been healed by him of some disease, came in and testified her penitence and her affectionate reverence for Jesus, by the most unequivocal and even passionate signs. She stood at his feet weeping bitterly, and began to wash his feet with her tears, and to wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with ointment which she had brought. The pharisee looked upon this woman, as men, even with the better light of the Gospel, are too apt to look upon their erring and sinful brethren and sisters-as an utter outcast-as one who had passed a bound, beyond which sympathy and compassion never reach or ought to reach-as one for whose reformation it was not worth while to strive or care-as one with whom society had henceforth nothing to do but in vengeance— who it was not likely ever would reform, and if she did, ought to be left to pursue her reformation unaided and alone-and should never, for any bitterness of repentance or subsequent purity of life, be permitted to resume her former standing. It is very likely that he made this feeling a part of his religion. He probably called it righteous indignation against sin, and thought it would be treason to the cause of virtue to extend his pardon too readily, or make the way of the sinner's return too easy. But how different were the thoughts and feelings of Jesus towards her. He saw in her true and deep contrition. He knew that feeling to be a proper and good feeling, which placed her soul back again in a right condition, made her an object of approbation and of complacent regard to God, and ought to secure her the sympathy and encouragement of her fellow beings. He saw how important it was, that her first returning good feelings should not be chilled or repressed by severity, but should be permitted to unfold and ripen in a warm and genial atmosphere of love. He had no hesitation in pronouncing her sins forgiven; he approved the confidence with which she had thrown herself on his compassion, and gave her his benediction: "Thy faith hath saved thee"-" Go in peace." Does not this fact convey to the heart an assurance that our Father in Heaven is thus merciful and forgiving? One great purpose of our Saviour's mission was to inform men of God's dis

position toward the sincerely penitent.

Can the ambassador

of a stern and unrelenting God, be imagined to have acted as he did on this occasion? In this incident we read the truth that God's mercy and forgiveness are ever ready for his repentant children; that his dispositions towards them have never been other than paternal; that the sole conditions he requires for their pardon and acceptance are repentance and reformation. In those words of Jesus, "Thy sins are forgiven;" "Thy faith hath saved thee;" "Go in peace," we seem to hear the voice of God speaking to all his truly contrite children.

It would be easy to multiply illustrations of this sort. We might ask if the compassion of God for sins of weakness is not seen in that mingled look of tender pity and gentle reproach, which the Lord turned and cast upon Peter, at his third denial ? And do we not see too, how well suited the goodness of God is, to lead men to repentance, in the quick and deep sorrow which that look awoke in the bosom of the offending disciple? And God's compassion for sins of ignorance, is not that too shown in Jesus' prayer upon the cross, "Father forgive them, they know not what they do?" We love to contemplate the truths of our religion, as thus set forth in facts of the Gospel, because they are thus most unequivocally set forth. It is a mode of expression which requires no verbal criticism for its interpretation. It speaks directly to the heart. To enumerate all the instances in which truths are thus taught, would be to repeat the whole story of the Saviour's life. We pass to one more important topic.

God's stern displeasure at wilful and presumptuous sin is shown in the character of Jesus. With such sin he made no compromise or parley. He uniformly denounced it in the strongest and plainest terms. The meekness and gentleness of Jesus are sometimes spoken of as if they were predominant in his character; and his character is, we suspect, not unfrequently conceived of as possessing a yieldingness, which, properly considered, must be acknowledged to be a weakness. But no trait can be said to be predominant in his character. All the

elements of a perfect character existed in him in their just proportions, and no one had an undue ascendancy over the rest. With all his meekness he was ever found, when truth and duty required, firm and fearless. This portion of his character was exhibited in his intercourse with the Pharisees. The great body of this sect, with a few honourable exceptions, were exceedingly corrupt. They had grossly perverted the law, by glosses and interpretations which they put upon it to further their own base ends, and which made it sanction the worst immoralities. Jesus exposed their sophistries, warned the people against the leaven of their doctrines, and told them, that except their righteousness exceeded the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, they could not enter into the kingdom of Heaven. They refused to acknowledge his divine mission, and with wilful obstinacy shut their minds and hearts against the most affecting proofs of it. The sole effect produced upon them by the solemn scene at the grave of Lazarus, was expressed in their exclamation, "What do we? For this man doeth many miracles; if we let him thus alone, all men will believe on him." Jesus declared them to be therein guilty of the highest crime man can commit; a sin of all sins the most unpardonable. With all this real depravity they put on an outward show of extreme sanctity. They fasted twice in a week; they tithed mint, anise, and cummin; they made long prayers, whilst they devoured widows' houses, and secretly practised extortion and all uncleanness. Our Lord's awful denunciation of their hypocrisy was, "Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of Hell ?" If any man in contemplating the Saviour's treatment of the woman who had been a sinner, or any of his acts or expressions of compassion and forgiveness, has so mistaken them as to imagine that there is any safety in sin, any hope for disobedience unrepented of and persevered in, let him turn to these denunciations against the Pharisees. If they furnish any indication. of the spirit of the Saviour's mission and of the character of him who sent him, there is no peace for the wicked so long as he wilfully perseveres in his wickedness.

A SACRAMENTAL THOUGHT.

It was the Sabbath of the New Year, and the band of believers were gathered round the table of the Lord. A number made profession of their faith, received the water of Baptism and now were to partake of the sacred elements for the first time. A large number of the congregation, not members of the Church, remained during the Communion. Deep silence and

solemnity pervaded the whole assembly.

The Pastor reminded them of the deep interest of the occasion. He spoke to the new communicants of the important meaning which this new year must have in their eyes. He then spoke of the warning which the season uttered, and the voice which came from the sacramental table. The beginning year tells of the flight of time and the perishableness of life and all earthly joys. The sacred elements speak of that which cannot die, they are the solemn symbol of the life that is eternal. The years, as they roll, sing the requiem of all human hopes, and mournful indeed must be the sound to those who cannot hear the voice of him who took from time and death the power to wound,—the voice which speaks from the Holy Emblems, with magic power to the believers' heart—“ I am the Resurrection and the Life; whoso liveth and believeth on me shall never die❞—the voice which joins in with the sad dirge of departing years, and turns its sadness into sweet melody.

Above and around us hung the festive garlands with which we had but lately adorned our church in honor of the Lord's Nativity. And while we were partaking the emblems of the body broken, and the blood shed for our sakes, we could not but

look with deepest feeling at the memorials of the birth of him whose last supper and death we were now commemorating. The Holy Child appeared before us, as if in the lowly manger. And we thought of the wonderful contrast between the three scenes-the Manger, the Supper, the Cross.

I. THE MANGER.

Here lay the world's Saviour, the Son of God, and yet a weak infant, a child of mortality, and doomed to share the lot of mortals.

For thou wert born of woman! thou did'st come,
Oh Holiest to this world of sin and gloom,

Not in thy dread omnipotent array;

And not by thunders strewed,

Was thy tempestuous road;

Nor indignation burnt before thee on thy way.
But thee, a soft and naked child,

Thy mother undefiled

In the rude manger laid to rest,
From off her virgin breast.

The Earth and Ocean were not hushed to hear
Bright harmony from every starry sphere;
Nor at thy presence broke the voice of song
From all the cherub choirs,

And seraph's burning lyres,

Pour'd through the host of heaven the charm'd clouds along.
One angel troop the strain began,

Of all the race of man

By simple shepherds heard alone

That soft Hosanna's tone.

As we gaze in imagination on the lowly child, shall we not pray that his life may be without sorrow? Shall we not ask of God, that the guileless heart may never know the world's iniquities, that brow may never be furrowed with life's cares, and those lips never be opened to answer any language except that of affection. Shall we not pray that the infant shall soon breathe his last in the arms of his mother, or if his life is to be prolonged, he may not be " a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief?"