have already been assigned, surpassed, beyond comparison, in real majesty, the pompous car of state in which the latter was conveyed. The triumph of Æmilius was graced with the spoils of the vanquished enemy, followed by a succession of royal captives, exemplifying, in their persons, the transitoriness and instability of worldly greatness. That of Jesus was decorated with the trophies of his victories over the powers of darkness, which were to be recognized in the persons of those from whom he had cast out devils, who assuredly would not fail to attend him on an occasion like the present; and who, by the testimonies which they bore to his past exploits, might be regarded as preludes to that more signal overthrow of the infernal tyrant, which he achieved by his death,— and for which he was honored with a still more distinguished triumph by his resurrection from the tomb; when, in the language of the Apostle, "spoiling the principalities and powers, he made a shew of them, confidently triumphing openly over them in himself." (COLoss. c. ii. v. 15.) The ostentatious march of the conqueror of Macedon to the Roman capital, was celebrated with songs of praise, chaunted by the voices of his victorious followers. The humble approach of the conqueror of hell to the Jewish metropolis, had been proclaimed by the voice of Heaven itself, in the inspired strain of the prophet, when he exclaimed: 'Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion, shout for joy, O daughter of Jerusalem, behold thy king

66

cometh to thee, the just and Saviour." In the one, oxen crowned with garlands, and destined to be immolated, with unavailing pomp, to an imaginary divinity, were led by youths girded with belts of curious workmanship. In the other, a victim of infinite value, even Jesus himself, prepared to be offered to the living God, as an atonement for the sins of a guilty world, advanced spontaneously towards the altar of sacrifice, about to be crimsoned with his precious blood. Who does not perceive how prodigiously the former of these triumphal processions was, in real dignity, interest and worth, exceeded by the latter. Yes, if the triumph of Æmilius was that of a hero, the triumph of Jesus was that of a God.

The entrance of our blessed Saviour into Jerusalem, which terminated the procession recorded in the Gospel, may be considered as an emblem of that which he is prepared to make into the souls of his faithful followers, at the approaching solemnity. And the words in which the prophet announced to the children of Israel the first of these events, the ministers of the Gospel may, with propriety, apply to the second :-" Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Sion, shout for joy, O daughter of Jerusalem, behold thy king cometh to thee, the just and Saviour." Yes, Christian souls, ye highly favored daughters of the heavenly Sion, daughters elect of the "Jerusalem that is above," for so you may be justly called, "being regenerated,” as, in the language of St. Peter, you

66

are, "by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, unto an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, that cannot fade, reserved in heaven for you." (1 PET. c. i. v. 3, 4.) Yes, then, I say, Christian souls, rejoice and exult. For behold your king cometh to you, the just and Saviour. Yes, he comes to you in a form not less characteristic of his condescension and meekness, than was the lowliness of demeanour which marked his entrance into Jerusalem, as described by the Evangelist. He comes divested of the splendour of his divinity, that he may accommodate himself to the weakness of your humanity. He comes, in short, veiled with the sacramental semblance of ordinary food, as expressive of his gracious and affectionate design of nourishing your souls unto everlasting life. Yet let not that homely and familiar guise, which, on your account, he has condescended to assume, prevent you from recognizing his august presence. For you are explicitly assured, by himself in person, that beneath that homely and familiar guise, he is actually present; and if you listen attentively with the ears of faith, you will hear distinctly the accents of his voice, addressing you in terms, which he is stated by St. John, to have formerly used to the Jews at Capharnaum: "I am the living bread which came down from heaven, if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever." (JOHN, c. vi. v. 51, 52.) Not only does he advance towards you in a form at once the most humble and inviting, but as before expounded in his entrance into Jeru

salem, he also comes laden with the rich spoils of the vanquished enemy. The spoils to which I allude are your transgressions cancelled, on your repentance, by the application to your souls of the infinite merits of his death upon the cross. He comes amidst hosannas of angelic spirits, who, though invisible to the human eye, may be rendered visible to the eye of faith. And finally, he comes furnishing you with an offering acceptable beyond every other to the majesty of heaven, and qualified by its influence to draw down upon you its choicest blessings.

What excessive condescension, my friends, is this on the part of the eternal Son of the Most High! And what conceivable object could he have in view in consenting to submit to it? If, in the mystery of his incarnation, "he debased himself taking the form of a servant," we also discover, in the magnitude of the effect, which was nothing less than a satisfactory atonement to divine justice for the sins of mankind, a corresponding purpose. But what could induce him to assume the form in which he presents himself to us in the sacrament of the altar? What could induce him to become our food, to nourish us with the substance of his own flesh, to incorporate himself with us, and thus to become, in a manner, consubstantial with us? Oh! my friends, this indeed must be acknowledged to be a most stupendous act of condescension on the part of the Son of God. Stupendous, however, as it is, and entirely

unmerited on our part, I do not hesitate to say that it is well warranted by the importance of the object proposed to be attained. And what is that? Why, my friends, it is nothing less than the elevation of human nature to a participation of the divine,―to a participation, that is to say, of a nature endued with such godlike capacities, dispositions and inclinations, as are requisite to qualify it for the enjoyment of those pure and sublime delights which constitute the happiness of the blessed in God's heavenly kingdom.

Now, although, in the present childhood of our existence, that perfection of the divine nature is not to be expected, which corresponds with the enjoyment of things, "which eye hath not seen, which ear hath not heard, and which it hath not entered into the heart of man to conceive," yet the elementary principles and rudiments of it, if I may so say, together with the means of their progressive developement, and ultimate maturity, are to be acquired in the school of Jesus Christ. "When I was a child," says the Apostle, "I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But when I became a man, I put away the things of a child. We see now through a glass in a dark manner; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know even as I am known." (1 Cor. c. xiii. v. 11, 12.) And where can that Divine Master be thought to teach his disciples so effectually, where can he be imagined to make them feel so forcibly the influence of his