assailed! However, he recollects himself, and thinks, "What does the woman mean? What right has she to put such a question? It is too much to be obliged to answer every idle inquirer. I would have told Caiaphas, or one of the chief priests, who I am, but who is this busy-body, that I should give an answer to her?" Thinking thus, he replies, with the emphasis of one whose honor is assailed, "Woman, I know him not. I know not what thou sayest."

Alas! Alas! He that offered to take up the gauntlet for Jesus, even if thrown down by the king of terrors, succumbs at the first idea of danger, suggested by the question of a menial servant! Who does not perceive from his language the tempest of accusing and excusing thoughts which rages within? "I am not; I know him not," is first uttered with tolerable decision. But then, condemned by conscience, he seeks to bear out this denial in some measure, while passing by the necessity of a direct answer, by adopting another mode of speech, and adding, "I know not what thou sayest. What dost thou mean? I do not understand thee." But this no longer suffices to expunge the unambiguous words, "I know him not.”

While stammering out this lamentable prevarication, he rises from his seat, under the influence of alarm and inward rebuke, and attempts to retire unobserved from his dangerous position, in which he succeeds without being again attacked. He bends his steps toward the gate, in the hope of finding it open and being able to make his escape. The cock now crows for the first time, but the state of excitement which he is in, does not suffer him, this time, to hear the warning sound, the more so, since the way is unexpectedly blocked up by another maidservant, who, calling to the soldiers who assemble round her, says, in a more definite manner than the former, "This fellow was also with Jesus of Nazareth!" The mercenaries are gratified by the stripping off of Peter's disguise, since it affords them the desired materials for additional joke and pastime. thou not also one of his disciples ?" they ask, in a rude and threatening tone-"Thou belongest also to the sect!"

"Art

What is the poor man to do now? After his foot has once slipped, we see him fall into a state of complete vacillation.

The way to the second transgression is always rapidly traversed after the commission of the first. Sonie dark spirit then whispers in our ear that the repetition can not make us more culpable, since God is wont not to number but to weigh our sins; or else, that by persisting in the commission of any particular sin, we only manifest that we do not exactly regard it as sin, and have, therefore, in some measure, sinned ignorantly. Suffice it to say that Peter now denies his Lord again, and this time at least, according to the sound of the words, more boldly than before, "Man," says he, "I am not," and then adds an asseveration; nay, even so far forgets himself as to speak of his Master in a contemptuous tone while saying, "I know not the man!" They must now be forced to believe aim, since no one would speak thus of his friend, if he were hot the refuse of faithlessness and falsehood. They do not 'magine Peter to be capable of such baseness, and therefore they let him go. O what a disgrace for the disciple, morally to have convinced the troop that he could not be Jesus's friend, but had sworn fealty to the banner of his adversaries.

Restless and fugitive, like a stricken and chased deer, the unhappy disciple wanders about the remote parts of the courtyard, but to his horror finds every outlet of escape closed against him. For a while he succeeds in withdrawing himself from the view and further molestation both of the spearmen and domestics; but the danger of his situation takes such possession of his thoughts and senses that we must give up the hope of his taking to heart the extreme point to which the wind of temptation has carried him. He staggers about like one who is no longer master of himself, when, after the lapse of about another hour, a fresh crowd surrounds him, who, after carefully weighing all the circumstances, have at length come to the conclusion that the stranger must certainly belong to the disciples of Jesus. "Surely," say they, with greater confidence than before, "thou art also one of them;" and when he again begins to defend himself, they convict him of falsehood by his own words, and exclaim, "Thy speech bewrayeth thee; thou art a Galilean." Another soldier, attracted by the noise, looks him full in the face, and adds his confirmation to their assertion, by saying, “Of a truth this fellow

also was with him." Last of all, a servant of the High Priest approaches, a kinsman of him whose ear Peter had cut off at Gethsemane, and says, "Did not I see thee in the garden with him?"

Peter now finds himself completely intrapped. How is he to act? Two ways are open to him, either to reveal his disgraceful denials by a candid acknowledgment, and present his bare bosom to his enemics for Jesus's sake, or else to act his lamentable part completely through, in which case he must carry his barefaced falsehoods to the utmost. In a state bordering on desperation he decides upon the latter. In the confusion of the moment, I know not what he may, half unconsciously, have summoned up to soothe his conscience, at least for a time. Whether he took refuge in the subterfuge that such degraded characters were not worthy of having the name of Jesus confessed before them, which would be like casting pearls before swine, or whether he sought to deceive himself with the idea that he would spare his blood until the desired opportunity arrived of shedding it publicly before all the people in testimony of his faith, who shall decide? Suffice it to say, he is quite the old fisherman, the rough sailor again-nay, even much worse than he had ever been before, and heaps oath upon oath, and curse upon curse, to confirm his assertion that he knew not the While calling down upon his head all that is dreadful, and abjuring his salvation, he exclaims, "I am no Christian; I know not the man of whom ye speak." And he gives them this assurance with a gesture and in a tone as if no one under heaven was more despicable in his esteem than "that man," and as if a more outrageous injury could not have been inflicted upon him than by such a supposition. He is apparently beside himself at the grievous wrong which he is enduring. But the more violently he protests and cries out, the more obvious is his Galilean dialect; and the more this is the case, the more certain at length are the mercenaries that they have not been mistaken in him. The measure of his sin is now full. The soldiers leave him to himself without giving him any further trouble, and turn their backs upon him, either out of contempt, as deeming such a renegade unworthy of being stamped as a martyr, or else because, by the opening of the doors of the judgment hall, a new spectacle attracts their attention in a higher degree.

man.

We break off, for the present, with painful feelings. "Is it, then, possible for the children of God to fall so far back into their former state?" Yes, my readers, if, instead of commending themselves, in true humiliation of spirit, to the grace of God, they enter the lists in presumptuous self-confidence, and rush of themselves into danger. In this case, there is no security against their experiencing similar defeats. The new man, in those who are regenerate, does not attain to such an unlimited superiority over the old, as no longer to require, on all occasions, the co tinuance of divine influence for the overcoming and restraining of the latter. It is true that the former will never yield the field to the flesh for long together, but in due time will again trample it under foot. It may, however, be the case, as it was with Peter, that the old Adam, under the pressure of seductive and darkening influences, may again burst his fetters, and, manifesting his depravity before God and man, may obtain a considerable advantage over the new man. Hence the Lord's pointed admonition to his disciples to watch and pray lest they fall into temptation. Simon Peter vowed and promised, certainly with the purest intentions, but neglected to watch and pray. What was the consequence? The first blast of temptation miserably overthrew him, and all his vows and promises were scattered to the winds.

"Let him, therefore, that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall." In the kingdom of God, indeed, a defeat may bring more blessings than a victory; and more costly fruits often spring from stumblings than from the most apparently successful strivings after holiness. But woe unto him whom this truth would render reckless! Such a one would be in danger of being never raised up from his fall by the hand of divine grace. And though he might rise again, yet no one can calculate how far a relapse into sin might affect, at least the present life, by its destructive consequences. Therefore, let us ever bear in mind the apostolic exhortation, "Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil;" as well as those other words of the same apostle, "Endure hardness, as good soldiers of Jesus Christ."

XXI.

THE GREAT CONFESSION.

WE return to the judgment hall of the Sanhedrim at a moment when profound and gloomy silence reigns. But even this pause has its import. The Spirit of Truth does his office in the assembly. Shame and embarrassment take possession of every mind. The false witnesses have acted their part most wretchedly, and stand unmasked. Their contradictory evidence only tends to their own disgrace. The sublime bearing of the accused, expressive only of innocence, completely paralyzes his adversaries. Every eye is now fixed on the presiding head of the Church. Every look seems to ask with amazement, "What art thou about, thou Priest of the Most High? Where is thy wisdom; what is become of thy dignity?" He, meanwhile, finds himself in the most painful situation in the world. Anxiety, both for the preservation of his official dignity, and for the result of the whole affair, torments his soul. There the proud hierarch sits, and his thoughts take tumultuous counsel how the difficulty may be overcome, and how he may escape from the pressure. Such is the end of the judicial procedure against the Holy One of Israel. I ask, who has lost the cause?-Jesus or his judges? Be assured that the world's great process against Christ will eventually end in a similar manner. It will terminate in the utter confusion and despair of all who oppose him. Therefore let not his adversaries imagine that they have brought the case against him to a close.

The perplexity of the high priest is great. How can he conceal his embarrassment? He must give the affair another turn. But of what kind? His ideas whirl round like a fiery wheel. All at once a thought occurs to him, which he deems fortunate. But it is not by mere accident that it presents itself to him. A greater than he overrules and controls the scer.e. The hierarch convulsively snatches up his falling dignity