voices unanimously and daringly reply, "Not this man, but Barabbas."

Such are the two individuals presented to the people to choose from at their Easter festival. The man in chains and the Prince of Life; the former a vile wretch, who in a sanguinary revolt, had been seized in the act of committing murder. He had probably acted the part of a false Messiah; and had exhibited one of those caricatures of Christ, by means of which Satan had so often attempted to render the true Messiah suspected, and an object of public ridicule. But Barabbas does not stand before us merely as an individual. He represents, at the same time, allegorically, the human race in its present condition-as fallen from God-in a state of rebellion against the Divine Majesty-bound in the fetters of the curse of the law till the day of judgment; but nevertheless dignifying itself with pompous titles, without any real nobility of soul, and boasting of honorable distinctions without internal worth.

Before Barabbas was presented with Jesus to the people's choice, every prospect of his escape from the fate that awaited him had been cut off: and such is also our case. There was no idea of a ransom, nor of any liberation from the well-guarded dungeon, much less of a merciful sentence, which every one else might have anticipated sooner than this murderer. And believe me, that our case was not less critical than his. For what had we to give to redeem our souls? how escape the vigilance of those eyes, which "run to and fro through all the earth?" and how could a judge acquit us unconditionally, of whom it is said, "Justice and judgment are the habitation of his throne ?" Barabbas's situation was desperate, and ours no less. But what occurs? Without his own co-operation, and against all his calculation, a dawn of escape suddenly flashes through his prison. From Gabbatha resounds the governor's question to the people, "Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus, which is called Christ."

How important the moment! How mysterious the change in the state of things! Barabbas thought that he should certainly be put to death. It is now Barabbas or Jesus. The deliverance of the former has at least become possible; and by

what means? Solely because the rebel and the murderer is offered to the choice of the people equally with Jesus, the Lord from heaven. The lot must fall on one or the other. One will be released; the other sent to the place of execution. There is nothing to justify a demand for the liberation of both. Which of the two will be chosen-which rejected? If Jesus of Nazareth is set at liberty, Barabbas is inevitably lost. If the former is rejected, then, hail 'to thee, Barabbas, thou art saved! His ruin is thy redemption; from his death springs thy life.

What say you, my readers, to this state of things? Viewed solely in a historical light, it is certainly of minor importance, except that it serves as a renewed proof that the Son of God was spared no disgrace nor humiliation-not even that of being placed on the same footing with a murderer, like Barabbas. But regarded in a superior light, that historical fact becomes of great importance. In the position in which Barabbas stood to Jesus, we all of us stood to Him. With respect to us, it might also have been said, "Who shall die-the transgressor or the Just One?" It was impossible that both should be spared. The sword of divine justice must strike, either to the right or the left. The curse, which we had incurred, must be inflicted. The sentence of condemnation pronounced upon us, impatiently waited its execution, that God might continue holy, just, and true. Here was the great alternative: these guilty creatures, or the Son of God in their stead, for he alone was able to atone for our sins. Thus we were quite in Barabbas's position. If Jesus was sent to execution, the hour of our redemption had arrived; but if he was spared we were irrevocably lost.

You already know the result. The affair takes the most favorable turn for Barabbas, and in him, for us. To Pilate's utter amazement, the voice of the multitude decides in favor of the rebel. "Release Barabbas!" cried the uproarious crowd, "and crucify Jesus." However wicked this decision may appear, compared with that of Pilate, who was anxious that Jesus should live, and not be put to death; still it was more in accordance with God's plan, and the method of salvation that it should be so. For if the people had effectually demanded Jesus

to be liberated, and Barabbas to be executed, as Pilate wished, that demand would have been the funeral-knell of the human race, and the signal for our eternal perdition. But God so ordered it that the affair took a different turn; for the outcry of the people to crucify Jesus was the trumpet-sound announcing the day of our redemption.

Observe now the result of the decision. Barabbas and Jesus change places. The murderer's bonds, curse, disgrace, and mortal agony are transferred to the righteous Jesus; while the liberty, innocence, safety, and well-being of the immaculate Nazarene, become the lot of the murderer. Jesus Barabbas is installed in all the rights and privileges of Jesus Christ; while the latter enters upon all the infamy and horror of the rebel's position. Both mutually inherit each other's situation and what they possess the delinquent's guilt and cross become the lot of the Just One, and all the civil rights and immunities of the latter are the property of the delinquent.

You now understand the amazing scene we have been contemplating. We find the key to it in the words, "God made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him." It places before us, in a strong light, the mystery of our justification before God, through the mediation of Christ. In Barabbas's deliverance, we see our own. Left to ourselves, we should have been eternally lost. When Christ exchanged positions with us, our redemption was decided. Truly, he must be blind who does not perceive that in this Barabbas scene, a light was divinely enkindled, which should illumine the whole of the passion of God's only-begotten Son. This light would alone suffice to dispel every objection to the scriptural nature of our view of the doctrine of the atonement, if this were not also done by a whole series of striking passages from the apostolic writings. We certainly will not entirely deny that our idea of Christ's atonement may not include in it much that is human and gross, which will eventually be swallowed up by the pure and perfect apprehension of it, but there is nothing false or erroneous in it. The pith and substance of our judicial view of the suretyship of Jesus is most undoubtedly divine truth.

Let us then rejoice that such is the case, and indelibly impress upon our memories the striking features of the scene we have been contemplating. Let those of my readers who are humbled under a sense of their sin and guilt, behold their image in Barabbas; and one consolatory idea after another will occur to you from the sight. How comfortable the reflection that the man is wholly freed at the expense of Jesus; that however heinous his crimes, not one of them attaches to him any longer; that henceforward, no judicial procedure can be instituted against him for what he has done; and that nothing now prevents him from boldly appearing in the presence of his judge.

You also possess all these privileges in Christ, only in a more glorious form and a more abundant fullness. Since he became the criminal in your stead, you are accounted as righteous for his sake; since he was rejected in your stead, you are admitted into favor with God; since he bore your curse, you are the heirs of his blessing; since he suffered your punishment, you are destined to share his happiness. Such being the case, how ought you, by faith, to rise into the blissful position assigned you, and to learn in the school of the Holy Spirit, boldly to say with the apostle, "Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect, seeing that it is God that justifieth? Who is he that condemneth, since Christ hath died-yea rather is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us?"

XXXIV:

BARABBAS.

THE most horrible and momentous cry that was ever heard under heaven has been uttered. To the governor's question, “Whom will ye that I release unto you, Jesus or Barabbas?" the dreadful answer has been returned by the tumultuous crowd, "Away with this man, and release unto us Barabbas !" More

than an echo of this cry resounds through the world to this day; for all who daringly reject Christ as the Saviour of sinners, and are eager on the contrary for the upholding of the honor, independence, and liberty of their "Old Man," likewise say, in fact, "Away with this man, and release unto us Barabbas!" "But is not this the language we have inherited from our corrupt nature, as such?" Undoubtedly it is. Yet even from the lips of faith we hear the same; only that in the latter case, the exclamation has an opposite meaning, with the nature of which we are already acquainted, and shall hear of it again on the present occasion. The release of Barabbas is the subject of our meditation, which, may the Lord accompany with his blessing, that so we may retire from it laden with a valuable store, like the bee from the flowery meadow or the fragrant heath!

The people, instigated by their rulers, have boldly and plainly expressed their will. They desire the pardon of the murderer, and the death of the righteous Jesus. From that moment, it is pitiable to see how the judge, entirely thrown out of his course, sinks deeper at every step, and writhes in the dust, like a helpless worm that has been trodden upon. Scarcely aware any longer of what he was saying, he cries out, "What shall I do then with Jesus, which is called Christ?" Only think of his asking the raging multitude what he must do with Jesus, who, before he put the question to them, had already answered him in the most convincing manner. His conscience, his inward feeling of justice, the letter of the law by which he is bound, and even the warning voice contained in the dream of his wife—all tell him, clearly and definitely, what he ought to do with Jesus. He ought to pronounce him free, and then with all the power that stood at his command, take him under his protection against the uproarious multitude. But where is he to find courage for this? "What shall I do then with Jesus?" Truly these words are an eternal shame and disgrace to him.

But how many of our cotemporaries share this disgrace with him, since they make what they ought to do with Jesus depend on the popular voice, the prevailing tone of society, and what is called public opinion! I have even often thought I heard preachers in their pulpits imitate Pilate in asking, "What am I