Chapter IV: Section III

The Flight into Egypt--Herod's cruel Proceedings--and Death--Mary goes
to Jerusalem with Joseph--on their Return their Child is missing--they
find him among the Doctors--he returns with them--the Feast of
Cana--Christ's treatment of his Mother when she desired to speak to
him--her Behaviour at the Crucifixion--she is committed to the care of
John--valuable Lessons to be derived from this touching Scene.

Christians, in their times of trial, are usually favoured with adequate supplies from heaven; so that if they have been overtaken suddenly, or attacked fiercely, their afflictions have neither found them unprepared, nor left them overwhelmed. It seems to have been the design of God, in some of his most painful dispensations, not only to purify the individual character, but to evince in general, by means of the sufferer's patience, humility, and other virtues, the reality of religion, and the power of faith; and thus to furnish an example for the imitation of mankind. This consideration may serve to explain a part of that _mysteriousness_ which has characterized many instances of remarkable tribulation, and to prevent those hasty decisions upon the conduct of Providence which we are too apt to adopt. On all occasions, we may safely conclude, that whatever be the nature of our affliction, the goodness of our Father in heaven will both proportion it to the necessity of the case, and enable us to sustain it, by preparatory consolations.

The story of Mary and her family illustrates this representation. The balance of her lot, so to speak, was poised by a divine hand; and the equilibrium was mercifully and almost constantly preserved, by a proportionate share of joy and sorrow. The danger of reproach and proscription by the Jewish law, was compensated by the circumstances of the miraculous conception; the meanness and misery of her condition in the stable at Bethlehem, were counterbalanced by the visit of the shepherds, and the equally wonderful journey of the eastern Magi; and the whole train of previous manifestations, tended to prepare her for the new distresses which were destined to attend the flight into Egypt.

Herod was arranging his plans with malicious skill, and as he imagined, with secrecy; but there was an eye that watched his movements with unsleeping vigilance, and a wisdom invisibly operating to counteract his purposes. The Magi were forewarned, by a heavenly vision, not to return to this foe of the holy Jesus; and an angel appeared to Joseph, directing him to escape with the mother and child into Egypt; and thus did Herod himself unconsciously fulfil the ancient oracle; "Out of Egypt have I called my Son." The cruel archer shot at the Saviour's life, but the arrow rebounded and took his own.

Behold, then, Mary and Joseph, with their infant charge, hastening, in obedience to the divine command, to a distance from the persecutor's fury! See them under the covert of darkness, and amidst the silence of night, flying to their appointed place of exile; still under the guidance of that hand which regulated all the events of their lives, with no less wisdom and constancy than it directed the movements and fixed the positions of the planetary and starry orbs, which glittered upon their adventurous path. Observe them trembling with human fears, but sustained by spiritual consolations! Mary presses the infant fugitive to her maternal breast, still "keeping all these things, and pondering them in her heart;" incapable of fully penetrating the cloud that obscures their present destiny, but looking through the tears of anguish to her divine Protector and Guide, believing that the light of Israel cannot be extinguished. In some respects, they "knew not whither they went;" but each was, no doubt, inspired by the devout sentiment of the poet:

"I hold by nothing here below,
Appoint my journey and I go;
Though pierced by scorn, oppress'd by pride,
I feel thee good--feel nought beside.

No frowns of men can hurtful prove
To souls on fire with heav'nly love;
Though men and devils both condemn,
No gloomy days arise for them.

While place we seek, or place we shun,
The soul finds happiness in none;
But with a God to guide our way,
'Tis equal joy to go or stay.

Could I be cast where thou art not,
That were indeed a dreadful lot:
But regions none remote I call,
Secure of finding God in all." _Mad. Guion_.

Herod, whose cruelty and duplicity were equally conspicuous, finding that the young child had by some means eluded his grasp, meditated the deepest revenge, which, like a smothered flame, the longer it is confined, the more violently at last it blazes.

For a time he concealed his feelings, with a view of the better securing ultimate success; but, on perceiving that his secret intentions were frustrated, he resolved on open war. Animated with a tyrant's spirit and a demon's rage he determined on the destruction of Jesus, though the accomplishment of his purpose should deluge Judea with blood. He issued his murderous decree, and despatched his executioners to Bethlehem and "all the coasts thereof," to slay "all the children from two years old and under, according to the time which he had diligently inquired of the wise men."

What language can express the barbarity of this conduct! The most savage of mankind have spared children, even when their parents have been guilty. The innocence and weakness of their age have preserved them from the sword, even of a victorious and exasperated enemy; and yet these little innocents, whose parents were not implicated in any plot to deceive the tyrant, whose yoke was endured with extraordinary patience, were given to the murderous sword, and Bethlehem suddenly converted into one vast slaughter-house. "Then," remarks the evangelist, "was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jeremy the prophet, saying, In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not."

"The innocents were martyrs indeed, but not in will, by reason of their tender age. Of these, however, it pleased the Prince of martyrs to have his train composed, when he made his entry into the world, as at this season; a train of infants, suited to an infant Saviour; a train of innocents, meet to follow the spotless Lamb, who came to convince the world of sin, and to redeem it in righteousness. They were the first-fruits offered to the Son of God after his incarnation, and their blood the first that flowed on his account. They appeared as so many champions in the field, clad in the King's coat of armour, to intercept the blows directed against him.

"The Christian Poet, PRUDENTIUS, in one of his hymns, has an elegant and beautiful address to these young sufferers for their Redeemer [10]; Hail, ye first flowers of the evangelical spring, cut off by the sword of persecution, ere yet you had unfolded your leaves to the morning, as the early rose droops before the withering blast. Driven, like a flock of lambs to the slaughter, you have the honour to compose the first sacrifice offered at the altar of Christ; before which methinks I see your innocent simplicity sporting with the palms and the crowns held out to you from above." [11]

The parents of the infant Saviour remained in Egypt until the death of Herod [12], an event which was announced to Joseph in a dream, who was directed to return with Mary and her child into the land of Israel. When he heard that Archelaus, a prince no less sanguinary in his disposition than his infamous predecessor, reigned over Judah in the room of his father, he was afraid of returning; but being again divinely admonished, withdrew into Galilee, under the government of Herod Antipas. He took up his residence at Nazareth, a small city where he had formerly lived; by which the ancient oracle was fulfilled, "He shall be called a Nazarene."

We may he allowed a momentary interruption of the narrative, by one observation on the death of Herod. How easily God can remove out of the way whatever opposes the designs of his wisdom! He lays his finger on the tyrant's head, and he sinks into the dust! Thus it has been, and thus it ever must be, with the adversaries of Christ. Every Herod must die. On the banners of the church is inscribed, "If God be for us, who can be against us?" Where are the Neros, and Domitians, and Caligulas, that have sought the life of Christianity?--They are _dead_! but his cause survives. "He must reign till he hath put all enemies under his feet." The Gospel, in pursuing its course through the world, resembles a mighty river, here and there meeting with powerful obstructions; but not prevented by these, it takes a circuitous course, and leaves them to be gradually overflowed or undermined, and buried in the stream. Thus superstition, idolatry, infidelity, Popery, Mahometanism, constitute so many obstructions to this celestial stream; but while it makes glad the city of God, it is gradually diffusing itself around, and sapping by degrees the foundation of these impediments, till being broken down and forgotten, an angel shall proclaim, "Babylon is fallen, is fallen!" Then shall "the kingdoms of this world become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever." Then all that "sought the young child's life," all that opposed the interests of Jesus, being dead and vanquished, "the whole earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea."

The law of Moses commanded all the adult males of Israel to go up to Jerusalem three times in a year, to celebrate the feasts of the passover, pentecost, and tabernacles. Women were under no obligation to undertake these journeys; [13] but it was not unusual for such as were eminent for piety, to accompany their husbands and friends upon annual occasions. Mary, who set the highest value upon the ordinances of God, and who would not be disparaged by a comparison with the greatest characters of Israel, went up with Joseph year after year. In the exemption by which the law permitted females to remain at home, the weakness of their sex was regarded; but the strength of Mary's piety surmounted every obstacle, and, like her illustrious ancestor, she was "glad when they said, Let us go up to the house of the Lord." How dissimilar was her spirit to that of multitudes, whose reluctance renders religious duties so irksome and so formal; who call the Sabbath a weariness; and who, instead of hailing the hour of sacred solemnities, are eager to escape from spiritual restraints to replunge into the cares,--perhaps into the dissipations, of the world!

The original constitution of the woman was that of a help meet for man; and it should be her pleasure to prompt to holy duties, and to associate with her beloved partner and children in them. Never does she appear so lovely, as when occupied in this pious service, avoiding all those needless cares which might preclude her own attendance upon appointed means.

The passover was intended as a commemoration of the deliverance wrought for the people of Israel when they were brought out of Egyptian slavery, and the destroying angel, who inflicted death upon the first born of their oppressors, passed over untouched the blood-besprinkled doors of the people of God: but, under the Christian dispensation, we are invited with our households to celebrate a more glorious release from a more tremendous bondage. The sacramental festival of the church of Christ records our emancipation from sin, both from its consequences and its dominion, through the atoning blood of the "Lamb slain from the foundation of the world," sprinkled upon the consciences of all believers. Mary, while keeping the typical feast, embraced the real Lamb, and devoutly enjoyed the festival of faith. So let us hasten to this institution, and participate this divine joy.

It is probable that the parents of Jesus were in the habit of taking their son with them every year to Jerusalem, that they might, as it became religious characters, "train him up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord;" we are at least certain that he accompanied them at the age of twelve, when a memorable and instructive incident occurred.

At the expiration of the seven days of unleavened bread, they began their return homeward; but the child Jesus staid behind in Jerusalem, to make inquiries, and to listen to the instructions of those who publicly explained the sense of Scripture, and the traditions of the elders. His mother and Joseph were ignorant of this delay, till the end of the first day's journey; for as it was customary on these occasions to travel in very large companies, and these perhaps often separated into groups at considerable intervals, they took it for granted that he was with some of his friends or kindred, who were no doubt often charmed with his lovely company, and expected him to rejoin them in the evening. The day closed, the different parties assembled--but, to the inexpressible concern of Mary and Joseph, Jesus was not to be found! They searched and searched again, but in vain! The anxious father, but the still more anxious mother, flew to every friend, to every fellow traveller--no tidings were to be heard! Ah, Simeon, thy sword is beginning to pierce this maternal breast! What a night of sleepless anxiety passed, and with what haste did they retrace their steps to Jerusalem! What could they imagine, but that some evil beast had taken their Joseph! The weeping mother chides her negligence, stops every passing stranger, fancies perhaps that some emissary of persecution had seized him, and that Archelaus had accomplished what Herod had begun, searches every house where they had visited or lodged--O what must the mother feel--such a mother--and of such a child!

But--he is found! On the third day, he was seen in one of the courts of the temple appropriated to the Jewish doctors, where they were accustomed to lecture to their disciples. It might be, perhaps, in the room of the great sanhedrim, where they assembled in a semi-circular form. In front of them were three rows of the scholars, containing each three-and-twenty. It is probable, that Christ sat in one of these rows; and, perhaps, the questions he put, and the answers he gave, excited so much notice amongst the doctors, that they called him into the midst of them, which was occasionally done. Thus the Jews state, that "if one of the disciples or scholars say, I have something to say in favour of him (one that is put on his trial) they bring him up and _cause him to sit in the midst of them_; and he does not go down from thence the whole day." [14]

At the moment when his parents discovered the holy child Jesus, he was hearing and asking questions of the doctors, in which he displayed so much understanding, that they and their disciples were astonished. This is a lesson to youth, who should, gladly and submissively receive instruction, and may with respectful eagerness question their superiors. Let them avoid all offensive forwardness and conceit of their knowledge and attainments; remembering that he who could have taught the wisest of the Jewish doctors, sat at their feet _listening_ and _asking them questions_!

Feeling as a mother, but ignorant of the cause of this singular proceeding, Mary ventured, as soon as opportunity permitted, to remonstrate in these words, "Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? Behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing!" We are to consider this language as rather expressive of anxiety, that of anger; yet, perhaps, it may be admitted to contain a mixture of both. His mysterious and unauthorized disappearance might seem to her contrary to the obedience he owed, and was so uniformly accustomed to manifest to his parents. Why did he tarry? Why did he not, at least, _inform them_ of his wishes to remain, and thus spare them the wretchedness which they had suffered during the past three days? Did he not know the tender love of his maternal parent? Did he not know the bitter tears she would shed, and the agonies she would suffer? Did he not feel the claim which she had upon his early years, and the reverence due to her character and piety?

Yes: these were considerations which he never overlooked; but he was absorbed in sublimer thoughts. Jesus was an extraordinary being, and the whole of this transaction ought to be viewed in connexion with the subsequent development of his designs, and the glory of his future actions. In it we have a glimpse of his superiority as the Son of God, and it was, doubtless, intended to attract the attention of his thoughtful mother, and to renew those meditations in which she had formerly exercised her mind, during the miracles of his nativity. His reply, "How is it that ye sought me? wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business," or, at my Father's? [15] would upon any other supposition, seem strange and unintelligible; and, accordingly, his parents did not comprehend him, being at present imperfectly versed in the mysteries of his kingdom. It was, however, perfectly in point, and full of meaning. Mary complained of having been so troubled to find him, and at the same time called Joseph his father. To which he replies, that she might surely have recollected that the temple was the most proper place to inquire for him, who, she knew, though a child, was already consecrated to so divine a work; that he was, in fact, where he ought to be, and about the proper business to which his life was to be devoted; and that, although Joseph were his reputed father, he possessed a higher relationship, and a nobler character than could distinguish mere mortals. God was his father--this was his house--and nothing must impede his purposes. Still, however, he instantly complied with the wishes of his parents, went with them to Nazareth, and during many succeeding years veiled the splendours of his character in the obedience and concealment of his childhood. Mary, in the mean time, "kept all these sayings in her heart."

In detailing the life of Christ, the inspired evangelists do not often introduce his mother; and whenever she is mentioned, it is rather to illustrate _his_ character than _hers_; but we feel pleasure in collecting even the smallest fragments of this divine record, that nothing may be lost; and while searching for MARY, let us rejoice that we are, at the same time, conducted to JESUS.

The next circumstance that demands our notice, is the history of the wedding-feast at Cana in Galilee. Here the Saviour and his mother appear as the most conspicuous characters. These, with the disciples of Christ, at present few in number, were expressly invited; whence it has, with sufficient probability, been thought that it was the marriage of one of his own relations.

It seems highly becoming the dignity of the Saviour to sanction, by his holy presence, the institution of marriage in general, and to sanctify its observance on the present occasion in particular. Its utility, in reference to individual comfort and to the interests of society at large, renders "marriage honourable in all;" and while it would be ungrateful to Providence, not to accept with suitable emotions of cheerfulness the blessing which has been so long and so eagerly sought, it must always be injurious to character to indulge in extravagant merriment or indecorous festivity. Let persons forming such a connection aim to chastise their mirth with a solid piety, recollecting that while they are allowed to be cheerful, they must not be intemperate.

At the feast of Cana, the wine failed. The poverty of the family might not admit of a very liberal supply, or a larger number of visiters might come than had been expected. Mary immediately informed her Son. She saw that this circumstance occasioned confusion, she knew the power of Jesus, and she wished to spare the feelings of the new-married pair, who might have been exposed to censure for the scantiness of the supply. If these were her real sentiments, they were worthy of her character and sex. Let this example of amiable concern for the reputation of another, and the general comfort of the guests at this nuptial feast, stimulate us to an imitation of her kindness. How common is it for persons to depreciate and ridicule each other, availing themselves of trifling mistakes or unimportant oversights, to awaken prejudices and to exasperate dislikes! Envy is so prevalent in the world, so natural to the human heart, and so inconceivably diversified in its methods of operation, that we cannot be too much warned against it, especially as its venom lies concealed, hut often works effectually.

The female sex, of which we have before us so fine a specimen, are naturally attentive and kind, skilful to discern, quick to feel, and prompt to relieve the wants of others. They seem endowed with a generosity, in which it is their honour to excel, while it is their duty to cultivate and indulge it. Are comforts needed? Their ready hands will supply them. Is pain suffered? Their tender hearts will sympathize and aim to alleviate it. They are officious to replenish the cup of joy, and no less prompt to sweeten and mitigate the bitter draughts of sorrow. To them we look to increase our pleasures in the days of prosperity--for them we do not ask in vain to sustain our aching head, and to smooth the pillow of sickness and of death!

But if the views we have imputed to Mary really dictated the intimation which she gave to Jesus, respecting the deficiency of wine, it may be asked, how came she to meet with so austere a reply, as "Woman, what have I to do with thee? Mine hour is not yet come." This requires some attention.

In the first place, notwithstanding the feeling of kindness which dictated this interference, Christ might have thought it necessary to assert his divine prerogative. It is evident, from her immediately directing the servants to do whatever he commanded them, she expected some miracle; for she was, no doubt, fully persuaded by this time of his being the Messiah. But, though endowed with maternal authority, it was not her province to point out the course of his proceeding as Lord of all. He was willing, however, to grant her wishes; but, by this language, imposed secrecy. He would choose the moment and the proper manner of imparting the necessary supply. One would almost infer from the injunction of Mary to the servants, that he had informed her of his intentions; and that while he felt no displeasure at her request, it was necessary to wait his divine will.

In the next place, the words were, probably, not so disrespectful as they at first appear. Some have thought the original phrase might be rendered, "What is that to thee and me?" meaning, "What concern have we in this want of wine? it is the duty of others to provide, and not ours." It must be admitted, however, that this interpretation is not so honourable to the benevolent character of Christ, nor so natural, under all the circumstances, since Mary was evidently and properly concerning herself, as a relative in this affair, and the use of similar expressions in other parts of Scripture imply some degree of reproof. [16] Considering the divine character of our Lord, this phraseology was not improper, because in what concerned his office she had no authority over him; and Mary, impressed with a sense of his extraordinary character, which was every day increasingly developing himself, withdrew in reverential silence to enjoin the necessary obedience upon the servants. She felt, and let us never forget, that the endearments of friendship and the tender ties of consanguinity must not interfere with the superior claims of religion and of Christ.

The greatest objection seems to attach to the use of the abrupt and disrespectful term "woman;" but the usages of antiquity prove that this mode of address was quite different in meaning from what it appears in English. The politest writers, and most accomplished princes, adopted it in addressing ladies of quality; and even servants sometimes spoke to their mistresses in this manner. [17] In the last and tender scene of the cross, it is not to be imagined that the dying Son should intentionally, or even inadvertently, wound the feelings of a weeping mother, and at the very moment too when affectionately commending her to the care of his surviving friend and disciple; and yet his address is precisely similar: "_woman_, behold thy Son!"

Jesus soon issued his orders to the servants to fill six water-pots of stone, which were at hand, and were commonly used for washing cups and other vessels, and the hands and feet of the guests, according to the Jewish custom of purifying. [18] The water, to the astonishment of all present, be turned into wine of so excellent a flavour as to excite particular notice. This was the beginning of his public miracles, a wonderful display of his glory, and a means of confirming the minds of his disciples.

"There is a marriage whereto we are invited; yea, wherein we are already interested; not as the guests only, but as the bride; in which there shall be no want of the wine of gladness. It is marvel if in these earthly banquets there be not some lack. 'In thy presence, O Saviour, there is fulness of joy, and at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.' Blessed are they that are called to the marriage-supper of the Lamb." [19]

As the extraordinary character of Christ became from this moment increasingly apparent, it is easy to believe that the strong feelings of maternal tenderness in the bosom of Mary blended themselves more and more with a spiritual affection. She was indeed, in one sense, the mother of our Lord, but she was also his disciple--she had been guide of his childhood, but she sat at the feet of his maturity. As he ascended to an immeasurable elevation above every other being of the human race, she must feel that the authority of the earthly parent, although it were never disregarded or disavowed, but, on the contrary, must have impressed a peculiarity both upon his affection and hers, was, however, absorbed in the superiority of his heavenly commission. He obeyed her as a child, but she submitted to him as the Lord.

Does the observant eye of a mother watch with unutterable solicitude the progress of her beloved offspring, tracing the improvement of his mind, the development of his faculties, the career of his life, sympathizing with his sorrows and participating with his joys, taking a fond share in all that concerns him--his prospects, his pursuits, his whole character;--does the maternal heart, even in ordinary cases, feel so much and so long, cherishing such undiminished interest in every vicissitude that affects the son of her love? With what lively sensibility must Mary have contemplated the rising glory of the inimitable Jesus! What a track of majesty must have marked his footsteps! What a winning singularity must have distinguished his actions! What purity must have adorned his conduct! What "grace was poured into his lips!" Who can express the deep interest that his thoughtful mother must have felt in the discourses she heard, the wisdom with which he silenced gainsayers, penetrated human hearts, exposed secret motives and purposes, confounded the most wise and artful, and communicated the sublimest truths in the most commanding and lucid manner! How must she have felt to have been the witness of his astonishing miracles, to have seen the flashes of unearthly dignity breaking through the concealment of a human exterior, and to have traced the accomplishment of all that prophets had foretold and angels announced! O, what an honour to have been the _mother_, but still more so to be the _disciple_ of him who was predicted by prophets, prefigured by types, attended by ministering angels, celebrated by the most eminent of the Jewish church, obeyed by all the elements of nature, the principalities of darkness, and the powers of heaven;--who, "being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God; but made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men!"

The sacred history, which is chiefly occupied in the life of Christ himself, and the detail of his actions, does not explain how often his mother accompanied him. The incidental mention of her and his brethren upon one occasion shows, however, what we cannot but infer, that she was one of his frequent attendants. He was talking "to the people" in a private house, with the instructive familiarity for which he was so remarkable, when "his mother and his brethren stood without, desiring to speak with him." They had something of importance to communicate, otherwise it cannot be supposed they would have interrupted his conversation; but, being unable to reach him on account of the multitude, their wishes were conveyed from one to another, till the person who stood by him intimated that his mother and brethren were waiting to speak with him. Availing himself of the circumstance to impress his admonition upon the assembled crowd, he said to the person who informed, "Who is my mother? and who are my brethren?" Then addressing the people as he pointed to the disciples, he exclaimed, "Behold my mother, and my brethren! For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother and sister and mother."

Did he then intend to pour contempt upon these near relatives? Did he disclaim the ties of kindred? Did he exclude Mary, James, and Joses, Simeon and Judas, from the honour and the happiness of participating those spiritual blessings which he so liberally dispensed to others?--Surely not. Applying to this the same principle of interpretation which was adopted in explaining his words at the feast of Cana, we infer that he meant to intimate that they who called him brother according to the flesh, and even she who bore him, need not be envied by those whom he admitted to the intimacy and happiness of a spiritual relationship; and that whatever of love and kindness could be supposed to arise from the natural connexion, was enjoyed in a nobler sense by virtue of a spiritual union. Every thing that can consummate the happiness of man, every thing that can secure the most glorious and permanent distinction, arises from being the disciple of the blessed Jesus, and "doing the will of his Father." Let such an one envy no more the possessions of time, for he is heir to the inheritance of heaven; let him not value at too high a price any human honour, title, or relationship, for he is a member of the "household of God."

We now hasten to a scene calculated at once to excite our liveliest sensibilities and our warmest gratitude--a scene upon which the eyes of the remotest ages were fixed with holy anticipation, and which all future generations will contemplate with retrospective joy--a scene distinguished by the most affecting incidents--in one of which, not the least remarkable, the mother of our Lord appears conspicuous.

It is observable, that whenever he alluded to the circumstances of his own death, Christ adopted a mode of speaking which is expressive of the most dignified composure of mind, united with an irresistible firmness of purpose. He advanced to the cross of martyrdom like one who, "for the joy that was set before him, despised the shame." His love to man annihilated the terror of death, and rendered him solicitous to shed his blood. "I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how am I straitened till it be accomplished." In the hour of previous conflict he intimated that this was the tragical but necessary design of his coming into the world. From his radiant throne in glory, he saw, in awful perspective, the afflictions which were destined for his incarnate state; and, instead of a train of angels, he prepared to be attended by a retinue of sorrows, during his abode in the world. Above all, he beheld the CROSS, surrounded with awful clouds, raised amidst the scorn of human and the triumph of infernal enemies. He saw the full tide of misery set in against him; but, with unabating love to man, and perfect obedience of spirit to the Father--melting with pity and glowing with zeal--he prepared to encounter the billows and the storms of death. He was not overtaken by a calamity which he neither foresaw nor could prevent, for ten thousand angels at his word would have hastened to pluck him from the waves; but in fulfilment of the everlasting covenant, to glorify the Father and to redeem a perishing world, he was "led to the slaughter."

At this period all Judea was present to celebrate the paschal festival; the great council of the nation was convened; Herod, the governor of Judea, and Pilate, the tetrarch of Galilee, with their attending armies, displayed the grandeur of the empire; and on the mount of crucifixion a vast concourse of people assembled to witness this tragical scene. What must have been their sensations when nature became convulsed--when darkness veiled the sun--and the inhabitants of the invisible world burst through the trembling earth, and reappeared to many in Jerusalem! Never did an hour revolve since the beginning of time that laboured with such great events. The fate of the moral creation was now weighing in the scales--the happiness of millions was at stake--the interests of eternity were deciding--and the victory over sin, death, and hell, was proclaimed by the expiring Redeemer, when he said, "IT IS FINISHED."

Amidst this scene of wonders, behold a group of females, no less similar in character than in name; Mary the mother of Jesus, Mary the wife Cleopas, and Mary Magdalene. Many women are honourably conspicuous in the records of the New Testament, but never did they appear with greater advantage than at this moment. All the disciples were fled, with the single exception of John, who had overcome his temporary apprehensions, and was returned to the field of danger. These pious heroines, although incapable of affording the glorious Sufferer any assistance, and although surrounded by an infuriated enemy, rose superior to the fears of their sex, and pierced through the crowd, to testify their sympathy, to listen to his dying words, and to watch the expiring flame of life to the moment of its extinction.

What a scene was this for his MOTHER! How could she sustain the horrible spectacle? How could she survive this fiery trial? What inconceivable anguish must it have occasioned to witness the death of her _Son_! Say, ye mothers who have watched the infant days and progressive maturity of a firstborn, what distress ye have felt at his early loss! The flower perhaps had just expanded to the day, when the pestilential wind blew from the desert of death and withered its beauties! It is gone--but has left behind a sense of unspeakable desolation. How were your most delightful hopes annihilated in a moment, and ye were ready to adopt the language of David in his agony, "O my son Absalom! my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom! my son, my son!"

But this was a death of the most ignominious and painful description. Mary beheld her Son suffering the shame of a _public execution_ and the torment of _a cross_. She saw him suspended between heaven and earth, as if unworthy of either, crucified between two malefactors, and insulted by an outrageous mob. She heard the revengeful speeches of that infatuated multitude, and the mutual congratulations of those by whom they were instigated, and who ridiculously imagined they had obtained a decisive victory! The terror of this hour and power of darkness pervaded her own spirit, and she lived to feel a greater horror than it is in the power even of the king of terrors himself to inflict.

This was the crucifixion of an _innocent Son_! He had experienced indeed the mockery of a judicial proceeding, but had been sacrificed to the ravings of a despicable and infatuated mob, the asseverations of perjured witnesses, the timidity of Pilate, and the hatred of every class of Jews. No guile was found in his mouth, no recrimination in his language, no impatience in his conduct. Conscious of perfect innocency, he yet submitted to condemnation and death as a notorious offender; and, with all things under his control, he did not lift a finger to stop the career of injustice, or arrest the course of infernal rage. If the mothers of his two associates in suffering were present on this occasion, whatever bitterness of anguish they had felt to see the mournful end of their own offspring, they could not but admit that public crime demanded public punishment, and sentiments of commiseration must have blended themselves with those of censure when they viewed their fate. But the mother of Jesus saw her beloved Son condemned without reason, and suffering in defiance of justice. In proportion as she knew his innocency she must have felt his loss.

But his character was more than innocent; this, as the astonished centurion exclaimed, "Truly, this man was the _Son of God_!" Well might she wonder that no angel appeared to rescue the expiring Redeemer, and that he who had saved others did not save himself! Well might she have been confounded at the mysterious circumstance, that he whom winds and waves obeyed, and whose presence on earth was felt by universal nature, should die in apparent disgrace, exposed to the raillery of his inveterate enemies!

This afflicted mother was also a _widow_! Long since the evangelical narrative has dropped the name of her husband, doubtless because Joseph was no more; but Jesus survived to console her amidst domestic misfortunes, to cheer her declining days, to prop her falling house, to pour the wine of consolation into her cup of sorrow, and the light of celestial truth into her mind. He was all goodness, all perfection, who could never forget a mother--a _widowed_ mother, wherever "he went about doing good"--was to this awful hour her staff and comfort. How keen was the edge of that piercing sword of which Simeon spake, and what unparralleled grief was hers when she saw the cross, and the tortures, and the blood of her Son!

Notwithstanding all, Mary is not seen wringing her hands and tearing her hair in distraction; nor is she heard to utter intemperate language against his persecutors, or to manifest resentment at the dispensations of Heaven: she neither curses man, nor blasphemes God; nor do we observe her fainting beneath the pressure of accumulated woes; but she stands near the cross, in solemn silence, pondering, in an attitude of profound meditation, and submitting to the purposes of Providence.

Let us admire the power of that "grace" which is promised to Christians, "to help them in time of need," and of the efficacy of which the present scene furnishes so substantial an evidence. Is it possible that after such a record as this we should ever doubt or forget the divine assurances--"My grace is sufficient for thee"--"When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee, and through the rivers they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire thou shall not be burnt, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee?" Should thy desponding heart be ready to distrust the wisdom or deny the goodness of thy "Father who is in heaven," when sorrows, diversified and oppressive, burden thy spirit, think of the mother of Jesus at the cross of her Son!

If the sublime sympathy of Mary prevented the recollection of her personal condition, Jesus was not so overwhelmed with affliction as to be unmindful of the future lot of his poor, pennyless, helpless, widowed, and weeping mother; but committed her to the care of his disciple JOHN, directing him to regard her henceforward as a mother, and her to consider him as a son. _Woman, behold thy son_--"My beloved disciple will fulfil every office of filial tenderness, and at my request he will receive and provide for my destitute parent." _Behold_, said he, addressing John, _behold thy mother_; "take her to thy house, allow her to share thy means, respect and supply her as the most endeared relative of thy dying Lord. I have no property to leave, no silver or gold to distribute: this is my fond and my only bequest. I have confidence in thy attachment, and when thou dost minister to _her_ thou wilt remember _me_."

From this exquisitely touching and instructive scene we must take a lesson of _dependence on the providence of God_. If he inflict unexpected trials, he affords unexpected supplies. His resources are numberless; and he who raised up John to supply the place of an endeared Son to Mary, can never be at loss for expedients when his people are in distress. One prop is removed, another is substituted. "O fear the Lord, all ye his saints, for there is no want to them that fear him." Earthly cisterns may indeed be broken, and temporal streams of enjoyment may cease, but "the fountain of living waters" is inexhaustible.

Take a lesson _of filial piety_. Children are under an indispensable obligation to succour their aged parents. If amidst the agonies of crucifixion, Jesus so carefully provided for the future comfort of his maternal parent, be assured "he has set an _example_ wherein we should follow his steps;" and disrespect to such claims is a dereliction of our character, and a forfeiture of our profession as the disciples of Christ.

Learn to _be prompt in your obedience to every requisition of your Lord_. It is an honour to be employed by him in any service, whatever it may cost us. John did not hesitate, or indulge in surmisings; he did not think of the trouble, the expense, or the possible danger of harbouring the mother of one who was executed as an enemy to Cesar; but "from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home." If the sacred history had followed him to his lowly habitation, where our imaginations are ready to accompany John and his venerable charge, it would doubtless have exhibited a specimen of tender friendship and unwearied assiduity. What could John deny to the mother of his Lord? How eagerly would he promote her comfort! What "sweet converse" would they "hold together" upon the life, the miracles, the doctrines, the precepts, the death of Jesus! What a gleam of light and joy would the remembrance of one so dear throw upon the darkest scene of their lives, and how would the glory of his subsequent ascension, and dignity in the invisible world, occupy their daily intercourse and their most devotional moments! "The sweet hour of prime," and the serenity of "evening mild," and "twilight gray," would still find them amidst the wonders of the cross or the triumphs of the resurrection.

Nothing more is said of Mary till we come to the Acts of the Apostles, where a brief but honourable notice closes her history. In an upper room at Jerusalem "abode Peter, and James, and John, and Andrew, Philip, and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James the son of Alpheus, and Simon Zelotes, and Judas the brother of James. These all continued with one accord in prayer and supplication, with the women, and _Mary, the mother of Jesus_, and with his brethren."

It is supposed that John took her with him to Ephesus, where she died in an extreme old age. There is a letter of the oecumenical council of Ephesus, importing, that in the fifth century it was believed she was buried there; but some authors think she was buried at Jerusalem.