divine beatitude, in all its infinite perfection, from the throne of heaven to the manger of Bethlehem, and from the manger of Bethlehem to the tomb of Joseph. Had the throes and spasms by which salvation was earned touched not the ethereal essence of the incarnate God; had his Godhead continued as blissful on earth as it had ever been in heaven; had the expiatory agonies devolved exclusively on his terrestrial adjunct, the uncreated, the eternal Son would have been the spared, and not the unspared of his Father. It would have been only the human son of Mary whom the infinite Father "spared not." Yet the declaration that the devoted victim was "spared not," rendered, by the very simplicity of its terms, lucid as the sunbeam, is applied by the Holy Ghost directly to the Father's "own Son ;" and, by necessary inference, to his "only-begotten Son;" to his Son "who came down from heaven;" to his Son who was "sent" "into the world."

It was when the infinite Father inflicted on the divine spirit of "his own," "his only-begotten Son," made a voluntary curse for those he came to save, "the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God," that the tremendous declaration of the Holy Ghost was accomplished. The Father "spared not his own Son." True, that Son had been the fellow of his everlasting reign, with whom he had

taken "sweet counsel" ere time was known, yet the Father spared him not. True, the paternal heart yearned with throes, to which the silent, though deep emotions of the faithful Abraham were but as the finite to the infinite, yet the Father "spared not his own Son." True, the angelic hosts, if permitted to behold the appalling spectacle, must have cast their dismayed, their deprecatory, their beseeching eyes now on the descending arm, now on the stern, though still benignant face of the Ancient of Days, yet the infinite Father spared not his own infinite Son. True, the uncomplaining, the submissive, the unoffending Son," brought as a lamb to the slaughter," presented, in his own meek and gentle form, an appeal to parental sympathy, almost enough to make even divine justice "break its sword," yet the Father spared him not. This was indeed the magnanimity of a God! This "became Him for whom are all things, and by whom are all things!" It became the First who bears "record in heaven;" it became the august Ancient of Days; it became the infinite Father. This was the sublime mode, devised in the conclave of the Godhead, for "bringing many sons unto glory."-Hebrews, ii., 10. The sacrifice was not delusive; the Holy Trinity never delude. It was an awful reality, not an Oriental metaphor.

The prevailing theory, that Christ suffered only

in his humanity, must sink, as the stone sinks in the deep, under the overwhelming weight of the passage from Romans, unless its advocates can, by their interpretation, so amend that part of Holy Writ as to make it read thus: God spared not the human nature of his own Son! But at such an interpolation of the word of God the devout advocates of the prevalent theory would themselves stand appalled.

CHAPTER XIII.

Dismay and Perturbation of Christ before and during last PassionHis Apprehensions and Conduct contrasted with Human Martyrs, and Persons not Martyrs-Phenomenon not explicable on Supposition that Humanity alone suffered-Reasons commonly assigned for his Dismay and Perturbation, and Fallacy of such Reasons.

THE dismay with which Christ beheld his coming sufferings, and the perturbation which their endurance caused him, can only be explained on the supposition that the sufferings were not confined to his human nature. Had the primitive Christian martyrs exhibited the same dismay and perturbation at the approach of death, one of the chief arguments in favour of the truth of our holy religion would have been lost to the world. The patience, fortitude, and triumph with which they met and endured the excruciating agonies of martyrdom ranked high among the miracles by which early Christianity was propagated. "See how a Christian can die !" is an appeal to infidelity not of modern origin. Its thrilling effect was well known and felt in the early Church. The triumphant death of the first martyrs was among the most eloquent of the addresses ever made by Christianity to the pagan world. It was a miracle, per

haps, more touching to the heart than the healing of the sick or the raising of the dead.

The corporeal sufferings of many of the early martyrs were, doubtless, greater than the corporeal sufferings of their Master. His was the case, so far as the body was concerned, of simple crucifixion. They were stoned to death with stones; they were consumed by slow fires; their flesh was torn off with red-hot pincers; they were sawed asunder with saws; they were drawn to pieces by wild beasts; the cross was, indeed, often the instrument of their death, but to them was not allowed the comparative repose of simple crucifixion. Its abhorrence of the rising and hated sect of the Nazarenes had sharpened the devices of heathen cruelty; new discoveries were made in the art of tormenting; new and more agonizing positions of the suffering body were contrived; the process of torture was rendered more slow, and the welcomed approach of death more lingering. To all this variety of agonies, the timid frailty of woman, as well as the bolder hardihood of man, was almost daily subjected. But nothing could disturb the patience, the fortitude, the serenity of the primitive martyrs. Whether belonging to the more robust or the more tender sex, they yielded not for a moment to the recoilings or misgivings of human frailty; they rejoiced in the

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