And, in Thomas, we see the same noble reaction. He will not believe; but when convinced of the Saviour's resurrection, he takes in, at once, all the sublime import of that glorious phenomenon. He feels, irresistibly, the divinity of this august being. He feels more. In that risen Saviour he sees, not only a God, but his God—the Invisible and ever Glorious divested of all terrors, and united to his humanity so closely and tenderly, that faith and love may claim him as a friend and brother; may say "My Redeemer liveth."

Beloved brethren, we have long enough been used to speak of unbelieving Thomas; it is time that we reverse this language, and speak of believing Thomas. If his senses had impaired his faith, that faith now vindicates itself, by penetrating where his senses could not reach. Christ is revealed not only to him, but in him. He not only adores, but appropriates-exclaiming, with unutterable confidence and delight, "My Lord and my God."

A single remark more. It is in reproving the incredulity of Thomas, that Jesus proclaims the grand motto of his kingdom, All to faith, all by faith. Under the gospel every benediction is upon faith. It is remarkable that neither upon our Apostle nor his brethren is any such blessing now conferred as that formerly bestowed upon Peter. There it was faith. "And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Barjona, for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father who is in heaven." Here it is sight. Manifesting himself to the senses of the Apostles,

Jesus utters, indeed, the gracious salutation, "Peace be with you." But the blessings of the gospel are reserved for faith. "Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed; blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed."

This announcement refers, of course, to a belief in Jesus personally. Saving faith is confidence in Jesus; a direct, confidential transaction with him. "I know whom," not what, nor, in whom, but whom "I have believed." The case shows clearly, that believing, here, is the faith which apprehends and receives a divine Saviour, and him, dying for our sins, and buried, and rising again, "according to the Scriptures."

This benediction, however, is not to be thus restricted. It is the great, crowning, gospel beatitude. In the sermon on the mount, Jesus multiplied blessings upon various evangelical graces. Here he ascends to the source of all these graces. "Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed;" blessed, because the life of faith is the noblest life. Sense binds us down to the things which are seen, faith draws aside the curtain and looks in upon God and his invisible things. "Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed;" blessed, because the life of faith is the happiest life. Sense, like - Martha, weeps at the graves where we are daily burying all our earthly hopes and joys; faith, like Hannah, cleaves the clouds and gazing up to heaven exclaims, "Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine; the labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flocks shall be cut off from the fold,

and there shall be no herd in the stalls; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation."

Yes, "Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed." But shall it be always thus ? Must we ever see only "through a glass darkly"? No, thanks be unto God, another day, another economy will come. After all, Jesus admits here that the lights of faith are feebler, more languid than those of sense. The irradiations of faith are, at best, only a twilight; it is, however, the twilight, not of evening, but of morning, and soon it shall fade away, not into darkness, but into clear, unclouded noontide. And if, now, the powers of the world to come, thus dimly felt, can fill and delight the soul, what transports will be ours, when all the glories of that world shall burst upon our ravished vision. If, now, when we "see him not," faith can rejoice in Jesus "with joy unspeakable and full of glory;" what imagination can conceive the joy, the rapture, the ecstacy, when we shall "see Him as He is." There he stands that Jesus whom I have so long loved. There he is! beckoning me, saying to me, "Come up hither." "Reach hither thy fingers"—not, however, to put them into the print of the nails, but to take and strike a harp which shall for ever resound to his praise; "and reach hither thy hand," not to thrust it into his side, but to receive a crown of glory which shall never fade away.

SERMON III.

THE NEW COMMANDMENT.

"A new commandment I give unto ye, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.”—JOHN, xiii. 34.

SCIENTIFIC theology has its important uses, but it must not be confounded with religion. Nobody would discard mathematics; it would, however, be an intolerable mockery if, instead of a warm, faithful portrait of one dear to us, the artist should furnish only a cold. arithmetical enumeration of the sizes and proportions of his features. Indeed, though dry scholastic divinity may sometimes serve to expose error and heresy, it may be dangerous to true devotion, it is almost sure to kill the life out of piety; just as the knife destroys the strength and vigor of a healthy body, however indispensable surgery may be to explore the seats of disease, to remove tumors and amputate limbs.

The more you study the gospel, the more will you feel that it appeals to the affections. None drive so many people to heterodoxy as those who are ever dogmatically urging a system of heartless orthodoxy. They are themselves too orthodox to be evangelical, and their hard, controversial, unamiable spirit is most disastrous to the truth as it is in Jesus. The Saviour and his

Apostles constantly address the heart. One reason, indeed, why "the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us," is, that religion may be a living, cordial, genial thing gratitude and attachment to a person; and the sacred books always make love at once the motive and essence of all piety. "If ye love me, keep my commandments."

Our text is a remarkable illustration of this truth. Jesus is now about to leave the earth. Upon that earth his church is about to wage a war which shall certainly triumph. And, now, what are his parting instructions to his church? How are his followers to vanquish all the banded opposition of the world? Does he counsel them to amass wealth? to secure high offices? to acquire learning? to equip fleets and armies ? to employ craft and intrigue? No, the first disciples were so poor that they could say, "Silver and gold have we none;" they were destitute of learning; they were humble and despised; nor did they ever kill or wound a single human being-though constantly wronged, insulted, and murdered. The power with which the Redeemer arms his church-but which that church still so little comprehends-is the power of love. All wealth and honor and might were his, and he could have conferred them on his subjects; but he bequeaths to them a richer legacy, amore resistless potency. He infuses love into their souls. "Love one another," he says. "A new commandment give I unto you, That ye love one another." This is the sacrament by which a new era is inaugurated in the history of the world; this is the sign by which the cause