sensible, than at that moment, of the pleasure of possessing an exalted station. The gratification arising, from the consciousness of having it in his power to assist a suffering fellow-creature, almost overpowered him; and putting a purse into the hand of the young villager, he could only say, 'Continue to take care of your mother; I shall soon enable you to do so more effectually. Good-bye, my amiable girl, you may depend on the promise of your King. On his return to Stockholm, Gustavus settled a pension for life on the mother, with the reversion to her daughter at her death.

THE CHRISTIAN'S VOYAGE.
Toss'D with rough winds, and faint with fear,
Above the tempest, soft and clear,
What still small accents greet mine ear?
"Tis I; be not afraid.

'Tis I, who wash'd thy spirit white;
'Tis I, who gave thy blind eyes sight;
"Tis I, thy Lord, thy Life, thy Light;
"Tis I;
be not afraid.

These raging winds, this surging sea,
Bear not a breath of wrath to thee:
That storm has all been spent on me:
"Tis I; be not afraid.

This bitter cup, I drank it first,
To thee it is no draught accurst;
The hand that gives it thee is pierc'd:
Tis I; be not afraid.

Mine eyes are watching by thy bed,
Mine arms are underneath thy head,
My blessing is around thee shed:

"Tis I; be not afraid.

When on the other side, thy feet
Shall rest 'mid thousand welcomes sweet,

One well-known voice thy heart shall greet; "Tis I; be not afraid.'

From out the dazzling majesty,
Gently He'll lay His hand on thee,
Whispering, 'Beloved, lov'st thou me?
'Twas not in vain I died for thee;
"Tis I; be not afraid.'

EXAMINE YOUR CONDITION.

SINCE there is no middle way, no middle state, you are, at this moment, either condemned or uncondemned; either not forgiven or forgiven; either lost or saved. Have you reason to fear that the former is your lot? O, pray for grace at once to cast yourself at the Saviour's feet! for, according to the principles the Lord Himself has laid down, you are His foe till you

become His friend. You are an enemy till you are a child. You are lost till you are saved. You are cursed till you are blessed. You have all blessings in His love and favour, or all curses in impenitence and indecision. You are a rebel till you receive Christ. There may be some dispositions to penitence in your breast; there may be some desires after religion; there may be some esteem for the Lord Jesus; but still you are a rebel, till you receive Him as your Lord and your all. A country rebels against the most benevolent of Monarchs. The King sends His Son with overtures of mercy. This exalted Messenger of His Father's love, invites and entreats these rebels to submit, and to receive mercy and pardon. Part of them scorn His offers and Himself. Part of them persist in obstinate rebellion; but a part waver; think of the mercy proffered; feel half disposed to yield; at times advance, as if going to cast themselves at the prince's feet; seem ready to throw down their arms; do all but yield. Yet they are rebels still, as truly as their more obstinate companions. At length some of them throw down their arms; cast themselves at their injured Sovereign's feet; yield, and welcome His mercy. Till that moment they were rebels. From that moment they are rebels no longer.-The application is easy. Thus many sinners act. They listen to the Gospel; profess to venerate its Author; seem to advance almost to His mercy-seat, and to His bleeding cross. They appear ready to cast themselves at His feet, yet do not quite submit. Alas, they are enemies still! enemies while halting! while wavering! while delaying! and never do they become children, till they, in effect, cast themselves at His feet, with 'Lord, save or I perish! Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?'

THE MIDDLE AND END OF THE GREAT CRISIS;

OR,

THE PASSION ON THE CROSS.

CHAPTER VI.

REMARKABLE EXCLAMATION. THESE Considerations, which it is unnecessary to extend further, naturally con

duct us to the remarkable exclamation which our Lord uttered amid the agonies of crucifixion, 'Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?' or, My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?'

It would appear that our Saviour was at or near the point of death, when He uttered these remarkable words, and that He uttered them not once, but twice; for both Matthew and Mark agree in testifying, that before yielding up the Ghost, He cried again with a loud voice; and while doing so, it is reasonable to suppose that He repeated the very same expressions, or at least some other expressions of the same sombre cast. It is not said by the two first Evangelists, that our Lord, when on the cross, made any other remark than the one we are now considering: but both Luke and John record other sayings beside this; and it is not improbable, that He may have spoken more than what all of them have recorded. Luke relates an interesting conversation that passed between Him and one of the thieves, in which he assured the repentant and believing criminal of immediate salvation, in these most gracious terms, Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise. He also informs us that He generously prayed for His murderers, during their very act of crime, in these brief but ever-memorable words, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do;' and that before expiring, and shortly after His loud and pathetic exclamation, He said with the profound piety that had ever marked His character, Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.' These were certainly His last words; for Luke immediately adds, that having said this, He gave up the ghost.' But John makes mention of other three circumstances omitted by the other Evangelists; the first of which is, that our Lord commended His mother to the tender charge of the beloved disciple, who from that hour acted the part of a son, and took her unto his own home secondly, that Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished, said, 'I thirst' and thirdly, that when He had received the vinegar, which they inhumanly offered to allay His thirst, He also said, 'It is finished.' These have been sometimes termed our Lord's seven cries from the cross; and surely the gravest and most significant of them is the sad and solemn

:

exclamation that forms the title of this chapter.

Now, as we have remarked above, He might have made some more observations than those which the Evangelists have been led to record, although it is probable they have reported the most interesting and important of His sayings. These notices, however, few and brief as they are, cannot be studied with too much care, for they communicate to us information of the very highest value. From them we learn that our blessed Lord, even in the midst of His passion, never lost sight of the public character which He sustained on earth, and which indeed He had come from heaven to sustain. When He said, I thirst,' He did so for the purpose of fulfilling the Scriptures; and the affecting exclamation,' My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?' is found in the 22d Psalm, where David gives a very full prediction of the awful scene on the Mount of Calvary. Our Lord applies this prophetic description to Himself, and there can be no doubt, that the Psalmist had been moved by the Holy Ghost to write the very words which His 'Son and Lord' was to utter in the hour of His crucifixion. What a noble proof is this of our Saviour's fortitude of mind! At the very moment of His deepest agony, His attention is not wholly directed to His own sufferings. He thinks not exclusively of Himself, but of others. He prays for His murderers. He promises salvation to His fellowsufferer. He provides for the future comfort of His parent. And even when He does allude to His own circumstances, He in a manner merges all consideration for self in His public character; and when privation, weakness, and pain, urge Him to say, 'I thirst,' and to exclaim, 'My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?' He is only saying what it was predicted He should say, and by thus fulfilling the Scriptures, is furnishing to the Church the most striking additional proof of His divine mission.

CHAPTER VII.

PROBABLE EXPLANATION.

BUT let us consider the precise meaning of this remarkable exclamation. How is it possible that God could have forsaken Christ, when He had already, as we have

seen, pronounced Him 'His beloved Son in whom He was well-pleased,' and when Jesus Himself, while hanging upon the cross and just before breathing His last, piously commended His spirit to His Father's care? In answer to this question, we observe, that the forsaken state in which the Saviour then felt Himself to be, was merely a temporary state : it continued only for a short time. Perhaps it might be correct to say, that it commenced at the time our Lord felt His agony to be severest, and to betoken the approach of death, and continued till the period or till near the period of His final expiration—perhaps till that dread moment when He exclaimed, 'It is finished.' It may fairly be presumed, however, that it was not the mere pain of dying that moved Him to use these pathetic words, though they are words quite appropriate to one placed in His wretched circumstances. We have good reason to suppose that there was much more in His sufferings than the mere agony of crucifixion. The peculiar exigencies of His mediation furnish ample ground for this supposition. For it must never be forgotten, that our Lord was not suffering on His own account: He was suffering for sinners; He was the substitute of fallen man; He was bearing the load of a whole world's offences and crimes. How truly dismal, then, must have been His condition! How exquisitely poignant His feelings! How unutterably painful His sense of the withdrawal of His Father's favour, nay more, of the positive infliction of the Divine resentment! For at that moment, though perfectly innocent, He was reputed guilty-guilty not of one crime, nor even of many crimes, but of the sins and iniquities of the whole fallen race of Adam. And though He was the Son of God, and ever dear to God, yet He was also the Son of Man, and was bearing at that moment the trespasses of all the sons of 'men in His own body on the tree.' And surely, in such circumstances, it was just for God to withdraw from Him the light of His countenance: to leave Him for a season to the blackest darkness of sin, to the hottest vengeance of hell; utterly to desert and forsake Him for a limited time; entirely to cast Him off for a little from His paternal fellowship, sympathy, and love, covered as He was with the accumulated guilt of our apostate

race, and most fully deserving (in this imputed sense) of the Divine anger, wrath, and curse.

This was the truly horrid condition in which the Saviour was then placed. He was passing through the wine-press of the Father's wrath. The malice of devils and men was then let loose against Him. His body was tortured by the pain of crucifixion, and His soul was the troubled seat of the deepest anxiety and gloom. His mental woe might even be said to exceed His corporeal agony. None of the sons of men had ever been placed exactly in His circumstances, and none at any future time will ever be placed in them. He was in a peculiar manner 'smitten of God and afflicted:' no sorrow was ever so acute as His sorrow. He lay oppressed under the weight of a whole world's sins, and to all but Himself (who was both God and man) the burden must have been intolerable. Yes, alas! in order to satisfy the double claims of justice and mercy, the Lord laid on Him the guilt of us all. 'He was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities. The chastisement of our peace was upon Him. By His stripes we are healed.' For us He was betrayed by the perfidy of His friends: for us He was condemned by the malice of His enemies. For our sakes, He was brought as a lamb to the slaughter. For our sakes, He was made an offering for sin. For our sakes, He was cut off out of the land of the living. His painful trials in our behalf began in the manger at Bethlehem, and terminated only on the Mount of Calvary. It was the darkest and bitterest period of His persecuted life, when He was stretched upon the cross; and, doubtless, it was the sharpest moment of this dread season, of this hour of hellish rage, when he was heard to exclaim, 'My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me??

CHAPTER VIII.

FIRST REFLECTION.

THE supernatural darkness that covered all the land, was thus singularly accordant with the deep distress of mind and body, in which the Saviour was then involved; and there is no wonder that a death, which was so different from all others, and undergone for a purpose so infinitely

important, should have been distinguished by circumstances of so impressive and miraculous a nature. Upon the singularity of the phenomena, however, it is unnecessary to dwell any longer, as they have already been commented upon at considerable length. We shall, therefore, draw this short treatise to a close, by offering two practical reflections on the subject, which may tend, in some degree, to enliven our piety, confirm our faith, or improve our obedience.

What a wonderful proof of the Divine love does the crucifixion of our Divine Master afford!

The death of Christ was entirely voluntary on His part. He consented to die, and the Father consented to accept of His mediation. And what, let us ask, prompted Him to substitute Himself for us, and suffer the punishment which should have fallen upon us? It was, kind reader, the greatness of His love to us. He was aware of our unhappy condition, and His bowels of compassion were moved toward us. He saw none able or willing to come to our aid, and therefore His eye pitied us, and His own arm brought salvation to us. And how did He bring it? Alas! in this most extraordinary way-by leading a life of persecution and woe, and suffering on the cross the cursed fate of a malefactor. How wonderful then was His love! It would seem to be as infinite as His power, or His wisdom, or any other of His adorable attributes. Who can comprehend its height or depth, its breadth or length? 'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends; but God commended His love towards us, in sending His Son to die for us while we were yet sinners, and therefore enemies to Him.' No wonder that the angels are astonished at it, and desire to look into it. And why do we not aspire to imitate them? Why are we all so much at fault in this matter? We do not think on the exceeding greatness of God's love (and this remark applies to the very best of us); we do not think of it as often as we should do, nor does it inspire us with that lively, pious emotion which it ought to awaken in our hearts. And yet no duty is so binding, nor should any be so pleasing as that of loving God, in return for the unspeakable mercy He has shown to us; and let us assure the reader, that they who are found

wanting in this most essential grace, cannot truly believe in the Gospel history of the Divine loving-kindness towards us; for if this belief were firmly rooted in their minds, it could hardly fail to inspire them with sentiments of the most devoted affection to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is so worthy to be loved from the infinite excellence of His own character, and who has done so much to make Himself loved by His gracious dealings towards us, when we were placed in circumstances of the most appalling perplexity and distress.

CHAPTER IX.

CONCLUDING REFLECTION.

THE contemplation of our Saviour's death should lead us to hate sin, and shun even the appearance of it.

It was sin that nailed the Redeemer to the cross, that brought a worse than Egyptian darkness over all the land,—and that moved the holy Sufferer to exclaim, 'My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?' Sin, indeed, is the cause of both pain and death. All men suffer, and all men die, because they have all sinned and come short of the glory of God. Look at the mischievous effects of sin, and you must think it accursed, and flee from it as the ruin of the soul. If sin, even when it was not His own, but ours, could make God forsake His only Son, how much more certain is it to make Him forsake us? Let us not deceive ourselves on So momentous a point. The Bible assures us, that if we do not separate ourselves from sin, it will make an eternal separation between God and us. And if God do forsake us, how unutterably wretched must be our condition! In the presence of God, and in His presence alone, are light and joy: in His favour, and in His favour alone, are life and peace. If, then, we are driven for ever from the presence of God, and deprived for ever of His favour, we shall of necessity be plunged into darkness and misery, into ruin and despair. Our darkness will be as thick as that which overspread the Mount of Calvary; and instead of hanging over us for three short hours, it will cover us through the lapse of eternal ages. The frightful lot of damned spirits will be our everlasting portion; and not a single gleam of hope will cheer

our minds amid the gloomy wretchedness of our unaltered and unalterable condition. This is a dark picture; but look at Christ suspended on the cross, and you will not think its darkness overcharged. But it is dark only to the sinner, I mean the hardened and impenitent sinner; and it cannot be too dark to him, that, if possible, he may be moved by it to flee from darkness unto light. The Son of God has come down from the fatal tree: He has ascended to His former seat of glory, and is now shining upon us as the Sun of Righteousness, that He may give light to us in the way of our pilgrimage, and direct our erring steps to that highly-favoured city of rest,' which has no need of the sun, neither of the moon to shine in it; for the glory of the Lord does lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.' Into this blessed, thrice blessed place, all who truly repent of their sins, and sincerely believe in Jesus Christ, and endeavour to obey His holy Gospel, shall assuredly be permitted to enter. It has been prepared for them before the foundation of the world. It has been purchased for them by their Lord's obedience unto death. It is kept in reserve for them by His living and ever-active guardianship. Their introduction to it, then, is as certain as omnipotence can make it. And, O how enviable will be their enjoyments, when they are raised to that exalted scene! They shall stand before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His temple; and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more: neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of water: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.'

SAVING KNOWLEDGE.

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confidence; until we behold things temporal, and things eternal, in their true relative proportions; until we entertain an adequate view of the deformity of vice, and of the beauty and influence of virtue; until, above all, we have been impressed with the boundless mercy of God in Christ Jesus, and, with the eye of faith, have beheld the unspeakable beauty and grace of the Beloved of souls. Now, in order to the attainment of this just view-this essential, practical knowledge—of Divine things, it is indispensably necessary, that the perverted moral optics of fallen men should be changed and rectified. This work can be effected only by the Holy Spirit, who not only causes the truths of Christianity to be outwardly revealed to us, but bestows on us that sound experimental sense of them, which is alone effectual for our regeneration and sanctification. It was the prayer of the Apostle for his Ephesian brethren: 'That the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give unto you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of Him: the eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that ye may know what is the hope of His calling, and what the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints, and what is the exceeding greatness of His power to us-ward who believe.' That such saving knowledge of the Truth is foreign to our own nature, and is wrought in us by the Holy Spirit, the same Apostle has expressly determined in the following comprehensive passage. The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. But he that is spiritual judgeth all things.'

With this Divine illumination of the understanding, respecting God and Christ, sin and holiness, life, death, and eternity, is closely connected a corresponding change of the heart or the affections. Those who have attained to a spiritual

of the Supreme Being, can scarcely fail to fear, honour, love, and desire Him above all things. Those who have been enabled, by Divine grace, to embrace any adequate view of the comparative nothingness of things temporal, and of the unsearchable depth and importance of eternity, will not