Saviour speaks of a present possession- | thee by the interposition of our sins. How "This day :" thou suedst for remembrance, should there be light in the world without, as a favour to the absent; thy Saviour when the God of the world, the Father of speaks of thy presence with him: thou lights, complains of the want of light within? speakest of a kingdom; thy Saviour of Para- That word of thine, O Saviour, was enough dise. As no disciple could be more faith- to fetch the sun down out of heaven, and ful, so no saint could be happier. O Sa- to dissolve the whole frame of nature, when viour, what a precedent is this of thy free thou criedst, "My God, my God, why hast and powerful grace! Where thou wilt give, thou forsaken me?" O what pangs were what unworthiness can bar us from mercy? these, dear Jesu, that drew from thee this when thou wilt give, what time can preju- complaint! Thou well knewest, nothing dice our vocation? who can despair of thy could be more cordial to thine enemies than goodness, when he, that in the morning to hear this sad language from thee: they was posting towards hell, is in the evening could see but the outside of thy sufferings; with thee in Paradise? Lord, he could never could they have conceived so deep not have spoken this to thee, but by thee, an anguish of thy soul, if thy own lips had and from thee. What possibility was there not expressed it. Yet, as not regarding for a thief to think of thy kingdom, with their triumph, thou thus pouredst out thy out thy Spirit? That good Spirit of thine sorrow; and, when so much is uttered, breathed upon this man, breathed not upon who can conceive what is felt? his fellow: their trade was alike, their sin was alike, their state alike, their cross alike; only thy mercy makes them unlike: one is taken, the other is refused. Blessed be thy mercy in taking one! blessed be thy justice in leaving the other! Who can despair of that mercy? who can but tremble at that justice?

Now, O ye cruel priests and elders of the Jews, ye have full leisure to feed your eyes with the sight ye so much longed for: there is the blood ye purchased, and is not your malice yet glutted? is not all this enough, without your taunts, and scoffs, and sports, at so exquisite a misery? The people, the passengers, are taught to insult where they should pity. Every man hath a scorn ready to cast at a dying innocent. A generous nature is more wounded with the tongue than with the hand. O Saviour, thine ear was more painfully pierced than thy brows, or hands, or feet. It could not but go deep into thy soul, to hear these bitter and girding reproaches from them thou camest to save.

But, alas! what flea-bitings were these, in comparison of those inward torments which thy soul felt in the sense and apprehension of thy Father's wrath, for the sins of the whole world, which now lay heavy upon thee for satisfaction! This, O this was it, that pressed thy soul, as it were, to the nethermost hell. While thine eternal Father looked lovingly upon thee, what didst thou, what neededst thou, to care for the frowns of men or devils? but when he once turned his face from thee, or bent his brows upon thee, this, this was worse than death. It is no marvel now, if darkness were upon the face of the whole earth, when thy Father's face was eclipsed from

How is it then with thee, O Saviour, that thou thus astonishest men and angels with so woful a quiritation? Had thy God left thee? Thou not long since saidst, "I and my Father are one;" are ye now severed? Let this thought be as far from my soul, as my soul from hell. No more can thy blessed Father be separated from thee, than from his own essence. His union with thee is eternal; his vision was intercepted; he could not withdraw his presence, he would withdraw the influence of his comfort. Thou, the second Adam, stoodst for mankind upon this tree of the cross, as the first Adam stood and fell for mankind under the tree of offence. Thou barest our sins; thy Father saw us in thee, and would punish us in thee, thee for us: how could he but withhold comfort, where he intended chastisement? Herein, therefore, he seems to forsake thee for the present, in that he would not deliver thee from that bitter passion which thou wouldst undergo for us. O Saviour, hadst thou not been thus forsaken, we had perished; thy dereliction is our safety and, however our narrow souls are not capable of the conceit of thy pain and horror, yet we know there can be no danger in the forsaking, while thou canst say, "My God." He is so thy God, as he cannot be ours; all our right is by adoption, thine by nature; thou art one with him in eternal essence, we come in by grace and merciful election: yet, while thou shalt enable me to say, "My God," I shall hope never to sink under thy desertions.

But, while I am transported with the sense of thy sufferings, O Saviour, let me not forget to admire those sweet mercies of thine which thou pouredst out upon thy persecutors. They rejoice in thy death,

servants, think much to be exercised with hunger and thirst. when we hear thee thus complain?

and triumph in thy misery, and scoff at thee | to my jaws; and thou hast brought me into in both. Instead of calling down fire from the dust of death?" Had it not been to heaven upon them, thou heapest coals of make up taht word, whereof one jot cannot fire upon their heads: "Father, forgive pass, though thou hadst felt this thirst, yet them, for they know not what they do." thou hadst not bewrayed it. Alas! what They blaspheme thee, thou prayest for could it avail to bemoan thy wants to inthem; they scorn, thou pitiest; they sin sulting enemies, whose sport was thy misery? against thee, thou prayest for their forgive- how should they pity thy thirst, that pitied ness; they profess their malice, thou plead- not thy bloodshed? It was not their favour est their ignorance. O compassion without that thou expectedst herein, but their conexample, without measure, fit for the Sonviction. O Saviour, how can we, thy sinful of God, the Saviour of men! Wicked and foolish Jews! ye would be miserable, he will not let you; ye would fain pull upon yourselves the guilt of his blood, he deprecates it; ye kill, he sues for your remission and life. His tongue cries louder than his blood, "Father, forgive them." O Saviour, thou couldst not but be heard. Those, who out of ignorance and simplicity thus persecuted thee, find the happy issue of thine intercession. Now I see whence it was, that three thousand souls were converted soon after, at one sermon. It was not Peter's speech, it was thy prayer, that was thus effectual. Now they have grace to know and confess whence they have both forgiveness and salvation, and can recompense their blasphemies with thanksgiving. What sin is there, Lord, whereof I can despair of the remission? or what offence can I be unwilling to remit, when thou prayest for the forgiveness of thy murderers and blasphemers?

There is no day so long but hath his evening. At last, O blessed Saviour, thou art drawing to an end of these painful sufferings; when spent with toil and torment, thou criest out, "I thirst." How shouldst thou do other, O dear Jesu, how shouldst thou do other than thirst? The night thou has spent in watching, in prayer, in agony, in thy conveyance from the garden to Jerusalem, from Annas to Caiaphas, from Caiaphas to Pilate in thy restless answers, in buffetings and stripes; the day in arraignments, in haling from place to place, in Scourgings, in stripping, in robing and disrobing, in bleeding, in tugging under thy cross, in woundings and distention, in pain and passion: no marvel if thou thirstedst. Although there was more in this drought than thy need, it was no less requisite thou shouldst thirst, than that thou shouldst die; both were upon the same predetermination, both upon the same prediction. How else should that word be verified, (Psal. xxii. 14, 15), "All my bones are out of joint, my heart is like wax, it is melted in the midst of my bowels; my strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue cleaveth

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Thou, that not long since proclaimedst in the temple, "If any man thirst, let him come to me, and drink: He that believeth in me, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living waters," now thyself thirstest. Thou, in whom we believe, complainest to want some drops: thou hadst the command of all the waters, both above the firmament and below it, yet thou wouldst thirst. Even so, Lord, thou, that wouldst die for us, wouldst thirst for us. O give me to thirst after those waters which thou promisest, whatever become of those waters which thou wouldst want. The time was, when, craving water of the Samaritan, thou gavest better than that thou askedst. O give me to thirst after that more precious water! and so do thou give me of that water of life, that I may never thirst again!

Blessed God how marvellously dost thou contrive thine own affairs! Thine enemies, while they would despite thee, shall unwittingly justify thee, and convince themselves. As thou foresaidst, "In thy thirst, they gave thee vinegar to drink." Had they given thee wine, thou hadst not taken it: the night before, thou hadst taken leave of that comfortable liquor, resolving to drink no more of that sweet juice, till thou shouldst drink it new with them in thy Father's kingdom. Had they given thee water, they had not fulfilled that prediction, whereby they were self-condemned. I know not now, O dear Jesu, whether this last draught of thine were more pleasing to thee, or more distasteful: distasteful in itself, for what liquor could be equally harsh; pleasing, in that it made up those sufferings thou wert to endure, and those prophecies thou wert to fulfil.

Now there is no more to do: thy full consummation of all predictions, of all types and ceremonies, of all sufferings, of all satisfactions, is happily both effected an! proclaimed: nothing now remains but voluntary, sweet, and heavenly resignatio of thy blessed soul into the hands of thine

the last memorials of thy love to thy church; | the water of baptism, which is the laver of regeneration; "The blood of the New Testament shed for remission of sins;" and these, together with the Spirit that gives life to them both, are the three witnesses on earth, whose attestation cannot fail us. O precious and sovereign wound, by which our souls are healed! Into this cleft of the rock let my dove fly and enter, and there safely hide herself from the talons of all the birds of prey.

It could not be but that the death of Christ, contrived and acted at Jerusalem in so solemn a festival, must needs draw a world of beholders: the Romans, the centurion and his band, were there as actors, as supervisors of the execution. Those strangers were no otherwise engaged, than as they that would hold fair correspondence with the citizens where they were engarrisoned; their freedom from prejudice rendered them more capable of an ingenuous construction of all events: "Now, when the centurion, and they that were with him that watched Jesus, saw the earthquake, | and the things that were done, they feared greatly, and glorified God, and said, Truly this was the Son of God."

What a marvellous concurrence is here of strong irrefragable conviction! Meekness in suffering, prayer for his murderers, a faithful resignation of his soul into the hands of his heavenly Father, the sun eclipsed, the heavens darkened, the earth trembling, the graves open, the rocks rent, the veil of the temple torn: who could go less than this, Truly this was the Son of God?" He suffers patiently; this is through the power of grace: many good men have done so through his enabling. The frame of nature suffers with him; this is proper to the God of nature, the Son of God.

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I wonder not that these men confessed thus; I wonder that any spectator confessed it not: these proofs were enough to fetch all the world upon their knees, and to have made all mankind converts. But all hearts are not alike; no means can work upon the wilfully obdured. Even after this, the soldier pierced that blessed side; and while pagans relented, Jews continued impenitent. Yet, even of that nation, those beholders, whom envy and partiality had not interested in this slaughter, were stricken with just astonishment, and smote their breasts, and shook their heads, and, by passionate gesture, spake what their tongues durst not. How many must there needs be, in this universal concourse, of them whom he had healed of diseases, or freed from

devils, or miraculously fed, or some way obliged in their persons or friends! These, as they were deeply affected with the mortal indignities which were offered to their acknowledged Messiah, so they could not but be ravished with wonder at those powerful demonstrations of the Deity of him in whom they believed, and strangely distracted in their thoughts, while they compared those sufferings with that Omnipotence. As yet their faith and knowledge were but in the bud, or in the blade. How could they choose but think, Were he not the Son of God, how could these things be? And if he were the Son of God, how could he die? His resurrection, his ascension, should soon after perfect their belief; but, in the meantime, their hearts could not but be conflicted with thoughts hard to be reconciled. Howsoever, they glorify God, and stand amazed at the expectation of the issue

But, above all other, O thou blessed Virgin, the holy mother of our Lord, how many swords pierced thy soul, while, standing close by his cross, thou sawest thy dear son and Saviour thus indignly used, thus stripped, thus stretched, thus nailed, thus bleeding, thus dying, thus pierced! How did thy troubled heart now recount what the angel Gabriel had reported to thee from God, in the message of thy blessed conception of that Son of God! How didst thou think of the miraculous formation of that thy divine burden by the power of the Holy Ghost! How didst thou recall those prophecies of Anna and Simeon concerning him, and all those supernatural works of his, the irrefragable proofs of his Godhead! and, laying all these together, with the miserable infirmities of his passion, how wert thou crucified with him! The care that he took for thee in the extremity of his torments, could not choose but melt thy heart into sorrow: but O, when in the height of his pain and misery, thou heardst him cry out, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" what a cold horror possessed thy soul! I

cannot now wonder at thy qualms and swoonings; I could rather wonder that thou survivedst so sad an hour. But when, recollecting thyself, thou sawest the heavens to bear a part with thee in thy mourning, and feltest the earth to tremble no less than thyself, and foundest that the dreadful concussion of the whole frame of nature proclaimed the Deity of him that would thus suffer and die, and rememberedst his frequent predictions of drinking this bitter cup, and of being baptized thus in blood; thou begannest to take heart, and to comfort thyself with the assured expectation of the

glorious issue. More than once had he fore- | to be landlord of the Lord of nfe! how well told thee this his victorious resurrection. is thy house-room repaid with a mansion not He, who had openly professed Jonas for his made with hands, eternal in the heavens ! type, and had fore-promised in three days Thy garden and thy tomb were hard by to raise up the ruined temple of his body, Calvary, where thou couldst not fail of had doubtless given more full intimation many monitions of thy frailty. How oft unto thee, who hadst so great a share in hadst thou seasoned that new tomb with that sacred body of his. The just shall sad and savoury meditations; and hadst oft live by faith." Lo! that faith of thine in his said within thyself, Here I shall once lie ensuing resurrection, and in his triumph down to my last rest, and wait for my reover death, gives thee life, and cheers up surrection. Little didst thou then think to thy drooping soul, and bids it, in a holy have been disappointed by so blessed a confidence, to triumph over all thy fears guest; or that thy grave should be again so and sorrows; and him, whom thou seest soon empty, and in that emptiness uncadead and despised, represents unto thee pable of any mortal indweller. How gladly living, immortal, glorious. dost thou now resign thy grave to him in whom thou livest, and who liveth for ever, whose soul is in Paradise, whose Godhead everywhere! Hadst thou not been rich before, this gift alone had enriched thee, and more ennobled thee than all thine earthly honour. Now great princes envy thy bounty, and have thought themselves happy to kiss the stones of that rock which thou thus hewedst, thus bestowedst.

CONTEMPLATION XXXIII. THE RESURRECTION.

GRACE doth not ever make show where it is. There is much secret riches both in the earth and sea, which never eye saw. I never heard any news till now of Joseph of Arimathea; yet was he eminently both rich and wise and good; a worthy, though close, disciple of our Saviour. True faith may be wisely reserved, but will not be cowardly. Now he puts forth himself, and dares beg the body of Jesus. Death is wont to end all quarrels. Pilate's heart tells him he hath done too much already, in sentencing an innocent to death: no doubt that centurion had related unto him the miraculous symptoms of that passion. He, that so unwillingly condemned innocence, could rather have wished that just man alive, than have denied him dead. The body is yielded and taken down; and now that which hung naked upon the cross is wrapped in fine linen; that which was soiled with sweat and blood is curiously washed and embalmed. Now even Nicodemus comes in for a part, and fears not the envy of a good profession. Death hath let that man loose, whom the law formerly overawed with restraint. He hates to be a night-bird any longer, but boldly flies forth, and looks upon the face of the sun, and will be now as liberal in his odours as he was before niggardly in his confession. O Saviour! the earth was thine, and the fulness of it: yet as thou hadst not a house of thine own while thou livedst, so thou hadst not a grave when thou wert dead. Joseph, that rich counsellor, lent thee his; lent it so as it should never be restored: thou tookst it but for a while; but that little touch of that sacred corpse of thine made it too good for the owner.

Thus purely wrapped, and sweetly embalmed, lies the precious body of our Saviour in Joseph's new vault. Are ye now also at rest, O ye Jewish rulers? is your malice dead and buried with him? hath Pilate enough served your envy and revenge? Surely it is but a common hostility that can die; yours surviveth death, and puts you upon a further project: "The chief priests and Pharisees came together unto Pilate, saying, Sir, we remember that this deceiver said, while he was yet alive, After three days I will rise again; command, therefore, that the sepulchre be made sure till the third day, lest his disciples come by night, and steal him away, and say to the people, he is risen."

How full of terrors and inevitable perplexities, is guiltiness! These men were not more troubled with envy at Christ alive, than now with fear of his resurrection. And what can now secure them? Pilate had helped to kill him; but who shall keep him from rising? Wicked and foolish Jews! how fain would ye fight against God, and your own hearts! how gladly would ye deceive yourselves, in believing him to be a deceiver, whom your consciences knew to be no less true than powerful! Lazarus was still in your eye: that man was no phantasm; his death, his reviving was undeniable; the so fresh resuscitation of that dead body, after four days' dissolution, was a manifest conviction of omnipotence. How do ye vainly wish, that he could deceive O happy Joseph, that hadst the honour | you in the fore-reporting of his own resur