spit in his face, and buffeted him;

and others

smote him with the palms of their hands, saying, Prophesy unto us, thou Christ, Who is he that smote thee?" Matt. xxvi. 67, 68.

In beholding the Lord of glory delivered over to these impious wretches, who dared to treat him with such shameful obloquy, we should feel less indignation against them, less even of tender commiseration for Him who was thus treated, than of anger against ourselves. For Christ has been put to shame by all, as he died for all. All have contributed, by their transgressions, to his sacrifice, and to the painful circumstances with which it was attended. proving how deeply we are affected by the sense of all that he suffered for us, is to bow ourselves low in the dust before him, condemning ourselves for all the ignominy which he endured, and with deep humility and heartfelt repentance, look upon Him whom our sins have pierced, and mourn.

The best way, therefore, of

And let us always bear in mind, that our pride brought all this shame upon our Saviour. That pride of our nature which knows no bounds, was the cause that the Son of God, in making an atonement for it, descended to the lowest depths

of self-abasement. Where should we have been, if he had claimed the glory which was due to him, instead of submitting to the ignominy which we deserved? How from henceforth should we prize the lovely grace of humility! and what more fearful picture can we have of pride, than the contemplation of all that it cost our blessed Lord to make an atonement for it?

VIII.

PETER DENYING HIS LORD.

How could so great an apostle fall so low! How could he who had witnessed so many miracles-who had beheld his Master's glory on the mount of transfiguration—who had solemnly confessed his Lord as having the words of eternal life-how could he, after all, deny him! Had he not seen him, but a short time before, with a single word abash the soldiers sent to take him Had he then so soon forgotten his own often repeated assurance of following him even unto death? How was it that the temptation itself did not bring to his recollection his Lord's prediction, that that very night he should deny him thrice? Why did not his first

eyes to the danger he was in?

denial open his

How could his

conscience still continue quiet, and allow him to add a second and yet a third sin of base ingratitude to his first? I have no desire, in making these reflections, to render more striking the unfaithfulness of Peter, which was subsequently in mercy turned to his profit, by deeply humbling him. He proved the sincerity of his repentance before men by the bitter tears he shed, and in his after life by his undaunted zeal and courage, and finally by his glorious martyrdom.

But I, who am but a feeble reed, may learn a useful lesson in considering one of the pillars of the church thus thrown down. I see by this fearful example, how in times of sudden temptation all our light may be withdrawn from us; how quickly fear, or any other passion, may take possession of our souls, make us forget all our good resolutions, and conceal the path of duty from our eyes; how by degrees a fault, which at first was but imprudent curiosity, may lead us on to awful sin; how one false step induces another, as in the case of Peter, who from a first lie was tempted at last to persist in it with curses and oaths!

Nor was it in answer to the questions of the

rulers of the nation, but in speaking to a simple servant maid, that the apostle trembles, and is overcome. He would not believe Him, who knew better than himself the extent of his weakness. He thought himself strong, when he was deplorably weak. He fancied himself proof against the strongest temptation, while, if left to himself, he would yield to the slightest. He needed, therefore, to be exposed to danger, that he might know what he was in himself. The temptation met him, and he fell. He had not prepared himself for the encounter, though repeatedly warned by his Lord; he had rashly sought it, unarmed and unsupported. Left alone with his false courage and his self-confidence, he was made to feel to what desperate lengths he could go.

But his Divine Master did not abandon him when he fell. If ever the mercy of Jesus Christ shone forth with its loveliest features, so as to win over all our confidence, it was on this occasion. His disciple had just denied him—a disciple moreover who had been frequently warned. He had rashly exposed himself to temptation, without the preparation of prayer; and this disciple considers as a reproach the bare suspicion that he