more weight to our graves. Oh let thy faithful agents, by the power of thy law and the grace of thy Gospel, take off the stone, that thy voice may enter into the grave of miserable corruption!

Was it a modest kind of mannerliness in Martha, that she would not have Christ annoyed with the ill scent of that stale carcass? or was it out of distrust of reparation, since her brother had passed all the degrees of corruption, that she says, "Lord, by this time he stinketh, for he hath been dead four days?" He that understood hearts, found somewhat amiss in that intimation; his answer had not endeavoured to rectify that which was utterly faultless. I fear, the good woman meant to object this as a likely obstacle to any further purposes or proceedings of Christ. Weak faith is still apt to lay blocks of difficulties in the way of the great works of God.

Four days were enough to make any corpse noisome. Death itself is not unsavoury; immediately upon dissolution the body retains the wonted sweetness it is the continuance under death that is thus offensive. Neither is it otherwise in our spiritual condition: the longer we lie under our sin, the more rotten and corrupt we are. He, who upon the fresh commission of his sin recovers himself by a speedy repentance, yields no ill scent to the nostrils of the Almighty. The candle that is presently blown in again offends not; it is the snuff, which continues choked with its own moisture, that sends up unwholesome and odious fumes. O Saviour, thou wouldst yield to death, thou wouldst not yield to corruption : ere the fourth day thou wert risen again. I cannot but receive many deadly foils; but oh, do thou raise me up again, ere I shall pass the degrees of rottenness in my sins and trespasses!

They that laid their hands to the stone, doubtless held now still awhile, and looked one while on Christ, another while upon Martha, to hear what issue of resolution would follow upon so important an objec

tion; when they find a light touch of taxation to Martha, "Said I not to thee, that if thou wouldst believe, thou shouldst see the glory of God?" That holy woman had before professed her belief, as Christ had professed his great intentions; both were now forgotten and now our Saviour is fain to revive both her memory and faith; "Said I not to thee?" The best of all saints are subject to fits of unbelief and oblivion, the only remedy whereof must be the inculcation of God's merciful promises of their relief and supportation. O God, if thou hast said it, I dare believe; I dare cast my soul upon the belief of every word of thine. "Faithful art thou which hast promised, who wilt also do it."

In spite of all the unjust discouragements of nature, we must obey Christ's command. Whatever Martha suggests, they remove the stone, and may now see and smell him dead, whom they shall soon see revived. The scent of the corpse is not so unpleasing to them as the perfume of their obedience is sweet to Christ. And now, when all impediments are removed, and all hearts ready for the work, our Saviour addresses to the miracle.

His eyes begin; they are lift up to heaven. It was the malicious mis-suggestion of his enemies, that he looked down to Beelzebub: the beholders shall now see whence he expects and derives his power, and shall by him learn whence to expect and hope for all success. The heart and the eye must go together: he, that would have aught to do with God must be sequestered and lifted up from earth.

His tongue seconds his eye: "Father." Nothing more stuck in the stomach of the Jews than that Christ called himself the Son of God: this was imputed to him for a blasphemy, worthy of stones. How seasonably is this word spoken in the hearing of these Jews, in whose sight he will be presently approved so! How can ye now, O ye cavillers, except at that title which ye shall see irrefragably justified? Well may

he call God Father, that can raise the dead out of the grave. In vain shall ye snarl at the style, when ye are convinced of the effect.

I hear of no prayer, but a thanks for hearing. While thou saidst nothing, O Saviour, how doth thy Father hear thee? Was it not with thy Father and thee, as it was with thee and Moses? Thou saidst, "Let me alone, Moses," when he spake not. Thy will was thy prayer. Words express our hearts to men, thoughts to God. Well didst thou know, out of the self-sameness of thy will with thy Father's, that if thou didst but think in thy heart that Lazarus should rise, he was now raised. It was not for thee to pray vocally and audibly, lest those captious hearers should say, thou didst all by entreaty, nothing by power. Thy thanks overtake thy desires: ours require time and distance: our thanks arise from the echo of our prayers resounding from heaven to our hearts; thou, because thou art at once in earth and heaven, and knowest the grant to be of equal paces with the request, most justly thankest in praying.

Now ye cavilling Jews are thinking straight, Is there such distance betwixt the Father and the Son? is it so rare a thing for the Son to be heard, that he pours out his thanks for it as a blessing unusual? Do ye not now see that he, who made your heart, knows it, and anticipates your fond thoughts with the same breath? "I knew that thou hearest me always, but I said this for their sakes, that they might believe."

Merciful Saviour, how can we enough admire thy goodness, who makest our belief the scope and drift of thy doctrine and actions? Alas, what wert thou the better, if they believed thee sent from God? what wert thou the worse, if they believed it not? Thy perfection and glory stand not upon the slippery terms of our approbation or dislike; but is real in thyself, and that infinite, without possibility of our increase or diminution. We, we only are they that have either the gain or loss in thy receipt or rejection: yet so

dost thou affect our belief, as if it were more thine advantage than ours.

O Saviour, while thou spakest to thy Father, thou liftedst up thine eyes; now thou art to speak unto dead Lazarus, thou liftedst up thy voice, and criedst aloud, "Lazarus, come forth." Was it that the strength of the voice might answer to the strength of the affection? since we faintly require what we care not to obtain, and vehemently utter what we earnestly desire; was it that the greatness of the voice might answer to the greatness of the work? was it that the hearers might be witnesses of what words were used in so miraculous an act? no magical incantations, but authoritative and divine commands: was it to signify, that Lazarus's soul was called from far? the speech must be loud that shall be heard in another world was it in relation to the estate of the body of Lazarus, whom thou hadst reported to sleep? since those that are in a deep and dead sleep cannot be awaked without a loud call: or was it in a representation of that loud voice of the last trumpet, which shall sound into all graves, and raise all flesh from their dust?

Even so still, Lord, when thou wouldst raise a soul from the death of sin, and grave of corruption, no easy voice will serve. Thy strongest commands, thy loudest denunciations of judgments, the shrillest and sweetest promulgations of thy mercies are but enough.

How familiar a word is this, "Lazarus, come forth!” no other than he was wont to use while they lived together. Neither doth he say, Lazarus revive; but as if he supposed him already living; "Lazarus, come forth :" to let them know, that those who are dead to us, are to and with him alive; yea, in a more entire and feeling society than while they carried their clay about them. Why do I fear that separation which shall more unite me to my Saviour? Neither was the word more familiar than commanding, "Lazarus, come forth." Here is no suit to

his Father, no abjuration to the deceased, but a flat and absolute injunction, "Come forth." O Saviour, that is the voice that I shall once hear sounding into the bottom of my grave, and raising me up out of my dust; that is the voice that shall pierce the rocks and divide the mountains, and fetch up the dead out of the lowest deeps. Thy word made all, thy word shall repair all. Hence, all ye diffident fears; he whom I trust is omnipotent.

It was the Jewish fashion to enwrap the corpse in linen, to tie the hands and feet, and to cover the face of the dead. The fall of man, besides weakness, brought shame upon him. Ever since, even while he lives, the whole body is covered; but the face, because some sparks of that extinct majesty remain there, is wont to be left open. In death, all those poor remainders being gone, and leaving deformity and ghastliness in the room of them, the face is covered also.

There lies Lazarus bound in double fetters: one almighty word hath loosed both, and now "he that was bound came forth." He, whose power could not be hindered by the chains of death, cannot be hindered by linen bonds; he that gave life, gave motion, gave direction: he that guided the soul of Lazarus into the body, guided the body of Lazarus without his eyes, moved the feet without the full liberty of his regular paces: no doubt the same power slackened those swathing-bands of death, that the feet might have some little scope to move, though not with that freedom that followed after. Thou didst not only, O Saviour, raise the body of Lazarus, but the faith of the beholders. They cannot deny him dead, whom they saw rising; they see the signs of death, with the proofs of life; those very swathes convinced him to be the man that was raised. Thy less miracle confirms the greater; both confirm the faith of the beholders. Oh clear and irrefragable example of our resuscitation! Say now, ye shameless Sadducees, with