THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR.

I.

THE DESPISED FRIEND.

"We esteemed him not."—Isa. liii. 3.

Ir would not be easy for some of us to recall the hour when we first heard the name of Jesus. In very infancy that sweet sound was as familiar to our ear as the hush of lullaby. Our earliest recollections are associated with the house of God, the family altar, the Holy Bible, the sacred song, and the fervent prayer. Like young Samuels, we were lighted to our rest by the lamps of the sanctuary, and were awakened by the sound of the morning hymn. Many a time has the man of God, whom a parent's hospitality has entertained, implored a blessing on our head, desiring in all sincerity that we might early call the Redeemer blessed; and to his petition a mother's earnest "Amen" has solemnly responded. Ours were happy portions

and goodly heritages; but nevertheless, being "born in sin, and shapen in iniquity," these heavenly privileges did not of themselves avail to give us love to Jesus, and pardon by his blood.

We are often compelled to weep over sins aggravated by light as clear as noonday-ordinances undervalued from their very frequency-warnings despised, although accompanied with tears from a parent's eye and loathings felt in the heart, if not expressed by the lips, to those very blessings which were the rich benisons of heaven. In our own persons we are witnesses to the fact of innate depravity, the birth-plague of man; and we can testify to the doctrine that grace, and grace alone, can change the heart. The words of Isaiah are ours with an emphasis, notwithstanding all the hallowed influences which surrounded us: and in uttering the confession, "we esteemed him not," the haunts. of our childhood, the companions of our youth, and the sins of our manhood, unanimously confirm our truthfulness.

Starting, then, with our own experience, we are led to infer that those who were denied our advantages will certainly be compelled to adopt the same humble language. If the child of pious parents, who by divine power was in youth brought to know the Lord, feels constrained to acknowledge that once he did not esteem the Saviour, shall the man whose education was irreligion, whose childhood

was riot, whose youth was license, and whose maturity was crime, be able to adopt language less humiliating? No; we believe that all men of this class, who are now redeemed from the hand of the enemy, will readily acknowledge that they were the blind neglecters of the beauties of our glorious Emmanuel. Aye, more, we venture to challenge the "Church of the first-born" to produce a single saint who did not once pass by the cross with indifference, if not contempt.

Whether we review the "noble army of martyrs," "the goodly fellowship of the prophets," "the glorious company of the apostles," or "the holy Church throughout all the world," we shall not discover a single lover of the adorable Redeemer who will not join the general confession, "We esteemed him not."

Pause, attentive reader, and ask thyself whether thou dost esteem him now; for possibly it may happen that thou hast not as yet seen in him any "beauty that thou shouldest desire him," nor canst thou subscribe to the exclamation of the spouse, "Yea, he is altogether lovely." Should this be thine unhappy condition, a meditation thereon may, under the Holy Spirit's influence, be of much use to thee; and I beseech thee, while we unfold the secrets of what was once our prison-house, be thou intensely anxious that by any means thou also mayest escape a bondage which deprives thee of joy

here, and will shut thee out from bliss hereafter.

We propose to endeavour first of all to bring the fact of our light estimation of Jesus vividly before our eye; then, secondly, we will discuss the causes of this folly; and, thirdly, seek to excite emotions proper to such a mournful contemplation.

I. Let us go to the potter's house, and view the unshapen clay which we once were; let us remember "the rock whence we were hewn," and the "hole of the pit from which we were digged," that we may with deeper feeling repeat the text, "We esteemed him not." Let us here seriously peruse the diary of memory, for there the witnesses of our guilt have faithfully recorded their names.

We pause, and consider first our overt acts of sin, for these lie like immense boulders on the sides of the hill of life, sure testifiers to the rock within.

Few men would dare to read their own autobiography, if all their deeds were recorded in it; few can look back upon their entire career without a blush. "We have all sinned and come short of his glory." None of us can lay claim to perfection. True, at times a forgetful self-complacency bids us exult in the virtue of our lives; but when faithful memory awakes, how instantly she dispels the illusion? She waves her magic wand, and in the king's palace, frogs arise in multitudes; the pure

rivers at her glance become blood; the whole land is creeping with loathsomeness. Where we imagined purity, lo, imperfection ariseth. The snowwreath of satisfaction melts before the sun of truth; the nectared bowl of gratulation is embittered by sad remembrances; while, under the glass of honesty, the deformities and irregularities of a life apparently correct are rendered, alas! too visible.

Let the Christian, whose hair is whitened by the sunlight of heaven, tell his life-long story. He may have been one of the most upright and moral, but there will be one dark spot in his history, upon which he will shed the tear of penitence, because then he knew not the fear of the Lord. Let yon heroic warrior of Jesus recount his deeds; but he too points to deep scars, the offspring of wounds received in the service of the Evil One. Some amongst our chosen men, in their days of unregeneracy, were notorious for guilt, and could well write with Bunyan*-"As for my own natural life, for the time that I was without God in the world, it was, indeed, according to the course of this world and the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience (Eph. ii. 2, 3). It was my delight to be taken captive by the devil at his will (2 Tim. ii. 26), being filled with all unrighteousness; the

* Grace Abounding.