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and on which even the eye of God himself looks with pleasure, are all emblems of humility."

In like manner, the services which are rendered to God from within this building-the prayer, the praise, the homage-if acceptable, must rise from an altar, on which humility has been the first sacrifice. Humility is the courtdress of heaven. Gabriel wears such a dress under his "garments of praise:" not a saint in the kingdom of God on high but has on this indispensable "wedding garment." How much more becoming the child of God on earth, who every day commits sin enough to banish every angel from the realms of glory!

To intercourse with God, humility is as necessary as holiness was to Adam in the garden of Eden. He remained not one hour in his earthly paradise after that was extinct; and not one moment will God hold fellowship with one who comes not with a broken and contrite heart. To be accepted, he must say, with Jacob: "I am not worthy of the least of all these mercies, and of all the truth which thou hast shewed unto thy servant;" he must say, with David: "Have mercy upon me, O God! according to thy loving kindness, according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies, blot out my transgressions;" he must say, with Ezra: "O God! I am ashamed, and blush to lift my face up to thee, O God; for our iniquities are increased over our heads, and our trespass is gone up to the heavens;" he must say, with Daniel: "O Lord, to us belongeth confusion of face: to the Lord our God belong mercies and forgiveness, though we have rebelled against him. Neither have we obeyed the voice of the Lord our God, to walk in his laws, which he has set before us by his servants the prophets;" he must say, with the publican, smiting upon his breast, "God be merciful to me a sinner."

The design of Jesus Christ, in the parable before us, was to show the necessity of humility, in order to the acceptance of prayer before God.

No arguments would have served to exhibit the truth so clearly, or to have impressed it so forcibly, as the picture of the Pharisee and publican, which Christ has here drawn. We see, at a glance, the character of the two men, and the essential difference in the nature and foundation of their worship. In the one case, there is humility and repentance; in the other, nothing but pride and ostentation. No one, who has read the account of these two men, ever, for one moment, saw a single reason why the Pharisee should be accepted, or a single reason why the publican should not be accepted.

If it be urged, in behalf of the Pharisee, that, in praying, he was discharging a duty, it is granted. But, beyond this, what is there to recommend him? What merit attaches to him, who, acknowledging the duty of aiding the poor, carries them nothing but the chaff of his wheat, or the husks of his corn? To what reception is he entitled from a pure and holy God, who comes only in the spirit of self-glorification? His object is not to honor God, but to honor himself; not to express his sense of dependence, but to magnify his deeds; not to bewail his sins, but to boast of his worthiness. "The foundation of prayer," says Paley, "in all cases, is a sense of want. No man prays in earnest, or to any purpose, for what he does not feel that he wants." But the Pharisee

expresses not a single want. No! not he. He comes to God, to inform him how very good he is, and what very good works he has done! how beautifully his character and actions contrast with those of others!

We perceive not one element of prayer in all this array of devotion; while his pride, ostentation, and hypocrisy stand out in all their odiousness and depravity. He does, indeed, give thanks to God that he is not as other men are; but he does not add, with Paul, “By the grace of God I am what I am." No; the grace of God had had no concern in making him to differ from others. If he could claim the

merit of not being an extortioner, unjust, or an adulterer, he could not claim not to be a proud, vain, boastful hypocrite.

If we now turn to contemplate the publican, the contrast is striking and delightful. "The sacrifices of God are a broken heart, and a contrite spirit ;" and such is the sacrifice offered by the publican. He expresses the deepest penitence by what he does, and by what he says. "He stands afar off." The Pharisee had advanced to the side of the court nearest the temple, as if that more honorable and conspicuous place belonged to him. But the publican occupies a position on the opposite side, as far as possible from the temple. He feels unworthy to approach near to the place where God has his holy habitation. The consciousness of guilt also prevents him from "raising his eyes to heaven." But his heart ascends, and with it "a godly sorrow," most acceptable to God. Moreover, he "smites upon his breast," in token of a holy indignation against himself for his many transgressions, and as an expression of his anguish on account of them.

Such were the preliminaries of the prayer which he proceeds to offer. It was short. "Fear and shame,” says an old divine, “hindered him from saying much; sighs and groans swallowed up his words; but what he did say was to the purpose:" "God be merciful to me a sinner." How different from the language of the Pharisee! Sin!—he had none to confess. Mercy!-he had no occasion to ask it. He was rich and full; pure and worthy. What should he confess? What need he implore? But the publican feels guilty, and most unworthy; he feels condemned, and sues for pardon: "Behold, I am vile, what shall I answer thee!"

Would we pray so as to be accepted of God? Let us shun the vain-glory and offensive ostentation of the Pharisee: let us imitate the sincere humility, and the deep and fervent repentance of the publican: let us cry, as did the Psalmist; and then shall we be able to rejoice as he rejoiced, and praise as he praised.

O God of mercy, hear my call!
My load of guilt remove;
Break down this separating wall,
That bars me from thy love.

Give me the presence of thy grace;
Then my rejoicing tongue

Shall speak aloud thy righteousness,
And make thy praise my song.

JOHN.

PARTING DIRECTIONS OF JESUS CHRIST.

And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it. And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever.—John xiv. 13—16.

That whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he may give it you.-John xv. 16.

And in that day ye shall ask me nothing. Verily, verily, I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it you. Hitherto ye have asked nothing in my name: ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full. At that day, ye shall ask in my name: and I say not unto you, that I will Father for you.-John xvi. 23—26.

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THE sun had descended behind the "mountains which were round about Jerusalem;" and even the last rays of twilight were fading from the spires of her lofty edifices, as Jesus and his twelve disciples were entering an upper room of a house in one of the streets of the "Holy City." It was a solemn and interesting occasion; being the last interview which he should enjoy with them prior to his crucifixion. On this account, doubtless, they seemed dearer to him than He, therefore, took the opportunity presented by the observance of the Passover, to say some things to them. which he had reserved to the present time, but which, now, on the eve of his separation from them, it was expedient for

ever.

them to know. He wished, also, to draw them nearer than ever to his heart; to unbosom to them his inmost love, and thus to prepare them for the pang of parting with their Lord, which he knew was just at hand.

They were soon seated at the table, where, having celebrated the Passover, he instituted the Supper, designed to take the place of that divine and most significant rite, and which was to continue, in all time to come, as a memorial of his love.

"Do this," he cried, "till time shall end,

In mem❜ry of your dying friend;

Meet at my table, and record

The love of your departed Lord.”

While thus engaged, he announced to them his speedy return to his Father. But, lest the annunciation should fill them with sorrow and apprehension, he followed it with the most kind and consolatory assurances. "He sought to prepare them for the approaching trial, by showing them that, though he died, he died with them on his heart." He was going; but it was to his Father, and their Father-to his God, and their God. Indeed, it was most expedient for them that he should go. They would meet with trials and tribulations; but, if he went, he would prepare a place for them, and, in due time, call them home to himself. Meanwhile, he would send the Spirit-long promised, long looked for-who should comfort them, support and animate them; who would communicate to them truths of inestimable value to themselves and the world; and who would carry on, and complete within them, the work of sanctification.

Nor were they to imagine that intercourse between them and himself was here to terminate. He should, indeed, see them no more in the flesh; but he would come to them, and his Father also, and make their abode with them. And, in addition to all these considerations-calculated to mitigate

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