In Jerusalem he recognised the favoured city, which he had chosen out of the whole earth, to place his name there; the residence of his peculiar people, the centre of the true religion, the sanctuary of the oracles of God. Before him lay, in one connected view, those palaces where he had been a sure refuge-the gates of Zion, which he loved-the Temple which he had called his house of prayer, and where his glory had dwelt between the cherubim.

Add to these, our Saviour's human recollections. "Bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh," the blessed Jesus was alive and true to every pure and tender feeling of man's nature; and doubtless bare, upon his heart, many fond remembrances of Jerusalem. He called to mind those early years, in which one day in God's courts was better to him than a thousand. His parents, we are told, went to Jerusalem, every year, to the feast of the passover. His pure and healthful soul was filled with gladness, when they said unto him, "Let us go into the house of the Lord;" when he "went to the house of God with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holyday." That memorable occasion was, perhaps, peculiarly endeared to him, when, unable, as it were, to tear himself from the beloved spot, he tarried behind his parents at Jerusalem,

answers.

and was found in the midst the doctors, astonishing all that heard him, by his understanding and All those feelings which the Psalmist so beautifully describes, when he "longed, yea fainted, for the courts of the Lord," and when he "preferred Jerusalem above his chief joy,”—in these tender sentiments the incarnate Saviour sympathised, with all the peculiar, patriotic, and ardent attachment of a Jew. They were written, with the finger of God, upon his heart, and burst from him in that torrent of grief, at which, if there be sorrow in heaven, the angels might have wept: "If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace!—but now they are hid from thine eyes.”

But, my brethren, when Jesus wept thus over the beloved city, he contemplated an event just now at hand, in comparison of which, all his former mercies were but as the small dust of the balance. Nigh unto Jerusalem, his death was to be accomplished. The clouds were gathering, and all things were now preparing for that hour of darkness, when the Lamb of God was to offer himself as the great sacrifice of atonement upon the altar of the cross. The noble army of martyrs, and all the prophets, from the foundation of the world, whose blood was to be required of that generation, arose, by a natural association, to his

view. They had trod the dreadful path before him nor could his human weakness have failed to derive supplies of fortitude and patience, from the consideration, how they had borne their sufferings, and been carried through the fiery trial.

in

When we view our Saviour, under these affecting circumstances, and behold the Lord of glory, brought down to these the lowest depths of sorrow and of humiliation for our sins; his claims upon our gratitude, and upon the entire affections of our heart, are, you will admit and feel, triumphantly made out. But if we would do full justice to these claims, we should take some instance in which his humiliation is seen, immediate contrast with the height of majesty from which he descended. For this purpose, I have often thought it would be well to take the Scriptures, and write down those passages, on the one hand, which record the high and enraptured praises, addressed to the Son of God, in heavenly places; and those, on the other hand, which detail the revilings and reproaches which assailed him in his earthly pilgrimage; and then to compare the two together, when placed in juxtaposition before our eyes. A few examples I shall quote. In Isaiah, the seraphim are represented as covering their faces, and crying to him: "Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts;

VOL. II.

C

the whole earth is full of his glory." In the Revelation, the blessed angels are exhibited as round about his throne, in number ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, and saying; "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing." This is the song which angels and archangels sing. But no voice, save that of God, can show forth all the Redeemer's praise. Hear, then, the language of the eternal Father to his co-equal Son. "Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever." "Thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the works of thine hands: they shall perish, but thou remainest; and they all shall wax old as doth a garment, and as a vesture shalt thou fold them up, and they shall be changed; but thou art the same, and thy years shall not fail." Compare, I say, these wonderful expressions, from the mouth of God himself, with the bitter and contemptuous scorn to which the blessed Jesus was accustomed in the days of his flesh. Compare them with such specimens as these: "As for this fellow, we know not whence he is:" Say we not well, that thou art a Samaritan, and hast a devil?" Compare them with the loud voices which cried, "Away with him, away with

66

him, crucify him!" or with the unfeeling insults which mingled with the dying groans and parting agonies of the Lamb of God: "Thou that destroyest the Temple, and buildest it in three days, save thyself; if thou be the Son of God, come down from the cross." It is, I say, in the view of these extremes, as far as our limited capacities can combine them-it is in the contemplation of the glory of God, veiled in the ignominies of a malefactor's death, that we can best comprehend the length, and breadth, and depth, and height, of that love which passeth knowledge. And if jealousy be as I have stated —if it be always in proportion to the sense, that we have highly benefited, and deeply loved, the object of that passion,-how may the divine jealousy burn like fire for ever against those for whom a Saviour has, in vain, endured the cross, and despised the shame!

There is an additional consideration here, which I cannot avoid suggesting, though, I trust, I do so with reverential awe. We know that men of generous minds often feel a keener resentment of the injuries done to those they love, than of the injuries inflicted on themselves. And may not such be the case in that adorable Trinity who formed us in their own image?

In the parable where the Almighty is said to