came to the house of Elisabeth, in the gift of a son, the "Forerunner of the Lord."

Steadily the Son of God placed his eye on Calvary, and toward it he directed his steps from his birth. He came not into the world to live. He came to die. He did live. He "grew in wisdom and in favor with God and man." He has "left us an example." But all this was incidental. Without Calvary, he would not have trodden the earth at all. Onward, with a steady step, from the manger, he moved to the Cross. He saw its summit from his home at Nazareth. Its shadows fell on his path, as he toiled beneath the hot sun of Nazareth. All his thought tended to this summit. Devout Greeks, at Jerusalem, sought out his disciples, to whom they said: "Sirs, we would see Jesus." Our Lord knew that only through Calvary could the door of mercy be opened to the Gentiles. "His soul was troubled" at the request. The agony of the Atonement pressed upon him. Visions of the death he must die caused him to exclaim: "Father, save me from this hour." The 66 corn of wheat must fall into the ground and die." The strengthening voice of God from heaven swept the agony from his serene brow, and, with uplifted eye, he exclaimed: "But for this cause came I unto this hour." A trembling penitent received from his lips the only words of blessed admonition and mercy that she ever heard. She had been an outcast among men, with the brand of infamy on her brow. He called her and said, 66 "Go, and sin no more." Soon she came into the divine presence bearing precious ointment-the wages of infamy, probably. She poured out the costly

perfume on his feet. She knew not how that gift agitated the heart of Jesus, and bore him onward to the hour of expiation. "She did it for my burial," said he; "let her alone."

Our Lord stood at the grave of him he loved, groaning in spirit, and shedding tears over Lazarus. "Behold how he loved him," said the Jews. What was death to him who held the keys of hell? Why shed he tears that Lazarus had laid in the grave four days, when with a word he could summon him from the tomb, bound hand and foot? He knew full well, that, in eight short days, the work for which he left the bosom of the Father would be done. His best friends would behold him in agony on the cross. They would bear him to his sepulcher. His cause seemed to be lost; hell would be exultant. Nor would the disciples remember, till many days after, his tender words to Martha: "I am the resurrection and the life."

Our Lord has left us no memorials of his birth. Scanty are the fragments of his childhood and youth. Little do we know of that interesting period between the time when he talked with the Doctors in the Temple and his appearance at the waters of Jordan, demanding baptism of John. No life could be richer in incident, or more precious to the Church. As a man, he left the poor home of Joseph, a few tools, and his daily work, to take up power, renown, and repute. At thirty years of age he made himself a name, and filled the world with his fame. The earth shook beneath his tread. People were awed with his divine utterances. The sea and the elements heard his

voice, and obeyed him. Disease felt his healing touch and departed. Demons knew him, and fled abashed from his presence. The grave and corruption gave back their prey at his voice. His miraculous power was seen in all that he did. When men arrested him, he told them that he gave them that power-that it was by his permission that any man touched him. In that Senate, amid the fiendish mockeries and exultations of his judges, he could, if he would, have let them down to hell. He had only to speak, he said, and a “legion of angels" would appear for his deliverance. He was arrested, because he came into the world for that purpose. He laid down his life because he chose to do so; no man could take it from him. When he chose, he could take up his life again. Of all this no memorials are left.

But of Calvary marked mention is made. An institution commemorates the agony and infamy of crucifixion, that will remain while the sun and moon shall endure. "Ye do show forth my death "—"Do this in remembrance of me"-" Show forth my death till I come," are the commands. The bread and the wine are emblems of a broken body and spilled blood. "We take, and eat, in remembrance that Christ died for us, and feed on him in our hearts, by faith, with thanksgiving."

But where are the memorials of his teachings, his miracles, his compassion, or his mercy? Blessed be God, for all this in the incarnate Lamb of God. But, as the great purpose of his life was to make his soul an offering for sin, he could afford no memorials but

such as should exalt that grace which led him, though rich, to become poor, that man, through that poverty, might be rich.

Our Lord received guests from his Father's mansion. Moses and Elias were the chosen ambassadors to visit the earth, and converse with God's well-beloved Son. Tabor, a solitary mountain in the centre of a great plain, was selected as the Audience Chamber. Our Lord robed himself with the garments of light, to give audience to his celestial visitants. We know the theme of their discourse. It was not the wonderful success of Jesus-the mighty miracles he wrought-nor the renown of the Son of God. Simple and impressive is the record: "Moses and Elias appeared in glory to Jesus, and spake of his decease, which he should accomplish at Jerusalem." Even heaven could not be silent on the great theme of Calvary. Angels still look on that little summit with wonder. Calvary will never pass away. When the heavens shall depart and there shall be no more sea-when the sun shall be turned to blood and the stars to dust-when the angels of God shall shout that "time shall no longer be"-Calvary, like a jewel from a crushed crown, will abide. Around it the redeemed before the throne shall meet and shout, in the presence of the Lamb, "Thou hast redeemed us to God with thy blood;" and he shall lead them to living fountains, and his own soft hand wipe tears from every eye.

V.-CALVARY AND THE INCARNATION.

"The Word descending from above,

Though with the Father still on high,

Went forth upon his work of love,
And soon to life's last hour drew nigh.
At birth, our brother he became ;
Ever himself as food he gives;

To ransom us he died in shame,

As our reward, in bliss he lives."

"For your sake he became poor." The fullness and grace of this saying we learn only at the cross. The mystery of the Incarnation who can comprehend? "A virgin shall bear a Son!" "The holy thing that shall be born of thee shall be the Son of God!" The fullness of time came, numbered not to the birth of the Saviour, but to the time he should "be cut off," as if the birth and life were nothing; Bethlehem of no account, Calvary all! Living in the town of Nazareth was a woman named Anna, with Mary, her daughter. She was of the royal line of David. Had the kingly line been unbroken, Anna and her children would have dwelt in the places of kings. Visions of royal greatness did not disturb that humble but happy home. Beneath that lowly roof Mary dwelt. Her ambition seemed to be, to serve well the God of her fathers and be, among her kindred, "the joyful mother of children." She was affianced to a man of lowly calling, but one whom revelation pronounced a