more beautiful illustration of the contrast so powerfully intimated by the apostle, between the corrupt and glorified body, than that suggested by the grovelling caterpillar and the gorgeous butterfly. Every insect-transformation of this kind, not only reiterates the challenge “Why should it be thought a thing incredible, that God should raise the dead!" but suggests a very delightful comparison between the "greater glory" of that spiritual economy which is to supersede the poor fettered feeble frame-"the body of this death,"-in which the renewed soul must necessarily "groan being burthened," whilst waiting for the unclouded disclosures of its better home above.

THE PASSING SAVIOUR.

THE Bible is full of truth and nature, especially in its delineations of the human character. The same motives, principles, passions, and feelings, which now actuate us in all our undertakings, appear to have been called into exercise by the varied characters portrayed in the Old and New Testaments, though we are too often disposed to regard these characters as differing to a great extent from the common orders of humanity. The courteous policy of the handsome Absalom, for example; the self-seeking hypocrisy of his adherents, and the cruel vacillation of the mob, ready at any moment, to turn round upon the best of sovereigns, have all their representativeș in our own age and country. And what can be more pathetic and affecting from its very truthfulness, than the portrait of the exiled king himself, humbled to the very dust by the sins which had cost him, not his throne only, but what he esteemed as infinitely dearer, the light of his Father's countenance, and the protecting favor which had hitherto compassed him as a shield. He had no heart to throw back the cruel execrations hurled at him by Shimei; it was filled to bursting, with a sense of enormous guilt, the weight of which he only felt the more, because it had been committed against a God, whom he knew, had love enough, and more than enough to cancel it entirely and for ever! His thoughts dwelt upon those seasons of unbroken and unclouded communion with the Most High, when he had been hidden, as it were, in the secret of his tabernacle, closeted

with the Heavenly Majesty, and filled with faith, and light, and love, and blessedness. But now he was a poor outcast, seeing only in his temporal troubles, the type of spiritual banishment; and yet confident that he should again enter into God's sanctuary, and pour out in tears, what he had before poured forth in praises the broken and contrite heart that knew so well how pray, "Pardon my iniquity, FOR IT IS GREAT!"

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In the New Testament, too, we find the same artless, but affecting exhibitions of human nature; the same graphic touches of life, in all its relations, political, social, or domestic. A picture is presented to us in one short sentence, that strikes home to the heart, and assures us that the persons, places, incidents, and objects introduced, belong to the same world in which we live, and move, and have our being. This is especially remarkable in the simple, but matchless narratives of the holy evangelists, in which the events of our Saviour's life and mission are placed before us in such a way, that we not only see them, but we see nothing else; the writer and the writing are both kept out of sight, and there in all its original completeness and simplicity, the performance itself is enacted. No; it is not enacted; there is nothing of theatrical shew about it; but it kindles through the mists of eighteen centuries, as the sun streams through the dews of morning; and lives, and breathes, and speaks again before us.

In those days of glorious privilege and aggravated wickedness in which the Saviour took upon himself our nature-in which, amidst the wonder and worship of "all the angels of God,” the First Begotten of the Father was brought into the world, the incident occurred of which we are now more particularly to speak. He who went about doing good had come nigh to Jericho, upon one of those missions of love, to which his whole public life was devoted. A crowd had gathered round him, drawn together, it would appear, by feelings very similar, to those which in the present day, influence assemblies of the like character. All the usual accompaniments of public spectacles were, no doubt, observable on this occasion; the hurried tread of feet; the shouts of the more boisterous; the curious questioning of others; the rude struggles for the better posts of observation; the jeers of the less curious, or the disappointed; all these, with other

concomitants of a disorderly procession of idlers, might be seen and heard, where the little cloud of dust rising through the warm air, indicated the direction which that unruly, but intensely interesting procession had taken. But there was one who saw nothing of all this; a poor afflicted beggar by the way side; and yet he was destined to be a most important party in the wonderful events of that day. We will not, ourselves, attempt to bring him before you; we can add nothing to the sketch furnished by "the beloved Physician," without spoiling it. "It came to pass, as Jesus was come nigh unto Jericho, a certain blind man sat by the way side, begging: and hearing the multitude pass by, he asked what it meant. And they told him that Jesus of Nazareth passeth by. And he cried, saying, 'Son of David, have mercy on me! And they which went before, rebuked him, he should hold his peace: but he cried so much the more, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!' And Jesus stood and commanded him to be brought unto him: and when he was come near, he asked him, saying, 'What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?' And he said, Lord, that I may receive my sight.' And Jesus said unto him, 'Receive thy sight; thy faith hath saved thee;' and immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying God and all the people when they saw it, gave praise unto God." (Luke xvii; 35-43.)

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"Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!" The queen of the south had come from far, to hear the wisdom of Solomon: but Solomon himself had contemplated with overwhelming awe, the coming of Jesus of Nazareth, when, more than a thousand years before, he exclaimed, “Will God in very deed dwell with man upon the earth!" Yet here He was; living, walking, speaking among the sons of men; flesh of their flesh, and bone of their bone. He did not stand amidst the anxious and excited crowd in all the glory of his kingly character, but companied with them as the Nazarene; poor as themselves, and bearing all the contempt associated with the place where he had been brought up. He made himself of no reputation; and those who were themselves despised, ventured into contact with him. To those who waited for the consolation of Israel, there was no music like the cry that heralded his coming, "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by !" Do you see that grey old sanctuary in the little valley at your

feet? The turf around it has been broken up by the mattock and the spade; and in its green seclusion, lie the fathers of the village whence we look down upon it. Come nearer; stand within its porch, and listen to the ivy swaying in the summer wind upon its mossy walls. You can hear nothing else, unless it be the tinkling of the sheep-bell, or the twitter of the redbreast, now and then. But hark! the house is shaken with the voice of praise; the songs of Zion are ascending from a thousand tongues, and the hearts of all become as the heart of one man. You ask what it means? to you it is a mystery; but those within, see "visions of God." They are holding converse with the Highest; they are putting forth the hand of faith, as they sing of Moses and the Lamb; the shout of a King is in the midst of them; "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!"

Yes, my dear young friends, he is in that place as surely, and, to faith as evidently, as he was at Jericho He is there to bear all your sicknesses of soul; to heal all the diseases of a bruised and broken heart; to impart the same strength, and grace, and virtue, as when his bodily presence blessed the earth. But to you, poor unenlightened, unconverted one, he stands amongst that little flock, unknown. O, join the happy company; enter into his courts; look through the ministrations of his house for Jesus! His eye is on you; his heart is with you; the travail of his soul is for you; and he only asks the glance of faith.

Are you threading your way through the crowded streets of some great thoroughfare? The place is full of stirs; and sights and sounds of all kinds call off your attention, and engage your thoughts, as you stand by, to let those wranglers hurry past. You have entered, almost unconsciously, the lobby of some lowly meeting-house. You lift the curtain from the little window; and every knee within, is bowed in prayer. You hear nothing; but the very stillness has a tongue, and you feel and own a strange and undefined impression. You ask what it means. Faith has only changed its attitude, and its locality; and the self-same answer waits you; "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!"

And is it nothing to you? Enter, and with that prostrate

flock, cry for mercy to the Son of David. He who inhabiteth

eternity is waiting for you there; go and mourn for his sorrows,

who with strong crying and tears, poured out his soul for you. Look on him whom you have pierced; touch but the hem of his garment, and you shall be made whole, every whit.

You are seated in your lonely chamber after the fatigues of a day spent in the pursuit of "fugitive, false good." Bitter remembrances are awakened, and you think of all you have done amiss, or left undone. You are uneasy and excited; a mysterious feeling of dread comes over you, and as conscience whispers of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, it deepens into a "horror of great darkness." For a moment, in this lull of the stormy world of business, you realize your weakness ; the utter uncertainty of human hopes; the lightning speed of the last enemy. You want an anchorage; a hold when every thing is whirling from beneath your feet, and feel that you are reversing the apostle's experience, in having all things and yet possessing nothing. It is a season of concentrated anguish and alarm; conviction is awakened; the terrors of the Lord are arrayed before you; and you know not how to flee from the wrath that seems ready to burst upon you. But the growing thunder-cloud may be pierced by the upward glance of faith; it is but His chariot who rides upon the wings of the wind, who is more mindful of your wants, than your transgressions; and whose eye, whilst it searches out your sins, can never disregard Jesus of Nazareth passeth by." your sorrows;

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In the black and dark night, musing over his lonely lamp, sits one immersed in study, harrassed by some great moral problem that he cannot solve. The farther he searches into its elements, and its relations, the farther does he seem from comprehending it; he cannot understand the why and wherefore; he cannot reconcile effect with cause; he cannot satisfactorily adjust its several parts. But now a gleam of light breaks in, shining more and more clearly, till the perfect day invests his argument with unexpected radiance. All opposition is silenced; all contradictions are explained away; the rays concentre in one focal point; and there, speaking peace, as he once spake to the troubled waters, "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by."

See how his glance of love lights up that haggard and bewildered face, and softens all its lines to holy adoration. And yet in Him who works this wondrous change, we see no beauty