แ

which is placed before you-either forever to break with Jesus, as the most disreputable enthusiast the world ever saw, and approve of the bloodthirsty sentence of the Sanhedrim, or to cry "Hosanna" to the lowly Nazarene, and fall in humble adoration at his feet, as God manifest in the flesh. There is here no middle path. The idea of his being merely an excellent man," only manifests great levity; and regarded in the light, conceals within it the traitor's kiss. How, therefore, do you decide? Even sound reason advises you to take part with us. In Jesus's affirmation on oath before the high priest, behold the immutable rock which bears and sustains our belief in him! Build the house of your hopes for eternity thereon, and you shall never be confounded; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it!

XXII.

PETER'S TEARS.

OUR present meditation will console us for the grief we experienced when considering the depth of Peter's fall. The star of divine grace rises on that gloomy scene with benignant radiance. We here witness the shedding of tears, which, next to those that flowed from our Lord himself at the grave of Lazarus, over ungodly Jerusalem, and in Gethsemane, may be regarded as the most remarkable that were ever shed upon earth. They have dropped, like soothing balm, into many a wounded heart. May they not fail to produce a blessed effect on many of my readers, and be renewed in their experience!

We again meet with Peter at the horrible moment when completing his denial of Jesus, he formally abjures his discipleship with heavy curses. Observe, this is done by the very individual from whose lips the great confession had previously proceeded "We have known and believed that thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God;" and the ardent and sincere declaration-" Though all men should forsake thee, yet will not

I." But what are even the best of men when left for a moment to themselves? And what would become of the most faithful of Christ's followers, if the Lord were only for a short time to remove the restraints of his grace? O the folly of trusting to the finest feelings, seeing that we are not sure of them for a single second! What childish presumption to rely for success on the airy weapons of what men call good-will, or noble resolutions! We might indeed do so, if the "weak flesh" did not always accompany the "willing spirit," and if Satan did not always go about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.

Peter has first to learn, in the school of experience, like us all, that we presume too much if we rely upon ourselves, even in the most trifling temptation. The love of Christ constrains us to venture every thing for him; but it is only the belief in Christ's love for us, and the trusting to his gracious power and strength, that enables us to overcome. He who trembles at himself, as being capable above others of denying his Master, will gain greater victories than he who deems himself sufficiently strong to be able to say, "Though all men forsake thee, yet will not I." "Thou standest by faith," writes Paul to the Romans, “Be not high-minded, but fear." "Therefore," says the same apostle, “I will rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

Peter is vanquished. Hell triumphs. And why should she not? Had ever a soul become hers which had drawn down upon itself the curse so deservedly as that of this apostate disciple? and did the cause of Christianity, so hated by her, ever receive such a painful shock as in this instance, where one of its apostles basely succumbs under the first danger which menaces a candid confession of his discipleship, and is unable to find language strong enough for his affirmation that "he knows not the man ?" Nevertheless, hell begins to cry "victory" too soon. There is no such hurry with regard to the curse which is to light upon Peter. Listen to what is passing in the judgment hall of the palace. The appalling sentence has just been uttered in the midst of a tumultuous uproar. "What further need have we of witnesses! He has blasphemed God, and is guilty of death." "Who?" we ask, astonished. "Simon Peter?" No, another-a Holy One;

even he who once exclaimed, "I lay down my life for the sheep." He is now ready to do so, and Peter belongs also to his flock, from whom the curse is transferred to him, the Surety, and with respect to whom the words are henceforth applicable, "They shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand." As regards the shock which the cause of the Gospel endured through Peter's denial, it will survive this also. Yet a little while, and there is One who will be able to give such a turn to the whole affair that it must tend rather to the advancement than the injury of the Gospel.

Just as Peter has filled up the measure of his sin by a formal repudiation of his Master, the cock crows. What is the result? A return to sober-mindedness, repentance, and tears. God only knows with what clamor Satan deafened the disciple's ears so that the first cry of the feathered watchman did not penetrate into them. Peter sank only still more deeply into the snare, and midnight darkness, enlightened only by solitary flashes of his accusing conscience, enveloped his mind.

An awakener of some kind or other is appointed to every one. Wherever we may be, there are voices which call us to repentance. Nature, as well as our whole life, is full of them, only our ears are heavy and will not hear. There is an awakening call in the rolling thunder, which is a herald of infinite majesty -in the lightning, which darts down before thee, carrying with it destruction-in the stars, which look down upon thee from such remote regions, as if they would say, "How far, O man! art thou cast out from thy home!"-in the flower of the field, which, in its transient blooming and fading, depicts thy own brief existence upon earth-in the midnight hour, when the church-bell strikes upon thy ear, like the pulse of time, which rapidly hastes away, and calls out to thee to hasten to save thy soul. Nay, where are we not surrounded by awakening voices of this nature? They sit upon the tombstones of our church-yards, and their language is, "It is appointed unto men once to die, and after that the judgment." Their warning voice resounds from every funeral car that rolls past thee. It may be heard on every birthday which thou celebratest; in every fit of illness by which thou art attacked; in every danger that threatens thy life; as

well as in that secret uneasiness which incessantly steals through thy soul.

And besides these general calls to repentance, do we not find something similar in every family circle and in each individual? Some unrepented sin lies upon thy soul. When will this awakening call fill thy eyes with tears? One misfortune after another has lately crossed thy threshold. O how many alarming voices have been contained in these strokes of the Almighty's rod! You feel your strength decaying, and that the sun of your life is declining. Do you not hear in this fact the crowing of the cock? On every side we may be conscious of it-in visions of the night, in the events of the day, in serious thoughts, which we are unable to prevent, in sermons and admonitions which are addressed to us. But to what purpose? Something must be added to this warning cry-something superior and more powerful than itself, or it will never succeed in awakening us, who are by nature so "uncircumcised in heart and ears," from our deadly sleep.

The cock in the court-yard of the high priest crows a second time, and this call enters and finds a response. Day begins to dawn upon Peter, awakened by the remembrance of his Master's warning, and while reflecting on the abyss into which he has plunged himself. But if he shudders with horror, hell may share his terror, since the second crowing of the cock is to her what the trumpets of Joshua were of old to the walls of Jericho, casting down, on a sudden, all the proud trophies of victory she had already erected.

Let us, however, return for a few moments, to see what occurred in the council hall just before this second warning. Something of importance has just taken place. The accused has declared upon oath that he is the Son of the living God. The high priest, in dissembled indignation, rends his clothes. Amid wild uproar sentence of death is pronounced upon the Holy One of Israel, and the minions of justice seize him to lead him away into the court-yard, and there vent upon him their unlicensed fury. The divine sufferer has just passed through the doorway into the court-yard when the crowing of the cock reaches his ear. "And the Lord turned himself;" we know toward whom. That sound announced to him his disciple's fall, and his eye and his

compassionate heart go in search of him. Such is Jesus the Saviour. He embraces his followers with more than materna. tenderness, and their want of fidelity does not prevent his being faithful. What waves of sorrow beat over his head, and yet he can forget every thing in his anxiety for his fallen disciple! Sooner than one of them should be forgotten, he would forget the government of the world; and would suffer the nations to take their course, rather than lose sight of one of his little ones. As long as a rose of his planting blooms on the earth, this desert is to him a delightful garden, and he leaves heaven to tend and nourish this plant. And happy are ye who are the weak of the flock, the poor and needy above others! It would seem that you lie the nearest to his heart.

Deeply was Peter immersed in the mire of sin, yet the Lord turned toward him. Who among us would have troubled himself further about such a faithless deserter from the ranks? If such characters were referred to us, it would go ill with them. How ready we are to stamp and reject such stumbling brethren as hypocrites! Instead of moving a finger to restore them, we not unfrequently plunge them deeper into the mire, and persecute them worse than the world does. If Jerusalem is besieged, Judah assists in the blockade. The Lord, on the contrary, whose right alone it is to judge in such cases, is not ashamed to deign to act the part of the woman in the Gospel, who having lost one of her pieces of silver, strikes a light, seizes the broom, and ceases not to stir up the dust till it is discovered; and when found, she calls her neighbors together, and says, "Rejoice with me, for I have found the piece of silver which I had lost." His children are dearer to him than the brethren often are to us. Tell me, you that are parents, do your erring sons and disobedient daughters cease to be your children because of their aberrations? Do you not rather still more deeply feel that they are bone of your bone, and flesh of your flesh? Does not your love to them increase with the danger to which you see them exposed? And are you not more fully conscious, when compelled to weep over them, that your life is bound up with theirs, than when they merely caused you joy? If ye then, being evil, can not reject your own seed, how should He be able to forget