heaven, it was agreed, that he should be the successful candidate who should first behold the rays of the rising sun. So while the rest were gazing with their eyes fixed on that part of the horizon where they expected the great luminary of the day, the god of Persia, to ascend, one of the number bore away the royal prize by turning his face toward the west. He discovered a stream of the sun's beams by reflection from the summit of a mountain, or the pinnacle of a temple, before any part of his orb was yet visible by a direct light.

This story has the appearance of a little allegory, rather than of true history; and it is possible the meaning may be this, that he who carried the crown in that competition succeeded by not appearing too forward and eager in the pursuit. He modestly declined, he turned his face away from that great dignity; and for this very reason, it met him with the more willingness. The things which we desire the most ardently are not always to be demanded eagerly. Extreme selfishness is often the cause of its own disappointment. The greedy go away unfed; while he that "scattereth, increaseth," and the liberal are loaded with good.

"The Lord appeared unto Solomon, and God said, Ask what I shall give thee. And Solomon said, Thy servant is in the midst of thy people whom thou hast chosen, a great people, that cannot be numbered, nor counted for multitude: give therefore thy servant an understanding heart. And God said unto him, Because thou hast asked this thing, and hast not asked for thyself long life, neither hast asked riches for thyself, nor hast asked the life of thine enemies, but understanding to discern judgment; behold, I have done according to thy words; lo, I have given thee a wise and understanding heart and I have also given thee that which thou hast not asked, both riches and honour."

How charming is the contest between beneficence and modesty! the liberal hand and the disinterested bosom! Even

the receiver divides the glory with his divine Benefactor; and his generous concern for others returns with accumulated benefits and blessings upon himself.

Attend to the example of Job. Under the pressure of his great calamities and afflictions, he applied himself, and no wonder, to God by prayer; and being a good man, we may be allowed to suppose, that his petitions were not fruitless. But the petition which achieved his recovery, or, however, that which he was offering up at the moment in which it pleased Almighty God to accomplish it, was a petition for other persons. It is written, "The Lord turned the captivity of Job, when he prayed for his friends."

How signal is this instance of God's dispensations! what lustre doth it reflect upon that part of our applications to Him, which we allot to the benefit of our brethren. You observe, that this eminent pattern of piety and of patience had been both frequent and earnest in his supplications in his own favour; complaining, pleading, and, like another Jacob, wrestling with God: "O that my grief were thoroughly weighed ! it would be heavier than the sand; and my words are swallowed up. O that I might have my request, that God would grant me the thing that I long for! Why hast thou set me as a mark against thee? I will speak in the bitterness of my soul; is it good unto thee, that thou shouldest oppress? that thou shouldest despise the work of thine hands? Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as clay; and wilt thou bring me into dust again?"

Job, we see, was sufficiently vehement in his own behalf : and yet, as if his expostulations were all in vain, “Though I speak, saith he, my grief is not assuaged: and though I forbear, what am I eased? God hath delivered me up to the ungodly. He breaketh me with breach upon breach. My face is foul with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death. I have said to corruption, Thou art my father; to the

worm, Thou art my mother and my sister. God hath overthrown me: I cry out of wrong, but I am not heard; I cry aloud, but there is no judgment."

Not that this was strictly true; or that his petitions even for himself were utterly without effect. God Almighty had mercy in store, though he kept it back from him all the long time that he was making the most pathetic supplications for himself, and then bestowed it when he began to pray for others: "The Lord turned the captivity of Job, when he prayed for his friends."

Nay, these very friends, as they are here styled, hardly merited so favourable an appellation; accusing him of crimes he had not committed, and upbraiding him with those punishments of his sins, which were, indeed, the trials of his virtue. And he was sensible of all the bitterness of their reproaches : "Ye overwhelm the fatherless; ye dig a pit for your friend. If your soul were in my soul's stead, I could heap up words against you, and shake mine head at you. But I would strengthen you with my mouth; and the moving of my lips should assuage your grief. He teareth me in his wrath, who hateth me: he gnasheth upon me with his teeth: mine enemy sharpeneth his eyes upon me."

Yet was it required of Job to become the intercessor for these very persons, and to beg for them the forgiveness of those offences which had been committed against himself. And then, at last, after this illustrious testimony of his charity, added to those of his patience and piety, when his virtues were thus brought to the height, and appeared in all their glory, then it pleased the wisdom and mercy of God, breaking forth out of obscurity, and made conspicuous by His judgments, to restore and double his prosperity.

THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST.

201

A Socratic Dialogue.

But what sceptic was ever satisfied? What caviller confuted? The adversaries of our faith finding no further resources on the plain ground of common sense, make their last retreat into the thorns of subtilty.

The resurrection, it seems, was an event so strange, that no testimony whatever is enough to prove it. The story, we may be sure, is not true, whoever he be that tells it.

On what foundation, pray, do you build an assurance so very absolute?

On the foundation of experience.

As how?

I am to tell you, then, that we know nothing of the essence of causality; but found all our assent upon similitude.

I am not sure that I comprehend you.

You cannot be possessed of so fine an argument in its perfection, without having recourse to the original inventor. It may suffice to let you know in brief, that we believe always what is most likely, and call that most likely which most resembles what we have before met with.

But things often fall out that were not likely.

Yes, so often, that we find it, in general, likely that they should; and in each particular case reflect which of the two is less likely, that the thing should be as it is represented, or the reporter represent it falsely.

Have you ever found in the course of your experience that anything was not true which had been as well attested as the resurrection?

It was a miracle.

Experience, therefore, universal expe

rience declares against it.

That of the five hundred brethren who saw it was, sure, on

the other side.

You must appeal to present experience. Nature we find unchangeable.

Nature! When I dispute with you about Christianity, I suppose that you believe a God.

You suppose perhaps too fast.

Then I have no further dispute with you: I leave you to other hands. Christianity desires no greater honour than to be received by every one that is not an atheist.

Suppose there be a God: what then?

Why, then he made the world.

Well?

And a multitude of things must have been done at that time of the creation, which are not comprehended within the present course of nature. Every animal, every vegetable, must have been brought into being at first in some manner of which the world now affords no examples. Of this we have no experience, yet we allow it to be true; and we need no testimony, for we know it must have happened.

And if the Son of God were to assume our nature a second time, and be once more crucified and buried, according to the unalterable laws of the universe, He must rise again from the grave, and "the pains of death be loosed" as before, “because it was not POSSIBLE that He should be holden of it."

The Lord's Supper.

[There may be some question as to the propriety of ascribing to a Divine speaker a discourse like the following. But it must be accepted as the author designed it—as at once an epitome and paraphrase of the Redeemer's last address to His disciples. Without adopting all its sentiments, we are glad to quote it, as coming so near that great theme of "Christ crucified," from which most of the preaching of those days kept so strangely aloof.]