and helping on the good cause in every way in which opportunity was afforded. Here, also, he was appointed to the office of Class-Leader, and to its duties he diligently devoted himself.

James took a deep interest in the Wesleyan Missions: monthly he purchased the Notices, and read them with tears and many prayers; and always contributed, likewise, according to his means. About a year before he died, he called on the Superintendent of the Circuit, and, after a flood of tears, said, "I and my wife sat up most of the last night reading the Missionary Notices, and we are distressed to find that the Committee cannot do all the good they wish for want of funds. The Missionaries in the West Indies are dying with excessive labour, and the people are left as sheep without a shepherd. What can be done? My wife and I have resolved to give half a sovereign extra." Laying down the money, he begged it might be sent to the Committee, saying, "The Missionaries must not die." This was at a time when they were subsisting on an annuity of ten shillings per week. Thus, “in a great trial of affliction, the abundance of their joy and their deep poverty abounded to the riches of their liberality."

The secret of the consistency and strength of James's piety may be traced to the simplicity of his faith, the ardour of his devotion, and the constancy with which he attended the means of grace. He has been known to shut himself up in his workshop, and for a whole hour pour out his heart before God. On the Sabbath, at every service, on the week-day evenings, at the preaching, and at prayer-meetings, whoever was absent, James was present. His simple but affecting tale, at the lovefeasts, will long be remembered by those who were privileged to hear it.

Deep humility was his evident characteristic: there was no selfcomplacency, no boasting, no despising of others. Often he expressed a fear that his unworthiness would shut him out of the heavenly society; but ere he had proceeded far in the statement of his sorrows, faith triumphed, and he wept for joy. For some months before he died, he was prevented, by weakness, from attending the means of grace; but when visited, he was found calmly waiting for his expected change. His spirit was lowly and mild; but he was happy. A short time previous to his departure, his wife asked him if he were comfortable. He replied, "O yes, I am comfortable, I am happy; for I am upon the Rock." He thus died, as he long had lived, to the Lord. JOHN WALSH.

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10. Died, December 19th, at Stevenage, in the Biggleswade Circuit, Mr. George Mackiness. His parents were themselves pious, and endeavoured conscientiously to train him in the way he should go. From his childhood, his mind not only possessed true light, but he was in a measure influenced by it, so that as he grew up he was preserved from conduct directly criminal. But this was all. The carnal mind, which is enmity against God, so far prevailed, that his parents often sorrowed that all their efforts to bring him to personal godliness seemed to be in vain, and that he continued to live as not having the saving knowledge of God. In 1829, however, the change for which they long laboured and prayed, took place. He had continued to attend the ministry to which he had been accustomed from his very infancy; and under a sermon preached by the Rev. John Bell, then stationed at Biggleswade, he was thoroughly awakened, not only to a

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clear view of his conduct as a sinner, but to a painful consciousness of his guilt and danger. He remembered the advantages with which he had been favoured, and saw that he had not improved them. The gracious visitations which had so often impressed his mind, but which he had so long resisted, were recalled to his recollection. He felt that this greatly aggravated his guilt, that he had thus lived, sinning against light, and grieving the Holy Spirit. His convictions were very deep he drank of the wormwood and the gall, and so regarded his past life as almost to despair of mercy. He felt, as it were, a hell within himself, and the awful temptation was suggested, that strangling would be better than life. But he resolved to struggle with these guilty fears, and earnestly to seek, if haply he might find, pardon and peace. He did not seek in vain. Praying in Christ's name, (for he well knew that of himself he deserved nothing but condemnation and wrath,) he was heard and answered; so that being justified by faith, and adopted into the divine family, he had peace with God, and could cry, with humble confidence, "Abba, Father;" and thus he became a

new creature.

The religion about which he had been worse than careless, was henceforth his glory and chief joy. His faith wrought by love, and purified his soul. No one who knew him could doubt but that with him religion was a blessed reality; and he was careful in seeking its preservation and increase. He had joined the Wesleyan society, and diligently attended all the means of grace which its arrangements secure to its members. He was truly a spiritually-minded man. Wherever he went, in the way of his ordinary calling, his Bible and Hymn-book were always his companions. Religion, in fact, was his chief and every-day business. He had a benevolent heart, and desired the welfare of all, to the very ends of the earth; but he especially cared for "them of his own house." For the salvation of his family he earnestly prayed, remembering the unceasing prayers which had been addressed to the throne of grace for himself. His strong love for souls inclined him to consent to be employed, as he said, " as a humble Exhorter, seeking to persuade sinners to turn to God through the Lord Jesus Christ;" but he could not be persuaded to become a regular Local Preacher. With all his affection and zeal, he was truly humble. This was visible in his whole character, and all that he did. He seemed never to be thinking of himself, and was always ready to yield superiority to others. His disposition was amiable, and he was remarkable for the kindness and evenness of his temper. Occasionally he had to pass through painful trials; but he was a firm believer in divine Providence; and in all things, whatever the instrument might be, he acknowledged the hand of God. His last illness was short, and his death truly happy. He was much affected by the sudden death of a beloved son, and, while standing by the grave, was seized with the disorder which so soon proved fatal. He expressed himself as being in a calm frame, but wishing for yet stronger faith. The disease was violent, and produced frequent unconsciousness of surrounding objects. When this was not the case, it was evident that his inward peace was complete. After being thus, for a time, insensible, he suddenly revived, and, lifting up his hand, exclaimed thrice, very distinctly, "All is well. Happy, happy, happy!" He then almost immediately expired. J. CHEESWRIGHT.

DIVINITY.

MESSIAH'S HUMILIATION AND TRIUMPH :

A SERMON:

BY THE REV. SAMUEL DUNN.

"He shall drink of the brook in the way: therefore shall he lift up the head."Psalm cx. 7.

THE precise application of this Psalm is easily determined. In the New Testament it is frequently quoted, and directly applied to our Saviour, Jesus Christ. David in spirit calls him "Lord." He sits at the right hand of Jehovah. He reigns as a conqueror in Zion. He has an everlasting priesthood. He sways the sceptre of universal dominion. He is tremendous in his battles, victories, and judgments. He sets his foot on the necks of his enemies. He is surrounded by noble, willing, happy subjects, who are arrayed in the splendid garments of holiness, and as numerous as the drops of dew in the morning.

The text informs us of the means by which he has attained to this lofty elevation: not by the mere arm of Omnipotence, but by suffering. His triumph is the result, the reward of his passion.

Waters in Scripture frequently signify afflictions. To drink of such waters is to endure afflictions. The word here rendered "brook," is

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in other places rendered " "river," flood," ""torrent." The passage, therefore, strikingly brings before us Messiah's humiliation and triumph.

First. MESSIAH'S HUMILIATION. the way."

"He shall drink of the brook in

This act of our divine Redeemer was,

1. Unparalleled. He had to stoop from the highest throne in heaven to this dark vale of tears; to veil the coruscations of his glory, and to shroud himself in our frail humanity, before he could get at the brook. And he did not refuse: "Though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor." "Who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: but made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men." He was subject to hunger and thirst, to cold and weariness. He had soon to drink of the bitter waters of envy and jealousy, of suspicion and misrepresentation, of ingratitude and insult, of denial and treachery. He was seized, buffeted, scourged, spat upon, crowned with thorns, unrighteously condemned, cruelly crucified. It took him thirty-three years to pass the brook. His whole life, from the manger to the cross, was one continued scene of suffering. He was a man of sorrow, and acquainted with grief. He was grieved at the hardness of the people's hearts. He wept over Jerusalem. His was travail of soul: his bodily were but faint pictures of his mental sufferings. The mere reading of what some of the martyrs endured, fills us with anguish. But when we lift the veil, we cease to wonder at the steady step with which they went to the

VOL. III.-FOURTH SERIES.

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stake, at the songs of rapture they poured forth amid thick volumes of smoke. They were irradiated with the light of God's countenance, were specially strengthened by grace divine. But the brook at which the Saviour drank was one of unmitigated suffering. Heaven, earth, and hell combined to accumulate his woes, to embitter his draught. The powers of darkness assailed him. Malicious, barbarous men exhausted their ingenuity in augmenting his pangs. But most intolerable of all was the hiding of his Father's face. This extorted the most plaintive and heart-rending exclamation. It was more than a "cup" he had to drink. It was a flood of miseries; deep, dark, muddy, and troubled waters. His sufferings were overwhelmingly severe, intensely keen, dreadfully excruciating. They challenge the universe to produce any sufferings like them,-incomprehensible, unutterable, unknown. Messiah's drinking of the brook was,

2. Appointed. It was a brook "in the way:" placed intentionally in the way that he would have to pass; placed there by infinite wisdom, boundless goodness, inflexible justice, unspotted holiness, and immutable faithfulness. Every attribute of Deity would have forbidden Christ's exaltation in our nature, until he had drunk the brook of suffering and death. His drinking of this brook was sanctioned by supreme authority. It was of divine appointment. The Father had a direct and holy agency in the sufferings of Christ. Bold men and evil spirits assaulted him; but they could have had no power at all against him, unless it had been given them from above. "I have power," said he, to lay down my life, and power to take it again: this commandment received I of my Father." He gave himself for us according to the will of God. The Father assigned to Christ the whole portion of his sufferings. He foreknew, predetermined, and mixed the bitter ingredients of the brook. He sent him into the world to drink of it. He led him to it. Messiah was stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. "Awake, O sword, against my Shepherd, and against the man that is my fellow, saith the Lord of hosts."

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It even

'pleased the Lord to bruise him, and to put him to grief." Not that the Father could take pleasure, abstractedly considered, in leading his Son to the brook; but, considering how this would illustrate the divine perfections, tend to the honour of Jesus, and to the happiness of mankind, "God spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all."

This act of Christ was,

3. Voluntary. He not only drank by authority, but of his own accord. It would have been an act of the highest injustice to have taken him to the brook without his most perfect concurrence. That he should stoop voluntarily, was an indispensable circumstance in such a proceeding; and he did it. His engagement was the dictate of his spontaneous, unmerited, unsolicited love. His undertaking excited his deepest interest. He early announced, by his Prophets, the ingredients of the brook. He struck off types of his sufferings. When the glorious era arrived for the full development of his purposes, he stretched his wings of love, bowed the heavens, and came down with rapture, exclaiming, "Lo, I come to do thy will, O God." And this was not a burst of enthusiasm, a momentary emotion. He had time to consider the resolution, to survey the brook, and to calculate the consequences of entering it. And did He for one moment regret his

engagement? Did he allow any object to divert his attention from the scene ? Did he ever hesitate, or vacillate, or relax? Had he to be dragged, like a struggling victim, to the altar? He went deliberately, steadily, cheerfully to the brook. If he did not go voluntarily, why did he go? Where was the craft that could have ensnared him? Where was the might that could have overcome him, had he thought proper to resist? By his calm omnipotence, he could have baffled, paralyzed, and destroyed his foes. It was with the most perfect spontaneity then that he went to the brook. When he saw its troubled waters rising in the distance, he said, "I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how am I straitened till it be accomplished!" When in Galilee, he showed unto his disciples "how that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the Elders and chief Priests and Scribes, and be killed." When Peter expostulated with him, he received the severe rebuke: "Get thee behind me, Satan: thou art an offence unto me; for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men." He told Judas at the supper to go out and do quickly the deed of treachery on which he was bent. To his disciples he said, "For your sakes I devote myself a victim." To the soldiers in the garden, he delivered himself without resistance or complaint. When accused and condemned at the bar of Pilate, he attempted no vindication. "As a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth." There was a fixed and determined idea of self-surrender. He was virtually his own executioner. He did not absolutely delight in suffering; he was not indifferent to pain: but love nerved his purpose; a love which the many waters could not quench, nor the torrent of floods drown; a love that, by its own intense vitality, burned on unquenchable in the very depth of the brook. "Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life."

This act was,

4. Vicarious. He drank of the brook, not on his own, but on our, account. He possessed life in all its fulness, and throughout eternity. He was essentially, absolutely, and immutably holy. There was nothing in him that required, by any process of suffering, to be brought into conformity with the will of God. Had he been guilty of sin, he would have deserved to drink of the brook, and could not have been a substitute for us. But he was without sin, both original and actual, such an one as "became us." We had violated the law of God, and were justly exposed to the tremendous penalty,-everlasting death. We could make no atonement for our transgressions. Obedience to the law was out of the question: we had neither the ability nor the inclination to perform it. And even were we now to render it, present for past can never atone. All suffering is the effect of sin, and therefore can never "put it away." "Repentance is no requisition of the law, and so can be no satisfaction to it. But God is essentially holy, and must abhor sin he is the very essence of justice, and must necessarily punish sin. We must, therefore, endure the penalty, unless some other able, and as willing, pay the rigid satisfaction, death for death." The Socinian indeed asserts, that vicarious atonement is contrary to reason, and therefore impossible; that no man can suffer except for his own sins, or be rescued unless he himself make the atonement. But is this correct? Do we not see vicarious interference in Providence? Do not children often become wise, wealthy, holy,