sphere which I can never reach; he is a wonderful char acter, but useless as an example for the purposes of life." On the contrary, the Christian must be satisfied, that, while he remains destitute of any of those principles of excellence, which were exemplified in the life of Christ, he is essentially defective in the Christian character.

I cannot leave this subject without a few more remarks un what I have called the practicableness of the character of Christ, and the nature of his instructions. Not only did he not affect singularity in his mode of life, which is the sure companion of enthusiasm; not only did he dress, eat, converse like other men, but he evidently suffered his disciples to do the same. He supposes them to follow some profession, to be fishermen, soldiers, taxgatherers; to marry, to submit to magistrates, to carry on their usual business, and, when they could be spared from his service, to return again to their respective employments.

Our Savior's instructions are not like those of Rousseau, adapted to men in an inconceivable state of nature, to which this visionary enthusiast would recall them. They do not require men, like some of the ancient Stoics, to throw their wealth into the sea, or to inflict upon themselves unnatural austerities. But everything about Jesus, in precept and practice, is mild, cheering, great; everything is suited to the precise wants of man in society.

And in his death, who would not submit to crucifixion, could he but die in the temper of Jesus, could he but commend his spirit with such confidence to God? He has died for us, that he might teach us how to die. My friends, may his courage fortify us, may his devotion warm our hearts, and may we never think his commandments grievous, or his example impracticable.

SERMON XVIII.

JOHN XIII. 23.

NOW THERE WAS LEANING ON JESUS' BOSOM ONE OF HIS DISCIPLES,

WHOM JESUS LOVED.

WHAT an expression is this! The disciple whom Jesus loved! There was one, then, in the fraternity of apostles, whom it was not invidious to call the favorite of Jesus. This beloved Son of the almighty Father, whose whole soul was continually filled with the magnitude of the undertaking in which he was engaged for the salvation of a world, and at whom men and angels were gazing with admiration; this Jesus, who had experienced, through the whole of his ministry, nothing but scorn and ingratitude from those whom he came to save, who knew that he was soon to be sacrificed for this hard-hearted world, who was, at the point of time, to which our text refers, anticipating the defection of his dearest friends and followers, and touching upon those fearful scenes in which his holy and benevolent life was ordained painfully to terminate; in a word, this friend of man, of weak, lost, wicked man, in all ages, countries, and conditions, has himself one friend who leaned upon his bosom, and whom he best loved. What an affection must that have been which was not dormant in the breast of Jesus in such an hour as this!

Let us attend, first, to the history and character of John, and,

Secondly, to the peculiar affection which existed between him and his Master. The reflections, which follow, may throw some light on the nature and value of that virtuous friendship which is not inconsistent with the spirit of the gospel.

It is a remarkable instance of the modesty of the New Testament writers, that they say so little of themselves. Two of the evangelists, Matthew and John, were admitted to the most familiar intercourse with Jesus, and were honored with the gift of apostleship and its supernatural endowments; yet we hear nothing from them of these distinctions. We should not know, except from traditional authority and from undesigned intimations, discovered in their writings, that they were the authors of the Gospels which now bear their names. When they speak of themselves, it is in the third person; and then they record their own faults and mistakes, some of which were of no small importance, with the most amiable ingenuousness. In their love and admiration of the Savior, whose history they were writing, they seem to have forgotten themselves; and, so completely are the historians lost in their subject, that, if they drop a hint of themselves, it seems to be rather to diminish our respect for them, and to direct it all to their Master.

In the case of John, it would be especially gratifying, to know somewhat more of the circumstances of his life, that we might discover what there was in his disposition, that made him a favorite with Jesus. His Gospel and his Epistles seem to be the breathings of a soul full of love; and we can hardly believe that it was this affectionate disciple, who would have called down fire upon the village of

the Samaritans, or who petitioned for the highest honors in his Master's expected kingdom.

It is generally supposed, that John was the youngest of the twelve disciples. We know that he and his brother James were the sons of Zebedee and Salome, who is called by one of the Fathers a daughter of Joseph, by a former wife, and, of course, related to our Lord. This circumstance, if true, very naturally accounts for the petition of their mother, that her two sons might sit on his right and left hand in his kingdom, as well as for our Savior's recommending to John, as he was expiring, the care of Mary, his own mother. The youth, the tenderness, the consanguinity of John, no doubt, then, kept him near the person of our Savior, while he lived, and generated that peculiar attachment which, in this favored disciple, would not allow him entirely to desert his Master in the hours of his anguish and dissolution. It is true, that, upon our Savior's arrest, all the disciples forsook him and fled; but John, and John alone, as far as we know, returned and stood near the cross, watching the departing spirit as it lingered on his lips, while he commended his weeping mother to this disciple, and his enemies to God. John saw the body laid in the sepulchre, he was with Peter and visited it after the resurrection, and he was present at all the appearances of our Lord to his disciples.

By this evangelist is recorded an interesting conversation, after the resurrection, in which our Savior tried the love of the fallen and repentant Peter, and predicted his martyrdom. But Peter was curious to know what should be the fate of John. "Lord," said he, "and what shall this man do? Jesus saith unto him, If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Follow thou me. Then

went this saying abroad among the brethren, that that disciple should not die." Thus was Peter's curiosity rebuked, and the fate of John rendered an object of attention.

From the concurrent testimony of ecclesiastical historians, he alone of all the apostles appears to have survived the destruction of Jerusalem. There are many stories related of him by Christian writers, to which we are not authorized to give implicit belief. There is one, however, which is so characteristic, and so much in the spirit of his Epistles, that we are willing to admit it on the high authority of Jerome. "The blessed apostle John," says he, "living, at Ephesus, to extreme old age, and being difficultly carried to church in the arms of the disciples, and being unable to make a long discourse, every time they assembled, was wont to say nothing but this: 'Little children, love one another.' At length the disciples and brethren, who attended, tired with hearing so often the 'Sir, why do you always say this?' answer, worthy of himself: Because,' says he, it is the Lord's command; and, if that alone be done, it is suf ficient.'"*

same thing, said, Who then made this

I proposed, secondly, to illustrate the affection which subsisted between Jesus and his disciples, and especially that which he felt towards John. Turn your thoughts towards that last supper, when the Savior of the world sat surrounded by his disciples. He knew that they had followed him, hitherto, rather from interested than from affectionate motives. He knew that they expected from him gifts and distinctions which he would not and could not bestow, and were even, at that moment, mistaken as to the

* Lardner, Credibility, part ii. ch. cxiv. s. viii. 4 (3).