment, 
 and endless retribution stare into his face. But then, 
 O then ! — his greatness, his riches, his learning, his 
 pleasures, his dissipations, his idle schemes and plans 
 for many days to come — all are vanished like a morn- 
 ing dream, like smoke. Now he wants to repent. He 
 sends for ministers, he looks for his Bible, he wants to 
 hear the voice of prayer. He wants to be saved. 
 But it is vain, too late — too late. The spark of a 
 better conscience is effectually and forever quenched; 
 the irrevokable sentence of reprobation is past in the 
 court of Heaven, and sealed with the seal of eternity; 
 like Esau he seeks repentance and finds none. Despair 
 strangles him on his pillow, and malicious spirits from 
 beneath goad his mad and raving soul down to hell, 
 where their worm dieth not, and where the fire is not 
 quenched. A few moments he was glittering with 
 delusive brightness on the firmament of polished 
 society; now he goes down like a wandering star to 
 the blackness of darkness forever, and no minister, no 
 Bible, no prayer, no sacrament can save him from 
 eternal ruin ! 
 
 This is the lot of thousands, and tens of thousands; 
 but, thanks be to God for his sovereign power and 
 16* 
 
182 MEDITATIONS. i 
 
 grace in Jesus Christ, it is not the lot of all. Saul 
 sins, and dies without repentance; David sins too, but 
 sues for pardon and receives it. Ahab serves Baalim 
 and dies without repentance; Manasseh serves them 
 too, but repents and is forgiven. Among soldiers, we 
 meet with the centurion and with Cornelius, among 
 publicans with Matthew and Zacheus, among the 
 Pharisees with Nicodemus, among magistrates with 
 Joseph of Arimathaea, among dissolute women with 
 the woman "which was a sinner," but unto whom 
 much was forgiven because she loved much; among 
 those who deny the Lord that bought them, we meet 
 with Peter; among the persecutors of the people of 
 God, with Paul; among thieves and murderers, with 
 the penitent thief on the cross. O for eyes to behold 
 the innumerable host of poor, but forgiven sinners 
 around mount Zion above ! Numbers without number 
 uttering joy, gratitude and everlasting praise ! But 
 could we see them, and hear their holy song, the eye 
 of our penitent sinner would burn with no inferior flame, 
 and his voice would not be found the lightest in the 
 harmony of Heaven. 
 
 II, Of his repentance. What his state of mind was 
 while he was imprisoned and on his way to the place 
 of execution, we are not told. But while it is quite 
 probable that he was not altogether thoughtless, it is 
 certain too, that he had no adequate conception of his 
 guilt and danger. Had he known himself, his eyes 
 would have been opened to see and to knov/ his Saviour 
 also walking near him, bearing the sins of the world; 
 and he would not have deferred securing his own 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 183 
 
 salvation, to near the last minute of his life. But the 
 poor man was ignorant of his own condition, and how 
 could he know him who reveals himself only to the 
 broken and contrite in heart. So blinded are we by 
 nature, that the most heinous crimes committed by us 
 cannot truly impress us with our state of 2;uilt and 
 condemnation before God, And this is the chief 
 reason why Christ remains unknown to most even of 
 those in whose ears his name is ringing every day. Let 
 us pray for a knowledge of ourselves, and the knowl- 
 edge of Christ will follow soon and certainly enough. 
 
 Our melancholy procession has arrived at the place 
 of execution, the crosses are raised and fixed in the 
 ground; the victims are fastened to them, Christ in 
 the middle as the chief criminal. Now a horrible scene 
 begins, at which Heaven wept, and the powers of dark- 
 ness shouted for joy. The pharisees, the high priests 
 and the people begin to mock and curse Christ, the 
 poor defenceless victim of their rage. They challenge 
 him to come down from the cross, and laugh him to 
 scorn that he had saved so many others, and was unable 
 (as they thought) to save himself. The two murderers 
 remained unabused, you observe, for the world loveth 
 her own, in a measure, even to the end. Christ makes 
 no reply, shows no resentment, no feeling moves his 
 breast, except that of pity; no words came from his 
 lips, except those of prayer and intercession for his 
 infuriated murderers. This may have been the first 
 moment, when a saving ray of heavenly light fell into 
 the heart of our penitent thief For thus it happened 
 afterwards, when Christians were suffering and dying 
 on the stake without a murmur and without resentment, 
 
184 MEDITATIONS. * 
 
 nay, with prayer for their tyrants and with praises to 
 God, that the eyes of thoughtless and stupid beholders 
 were opened, their minds enlightened, their hearts 
 renewed and their souls saved. 
 
 The other thief, hardened in sin and given over, now 
 begins to rave. He has inferred from the mockeries 
 of the Jews, that the man of the middle cross must be 
 that famous Rabbi, who had done so many great and 
 wonderful works, and whom many believed to be the 
 Messiah; and he doubtless expected that if this was 
 the case, he would forthwith show his power, descend 
 from his cross, deliver his fellow sufferers also, and 
 make havoc of his enemies. But he waits in vain. 
 Christ makes no reply, no efibrt to descend, but 
 evidently prepares for death. Disappointment, con- 
 tempt and anger now take the place of a carnal hope, 
 and fill the heart of the miserable man; and he pours 
 out the whole torrent of his rage upon the suffering, 
 and praying, and dying Jesus. Thus Herod and Pilate 
 make friendship, and high priests and murderers join 
 harmoniously as soon as Christ or his peopl^e are to be 
 persecuted and slain. He that is not for Christ, is 
 against him, and he who does not gather with him, 
 scattereth. 
 
 Christ is silent still, and hides not his face from 
 reproach and cursing. The penitent thief on the other 
 side looks on, and wonders, and admires the scene. 
 The moment of mercy has come; the blasphemies of 
 his fellow criminal and of the Jews make him shudder; 
 God opens his eyes; he sees the guilt of these meii 
 and his own guilt in all its length and breadth. Our guilt 
 and our need are one. He who feels his guilt, feels his 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 185 
 
 need, and he who feels his need will naturally seek 
 relief; and he that seeketh, says Christ, findeth. The 
 heart of the poor man breaks; he can bear the sight 
 no longer. He rebukes his companion in sin; and 
 before God and all the world he confesses his own 
 guilt and shame. " Doest thou not fear God, seeing 
 that thou art in the same condemnation? And we 
 indeed justly; for it' e receive the due reward of our 
 deeds; but this man hath done nothing amiss." 
 
 To justify God and to condemn ourselves, these are 
 inseparable and true characteristics of genuine repen- 
 tance. Self-condemnation, — not the external, hypo- 
 critical, partial one committed to memory like the Abe: 
 but heartfelt, sincere, sweeping, carrying away from 
 us every appparance of worthiness and claim before 
 God, — is a dagger to the heart of the "old man." For 
 when our claims upon divine favor are all clean gone, 
 then it is plain there remains no other alternative to 
 us than to lay down our arms and to surrender uncon- 
 ditionally to the sovereign pleasure of God. But to 
 trust himself to his God without reserve, and without 
 selfish bargains, is not in the heart of man. Hence 
 the awful shrinking of sinners, when convinced of their 
 guilt. Free and sovereign grace is an element, in 
 which sinful nature and the carnal heart of man must 
 expire without remedy. And therefore even thieves 
 and murderers in prison and on the scaffold will cleave 
 to the goodness of their own characters with stubborn 
 tenacity, unaccountable and ridiculous as the fact may 
 appear to us. But what shall they do ^ Such uncon- 
 ditional surrender to God, — ah ! it is like the giving 
 up of the ghost. To subscribe to the unqualified accu- 
 
186 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 sation of unmingled and sweeping guilt, to strike our- 
 selves the death-blowto our own characters before God, 
 to knock away all the rotten props around about which 
 supported us, and relinquishing the frail bottom of ( haff 
 and sand on which our house stood, to leap out of our 
 element, and to throw ourselves into the mysterious 
 deeps of divine sovereignty and divine mercy, with noth- 
 ing in our hands, but a poor, short word of promise, — 
 oh ! our very soul shudders at the thought, and 
 " chooses strangling rather than life" on these terms, 
 and hell itself has no more terrors to human nature than 
 this tremendous attempt. And from this point, indeed, 
 it is that the greatest number of thoughtful and inquir- 
 ing men turn back and perish forever. And yet, it is 
 and forever remains the indispensable condition of 
 pardoned sin and eternal life. 
 
 III. His faith. — The mind of this man is no sooner 
 settled on the subje t of "repentance toward God," 
 than " faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ," rises 
 into existence. This is the proper divine order, which 
 men may not invert or destroy. " Repent and believe!" 
 is the message of God to fallen man. Some mean to 
 believe without repentance, but they will find them- 
 selves mistaken. Faith without previous repentance' 
 is a dead thought, a mere notion, a doctrine admitted 
 either with or without evidence, a weak, second-handed 
 conviction. Reasoning at the best built it up; reason- 
 ing may pluck it down again. It leaves the mind 
 unenlightened, the heart untouched, unpurified, the 
 life unaltered, the soul under condemnation of death. 
 Faith after true repentance is a conviction resting on 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 187 
 
 experience and intuitive evidence, a truth of the first 
 order, it is the substance of things hoped for and the 
 unshaken evidence of things unseen by carnal eyes. It 
 carries reason and logic headlong; it quickens and 
 renews the heart, enlightens the mind, influences the 
 life, overcomes the world, and lays hold on things 
 heavenly and eternal. 
 
 So was the faith of our penitent sinner: "Lord 
 remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." 
 Lord? What does he mean? The poor, condemned, 
 executed Jew, a lord? Certainly, he is none of the 
 lords of this world, this is plain; and he never had 
 been one of their number. He was of humble origin 
 and from the most despised city of Judea. " Lord, 
 remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom!'* 
 Into what kingdom? Certainly into no kingdom of 
 this world. For if really birth had given him a claim 
 upon all the thrones on earth, the hope of inheriting 
 them and of distributing their offices to his favorites, 
 was forever past. "Lord, remember me/" Whom? 
 Him he was to remember, who was ready himself to 
 expire, and who could deserve no benefit from any 
 earthly protection. No. To our penitent malefactor 
 the world with its prospects was blasted, and its attrac- 
 tions dead forever. The eye of his faith was directed 
 to another world; his affections were settling on things 
 above. He calls Christ "Lord" in a spiritual sense, 
 a Lord in the world to come, who had a spiritual and 
 everlasting kingdom to expect, and to distribute, and 
 whose mere rememberance- of him would be sufficient 
 to secure his eternal interests. But who is Lord and 
 King in Heaven save the Lord of lords and the King of 
 
188 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 kings? Who has power to distribute the blessings of 
 the world to come to whomsoever he pleases, but he 
 " who doeth his pleasure in the armies of Heaven and 
 among the inhabitants of the earth, and to whom no 
 man may say, what doest thou?" This confession, 
 therefore, amounts to the solemn and comprehensive 
 declaration, thou art the Son of God, the Messiah, the 
 Word, which was in the beginning with God and which 
 was God, the maker and ruler of the universe, the 
 sovereign disposer of the inheritance of the saints in 
 light, the Saviour of the world, who can and will save 
 freely and to the uttermost all who come unto him. 
 
 But how does he come by this faith in circumstances 
 so unspeakably unfavorable, so decidedly opposed to 
 it? The condemned, expiring man on yonder cross 
 the Lord of Heaven? A stumbling-block of mountain 
 size to the Jews, and the very height of foolishness to 
 the Greeks. His was a giant stretch of faith, I confess. 
 In respect to external support, it outstrips the faith of 
 all the apostles, the centurion, the distressed fathers 
 and mothers, the blind, the deaf, the lepers, the para- 
 lytics; the faith of all martyrs on the stake, in the 
 flames, in persecution, in caves and dens of the earth. 
 It was pure faith, clean and free from every support 
 from without, a work of the Holy Spirit unalloyed by 
 any earthly ingredient. Peter walked on the sea, 
 but he saw Christ pacing with firm steps over the roll- 
 ing wave; the apostles remained faithful to their con- 
 viction, but they had witnessed ten thousand exhibi- 
 tions of Christ's divine power, and had seen him and 
 conversed with him for three years. The sick and the 
 distressed came to him from far, but the land was full 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 189 
 
 of his fame; the saints in after times sacrificed their 
 lives for him, but they had accumulating proofs of his 
 all-overruling sceptre, daily adding strength (if this be 
 possible) to the testimony of the sacred records. And 
 what is it for us qiow to believe on him, when the cloud 
 of witnesses and the mass of evidence in his favor have 
 already become so boundless that it requires almost a 
 life to pass over and duly estimate the whole of it? It 
 is all comparatively nothing. Our faith is sight, and 
 wo unto that man who can at the present day live and 
 die without being a Christian from his heart! Sodom 
 and Gomorrah, Bethsaida, Chorazin, and Capernaum, 
 the scoffing Jews, the dying impenitent rebel of our 
 text, will condemn him in the Judgment day. 
 
 But let us look up to Calvary again. Here is a faith 
 firm and clear. Not like the faith of many a professor 
 of religion, an ignis faiuus, sprung from mud, and 
 lost and straying until it is quenched in endless 
 night; but bright and sure like the polar star. Not 
 like the dim, unsteady night-lamps in the dismal cave 
 of human speculation, suspended on a rolling cord, 
 or a rusting wire; but like the noon-day sun in his 
 strength, supported by the invisible power of Heaven, 
 rejoicing like a strong man to run a race, equally un- 
 checked in his progress by the small pebbleon the sea- 
 shore, and by the heaven-towering mountains of the 
 western world, triumphing over obstacles from every 
 quarter, and cleaving to the divine Saviour of the world 
 when believers doubted and despaired, and apostles 
 fled in confusion; when angels in heaven stopped their 
 harps in awful suspense as to v*hat was coming, and 
 the powers of darkness shouted victory and triumph* 
 IT 
 
100 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 " Lord, remember me! " It was a faith working an 
 enth^e and unconditional surrender to Christ. There is 
 no choosing, no self-will, no undue aspiration, no de- 
 sire to obtain even a pledge. Remember me; this is 
 enough. Do as thou will with me, only remember me. 
 "Lord, remember me, when thou comest in thy king- 
 dom." This is no carnal faith, no selfish prayer. The 
 impenitent thief on the other side wished to be remem- 
 bered too; but in this world, and to be delivered from 
 the agonies of the cross. This man is willing to suffer 
 here, if he can live in the remembrance of Christ in 
 heaven. This is the true distinction between the be- 
 liever and the unbeliever, and their prayers. The one 
 wishes to be delivered from pain, the other from sin; 
 the one seeks the world, the other heaven. 
 
 But you ask again, How did he attain to this precious 
 faith? I answer, the Holy Spirit wrought it in him. 
 On natural principles it cannot be accounted for. But 
 you, who know the Lord, why do you ask this question.^ 
 You know that there is such a thing as divine illumi- 
 nation. Do you not remember the time, when a light 
 seemed to be poured all at once over the word of God; 
 a light, which seemed to quicken every letter, and 
 light up ten thousand stars on every page.'' when 
 divine subjects, which used to be dark and confounded 
 in your minds, appeared to you in a harmony never 
 before seen, and with the charms of divine symmetry 
 chained your astonished and enchanted hearts and 
 looks? when a passage of the divine word, which 
 aforetimes seemed hardly to furnish matter for five 
 minutes' reflection, expanded in every direction like 
 the blue sky, till you could pursue it no longer? 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CKOSS. IS^l 
 
 when a promise seemingly of little meaning and little 
 value, became to you an inexhaustible source of con- 
 solation, a sure support in distress, a shield against 
 the fiery darts of the adversary, and a flaming sword 
 with which you could chase a thousand evil spirits 
 from your heart? Surely ye do remember the time. 
 
 Well, here is the same effect produced by the same 
 cause. Our dying penitent had heard of the woman's 
 seed who should bruise the serpent's head, yet so as 
 to have his heel bruised first. Or he remembered the 
 "il^d or the 69th Psalm, or the 53d chapter of Isaiah, 
 or some other similar portion of holy writ. It had 
 been sleeping in his mind, having no sense, no interest, 
 no form nor comeliness. But behold, his eyes are 
 now opened by the Holy Spirit. Heavenly light glows 
 and blazes behind the dark transparency. All is plain, 
 all beautiful, interesting, lovely, irresistibly attractive. 
 The godly, patient sufferer on yonder accursed tree, 
 is the brazen serpent raised by Moses, that all who 
 behold it might be saved. The whole dark, unintelli- 
 gible dispensation of baptisms and divers washings, of 
 sacrifices and shedding of blood which could not take 
 away sin, — O ! what a striking symbol of the sacrifice 
 of the Son of God! Moses' mediation and prophetic 
 character, Melchisedeck's and Aaron's priestly offices, 
 David's and Solomon's reigns ^ — how fit to shadow 
 forth the new dispensation which was just commenc- 
 ing! "Cursed is every one," says the law, "that 
 continuelh not in all things which are written in the 
 book of the law to do them;" and again it says, 
 *' cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree." Jesus 
 
192 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 of Nazareth is the Son of God, the Lamb slain from 
 the foundation of the world, the Saviour of all men, 
 the Lord of Heaven. "Lord, remember me!'* 
 Blessed consequences of early religious instruction ! 
 Unhappy those who are deprived of them by the 
 cunning craftiness or the infidelity of wicked men; 
 thrice unhappy those who neglect them wilfully and 
 thus shut themselves out from their last ray of hope. 
 
 IV". His ready acceptance of Christ. — The short 
 petition is no sooner uttered, when the answer is ready. 
 *' Verily I say unto thee, to-day shall thou be with me 
 in paradise " Ten thousand talents was the sinner of 
 our text owing to his Lord, and he forgave him freely.. 
 He was a murderer, nay, his murderer, as indeed we 
 all are, but his guilt is not so much as noticed with a 
 word. He comes with his mountain-load of crimes, 
 and he is received, without rebuke, without a reprov- 
 ing look, without a moment^s hesitation, and he receives 
 his title to heaven without money, and without price. 
 He comes without long preparations of self-mortifica- 
 tion, without that self-righteous routine invented by 
 men; he comes as he is, poor, blind, naked, in want of 
 all things, and is received with open arms; he comes 
 in the last hour of his life and finds the heart of Christ 
 and the gates of heaven wide open. There is one 
 condition, and but one, " Come !" 
 
 But is not this a dangerous doctrine? Will not 
 men on that account persevere in sin? What if they 
 did? I am bound to preach the gospel as it is; but I 
 am not responsible for the abuse which wicked men 
 
TMfi PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 193 
 
 may make of it. Yet if there be here one who means 
 to go to Calvary in order to get confirmed in sin, be it 
 go ! Let him go there, and mark well every feature 
 of the affecting scene on that sacred spot. And if the 
 dying Saviour cannot impress him with the holiness of 
 God, the sacredness of his law, and the exceeding 
 sinfulness of sin; if he can trample upon dying love 
 with true infernal contempt; if the narrow, hair- 
 breadth escape of the repenting criminal cannot make 
 him shudder, nor frighten him from his evil way: then 
 let him turn his eyes to the other side, and on the third 
 cross he will see a man of fearful likeness to himself, as 
 standing, warning monument for impious, daring sinners 
 like him; a dying impenitent monster, mocking his 
 Saviour, and cursing his God and his King with his 
 last breath. That is the cross which God caused to 
 be erected for him who dares abuse the death of 
 Christ; on that let him look, until his flinty heart is 
 melted with godly fear and his very soul filled with 
 awe. Then he will be prepared to forfeit by the 
 example of penitence and faith, which we have con- 
 templated to-day and to follow it; to embrace the cross 
 of Christ with tears of sorrow and love, and to exclaim, 
 believing, "Lord, remember me !" 
 
 But our time has expired. Our scene draws near 
 to its close. Christ's work on earth is done, his eyes 
 are closed, his limbs cold, his soul has taken her flight. 
 The bones of the two malefactors are broken, the one 
 is gone to follow his Saviour and to proclaim his love 
 to the unnumbered hosts of heaven, and the other ia 
 gone — to his own place. 
 
194 MEDITATIONS^. 
 
 Now for a glance at that precious scene, wfiera 
 Christ entered into the gates of life with the first fruit 
 of his sufferings and to witness the welcome they 
 received. But this must be reserved for another 
 world. If we too repent and believe, we shall soon, 
 see this and all the other glories of heaven, as we are 
 seen, and know them as we are known^ 
 
]\i E D I T A T I O N S 
 
 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 MATTHEW XXVII. 57 — 61. 
 
 ^Vfren the even was como, there eame a rich man of Arimathea, iiamcfl Joseph^, 
 ■who also himaelf was Jesus's disciple: he went to Pilate, and begged the body 
 of Jesus. Then Pilate commanded the body to be delivered. And wiien Joseph 
 had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in his own 
 new tomb, which he litid hewn out in the rock ; and he rolled a great stone to the 
 door of the sepulchre, and departed. And there was Mary Magdalene, and the 
 other Mary, silting over against the sepulchre. 
 
 (Compare Mark xv. 42 — 475 Luke xxiii. 50 — 60 ; John xix. 38 — 42.) 
 
 I. "And it was about the sixth hour, and there- 
 v/as a darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour. 
 And the sun was darkened and the veil of the temple 
 was rent in the midst. And when Jesus had cried with 
 a loud voice, he said, Father, into thy hands I com- 
 mend my spirit; and foaving said thus, he gave up the 
 ghost." (Luke xxiii, 44 — 46.) About three o'clock 
 in the afternoon — a significant, mysterious hour — the 
 daily evening sacrifice used to he offered up before? 
 
196 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 the tabernacle of Jehovah in the wilderness; about 
 three o'clock the Paschal lamb used to be slain; about 
 three o'clock the great alarming sacrifice for our sins 
 was made by the death of Jesus Christ; and the true 
 Paschal lamb thus prepared for all who long to leave 
 the Egyptian darkness of human reason and the 
 Egyptian slavery of sin and of human works for salva- 
 tion, that they may go out into the light and liberty of 
 the children of God. The great work was done. After 
 three o'clock, the miraculous darkness which had com- 
 menced at noon passed away from the face of the 
 earth. The soldiers hastened to return to their abode 
 and the Jews to finish their preparntions for the Passover. 
 Jesus was dead, the battle was fought, the victory won. 
 Their rage was spent, though not their malice. They 
 left the body of Christ, either to the impure hands of 
 the soldiery, intending that it should rot unburied 
 according to the Roman usage, or what is more likely, 
 they committed it to some servants to throw it with 
 the bodies of the other malefactors into a hole dug in 
 some impure place, that the law (Deuteronomy xxi, 23) 
 might not be broken. And here a difficult passage in 
 Isaiah liii. receives light and its true constructioUy 
 which our English version does not exhibit. In the 
 9th verse of that chapter, it is said, "And he made his 
 grave with the wicked and with the rich in his death; 
 because he had done no violence, neither was any 
 deceit in his mouth." Here the most common reader 
 is likely to be struck with the thought, that Christ, the 
 eubject of the verse and chapter in question, did not 
 make his grave with the wicked^ nor was he with the> 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 197 
 
 rich in his death. Rather contrariwise. He was in 
 his death with the wicked, and made his grave with 
 the rich, or better, a rich one. But a true and ac u- 
 rate translation of the passage, which is supported by 
 the strongest arguments, even aside from the fulfil- 
 ment, would run thus: "They gave (appointed or 
 ordered) his grave with the wicked ones (plur.), and 
 with a rich one (sing.) he was in (or after) his death 
 (or deaths) : though he had done no violence, neither 
 had been deceit in his mouth." 
 
 Thus this remarkable prediction has found its accu- 
 rate fulfilment, and the hand of Providence is clearly 
 discernible in the whole transaction of the burial of 
 Christ. Though he had done no wrong, and no sinful 
 word had ever been uttered by him; his relentless 
 enemies destroyed him, and intended to abuse even his 
 dead body by giving it an ignominious burial among 
 out-laws, and perhaps even among the carcases of 
 brutes. But when the great object of Christ's death 
 was attained, and the debt of the world paid, God 
 interposed, and his beloved and innocent Son was hon- 
 ored with a distinguished burial, and a clean and hon- 
 orable sepulchre ; and a sepulchre, too, which was fitted 
 to answer some other purposes of the highest impor- 
 tance, as the history of our Lord's resurrection shows. 
 
 Thus does our heavenly Father know how to pre- 
 serve from undeserved shame and blame those that are 
 his. They are the apple of his eye, and their character 
 is as dear and sacred to him, as his character is to 
 them; he will save it at last, by the right hand of his 
 omnipotence ; and those who trust in him shall never 
 be confounded. It is both the characteristic and the 
 
198 MEDlTATiaNS. 
 
 privilege of the true Christian, to seek the glory and 
 the interests of God and of his kingdom, and to seek 
 nothing else; and to leave his own character, and his 
 own interests, however pure and sacred they may be, 
 with him whose all-seeing eye follows him at every step, 
 and whose unalterable character and promises are 
 the unfailing guarantee that truth and innocence will 
 conquer at last. O what a mean pursuit, what a 
 desperate undertaking to seek one's own honor and 
 advantage ! To seek advantage and honor on an area 
 where we meet with competitors without number, with 
 a few stoics, it may be, as supercilious spectators, and 
 with every wild beast and every subtile serpent in 
 human shape, as the arbiters of the contest. Where 
 all are contending for ail, each craving everything, 
 will you dream of getting it .'' It is like seeking food 
 in the lion^s den; the moment you seize hold of it, the 
 monster will tear you to pieces. And what if you 
 should get it, what will it be ? The only way to find 
 and secure our interests, is to promote the interests of 
 God and his cause; the only path to true honor, is to 
 seek the honor of God; the only way to preserve our 
 characters unsoiled, is to do and suffer the will of our 
 Father, and to commend our cause to him. 
 
 I do not intend to say that we must always keep 
 silence at the calumnies of the wicked. The good of 
 our fellow-men, and the prosperity of the cause of 
 Christ are often identified with our characters. When- 
 ever this is the case, we are not the only sufferers, not 
 perhaps the chief sufferers under the attacks of the 
 enemies of truth and innocence; and in opposing truth 
 to falsehood, and correcting meekly the wrong impres" 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 199 
 
 sions which the slanderer may have made upon unin- 
 formed and unsuspectinaj men, we do not defend our- 
 selves, but those who suffer with, or by us, or for our 
 sakes. Indeed, the true Christian suffers not at all 
 when he is calumniated, despised and cast out as vile, 
 either by the world, or by mistaken and prejudiced 
 Christians. He has no character to save before the 
 world; he has no interests to secure on earth; and his 
 character before God and his interests in Heaven, 
 what man on earth, what evil spirit in hell, yea I say 
 boldly, what angel in heaven will ever be able to 
 touch or injure that ? Rob him, beat him, revile him, 
 kill him, — or if you please, honor him, enrich him, 
 praise him, worship him, — it is all one thing to him. 
 You can make him neither poor nor rich, neither 
 happy nor wretched; and if he has any choice^ he will 
 for his own safety choose poverty rather than wealth, 
 and neglect rather than honor: lest he should forget 
 his heavenly inheritance and call, and become unlike 
 to his Lord. He knows that his Redeemer liveth, and 
 the triumphant song, " O death where is thy sting? O 
 grave where is thy victory?" is his crown, his king- 
 dom, his boast, his source of ever-flowing comfort and 
 delight. Who will harm him? What has he to jiain, 
 yet, who has gained heaven? What has he to fear 
 who knows it is impossible he should lose heaven? 
 Nothing, absolutely nothing! Ten thousand worlds of 
 enraged devils will gnash their teeth at him in vain; 
 for God is his portion forever. Only then, when others 
 would suffer on his account he will open his mouth 
 while there is hope that it may do good. So did Christ 
 defend his own character against the Jews time and 
 
200 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 again. So did Paul speak " foolishly" to the Corin- 
 thians, lest his apostolic character should suffer, and 
 millions in every age should lose the benefit of his 
 inspired writings, and perish. So did Svvartz defend 
 his own innocence, lest the hand of Christian benevo- 
 lence should be withdrawn from perishing Hindoostan. 
 So, a few years ago, did a good and humble Christian, 
 in a superstitious and despotic country on this continent, 
 3xpose vile slanderers by telling his plain story, lest 
 many of his innocent friends should be crushed under 
 he heel of an unrighteous and mighty inquisition. 
 Then, and only then, the Christian will speak and act, 
 seemingly for himself and unwillingly too, to save 
 others from harm. But where he stands alone with 
 his interests and character as a Christian, he will suffer, 
 and his meekness will prove an irresistible weapon and 
 a wall not to be scaled; his cause will triumph, and 
 heaven shall know, and often the world, too, that he is 
 beloved of God and the heir of unfading glory. What 
 will you do with a man who, commending his cause to 
 God, defends himself no more? Will you attack him? 
 So you may. And so may any wild beast. In so doing 
 you can only disgrace and injure yourself, and at last 
 God will arise in his behalf, save and honor him, and 
 cover you with well-deserved reproach and shame. 
 
 Thus it came to pass here even in the mere exter- 
 nals of the burial of Christ, The innocent and defence- 
 less Lamb of God, now slain by wicked hands, and 
 cold, was to be buried with the burial of a thief, or a 
 brute, and vile hirelings were already preparing to do 
 their accursed work — when God appeared. For — 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 201 
 
 II. "When the evening was come, there came a 
 rich man of Arimathea, named Joseph," (Matthew.) 
 Mark calls him " an honorable councellor, i. e. a 
 councellor of the Sanhedrim, who also waited for a 
 kingdom of God; Matthew, "a disciple of Jesus;" 
 John, "a secret disciple for fear of the Jews;" 
 and Luke calls him " a good man and a just," who 
 had not consented to the counsel and deed of the Jews 
 in the murder of Christ, He went in to Pilate, and 
 did, — what was indeed often done by the relatives of 
 a criminal, but was highly unpopular and perilous for 
 him in this instance — he begged for the body of Jesus. 
 "Boldly" he went in, says Mark, not intending to 
 indicate thereby the manner in which Joseph petitioned, 
 but the peril he encountered by doing so; as if we 
 should say, he ventured in, he dared to ask for the body 
 of Jesus, Mary, the mother of Jesus, and his relatives 
 had a natural right to claim his dead body; John was a 
 favorite and a relative to the high priest; many wealthy 
 and influential individuals of either sex, who were 
 favorable to our Lord, were in Jerusalem at this time; 
 the fact of his having been crucified was now known 
 throughout the whole city, and the burial — they knew 
 what it would be. But so great was the terror struck 
 into all the friends of Christ, such was the danger of 
 the undertaking to rescue even his dead body, and so 
 small the prospect of success, that none of them all 
 seemed to rise to the conception of approaching Pilate 
 with a request to this effect. Joseph ventured in. 
 And what pious heart that saw him draw near to the 
 governor's palace, knock at the massy gate, and enter 
 in, would not have wished him God speed, and send 
 18 
 
202 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 up to Heaven the ardent petition that God might give 
 him " mouth and utterance" and crown him with 
 success! And with success he was crowned. " Pilate 
 commanded the body to be delivered," and Joseph pro- 
 ceeded with happy steps to Calvary, to attend to the 
 melancholy duty before the sun should set. 
 
 Joseph is an example of piety at court, and of friend- 
 ship and faithfulness in distress. A councellor of the 
 Sanhedrim at Jerusalem, at the time of Christ — what 
 situation could there be more unfavorable to godliness 
 than his? His lot had fallen into evil days. The 
 powerful influence of a corrupt generation, and a 
 selfish and reprobated clan of priests was naturally 
 carrying him down to ruin. What dangers were 
 clustering around piety with him! He was rich. He 
 was honorable, or respected. He held an office. He 
 had much of this world's good things to lose; and what 
 more effectual way to injury and loss could he pursue 
 than that of professing an attachment to the hated 
 Jesus, who now hung lifeless on the accursed tree.'* 
 He take down from the cross the Nazarene and bury 
 him in his own grave — how could he ever take his 
 seat again in the stately Sanhedrim! How lift up his 
 blushing countenance before the highpriest and his 
 father-in-law! What could he answer to the pointed 
 and malicious remarks which would meet him in every 
 circle of the great and the rich at Jerusalem! How 
 must his family have been ashamed of the degrading 
 act! The very boys in the street would hardly fail to 
 point at him as he passed, and to whisper in his hear- 
 ing, Nazarene, Galileean! At the court of Herod, 
 too, his influence was now gone; and what idea could 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 203 
 
 the Roman governor henceforth have of a man, who, 
 with all his advantages and opportunities for intellec- 
 tual improvement, turned out to be the most devoted of 
 all the deluded simple devotees of the fanciful and 
 eccentric young Rabbi of Nazareth, who had just 
 been crucified? These and a hundred other consid- 
 erations, however, did not shake the mind of Joseph. 
 He had independence enough to be what he was. 
 But he had none of the bravery, which is so high in 
 the market among the young, the bright, the rich, the 
 literary of our refined and civilized age — the bravery 
 to oppose God and despise Christ. Yet had he a kind 
 of courage which they in their turn have not; that of 
 braving the great world, of encountering the loss of 
 wealth and honor, and of following conscience and 
 good sense. He may have lacked the refinement and 
 the reading of many a courtier of Herod; but he knew 
 what they knew not; he knew how to think, reflect, 
 feel, pray, choose, act, and suffer if necessary, for 
 righteousness' sake. He was no mathematician, no 
 eclectic philosopher, like Pilate; but he was, what 
 Pilate was uot, the friend and benefactor of innocence 
 at the gallows. 
 
 It is a vain excuse of many among the great, and 
 one by which they pay no compliment to their own 
 principles and character, that their situation does not 
 permit them to be pious. Indeed! If this be true, 
 then be a man, and leave your iniquitous employment 
 which keeps you from serving God. Draw out the 
 serpent from your bosom! Spit out the poison from 
 your mouth! Crush the spark of perdition that 
 has settled in the folds of your garment! Your 
 
204 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 situation does not permit you to be pious! A fine 
 excuse! It will answer for every thief and highway 
 robber, for every profane stage actor, and every harlot 
 about town. Their situation, too, will not permit them 
 to serve God. But mark it, your excuse is a vain one. 
 You cannot serve God, because you are rich, because 
 you have an office, because you are at court, because 
 you are in the army. Moses was even brought up at 
 the court of Egypt; Obadiah was the first man at 
 Ahab's court; Daniel was a Babylonian prince; David, 
 Josiah, and others, were kings; the centurion in the 
 gospel and Cornelius were officers of a heathen army; 
 Joseph of Arimathea was a rich man and an honorable 
 councellor. But they were all pious men, and knew 
 how to serve God in the situation in which they were. 
 But 1 cannot dismiss this part of our meditation with- 
 out one glance at least into heaven, to consider with 
 what joy and humble gratitude the heart of Joseph must 
 have been filled, when, arriving at the court above, 
 he saw to whom he had ministered at that gloomy and 
 distressful day, when both the malice and the darkness 
 of the pit seemed to be poured upon Jerui^alem. Then 
 he thought he served a holy, innocent man, — after- 
 wards faith taught him to whom he had ministered, — 
 but now he smv, and behold he was " the Word made 
 flesh." He was burying a suffering brother, he 
 thought; and behold, he sees him now at the right 
 hand of God, having an everlasting kingdom, and 
 being surrounded with the worshipping hosts of 
 heaven! And what a source of rejoicing must it be 
 to him now! What in a hundred, in a thousand, in 
 millions of years! What throughout eternity! Well 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 20o 
 
 might a holy envy kindle up in our hearts, that ice did 
 not live then, to bury Christ or to do some small service 
 towards it. All these opportunities to serve Chris 
 while he was on earth seem now to be so Jiiany blessed 
 monopolies, the privileges of a few favored ones, and 
 we could almost sit down and weep that we live at the 
 melancholy distance of eighteen centuries from that 
 bright spot in the history of our planet, when the Lord 
 of glory paid his incognito visit to it, and received a few 
 services ignorantly done to him by a few good people. 
 But, my friends, weep not. Let not envy tempt you. 
 There is no occasion for. it. Do you want to serve 
 Christ ? You can do this now. Serve him in the temple 
 of your mind. And if particular external services may 
 yield you any special comfort, behold, here are the mem- 
 bers of his body, his children, his beloved ones: what 
 you do to the least of them, you do to him, he has said. 
 Behold, here is a world of perishing souls, purchased 
 by his blood. Lead them to him, and it will be a 
 more important and v/elcome service to him, than if 
 you buried him in a tomb hewn in one solid diamond. 
 
 in. We now meet with another good man: "and 
 there came also Nicodemus, who at the first came to 
 Jesus by night, and brought a mixture of myrrh and 
 aloes about an hundred pound weight." (John.) 
 What myrrh is, we all know. The aloes are not the 
 plant of that name, from which we obtain a bitter juice, 
 but an aromatic tree, the wood of which was used 
 (probably reduced to powder) on occasions like 
 ours. An hundred pounds are none too much^ 
 as many have thought; for such substances were 
 
^06 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 consumed almost to any extent, according to the 
 ability of the family. At Herod's burial, five hundred 
 servants bearing ointments walked in the train, as 
 Josephus relates. Part of the aloe vi^ood was probably 
 intended to be burned in the tomb, to produce its 
 odor. 
 
 Nicodemus must have been where he observed the 
 whole train of events on that day, else he could not 
 have been present at the fleeting, hurried moment when 
 Joseph was burying our Lord. But more. If he did 
 not enter into a common plan with Joseph to share in 
 that work of love, he must have watched him, as he 
 went from Calvary to the governor's house. For 
 how could he have had his myrrh and aloes ready other- 
 wise ? Such things were not kept in the dispensaries 
 of families in such quantities, but needed to be pur- 
 chased from the drujjsist. At all events, he must 
 have been ready, as soon as Pilate's permission to 
 bury Christ was obtained, to set out for the purchase; 
 and while Joseph of Arimathea, John and the three 
 women who persevered with the Lord, took him down 
 from the cross, to carry him to his tomb, Nicodemus 
 must have made the purchase and met them in the 
 garden of Joseph. They must have knovrn, too, that 
 he would come; for they themselves procured nothing 
 of this kind, evidently relying on him. A lovely band 
 of pious souls of very different callings and habits; but 
 united by the bond of perfectness — that bond which 
 is stronojest in distress — and engao-ed with one heart 
 and mind in the service of their common Lord. 
 
 John iii: Nicodemus comes to Christ by night from 
 fear of the Jews, and finds it very hard to understand 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 207 
 
 the great doctrine of regeneration. Chapter vii: he 
 is present at a furious meeting of the Sanhedrim, ven- 
 tures a tremhhng remark against their unlawful pro- 
 ceedings in reference to Christ, and is so put down and 
 silenced, that we really are led to fear he will never 
 open his mouth again. And, behold, here we meet 
 him all at once among the most faithful, liberal and 
 persevering friends of Christ. 
 
 There is not a more lovely example than this of the 
 power of God "made perfect in meekness." Poor 
 Nicodemus, how full he was by nature of unbelieving 
 fears! All the time of our -Lord's ministry he durst not 
 come out boldly and openly. O the high priest, and 
 his sacred office, and his mighty family! O the for- 
 midable army of the Sanhedrim! O the popular 
 pharisees and scribes! O the synagogue, the excom- 
 munication! O the scoffing world! and perhaps even, 
 my brothers, iny sisters, yea, my wife, my children. 
 What black clouds, big with destruction; what 
 insurmountable barriers to open piety, to that unpop- 
 ular outcast profession, which is the only one that 
 makes men miserable in this world! How he would 
 have loved to hear Christ! But, to go with those who 
 went to mock and to dispute, his heart did not permit 
 him. And to mingle with the pious, to hear Jesus 
 preach and teach, and to look devotional and serious 
 as indeed he was, — why, he would have sunk into 
 the ground, if old Annas or Caiaphas had overcharged 
 him with this high treason against the synagogue. One 
 dark night, late, he wraps his face into his cloak to 
 visit that lovely, attractive young Rabbi, who seemed 
 to turn the world upside down. Nobody v/as to know 
 
208 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 it, and who can tell what white lie the poor man ma/ 
 have told, as he slipt down stairs or out of his house, 
 when his unbelieving wife or children asked him v/here 
 he was going so late and in such darkness without a 
 lantern; for you may depend upon it, he took none 
 with him. In the young Rabbi's chamber he heard 
 strange things of a new birth, a spiritual birth, a 
 spiritual kingdom, and a hundred other things equally 
 mysterious and interesting. O how he abhorred now 
 the childish, crazy casuistry of their corrupt traditions. 
 Here is religion, here is eternal life, if anywhere, he 
 thought. Here let me build a tabernacle. But no; 
 he must go home. And there, alas! he meets again 
 his scolding wife, his distracted son, his worldly- 
 minded daughter, his thoughtless relatives. In the 
 morning he is perhaps called to the high-priest and 
 received with great cordiality and paternal affection; 
 he hears one bad story after another about Christ; on 
 the table lies written upon parchment, in broad charac- 
 ters, the awful curse upon every one who should profess 
 Christ to be the Messiah. A resistless tide carries him 
 down again into doubt, fear, unbelief and weakness. 
 Once more, when he is an eye and ear witness of the 
 iniquitous, lawless spirit of the Sanhedrim, he rises and 
 speaks a word, but alas! a flood of contumelies and 
 menaces overwhelms him and sweeps away all his 
 courage. But when all his own courage v/as sv/ept 
 away, then came that courage which is from above. 
 When his own strength was all spent, then the power 
 of God was made perfect in him. 
 
 Nor is this strange. The work of God in us begins 
 where ours ceases. " When I am weak, then am i 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 209 
 
 strong," says Paul, and if there be anything para- 
 doxical to reason, it is this saying. But in the spiritual 
 life of the Christian, it has its root struck through and 
 through, and its most profound and important meaning. 
 While we are strong in ourselves, there is no hope for 
 us. But when the lamentation, "Lord save us, or we 
 perish!" bursts out from our distressed and melting 
 hearts, then the day begins to dawn. Why, the very 
 seeds must rot before they can bud; and intellectually 
 even a man must absolutely feel his need of instruc- 
 tion, before he can receive any to purpose. And it is 
 a fact, God despises all human strength and will not 
 have it. Therefore he breaks the bones of the lien 
 and flings him aside into the field to rot, and then, 
 after a little while, meat comes forth from the eater, 
 and sweetness from the strong. 
 
 Rejoice, therefore, ye weak ones! You are the 
 vessels of divine grace, and the instruments of God. 
 If any mountains are to be removed, you vvill remove 
 them; if any Goliah is to be slain, he shall fall by your 
 hands. Yea, more. The hands of the strong ones 
 shall droop nerveless, and they themselves shall sink 
 and perish; but your weak hand shall renew their 
 strength and hold on to the cross througli life and 
 death, till you awake in the bosom of your Saviour. 
 O that we had many Nicodemuses about us, weak, poor 
 sinners! But alas! they are all strong like Annas and 
 Caiaphas, they are all wise like Pilate, and great and 
 rich like Herod, and if Christ, the poor, pious, carpen- 
 ter's son, the blameless but hated sectarian, was to be 
 buried to-day, this whole city would probably furnish 
 precious few Josephs, Nicodemuses, and Marys. And 
 should we be among them, my friends? 
 
210 MED1TAT1V..N5. j 
 
 IV. Jerusalem was surrounded with gardens. One 
 of them, belonging to Joseph, w^as situated near the 
 place where Christ was executed. The whole district 
 of Jerusalem is rocky. The lime-stone of which it 
 consists becomes harder as one descends, but is soft 
 when situated high. In one of these rocks belonging 
 to Joseph's garden, he had caused his own intended 
 sepulchre to be cut out according to the existing 
 custom, and a large stone slab was also prepared to 
 guard the entrance. No corpse had ever been depos- 
 ited there. Here Christ was to rest. They intended 
 to give him a grave among the wicked; but with a rich 
 and honorable man was he after his death. Nicodemus 
 was at hand with his spices. Joseph had bought some 
 fine linen to wrap up the body with a part of the spices 
 of Nicodemus. Perhaps the linen was made into a 
 long gown, for the word indicates both. Around his 
 head they wound a napkin. It must now have been 
 late. John, and Mary the mother of Christ, are not 
 present. They seem to have returned as soon as they 
 knew where the corps was to be carried. Poor Mary! 
 she was already advanced in years and must have 
 suiTered much that day! As soon as she knew the body 
 of her beloved son was in the hands of friends, w ho 
 were to keep it till, after the feast, the formal burial 
 could be attended to, she seems to have been prevailed 
 upon to return home with John, whose mother she had 
 become. We find, therefore, only Joseph, Nicodemus, 
 Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of Joses at the 
 sepulchre. Hastily they now deposited the body of 
 Christ there, because of the Jevvs' preparation; for the 
 sepulchre was nigh at hand. And they rolled the 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 211 
 
 stone unto the door of the sepulchre, and departed. 
 Here finishes the history of our Lord's burial. 
 
 Ideas can be written down and objects can be 
 painted, but emotions yield neither to the pen nor to 
 the brush. Every one must experience for himself 
 what it is to spend a solitary hour in the solemn sep- 
 ulchre of Christ. Gethsemane and Calvary are awful 
 places. The one will melt you down with fear and 
 fluctuating hope, the other with love and gratitude 
 and sorrow. But the scenes there, are almost too 
 tremendous; the emotions which storm through your 
 breast overmatch you; deep calls upon deep; Jehovah 
 is passing by, in storm, earthquake and fire, and your 
 thoughts are swallowed up before they ripen. Yet 
 these are truly precious exercises to the dead, para- 
 lysed soul of fallen man, and the very strokes of the 
 electricity of heaven. But when you are awakened, 
 terrified, warned, quickened, melted there, then, O 
 then come, sit down in the cool, dusky sepulchre of 
 Jesus; shut out the world; gather in every thought; 
 shut the door, and listen to the still small voice of 
 Jehovah. Here, between these silent walls, time and 
 space will vanish, and you will deceive yourself no 
 more with ideas of great and small, and with fair 
 promises of futurities that never come; but as the 
 starry, boundless firmament falls whole into your little 
 eye at even, so shall eternity fall into your soul. Here, 
 the storm of sins, passions, wishes, duties and idle 
 sorrows and idle joys will cease to roar; a deep calm 
 will follow, and the unexplored ocean of your mind 
 will reflect the countenance of heaven. O, it is a 
 good, it is an awful place! But if the place is on'; fil 
 
212 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 for solemn reflection, the scene is infinitely more so. 
 Your sepulchre is not emptj. But one step from you 
 there lies a corps, there shines a pale and lifeless coun- 
 tenance that speaks worlds. Who is it? Who? A 
 youth — an innocent, a holy youth! Ah, more than 
 that, more than language can express. Why did he die 
 so soon? How did he die? For whom? Down with 
 your face upon the cold, damp stone, and answer, — 
 answer! He was martyred to death, his soul is gone, 
 and where? — To heaven, to prepare a place for you. 
 For me? Yes, for you, sinner, poor, perishing sinner, 
 for you! O love divine! thou art almighty; thou hast 
 conquered; I am forever thine! Amen, so he it! 
 Look into his face; it is yet full of love. The features 
 of other dead men, though sinners and selfish, smile, 
 as though even their departing spirits wished to leave 
 the expression of kindness upon the clay which they 
 inhabited. Here is the countenance of love, of divine 
 benevolence itself Have you no emotion, no tear of 
 pious gratitude for him? Impossible! Where is the 
 monster of a son that can stare insensibly on the pale 
 face of his father's corps? Where the serpent of a 
 daughter that can turn away with a dry eye from her 
 lifeless mother's smile? Where is the stout-hearted, 
 unnatural parent, who can nail up the coffin of his 
 offspring without a falling tear? Here is more than 
 father, more than mother, son, or daughter. Here is 
 "the Word" "made flesh," the Son of God, the 
 Saviour, the almighty, faithful friend of your perishing 
 soul; here he is murdered innocently, that you, his 
 murderer, you, the murderer of your own soul and of 
 the souls of many others, might live. 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHR ST. 2l3 
 
 But I have said it, emotions are not expressible by 
 words. The feelings which the calm devout contem- 
 plation of the " man of sorrows" kindles in the heart, 
 are sealed like the seven mysterious thunders of the 
 apocalypse; they must be felt. It is but folly to Herod, 
 the worldling, if he hears us talk of the beauties of 
 Jesus's bleeding head, of that closed eye, those pale 
 lips, those cold cheeks, the prints of those nails and the 
 deep wound in his side. It is grievous to Caiaphas, 
 the self-righteous casuist and moralist, to hear of the 
 dying love of Christ to sinners. The story of the 
 gospel is nonsense to Pilate, the wise man of this 
 world. Away with them, and the profane crowd that 
 follows them in every age ; away with them from the 
 sepulchre of Christ. But let the thinking, reflecting, 
 the poor, the humble come, and let their meditations 
 be undisturbed. Heaven's gate is open while they 
 dwell in the silent cave. Jesus is there, and this is 
 enough. 
 
 But while in this changing world, they cannot always 
 remain at the delightful spot which we have visited to- 
 day. Duty calls them out, and they follow; but as 
 they go out they take Christ with them, and often, 
 while externally employed in secular works, their heart, 
 their spirit ever and anon breathes the spicy atmos- 
 phere of the sacred tomb. " All the thoughts and 
 exercises of my mind," says a certain devout man, 
 *' are employed in the tomb of Jesus. He is dead, I 
 die with him. To please him, I will mortify my sinful 
 flesh. All my desires and lusts will I take captive. 
 I will bury them in his grave. Never shall they rule 
 again in me. His death shall be my life. l£ I die 
 19 
 
1214 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 with him, I shall also live with him. I will wet his 
 grave with tears of penitence. My heart shall be the 
 fine clean linen into which I will wrap him. Thus 
 will his sufferings bless my soul. I will seal up his 
 remembrance in my heart. Love shall be the seal. 
 When I die, I shall die in his arms. Delightful rest 
 shall I enjoy there. His shroud shall be my orna- 
 ment; his coffin my grave." 
 
 O my friends, we must die with Christ, we must be 
 buried with him, or we shall never rise, never live, 
 never reign with him. To die to the world, to die to 
 ourselves, — O it is a great lesson! But, if the sacred 
 word before us, and if all the laws of the universe and 
 the deep and silent warnings and groanings of con- 
 science, are not so many lies, then it is the only way 
 yet open for us to escape the eternal terrors of the 
 second death. Only he who dies with Christ may like 
 him boldly march up to the king of terrors with the 
 triumphant song in his mouth, O death, where is thy 
 sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Amen. 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 X. 
 
 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 MATTHEW XXVIII, ]— 15. 
 MARK XVI, 1 — 11; LUKE XXIV, 1 — 1-2; JOHN XX, 1 — 18. 
 
 In tlie end of the sabbath, as it began to dawn towards tho first day of the 
 week, came Mary Magdalene and the other Mary to sec the sepulchre. And be- 
 hold, there was a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord descended from 
 heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it. His 
 countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow. And for fear of 
 him, the keepers did shake,, and became as dead men. And the angel answered 
 and said unto the women, Fear not ye ; for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was 
 crucified. He is not here ; for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where 
 the Lord lay ; and go quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the 
 dead ; and behold, he goeth before you into Galilee ; there shall ye see him ; lo, I 
 have told you. And they departed quickly from the sepulchre with fear and great 
 joy, and did run to bring his disciples word. And as they went to tell his disci- 
 ples, behol.l, Jesus met them, saying, All hail. Ami they came and held him by 
 his feet, and worshipped him. Then said Jesus unto them. Be not afraid : go tell 
 my brethren, that they go into Galilee, and there shall they see me. Now when 
 they were going, behold, some of the watch came into the city, and shewed unto 
 the chief priests all the things tliat were done. And when they were assem- 
 bled with the eldorS; and had taken counsel, they gave large money unto the sol- 
 
216 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 diers, saying, Saj' ye; His disciples came by night, and stole him away while we 
 slept. And if this come to the governor's ears, we will persuade him, and secure 
 you. So they took the money, and did as they were taught ; and this saying is 
 commonly reported among the Jews until this day. 
 
 And when the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of 
 James and Salome, had bought sweet spices, that they might come and anoint 
 him. And very early in tlie morning, tlie first day of the week, they came unto 
 the sepulchre at the rising of tlte sun. And thr-y said among themselves, Who 
 shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulchre ? And when they 
 looked, they saw that the stone was rolled away ; for it was very great. And en- 
 tering into the sepulchre, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, clothed 
 in a long white garment; and they were affiighted. And he saith unto them, Be 
 not aifrighted. Ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, which was crucified : he is risr n j he is 
 not here : behold the place where they laid him. But go your way, tell his disci- 
 ples and Peter, that he goeth before you into Galilee ; there shall ye see him, as 
 he said unto you. And they went out quickly, and fled from the sepulchre ; for 
 they trembled, and were amazed ; neither said they anything to any man ; for 
 they were afraid. Now when Jesus was* risen early, the first day of the week, he 
 appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom ho had cast seven de^-ils. And 
 she went and told them that had been with him, as they mourned and wept. And 
 they, when they had heard that he was alive, and had been seen of her, be- 
 lieved not. 
 
 Now upon the first day of the week, very early in the morning, they came unto 
 the sepulchre, brin£iing the spices which they had prepared, and certain others 
 with them. And they found the stone rolled away fiom the sepulchre. And they 
 entered in, and found not the body of the Lord Jesus. And it came to pass, aa 
 they were much perplexed thereabout, behold, two men stood by them in shining 
 garments: And as they were afraid, and bowed down tiieir faces to the earth, they 
 said unto them, Why seek ye the living among the dead ? He is not here, but is 
 risen ; remember how he spake unto you when he was yet in Galilee, saying. The 
 Son of man must be flelivcred into the hands oi sinful men, and be crucified, and 
 the third day rise again. And they remembered his words, and returned from the 
 sepulchre, and told all these things unto the eleven, and to all the. rest. It was 
 Mary Magdalene, and Joanna, and Mary the mother of James, and other women 
 that were with them, which told these things unto iheapostles. And their words 
 seemed to them as idle tales, and they believed them not. Then arose Peter, and 
 ran unto the sepulchre; and stoo|)ing down, he beheld the linen clothes laid by 
 themselves, and departed, wondering in himself at that which was come to pass. 
 
 The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, 
 unto the sepulchre, and seeth the stone taken away from the sepulchre. Then 
 she runneth, and cometh to Simon Peter, and to the other disciple whom Jesus 
 loved, and saith unto them, 'I'hey have taken away the Lord out of the sepulchre, 
 and we know not where they have laid him. Peter therefore went forth, and that 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 217 
 
 other disciple, and came to the sepulchre. So they ran both together, and the 
 other discijile did outrun Peter, and came first to the sepulchre. And he, stoop- 
 ing down, and looking in, saw the linen clothes lying ; yet went he not in. Then 
 Cometh Simon Peter following liim, and went into the sepulchre, and seeth the 
 linen clothes lie, and the napkin that was about his head not lying with the linen 
 clothes, but wrapped together in a place by itsf^lf. Then went in also that other 
 disciple, which came first to the sepulchre, and he saw, and believed. For as yet 
 tiiey knew not the scripture, that he must rise again from the dead. Then the 
 disciples w^ent away again unto their own home. But Mary stood without at the 
 sepulchre, weeping: and, as she wept, she stooped down, and looked into the sep 
 ulchre, and seeth two angels in white, sitting, the one at the head, the other at 
 the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. And they say unto her> Woman, why 
 weepest thou ? She saith unto them, Because they have taken away my Lord, 
 and f know not where they have laid him. And when she had thus said, she 
 turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. 
 Jesus sailh unto her, Woman, wliy weepest thou.'' whom seekrest thou ? She, 
 supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him. Sir, if thou have borne him 
 hence, tell me where thou ha^t laid him, and I will take him away. Jesus saith 
 unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni ; which is to 
 say, Master. Jesus saith unto her. Touch me not ; for I am not yet ascended to 
 my Father: but go to my brethren, and say unto them, f ascend unto my Father, 
 and your Father ; and to my God, and your God. Mary Magdalene came and told 
 the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that he had spoken these things 
 unto her. 
 
 The history of our Lord's resurrection from the dead 
 forms the second part of the general subject upon 
 which our series of discourses treats. It is also the 
 shorter part. For, although the former occupied only 
 the space of six days, while this covers forty days, so 
 few of the events of this period are recorded, that it 
 seems hardly to compare with the last week of our 
 Lord's mortal life, if you number the scenes or 
 regard the particularity with which the attending cir- 
 cumstances are stated. I call this the second part, 
 because the nature of our scene has changed, almost 
 throughout, and in many respects from one pole to the 
 other. Thus far, the picture was full of gloom. Satan 
 went on from victory to victory. Christ wept even at 
 19* 
 
218 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 his triumphant entrance into the holy city; and what 
 he endured at the institution of the sacrament amid the 
 contentions of his disciples for preeminence, and from 
 the anticipation of his separation from them, and what 
 he suffered at Gethsemane, before the Sanhedrim, 
 before Pilate, before Herod and his court, in the judg- 
 ment hall, under "the horrible whip" of the Roman 
 soldiers, before the raging mob, and on Golgotha, we 
 have seen successively. We have, I trust, mourned 
 and suffered with him, and that for our good. As his 
 last hour approached, we heard him praying in the 
 midst of wrongs, comfort others, while himself dis- 
 tressed, we saw him save others, while he was sur- 
 sounded with death ; then, overwhelmed with the 
 terrors of convulsed nature and still more with the 
 sins of a world, the penalties of a broken law, and the 
 awful darkness spread over his Father's countenance, 
 we saw him almost despair; we saw him struggle, 
 conquer, pray again, and die for us: and the mingled 
 and changing emotions of our breasts were as when 
 the stormy wind rolls up clouds on the horizon, arid 
 piles and towers them up as though an eternal and 
 heaven-high wall was to be fixed, to shut out light and 
 life from us forever. Here and there indeed a ray 
 shot through, and the storm defeating its own purpose, 
 unveiled now and then the pure sky, and by its own 
 gloom set forth the loveliness of its color: yet, on the 
 whole, the element about us was full of frown and 
 thunder ; and had this scene lasted forever, existence 
 would have been a burden. By and by, however, the 
 clouds passed, the storm ceased howling, Jesus slept 
 and rested beyond the reach of the world and of Satan. 
 
THE GREAT MORNINO. 219 
 
 We buried him among loving friends; we saw the tear 
 of affection shed ; and the meditations, to which we 
 attended in his solemn and silent grave, were, I trust, 
 sweet and profitable to us. Now, the sun is about to 
 rise. The cock has crowed time and again. Already 
 the light glimmers in the east. Pious women, here and 
 there in the slumbering citj, prepare their spices and 
 ointments to visit the sacred grave; and we are called 
 to accompany them, to share in their work of love, 
 their anxieties, and their joys. What! angels in 
 heaven are preparing once more to descend, and in 
 the bowels of the earth a supernatural power moves 
 once more, to strike its solid pillars, and to shake its 
 deep cast foundation. The poor, forsaken sufferer of 
 Gethseraane and Golgotha takes again the life which 
 he laid down, and all the prerogatives of absolute 
 divinity. Christ prepares to rise. Rise, my soul, 
 with him, and for one hour breathe the atmosphere of 
 the new creation. For thee he died, and, immortal 
 thanks be to him, fo7' thee he rises again. 
 
 The remainder of our task, my friends, is a delight- 
 ful one. Yet, it is no less difficult, interesting, and 
 important, and I approach it with trembling diffidence. 
 It is dijjictdt, because the accounts of evangelists are 
 seemingly irreconcilable, and have been pronounced, 
 boldly and often, to be really so. And we are to re- 
 concile them. It is an interesting task, I say, because 
 the story is an unique one. Christ, whom we have to 
 accompany, to see, to hear, to observe, lives and moves 
 no more in a mortal, but in an immortal body, which, 
 not by miracle, but by nature, is exempt from the laws 
 of matter. Now he is in heaven, now on earth; now 
 
2*20 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 here, now there; he needs no food, but he can take it 
 without prejudice to the spirituality of his frame. We 
 see, as it were, in a glass, yea, in reality what we are in- 
 tended to become. He is altogether the same as before 
 in point of love and kindness, and his plan and his work 
 have not changed: but he acts and speaks with abso- 
 lute authority: and he returns at last to his kingdom 
 in a divine triumph, leaving behind him a church, a 
 preacher of eternal righteousness to every creature, 
 together with the unfailing promises of his Spirit and 
 of his ultimate coming to judge the world in righteous- 
 ness and to renovate heaven and earth. It is an im- 
 portant task, I say, because the resurrection of Christ 
 is the seal of religion, the foundation of every Christ- 
 ian's hope, and the sure pledge of eternal ruin to every 
 despiser of his love. "The task is great and arduous," 
 (I use the words of Augustin) " but God is our help." 
 If he will vouchsafe to me his assistance, (and J think 
 he has often done so during the course of these med- 
 itations) I still anticipate much of divine enjoyment and 
 profit for myself and those who may hear me. 
 
 Our plan will be, or rather remain, simple through 
 the remainder of these discourses. We shall reconcile 
 the evangelists in their accounts of Easter forenoon, 
 where they seem chiefly to disagree— and this will be 
 our task to-day; afterwards we shall dwell in order 
 upon those few apparitions of our Lord, the particulars 
 of which we read in the gospels; and finally, we shall 
 attend to the ascension of Christ and hear his parting 
 command to us, and his parting promise. " And this 
 we will do if God permit " 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 221 
 
 To prevent all misunderstanding in our meditation 
 to-day, I must premise two remarks. 
 
 We shall in this instance find time only for the 
 exhibition of a connected and continuous account of 
 the events of the forenoon after our Lord's resurrection, 
 without being able to show at every step, how this 
 arrangement is the. preferable one, ivhy this harmony of 
 the four evangelists is satisfactory. This my hearers 
 may easily do themselves, if they will just take the 
 trouble to read and compare those short portions of 
 scripture which I have taken for my text. But to 
 succeed in their examination of the consistency of 
 which I shall state, they must keep in view, that there 
 are various ways of relating facts, of which the evan- 
 gelists make use just like other men, 
 
 I remark, therefore, first, that there are three differ- 
 ent methods of relating; — (a.) the proper chronological 
 method, i. e. that of relating the several facts of the his- 
 tory of a nation, or a century, or a man, more or less 
 selected and abridged, but each in its place and order 
 of time: (ft.) the particular, or disconnecting method, if 
 you permit me to call it so, i. e. that which takes one fact 
 out of a larger number, and gives it in its details with- 
 out connecting it before or after with the adjoining 
 events. All anecdotes are of this kind. Of such facts 
 John has given us a number in his gospel, and espe- 
 cially in the history of our Lord's resurrection: (c.)the 
 collective method, i. e. that which takes similar events 
 and circumstances together and gives them to us with- 
 out any reference to order or time, intending merely 
 to state facts. Thus the three first evangelists state 
 that females went out early to the sepulchre, merely 
 
222 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 because it was a fact that some females did go out, 
 though not at the same hour, nor together; and they 
 state what happened in and at the sepulchre, and on 
 the return of the women, merely because it did thus 
 happen, but wholly aside from the order of time. So 
 you will find sentiments uttered by our Lord, and par- 
 ables frequently arranged together upon this very same 
 principle, without any reference to chronology. And 
 that this method has been adopted by some of the best 
 ancient writers is well known. In harmonizing, there- 
 fore, the accounts of different writers, you must always 
 be careful to inquire whether they do pursue the 
 same method, or different ones; and if different ones, 
 then you must, in point of time, rectify the collective 
 relation by the chronological one, and complete and 
 arrange it in its details by the particular account at 
 your command. Otherwise you get yourself into 
 unnecessary and endless trouble. This is the way in 
 which I shall endeavor to harmonize the events of the 
 history before us. 
 
 The second remark I wish to make, is intended to 
 free you at once from unnecessary anxieties, as though 
 the reality of Christ's resurrection was now depend- 
 ing upon my success, or that of any other man in har- 
 monizing its accounts. I should not tremble if it were, 
 bui you perhaps would. But this is not the case. 
 There lies so much of agreement and harmony on the 
 very surface of the evangelists, even in the calumniated 
 history of the resurrection, that it would have the verdict 
 of truth before any civil bar of justice. You shall 
 judge for yourselves. The great features of it are 
 alike in all the four evangelists. 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. -223 
 
 The points of unquestionable and unquestioned agree- 
 ment are as follows. 1. Christ rose from the dead on 
 the third day after his crucifixion. 2. The event was 
 first announced to some female believers, and not to 
 the eleven disciples. 3. The messengers were angels. 
 4. It was communicated to them on an early visit to 
 the sepulchre. 5. The disciples also saw Christ, but 
 not till afterwards. 6. They saw him without any 
 apparition of angels or spirits. 7. The females found 
 the sepulchre open. 8. What the females heard and 
 saw, they saw and heard it partly in the sepulchre, 
 partly near it. 9. The disciples themselves never met 
 Christ at the sepulchre, but in different places. Thus 
 far they positively agree. Other facts, stated perhaps 
 by one evangelist and merely omitted by others, are not 
 even seemingly contradictory to the whole of the event, 
 and those which seem to oppugn each other, will find 
 their solution, I hope, in the exposition now to be 
 given. 
 
 About the reality of Christ's death, there prevailed 
 but one profound conviction among friends and foes. 
 The soldiers think it quite unnecessary to break his 
 bones; Pilate receives with confidence the official 
 report of the centurion, that the Nazarene was dead, 
 and immediately gives permission to bury him. The 
 Jews think it unworthy of their effort to prevent his 
 burial, and on requesting afterwards a guard, they 
 merely suggest that he might be stolen, but by no 
 means that he might revive. Joseph, Nicodemus, and 
 the women lay the corps, wrapped into thin linen, into 
 a cold sepulchre filled with one hundred pounds of 
 
224 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 spices, — all of which was calculated, not to revive 
 the body of a half dead person, as some have shame- 
 lessly asserted, but to destroy in a very short time the 
 most healthy and stout constitution; etc. 
 
 After three o'clock, they took him from the cross, 
 and between four and five they must have been through 
 the burial; and rolling the stone before the sepulchre 
 they went their way. Then the great Sabbath com- 
 menced and the high priest had just time enough to 
 request a Roman guard from the governor to place it 
 before the sepulchre and to seal the stone with his 
 seal. Joseph, Nicodemus and the females being 
 already gone and remaining at home all the Sabbath, 
 according to law, did neither hear nor apprehend any- 
 thing of this last measure of the Jews; for Joseph 
 lived not in his garden, but in the city. Much less 
 could the other disciples and friends of Christ receive 
 any notice of it. They were scattered through the 
 city, some perhaps were gone to Bethany; the gardener 
 of Joseph was prevented by the Sabbath from giving 
 them any intelligence; and in fact, the doleful story 
 was ended, their last hope extinguished, and the last 
 spark of curiosity, or inquiry quenched*. 
 
 The bodj, however, was not properly buried, hut only 
 deposited. It was yet to be anointed, placed in a coffin, 
 and put into one of the niches in Joseph's sepulchre. 
 As yet it lay upon a bier. The Sabbath ended too 
 late in the evening to render it expedient for anybody 
 to visit the sepulchre, and indeed it was not till then, 
 that the fact that christ had been deposited in Joseph's 
 sepulchre, became known among his friends. But early 
 the next, i. e. Sunday morning, before daylight, Mary 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 225 
 
 Magdalene rises up. She prepares spices and oint- 
 ments. According to Matthew and Mark, Mary, the 
 mother of James and Joses, and Salome join her in 
 this work of love. They knew nothing of the sixteen 
 Roman soldiers before the grave; for even Joseph 
 could not have heard of it till Saturday evening after 
 the sun had set. Their only anxiety, therefore, is, "who 
 shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sep- 
 ulchre.^" The keeper of the garden could hardly be 
 expected to do it alone, and laborers were not as yet 
 al)out the way. Yet, their longing desire is too great; 
 they proceed through the dusky, silent region, care- 
 fully avoiding the great road, to do which was easy 
 enough, if Josephus's account (Jewish war B. 5, ch. 2.) 
 of the gardens and vineyards about Jerusalem, is 
 correct. 
 
 While these pious females were yet on their way, 
 when the morning began to dawn, the great hour was 
 come. Four soldiers were watching before the sealed 
 stone, the others reclining to and fro, but quite at hand, 
 and slumbering, when a powerful shock, if not several, 
 waked them up. The rock shook, and every object 
 about them seemed to move. The first thought which 
 must necessarily have struck these responsible men, 
 was, is the sea] of the sepulchre destroyed, or injured.'' 
 Their eyes turn, as it were instinctively, to the stone, 
 and behold, a being, flashing like lightning, stands 
 there, and, as with a magic touch, rolls away the 
 mighty rock, and sits down upon it, as when a lion 
 coucheth to expect with royal ease and disdain the 
 vain assault of crawling insects. The moment after 
 the stone was rolled away, the women appear at the 
 gate of the garden, or farm. But either the angel had 
 20 
 
226 MEDITATIONS. t 
 
 not yet taken his place upon the grave-stone, or what 
 is more probable, the eyes of the women "were 
 holden" that they did not notice him. Confounded 
 and afraid, the soldiers had fled into some corner of the 
 garden, and thus the prospect from the garden-gate 
 was one of solitude and breathless silence, as moments 
 after a shock of earthquake are apt to be. The grave 
 was open, and the first thought which struck Mary 
 Magdalene was, alas! they have taken him hence. 
 But who? Joseph? O no! why should he? Alas, it is 
 but too probable that the Jews have come to carry him 
 away, to spend upon him the remainder of their rage. 
 At all events, something melancholy, it strikes her, 
 has happened. Overflowing as her feelings ever were, 
 she cannot bear her apprehension alone, and leaving 
 the two other women, she hastens right back to the 
 city to apprise Peter and John of what she had seen, 
 and communicate to them her fears. In the meantime 
 the other females enter, approach the grave, and all 
 at once they see the supernatural being sitting upon 
 the stone. Fear takes hold of them, but the angel's 
 kind address keeps them from sinking; " Fear not ye: 
 for I know that ye seek Jesus; which was crucified. 
 He is not here: for he is risen as he said. Come, see 
 the place where the Lord lay, and go quickly and tell 
 his disciples that he is risen from the dead, and behold, 
 he goeth before you into Galilee, there shall ye see 
 him, lo, I have told you." So the angel. They, filled 
 with awe and joy, depart and run to bring his disciples 
 word. From the angel's descent to this point, hardly 
 five minutes could have elapsed. During this time, the 
 soldiers became satisfied that there was a more than 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 227 
 
 human arm here displayed, and made their escape. 
 Their interview with the high-priests will receive a 
 word of attention on some future opportunity. In the 
 meantime, Mary the mother of James, and Salome, as 
 they hasten back to the city, meet Jesus unexpectedly, 
 and probably not far from the garden of Joseph. This 
 interview took place after that which Christ had with 
 Mary Magdalene, (compare Mark) and to make this 
 consistent, you may suppose that these two elderly 
 women stopped at the house of some neighbor to 
 recover from their excitement of mind, and then pro- 
 ceeded to the city; or they may have run over to 
 Bethany to some disciples there, and met Christ by 
 the way. As soon as they see him, they sink down 
 at his feet. But he addresses them: "Be not afraid, 
 go tell my brethren that they go into Galilee, and there 
 shall they see me." Knowing, probably, or at least 
 apprehending that Mary Magdalene had gone to Peter 
 and John, and that these two must now needs be on 
 one of the ways leading to the sepulchre, and not at 
 home, they naturally direct their steps towards the 
 dwellings of some other disciples, or to Bethany, as I 
 suggested; and this makes it so much the easier to see 
 why they did not meet Peter and John. But whatso- 
 ever roads they took, it was a bypath, and to miss each 
 other was very easy. 
 
 The three pious females, whom we have now accom- 
 panied, were not the only ones v/ho intended to share 
 in the privilege of anointing the Lord's body. Proba- 
 bly soon after them another company of pious women 
 set out for the same purpose. Some of them were rich. 
 Joanna was among them, the wife of Chuza, who was 
 
228 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 Herod's steward, and probably Susanna and several 
 others. They, too, (and what was more natural than 
 that.^) had their anxieties by the way, who should re- 
 move for them the heavy stone from the mouth of the 
 sepulchre. At the sepulchre, they had expected to 
 meet their three friends. But these had already fled, 
 and so had the soldiers; and the angel on the tomb- 
 stone had disappeared. The sepulchre is open; they 
 enter in. The darkness of the cave at this early sea- 
 son did not permit them at first to distinguish whether 
 Christ's body was there, or not. But soon they are 
 aware, to their astonishment, that the corpse is gone, 
 and they see two angels sitting, one at the head and 
 the other at the feet, where Jesus lay. Mark men- 
 tions but one, because one only spoke. Luke says, in 
 a general way, that they said unto the women, etc. 
 So say Matthew and Mark, generally, that the Uco 
 malefactors reviled Christ, while Luke, being particu- 
 lar, informs of the repentance of one of them. And so 
 do we speak every day in the language of common in- 
 tercourse, and our characters, as lovers of truth and 
 proper witnesses at courts of justice, are not invali- 
 dated tlrereby. The address and charge of this angel 
 to these women is naturally in substance the same which 
 is given to the others a few minutes ago, by the angel 
 sitting on the rock. They flee as soon as they can gather 
 strength enough, and some of them say nothing to any- 
 body, but hasten home; others communicate to the dis- 
 ciples here and there, as they were able to find them, 
 what they had seen and heard; but they find little or 
 no credence. And what was more natural than aU 
 this.^ 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 229 
 
 The message which the angel gave to the women in 
 two repeated instances, seems at first inconsistent 
 with fact. They send word to the disciples, that Christ 
 would see them in Galilee, whither they are ordered 
 to proceed. But Christ appeared to the eleven and to 
 some others sundry times, at Jerusalem, during the 
 course of the very week already commenced. Even 
 this very day he appeared to Peter and to the two dis- 
 ciples that went to Emmaus. A great handle has been 
 made of this circumstance; but the solution is equally 
 easy and satisfactory. Matt, xxvi. 32, and Mark, xvi. 
 7, Christ predicts his own death and resurrection, and 
 adds that, after his resurrection, he will appear to his 
 disciples in Galilee. This was a general hint to the 
 disciples, and all his followers and brethren, to pro- 
 ceed to Galilee after his death; and certainly Galilee 
 was a more safe and convenient place than Jerusalem 
 for religious interviews, or meetings, where so many 
 were to be present. Of this hint, they as a body are 
 now reminded. Why they did not all at once remove 
 to Galilee, may have been owing to some private spe- 
 cification of time, given by Christ previously, but not 
 recorded; or more probably to the fact that Christ ap- 
 peared unto them at Jerusalem the very evening after 
 his, resurrection, and afterwards again; on which ac- 
 count they waited until he should give them to know 
 that it was now time to proceed to Galilee to the more 
 general and long promised meeting, where probably 
 the five hundred brethren, of whom Paul speaks, were 
 present. And it is easy to see the propriety of their 
 conduct in this respect. The appearance of Christ at 
 Jerusalem, and to the two disciples on their way to 
 , 20* 
 
230 
 
 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 £ttimaus, was merely intended to settle them in the 
 Conviction that he was alive again; and what was more 
 liecessafy than this, if they were really to travel to 
 Galilee to the mountain specified, to meet Christ 
 there? This appearance was never intended, there- 
 fore, to be announced to the disciples previously. The 
 angels have no charge to speak of these sudden inter- 
 views, and Christ, as we shall see from his words to 
 Mary Magdalene, is purposely silent on this subject; 
 purposely, I say, because he must have known, surely, 
 what he was going to do; and yet he says not a word 
 about it. Thus these fabricated difficulties all vanish. 
 
 It is worthy of notice, that this latter company of fe- 
 males had no interview with Christ himself, and it is to 
 these that the two disciples walking to Emmaus, had 
 referred in Luke, xxiv. 22, 23. 
 
 Now, Peter, John, and Mary Magdalene return. It 
 is now fairly day, and the sun about to rise. They 
 come somewhat late, probably because Peter and John 
 lived in different parts of the city, and then they needed 
 to get up, and dress, it being early yet; and it was al- 
 most unavoidable that they should propose many ques- 
 tions to the affrighted sister, and wish to hear her ac- 
 counts fully, before they could resolve upon a visit to 
 the grave at this season. At last, they set out, and 
 that they continued asking many an anxious and unbe- 
 lieving question more, as they passed along, you may 
 easily imagine. They feel, however, more and more 
 interested; and as they approach the garden, the 
 younger disciple, i. e. John, runs ahead. He stoops 
 down and looks into the sepulchre; there are the linen 
 clothes, but tl\e body of Christ is really gone. Thus, 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 231 
 
 much is however clear now, the body is not stolen; for 
 had it been stolen, the costly linen would not have been 
 carefully taken off the body and left behind in the 
 grave. Peter and Mary soon follow John. Now, they 
 all enter. There are. the linen clothes, and the napkin, 
 wrapt up, lies separately. All indicates care and order, 
 and the heart of Mary is at least so far consoled, that 
 it is now probable the body of the beloved Master is 
 still in the hands of friends. John marks all the par- 
 ticulars well, and believes, (John, xx. 8) i. e. gathers 
 for himself the conviction that Jesus is taken away. 
 " For as'yet," he says himself, " they knew not the 
 Scripture that he must rise again from the dead." Sat- 
 isfied, as they think, that there is nothing more to be 
 done here, the two disciples return to the city, plan- 
 ning, perhaps, among themselves to go as soon as pos- 
 sible to Joseph, and to ask him what had become of the 
 body, etc. 
 
 Poor human speculation is a miserable guide to piety 
 and in piety. Here let the heart speak! There listen 
 and follow, and do not grieve it to silence with cold 
 reasoning. Poor Peter and poor John! back they 
 went, and many a wise remark may have been made 
 by them, as they walked, to explain to each other the 
 probable singular occurrence of this morning. Mary's 
 burning love to Christ will not let her depart. Here 
 they deposited him, and here she saw him on that mel- 
 ancholy evening, and here she seeks him, and cannot 
 get away. To go back! why, a king's palace would 
 have been a wilderness to her. Oh! the grave was 
 empty, and the world was empty. Whom had she in 
 heaven but him, and there was none upon earth whom 
 
232 MEDITATIONS. '^ 
 
 she desired besides him. There she stands, the lovely 
 sister, at the entrance of the empty cave. Seven de- 
 mons had possessed her not long since, and Jesus's 
 powerful hand had freed her, poor sinner; and ever 
 since, she had enjoyed the foretaste of heaven in com- 
 munion with him, and he had poured a thousand bles- 
 sings on her soul. And now his enemies have mur- 
 dered him, and even his friends carry his body 
 about, and she knows not where he is, and is not 
 permitted to do him the last melancholy service of love. 
 It is too hard, it is too hard to bear; it seems to rend 
 her soul from her. She stands, and thinks and knows 
 not where to go nor what to do, and the two disciples 
 are hardly through the gate, when she wraps her face 
 in her garment, and a stream of tears rolls freely down 
 her cheeks. Weep, dear child of God! To weep for 
 Christ is sweet. Blessed are they that weep thus: 
 they shall be comforted. Yea, they are already com- 
 forted; for one tear wept for him is worth a thousand 
 worlds. " O, that my head were waters, and mine 
 eyes fountains of tears, that I might weep day and 
 night " for him who is " the chief among ten thousands 
 and the one altogether lovely." There is none like 
 unto him. Take him away, and I must curse my exist- 
 ence. If he is a phantom; ii' lie is not: then "let the 
 day. perish wherein I was born." 
 
 How long she wept, who can tell? She stoops down 
 and looks into the empty grave, — most unjustifiable be- 
 fore the bar of reason, certainly; but most consonant 
 to her feelings: to seek where there was nothing, ap- 
 parently, to seek, and to hope against hope. And, lo! 
 there are two men sitting in the grave. Her eyes, 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 233 
 
 dim with weeping, did not permit her to distinguish, nor 
 her state of mind to rejlect, and she takes them for at- 
 tendants of Joseph, who may have entered, she thinks, 
 while she was weeping. " Woman, why weepest 
 thou?" says one. "Because they have taken away 
 my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him," 
 So she. But hark! something, some steps per- 
 haps, sound behind her, and she turns back to see who 
 comes. It is a man. She knows him not. But who 
 should come here so early, she thinks again; he must 
 be the gardener of Joseph, whose attendants she had 
 just noticed in the grave. " Woman, why weepest 
 thou.'' whom seekest thou.'* " he asks sweetly and full of 
 sympathy. " Sir," she replies, encouraged, " if thou hast 
 bornie him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I 
 will take him away." The pure language of affection, 
 — affection so strong as to exclude for the moment 
 every maturer thought and reflection. Why, Mary, 
 he might have said, what dost thou want to do with the 
 dead body of thy deceased friend ? His soul has fled, 
 his mortal eyes, and his sweet voice speak no more 
 comfort to poor distressed souls. T ill thou arrive in 
 heaven, thou canst enjoy his society no more. His 
 body of clay must moulder away. And why wilt thou 
 not leave him '* earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to 
 dust.'*" And what could she have replied? Nothing. 
 But our Lord understands and appreciates well the 
 language of the heart. The moment was come. 
 "Mary ! " he says, and the harmony of heaven thrills 
 in his voice. Mary! Amazed, she looks at him. Is it 
 he? It is he! and alive! The transition is too rapid; 
 the joy too great; ^' Rabboni! Master! " and she lies 
 
234 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 at his feet. O, heaven on earth! what is like unto that 
 moment, when the first " Rabboni " bursts from our 
 hearts and lips! Now, oh now, it is worth while to 
 live. Now let me live forever! for Jesus lives, and is 
 my friend. And 
 
 " When he is mine, and I am his, 
 What can I want beside ? " 
 
 Now, " truly the light is sweet, and it is a pleasant 
 thing for the eyes to behold the sun." Now, there is 
 meaning in my existence. I am a man, I am a man 
 now, while before I was a poor brute, a silly, wander- 
 ing sheep. It is done; the great problem of my exis- 
 tence is solved; the poor heart is satisfied at last, and 
 eternity shines, brighter than the firmament of heaven. 
 
 Jesus, ever the same, ever divine, replies with heav- 
 enly calmness: " Touch me not," Mary. This is no 
 time for embracing my knees, for kissing my hands, 
 for watering my feet with thy tears. We shall meet 
 again. " For I am not yet ascended to my Father. 
 But go to my brethren and say unto them, I ascend 
 unto my Father and to your Father, and to my God 
 and to your God." 
 
 Here closes the history of this morning, a morning 
 of unutterable interest to our world, and to our souls, 
 and one never to be repeated. Yet, while all these 
 events transpire, an iron slumber rests upon yonder 
 Jerusalem. There the priests and Levites, lifeless 
 hirelings, sleep, jaded with the tiresome exercises of 
 the sanctuary, with which they would gladly have dis- 
 pensed, had they known how to get money without 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 235 
 
 them. There is slumbering the thoughtless multitude, 
 well satisfied with the round of external performances, 
 and the sacrifices of bulls and goats. There you find 
 Pilate, and Herod, and many a Dives rolling, half- 
 sleeping, half awake upon his uneasy couch, writhing 
 under the consequences of a wild nightly banquet. 
 And if any one is fairly awake, it is the miser worship- 
 ping upon the knees of his heart his accursed mam- 
 mon. A picture of the world drawn to the very life. 
 While Christ rises as the almighty friend and Saviour 
 of sinners, before those "who seek him early," the 
 world give themselves no concern. "Yet a little 
 sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of hands. So 
 shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy 
 want as an armed man." Pro v. vi. 10. " Sleep on 
 now, thoughtless, careless souls, and take your rest," 
 but know that the sword of divine- justice hangs men- 
 acing over your defenceless heads. There is one 
 among the nights to come, and you know it not, 
 when in the solitary midnight hour the knell of your 
 dying bell shall wake you up from the slumber of sin. 
 Affrighted, you will look about, and behold! your 
 sands are run out, and the icy, merciless hand of death 
 has hold upon your heart-string, to tear it asunder 
 as a spider's thread, and to cast your unprepared dis- 
 tracted soul into the unexplored abyss of eternity. O 
 what a moment that will be! Forever gone by is now 
 the slighted day of mercy, the time of repentance and 
 faith, whose merciful and glorious purpose, whose 
 all-absorbing importance you will then perceive with 
 horror and with the outbursting lamentation: "Wo is 
 
236 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 unto me; for the harvest is past, the summer ended, 
 and I am not saved." 
 
 But let us close with the lovely part of our picture. 
 There are many mourning souls and weeping Marys 
 in Zion, and unto them I could wish to open the whole 
 treasury of heavenly consolation if 1 was able. But 
 if I am not able to do it, the solemn history of this 
 morning shows them who is able, and how to get ac- 
 cess to him. 
 
 Nothing is so wonderful as the first waking up to a 
 spiritual life; nothing so delightful as the first love, 
 the first grateful emotion of the sinner who has " ob- 
 tained mercy" and pardon. There the tabernacle of 
 God is with man, and heaven is begun on earth. The 
 fountain of life is open, and springs high before the 
 withering, languishing soul; and she drinks in energy 
 and life and joy divine; her "peace" is "like a 
 river," and her " righteousness as the waves of the 
 sea." The dew of heaven descends gently and re- 
 freshing, and the early rain and the latter rain fail not; 
 eternal comfort and prosperity have commenced. To 
 sit at the feet of Jesus, to live under the smiles of his 
 countenance, and to breathe the atmosphere of heaven, 
 what more can be wanting to perfect earthly bliss. 
 We, then, wish and pray that this happy state may last 
 forever; we fondly hope it will; and if we were faithful 
 and kept humble, it would. But the heart of man is 
 deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked, 
 and its thorough cure is not the work of a day. Un- 
 faithfulness, a false trust in means, self-complacency, 
 and many other secret besetting sins, must be purged 
 away by darkness and distress of mind, and many a 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. ^3t 
 
 trial. And, oh! this is a bitter lesson to him who has 
 tasted how good and how precious the Lord is. Now 
 he is ready to endure anything, if Christ will not 
 withdraw from him his love and the hope of salvation. 
 No more to be permitted to say, '^My beloved is mine 
 and 1 am his," — is harder to bear than the curse 
 and contempt of all this world. " O, that I were as 
 in months past, as in the days when God preserved 
 me; when hfs candle shined upon my head and when 
 by his light I walked through darkness; as I was in 
 the days of my youth, when the secret of God was 
 upon my tabernacle; when I washed my steps with 
 butter, and the rock poured me out rivers of oil! " 
 These are days of weeping and lamentation, and nights 
 of wakefulness and distress; and no man can help us, 
 and our desolate heart seems to be armed with steel 
 and adamant against every drop of comfort. Is there 
 no balm in Gilead ? is there no physician there! Then 
 Christ is dead and buried to us, and we know not 
 where they have laid him, and we seek him whom our 
 soul loveth, but we find him not. Well, my suffering 
 brother or sister, mourn and weep; it will do you 
 good. To weep for Christ is sweet. But I beseech 
 you, do not despair. Your Saviour is not dead, but 
 liveth; go and seek him! If the bustle of the busy 
 world, and the multitude of duties will not permit you 
 to seek him by day or in the evening, then seek him 
 in the night season, like the Shulamite, or rise up 
 early in the morning like Mary, when it begins to 
 dawn, when all is stillness about you. Prepare the 
 ointment of a grateful remembrance of his dying love 
 to you; seek his silent grave. There weep; it is a 
 21 
 
238 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 good place; there pour out your soul. He will hear 
 every sob of your bosom, and notice every solitary, 
 unheeded tear of distress. Soon the dear Rabboni 
 will whisper behind you, with the voice of unutterable 
 love, "Mary;" here I am, my sister, my love, my 
 dove, my undefiled, thou art mine, and none shall 
 pluck thee out of my hand. And you, leaning again 
 upon your beloved as in days past, will exclaim as you 
 did then. Lord, it is enough, for thou art mine! Amen. 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 xi. 
 
 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 LUKE XXIV, 13—35. 
 
 And b hold, two of tliem wont that sauiH day to a village called Emmaus, which 
 was from Jerusalem about threescore fui longs. And they talked together of all 
 these things which had ha()pt!ned. And it came to pass, that wliile thoy com- 
 muned together, and reasoned, Jesus himscil drew near, and went with them. But 
 their eyes were holden, that they slioald not know him. Ard he said unto them, 
 What ni;inner of communications are these that ye have one to another, as ye 
 ■walk, and are sad? And the one one of them, wiiose name was CJeophas, answer- 
 ing, said unto him, An t!iou only a str mger in Jerusalem, and hast not known 
 the things which are to come to pass there in these days.? And he said unto them 
 what things ? An I they said unto him, Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, which was 
 a prophet mighty in deed and word biifore God and all the people: and how the 
 chief priests a id our rulers delivered him to be condemned to death, and have cru- 
 cified him. But we trusted tliat it had been he which should have redeemed 
 Israel : and besides all this, to-day is the third day since these tilings were done. 
 Yea, and certain women also of our company made us astonished, wliich were 
 early at the sepulchre : and when they found not his bo ly, they came, saying, 
 That they had also seen a vision of angels, which said that he was alive. And 
 certain of them which were with us wont to the sepulchre, and found it even so 
 as the women had said ; but him they saw not. Then he said unto them, O fools, 
 and slow of heart to believe all that the projihets have ejiokeu ! Ought not 
 
240 MEDITATIONS, * 
 
 Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory ? And begin'.ifn;^ 
 at Moses, ami all tlio prophets, he expounded unto them in all the sciiptures the 
 tilings concerning himself. And they drew ni h unto the village whilher thoy 
 went: und he made as though he would have gone further. But they constrained 
 him, saying, Abide with us; for it is towards evening, and the diiy is far spent. 
 And he went in to tarry with them. And it came to pass, as he sat at meat witb 
 them, he took hrefid, and hfessed it^ and break, and gave to them. And 
 tliijir eyes were opened, and they knew liim ; and he vanished out of their sight. 
 And they said one to another, Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked 
 with us by the way, and while he opemd lo us tlie scriptures ! Arvl they rose up- 
 the same hour, and returned to Jerusahnr), and fotind the eleven gathered together, 
 and them that were with thorn, saying, The Lord is risen indeed, and hath a\t- 
 ptared unto Simon. And they told whiit things were done i.i the way, and hovir 
 he was known of them in breaking of bread. 
 
 Jerusalem was yet buried in deep sleep, and its dwel- 
 lings, streets and markets were silent as the grave. 
 Caiaphas indulging his morning slumbers beneath the 
 silk curtains of his damask couch. The Nazarine is 
 buried in the cold tomb, and the soldiers of Pilate and the 
 broad seal of his Holiness guard the sepulchre. Sweet 
 dreams of the future prosperity of that lucrative hie- 
 rarchy whose head he is, a hierarchy growing and ex- 
 panding in his imagination, until the arrival of that 
 warlike Messiah, who is to raise for every circumcised 
 rebel and wretch a golden throne of infernal selfishness 
 upon the blood and the ruins of a poor, perishing 
 world ; — sweet dreams — in point of moral character, 
 not a whit above the feigned imaginations of Satan in 
 Milton's 'Paradise Lost* — occupy and refresh the 
 mind and heart of Caiaphas, when the heavy knocker 
 of his palace gate is touched with a hasty and power- 
 ful hand. He starts up. What is the matter } Per- 
 haps one of the failings of my flock is near death, and 
 wants to purchase, for his last hour, the precious con- 
 solations of Sinai's law. For surely, a lean and poor 
 
THE Walk to Emmaus. 241 
 
 sheep ought to be happy to go to eternity under the 
 cheaper prayers of a simple Levite. He listens, re- 
 clining upon one arm, one foot already out of his bed, 
 when his chamberlain approaches his bed-chamber 
 with steps long and quick, and before the door gives 
 the usual sign for being admitted. He is called in, 
 and interrogated. "The soldiers from the sepulchre 
 of the Nazarene are below and wish to see your holi- 
 ness on important and pressing business." "The 
 soldiers from the sepulchre.'' Not possible!" — 
 "With your leave, sir, the very ones." One min- 
 ute, and the high-priest is in his dress. "Lead them 
 into the private council-chamber below, and call the 
 whole Sanhedrim together quickly." The Sanhedrim 
 assembled, the Roman officer at the head of the guard 
 is called in and relates some of the facts to which we 
 attended in our last meditation, — and the seventy 
 wise men of Israel are again at their wit's end ; at 
 their wlVs end, but not at the end of their wickedness. 
 Is he indeed risen ! No matter. One lie more, and 
 why not one thousand ? — and truth will perish at 
 last, and the cause of Satan prosper. " Here is a 
 handsome present for your trouble and fright, my 
 brave fellows," says the high-priest. "Just say to 
 the common people, who know not the law and are 
 cursed, — just say. We slept, and his disciples stole 
 him. And if Pilate should say aught, we will give 
 him such a hint of the true state of the case, and ac- 
 company the hint with such an appendix from our 
 treasury, as will avert from you all undesirable conse- 
 quences of your kind services to us." The soldiers 
 depart, the Sanhedrim adjourns not without those se- 
 21* 
 
242 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 cret misgivings which have well been called the begin- 
 ning of judgment to come ! You ask why I relate thi:^ 
 event. To connect the history of the forenoon and the 
 aficrnoon of our Lord's resurrection-day by this event, 
 the only one which remained to be mentioned among 
 the many and various occurrences of that important 
 morning. The sun rose and filled the city again with 
 noise and bustle and the temple with sacrifices, fire, 
 incense, songs and psalms, with purchasers and sell- 
 ers, and with the large assembly of formalists and 
 hypocrites, mingled with a ^ew humble and sincere 
 worshippers upon whom a better day was soon to 
 dawn. The sun reached his meridian height and 
 passed it, and as he descended, two more appearances 
 of our risen Lord signalized this, in the history of our 
 world, unparalleled day. I refer to his appearances to 
 Peter (which the entire absence of particulars obliges 
 tis to pass by) and to the event related in our text. 
 To the consideration of this portion of holy writ, let 
 us now attend with solemnity of mind and with sincere 
 desires for spiritual instruction and profit ; and may 
 He with whom is the residue of the spirit, prepare our 
 minds, guide our thoughts, and seal instruction to our 
 hearts. 
 
 L The conversion of the two disciples ; 
 n. Their reproof and instruction ; 
 in. The divine illumination of their minds ; and, 
 IV. The joy of their hearts ; 
 These are the four topics to which our attention will 
 chiefly be turned. 
 
tHE WALK TO EMMAUS. ^43 
 
 I. "And behold, two of them went that same day 
 to a village called Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem 
 about three score furlongs." Who were they ? One 
 of them was Cleopas, or Cleophas, the husband of that 
 Mary who was the sister of the mother of Christ, He 
 was also the brother of Joseph, the supposed father of 
 our Lord. He was one of those who belonged to the 
 narroiver circle of the friends of Christ, and who re- 
 mained in the most intimate connection with the apos- 
 tles ever afterwards. And if Nathaniel was the other, 
 I should not be surprised. At all events, this other 
 one also must have been one of the more trusty and 
 sincere friends of our Lord, one waiting for the king- 
 dom of heaven, and fully prepared to enter into all the 
 feelings of that little flock which then was scattered 
 as sheep without a shepherd. All which these two 
 men knew of the occurrences of the morning, was the 
 avowal of the second company of women who went to 
 anoint the body of Christ, and that of Peter and John's 
 subsequent visit to the sepulchre. You remember 
 what I said in our last meditation respecting this sec- 
 ond company of females. Having heard these limited 
 and imperfect accounts which contained nothing of 
 comfort, our two pilgrims set out on foot for Emmaus, 
 a village about seven and a half miles from Jerusalem. 
 Either they lived there, or they went out on business ; 
 or perhaps they wished to withdraw a little from the 
 noise and the distractions of that city which now had 
 become to them an intolerable abode. The latter 
 supposition is more agreeable both to the state of 
 their minds and the nature of the conversation, and 
 especially to the fact that Christ thought them pre- 
 
244 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 pared to receive that distinguishing manifestation of 
 his love to them, those solemn instructions, and those 
 soul-refreshing communications of his spirit and his 
 grace, which, as we shall see, were their peculiar and 
 blessed privilege that day. You are aware that these 
 two men were sufficiently enlightened already to expect 
 no warlike prince in the Messiah. With them he was 
 to be B. prince of peace, a teacher of righteousness, the 
 restorer of primitive innocence, simplicity and happi- 
 ness, the comfort and glory of Israel, who, by the 
 means of superior wisdom, righteousness and love, 
 should bring all the kings of the earth to a willing 
 submission to his sceptre. A week ago, their voices 
 had joined on the Mount of Olives in a peaceful and 
 holy song of praise to the Son of David, who came to 
 Jerusalem, meek and lowly, riding on an ass ; and 
 they had no objection, then, to his peaceful and hum- 
 ble exterior. They knew him too well to expect any 
 other administration from him than that of equity and 
 love ; and what they were ignorant of, was only the 
 pervading spirituality of his kingdom, tlie free, grand, 
 sovereign dispensation of its mercies to all ready to 
 receive them ; and especially the manner in which it 
 was to come, i. e. through reproach, weakness, and 
 death. 
 
 They have hardly passed the gates of Jerusalem, 
 when one of them, breaking the silence, gives vent to 
 his feelings in some such strain as this : " Well, my 
 dear brother, he is dead, our Master is no more ! 
 I cannot, cannot believe it ; it seems like a distress- 
 ing, doleful dream to me, that he should have been 
 scourged and crucified and buried ; but alas, alas ! it 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 245 
 
 is but too true. And if a man be dead, shall he live 
 again ? O, where is the promise of his coming, and 
 the hope of Israel ! And must we die without seeing 
 the salvation of God's people ? According to the 
 prophets, the time is at hand, and he himself said and 
 did many things, which justified our expectations of 
 him ; and he was a man dear to us, and full of the 
 wisdom, power, and spirit of God. When the ear 
 heard him, then it blessed him ; and when the eye 
 saw him, it gave witness to him. He taught with 
 power, and not as our scribes ; and when he spoke 
 comfort, it was like manna and milk. My thoughts 
 were otherwise ; soon every heart will love him ; the 
 world will choose him for her friend and for her king, 
 and the glory and salvation of Israel draweth nigh. 
 But ah! he moulders in the dust, — he is dead, — he 
 is dead, — and the glowing spark of my fondest 
 hope is now extinguished in the deep darkness of his 
 grave." 
 
 And the reply of his companion was equally replete 
 with sorrow: " O, stop, you break my heart. You 
 know I loved him as much as any one of you did; and 
 ah! I cannot forgive it to our high-priests. It was 
 abominable! And were it not for their sacred office, 
 I should curse them with the heaviest imprecation of the 
 law. Could I but have died with him, then I should be 
 at ease and rid of trouble, and rest with my father, for 
 I am weary of life. But you heard, I suppose, of 
 Chuza's.wife, and the rest who went to the sepulchre, 
 and saw angels who said he lived; and of Peter and 
 John; they all found the grave open, and what do you 
 think?" "Ah! as to the women," the other rejoined, 
 
246 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 ** it was dark when they went out, and they were 
 fearful, and thought they saw and heard something. 
 Peter and John went out when it was clear day, and 
 they found nothing but an empty grave; and what 
 does that prove ? After all we have been mistaken 
 about our pious friend. A holy, good brother he was, 
 and indeed he seems to have thought himself the 
 Messiah, or we misunderstood him, it may be ; mis- 
 takes are easy. At all events, the Messiah he was not, 
 for he is dead and buried, and Israel is not delivered, 
 and the kingdom of God has not come." 
 
 So they. Events like the death of Christ, and mis- 
 takes like those of our disciples, are very common 
 in the history of the Church. In this world, Herod is 
 king, and Caiphas high-priest, and Christ is con- 
 demned and crucified time and again, and his people 
 are laughed to scorn as fools, and trodden under foot 
 and cast out as the offscouring of the world. Where 
 is the truly pious king in all the eighteen centuries of 
 our era who had faith and devotion enough wholly to 
 lay down his crown and sceptre at the feet of Christ ! 
 whose cabinet was not more or less based upon the 
 low principles of brute force and self-interest, and 
 whose course was not defiled with the maxims and 
 practices of the world ? Can anything be more scarce 
 than such a king .'' What has the true Church of 
 Christ yet experienced on earth, more than bare suf- 
 ferance ? Blessed be God, she needs no more, and if 
 that also be denied her, she needs not that ! She knows, 
 and she alone, how to grow and spread amid the terrors 
 of persecution. She has realized the fable of the phoenix 
 coming forth young and fresh from the burning furnace, 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 247 
 
 and has done so more than once. But while the storm 
 roars and the flames of persecution rage, the faith of 
 many Christians is tried severely, and many a half des- 
 pairing glance, and many a half-murmuring sigh as- 
 cend to heaven. The apostolic age had not yet ex- 
 pired, when the streets of Rome were already illumi- 
 nated by burning Christians wrapped in pitch-cloth, 
 while others, disguised in wild beasts' skins, were 
 hunted down, and torn to pieces by dogs. The blood 
 of more than forty thousand Christians was spilled be- 
 fore the close of the first, century. Nero, Domitian, 
 Trajan, Antoninus, Severus, Maximinus, Decius, 
 Valerian, Aurelian, and Dioclesian, made havoc of 
 the little inoffensive flock of Christ. Under the lat- 
 ter monarch, seventeen thousand fell in one month, 
 and within ten years, one hundred and forty-four thou- 
 sand fell in Egypt alone, besides seven hundred thou- 
 sand that died in public works to which they were 
 condemned, and in banishment. Against the handful 
 of poor, ignorant Waldenses, who had nothing and 
 knew nothing but their Bible, the Inquisition must be 
 raised, and the judgment-day alone will disclose the hor- 
 rors of its unexplored caverns and jails. One single 
 Arian queen from among the northern nations butch- 
 ered one hundred thousand Trinitarians before she 
 died. Under the hand of the mad Spaniards there fell 
 in Holland upwards of one hundred thousand so called 
 heretics. France needs but to be mentioned to excite 
 horror and disgust. All that is cruel, all that is 
 shameless, was practised upon Protestant heretics 
 there. Bartholomew's night, in 1572, will be a prom- 
 inent and absorbing case in the decisions of the judg- 
 
S48 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 ment day. Besides the scenes of Paris, those of 
 Meaux, Angers, Orleans, Troyes, Bourges, La Charite 
 and Lyons, will come to light ; nor will the bloody 
 high-mass of Gregory XIII. at Rome, with his Cardi- 
 nals, and all their pomp and exultation, be forgotten, 
 by W'hich they commemorated the death of one hundred 
 thousand innocent persons. Louis XIV. of France, 
 the admired monarch, the great man, (though Luci«- 
 fer is greater than he) committed outrages against 
 Christians which Nero and Dioclesian did not com- 
 mit. The scenes of England are too familiar to my 
 audience to need a mention. About the middle of the 
 17th century, from forty to fifty thousand defenceless 
 individuals suffered death within a few days in Ireland. 
 And Scotland, Spain, Germany, Bohemia, etc., would 
 furnish us with facts sufficient to fill the world with 
 them. And how could the Church live, you ask.? 
 How she lived, I cannot tell ; but that she did live, 
 we know. Yea, what I have mentioned could not 
 impede her growth. Under such circumstances, the 
 Church not only lived, but budded and blossomed 
 like Carmel and Sharon. But when I think of the 
 sealing up of the Bible till the art of printing was 
 invented, when 1 think of the one thousand years 
 darkness from Augustine to Luther ; when 1 think 
 of all the ruinous errors in doctrine and practice, 
 which crept in at different times into Christendom ; 
 when I think of all the sects which sprung up, and 
 whose very names would fill pages; when I think of all 
 the scientific and literary crusades made against the 
 Bible; when I think of the calm, strong-minded scepti- 
 cism of England, by which the five senses which every 
 animal has in common with us, were made to defy and 
 
THE Walk to emmaus. 249 
 
 to silence the divine voice within man, and the forebo- 
 ding of eternity, or of the sparkling wit and the learned 
 atheism of France, by which they meant to prove that 
 their souls and ours were made of mud, — or of the 
 criticisms and metaphysics of Germany, that were to 
 convert lis, the one into Grammars and Lexicons, the 
 other into vapor and nothing; when I think of these 
 batteries, all directed against the simple tale of the 
 gospel, all contrived and managed by the arch-fiend of 
 everything good and holy, to tear from us the truth 
 as it is in Jesus, I am amazed, 1 am overwhelmed, I 
 must cry out. Lord, was it possible that the church 
 could live ? Yes ; it was. Was not thy word, whose 
 every syllable has been doubted, examined, distorted, 
 denied, mocked, cursed, prohibited, was it not buried 
 up in eternal oblivion, or torn in peacemeal and scat- 
 tered to the four winds of heaven ? No ! no ! The 
 word and Church of Christ stand yet untouched, and 
 while HE stxinds, they will. Though Herod be king on 
 earth and Caiphas high-priest, Jesus is both king and 
 high-priest in heaven ! But v/hile all this is going on, 
 many a dejected Cleophas wandering to Emmaus with 
 his fellow-sufTerers, exclaims, "Ah ! we trusted that it 
 had been he who should have redeemed Israel ! " 
 
 We proceed to our second topic, and then will they 
 find their answer. 
 
 n. The road to Emmaus was a solitary one, espe- 
 cially at this time. Our pilgrims had ample opportu- 
 nity to unbosom themselves freely. They were in no 
 particular hurry ; they walked along, now slower, now 
 quicker, now they stop, then they proceed again, just 
 
 CfC) 
 
250 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 as men are apt to do who are engaged in an absorbing 
 and affecting theme of conversation. By and by a sol- 
 itary stranger overtakes them. They take him for a 
 pilgrim from abroad, and his appearance was so pre- 
 possessing and lovely, that they proceed with their 
 conversation, void of any apprehension of peril. The 
 stranger, instead of passing on ahead of them, seems 
 inclined to keep them company ; and after the usual 
 salutation of peace, he addressed them in some such 
 way as this: "Men and brethren, I perceive your 
 minds and hearts are deeply engaged in a serious 
 though melancholy subject of conversation. 1 too feel 
 interested in whatsoever concerns a higher and better 
 world than this; and the promises of God, the hope of 
 Israel and the spiritual welfare of every soul under 
 heaven, are subjects very near and dear to my heart. 
 But I have not been able to gather any meaning or 
 connection from your abrupt exclamations and re- 
 marks. What manner of communications, then, are 
 these, that ye have one to another as ye walk, and are 
 sad ? Those that fear the Lord speak often one to 
 another, as the prophet says, and who knows what spir- 
 itual enjoyment and comfort a free, brotherly exchange 
 of feeling and of divine knowledge, may yield us by 
 the way." Cleophas and his companion no sooner 
 discern in this stranger a pious brother, than they 
 unburden their hearts in the lively and affecting man- 
 ner of our text, expecting, probably, many questions, 
 and much of wonder and perplexity on the part of the 
 foreigner. But what was their surprise, think you, 
 when they perceived his sweet countenance over- 
 spreading with something of that same divine ease and 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 251 
 
 calmness, and his pensive eye glancing away, as it 
 were, over the plains of heaven and eternity with that 
 same profound and enrapturing intensity, which they 
 used to think the exclusive characteristics of their de- 
 ceased Rabhi of Nazareth. How strange, when he 
 opened his lips to express his astonishment at nothing 
 save their unbelief, and when, after the faithful and 
 tender reproof, he commenced a cou^rse of divine in- 
 struction, which expanded their minds to a thousand 
 new ideas, and poured a river of consolation and joy 
 into their wounded hearts, " O, ye fools, and slow of 
 heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken ! 
 Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to 
 enter into his glory ?" What! have you forgotten that 
 the woman's seed, the Restorer of ilie fall, will not 
 crush the serpent's head without having his own heel 
 crushed first ? You know the universal law of con- 
 science recognized by the sacrifices of Moses, that 
 without the shedding of blood there is no remission of 
 sin, and the universal law of reason recognized by the 
 repetition of those sacrifices, that the blood of beasts 
 cannot take it away, — and do you draw no inference 
 from this ? Moses has told you, ' Cursed is every 
 one that abideth not in all things written in the book 
 of the law to do them ;' and again he has told you, 
 ' Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree ;' and 
 the Messiah is to redeem you from the curse of the 
 broken law, and your lamented friend has been 
 hanged on a tree, — and does not the grand and cheer- 
 ing inference meet you at the very threshhold ? What 
 meaneth the brazen serpent Vvhich Moses raised for the 
 healing of the people ? Have you altogether forgotten 
 
252 MEDITATlOxVS. 
 
 the opposition of the kings and princes of the earth to 
 Jehovah, and to his Son, as it is described in the sec- 
 ond Psalm, and the P^'Iessiah's sufferings in the twenty- 
 second and the sixty-ninth Psalms, and the glory which 
 was to follow ? But if all this has escaped your atten- 
 tion, how was it possible for you to overlook what Isaiah 
 says of the small beginning of the Messiah's reign, 
 of his sufferings, reproaches, and death, as the atone- 
 ment for the sins of a world ; of the opposition of the 
 Jews to their own Saviour, and of the previous salva- 
 tion of the heathen world before Israel will return to 
 God as a people, and look upon him whom they have 
 pierced ? Are all your priests and scribes able to ex- 
 plain to you that portion of Isaiah which begins, "Be- 
 hold, my servant shall deal prudently, etc." unless they 
 admit that the Messiah is first to die for your sins, and 
 then to rise and to reign forever ? They are not, nor 
 will they ever be able. Is not the Messiah to be smit- 
 ten as a shepherd, and his disciples to be scattered as 
 sheep ^ Is not ' the Messiah ' to be ' cut off, but not 
 for himself,' 'to finish the transgression, and to make 
 an end of sins, and to make reconciliation for iniquity, 
 and to bring in everlasting righteousness, and to seal 
 up the visions and prophecy, and to anoint the most 
 holy,' his spiritual sanctuary, the church on earth, and 
 prepare the temple not made with hands, eternal in the 
 heavens, for the reception of all his followers into 
 never-ending rest and glory t 
 
 Thus, only more at large and infinitely better, did 
 our blessed Lord expound to the astonished pilgrims of 
 Emmaus the law and the prophets, and indeed, " the 
 whole counsel of God." And above all things, he in- 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 253 
 
 troduced tliem into tlie great secret of his kingdom, 
 namely, that the way to glory for Christ himself, for 
 his word, his doctrine, and his people, leads through 
 Gethsemane, over Calvary, through the valley of the 
 shadow of death, through shame and blame unde- 
 served, through much weakness, tribulation, and fear. 
 A secret -which neither the world nor Satan will under- 
 stand, though they hear it ringing in their ears from 
 every truly Christian pulpit, until they shall see the 
 Son of man cominjj in the clouds of heaven with 
 power and great glory. Such scenes have been 
 repeated on a larger or smaller scale, innumerable 
 times. It is but a icw years since, that, in some 
 Christian countries, unbelieving hirelings were ob- 
 truded by the civil arm upon a thousand congrega- 
 tions, to feed the poor people with the empty straw of 
 moral essays, and with the apostate speculations of 
 corrupt universities ; and to approach, in the midst of 
 God's church and people, the throne of glory with 
 senseless, heartless, printed mockeries, in the form of 
 prayers and liturgies. Strict attendance to divine wor- 
 ship was ordered, and every kind and degree of method- 
 ism and mysticism, i. e., all social prayer-meetings, and 
 Bible-reading, and pious conversation, severely for- 
 bidden. Many were doomed to prison, many were beat- 
 en, many who could fly, fled. In another country, 
 which then professed great attachment to vital godli- 
 ness, the proceedings of the Bible society were stopped 
 at once ; pious ministers were exiled, unheard and un- 
 condemned, and the people were left like sheep with- 
 out a shepherd. And I have seen the effects with my 
 eyes, and heard them with my ears. O, what pale 
 22* 
 
254 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 faces ! O, what sighs, doubts, and fears ! " We 
 trusted that it had been he who should have re- 
 deemed Israel ! " But to these, and all in similar 
 distress, we can onlj say, " O, (ye) fools and 
 slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have 
 spoken ! " Come, open your blessed Bible, read its 
 pages, and in the light thereof, view once more the 
 changing scenes of this world ; and you will soon per- 
 ceive a mutual agreement and a symmetry which 
 abundantly demonstrate the presence of a divine hand 
 in either case. Why is Abel slain, and Cain permitted 
 to live ? Why is Enoch, whose pious influence was 
 so much needed, taken away, while Nimrod builds 
 cities and towers, and plants kingdoms, and tyrannizes 
 over the world ? Why is Abraham a wanderer and 
 stranger, while the Canaanite possesses and defiles the 
 land of promise .•* Why must Jacob flee, and Esau 
 remain in the paternal house } Why is David a 
 fugitive in the earth, while the reprobated Saul pos- 
 sesses the kingdom ? Why must Jonathan, the noble, 
 pious prince, fall in battle, and Ishbosheth live to 
 trouble David, and by his ambition to occasion the 
 slaughter of thousands ? Why are the prophets of 
 Jehovah killed by Jezebel, like sheep, and the priests 
 of Baal and Ashtaroth live and riot upon the sweat of 
 the poor, and corrupt the ignorant ? Why must 
 Elijah, who had been very jealous for the Lord, the 
 God of hosts, make his escape like a thief, and Jezebel 
 remain on her throne, to reestablish the impure wor- 
 ship of Jupiter, and of Venus ? Why must the infant 
 Jesus flee to Egypt, and Herod sit quietly in Jerusa- 
 lem ? And why were the holy prophets constantly 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 255 
 
 ''persecuted and slain," and why did the apostles die 
 the death of martyrs, and Stephen with them, and 
 multitudes of others? Why ? The kingdom of Christ 
 is not of this world, and the disciple is not above his 
 master, nor servant above his lord. This is the straight 
 and narrow path which leadeth unto life, and there 
 is none other. But be of good cheer, you who 
 suffer for righteousness' sake, — your path leads unto 
 life. Though Herod be king on earth, and Caiphas 
 be high-priest, Jesus is both King and high-priest in 
 heaven. 
 
 III. KuL \vc must hasten to return to our travellers, 
 fjr they arc already drawing near to Emmaus. 
 
 While the dear stranger uttered his " gracious 
 words," Cleophas and his companion observed the 
 most profound and respectful silence. They listened 
 as to words of eternal life; and indeed that they would 
 have been, had they been accompanied by no higher 
 gift. But when Jesus speaks, he speaks more than 
 words. While speaking, he communicated to their 
 minds that heavenly unction, without which no true 
 knowledge of divine things ever existed. He opened 
 their minds, that they understood the Scriptures. They 
 were distinctly conscious of this fact, though their 
 attention was not called to it until " he vanished out of 
 their sight." "Did not our hearts burn within us 
 while he talked with us by the way, and while he 
 opened to us the Scriptures .''" That I interpret this 
 passage rightly, you may see from a comparison of 
 V. 45, where it is said in reference to the apostles, 
 *' Then opened he (Christ) their understanding, that 
 
256 MEDITATIONS* 
 
 they might understand the Scriptures. Here, the mean- 
 ing cannot be restricted fo mere verbal expositions of 
 Scripture passages; for that privilege, the apostles had 
 enjoyed for some three years, and still, their understand- 
 ing was most evidently not " opened." On this impor- 
 tant subject I shall have more to say, when. Providence 
 permitting, we shall come to a consideration of the 
 passage just quoted. Here it may suffice to observe, 
 that the thing spoken of in either passage is that divine 
 illumination of the mind by which the spiritual meaning, 
 beauty and power of divine truth is revealed to the 
 quickened and sanctified apprehension of man. This 
 divine light is the exclusive privilege of the renewed 
 heart ; and is common to all the children of God. It 
 is distinct from the spirit of inspiration afterwards 
 communicated to the apostles, as we shall see on that 
 future opportunity already alluded to. It is distinct 
 also from the oral instruction of Christ. Hundreds of 
 times he had given oral instruction to thousands ; but 
 it is no where said that he opened the understanding 
 of the people or even of the apostles ; nor did they in 
 reality ever understand him wholly. Here, this gift is 
 first mentioned ; it is mentioned distinct from the oral 
 instructions themselves, and therefore differs from 
 them, if the evangelist spoke sense. 
 
 O that I could now dip my pen in the river of 
 life, or in the crystal sea, or in the rainbow around 
 the throne of God, to portray, in all its supernat- 
 ural beauty, the wondrous moment when the heavy 
 scales from sin and gross sense drop from the eyes 
 of the repenting sinner, and the realities of the king- 
 dom of heaven are revealed to him through the mirror 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 257 
 
 of the divine Word ! Men and brethren, it is no vis- 
 ion, no dream, no morbid state of mind. It is 
 sound, wakeful reality ; and the mind which expe- 
 riences what I say, is calm as the breathless ocean 
 and clear as a sunbeam, and is the new-created star 
 of Bethlehem, On the contrary, the common frame of 
 mind, in which we are by nature, appears then com- 
 paratively like a distressing, feverish dream, like a 
 strange delirium, or stupor, to which we look back 
 with terror and amazement. 
 
 If you permit me an imperfect comparison, I 
 should liken a man whose mind becomes enlighten- 
 ed on divine subjects, to a lost traveller groping 
 through the blackness of night, amid the howling of a 
 storm and the pelting rain. The country is unknown 
 to him, and perilous ; and he feels carefully his un- 
 certain and slippery way with his staff, to avoid the 
 precipices which surround him. O hov/ he wislies for 
 the day ! At last, the east begins to dawn ; he can 
 select his steps; his path seems to lie on an eminence, 
 but the valley beneath and the horizon around arc still 
 wrapt in a thick, impenetrable fog. As yet, all is 
 dreariness and chill, and heaven and earth seem to be 
 in sackcloth. By and by, the golden sun rises, and 
 
 " Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, 
 
 The flocking shadows pale 
 
 Troop to the infernal jail, 
 
 Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave." 
 
 The gilded mountain tops proclaim a clear and cheer- 
 ful day ; the rays of the sun pierce the vapors in a 
 
253 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 thousand directions ; cloud after cloud takes wing, 
 and speeds away, till they leave to our traveller 
 the wonderful spectacle of a boundless landscape, 
 set with all the jewelry of the morning dew, and 
 glowing with the purity and the freshness of par- 
 adise as far and wide as the eye can reach. But 
 what have we been about ? Has our " parable" done 
 at all justice to its subject ? Can a mere shadow do 
 justice to reality ? Verily, I am tired myself of words 
 and comparisons so unfit for my purpose. O that I 
 could open the eyes of those here who do not under- 
 stand me, to see my meaning. How astonished would 
 they be, and how would we all rejoice together in the 
 blessed contemplation and prospect of a better world ! 
 But to give you that illumination of mind, is the pre- 
 rogative of Jesus ; and to him must I commend your 
 case. Remember this — you know not what your 
 Bible is ; you never will know it till you seek and find 
 the light of heaven. 
 
 IV. We hasten to the close. 
 
 Our pilgrims have now arrived at Emmaus. They 
 stand before the door of that pious family where the 
 two disciples intended to put up for the night. The 
 stranger wants to proceed ; but they urge him to re- 
 main. "Abide with us, for it is toward evening and 
 the day is far spent." How can we, dearest brother, 
 part with thee so soon ? Our hearts long to be filled 
 with thy blessed company, pious stranger ; and then, 
 it is evening, and the night comes apace, and we should 
 
THE Walk to emmaus. 259 
 
 love so much to make thee comfortable here. Abide 
 ^ith us, dearest one, and if thou wilt condescend to 
 teach us still farther, we will listen to thee, and pray 
 and hope and rejoice with thee till the rising sun, and 
 then thou shalt depart in peace. Therefore, " abide 
 with us." The stranger yields, and they enter in. 
 Soon the frugal supper is prepared, and they sit down 
 to the meal. The dignified stranger assumes the place 
 and office of the host, and the two travellers cheer- 
 fully and respectfully yield to him that privilege. He 
 takes the bread and looks up ; they look on with 
 amazement ; — " what a look is this ! what a glance 
 into the third heaven ! is this our dear no, im- 
 possible ! " — He gives thanks, — and they are ready 
 to sink to the ground with wonder, fear, and joy. — 
 *'It is his voice — it is his voice !" Now their eyes 
 are opened. "Yes, these are his very looks, — and 
 we knew him not, the dearest master ! " They rise to 
 clasp him in their arms ; but he vanishes out of 
 their sight. To paint their surprise and their feel- 
 ings, would be a vain endeavor. Their hearts over- 
 flow with joy. The supper remains untouched on the 
 table ; and, late as it is, they go, yea, they run back 
 to Jerusalem, to bring word to the eleven. Breath- 
 less, they burst into the room. They find them in one 
 place assembled, and as they enter, it echoes from 
 every side, " the Lord has risen, and has appeared to 
 Simon," "Yea, and to us too," they reply, and re- 
 late the whole of the event, interrupting one another 
 in their haste, 
 
 ^' Did not our hearts burn within us, while he talked 
 
260 mlditaTions. 
 
 with us ? " Indeed, and well might they. Divine 
 knowledge gives divine joy. The man whose religion 
 consists in cold speculation and a cheerless orthodoxy, 
 is a starving, perishing soul. But that man who feels 
 his sins forgiven and his iniquities pardoned, who 
 knows his name written in heaven and his peace made 
 with God, that man's heart burns. Away he flies to 
 seek like-feeling souls, that may help his inexperienced 
 voice to strike up a joyful psalm of gratitude and love. 
 " Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speak- 
 eth." Taught by the unction of which we spoke, he 
 knows, he feels what the unbelieving scholar's eye, or 
 ear, or heart never experienced; he feels the meaning 
 of the sacred poet, when he sings, " My beloved spake, 
 and said unto me. Rise up, my love, my fair one, and 
 come away. For lo, the ivirdcr is past, the rain is over, 
 and gone ; the flowers appear on the earth ; the time of 
 the singing of l)irds is come, and the voice of the turtle 
 is heard in our land. Already the fig-tree embalmeth 
 her fruit, and the budding vines smell sweetly. Arise, 
 my love, my fair one, and come away. O thou, my 
 dove in the clefts of the rocks and in the hiding-places of 
 the rough precipice ! Let me goo thy countenance, let 
 me hear thy voice ; for sweet is thy voice, and thy 
 countenance is comely. Take us the foxes, the little 
 foxes which destroy the vineyard ; for our vineyards 
 are all one blossom. It is enough that my beloved is 
 mine, and I am his, — his, who feedeth among the 
 lilies. At the evening breeze, O my friend, and when 
 the stretching shadows flee awav, then return thou 
 unto me, like a roe or a young hart over the dividing 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 261 
 
 hills." And let no profane and worldly-minded sage 
 check or mock the sacred overflowings of the new- 
 born soul ; or let him first take away the soothing, 
 healing power of the balm of Gilead and destroy the 
 consolations of the cross of Christ, the soul-stirring 
 energies of eternal truth, and the powers of the world 
 to come. Let him not dare to stretch beyond his line, 
 (short, alas, it is !) nor judge of things which he never 
 felt. As well might you prevent the birds from sing- 
 ing, and the lilies from blossoming when the genial 
 powers of spring move in the bosom of the earth. 
 Are there any of my readers, whose hearts neveu 
 burnt as he spoke unto them and as he opened to them 
 the scriptures ? Your case is one which calls for 
 tender pity ; your life is not worth having ; and if 
 you die as you lived, your existence is a curse. But 
 your case is one, too, which calls for unsparing re- 
 proof. Our disciples, as they walked along, "talked 
 together of all these things which had happened " at 
 Jerusalem, — and then ''Jesus himself drew near and 
 went with them. ^* But of what have you talked by the 
 way, thus far; of what are you talking ? Give now, 
 I pray you, glory to the Lord and make confession 
 unto him : have you not talked about anything but 
 Christ and his cross .'* Of fashions, amusements, of 
 politics and literature, at best, you converse ; and is 
 religion not worth one of your moments .'' Say now, 
 what would be your feelings if some Christian friend 
 should endeavor to talk with you faithfully on the sub- 
 ject of religion ? You know it, and I know it too ; 
 but do you think that thus Jesus himself will ever 
 draw near to you and walk with you .'* Never ! 
 23 
 
!262 M£r)ITATlONS. 
 
 But you, who know the love of Christ, let us close 
 this meditation by joining with one consent in the 
 petition of our two pilgrim brethren. Lord ! '* abide 
 with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far 
 spent." Some of us have passed the meridian of life, 
 and our evening may soon draw near. When our sun 
 sets and our eyes grow dim, when the night of death 
 surrounds us, and every earthly comfort fails, ■ — O, 
 then " abide with us ! " When we can no more read 
 thy Word, when our tongues can no more talk of all 
 these things, nor our ears perceive the voice of prayer 
 and Christian consolation and sympathy, — O, then 
 *' abide with us ! " Or if the sun of every earthly 
 comfort must set upon us, if contempt, or poverty, or 
 nakedness, or hunger, or persecution, or peril by land 
 and sea, or the solitude of a long and painful sick bed 
 must ever try our faith and obedience, and no Chris- 
 tian brother can stand by us, — O, then "abide thou 
 with us." Let us but hear thy voice, saying, It is I, 
 fear not ; and we will not fear, not murmur. Or if 
 we must long sojourn in Mesech and dwell in the tents 
 of Kedar ; if our souls must long dwell with them 
 that hate peace, far, far away, at a hopeless dis- 
 tance, from the earthly sanctuary of our God where 
 our friends and kindred dwell; — O, then "abide 
 with us," for it is evening with us — it is evening; 
 our best years are gone by, and our day is far spent. 
 When none will walk with us, then draw thou near. 
 When none will speak with us, then speak thou unto 
 us words of life and joy ; come in and .tarry with us, 
 and bless and break unto us the bread of life. If thou 
 be with us, we will be content while we live. We 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 263 
 
 will remember that our life is but a hasty pilgrimage, 
 but three score furlongs, but a vapor which appeareth 
 for a little while, a shadow, a short and foolish dream; 
 but that 
 
 " There is a land of pure delight 
 Where saints immortal n ign," 
 
 and where we shall see thee whom our soul loveth, 
 and all thy people, forever. Amen. 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 XII. 
 
 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 LUKE XXTV, 36—48; JOHN XX, 19-23. 
 
 And as they thus spake, Jesus himself stood in the midst of them, and saitk 
 onto them, Peace be unto you. But they were terrified and affrighted, and sup- 
 posed that they had seen a spirit. And he said unto them. Why are ye troubled f 
 and why do thoughts arise in your hearts ? Behold my hands and my feet, that 
 it is I myself: handle me, and see; for a spirit halh not flesh and bones, at ye les 
 me have. And when he had thus spoken, he shewed them his hands and his feet* 
 And while thiy yet believed not for joy, and wondered, he said unto them. Have 
 ye here any meat? And they gave him a piece of a broiled fish, and of an honey* 
 eomb. And he took it, and did eat before them. And he said unto them, Theta 
 are the words which 1 spake unio you, while f was yet with you, that all thingti 
 must be fulfilled which were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, an4 
 in the Psalms, concerning me. Then opened hn their understanding, that they 
 might understand the scriptures, and said unto them, Thus it is written, and thai 
 it behoveth Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day: And that 
 repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all da- 
 tions, beginning at Jerusalem. And ye are witnesses of these things. 
 
 Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the dooH 
 were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, came Jesns; 
 and stood in the midst, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you. And when h« 
 
 23* 
 
t66 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 kid so said, fan ihewed onto them his hands and his side. TJien were the disci- 
 plea glad when they saw the Lord. Then said Jesus to them again. Peace be 
 Uiito yuu : as my Father hath sent me, even so send I you. And when he had 
 •sid this, he breathed on them, and saith unto them. Receive ye the Holy Ghost. 
 Whose soever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them ; and whose soever sins 
 ye retain, they are retained. 
 
 Nothing would be more imperfect and inadequate, 
 than to suppose the various appearances of our Lord, 
 after his resurrection, were intended merely to con- 
 vince his disciples and other followers of his being 
 risen from the dead. Such a view would confine us 
 <o the mere fraction of a plan, deep-cast, penetrating 
 both the minds of men and the veil of futurity, beyond 
 everything predicable of a man^s contrivance in the 
 exercise of his most unusual powers. We must keep 
 in mind, that when we hear of the resurrection of 
 Christ, a very different idea is conveyed to our minds, 
 if we possess at all a knowledge of the sacred scrip- 
 tures, from that which the disciples could have de- 
 rived from such tidings. They had no New Testament 
 ip their hands ; no eighteen Christian centuries be- 
 hind them, to unlock unto them the profound significa- 
 tion of their Lord's resurrection. He is risen from 
 t^e dead ! Joyful news ! But the first idea which 
 must have struck them, is : well, Lazarus also was 
 raised from the dead, and several others in past times. 
 But, of course they rose again merely to live a few 
 jr^ars longer, and then to die again and sleep with 
 their fathers. Is the resurrection of our Lord like 
 unto theirs ? And why should it not .? He will live 
 with us ; he will teach us a few years more ; he will 
 perhaps, after all, establish some earthly kingdom, and 
 on his ultimate peaceful and honorable exit from this 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. '267 
 
 world, will leave Israel, and perhaps the whole world, 
 in that condition of perfect piety, peace, and prosper- 
 ity, for which we are sighing. How inadequate this, 
 though much improved, conception would have been, 
 and how unlike to the transcendingly spiritual plan of 
 Christ, needs no mention. Or, they might have 
 thought, some of the saints too, which slept, have 
 risen and ** appeared unto many," and so is he also 
 risen, and they will go to heaven together, and we 
 shall by and by follow them and be forever happy 
 with them ; and this is all which he means by 
 his appearing unto us. Comfortable indeed would 
 this idea have been, but still how short of the whole 
 reality before us, is obvious again. They needed 
 to be taught, not merely that he was risen from the 
 dead^ but also that his existence was, though really 
 bodily^ yet so spiritual at the same time, and so di- 
 vinely independent as to be calculated for a rational 
 and moral foundation upon which was to be reared the 
 great doctrine of the spiritual, yet real, communion 
 and intercourse which he held with the apostles and 
 still holds with every believer to the ends of the earth, 
 and to the utmost limits of time : an intercourse, you 
 remember, which no glorified saint in heaven can 
 hold with you, and infinitely less with all believers 
 over the world. With the whole mature and profound 
 conception and conviction of this his elevated exist- 
 ence after his resurrection, there stood necessarily 
 and closely connected the whole nature of his future 
 plans, his kingdom, the means of its promotion, the 
 certainty of its success, the spiritual interests of each 
 Christian personally in time and eternity, and the 
 great question of a glorious resurrection of the just : 
 
268 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 a subject, of whose close connection with and depend- 
 ence upon the resurrection of Christ, the apostle 
 speaks in 1 Cor. xv. 12 — 18. Of these all-important, 
 but at that time altogether novel subjects, the disciples 
 were to conceive as well as we, and to believe them. 
 But, more than this, they were to teach, defend, 
 prove, enforce them before high and low, to fill the 
 world with them, and to die in attestation of their 
 reality and importance. Their conviction was to be- 
 come in part the ground of the conviction of genera- 
 tions to come. The church was to be reared upon it. 
 What depth, then, what satisfactory fullness, what 
 unquestionable sobriety and reality must have char- 
 acterized their conviction of all this, if they were to 
 perform the task, and we to rest upon it with an ease 
 and assurance sufficient to hold out in the trying hour 
 of death ! I know that he might have made them fit 
 preachers of the gospel, in all respects, in the twink- 
 ling of an eye, by a touch of creative power ; and so 
 might he have fitted stones and might fit them now for 
 the purpose ; but just as he now chooses to cause di- 
 vine truth to flow from the lips of him who felt it, and 
 not from an unconscious machinery of wheels and 
 springs ; just as he now chooses that face should speak 
 to face, eye beam upon eye, that the living voice of 
 man should roll on and carry thrilling conviction, not 
 from stone to heart, but from heart to heart, and light 
 and life, not from matter to mind, but from mind to 
 mind, and the undying spark of divine love from 
 bosom to bosom ; so did he then choose that the sensi- 
 tive experience, the intellectual conviction, and the 
 moral sensibilities of man should be the ground upon 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 269 
 
 which was to rest the great truth of a divine Savior 
 from sin and ruin ; so that while there remaineth yet 
 on earth the absolutely necessary principle of civil 
 justice and common intercourse — I mean human ex- 
 perience and testimony — while there is yet a spark of 
 sound intellect burning under heaven, and an unbroken 
 cord of moral sensibilities, there shall also not be 
 wanting on earth believers in Jesus, till he shall come 
 to judge the world in righteousness. 
 
 But if the disciples were to attain to such concep- 
 tions, to gather such a conviction, to prepare for a 
 work so great, opportunities were to be afforded, 
 assistance was to be granted, stumbling-blocks to be 
 removed from their way, the senses touched, reason 
 convinced, and the sensibilities of their hearts tuned 
 and disposed. All this was done to perfection during 
 the forty days from Christ's resurrection to his ascen- 
 sion, and with an adaptation of means and a wise 
 economy altogether worthy of him whose work the 
 whole is. 
 
 The parts into which I shall divide this discourse, 
 will neither be exhausted nor relinquished to-day. 
 The subsequent appearances of Christ will throw still 
 farther light upon them. Yet, that we may have some 
 definite aim in our remarks and be enabled to remem- 
 ber them the better, I propose the following arrange- 
 ment : 
 
 I. What impression did our Lord wish to leave on 
 the minds of his disciples, upon the subject of his 
 existence ? 
 
 II. How did he remove the moral hindrances of 
 
270 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 their rising to the new and high idea, which he was to 
 communicate to them ? 
 
 III. How did he convince their senses ? and 
 
 IV. How their understanding .'* 
 
 I. The first impression to be made on the minds of 
 the disciples, was, that the resurrection of Christ was 
 an entirely different one from that of the widow's son 
 at Nain, and from that of Lazarus. Such a resurrec- 
 tion, such a state of existence, altogether a common, 
 material, mortal one, would of course have led them 
 to suppose that Christ would resume his office as 
 a teacher, a rabbi ; would have confirmed them in the 
 belief, and justly, that he intended, after all, to organ- 
 ize an earthly kingdom, whatever spiritual conceptions 
 they might have strove to entertain respecting it ; and 
 would have necessarily disqualified them for the charge 
 they were about to receive. New conversations, new 
 discourses, reproofs and alterations in the temple, new 
 journeys about the country, new external, material 
 cures, new merely sensitive miracles and wonders; all 
 this, and much more, would have been identified with 
 his return, though miraculous, to the same bodily exist- 
 ence as before; and instead of raising their conceptions 
 higher, instead of exercising their faith, and awakening 
 their intellect : instead of spiritualizing and ennobling 
 their attachment to him, and their ideas of his charac- 
 ter, and their motives, and desires at large, and in- 
 stead of preparing them for the proclamation of an en- 
 tirely spiritual kingdom, the coarser idea of an external 
 theocracy would have been justified and deepened, and 
 their dependence upon the bodily presence, and the 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 271 
 
 oral instructions of their Lord confirmed ; while the 
 operations, the light, the diverse, quickening, en- 
 larging, purifying influences of the divine Spirit, and 
 all " the power of the world to come " would have re- 
 mained unknown to them, because their value and ne- 
 cessity could never have been felt. This is obvious. 
 " It is expedient for you," said Christ, a short time 
 before his sufferings, " that I go away ; for if I go not 
 away, the Comforter will not come unto you ; but if I 
 depart, I will send him unto you." If the dispensation 
 of symbols and shadows, of external laws and precepts, 
 of earthly promises and threatenings, of temporal re- 
 wards and punishments, was to give room to a spiritual 
 dispensation, with the divine law written on men's 
 hearts, and not upon tablets of stone ; if promises and 
 threatenings, rewards and punishments, were to become 
 all spiritual, eternal ; if the high-priest and king of the 
 new dispensation, the dispenser of its blessings, and ex- 
 ecutor of its comminations was to become accessible, not 
 to the inhabitants of Judea merely, but to every sinner 
 under heaven, not to one generation of men, but to ev- 
 ery generation to the end of time: then it is plain that, if 
 indeed he begun his career as an humble rabbi, an in- 
 spired prophet on earth, he must, at some period, wing 
 his way to a state of existence, to a degree of dig- 
 nity and power, corresponding to his offices and to his 
 relation to the spiritual and everlasting kingdom in 
 question. His dispensation could rise only with him. 
 If the saving principle of this dispensation was to be 
 faith, and not works, (and works can never save!) if 
 faith in him ^^and Scripture passages without number 
 almost can be adduced to establish this) if this faith in 
 
272 MEDITATIONS. * 
 
 him was first to be grounded upon rational evidence, 
 and ultimately upon experience, not sensitive, but 
 spiritual : then his material presence must have been 
 withdrawn, his existence must have become one of om- 
 nipresence, and the evidence of unsuspicious testi- 
 mony, so far as the nature of the case can admit of it, 
 must be provided. His omnipresence is a matter of 
 spiritual experience with every believer ; the unsuspi- 
 cious testimony was the chief care of our Lord after 
 his resurrection, as we shall see. During the remark- 
 able day, whose last scene we are now contemplating, 
 a beginning only could be made of this, and hence, as 
 I have already intimated, this topic cannot be finished 
 to-day, but will be pursued hereafter. 
 
 Let us see how our Lord began this great work. 
 Air ady in his appearance to Mary, we meet with the 
 remarkable circumstance that she did not recognize 
 her beloved master, though she saw his form, and 
 heard his voice. That she equally mistook the angels 
 in the sepulchre for Joseph's men, is not so strange, 
 because she had, of course, never seen them before, 
 and their appearance seems to have been simply that 
 of a couple of young men. But Christ she knew, she 
 sought : and yet she did not know him, till he made 
 himself known. Considering, however, her state of 
 mind, I should not insist upon this circumstance alone, 
 if it did not recur time and again, and under cir- 
 cumstances which render it still more surprising. In 
 the afternoon, two disciples and intimate friends of 
 Christ go to Emmaus ; he appears to them, — he con- 
 versed with them : he astonished them with his pro- 
 found knowledge of divine things : they had already 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 273 
 
 heard of Christ's resurrection, they were in no pecu- 
 liar excitement of mind, they conceive a particular 
 attachment to him, inviting him to abide with them ; 
 in short, they hear him, they listen to him with atten- 
 tion, they see him, they look at him with searching 
 interest, no doubt, and all this probably for more than 
 an hour ; and yet they do not know him, nor recog- 
 nize at all either his features or his voice, until he 
 makes himself known. Similar instances will recur 
 hereafter. Different were the cases of the youth of 
 Nain and of Lazarus ; everybody knew them after 
 their resurrection, we should conclude. Again : He 
 is no sooner recognized by the two pilgrims, when he 
 vanishes out of sight, or literally, " He becomes invisi- 
 ble." Some would make us believe that this passage 
 merely meant he quickly retired from them, so that 
 they saw him no more. But this is not only forcing 
 the word aqpai'To;^ invisible, but it also jars against the 
 whole tenor of the history of Christ's resurrection. 
 A little before, or after, the scene of Emmaus, Christ 
 appeared to Peter ; and this apostle, in his usuaJ 
 ardor, immediately calls the eleven together, and com- 
 municates to them the fact. While they sit, some doubt- 
 ing, some wondering and rejoicing, the two pilgrims 
 arrive, and tell their tidings of joy. Their testimony, 
 too, receives but partial credence ; i. e. some doubted 
 still, and while they are yet comparing facts, and talking 
 to each other, then, when the doors were shut (John) 
 where the disciples were assembled, for fear of the 
 Jews, " cams Jesus and stood in the midst, and saith 
 unto them, ' Peace be unto you ! ' " How did he 
 come .'' Some say he knocked at the door, and they 
 24 
 
274 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 opened to him •, others, and those well-disposed men, 
 say, he opened the door by his miraculous power, for 
 (and this is what both parties urge, and it is all they 
 urge) it is not said, he came through the locked up 
 doors, but simply he came while the doors were shut. 
 What an unworthy play with serious words ! How 
 can a man be said to come in while the doors are shut, 
 when these doors are actually opened to him, be it by 
 natural or supernatural power ? Can a door be called 
 shut when it is opened ? So should we come in, the 
 doors being shut, if there be any doors in a house, for 
 thev are shut, and often locked when we come. But 
 the fact is, when a locked door is unlocked, then we 
 pass through the door, it being open, and not shut. 
 Why the apostle did not say he came through the 
 locked doors, is obvious. He did not know at all 
 which way he came. He came, and this is all the evan- 
 gelist knows and all he says about his coming ; but 
 he knows, also, and he says it, too, that when Christ 
 came, the doors were shut, and not open. Moreover, 
 the disciples "were affrighted and terrified, and sup- 
 posed that they had seen a spirit." How was this 
 possible, or at least, natural, if there was not some- 
 thing in the manner of his appearing, which led them 
 into that mistake ! But what could that have been ? 
 That Christ was risen, they knew and believed ; he 
 was able, long before his resurrection, to open doors 
 that were locked, and they were abundantly used to 
 gee him perform such works, on proper occasions. 
 But his coming in when the doors were shut, this was 
 something new, surprising to them, something which 
 led them to think that what they saw was, at all events, 
 
TFIE GREAT EVENING. 275 
 
 not flesh and bones. Again : Christ appeared to tho 
 women, and how did he know where they were, and 
 walked ? How did he know the two disciples are 
 taking a walk to Kmmaus, and are going to talk '* of 
 all these things r " How did he find Peter alone ? 
 How did he know the apostles are now assembled in 
 their private room ? Not indeed by an espionage 
 most unworthy of him ; and who could have been his 
 spy ? The following impressions must, therefoie, have 
 been made on the disciples' minds, though tacitly : 
 His existence is one of whose laws we have no con- 
 ception ; where he chooses to be, there he is ; what 
 we do, and think, and purpose, }]e knows ; and the 
 laws of matter have no power over him. And what was 
 the most natural consequence of this impression, took 
 place, — they supposed he had no body at all, but was 
 pure spirit. But this was not the conclusiori he wished 
 them to draw. He had promised to rise from the dead, 
 and this meant, doubtless, thai his body should rise ? 
 for spirits are neither buried, nor do they die, nor do 
 they rise from the dead. This is obvious. Hence it 
 was important that they should know his body is risen, 
 though the mode of its existence be inconceivable; and 
 he gives them all the evidence of the great fact which 
 the nature of the case admits of I'hey see him, they 
 hear him, they touch him : the evidence of three 
 senses is afforded. He eats before them, they can re- 
 sist no longer, they believe, yea, they know and are 
 convinced he is in very deed risen from the dead, what- 
 soever of the marvellous and inconceivable may be con- 
 mected with this fact. 
 
276 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 II. Whenever objects visible are not discerned, 
 the difficulty is not in the objects, but in the eye. 
 When the thrill of sweet harmony does not ravish, or 
 the grating jar distress us, the sound was just what it 
 was ; but our ears are dull of hearing, or uncultivated. 
 Mathematical truth is just as true as ever it was, 
 though it may appear nonsense to a whole country, or 
 world. How much more, then, must divine truth be 
 the same, and blameless, though she be unheard, un- 
 felt forever by you or me. The cause why so many 
 misapprehensions and errors prevail in this world, 
 is that there are infinite degrees of capacity, in- 
 finitely divers likiugs, preferences, prejudices, etc. 
 in men. The things that are, are, of course, the same 
 to all, if all could or would see and perceive alike. 
 The various causes adduced by Bacon, which influ- 
 ence and misguide our mind in reference to intellec- 
 tual matters, are so many and so powerful, that the 
 view of them is perfectly appalling, and it requires a 
 deep sense of the preciousness of truth, and a strong 
 desire to possess it, if a man is still to engage in the 
 seemingly hopeless pursuit. But the dire dilemma is 
 before him. Think, meditate, or be a brute, — fight 
 or die, — and he presses on. But what hindrances, 
 do you think, must exist in reference to things spirit- 
 ual, religious, and higher than the heavens, especially 
 to a fallen, blind, distracted worm, like man. But the 
 still dire dilemma is before him. Think, meditate, 
 seek the light of heaven, or perish, fight or die the 
 second death. A few only of these causes of error 
 we can notice here, as having existed in the disciples, 
 and we shall see how Christ removed them. 
 
THE GREAT EVENIIVG. 277 
 
 They had, from infancj, imbibed a set of notions 
 about the Messiah and his kingdom, through which, as 
 through colored glasses, they looked upon every pas- 
 sage of holy writ, and upon every parable and senti- 
 ment which their master uttered in their hearing. Not 
 that he did not succeed in improving and ennobling 
 their conceptions, in removing some of the grosser 
 errors, and in instilling such positive truths into their 
 minds, as they were able and willing to bear. He 
 certainly did. But their old set of notions needed to 
 be plucked up by the roots, and this was hard, and re- 
 quired time and means, unless they were to be handled 
 like stones, which God never intended that they 
 should. Christ improved, removed, replaced their 
 notions on the subject of his person, character, and 
 kingdom, during the three years of his sojourning with 
 them, so far as they were willing, and almost beyond 
 what they were willing, as those instances of reproof 
 to Peter, Philip, and several times to all of them, evi- 
 dently show. Time forbids to cite the passages which 
 I hope are familiar to you all. The remainder of their 
 system to which they clave with a blind temerity which 
 yielded to no verbal instructions — that was explo- 
 ded when their master expired on the cross, and 
 when his lifeless corpse was deposited in the silent 
 grave. O, now it was gone, the golden dream ! It 
 was gone ! The whole stupendous framework of their 
 longed-for theocracy was ground to dust. The spark 
 of their own kindling was crushed, and who would 
 kindle it again ! How long they had been feeding 
 upon ashes, and building castles in the air ! There 
 they stood, at their wits's end; and if heaven and earth 
 24* 
 
in 
 
 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 had forsaken them, they could not have felt more des- 
 olate, empty, and deserted. A hard moral case ! but 
 an indispensable one, too. While a vessel is full, you 
 can put nothing into it ; but when it is emptied of its 
 contents, then it may become the receptacle of wine, 
 or precious ointment. So they. For three years, 
 Christ had labored with them ; but little was accom- 
 plished. But what they were unwilling to relinquish, 
 the merciful, omnipotent hand of God tore away from 
 them, resistlessly and forever. Now, at last, they were 
 as little children, ready to be filled with divine knowl- 
 edge. The hard cure was rendered necessary by their 
 gtubbornness ; but it was a cure still, and God was 
 the physician. 
 
 There is not a man or woman among my readers, 
 who has not, or had not, a preconceived system of 
 error on the subject of religion. It is impossible that 
 it should be otherwise. The idiot alone has none, or 
 has it but rarely. Some of you may think that in some 
 way or other, all men will be saved ; some, that all 
 moral men (but I should like to have you draw the 
 line, if you can ! ) shall escape ruin ; some may have 
 taken up a dead orthodoxy as the way of salvation ; 
 some a dead philosophy framed by yourselves, or made 
 ready to your hands by others. Whatsoever it may 
 be, depend upon it, if you have not the truth, i. e,, 
 Christ crucified, crucified for you, and living in you, 
 if you have not the truth, then you have " a lie in your 
 right hand " and in your hearts, for you are sure to 
 have some notion about you, be it what it may. Time 
 forbids me to impugn and expose all these errors. I 
 can only pray that the omnipotent hand of God may 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 279 
 
 tear them from you ; that a blast from the Almighty 
 may carry away, merciless, your universalism or your 
 moralism, or your dead orthodoxy, or your dead phi- 
 losophy, or whatsoever may be the perishing founda- 
 tion of your delusive hopes and the treacherous pil- 
 low of your alarming slumber. O, that we might see 
 the blessed time when we could all come here poor, 
 rid of every old, cherished error, ignorant, empty, 
 teachable as little children ! How soon would Christ 
 step in among us, though our doors were shut tight 
 and our houses surrounded by a thousand spies and 
 foes, — and would say to us all, " Peace be unto you.'* 
 O, how soon ! But while you are full of your errors, 
 whatsoever they may be, I ask, and you answer me 
 now honestly, how can you expect to receive the truth, 
 or to be filled with all the fullness of God ? It is im- 
 possible, it is inconceivable, it is hopeless, while the 
 laws of your minds remain as they are. 
 
 2. Want of thought, retirement, reflection, and med- 
 itation, before God, was another difficulty of the disci- 
 ples. With the exception of Nathaniel and John, I 
 am not able to discover in either of them any traces of 
 deeper, habitual meditation, during the three years of 
 Christ^s intercourse with them. Christ, you remem- 
 ber, led them into the wilderness once, and probably 
 as often as they would follow, but generally they suf- 
 fered him to retire alone and kept about the people, 
 about their external duties. An honest and single- 
 hearted performance of external religious duties, gen- 
 eral serious-mindedness, openness to truth to some 
 extent, a desire for better times, and better hearts, 
 and a very lovely and praise-worthy attachment to 
 
280 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 their dear master, is all that I can discover throughout 
 the four gospels. How often did they question him 
 privately about the most easy parables and sentiments, 
 and what they meant ! And Christ reproved them on 
 these occasions several times, for their want of re- 
 flection. 
 
 Little time as I have for digressions in the pres- 
 ent discourse, I cannot let this opportunity pass 
 by, without pointing my hearers to that thing dif- 
 fused as the atmosphere, which brings a blot both 
 upon the heart and intellect of men, and works 
 the effectual ruin af the mass of sinners, — I mean, 
 thoughtlessness on divine subjects. How many a great 
 man has reflected on almost every imaginable sub- 
 ject, save religion ! Napoleon dies with the groan, 
 "France in arms!" and Nelson, rejoicing in the 
 dreadful victory of Trafalgar, yields up his responsible 
 spirit with the sigh, "Bless God, I have done my 
 duty !" Others, filled to the brim with earthborn 
 knowledge, die without the knowledge of Christ. But 
 what is "France in arms! " before the judge of all 
 the earth ? Or the laws of the Olympian games 
 and the Constitution of Great Britain, are they the law 
 of heaven ? They are not. Look now at the me- 
 chanic, the merchant, the scholar, the politician, the 
 soldier, the sailor ! Tell me, how many of them are 
 in the habit of a prayerful contemplation of eternity, or 
 care half as much for the knowledge of God as for 
 skill in their trade. They rise up, they go to eating, 
 to work, to reading, to meals again, to rest, to diver- 
 sions and walks, to evening parties, and to sleep. It 
 is one rolling chain of worldly pursuits and indul- 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. SSl 
 
 gences, from year to year, till death comes and closes 
 the accounts ; their thoughts are anywhere but in 
 their closets ; away they go, like the fool's eyes, to 
 the ends of the earth. O, what a low, mean, daring, 
 alarming wallowing in the mire of this world ! Lift up 
 your countenance, immortal man ! There is a God in 
 heaven, and you are living for eternity ! Lift it up ! 
 lest you perish in the deep, polluting mire. Why will 
 you perish under the open window of heaven ^ But 
 let me ask you here, for I am preaching to you, and 
 not to the people in China, and answer me now before 
 God, the searcher of hearts, where is your hour of 
 contemplation, and when do you shut out the world 
 from your solitary closet, to soar up to the footsteps of 
 the judgment-seat and to the threshhold of heaven, or 
 to descend to the gates of hell, to rouse your slumber- 
 ing soul to a sense of your stupendous responsibility ? 
 Where is it, that hour, that eventful one, out of the 
 twenty-four ? 
 
 Far be it from me to charge the disciples of Christ 
 with that kind and degree of inconsideration which I 
 have just been reproving. No. Still there was some- 
 thing like it in them, and sufficient of it, too, to throw 
 a thick veil over the kingdom and plan of Christ. 
 Christ removed it by driving them to their closets, and 
 to solitude. Since Thursday evening, they were scat- 
 tered, hidden, forsaken, alone. There was time for 
 reflection and thought ; and many a thoughtful, tearful 
 look they may have sent up to heaven. There is a 
 deeper tone of thought perceptible among them 
 throughout, from the two pilgrims to John and Peter. 
 They are stiller, more tender, more pensive, and 
 
282 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 everyway more fit for the higher ideal of the kingdom 
 of Christ. *' Go ye, and do likewise ! " 
 
 3. These, and many other circumstances, rendered 
 them insensible of their need of divine light, to under- 
 stand divine subjects. Thus, to the present day, '* the 
 deep things of God " necessarily remain involved, to 
 every unconverted man, in that haze which makes 
 them foolishness, till the light of heaven beams upon 
 his soul. Their case and ours, in the same frame of 
 mind, are alike. But now, their minds being prepared 
 for the reception of a higher illumination, Christ re- 
 moves the darkness from their minds by opening 
 "their understanding, that they might understand the 
 Scriptures," as he had done to the two disciples walk- 
 ing to Emmaus. 
 
 III. Upon our third topic, we have already touched 
 incidentally. After the testimony of Peter, and of 
 Cleophas and his companion, most of them could no 
 more doubt the fact that the Lord was risen. By the 
 mouth of two, and of three witnesses, this matter was 
 properly established, seeing the witnesses were in their 
 right minds, and had no interest in telling a falsehood; 
 i. e they were obviously able and willing to tell the 
 truth. More than this no bar of justice can demand, 
 nor does demand at present. But (for purposes which 
 will become clear to us before closing this meditation) 
 Jesus had concluded to show himself to them all, this 
 very evening. The manner of his appearing, you know. 
 This was, however, calculated, while it convinced 
 them still farther of the exalted nature of his existence, 
 to throw them into doubts as to tjie rea} resurrection of 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 283 
 
 his body. These new doubts were overcome by new 
 and accumulated proofs of his real bodily resurrection 
 from the dead; i. e., of his resurrection itself, for there 
 is no resurrection conceivable, save that of bodies. 
 He showed unto them his hands, his feet, and his side, 
 to convince them of two facts at a time : 1 , that he had 
 flesh and bones, that he was no mere spirit, and 2, 
 that what they saw and handled, was his own body, 
 the same one which had been crucified three days 
 ago, and thrust through with the spear of a Roman 
 soldier. 
 
 Joy now filled their hearts. But the idea to have 
 him again was so great, so unexpected a one, that 
 they could, on that very account, hardly believe 
 even their senses. Calmly he asks for some meat, 
 sits down and eats before them all. Now joy and con- 
 viction unite, and they gather around him to enjoy the 
 blessed privilege of his presence. 
 
 IV. The evidence of sense, however, loses of its 
 power in proportion to the perturbation of mind, and 
 the excitement of feeling in those who are to bear 
 witness, i. e. in proportion to the witnesses to be heard 
 were deprived of the calm use of their understanding 
 and cool judgment, at the time when they pretended to 
 have been witnesses of the facts to be attested. The 
 good sense of the apostles and the other disciples led 
 them to recognize, themselves, this principle, during 
 the scenes of the day. Angels had appeared to the 
 women, and Christ had appeared to them, and both 
 had given them charges and messages to the disciples, 
 and the brethren of our Lord ; but still they doubted, 
 
284 MEDITATIONS. ^ 
 
 their minds remained suspended. This they carried 
 rather too far, and some seem to have altogether re- 
 jected the testimony of the pious sisters, which they 
 ought not to have done. But they erred on the safe 
 side in this instance, and their fault was kindly re- 
 proved and forgiven. Let us now review the events of 
 this day in reference to our present topic; that we may 
 get a full impression of the harmony and wisdom of its 
 plan. Everywhere the evidence of sense mingled with 
 moral instruction, wakening thought, and self-exami- 
 nation, and calling into exercise every faculty of mind 
 and heart, and all this mingled in divers proportions 
 according to the various exigences of the respective 
 cases. 
 
 In the morning, the slumbering hopes of the whole 
 band of disciples, believers and inquirers, were waked 
 by a moral shock. Women were at the sepulchre, 
 saw angels, saw the Lord, and are bringing tidings 
 from both. Peter and John run there, but see nothing. 
 All this had its obvious and wise purpose. The wo- 
 men receive the first sensible demonstration of the 
 Lord's resurrection — and m ho would not be glad to 
 grant that support to their distressed hearts and their 
 comparatively feeble intellect. Still, where angels ap- 
 pear, a wise economy is practised, and a worthy pur- 
 pose is perceptible. They have an important charge 
 to deliver. The charge of the angels is important, yet 
 it keeps within bounds, does not supercede what the 
 Lord himself has to say, and the words are few, and 
 few as they are, they are still calculated and intended 
 to awaken a train of useful and sacred reflections in 
 the hearts even of the women. The appearance of 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 285 
 
 Christ to Mary we have too fully handled already, to 
 say much more. Only let it be remembered that the 
 flow of her feelings was wisely checked, and thoughts 
 of the most elevated nature were touched like the 
 chords of a harp. All this was sufficient for the females : 
 for they were never intended to become public wit- 
 nesses of Christ's resurrection, and their meeting him 
 is nowhere adduced as a proof of his having risen from 
 the dead. But the disciples, on the contrary, who, 
 being the appointed witnesses of this great fact, were 
 intended to be profoundly convinced, are in the'mean- 
 time left to reflection and consultation, and their minds, 
 you may easily imagine, were powerfully exercised all 
 the day long. How could they help comparing Scrip- 
 ture, and recalling our Lord's sayings ? how should 
 they not have kneeled down together and prayed for 
 light from heaven ? But all remained still and breath- 
 less till evening. The first excitement passes away ; 
 their feelings settle towards evening rather into the 
 apprehension that all may be the effect of imagination. 
 True, neither Joseph of Arimathea, nor anybody else 
 knew where the body had been carried, and that this 
 was passing strange could not be denied. Two men 
 travel to Emmaus ; Christ appears to them, purposely 
 concealing himself until their minds are enlightened, 
 their thoughts awakened, and their understanding 
 stored with divine knowledge : then their eyes are 
 •opened, a.nd he vanishes out of sight. As the evening 
 sets in, another electric shock wakes the disciples, 
 and in a few minutes they are assembled in their pri- 
 vate room, the doors shut. The Lord hath appeared 
 unto Peter — Peter, the sound, affectionate man! The 
 25 
 
286 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 matter is discussed. Peter assures them of the fact, 
 and relates the circumstances. Some believe and re- 
 joice, some doubt. It is already getting somewhat late, 
 when somebody knocks at the door hastily. " Who is 
 it ? who is there .'' " "We are here, Cleophas is 
 here," they whisper without. " Why, we thought you 
 gone to Enimaus," "No matter ; open the door, we 
 bring good and glorious news." To apprehend their 
 tidings was not difficult. But those who believed Peter, 
 exclaim, as they enter, "The Lord hath risen indeed, 
 and hath appeared unto Peter." They sit down, and, 
 half out of breath, tell their story. New astonishment, 
 new discussion, new rejoicings, new doubts. The doors 
 are shut again, of course. All at once, Christ stands 
 in the midst of them. " Peace be unto you!" Though 
 much surprised by the extraordinary manner of his ap- 
 pearing, they are now sufficiently prepared for such a 
 scene to remain masters of themselves. The gentle 
 rebuke of Christ, of which Mark speaks, (xvi. 14) 
 makes them ashamed of their obstinate doubts ; his 
 plain appearance, his accustomed affectionate address, 
 his calmness removes every remainder of excitement, 
 and they are now perfectly able to judge of what they 
 see, and hear, and handle. They see the print of the 
 nails, the scar made by the spear, they feel flesh and 
 bones, they hear the accustomed voice ; he eats of 
 their food, and when all perturbation has subsided, he 
 gathers them around him in the way he was wont to 
 do ; and while he expounds unto them the Scriptures, 
 from Moses and onward, they feel themselves filled 
 with heavenly comfort ; new views burst upon them, 
 new feelings flow from heart to heart. All is ease and 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 287 
 
 peace, calmness and undying reality about them ; and 
 a conviction resting upon external and internal experi- 
 ence is settling deeply in their minds ; for which they 
 may well have been ready to lay down their lives. 
 Exciting reports opened the day; reflection and consul- 
 tation succeeded ; accumulating and more unquestion- 
 able testimony came in the evening ; the evidence of 
 sense followed, calm instruction and a retrospect upon 
 the life and the predictions of Christ, and upon the law 
 and the prophets, closed the day ; and everything was 
 shining in the substantial light of a better world, free 
 from the refractions of the fallen reason and the cor- 
 rupt heart of the natural man. If ever sober and un- 
 questionable experience substantiated a fact, it is the 
 fact before us. But of all this, more hereafter. 
 
 Christ prepares to take his leave for this time. One 
 thing remained to be done. The moral distance be- 
 tween him and them seems so immense now, that 
 they doubt whether they may hope to sustain to their 
 exalted master the intimate relation of apostles any 
 longer. Yes, they may, they shall. "Peace be unto 
 you," says Jesus to them again, before parting, " as 
 my Father hath sent me, even so send I you." Then 
 breathing upon them, he saith : "Receive the Holy 
 Spirit, the unfailing guide. Whatsoever ye do, 
 guided by him, is ratified in heaven. Repentance and 
 remission of sin must be preached among all nations, 
 beginning at Jerusalem. And ye are and shall be my 
 witnesses of these things." 
 
 Thus ended the great day which brought life andim- 
 mortality to light. 
 
283 MEDITATIONS, 
 
 Our subject to-day is rich in practical matter, and 
 numerous profitable remarks might now close this dis- 
 course. But our time is expired, and the application 
 of this great subject, I have reserved for some future 
 opportunity. But as 1 have been obliged to say some 
 things, seemingly or really, to the discredit of the apos- 
 tles, let me now do them justice in closing, by advert- 
 ing to the fullness and beauty with which, at the close 
 of this day, their christian characters came out of the 
 trying furnace of fire. They exhibit an evidence of 
 piety as perfectly conclusive as it could have been. 
 We leave them in their poor, narrow chamber, a little, 
 feeble flock, but full of joy and gladness. What has 
 happened to them ^ what change has taken place in 
 their situation } Have they been made rich, great, 
 famous, formidable to their enemies .'* Nothing of all 
 this. Has their Lord brought them the promise, that 
 henceforth they shall live in sweet retirement, and 
 ease, and safety ? and that their late troubles were the 
 last ones they should ever see ? Nothing like it. Now 
 indeed, their labors and sufferings, their persecutions 
 and wrongs, the contempt and curse of the world, were 
 to commence. Their late distress was "but the be- 
 ginning of sorrows." What, then, are they so glad 
 about ? Christ has appeared unto them. Here is the 
 all-sufficient source of their joy, in spite of a world of 
 enemies, and a life of toil and sufferings. When they 
 ^wept, they wept for him ; and when they rejoiced, they 
 rejoiced in him. When he came, he brought them no 
 earthly good ; but he brought them his " peace," and 
 this was enough. 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 289 
 
 O, that we, too, might shed no tears of longing, but 
 those for him ; nor rejoice, save when he draws near ! 
 Thus our sorrows and our joys would be equally proofs 
 of our piety and sources of profit and comfort to our 
 souls. Wo to the miserable man that weeps for dust, 
 and to the still more wretched epicurean that chews and 
 swallows with low delight the rotten husks of his fel- 
 lows, the greedy swine ! O, that God, with whom is 
 the residue of the spirit, might visit us, that whether 
 we sorrow or rejoice, whether we live or die, we may 
 have Jesus near, saying, " Peace be unto you ! '* 
 Amen ! 
 
 25* 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 THOMAS'S CONVERSION. 
 
 JOHN XX, 24— 2». 
 
 But Thomas, ono of the twelve, called Didymus, waa not with them when 
 Jesus came. The other disciples, therefore, said unto him, Wo have seen the 
 Lord. But he said unto them, Except I shall see in his hands the print of tha 
 nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into bia 
 side, I will not believe. And aAer eight days, again his disciples were witbio, 
 and Thomas with them. Then came Jesus, the doors being shut, and stood in the 
 midst, and said. Peace be unto you. Then saith he to Thomas, Reach hither thr 
 linger, and behold my hands ; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my 
 side : and be not faithless, but believing. And Thomas answered and said unto 
 him. My Lord and my God. Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because thou bast 
 seen me, thou hast believed : blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have 
 believed. 
 
 Now there was but one profound conviction, pre- 
 vailing among the disciples of Christ, that he was alive 
 again, soul and body ; that the plan of his kingdom 
 was by no means given up ; that the mode of his exist- 
 ence was a high, incomprehensible one, fully answer- 
 
292 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 ing to the spirituality and the universality of his king- 
 dom ; and that all the events which had perplexed 
 them so much since his death and burial, were but 
 so many links in the chain of a divine plan, — a plan 
 predicted through the course of more than four 
 thousand years — and leading, with unfailing certainty, 
 to the salvation of a perishing world and the consum- 
 mation of all things. This conviction, as we have seen 
 in our last meditation, was reared upon the deep foun- 
 dation of sensitive, intellectual, and moral evidence, 
 on the testimony of Scripture and on the enlightening 
 influences of the Holy Spirit; and the testimony borne 
 upon the strength of this conviction must needs possess 
 all that the most scrupulous judge could demand in 
 point of demonstration, and much more. 
 
 Thomas alone was excepted from the happy number 
 of those who rejoiced in a risen Saviour. "Clouds 
 and darkness " remained still brooding over his mind, 
 and while the rest enjoyed the unwavering conviction 
 of delightful and interesting present realities, and the 
 sure expectation of things to come, which were alto- 
 gether too vast and too precious fully to be realized, 
 his mind was tossed through the space of a whole 
 week more with the tempest of a thousand obstinate 
 and distressing doubts. This was the deserved natu- 
 ral consequence of his own faulty conduct, but over- 
 ruled by an allwise Providence, for purposes of the 
 highest interest and importance, as, I trust, the sequel 
 of this meditation will show. 
 
 There ^re many moral elements contained in the 
 general subject oi our text, upon each of which we 
 
Thomas's conversion. 293 
 
 might dwell with profit, to the exclusion of all the rest. 
 But if ^ou remember the plan which I laid down, in 
 reference to the history of the resurrection, you will 
 easily perceive that I must dismiss all abstract matter, 
 and direct your whole attention to the various features 
 of the history itself. I am somewhat embarrassed how 
 to divide my subject, — if a division be required — so 
 as to pursue my main purpose with consistency and 
 advantage. Christ must again be the centre of our 
 meditation ; this is plain. And, still, the apostle, 
 whose name stands prominent in our text, must needs 
 engage our close attention, if we are to appreciate the 
 conduct of our Lord ; and the other apostles, also, 
 evidently claim their share of consideration, without 
 which the whole can and will yield us no mature fruit, 
 no clear perception, no deep impression. 
 
 Let us endeavor to embody the whole of what is es- 
 sential to our purpose under the following two heads, 
 namely : 
 
 I. The mind and conduct of Thomas ; and 
 
 n. The purpose and conduct of our Lord. 
 
 I. Thomas was one of that class of men, whose 
 minds are made up slowly, though firmly ; who are 
 more liable to fall into scepticism than into supersti- 
 tion ; who are exposed to the delusions of self-confi- 
 dence, but who are sober and free from extremes, and 
 persevering with peculiar equanimity where their con- 
 viction is properly matured. I know that diametrically 
 opposite views have been, and are taken of his char- 
 acter ; whether with propriety, my hearers shall judge 
 
M 
 
 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 when I shall have expressed my own conviction on the 
 subject. Unlike Peter, whose natural tendency to ex- 
 tremes is acknowledged on all hands, he joined the 
 small band of disciples in a manner, and with an exte- 
 rior which deprived him of every kind and degree of 
 prominence or distinction. For the space of near 
 three years, nothing but his bare name is thought wor- 
 thy of mention. Yet, that he was a proper subject for 
 admission to the number of apostles, Christ himself is 
 our warrant ; and that his religious conviction was ri- 
 pening, and his christian and apostolic character devel- 
 oping itself during that whole period, is clear even from 
 what little we are told of him in the gospels, and is 
 confirmed by his apostolic career, transmitted to us 
 through the medium of history. 
 
 In company with the other apostles, Thomas has 
 often been charged with expecting a temporal reign of 
 the Messiah ; i. e., a common earthly reign, only more 
 powerful, splendid, and luxurious, more successful in 
 battle, more destructive to its enemies, than the reigns 
 of other monarchs. This charge, which many good 
 men retail from the pen of learned infidelity, has no 
 foundation in holy writ ; it is on this very point that 
 the apostles must have differed, either positively or 
 negatively, from the epicurean sadducees, the egotistic 
 pharisees, and the thoughtless multitude ; and it is on 
 this very principle — if any principle was taken into 
 the account — that Christ must have selected them in 
 preference to a thousand other Jews more learned, 
 more skilled in thought and reflection, more eloquent, 
 more influential, and in every respect more fit for the 
 
Thomas's conversion. 295 
 
 execution of his great plan. God despises no natural 
 talents, no acquired abilities; but at the heart he looks 
 first, and nothing will make up for the settled per- 
 verseness of that. 
 
 Thomas's expectation of the Messiah's reign was a 
 kind of heaven on earth ; a notion which you may ea- 
 sily infer by a literal construction of some familiar and 
 beautiful passages in the prophets, the spirituality of 
 which neither Thomas nor the other apostles were pre- 
 pared to appreciate. The Messiah will come, supreme 
 in wisdom, holiness, love, and power ; the wayward 
 heart of Israel will be changed, their sins purged ; 
 soon the heathen nations will submit, and idolatry 
 will be no more ; in their tender and grateful regard 
 for the suffering people of God, the heathen will forth- 
 with liberate and honor them and return them to the 
 land of their fathers, where they will dwell in perfect 
 prosperity, harmony, and holy peace, with their king, 
 (on whose nature and character, human or divine, their 
 notions were ever divided, floating and indistinct) with 
 their king enthroned at Jerusalem, and wrapt in a sar 
 cred and mysterious cloud. This idea is very much 
 like the sentiments and expectations of some good peo- 
 ple of the present day, particularly in England. By 
 the same mistake they come to the same result, and 
 their tracts and sermons, and other works have in this 
 relation a high degree of interest to the church histori- 
 an and the theologian. Only this important differ- 
 ence subsists between the two parties, that, at the 
 time of the apostles such views were not only excusa- 
 ble, but almost unavoidable, — which is a great deal 
 more than I should undertake to plead for those who 
 
296 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 hold similar views at the present day. There was too 
 little yet fulfilled, to tell us what degree of spirituality 
 the kingdom of heaven would assume, and how far we 
 should carry the solution of earthly figures of speech 
 into heavenly realities, when reading and explaining 
 the lively oracles of God. 
 
 But to prepare you to appreciate fully the mind of 
 Thomas, I must remind you of another, and indeed, 
 the chief mistake, which he shared with all the other 
 followers of Christ — a mistake to which I have already 
 alluded on former occasions. I refer to the one under 
 which they labored as to the manner in which the 
 kingdom of God was to come, viz. Gethsemane, Cal- 
 vary, the cross, the silent grave, the short triumph of 
 the wicked, the path of faith, self-denial, the mortifica- 
 tion of every earthborn desire. About the close of the 
 third year, Thomas seems to have entertained this con- 
 viction : Yes, he is the Messiah ; if he is not the one, no 
 one will ever come. This throws light upon a passage 
 not easily understood otherwise. About that time, 
 Lazarus became dangerously ill. His sisters send to 
 Christ to request his speedy visit and help. Christ 
 delays in order to prepare the way for that trial of 
 faith, and for that exhibition of his sovereign power 
 which distinguished the dwelling and the sepulchre of 
 his pious friend at Bethany, and of which Spinoza him- 
 self confessed, if he could believe it, it would overturn 
 the whole fabric of his truly admirable system of spec- 
 ulation. At last, Christ prepares to go to Bethany, 
 This undertaking was in the highest degree perilous. 
 "Master, the Jews of late sought to stone thee ; and 
 goest thou thither again .'' " So his disciples. To 
 
297 
 
 which our Lord replies in words, not of a double sense, 
 for to that our critics object, but in words of a thou- 
 sand-fold sense ; in words, not as they would have 
 them, like to a superficies in mathematics which has 
 length and breadth but no depth, but profound as the 
 great deep. Jesus answered : " Are there not twelve 
 hours in a day ? If any man walk in the day, he 
 stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of this world. 
 But if a man walk in the night, he stumbleth, because 
 there is no light in him." These things he said, and 
 after that he saith unto them : *' Our friend Lazarus 
 sleepeth ; but I go that I may awake him out of 
 sleep." Then said the disciples : "Lord, if he sleep, 
 he shall do well." '* Then said Jesus unto them 
 plainly, Lazarus is dead. And I am glad for your 
 sakes that I was not there, to the intent that ye may 
 believe : nevertheless, let us go unto him." Do you 
 understand all this .•' But we return to Thomas. 
 
 He was satisfied on the one hand, this is the Mes- 
 siah ; and on the other, if he goes up to Judea, he is 
 a dead man ; and it was the utterance of his deep feel- 
 ings when he turned to his fellow disciples, and said, 
 "Let us also go, and die ivitli him;^^ i. e. if he goes 
 up, he is undone; but if he is no more, the hope of 
 Israel is gone, every tie of higher interest which binds 
 us to this world is cut, and we may as well die with 
 him. Thus this passage becomes clear, and serves to 
 cast a deeply interesting light upon the religious state 
 of Thomas's mind at that time. Christ, however, sur- 
 vived, and the hopes of our apostle were, of course, 
 heightened and confirmed, and on the solemn entrance 
 
 of Christ into Jerusalem, the hosannah of Thomas was, 
 26 
 
298 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 if not the loudest, at least as deeply felt as any other. 
 And now, put yourselves into his frame of mind, — and 
 then go through the scenes of Gethseinane and Calva- 
 ry, and be told of the burial of Christ, — and you will 
 be able in some degree to realize the utter and dread- 
 ful disappointment which this man experienced. Away 
 he fled from all society: everything, even pious sym- 
 pathy, conversation, and social prayer, had lost their 
 charms, and a gloomy solitude seemed the most eligi- 
 ble, and, to his feelings, the most consonant place in 
 the world. Ministering spirits, and Christ himself ap- 
 pears to the woman at the sepulchre, but this has no 
 influence with him. Obstinately he withdraws from the 
 rest of the disciples, and returns not till late, till all the 
 glories of the resurrection day were over. Then he 
 returns home. He sees all countenances beaming 
 with joy. A painful contrast to the state of his own 
 mind. The Lord is risen, and has appeared to the 
 sisters, unto Peter, to Cleophas and his companion, 
 and to us all in this very room this evening! So they. 
 Indeed, he replies, smiling sadly at their credulity, 
 have you seen him? Yes, and we have seen the print 
 of the nails in his hands and his feet, and the wound 
 in his side. It was him we saw. Ah, you have seen 
 him, and merely seen, and you may have seen a phan- 
 tom. You ought to have touched him, and examined 
 the matter well. How could we dare do that? but we 
 all saw him, and clearly. It was him! Whereupon, 
 fearless of everything, save a new delusion, Thomas 
 makes the daring reply: " Except 1 too shall see in 
 his hands the prints of the nails; and not that only, 
 but put my very finger into the print of the nails, and 
 thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe." 
 
Thomas's conversion. 299 
 
 Poor Thomas! If Christ was morally and physically 
 capable of deceiving one sense, why could he not as 
 well deceive all five senses. That the veracity of 
 Christ was to betaken into the account of the evidence, 
 did not occur to Thomas, nor did he feel the impropri- 
 ety of such a shocking course of mistrust as he 
 had proposed. Thus the whole week passed, and 
 Thomas was like the troubled sea which cannot rest; 
 doubts and daring rejection of crowding evidence, and 
 an uneasy mind and conscience were the self-made 
 rack upon which he agonized. How important, my 
 friends, that we should all sit at the feet of Christ, and 
 relinquishing every preconceived opinion, learn of him 
 as little children. There we ought to sit, not once, 
 but always. The blind-born man in the Gospel could 
 believe, and the Canaanitish woman, and Zaccheus, 
 and the Centurion, and the thief on the cross, and a 
 thousand others, and Thomas, the ajjostle, totters on 
 the brink of scepticism and ruin. Many a poor, sim- 
 ple old woman, many a child can believe, and feels the 
 influence of heaven, and Spinoza dies without repent- 
 ance, the sensible Jacobi expires in distressing doubts, 
 Kant in gloom and darkness, and Voltaire cursing and 
 in a rage. O, man of yesterday, proud fool that you 
 are! tell me now, what is there which you really do 
 know} Put now your finger upon the thing, and tell 
 me, if you can. This I do know: then I will also con- 
 fess to you that you are prepared to walk by sight, and 
 not by faith; and that God ought to bring and to plead 
 arguments and evidence throughout, to obtain your as- 
 sent and credence. 
 
 Infinite compassion saved Thomas from ruin. Christ 
 
300 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 knew all. When, hy the sufferings of a distressful 
 week, Thomas's mind was humbled down, his heart 
 softened, and his fretfulness and his presumption re- 
 moved, the first day of the week again in the evening, 
 the door being shut, and the apostles and Thomas all 
 being assembled, Christ appears in the midst of them. 
 His first word again is, " Peace be unto you." Then 
 looking around in the assembly, his eye lights upon 
 Thomas, who is ready to sink into the ground for 
 shame. He addresses Thomas, not in the dread ac- 
 cents of old, uttering condemnation, Adam, where art 
 thou? — but with the thrilling intonation of injured 
 love; and the sentiment was more overwhelming to 
 Thomas's irritated, but sensible and tender heart, than 
 all the stores of vengeance and destruction would have 
 been. '* Reach hither thy finger, and behold my 
 hands, and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my 
 side, and be not faithless, but believing." Who can 
 sufficiently realize the sternness of the reproof, which 
 the first part of this address contains, and the tender- 
 ness and affection of the latter clause. It was enough 
 to melt adamant. It melted Thomas in an instant. 
 Did he rise up and touch Christ, and examine his 
 hands and side like a surgeon, who is to make an offi- 
 cial report? Shocking, preposterous idea! Had he 
 done so, methinks he would have sunk into the pit 
 alive, like Korah, Dathan, and Abiram. No! He was a 
 Christian, and he could and did feel all the overcoming 
 beauty of our Lord's conduct. Conviction fastened up- 
 on his mind with the resistless power of eternal reality; 
 shame and confusion efface at his past conduct humbled 
 
Thomas's conversion. 301 
 
 him into the dust, and his overflowing heart, his broken 
 voice could just summon up strength enough for the 
 short but comprehensive confession of his faith, ex- 
 pressed in our text. *' And he answered and said unto 
 him, (i. e. to Christ) my Lord, and my God!" If the 
 humble, plain exterior of his Lord had left any doubts 
 in his mind, whether the passages of the Old Testament, 
 and the doctrine of some Rabinnic schools, relative to 
 the divinity of the Messiah, were true or not, those 
 doubts were now removed at once and forever; 
 and when, at the ascension of Christ, the apostles 
 bowed down and worshipped him, Thomas was pre- 
 pared to join with all his heart. 
 
 n. Those of my hearers who attended our last 
 meditation, and remember the drift of my remarks then 
 made, need but a word in order to recollect what was 
 the main purpose of Christ in all his appearances to 
 his disciples after his resurrection. It was this, viz : 
 to prepare them for their great work by giving them a 
 sensitive, rational and moral conviction, not only of 
 the real resurrection of his body from the dead, but 
 also of the exalted nature of his existence and its per- 
 fect adaption to the nature and extent of his kingdom. 
 We have seen in several successive discourses how 
 our Lord treated Mary Magdalene and the other wo- 
 men, the two disciples walking to Emmaus and the 
 eleven assembled together, and how admirably he 
 adapted his conduct to the different states of their re- 
 spective minds, always aiming, with unfailing certainty 
 and with triumphant success, at the great purpose which 
 runs through the whole of his deep-cast plan. 
 26* 
 
302 MEDITATIONS. * 
 
 Thomas is another and a bright instance of this 
 kind. What his state of mind was, we have seen. 
 To appear unto him immediately on the resurrection 
 day, would clearly have done painful violence to his 
 feelings. It would either have goaded him on to an 
 absolutely unpardonable degree of resistance, or it 
 would have wrested from him an assent without in the 
 least convincing his mind. Why,? Because he was 
 in no state o fmind to receive conviction. Moreover, he 
 had abundantly forfeited the privilege of seeing our 
 Lord so soon, and a protracted season of sore distress 
 of mind and heart, was equally deserved and whole- 
 some in his case. What a revolution took place in 
 that man's mind during the whole course of the week, 
 I do not presume to determine. What a multitude of 
 causes conspired to make him wretched, and to pluck 
 the weapons of his resistance from his guilty hands! 
 After all, the body of Christ was nowhere to be found; 
 the false report of thehigh-priests, that it was stolen by 
 the disciples, was to him only a proof that they, with all 
 their soldiery and seals knew not what to make of the 
 event, and attempted to extricate themselves by lying; 
 many a passage of Scripture, doubtless, troubled his 
 mind; his seasons of devotion were seasons of agony 
 and darkness; in the social circle and in private in- 
 tercourse with the brethren, the whole mass of exist- 
 ing evidence, all the power of conclusive argument, 
 and of holy eloquence were continually rolled upon 
 his mind; the soft, melting beam of Christian affection 
 was continually striving to dissolve the ice which 
 chilled his heart; and the voice of prayer and inter- 
 cession was continually poured forth in his hearing, 
 
THOMASES CONVERSION. SO^ 
 
 ihat he might be led to believe and be saved* And oh! 
 when he looked at the happy countenances which sur- 
 rounded him; when he listened to the sweet converse 
 of them all, and noticed their delightful assurance, -^— 
 oh! what torture to his mind! Yes, neither Peter's 
 blazing zeal and eloquence, nor John's tender and win- 
 ning persuasion, nor James's stern sobriety, nor Mary's 
 tears, nor the combined efforts of the whole church 
 then existing on earth, could break him down or turn 
 him from the error of his ways. Such is the perverse- 
 ness of the human heart! No, they could not turn 
 him from his scepticism; but they could prepare the 
 way, gather the stones from his path, and clear away 
 the hindrances, till he came, against whose sovereign 
 Voice no sinner has ever stood up, nor ever will stand. 
 This they did; and whien they had done what they could 
 do, then he came and did what they could not. One 
 glance of his eye, one word from his lips, and the way- 
 v/ard heart was turned and humbled, and the immortal 
 Soul saved; and this whole story is nothing but a mirror, 
 reflecting, at the same time, the glory of Christ and 
 the duty of the church and the perverseness and peril 
 of the sinner. 
 
 How kind and how wise the conduct of Christ was, 
 in reference to Thomas, is now, 1 hope, clear to lis 
 all. But let us see its bearings upon the mind of 
 the other disciples, and the whole band of believ- 
 vers. During this whole week they could not depart 
 from Jerusalem, for it was the week of the Pass- 
 over; this week was chiefly devoted to religious 
 exercises in the temple, and at home. That the 
 disciples met once or more a day, privately, we must 
 
304 MEDITATIOxVS. 
 
 necessarily suppose. But it would have been neither 
 advisable, nor safe for the disciples, if Christ had ap- 
 peared often while they were at Jerusalem, and before 
 the general meeting in Galilee. Moreover, as I have 
 already once observed, it was in the plan of Christ to 
 give them time for reflection, for reading the Scrip- 
 tures, for the exercise of thought, the duty of devotion, 
 and the development of faith, etc.; and what season 
 was more admirably calculated for such purposes than 
 this week of religious interest, and of rest from secu- 
 lar cares and employments? Thomas's case added to 
 the propriety of our Lord's withdrawing for a season; 
 but while his case contributed to deprive them of the 
 privilege of seeing their Master oftener, it richly com- 
 pensated them by its beneficial bearings upon the 
 farther development of their views and feelings this 
 week. A week ago this evening, a new world had 
 been disclosed to them. They had learned the truth as 
 it is in Jesus. New religious experience, and new 
 Scripture views had rushed into their minds; but as 
 yet, they were not to go abroad to make known the 
 great mystery of which their hearts were now so full. 
 Our Lord, therefore, chose to give them a work to do 
 in their own family, and an important one too. A 
 doubting, despairing brother was in the midst of them; 
 an unbelieving apostle! This was indeed not calcu- 
 lated to sweeten their meetings; but it could not fail 
 to give them a deep and solemn interest. How the 
 presence of this sceptical, suffering brother must have 
 quickened their recollection of the instructions of 
 Christ, which they had recently received, and en- 
 livened all their knowledge of divine things! How 
 
Thomas's conversion. 305 
 
 must it have exercised, and put to the utmost stretch 
 of effort, their reasoning powers, when he boldly, and 
 in sweeping terms, questioned the reality of their 
 united and repeated experience! How must the 
 bowels of their compassion have yearned over the 
 misery and danger of one, whom they could not but re- 
 gard with the tenderest emotions, who had been their 
 faithful companion in joy and wo, and who had once 
 and again professed his readiness to die with Christ, 
 and that sincerely, and from his heart! How must 
 their prayers for him have been excited and quickened, 
 their faith exercised, and every faculty of their minds 
 and hearts taxed, to enlighten and to save him! And 
 when all their united efforts proved vain, and when at 
 last the happy evening hour came, and Christ ap- 
 peared, and melted him down, and turned and saved 
 him with one glance, one word; — what indelible im- 
 pressions must they have received, of the vanity of all 
 human strength, and of the transcending, and irresist- 
 ible power of the King of kings! And when they re- 
 membered, too, who made them to differ, what hum- 
 ble dependence upon him who ean give and withhold, 
 with a sovereign right, whatsoever he will; what an 
 humble dependence upon him must have mingled with 
 their new assurance, and their never-before-tasted 
 joys! The experienced Christian will discern the 
 serious advantages and privileges of the little flock as 
 enhanced by the conduct of our Lord in this case; and 
 he will recognize that eye which seeth the end from 
 the beginning, and that unfaltering hand which holds 
 the reigns of winds and waves, and all the changes 
 of this fluctuating world. 
 
306 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 But we must hasten to the closing part. " My Lord 
 and my God!" — this was the substance of the confes- 
 sion of Thomas's faith; to call it a mere exclamation 
 occasioned by surprise, and not an address to Christ, 
 is bidding defiance to the plainest laws of language. 
 To which Christ replies, "Thomas, because thou hast 
 seen, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have 
 not seen, and yet have believed." You observe here 
 again, how our Lord remains the same wherever he 
 speaks and acts. Everywhere he addresses the whole 
 mariy and with the evidence of sense, where that is 
 possible, immediately combines the exercise of the 
 understanding and of the sensibilities of the heart. 
 Thomas was no sooner convinced by the sight of his 
 eyes, when a moral and religious lesson is addressed 
 to him, to occupy and to exercise the mind and heart. 
 But it is addressed to us also, and it is too important, 
 and too beautiful, not to claim our undivided atten- 
 tion at least for some few minutes. 
 
 " Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have 
 believed." That we should admit things indiscrimi- 
 nately, and without evidence, could not be the desire 
 of Him who labored so much to give all the evidence 
 imaginable to his friends, both of his divine mission 
 and of his victory over death and the grave. To appre- 
 hend the true meaning and the whole moral beauty of 
 the sentiment in question, let us look for a moment 
 upon one of the tenderest and noblest ties which bind 
 moral and rational beings together — here below imper- 
 fectly, but perfectly in heaven: I mean confidence in 
 the character and the feelings of our neighbor. From 
 the bar of civil justice this principle is indeed exclu- 
 
307 
 
 ded by necessity, and nothing short of evidence and 
 argument can be admitted. From the market-place, 
 and from the haunts of wickedness, selfishness and 
 vice drive it effectually, and to exercise it there would 
 be folly. But in the better relations of life every- 
 body feels a share of it to be due to him from his 
 neighbor, and to his neighbor from him; and every- 
 body is conscious that without it, human society would 
 be degraded; there would be no intercourse but for 
 purposes of strife or traffic, and life would be a bur- 
 den. What do you think would be the condition of a 
 state when ruler and ruled, citizen and citizen had 
 lost all confidence in each other, and where every 
 public transaction, political and social, was soured by 
 universal mistrust and suspicion; and where, conse- 
 quently, every assertion, of greater or smaller conse- 
 quence, was to be accompanied by evidence and argu- 
 ment, or by an oath, in order to be at all credited. 
 Would it not be a miserable state of things .'' Carry 
 it farther, and suppose that the same unhappy feeling 
 had crept into families, and among friends, and should 
 call forth from every house and hearth the voice of 
 alarm, as often as the nearest relation even approaches 
 to pay his pretended friendly evening visit to its in- 
 mates ? Then proceed farther still, and divide the 
 members of each family, father and child, husband 
 and wife, brother and sister, and let none of them put 
 any confidence in the character, the conscience, the 
 sincerity and benevolence of any of the rest, and let 
 evidence and arguments and oaths be required daily 
 and hourly, and say whether hell itself could be a less 
 eligible, a more frightful, abode? It could not, you 
 
308 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 say. Indeed not. But should you not think that this 
 was really the case in a family or state, if you should 
 observe that no one of its members would believe the 
 rest without continually seeing, hearing and handling 
 for himself ? Time forbids me to treat upon this sub- 
 ject at large; but thus much is clear unto you all, I 
 suppose that conjidence is one of the elements of 
 social intercourse, and that it is an ennobling one, 
 which we should be anxious to retain, exercise, and 
 deserve as much as possible. How much of evidence 
 and argument should be required, and how much con- 
 fidence reposed in every given instance, — who would 
 pretend to decide in the abstract? Mathematics do 
 not apply to moral subjects. Moral feeling must de- 
 cide here, and the rectitude of him who seeks trust, 
 and the generous fairness of him who grants it, equally 
 affect the exercise of the moral principle in question. 
 A thief, a liar, believes nobody, and is believed by 
 nobody; a man who never told a lie, finds credence 
 everywhere, and trusts even to imprudence some- 
 times. But beautiful beyond expression is the lovely 
 picture of a Jonathan and a David, whose mutual, 
 noble, generous and pious friendship could reconcile 
 the most scrupulous prudence with the exercise of un- 
 bounded confidence and trust. 
 
 Let us apply these brief remarks to the case in 
 hand. Had not Jesus foretold his resurrection? and 
 had not unsuspicious and pious witnesses seen him? and 
 why mistrust the one, and charge the others with folly 
 and superstition, or with deceit? Thomas had at the 
 same time trampled, though unconsciously, perhaps, 
 upon the rights of humanity and of pious fellowship, 
 
THOMAS*S CONVERSION. ' 309 
 
 and upon the claims of a faithful master, and the duty 
 of a disciple, by not believing till he himself saw. It 
 was his duty and privilege to believe without sight, 
 under circumstances like his, which rendered confi- 
 dence so much an exercise of sobriety and duty, and 
 clothed it with such peculiar moral charms. 
 
 '* Blessed are they, &c." Oh, indeed, there is an 
 inexpressible sweetness in that surrender of love to 
 him, that entire confidence in the friend of sinners, 
 which leads us not only to require no evidence, no 
 feelings, no peculiar extraordinary manifestations on 
 his part, but which would prefer even to believe with- 
 out sight, to believe upon a single, poor, short word 
 from his blessed lips. No; I do not want to see the 
 heavens open like Stephen, unless he choose to open 
 them. No ; I do not ask to see the New Jerusalem, 
 like John, unless he think this best. Gethsemane 
 seen by faith is to me the gate of heaven, and Calva- 
 ry sparkles and shines to me, the sinner, with brighter 
 rubies than the city not made with hands: it shines 
 with the rubies of his dying love. I have not seen 
 them with these eyes, but he who died for me sent me 
 word concerning them, and 1 gratefully believe. He 
 who died for me, — can he deceive me .? can he seek 
 my harm, my ruin? If he can, then let me be ruined! 
 then 1 no more wish to live ; then there is for 
 me no heaven in the wide universe, and my last 
 tear of hopeless sorrow is my last expiring comfort. 
 But, no, no ; it is impossible that he should deceive; 
 no, the very thought is painful and criminal. Sweet 
 is the exercise of unbounded confidence in him ; 
 and his pale, dying countenance, the print of the 
 27 
 
$10 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 nails in his hands, and the wound in his side, shall be 
 to my humble faith the all-sufficient and everlasting 
 proofs of his sincere, tender and unfailing love to me, 
 the sinner. 
 
 All this and much more was contained in the moral 
 sentiment which our Lord addressed to the humble 
 and believing Thomas, and what a field of contempla- 
 tion, and what a new world for the exercise of the 
 noblest affections towards the noblest object, was 
 opened to him at once, 1 need not, and I cannot 
 tell you. But it is addressed to us too; and oh that 
 no unbeliever was found in this room! To be an unbe- 
 liever now is dreadful. The sum of evidence which 
 lies before us at this late period, is as nearly equal 
 to sight as it well can be. And if he is blessed who 
 hath not seen, and yet hath believed, then surely he must 
 be cursed who hath seen, and yet hath not believed. 
 
 Permit me one or two remarks more and I have 
 done. 
 
 In my last sermon it gave me peculiar pleasure, 
 after having been obliged to say mucli to the discredit 
 of the ten apostles, to show at the close with how 
 bright an evidence of sincere piety they came off, 
 through divine grace, from a contest as unexpected, 
 as fierce and trying as theirs had been. The same 
 privilege I am now permitted to enjoy with reference 
 to Thomas. 
 
 " My Lord, and my God!" was the confession of his 
 faith in reference to his Lord and Messiah, and Christ 
 oave him the testimony^ that he believed. Whether 
 the necessity of a divine Saviour, and its inseparable 
 doctrine of the divinity of Christ was quite plain to the 
 
Thomas's conversion. 311 
 
 other disciples at that time, may, perhaps, be doubted; 
 to Thomas it was plain, if his words indicate the state 
 of his mind. That view represented in several 
 weighty passages of the Old Testament, and existing, 
 as it then did, in some Jewish schools, was made plain 
 to him by the exigency of his individual case; and the 
 frame of his own mind, and a new, broad and ever- 
 lasting foundation was laid by the Holy Spirit upon 
 which he was to rest his hope of heaven. Now he 
 needed a divine Saviour; and, therefore, he sought 
 and found him. Henceforth he was a faithful ad- 
 herent to the truth as it is in Jesus, and a persevering 
 and successful preacher of it. After the dispersion of 
 the apostles he preached the Gospel to the Medes, 
 Persians, Hyrcanians, Bactrians, Ethiopians, and in 
 India, and probably in that country sacrificed his life 
 for the truth of what he preached. "Let us, also, go 
 and die with him," he had said, and so he did; and 
 we shall dou';tless find him among those who live and 
 reign with Christ forever and ever. 
 
 The history of the conversion of an apostle of Christ 
 and a missionary of the cross, has a peculiarly deep 
 and solemn interest to us, beloved brethren, whom 
 God called, and, counting us faithful, hath put us into 
 the ministry that we should serve him in far distant 
 lands, in the gospel of his Son. Oh, what a humbling 
 vet cheerino; likeness there is between Thomas and 
 us! There was a time with us, too, when our hearts 
 were filled with sorrow and sinful unbelief and doubts, 
 and when all nature seemed to put on mourning, to 
 bemoan our undone, forlorn condition. We had no 
 friend on earth who could help us; and, alas! we 
 
512 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 thought we had none in heaven. Many around us 
 followed still the world, but we could, and would no 
 more; many rejoiced in the love of Christ, but we 
 durst not yet; we were the outcasts of heaven and 
 earth. Till the moment came, the moment never to 
 be forgotten in heaven, when Christ manifested him- 
 self to us, as he does not unto the world, in all the 
 beauty of his sufferings, in all the overcoming love- 
 liness of the " man of sorrows." Perhaps he found 
 us in the closet, perhaps in the mingled assembly of 
 sinners and saints, and no one knew our perishing 
 case, or cared for us. But he knew it; he cared for 
 us. " Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands; 
 and reach hither thy hand and thrust it into my side, 
 and be not faithless, but believing." And, "My 
 Lord, and my God!" was all that our souls could re- 
 ply. Forthwith the holy resolution was m^de in his 
 strength, that, so far as we are able, his name and his 
 praise, the story of his dying love and his saving 
 power, should be known to the end of the earth. 
 And now, after much of delay and toil and peril, we 
 are in the field, and our labors are commenced. We 
 have followed Thomas in his unbelief, let us follow 
 him in his zeal, his perseverance and his faithfulness 
 even unto death. But our work is a work of faith, 
 and our hope rests not upon the goodness of men, nor 
 upon our wisdom, skill or power, but upon his prom- 
 ise and his faithfulness, which never fail. There let 
 it rest till we shall see him as he is. The world may 
 laugh at us as fools; those whom we seek to save 
 may curse us as heretics; every external encouraging 
 appearance may perish and pass away like smoke; 
 
Thomas's conversion. 313 
 
 yea, the church of Christ may lose all her faith and 
 engagedness iu the great work, and draw back her 
 hand; the whole tide of external obstacles and diffi- 
 culties may set against us; but the promises and 
 presence of Christ may not fail us while we cleave to 
 him. Mountains may be removed, and the mother 
 may forget her sucking child: but he may not forget 
 us, and liis word will stand forever; and there let our 
 confidence rest till we shall see him as he is. And 
 oh, it will be sweet and blessed to us to trust him thus. 
 *' Blessed are they which have not seen, and yet have 
 believed!" what a depth of meaning lies in these few 
 words! what spiritual enjoyment in the exercise ot 
 this elevated, heavenly sentiment! To lean upon Jesus 
 *' even as a weaned child," and to glorify and honor 
 him by that trust whose exercise is denied to the 
 happy spirits in heaven — for there, all is sight, and 
 faith is no more ; how blessed indeed! With what a 
 holy intensity of desire should we seek and crave this 
 precious pearl! 
 
 I have done. I leave the remainder to your own 
 meditation in the closet, where, I pray the Lord who 
 appeared unto Thomas, may appear unto us to-day 
 and speak peace to our souls. 
 
 Finally, let me plead with you, who stand as yet 
 afar off doubting and halting between Christ and the 
 world ; let me plead with you in Christ's stead, to be 
 reconciled to God through him. Yet the sands run, 
 the sun is not yet gone down, the day of mercy lasts 
 still, and the offers of salvation are urged upon you. 
 Flee from the wrath to come, perishing sinner, ere 
 the King of kings draw nigh in his glory, to show you^ 
 23* 
 
314 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 not the signs of his dying love, but the frown of holy 
 indignation, and deal out just damnation and eternal 
 ruin upon your guilty heads. Blessed are all they 
 who put their trust in thee, and in a dying hour 
 can yield up their happy spirits to thy hands with 
 the sincere exclamation, "My Lord, and my God!" 
 Amen. 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 THE EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 JOHN XXr, 1-23. 
 
 After these things Jef«u.s sliowed himself again to the disciples at the sea of Ti- 
 berias ; and «n this wise shewi-d he himself. Tliere were together Simon Peter, 
 Bnd I'homas called Didymtis and Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, and the soiis of 
 Zebedeo, and two other of his disciples. Simon Peter saith unto them, I go a 
 fishing. 'I'hey say unto him, We also go with thee. They went forth, and en- 
 tered into a ship immediately ; and that night they caught nothing. But when 
 the morning was now come, Jesus stood on the shore ; but thi- disciples knew not 
 that it was Jesus. Then Jesus saith unto them, Children, have ye any meat,' 
 They answered him. No. And ho said unto them, Cast the net on the right sido 
 of the ship, and ye shall find. Thf^y cast therefore, and now they were tu)t ablo 
 to draw it for the multitude of fishes. Therefore that disciple whom Jesus loved 
 saith unto Peter, It is the Lord. Now wlien Simon Peter heard that it was the 
 Lord, he girt his fisher's coat unto him (for he was naked,) and did cast lumself 
 into the sea. And the other disciples came in a little ship, (for they were not far 
 from the land, but as it were two hundred cubits,) dragging the net with nsheg. 
 As soon then as they were come to land, they saw a firo of coals there, and fiih 
 laid thereon, and bread. Jesus saiih unto th'-m. Bring of the fish which ye 
 have now caught. Simon Peter went up, and drew the net to land full of great 
 fishes, an hundred and fifty and three ; and for all there were so many, yet was 
 not the net broken. Jesus saith unto them. Come and dine. And none of the 
 disciples durst ask him, Who art thou .-* knowing that it was the Lord. JesHS 
 thun Cometh, and taketh bread and givcth them, and fish likewise Thit is now 
 the third time that Jesus shewed himself to his disciples after that he was risaa 
 
316 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 from thti (lead. Po when they hail dineil, Jesii-s siiilh to Simon Pttor, Simon, son 
 of Jonas, l.ivesi tli.iu me more ll-.an tliese? He <aiili unto liiiii. Yea, LoM ; thou 
 know, 'St that I h)ve lliie. lie suilli unto him, Keeii my lambs. He suilh to 
 him ag;:iir. the secoml tune, Pitnon, son of Jonas, lovosi lliou int ■ He saith unto 
 him, \ va, Lord; thou knuvvest thai I l-ive llit-e. HesaiMi unto him, Feeil my 
 sliecp. He saiih unU) him the third timi, Simon, son of Jouas, lovest thou me? 
 Peter was {rrinved, liucan-i; he sji.i unlo him tliR tliirJ lime, Uivust thou mc ! 
 And he said UMio him. Lord, ilii.u knowcst ail things ; thou inowest that I lave 
 thee. Jtsu:! s.iiih unto him, Fr(Mi my sheep. Verily, veriiy, I say un!o thee, 
 VVhenihou wast young thou ;,'iided.st ll.y>elf,and vvalkedst wnitlter thou wouldest : 
 but when thou shall h.- ol.l thou shall sircK-.h hnth thy hand's, and unulhir shall 
 gird thee, and carry ihee wither ihou wouldtst not. 'J'hifs spake he, signifying 
 by what lit-AtU li>i should glorify Goil. .\nd wiien he had sixikeii thix, he .saith 
 unto him. Follow me. Then Peter, turning :i!)out, seelh the discijile whom Jesua 
 Joved folh>wi!ig; wiiich al-o haneil on hi.* hnasl at supper, and saiil, Lord, which 
 is he that helrayctli ther? I\trr seeing him, Hai:li to Jesus, Lord, and what 
 shall this man do: Ji sns >ai!li ui.lo l-im, II I will tliat he tarry (ill F come, what 
 ii that to thee! Follow tliou me. 'J'iien went tins say ing abroad amongst the 
 brethren, that thai liiscijile slioul 1 not die , yet Jisu-< sail not unto liim, Hn shall 
 not die; but if 1 will that he tarry (ill 1 come, what is that to thee? 
 
 The scene of our meditation now changes. All the 
 apostles and a number of other believers have seen 
 Chri.st after his resurrection, time and again, at Jeru- 
 salem. They are convinced he lives. The Paschal 
 week is spent; the time for the meeting of the five 
 hundred brethren draws near; they all proceed to 
 Galilee, according to the previous arrangement made 
 by Christ, and enforced by the angels at the sepulchre, 
 and by our Lord himself, after rising from the dead. 
 A large proportion of the disciples and believers lived 
 in Galilee, others went there to be present at the meet- 
 ing. We follow them to-day. Not, indeed, to be pres- 
 ent at that general assembly where *' more than five 
 hundred brethren" were gathered together, (for of 
 that we shall speak in our ne.xt mecitatioUj) but in or- 
 der to witness and contemplate another occurrence, — 
 one, at least, as interesting as any of those we have 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 317 
 
 already gone through, one very peculiar in many re- 
 spects, and, as we think, comparatively very little un- 
 derstood. It is the appearance of our Lord, as re- 
 corded in the chapter a part of which I have just read 
 in your hearing. 
 
 My hearers perceive that my text is again rather 
 long, and yet it is so inseparably connected, that a di- 
 vision was impracticable. Economy of time and of 
 words on my part, and an undivided attention on yours 
 will, therefore, be the indispensable conditions of a 
 profitable, social meditation upon the subject of our 
 chapter. Nor must you fail to bear in mind what I 
 have said on several former occasions, while I was 
 discoursing upon the resurrection of our Lord. The 
 main plan he had in all his appearances at Jerusalem, 
 and which I have already unfolded to you and recapit- 
 ulated, he is still pursuing; and if you will but follow 
 me attentively through this discourse, and one or two 
 more to be delivered, you will see the important work 
 completed, you will have the key to the conduct of the 
 apostles ever afterwards, and you will possess a sure 
 foundation upon which you may rest with ease and 
 comfort your faith in Christ even in your dying hour. 
 We proceed with our subject. 
 
 We shall endeavor to appreciate, first, — the pecu- 
 liar character of the history itself; secondly, — its 
 bearing upon the case of the disciples, in particular; 
 and thirdly, — dwell for a few minutes upon vvhat is 
 practically important in it, to the believer in every 
 age, 
 
518 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 I. The week of the Jewish passover heing ended, 
 all that the apostles knew was, that the Lord would 
 appear to tiiem in Galilee. They knew that they 
 were to expect him there, and they knew no more. 
 This is the case with every Christian in all his duties 
 relative to the kingdojn of heaven: a command and a 
 promise of blessing and ultimate success is all the 
 Lord gives. Particulars are denied, in older to ex- 
 ercise, not our acumen, but our faith and obedience; 
 and he who undertakes to unveil what the Holy Spirit 
 has concealed, is "a busybody" in God's matters, 
 and an idle servant who will be struck with blindness, 
 and run the risk of perdition unless he repent. The 
 apostles and their companions had learnt the lesson of 
 simple trust and obedience so well by this time^ that 
 when th^ Bolettirtitlfes of thfe grent Week at Jerusalem 
 Wet*e over, wheti the mind of Thomas was turned and 
 pacified, and every concern requiring immediate at- 
 tention at Jerusalem was settled, they set out for their 
 respective places of residence, and calmly return to 
 their several employments. That Christ would appear 
 to them again, and do everything necessary to accom- 
 plish the great end of his coming into the world, they 
 were deeply convinced; so deeply, indeed, that it gave 
 them no concern whether lie would come in a week, 
 or a month, or a year. This is exactly the frame of 
 a true Christian's mind in every age. The Lord will 
 come: of this grand fact he is deeply convinced; so 
 deeply that he cares not when or how. The fanatic 
 may see visions, and guess and calculate from Greek 
 and Hebrew letters till he die, and the unconcerned 
 sinner may slumber till he perish, and the confirmed 
 
.^jlLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBKRIAS. 319 
 
 worldling mock on till the archangel's trump stop 
 his daring derision; — the Christian knows unwaver- 
 ingly that the Lord cometh, and he will mind his duty, 
 keep his lamp burning, and his loins girded about with 
 truth, and his accounts ready. 
 
 Our pious travellers are safely arrived at their 
 respective homes. After resting a few days, it hap- 
 pened one evening that Peter and Thomas, Nathanael, 
 John, James and two other disciples meet together, 
 probably at the house of Simon Peter, which stood 
 near the shore of the sea of Tiberias. Reclining 
 around a frugal supper, they partook of "their meal 
 with gladness and singleness of heart," and when the 
 hymn of praise was sung, they conversed long and 
 with deep interest on the great events which had taken 
 place during their last visit to Jerusalem, and on the 
 still greater events and changes that were evidently 
 close by. In his company they last went up at tho 
 holy season, — but they returned alone; and what a 
 breach had his absence made in their circle, and what 
 a change in their situation! Oh, how of\en had he 
 been sitting with them under this shady tree; — this 
 tree whose full branches, whispering peace and bend- 
 ing down round about, seemed to shut out the noisy 
 world, and every wandering thought, while they glad- 
 ly transmitted the silver rays of the moon, or friendly 
 Bmile of some twinkling star, as if nature had learnt 
 again her original tusk of being a helpmate to piety, 
 and a guide to heaven, for her Lord, the immortal 
 man. Here used to be his seat! — unless he was in- 
 duced to enter the dwelling by the many and importu- 
 nate sufferers, whose infirmities and sicknesses the 
 
500 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 compassionate Saviour bore, as it were, upon his own 
 shoulders. Indeed, where was the spot to which they 
 could turn their eyes without thinking of him? " Do 
 you remember," Peter may have remarked, "that 
 time when he walked on yonder sea, and when I had 
 the daring to try the same, and^ he saved me from a 
 watery grave?" "Aye, you had then no faith," some 
 one replied, " and without his forgiving love you 
 would have perished." "But this was not near as 
 merciful," a third one exclaimed, "as when in that 
 stormy night, you remember, we were all out at sea, 
 and he slept sweetly trusting in God, and when we 
 were all full of unbelief and fear, and roused him with 
 the outcry, 'Lord save us, or we perish!' our poor 
 shell of a boat was full of water and could not bear a 
 thread of canvass, and trembled to the keel at every 
 breaking sea. Indeed, we were at our wit's end, 
 as the Psalmist says. But he rose!" "Yes," an- 
 other one adds, " and methinks I can see his coun- 
 tenance again; how it reproved and comforted us at 
 the same time; and then turning to the foaming waves 
 as a king to his slaves, he ordered peace and stillness 
 and was obeyed in the twinkling of an eye. We, ig- 
 norant, carnal-minded creatures, then little knew who 
 he was, and we were almost in more terror at the 
 miraculous calm which followed than we had been at 
 the gale before. But blessed be God that his charac- 
 ter is now unfolded to us." Meanwhile, Thomas sat 
 with downcast countenance, wiping his eyes till he 
 could keep silence no more. " Oh, brethren, what is 
 it to save worlds from sickness, or from drowning, 
 when compared with the work of redeeming one soul 
 
EARLY MERTING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 321 
 
 from sin and ruin? What is it to pardon the misgiv- 
 ings of fallen nature in the dread hour of overwhelm- 
 ing peril, when compared with forgiving such unrea- 
 sonable, protracted, daring stubbornness and unbelief, 
 as mine was. VVhy am I not now weltering in the 
 rolling billows of that lake which burneth with fire and 
 brimstone?" ** It is owing to his free and tender 
 mercies," they all concluded. *'Yes, brethren,'* 
 John sweetly remarked, '* He is love; and he that 
 dwelleth in love, dwelleth in him. But, beloved, if 
 God so loved us, we ought to love one another." 
 
 It was now between the last quarter and new moon^ 
 you remember; the nights were darksome and still; 
 the moon rose about morning; more favorable nights 
 for fishing could not well be expected. Their con- 
 versation being closed, instead of going to bed, Peter 
 proposed to go a-fishing, and the night was too in- 
 viting and their hearts too full and too much melted 
 into one at the moment, to permit the rest to retire. 
 They all went, labored all the night, and "caught 
 nothing." As the morning approaches, the moon rises, 
 the east begins to glimmer, the shadows flee; the time 
 for fishing is past, and they make for the land. All 
 the region is yet buried in sleep and silence, save the 
 wakeful bird that sings darkling, and the waterfowl 
 which has begun to move swiftly, screaming, through 
 the higher region of the atmosphere, to reach the 
 great western sea before sunrise. As they draw nigh 
 the shore, a person stands there; they know him 
 not; but when they begin to be quite near, before 
 the boat touched the sand, the stranger asks, ** Chil- 
 dren, have ye any meat?" *'No," is the answer; — 
 28 
 
322 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 to which he rejoins, " Cast the net on the right side of 
 the ship, and ye shall find." Though they knew him 
 not, it was no great thing to try the experiment, and 
 when they endeavor to draw the net up again they 
 are hardly able, for the net is full. The association 
 of Jesus and such a draught was natural; quick as 
 lightning it shoots through John's mind, " It is the 
 Lord," and pulling the net as he did next to Peter, he 
 whispers it into his ear. You would, doubtless, not 
 expect to see Peter a minute longer in the boat, 
 though the fishes had betn of pure gold and silver. 
 The net escapes his hands, as it were instinctively; he 
 slips into his upper garment which he had thrown off, 
 and leaps overboard to swim ashore, leaving it to the 
 rest to get along with the heavy net as well as they could. 
 The draught being secured, the other disciples come 
 also on shore, dragging the net to land. By this time 
 they all knew him, but there was something sacred 
 and uncommonly awful in his appearance; something 
 stranfijely mysterious in the whole scene, which pre- 
 cluded every kind of familiarity; and though he ap- 
 peared somewhat changed and less terrestrial, if I 
 may say so, than ever, they durst propose no question. 
 Not far from shore there is a coal-fire with fishes 
 roasting and bread for a breakfast, and Jesus order.s 
 some of the other fishes to be brought and roasted 
 also: not as though the former could not suffice, (you 
 remember the five thousand and the seven thousand 
 men fed miraculously,) but rather to convince the 
 trembling disciples that the food already prepared was 
 a]s9 proper, material food. Then saith Christ, "Come 
 and breakfast," and while they gather around him, he 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 3^3 
 
 pronounces the blessing, and, assuming the office of 
 host, he distributes the fishes and the bread. 
 
 What mortal man would undertake here to draw 
 the line between the natural and the supernatural? 
 They are shaded together as the colors of the rain- 
 bow, and equally inseparable are the intellectual and 
 moral elements exhibited in this narrative; and as 
 little should I undertake to draw the line between the 
 dignity of the divine and sovereign Lord, and the 
 kindness of the loving and tender Master. This 
 shading together of various elements is very often 
 observable in the life of Christ, and the present in- 
 stance differs from the rest only in form and degree, 
 but not in substance. Who kindled the fire? how did 
 he get the bread and the fishes? You might as well 
 a^k, Where did he remain during the ten days after 
 his resurrection? IIow did he pass through doors 
 locked up? How did he knov/ what v, as going on 
 among his disciples, and their thoughts, their frames 
 of mind, and what are the laws of his existence now, 
 etc. etc. I frankly confess to you, I do not know. 
 The laws of the existence of Christ in his spiritual 
 body, and of his moving and acting are as absolutely 
 unintelligible to us, as the laws upon which mind gen- 
 erally, or God himself, exists and acts. It is vain to 
 speculate where we have no means of experience. It 
 is no objection to a doctrine or a fact that it is in- 
 comprehensible to you. Surely there is no time when 
 you expect to know everything, unless you dream of 
 becoming altogether and absolutely gods. Om- 
 niscience is a divine prerogative: you can never have 
 it through all eternity; how much less here belov/, 
 
324 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 Jtt^here we are of yesterday and know nothing. Spec- 
 ulation finds here her impassable bounds; but there 
 lies a world of comfort in this little story, if you have 
 faith to lay hold of it. Christ is the host of his people. 
 How often are they in distress, in poverty, in perse- 
 cution, in foreign climes, on journeys by land and sea. 
 They labor all night and catch nothing, and they pre- 
 pare for a season of severe fasting and distress; and 
 in the meantime, Christ has decked their table, and 
 then meets with them to comfort them in all their 
 troubles; and as soon as they are prepared for it he 
 |)uts them into the way of getting into all plenty, they 
 know not how. I could tell you ten examples from 
 mere remembrance, where the hand of Christ was 
 everything but visible to the very eye; but our time 
 forbids, and such facts are not for everybody. The 
 world will profane them and call them the effect of 
 chance; though it is clearer than noonday that there 
 is not even such a thing as chance in existence, — no, 
 not even if Atheism itself were true. Oh, my brethren, 
 my fellow pilgrims and strangers, the time may come 
 when you will labor all night for the necessaries of 
 i life and will obtain nothing, but it is only a trial of 
 , your faith. Soon the night and darkness will pass, 
 ,. the morning will dawn, and the voice of Jesus will be 
 wafted down from heaven to you, saying, "Children, 
 have ye any meat?" and while the melancholy "No" 
 13 yet on your lips, behold your repast is already pre- 
 pared, your night turned into day, and your troubles 
 : into temporal and spiritual comfort and plenty. 
 
 The breakfast is ended. Before parting, Christ has 
 ft word of importance to speak to Peter. It is natural 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 325 
 
 to suppose that Peter, who leaped overboard an hour 
 ago to come to Christ before the rest could meet him, 
 was also as close as possible about his beloved master 
 during the meal: and the experienced Christian who 
 knows the human heart will not think it too much, if I 
 say Peter probably felt somewhat tempted to outdo the 
 rest of the disciples, not in daring now, but in love to 
 Christ, or whatsoever it was; if I mistake not, it was 
 some kind of emulation which tempted him, implying 
 a comparison between himself and the rest: perhaps a 
 comparison in reference to what is in itself most holy, 
 just and good. This was not as it should have been. 
 No. Why? you say; shall we not each one of us en- 
 deavor to love and serve Christ better that the rest, 
 and be emulous in holy things? I answer with all the 
 emphasis I can command, No, by no means! What! 
 not endeavor to be the most pious of all Christians 
 living, and to leave everybody behind us in godliness? 
 No, no! as you love your souls, no! Here lies the 
 most refined, but also the most dangerous snare of 
 Satan. Avoid it, or you will fall; and your fall will be 
 great. But what shall we then endeavor to be? En- 
 deavor to be the poorest sinners j the golden steps of 
 sanctification lead downward; mark it. What! shall 
 we plunge into sin? God forbid! live like Enoch, if 
 you can; yea, like Christ himself. But either do not 
 compare yourself with other Christians at all, or if you 
 do, be sure to compare yourselves with those who are 
 better than you, and get the lowest place; and that in 
 sincerity and in truth before God. And if you cannot 
 get it in sincerity, infer from it your wickedness and 
 the deep-rooted pride of your heart, and humble your- 
 28* 
 
^ 526 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 selves into dust and ashes. Praj, what is the use of 
 comparing one's self with others who are Jess? Oh, 
 how miserable to see a Christian, who strives to be 
 uppermost and foremost, or who perhaps thinks him- 
 
 ;j. self neglected by his brethren, and strives to show 
 that he is as good a Christian and as useful a member 
 of the Church as anybody. Is there no motive in all 
 
 ^ the dying love of Christ to induce you to love and 
 
 / serve him in secret? Will he not know it? Oh, yea. 
 
 ^And is this not enough? Must the demon of emulation 
 Iflress up in sheep's clothing to impel you to the pro- 
 duction of external fruits of righteousness which you 
 would never have borne had the church been willing 
 to consider you a saint without them? Oh, that the 
 
 ' humbling voice of Christ might come to you with the 
 confounding, heart-searching question, '^Simon, son of 
 Jonas f lovest thou me more than these"?'* "Wilt thou 
 compare thyself again?" Happy if you then under- 
 stand the solemn appeal as Peter did, and if your an- 
 swer will be like his. " Simon, son of Jonas, lovest 
 thou me more than these?" Peter, thoroughly con- 
 verted and changed, understood and took the hint at 
 once, and with humble cheerfulness, as every true 
 Christian in fact does. In an instant he gives up 
 every claim to superiority, contents himself with pro- 
 fessing the simple love of Christ, and for the truth of 
 his profession appeals to the omniscience of his Lord. 
 This he does especially in the 17th verse, where he ex- 
 pressly says, " Lord, thou knowest all things, thou 
 knowest that I love thee." Jesus's all-seeing eye at 
 once discerns the sincerity of Peter's profession, but 
 ulso the necessity of his remembering more distinctly 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 327 
 
 and more continually his late melancholy fall. And 
 thus he wisely connects tl^ese two forever in Peter's 
 mind. Three times he asks, and three times Peter 
 must testify his attachment to his Lord, till his heart 
 and voice almost fail; then Christ gives and confirms 
 to him the charge, '*Feed my sheep! Follow thou 
 me." 
 
 Peter has professed much, and has appealed to high 
 authority. But he has done it in truth, and has met 
 with acceptance. But God has a right to try and test 
 the most sincere profession as well as the most spurious 
 one. Peter's profession was ultimately to be tried by 
 the cross, and our Lord makes of this circumstance 
 another means of saving the beloved disciples from the 
 perils of ease and self-confidence. The consciousness 
 of that approaching trial was to accompany the apostle 
 through life and to keep him continually at the feet of 
 Christ. *' Verily, verily, I say unto thee, when thou 
 wast young," and strong, and knewest nothing better 
 than common rectitude and rights and claims, thou 
 didst make full use of the independence of thy mind, 
 resist wrong, return injuries, and frown at oppression: 
 but thy professed love to me will lead thee another and 
 a harder way hereafter. Thou mayest no more resist 
 evil; and the time cometh when, an old helpless man, 
 thou shalt suffer thyself to be bound, and led to a place 
 where flesh and blood tremble to go. But, when that 
 time is come, then think of my example in death, and 
 act as I did: *' Follow me." Thus saying, Christ pre- 
 pares to withdraw. The words "follow me," were ev- 
 idently ambiguous, and Peter, thinking our Lord might 
 have a private word to speak to him, followed after 
 
328 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 him. John, seeing this, follows also; and Peter, anx- 
 ious to be left alone with 'Christ, who, he thought, had 
 something private to communicate to him, says, " Lord, 
 but what is this man doing ?" Christ replies: " If I 
 will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? 
 follow thou me." This reply corrected Peter's mis- 
 take, for it has evidently no meaning, {[literal tarrying 
 or following after Christ was intended. Its only mean- 
 ing could be, 1 told you, you would die the same death 
 as I did, and exhorted you to copy my example. If I 
 have a different plan with this disciple, and permit him 
 to live till /come to call him home, or even to judge 
 the world, this has nothing to do with your duty to me. 
 Follow me, this is all you have to do!" Peter under- 
 stood the meaning of Christ now. The manner in 
 which our Lord withdrew this time is not mentioned; 
 the popular superstition among the brethren that John 
 would not die till the coming of Christ, that apostle 
 contradicts himself; and after having testified that the 
 facts related in his gospel are true, and that he was 
 an eye and ear-witness of them all, he closes his gos- 
 pel. This brings us to 
 
 II. Our second topic, which will occupy but a few 
 minutes. It is clear that if the five hundred brethren 
 were to be ready for the grand assembly, they must 
 needs receive notice that Christ had made himself 
 visible again after their return to Galilee; otherwise 
 they would naturally soon disperse. This object was 
 accomplished in the present instance, together with 
 some others of still more moment. It will appear in 
 my next discourse, that the chief object of the great 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 329 
 
 meeting alluded to, was not only to give them all an 
 opportunity to see Christ — for this would not have 
 been absolutely necessary, for aught that appears — 
 but to introduce the apostles to the whole church then 
 living as their representatives and inspired teachers, 
 whom they all were unanimously to follow. But if 
 this was to be done, then the conceptions of the disci- 
 ples concerning Christ, were to be ennobled and 
 raised to a certain degree known to Christ only, and 
 their conviction matured; otherwise the mountain 
 weight of apostleship could not consistently be put 
 upon their shoulders. Especially, Peter, who was to 
 act at once so powerful and prominent a part among 
 the twelve, needed to be armed with the panoply of a 
 thorough, ripe experience. All this, perfectly dis- 
 cerned by Christ, was accomplished in the present in- 
 stance; and although this important object does not 
 appear so plain to us, in reference to the other apos- 
 tles, certainly in the case of Peter the indispensable 
 necessity of such an interview, of such a finished 
 preparation for extensive labor in the exercise of deep 
 personal humility, before the great charge was to be 
 committed to him in the presence of the church, is 
 very plain even to us. Peter was now prepared to 
 set out on his apostolic career; and so were the rest. 
 This was another end accomplished. The notice 
 also probably was now sent abroad to all believers, 
 Be ye ready, the Lord hath appeared! This was 
 another still. In the meantime, an impression supe- 
 rior to any former one was left on the minds of the 
 disciples in reference to Christ; a spirituality, a maj- 
 esty, an awe marked this interview, which well pre- 
 
330 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 pared their minds ere long to see him ride up to 
 heaven in a cloud to repossess his throne; and yet 
 there was nevertheless beaming from his conduct all 
 the affection he ever had for them when he was in this 
 world clothed in mortal flesh. Again; as in all the 
 former instances when he appeared to his disciples, so 
 here again, our Lord addresses himself to the external 
 senses, to the intellect, and the moral sensibilities of 
 his friends. No mere appeal to sense, no disproportion 
 of what is intellectual; no morbid, or overstrained ex- 
 ercise of the affection; but the most beautifully pro- 
 portionate exercise of all the faculties of men are 
 discerned here, producing the most satisfactory and 
 invincible kind and degree of conviction en the sub- 
 ject of his real resurrection and the exalted nature of 
 his being. But there is something peculiar connected 
 with the story of our text, which we cannot pass by in 
 silence. After all, the two weeks which the disciples 
 had lately spent in Jerusalem, and during the former 
 of which Christ had been crucified, were a season of 
 high excitement with them. Indeed, our Lord gave 
 every possible opportunity at that time, to become and 
 be wakeful and sober, to retire, to rest, to meditate, to 
 pray, to read the Prophets, to think. His appear- 
 ances there exhibit, as we saw some time since, such 
 a wise economy, and such an adaptation to the differ- 
 ent cases of individuals, as cannot fairly be considered 
 the result of human penetration merely; and every- 
 where he labored to produce, and did produce, a con- 
 viction which rested on a deep foundation. Neverthe- 
 less, there was, perhaps, occasion on the part of the 
 disciples to wish for another interview at this time. 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 331 
 
 Now they were amid the unquestioned realities of 
 common life, in the sober pursuits of trade and domes- 
 tic employment. "If you could see him now," some 
 infidel would perhaps remark to them, " the thing 
 would appear to you quite otherwise." And behold, 
 they saw him now. He appeared. He suffered the 
 excitement wholly to subside; on their journey home- 
 ward he was not seen: he gave them time to recover, 
 to return to their work; then appeared about sunrise; — 
 not his appearance, but the draught of fishes muv^t 
 convince them who he is. Nothing is there to divert, 
 nothing to excite, nothing to frighten them. They eat, 
 they drink, they converse, they are in a frame of mind 
 beyond question of the most sober kind; and the hun- 
 dred and fifty fishes caught, and accurately numbered 
 by them, though dumb, could afterwards still testify to 
 the interesting reality of that heavenly morning scene. 
 
 What a sea of conviction and of cheerful certainty 
 and satisfaction must have rolled into their minds. 
 He is risen again! — he is risen, though the world de- 
 ny it, and all hell tremble to the bottom and foam out 
 mad scorn and lying blasphemy and blazing persecu- 
 tion. He lives! their hearts shouted; and they could 
 hardly await the time when they were permitted to 
 make the temple of Jerusalem ring again with the 
 great, soul-inspiring news. 
 
 Thus you see the various and important objects of 
 this appearance of our Lord. Though learned infi- 
 delity may see no worthy purpose and drift in our 
 story, we do see it, and we cannot spare a portion of 
 holy writ, of which they made such hard efforts to rid 
 themselves. 
 
332 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 III. Several remarks belonging under this head, 
 escaped us and came in by way of digression during 
 the course of our meditation. For this I am not sorry. 
 On'the contrary I rejoice, because it will give me the 
 more time (if any time be left us) to address to you 
 and to myself, not abstract remarks, but a question in 
 the name of Jesus, our risen Lord; a question which 
 carries along with it all the heartsearching, absorbing 
 importance and solemnity of the judgment-day. 
 
 *' Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me.'"' **Lord 
 thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love 
 thee!" 
 
 Need I say more? Is there a heart here so dull 
 and stupid, whose most secret cord does not thrill 
 audibly at the very hearing of this piercing, all-de- 
 cisive question, or stand aghast at the reply, clothed 
 in humble shame, yet full of sacred single-hearted- 
 ness and boldness, and big with eternal consequences.^ 
 But Peter is in heaven, and the question stands re- 
 corded in your Bible, hearer, not as an idle interroga- 
 tory, but to be answered by you. You did not escape 
 the tender regard of Jesus in the administration of his 
 sovereign mercy; he has given you his word, he has 
 propounded to you the great question deciding life or 
 death; the reply of your heart will not escape the all- 
 pervading eye of his omniscience, nor your soul the 
 grasp of his omnipotent hand. I testify to you to-day, 
 that, as this divine service is not an idle round of hu- 
 man ceremony, but the proclamation of peace and 
 everlasting life through Christ, so is the question now 
 propounded to you all not an ingenious display of elo- 
 quence nor a hyperbole; but a sentiment which the 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OP TIBERIAS. S33 
 
 divine Spirit has copied from the book of < uestions ro 
 be used at the judgment-day, and has hung it ou' -f 
 heaven for your reading, and your solemn considera- 
 tion and reply before the all-seeing eye of God. It 
 may be an empty question to Satan or to the damned 
 in hell who are forever lost: but to you, whose sands 
 are running yet, it is real, solemn and eventful, as one 
 of the seven mysterious thunders in heaven. 
 
 Come now, whether you be believers or worldlings, 
 come now and gather round this burning sentence of 
 inspiration, which the ifinger of God has written upon 
 these walls to-day; for I shall not let you go out by this 
 door again, till I have pressed to the utmost of my 
 power its solemn contents, and once more washed my 
 hands of your blood, in the sight of God and angels, 
 and men; or if you are a believer, not until I have 
 poured its healing balm into your soul, and fixed your 
 steadfast eye upon this polar star of your road to 
 heaven. 
 
 My unconverted hearers, it is a matter of no diffi- 
 culty, you yourselves being judges, to decide which 
 dish on your table you like best, which book, which 
 entertainment you prefer, for which of your acquaint- 
 ances you feel any regard or attachment, or whether 
 you do, or do not, love your father or mother, husband or 
 wife, son or daughter, or your own life, etc. It is a 
 matter of simple consciousness, and a little child has an 
 answer ready to this question long before it can re| ly 
 to any other. I shall therefore not permit you to plead 
 ignorance on this subject. To love an individual with- 
 out being conscious of it, is as absurd as any contra- 
 diction in terms can ever be, and the merest refuge of 
 29 
 
334 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 lies behind which any sinner ever endeavored to hide 
 the rebellion of his heart. You know it if you 
 love Christ; and if you love him not, you know it 
 likewise. 
 
 Step forth, then; the risen Saviour is here and asks 
 you, "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me.''*' Re- 
 member that your answer must he given with an 
 appeal to his omniscience. Look back upon your 
 life, examine your dealings and your daily frame of 
 mind, enter into your closet and draw your secret 
 hours to the day-light before God, search your hearts 
 as with a candle, weigh your motives in the balance 
 of the sanctuary, — then open your mouth and speak, 
 and all heaven shall listen and the answer will be re- 
 corded above. 
 
 If from your infancy religion has appeared a gloomy 
 task which a poor man must perform or be lost; if re- 
 ligious meetings and the society of godly people have 
 appeared to you dull seasons, and the Bible a tedious 
 book; if novels, poetry and plays, the political, literary, 
 mercantile, witty, or epicurean and cynic periodicals 
 of our forlorn generation have filled up your leisure 
 hours and engrossed your minds; if you are in the 
 habit of rising up and retiring without prayer, — a 
 thing which no consistent Jew, Mohammedan, or 
 Heathen will do; if, in your dealings with men, honor 
 has been the noblest principle, while self-denying, 
 christian charity has been excluded; i^ your secret 
 hours have been stained with secret crimes, or with 
 thoughtless indifference to your high and divine desti- 
 nation and to the all-pervading presence of God, — 
 void of contemplation and better thoughts, void of de- 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 335 
 
 votion, void of interest, void of spiritual profit; if your 
 grand motive and spring of action has been to get 
 along in the world, as they say, to obtain a situation, 
 to become independent; in one word, to get, to possess, 
 to enjoy, to become something aside from the glory of 
 God, and the love and the kingdom of Christ; no mat- 
 ter whether that something was in itself lawful or un- 
 lawful, great or small; above all things, if Christ and 
 his cross have been to you without form and comeli- 
 ness, if they never melted your heart, nor lifted your 
 soul above the follies and the mole-hill concerns of this 
 trifling world, nor filled you with holy admiration or 
 with holy resolution, with heavenly love and heavenly 
 energy to follow Christ, and to do his will; then, oh, 
 then hesitate not to confess, (for you cannot hide it,) 
 and say. Lord thou knowest all things; thou knowest 
 that I love thee not. Then hesitate not to admit, (for 
 you had better know it in season if peradventure you 
 may be struck with holy terror and turn to Christ and 
 live,) then hesitate not to admit at once, that to you 
 the divine sentiment before us is a dreadful " Mene, 
 mene, tekel, upharsin," i. e. God has remembered thy 
 kingdom and finished it." Thy fleeting privileges, thy 
 moments of mercy hasten to their melancholy catas- 
 trophe: " thou art weighed in the balance (of heaven) 
 and found wanting;" thy kingdom, thy inheritance in 
 heaven, vainly purchased for thee and vainly oflTered, 
 is torn from thee and given to some poor despised 
 heathen in the island of the sea, or in yonder China 
 or India, or to some perishing slave in the new world. 
 Ah! it is a melancholy thing to look about among my 
 hearers and to ask whose case is now described. Who 
 
336 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 will be thrust out of heaven as an enemy of Christ? 
 Methinks I can spare none of you; and blessed be the 
 Lord that I can yet stand between you and ruin, and 
 plead with you the cause of your immortal soul. Alas! 
 in the evil days into which our lot has fallen, we are 
 confined with this privilege almost entirely to the sa- 
 cred desk and to the fleeting hour of preaching. In 
 common conversation you vyill give us no chance. 
 Let me then improve this moment, and plead with you 
 as I have often done before, by all that is dear to you. 
 Love not the world and its toys; but love and follow 
 Christ. Let me throw the whole weight of eternity, 
 of heaven and hell into the scale of your decision, and 
 settle it forever that you will love and follow Christ, 
 and serve and glorify him. Your spiritual grave is 
 open; angels have rolled the rock away: the folding- 
 doors of heaven's gate are thrown back; the gospel- 
 trumpet rings in your ears. Listen, I do beseech you, 
 listen to it while it does sound. Soon it will stop for- 
 ever, to give room to the thunder of the archangel's 
 voice. Then it will be forever too late; and I shall 
 bear witness against you, that you have heard the 
 sound of the gospel-trumpet, and took no warning; and 
 the sword came and took you away, and that your 
 blood is upon your own head. Oh, that the Lord 
 might deliver me from that task, and convert and save 
 you all. 
 
 To those who know Christ and the power of his 
 resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings, the 
 heart-searching question of Christ is addressed for 
 their self-examination, and for their humiliation, no 
 doubt; but also for their comfort. You will not expect 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 337 
 
 me to describe to you the peace and blessedness of 
 Peter, when the great profession was made, his con- 
 science bearing him witness in the Holy Ghost that he 
 spoke the truth in Christ and did not He. And though 
 the remembrance of his fall and of a misspent life 
 humbled him deeply, yet the sense of Jesus's love 
 kept him from sinking, and assured him that his sins 
 were all forgiven, and that the work of divine grace 
 was in his heart. The great evidence of a new state 
 of mind was there, and though he was the least among 
 the saints, he professed Christ, and Christ was all he 
 wanted- 
 
 My brethren and sisters, let us remember this, and 
 not seek again the evidence of our conversion in the 
 imperfect fruits of righteousness we bear. Since Jesus 
 has left this world, and is gone up to heaven whence 
 he came, perfection has ceased to dwell on earth. 
 Let the touchstone of our hopes be the love of Christ. 
 If we can look about over all creation, and then, ap- 
 pealing to his omniscience, say, "Lord, thou knowest 
 that I love thee," and that I love thee more than all 
 these things; more than 1 do father or mother, brother 
 or sister, husband or wife, son or daughter, yea, more 
 than my own life also; though that love may still be, 
 'd.9 indeed it must, infinitely below our debt of grati- 
 tude, infinitely below his merits, his loveliness, and his 
 love to us; though the fruits of our faith and love may 
 be, as indeed they ever must be, infinitely below our 
 obligations to him, and infinitely below his blessed, 
 perfect example — be not disheartened. You still love 
 him more than all besides; and do you think that he 
 layes you less? Sooner will he blot out the stars than 
 9Q* 
 
338 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 quench the little glimmering spark of divine love in 
 your hearls, or leave you to perish. Forget all your 
 own works, all your sins and imperfections, and all 
 your gifts and graces, too, and love him with your 
 whole heart, though it be but small and contracted yet. 
 He will also love you with his whole heart, and his 
 heart is a rolling ocean of love, a burning fire of un- 
 dying affection. Do you think he will reckon with you 
 about your little works? Love does not reckon. Or 
 does he need them? If he were hungry or thirsty, he 
 would not tell you ; Lebanon is too small for an offer- 
 ing, and the beasts thereof too few for a burnt-offering; 
 and the cattle upon a thousand hills are his. It is 
 your heart he wants; if that be his, and wholly his, he 
 is satisfied; he will adorn it for himself without your 
 knowing it. While you tune your plaintive song, «t 
 *'Look not upon me, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, 
 because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon 
 me: my mother's children were angry with me; they 
 made me a keeper of the vineyards; but mine own 
 vineyard have I not kept. Tell me, O thou whom 
 my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest 
 thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one 
 that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?" 
 He will answer, and say, "How fair is thy love, my 
 sister, my spouse! how much better is thy love than 
 wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices!" 
 *' Thou hast loved much, therefore much is forgiven 
 thee." "Follow thou me," and be forever mine! 
 And ere you are aware of it, or think of it, or dare to 
 hope it, or dare to believe it yourself, he will make 
 your light shine before men, that they, not you, may 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 339 
 
 see your good works, and glorify your Father which is 
 in heaven. Like the sun you will warm and quicken 
 all around you, though like him unconsciously, per- 
 haps; like the stars you will shine, but not unto your- 
 self. 
 
 "Awake, O north wind, and come, thou south; 
 blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may 
 flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and 
 eat his pleasant fruits." Amen. 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 XV. 
 
 THE MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 
 
 MARK XVI, 15— 18 J 1 CORINTHIANS, XV, 6. 
 
 And lie said unto them. Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to 
 every creature. He that helieveth and is baptized, sh.ill be saved ; but he that 
 helieveth not ehal) be damned. And these signs shall follow them that believe ; 
 in my name shall they cast out devils ; they shall speak with new tongues j they 
 shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them ; 
 they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover. 
 
 After that, he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once j of whom tbo 
 greater part remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep. 
 
 In selecting my text for my present discourse, I as- 
 sume that Matthew and Mark, in the passages which I 
 read first, and Paul in the one which followed, refer to 
 one and the same event. As I do not enjoy in this 
 view of the subject the assent of some of the latest 
 critics, I feel an obligation briefly and candidly to men- 
 tion the reasons which have led me to the conclusion 
 to which I have come, relative to the identity of the 
 event in the three passages of Scripture. 
 
34^ MEDITATIONS. 
 
 1 . The meeting in Galilee was the all-absorbing sub- 
 ject of expectation after Christ's resurrection. The 
 angels at the sepulchre remind the women of it, and 
 send word to the disciples and to Peter, that it would 
 certainly take place. Christ himself had given to his 
 disciples a special promise of that meeting before his 
 death; and by Mary, whom he met at the sepulchre 
 after rising from the dead, he reminded his brethren of 
 proceeding to Galilee. All these preparations answer 
 well to the meeting of the five hundred, which was no 
 less than the assembly of the whole church then liv- 
 ing. In the above errands of the angels and of Christ, 
 the term '* disciples" is not necessarily restricted to 
 the eleven; other believers were sometimes called so, 
 
 and the expression "brethren," which Mark uses in 
 its place, clearly points to a broader acceptation of 
 the term " disciples." The twelve disciples of Christ 
 were never called his brethren exclusively of other be- 
 lievers. 
 
 2. What Christ says at the meeting itself, concerns 
 the whole church, and cannot be limited to the eleven. 
 They could neither baptize all the nations, nor preach 
 the gospel to every creature, nor enjoy on earth the pre- 
 sence of Christ to the end of time. But the church can, 
 and will do, and enjoy all this. 
 
 3. Some, upon seeing Christ upon that occasion, 
 doubted whether it was him, or not; this could not be 
 expected of the eleven disciples, who had already seen 
 Christ time and again; but must be supposed to refer 
 to some other believers who had never before seen 
 Christ in his glorified and elevated condition; other 
 believers must therefore have been present, and why 
 not all the five hundred? 
 
MEETING OP THE flVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. S4S 
 
 4. A meeting like that of the whole church would 
 naturally be mentioned by the evangelists; but if it is not 
 contained in the portions of Scripture which I interpret 
 as alluding to it, I ask, where is it contained ? To the 
 objection that neither Matthew nor Mark mention the 
 number of believers present to have been so great, I 
 reply, these two evangelists are evidently exceedingly 
 brief towards the close of their accounts; they only 
 mention what is altogether essential for their purpose, 
 and dismiss the rest, or assume it as a well-known fact. 
 Nevertheless, the mention of a mountain in Galilee, 
 already leads to the idea of a. large congregation, one 
 not to be assembled within walls, as the eleven at Je- 
 rusalem used to be; and the recollection of the reader 
 at the period when the gospels were written, would 
 then easily supply what the necessity of conciseness 
 did not permit the evangelists to insert. 
 
 While we implore the assistance of Him who alone 
 can guide us into all truth, we proceed to the contem- 
 plation of the solemn and interesting event before us. 
 It is the only instance in the history of our globe, when 
 the whole church of Christ was assembled in one place, 
 with Christ himself, visible and audible in the midst of 
 them. Till the eternal separation of the chaff from the 
 wheat, of the good seed from the tares, — till the con- 
 summation of all things, such a meeting will take place 
 no more. 
 
 Unwilling to lose any prominent part of my text, I 
 must again beg the indulgence of my audience, if the 
 arrangement of the discourse exhibits nothing like logic. 
 The substance of it shall not be destitute of reason and 
 argument. The fact is, that I want to occupy the 
 
344 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 whole ground as far as my time will permit. If I were 
 to cut up this meditation into propositions, 1 should want 
 to stretch their terms beyond the power of language. 
 But I feel as though we should all be most profited, if 
 we should, with one accord accompany the little flock 
 on their way to the solitary and interesting meetings and 
 then sitting down with them, listen with solemn atten- 
 tion to the weighty and gracious words of Christ himself. 
 Let us then arise, my friends, and go up to the mount, up 
 where every better emotion brightens; where the pulse 
 of spiritual life beats higher, and where the bosom 
 swells and heaves as though it wanted to drink in the 
 whole river of the water of life. O, that none of you 
 might now remain below at the foot of the mountain, 
 to hear and see nothing but the thunderings and the 
 lightnings of divine justice provoked, and the shaking 
 of nature before him to whom all power is given in 
 heaven and on earth. 
 
 I. Our prilgrimage to the mount of vision is our 
 first united task. But whither? into a mountain in 
 Galilee, according to Matthew xxvi, 32, xxvi, 7,jl0, 16, 
 and other passages. But into which mountain? Scrip- 
 ture is silent on the subject: an ancient tradition, ac- 
 cording to some writers, points us to Tabor. This tra- 
 dition appears to me to possess a high degree of prob- 
 ability. It was on this mountain, according to the in- 
 variable testimony of antiquity, that Christ was trans- 
 fiorured; he knew it as a convenient and safe place of 
 retirement. The topographical position of Tabor was 
 exceedingly favorable for the purpose of our text. Its 
 distance from the sea of Tiberias is but eight or nine 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 345 
 
 miles, equally far was Nazareth from it. Magdala, the 
 city of Mary Magdalene, was at the same distance. 
 Even Samaria on the south-west, and Capernaum on 
 the north-east, were but twenty miles off. It was on 
 the west side of the lake of Tiberias, that Christ had 
 already appeared, as we saw in our last discourse, and 
 thereabout his followers must have been gathered in 
 expectation of the meeting. The peculiar nature of 
 the mountain itself was perhaps more favorable than 
 that of any other in Galilee. Tabor is a solitary cone 
 north-east of the plain of Esdraelon, from four to five 
 hundred fathoms high, with a platform on the top, 
 of near half an hour's walk in circumference. The 
 sides of the mountain, composed of limestone, were, 
 and still are, covered with a forest of oaks. In less 
 than an hour its summit can be reached, but the latter 
 haif of the journey being difficult and uncomfortable, 
 the top of Tabor has always been a solitary place. In the 
 morning the summit of the mountain is covered with a 
 cloud, which, towards noon, passes away before a fresh 
 breeze, by which the height is sometimes rendered un- 
 pleasant that part of the day. As the cloudy covering is 
 rarified, a prospect opens, well calculated to ex- 
 pand the bosom of man, and prepare the most trembling 
 heart for the conception of great resolutions and vast 
 hopes. On the south, successive vallies and hills run 
 down as far as the grand rock of Jerusalem. On the 
 east, proud Jordan meanders with royal ease along the 
 fertile valley, and the lake of Tiberias reflects the can- 
 opy of heaven with its passing clouds. Still farther 
 east, the vallies of Hauran lie spread out; and on the 
 Borlh, tower the Hasbeian and Casmian mountains, 
 .30 
 
346 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 with the majestic Lebanon behind them. And finally, 
 on the west the fruitful plains of Galilee shade away 
 into a picture more and more delicate, till the eye can 
 perceive them no more. Mountains close the scenery, 
 otherwise the Mediterranean sea might be seen. And 
 how well our Lord knew to make nature tributary to 
 his holy purposes, I need not prove; and why should 
 he not have done so here. I need only add, that the 
 season of the year as well as a multitude of other cir- 
 cumstances, arising from the nature of the spot just 
 described, and indeed of the meeting itself, oblige us 
 to suppose that the journey was performed during the 
 latter part of the night, and that the rising sun found 
 them all assembled, and Christ in the midst of them. 
 
 But let us anticipate nothing. We are in Galilee 
 still. Mysteriously surrounded by him, whom we used 
 to see in mortal flesh, we are awaiting among the rest 
 of his disciples the coming of that interesting moment 
 when the long promised meeting on yonder solitary 
 mountain, shall be announced. All necessary prepa- 
 rations are made, all minds calmed, settled, solem- 
 nized, — every carnal expectation hushed, every doubt 
 dispelled; the time is come. The notice is given in 
 the evening, and flies from heart to heart, from house 
 to house on the wings of sacred joy. Angels appear 
 to be the bearers of the holy errand; for it moves with 
 the swiftness and the unfailing certainty of lightning. 
 The midnight breeze wafts the glad tidings to the 
 dwelling-place of every distant believer, not one ex- 
 cepted. But upon the enemies a deep sleep hath 
 fallen from the Lord, and not one of them apprehends 
 the approach of the great hour. They all slumber un- 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 347 
 
 conscious; no mocker annoys the harmless pilgrims; 
 no cursing or trifling wretch disturbs their pious con- 
 versations and the psalms they sing by the way; no 
 foe obstructs their path; no spy is hid on the mountain- 
 top to mark them for prison and slaughter. 
 
 Like scenes are acting over in our times; and they 
 have in fact always occurred since the meeting in 
 Galilee. How often does it happen that God puts it 
 into the hearts of some despised Galileans or Naza- 
 renes to get together in an early meeting before sun- 
 rise, to meet the Lord, to pray together to him, to 
 meditate upon his word and to receive his command- 
 ments. Thoughtless men either know nothing at all 
 about it, or they smile at the superstitious notions of 
 these singular people. It is a matter of no conse- 
 quence with them; the rearing of a house, the pur- 
 chase of a fashionable toy, the lying tales of the day, 
 and every other like folly receives incomparably more 
 attention than such a superstitious prayer-meeting. 
 And then, commercial news, literary publications, 
 political phenomena, — who would ever be so ridicu- 
 lous as to degrade them to a comparison with the des- 
 picable season of an early social devotion to which 
 none of the "wise men after the flesh," none of "the 
 mighty," none of "the noble" are called. But sooner 
 or later, the consequences of such a despised prayer- 
 meeting are felt; and many a sleeper who mocked or 
 cursed them in his heart while stretched on his couch, 
 can all the night through get neither sleep to his eyes 
 nor slumber to his eyelids; for the Holy Spirit has 
 descended, and conviction has fastened upon him, re- 
 sistlessly, till he cries for mercy and submits. And in 
 
348 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 another house or palace, you find, perhaps, the unre- 
 claimed rebel sealed to destruction. Ahab or Julian 
 stretched on his bier, or Saul struck with madness, or 
 Herod writhing under the gnawing of the undying 
 worm, or Voltaire or Francis Newport breathing out 
 with their last curse their despairing souls, doomed to 
 hell fire. Two or three praying Christians assembled 
 can open the gate of heaven, and bring down the Holy 
 Spirit, and where he comes, there are " voices, and 
 thunderings and lightnings and an earthquake;" there 
 is judgment held, eternal destinies are settled, eternal 
 interests gained or lost, and souls sealed for heaven 
 and put forever beyond the subtlety and power of 
 earth and hell, or sealed for destruction and given up 
 to reprobation and damnation irrecoverable, " hopeless 
 as the decisions of eternity and the revei*sion of doom.'* 
 And you may believe this or not; this does not change 
 the case: eternity will reveal it ere long. Look at 
 the christian institutions of the day: may God keep 
 us humble and contrite while we ask. Are not Bible, 
 missionary, tract, temperance and many other so- 
 cieties on either continent, the fruits, the consequences 
 of such meetings? Do they not now, as it were, live 
 by them.'' Reasoning from what they have done, tell 
 me whether they will not ultimately change the moral 
 aspect of this entire world, and whether kings, or wise 
 or mighty men will be able to resist them.'' Be careful 
 and despise not a couple of ignorant praying Christians 
 nor dare to slumber while they pray! They are hand- 
 ling the undying spark from the altar in heaven; if 
 they cast it into the mine, there is no telling where 
 the resistless explosion will stop. 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 349 
 
 But we lose sight of our travellers. It is again 
 about full moon, and the nights are cool and delightful. 
 During the night, our pilgrims started; and as the 
 morning dawns they ascend in small companies on 
 every side of the mountain. 1 here were the eleven 
 disciples, all the believing relatives of our Lord, Laz- 
 arus and his sisters, Joseph of Arimathea and Nico- 
 demus, a number of converted Samaritans, Roman 
 officers, Greek proselytes, and man/ from the various 
 surrounding countries whom Christ had healed and 
 who believed on him. 
 
 As they mount up beyond the inhabited base of the 
 mountain, the region becomes more and more still and 
 devotional. All nature seems to rest in contemplation 
 and to be preparing to meet the rising sun, her king, 
 adorned with the jewelry of a rich, refreshing dew. 
 By and by, the lively quail begins, in the deep clefts of 
 the high lime-rock, to call herlittle neighbors to devotion 
 and labor. A solitary lark or two are already warbling 
 in the air hovering about the mountain-top. The 
 wakeful birds here and there prepare their voices for 
 the morning hymn, and the stork on the inaccessible 
 peak bestirs herself to guide the concert. There is 
 much of sacred beauty in simple nature, and happy the 
 man who can walk abroad alone and open his heart 
 wide, that God may fill it with all the wonder, delight 
 and praise for which his perfect and mighty works call 
 so mightily. Our pilgrims arrive on the summit, 
 issuing, about sunrise, from different points of the for- 
 est. Could I but describe to you now their meeting, 
 their salutations, their joy, their love! But I cannot. 
 No doubt many were delightfully surprised, too, to 
 30* 
 
350 5IEDITAT10NS. 
 
 'see a friend, a brother, a sister, an aged father, a def- 
 creped mother, unexpectedly in the pious circle. Why! 
 are you here also? I thought you were a mortal enemy 
 to our heavenly Lord, and to all his people. What 
 brought you here, I pray ? A mute embrace, a blush, 
 a trickling tear were the answer. But what surprised 
 all of them most, was, no doubt, the large number that 
 came together. But a few weeks after our Lord's ig- 
 noriiinlous death, after a few appearances, before the 
 Pentecost-day even, " More than five hundred breth- 
 ren!" Oh, the power of divine grace! Oh, the re- 
 sistless charms of the cross! There are some here 
 who know what such a meeting means. It is a fore- 
 taste of heaven, and cannot be described. 
 
 They are assembled, they are gathered close to- 
 gether, they are yet pressing each other^s hands when 
 the Lord appears! This was the interesting moment, 
 the meridian height of the scene. An awful silence 
 ensued. Love and reverence bow them to the dust; 
 they surround him, some kneeling, some lying on their 
 faces, some looking up to him with mingled rapture 
 and self-abasement. It is a scene of holy and over- 
 whelming interest. They know not what they are 
 doing. But there was so much of the heavenly, of the 
 angelic and the divine in his appearance, that they ex- 
 perience something of that prostration of nature which 
 always attended the special divine presence through 
 the Old and New Testaments. " And when they saw 
 him," says Matthew, " they worshipped him" pros- 
 trate, " but some doubted." And here it is where 
 another interesting portion of holy writ gives and re- 
 ceives light and significancy as we shall briefly show. 
 
jVieet1i\<; of the five hundred brethren. o5i 
 
 The evangelists, (Matthew xvii., Mark ix. and Luke 
 ix.) state that during the second year of our Lord's 
 ministry, he once took with him Peter, John and 
 James up into a high mountain. There Moses and 
 Elijah appeared ; our Lord's whole aspect was changed 
 and glorified; a voice from heaven was heard de- 
 clarinor him the Son of God, the Saviour of the world. 
 The disciples were prostrated and overcome hy the 
 scene till it was over, till Moses and Elijah disappeared 
 again, and Christ resumed his usual appearance and 
 spake to them in the same kind and familiar manner 
 as before. On descending from the mountain, "he 
 charged them that they should tell no man what things 
 they had seen, till the vSon of Man were risen from the 
 dead." Why they should tell it then, was dark to 
 them. They of course obeyed, and kept the facts in 
 their minds as a mysterious thing to which futurity 
 was to give them the key. This key was given to 
 them in the occurrence of the morning of which we 
 now speak. The appearance of Christ was so heaven- 
 ly as to prostrate the whole assembly. Trembling na- 
 ture testified that God was present. But was this God 
 Jesus of JVazareth? Was the personage they saw, their 
 beloved master.'' They had never seen him thus, not 
 even after his resurrection; perhaps not even the 
 eleven had seen him thus. No wonder that some of 
 the assembly doubted. And thus the moment had 
 come when Peter, James and John could arise and 
 testify, "Yes, brethren, it is Him you see. We have 
 seen him so before. A year ago and on this very spot 
 (for it was probably the same) we saw him so, and his 
 appearance was no less superior, no less awful then, 
 
3^2 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 than it is now, nor was our amazement and terror less 
 great than yours is at this moment. Let us, therefore, 
 dismiss every other thought and listen to what our 
 Lord has to say." "Lord, speak, for thy servants 
 hear," was the universal voice, and this brings us to 
 the second part of our meditation. 
 
 II. Having already consumed so much time in the 
 first part of my discourse, I am compelled to study 
 brevity, though there is a world of matter before me 
 now. 
 
 There is a seeming contradiction in the story of our 
 text which we must first remove. In introducing us to 
 this scene, Matthew mentions the eleven alone, and 
 Mark refers to them and to them only. The words of 
 Christ, on the other hand, are evidently not to be lim- 
 ited to them. Those in which miraculous powers are 
 promised were common to many other believers in the 
 apostolic age, and are confined only to a certain pe- 
 riod, but not to certain persons; and those words 
 which contain the command of preaching the gospel to 
 the entire world, and the promise of his presence to 
 the end of time, evidently point to the church of Christ 
 in every age. The solution is, that the eleven are thus 
 particularly mentioned, because they were promi- 
 nently, though not exclusively, addressed. By doing 
 this, Christ established or confirmed their apostolic 
 character before all the assembly, and settled forever 
 who were to be the ultimate authority in the church. 
 This circumstance accounts at once for the fact, that 
 none of the converted relatives of Christ, none of the 
 converted priests or pharisees, none of those believers 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. S&S 
 
 even who themselves wrought miracles, ever so much 
 as attempted to become the infallible leaders of the 
 church, or to vie with the eleven in authority; but 
 willingly and faithfully followed their directions, what- 
 soever they were. 
 
 But let us hear what he says. The assertion of his 
 own character, the great duty and the great privilege 
 of the church; this is the three-fold point of view 
 under which his weighty address will best be ranked. 
 
 " All power is given unto me in heaven and in 
 earth." All depends here upon the question, What is 
 the meaning of " heaven and earth," in the language 
 of Scripture. We are, doubtless, not to give it a 
 meaning foreign to Scripture usage, unless we mean 
 to handle the word of God deceitfully. A few passages 
 will put this subject beyond every candid or reasonable 
 doubt. 
 
 It means the visible creation without any limitation 
 whatsoever. " Jn the beginning God created the 
 heaven and the earth." Genesis i. 1. Here heaven 
 and earth are the universe most plainly: heaven in- 
 cludes the stars, Stc, all the systems of heavenly 
 bodies visible to us; '* Let there be stars in the firma- 
 ment of heaven." Genesis i. 14. "Thus the heavens 
 and the earth were finished, and all the hosts of them. 
 Genesis ii. 1. "The most high God, possessor of 
 heaven and earth." Genesis xiv. 19. 22. " Till hea- 
 ven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle shall in 
 nowise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled." Mat- 
 thew V. 18. " The Lord (Jehovah) who made hea- 
 ven and earth." Psalms cxv. cxxi. cxxiv, cxxxiv. 
 cxlvi, Isaiah xxxvii. Jeremiah xxxii. Acts iv. and 
 
354 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 in other places. The same sense it has in a multitude 
 of passages, as every child knows. Again, it means 
 the habitations of the moral and intelligent beings in 
 this and in the spiritual world. "He doeth according 
 to his will in the army of heaven (angels and saints) 
 and among the inhabitants of earth." Daniel iv. 15. 
 '* Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth, for Jehovah 
 speaketh." Isaiah i. 2. Here the universe is ad- 
 dressed, but with special regard to the intelligent in- 
 habitants of either world. "Let heaven and earth 
 praise him." Psalms Ixix. 34. Heaven is the spirit- 
 ual world conceived of under the category of place. 
 *'He (God) will hear from his holy heaven;" (Psalms 
 XX. 6.) i. e. from the world of spirits where he emi- 
 nently dwells, being a spirit. *' Heaven is my throne 
 and earth my footstool." Isaiah Ixvi. 1. "Do I not 
 fill heaven and earth? says Jehovah." Jeremiah xxiii. 
 24. Angels always come down from heaven; the uni- 
 versality of Jehovah's reign is therefore expressed 
 thus: "Thou art God of all kingdoms, thou hast made 
 heaven and earth." 2 Kings xix. 15. 2 Chronicles 
 ii. 12. Nehemiah ix. 6. And his supreme greatness, 
 too high to be reached by finite beings. " He is high 
 as heaven; what canst thou do?" But I must desist. 
 Passages of this kind are too many and too familiar to 
 make it necessary to cite more. To say that heaven 
 means the church, and earth the wicked world, or 
 that heaven is the church in the other world, and earth 
 the church in this, and the like pitiful contrivances to 
 escape the influence of an unwelcome truth, is a 
 forlorn endeavor. An unqualified denial is all I have 
 for them. Until those men who want to impose such 
 
MEETING OP THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. S55 
 
 perversions upon us bring me one good passage in 
 proof of what they say, I should consider it a loss of 
 time and character to refute them." No! this is my 
 only argument, until I see more than great swelling 
 words, and wholesale assertions without proof. 
 
 "All power," etc. etc. Do you know now what 
 this means.'' Do you make it less than omnipotence? 
 If so, let us see your proofs; and if from Genesis to 
 Revelation you find a passage fit for your purpose, 
 you are the first who ever found it, and I give up my 
 argument at once. Omnipotence, then, is its import. 
 But that omnipotence is an absolutely divine attribute, 
 and that one divine attribute cannot exist in a being 
 without all the others, and that the being who pos- 
 sesses them is God — to deduce and prove all this, 
 falls into the department of philosophy, and can 
 be carried through triumphantly. But I waive this 
 here, because it does not enter necessarily into my 
 purpose. 
 
 You remember what I said respecting the exalted 
 appearance of Christ, and now how these mighty words 
 will correspond with it, is too plain to escape your 
 notice; but what follows corresponds no less with it. 
 An assertion of extensive import he has made respect- 
 ing himself, a commission of immense extent follows. 
 " Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to 
 every creature." Salvation or ruin shall be the una- 
 voidable alternative attending your administration. 
 Baptize them and teach them to observe all which I 
 commanded you. Convert the whole world! Truly a 
 commission which needed to be supported by the om- 
 ^nipotence of him who gave it. To any other one than 
 
S5G MEDITATIONS. 
 
 an omnipotent being reasonable men would have an 
 swered, and rightly, Are you beside yourself, or do 
 you think that we are so, to give us such a ridiculous 
 charge as this? Who will go over the world and 
 change the hearts of selfish men to the love and per- 
 formance of precepts as spiritual and self-denying as 
 those which we are to teach them. Has ever a sober, 
 thinking man, has ever any philosopher thought of 
 such a thing? Yea, has ever any dreaming theorist 
 been extravagant enough to think of it? Has Pythag- 
 oras, Socrates or Plato, or Confucius been bold 
 enough to think of a scheme like this? You say they 
 were not enlarged enough for the conception; they 
 were uncommissioned of heaven. Be it so. Has ever 
 Moses thought or talked of such a work? Never. 
 The prophets indeed speak, and with transcending 
 beauty to be sure, of a golden age of the world, but 
 they merely speak of it, and none of them has ever en- 
 tertained the extravagant notion of carrying it into ex- 
 ecution, and that by a handful of ignorant and despised 
 men as we are? Never, never! we shall not — we 
 cannot comply. Thus they might have said, had the 
 charge come from a mere man. But this is not the 
 case. The charge came from one who takes no refu- 
 sal, and who can and does give with the command the 
 ability to perform it, though it be to create worlds. 
 *' All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth," 
 " Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to 
 every creature." Ah, to be sure, this harmonizes 
 well; and the retrospect of 1800 years, and especially 
 the short but rich and wonderful history of evangelical 
 missions — (may God take all the glory to himself J) 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 357 
 
 these are commenlaries upon the texts quoted, which 
 outstrip the boldest flight of fancy. 
 
 " Go ye into all the world and preach the Oospel to 
 every creature." You see the extent and beauty of 
 the commission. It is a soul-stirring conception broad 
 as the universe, deep as the fathomless ocean, delight- 
 ful as the untarnished bow of mercy in the summer 
 cloud. Tell me no more of the gigantic greatness of 
 ancient times and generations. I know they were 
 gigantic, while the self-conceited vulgar of these days 
 "of small things," have dwindled into dwarfs, I 
 know there is no Alexander, no Sesostris among your 
 crowned conquerors, and their cabinets are chess-^ 
 boards, where cunning, not wisdom, is displayed. 
 Our poets, alas, make rhymes to get bread, and our 
 philosophers are full of themselves, and void of God 
 and divine thing^s. I know that among our poets are 
 no Homers, among our philosophers there is no Soc- 
 rates, and among our lawyers no Demosthenes. I 
 can well remember the story of the gigantic tower of 
 Niilirod, whose remains have outlived 4000 years; I 
 too have read of the Rhodian image, of Diana's tem- 
 ples, of cities with an hundred gates; of catacombs 
 and pyramids, and of the excavated mountains of India, 
 before which our enlightened age stands in silent 
 wonder. These efforts betray vast conceptions, no 
 doubt, and the men who made them knew how to 
 calculate on a bold scale, and then to set about their 
 work with an earnestness that deserves high credit 
 while the earth shall stand. It is indeed grand to 
 think what notions the head of man can give birth 
 to, and what his hands can mould, frame, or rear. 
 31 
 
358 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 But his mastery over brute force or mechanical power 
 is after ail but a fraction of his native excellency and 
 inferior in kind; and the pride of tyranny which 
 prompted all the great efforts of antiquity, and the 
 filth of immorality, and the superstition which cling to 
 their productions of art and to their nervous writings, 
 are matters of deep sorrow to the lover of mankind, 
 and forbid his desire to roll back gone-by centuries; 
 and, blessed be God, he need not roll them back. 
 Why should he? Do you desire to be engaged in a 
 great work? here is the greatest work the world 
 ever saw, — the illumination and salvation of a world! 
 Do you want vastness? here it is. It could not be 
 vaster. Do you want intellectuality? here it is; it 
 could not be more intellectual. Do you want useful- 
 ness? here is usefulness in its perfection. Do you 
 want what the admired works of antiquity lack — sim- 
 plicity, philanthropy, moral beauty, heavenly temper, 
 godlike fruits to others and the noblest conceivable self- 
 reward, i. e. reward undeserved and unsought, most 
 freely bestowed, yet surer than the rising of the sun, 
 most honorable both to the giver and to the receiver? 
 here, here they are, all bound up indissolubly in the 
 great commission which Christ gave to his little flock 
 on the solitary mountain in Galilee, when he said, 
 '' All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth," 
 *'Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to 
 every creature." But, my friends, this is a suitable 
 place for you to stop, and to ask yourselves, one by 
 one here. What am I engaged in? Am I engaged in 
 this great work? I need not be a minister, or mis- 
 sionary for that. Do I possess the kingdom of God in 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 359 
 
 myself, and do I promote it in the world as I walk 
 along in the path of my duty? Perhaps you say, I am 
 but an insignificant individual — what can I alone do? 
 Who wants you to do something alone? I, too, am 
 but small; but if I must be a drop, I will be a drop in 
 the ocean of God's universal kingdom, and not in the 
 filthy puddle of this world. Oh, my friends, what are 
 you about; your souls are indeed drops fallen from the 
 clouds of heaven; shall they die in the stagnant pool 
 of selfishness and moral pollution, or in uninterested 
 sloth and thoughtlessness? or shall they swell the 
 tide of Ezekiel's river rolling over this world with 
 healing power? Ah! think — make up your mind — life 
 and death are before you, and life and death only. A 
 third choice you have not. It is no pleasure to perish 
 in company. 
 
 But we hasten to the close. The great privilege of 
 the church is the legacy of the continual presence of 
 her Almighty Lord and Head. The first part of 
 Christ's promises, awarding to some the gift of mir- 
 acles, is best commented upon by the Acts of the 
 Apostles and the authentic history of the church. It re- 
 lated to those to whom afterwards that talent was com- 
 mitted and to none else. Its purpose was to put the 
 seal of heaven upon the doctrines of the gospel; that 
 seal was put on, and the history of sacred and profane 
 history on the subject furnishes us with materials for a 
 rational conclusion, equally good and imperious with the 
 evidence of our own senses. Every sober, well-trained 
 reasoner knows this. But the second part of the 
 promise, being of equal extent with the command just 
 noticed, has the same immediate practical interest to 
 
360 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 every true believer under heaven, till the Son of Man 
 shall come in the glory of his Father. 
 
 " Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of 
 the world," I am fully aware, and I willingly grant, 
 that there is a mental presence in some place remote 
 from us, which may be predicated of any man. Says 
 Paul to the Corinthians, "For I verily, as absent in 
 the body, but present in spirit, have judged already as 
 though I were present, concerning him that hath so 
 done this deed." This is a presence in imagination 
 most clearly, the apostle imagining himself in the 
 midst of the church of Corinth to excommunicate a 
 young man who was guilty of gross misconduct. So 
 he says to the Colossians, (ii. 5.) " for though I be 
 absent in the flesh, yet am I with you in the spirit, 
 joying and beholding your order, and the steadfastness 
 of your faith in Christ." Nobody has ever inferred 
 from these passages that Paul was omnipresent; for 
 ihoy are given in such a connection as to prevent 
 every mistake, and to show that they are to be taken 
 in the same sense in which we say. Distance does not 
 separate true friends; We are daily among our beloved 
 in lands remote, etc. Another presence is the pro- 
 phetic one in a vision. When Gehazi run after Na- 
 aman whom Elisha had healed from leprosy without 
 taking any reward of him, and when he took money 
 and raiment from the Syrian, and hid it, and then came 
 before his master, prepared to play the hypocrite and 
 the liar, his master said to him, " Went not mine heart 
 with thee when the man turned again from his chariot 
 to meet thee? Is this a time to receive money, and to 
 receive garments, and oliveyards and vineyards, and 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 361 
 
 sheep and oxen, and men-servants and maid-servants? 
 The leprosy therefore of Naaman shall cleave unto 
 thee and unto thy seed forever." This was a presence 
 in the prophetic vision, and nobody ever fell into the 
 mistake of supposing Elisha present everywhere on 
 earth, and at all times till the world shall end. 
 
 A widely different impression is made by those pas- 
 sages of the kind when Jehovah is the subject. Ex- 
 odus iii. 12, Jehovah says to Moses, "Certainly I will 
 be with thee," i. e. in the whole work of Israel's de- 
 liverance from the Egyptian bondage. Deuteronomy 
 xxxi. 6, 8, Moses says to Joshua, "Be strong and of 
 good courage. Fear not, nor be afraid of them. For 
 Jehovah thy God, he it is that doth go with thee ; he 
 will not fail thee nor forsake thee." Joshua i. 5, Jeho- 
 vah himself says to Joshua, *' As I was with Moses, so 
 will I be with thee; I will not fail thee nor forsake 
 thee." "Be not afraid," this is the divine promise to 
 Jeremiah (i. 8.) "be not afraid of their faces, for I am 
 with thee to deliver thee, saith Jehovah. Similar is 
 the promise of Christ to Paul on the road to Damas- 
 cus. " I am Jesus whom thou persecutest." Arise! 
 I have appeared unto thee to make thee a minister 
 and apostle both of the things which thou hast seen, 
 and of those thou shalt yet experience. And I will 
 deliver thee from the people and the nations unto 
 whom now I send thee, etc. All these promises be- 
 speak a presence widely differing from that of Paul 
 among the Corinthians and Colossians in the passages 
 referred to, or of Elisha with his servant Gehazi. But 
 by far the most emphatic and extensive one of the kind 
 is the promise of Christ before us: " Lo, I am with 
 31* 
 
362 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 you every day, or all the days, (nixaag tag jy^rj^ac) to 
 the very consummation of time, (ewe tt/? owrsKsvag rov 
 aimog.) And now add to this, that he who gave the 
 promise implying omnipresence, had professed with the 
 same breath to be omnipotent, and that with the same 
 breath he had given a charge to his disciples to preach 
 the gospel to every man, woman and child: a charge 
 which runs down to the end of time, and which pre- 
 sented difficulties altogether unconquerable by flesh 
 and blood, — and then say, whether this promise, 
 which must correspond to the profession and the 
 charge preceding, is not the grandest and weightiest 
 of this kind on all the pages of the sacred records, 
 from Genesis to Revelation. 
 
 I close unwillingly and reluctantly. I would I had 
 another hour, at least, for practical remarks, both to 
 the professed friends of Christ and to those who aim at 
 a ruinous neutrality. 
 
 The object of our Lord in this remarkable assembly 
 was now obtained. All his people knew who he was, 
 their great duty in his service, their debt of love; their 
 relation to the world was clear to them, and all that 
 was cheering and quickening was richly given to them 
 in the great promise. The character of the apostles 
 was established, and that church was organized which 
 will prove the joy of the whole earth, which the gates 
 of hell will not overcome, and which will stand til! 
 eternity shall be no more. 
 
 All flesh is grass, and the hypocrite is lighter than 
 vanity, and is as nothing. But before the true believer 
 let the kings of the earth tremble, and the wise stop 
 their mouths, for the Lord Almighty is about him, and 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 363 
 
 will plead his cause. Let the sincere Christian re- 
 member that he is never alone, but that the Mahanaim 
 of the Almighty are his van and his rearward and sur- 
 round him on the right and on the left. But this also 
 is never to be forgotten, viz. that the presence of God 
 is attached to the work of proclaiming the Gospel to 
 the perishing world whose messenger of peace the 
 Christian is charged to be, and that whenever he pre- 
 sumes to seek his own, the impenetrable shield of his 
 protection is gone, and the fiery darts of Satan may 
 pierce his heart and make a corpse of him ready to be 
 buried in hell. 
 
 Here is the secret unfolded why the church has 
 been so lean at different times. She forgot and for- 
 sook her work, and Christ forsook her. But the time 
 is at hand when she will rise in the fullness of her 
 strength, and sound the trumpet of the gospel to make 
 the earth tremble, and the heavens resound. Then 
 shall the omnipotent arm of her Lord be made bare, 
 terror shall overwhelm the persevering rebel, and the 
 glory of God shall cover the earth as the waters fill the 
 sea. Amen. 
 
MEDITATIONS. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 
 
 ACTS I, 4-11; LUKE XXIV, 59—52; MARK, XVI, 19. 
 
 And being assembled together with them, commanded them that they should 
 not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father, which, saith 
 he, ye have heard of me. For John truly baptized with water ; but ye shall be 
 baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence. When they therefore were 
 come together, they asked him, saying. Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again 
 the kingdom of Israel .'' And he said unto them, It is not for you to know the 
 times or the seasons which the Father hath put in his own power. But ye shall 
 receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be wit- 
 nesses unto me, both in Jerusalem and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the 
 uttermost parts of the earth. And when he had spoken these things, while they 
 beheld, he was taken up ; and a cloud received him out of their sight. And 
 while they looked steadfastly toward heaven, as he went up, behold, two men 
 stood by them in white apparel ; which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand 
 ye gazing up into heaven.'' This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into 
 heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven. 
 
 And behold, 1 send the promise of my Father upon you: but tarry ye in the 
 city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from on high. And he led 
 them out as far as to Bethany ; and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them. 
 And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them and carried 
 up into heaven. And they worshipped him, and returned to Jerusalem with 
 great joy. 
 
 So then, after the Lord had spoken unto them, he was received up into heaven, 
 and sat on the right hand of God. 
 
366 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 Once more I must call upon my hearers to accom- 
 pany me in my wanderings through Judea and Galilee, 
 while I endeavor to follow Christ and his little flock. 
 With the close of this meditation 1 shall dismiss a sub- 
 ject which I have pursued for more than a year, though 
 not without considerable interruption. 
 
 Near forty days were now past since the resurrec- 
 tion of Christ from the dead. He had "showed 
 himself alive after his passion by many infallible 
 proofs," and was seen repeatedly by many under divers 
 circumstances and for purposes most worthy of his 
 pursuit. All was now accomplished. The church of 
 Christ was organized, the apostles commissioned, di- 
 rections, promises and everything needful for the 
 present given. The Holy Spirit himself could not be 
 communicated till Christ was exalted and glorified. If 
 you ask why not, I shall send you with your question 
 to him who giveth no account of any of his matters; 
 though to Christians it ought to be clear that while 
 Christ himself was bodily present, that Spirit who was 
 to remind the disciples of their Lord's instructions 
 and who was to take of the things of Christ and show 
 them unto them, was not called for. Christ, then, 
 was to be exalted and glorified to send down the 
 promise of his father. With this event his earthly 
 career and our subject closes, though his activity does 
 in fact eminently begin there. 
 
 Jerusalem, and especially the mount of Olives, which 
 had seen him in his deepest humiliation, were to see 
 him also in his highest exaltation. Thence he was to 
 ascend up to heaven. It was very convenient for his 
 purpose that Pentecost was now near, one of the three 
 
THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 367 
 
 great festivals when all males were to appear at Jeru- 
 salem. The celebration of it fell upon the fiftieth day 
 after Passover, or Easter, and it needed but a hint 
 from our Lord, to induce the disciples to set out a 
 little sooner. This course was evidently in the highest 
 degree important. On the preceding great festival, 
 when thousands of people were assembled at Jerusa- 
 lem, Christ was condemned and murdered; and when 
 he rose, lies were scattered among the multitude, say- 
 ing, that he was nevertheless dead, but that his corpse 
 was stolen and carried away. On the succeeding 
 great festival, the operations of his Spirit were to be 
 seen by the same congregation of strangers, and the 
 truth was to be proclaimed to those upon whom outra- 
 geous and inconsistent falsehood had been imposed 
 not many weeks ago. This was decreed in the court 
 of heaven. But if this was to be accomplished, Christ 
 must first return to his heavenly home and his throne, 
 and, as I remarked, the mount of Olives was to be the 
 scene of the important event. 
 
 The appearance of Christ to James, his relative and 
 afterwards bishop of the churxjh at Jerusalem, took 
 place, according to Paul, (1 Corinthians xv. 7) after 
 the meeting of the five hundred brethren, but probably 
 before the last interview at Jerusalem. As no partic- 
 lars are known on that subject, we omit it. It was prob- 
 bly in reference to his future office in the church that 
 Christ had to give James some special directions, the 
 details of which were important only to him. 
 
 It appears, therefore, that the eleven disciples and 
 several other members of the young Christian church, 
 went up to Jerusalem about a fortnight before I ente- 
 
368 MEDITATIONS, 
 
 cost. At Jerusalem our Lord appeared to them at 
 least once more before his ascension, — where, in what 
 house is uncertain. It was then that he ordered them 
 to wait at Jerusalem " for the promise of the Father," 
 i. e. for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit; for they 
 were not many days hence to be merged, as it were, 
 in the powers and the light of heaven, just as John the 
 Baptist had merged, or immersed many in Jordan, 
 baptizing them unto repentance. 
 
 On the fortieth day after his resurrection, they met 
 again in some private dwelling at Jerusalem, evidently 
 by a special appointment of their Lord. Then, when 
 they were all together, he appeared, and for the last 
 time. They knew it to be the parting meeting, and 
 what question could lie nearer to their hearts at that 
 moment than the one they once more propounded to 
 him, " Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the 
 kingdom of Israel.^" Is it this that you wish us to 
 wait for at Jerusalem? is not the restoration of Israel's 
 kingdom the promise of the Father, or is it not at least 
 included in it? The expression "at this time" was 
 going rather too far, though their anxiety for the 
 coming of his kingdom was perfectly proper, and every 
 true Christian in every age shares in it. His answer 
 therefore merely is. It is not proper for you to inquire 
 into times unrevealed; your privilege is to receive the 
 Holy Spirit, your duty to proclaim the truth, and to 
 build up that kingdom whose coming you so much 
 wish, and to prepare the way for the King of glory. 
 In proper time he will come and will not tarry. He 
 then *' led them out as far as Bethany." It was again 
 early in the morning, it appears, for we do not read, 
 
THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 369 
 
 nor do we have the least intimation that the little 
 company was molested or even noticed by anybody. 
 "And he led them out as far as Bethany, and he lifted 
 up his hands and blessed them. And it came to pass 
 while he blessed them, he was parted from them.'* 
 (Mark.) And ** while they beheld, he was taken up, 
 and a cloud received him out of their sight. And 
 while they looked steadfastly toward heaven as he 
 went up, behold two men stood by them in white ap- 
 parel, which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand 
 ye gazing up into heaven.'* This same Jesus which is 
 taken up from you into heaven shall so come in like 
 manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." Acts i. 
 9 — 11. "And they worshipped him and returned 
 with great joy unto Jerusalem from the mount called 
 Olivet, which is from Jerusalem a Sabbath day's jour- 
 ney." Luke xxiv. 52, and Acts i. 12. 
 
 Here finishes the account of our Lord's days on 
 earth. My theme has at the same time reached its 
 close. 
 
 Nothing could, in my view, be more profitable now, 
 than to trace back the whole course of our meditations 
 and to get a synoptical view of the subject upon which 
 we have dwelt so long. But many of my hearers 
 were not present at the beginning, and the interval 
 is too great to promise any success in such retrospect. 
 Moreover, as I have often been obliged to tax your pa- 
 tience by protracted discourses, it may not be amiss, 
 if 1 limit myself at this time to the simple utterance of 
 my own feelings in view of the solemn ground over 
 which I have been permitted to pass successively in 
 the course of these meditations. 
 S2 
 
570 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 Christ is gone to heaven, whence, on the strength 
 of his own testimony, he came. This fact is estab- 
 lished on the evidence of eye-witness testimony, better 
 than most of the thousand events in general history, 
 which everybody believes, and which it would be ridic- 
 ulous to reject. But besides all this, it is established 
 by the evidence of prediction, i. e. Christ predicted 
 this event in connection with other events of his life, 
 and the others, some equally improbable and impene- 
 trable according to human foresight, have demonstra- 
 bly come to pass; and, therefore, if unsuspicious wit- 
 nesses state that they saw him ascend, they ought so 
 much the rather to receive credence. Yea, more; the 
 event or fact in question is predicted together with 
 other changes in the life of our Lord in books not only 
 demonstrably, but necessarily, much older than the 
 books of the New Testament, and in books the un- 
 touched, untarnished purity of whose text is acknowl- 
 edged even by those who reject their inspiration. 
 How these men account for predictions contained in 
 them, and which the ablest advocates of their cause 
 never have removed nor explained fairly on their infi- 
 del principles, is none of my business; they may see 
 to that; and their desire to throw down inspiration, 
 the golden ladder that unites earth and heaven, gives 
 me so little disturbance or concern, that I give them 
 no thanks for sitting still. Would I was rich enough 
 to give these poor men wages for their hard, ungrate- 
 ful work; for Satan, poorer still than they, can give 
 them none, and truth can only gain by their efforts, 
 and conquer, but not perish. 
 
 Christ is gone to heaven, and sits at the right hand 
 
THE ASCEXSION OF OUR LORD. 371 
 
 of the Majesty on High. This is a fact iike thousands 
 of other facts in history, only more firmly established 
 than the rest. But besides its unyielding evidences, 
 it is a fact eminently practical to every individual in 
 this world, or in this room. It is not one of those in- 
 different stories which you may believe or deny with- 
 out any consequences to yourselves. No. There is a 
 heaven-wide difference between this and common facts 
 and occurrences, though these may attract the attention 
 of all the world, while that lies neglected till the judg- 
 ment-day. 
 
 Dividing my hearers, as I always do, into convert- 
 ed and unconverted ones, I shall endeavor to allude 
 briefly to their respective relations to the exalted Sav- 
 ior of sinners, to the future Judge of all flesh. And it 
 will be quite worth your while for a few minutes to at- 
 tend to a subject to which the hour of death and the 
 judgment-day will impart an importance weightier and 
 vaster than the ocean, and in which all the frail fabrics 
 of your earthly concerns shall be shipwrecked and 
 forever perish. 
 
 There is an awful moment in the history of Israel 
 which urges itself upon our attention at this time. 
 While Israel dwelt in the wilderness, Korah, Dathan 
 and Abiram and two hundred and fifty princes among 
 the nation rebelled against Moses and Aaron. "Ye 
 take too much upon you," they said, " seeing all the 
 congregation are holy, every one of them, and the 
 Lord is among them; wherefore then lift ye up your- 
 selves above the congregation of the Lord?" In vain 
 did Moses remind them of their distinguishing privi- 
 leges in the community; in vain did be call them for 
 
372 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 brotherly consultation. They refused to come, and 
 abused and grieved him with charges equally unjust 
 and bold. Moses, conscious of his innocence and his 
 higher mission, was grieved, and said to the Lord, "Re- 
 spect not thou their offering, for I have not taken one 
 ass from them, neither have I hurt any one of them." 
 Then laying aside willingly his authority as the law- 
 giver of the nation, he descended to become a simple 
 defendant, and said to Korah, *' To-morrow the Lord 
 will show who are his and who are holy; and will 
 cause him to come near unto him (to be priest;) even 
 him whom he hath chosen will he cause to come near 
 unto him." " Be thou and all thy company before 
 the Lord, thou and they, and Aaron, to-morrow. And 
 take every man his censer, and put incense in them, 
 and bring ye before the Lord every man his censer, 
 two hundred and fifty censers; thou also and Aaron j 
 each of you his censer." This done, the glory of Je- 
 hovah appeared in the tabernacle unto all the people; 
 •* and the Lord spake unto Moses and Aaron, saying, 
 Separate yourselves from among this congregationj 
 that I may consume them in a moment." But they 
 fell upon their faces and prayed for Israel, and their 
 humble plea prevailed; for prayer is mighty with God. 
 And the Lord spake again to them, and said, " Speak 
 unto the congregation, saying, "Get up from about 
 the tabernacle of Korah, Dathan and Abiram." The 
 separation was readily made, tents round about the 
 rebels were broken up, property and families removedj 
 and a wide chasm appeared round about. Korah, Da- 
 than and Abiram, proud and hardened as every infidel 
 is against God, stood at the doors of their tents with 
 
THE A^CRNS10X OP OUR LORD. 373 
 
 their families. " And Moses said, hereby ye shall 
 know that the Lotd hath sent me to do all these works, 
 for I have not done them of my own mind. If these 
 men die the common deatii of all men, or if they be 
 visited after the visitation of all men, then the Lord 
 hath not sent me. But if the Lord make a new thing, 
 and if the earth open her mouth and swallow them up 
 with all that appertain unto them, and they go down 
 quick into the pit; then ye shall understand that these 
 men have provoked the Lord." Nothing could have 
 surpassed the solemnity of such an appeal directly to 
 God, — an appeal which, whatsoever was to be the 
 event, was necessarily big with important and irre- 
 trievable consequences. Mo.ses, the man of God, the 
 mediator between Jehovah and Israel and their sa- 
 viour from reproach and bondage and idolatry — the 
 man who was in all his offices a type of Christ, — he 
 had given for years the most unquestionable proof of 
 his higher mission, and every candid Israelite was 
 convinced and clave to him. But Korah, Dathan and 
 Abiram and their company, whose hearts were wrong 
 and full of ambition, resisted successfully the evidence 
 of Moses's mission. It was absolutely impossible to 
 give them more and better proofs than they already 
 had resisted and rejected, and what could Moses do 
 more or less rather than to appeal to God himself, and 
 commit the decision to him in the sight of all Israel. 
 The appeal is made; Korah, Dathan and Abiram are 
 standing in their doors, unmoved, and all the people 
 at a distance look on with awful interest. A few mo- 
 ments of interval, a sullen, breathless silence, such as 
 precedes the dreaded shock of the earthquake, when 
 32* 
 
374 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 no wind dares to breathe and creatures stand, in 
 breathless expectation, Korah, Dathan and Abiram's 
 fates are pending, and the last seconds of repentance 
 rolling by, — the last one conies, arrives, passes un- 
 redeemed — a shock, a shriek of terror, and they are 
 gone, and Israel flees aflrighted from the smoking pit, 
 saying, "Lest the earth swallow us up also. And 
 there came out a fire from the Lord and consumed the 
 two hundred and fifty men that offered incense." 
 
 But if "he that despised Moses's law died without 
 mercy under two or three witnesses, of how much 
 sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be worthy who 
 hath trodden under foot the Son of God, and hath 
 counted the blood of the covenant wherewith he was 
 sanctified an unholy thing, and hath done despite unto 
 the Spirit of grace?" 
 
 In the fullness of time Christ came in the flesh ac- 
 cording to numerous and unquestionable predictions. 
 God bore testimony to his divine mission by the true 
 word of prophecy and audibly in the hearing of friends 
 and foes; and he himself, whom his adversaries could 
 not and cannot accuse of one sin, bore witness of 
 himself and sealed his conviction with his own blood; 
 and his numerous friends, men of sound mind and up- 
 right character, gave him record to their own temporal 
 harm, and persevered in their testimony unto death ; 
 and his still more numerous enemies sealed the whole 
 mass of evidence by their infernal conduct, which 
 showed on what side they were, and by their ridiculous 
 and contradictory lies, than which they had nothing 
 b( tter to defend their perishing cause withal. Christ 
 rose from the dead and took his place on the throne of 
 
THE ASCENSION OP OUR LORD. 375 
 
 the universe. The word of God has been attacked by 
 every weapon of learning, wit, and fraud ; and the 
 church of Christ, by civil power and brute force often, 
 and always by the haughty contempt of those who pro- 
 fessedly never experienced anything of her heavenly 
 peace and joy. But both stand unmoved. Stand ? 
 No. They extend, they spread, they pierce unknown 
 regions ; they enlighten and redeem men's souls, in 
 spite of the world, and Satan and all his host ; 
 and they are living witnesses that Christ liveth and 
 reigneth. 
 
 Here let the sceptic say whether more evidence than 
 this could, according to the laws of mind, have been 
 given. But yet, he believes not. Why not? Because 
 he will not believe. He is like Korah, Dathan and Abi- 
 ram standing coldly, and smiling in the door of his tent. 
 Not Moses, but Christ has made the last deciding ap- 
 peal, and that to the judgment-day. The sceptic wants 
 more evidence — more evidence. The authentic his- 
 tory of the life, the death, the resurrection, and the 
 ascension of Christ are nothing unto him ; the unac- 
 countable existence and continuance of his truth is 
 nothing. But Christ will sit unmoved on his throne, 
 till the great day of reckoning draws nigh. The scep- 
 tic will have no more evidence nor proof till the sign 
 of the Son of Man appear in heaven, and all the tribes 
 of the earth mourn and weep. "An evil and adulter- 
 ous generation seeketh after a sign, and there shall no 
 sign be given unto it but the sign of the prophet Jonas. 
 For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the 
 whale's belly, so shall the Son of Man be three days 
 and three nights in the heart of the earth. The men 
 
576 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 of Nineveh shall rise up in judgment with this genera- 
 tion and shall condemn it, because they repented at 
 the preaching of Jonas, — and behold, a greater than 
 Jonas is here. The queen of the south shall rise up in 
 the judgment with this generation, and shall condemn 
 it; for she came from the uttermost parts of the earth 
 to hear the wisdom of Solomon, — and behold, a great- 
 er than Solomon is here." Korah, Dathan and Abiram 
 shall rise up in judgment with the generation of our 
 sceptics and worldlings, and condemn it ; because 
 they resisted only the mission of Moses, — and behold, 
 a greater than Moses is here ! During the few sec- 
 onds of their fleeting lives, their case is pending, and 
 the acts of heaven are kept open. There is silence in 
 heaven for every sinner, by the space of half an hour, 
 and the sun lingers and lingers on the horizon. But 
 there is a time when saving mercy retires weeping, 
 and when justice recovers its claims; when God arises 
 and swears, in his wrath, that they shall not enter into 
 his rest ; and then the ground cleaves, and they per- 
 ish without remedy. Death and the grave come, and 
 they descend quickly into the pit, and come no more 
 till the trumpet of the resurrection pierce their graves. 
 But then — then they will appear, though they hide 
 themselves in the centre of the earth. O what a sight 
 will it then be, to the muhitudes of unbelieving kings, 
 statesmen, philosophers, and scholars, rich and mighty 
 men, standing speechless, confounded and condemned 
 before the judgment-seat of Christ, whom they used to 
 considoT a phantom, and infinitely below them. Then, 
 too, they will no more say to us, as they do now, — 
 *'Ye take too much upon you, ye preachers of the 
 
THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 377 
 
 gospel, to condemn so many honorable, well-bred peo- 
 ple; seeing all the congregation are holy, and the Lord 
 is among them : wherefore, then, lift ye up yourselves 
 above the congregation of the Lord — and think your- 
 selves justified in preaching needless terror ?" This 
 they say now ; but we have the consolation not to 
 have taken anything from them, nor to have hurt one 
 of them. But then they will see that we are the men 
 who, at the expense of their own comfort and popu- 
 larity, threw themselves between them and ruin. Too 
 late they will acknowledge that the faithful, home- 
 spoken sermon was a token of regard and affection 
 worth all the idle phraseologies of a deceitful world. 
 
 This, then, is your situation, — mark it well. Christ 
 sits at the right hand of God. The mass of the evi- 
 dence of his divine mission and the terms of salvation 
 and the comminations of perdition encompass you as 
 the ambient air which you cannot escape : you are 
 standing there in the door of your tabernacle, and not 
 Israel ; but heaven looks on your daring with amaze- 
 ment and sorrow. Your case is awfully pending ; the 
 moments of mercy are gliding away, and the day, the 
 moment of decision draws nigh and will soon be pres- 
 ent, and soon past, to be recalled no more. O that 
 you were wise to consider your latter end and make 
 the Judge your friend. 
 
 But this situation need not be yours. Come over 
 to the people of God. Kiss the Son before he be 
 angry, and ye shall not perish in the way. Come out 
 of Egypt and settle in some corner of Goshen, and 
 your change will be as it were from midnight into 
 noon. For there, where the people of God dwell, 
 
378 MEDITATIONS. 
 
 there subsists a relation to the exalted Saviour which 
 could not be more delightful. 
 
 Though ascended up to heaven, he is with them al- 
 way, even unto the end of the world. What I now 
 say, is neither delusion nor poetry ; but reality, more 
 sober, more real than this visible world ; for it has the 
 evidenoe, not of material, but, of spiritual experience. 
 The glorified Saviour is with his people. He dwells 
 in their dwellings, as at Bethany ; he meets them in 
 the closet; he guides their family devotion; he blesses 
 and breaks their bread at table ; he prospers them in 
 their work ; and blesses them as they go out and as 
 they come in. In prosperity he tunes their hearts and 
 voices for the sacred song of praise ; and in affliction 
 gives them the spirit of prayer and the hope of heaven. 
 He is husband to the widow, father to the fatherless, 
 the all-sufficient companion of the solitary, a physician 
 to the sick, a guide to the pilgrim. He is the spiritual 
 rock from which they drink and live forever; the man- 
 na that came down from heaven ; his people eat, and 
 the second death has lost its power. Kverywhere and 
 always his particular providence is over them, in the 
 shady cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, till 
 they are in the promised land. He is their high-priest, 
 and their names are written upon his breast; and from 
 his countenance beams the unfadincj Urim and Thuin- 
 min by which they steer their course to heaven. They 
 are not set adrift, like the world, and at the mercy of 
 every wind, and drawing near to the all-devouring 
 maelstrom of the pit ; but their coiirse is to the port of 
 endless rest, and Christ is at the helm. Until he per- 
 ish, thev are safe. Taught by Christ, who is their 
 
THE ASCENSION OP OUR LORD. 379 
 
 teacher, their views of earth and heaven, of social, 
 political, intellectual, moral, and religious subjects are 
 spiritualized, refined, and sanctified ; and their better 
 existence in union with Christ has begun. Their sor- 
 rows are sweet and their joys profitable ; all is sea- 
 soned with heavenly spices and the hope of eternal 
 life; the dawninor of this eternal morninor borders the 
 interesting landscape of their pilgrimage, and the end 
 of their faith is the grand promise to inherit all things, 
 and to reiijn with Christ forever. 
 
 Shout, little flock, with the voice of triumph ! Fear 
 not ! Thy God reigneth. Lift up your heads, for 
 your redemption draweth nigh. Weep not too much 
 that your beloved is despised and rejected of men. He 
 is above the sneers of worms ; and his omnipotent 
 voice will ere long hush into eternal silence the evil 
 and the wisdom of this world. " Yet a little while and 
 he that shall come will come, and will not tarry." "As 
 the lightning cometh out of the east, and shineth even 
 unto the west, so shall (also) the coming of theS^m of 
 Man he." He will come in the glory of his Father ; 
 his train shall fill the heavens ; and the earth shall be 
 full of his praise. Judgment will be held, — his eter- 
 nal kingdom will commence in the sight of all the uni- 
 verse ; your desire and longing for his honor will be 
 satisfied perfectly ; and not a mind, in heaven, earth, 
 or hell, shall doubt that Jesus reigns. In the all-re- 
 vealing light of the judgment-day, every knee will bow 
 to him and every tongue confess him Lord, whether it 
 be willingly or unwillingly, whether with the shout of 
 sacred joy and praise, or with the gnashing of fruitless 
 despair. Grand, grand beyond human and angelic 
 
380 MEDITi.TIONS. 
 
 conception, will be the scene, when the proclamation 
 of his eternal royalty shall make the arch of heaven 
 ring, then resound to earth, and roll through the cav- 
 erns of the world of wo. At the judgment-day, which 
 is drawing nigh apace, all will and must acknowledge 
 him ; and at the great moment of eternal parting, the 
 unnumbered multitudes of the redeemed at the right 
 hand of the Judge, and the lost, condemned rebels on 
 his left, more numerous than the sands on the sea- 
 shore, will join in one thundering chorus, sayinj^r^ Jesus 
 reigneth ! — almighty to save, or to ruin ! His name 
 endureth forever ! — and all the universe will answer, 
 amen ! 
 
DATE DUE 
 
 HIGHSMITH #45220 
 
BS2425.S31 ^ ^^^.^ 
 
 Meditations on the last days of Christ, 
 
 Princeton Theological Semmary-Speer Library 
 
 1 1012 00013 3043