Lights and weapons and armed men.

Real courage.

fire, could not chill. Mysterious help from heaven restored him a little, but though refreshed by heavenly sympathy, we must remember that it was human powers, that had this trial to bear.

At last there is heard through the trees, at a distance down the valley, the sound of approaching voices. Lights are seen too;- and now and then a glittering weapon. They are coming for him. Fly! innocent sufferer, fly! Turn to the dark solitudes behind you, and fly for your life! No. The struggle is over. The Savior, collected and composed, rises and walks on to meet the very swords and spears sent out against him! We must remember, that there was nobody to encourage him, nobody to defend him, or to share his fate. It was in the darkness and stillness of night, the very hour of fear and dread; and the approach of those whose dim forms and suppressed voices arrested his attention, was the signal not of danger, but of death,- nor of death merely, but of protracted and unutterable torture. Still he arose and went forth to meet them. "Whom seek ye?" said he,-"I am he.' We have read this story so often, that it has lost its impression upon us; but could we come to it afresh, and really appreciate the gloomy, dreadful circumstances of the scene, we should feel, that the deserted Savior, in coming down under these circumstances, to meet the torches and the weapons, which were to light and guard him back to such enemies and to such a death, exhibits the loftiest example of fortitude, which the world has ever seen. There was less noise, less parade, less display than at Thermopylae or Trafalgar; but for the real sublimity of courage, the spectacle of this solitary and defenceless sufferer, coming at midnight to meet the betrayer and his band, beams with a moral splendor which never shone on earth before, and will probably never shine again.

Three great traits.

Love of nature.

Kirk White.

We have thus far considered the great leading prin ciples of our Savior's public conduct. As we have presented them they are three.

1. Entire devotedness to his Father's work.

2. Energy, system, and undaunted courage, in prosecuting it.

3. The mildest, most unresisting and forgiving spirit in regard to his own personal wrongs.

We might close our view of his character with these leading principles of it, but there are some other traits of a more private nature, which it is pleasant to notice We shall mention them as they occur

There

1. He evidently observed and enjoyed nature. are many allusions to his solitary walks in the fields and on the mountains, and by the sea-side; but the greatest evidence of his love for nature, is to be seen in the manner in which he speaks of its beauties. A man's metaphors are drawn from the sources with which he is most familiar, or which interest him most; so that we can judge very correctly what the habitual thoughts and feel ings of a writer are, by observing what images arise to his mind, when he is interested in writing or conversation. We take down a volume of poetry, for an illustration of this remark, and open, almost at random, to the following lines by Henry Kirk White.

"God keep thee, Traveller, on thy journey far;
The wind is bitter keen-the snow o'erlays
The hidden pits and dangerous hollow ways,
And darkness will involve thee. No kind star
To-night will guide thee, Traveller,—and the war
Of winds and elements on thy head will break,
And in thy agonizing ear, the shriek

Of spirits on their stormy car,

Will often ring appalling-I portend

A dismal night,—and on my wakeful bed,
Thoughts, Traveller, of thee, will fill my head,

And him, who rides where winds and waves contend
And strives, rude cradled on the seas, to guide
His lonely bark on the tempestuous tide.

The Savior's metaphors.

The lily,

Insensibility of men.

Now such a passage as this admits us very far into the author's habits of thought and feeling. No man

could have written it unless he had often felt the sublimity of the midnight storm, and sympathised strongly with the anxieties and dangers of the lonely traveller. He must have been out in such a scene and realized the emotions it excites, or he could not have painted them so vividly.

We learn in the same manner how distinct were the impressions of beauty or sublimity, which the works of nature made upon the Savior, by the manner in which he alluded to them. Take for instance, the case where he speaks of the decoration of the lilies. What a concepion! We are so familiar with it, that it loses its impres sion upon us, but if we could approach it anew we should be astonished at its boldness and beauty. He is endeavoring to persuade his disciples not to be anxious about their food or clothing, for if they will do God's will, he will take care of them. "Look at the lilies of the field,” says he, "they toil not, neither do they spin, and yet I say. unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these." A cold, heartless man, without taste or sensibility, would not have said such a thing as that. He could not; and we may be as sure, that Jesus Christ had stopped to examine and admire the grace and beauty of the plant, and the exquisitely penciled tints of its petal, as if we had actually seen him bending over it, or pointing it out to the attention of his disciples.

The mass of mankind never notice the beauties and wonders, that are always around them. Among hundreds walking in a garden, it is only a very few, who would perceive the objects of astonishment and delight which abound there. Here are several shrubs side by side. They grow from the same earth, are warmed by the same sun, and refreshed by the same showers; and yet the very same juices coming up one stem, arrange them

The garden.

Its wonders.

The Savior's taste and sensibility.

selves into a currant at the top, — coming up another they form themselves into a pear, and in the third case, into a rose. The real lover of nature pauses to reflect, as he sees these various fruits and flowers, how strange it is, that a mechanism so exquisite can be arranged in those stems, so as to bring such astonishing and such different results from one common store-house of materials. multitude do not think of it at all. They consider it as a matter of course, that figs should grow upon the figtree, and grapes upon the vine, and that is all they think about it.

The

Here is a little seed too. It seems to the eye, lifeless and inorganic; indistinguishable from a useless grain of sand. But what a complicated system is safely packed away in its little covering. Put it into the ground, and in a few months return to the spot, and you find a little tree, covered with leaves and flowers, and giving to many birds and insects a shelter and a home.

Now Jesus Christ noticed these things. He perceived their beauty and enjoyed it. His heart was full of images, which such observations must have furnished. He could not otherwise have so beautifully compared the progress of his kingdom to the growth of such a tree. He could not have related the parable of the sower, if he had not noticed with interest the minutest circumstances connected with the culture of the ground. His beautiful allusions to the vine and to the fig-tree, the wheat and the tares, the birds of the air, and the flocks of the field, all prove the same thing. It is not merely that he spoke of those things, but that he alluded to them in a way so beautiful, and touching, and original, as to prove, that he had an observing eye and a warm heart for the beauties and glories of creation.

2. There is the same kind of evidence that he noticed, with the same observing eye and intelligent interest, the principles and characteristics of human nature. Take

His mode of addressing men.

Moral sympathy.

Reasoning

for example, his story of the father's welcoming his returning prodigal,-the woman seeking the lost money,the steward making friends with his master's debtors, and the pardoned sinner loving much because much had been forgiven. He observed every thing; and his imagination was stored with an inexhaustible supply of images, drawn from every source, and with these he illustrated and enforced his principles in a manner altogether unparalleled by any writings sacred or profane.

3. In exerting an influence over man, he endeavored to awaken the moral sympathies, rather than produce cold conviction through the intellect. In regard to almost all important moral and religious truth, there is a witness within every man's heart, and it was the aim of our Savior to awaken this witness and to encourage him to speak. Other men attempt to do every thing by reasoning,-cold, naked reasoning; which, after all, it may De almost said, is the most absolutely inefficient means which can be applied, for the production of any moral effects upon men.

Christ very seldom attempted to prove what he said. He expressed and illustrated truth, and then left it to work its own way. Sometimes he argued, but then it was almost always in self-defence. When at liberty to choose his own mode, as for example in the sermon on the mount, he said such things as commended themselves to every man's conscience, and their power consisted in the clearness and emphasis with which he said them. If he reasoned at all, the distance was very short between his premises and his conclusion, and his steps very simple and few.

4. Jesus loved his friends. The duty of universal benevolence, which he so strongly enforced, he never meant should supersede the claims of private, personal friendship, or interfere with its enjoyments. He himself, while he was ready to die for thousands, preferred to