JESTING WITH SCRIPTURE.

THERE is a practice which is fearfully common, even among professors of religion, and from which, alas! ministers of the Gospel are not always free, which cannot be too severely condemned, as offensive to God, and injurious to the best interests of man. We allude to the practice of connecting ludicrous anecdotes with passages of Scripture. We know by sad experience, and we appeal to the experience of others for the confirmation of the remark, that so lively is the impression which is often produced on the mind by the association of something grotesque with certain texts of the Bible, such passages can hardly be read in the most serious moments, without bringing up to the mind some idea which it requires a strong effort to prevent from producing a smile. This is one abuse of sacred things not less displeasing to God, than under the Old Testament it would have been to desecrate from a holy to a common use the sacred implements of the temple, the holy anointing oil, or the hallowed fire of the altar. If to put new wine into old bottles, or to sew a new patch on an old garment be unwise and incongruous, how much more so to prostitute the sacred words of inspiration to point a jest for the amusement of a social circle! To do so, in the presence of the young, is peculiarly injudicious. Here the maxim of the Roman satirist is especially applicable: Maxima debetur puero reverentia.

Jeremy Taylor forcibly remarks on this subject: "Some men used to read Scripture on their knees, and many with their heads uncovered, and all good men with fear and trembling, with reverence and grave attention. For all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is fit for instruction, for reproof, for exhortation, for doctrine, not for jesting; but he Othat makes that use of it, had better part with his eyes in jest, and give his heart to make a tennis-ball; and that I may speak the worst thing in the world of it, it is as like the material part of the sin of the Holy Ghost, as jeering of a man is to abusing him; and no man can use it, but he that wants wit and manners as much as he wants religion.”—Presbyterian.

AN EXAMPLE.

WHY should not we love God as well as ever Abraham did? God gives the word: "Abraham, take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and offer him for a burnt-offering. And Abraham rose up early in the morning," &c. (Gen. xxii. 1-3.) Had he not loved God, so far as the creature can love God, infinitely, every word would have been as a dagger to his heart. As if he had said:

"Abraham,-I gave thee that name, from thy being a father of many people;' but now be thou the death of that seed which I intended to multiply." God seemed to change his name to Abraham, as Solomon named his son Rehoboam, "an enlarger of the people," who enlarged them from twelve tribes to two!

Take now-No time to demur upon it. Thy son-So many years prayed for, and waited for. Thine only son-All the rest of thy children are not worth thy owning.

Isaac-The son of thy laughter, now the son of thy sorrow.

Whom thou lovest-More than ever father loved a child, and that upon several justifiable accounts.

And get thee into the land of Moriah-Though no time to deliberate before thou resolvest, yet time enough for repentance before thou executest thy resolutions.

And offer him there for a burnt-offering-It is not enough to give him up to be sacrificed by another, but thou thyself must be the priest to kill thy lovely child, and then to burn him to ashes.

And Abraham rose up early, &c.—He quarrels not with God: "What, doth God mean to give me such a command, as never to any one else in this world?" He consults not his wife: "O what will Sarah say?" He sticks not at what might expose religion: "What will the Heathen say?" You may well suppose great strugglings between nature and grace; but God seemed to press upon him with this question: "Whether dost thou love me or thy child most?" Abraham doth, as it were, answer, "Nay, Lord, if that be the question, it shall soon be decided, how and where thou pleasest.”—Annesley.

A COMMON FOLLY.

Do thy passions begin to rise in arms? Do they grow disordered and unruly? Let thy reason come out to them, and ask, whether they know their master; and let thy soul blush, with infinite scorn, that ever these base slaves should usurp the throne of their rightful lord, and unman thee, by deposing reason, which is all thou hast to show that thou art not a beast! What an extreme silly thing is a man in passion! Nothing can be more ridiculous and contemptible. Out of love and pity to thyself, O mun, do not affront and disgrace thine immortal soul any more, by suffering any malapert and saucy passion to outrage and assassinate thy reason. That was a generous rule of Pythagoras: "Let a man use great reverence and manners to himself." Be ashamed, friend, to do any vile or dishonest action before thyself. Gibbon.

CHRISTIAN CONVERSATION.

IF you meet with a physician, all your discourse shall be something about your health. If you meet with a traveller, you are presently inquisitive about the places he hath seen. Why should not Christians, when they meet, converse like Christians, and presently fall into a heavenly dialogue? Christians, this you know-there must be a forsaking of all wicked company, ere you can pretend the least love to Christ. Mistake me not: I do not mean that the bonds of family relations must presently be broken; that husbands and wives, parents and children, masters and covenant-servants, must presently separate if one of them be ungodly. No; where the relation is such as cannot be dissolved without sin, then those that are godly must converse with the ungodly, as physicians with their sick patients. But this is it I say, You must not willingly and out of choice make God's enemies your familiar friends. Those that are always speaking well of God insensibly draw out our hearts in love to him. When Christ's spouse had told the daughters of Jerusalem what Christ was more than others, they presently offer themselves to seek him with her. (Cant. v. 9, vi. 1.) As "evil communications corrupt good manners" (1 Cor. xv. 33), so good communications correct evil manners. -Annesley.

silent contemplation as we read that he wept. Our Creator, our Lord, our God, he on whom the decision of our future state depends, our Judge, the Almighty Lord of heaven and earth, whom all the angels worship, at whose feet all the heavenly host lay down their crowns, wept, yea, shed warm and bitter tears. Be amazed, my soul, and adore! O that I could perceive the depth of this mighty wonder-that I could sufficiently comprehend its import! JehovahJesus wept. That he was angry-that with divine power he drove the buyers and sellers out of the temple-at this I wonder not. That his justice, which burns to the lowest hell, should be made manifest—that "his eyes" are "as a flame of fire"-that, under the influence of his frown, everlasting destruction shall overtake all who have not obeyed the Gospel-that the heavens and the earth shall flee away from his presence, and no place be found for them dear hearers, I do not wonder at this; for he is Jehovah, a holy and jealous God, and nothing that is unclean can stand before him. But O that he wept! this is wonderful.

How clearly do the love and benevolence of the Father shine forth in the tears of Jesus! How apparent here, to a world of sinners, is the Saviour as the Son of Man! And how these tears entitle him to the name of the Lamb of God! He had a human heart; he felt as a man. The deepest sorrow overwhelmed his spirit; and pressing heavily upon him, was made manifest by sighs and bitter tears. He wept, and was not ashamed of his tears. He is God; yet he wept. As our High Priest he wept; unlike the boasted heroes of antiquity, who assumed a forced hardihood that made them ashamed of tears. No, no; he had become man, and shed tears even as other men; and, as one of the sons of Adam, he is not ashamed even thus to be styled our brother.

Dear hearers! although he has now resumed the glory of his Father, his heart is still the same. Seated at his Father's right hand, he is still the same Jesus who walked on this earth in the days of his flesh-" Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." As he was before the foundation of the world, so was he in the depth of his humiliation; and the same feelings which characterized him during his pilgrimage here, are even now his own. True, since his Father crowned him with glory and honour, he has ceased to weep; yet those feelings have not become strange to him which made his tears flow while he sojourned upon earth. That which then moved him, moves

him still; that which then called forth his zeal, awakens it still; that which then filled his heart with joy, gladdens him still. O what a comfort to the heart of a poor sinner to be assured that He who is the dispenser of heavenly blessings, and on whom the salvation of our souls depends, is man even as he is God! With what confidence may not we approach him, as we remember his tears, and pour out our souls into his great heart of love! With what unlimited trust may not we tell him of all the sorrows that oppress us, since we know that he is no despotic lord, but is, and ever will be, our faithful Jesus. Verily, my poor heart, thou needest such an High Priest, if thou wouldst not draw back in terror, if thou wouldst not be dumb before him. "We have not," however, "an High Priest who can not be touched with a feeling of our infirmities; but was, in all points, tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us, therefore, come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help us in time of need."

But over what did he weep? "He beheld the city, and wept over it." Dear hearers! when we weep, our tears flow for ourselves, or because of something which nearly concerns

us.

If we are crossed in something—if our schemes are thwarted-if, in consequence, we are oppressed with grief or overwhelmed with sorrow, then we weep. Even the strongest are constrained to weep, when cast into the furnace; of affliction. There are also tender souls which can easily be made to weep, whether by the narrative or the view of suffering. But so far from being deeply seated is the impression thus made, that in a little they may be seen to smile, even as they had wept. Their tears are often the result of mere weakness, or of a peculiar constitutional sensibility of soul. But it was not thus that the Saviour wept. He wept not for himself.

He was now drawing nigh to the gates of Jerusalem. Behind him were the three and thirty years of his weary pilgrimage. Deep humiliation, many and bitter sorrows, had he experienced. Stormy had been his course through life. A dark, dread future lay before him. His last conflict, his sufferings and death of shame-all this was full in his mind's eye. He saw before him that place which was to be the scene of his deepest abasement. Who could have wondered, though his strength of mind had failed him? who could have wondered, though he had wept as he thought of his long course of sufferings which were to end so fright

fully? who could have wondered, if the thought had arisen in his breast-Ah! thou poor sheep destined for the slaughter, here thou art to earn the bloody reward of thy love. This would have been no weakness. And yet he wept not for himself: "He beheld the city, and wept over it."

O, my heart! be lost in the greatness of the heart of Jesus. Consider what a Saviour, what a High Priest thou hast. Jerusalem, that great city of great sinners, lay, spread out as it were, before him. God had long done many great things for that city and its inhabitants. He had given them his law; he had sent unto them his servants the prophets. Patiently had he borne with their faithlessness and idolatry. As a tender mother, he had led them by the hand. He had spared no pains with Israel. In a very wonderful manner he had made known to them his mercy. Jerusalem was his vineyard. He had

fenced it, and gathered out the stones thereof." He had “ planted it with the choicest vine," and had "built a tower in the midst of it, and made a wine-press therein." He had “looked that it should bring forth grapes;" but it had "brought forth wild grapes." Jesus beheld these wild grapes; and, when he looked on them, he wept.

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God had done for Jerusalem even more than this. He had sent his Son. Jesus had appeared, and preached to its inhabitants God's counsel of love for the salvation of sinners. He invited them to enter into the kingdom of God. He spake with power. He made his divinity evident by signs and wonders. He was prophet, mighty in word and deed." After his ascension he sent unto them other prophets and apostles. Many miracles were wrought, that they might believe; yet they continued unmoved. All was esteemed by them as nothing. They rejected the Son. They took him, and nailed him to the cross. They called down the curse, not the blessing, of his blood upon their heads. They persecuted and put to death the prophets and apostles. They put far away from them God's matchless love. Jesus wept, because they were so hardened. He knew that, because of the hardness of their hearts, they were drawing down misery on themselves, in time and for eternity. In spirit he saw the city besieged, destroyed, laid low. He beheld woe descending upon it-its children scattered in wretchedness over the face of the earth, sighing and weeping for generations. The Father had sent his Son into his garden, to dress and to keep the fig tree which he had planted. For

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three long years had the gardener laboured diligently that the tree might bear fruit; and three times had the Lord of the vineyard come to see whether fruit was brought forth by the tree of which such care had been taken. But it brought forth none. "Then said the Lord of the vineyard, Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground? And he answered, and said, Let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it: and if it bear fruit, well: and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down." These four years were now ended; and still there was no fruit to be seen. The axe, in consequence, was laid to the root. The compassionate vinedresser could no longer plead for it. He must say yea and amen to its destruction. But he did so with tears.

And now, behold once more the loving heart of our dear Saviour! What see you there? Assuredly nothing but the most generous, the most merciful, love to sinners. No thoughts of his own sufferings are mingled with his tears. In this noble heart there arises no wrathful feeling against the men who were so soon to bring him to such a death of shame. How should he, whose love to sinners made him die for them-how should he who prayed for his murderers while they nailed him to the cross, experience emotions of wrath? Behold this man of love-of love unparalleled! In him you see no sparks of the fiery zeal of Elias. No: he wept-he wept over his people's sins. He wept for his enemies; not because they rewarded his good with evil, but because they drew down upon themselves the wrath of God, and would not consider the day of their visitation.

O what mercy is here! These tears of the Saviour bear witness that it is his indeed to seek and to save lost sinners. These tears proclaim, far more plainly than words, that towards sinners he is full of compassion. And is he indeed my friend? is he indeed our God? Then I may freely ask, Who is like Jesus? whose heart is like his heart? whose love is like his love? whose Saviour is like our Saviour? He is the incomparable, the unspeakable friend of sinners.

Poor soul, knowest thou this friend of sinners? Hast thou tasted somewhat of his love? Hast thou looked into the depth of his mercy? Livest thou in his love? Or must he still sorrow over thee? Must he still sigh and weep, and say, "If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes?" I know well that there are many here who do

not consider the time of their visitation; who keep far away from Jesus-far away from his great, his wondrous love; who "mind" only earthly things;" who walk after "the course of this present evil world.". Oh, be convinced that the Saviour has the same heart towards you, towards each one of you, as he had towards Jerusalem; that he loves you as he loved Jerusalem; that he bears you on his heart as he did Jerusalem; that he would rejoice over you if you knew his love, as he would have rejoiced over Jerusalem, if that city had known the day of its visitation; that he sorrows over you who are hardened in sin, as he sorrowed over Jerusalem.

We dare not think as if it were with him a matter of indifference whether sinners should be saved or not. We dare not imagine that our salvation lies as little at his heart as it often does at ours. No: there is a heart yonder that beats toward us with more than a mother's love; that takes the deepest interest in our fate, and, in connection with it, may experience the intensest sorrow, or the most perfect joy. If the Saviour were one to whom we owed nothing, he might take no interest in our lot. But what shall we say if he does? There is, indeed, a mystery in this which we cannot comprehend. But let us try to look into it. It can never be a matter of indifference to any one whether he is beloved or not, even though he should not be closely related to those whose esteem he desires. But Jesus, by whom we are loved, is not thus far removed from us. He has given us being; he has supported us and cared for us all our life long. To him we are indebted for the air we breathe. He gives us the food we eat. We have nothing which we have not received from him as a free gift. But what do I say? He is the Saviour; and in this one sentence all is said. For the salvation of lost souls he took upon him the form of sinful flesh; for this he subjected himself to inexpressible shame and contempt; for this he died the cursed death of the cross; for this he became a man of sorrows," a martyr without equal; for this he became a city of refuge; for this he bore the mighty load of the wrath of God, even that he might deliver sinners from eternal damnation, and exalt us to glory. Behold his love! Behold the bleeding, fainting, dying 'Jesus, extended on the cross as a curse, and sinking down into the dark night of death; and all for our sakes-all for the sake of the souls that were dear to him. And can it be that we are not affected by such a manifestation of love

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-can it be that we fail to appreciate this man of love? Can we make his heart still more sorrowful? Can we grieve him still more! Can we crucify afresh the crucified one? Oh, "how shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?"

Satan saw plainly that the Saviour had come to destroy all his works and well-built fortresses; so he gathered all his bands against him, and, as he thought at the time, gained the victory. Yes; when the great Shepherd of the sheep was made a curse for us, the triumph of the devi and sin seemed as if complete. But it was not so in reality; for all was according to the "counsel of God." Justice behoved to be executed on the body of Christ, that sinners might be saved. "He was made sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him." Satan, by his wickedness, was an instrument in God's hand to crush, his own head. The martyred body of Jesus was placed between us and sin. In that body we have the clearest testimony how unspeakable is the Saviour's love to the sinner-but also how unspeakable is his hatred of sin. By the power of that body, all, even the finest and most unseen threads which attach us to sin, may be unloosed. As Jesus died unto sin, so may we also, by the power of his death. As he arose from the dead, so may we also walk with him in faith, by the power of his resurrection. Great and blessed secret, concealed from the world, and from the wise men of the world, but made known to the poor, the simple, and the unlearned! All, however, will be made plain on the resurrection morning. Then will an assembled universe see with its own eyes how gloriously, how completely, Jesus Christ has thus in eternal love saved the believing sinner from sin, and changed him into the glorious image of God. Then it will be made apparent that there was nothing wanting in this great work. Then will it be seen how much, how very much, Jesus loves the sinner, and how much he hates sin. And it will be seen also, that he has vanquished it. Behold the love of Christ!

But if a man hears all this without laying it to heart, he hardens his soul in sin, which he knows well the Saviour hates, and from which he knows that he cannot be saved but by faith in him. In such circumstances he will sink deeper and deeper in sin-he will become stupi fied. Think not, dear hearers, that it is a matter of indifference whether you obey the Gospel call or not. The preaching of the love of God