think it beneath him to call to repentance even

the worst of men 4.

The Evangelists concur in representing that it was principally for others that Christ's concern was manifested, though he was not exempted from sorrows even on his own account. Like David, rivers of waters ran down his eyes, because men kept not his law 5.' He was moved with compassion' for the multitudes, because they fainted for lack of knowledge, and were scattered abroad, as sheep having no shepherd. He was 'grieved' for proud and prejudiced unbelievers for the hardness of heart of the Pharisees-for the miseries about to come on Jerusalem in consequence of her persecuting and rebellious spirit-for the sin of his murderers, in whose behalf he uttered, in the midst of his own sufferings, that extenuating prayer-Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. Though himself emphatically a man of sorrows,

4 Luke, vii. 37-47.

5. Ps. cxix. 136.

6 Matt. ix. 36. Mark, iii. 5. Luke, xix. 41–44. xxiii.

34.

and acquainted with grief, yet one of the strongest expressions of feeling ascribed by the Evangelists to our Lord, was occasioned by the obstinate unbelief of the Pharisees. He sighed deeply in his heart, and saith, why doth this generation seek after a sign? He wept indeed at the grave of Lazarus; but his tears were probably far more excited by the thoughts of that wretchedness which sin had brought into the world, and of which the scene immediately before his eyes was so striking an instance, than by that sorrow of the bystanders which was so soon to be turned into joy. Indeed, St. John expressly attributes his grief to the want of faith of the Jews who distrusted the extent of his power after the many miracles they had witnessed. 'Some of them said, Could not this man which opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this man should not have died. Jesus therefore again groaning in himself, cometh to the grave.'

7 Mark, viii. 12.

8 John, xi. 33—38.

The circumstances of this case were in fact such as would touch every tender feeling in the heart of our compassionate High Priest. Those were around him whom he loved more than his own life, for whose sake he had left the bosom of the Father, and had renounced the adoration of all the hosts of heaven, to become the object of scorn and persecution on earth. But of all that multitude whom curiosity or interest had collected round the grave of Lazarus, not one was filled with a proper sense of the character of Him who had taken up his residence in the flesh among them, or was influenced by any confiding belief in his unlimited rule over the spirits of quick and dead. The disciples were so far from expecting any extraordinary reversal of the laws of nature, that on the proposition of Thomas (v. 16), they had gone that they might die with their Master, conceiving that he would be exposed to unusual danger from the vicinity of Bethany to Jerusalem. Neither Martha nor Mary thought that the power of Jesus could avail to heal their brother, without his personal presence, much less to restore him to life after

his actual decease, though neither of them hesitated to acknowledge that if he had been there, Lazarus had not died (vss. 21 and 32). The remaining spectators openly murmured against the apparent limitation of that power which had sufficed to bestow sight upon the blind, but seemed unequal to the performance of a miracle the consequences of which would be still more beneficial.

With these instances of human frailty in his sight, well might Jesus groan in the spirit and be troubled at the veil which sin had cast over the understandings of men, and lament the infirmities from which even his most familiar associates were not exempt. And how infinitely is the condescension manifested by him enhanced, when we consider on whom it was bestowed. Tenderness shown towards man in his fallen state is surely the highest exercise of the feeling. Yet herein God commended his love towards us, that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for

us.

Upon several occasions our Lord referred to the miracles which he wrought, as one of the tests of his divine mission. Now it would have been sufficient for this purpose, had they been nothing more than abstract exertions of supernatural power. The evidence derived from them would have been equally strong, had they only consisted of such acts as causing stones to be made bread for the relief of his own personal wants, or casting himself down from the pinnacle of the temple to demonstrate that he was secure from harm under the ministration of attendant angels. He might have proved his dominion over the elements by walking on the water when no urgent danger of his friends required his presence, or by calming the sea when his disciples were not exposed to its fury. He might have called down fire from heaven, according to the suggestion of his disciples, to consume his enemies, or he might have struck down to the ground in a moment the servant of the high priest, instead of healing his ear with a touch, and restraining the unseasonable violence of Peter.