ersity of California. 
 
 *s 
 

COMMUNION THOUGHTS. 
 
 BY 
 
 S. G. BULFINCH, 
 
 AUTHOR OP "LAYS OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 " O thou true Eastern Star ! 
 Saviour ! atoning Lord ! where er we roam, 
 Draw still our hearts to thee, else, else how vain 
 Ffcekjiope, the fair lost birthright to regain ! " 
 
 MRS. HEMANS. 
 
 THJKD EDITION 
 
 OIEf 
 
 *\V^ 
 
 BOSTON: 
 WALKER, WISE, & CO., 
 
 245 WASHINGTON STREET. 
 1860. 
 
 
 m 
 
UN 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by 
 
 WM. CROSBY AND H. P. NICHOLS, 
 
 in the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the District of Massa 
 chusetts. 
 
-H 
 
 OP -THE 
 
 . IVEESITYH 
 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THERE are many in our congregations, 
 who are withheld from participating in the 
 communion, by causes which a fair con 
 sideration of the subject would be likely to 
 remove. There are others, probably, who 
 unite in the ordinance from a sense of duty, 
 but to whom it is not as interesting and 
 improving as it ought to be, through the 
 difficulty of directing the current of the 
 thoughts, and developing the religious feel 
 ings. This little volume is an attempt to 
 meet, in some humble degree, the spiritual 
 wants of these two classes. It is composed 
 of materials, in part written for the purpose, 
 and in part prepared for the pulpit in the 
 course of the author s ministry. A few 
 pieces in verse are inserted, none of which 
 have before been published. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Value of Outward Forms . . . . .3 
 
 The Pledge of Christian Duty .... 7 
 
 Who is on the Lord s Side ? . . ... .10 
 
 Institution and Meaning of the Communion . . 15 
 
 Historical Importance of the Communion . . .22 
 
 For whom is the Communion intended ? 29 
 
 Reasons for attending the Communion . . .35 
 
 Lord ! I am not worthy 47 
 
 What is that to thee ? Follow thou me . .53 
 
 Is it my Duty to partake of the Communion ? . 59 
 
 PART II. 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 Christ the Image of God 69 
 
 Christ our Brother 76 
 
 Christ our Example 87 
 
23 
 
 Vi CONTENTS. 
 
 Christ s Anticipations . , . . . . 98 
 Christ in Gethsemane . . . . .108 
 
 The Arrest, Trial, and Crucifixion . . . 113 
 
 PART III. 
 
 THE COMMUNICANT. 
 
 Self-Examination 123 
 
 Prayer after Self-Examination . . . . 128 
 Prayer before Communion . . . .130 
 Prayer before Communion, in Prosperity . . 132 
 Prayer before Communion, in Adversity . . . 134 
 Prayer before Communion, when privately admin 
 istered in Sickness . .... 136 
 Passages of Scripture ...... 138 
 
 PART IV. 
 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK. 
 
 Bearing the Cross . . . . . 145 
 
 Instrumental and Active Duties ,. . . . 157 
 
 PART V. 
 
 MEDITATIONS IN VERSE. 
 
 " Beuold the Man ! " 179 
 
 Jesus before Pilate . . . .... .182 
 
 The Crown of Thorns 184 
 
 " My God ! my God ! Why hast thou forsaken me ? " 1 86 
 
 The Mourners . 188 
 
 Mary and John, before the Resurrection . . .190 
 
CONTENTS. Vii 
 
 Zeal and Love .... . 193 
 
 The Penitent Thief . .... 195 
 
 Praying in the Name of Christ 197 
 
 Invitation 199 
 
 The Communion of Saints 201 
 
 Praise ... .203 
 
PART I. 
 THE LORD S SUPPER 
 
THE LORD S SUPPER 
 
 VALUE OF OUTWARD FORMS. 
 
 THERE exists, in the present age, an increasing 
 indifference to outward forms in religion. Men 
 have so long groaned under the bondage of ob 
 servances, that a reaction has taken place. Be 
 coming aware of the fact, that mere forms are not 
 truth and right, men have begun to show a dispo 
 sition to reject them altogether ; and numbers, 
 viewing the Christian ordinances as mere forms, 
 have so far undervalued them, as entirely to neg 
 lect participation in their important advantages. 
 
 A well-judging mind, however, will look with 
 some degree of suspicion upon any thing so tran 
 sient and uncertain as the spirit of the age. We 
 must not suffer ourselves to be hurried along by 
 the influence of the opinions which happen for the 
 
time to be prevalent. We have the Scriptures be 
 fore us, we have reason within us. Relying on 
 these, and on the Divine blessing, let us decide 
 whether we shall do well to discard or to neglect 
 institutions which are hallowed, not only by the ob 
 servance of eighteen centuries, but by the original 
 appointment of our Saviour, and by the exercise 
 of a most blessed and useful influence over those 
 who engage in them aright. 
 
 Man is an intellectual, a spiritual being. But 
 this spiritual being is also corporeal ; this intellect 
 ual being can receive impressions from an earthly 
 source, only through the medium of the outward 
 senses. Whatever is to be addressed to man, with 
 the design to affect his conduct and character, 
 must be adapted to both portions of his compound 
 nature. It must be suited to influence his thoughts 
 and feelings, but it cannot reach these except 
 through the avenues of sight and hearing ; to 
 these faculties, also, it must be adapted. Relig 
 ion, though in itself a spiritual thing, cannot dis 
 pense with external means for its communication 
 and development. Among these external means 
 various services and ceremonies have from time to 
 time been employed. One of them was sacrifice, 
 so generally practised throughout the world in an 
 cient times. Another was fasting, an outward ex- 
 
VALUE OF OUTWARD FORMS. 
 
 pression of sorrow, designed to promote the feel 
 ing of self-condemnation from which that sorrow 
 resulted. We may find another in that solemn 
 music, which is employed among ourselves, as it 
 has been for ages, to assist the devotional tenden 
 cy of the mind. Nor are these the only external 
 services. Preaching is external ; however it may 
 be addressed to the intellect or the heart, it can 
 reach these only through an outward sense. Pray 
 er is external, all prayer that is uttered in words. 
 Nay, even that which, without utterance, assumes 
 the form of words within the mind, partakes of the 
 outward and of the ceremonial. The Society of 
 Friends, carefully as they have endeavoured to 
 avoid formalism, have not been able to dispense 
 with forms. The assembling together is an out 
 ward form ; the signal for separation is given 
 by a simple but expressive form ; and the solemn 
 stillness of the assembly while engaged in worship 
 is valued for precisely the same reason for which 
 the Catholic values the rich music that accompa 
 nies and aids his aspirations. 
 
 Must we, then, on the ground that religion ought 
 to be spiritual, give up at once all that is external, 
 and, classing together the ancient sacrifice, the 
 modern liturgy, and public and private prayers, of 
 whatever kind, resolve to be religious only in the 
 
THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 secret feelings of the heart ? Thus doing, we 
 should act inconsistently with our nature, for we 
 should forget its compound character. We are 
 not exclusively spiritual beings. In us, dwelling 
 in these material tabernacles, the secret feelings 
 of the heart need prompting and encouragement 
 by something external to themselves. We have, 
 then, only one course left, worthy of our adoption. 
 That course is, to make use of outward means, 
 not as though religion consisted in them, but that 
 we may become more successful in the attainment 
 of our ultimate object, the true religious char 
 acter. 
 
THE PLEDGE OF CHRISTIAN DUTY. 
 
 WE have witnessed, of late years, a surprising 
 movement in the community on a subject of moral 
 reform. The progress of intemperance, which 
 had produced the most fearful ravages in our own 
 and in other lands, has been arrested. Thousands 
 have been rescued, who, but for this movement, 
 would have gone down to a dishonored grave. 
 The means for the accomplishment of this great 
 good was simple. It was a pledge, a bond of 
 union. It was the practical adoption of the idea, 
 that those who had firmness enough for the pur 
 pose should come out and profess themselves 
 friends of temperance, friends of temperance 
 in opinion, and resolved to be friends of temper 
 ance in practice. What that pledge was to this 
 branch of moral reform, is the communion of the 
 Lord s Supper to Christianity. It is the pledge of 
 belief and of obedience. It is the outward sign by 
 
8 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 which the individual declares that he has taken 
 his side in the struggle between good and evil in 
 the world ; that he has chosen his place, humbly, 
 indeed, but with calm faith and hope, at the feet 
 of his Redeemer, and in the company of that 
 . Redeemer s followers. 
 
 If, then, we have seen and who has not ? 
 the effect produced for the amelioration of char 
 acter by the adoption of the pledge of temper 
 ance, may we not expect results corresponding 
 in importance from the voluntary assumption of 
 that which is the pledge of abstinence from all 
 evil ? He who meets his fellow-Christians at the 
 table of the Lord has, indeed, contracted no new 
 obligations ; but he has avowed those which al 
 ready existed, and has thus strengthened their in 
 fluence over him. That which was innocent for 
 him previously, is innocent still ; but lie now 
 feels that more is dependent on the correctness 
 of his conduct than before. He is surrounded 
 with a cloud of witnesses. The community at 
 large, his brethren in the fellowship of Christ, his 
 own aspirations of piety and resolutions of virtue, 
 all warn him against remissness, and exhort him to 
 perseverance. Let it not be said that the respon- 
 sibleness is too heavy to be assumed. We scruple 
 not, when called by circumstances to any station 
 
THE PLEDGE OF CHRISTIAN DUTY. 
 
 which we are competent to fill, to pledge ourselves 
 to the due performance of its duties. We intend 
 to be faithful, and it occurs not to us that any dan 
 ger is incurred by professing that intention. Why, 
 then, if we intend to be faithful to God, and Christ, 
 and our own souls, should we scruple to avow that 
 intention by what our religion has made its appro 
 priate pledge ? Why should we anticipate a de 
 sertion of duty which is far from our purpose, and 
 against which the very profession we are called to 
 make will aid in securing us ? 
 
-s 
 
 WHO IS ON THE LOKD S SIDE ? 
 
 WE learn, from the account in the book of Ex 
 odus, that while the lawgiver of the Israelites was 
 on the height of Sinai, holding sublime intercourse 
 with the Almighty, the people, weary with the long 
 tarrying of their leader, were urged by their im 
 patience into crime. In imitation of the idolatry of 
 their Egyptian masters, they made a calf of gold, 
 and consecrated it as an emblem of Jehovah. 
 They evidently had no thought of relinquishing 
 the service of the Being who had brought them 
 out of the land of Egypt, yet their worship of him, 
 by means of this unworthy image, was in direct 
 violation of the command he had given them, and 
 was justly regarded as an act of treason and idol 
 atry. They proclaimed a feast unto the Lord, 
 and, assembling around the idol which their hands 
 had made, they " sat down to eat and to drink, and 
 rose up to play." In the midst of their presump- 
 
WHO IS ON THE LORD S SIDE? 11 
 
 tuous worship and indecorous mirth, Moses ap 
 peared, accompanied only by his attendant, Josh 
 ua, but in the strength of indomitable courage, of 
 a holy purpose, and of conscious intercourse with 
 God. Dashing from his hands, in the excitement 
 of the moment, the sacred tables of the law which 
 he bore, he commanded the instant destruction of 
 the idol. But this was not enough. Far and wide 
 around, he saw the people scattered in shameful 
 revelry, exposed without defence to the sudden 
 incursion of any enemy, and yet evidently dis 
 posed to resist his authority. " Who is on the 
 Lord s side ? " he exclaimed ; " let him come unto 
 me." Among the twelve tribes, only his own, 
 that of Levi, gathered at the summons. He sent 
 them forth, with a severity which the extent of the 
 defection rendered necessary, to punish those who 
 persevered in their idolatry ; but only by the death 
 of three thousand of the rebels were the people 
 reduced to penitence and submission. 
 
 " Who is on the Lord s side ? " That dread 
 summons, which then rang through the disordered 
 camp of Israel, is yet sounded forth. Who is on 
 the Lord s side in the great strife between good 
 and evil, between religion and irreligion, between 
 virtue and vice ? There is a cause of God in the 
 world now, as there was in the days of Moses. 
 
12 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 As then the Almighty was, by the ministry of his 
 prophet, leading his chosen people to the land of 
 promise, and preparing them, by instruction and 
 discipline, to receive and transmit to future ages 
 his holy truth, so now is he, by the Gospel of his 
 Son, Jesus Christ, leading the human race from the 
 worse than Egyptian bondage of ignorance and 
 vice, to the promised land of virtue, wisdom, and 
 happiness, making ready for himself a peculiar 
 people, zealous of good works. Wherever there 
 is a question for moral judgment, wherever there 
 is a right and wrong, wherever any thing can be 
 done for the good of a fellow-being, or any thing 
 avoided by which a fellow-being may be injured, 
 wherever faith encourages, or conscience warns, 
 or temptation assails us, there is the cause of God 
 at issue, there is the demand addressed to us, 
 " Who is on the Lord s side ? " We are engaged 
 in a warfare. Happier, indeed, than those of the 
 tribe of Levi, who gathered at the call of Moses, 
 the weapons of our warfare are not carnal ; we 
 wrestle not with flesh and blood ; nor are we 
 called to maintain the cause of God, as those in 
 a ruder age, and under a less perfect dispensa 
 tion, by deeds of sanguinary justice. No ; our 
 great ministry is love. Our leader is he who 
 went about doing good, and our task, to follow 
 
WHO IS ON THE LORD S SIDE ? 13 
 
 his example. With us, as Christians, the service 
 of God and the service of our race are one and 
 the same ; and he who is on the side of human 
 rights and human happiness is on the Lord s 
 side. 
 
 Are you on the Lord s side ? Have you pledged 
 yourself to his service ? Are you doing all you 
 can in his cause ? When the Israelites heard 
 from the lips of Moses that stern demand, they 
 knew that the duty required of them was not si 
 lence, not neutrality, but a prompt acknowledg 
 ment of their allegiance to the Almighty, and a 
 faithful performance of that which he, through 
 his prophet, might command them. The sum 
 mons was in the name, and by the authority, of 
 their God. It was made by his chosen prophet, 
 and in his holy cause. It was for them to choose 
 between obedience and rebellion. How stands 
 the case with us ? Not Moses, but Christ, calls 
 us to the service of the Lord ; and that service is 
 not one of vengeance, but of love. Yet is the 
 call less imperative ? Is it less our duty to be 
 faithful Christians than it was that of the people 
 in the days of Moses to be faithful Israelites ? 
 How, then, if they were guilty who refused to 
 make profession of their faith at the voice of Mo 
 ses, shall they be held guiltless who refuse the 
 
14 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 profession of their faith in Christ ? It is by be 
 coming members of the Christian Church that we 
 take our stand, in the sight of God and man, on 
 the side of Christian truth and Christian virtue, on 
 the side of man s improvement and of God s 
 commands. 
 
n- 
 
 INSTITUTION AND MEANING OF THE 
 COMMUNION. 
 
 THE ordinance of the Lord s Supper derives its 
 explanation from the circumstances under which 
 it was instituted. Our Saviour, the night before 
 he was crucified, was partaking with his disciples 
 of the Passover, the feast appointed in commem 
 oration of the great deliverance of the chosen 
 people from the Egyptians. He availed himself 
 of the occasion, and a more suitable one could 
 not have been chosen, to institute another feast, 
 commemorative of a greater deliverance. He 
 took a portion of the bread which was before him, 
 and, breaking it, compared it to his body, which 
 was the next day to be broken on the cross. He 
 then shared it among his disciples. He took a 
 portion of the wine before him, and, pouring it 
 forth, told his followers that thus his blood was to 
 be poured forth. He passed the cup also around 
 
16 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 among them, and directed them to continue the 
 custom in memory of him. 
 
 Such seems to be the plain account of the Chris 
 tian communion. The bread and the wine are 
 simply emblems of the Saviour s body and blood ; 
 and our participation in them is intended to re 
 mind us of what our Lord endured for our sake. 
 Many Christians believe that there is a mysterious 
 meaning, beyond this, implied in the words of 
 Jesus, " This is my body," and " This is my 
 blood." But nothing was more common with 
 our Saviour than to employ figurative language. 
 When he said, " I am the vine," " I am the door 
 of the sheep," we readily understand that he 
 only meant to compare himself to those objects ; 
 and it appears to us equally clear, that, when 
 he said of the wine before him, " This is my 
 blood," nothing more than a simple comparison 
 was intended. 
 
 We are told respecting the three thousand who 
 were converted on the day of Pentecost, soon af 
 ter our Saviour s ascension, that " they continued 
 steadfastly in the Apostles doctrine and fellowship, 
 and in breaking of bread, and in prayers." We 
 are further told, that they continued " daily with 
 one accord in the temple, and breaking bread 
 from house to house." Acts ii. 42, 46. It 
 
INSTITUTION AND MEANING. 17 
 
 seems from this, that, in the very earliest days of 
 the Christian Church, whenever a number of the 
 believers met together, they were accustomed to 
 partake of bread and wine in memory of their 
 Master. But if such was the custom, it was soon 
 subjected to limitations. The first day of the 
 week, the day hallowed by the resurrection and 
 ascension of the Saviour, became the regular sea 
 son for the religious meetings of his disciples ; 
 and it appears that on that day they were accus 
 tomed to assemble for the especial purpose of 
 commemorating their Master in this ordinance. 
 This we may collect from the passage in Acts 
 xx. 7, " And upon the first day of the week, 
 when the disciples came together to break bread, 
 Paul preached unto them." 
 
 We may reasonably suppose that, in the early 
 churches generally, the religious design of this 
 ordinance was kept in view, and the observance 
 of it conducted in a reverential manner. In the 
 luxurious city of Corinth, however, some abuses 
 crept in, which drew from the Apostle Paul a se 
 vere rebuke. 
 
 Corinth was noted for wealth and dissoluteness ; 
 and it is evident from the tenor of St. Paul s first 
 epistle to the church in that place, that the infec 
 tion of the manners prevalent around them had 
 
18 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 found its way among the Christian community. 
 The Corinthian disciples, when they came togeth 
 er on the Lord s day, were accustomed, like other 
 Christians, to bring with them bread and wine for 
 the rite commemorative of the Saviour. After 
 the Apostle had left their city, the love of show 
 and of indulgence prompted them, it appears, to 
 contribute in this manner far more than was de 
 sirable for the emblematic purpose of the rite in 
 which they were to engage. The simple feast of 
 love was changed into a banquet. Probably the 
 corruption was gradual ; and for some time the fes 
 tival, though too luxurious for propriety, was shared 
 equally by all, and with reference in the minds of 
 all to the circumstances under which it was insti 
 tuted. But at length those circumstances seem to 
 have been forgotten ; the wealthy, who contrib 
 uted largely to the banquet, rendered it in some 
 instances an occasion of indecorous excess, while 
 the poor were excluded from the table which they 
 had not the means to assist in furnishing. This 
 account of the celebration of the communion in a 
 Christian church in the days of the Apostles may 
 w r ell surprise us ; but it is too well attested to be 
 called in question. The abuse, with others which 
 existed in the same community, attracted the no 
 tice of St. Paul. He wrote to them in the follow- 
 
INSTITUTION AND MEANING. 19 
 
 ing words : " Now in this that I declare unto 
 you, I praise you not, that ye come together, not 
 for the better, but for the worse " ; that your 
 religious meetings are not suited for your improve 
 ment, but for your corruption. " When ye come 
 together therefore into one place, this is not to 
 eat the Lord s Supper " ; this is not the proper 
 way of observing such an ordinance. " For in 
 eating, every one taketh before other his own sup 
 per : and one is hungry, and another is drunken. 
 What ! have ye not houses to eat and to drink in ? 
 or despise ye the church of God, and shame them 
 that have not ? What shall I say to you ? Shall 
 I praise you in this ? I praise you not." He 
 then reminds them of the meaning of the ordi 
 nance, of which it seems they had so generally 
 lost sight. He adds : " For as often as ye eat 
 this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the 
 Lord s death till he come. Wherefore, whoso 
 ever shall eat this bread, and drink this cup of the 
 Lord, unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and 
 blood of the Lord. But let a man examine him 
 self, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of 
 that cup. For he that eateth and drinketh unwor 
 thily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, 
 not discerning the Lord s body." " Wherefore, 
 my brethren, when ye come together to eat, tarry 
 
20 
 
 one for another. And if any man hunger, let him 
 eat at home ; that ye come not together unto con 
 demnation." 1 Cor. xi. 17 - 34. 
 
 The language of the Apostle explains itself. 
 The strong terms in which he speaks of eating 
 and drinking unworthily, have probably deterred 
 many from joining in the communion, who should 
 have felt that it was both their duty and their right. 
 But on examination, we perceive that St. Paul re 
 ferred with disapprobation, not to the conduct of 
 any who reverently, and with a desire to honor 
 their Master, comply with his command, but to 
 an abuse which has not perhaps existed in the 
 Church from the days of the Corinthians to the 
 present time ; a total perversion of the ordinance, 
 in forgetfulness of its meaning, to the purpose of 
 mere sensual indulgence. This the Apostle rightly 
 called " not discerning the Lord s body," not 
 distinguishing between the emblems of the Lord s 
 body and the food used in common banquets ; and 
 this was surely partaking unworthily. That this 
 crime might be avoided, he bade the Corinthians 
 to examine themselves, that they might know with 
 what views and feelings they approached the ta 
 ble of the Lord. 
 
 This passage, therefore, does not exclude from 
 Christian communion any one who reverences the 
 
INSTITUTION AND MEANING. 21 
 
 Saviour, and understands that the Supper is admin 
 istered in commemoration of him. The Apostle, 
 however, in the same letter, gives directions to the 
 Corinthian church to suspend from their fellow 
 ship a man who had committed a flagrant offence. 
 1 Cor. v. The order was obeyed, and the indi 
 vidual repented. The second epistle requests the 
 church to forgive, and again receive the penitent 
 among them. 2 Cor. ii. 5 - 10. 
 
mSTORICAL IMPORTANCE OF THE 
 COMMUNION. 
 
 THE Lord s Supper is an historical memorial of 
 important transactions, a perpetual witness to 
 the truth of the Christian religion. That we may 
 judge of its value in this respect, we must take a 
 brief view of the nature of such memorials. 
 
 Monuments and commemorations of past events 
 have been in use among almost every people. 
 These have mostly taken the form either of some 
 remarkable structure, as a heap of stones, an al 
 tar, or a column ; or of some national observance, 
 as a feast, or a pilgrimage. 
 
 The monumental structure bears witness through 
 succeeding ages to the occasion on which it was 
 oiveted, even if no inscription be engraved upon 
 it ; because they who witnessed its erection hand 
 down the memory of that event, and the transac 
 tions connected with it, to their children, and they 
 
g 
 
 HISTORICAL IMPORTANCE. J. > 
 
 to theirs, and these to still following generations. 
 True, the traditional account may by time be 
 blended with error; but this is most likely to be 
 the case in monuments of merely local interest. 
 If we find substantially the same account given 
 of any monument, the work of human hands, by 
 the widely scattered descendants of those who wit 
 nessed its erection, we have strong reason to be- 
 lie\e that, this account is true. 
 
 A heap of stones, an altar, or a pillar, may 
 crumble to decay. But the record engraven on 
 the customs of a people cannot be destroy -d, ex 
 cept by the destruction of the nation itself. As 
 an instance of such a record, we may select our 
 own observance of our national anniversary. Let 
 it be supposed that our nation should relapse into 
 the deepest barbarism, arts, letters, sciences, 
 being extinguished, but our observance of the na 
 tional anniversary still continuing. In that case, 
 a thousand years hence, that anniversary would 
 still furnish the information of our revolutionary 
 struggle. The people would always necessarily 
 connect with it the tradition of the Declaration of 
 Independence, and of the war during which it was 
 made. If at any time an attempt should be made 
 to trace the observance of the Fourth of July to 
 some other origin, the people would answer, igno- 
 
24 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 rant as they might be in other respects, " The 
 account you give of our national feast is new to 
 us ; it cannot, therefore, be true. The account 
 we give is that which has been handed down alike 
 in all parts of our country, and has, therefore, 
 evidently been the same through all ages since its 
 origin. It therefore must be true." 
 
 We return now to the ordinance of the Lord s 
 Supper. The whole Christian world unite in re 
 ceiving that ordinance as an institution of the 
 Saviour, in which he distinctly foretold his own 
 approaching death. In thousands of churches, 
 throughout the world, among Oriental Christians, 
 Catholics, and Protestants, the bread and wine are 
 distributed, and accompanied with the words, 
 " This is my body," " This is my blood," and 
 " This do in remembrance of me." Ask the 
 Christian of America, of Russia, or of Spain, to 
 say by whom this rite was established ; and each 
 will answer, By Jesus Christ. Nor does he gain 
 his knowledge of this fact from books. It is from 
 tradition. We all see the rite administered, or the 
 preparations made for it in our churches, and re 
 ceive a general idea of its purpose and origin be 
 fore we are old enough to read intelligently the 
 accounts in the Gospels. The ordinance has al 
 ways been thus administered. This is the account 
 
HISTORICAL IMPORTANCE. 25 
 
 which we all have received from our fathers, and 
 they from theirs ; and it must, therefore, be true. 
 
 Could we, if we had never before heard of the 
 Lord s Supper, or seen it administered, be induced 
 by any assurances to believe that we had known 
 and participated in such an ordinance, and had 
 been familiar with it from our childhood ? And 
 is it more probable that our ancestors, two or ten 
 generations since, were thus deceived ? that they 
 could be made to believe that an altar which was 
 raised in their very sight was a time-honored me 
 morial-altar which they had known from infancy ? 
 At what time was this mighty fraud effected ? 
 History answers not. There is no trace in her 
 records of any period, since the time of Christ, 
 when an attempt was made to introduce, or to re 
 vive, the observance of the Supper. . That observ 
 ance, therefore, we conclude, has been held con 
 tinually in the Christian Church, from the days of 
 its Divine founder. 
 
 But could such an institution have been fraud 
 ulently introduced at a period soon after the death 
 of the Saviour ? Could the Christian community, 
 ten or twenty years after that event, have been 
 persuaded that their Master in a solemn manner 
 instituted this rite, if they had never heard of it 
 before ? Or, to go back the single step that re- 
 
26 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 mains, could one of the Apostles have persuaded 
 the rest that their Master had, in the presence of 
 them all, established such an ordinance, when 
 they had no remembrance of such a scene ? If 
 not, the conclusion irresistibly follows, that the 
 communion was instituted by Jesus of Nazareth 
 the night before his death. 
 
 Let us now approach and read the inscription 
 on this venerable altar ; in other words, let us 
 notice the language in which the Saviour estab 
 lished this ordinance. " Take, eat ; this is my 
 body, which is broken for you : this do in remem 
 brance of me." " This cup is the new testament 
 [or covenant] in my blood : this do ye, as oft as 
 ye drink it, in remembrance of me." 1 Cor. xi. 
 24, 25. These words, in substance, are insepara 
 ble from the ordinance. It would be nothing with 
 out them. We know, therefore, that these words 
 were uttered by Jesus before he was put to death. 
 What does this prove ? 
 
 It proves that Jesus, while banqueting with his 
 disciples, foretold his own violent death, and with 
 so much certainty of the fulfilment of his proph 
 ecy, that he instituted an ordinance in memory of 
 the event. 
 
 It proves that his prophecy was fulfilled, and 
 that he was violently put to death. Otherwise, the 
 
HISTORICAL IMPORTANCE. 27 
 
 observance of the rite among his followers would 
 have been but mockery. 
 
 It proves that his death was voluntary ; for it 
 shows that he knew his danger, and that, instead 
 of taking measures to escape or to resist, he re 
 mained where it was certain to come upon him, 
 foretold the result, and even rendered it necessaiy 
 to his own cause ; for he would have been proved 
 a false prophet, if his enemies had not succeeded 
 in their design against his life. 
 
 It proves that he acted from benevolent motives, 
 and those of the most elevated kind ; for no others 
 could be found to induce a man voluntarily to sub 
 mit to a tormenting, and, as it was then regarded, 
 a shameful death. 
 
 It proves, then, that he spoke what he believed 
 to be the truth. Can we conceive of a man, 
 whose whole life is one continued falsehood, be 
 coming a voluntary martyr to the noblest princi 
 ples of benevolence ? 
 
 It proves, then, that his religion is true ; for that 
 religion presents claims respecting the truth of 
 which he could not have been mistaken. 
 
 Thus have we reached this great conclusion, 
 the truth of the Christian religion, plainly dedu- 
 cible from the existence throughout the world, at 
 this day, of the ordinance of the Lord s Supper. 
 
28 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 If all the records of our faith were swept away, 
 and there remained, besides this rite, only some 
 traditions respecting the history of our Saviour s 
 life and death, the argument we have now con 
 templated would not be overthrown. It does not 
 depend on the authenticity of writings. It stands 
 in its own strength, an immovable pillar, though 
 comparatively an unnoticed one, among the thou 
 sand which support the temple of Gospel truth. 
 
FOR WHOM IS THE COMMUNION INTENDED ? 
 
 A QUESTION of great practical importance pre 
 sents itself. For whom is the communion intend 
 ed ? Some limitations are given by general con 
 sent, and by the nature of the ordinance itself. 
 No one, probably, in this age, would be disposed 
 to admit to the Lord s table, children whose early 
 age prevents them from understanding the mean 
 ing of the emblems exhibited, or persons whose 
 immoral lives would be a scandal to the Church of 
 Christ. The exclusion of the latter class is, in 
 deed, sanctioned by the example of the Corinthian 
 church, under the direction of St. Paul. 1 Cor. 
 v.; 2 Cor. ii. 6-10; vii. 11. The ordinance 
 of baptism, also, being the proper form of intro 
 duction to the Church, should be received before 
 the disciple partakes of the communion. Belief 
 
 in Christ, and a determination to live according to 
 3* 
 
 U 3 
 
JJ 
 
 30 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 his law, appear the only other requisites which we 
 are authorized to demand. 
 
 It may be asked, however, if those who desire 
 to unite in this ordinance should not possess the 
 evidence within themselves that they have expe 
 rienced that change of heart which our Saviour 
 describes as regeneration ? 
 
 If by regeneration is meant the commencement 
 of a pious life, by the serious direction of the 
 thoughts towards religion, in other words, the 
 recognition of the truth, that we are bound in duty 
 to serve our God, and the adoption of this truth as 
 the ground of conduct for the future, then, cer 
 tainly, we say that no one, unless thus regenerate, 
 should approach the table of the Lord. It would 
 be mockery for one to draw nigh thither, who had 
 as yet no serious purpose to obey the religion of 
 Him whom he thus in outward form acknowledges 
 as his Master. But if the inquiry relates rather to 
 the inward working of the Holy Spirit than to its 
 result in the determination of the will, if it be 
 questioned whether one can lawfully partake of the 
 communion, until he is conscious of feelings such 
 as can only be accounted for by the direct agen 
 cy of the spirit of God, then would we reply, 
 that the condition thus suggested is unreasonable. 
 The voice of God s spirit to the heart comes, we 
 
FOR WHOM INTENDED? 31 
 
 have reason to believe, in a manner not always 
 distinguishable from the general current of the 
 thoughts and feelings. While some are able to 
 state with considerable accuracy the period of their 
 conversion, others and among them many em 
 inent for piety in various denominations arc 
 unable to remember the time when they began to 
 love and honor their Maker. " Secret things be 
 long to God " ; and among such mysteries we may 
 well class the nature and boundaries of that inter 
 course which he maintains, by his Holy Spirit, 
 with our souls. To us belongs the plain duty of 
 obeying our Saviour s plain commands. 
 
 Nor is it in our power to fix on any particular 
 degree of moral attainment which shall qualify the 
 disciple for attendance on the Supper of his Lord. 
 The most virtuous man, the sincerest Christian, 
 must not bring to that hallowed ordinance the 
 feeling that he is without sin ; the true penitent 
 may humbly approach, though the past offences 
 which he has now for ever renounced with detes 
 tation, should be " as scarlet." This, indeed, may 
 justly be required, that none should, by this or 
 dinance, make profession of his faith in Christ, 
 who, either by inveterate and unconquered evil 
 habits, or by notorious fickleness of disposition, is 
 likely to bring discredit on the cause of religion. 
 
32 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 Should any one, for instance, in a former irrelig 
 ious life, have been guilty of habitual profanity, 
 let him not feel that regret for such a sin, how 
 ever sincere, authorizes him at once to connect 
 himself with the Church of Christ. Let him rath 
 er first prove his strength to overcome the old 
 evil habit ; and when this has been successfully 
 tested by time, he may join his fellow-disciples at 
 the table of the Lord, without incurring the dan 
 ger of " giving occasion to the enemy to blas 
 pheme." 
 
 For whom, then, is the communion intended ? 
 
 It is intended for the humble believer ; for him 
 who, having examined as far as he had the power, 
 rests in the conviction that the Gospel of Christ is 
 true. Yes, though occasionally doubts may pass 
 across his mind, though he may be at times in 
 the spirit of him who said, " Lord, I believe ; 
 help thou mine unbelief " ; yet if his faith, 
 though trembling, rests on the sure ground of de 
 liberate, impartial examination, if he feels that 
 he has good reason for believing, the commun 
 ion is intended for him. It will give strength to his 
 wavering confidence. It will reassure his doubt 
 ing spirit. He will be brought by it into the pres 
 ence of Jesus, and hear his words ; and doubt and 
 fear will vanish as he listens. 
 
8 
 
 FOR. WHOM INTENDED ? 33 
 
 The communion is intended for the young dis 
 ciple, young in Christian experience, whether 
 he be of many or of few years, who has en 
 tered sufficiently upon the course of piety to be 
 firm in his own determination to pursue it, but 
 who feels still that he has much to learn, that he 
 has difficulties to encounter, and trials to over 
 come. Let him not be discouraged. Let him not 
 think that it would be presumption in him to ap 
 proach the table of the Lord. If he has reason 
 to be persuaded that, by the grace of God, his 
 union with the visible Church will not be dishon 
 ored by his desertion of the path he has chosen, 
 let him not be dismayed because he knows that 
 the path has its difficulties. Let him delay as 
 long as prudence requires, but let him not perma 
 nently dispense with the invaluable aid in a Chris 
 tian course which a participation in the commun 
 ion will impart. That will render religion more a 
 personal thing to him than it otherwise could be. 
 It will give him a deeper interest in the individual 
 character and sufferings of Jesus Christ. It will pre 
 sent stated seasons for religious reflection and the 
 examination of himself. Let him not, by unfound 
 ed fears, deprive himself of these advantages. 
 
 The communion is intended for the parent. It 
 will introduce religion into the bosom of his fam- 
 
34 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 ily. It will set before his children the blessed ex 
 ample of their father s reverence for religion ; an 
 example speaking louder than a thousand pre 
 cepts. It is intended for the afflicted. It will 
 bring before the eye of faith the picture of the 
 Saviour s patient endurance, and of his love, 
 stronger than death itself. It is intended for the 
 happy. It will lead their minds up from the en 
 joyment of God s gifts to the knowledge and love 
 of their bestower. It will warm their hearts to 
 wards their heavenly friend, their Redeemer, and 
 cause their feelings of joy to be expanded and pu 
 rified into a sympathy with all happiness, and a 
 fervent desire to diminish all misery, throughout 
 the world which that Redeemer came to bless. 
 
REASONS FOR ATTENDING THE COMMUNION. 
 
 OUR Lord Jesus Christ still spreads his table, 
 still invites us to the simple feast by which he is 
 commemorated. But, as in the parable which he 
 himself related, of a certain king who made a 
 great supper, how many of those to whom the in 
 vitation comes, begin \vith one consent to make 
 excuse ! Some refrain because the rite is in their 
 apprehension without meaning ; others, because 
 they are welt aware that it means too much for 
 them to unite in it, that it implies a promise of 
 consistent service to God and to Christ, which they 
 are not yet resolved to render. One declines be 
 cause the standard of conduct among professing 
 Christians is too low ; another, because the stand 
 ard of conduct in the law of Christ is too high, 
 too high for his own worldly inclinations and 
 principles. 
 
36 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 Let us take a view of the considerations which 
 should lead the believer in Christ to unite in the 
 observance of the Lord s Supper. 
 
 In the first place, if there were no perceptible 
 advantage arising either to ourselves or others 
 from attendance on the ordinance of Christian 
 communion, and apart also from all considerations 
 of devotional or affectionate feeling, it is our duty, 
 because it is commanded by him who speaks to 
 us in the name of God. " This do," said our 
 Saviour, " in remembrance of me." The voice 
 of love in which he spoke, the motive of love 
 which he presented, should not make those who 
 reverence him forget that he is authorized to com 
 mand them. " This," said the holy voice on the 
 Mount of Transfiguration, " is my beloved Son ; 
 hear ye him." Shall we not, then, obey the call 
 of him who comes to us thus, the commissioned 
 messenger of his Heavenly Father ? It may be 
 that the purposes of the ordinance are to us ob 
 scure ; but if they were altogether unknown, would 
 it not be enough that we are commanded to ob 
 serve it ? Is a child to know the purpose of every 
 direction his parent gives, before he determines 
 whether he will obey it ? Let it be enough for 
 us, though there were naught else to engage us, 
 that our Saviour hath required it, he who was 
 
g 
 
 REASONS FOR ATTENDING IT. 37 
 
 authorized to speak in the name of his Father and 
 our Father, of his God and our God. 
 
 Yet is there a doubt on our minds, whether 
 those words of his were truly a command, or 
 whether that command, if given, is applicable to 
 us ? Let us contemplate the example of our Lord 
 himself under circumstances which authorized a 
 similar doubt. John was baptizing in Judea. 
 There was no provision of God s written law, re* 
 quiring that all should receive this baptism. The 
 prophet invited all, and many of the devout re 
 ceived the rite at his hands. Among those who 
 offered themselves to his ministration was one, so 
 pure, so holy in character, that John himself felt 
 that the penitential rite could not have to him its 
 full application. He hesitated. " I have need to 
 be baptized of thee," said he, " and comest thou 
 to me ? " But Jesus replied, " Suffer it to be so 
 now, for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteous 
 ness." He would not plead exemption from a 
 common duty. He would not make curious ques 
 tions with regard to the imperative character of 
 the calls of religion. Let the meek obedience of 
 our Saviour be a lesson to us. 
 
 In the next place, apart from the consideration 
 of duty in obeying an express command, we owe 
 
 to Christ himself this expression of our reverence 
 4 
 
38 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 and love to him. For our sakes, among millions 
 of others, indeed, yet truly for our sakes, did the 
 Redeemer give in his life the holiest lessons, both 
 in word and conduct, and finally lay down that 
 life upon the cross. We believe that he did so. 
 He asks of us to express that belief in a peculiar, 
 and very easy and simple manner. We surely 
 owe it to him to comply with this request. If it 
 be said that now, removed from this world, our 
 Saviour can have no knowledge of what we do, 
 and derive no pleasure from it, it may be an 
 swered, in the first place, that this assertion takes 
 for granted what admits of discussion. We are 
 not authorized to assert that the blessed Jesus is 
 not still conversant with the actions and the feel 
 ings of those whom he came to save. In the sec 
 ond place, our obligation to cherish the memory 
 of a friend depends not on his knowledge whether 
 we fulfil it. It would be ungrateful in a child to 
 forget his parent, in a nation to lose the mem 
 ory of the hero who had wrought its deliverance, 
 though the parent and the hero were resting in the 
 grave. Gratitude, then, to our holy Saviour, calls 
 upon us to remember him in the way he pointed 
 out, and thus to acknowledge his name in the 
 presence of our fellow-men. 
 
 This obligation of gratitude appears stronger 
 
 n 
 
REASONS FOR ATTENDING IT. 39 
 
 when we remember that this rite is not an un 
 meaning form, but wisely appointed by Christ as 
 a means of reminding us of the most impressive, 
 most affecting portion of his history. In the last 
 peaceful hour he enjoyed before his tortures, he 
 chose one simple emblem to represent his body 
 that was to be lacerated and broken, another to 
 remind us of his blood that was to be shed. If, 
 then, we have a feeling of gratitude to him, we 
 shall desire to keep alive and strengthen that feel 
 ing ; and, apart from the fact of his having ap 
 pointed it, there could be nothing more suitable in 
 itself for that purpose than a custom which thus 
 brings before us the remembrance of his voluntary 
 sufferings for the sake of mankind. 
 
 Not only is our attendance on the communion 
 due from us to our Master personally ; it is due to 
 the religion of which he is the head, to the holy 
 cause for which he gave his life. That cause is 
 the cause of God and of man ; and the ordinance 
 in question is that by which we express towards it 
 our allegiance. It is the cause of God ; for Christ 
 made known to the world the true character of the 
 Creator, revealing him to us as a God of love and 
 of holiness. In proportion as the Christian religion 
 is received and appreciated in the world, will the 
 Divine Being be truly and worthily known and 
 
40 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 honored. That for which Christ died is the cause 
 of man, for our best hopes for man s improve 
 ment and happiness must be connected with the 
 spread of the Gospel. It is this which must put 
 an end to war, by teaching the lesson of love ; 
 to slavery, by teaching justice ; to intemper 
 ance, by teaching self-restraint. It is this, this 
 alone, faith in God as Christ has revealed him to 
 us, which can conquer every evil passion of our 
 race, subdue selfishness, and render mankind a 
 band of brothers, aiding each other in their path 
 to the highest good of which their present exist 
 ence is capable. And, far more, it is this which 
 alone can prepare man for heaven, can remove 
 from before the sight of the mourner the cloud 
 that darkens the grave, and bid the rays of heav 
 enly light shine through. It is this, if any thing, 
 which must make man feel that he is an immortal 
 being, and act in a manner to prepare himself for 
 the fulness of his immortality. It is, then, the 
 cause of God and man that claims the profession 
 of our allegiance. And can it be doubted that the 
 rite in question is the mode of expressing that 
 profession ? Baptism, as administered among us, 
 cannot be so regarded. Attendance at worship is 
 practised alike by those who are deeply interested 
 in religion, and those who are not. Those, then, 
 
REASONS FOR ATTENDING IT. 41 
 
 who desire to see the Redeemer s cause prosper 
 ing in the world, are bound to express their own 
 allegiance to it, in the way generally recognized 
 among Christians, and appointed by the Master 
 himself. Our duty here resembles that which ev 
 ery citizen owes to what he deems correct princi 
 ples in public affairs ; to give his vote for them. 
 By professing Christianity we give to it our vote ; 
 we throw our personal influence into the scale of 
 the Gospel. 
 
 Not only do we owe this duty to the w r orld, or 
 more distinctly to the community in which we re 
 side ; we owe it to our own familiar friends, our 
 own domestic circles. By a profession of relig 
 ion, we give a distinct and public testimony to its 
 worth, adding weight to all other testimony we may 
 bear in its favor. A young man may advise his 
 companions to a virtuous and pious course, and it 
 is well ; but it will probably have still more effect 
 on them, if, in addition to his advice, he distinctly 
 pledges himself to the course he recommends. A 
 father may teach his children to love God, and 
 honor their Saviour s commands, and it is well ; 
 but it will be better still, if, together with this, he 
 shows them by a public profession that he himself 
 desires to do as he instructs them to do. At the 
 Passover, that solemn feast on which the commun- 
 
42 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 ion was founded, it was customary among the 
 Jews, that, when they had assembled around the 
 board, one of the children should inquire, What 
 mean ye by this service ? At this prepared 
 suggestion, one of the older persons told the 
 tale of that great deliverance to commemorate 
 which the Passover had been instituted ; and 
 the young learned reverence and gratitude from 
 perceiving these sentiments expressed by their 
 parents. 
 
 Again, we are called on to participate in this 
 ordinance, by our regard for the purity and life of 
 the Christian Church itself. There are many who 
 complain that the Church is not doing, for the 
 good of mankind and the glory of God, all that it 
 ought to do. No doubt the complaint is well 
 founded. It is in accordance with the testimony 
 of Scripture, as to the weakness of human pur 
 poses, and with the witness borne by the con 
 sciences of Christians to their own deficiencies. 
 But the professed followers of Christ may well re 
 ply to those who thus complain, Friends, will you 
 not aid us more by joining us, and adding your 
 strength to ours, than by merely reproaching us 
 with that imperfection which we are ready to ac 
 knowledge ? The work which our Master, Christ, 
 has left us, the work of making his religion trium- 
 
 -U 
 
REASONS FOR ATTENDING IT. 43 
 
 phant in the world, of doing good unto all men, 
 and keeping ourselves pure from evil, is enough 
 to engage all our best powers, and deserves the 
 combined effort of all who in their hearts honor 
 their Redeemer. 
 
 In no age of the world, perhaps, has the great 
 purpose of the Church of Christ been more clear 
 ly, more gloriously, presented before it than it is 
 now. This is a period of agitation, an age of rev 
 olutions. There are mighty elements at work to 
 effect changes, mighty powers engaged to resist 
 those changes. Amid the storm, it is only the 
 voice of Christian love that can say, Peace, be 
 still ! Let the Church awake to her duty. Let 
 those of ardent mind, who now denounce her, 
 bring their ardor to her service, and suffer her 
 gentleness to blend therewith. Let her calm, ma 
 jestic voice be heard, bearing testimony against 
 every form of evil, and her hand uplift before the 
 eager combatants the cross, emblem of meekness, 
 patience, truth, and love, with its inscription as in 
 the legendary vision of old time, " In this over 
 come." 
 
 Attendance on this commemorative ordinance 
 is also a part of the duty which the Christian 
 owes to himself. Beset with temptations as we 
 are, with the world offering to us continual in- 
 
44 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 ducements to neglect the cultivation of our higher 
 nature, we need every holy influence of which 
 we can avail ourselves. If we perceive not this 
 need, that very unconsciousness shows the urgen 
 cy of our necessity. But who, that is sincerely 
 and manfully striving to make his own character 
 what God approves, does not feel that he needs 
 all the aid which religion can afford him ? Among 
 the means of spiritual improvement, the commun 
 ion holds a place on two distinct grounds, as a 
 mark of Christian profession, and from the emo 
 tions which in itself it is suited to excite. As a 
 mark of Christian profession, it is a pledge to God 
 and man of the intention of those who assume it 
 to live worthily of the name by which they are 
 called ; and the expression of a virtuous resolu 
 tion is always regarded as one means of gaining 
 strength for its fulfilment. It has been recom 
 mended by religious writers, that the Christian 
 should draw up a solemn act of self-dedication to 
 the service of his God, and, with due deliberation 
 and prayer, affix to it his signature. In the ob 
 servance of the communion, however, such an act 
 is implied. None can for the first time assume 
 a place among those who profess the name of 
 Christ, without feeling that a solemn pledge has 
 been given, which God has witnessed no less 
 
REASONS FOR ATTENDING IT. 45 
 
 than man, and which henceforth it must be the 
 effort of life to maintain. 
 
 And, by the feelings which in itself it excites, 
 the communion has an influence too valuable for 
 the disciple to dispense with. At this table we 
 meet our Saviour. We commune with him. We 
 have our great model placed, more distinctly than 
 at other times, before our view. Sympathy is ex 
 cited for his sufferings, love for his self-devotion, 
 emulation of his stainless virtue, and the desire to 
 share, in some degree, his harmony of spirit with 
 the Supreme. In the solemn stillness with which 
 the exercises are varied, the soul turns its glance 
 inward, and self-examination points out what duty 
 has yet to accomplish, while the ardent vow to 
 fulfil the task appointed is rendered more holy by 
 the prayer that Heaven will give us strength for 
 its performance. 
 
 Lastly, to the thoughtful Christian, should not 
 this hallowed act be the natural result of the feel 
 ings within ? If we love and reverence Christ, 
 why fear to profess it ? If we desire to do right, 
 why not avow, and thus strengthen, that desire ? 
 It is a part of the experience of a religious charac 
 ter, essential to the completeness of the whole ; and 
 if the character be truly and thoroughly Christian, it 
 should seem that self-denial, if exerted at all, must 
 
46 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 be used to keep us from the hallowed table, not to 
 overcome our reluctance to approach it. 
 
 Come, then, with us, may the disciple say to 
 those who hesitate, and we will do you good. 
 Nay, rather, come with us, and our Master, Christ, 
 and his holy Gospel and its ordinances, and the 
 God from whom they came, will bless us all, and 
 enable us to aid and to bless each other. 
 
LORD ! I AM NOT WORTHY. MATT. VIII. 8. 
 
 No grace is more lovely than true Christian 
 humility ; no grace, perhaps, more difficult to at 
 tain, and to preserve in its due strength, alike 
 without diminution and without alloy. The very 
 consciousness that we possess it is dangerous to its 
 existence. Yet it is indispensable. Scarce any 
 quality is sooner missed by the observant eye of 
 the world ; for pride and vanity are faults that lie 
 on the surface, obvious to the sight of all ; and 
 though in their smaller degrees they may be 
 classed among venial sins, yet, when they have 
 attained their full power, they are equally despi 
 cable in the sight of men, and offensive in that of 
 God. 
 
 True humility results from a right appreciation 
 of our own relation to the Supreme Being and to 
 our fellow-creatures. We are to feel, as we look 
 upward, that we are children of a day in the pres- 
 
48 
 
 ence of the Eternal, imperfect and sinful in 
 the presence of the All-Pure. We are to feel, 
 as we look round on our fellow-men, that we are 
 of them, not above them ; that our natures are 
 like theirs, our powers of mind and body similar, 
 our destiny for eternity the same. Over each of 
 our brethren the Universal Father watches, as 
 over us. To each he has promised the same 
 heaven as to us, and on the same conditions. 
 We know that there is nothing which we possess, 
 either internal or external, which we have not re 
 ceived from the Divine Giver. We are to feel, 
 therefore, that there is nothing of which w r e can 
 glory, as if it were in truth our own. But per 
 haps the feeling of humility results not so much 
 from any other view, as from that in which we 
 contemplate ourselves as sinful, recall to memory 
 our many transgressions of the Divine law, and 
 bring our own imperfection into immediate con 
 trast with the high standard of duty as set forth in 
 word and deed by our Saviour. Then, indeed, 
 does it appear to us that boasting is excluded ; 
 then, indeed, as we listen to the Saviour s invita 
 tions of love, the Father s promises of mercy, are 
 we ready to exclaim, Lord ! I am not worthy. 
 
 We are not worthy that the Saviour should 
 come to us ; the world, when he came, was not 
 
H 
 
 LORD ! I AM NOT WORTHY. 49 
 
 worthy that he should abide in a fleshly taberna 
 cle and mingle among its blinded and denied spir 
 its. Nor are we, at this day, worthy of the grace 
 that is granted to us, in the Saviour s coming to us 
 through his word and through his ordinances. If 
 worthiness be taken in its strict, primitive sense, 
 these mercies of God have been, and are yet, con 
 ferred on the undeserving ; but in that sense which 
 mercy recognizes, we are worthy, we are wor 
 thy of assistance, for we need assistance. Our 
 plea is not our merit, but our necessity. 
 
 Humility is true and proper, when, proceeding 
 from thoughts like these, it suggests to us the in 
 adequacy of our efforts, if unassisted by the grace 
 of God. It should teach us to depend, not on our 
 selves alone, but on his aid, freely and kindly 
 given to our sincere efforts. True humility will 
 be far from rendering us hopeless or discouraged. 
 It points us to the never-failing Source of strength. 
 It leads us to the Rock that is higher than we ; 
 and, while it deprives our works of obedience of 
 the pretence to perfection in themselves, it gives 
 to them new dignity and value, as those offerings 
 of faith and love on which the Eternal King has 
 deigned to smile. 
 
 But there is a false as well as a true humility. 
 This heavenly grace is not, more than any other, 
 
n 
 
 50 
 
 exempted from the danger attending human vir 
 tue, in this world of trial, the danger of running 
 into extremes, and changing its real character for 
 one far less acceptable to God and profitable to 
 man. 
 
 Perhaps the plea of mistaken humility is never 
 so frequently brought forward, as for the neglect 
 of attendance upon the table of the Lord. It is, 
 in fact, the general plea. " I am not worthy to 
 become a member of the Christian Church," is 
 the language, and, no doubt, the sincere language, 
 of thousands. " I am conscious of so many frail 
 ties, of being so far from the character which 
 God requires, that I feel that it would be presump 
 tion in me to class myself among the professed 
 disciples of the Redeemer." That there are 
 those by whom this language might be used with 
 propriety, we are far from denying. We have no 
 wish to see persons who are really unworthy, and 
 whose conduct would do dishonor to the Christian 
 name, pressing to the table of the Lord. But the 
 objection is less frequently urged by such than by 
 a different class, the class of those who are try 
 ing to do right, who respect religion, and whose 
 lives are influenced by its teachings, the very 
 class who most need the hallowed influence of the 
 communion, to give strength to their faith and 
 
LORD ! I AM NOT WORTHY. 51 
 
 vigor to their purposes, and for the consistency of 
 whose profession none but themselves would en 
 tertain any apprehension. 
 
 Christian friend, distrust in yourself that humil 
 ity which would keep you from the discharge of 
 plain and positive duty. If, indeed, your charac 
 ter has been, and continues to be, such as will ren 
 der your assumption of a Christian profession dis 
 graceful to the Church, and thereby injurious to 
 others, you have previous duties to discharge, 
 those of repentance and reformation. If you be 
 engaged in those great tasks, continue them, until 
 you feel a reasonable assurance that your conduct 
 will give no occasion to the adversaries of religion 
 to speak reproachfully, but wait not for an unat 
 tainable perfection before you discharge the duty 
 to which your Saviour has called you. And in 
 reference both to this subject and to every other, 
 let true humility ever be the companion of your 
 way. Conscious of your own weakness, look 
 continually to God for strength to aid your efforts ; 
 conscious of your own sins, strive ever to conquer 
 them, and to advance, day by day, nearer to the 
 heavenly mark, the prize of Christian excellence. 
 Humility should lead you, not to despond, but to 
 be watchful in effort, and constant in prayer. If 
 temptation is conquered, ascribe the glory to the 
 
52 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 Lord, whose aid was with you. If temptation 
 is, in an evil hour, allowed to conquer, remem 
 ber, while you mourn over your fall, that the 
 mercies of the Lord are from everlasting to 
 everlasting, that true repentance is always ac 
 ceptable in his sight, and that for the strength 
 which you have lost through sin, it becomes you 
 to walk with the more circumspection, and to look 
 to him with more of beseeching earnestness. But 
 despond not. Shrink not from your duties. Abuse 
 not the name of humility, to make it an excuse for 
 neglect. If your heart breathes forth, " Lord, I 
 am not worthy that thou shouldst come under my 
 roof," strive to become more deserving, and mean 
 time let your petition be, " Lord, come in thine 
 own worthiness, and not in mine." 
 

 WHAT IS THAT TO THEE? FOLLOW THOU 
 ME. JOHN XXI. 22. 
 
 HUMAN beings are, by the constitution of their 
 natures, liable to be influenced by each other. 
 Sometimes the principle of imitation, sometimes 
 the opposite propensity to be unlike others, con 
 trols our course of conduct. Within certain 
 bounds, this is right. The propensity to imitation, 
 especially, is of high value in the early, the form 
 ing period of our lives. But it must be remem 
 bered, still, that there is a relation between every 
 human being and his Maker, in which no third 
 person bears a part ; that the man is answer 
 able for himself, and is guilty or not guilty, ac 
 cording as he acts in conformity to his own con 
 science or against it. The wrong that we do is 
 not less truly evil, because we may have followed 
 a multitude to do it. The good that we have 
 
 omitted to do was not less truly our duty, because 
 
 5* 
 
 . n 
 
54 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 others neglected to do it, or discharged it in an 
 imperfect or erroneous manner. Independence 
 in our actions is often no less required of us by 
 religion, than it is by true manliness of character. 
 Without it, we forfeit consistency and self-ap 
 proval. The things that we would, we do not, 
 and those that we would not, those we do. The 
 mind, meantime, is neither satisfied with itself, 
 nor certain what course it should pursue. It is 
 inquiring what others do, instead of asking of the 
 law of God what is its own duty. And, as the 
 conduct of others is infinitely various, it is embar 
 rassed and divided among conflicting courses, 
 when a plain, straightforward path lies open be 
 fore it, in which it would go on, without doubt or 
 fear, if but once fully decided to follow Christ 
 and duty. 
 
 Let us, if we feel disposed to hesitate from re 
 gard to the conduct or the opinion of others, 
 where our own duty is clear, remember the words 
 of Jesus to his Apostle, " What is that to thee ? 
 Follow thou me." Let us not be withheld by 
 fear, or by any other cause, connected with the 
 imperfect and erring beings around us, from do 
 ing what we feel to be right. An independent 
 course is by no means inconsistent with due re 
 spect to the judgment of others. We may be ig- 
 
FOLLOW THOU ME. 55 
 
 norant, and others may be wise, we may be sin 
 ful, and they may be eminently virtuous, yet, in 
 regard to our own duty, we must walk by our 
 own light, not by theirs. We may seek from 
 them advice or information, we may sit in all hu 
 mility at their feet, to learn their wisdom and be 
 hold their virtues, but when an occasion arises 
 for us to act, if they or the whole world point to 
 one course, and conscience and God s word to 
 the opposite, conscience and God s word must be 
 obeyed. 
 
 What are the most common excuses made for 
 the neglect of the communion ? Few question 
 the fact that the Saviour of mankind left to his 
 disciples an ordinance which gratitude and duty 
 alike require them to observe. Yet thousands 
 who believe in the truth of Christ s religion, and 
 who are not without a sense of gratitude to the 
 God and the Saviour from whom it came, turn 
 away from the fulfilment of this obligation. What 
 are the reasons which they assign ? Some, un 
 doubtedly, can plead motives of a conscientious 
 character, which, whether altogether derived from 
 correct views or not, are yet entitled to respect. 
 Let us examine some of the reasons assigned by 
 others. 
 
 " I," replies one, " would willingly obey the last 
 
56 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 command of the Saviour, were it not that I should 
 stand nearly alone in so doing, among the circle 
 with which I am connected. My conduct, were 
 I to join the Church, would have the aspect of sin 
 gularity, perhaps of presumption. Why others, 
 older and wiser than myself, hold back, I cannot 
 understand ; but while they do, it is not for me to 
 press forward." To the person urging such an 
 objection as this, we may reply, The service you 
 are called on to render is an individual one, and 
 for which you are individually responsible. Those 
 whose example you follow in abstaining are act 
 ing for themselves, and are responsible to that 
 God who alone sees their hearts. But to you, in 
 dependent of them, the command of the Saviour 
 comes, " Follow thou me " ; and there rests on 
 you, independently of others, the responsibleness 
 of determining whether you will obey it. If others 
 do, as it appears to you, wrong, you may grieve 
 for their error, though it were better still to sus 
 pend, if possible, your judgment, leaving it to 
 Him who is their judge as well as yours ; but as 
 concerns the bearing of their conduct on yours, 
 the word of the Saviour is, " What is that to 
 thee ? Follow thou me." 
 
 " For me," replies another, and the class is 
 large, " I would join the Church of Christ, if I 
 
FOLLOW THOU ME. 57 
 
 saw those who are its members conducting them 
 selves worthily of their profession. But I cannot 
 perceive that they are any more shining examples 
 of virtue than other men. In fact, I have seen 
 such violations of the law of Christ, so much of 
 cant, formality, and hypocrisy, so much worldli- 
 ness of spirit with a pretence of religion, in those 
 who are called church-members, that I have no 
 idea of becoming one of their number." Such 
 language is not unfrequently used ; it is easy to 
 reply to it, that no one supposes that the fact of a 
 man s joining the Church exempts him from the 
 temptations common to human nature, and that 
 the standard of character in the Church, though 
 not as high as we could wish, is much higher 
 than that in the community at large. But the re 
 ply already given, in the words of Christ, and made 
 to the objector in his name, is amply sufficient to 
 meet the case. " What is that to thee ? Follow 
 thou me." Let all the real deficiencies of the 
 Church and church-members be admitted, they af 
 fect neither the command of the Lord, nor the 
 duty of those who believe in him. If others have 
 sinned, the evil they have done will be yet great 
 er, if it have the effect of causing thee to neglect 
 thy duty. If the cross of Christ has been borne 
 by so many unfaithfully, still greater is the reason 
 
58 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 for increasing the scanty number of its faithful 
 supporters. Assume it, then, thyself, neither de- 
 spondingly nor proudly, neither feeling that it 
 will be dishonored in thy hands, nor claiming 
 that thou canst bear it better than others have 
 done ; but calmly determined to do thine own du 
 ty to the best of thine ability, beseeching Divine 
 assistance, and leaving the judgment of thyself 
 and of others with God, to whom it belongs. If 
 others have sinned, their sins are upon themselves ; 
 if they have done well, they will not fail of their 
 reward ; but what is that to thee, to affect thy 
 conduct ? Follow thou thy Saviour. 
 
IS IT MY DUTY TO PAKTAKE OF THE 
 COMMUNION ? 
 
 I AM called on to determine whether I will offer 
 myself for reception to the Church. Let me view 
 the important question in the light of duty, giv 
 ing to every consideration, on either side, its due 
 weight, but nothing more. I trust that I sincerely 
 desire to do right. I would lay aside all unworthy 
 thoughts, whether of ostentation in making a pro 
 fession, or of timidity in declining it. It is a 
 question of duty, and, viewing it in that solemn 
 character, all such feelings as these must be re 
 linquished. Ostentation ! How can I think of 
 such a thing in the presence of my God ? Ti 
 midity ! If, indeed, God calls me, shall I fear the 
 face of man ? 
 
 But does God indeed call me to an act of this 
 kind ? What is there in my circumstances that 
 renders it more proper for me than for many oth- 
 
60 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 ers, who yet, I see, retire with me when the com 
 munion-table is spread ? Some of them are my 
 superiors in age and in character. While they 
 withdraw, can I with propriety remain ? Yet let 
 me reflect. I know not their motives in withhold 
 ing their attendance. I know not how far they 
 are justified. I cannot judge them ; God is their 
 only judge ; but is he not also mine ? If others 
 must decide for themselves in this matter what is 
 right, must not I also for myself ? Let me act, 
 then, not according to what others deem their du 
 ty, but by what appears to me to be my own. 
 
 And if I find that I have been influenced by 
 their example, let me reflect if others may not be 
 by mine. Are none now prevented from uniting 
 with the Church by seeing that I do not ? At 
 least, are none discouraged by seeing that crowd 
 retire, of which I form one ? Might not some be 
 induced to think of their duty in this respect, if 
 they knew that I had joined the Church ? Cannot 
 I think of some among my friends upon whom 
 such an act on my part would have a useful in 
 fluence ? 
 
 By uniting with the Church, I should give my 
 testimony in behalf of religion. Would not that 
 testimony have its weight in commending religion 
 to those I love ? 
 
IS IT MY DUTY TO PARTAKE OF IT ? 61 
 
 But am I, indeed, fit to join the Church. My 
 character is imperfect. I am often conscious of 
 not exercising due self-restraint. Let me reflect 
 upon my faults. What are my most easily beset 
 ting sins ? 
 
 As memory presents them to me, I shrink, in 
 deed, from coming, thus weak and imperfect, to 
 join the company of Christ s professed disciples. 
 Yet let me reflect. Is it not as sinners that we 
 must approach, if we would find acceptance ? 
 Yes, but as repentant sinners. Am I, then, truly 
 repentant ? 
 
 Is there a cherished sin, that I am unwilling to 
 forsake ? If so, let me not venture to make a 
 profession, which under such circumstances would 
 be hypocritical. But so it must not be. Shall I 
 prefer sin to holiness, destruction to salvation ? 
 
 I hope, I trust, that I am truly penitent. But I 
 am conscious of weakness. As I have fallen into 
 sin, so I may fall again ; and then, if I am a 
 member of the Church, my offence will be more 
 disgraceful to myself, and more injurious, than at 
 present. 
 
 But are not all human beings liable to fall ? 
 Shall none, then, join the Church, lest they should 
 disgrace their profession ? 
 
 The question resolves itself to this. Is there a 
 
62 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 reasonable probability that my future course will 
 be such as shall not inflict dishonor on the cause 
 of Christ ? 
 
 I feel my own weakness, but is not my strength 
 on high ? God will sustain me, if I pray to him. 
 Have I formed the habit of secret prayer ? Is 
 prayer with me an outward form merely, or is 
 my heart there ? Am I firm in my resolution to 
 continue steadfast in prayer and effort ? 
 
 Lord ! thou knowest my weakness, be thou my 
 strength ! 
 
 Perhaps I can judge something of the perma 
 nence of my good resolutions by their past his 
 tory. Are religious thoughts of recent date 
 with me, excited by some sudden cause, or have 
 they been for a length of time gradually devel 
 oped ? In the latter case, I may have more 
 confidence that they will be permanent, than in 
 the former. 
 
 Yet, in the former case, I must not quench the 
 spirit. If it should appear, on full reflection, that 
 I am not yet fitted to join the Church, let me at 
 least resolve on such a course of life as shall give 
 maturity to my present religious impressions. 
 Daily prayer, reading of the Scriptures, self-ex 
 amination from time to time, say at some stated 
 hour of every Sabbath, let me resolve on these, 
 
IS IT MY DUTY TO PARTAKE OF IT ? 63 
 
 as means for deepening and strengthening my re 
 ligious character. 
 
 And should not the same course be pursued if 
 I unite with the Church ? Assuredly. Thus much, 
 then, is at least attained. Lord ! grant thy bless 
 ing, that I may keep the resolution. 
 
 I talk of joining the Church. But are not all 
 believers really members of the Church of Christ ? 
 What right have the few who commune to arro 
 gate that title to themselves alone ? 
 
 Nay, but is it not rather true that others volun 
 tarily relinquish that title, than that they assume 
 it ? If all are members of the Church, then should 
 all partake of the Church s ordinances. And with 
 us, all are at liberty to do this who believe in 
 Christ, and are not excluded on account of im 
 moral conduct. The distinction, then, between 
 Church and congregation, so far as there is any 
 thing wrong in it, is chargeable, not on those who 
 commune, but on those who decline communing. 
 If all did their duty, Church and congregation 
 would be the same. 
 
 But are my feelings such, with regard to the 
 communion, that I can with profit partake of it ? 
 Can it be edifying to me ? 
 
 Can it be otherwise to contemplate my Saviour 
 at the period of his course when his holy charac- 
 
64 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 ter was most touchingly displayed ? Bread and 
 wine are, indeed, but outward elements ; but they 
 are emblems of the Lord s body and blood. Am 
 I so sensual that I cannot, in receiving them, think 
 of their emblematic meaning ? 
 
 I have said that I would at stated seasons exam 
 ine myself. Will not the communion present the 
 most suitable occasion for this duty ? Let it be 
 the task of every Lord s day ; but sometimes I 
 should comprehend in my survey a longer period 
 of time than from one Sabbath to another ; and 
 when can this be more suitably done than at the 
 communion ? 
 
 Will it not aid me to keep my good resolutions, 
 that I have thus professed them before my fellow- 
 men and before my God ? 
 
 Christ, my Saviour, requests this mark of grat 
 itude from me. Can I refuse it ? 
 
 Christ, my Master, commands this service. 
 Shall I disobey ? 
 
 I feel the force of considerations such as these. 
 My only doubt must be, whether my conduct will 
 be answerable to the profession I make. And this 
 doubt, I know, ought not entirely to withhold me. 
 It may require me to delay the act, until I have 
 by experience tested my ability to walk according 
 to the law of God. Yet let me remember that delay 
 
IS IT MY DUTY TO PARTAKE OF IT ? 65 
 
 is dangerous. If I postpone at all this duty, let it 
 be for a designated time ; and let that time be 
 given, as far as possible, to the careful use of the 
 various means of Christian advancement. Have 
 I not cause to fear even such delay, lest I lose 
 something of my present interest ? Aid me, O 
 God, by the spirit of wisdom, that I may decide 
 aright ! 
 
PART II. 
 OTJK SAYIOUTt 
 
PART II. 
 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 CHRIST THE IMAGE OF GOD. 
 
 IT is a distinguishing beauty of the Christian re 
 ligion, that, while it teaches the purely spiritual 
 character of our Creator, it presents to us, in Je 
 sus, a copy of his moral perfections, suited to our 
 comprehension, and worthy of our highest love 
 and reverence. But for this, the Divine Being, in 
 all the majesty of his infinite attributes, might 
 have appeared too exalted even for our worship. 
 Our thoughts, accustomed to the visible, corporeal 
 objects around us, cannot long endure the contem 
 plation of the invisible, incorporeal, infinite Mind. 
 Hence, many nations have fallen into idolatry ; 
 either representing their Maker by some visible 
 image, or worshipping instead some natural ob 
 ject, as the sun, the moon, or the stars. In the 
 
70 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 Hebrew nation, how constantly were prophecies, 
 miracles, chastisements, necessary to counteract a 
 similar tendency ! Yet they were provided with 
 outward objects of reverence, in their temple and 
 their ceremonial law. At length their tendency 
 to idolatry was subdued ; and in the heathen world, 
 also, intellectual refinement had prepared the way 
 for a spiritual religion. That religion was be 
 stowed upon the world. But, spiritual as it is, it 
 was beneficently adapted to human infirmity. 
 While the Almighty remains, and ever must re 
 main, exalted above our highest comprehension, 
 he has graciously furnished us with an image of 
 himself, in the character of Jesus ; so that when 
 our attention is overpowered in the contemplation 
 of the Eternal Father, we may yet gaze, un 
 wearied, on the " brightness of his glory," as it 
 beams in milder lustre in the person of his holy 
 messenger. 
 
 With this thought is to be connected another. 
 Though the character of the Eternal be, in its ful 
 ness, far too high for our conceptions, yet the re 
 semblance of that character exists, to some de 
 gree, in ourselves. We are made in the image 
 of God ; and, debased as our natures have been 
 by our own sins, that image still exists in us. We 
 could never understand any thing of the justice or 
 
THE IMAGE OF GOD. 71 
 
 the benevolence of God, did not justice and benev 
 olence exist in ourselves. We conceive of every 
 Divine attribute only by the possession of its like 
 ness. The peculiarity, then, in the character 
 of Jesus, which makes him to us a representative 
 of the Father, is, that he was a perfect man, 
 that in him, this image, which to some degree ex 
 ists in each of us, was found in perfection. In 
 contemplating him, then, we are led to a fuller 
 knowledge of the Divine character, while at the 
 same time we view our own nature in that perfec 
 tion which may be to ourselves the crown of eter 
 nal happiness in another world. He stood on 
 earth, in human nature, indeed, but in human na 
 ture pure from sin, in that human nature which 
 reflects the glories of the Divine. 
 
 In confirmation of this view, let us contemplate 
 his character more nearly, as delineated by the 
 four Evangelists. 
 
 But to what point shall we turn ? Even those 
 who have denied his claim to a supernatural com 
 mission, acknowledge the loveliness, the glory, of 
 that heavenly character ; yet when we approach 
 it, we stand surprised as well as awed. Its har 
 mony prevents us, for a time, from understanding 
 it. The man Christ Jesus is not like other men. 
 The moment we think of others, with whose his- 
 
72 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 tory we are familiar, their leading traits recur to 
 our remembrance. With the name of Peter is 
 connected inseparably the idea of impetuous zeal ; 
 the character of Paul is ever that of one formed 
 to command ; that of John exhibits one formed to 
 love. But when we look to Jesus, what trait in 
 him shall we select as shining above all the rest ? 
 None ! and this constitutes one of those moral 
 miracles which so strongly assist the evidence to 
 the truth of Christianity. The character of Jesus 
 is not one which any person would have invented. 
 It would have borne the impress of its fabrica 
 tor. As it is, it bears the impress of heaven, and 
 of heaven alone. Never man spake like that 
 man ; never man lived like him ; never man died 
 like him. Look at his character ; consider it 
 well ; then point out its peculiar grace. Is it the 
 love of God and submission to him, revealed in 
 the agony of the garden, and in his daily converse 
 with the Supreme ? But is his love to those 
 around him less beautiful, manifested as it is in his 
 long parting conversation, manifested through 
 out his life, and at his death ? And will you se 
 lect these traits of character as bearing peculiarly 
 the impress of superiority ? Look yet again. 
 The eye that wept over the tomb of Lazarus could 
 awe, with a look that struck them backward to the 
 
THE IMAGE OF GOD. 73 
 
 earth, the soldiers who came to take him. The 
 tongue that spoke such words of boundless love to 
 his followers, struck terror to the consciences of 
 the guilty Pharisees. He who humbled himself 
 to wash the feet of his disciples, appeared equally 
 in the majesty of heavenly perfection, whether he 
 rode into Jerusalem amid the hosannas of the 
 people, or stood a prisoner in the hall of the chief 
 priest or of Pilate. The same being who prayed 
 that the cup of sorrow might be taken from him, 
 yet in submission to the will of Him who gave it, 
 the same being it was who made those replies of 
 patient dignity,- " If I have spoken evil, bear 
 witness of the evil ; but if well, why smitest thou 
 me ? " " Thou couldst have no power at all 
 against me, except it were given thee from 
 above." " Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not 
 for me, but weep for yourselves and for your 
 children." His character is a union of qualities 
 seldom found together, never but in him found to 
 gether in perfection. From this we may derive 
 a most important lesson, that, in aiming at the pu 
 rification and exaltation of our own characters, we 
 should not make it our object to excel in one 
 point or in a few points merely, but in all ; and 
 that we should never rest till the victory be gained, 
 till we come to the stature of perfect men in Christ 
 
74 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 Jesus, deficient in no part, but formed in beautiful 
 proportion to the resemblance of our glorious 
 model. 
 
 We thus contemplate in Jesus the image of Di 
 vine excellence, united, identified, with the perfec 
 tion of human virtue. What a field for meditation 
 is open before us here ! In Jesus the Divine and hu 
 man characters meet ; through Jesus we learn that 
 we are truly created in the image of God, for we see 
 that image in him while we recognize him as one 
 of our brethren. How important is the truth thus 
 impressed ! We are sharers in the Divine char 
 acter ; we are like God ; we may become more 
 like him. Already are we like him in all that is 
 worthiest, most elevated, in our principles and 
 conduct ; and that the resemblance may be in 
 creased, he has stamped this more perfect image 
 of himself on a human being, and presents that 
 being to us as the object of our love, and rever 
 ence, and imitation. 
 
 At length, we trust, a time will come when we 
 shall be like our Saviour, " for we shall see him 
 as he is." Then, in the nearer contemplation of 
 Divine perfections, shall we attain that freedom 
 from sin, that high degree of holiness, which con 
 stituted Jesus, and will constitute us, " the image 
 of the Invisible God." Glorious, transcendent 
 
THE IMAGE OF GOD. 75 
 
 destiny ! If men could but realize it, if they 
 had faith in what the Gospel teaches, if they 
 but believed and felt the sacred truth, that they 
 are children of God, and are to become like their 
 Father, and to live for ever with him, how ea 
 gerly would they turn from the prizes of ambi 
 tion, however bright, from the pursuit of rich 
 es, however engrossing, from sensual pleasure, 
 however fascinating, and think no labor, no pri 
 vation, no endurance, too severe, so that their im 
 mortal hopes might be secured ! 
 
CHRIST OUR BROTHER. 
 
 WHATEVER views may be entertained by any 
 with respect to the exalted character and office 
 of our holy Master, all admit him to have been, 
 in the most obvious sense, a brother of the great 
 family of man. Like us he lay, a feeble infant, 
 in his mother s arms ; like us, he acquired, grad 
 ually, as month succeeded month, and year fol 
 lowed year, a knowledge of the objects around 
 him ; like ours, his young thoughts were strength 
 ened by degrees, till able to take in the great idea 
 of God. Like ours, too, his moral strength grew 
 with his bodily and intellectual. As he " in 
 creased in wisdom and stature," so also " in fa 
 vor with God and man." It was gradually that 
 the innocence of childhood ripened into the virtue 
 of perfected humanity. So, too, in after life, like 
 us he became acquainted with the various forms 
 of suffering by actual experience. He shared the 
 
OUR BROTHER. 77 
 
 pleasures and the pains of human nature. He 
 was " found in fashion as a man," and was 
 " made perfect through sufferings. " " In all 
 things it behooved him to be made like unto his 
 brethren." 
 
 And as we regard his character as the standard 
 of perfect humanity, we are not surprised to find 
 that the feelings, which are often rudely checked 
 and kept from their full development, were in him 
 more strongly exhibited than they are in the ma 
 jority of mankind. The susceptibility to pain, 
 which made the anticipations in Gethsemane so 
 agonizing to him, has been eagerly noticed by 
 those who would rejoice to find something to cen 
 sure in his holy character ; not perceiving that, 
 the more agonizing was his idea of the tortures 
 he was to undergo, the greater was the triumph 
 of courage, love, and holiness in enduring them. 
 The keenness with which every gentler emotion 
 was felt by him has been often commented on, 
 exhibited, as it was, in his last affectionate meet 
 ing with his disciples before his death, his friend 
 ship for the Apostle John, for Lazarus and his sis 
 ters, and his care, even in death, for the comfort 
 and future home of his bereaved mother. 
 
 Nor is his participation in human nature and 
 human feelings alone the ground on which we 
 
78 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 speak of the brotherhood of Christ with man. 
 He exhibited to mankind a brother s love. Ev 
 er before his mind, probably from the earliest 
 thoughtful hours of youth, was the great object of 
 benefiting the human race, as that object has been 
 before the minds of the wise and the holy, who 
 have left names honored on the records of philan 
 thropic exertion. Thus does the great English 
 poet describe him, as communing with himself in 
 meditation. 
 
 " When I was yet a child, no childish play 
 To me was pleasing ; all my mind was set 
 Serious to learn and know, and thence to do 
 What might be public good : myself I thought 
 Born to that end, born to promote all truth." 
 
 " Victorious deeds 
 
 Flamed in my heart, heroic acts ; one while 
 To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke, 
 Then to subdue and quell, o er all the earth, 
 Brute violence and proud tyrannic power, 
 Till truth were freed and equity restored ; 
 Yet held it more humane, more heavenly, first 
 By winning words to conquer willing hearts, 
 And make persuasion do the work of fear." 
 
 Paradise Regained, Book I. 
 
 We can well believe that the genius of Milton, 
 itself so conversant with all that is high and noble, 
 depicted rightly, in this passage, the early medita- 
 
OUR BROTHER. 79 
 
 tions of the Son of God, the Brother, the Friend, 
 the Saviour of mankind. And conformable to 
 such high anticipations, only more elevated still, 
 as the maturity of a holy life exceeds the loftiest 
 conception of it that youth can form, was the 
 course which he actually pursued. Well is it 
 said of him, that he u went about doing good." 
 His supernatural powers were constantly exerted to 
 relieve pain, and increase happiness ; and not these 
 alone. He was, wherever he went, the consoler 
 of the afflicted, the rescuer of the fallen, the re- 
 buker, and thus in truth the friend, of those who 
 sinned through hypocrisy and pride. Yes, to the 
 Pharisee, as to the publican, Jesus came as a 
 friend ; if his language was stern, it was a sal 
 utary sternness, and the difference of his recep 
 tion by the two classes was not from partiality in 
 him, but from un worthiness on the part of those 
 who rejected him. But his immediate intercourse 
 with those around him, whether in healing their 
 outward infirmities, or ministering to their spirit 
 ual wants, constituted but a small part of the ben 
 efits he conferred upon mankind. Only by a 
 portion of the inhabitants of the small country of 
 Judea was his voice directly heard ; only to a 
 smaller number among them were his blessings of 
 outward healing wrought ; but to the millions of 
 
80 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 the civilized world, for age after age, has he ad 
 ministered comfort in sorrow, strength for duty, 
 salvation from sin and from its consequent mis 
 ery. Christ came with a brother s love, not to 
 those around him only, not to Israel alone, but to 
 the human race. 
 
 This reflection may enable us to enter in some 
 degree into the grandeur of our Saviour s thoughts. 
 He is standing by the couch of one whom he has 
 raised from death, the daughter of the ruler, Jai- 
 rus. The Apostles look on in awe at the display 
 of Divine power and benignity ; the parents of 
 the child are prostrate at his feet in thankfulness, 
 then turn to clasp their recovered treasure to their 
 breasts. Gratitude, love, and reverence fill the 
 hearts of all, and for what blessing ? That he 
 has rescued one child from the early grave to 
 which she was to be consigned in her innocence, 
 that he has recalled her to life, with its many tri 
 als, its certain temptations, its uncertain results to 
 human happiness and virtue. Amid the group 
 of the thankful ones stands the Saviour, receiv 
 ing benignantly their words of gratitude ; but are 
 his thoughts alone with them ? No ; his mental 
 sight surveys the thousands upon thousands then 
 unborn, who should, through that and other signs 
 of his Divine mission, be brought to faith in him, 
 
OUR BROTHER. 81 
 
 and through faith to blessedness here and hereaf 
 ter. As he hath raised this child, so, he feels, 
 shall his followers a company whom no man 
 can number be raised at the last day. As he 
 looks on the mother, weeping with joy at the res 
 toration of the child for whom she had been weep 
 ing more bitter tears, does there not come to him 
 the thought, how many a mother, through ages 
 yet to come, should find consolation in similar dis 
 tress, by the knowledge which he had brought of 
 the character of God and of the truth of a res 
 urrection ? 
 
 There is something peculiarly beautiful in the 
 guidance which a virtuous elder brother exercises 
 for the younger members of the family ; and it 
 deserves to be compared with the relation of our 
 Saviour to his disciples. There is in such a one 
 a blending of authority and gentleness ; a power, 
 whose origin is in love and wisdom ; a feeling 
 of sympathy, as well as of superiority. How tru 
 ly is this displayed in the intercourse between our 
 Lord and his disciples ! He was their compan 
 ion ; the journey which proved too wearisome for 
 his bodily powers had tasked theirs also ; at the 
 meal of which tliey partook, he broke the bread 
 and gave thanks ; some of them were with him 
 in his hour of glory on the Mount of Transfigura- 
 
82 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 tion, and in his hour of sorrow in Gethsemane. 
 But with this near companionship there was a 
 reverence deep in proportion. More than once it 
 withheld them from asking him the meaning of 
 words which had seemed mysterious. They 
 called him Master and Lord, and he could say to 
 them, with the calm dignity of conscious worth, 
 " Ye say well, for so I am." Thus were the two 
 constituents of the relation we have spoken of, as 
 existing between an older brother and the younger 
 members of the family, of whom he is the guide, 
 united in the intercourse of the disciples with 
 Christ, intimate companionship and affection, 
 with respectful deference. And thus, too, we, as 
 we meditate on Christ, draw near to him in spirit, 
 and perceive those qualities in his sacred character 
 that win an affection, a tender regard, resembling 
 that which binds us to our best-beloved earthly 
 brethren, while, at the same time, deep, heartfelt 
 reverence leads us to look up to him, as the holi 
 est of the sons of God, that God who is the 
 Father of us all. 
 
 Probably there is no scene in which Jesus 
 showed himself the brother of mankind more tru 
 ly, or in a more beautiful manner, than when he 
 returned to Judea, to the midst of his enemies, 
 and sought out the place where the body of Laz- 
 
OUR BROTHER. 83 
 
 arus had been laid. His personal affection to 
 the friend whom he had lost, and to the sis 
 ters, brought out in a clear light the tenderness of 
 his nature. He showed himself there truly and 
 in the highest sense a man, sympathizing with 
 human griefs, comforting human sorrows ; while 
 even in his tears there is nothing extravagant, 
 nothing inconsistent with the dignity of his sub 
 lime office. The consummation of that scene, 
 the raising of Lazarus from the dead, filled with 
 awe and gratitude the minds of the spectators ; 
 but to us, who see that great transaction through 
 the mists of time, the exhibition of true human 
 feeling, blended with heavenly faith, in his pre 
 ceding language and deportment, is more impres 
 sive than when we are told that he who was dead 
 came forth from the tomb. 
 
 Christ, then, is our brother. " He that sancti- 
 fieth and they who are sanctified are all of one " 
 Father ; " for which cause he is not ashamed 
 to call them brethren." This name, too, he 
 gave to those who should obey his word, on 
 that occasion when his relatives sought to hold 
 converse with him, in order, probably, to with 
 draw him from what they thought his too 
 great engrossment with the duties of his office. 
 " Who," said he, " is my mother, and who are 
 
84 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 my brethren ? And he looked round about upon 
 his disciples and said, Behold my mother and my 
 brethren ; for whosoever shall do the will of God 
 and keep it, the same is my brother, and sister, 
 and mother." 
 
 Where there is brotherhood, there is similarity 
 of nature and of powers ; the difference is in 
 degree, not in kind. Where, then, our brother 
 hath been, there we may follow. Temptations 
 which he met and vanquished, we may aspire to 
 vanquish also, in the strength imparted by that 
 God who is his Father, and ours. The glorious 
 crown which he won, transcendent in radiance as 
 it is, is not all unlike the celestial diadems which 
 are to wreathe the brows of those who follow 
 in the path he first trod. We are encouraged 
 to contemplate his character more nearly, when 
 we know that its perfections are such as our 
 minds are adequate to contemplate, such as 
 we ourselves may more or less nearly at length 
 resemble. 
 
 The thought carries us into the future world. 
 If even here below, we are, if we strive to do 
 God s will, recognized by Christ as his brethren, 
 how much more truly may that exalted relation 
 ship be the object of our anticipations, in connec 
 tion with the happiness of heaven ! There, we 
 
OUR BROTHER. 85 
 
 are told by one of our elder brethren, his Apos 
 tles, there we shall be like him, for we shall 
 see him as he is. Well may the result follow 
 from the nearer communion, the enlarged power 
 of vision and of understanding, with which we shall 
 then be favored. Then shall our present doubts 
 and differences, respecting his station in the uni 
 verse of his Father, be removed ; the knowledge 
 with regard to his character, which we can here 
 derive only from meditation on the accounts of 
 the Evangelists and Apostles, may there be in 
 creased by more full revelations. Then, too, the 
 fascinating enjoyments of earth, the temptations 
 of sin, will be removed ; and, these withdrawn, 
 we shall be more able to contemplate and admire 
 the most glorious of all objects, moral loveliness. 
 Then, to our purified and quickened sight shall be 
 displayed, far more than here on earth, the great 
 designs which Jesus had in view in what he did, 
 and taught, and suffered ; and we shall see the 
 depth and fulness of that love which gave itself 
 for us. As we behold, can we but strive for 
 resemblance ? Ours then shall be, if here we 
 patiently and humbly strive to do God s will, 
 through ages without end on high, the rap 
 ture of ever-increasing resemblance in charac 
 ter to our glorious model, while, with each ap- 
 
86 OTJR SAVIOUR. 
 
 proach, still closer and closer will be drawn the 
 band of that affection which unites our spirits 
 to their glorified Brother, the Son of God, the 
 Saviour of the world. 
 
CHRIST OUR EXAMPLE. 
 
 THERE is one peculiarity in our Saviour s moral 
 excellence, which, in the view of many, prevents 
 the full application of his example to our use. It 
 is this. The stainless virtue of the Saviour, we 
 are told, is accounted for by his peculiar connec 
 tion with the Father. Setting aside the question 
 which has been so much discussed, of his pos 
 sessing a share in the Divine nature, setting 
 aside, also, the doctrine of his pre existence, as an 
 archangelic being, he was, as man alone, priv 
 ileged with an intercourse with the Most High, 
 such as has been granted to no other among the 
 children of men. The intimacy of that inter 
 course is expressed in his own words, that " no 
 man knoweth the Son but the Father, and no man 
 knoweth the Father save the Son, and he to whom 
 the Son will reveal him " ; in the repeated as 
 sertions that he came from God and went to God, 
 
88 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 and the strong expression that he and the Father 
 are one. It is implied, too, in the miraculous 
 power which he exercised, and in the knowledge 
 he constantly evinced respecting the designs which 
 the Almighty intended to accomplish by his in 
 strumentality. How, it is asked, can a being thus 
 exalted be an example to us ? How can we, 
 weak, ignorant creatures, to whom the Almighty 
 has never directly revealed himself by vision or 
 by miracle, whose rebellious passions have never 
 been awed into silence by the manifest presence 
 of the Holiest One, be called to follow the steps 
 say rather the heavenward flight of this divine 
 ly privileged Son of God ? Would it not be as 
 reasonable to expect the savage to imitate the pro 
 found calculations of a Newton ? 
 
 How shall we meet this difficulty ? We cannot 
 but admit its apparent importance, yet we perceive 
 considerations of various kinds that may be urged 
 to prove that still the example of Jesus, lofty and 
 divine as it is, may rightly be held up before us 
 as the mark of our aspirations, and of our reason 
 able hope, too, for resemblance. 
 
 In the first place, let it be remembered that 
 there is a wide difference between the effort neces 
 sary to lead where the path is yet unknown, and 
 that which is required in order to follow. We ad- 
 
m- 
 
 OUR EXAMPLE. 89 
 
 mire the genius of the great navigator who first 
 crossed the ocean, and revealed to astonished Eu 
 rope the existence of this New World. But that 
 voyage once made, that knowledge once commu 
 nicated, was any remarkable genius needed in 
 each of the numerous adventurers who followed 
 the track of the world-finder ? The comparison 
 has been made of the Christian following his Mas 
 ter s example to the savage vainly called on to 
 imitate the scientific investigations of a Newton. 
 But the sublimest discoveries of Newton are now 
 familiar to thousands. So with the great subject 
 we would illustrate. Before the time of Christ, 
 revengeful feelings were indulged by those who 
 were regarded as the holiest men. David, whose 
 Psalms give proof of a heart full of the most 
 glowing love and devotion toward God, yet spared 
 not the bitterest imprecations against his own per 
 sonal enemies, and probably never thought that 
 any future age would see aught in such senti 
 ments to condemn. But listen to the Saviour on 
 the cross ! For the first time the world hears, in 
 stead of a curse upon successful enemies, a pray 
 er for them. " Father ! forgive them, for they 
 know not what they do." The glorious example 
 is set, and set once for all. The words once 
 
 heard, all perceive their sublimity, and many are 
 8* 
 
90 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 capable of sufficient elevation to take them upon 
 their lips and in their hearts. The very first fol 
 lower of the Saviour who was put to death in his 
 cause, the Martyr Stephen, could die with the 
 same sentiment on his tongue, " Lord, lay not 
 this sin to their charge " ; and hundreds, if not 
 thousands, since his time, have probably done 
 the same. So much easier is it to follow a glo 
 rious example than originally to exhibit it to the 
 world. 
 
 This reflection, we may remark, in passing, 
 while it encourages us to regard the imitation of 
 our Saviour as attainable, gives us a more exalted 
 idea of the perfections of our sacred model, and 
 a cheering view of the influence which his life 
 has already exerted on mankind. The example 
 of Christ has elevated human kind in general. 
 Some of the lessons he has taught us, we cannot 
 unlearn if we would. Those who are careless 
 about his religion, those who disbelieve it, are the 
 better for its instructions. Every one now knows 
 that the earth turns round on its axis ; every 
 one knows that it is noble to forgive injuries ; and, 
 as thousands who never heard of Galileo believe 
 the scientific truth he taught, so thousands are 
 profited by the teaching and example of Christ 
 who acknowledge no allegiance to his religion. 
 
OUR EXAMPLE. 91 
 
 Our second answer to the objection brought 
 against the practicableness of our Lord s example 
 is, that, sublime as was the intercourse with God 
 that he enjoyed, we possess something corre 
 sponding. Of our Saviour s intercourse with God, 
 some portion must apparently have related to the 
 truths he was to teach, and the conduct he was to 
 observe in connection with his high and peculiar 
 office. This extraordinary and sublime commu 
 nication of the Godhead may have been entirely 
 different from any thing which we share or of 
 which we have an idea. But not so was the com 
 munication between him and his Heavenly Fa 
 ther, which he enjoyed as an individual simply, 
 apart from his official character. We read of his 
 praying, and we, too, can pray. We read that 
 the spirit was given to him, not by measure ; 
 we know that it is bestowed on us, if we seek it 
 aright, though more sparingly. The difference, we 
 have reason to believe, is not of kind, but of de 
 gree, except so far as related to our Lord s public 
 duties. What was peculiar in his inspiration was 
 for a peculiar purpose ; but those Divine supports 
 on which rested his holy human character may, 
 to a great extent, be ours. 
 
 If, then, we are told that the example of Jesus 
 is too lofty for us to imitate, we reply, in his own 
 
92 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 words, " With men it is impossible, but not with 
 God." " Will not our Heavenly Father give his 
 good spirit unto them that ask him ? " 
 
 There is another consideration, which may be 
 brought to illustrate the application of our Sav 
 iour s example to ourselves. Though his advan 
 tages for attaining high virtue were far greater 
 than ours, his trials were also greater. This is in 
 conformity to the general laws of moral disci 
 pline. The more we attain, the more we have 
 still before us, as the traveller towards the heart 
 of a mountainous region sees each successive 
 ridge arise before him loftier than the one he has 
 just surmounted. " To whom much is given, of 
 him is much required:" It is this truth that equal 
 izes this world, as a state of probation for all, 
 whether outwardly more or less favored. It is this, 
 too, which makes it continue a state of probation 
 to us, however highly we may have attained. 
 Every new trust acquired has its corresponding 
 responsibleness ; every assurance that our con 
 duct gives to those around us of our worth, leads 
 them to look to us with firmer hope for the future ; 
 and, if at last we fail, renders our failure more 
 melancholy. If, then, we must admit that the di 
 rectness of our Saviour s intercourse with God, 
 and the knowledge which he possessed of his own 
 
OUR EXAMPLE. 93 
 
 wonderful destiny, were safeguards to his virtue 
 in which we cannot share, let us observe, also, the 
 circumstances which exposed that virtue to trials 
 never endured by us. The most obvious of these 
 circumstances were the danger which threatened 
 him from the steady opposition of his most in 
 fluential countrymen, a danger which he well 
 knew would finally become fatal ; the remorseless 
 and unprincipled nature, too, of that opposition, 
 which might have tempted another to forget his 
 own dignity and the claims of duty in the ex 
 citement of a personal contest ; the allurements, 
 too, of ambition, in the general wish of his hear 
 ers that he should become the champion, the de 
 liverer, of his people. But these temptations, this 
 last, especially, were immeasurably increased by 
 the character of the powers he possessed. The 
 authority over nature, which apparently was con 
 fided to others only in particular instances, was, if 
 we rightly understand the language of Scripture, 
 intrusted to him to an indefinite degree. The 
 most striking assurance of this is where he told 
 his followers, at the moment of his arrest, that he 
 could even then pray to his Father and receive 
 the aid of more than twelve legions of angels ; 
 adding, " But how then shall the Scriptures be 
 fulfilled, that thus it must be ? " His power, 
 
 n - m 
 
94 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 then, was discretionary. And, reasoning from 
 analogy, we may conclude that his choice of 
 means and plans of action was, to a great degree, 
 discretionary also. Unless we believe this, we 
 must regard him as less a free agent in his 
 mighty work than any uninspired reformer in 
 his humbler sphere. What a view of our Lord s 
 power, and of his self-denial in the use there 
 of, do these considerations present ! What a 
 view, also, of the greatness of the temptations 
 which he had to subdue ! He was made king 
 of the world, animate and inanimate. The 
 thrones of earth were at his command. Nay, 
 more, it needed not, in order to attain any degree 
 of earthly triumph, that he should renounce his 
 high office as teacher of mankind, or prove dis 
 tinctly unfaithful to his charge. Invested at dis 
 cretion with these most lofty powers, the question 
 was for him to decide how he was to use them for 
 the best interest of mankind. He had it in his 
 choice to bless the world as a conqueror, as a 
 peaceful though prosperous king, or as a victim. 
 He had the guidance, indeed, of those prophecies 
 which intimated the suffering that marked his 
 course, and of the spirit of God to illuminate and 
 strengthen. But with his power, and with the 
 choice left to himself how he should exert it, the 
 
OUR EXAMPLE. 
 
 temptation must have been strong indeed. He 
 was so aware of its strength, that he appears to 
 have felt, as with our less temptations we should 
 feel, that safety lay in not for one moment listen 
 ing to it. Hence the sternness of his rebuke to 
 that disciple who ventured to remonstrate on his 
 chosen course. " Get thee behind me, adversary, 
 thou art a cause of sin to me ; for thou savorest 
 not the things that be of God, but the things that 
 be of man." If, then, we feel that our Lord pos 
 sessed spiritual aids that we cannot share, let un 
 remember, also, that trials and temptations were 
 his, far beyond any that we are called to en 
 counter. 
 
 The same truth may be illustrated in a differ 
 ent manner. The higher man ascends in virtue, 
 the more his delicacy of conscience increases. 
 Things which at first appeared innocent to him, 
 now, regarded by a purer sight, are classed 
 among those which he must avoid. The aspira 
 tion of the mere novice in the Christian charac 
 ter may go no higher than to avoid dishonesty, 
 profane language, and other of the grosser and 
 more obvious faults. As he becomes more ad 
 vanced, he learns to appreciate the duty of reg 
 ulating his language by the rules of consideration 
 and kindness, and exercising watchfulness over 
 
96 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 his thoughts. Tims we find the case to be in the 
 imperfect degrees of virtue we are here privileged 
 to attain ; and we have reason to believe, that, in 
 those higher acquisitions which our Saviour made, 
 the law was still the same ; that the exquisite 
 delicacy of his conscience recognized distinctions 
 between right and wrong that are imperceptible 
 to us, and that thus the spiritual aid he received 
 was no more than proportioned to the occasion he 
 found for its use. 
 
 If the views we have taken be correct, our Ho 
 ly Redeemer, with all his supernatural powers, 
 was yet a fitting model for tempted mortals ; for 
 he, too, was tempted. He, too, was called to 
 wage a continual war against inducements that 
 were presented to him to withdraw him in some 
 degree from that sublime service which he under 
 took. But he resisted every temptation, chose 
 and retained the path of the sufferer when he 
 might have trod in that of universal empire, and 
 set to mankind the example of sinlessness, the 
 most perfect in holiness of all God s children. 
 We perceive, also, that, this example once set, to 
 follow it is a far easier task, as the humblest stu 
 dent may now tread in the path of Newton, and 
 the obscurest navigator can follow in the track of 
 Columbus. The example of Jesus, then, is prac- 
 
OUR EXAMPLE. 97 
 
 tical. It is not too high for man to aspire to be 
 like him. Nor is it perfect resemblance which 
 the justice of God, tempered by his mercy, de 
 mands of us. If the endeavour be sincere, the 
 spirit humble, and the faith devout, deficiencies 
 will be forgiven. With that high example, then, 
 in view, with so much to aid our path and to show 
 us the greater difficulties that beset our Saviour s, 
 shall we fail to strive for the prize of holiness 
 which he has shown us how to win ? Let us re 
 solve, like him, to serve our God and our race ; 
 like him, to suffer no earthly hope or fear to stand 
 between us and duty ; like him, to love and aid 
 even those by whom we have been unjustly treat 
 ed ; like him, even in the hour of life s parting 
 anguish, to bow meekly to the will of God, to 
 comfort the distress of friends, to relieve and sup 
 port the spirit of the trembling penitent, and pray 
 for our Father s blessing, even on our enemies. 
 
CHRIST S ANTICIPATIONS. 
 
 As our Redeemer drew near to the closing 
 scenes of his ministry, the thought of all that was 
 to come appears to have been constantly present 
 to his mind. Did the grateful Mary pour oint 
 ment on his head ? He referred the act, though 
 occurring in the hour of festivity, to his approach 
 ing burial. Did Gentile strangers seek an inter 
 view with him ? He replied to the disciple who 
 brought their request, " The hour is come that the 
 Son of man should be glorified," and then turned 
 from the thought of glory to that of death.* We 
 may enter more fully into the Saviour s feelings, 
 by taking a brief view of those objects which pre 
 sented themselves to his prophetic anticipation. 
 
 The event most distinctly before his mind was 
 death, from which, under nearly all circumstances, 
 
 * John xii. 3-7; 20-27. 
 
HIS ANTICIPATIONS. 99 
 
 human nature shrinks with loathing and dread. It 
 was death, too, in a form at once the most detested, 
 from the infamy it usually implied, and abhorred, 
 from the complication of bodily pain which at 
 tended it. Of all the torments which bloody man 
 has invented for his fellow-man, none, probably, 
 has implied more of suffering than crucifixion. It 
 was a lingering death ; though, in the case of our 
 Redeemer, its pangs were far shorter than in most 
 instances, yet with him the agony of the con 
 strained position, the lacerated flesh, the burning 
 limbs, the scorching thirst, endured about three 
 hours. Nor was this all ; previous to these 
 tortures, which drove out life, the sufferer bore 
 the infliction of the scourge, with the accompa 
 nying insults of a brutal soldiery, and then was 
 obliged to cariy the cross to the spot where the 
 execution was to take place. This burden was 
 so heavy, that the strength of our Saviour sank 
 under it, and his guards obliged a traveller whom 
 they met to aid in sustaining it. With all this im 
 mediate bodily suffering was united the peculiarly 
 disgraceful nature of the punishment. The cross 
 is to us a hallowed emblem ; but when our Sav 
 iour endured its weight and its tortures, the cross 
 was known but as the most disgraceful and most 
 painful means of inflicting the punishment of 
 
100 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 death. It was reserved for the vilest of malefac 
 tors, and for slaves. Such was the death to which 
 the holy Son of God submitted. Such was the 
 fate he had in view, when, steadfastly banishing 
 every weaker thought, he exclaimed, " Father, 
 glorify thy name ! " 
 
 His was no sudden act of self-devotion, made 
 in a moment of excitement, when there was not 
 time to appreciate the full greatness of the suffer 
 ings to be endured. No. From the first, the 
 dark future was placed before his mind. But his 
 choice was deliberately and unchangeably made. 
 He did not relax the sternness of his denunciations 
 against the hypocrite, though, while denouncing 
 him, he well knew the implacable and fatal en 
 mity he was exciting against himself. But his 
 reliance was on stronger principles, the sense 
 of duty, the love of mankind, the love of God. 
 
 And to the pains of death, to the tortures of an 
 ticipation, another sting was added, by the thought 
 to whose enmity his death was owing. The feel 
 ing of patriotism had its place, with every other 
 worthy and exalted emotion, in our Saviour s 
 breast. He loved his country, Israel, the cho- 
 sen land and the chosen people of God. He 
 loved Jerusalem, the city of the Great King, the 
 place where only, throughout the world, a temple 
 
HIS ANTICIPATIONS. 101 
 
 rose and an altar flamed to the worship of the 
 One True God. He loved his fellow-country 
 men ; he would willingly have gathered them be 
 neath his protection, and beneath the forgiving 
 mercy and love of his Father. He wept at the 
 thought of their approaching calamities. He was 
 their brother according to the flesh. He was the 
 lineal descendant of their ancient kings, of Da 
 vid and Solomon, whose reigns had been the pe 
 riod of their highest political and spiritual glory. 
 He was the Messiah whom they had so long 
 expected, and in whom they looked to see that 
 ancient glory restored. And he had come to 
 accomplish the prophecies, to fulfil the hopes of 
 his people, to shed on Israel and on the world the 
 blessings of a true and pure religion. Now he 
 was to die ; and who were to be the authors of his 
 death ? Those very men whom he had come to 
 bless and to save. It was Israel that had rejected 
 her Saviour. It was Jerusalem that clamored for 
 the crucifixion of her king. It was they for whose 
 good he had labored and prayed, over whose ob 
 duracy he had wept, they whom he loved as 
 fellow-countrymen, as brethren, as the subjects of 
 that earthly sceptre which he might have claimed, 
 and of that higher authority which belonged to 
 him as the Anointed Messenger of God, it was 
 
102 
 
 OUK SAVIOUR. 
 
 these to whom he owed his death. The feeling 
 of this added acuteness to his suffering. He saw 
 their ingratitude, their obstinacy. He felt deeply 
 the pang inflicted by this return of evil for the 
 good he had bestowed. But even this conquered 
 not his love of country. On the cross itself he 
 prayed for the forgiveness of his countrymen, on 
 the ground of ignorance. " Father, forgive them, 
 for they know not what they do." The very 
 knowledge how fearfully Providence would avenge 
 his death, added another pang to his sufferings. 
 It was with no exultation in his tone, that he ex 
 claimed, " Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for 
 me, but weep for yourselves and for your chil 
 dren." He saw, in prophetic anticipation, the 
 scenes which were shortly to take place. He saw 
 the vine-covered hills and smiling plains of his 
 beloved Galilee desolated with fire, and the march 
 of invading armies. He beheld her flourishing 
 and populous cities levelled with the ground, and 
 the placid and beautiful lake which had been hon 
 ored by his miracles and his instructions dyed 
 with the blood of thousands massacred on its 
 banks. He saw the royal and holy city, Jerusa 
 lem, compassed with armies, and its own inhab 
 itants, more fierce than their invaders, turning 
 their hands against each other ; without, instead 
 
HIS ANTICIPATIONS. 103 
 
 of the three crosses on Calvary, thousands, on 
 which the exasperated Roman executed his pris 
 oners ; within, the combined ravages of discord, 
 plague, and famine, the mother herself, as we 
 are told, in some instances sustaining life upon the 
 flesh of her own offspring. He saw the Temple, 
 the sacred spot where God s honor dwelt, wrapped 
 in flames, while, amid bursting arches and falling 
 porticos, the battle still raged on .between the 
 conquering Roman and the perishing remnant of 
 Judah. Thirty-eight years after the death of Je 
 sus these things took place. They were the con 
 sequences of a war, in which the nation never 
 would and never could have engaged, had they 
 adopted the peaceful religion of Jesus for their 
 guide. These were, then, in God s providence, 
 the awful consequences attendant on their rejec 
 tion of him. To these he looked forward ; the 
 anticipation of these miseries of his country added 
 bitterness to the cup of suffering he was compelled 
 to taste. Even for the guilty he could pray ; and 
 he knew how, in a season of such universal ca 
 lamity, the innocent would be involved with the 
 guilty in a common doom. 
 
 And how must his heart have sunk within him 
 as he thought of what his disciples, his friends, 
 were to endure ! He left them, those who had 
 
104 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 been the companions of his labors, those who had 
 loved and honored him, and over whom he had 
 watched with answering love ; the enthusiastic Pe 
 ter, the mild and affectionate John, and every oth 
 er member of that small but endeared company, 
 he left them, and to what ? To a course of use 
 fulness, indeed, and of glory, but a course of suf 
 fering ; to the enmity alike of their own country 
 men and of the Gentiles ; to temptations by which 
 their strength would be painfully tried, and be 
 neath which he knew that sometimes and for a 
 season it would fail. We can imagine the mourn- 
 fulness in his tone, as he said to Peter, " Verily 
 I say unto thee, thou shalt deny me thrice " ; as 
 he said to the disciples, " All ye shall be offended 
 because of me this night." But he foresaw that 
 these temptations, these failures of strength, would 
 be but transitoiy. He trusted, he knew by the 
 intercourse of his spirit with that of God, that from 
 every failure his Apostles would rise with renewed 
 vigor. Still more sad, then, may have been his 
 anticipation of the external calamities they would 
 be called to experience. He foresaw the painful 
 journeys they must undertake, the contumely, the 
 oppression, the tumultuous assaults, to which they 
 must be subjected. He saw the hand of Herod 
 stretched out to vex the Church, and James, the 
 
HIS ANTICIPATIONS. 105 
 
 brother of John, falling a victim to his fury. He 
 looked farther along the stream of time, and saw 
 the death of one glorious martyr after another ; 
 the crucifixion of Peter, the beheading of Paul ; 
 the still fiercer rage which was kindled in the 
 breasts of heathen rulers, as they saw their altars 
 gradually deserted, and their subjects embracing 
 the cause of the Redeemer. Persecution after 
 persecution he foresaw ; he declared that it would 
 be so, when he said, " I came not to send peace 
 on earth, but a sword." And darker still than 
 the prospect of the sufferings his disciples would 
 endure must have been that of the crimes they 
 would commit. How much more keenly must 
 the iron have entered into his soul, as he saw his 
 own Church rent in sunder, and its respective par 
 ties persecuting one another even to the death ! 
 Such were the alternating causes of joy and sor 
 row, which crowded into our Saviour s breast as 
 he contemplated the effects of his death, in the 
 progress of his religion in the world. 
 
 He had felt as a friend, he was called to feel 
 also as a son. That earliest friend, his mother, 
 whose parental care his blameless infancy and his 
 holy youth had repaid with a fulness of love and 
 happiness such as never fell to the lot of any par 
 ent but her, that mother, worthy of the high 
 
106 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 honor of giving birth to the Redeemer, he was to 
 leave, mourning and desolate. The thought of 
 her found attention amidst his dying agonies on 
 the cross ; he commended her, in almost his latest 
 breath, to the care of the disciple whom he loved, 
 and received comfort in the knowledge that his 
 request would be well complied with. " From that 
 hour that disciple took her unto his own home." 
 
 But the prospect before the mind of our Saviour 
 was not altogether gloomy. Above the dark pic 
 ture of the ruin of his country, and the sufferings 
 of his friends, appeared the radiant dawn of pure 
 religion upon the world. Our Lord knew the 
 greatness of the cause in which he was to die. 
 He knew that through his death that cause would 
 triumph. His prophetic eye glanced over the 
 course of his Apostles, their trials, their exertions, 
 their success. He surveyed in spirit the extension 
 of his religion from city to city, from land to land, 
 its triumph over heathenism, its establishment 
 through the world. We may believe, too, that his 
 spirit was cheered by the assurance of that high 
 intercourse which he afterwards maintained with 
 his Apostles. He foresaw, it may be, that, though 
 removed from them in bodily presence, it would 
 still be granted him to influence them by an agen 
 cy exerted upon their minds, and at times to re- 
 
HIS ANTICIPATIONS. 107 
 
 veal himself, as he did to Stephen and to Paul, by 
 miraculous visions. High and rapturous must 
 have been the contemplation of his approaching 
 glory ; higher and more rapturous to his holy 
 mind, because with his own was united the glory 
 of his Father. Wherever his doctrine should pre 
 vail, there he knew that the God from whom he 
 came would be worshipped in spirit and in truth. 
 With what emotions, then, of filial joy in the ad 
 vancement of his Father s honor, with what be 
 nevolent exultation in the good of mankind, must 
 he have looked forward to the time when the pure 
 and blessed religion introduced by him should be 
 extended through the earth, when the throne 
 of the All-Holy should be established in every 
 heart! 
 
 For whom did Jesus die ? For mankind. For 
 those whom he had not seen. For the unworthy, 
 as well as for the virtuous. For us. Yes ; we 
 are of the number of those for whom that pre 
 cious blood was shed. We are among those over 
 whom his prophetic vision passed, as among the 
 thousands of millions who should receive through 
 him the glad tidings of salvation. To us, then, 
 comes the call of gratitude for what he suffered. 
 " Greater love hath no man than this, that a man 
 lay down his life for his friends." 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 OUR Saviour possessed human nature in its per 
 fection. Every faculty, every perception, was 
 perfect ; and, not less than others, those percep 
 tions which recognize the presence of painful and 
 terrifying objects. It was in the garden of Geth- 
 semane that this portion of his mental constitution 
 was called to its most agonizing trial. He felt 
 there as man must ever feel when, in the stillness 
 of midnight and solitude, in communion only with 
 God and his own heart, he meditates on the ap 
 proach of a painful and seemingly disgraceful 
 death. Many have thought the emotion which 
 the Saviour now exhibited too great to be ac 
 counted for from this cause alone. They have 
 supposed that, at this awful hour, he endured some 
 terrors connected more mysteriously with the 
 high objects of his mission ; that it was now 
 that he felt the burden of that vast sum of hu- 
 
IN GETHSEMANE. 109 
 
 man transgression, for which his death was to 
 make atonement before God ; that the terrors 
 of the powers of hell were around him, and awful 
 suggestions harassing his soul, while the favoring 
 countenance of God no longer beamed upon him, 
 but instead thereof he saw himself the object, for 
 a season, of the Divine displeasure, which was 
 transferred to him from the human race. We 
 cannot admit the correctness of these views in 
 their full latitude, while, instead of fiends torment 
 ing him, we read that there appeared unto him an 
 angel strengthening him, and while we feel that, 
 instead of then experiencing the Divine displeas 
 ure, the holy Jesus can at no period of his course 
 have received more fully the approbation of the 
 Most High than he did amid the agony, the hu 
 miliation, the self-sacrifice, of that moment. And 
 yet it may well be believed that the thought 
 which came upon him, of the immense impor 
 tance of that self-offering which he was then pre 
 senting, had something in it calculated to over 
 whelm the soul. He felt that on his endurance 
 depended consequences not to be limited by the 
 lapse of ages. The human race, for countless 
 unborn generations, were to be sharers in the joy 
 that he should communicate ; and what if, in the 
 
 last awful hour, his strength were to fail, and the 
 10 
 
110 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 perfect example of patient suffering were to be 
 sullied by a single blot ? Is it too much to im 
 agine that he, who all admit was perfect man, 
 he who " was tempted in all points as we are," 
 felt this supposition pass through his mind, and 
 shrunk and trembled under his great responsible- 
 ness, as he thought of the possibility that he 
 might not sustain it ? Does it not seem as if 
 some mental struggle of this kind was indicated 
 in the words he used to his disciples ? " Pray 
 that ye enter not into temptation ; the spirit truly 
 is willing, but the flesh is weak." Did he mean 
 to suggest to them a warning, from the fearful 
 nature of that trial, which even he had scarcely 
 been able to bear ? 
 
 But whatever we may fancy, who shall pretend 
 to fathom thoroughly the feelings which passed 
 through that pure and glorious soul in its hour of 
 deepest affliction ? Their result was expressed 
 in the prayer, " Father, if thou be willing, let 
 this cup pass from me ; nevertheless, not my will, 
 but thine, be done." The first sentence of that 
 prayer was the expression of those natural feel 
 ings which have been commented on. We may 
 view it as something more ; as a last solemn act of 
 humility, in laying down before the throne of his 
 Father his mediatorial crown, divesting himself of 
 
IN GETHSEMANE. Ill 
 
 the high office of Redeemer of the world, so far 
 as he might consistently with duty, that he might 
 assume it again, not of his own will, but of the 
 will of his Father, not depending on his own 
 strength, but on the strength of his Father. If 
 we may venture to express the sentiments of that 
 prayer more at large, thus might we interpret it. 
 " Father, thou hast committed to me a task of 
 fearful magnitude ; I have assumed it in obedience 
 to thy will ; and now I stand about to enter on 
 that scene of insult and suffering, before which 
 my soul sinks in utter dismay. How shall I en 
 dure that which is before me ? How shall I pass 
 through this more than fiery trial, without obscur 
 ing, by any deficiency, the brightness of that ex 
 ample which thy chosen one must leave to his 
 disciples through all ages to come ? O Father, 
 the spirit is willing to obey thee, but the flesh, the 
 love of life, and every feeling which thou hast im 
 pressed on this human nature, these shrink from 
 that awful duty ; and I shrink, too, from that worse 
 fear, that I may possibly fail in its full discharge. 
 Father ! if it be thy will, I would lay down before 
 thee the office thou hast given. But thy will, not 
 mine, be done." 
 
 " Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt." 
 Here was at length the triumph of faith, and love 
 
 -n 
 
112 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 to God and man, and glorious self-devotion, over 
 every doubt and every fear. This language 
 was not a mere profession, without corresponding 
 meaning. It was not a form of words, adopted 
 from distant antiquity, or even from any single 
 previous example, to express a resignation which 
 was not felt. It conveyed the sincere and entire 
 submission of his own will to the will of God. 
 And in that submission the Saviour found a re 
 newal of strength and peace. The worst strug 
 gle was now ove?, the bitterness of death was 
 in a great measure past ; the patient Son of God 
 was prepared to endure, in the strength of his 
 Father, what was yet to be laid upon him of suf 
 fering, abuse, and death. 
 
THE ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION. 
 
 THE narrative of the sufferings of Jesus has 
 been a thousand times repeated, but it has not 
 lost, and can never lose, its interest to his follow 
 ers. Let us trace, step by step, the successive in 
 cidents of those affecting scenes. 
 
 From the agonizing struggle, and the prayer 
 of self-renunciation, our Lord returned to his 
 disciples, whom he had left to await him at a 
 short distance. He found them, we are told, 
 " sleeping for sorrow." Had they been aware, 
 like him, of the immediate approach of danger, 
 excitement would have banished sleep ; but theirs 
 was only the saddened feeling produced by wit 
 nessing in him a grief, the cause of which they 
 could but imperfectly understand, and this feeling 
 rather aided than resisted the influence of fatigue 
 and darkness. He aroused them, saying that the 
 
 hour of his betrayal had come. His words were 
 10* 
 
M 
 
 114 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 fulfilled while yet upon his lips. A multitude 
 approached, led by Judas, who knew the place to 
 which his Master was accustomed to resort. The 
 traitor designates his Lord by a kiss, the abused 
 mark of love and confidence ; and the Saviour 
 himself comes forward and declares that he is the 
 man they seek. The soldiers, though awed at 
 first by the calm majesty of his demeanour, make 
 him their prisoner. Peter attempts a vain resist 
 ance, but the Saviour forbids it, and performs, even 
 in that moment, a miracle of mercy, healing the 
 wound which his ardent disciple had made. He 
 desires of his captors, in surrendering himself, 
 that those with him should not be detainer 1 Self- 
 collected at that trying moment, he remembers 
 and fulfils every duty. He notices, too, with deep 
 feeling, those circumstances of his capture which 
 were most revolting, the treacherous kiss, and 
 the arrest by an armed multitude at night, when 
 ample opportunity had been given for the sum 
 mons of a legal officer. " Judas, betrayest thou 
 the Son of Man with a kiss ? " " Be ye come 
 out against a thief, with swords and staves ? 
 When I was daily with you in the temple, ye 
 stretched forth no hands against me ; but this is 
 your hour, and the power of darkness." 
 
 He was taken first, probably by previous orders 
 
THE TRIAL. 115 
 
 from Caiaphas, to the house of Annas, the father- 
 in-law and predecessor of the high-priest. An 
 nas, it is conjectured, could not, on account of 
 age, be present with those assembled in the house 
 of Caiaphas ; and the sanction of his authority 
 was desired for the course which they intended to 
 pursue. However this may have been, the aged 
 magistrate appears to have at once referred the 
 case to his son-in-law, Caiaphas, the actual pos 
 sessor of the high priesthood ; and to his house 
 Jesus was next conducted. 
 
 Here he was examined, though apparently in 
 an irregular manner, the formal meeting of the 
 Sanhedrim not taking place till the morning. In 
 the mean time, however, witnesses were sought and 
 heard against him, and he was subjected to insult 
 and abuse. It was during this interval, too, that 
 his ear caught, from the outer room, the excited 
 tones of a well-known voice, the voice of the most 
 ardent of his friends, denying with oaths that he 
 knew him. This he had himself foretold, yet the 
 fulfilment added bitterness to the cup of misery. 
 
 In the morning the council assembled and 
 passed their sentence ; but the power was not 
 theirs to carry it into effect. That power resided 
 with the Roman governor, and to him the prisoner 
 was now led. 
 
-II 
 
 116 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 Brought before Pilate, the Saviour is questioned 
 upon the charge made against him, of aspiring to 
 the name and authority of a king. He asserts, in 
 reply, his claim to that title, but qualifies the dec 
 laration with the words, " My kingdom is not of 
 this world." " To this end was I born, and for 
 this cause came I into the world, that I should 
 bear witness unto the truth." " What is truth ? " 
 exclaims the governor, apparently with contemp 
 tuous indifference. But he appears to have been 
 satisfied, by the answers of Jesus, that he was 
 neither a guilty nor a dangerous person. The 
 Jews, however, are clamorous for his death, and 
 Pilate avails himself of the suggestion that the 
 prisoner belonged to Galilee, to refer the case to 
 Herod, prince of that province, then on a visit to 
 Jerusalem. By Herod he is sent back to Pilate, 
 arrayed in a purple robe, in mockery of his sup 
 posed pretensions to royalty. The better feelings 
 of the governor struggle long against his timid and 
 unprincipled policy, and that very struggle does 
 but increase the torture of the Divine sufferer, 
 who is scourged and crowned with thorns, that the 
 compassion of the people may be excited in his 
 favor. At length Pilate yields, and the Saviour is 
 led forth, bearing his cross. As he passes along, 
 nearly fainting under his dreadful burden, a 
 
THE CRUCIFIXION. 117 
 
 traveller (we may imagine) stops and regards the 
 victim with an eye of pity, or utters some excla 
 mation that betrays his feelings. He is seized 
 by the soldiers, and compelled to aid in bearing 
 the cross. 
 
 They move on. But now the company who 
 trod that which should for ever after be called the 
 Dolorous Way, was swelled by the accession of 
 the friends of Jesus, and the women who, to the 
 lasting glory of their sex, had thus far honored 
 and now bewailed him. To these he addresses 
 a few words, of awfully prophetic import, referring, 
 but not vindictively, to the miseries that were to 
 come upon his country from those Romans by 
 whose hands he was now to die. On reaching 
 Calvary, " they gave him vinegar to drink, min 
 gled with gall." This was a stupefying draught, 
 provided by the rude mercy of the age, to dimin 
 ish the pangs of that fearful mode of execution. 
 But " when he had tasted thereof, he would not 
 drink." No cloud must be upon his faculties, to 
 obscure the vision of the opening heaven, and 
 dim the brightness of his dying example. 
 
 His first words when on the cross, and in the 
 recent agony of his wounds, were, " Father ! for 
 give them; for they know not what they do." 
 Is it too much to say that these are the most 
 
118 OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 sublime words ever uttered by man ? Jesus had 
 taught the lesson, " Love your enemies," and men 
 had marvelled, as they marvel now, that he should 
 deliver a precept so impossible to observe. He 
 now showed that the glorious soul that could con 
 ceive the law was capable also of its fulfilment. 
 
 Again he speaks ; and they are words of com 
 fort to the penitent offender at his side. 
 
 Again ; and it is with the care of a son for the 
 mother who never till now had known the mean 
 ing of those words, " Yea, a sword shall pierce 
 through thine own soul also." Mary ! " highly 
 favored among women!" were the angelic 
 announcement, the early signs and wonders, the 
 sinless childhold, the holy youth, the divine matu 
 rity, all to end in this ? Retain thy faith, mother 
 of the Saviour ! He remembers thee in this hour 
 of his own agony and thine ; think not, then, that 
 he can be abandoned by his God and Father ! 
 
 And yet what means that startling cry ? " My 
 God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ? " 
 Fear not ; those words from his lips no more im 
 ply distrust, than they did in the earnest pleading 
 of that psalm which the sufferer now applies to 
 his own condition. 
 
 The agony of the cross produces its usual 
 effect, excessive thirst ; and Jesus, who had never 
 
THE CRUCIFIXION. 119 
 
 taught, like the Stoics, that there was virtue in 
 an affected insensibility to pain, expresses that 
 feeling. It is relieved by tasting, not of the 
 drugged beverage offered him before, but of vine 
 gar alone. 
 
 " When Jesus therefore had received the vine 
 gar, he said, It is finished ; and he bowed his 
 head, and gave up the ghost." 
 
 -Ji 
 
PART III. 
 THE COMMUNICANT 
 
 11 
 
PART III. 
 THE COMMUNICANT. 
 
 SELF-EXAMINATION. 
 
 I AM now about to unite with my fellow-disci 
 ples in the act of commemorating our Redeemer. 
 Let me consider the meaning of what I do, and, 
 as the Apostle has directed, " examine myself," 
 before I " eat of that bread and drink of that 
 cup." 
 
 It is an ordinance of profession. Has my con 
 duct been worthy of the religion I profess ? Fa 
 ther, who knowest my sins, grant that I may see 
 them in their true light, may turn from them, and 
 hereafter walk more worthily before thee ! 
 
 It is an ordinance of commemoration. Have I 
 kept in memory my Saviour s law, and the ex 
 ample by which it was illustrated ? Has the light 
 of his character been reflected from mine ? 
 
124 THE COMMUNICANT. 
 
 It is an ordinance of love to him. It reminds 
 me of his love to mankind, displayed in his death. 
 How shall I best manifest my own in return ? 
 He hath said, " If ye love me, keep my command 
 ments." 
 
 It is a communion, a feast of brotherly love. 
 " By this shall all men know that ye are my dis 
 ciples, if ye have love one to another." Have I 
 exhibited, not to man alone, but to God, this mark 
 of a true discipleship ? 
 
 It is an occasion for grateful feeling to that God 
 who sent Jesus on earth. Is my gratitude mani 
 fested by my life ? Have I " ceased to do evil " ? 
 Do I " learn to do well " ? 
 
 Let me take for my guidance, in self-examina 
 tion, the Ten Commandments of God s ancient 
 law, applying them, as extended and illustrated 
 by the Gospel, to my own conduct and spiritual 
 condition. 
 
 I. Have I any " other gods " before Jehovah ? 
 Is there any object to whose service I have bound 
 myself more than to his ? Is eagerness for wealth 
 or distinction leading me away from duty ? Have 
 I been led into idolatry by the warmth of my af 
 fections, or do I hold even my dearest treasures 
 in humility, as subject to His will who gave them, 
 and can resume ? 
 
8 
 
 SELF-EXAMINATION. 125 
 
 II. Do I serve God after the right manner, or 
 as they of old time worshipped him by unworthy 
 emblems, do I render to him such tribute as can 
 not be pleasing in his sight ? Does the feeling of 
 sectarian bitterness mingle with my zeal for truth, 
 or is my worship tainted with formalism, hypocri 
 sy, or superstition ? 
 
 III. Have I guarded my lips against irreverence 
 of expression ? Do I suppress, as it rises in my 
 thoughts, the misapplication of Scripture, and 
 every word that may diminish the regard of 
 others, or my own, for sacred things ? Am I 
 faithful, in letter and in spirit, to every vow that 
 I have taken, every obligation that I have assumed 
 in the sight of God ? 
 
 IV. Do I keep holy the Lord s day, not only 
 by refraining from common labor, but by endeav 
 ouring to derive, for myself and others, due relig 
 ious improvement from its blessed privileges ? 
 
 V. Do I discharge to those of my own family 
 the obligations which I owe to them, not " grudg 
 ingly, as of necessity," but from the fulness of 
 the heart? In the relations I sustain as son or 
 daughter, brother or sister, husband or wife, fa 
 ther or mother, and in whatever other position I 
 may be placed, how does conscience bear witness 
 
 to my faithfulness ? 
 11* 
 
126 THE COMMUNICANT. 
 
 VT. Have I sought to do injury, or wished evil, 
 to any ? Have I encouraged quarrels, or striven 
 to appease them ? Has my influence been, as far 
 as I could exert any, on the side of peace and of 
 the welfare of mankind ? 
 
 VII. Have I been pure, not only in outward 
 deed, but in word and thought ? Do I exercise a 
 rigid self-control, and refuse to indulge unduly 
 any appetite or passion ? 
 
 VIII. Do I sacredly respect the rights of others ? 
 Is my hand pure from all dishonest gains ? Do I 
 render unto all their dues, not only as required by 
 law, but by the strictest judgment of conscience ? 
 
 IX. Am I careful to guard against the sin of 
 slander? Do I avoid the repetition of reports 
 that are unfavorable to others, and discourage the 
 propensity to circulate such reports where I per 
 ceive it in those around me ? Do I ever, for con 
 venience, or from a love of exaggeration, deviate 
 from the plain rule of truth ? 
 
 X. Am I contented with the blessings God has 
 given, or is mine a restless, repining, envious 
 spirit? Can I bear to see myself excelled by 
 others ? Do I covet my neighbour s goods, or see 
 with pleasure the enjoyments which others receive 
 from the Benefactor of all ? 
 
 To these questions, derived from the ancient 
 
 n 
 
SELF-EXAMINATION. 127 
 
 Law, let me add the thoughts suggested by the 
 more comprehensive summary of the Saviour. 
 Matthew xxii. 37-40. 
 
 Is it my earnest wish to love the Lord my God 
 with all my heart, and with all my soul, and 
 with all my mind ? Have I attained to any ade 
 quate degree of this holy feeling? How may I 
 advance therein ? 
 
 Do I love my neighbour as myself ? Does the 
 desire of doing good to others spring up within 
 me as an ever-flowing fountain ? Does my life, 
 in all the relations I sustain, as a member of a 
 family, as a citizen, as a man, bear witness to the 
 existence of this principle within ? 
 
 Do I observe the golden rule, doing unto others 
 as I would that they should do unto me ? 
 
 On these questions let me pause, and bring to 
 memory my past conduct, especially of late. 
 Then, having discerned wherein I am most defi 
 cient, let me address to my Heavenly Father a 
 prayer of penitence. 
 
PRAYER AFTER SELF-EXAMINATION. 
 
 O THOU who art of purer sight than to behold 
 iniquity ! how shall I come before thee, conscious 
 as I am of many departures from thy law ? As 
 I survey my own past conduct, and compare it 
 with the requirements of thy Divine commands, 
 I feel that I have indeed come short of that obe 
 dience which it was my duty to render. I have 
 yielded to unworthy motives ; I have neglected 
 duty ; I have walked in forbidden paths. O God ! 
 grant me to feel, still more, my own unworthiness. 
 Yet, O Thou whose property it is always to have 
 mercy ! grant, I pray thee, thy Divine forgiveness. 
 I repent of my sins, and resolve to use my best 
 endeavours to avoid them in future. May my re 
 pentance be accepted before thee, for I desire to 
 present it in all lowliness and sincerity of heart. 
 Do thou, O God ! by the aid of thy holy spirit, 
 render it more worthy of thine own acceptance. 
 
PRAYER AFTER SELF-EXAMINATION. 129 
 
 May it be deep and permanent. May I be aided 
 by thee, in the efforts on which I now resolve, to 
 amend my outward conduct, to keep a guard over 
 my lips, to restrain even my thoughts from evil. 
 For my past offences, what satisfaction can I 
 bring ? I can but implore, in deep humility, thy 
 forgiveness, and plead the promises of thy love, 
 declared by Jesus Christ our Saviour. In the holy 
 name of him who lived and died for man, I pre 
 sent my prayer unto thee, O Father ! ascribing to 
 thee infinite power, wisdom, love, and mercy. 
 Amen. 
 
PKAYER BEFORE COMMUNION. 
 
 O GOD, our Heavenly Father! thou didst, in 
 infinite love, send thy well-beloved Son, Jesus 
 Christ, our Lord, to lead mankind back from the 
 mazes of sin, to the knowledge and love of thee, 
 and the peace that is found in obedience. I thank 
 thee for the precious blessings conferred through 
 him. I thank thee for thy mercy to a world that 
 lay in darkness and in sin. With deeper emo 
 tions, O God, do I bless thee for thy mercy dis 
 played toward myself individually. Thanks to 
 thee, O Father ! that I have had my birth and 
 education in a Christian land ; thanks for the in 
 structions with which I have been favored, whether 
 in early youth or in riper years, that have con 
 tributed to keep me from sin, and to lead me in 
 the way in which I ought to tread. Thanks to 
 thee for the means of grace afforded me, in the 
 privileges of public worship, and in the ordinances 
 
PRAYER BEFORE COMMUNION. 131 
 
 of the Gospel. With shame do I confess that my 
 conduct has not been conformable, in all respects, 
 to the advantages I have enjoyed. It is not of 
 my own merit, but of thy mercy, that I am per 
 mitted to draw nigh to thee, and encouraged to 
 share in the memorials of my Saviour s dying 
 love. O God ! may it be with deep humility that 
 I unite with my fellow-believers in this affecting 
 ordinance. May no feeling of spiritual pride 
 arise within me, but rather may I realize that new 
 and increased effort is needed, that I may hold 
 my profession unstained and be steadfast unto the 
 end. And for those with whom I unite, I pray 
 as for myself. Aid us, O God ! to contemplate 
 with heartfelt gratitude the self-sacrificing love 
 of our holy Redeemer. Aid us to meditate upon 
 the perfections of his character, and to derive 
 thence light to discern, and strength to pursue, 
 our own path of duty. And unto thee, O God ! 
 as an humble disciple of that blessed Saviour, do 
 I ascribe the kingdom, the power, and the glory, 
 for ever. Amen. 
 
PRAYER BEFORE COMMUNION, IN 
 PROSPERITY. 
 
 O GOD, Bestower of every blessing ! I give 
 thanks to thee for the love that has crowned my 
 days. Thy mercies are more than I can number. 
 Let my heart with gratitude acknowledge them ; 
 let my life show forth that this gratitude is sincere. 
 And now, O Father, as I am about to " take the 
 cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the 
 Lord," to "pay my vows unto thee, in the 
 presence of thy people," grant that I may bring 
 to the hallowed ordinance those thoughts and feel 
 ings that are appropriate. Keep far from me 
 that pride which would ascribe to myself the 
 blessings I enjoy. I have nothing but what I 
 have received from thee ; whether health, or 
 friends, or possessions, all are thine. May I feel 
 this ever, and now especially, as I commemorate 
 him who, " though he were rich, yet for our sakes 
 
PRAYER IN PROSPERITY. 133 
 
 became poor, that we through his poverty might 
 be rich." May I so far as is in my power imi 
 tate his holy example, using the means thou hast 
 bestowed upon me, not for my own good only, 
 but as thy steward, for the good of those around 
 me. Keep me, Lord, safe from the trials which 
 beset a prosperous condition ; from pride and van 
 ity, from the love of selfish indulgence, from neg 
 lect of the claims of my fellow-beings, from in 
 difference to their sufferings, from forgetfulness of 
 thyself, and disregard of thy holy law. And 
 thine for ever, O God, be praise and glory in the 
 highest, in the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord. 
 Amen. 
 
 12 
 
PRAYER BEFORE COMMUNION, IN 
 ADVERSITY. 
 
 THOU givest, O God ! life and all life s bless 
 ings; and when thou dost resume them, still 
 blessed be thy holy name for ever ! I come, O 
 Father ! bowed low by affliction, to discharge my 
 duty, and seek for comfort and strength, in com 
 memorating him who tasted the cup of sorrow for 
 my sake. O, grant me grace to contemplate 
 aright the perfections of his character; to feel 
 that, if he so meekly and patiently endured, it be 
 comes me, as his disciple, to bear thy holy will 
 without a murmur. May I be encouraged by the 
 thought, that, as thy Divine purposes for man s 
 redemption were wrought out by the sufferings of 
 Jesus, so every burden that we are called to bear 
 will become, if patiently endured, the means for 
 the accomplishment of some wise and gracious 
 design. Send me, O Lord ! if it seem fit to thee, 
 
23 
 
 PRAYER IN ADVERSITY. 135 
 
 relief from the trial under which I am placed. 
 But more fervently would I pray thee, increase 
 my faith and my patience to bear it. I bless thee 
 for whatever circumstances of relief or comfort 
 thou hast afforded, and for the many mercies to 
 which the course of my life bears witness. En 
 able me more fully to realize thy goodness, in the 
 past and in the present. Suffer not my strength 
 to fail, O God ! but may I sustain my trials and 
 discharge my duties as befits an humble disciple 
 of the blessed Jesus. And to thee, in his holy 
 name, be praises for evermore. Amen. 
 
PRAYER BEFORE COMMUNION, WHEN PRI 
 VATELY ADMINISTERED IN SICKNESS. 
 
 O THOU in whose hands our life and breath 
 are ! I bless thee that before I am called hence, 
 to be no more seen on earth, thou dost permit me 
 to commemorate my Saviour in the way of his 
 appointment. Thine hand is upon me, and I 
 cannot go with the multitude of them that keep 
 holy day, to meet my Redeemer and my God in 
 the house of prayer. But thou preparest for 
 me, here in privacy, the table of thine outward 
 ordinance. O, nourish my longing spirit with 
 heavenly food. As in these emblems I behold 
 the death of my Saviour, let me derive from the 
 contemplation strength for the scene that perhaps 
 ere long awaits myself. May his meek endur 
 ance be reflected in mine. May his constant faith, 
 his submission to thy holy will, his love to thee, to 
 his disciples and friends, and to all mankind, pro- 
 
PRAYER IN SICKNESS. 137 
 
 duce in me their own resemblance. If I have 
 cherished thus far an unkind feeling toward any, 
 enable me now, O God ! to banish it for ever from 
 my breast, as I think of him who prayed for thy 
 forgiveness on his murderers. If the pains of my 
 sickness are severe, let my thoughts rest on 
 those of my Redeemer s cross ; and wilt thou, O 
 Father ! who didst strengthen him in the sorrows 
 of Gethsemane, sustain me in the anticipation and 
 in the reality of that which is before me. Grant, 
 
 Lord ! that I may part from life with calm and 
 perfect trust in thee. I have sinned ; forgive thou 
 my sins ; confirm, perfect, and accept my peni 
 tence. And when death is past, O Father ! shall 
 
 1 then rapturous thought ! enter into the bliss 
 reserved for those who are found faithful ? Why 
 should I fear, when this is before me ? Fulfil, 
 my God ! the blessed anticipation, and to thee, in 
 the hallowed name of the Sufferer on Calvary, be 
 glory ascribed, now, and with my dying voice. 
 Amen. 
 
 12* 
 
PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE. 
 
 GOD so loved the world, that he gave his only be 
 gotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should 
 not perish, but have everlasting life. John iii. 16. 
 
 Scarcely for a righteous man will one die ; yet 
 peradventure for a good man some would even 
 dare to die. But God commendeth his love to 
 ward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ 
 died for us. Romans v. 7, 8. 
 
 For it became him, for whom are all things, 
 and by whom are all things, in bringing many 
 sons unto glory, to make the Captain of their sal 
 vation perfect through sufferings. Heb. ii. 10. 
 
 For such an high-priest became us, who is holy, 
 harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, and 
 made higher than the heavens. Heb. vii. 26. 
 
 Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an exam 
 ple, that ye should follow his steps : who did no 
 sin, neither was guile found in his mouth : who, 
 
PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE. 139 
 
 when he was reviled, reviled not again ; when he 
 suffered, he threatened not ; but committed him 
 self to him that judgeth righteously : who his own 
 self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, 
 that we, being dead to sins, should live unto 
 righteousness : by whose stripes ye were healed. 
 1 Peter ii. 21-24. 
 
 Behold my servant, whom I uphold ; mine 
 elect, in whom my soul delighteth ; I have put my 
 spirit upon him : he shall bring forth judgment to 
 the Gentiles. He shall not cry, nor lift up, nor 
 cause his voice to be heard in the street. A bruised 
 reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall 
 he not quench : he shall bring forth judgment un 
 to truth. Isaiah xlii. 1 - 3 ; Matt. xii. 17 - 20. 
 
 Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I 
 am the light of the world : he that followeth me 
 shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the 
 light of life. John viii. 12. 
 
 Come unto me, all ye that labor, and are heavy 
 laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke 
 upon you, and learn of me : for I am meek and 
 lowly in heart : and ye shall find rest unto your 
 souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is 
 light. Matt. xi. 28 - 30. 
 
 Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away 
 the sin of the world ! John i. 29. 
 
23 
 
 140 THE COMMUNICANT. 
 
 I am the good shepherd : the good shepherd 
 giveth his life for the sheep. John x. 11. 
 
 Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried 
 our sorrows. He was wounded for our transgres 
 sions, he was bruised for our iniquities ; the chas 
 tisement of our peace was upon him ; and with 
 his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have 
 gone astray; we have turned every one to his 
 own way ; and the Lord hath laid on him the in 
 iquity of us all. He was oppressed, and he was 
 afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth : he is 
 brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep 
 before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not 
 his mouth. Isaiah liii. 4-7. 
 
 This is my commandment, that ye love one 
 another, as I have loved you. Greater love 
 hath no man than this, that a man lay down 
 his life for his friends. Ye are my friends, if 
 ye do whatsoever I command you. John xv. 
 12-14. 
 
 Whosoever shall do the will of my Father 
 which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and 
 sister, and mother. Matt. xii. 50. 
 
 Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that 
 he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitia 
 tion for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, 
 we ought also to love one another. God is love ; 
 
PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE. 141 
 
 and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and 
 God in him. 1 John iv. 10, 11, 16. 
 
 Christ our passover is sacrificed for us ; there 
 fore let us keep the feast, not with old leaven, 
 neither with the leaven of malice and wickedness ; 
 but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and 
 truth. 1 Cor. v. 7, 8. 
 
 Friend, how earnest thou in hither, not having 
 a wedding garment ? Matt. xxii. 12. 
 
 Why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the 
 things which I say ? Luke vi. 46. 
 
 Let your light so shine before men, that they 
 may see your good works, and glorify your Fa 
 ther which is in heaven. Matt. v. 16. 
 
 Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see 
 God. Blessed are the peace-makers, for they 
 shall be called the children of God. Matt. v. 8, 9. 
 
 He that taketh not his cross, and followeth after 
 me, is not worthy of me. Matt. x. 38. 
 
 Now the end of the commandment is charity, 
 out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, 
 and of faith unfeigned. 1 Tim. i. 5. 
 
 Denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we 
 should live soberly, righteously, and godly in this 
 present world ; looking for that blessed hope, and 
 the glorious appearing of the great God and our 
 Saviour Jesus Christ; who gave himself for us, 
 
142 THE COMMUNICANT. 
 
 that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and 
 purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of 
 good works. Titus ii. 12 - 14. 
 
 Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it 
 doth not yet appear what we shall be : but we 
 know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like 
 him, for \ve shall see him as he is. 1 John iii. 2. 
 
PART IV. 
 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK. 
 

 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK 
 
 BEARING THE CROSS. 
 
 " HE that taketh not his cross, and followeth 
 after me, is not worthy of me." Matt. x. 38. 
 
 It was not without reason that our Lord pre 
 pared the minds of his disciples, by such words as 
 these, for the exercise of self-denial, and the en 
 durance of suffering. The fulfilment of their 
 duty to him and to his cause required of them, in 
 that age, no slight amount of firmness, no waver 
 ing faith nor lukewarm zeal. The first require 
 ment was indifference to worldly property, and, 
 on the part of the teachers of the religion, its 
 relinquishment. This was necessary, in order that 
 their minds might undividedly attend to the one 
 great object to which they were to be devoted. 
 
 The scorn and hatred of the community at large, 
 13 
 
146 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK. 
 
 and especially of the most respected and influen 
 tial class, they were sure to incur. Toil and 
 privation, the alienation of families and friends, 
 imprisonments, scourgings and tortures, were con 
 sequences neither remote nor improbable, to the 
 view of any who should avow themselves disciples 
 of Jesus ; and it was soon found, after the great 
 Master himself had suffered, that they who aspired 
 to follow him must prepare themselves for the 
 probability of being called to glorify him by a 
 martyr s death. Such were the crosses which the 
 early disciples bore ; and he who was not ready 
 to bear them was declared unworthy of his 
 Master. 
 
 Though times have changed, and persecution 
 has ceased, the Gospel of Christ remains the 
 same. It still requires the disciple to take up his 
 Saviour s cross and follow him. Our devotion to 
 his cause must be as entire, if we would be 
 counted worthy of our Lord, as was that of those 
 who went before us. If times of persecution 
 should return, it cannot be questioned that our 
 duty would be the same with that of those who 
 suffered for Christ in the age which followed his 
 ascension, to bear, if need should be, the literal 
 cross, or to endure whatever tortures a Herod or a 
 Nero could devise, rather than forsake our Master 
 
BEARING THE CROSS. 147 
 
 or dishonor our faith. There is not less, then, 
 of the spirit of faithful endurance in the heart 
 required now than of old ; but our more indulgent 
 lot has placed us where the occasions for its ex 
 ertion are less terrible. We have still to bear 
 meekly and firmly whatever burden it may please 
 Providence to impose ; but Providence grants to 
 us lighter burdens than were endured by those of 
 old. Shall we not thankfully receive and faith 
 fully sustain them ? 
 
 We have, however, our crosses ; and it is well 
 for us that we have them. Well did that noble- 
 hearted Christian, William Penn, place the senti 
 ment as the title to one of his treatises, " No cross, 
 no crown." It was by endurance that the Saviour 
 was glorified ; it is only by endurance, by meekly 
 sustaining sorrow, and bravely combating with 
 temptation, that we can rise to the resemblance 
 of our Lord, to that perfection in holiness which 
 shall be the crown of our everlasting rejoicing. 
 
 What, then, are our crosses ? What is it that in 
 this day the Christian must nerve himself to bear, 
 faithfully and patiently, under the alternative of 
 being declared unworthy of his Master ? It is, 
 first, in general terms, whatever affliction or trial 
 Providence may send. Our sorrows come not 
 now, as in ancient times, except in small propor- 
 
n 
 
 148 
 
 tion, as the direct consequence of our profession 
 of Christianity. But we may still regard them as 
 the cross we are to bear for Christ. He came, 
 not only to strengthen the martyr to endure his 
 fiery trial, but to minister aid in every form of 
 suffering that man can know ; and there are some 
 times sufferings in common, modern, and outward 
 ly peaceful life, which may well compare with 
 those of martyrdom. 
 
 " The writhings of a wounded heart 
 Are fiercer than a foeman s dart. 
 Oft in life s stillest shade reclining, 
 In desolation unrepining, 
 Without a hope on earth to find 
 A mirror in an answering mind, 
 Meek souls there are, who little dream 
 Their daily strife an angel s theme, 
 Or that the rod they take so calm 
 Shall prove in heaven a martyr s palm." 
 
 Keble. 
 
 There are some of our crosses, and those of 
 the heaviest kind, sin alone excepted, in enduring 
 which we have peculiarly the encouraging thought 
 that we are following our Master. They are the 
 very burdens which he bore before us. Such are 
 poverty, labor, pain, disgrace, bereavement, temp 
 tation. Let us contemplate them in turn. 
 
 Poverty. The Son of God, the Saviour of 
 
BEARING THE CROSS. 149 
 
 men, had not where to lay his head. His subsis 
 tence while engaged in the work of his ministry 
 was from the contributions of others. " Though he 
 were rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, that 
 we through his poverty might be rich." Few in 
 our happy country are called to know the extreme 
 of poverty, as endured by thousands in the Old 
 World. Ours is more generally that middle sta 
 tion, which is as far removed from penury as from 
 wealth ; the condition for which one prayed of 
 old, " Give me neither poverty nor riches ; feed 
 me with food convenient for me ; lest I be full, 
 and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord ? or lest 
 I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my 
 God in vain." Proverbs xxx. 8, 9. Shall we 
 not only fail to appreciate the moral advantages 
 of such a position, but, when so much is granted, 
 ungratefully complain that we have not more ? 
 Nay, rather, even if our lot be still more lowly, 
 let us remember the poverty of Jesus, and reflect 
 that " the disciple is not above his master, nor the 
 servant above his lord." 
 
 Labor. The ministry of Christ was not one of 
 ease. The days were spent in journeying with 
 his disciples, until, wearied with his travel, he 
 rested, as by the well of Samaria ; or in instruc 
 tions to the multitude, who thronged upon him so 
 13* 
 
150 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK. 
 
 continually, that at one time we are told he had not 
 an interval " so much as to eat," and his own rel 
 atives went forth and sought to lay hold on him, 
 " for they said he is beside himself." His nights 
 were spent, in various instances, in retirement on 
 some mountain height, where by prayer and medi 
 tation he was strengthening himself for still further 
 endurance. If labor is in this world our portion, 
 shall we not learn from his cross to endure ours ? 
 
 Pain. How many a Christian, suffering the 
 agony of sickness, has turned in thought to those 
 pains of body which the Redeemer endured, and 
 found strength to bear as Christ had borne. When 
 the weight of the literal cross was placed upon 
 him, his frame was yet suffering under cruel inflic 
 tions, and as with toil he moved on beneath his 
 burden, even the savage executioners so far com 
 passionated him, as to compel another to assist 
 him in sustaining it. Hence how short was the 
 interval to the infliction of still more excruciating 
 tortures, the completion of the horrid penalty 
 which impious man exacted from the innocent and 
 the holy ! Yes ! Let those who are called to 
 endure pain think on the agonies of the Saviour s 
 crucifixion, and learn patience of him who there 
 so meekly suffered. 
 
 Disgrace. Harder to bear than corporeal pain, 
 
BEARING THE CROSS. 151 
 
 to a mind possessing any thing of nobleness, is the 
 scorn of fellow-beings. To be despised and re 
 jected of men, the object of reproach to all around, 
 can any affliction transcend this ? Yet this too 
 the Redeemer endured. He was thus despised, 
 thus rejected. This trial was added to the immedi 
 ate sufferings of his cross, when they that passed 
 by, wagging their heads, exclaimed, " He saved 
 others, himself he cannot save," when even his 
 own chosen friends betrayed, abandoned, and de 
 nied him. Scarcely in this age can it be ours to 
 suffer disgrace for the cross of Christ ; and yet 
 there is something which the minds of those who 
 ought to be his disciples represent to themselves 
 as partaking of this character. They fear the 
 opinions of men, if they should venture to be 
 known as religious. The offence of the cross has 
 not, in their view, entirely ceased ; and, honored as 
 the Gospel is by thousands, they are still afraid of 
 the supposed dishonor accompanying its profession. 
 Let them recognize, rather, if they are called to 
 endure shame for the name of Jesus, in this very 
 shame the cross which Providence summons them 
 to bear. Let them heed then his words who de 
 clared, " He that taketh not his cross, and followeth 
 after me, is not worthy of me," and instead of 
 shrinking from the light yoke and easy burden 
 
152 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK. 
 
 which the Gospel in this age presents, let them 
 emulate the self-devoted spirit of those disciples, 
 who returned from trial and scourging to give 
 thanks, " rejoicing that they were counted worthy 
 to suffer shame for his name." Acts v. 41. 
 
 Bereavement. Painful is that trial, and it 
 comes in turn to us all. 
 
 " Friend after friend departs ; 
 Who hath not lost a friend ? " 
 
 It is sad to bid the last farewell to those we love. 
 Whether they go from us in infancy, in middle 
 life, or in age, whether the blow be sudden or 
 long anticipated, we feel that grief must have 
 way, that nature bids us lament ; nor can religion, 
 with all her consolations, prevent our rendering 
 the tribute of sorrow which affection claims. Yet, 
 Christian, in thy mourning, feel thou that the cross 
 thou bearest is that which Providence hath imposed 
 upon thee ; feel, too, and be consoled by the re 
 membrance, that he in whose steps thou art tread 
 ing bore this cross also. Jesus, like thee, wept by 
 a friend s grave. Hallowed remembrance ! What 
 Christian has mourned and has found consolation, 
 that would bear to lose from the Scriptures that 
 passage in which the beloved disciple has record 
 ed the tears of Jesus by the grave of Lazarus ? 
 In another sense, too, did Jesus endure bereave- 
 
BEARING THE CROSS. 153 
 
 ment. Who ever was, like him, alone among 
 mankind ? - His nearest friends could not com 
 prehend his spirit nor his purposes. His disci 
 ples, at the moment of danger, " forsook him and 
 fled." 
 
 Temptation. Grievous are the sufferings of 
 bodily anguish, sharp the pangs of a lacerated 
 spirit ; but there is a cross more to be dreaded than 
 these. It is temptation. Better the death of the 
 body than the ruin of the soul ; and temptation is 
 that which threatens the soul s ruin. The Saviour 
 himself taught his disciples to pray, " Lead us not 
 into temptation " ; and yet we have to tread that 
 path ; we know that we must tread it so long as 
 life remains. Our position is one of struggle 
 against evil inducements ; and the Divine wisdom 
 sees best, for reasons which we can partially dis- 
 ceVn, that it should be so. But despair not, disciple 
 of Jesus, who bearest the cross of temptation ; for 
 he also bore it, and bore it triumphantly. From 
 the first hours of his ministry, when, led by the 
 spirit into the wilderness to meditate, he beheld 
 the prizes of ambition placed before him, and 
 turned from them all to follow the straight and 
 narrow path of duty, through all his long course 
 of faithfulness, up to the hour when he bore 
 meek yet majestic witness to the truth before 
 
154 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK. 
 
 Pontius Pilate, did he " suffer, being tempted." 
 How hard that trial was, it is in some instances 
 permitted us to have an idea from the expressions 
 which it wrung from him. " Pray," said he to 
 his disciples once after such an inward contest, 
 " pray that ye enter not into temptation ; the 
 spirit truly is willing, but the flesh is weak." 
 " Now," he said at another time, " now is my 
 soul troubled, and what shall I say ? Father, save 
 me from this hour ? But .for this cause came I 
 unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name ! " 
 Temptation could assail him, but it could not con 
 quer. Firmly he endured that cross also, and 
 having remained faithful unto death, he is set 
 down at the right hand of the Majesty on high. 
 Let the tempted look to Jesus, and since the cross 
 of trial is appointed by God, firmly, though 
 in humility, assume, and resolutely bear it, re 
 membering that Jesus thus sustained it, who 
 was tempted in all points as we are, yet without 
 sin. 
 
 Coinciding more or less nearly with one or an 
 other of these classes of endurance which we have 
 now glanced at, are the various crosses which 
 individuals are called to bear. Generally, too, 
 there is to each one some peculiar cross, which 
 he may recognize as being the evil he most 
 
BEARING THE CROSS. 155 
 
 desires to have removed, or the want which he 
 most wishes to have gratified. And the thought 
 may sufficiently indicate how such trials are to 
 be borne, that the very earnestness of his wish 
 may serve to show him what that is, the endurance 
 of which is at the time the very cross that 
 Providence imposes on him ; patience under it 
 the very duty which at that moment his God 
 requires. Is labor hard to you ? Then that labor 
 is your cross, by meekly bearing which you can 
 follow your Saviour. Do you feel that you could 
 with pleasure endure labor, but pine at the con 
 finement of your sick-room, which forbids you to 
 engage in it ? Be comforted, then, by the feeling, 
 that the service *of God is as possible to you now 
 as it was in the hours of health. Your peculiar 
 cross is now sickness ; your peculiar duty, to 
 bear it resignedly. When recovery comes, be 
 thankful, but expect not that in the removal of 
 one cross your service is ended. Still there will 
 be something to endure ; and you, if you are a 
 faithful Christian, would not have it otherwise, 
 would not be found unmarked with that sacred 
 sign, which the Redeemer bore, and which his 
 true followers must bear. 
 
 There is one cross which it is ours to bear, 
 that, unlike those which have been named, was 
 
 n 
 
156 
 
 not endured by Christ. It is sin. Yes ; we must 
 bear what our Saviour never bore, the conscious 
 ness of neglected opportunities, duties unper 
 formed, and transgressions committed. We must 
 endure the trial of those temptations which derive 
 increase of strength from our own previous crimi 
 nal yielding to them ; ours must be the shame and 
 the agony of regret. Far better any other suffer 
 ing than this ; yet this, too, is a cross which we 
 have a duty to perform in enduring. If we are 
 guilty in the sight of God, the consciousness of 
 that guilt is, with unquestionable justice, made a 
 part of the burden we are to sustain ; and in sus 
 taining it is exercise for humility of spirit, for 
 penitence which looks upon the past, and for holy 
 determination which contemplates the future. 
 We have to strengthen us the assurance that God 
 is merciful, yet more, that God is our Father. 
 But for this, the cross of sin would be intolerable. 
 Let us not shrink, then, from the contemplation of 
 past errors. It is a part of the duty we owe to Him 
 who in all but his sinlessness was our brother ; it 
 is a cross, though not like his, which, if endured 
 aright, may be the means of making us resemble 
 him more perfectly, by the power of true repent 
 ance to win back the forfeited brightness of in 
 nocence. 
 
INSTRUMENTAL AND ACTIVE DUTIES. 
 
 THE duties of the communicant, it is sufficient 
 ly obvious, are essentially the same which are in 
 cumbent upon all. Our obligations to God and to 
 our fellow-men do not depend on our acknowl 
 edging their existence. The law of Christ is the 
 rule of life prescribed for us by Divine authority, 
 and our neglect of one among its precepts surely 
 does not excuse us from obedience to the others. 
 
 Still it is true, that every right action we 
 perform gives a pledge of consistent action in 
 future ; and that a falling into sin involves more 
 of disgrace, and more of moral injury to ourselves 
 and others, the higher our characters have previous 
 ly stood. To ourselves, there is danger that the 
 greatness of the fall may produce discouragement, 
 instead of salutary penitence ; and those who be 
 hold are liable to be hardened in sin, and tempted 
 
 to disbelieve and scorn the power of virtue and 
 14 
 
158 
 
 religion. The offences of professed disciples 
 " give occasion to the enemies of the Lord to 
 blaspheme." The most mournful wounds which 
 religion has received have been " in the house of 
 her friends." 
 
 The believer, then, who in a sincere and humble 
 spirit has joined the Church of Christ, cannot be 
 indifferent to the question, What course of life 
 should I pursue, that it may be consistent with 
 the profession that I have made ? What duties 
 are yet before me, and how am I to discharge 
 them ? 
 
 The duties of the Christian s life may be classi 
 fied under the divisions of instrumental, passive, 
 and active. Of these, the second class has al 
 ready received our notice, in the preceding sec 
 tion. The instrumental and the active duties re 
 main for us to consider. 
 
 Under the former may be named the reading 
 of the Scriptures, self-examination, and prayer, 
 together with the observance of the Lord s day 
 and its ordinances. These are means for im 
 provement in actual virtue ; they are instruments 
 for cultivating within us the love of God and 
 man. 
 
 Let not any one fancy that the advancement he 
 has already made justifies him in neglecting the 
 
n 
 
 INSTRUMENTAL DUTIES. 159 
 
 duties of personal religion. Let not any one 
 fancy that a profession once made of faith in 
 Christ is enough to make him and keep him a re 
 ligious man. Religion is not a thing once to be 
 experienced and afterwards to be left to itself. 
 The mind and heart require nourishment, as 
 much as the body. As the human frame without 
 food would languish and die, so without inward, 
 spiritual food, the soul languishes, the spiritual 
 powers are weakened, the religious character 
 dies. 
 
 And what is this food of the soul ? How is 
 the immortal spirit to be sustained ? Prayer, read 
 ing, reflection, self-examination, the services of 
 God s house, and active virtue, these are the 
 means of sustaining that religious character which 
 is the soul s life. And though active virtue be of 
 the list, let it not be thought that the others can 
 safely be relinquished. Nor are prayer and re 
 flection to be dreaded or shunned. To the pious 
 mind, they are among the highest pleasures. 
 Sometimes, indeed, it is painful to reflect, it is 
 painful even to pray, when reflection finds no 
 theme but the remembrance of lost opportunities 
 and committed faults, and when prayer is the 
 pleading of a spirit that is struggling to be humble, 
 but has not yet fully attained the humility which 
 
 n ; 
 
160 
 
 makes prayer delightful. But when sin and pride 
 are yielding, when we can trace in our own 
 characters something of improvement, when 
 we can indulge a hope that we are somewhat 
 nearer heaven than before, and when, at the same 
 time, we have so far conquered the temptation to 
 vanity and self-admiration, as to recognize God, 
 and not ourselves, as the author of this advance 
 ment, then, indeed, reflection is pleasure ; and 
 prayer is the spontaneous and delighted pouring 
 forth of gratitude to Him whose presence we feel 
 to be around us, and whose grace we feel to be in 
 our hearts. 
 
 But it is not only at such times that the Chris 
 tian is to pray, or read, or meditate. It is a fatal 
 mistake of some, to think they need only attend 
 to these duties when their inclination prompts. 
 They say, that sometimes, when their devotional 
 feelings are excited, they do pray, sometimes, 
 when so disposed, they do read the Scriptures. 
 This is leaving their religion to be the result of 
 accident. What is postponed now for want of 
 suitable feeling, now again for want of time, may 
 soon be entirely neglected. Whatever is worth 
 doing at all is worth doing regularly, at stated in 
 tervals. And at these intervals, if the mind is 
 not in a right train for the service, it is to be 
 
INSTRUMENTAL DUTIES. 161 
 
 brought into a right train. Reflection can be 
 called up, to remind us how great is the Being in 
 whose presence we stand, our God, the Lord of 
 heaven and earth, the Eternal, Invisible, Unsearch 
 able God, whom no mortal eye can see, and who 
 yet is around us constantly, who sees all our ac 
 tions, hears every word, and traces every thought, 
 though it be almost hidden from ourselves. Thus 
 can the mind be suitably composed for the high 
 intercourse of prayer ; and if devotion does not 
 ascend on her boldest wing, at least the exercise 
 will be an offering of such .as we have to offer, 
 and our spirits will be, by its influence, in some 
 degree purified and elevated. Let prayer, then, 
 and reading, reflection and self-examination, be 
 made regular duties. 
 
 The hours of morning and of evening are sug 
 gested by nature, by Scripture, and by the common 
 consent of mankind, as the suitable seasons for 
 regular devotion. And what is the most appro 
 priate period for self-examination ? This is, in 
 deed, like prayer, a duty for all times and places. 
 The individual must ever have a watch over him 
 self, and must ever be ready, even though amidst 
 a crowd, to seek, in silent ejaculation, aid from 
 heaven. But as for prayer, so also for self-ex 
 amination, the allotment of some definite period 
 
162 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK. 
 
 of time is the best way to insure the regular per 
 formance of the duty. The calm leisure of the 
 Sabbath day, the recurrence of the ordinance 
 commemorative of our Saviour, and whatever 
 periods of the year are hallowed to our recollec 
 tion by events of peculiar importance, these may 
 well be employed for the purpose of a self-com 
 munion, in which conscience shall penetrate the 
 recesses of the soul, and dislodge thence every 
 bad passion, every unholy thought, every guest 
 unworthy to endure the presence of that God to 
 whom we have consecrated the temple of the 
 heart. 
 
 Among the means which we may use for our 
 own improvement and the expression of reverence 
 to God, are some which are also to be classed 
 among our duties to others. Such are family 
 prayer, public worship, and the use of the ordi 
 nances of religion. 
 
 Family prayer, where properly conducted, is 
 the blessing of God on the domestic circle. We 
 will not say merely that it calls down a blessing, 
 though this we believe ; but it is in itself a blessing. 
 It introduces, more than can in any other way be 
 done, the spirit of religion into the circle of par 
 ents and children, brothers and sisters. It binds 
 all together with the golden chain of love to one 
 
INSTRUMENTAL DUTIES. 163 
 
 another, and to the Father and to the Saviour of 
 all. To the younger portion of the family its 
 influence may be most valuable. The example 
 of the parent is set before them as a motive to 
 personal religion ; and no motive can be more 
 powerful. Is it objected, that few are competent 
 to conduct the exercise in an appropriate manner ? 
 We may reply, that excellent manuals of devotion 
 are accessible to all ; and that it is not in the 
 number of words that the influence of family 
 prayer consists, but in the act of the domestic cir 
 cle uniting each day to acknowledge the goodness 
 and to seek the blessing of God. Of the direct 
 answer that is granted to such prayers, there 
 seems no further reason to doubt, than of the an 
 swer to public or to individual supplications. We 
 know that the Scriptures authorize and inculcate 
 prayer ; that the patriarchs worshipped in the pres 
 ence of their families, and the Saviour among his 
 disciples. We doubt not that our devotions are 
 known to the Omniscient ; nor that the All- 
 merciful and All-powerful is equally willing and 
 able to bestow the blessings that are suitably im 
 plored. 
 
 Next to family worship, attendance on the ser 
 vices of the sanctuary presents itself for our re 
 flection. This, like the discharge of the other in- 
 33 
 
164 
 
 strumental duties of religion, should be regular. 
 We have already laid down the principle, that 
 whatever object is to be accomplished can be 
 better effected by systematic efforts, than by 
 regarding merely the promptings of occasional 
 inclination. And let us remember, that our 
 Saviour enforced the precept, " Take heed how 
 ye hear." Let us remember that he com 
 pared the preaching of the Gospel to the scatter 
 ing of seed, which fell in vain, unless it fell 
 on good ground ; and that even of those who 
 attended on his preaching, the greater number, 
 from want of due preparation on their own part, 
 derived no advantage from their inestimable 
 privilege. Hence may w r e learn to bring to the 
 house of prayer the hearing ear, the understand 
 ing heart, and the docile and obedient spirit. 
 
 With respect to the employment of those hours 
 of the Lord s day which are not spent in public 
 worship, we may observe, in general terms, that 
 he who wishes to derive real improvement from 
 the thoughts presented to him in church will not 
 be disposed to engage immediately after in any 
 thing, either of business or of pleasure, which 
 would banish eveiy serious thought from his mind. 
 " The Sabbath was made for man " ; but much of 
 its usefulness to man depends upon his holding it 
 
 n 
 
INSTRUMENTAL DUTIES. 165 
 
 sacred, sacred from the common cares of life, 
 and from some of its ordinary enjoyments. En 
 joyments the day may and ought to have. It 
 should be, it is meant to be, the happiest day of 
 all the seven. But its pleasures should be of that 
 quiet, simple, thoughtful character, that may be 
 consistent with the serious duties that engage a 
 portion of its hours. And in regard even to oc 
 cupations which may appear in themselves inno 
 cent, the Christian, if he has the spirit of his 
 Master and of Paul, will be disposed rather to 
 deny himself than to do " any thing whereby a 
 brother may stumble, or be led into sin, or be 
 made weak." Rom. xiv. 21. 
 
 Thus have we reviewed the instrumental duties 
 of religion, with the exception of the Lord s 
 Supper itself. In this the disciple will engage in 
 deference to the command of his Saviour, and not 
 in deference to that alone. He will strive to culti 
 vate within himself that spirit of love to his 
 Master, which will render participation in the me 
 morial of his Master s death, not merely a duty, 
 but a pleasure. He will regard the communion 
 as a proper occasion for self-inspection, and for a 
 renewed examination of the perfect character of 
 his Saviour. Prayer and praise are sacred to our 
 God; the communion Is sacred to Jesus Christ, 
 
166 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK. 
 
 not as an act of worship, but of friendly, brother 
 ly commemoration. 
 
 But the Supper of the Lord, like public, social, 
 and private prayer, though valuable in itself, will 
 be by such a person valued most as instrumental 
 to something beyond. He will remember the 
 solemn meaning of those words, " Let eveiy one 
 that nameth the name of Christ depart from in 
 iquity." (2 Tim. ii. 19.) He will feel that the 
 discharge of duty to man is the mode of service 
 most acceptable to that God who declared of old, 
 " I will have mercy, and not sacrifice." 
 
 " Ye," said our Saviour to his disciples, " ye 
 are the salt of the earth " ; " ye are the light of 
 the world." These are lofty titles; but they 
 were applied by our holy Master to the band of 
 his followers, and to the band of his followers they 
 still belong. The Christian Church is now, as of 
 old, the salt of the earth, the light of the world. 
 The members, then, of the Christian Church should 
 remember the influence they exert, and their re- 
 sponsibleness for its exercise. If the salt have 
 lost its savor, wherewith shall it be seasoned ? 
 If the light of the world become darkness, how 
 great is that darkness ! 
 
 Leaving the instrumental, we now approach the 
 active duties of the Christian, those which he 
 
ACTIVE DUTIES. 167 
 
 is called upon to discharge toward his fellow-men. 
 First among them we may with propriety notice 
 what is due to his associates in the Church. 
 
 Communicants at present form among us a dis 
 tinct body ; and a distinct body they must form, 
 until either the ordinance shall cease to be ob 
 served, which we trust may never be, or un 
 til all shall unite in it. However we may regret 
 the distinction between church and congregation, 
 we must act according to the existing state of 
 things. Perceiving, then, that some of each re 
 ligious society are peculiarly united together, if 
 by no other tie, at least by meeting each other at 
 the communion, we must consider what duties 
 these owe to one another. 
 
 This point would be very differently settled in 
 different assemblies of Christians. Among some, 
 were we to propose this question, we should be 
 told that each member of the Church owes it to 
 his brethren to exercise a strict, though affection 
 ate, watch over their conduct, freely though kindly 
 to admonish them of any perceived error, and, if 
 admonition should fail, to act in concert with the 
 Church at large as a judicial tribunal for their ex 
 amination and discipline. It must be confessed 
 that this view of a church, as a body which is to 
 exercise a very constant and watchful discipline 
 
168 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK. 
 
 over its members, is in accordance with the prac 
 tice of the early Christians, and claims to be au 
 thorized by the precepts of our Saviour and the 
 Apostles. But, on the other hand, it is to be re 
 membered that the early Christians, living under 
 a despotic and heathen government, had much 
 more occasion for a tribunal within their own 
 body, to compose their differences and pass cen 
 sure on their faults, than exists at the present day. 
 It is to be remembered that the experience of 
 ages since that time has shown the great danger 
 that attends the placing of temporal power in the 
 hands of spiritual leaders. It is also worthy of 
 remark, that our Saviour, if he laid down some 
 principles of what may be called church disci 
 pline, pointed out in those principles a course of 
 advice and remonstrance, not of coercion (Matt, 
 xviii. 15, 17) ; and that the only instance in which 
 St. Paul is recorded to have authorized even the 
 suspension of a member from communion, was an 
 instance of such gross immorality as not the most 
 lenient church at the present day would tolerate. 
 (1 Cor. v. ; 2 Cor. ii.) Then, too, it may be urged 
 with force, that a system of continual supervision 
 of each other s conduct would be apt to do more 
 harm, by the introduction of an inquisitive, inter 
 meddling and suspicious spirit, than it could ever 
 
ACTIVE DUTIES. 169 
 
 do good by the purifying effect of its discipline ; 
 that thus heart-burnings and jealousies would take 
 the place of that brotherly love which ought to be 
 the bond of Christian union ; that in a community 
 as numerous as Christian churches frequently are, 
 there would often be persons who would combine 
 a zeal for discipline with a narrowness of mind 
 which would be unable to distinguish between 
 matters of consequence and trifles, between forms 
 and substance. Among the early Christians it 
 was better to have points of difference concerning 
 right subjected to the kind arbitration of their 
 brethren, than decided by heathen judges. In the 
 Dark Ages, when the right of the strongest often 
 took the place of law and order, the spiritual 
 weapons of suspension and excommunication, if 
 they were often abused to wrong purposes, were 
 perhaps still oftener valuable for right. But in 
 our Christian and civilized age, it is better to leave 
 questions that admit of such adjudication to be set 
 tled by the law of the land, to exercise church disci 
 pline only in extreme cases, for purging the Church 
 from members whose lives would disgrace it, and to 
 substitute in its stead a fraternal feeling among the 
 members of the same communion, and an inter 
 course in which harmony shall be secured by mutu 
 al forbearance, and respect for the liberty of all. 
 15 
 
170 
 
 It by no means follows, however, that those 
 who meet at the same table to commemorate the 
 death of their Lord, may not feel and encourage 
 an interest in each other s welfare, or even that 
 such an interest may not extend to the spiritual as 
 well as temporal good of their fellow-members. 
 Such an interest ought to exist. They who have 
 fixed their hearts on the same object, they who 
 are travelling the same road, should feel that they 
 are indeed companions. It may often be in their 
 power to facilitate each other s progress ; to do so, 
 should not be less a pleasure than a duty. Nor, 
 while we find so many of the worthiest among us, 
 who from various reasons decline attendance at 
 the Communion, should we fail on this account to 
 extend to them our fraternal sympathy and aid. 
 The worshippers in the same house of prayer are 
 bound together by a near and sacred relation. A 
 relation less near, but not less sacred, connects to 
 gether all the followers of the Saviour. Wherever 
 
 o 
 
 we find a Christian, there should our hearts recog 
 nize a brother. It is said, that of old, when the 
 professors of Christianity, few in number, were 
 surrounded by a hostile world, the heathen, bitterly 
 as they opposed them, could not avoid sometimes 
 saying, " Behold, how these Christians love one 
 another." Happy will be the Christian Church, 
 
 ~- 
 
ACTIVE DUTIES. 171 
 
 if, at the present day, the same can be said ; 
 and happy that portion of it, however small, in 
 which unity of spirit, mutual respect, and brother 
 ly kindness prevail. 
 
 What is the duty of the communicant toward 
 the world at large ? It differs in naught from the 
 duty of any other member of society. It may 
 naturally be expected, however, that the feelings 
 which have led the disciple to a profession of re 
 ligion will accompany him still, and shed the 
 light of religious feeling and religious motive over 
 every field of human obligation. In the constitu 
 tion of society every man bears his part, but it 
 often is the case that men are unacquainted with 
 the true nature of the ties which bind them to 
 each other. Prompted only by private interest or 
 feeling, they discharge their part for the general 
 good, and see not, all the time, that wisdom which 
 has arranged the motives and course of their 
 action. Each is like some inanimate portion of 
 a machine, which yields blindly to the impulse of 
 the moving power, unconscious of the purposes 
 for which it is employed. Thus it is with men in 
 every condition of life ; alike with the tiller of 
 the ground and with the conqueror ; both are 
 instruments in the hands of Providence, and 
 Providence employs the one to aid in producing 
 
172 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK. 
 
 sustenance for mankind, and the other to execute 
 judgment on the guilty, and salutary discipline on 
 the erring among nations ; but each, meanwhile, 
 sees only himself and the circle of private mo 
 tives by which he is influenced. Religion com 
 municates to man a knowledge of his true posi 
 tion. It is then as if the machine could become 
 conscious of the results it is destined to effect, and 
 of their importance. The individual now sees the 
 bearing of his own conduct on the happiness of 
 those around him, and perceives himself to be a 
 fellow-worker with God for the benefit of society. 
 This idea it is which distinguishes the duty and 
 the conduct of the religious man. His eye is 
 opened to his own true position. He sees that, 
 while he has thought of nothing but the acquisition 
 of property, God has made use of the industry 
 he has thus developed for the good of society. 
 He sees that, while he has thought only of gratify 
 ing his own taste, he has, without intending it, 
 gratified also that of others. He enters then 
 cheerfully into the plans of infinite benevolence, 
 as he begins to understand them. His conduct 
 perhaps is the same, but its motives are different. 
 He labors now, not only for himself, but in part for 
 the sake of others, and in part from a feeling in 
 harmony with the plans of his Creator. He sees 
 
IN 
 ACTIVE DUTIES. 173 
 
 God in all, and all in God. Has he children ? 
 He not only provides for them from the instinctive 
 principle which sways the animal, he not only 
 cherishes them for his own gratification, though 
 this instinctive principle, and this gratification in 
 the growth and progress of his children, are 
 strengthened, not weakened, by the introduction 
 of higher motives, but he contemplates God as 
 the wise author and disposer of the parental re 
 lation, he sees himself intrusted with these ob 
 jects from a higher power, and on this view of 
 duty does he conduct himself towards them. And 
 so of every relation he sustains. This it is, as 
 the Apostle commands, to " do all to the glory of 
 God " ; to feel, in whatever we have to do, the 
 relation which it bears to God, and to our duty as 
 his subjects. The man who realizes the feelings 
 we have endeavoured to describe and convey, views 
 the world from an entirely different and more ele 
 vated point than the community at large. Of the 
 thousands around him, each sees only his own lim 
 ited part ; but this man, while he sees his own part, 
 sends a glance abroad over the whole, views it in 
 its relations to God, and himself cooperates with 
 God s designs concerning it to the best of his 
 ability. Thus it is that the love of God leads to 
 
 the love of man ; that piety introduces true philan- 
 15* 
 
174 THE CHRISTIAN S WALK. 
 
 thropy ; because, as we come nearer to our 
 Heavenly Father, understand his character and 
 will better, and love him more, we feel more as 
 he feels, in reference to our fellow-men. 
 
 The present is peculiarly an age of philanthrop 
 ic exertion. Plans of benevolence of the widest ex 
 tent, and adapted to all the varied forms of human 
 suffering, are offered to the attention of the com 
 munity. To their claims the consistent Christian 
 cannot be indifferent. His first attention is due to 
 those immediately around him ; the duties of the 
 son or brother, husband or father, must first be 
 discharged; then follow those of the friend, the 
 neighbour, and the citizen. It must be his to re 
 lieve distress, to encourage virtuous conduct, to 
 warn against vice, among those to whom his direct 
 influence extends. But beyond this sphere he has 
 duties. The love taught him by his Saviour is 
 not less comprehensive than the world. Among 
 the many plans for the relief of suffering, the re 
 straint of wrong, the advancement of knowledge, 
 civilization, and Christianity, he is to choose, calm 
 ly and justly, such as commend themselves to his 
 approval, and come within his power of efficient 
 cooperation. It cannot be his to have a part in 
 all the good that is done among mankind. It may 
 be best that he should concentrate his efforts on 
 
irvs 
 
 ACTIVE DUTIES. 175 
 
 some one object in the wide field of Christian 
 beneficence. If so, still let him be just to others. 
 Their efforts, too, must be bounded, from the very 
 nature of things. It is neither desirable nor possi 
 ble that all other objects should be forsaken for 
 that which has engaged his attention. Never let 
 him condemn that which he has not examined ; 
 never let him judge the motives and the consciences 
 of others. In his own chosen sphere let him 
 labor, whether success be sent to encourage, or 
 disappointment to prove him. It is not the amount 
 of what he shall accomplish, but the sincere fidel 
 ity with which he labors, that shall gain him the 
 approval of conscience and of God. As to the 
 approbation of men, let him not seek for it, ex 
 cept in strict subordination to those higher aims. 
 With humility, but with steadfastness, let him 
 follow in the path which Jesus trod, and though it 
 should conduct him to the cross, beyond the cross 
 is the heavenly crown. 
 
PART V. 
 MEDITATIONS IN TERSE, 
 
PART V. 
 MEDITATIONS IN VERSE 
 
 "BEHOLD THE MAN!" 
 
 BEHOLD the Man ! By that calm eye, 
 By that mild lip, my Lord I know ; 
 
 But why those drops of crimson dye, 
 That majesty of patient woe ? 
 
 Around thee clings a robe of state, 
 But ah ! in mockery, stained and torn ; 
 
 And for the crown s imperial weight, 
 Thy temples bear the piercing thorn. 
 
 Behold the Man ! Thy cheek is pale, 
 Thy form with torture seems to faint ; 
 
 But the strong soul can yet prevail, 
 And the meek lip knows no complaint. 
 
 The wounds thy bleeding frame has borne, 
 The sharper pangs thou yet must bear, 
 
180 MEDITATIONS IN VERSE. 
 
 The princes hate, the soldiers scorn, 
 Are there worse ills than these to share ? 
 
 Yes ! it is worse to die abhorred 
 By those whom thou hast lived to save, 
 
 To hear thine Israel doom her Lord, 
 Her benefactor, to the grave. 
 
 Yet, Saviour, there were thoughts that came, 
 Like angel ministrants, to cheer 
 
 Thy spirit through that pain and shame ; 
 And one among them, bright and dear ; 
 
 That coming ages should repay, 
 By love, the scorn of that sad hour ; 
 
 For visioned to thy spirit lay 
 
 Thy rising kingdom s future power. 
 
 And now is that fruition thine 
 
 Whose hope could then thy soul sustain ; 
 And thou, enthroned in bliss divine, 
 
 Art spreading still thy glorious reign. 
 
 Lo, heathen altars crumbling fall ! 
 
 Lo, ocean s isles thy voice obey ! 
 And soon the light that beams for all, 
 
 O er the wide earth shall pour its ray. 
 
 And we, shall not our spirits bend 
 To him who in that strife o ercame 1 
 
 Our praises for that King ascend, 
 Who comes in God his Father s name ? 
 
BEHOLD THE MAN ! 
 
 181 
 
 Yes, by that patient, bleeding brow, 
 By all thy wrongs, by all thy love ! 
 
 Saviour ! before thee here we bow, 
 Thy service be our bliss above ! 
 
 16 
 
JESUS BEFOEE PILATE. 
 
 " ART thou a king ? " 0, not in vain 
 
 Those words, though meant in scorn ; 
 For ne er was captive monarch s chain 
 With more of grandeur worn. 
 
 " Thou sayest " ; the assent was given, 
 
 With calmness, not with pride ; 
 Nor he, though loved and crowned of heaven, 
 That earthly power defied. 
 
 " My kingdom is not of this earth, 
 Else had my servants fought ; 
 But consecrated from my birth, 
 For truth I ve lived and taught ; 
 
 " And hearts to whom the truth is dear 
 
 Are subjects of my throne. 
 My law they love, my voice they hear, 
 My gentle kingdom own." 
 
 " What, then, is truth ? " the Koman cried, 
 Yet careless turned away, 
 
JESUS BEFORE PILATE. 183 
 
 Self-fated, darkling to abide, 
 So near the perfect day. 
 
 King of truth ! we bless thy sway, 
 
 Thy law would learn and love. 
 On earth conduct us in thy way, 
 
 And own us thine above ! 
 
THE CROWN OF THORNS. 
 
 A CROWN for the destined King ! 
 The weight of gold by David borne, 
 
 From conquered Ammon torn ! * 
 To David s heir the regal circle bring, 
 
 And let the ruby s rays 
 
 Join with the sapphire s blaze 
 To make for Judah s Lord an offering. 
 
 A crown for the gentle Friend, 
 Whose heart with human love o erflows, 
 
 Who feels for human woes ! 
 The rose and myrtle with the olive blend, 
 
 And let the mingled wreath 
 
 Each softest odor breathe, 
 And music s liquid melody attend. 
 
 A crown for the Lofty One ! 
 For him who reigns in heavenly might, 
 Next to the Infinite ! 
 
 * "And he took their king s crown from off his head, (the weight 
 whereof was a talent of gold, with the precious stones,) and it was set 
 on David s head." 2 Sam. xii. 30. 
 
K- 
 
 THE CROWN OF THORNS. 185 
 
 But what were worthy of God s holy Son, 
 
 Unless night s diadem, 
 
 With every starry gem, 
 By angel hands were laid before his throne ? 
 
 A crown of the piercing thorn 
 "Was woven for that sacred brow, 
 
 And lo ! the soldiers bow, 
 And hail the meek Redeemer king, in scorn ! 
 
 Christian ! there fix thy gaze ! 
 
 Nor gems nor starry rays 
 Equal the glories which that crown adorn. 
 
 16* 
 
"MY GOD! MY GOD! WHY HAST THOU 
 FORSAKEN ME?" 
 
 HAST thou forsaken me ? 
 Father and God ! to thee 
 
 Humbly I cry. 
 
 Free from temptation s thrall, 
 Loving and blessing all, 
 
 Yet here I die. 
 
 Hast thou not said of old, 
 Thou wouldst my throne uphold 
 
 Against all fear ? 
 Hast thou not made, through me, 
 Blind eyes the light to see, 
 
 Deaf ears to hear ? 
 
 Has not my fervent prayer 
 Risen through midnight s air 
 
 On the lone hill, 
 While, like the stars above, 
 Thine answering thoughts of love 
 
 Burned calm and still ? 
 
WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME ? 187 
 
 Darkness around me lies ! 
 Scarce can my spirit rise 
 
 O er the sharp pain. 
 Thoughts of a world redeemed, 
 How brightly once ye beamed*! 
 
 Beam yet again ! 
 
 God ! thou hast given me power 
 To brave this fearful hour ; 
 
 Leave me not now ! 
 Torn limbs and burning thirst ! 
 Malice has done its worst ! 
 
 Be near me thou ! 
 
THE MOUKNEES. 
 
 THE nails are loosened from the cross, 
 
 And now the sacred form, 
 With bending head, like flower that bows 
 
 Before the northern storm, 
 Received by friendly arms, is laid 
 
 On yonder grassy mound, 
 While silently, in reverent grief, 
 
 The mourners gather round. 
 
 And Roman proud and Pharisee 
 
 At distance gaze with awe, 
 For sternest breasts confess at times 
 
 Our nature s holy law. 
 They thought despair and baffled guilt 
 
 Above that form would rave, 
 And stem-browed partisans would bear 
 
 Their leader to his grave. 
 
 But lo ! a woe-struck woman kneels 
 
 To kiss that cheek of clay ; 
 No tear her agony reveals, 
 
 It may not so find way. 
 
THE MOURNERS. 189 
 
 Mary ! mother of the Lord ! 
 
 Are these cold limbs the same 
 With the bright infant s form, that erst 
 
 By thee to being came ? 
 
 Approach, O maid of Magdala, 
 
 Once rescued by his grace, 
 And thou who at his sacred feet 
 
 Hast held a happy place ; 
 And thou, the true disciple, come ! 
 
 Where pierced that Eoman spear 
 The heart is still, that beat for all, 
 
 And thee, of all most dear. 
 
 Thou, who by night hast trembling sought 
 
 To hear his hallowed word, 
 Fear st not, new-born, in this sad hour, 
 
 To own him for thy Lord. 
 And Joseph with thee ministers, 
 
 To whom dark Pilate gave, 
 While conscience blanched his war-stained cheek, 
 
 The body for the grave. 
 
 Weep ! weep ! yet upward let the gaze 
 
 Of faith reviving turn ; 
 The heavens that darkened o er his cross 
 
 With sunset s glory burn ! 
 Trust, mourners, trust ! Still reigns on high 
 
 The God who loves the just ; 
 He can bid life and glory bloom 
 
 From hopes now laid in dust. 
 
MARY AND JOHN, BEFORE THE 
 RESURRECTION. 
 
 Mr mother ! in the awful hour 
 
 When darkness o er us lay, 
 While, fainting by the Blest One s cross, 
 
 My arm became thy stay, 
 Did not his gentle voice then seal 
 
 The bond for thee and me, 
 And give me for the coming time 
 
 To be a son to thee? 
 
 O privilege of all most high 1 
 
 O boon of all most dear ! 
 Still, still, in sweet, sad memory 
 
 That voice I seem to hear. 
 Then come, my mother ! share the cot 
 
 Thy Jesus oft hath blest, 
 Far hence, where blue Gennesareth 
 Expands his peaceful breast. 
 
 The boat lies idle on the strand, 
 The net hangs by the wall ; 
 
MARY AND JOHN. 191 
 
 In happier hour, when hope was high, 
 
 Tor him I left them all. 
 Now, for his sake and thine, I turn 
 
 Back to that quiet sea. 
 Farewell, ye proud and guilty towers ! 
 
 My mother ! come with me ! 
 
 There oft, when eve s advancing shades 
 
 O er hill and lake are thrown, 
 Will we recall the varied past, 
 
 And weep for hopes now gone. 
 Then will we waken slumbering faith, 
 
 And lift our brightening eyes 
 To Him, who e en from this deep gloom 
 
 Can bid the light arise. 
 
 Yes, we will trust ! My thought retains 
 
 Words of mysterious power 
 The Loved One spoke, as o er his soul 
 
 Darkened the destined hour. 
 That he should rise again ! O joy ! 
 
 But ah ! for hope too dear ! 
 Some mystic meaning sure was there, 
 
 That time shall render clear. 
 
 Perchance another, in his might, 
 
 With burning words shall come, 
 And lead repentant Israel forth 
 
 To mourn above his tomb. 
 Perchance his rising will be there 
 
 Where we with him shall rise, 
 To meet the Father s smile of love, 
 
 In yonder holy skies ! 
 
192 MEDITATIONS IN VERSE. 
 
 But now, the night in watching spent, 
 
 How glorious breaks the day ! 
 The sisters hasten to the tomb, 
 
 The last sad rites to pay ; 
 And lo ! our brethren s scattered band 
 
 Are gathering mournfully, 
 All here, except that sacred form 
 
 We never more may see ! 
 
ZEAL AND LOVE. 
 
 ON, on, Crusaders, once again, 
 
 To Salem s trembling towers ! 
 The Moslem ranks resist in vain 
 
 Your consecrated powers. 
 Spare not the unbelieving horde ; 
 
 On, for the cause divine ! 
 And soon the banner of the Lord 
 
 On Zion s height shall shine ! 
 Cease your wild shouts ! Once on this hallowed air 
 Rose from the cross the dying Saviour s prayer, 
 " Father, forgive ! " 
 
 On patriots, in your country s might ! 
 
 Her injured honor calls ! 
 Before her vindicated right 
 
 The insulting foeman falls. 
 Taste the stern joy of battle s hour, 
 
 And let your standard wave 
 Above your country s conquering power, 
 
 Or shroud her slaughtered brave ! 
 But ah ! do deeds of blood his impress bear 
 Who uttered once, for Judah s race, the prayer, 
 " Father, forgive " ? 
 17 
 
194 MEDITATIONS IN VERSE. 
 
 The Church ! By open foes beset 
 
 And treachery s hidden wile, 
 She bids her children trample yet 
 
 On error s serpent guile. 
 The anathema has slept too long ; 
 
 Now let its thunders burst 
 On those who lead the unwary throng 
 
 To heresy accurst ! 
 
 Yet pause ; no sound on Calvary s mournful air 
 Rose to the throne of God, save that meek prayer, 
 " Father, forgive ! " 
 
 Forward, ye champions of the age ! 
 
 Plead for God s holy truth, 
 With all the strength of manhood sage, 
 
 The energy of youth ! 
 To that abyss whence first they came 
 
 Drive back the brood of night ! 
 "With heart of steel, with tongue of flame, 
 
 Do battle for the right ! 
 Yet, ere ye strive, list to your Master s prayer, 
 Breathed on the cross for those who placed him there, 
 "Father, forgive!" 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF. 
 
 CAN late repentance then repair 
 The ruin of a life of crime ? 
 
 Eternal justice grant the prayer 
 Breathed at the awful goal of time ? 
 
 Can habit s chains at once be burst, 
 The guilt-stained soul at once be pure, 
 
 Sin from her old dominion thrust, 
 And peace and pardon rendered sure ? 
 
 miracle of sovereign grace ! 
 
 Yet who that grace shall dare reprove, 
 Question, God, thy righteous ways, 
 
 Thy boundless power, thy saving love ? 
 
 And humble faith has strength untold ; 
 
 And penitence, transforming might, 
 To turn sin s dross to heaven s pure gold, 
 
 And the soul s darkness into light. 
 
 That faith, in suffering and in scorn, 
 The guiltless Son of God could own, 
 
196 MEDITATIONS IN VERSE. 
 
 And reverence, of repentance born, 
 Viewed in the cross Messiah s throne. 
 
 The Saviour blest that dying prayer, 
 And hope may rise, though near the tomb. 
 
 One pardon found, lest man despair ; 
 One only, lest he should presume ! 
 
PRAYING IN THE NAME OF CHRIST. 
 
 " Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it 
 you." John xvi. 23. 
 
 BY the Saviour s prayer to thee 
 Poured upon the fatal tree, 
 
 Lord ! thy help we crave ! 
 Save from passion s tyrant force, 
 From the stings of dire remorse ! 
 
 God and Father, save ! 
 
 Save from evil habit s power ! 
 
 God ! be thou our strength and tower, 
 
 Thou our sun and shield ! 
 May our souls to thee aspire, 
 And their unseen foes retire 
 
 From the conquered field ! 
 
 Save us in the evil days 
 
 When our earthly strength decays, 
 
 And the couch is spread ; 
 Anxious friends, with footstep light, 
 Watching through the mournful night 
 
 Round our dying bed. 
 17* 
 
198 MEDITATIONS IN VERSE. 
 
 Thou who wast to Jesus nigh, 
 God and Father ! hear our cry ! 
 
 In his name t is poured. 
 He hath led us to thy throne; 
 Hear us through thy blessed Son, 
 
 Our ascended Lord ! 
 
INVITATION. 
 
 COMB to the sacred feast ! 
 Come for the Saviour s sake ! 
 With reverent joy let every guest 
 The hallowed rite partake. 
 
 Think not t is earthly bread ; 
 Think not t is common wine. 
 Of the torn frame, the blood once shed, 
 Behold the mystic sign ! 
 
 Here let the young draw nigh, 
 And give life s golden hours 
 To Him who bids eternity 
 Expand its roseate bowers. 
 
 And here let man s firm tread 
 And woman s step of grace 
 Approach the feast of Jesus, spread 
 Within the sacred place. 
 
 Here let the aged come, 
 Who long has served his God ; 
 
-K 
 
 200 MEDITATIONS IN VERSE. 
 
 Who, calmly hopeful, toward the tomb 
 Treads as his Saviour trod. 
 
 Blest Jesus ! be thou near ! 
 Thy spirit o er us reign ! 
 The perfect love that casts out fear 
 In every soul remain ! 
 
 Father and God ! we own 
 Thy presence round us now. 
 May lives of holiness make known 
 That thou hast blest our vow ! 
 
THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS. 
 
 WE gather to the sacred board, 
 
 Perchance a scanty band j 
 But with us in sublime accord 
 
 What mighty armies stand ! 
 
 In creed and rite howe er apart, 
 
 One Saviour still we own, 
 And pour the worship of the heart 
 
 Before one Father s throne. 
 
 A thousand spires o er hill and vale 
 Point to the same blue heaven; 
 
 A thousand voices tell the tale 
 Of grace through Jesus given. 
 
 High choirs, in Europe s ancient fanes, 
 Praise him, for man who died ; 
 
 And o er our boundless Western plains 
 His name is glorified. 
 
 Around his tomb, on Salem s height, 
 Greek and Armenian bend ; 
 
202 MEDITATIONS IN VERSE. 
 
 And through far Laplands months of night 
 The peasant s hymns ascend. 
 
 Are we not brethren ? Saviour dear ! 
 
 Then may we walk in love, 
 Joint subjects of thy kingdom here, 
 
 Joint heirs of bliss above ! 
 
PBAISE. 
 
 AUTHOR of every good, 
 Giving thy creatures food, 
 Thou bidd st the ocean s flood 
 
 To rise and fall ! 
 T is thy all-ruling might 
 Marshals the host of night ; 
 Thy goodness infinite 
 
 Beams over all. 
 
 Day speaketh unto day, 
 From morning s earliest ray 
 Till evening fades away, 
 
 O God ! of thee. 
 And when the night has spread 
 Her mantle overhead, 
 Then through the darkness dread 
 
 Thine eye can see ! 
 
 i 
 
 Wherever man is found, 
 Thy love that knows no bound 
 Still doth his path surround, 
 
 Father divine ! 
 
n ; 
 
 204 MEDITATIONS IN VERSE. 
 
 Thou giv st the bright spring hours, 
 Thou, summer s leafy bowers ; 
 Fruits which the autumn showers, 
 All, all are thine ! 
 
 But of thy varied store 
 None wins our praises more 
 Than the immortal lore 
 
 Jesus hath given. 
 All the bright gifts of earth 
 Cannot approach the worth 
 Of the celestial birth, 
 
 Heirship of heaven ! 
 
 Thou from whom Jesus came ! 
 Keep us from sin and shame ! 
 Kindle a holy flame 
 
 Within each breast ! 
 Beneath thy loving eyes 
 Still may our souls arise, 
 Till in thy own pure skies 
 
 With thee they rest ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
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