yet condemned as a Malefactor, and after enduring a thousand Infults and Indignities, being buffeted, fpit upon, and fcourged, was led out at laft to fuffer on the Crofs the infamous, painful Death of the vileft Offend

ers.

A

Do we complain that we have been kind to the unthankful, and received Evil for Good? So was the bleffed Jefus treated; be came unto his own and his own received him not, rejected even by thofe whom he came to fave, and rewarded for his Kindnefs with the Death of the vileft Slaves. Men think it unfufferably hard to have their Good evil Spoken of, to be blamed and reviled when they have behaved irreproachably. But fo was our great Lord and Master before us reviled, yet not reviling again, when he suffered be threatened not, but committed himself to him who judgeth righteously. Little Reafon have finful Creatures to repine, and be impatient under the Afflictions of Life, if we confider that the Redeemer of our Souls tafted of the fame unpleasant Cup, and hath drunk the

Dregs

Dregs of this bitter Potion. All the Grief of a Man afflicted, all the Terrors of one broken in Heart he became a Prey to in the fatal Garden, where he was betrayed to his Enemies.

What a Tempeft of conflicting Paffions did then vex his Soul? How is he the Sport of Misery, distreffed betwixt the Love of his Duty, and the Agony of performing it? You would think him unable to reft in any Pofture: One while he is ftretched on the Ground, then rifing in a fudden Start of Agony Agitated with fuch a Variety of convulfing Paffions he yet pours forth his Soul in Refignation,---Father, if this Cup cannot pass from me, except I drink it, thy Will be done.

Alas! what an Aggravation was it of his Diftrefs, when he forefaw the dreadful Hour of God's Wrath, when the Extremity of his Suffering would force that bitter Exclamation,---My God, my God, why haft thou for

་

faken

faken me! The big Grief overpowers him, and bursts out at every Pore, His Sweat is

as it were great Drops of Blood falling down to the Ground.

To fome it has been Matter of Offence and Cavil, that fo much Difconfolation should appear in our Saviour as his Suffert ings drew nigh. Many Perfons of no Eminence in Virtue, or Diftinction in Life, have met Death in it's worft Forms of Terror, not only with Intrepidity, but with Chearfulness. But Obedience is then surely most perfect when the Temptations that oppose it are the strongest. Natural Courage is not a moral, but a merely conftitutional Quality. And Nothing fhews the abfolute Distress and Refignation of our bleffed Lord so advantageously as---his Temper foft and fufceptible, and liable to ftrong Impreffions of Fear, his extreme Senfibility of the Agonies of dying, and yet his willing Submission to a - Death of the greatest Terror and Torture.

He

He gave indeed his Life a Ranfom for all But how many would reject the Offer of his Blood, turn the grace of God into Lafciviousnefs, and perish in defiance of God's Goodnefs? And this undoubtedly was a grievous Addition to the Bitterness of Death, to foresee all that Wickedness, which would infallibly precipitate those whom he loved more than his own Life into devouring Flames.

yet

Great Reafon had he therefore to cry out-My Soul is exceeding forrowful, even anto Death. How many mad, miferable Creatures will die in contempt of my Blood, die for infamous Pleasures, that will put me again to an open Shame? How many will prefer Drunkenness to everlafting Joys, love this World more than Heaven and Happinefs, and feek the Pleafures and Splendours of Life more than the Kingdom of God and bis Righteoufnefs? Behold a Chriftian wiping off the Water of his Baptifm, and renounc

ing

ing his Saviour for a Song, for a little Gain, for the malignant Pleasure of Revenge. See how Men ftab their Redeemer to the Heart by Oaths and Curfes, and crucify their bleffed Lord afresh by Murders, by Poisonings, by: Wars and Defolations, by all the Arts of Deftruction, that can make this World a Theatre of Mifery, and one univerfal Field of Blood.

A good Man cannot think over fuch a Scene of Horrors without melting with Compaffion: Much lefs could the best of Men, even the Man Christ Jefus, our great and most affectionate Friend, who loves us much better than we do ourselves. In that difmal^ Hour, and the Power of Darkness, when he was betrayed, infulted, arrayed in mock Majefty, and crowned with Thorns, nailed at length to the Crofs, and expiring under the Agonies of that cruel Death, what added no doubt, to the Intenfenefs of his Sufferings, and stuck the Dagger deeper into his Heart, was the prefent View of all the paft and fu

tyre