or opposition, but in the one solitary moment of triumph which the King of Glory, when He came amongst us, was permitted to enjoy. Our Lord had, if we may say so, one moment of decided popularity; there was one little. brief space of time when His own seemed to receive Him, when the "daughter of Zion shouted," when the "daughter of Jerusalem rejoiced greatly," and that was when as the prophet had foretold-"her King came unto her, lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt, the foal of an ass."

It was on the day of His entry into Jerusalem, when the whole multitude of the disciples were "praising God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen;" when the people were meeting Him with branches of palms, and the shouts of Hosanna from the little ones pursued Him even into the sacred precincts of the temple; it was then, as He was nearing the city on the Bethany road, that He came to a particular part of the road, quite distinct from the first descent which St. Luke had spoken of; at this part modern travellers tell us that there is a sudden turn at which the whole city, in all its glory and beauty (glorious and beautiful even now in its desolation), bursts upon the eye. Here, doubtless, on the very spot where He would "behold" the city, the Son of Man paused. He heeded not the shouts, the Hosannas, the path strewed with

garments, the waving of the palms. He heeded not these, for He knew the hearts of those who shouted. He heeded them not, for He saw before Him not the present but the future-the future of crime and vengeance growing darker and darker: and He wept. In the midst of His one triumph He wept. Oh, my brethren, what a lesson that we should not look at the outside of things; that, in the moment of our petty triumphs and successes, we should fear; that we should apply a very different standard wherewith to measure success to the standard which the world furnishes, for it was not by the shouts of these multitudes that the Lord conquered. It was by enduring shame, and spitting and reviling-by the grave and gate of death-by being "lifted up "-that He began to draw all men unto Himself.

And now we come to a very deep thing indeed, connected with this weeping of Christ over Jerusalem; perhaps the deepest thing in the whole word of God.

We hold, and rightly, that He Who thus wept over Jerusalem had power over the hearts of all, just as He had power over their bodies. We read perpetually, all through the Gospels, of the power He exercised for good over the bodies of His fellow men. We read of His power over their souls. I do not allude in this to His casting out of devils, or restoring lunatics to their reason; but I allude to the fact that on

one occasion we read of His miraculously opening the understandings of His disciples, "that they should understand the Scriptures." Now He who thus wept over the devoted city could in one moment have opened the heart of every soul in it, so that that soul should have "known the things which belong to its peace." He had but to say one word, and He could have re-created, renewed, cleansed every soul in Jerusalem. Why, then, did He weep, when one word would have saved all?

Because the multitudes that thronged the holy city were rational, responsible beings; on their trial, whether they would seek, and serve God. He Who wept over them was about to die for them. He was going up to Jerusalem to suffer a voluntary, life-giving death at their hands. It was not by tears alone that He showed His exceeding love, though it is a marvel of love past thought that the Son of the Eternal God should take to Himself a soul that could feel the bitterness of sorrow, and eyes that could be dimmed with tears. Yes, if we did not know the love of God in dying for us, we should be lost in astonishment that the Creator of all things should so humble Himself as to be in a condition to weep for His creatures.

But He, who wept over the impenitent, did not stop short with weeping. He went up to suffer all that man could inflict, and to shed His Blood for those for whom He wept.

Well, how passing strange, how marvellous, how confounding is it that He Who so loved, and was so almighty in His love, should yet stay His illuminating, His converting power; that He should weep over Jerusalem, that He should die for her, and yet that her children, except a remnant, should not be gathered.

Passing strange it is, but it is the mystery of our existence.

By the very first law of our existence, as free, intelligent creatures, having free wills, we must be proved, and we must choose-we must choose between good and evil. God may assist us in choosing good, i. e., in choosing Himself: He may help us to repent: He may convince us of sin, and after we have chosen Him, He may uphold us in our choice; but after all, choose we must. God has laid this upon us, when He made us living souls. He could not have done otherwise, if He is to be served by us with the willing rational service of free men, and not with the mere mechanical service of machines. From a machine we merely require the work which it is made to do. But from a living agent, with a heart capable of love, and a conscience, and the knowledge of right and wrong, we require far more than so much mere work. We require love. We require willing obedience. We look not only to the thing done, but to the spirit with which it is done. It would be intolerable to be

receiving service, ever so well performed, from one who hated us, or was indifferent to us. If we are not ourselves utterly devoid of feeling, we should prefer to have our work done less perfectly by one whose heart was with us, and who served us with a willing service.

Now this willing service, this loving service, which we who cannot read the heart desire to receive from those who serve us, God, above all things, looks for in those whom He has made to serve Him, i. e., from all His creatures, to whom He has given faculties to know Him and love Him, and choose His service.

Reason teaches us that this is, to say the least, most probable, if there be a holy and just God, Who at a glance searches all our hearts through and through; and what reason leads us to surmise, Revelation or the Bible asserts in very express terms.

"Choose ye this day," says one saint, speaking to God's people; "Choose ye this day whom ye will serve." "If the Lord be God," says another ambassador of God, "then follow Him; but if Baal be God, then follow him." The author of the Book of Proverbs speaks of the wretched plight of those who did not choose the fear of the Lord, and asks us in God's name to "give Him our hearts." "My son, give me thine heart." Our Saviour expresses the same power in us to choose God when He invites us, "Come unto me all ye that labour, and are