will be difficult to make them good in His presence, [who has said of works of charity,] "Inasmuch as ye did them not to one of the least of these, ye did them not unto Me;" and who, on sending forth His teachers as lambs among wolves, assured them, for their consolation and support, "He that despiseth you, despiseth Me; and He that despiseth Me, despiseth Him that sent Me."

These, my brethren, are considerations which appear to be in a great degree applicable to our case as well as to those for whose instruction St. Paul charged Timothy. May we lay them to heart, and profit by them.

PORTIONS OF SERMONS.

1. THE INCARNATION.

CIRCUMSTANCES so great and astonishing as [are presented to us in the Gospels,] are, in their very nature, beyond the reach of our faculties. There is something too, in the very familiarity of our acquaintance with them, which prevents our being impressed with them as we otherwise should be. As we cannot recollect [a time] when they were new to us, so we are unable to conceive the feelings they would have excited if we had become at once, and of a sudden, acquainted with them.

But, besides this, we are apt to get into a careless and slovenly way of thinking on sacred subjects,. and when we read the Bible, talking of things as matters of course, [which,] if we heard of them from any other source, would excite in us the most lively interest. They seem to have taken place, as it were, in a world different from our own; and it requires some effort to keep in mind how closely and immediately we are concerned in them.

We find it difficult to imagine that, in such a

place as this we live in, and to people like our own acquaintance, God was manifested in the flesh; and, though we talk of it as a real occurrence, we are too apt to look on it as a sort of vision. Otherwise we should see men leading very different lives from what they actually do, and showing their sense of the great things God has done for them, in a very different manner.

Now against this inconsiderate turn of mind, it is our duty to be most especially on our guard; and whenever such occasions as [the Christmas season] present themselves to us, we should try, by every means in our power, to bring home to ourselves the events which we commemorate. We should go over in our minds all the particulars which may help us to appreciate their importance, and personally to connect us with them.

Let us suppose that instead of Almighty God, some stranger of our own species, but of a rank and character vastly superior to our own, was to make his appearance among us, and become our visitor. Let us suppose that, after having been allowed to live familiarly with him, and to regard ourselves as his friends, we all at once discovered that he was some great king or hero, one who had nations and armies at his command, and who, if he pleased, had the power to destroy us as well as to show us kindness. What would be the necessary effect produced by such a visit from such a person? Would not the respect and affection which we

might otherwise have entertained for him, be immediately united with the highest awe and veneration? Should we not look up to him with a deep and silent interest, and try to discover, in all his ways of thinking and acting, indications of that greatness which elevated him so far above ourselves? Surely not even the most trifling points, such as his appearance and manner, would pass unnoticed by us; we should treasure up all his sayings with the most careful attention while he was among us, and take every means of retaining them in our memory when he had withdrawn himself from among us. Even the minutest circumstances of his sojourn among us would be dwelt on by all those who had been so fortunate as to enjoy his company, and stories about him would be handed down to their children, as something which they were to take a pride in remembering.

In the case I have been hitherto supposing, the chief cause of our admiration would be the astonishing condescension of our visitor. But suppose, in addition, that he had also conferred on us the greatest benefits, by information which he communicated to us, that he had taught us the cure of painful diseases, and showed us how to turn to advantage the soil and climate which it was our fortune to enjoy.

Or, to put a case still more analogous, suppose, some obscure tradition had prevailed among us, that we did not originally belong to the country which we now inhabited, but that, like the Jews in the

captivity, we expected some day a glorious return to a better place, and a nobler fortune; now if in these circumstances, the great stranger, of whom I am speaking, was to assign, as the object of his coming anong us, his desire to confirm the truth of this tradition, and to instruct us in the modes of living which would be necessary in order to fit us for our higher destiny, I do not imagine that we should, on this account, be likely to feel less interest in his person, or pay less attention to his advice. If, in the first case, a sense of his condescension and an admiration of his greatness, were sufficient to fix our minds upon him, we should hardly be affected less powerfully by the knowledge that our highest interests were involved in what he taught us.

Neither does it make the case so very different, if we suppose ourselves, instead of being ourselves his companions and disciples, to have come to an exact knowledge of all he taught and did, through the instruction of others. As long as we were absolutely certain that he was that great king and hero, still we should be equally interested in knowing all we could collect about his intercourse with our friends. And as long as we believed that we must really fit ourselves for filling a different station in society, and taking up the habits of another nation, we should be equally anxious to make out every thing that he had told us about either, and equally careful to act on his suggestions.

And if we should feel all this, as we most un