Consequences no criterion of guilt.

The murderer.

are not the ultimate design of human laws. Their object is simply to protect the community, from the aggressions of evil men. Now a wicked feeling does, comparatively, no immediate injury to society, and as protection is the aim of law and government among men, they yield the ground of malicious and envious feelings, and even intentions; and taking a stand upon the nearest limit of the open act, they say to human passions, "Hither shalt thou come, but no farther.” It is here alone, that human law arms itself with its penalties, and this is the whole field of its conflict with the wickedness of man.

God's law has, however, a very different object. Its design is not merely to repress the outbreaking of sin, so as to protect men from its injuries,—but to remove and eradicate for ever the guilty spirit. It seeks not to arrest the consequences, but to destroy the cause. Its design is to ascertain the true character, to deal with every one as his true character deserves, and, if possible, to bring the wandering and miserable sinner back to duty and to happiness. Human laws say therefore, to man, "Take care that you never carry your sins so far as to encroach upon your neighbor's rights,- we must secure protection." God's law says to him, "You must not sin at all." The one denounces punishments in proportion to the injury which is done, the other regulates its penalties by the exact measure of the secret guilt incurred. A human government grasps a man who has plunged his knife into his neighbor's bosom; but when a skilful physician tries his power,- stops the flowing blood, allays the rising fever, and saves the endangered life, it immediately relaxes its grasp, and says in spirit, "Go free from the charge of murder; the physician who stopped the injury, has saved your life. We look only at consequences. But the divine government will arrest the criminal as he endeavors to move away, and say to him, Stop, you are a murderer. God looks not at the con

The feelings of the heart and external conduct.

sequences, but at the guilt. Whoso hateth his brother is a murderer."

For these, and perhaps other reasons, human laws, and consequently to a great extent, public sentiment, has condemned, almost exclusively, in this world, the open acts of wickedness; and thus men, if their conduct is fair, are and always have been prone to consider it as of very little consequence, what corrupt desires, or raging passions possess their hearts. If the fires do not flash out to view, they care little how luridly they burn within. But God sees not as man sees. He regards the heart as the true seat of virtue and of vice, and the external conduct, which we notice so attentively, he almost passes by; his eye looks through all these exterior coverings, and, penetrating to the inmost soul, he comes to a contest with iniquity in the very heart and centre of its reign.

How obvious and unquestionable is the principle that the external conduct is regulated quite as much by the circumstances in which one is placed, as by the true character; and that therefore external conduct is no safe criterion of character. A thousand illustrations of this principle might be drawn from the most common occurrences of life. A lady of elegance and refinement, moving in high rank in society, surrounded by circumstances which most effectually forbid the open exhibition of the evil passions of the heart, by any of the rough forms in which they often show themselves, cherishes, we will suppose, envy or jealousy, which soon ripens into anger towards an acquaintance; and in peculiar circumstances, it is possible that she may be almost continually under the influence of these feelings, so that she lies down at night, and rises in the morning, with these bad passions rankling in her bosom. But in the presence of the object of her displeasure, and surrounded by society, how possible is it for all external indication of her feel

The lady.

The rude boy.

Application of these principles.

ings to be restrained. Her brow is smooth, her eye is mild, her tone is gentle;- and so completely have the circumstances in which Providence has placed her, trained her to the necessity and to the habit of civility, that she dares not transgress. A rude and savage boy, with the same passions, and precisely the same state of heart, not being controlled by these circumstances of restraint, displays his passions by open malediction, or by clubs and stones. Now how different are the views which the world takes of such cases as these. And I am far from saying that they must necessarily be equal in guilt. The passions which are the same in kind, in both, may differ in degree. What I wish to say, is, that God looks at the passions of the heart, and not at the open exhibitions of them, which the circumstances of the individual may lead him to make. This is what is meant by the 'passage, "Whoso hateth his brother is a murderer." So with all other sins. A man's character for honesty does not, in the eye of God, depend upon his not stealing, but upon his being, in heart, cordially willing and desirous that all around him should enjoy fully their rights; his character for benevolence, not upon his deeds of charity, but upon his heartfelt desires that all connected with him should be happy;— his character for truth, not upon his refraining from directly falsifying his word, but upon his being sincere and honest in heart. Mankind do not consider these distinctions. A very large part of the virtue of this world is the virtue of circumstances, not of character; that is, it is no virtue at all; and yet it is esteemed and applauded by men, as if it originated in the loftiest moral principle.

But the reader may perhaps inquire what these remarks have to do with the crucifixion of the Savior. They have this to do with it. The principles we have been considering show us that though the crucifixion, as an event,—a transaction, may have been extraordinary

The characters of the crucifiers.

Their characters common.

and dreadful in the extreme, it does not thence follow that as sin it was very extraordinary. Certain sinful propensities and passions in that case led to consequences, which cannot in ordinary cases flow from them. But precisely the same principles and passions may reign in the heart, and load it with an equal burden of guilt, though the circumstances in which the actor is placed, may be such as entirely to modify, or even effectually to restrain the results. If we wish then to derive the intended advantage from this portion of Scripture history, we must consider these things,-we must make these discriminations, between the sin itself, and the particular forms in which, from the peculiar circumstances of the case, it then assumed. We must look at the characters of the actors, rather than their deeds; for in character, we may be similar to them, though from the entirely different circumstances in which we are placed, we have not, and we never can have the opportunity to commit the crimes they perpetrated. I shall endeavor, therefore, as I go on to the examination of the story, to bring to view, as clearly as possible, the characters of those concerned in it with particular reference, too, to the aspects which similar characters would assume at the present day. If I am not very greatly deceived, Pontius Pilate and Judas Iscariot, and even the Roman soldiers, have far more imitators and followers, than is generally supposed, and that too, within the very pale of the Christian church.

We left the Savior, at the close of the last chapter, going out, late at night, with his disciples, from the place where they had held their last assembly. They passed out of the gate, and went down the hill, across the rivulet which flowed through the valley, and ascended the mount of Olives on the other side One however was absent.

Judas Iscariot.

His probable character and plans

Judas Iscariot, it will be recollected, had left the assembly some time before. He had his arrangements to mature for delivering the Savior to the soldiers appointed to make him prisoner. It seems that the leading priests had been desirous of taking him, for the purpose of bringing him to trial, but they did not dare to do it openly, for fear of an uproar among the people; their only other plan, therefore, was to find out his private retreats, and send an armed band for him at some time when he was alone with his friends. This plan it was difficult to execute, for Jesus generally withdrew himself very privately, when his work was done, and they did not know how to find him. Judas relieved them of the difficulty.

But who was Judas? let us look a little at his history and character.

There seems to be no evidence against the supposition that he was just such a man as any other of those worldly professors of religion, which are to be found by thousands in the Christian church at the present day. It is plain that he was not that abandoned and hardened reprobate which he is very generally supposed to have been: if so, he would not have hung himself, when he found what were the consequences of his crime. It does not seem to be at all improbable, that, when he joined the Savior's cause, he thought he was sincere. A man would not be likely to connect himself with such a cause for the express purpose of making money. This is possible, but certainly very improbable. It seems far more reasonable to suppose, that he became a professed disciple, as thousands do at the present day, with his heart unchanged, though not aware of his own true character.

They who have a strong love for the world, have often no uncommon share of worldly wisdom; or, at least, those who love money know well how to take care of it; and