glory. In such features I am to read Him "whose visage was marred more than any man," because of His endurings for us, and the contradiction of sinners against Him, and not because of the decaying tendencies of natural old age in the smallest measure of them, as though such tendencies by possibility could attach to Him.

The Jews are again and again charged with being His murderers (Acts ii. 36; iii. 15; vii. 52....). Surely they are, and rightly so. We are all in the same condemnation. It is the guilt of murder that lies at our door. The Jews took his blood on them and on their children. To all moral intent, in a full judicial sense, they were "His betrayers and murderers," though it was neither their spear, nor the pressure of the cross, nor the yielding of nature, which took that life awayHe gave it up of himself. No man took it from Him. He laid it down of Himself. Strange it may sound in the ears of man, and strange it may seem to their reasonings, but what we read touching this is perfect in the esteem of faith. "No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again; this commandment have I received of my Father." He was free and yet under commandment. Strange all this, again I admit, to reasonings and unbelief, but perfect in the judgment of faith.

The Son of God died on the tree, where the wicked hand of man had nailed Him, and the eternal purpose and grace of God had appointed Him. There He died, and died because He was there. The Lamb was slain. Who would think of gainsaying such a thought? Wicked hands murdered Him, and God provided Him as His own Lamb for the altar. Who would touch for a moment so needed and precious a mystery? And yet. the Lamb gave up His own life. No exhaustion under.

It has been observed by another, that under the law no victim was fit for God's altar which had been subject to accident, or was the witness of the imperfections of nature. Had it been wounded by a dart or sword, it would not have done (see Lev. xvii. 15) for the food of God's people. See also xxii. 8.

up,

the suffering, no pressure of the cross, led Him to the death; but His life He yielded of Himself. In token of being in full possession of that which He was rendering He cried with a loud voice," and then "gave up the ghost." The history of the moment admits of no other thought; and, I will add, neither should the worshipping affections of the saints. Pilate marvelled that He was dead already; he would not believe it; he had to satisfy himself of it. No time had been passed on the cross sufficient to extort the life, so that the legs of the others had to be broken. But He was dead already. Pilate must make enquiry, and call for the witness, ere he would believe it. The thought we claim is thus the only interpreter of the strict literal history of the fact. And our souls, had we grace, would bless God for such a picture of His slain Lamb, and of our dying, crucified, killed, and murdered Saviour. Do we blot out the record that He was the slain Lamb, or silence the song in heaven which celebrates that mystery, when we say, that His life the slain Lamb rendered up Himself? The history of Calvary, which the Holy Ghost has written, sustains this thought; and again we say, what we claim is the only interpreter of the strict history of the fact. He was free, and yet under commandment. Faith understands it all. And according to this mystery, when the hour had come, as we read, "He bowed the head and gave up the ghost" (John xix. 30). He owned the commandment which He had received, and yet of Himself yielded up His life. He was obedient unto death, and yet laid down His life as of Himself.

Faith understands all this without difficulty-yea, understands that herein alone lies the true and perfect. mystery. He died under covenant counsels, to the which He willingly yielded, being "the Fellow" of the Lord of Hosts.

But, as we have already said to His praise, the Son of God on earth was ever hiding His glory-the form of God, as we have been seeing, under the form of a servant, His glory had been owned in all parts of the dominiors of God. Devils owned it, the bodies and the souls of men owned it, death and the grave owned it, the beasts

of the field and the fish of the sea owned it, winds and waves owned it, and so did the corn and the wine. I may say He Himself was the only One who did not own or assume it; for His way was to veil it. He was "Lord of the harvest," but appeared as one of the labourers in the field; He was the God of the Temple, and the Lord of the Sabbath, but submitted to the challenges of an unbelieving world (Mat. ix. xii).

Such was the veil or the cloud under which He thus again and again causes the glory to retire! And so, in entire fellowship with all this, as we have already said, did He carry Himself on those occasions when His life was threatened. Under despised forms He hid His glory again. At times the favour of the common people shelters Him (Mark xi. 32, xii. 12, Luke xx. 19); at times He withdraws Himself in either an ordinary or a more miraculous manner (Luke iv. 30, John viii. 59, x. 39); at times the enemy is restrained from laying hands on Him, because His hour was not come (John vii. 30, viii. 20); and on one distinguished occasion, as we have seen, a flight into Egypt removes Him from the wrath of a king who sought His life to destroy Him.

In all this I see the one thing from first to last-the Lord of Glory hiding Himself, as one who had come in another's name and not His own. But He was "the Lord of Glory," and "the Prince of life." He was a willing captive, as I have already observed, and so was He at the very last a willing victim. "He gave His life

a ransom for many.

"'d

In other days the Ark of the Lord was in the hands of the enemy; it had been taken captive by the Philistines at the battle of Ebenezer. Then God "delivered His strength into captivity, and His glory into the enemies' hand"; but it was unassailable. It was apparently a weak thing-a thing of wood and gold. Its presence troubled the uncircumcised—their gods, their persons, their lands.

d The Son put Himself under the commandment of the Father, for the ends of God's glory in our salvation (John x. 18, xii. 49) ; and now the Father delivers a commandment to us, to give all divine honour to the Son, or, in other words, to walk in the truth of His person (John v. 23, 1 John iii. 23, 2 John, 4—6).

It was all unaided and alone, and in the midst of enemies who were fresh in the heat and pride of victory. Why, then, did they not break it to pieces? Apparently, to dash it against a stone would have been to destroy it. It was constantly in their way, and appeared to be always at their mercy. Why, then, did they not rid themselves of it? They could not; that is the answer. The Ark among the Philistines was another burning and unconsumed bush. It might appear to be at the mercy of the uncircumcised, but it was unassailable. The Philistines may send it from Ashdod to Gath, and from Gath to Ekron; but no hand can touch it to destroy it (see 1 Sam. iv.-vi).

And so the True Ark, the Son of God in flesh, may be the sport of the uncircumcised for a little season Pilate may send Him to Herod, and Annas to Caiaphas, the multitude may lead Him away to Pilate, and Pilate may give Him up again to the multitude; but His life is beyond their reach. He was the Son of God, and though manifested in flesh, still the Son as from eternity. Whatever sorrows He had gone through, whatever weariness He had endured, or hunger or thirst, all had been filling out "the form of a servant," which He had taken. But He was the Son who had "life in Himself," the unassailable Ark-the Bush, even in the midst of the raging flames of the world's full hatred, unconsumable. Such was the mystery I doubt not.

But, while saying this-while going through the meditations of this paper with some desire of my soul, and, I trust, profit also-there is nothing I would more cherish than to feel as a true Israelite should have felt on the day when the Ark of God returned home out of the land of the Philistines. He should then have rejoiced and worshipped; he should have been very careful to assure himself that this great event had indeed taken place, even though he were living at a distance from the scene. As an Israelite of any of the tribes, this thing deeply concerned him-that the Ark had been rescued, and that the uncircumcised were not still handling it, or sending it hither and thither among their cities. But being satisfied of that, he had to be watchful that he

himself did not touch it or inspect it—that he did not sin against it, like a Bethshemite, even after it had come from among the Philistines.

We are right, I am sure, in refusing those thoughts upon the mortal condition of the blessed Lord's body. All such words and speculations are as the handling of the Ark with uncircumcised or Philistine hands. And we are to show the error of the thought itself, as well as its irreverence; that is, we are to be satisfied only with the full deliverance of the Ark, and its return to us. But then, another duty becomes us-we are not to handle it, or inspect it, as though it were ordinary. Our words are to be few; for in the multitude of words, on such a matter, "there wanteth not sin." Physical considerations of such a subject are not to be indulged, even though they may be sound and not to be gainsayed; for such considerations are not the way of the Spirit, or of the wisdom of God. The Lord's body was a temple, and it is written," Ye shall reverence my sanctuary; I am

the Lord."

If one were to refuse to follow these speculations, and instead of answering them to rebuke them, I could say nothing. It might be with many a soul a holy sensitive refusal to meddle beyond one's measure, and the standard of Scripture with what must ever be beyond us. I remember the words-" Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest thou also be like unto him." But these speculations on the person of the Son of God began in other quarters. The Ark got into uncircumcised hands -and this word which I have taken on me to write is an endeavour to recover it thence-and what I would indeed desire, is to take it down from "the new cart" with the reserve and holiness that become the soul in doing such service.

I will just add, that all this present question is made to profit the soul. A lion's carcase, forbidding as such an object must have been, of old time was forced to yield even honey, delicate as it is, and good for food. St. Paul had to do the forbidding work of vindicating the doctrine of resurrection in the very face of some among