tuations; it was not eager to obtrude itself where its professions and importunities would be of no avail; but reserved itself for scenes of peculiar difficulty and danger. True it is, that, on the apprehension of our Lord, John, in common with the rest of the disciples, forsook him and fled; but he had not, like Peter, to reproach himself with promises broken and vows unfulfilled: he had not rashly pledged his life as the test of his allegiance, when this trying but unequal conflict should arrive. The timidity of his nature, indeed, was alarmed, and he shrunk with horror from the treacherous and apostate Judas; but when the hurry of the moment had subsided, and calm reason had resumed her sway, he was the first to return to his allegiance, and was probably the only one of the twelve who followed Jesus through the several particulars of his trial; who attended him to the place of execution, and who recognized him as his Lord and Master in the crowd of spectators assembled at the foot of the cross to glut their eyes with his expiring agonies.

"Woman, behold thy son !" said Jesus to his disconsolate mother, when he saw, among the afflicted witnesses of his last sufferings, this faithful and affectionate disciple. "Then said he also to the disciple, Behold thy mother!" These few words, simple and unstudied as they are in the gospel narrative, convey to the mind of the reader one of the most pathetic and interesting scenes which the world ever witnessed. Under circumstances of the most agonizing torments, when it might be thought impossible for human nature to retain any other feeling than that of its own inexpressible sufferings, the Saviour of the world recommends. to the care and protection of his approved friend, in terms of peculiar regard and endearment, the most tender and sacred object of his private affections. And that friend, proud of the rich legacy bequeathed to him, and happy to be thought worthy of executing such a charge, "from that hour takes her to his own home," and performs for her all the tender and endearing offices of true filial love. In this event the amiability of John's character shines forth with a lustre peculiarly its own, and evinces one of the most engaging examples of virtuous friendship ever exhibited to mankind.

Yet his love for the Saviour did not terminate here. Death, which cuts asunder all other ties, only served to strengthen and confirm that sacred affection which he had

always manifested towards Jesus, and from which no reverse of fortune or change of circumstances appeared able to separate him. During the life of Mary, who is said to have survived her son about fifteen years, he continued to reside at Jerusalem, in the faithful discharge of that trust which had been given to him by his departed Lord. Being at length released, however, from this sacred obligation, he industriously applied himself to the diffusion of Christianity, and sustained the character of a public teacher till death put an end to his toils and sufferings, in the ninety-eighth year of his age. But the most lasting monument of that affection which subsisted between him and the blessed Jesus, is to be found in those writings which he bequeathed to posterity, and particularly in that Gospel which forms so important a part in the books of the New Testament. Whoever reads this Gospel, will discover in it traces of a grateful and affectionate heart, which delights to dwell upon the pleasing events of a life adorned with every virtue, and free even from those little failings which appear occasionally in the most perfect of human beings. The other Gospels, indeed, are full of interesting matter; and, as each was composed with some particular view, they have all, doubtless, their respective merits and uses. It need not be concealed, however, that John's narrative has far greater claims to simplicity of style and manner than the other three, and that, with regard to the facts which it preserves and the conversations which it recites, it justly claims the preference. Witness, among other things, the testimony of the Baptist concerning Jesus; the interview of Nicodemus with our Lord; the conversation with the woman of Samaria; the cure of the nobleman's son at Capernaum, and of the impotent man at the pool of Bethesda; the story of the woman taken in adultery; the account of the man who had been blind from his birth, and whom Jesus healed by a miracle; the parable of the good shepherd, and of the true vine; the resurrection of Lazarus; the consolatory address of Jesus to his disciples; the prayer for their union and happiness; the promise of the Comforter; and the affecting interview with Peter, in which he is delicately and beautifully reminded of his three-fold denial, and urged, as it were, to resume the office of Christian instructor, which, from his late fickleness, he appeared on the eve of abandoning. These are the recollections of a mind intimately acquainted with the facts which it relates, and deeply impressed with

the temper and spirit of the holy Jesus. The incidents are so beautiful in themselves, and the language so truly simple and unaffected, that they make their way instantly to the heart; and the eye of the attentive reader may discover in them numberless inimitable touches, which could have proceeded from no hand but that of a beloved disciple.

Jesus had many disciples, and all who embraced his doctrines from examination and a conviction of their truth, were unquestionably entitled to some portion of his love and confidence. But all were not admitted to share the important secrets of his breast. From the nature of his office, he was compelled to associate with many for whom, perhaps, he never felt the slightest personal attachment. The variety of disposition and temper which he had to encounter in those whom he admitted among the number of his apostles, made it necessary for him to discriminate and select, as circumstances occurred to develop their respective characters. Peter was soon known; and it required but little insight into human nature to perceive that the warmth of his professions would not always be attended by a corresponding degree of vigour in his actions. Judas was subtle and artful, and had from the beginning too much disguise about him to be admitted at once into the full confidence of his friendship. Matthew, who had been a taxgatherer before his call to the apostleship, and who appears to have conducted himself honourably and justly in his profession, was doubtless a character in many respects highly worthy of esteem, though probably deficient in those amiable and endearing qualities which were necessary to excite the sympathy and affection of Jesus. But in John we perceive a mind essentially distinct from any of these; possessing all that unaffected simplicity and true generosity of feeling by which hearts are attached to each other. The circumstance, however, which particularly interests us in the life of this eminent apostle, is the simplicity of temper and disposition which existed between him and Jesus, and which gave him so rational and obvious a claim to the title by which he is now usually distinguished. The humility of his demeanour, the mildness of his spirit, and the generous benevolence which shone so brightly throughout the whole of his character, laid the foundation of that preference which he enjoyed in the affections of our Saviour.

Text-JOHN xix. 25—27.

THE SERMON.

CLOSED was the preacher's last appeal,
The worshippers were gone,

Though some still lingered here and there
Round many a sod and stone,

When

66

up

there ran a little lad,Sir, is the sermon done?"

"The preacher's words," replied the man,
"Are ended, it is true;

But those great duties he has taught
Demand attention too:

And so the sermon is not done,

But it is all to do.

"'Tis easy one short Sabbath hour
To hear of wisdom's way,

To listen to the will of God,

And mark what preachers say;
But this is hard, throughout the week,
To practise and obey.

"Then will the sermon, boy, be done,

When evil is abhorred,

God not alone on this his day,

But every hour, adored,
And piety makes every place
A temple to the Lord."

THE VINE.

THOUGH this country has undoubtedly many striking advantages over others, yet, on a comparison, we shall find that, in many respects, the productions of other climes are far beyond our own. Our mountains are not so high, nor our rivers so broad, as those of foreign lands. The largest of our animals are small, compared with the cameleopard in height, and the elephant in bulk; and our thickest and tallest trees must not be named with the gigantic productions of other countries. The same remark may be extended to our fruits, both in respect to their quality and abundance; but especially have the vines of other climes an advantage over ours. Beautiful is the vine of England

in the hot-houses of those who cultivate it; and still more beautiful to our eyes when, circling round the poor man's cottage, it adorns it with its rich foliage and unnumbered branches of delicious fruit. Yet, after all, both the one and the other can afford us but a faint conception of the vine of hotter climes, in all its clustering glory.

The various kinds of wine which are produced from this most valuable of creeping trees, sufficiently proclaim its worth. Its stem, though it usually has a withered and husky appearance, is woody and tough; and its long trailing branches, stretching far and wide, are adorned with foliage of the wildest luxuriance and beauty, as well as with fruit of the most delicious flavour; the flowers are small, green, and very fragrant, and the fruit usually of an oval form.

When the vine grows out of low and damp soil, its fruit rarely ripens: an elevated and dry earth is what it flourishes in with the greatest luxuriance. Among the ancient Jews, the vine was esteemed as the noblest of plants, and as a type of excellence, power and fruitfulness: and the Jewish nation was compared by the prophets to a vine, planted, watered and preserved by the Lord of hosts. "Thou hast brought a vine out of Egypt: thou hast cast out the heathen, and planted it. Thou preparedst room before it, and didst cause it to take deep root, and it filled the land. The hills were covered with the shadow of it, and the boughs thereof were like the goodly cedars" (Ps. lxxx. 8, 9). The grapes of Egypt were very small; no wonder, then, that the Israelites should be filled with surprise at the large bunch of grapes which the spies brought from the valley of Eschol.

In England, we seldom see vines growing in any other than a solitary manner. One, perhaps, at the front of the cottage to the south; and another on the side to the west, to catch the beams of the setting sun; but, among the Jews, the vineyards were large. A thousand vines constituted a good vineyard, and these were valued at a thousand pieces of silver. The vintage did not take place till the wheat had been gathered into the garner; then the goodly clusters of ripe grapes were severed with a sickle from the trees where they grew, and put into baskets to be carried to the wine-press, to have the juice pressed out. The time of vintage was always a season of festivity, and the Jews were commanded to leave grapes hanging on the