sional appropriation of human thoughts. If his assumption of our nature was an infinite stoop of grace demanding our adoration, his adoption of any of our thoughts (though not to be named as a comparison) was only and adjunct and continuation of that grace.

Besides, this probably is only to be regarded as one of the numerous methods by which he was constantly aiming to lessen the impression which must have frequently returned on his hearers-as far as that impression was likely to interfere with his usefulness-of his mysterious and imcomprehensible character. He knew with a perfection of knowledge, that as the great and beneficent operations of nature are produced, not by abrupt and extraordinary interpositions, but by the calm and regular movements of its appointed laws; so, ordinarily, a method of instruction which violates the sanctuary of our settled associations, though it may startle, and astonish, and even fill with wonder for the moment, is far from friendly to the lasting conviction and future improvement of the mind; and, therefore, he disturbed their accustomed trains of thought as little as was consistent with the introduction of a renovating power, a new and transforming economy of truth. He sought access to their minds, by the beaten pathway of their most familiar associations; he insinuated and intertwined his divine instruction with the net-work of their most hallowed recollections and sympathies; thus providing for it the easiest mode of admission into their hearts, and making them feel that his identification with their nature and interest was complete. But, at the same time, whatever of their most popular and admired lore he condescended to employ, he gave them an opportunity of marking his superiority to the most approved and honored of their rabbinical teachers; for, however great its original excellencies might have been considered, it came from his

hands beautified with a simplicity, dignified with a power, and invested with attractions, unknown to it before.

In order that he might obtain admission through the common avenue of our sympathies, and build himself a home in our hearts, he drew his images and illustrations from the great treasury of our household affections, and from the most familiar features of nature. But the lily of the field, as plucked by his hand, has the freshness of the morning, and the dew upon it; and the homeliest fact, as unfolded by him, is found to contain the most treasured truths. Thus, by deriving his illustrations from humble sources, he not only avoided taking our feelings by surprise, he showed us how all unperverted knowledge tends towards heaven by a law, and how all unsophisticated nature, rightly construed, is only an expanded page of holy writ; how every part of Eden and of earth must have teemed, and been vocal, with wisdom to the attentive ear of unfallen man; and how to the mind which mirrors and reflects the lines and aspects of nature, truth may still be said to spring out of the earth.

But though we could not have passed entirely unnoticed the circumstantial originality of the Saviour's teaching, it is time to show that his claim to this quality arises from merits peculiarly his own; from additional revelations, and momentous disclosures of divine truth. Had he only

he even read

commented on the volume of nature, had from the book of the universe the names and titles of its author, our advantage comparatively would have been small indeed. That volume was originally meant only for the eye of sinless humanity. It uttered no prediction, awoke no presentiment of the fall; in no part of its hallowed contents could a line be found foretokening woe. The morning of the day of transgression dawned on the world, unconscious of the impending change. The sun

poured forth as full a flood of living light: the air was as rich in fragrance and song; earth and heaven appeared to live in each others smiles; nature lay open at as fair and bright a page, as at the moment when God complacently pronounced it to be very good. The tremendous catastrophe of that day took it by surprise. So far from furnishing man with resources for the event, it was itself involved in the calamity; it was 'cursed for his sake.' So far from being able to utter a consolatory truth in human ears, it required itself to be solaced and sustained, for it lay prostrate and panting under its Maker's frown. Wounded by the stroke, and cumbered with the weight of sin, it sent forth a cry, in which all its natural harmonies were drowned; a cry of helplessness and of suffering, which has never from that moment ceased, but which has gone on from age to age, waxing louder and louder, till the whole creation has become vocal with woe, 'and groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now,' laboring in its pangs and struggling to be free.

So far from showing commiseration, and whispering hope, there is a sense in which all nature stands ready to avenge the quarrel of God with man. Take as examples, the histories of Pharaoh and Herod. When the former refused to obey the mandates of heaven, all nature expressed its sympathy with its injured Maker; armed in his behalf, and put itself in motion to avenge the insult. The latter affecting to be thought a god, forthwith an angel, jealous of Jehovah's honor, descends and smites him and, at the same moment, the meanest insects begin to devour him: the highest order of created intelligence, and the lowest form of animal existence, the two extremes in the scale of creation, unite to prostrate and punish his impiety. It will be found, in the history of the divine justice, that every element of nature has taken its turn, as a minister of wrath,

to assert the quarrel of God with rebellious man.

And, be it remembered, that one of these elements is held in reserve for the destruction of the world; he has only to speak, and it will wrap the globe in living flames. Meanwhile he may be said to have laid all nature under a solemn interdict, not to minister to our most pressing wants; he has laid it under an eternal ban. Let there be no peace to the wicked, saith my God; let everything be at war with him. If he will be the enemy of God, let him live and die amidst a universe of frowns; let every thing in heaven, earth, and hell, be armed, and ready to assail him: let there be no peace to the wicked; and universal nature responds, there shall be none; and the universal experience of sinners, as it sends up its reply from the bottomless pit declares in accents of terrible despair, there is none. Could the sinner but open his eyes to the dreadful reality of his condition, were he endowed with the power of vision like the servant of the prophet, he would find himself surrounded, not indeed with horses and chariots of fire to guard him, but with terrible forms of anger and destruction, waiting to dart on him, and make him their prey. He would find himself standing in the great theatre of the universe, with every eye that it contains fixed and frowning upon him; with every weapon in the infinite armory of God, ready, and levelled against him. And the hour arrives when he finds that sin has arrayed against him, not only all the universe without, but all the powers and passions within him; that it has armed him against himself; that it has given a sting to every thought, and turned his conscience into a worm that dieth not, and his depraved and ungoverned passions into fires never to be quenched.

O how unparalleled the infatuation of the man who pretends, that from the doubtful and scattered intimations of nature, he can collect the materials of a sufficient creed;

when at the same time they are so obviously intermixed with the fragments of a violated law. Nature indeed, is still an oracle on one point; and when consulted on that point, which relates to the great remedy for sin, her spontaneous response is, it is not in me; it is not until man has examined her by torture, that he extorts some doubtful reply, which-his vanity being made the interpreter-is found to coincide with his wishes, and to flatter his pride. On the fact of the divine existence, indeed, the protestations of nature are positive, loud and unceasing: this is a truth. of which she is never making less than solemn affirmation and oath, with all her myriad voices; the unintermitting reponse of the living creatures heard by John, is only the echo of her voice in the sanctuary above, proclaiming to the universe his eternal power and Godhead. But, however able and ready to enlighten the inquiring mind on the fact of his existence, she could do nothing to disssipate the clouds of doubt and gloom which had gathered and settled into thick darkness round about his throne: on the anxious subject of his character, and his possible conduct towards the guilty, she has received no instructions and is silent. By the introduction of sin, our condition has become preternatural, and the wisdom that prescribes for us, therefore, must be supernatural, or it will prove a physician of no value.

I. Jesus Christ, the only begotten of the Father, came to be the light of the world: and one of the topics on which he most delighted to expatiate and dwell, was the paternal character and universal benevolence of God. This, in the form in which it came from his hands, was an original subject, a new gift to the world.

Hear his own emphatic representations; 'O righteous Father, the world hath not known thee.' 'No man know