open the guilt of men and the justice of God, by telling his disciples and the people to listen to the teachers who sat in the chair of Mosaic authority, to obey them as far as they taught the law in its purity and simplicity, but not to imitate their example in pride or covetousness or licentiousness. But then the meek and lowly Jesus assumes the character of universal judge; and, in terms of the most awful majesty and merited severity, arraigns them as guilty, and utters that sentence which he alone is entitled to pronounce and to administer. From one step to another, in the disclosure of their unworthiness and excuseless iniquity, he advances in terrible repetition and overawing denunciation of their conduct. They had not only rejected and opposed the preaching of the gospel of truth, but had used every exertion to prevent others from entering this kingdom of heaven. The widow and the fatherless they oppressed, but cloaked their cruelty by the garb of pretended devotion. Their boastful and ardent prayers would condemn them, and aggravate the sentence. They would travel over the world to make a convert to their belief, and then make him ten times more bigoted in error, and a child of perdition, than before. They perjured themselves in their most solemn adjurations, and explained away their guilt by glozing sophistries and open profanity. They annulled the very spirit of the law by resting the important part of its obedience on ceremonial and outward trifles. They cared not for inward holiness of heart, provided they could impose upon the people, and get the character of sanctity, while they were abominable in the sight of God. They boasted of their veneration for the saints and prophets of old, but in everything showed that they were as opposed to the doctrines of those prophets as their fathers, who rejected and slew them-they hated, and persecuted, and slew the prophets of their own day. He therefore told them plainly, that they had nearly filled up the cup of their iniquity, that they were rushing to the brink of that destruction which they had brought upon themselves, that they were ripe for "the damnation of hell." Yet, notwithstanding all this, they would yet have time allowed to repent; apostles and inspired teachers would be sent to testify to the truth, and to prove its doctrines. He told them that even these they would disbelieve and reject and murder, till the provoked patience of God, within that very generation, would exact upon the impenitent nation the delayed vengeance for all the blood which had been shed since the beginning of the world. Such terrible denunciations must have been uttered with a vehement power which silenced and overwhelmed all attempt at interruption or reply. The judge of all the earth was in the courts of his own palace-had taken the throne of authority, and spoke with that paralyzing terror which overawed the trembling tribes under the fiery throne of judgment, which, amid the lightning and thunder of heaven, shook the mount of God in the wilderness.

But, behold! the Saviour of infinite mercy weeps over the predestined doom of that guilty and unbelieving city, which their perverseness and wickedness compelled him, in such terms of terror, to pronounce as a warning, as well as a threat. In the agonizing anticipation of the crushing weight of the sin and the suffering of the world, he had already sent up, from the depth of his obedient humiliation, the earnest petition, that the cup of unmingled woe should pass from him. In the ardent strength of his love to man, and deepest sympathy in those unexampled miseries, which he foresaw, he put up the desire of his heart, that, if it were possible, God would reverse the sentence of eternal justice, and compel the people of his ancient choice to come under the tent of his mercy, besprinkled with the blood of his covenant of reconciliation. Like David, on the thrashing-floor of Araunah, he saw the sword of vengeance unsheathed in the hand of the angel of destruction, and still paused, with yearning compassion, to see if perhaps there might be some chance of repentance. Throughout the whole of his mediatory government, "judgment is emphatically his strange work," and love and compassion appeared and predominated, even in that sentence, which, in mercy, as well as holy displeasure, he pronounced. He lingered yet a little under the gorgeous porches of that house of his Father, now devoted to destruction, and pointed out to his disciples the difference between outward show and the real spirit of devotion, in the conduct of the poor widow, who cast in her apparently contemptible contribution, and that of the great and the wealthy, who cast in to the sacred treasury their munificent sums of gold and silver. He knew the sincerity of her motive, the greatness of her sacrifice; he knew the ostentation of the popular display of the others, and awarded his approbation, for the instruction of his disciples, not according to the splendour of the offering, but the purity of the heart that brought it.

This was the last time that Christ publicly visited the temple, or appeared before the Jews to strive with their obstinate unbelief. He had given every prophetic proof, but the concluding and crowning one, that he was indeed the "hope of Abraham,” "the son of David;" he had used every argument which Divine wisdom could devise, and more than human eloquence urge, to persuade and convince the people of God, that he was their promised deliverer; and now slowly and in sorrow he left that temple, in which his presence and Spirit had dwelt in glory and power for so many generations. It is difficult to judge of the motives of men, at all times, from the words of which they make use, but we cannot be very far wrong in conjecturing what were the thoughts of the followers of Jesus, when, as they retired from this "house of God, this palace of the King of holiness," they called his attention particularly to the unrivalled splendour of its structure and ornaments. They hoped that he would soon enter

that palace in the triumph of victory over those enemies whose doom he had so lately pronounced, and that the stupendous building, with all its munificent treasures, would be theirs. They had forgot that he had prophesied that this house of the glory of God would be left desolate; but he now told them that not one stone should be left upon another-those towering minarets which glowed in golden effulgence in the departing rays of the evening sun, should be levelled with the dust, though built to brave the effacing march of time, and the rage of the elements. Not satisfied with this, four of the apostles came to him, when he was seated on the mount of Olives, looking in compassion upon that wicked and infidel city whose destruction he had pronounced and lamented. It was to be buried in the dust of ruin since he had declared it, but they still hoped it was only that he might rear a more magnificent palace for that universal kingdom of earthly power, the idea of which they could not throw aside. They were therefore anxious to know when these things should happen, when the end of the world, or of that dispensation, would take place, and what would be the sign of his coming.

Their Divine teacher saw that they entertained false ideas and foolish hopes, and directed his answer accordingly, in one of the most terrible prophecies which a God of mercy and justice ever uttered against the guilty race of man. He told them that, before that time, many false prophets and false Christs should arise, promising deliverance, and should deceive many to their destruction. Mutinies and insurrections and the desolation of war, were to precede that day; signs in heaven and on earth should announce it; the earthquake, the famine, and pestilence, should precede the coming of the Lord. These were all only the beginning of troubles; persecutions of the most terrible kind should cause many of his followers to apostatise; the nearest relations should betray each other; his disciples should be brought before judges and governors and kings; they should be beat and persecuted and slain. Yet, notwithstanding all this discouragement and grievous suffering, they should not be afraid; that they were under the protection of God, and not a hair of their heads should perish, but that they should proclaim the doctrines of his kingdom in all the world. So much in general; but he told them that that glorious and impregnable city and temple should be surrounded by the desolating abomination of the Roman armies which they dreaded, and that sufferings, such as the world had never witnessed, and would never again behold, would be endured by those who continued in the city, and trusted to its strength. When they saw those signs, he forewarned them to flee to the mountains, to put their sole trust in God, and pray to Him, who, for their sake and that of his chosen flock, would shorten the days of this unequalled tribulation. The destruction of the city itself is described in the most awful language that the

imagination of man can conceive. It is as if the dissolution of universal nature were portrayed, the sun should be darkened, the moon give no light, the stars fall from heaven, the solid pillars of the firmament be shaken, the trembling of the earth and the roaring of the sea would spread perplexity and dismay among the nations. From this fearful picture of vengeance, he diverges to the coming of the Son of man in the clouds of heaven to the general judgment, preceded by the angels sounding the trumpet of God, to call all nations before him. All this prophecy of ruinous destruction he mingled together, and told them that that generation should see it, though it would come upon them unexpectedly, as the flood came upon the world in the days of Noah. But they were forewarned, and would escape, if they watched attentively for the signs which he had given them.

To inculcate this duty of ceaseless vigilance, and to encourage them in it, he delivered a number of very striking and appropriate parables, the objects and truths of which are of a much more general application than to the events which were thus predicted, and soon to take place. In that of the ten virgins, he shows the difference between those who sat at ease in Zion, who lived in careless confidence in the possession and imaginary enjoyment of the outward privileges of his gospel, and those who kept them in active and habitual exercise, at all times looking toward the object of their hope, and ready to enter upon it. In the parable of the talents, which he delivered a second time, in a somewhat different form, he inculcates the duty, as well as necessity, laid upon every one, of cultivating and improving the various advantages which God has bestowed, and shows the folly and miserable fate of them who neglect this, upon any pretence or excuse. He shows that it will be no justification to plead that we have done his cause no harm, that we have injured no one. All our advantages and privileges are bestowed upon us for the purpose of being devoted to the cause of God, of advancing his glory and kingdom in the world. Finally, he sets forth, in very minute and striking particularity, the mode of his proceeding, and the rule which he will follow, when he comes to the last and great judgment of the world. The Son of man shall descend from heaven in his glory, with the angelic host of the holy ones of heaven around him; he shall sit down on the great white throne of universal judgment, and all nations shall be gathered before him; the good shall be separated from the bad, and he shall award them their eternal sentence, according to the deeds they have done in this life. It is remarkable, that it is works of charity and mercy alone that are mentioned as the proof of the righteous being his faithful servants and followers, and the neglect of these as the cause of the rejection and punishment of the wicked. Not as if love to God and desire to advance his glory, not as if faith in Christ and zeal in establish

ing his kingdom, and all the duties of spiritual holiness, were not necessary and indispensable proofs of that character, which alone shall procure the approval and blessing of the Judge, for he himself told the scribes that love to God was the first and great commandment; but, as in a court of assizes in this world, acts and not principles and professions are founded upon, so, in the grand final judgment, the test and proof by which the principles of every one will be justified before the assembled universe will be the active effects and fruits which these produce. The apostle James asks, "If we love not our brother whom we have seen, how can we love God whom we have not seen?" Christ, by then proving that the wicked have neglected the lesser but ever present duty of doing good to our brethren, will show that there could be no love to God, no keeping of the commandments of him whom we have not seen.

While our Saviour was thus looking down in deep compassion on that wicked city, self-devoted to final ruin, and pronouncing its doom, and warning his own followers how to avoid that destruction, his allseeing eye observed his hypocritical and implacable enemies gathered in council plotting his destruction. He knew their guile and cruelty, and that their deeds of darkness loved the cover of the night. Though he had friends in the city who would have gladly received him under their roof, he had, ever since he came near its guilty walls, always left them before the cloud of darkness descended, and spent its silent watches either in the mount of Olives or in the village of Bethany. But he had now fulfilled his public mission of instruction and warning, and the passover, at which he was to be offered up as the lamb slain in symbol from the beginning of time, was within two days. He went, therefore, for the last time, to that friendly village, taking his abode in the house of Simon, whom he had cleansed of leprosy. It was here while he sat at meat that another grateful penitent poured a box of ointment upon his head. Many consider this as the same testimony of female affection which was shown to Jesus when he came first to Bethany, on this present occasion, but it is obviously different in all its circumstances. The first was in the house of Lazarus, and was poured on his feet; this in that of Simon, and poured on his head. This excited the displeasure of a number of the disciples, as well as of Judas, who all thought that it was an unnecessary piece of extravagance to be repeated within the same week. "It might," they said, "have been sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor." Christ not only justified, but highly commended, the deep spirit of piety which had prompted this sacred anointing before his burial, and gently censured the pretended care of the covetous disciples for the poor, whom they had at all times with them, while they knew he was soon to be taken from them.

Whatever were the motives of the other disciples, and with whatever meekness or compunction they

man.

bore that censure of their thoughts, and that high commendation of the object of their displeasure, it is certain that incurable avarice was the ruling vice of Judas, the traitor and thief. He thought or felt himself peculiarly aimed at in that reproof. The evil spirit took thorough possession of his covetous and disappointed heart. He arose in the impetuosity of that blinded passion, deserted his master, went to the city, where, it seems, he found the equally enraged council still deliberating in the palace of the high priest, and bargained with them for thirty shekels to deliver his master into their hands. Such an offer they eagerly grasped at, and entered into his terms. All the evangelists agree in stating that disappointed avarice was the ruling motive which inspired Judas with this most diabolical resolution which ever entered into the mind of sinful But such treachery on the part of one who must have known the character of Christ so fully gives rise to deeper inquiry. It is evident that he would not be a witness against his Divine master; the priests did not even offer to bring him forward, which they most certainly would have done had they been able to use his evidence in proof of any imposture. He would have been their first and safest; but though it is not mentioned, we may conclude that he refused such an impossible condition. These considerations lead us to the conclusion that deeper and more powerful, though still collateral motives, entered into the mind of the traitor, through this leading avenue. His attachment to that master whom he could not but believe to be the Christ, seems to have arisen from the eager hope of worldly riches and worldly power which he expected under his government as a temporal prince. He, as well as the rest, had been long anxiously expecting the establishment of that kingdom of their hope, as we have all along seen; but he evidently was more disappointed than all the rest at the delay, although he could have no doubt that Christ had the power and means to establish it when he chose, and we have no doubt that he was one of the most enthusiastic that shouted the hosannah song of “God save the son of David," as the triumphal procession advanced a few days before into the city. We may well imagine that in the folly and madness of his disappointed hopes, he resolved to bring the matter to a decisive crisis. He had no doubt, we shall suppose, that, if Jesus were brought into the presence of the high council, he had full power to defend himself, to assert his authority, to gain over those who were now his enemies, and establish his kingdom at once, in the manner which the worldly disciple had fixed with himself was the only predicted messiahship. We think that such a supposition is sufficient to account for all his conduct, and there is nothing in the narrative of the evangelists inconsistent with it, but rather the contrary. Jesus repeatedly told them that one of the party should betray him; but he always predicted that he would rise again, and