"And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that all who believe in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life." With the great skill of heavenly teaching our LORD leads on the master of the law of Moses to the spiritual interpretation of the same law, reminding him of the ancient history, and bringing this forward as a figure of His Passion and man's salvation. For the Book of Numbers relates that the children of Israel, wearied in the wilderness by their long journey and labours, murmured against the LORD and Moses, and therefore the LORD sent fiery serpents among them. And when because of the plague and the death of many they cried unto Moses, and he intreated for them, the LORD ordered him to make a brazen serpent, and raise it for a sign. Whosoever, says he, that is stricken, looketh upon it, shall live: and so it was. The wounds of the fiery serpents are the poison, and incentives of wickedness, which destroy with spiritual death the souls that they touch. And well were the people murmuring against the LORD wasted with the bites of the serpents, so that they might know from the external stripes how much inner sufferings they would endure from murmuring. But the uplifting of the serpent, on which they that were stricken looked and were healed, is the Passion of our Redeemer on the Cross, by faith in which the kingdom of death, sin, is alone conquered. For fittingly are sins, which draw on both soul and body to destruction, represented by serpents; not only because they are fiery, venomous, and skilful to destroy, but also because by the serpent our first parents were persuaded to sin, and so from immortal were made mortal. Fittingly by the brazen serpent is our LORD represented, because He came in the likeness of the flesh of sin, because the brazen serpent had some resemblance to the fiery serpents, though it had none of the noxious poison in its members; but on the contrary, when uplifted, healed those that were bitten; so unquestionably the Redeemer of the human race put on not sinful flesh, but a likeness thereto; that by suffering death on the Cross He might deliver those who believe in Him from all sin, but also from death itself. 66 As, therefore, Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so,' says he, “must the Son of Man be lifted up.”

W. B. F.

DR. JOHNSON'S VIEW OF THE CAUSES OF SCEPTICISM.-Scepticism is caused by- 1. Indifference about opinions; 2. Supposition that things disputed are disputable; 3. Demand of unsuitable evidence; 4. Complaint of the obscurity of Scripture; 5. Con

tempt of fathers, and of authority; 6. Absurd method of learning objections first; 7. Study, not for truth, but vanity; 8. Sensuality, and vicious life; 9. False honour, false shame; 10. Omission of prayer, and religious exercises.-Oct. 31, 1784.

a

DEATH OF LORD STRAFFORD.

TURNING himself about, he saluted all the noblemen, and took a solemn leave of all considerable persons on the scaffold, giving them his hand.

And after that he said-"Gentlemen, I would say my prayers, and I entreat you all to pray with me and for me." Then his chaplain, Dr. Carr, laid the Book of Common Prayer upon the chair before him, as he kneeled down; on which he prayed almost a quarter of an hour, and repeated the twenty-fifth Psalm; then he prayed as long or longer without a book, and ended with the LORD's Prayer. Then standing up, he spied his brother, Sir George Wentworth, and called him to him, and said, "Brother, we must part: remember me to my sister and to my wife, and carry my blessing to my eldest son, and charge him from me that he fear GoD, and continue an obedient son of the Church of England, and that he approve himself a faithful subject to the king; and tell him that he should not have any private grudge or revenge towards any concerning me; and bid him beware not to meddle with Church livings, for that will prove a moth and canker to him in his estate; and wish him to content himself to be a servant to his country, as a justice of peace in his county, not aiming at higher preferments. Convey my blessing also to my daughters Anne and Arabella: charge them to fear and serve GOD, and He will bless them; not forgetting my little infant, that knows neither good nor evil, and cannot speak for itself; GOD speak for it, and bless it." Then said he, "I have done; one stroke will make my wife husbandless, my dear children fatherless, and my poor servants masterless, and separate me from my dear brother and all my friends; but let God be to you and them all in all.”

After that, going to take off his doublet and make himself ready, he said, "I thank God I am no more afraid of death, nor daunted with any discouragements arising from my fears, but do as cheerfully put off my doublet at this time as ever I did when I went to bed." Then he put off his doublet, and wound up his hair with his hands, and then put on a white cap.

Then he called, "Where is the man that should do this last office?" meaning the executioner; "Call him to me." When he came, and asked him forgiveness, he told him he forgave him and all the world. Then kneeling down by the block, he went to prayer again himself, the Archbishop of Armagh kneeling on one side, the minister on the other. After prayer, he turned himself to the minister, and spoke some few words softly, with his hands lifted up. The minister closed his hands in his. Then bowing himself to the earth, to lay down his head upon the block, he told

the executioner that he should first lay down his head to try the fitness of the block, and take it up again before he laid it down for good and all; and this he did. And before he laid it down again, he told the executioner that he would give him warning when to strike by stretching forth his hands: and then he laid his neck on the block, stretching forth his hands. The executioner struck off his head at one blow; then took the head up in his hands and showed it to all the people, and said, “God save the king!"

AN ECHO TO A CRY FROM THE FOOT OF THE CROSS.

BUT a little while ago-a very little while-and the cry went forth throughout the length and breadth of Christian England; a cry to wring groans of compassion even from the hard stones, if it fail to awaken an echo in your breasts,-ye who name yourselves by the Name of the Crucified; a cry that may well pierce the very coldest depths of earth, if it avail not to rend the shroud of self which, alas! too often wraps in its icy folds that heart of man, which was framed to receive and reflect the warm rays of Divine love.

The cry has gone forth; and oh! remember that, whether or no it be heard and heeded on earth, it has already been heard in the heavenly courts; echoed among their countless hosts; recorded, for a witness against unloving, thankless man, in the books which shall be opened at that day when small and great shall stand before GOD, to be judged out of those things which are written in the book, according to their works; yea, and it shall be heard, echoing on and on for ever, a haunting, maddening cry of bitter reproach and most righteous doom, to multitudes of those who, deaf to His voice during their day of grace, in which He lovingly invited them to work for Him, shall, from the left hand of the Son of Man, be driven accursed to the place prepared for the devil and his angels. Ye who have heard the cry, say, have any among you 66 passed by on the other side," with the thought in your heart, if not uttered by your ready lips, "Am I my brother's keeper?" Have you closed your ear against this loud and bitter wail of helpless and all but hopeless misery, lest it disturb your indolent ease, your selflove, your self-indulgence? What is it so? You are silent. Think, then, we pray you, for a few short moments, how you will bear the averted eye of your LORD in that day when, trembling before His judgment-seat, you would gladly, if it were possible, give your wealth, your worldly honours, your luxuries, yea, all in

which you vainly dream your life and well-being here consist, might you but win one look, of love from Him Who, in His suffering members, now asks your loving compassion. Say you that you love your crucified LORD? and yet do you refuse to acknowledge His claim, when He would put that love to the test by pointing out another and yet another channel in which you may pour it out to Him, a still deep stream flowing calmly on, ever widening, ever deepening, until its pure flood be emptied forth into the eternal ocean of His boundless love?

Ye in whose breasts that piercing cry of woe has been echoed by an answering sigh; ye who have inclined your willing ear, and turned your pitying sight to look upon the deadly wound; will you rest content with a look, a sigh, perchance a word of compassion, and will you refrain from holding forth a helping hand? Will you, too, pass by on the other side? Can you, then, bear the look of wrath of the slain Lamb, your King, your Judge, from which you may not turn away when He shall fix it on you as you stand to give an account of your works before the throne of His glory? What will be your plea then, when He shall say to you, "I was wounded sore, yea almost unto death; I lay helpless, and ready to perish; I cried for pity, and ye showed none; I looked for succour, and ye gave Me none.' Will you answer, "LORD, we knew Thee not under so vile a form. We heard the cry indeed; we looked upon the rankling wound; we sighed for the misery; our hearts throbbed with pity for the victim of that festering sore; but we did nought, for we knew not that the cry, the wounds, were Thine?" Think you He will own your plea? Will He not rather say, "Ye shall have judgment without mercy that have showed no mercy. In these, My wounded and neglected brethren, I asked your loving aid, and ye would not minister unto Me?"

But we

Do any say, "We would gladly do much towards helping these poor afflicted ones; our hearts yearn towards them. Would to GoD we could rescue them, and heal their wound! cannot do what others may. The help we could proffer would be as nought. We would gladly lay an offering at the feet of our crucified LORD; but we have little to offer-so little, that it would prove a gift unworthy Him Who is the great LORD of all. Our offering would be but as a grain of sand cast upon the ocean shore -a single drop poured into the waters of the boundless deep." Well, be it so. Still we would exhort you, further, how you may render that paltry gift a thing of countless price in the eyes of Him Whom you desire to serve. Come ye with us for a while; we will lead you along the dusty highway of a sultry southern clime. We will show you a sight which makes angels pause to behold, while their pure faces beam with reverent joy. Follow that poor wayfarer. His aching limbs will scarce bear him onwards. He

looks as though he must sink at every step; yet he toils on, for he knows that if he lie down to rest beneath the scorching rays of that blazing sun, he sleeps to wake no more. And lo! yonder is the outline of human habitations, and he hopes that the dwellers therein will not refuse him the scanty refreshment he will ask, to enable him to pursue his weary way. His house is still far off. It was the abode of poverty when he left it, to seek among strangers a maintenance which he has not found. He wished to lessen the number of those who crowded, famishing, around the scantily supplied board; and he hoped to return after a few years of absence, and add his honest earnings to the little family store. But he has scarce gained a miserable subsistence; and want, and hardship, and disease have well nigh finished their work. He is returning to his home now, for he would fain once more see those who called him son and brother; but he knows that he will not long be a burden there, for he is returning but to die.

He will

He has almost entered the little hamlet; and why does his wan face glow with joy? How is it that his staggering step becomes firmer, so that it would seem he has forgotten his weakness and fatigue? He only hoped before; he is now sure that he will not be denied the crust of black bread, the drink of cool water he will humbly ask; and in the strength of that he thinks he will be able to reach his home. And why is he now sure of that relief he only hoped for before? At the further end of that little hamlet the fainting wayfarer sees a wayside Cross. They who dwell here, then, name themselves, as he does, by the Name of Him Who, through His hanging on that Cross, made them brethren. implore their aid in that sacred Name, and they will freely give, for is it not He, the Crucified, Who asks it in the person of their suffering brother? The wayfarer is an hungered, and thirsty, and a stranger, and sick, and these Christians will minister unto him; for in so doing they will minister to the LORD JESUS, Whose Cross is standing there to remind them of Him. But oh! shame upon those who bear the Christian Name, and in whose breasts beats no Christian heart! He is repulsed from door after door; yet he murmurs not, nor does he invoke curses on those so-called Christian men. He has reached the wayside Cross; and as he kneels before it you may catch the scarcely audible words, "Forgive them, they know not what they do." His limbs will carry him no further now he sinks exhausted to the ground, and reclines his weary head against the foot of that friendly Cross. Slumber overtakes him; the sun is still blazing fiercely; he will die, to all appearance, away from his longed-for home, friendless, and all alone. But see, some one approaches, and he will be succoured before it is too late. A female form bends over him; but what succour can she afford? Surely she can do nothing, for she is herself but a ragged beggar.

Her last morsel is just consumed,