desire of Zaccheus was to gratify his curiosity; and apparently for no other reason was he anxious to see Jesus. Better come on any ground than not at all. One that comes from an inferior motive may go away in possession of the kingdom of heaven. Many a one comes to the house of God out of curiosity who goes away from it impressed with the things that belong to his everlasting peace. One is glad if persons come to the house of prayer on purpose to listen to the preaching of the Gospel; but one should also not be unthankful if others come from any motives. Some that come to scoff may go away to pray. Some that come to gratify a mere itching desire may leave not only impressed themselves, but, like the woman of Samaria, anxious to bid others: "Come and see one who told me all things—is not this the Christ that should come into the world?"

When Jesus came to the place, He looked up and saw Zaccheus. Jesus sees them that see not Him; looks upon us before we look up to Him; calls us first, and we answer; moves towards us, and responsively, by his grace, we move towards Him. Jesus said unto him, "Zaccheus, make haste, and come down; for to-day I must abide at thy house." How startling to the publican! I, the Lord of Glory, though the despised Nazarene among menI, whom you have come to see, so strong in your curiosity, am come this day for the purpose, not of gratifying your taste, but consecrating your household: for I am come to abide at thy house. How often does God do more for us than we ask, always vastly more than we expect, exceeding abundantly above all we can ask or think!

Zaccheus made haste, and came down, and received Him joyfully. But how did the people look upon this? The publican was the Roman tax-gatherer. Zaccheus, however, who was a chief one, was a Jew; the majority were Gentiles or Romans; and Zaccheus, being a publican, was hated and detested, and held in very great disrepute by not the more excellent, but the more sanctimonious

Pharisees. The Pharisees were worse than the publicans, inasmuch as the publicans made no profession of religion-which, of course, is bad enough; but the Pharisees made a profession of religion in order to conceal the crimes they perpetrated-the plunder of the widow and the orphan, in which they indulged, and the unjust and evil habits by which they were almost universally branded. When they saw this scene they were shocked; they were always far more shocked at violating a rubric than breaking a moral law. They were far more pleased-at least, they professed it-with Jesus for observing some ceremonial rite, than at his exercising goodness and mercy. Therefore they exclaimed in indignation, "That He was gone to be a guest with a man that is a sinner." Jesus did eat and drink with publicans and sinners; but He did not go to enjoy their hospitality only, but to enlighten their minds and save their souls. It is right to accept hospitality from any when that hospitality is needed; it is wrong to say to the worst, "Stand aside; I am holier than thou." But it is our duty, wherever we go, not to conceal our character; not to shrink from responsibility; but to remember that everywhere and at all times, we are a royal priesthood, the children of Abraham, the representatives of Christ, by whose conduct the world will judge what Christ is, and what Christianity

means.

"Zaccheus stood and said unto the Lord: Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have taken anything from any man by false accusation, I restore him fourfold." These words of Zaccheus would seem to have been the result of an impression made upon his heart by the words of Jesus; certainly nothing could be more decisive evidence of the influence of God's grace than this renunciation of the evil, and resolution to do what was good. Where there is the grace of God there will be a desire to do what is just. If you owe anything to any man, you are to do the utmost to pay it; if you can pay and do not, it is criminal;

if you cannot pay, it is your misfortune.

In the first case it is

guilt, in the second case it is reason for penitence, for regret, and humility.

"Jesus said unto him, This day is salvation come to this house"—that is, the knowledge of it, the enjoyment of it, the offer of it, to you and to all that are within your house. And of Zaccheus he says, "Forsomuch as he also is a son of Abraham: for the Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost."

Christ Anointed by Mary.

John xii. 1-11.

NOTHER episode in the life of our Lord, full of tenderness and instruction, now presents itself to our contemplation.

Like all our blessed Redeemer taught, it is profitable for doctrine, for instruction, and correction in righteousness. Also like all the lights kindled in that sunrise eighteen centuries ago, they do not grow faint or die with the lapse of years. They shed on the varied problems of the present a light as clear as if they had just descended from the heavens. They brighten cottage firesides and palatial halls-they shine into humble casement and oriel window. They are also a lamp to

our feet and a light to our path.

It appears that when Jesus was come to Bethany, where Lazarus

was which had been dead, whom He raised from the grave, that the reunited family made Him a supper, to which He was invited as an act of hospitality, and Martha, according to her character in the Gospels, served; "but Lazarus was one of them that sat at the table with Him." This is striking proof that Lazarus was really raised from the dead, that it was no deception of an hour, but a deed of power followed by lasting and unequivocal proof. What strikes one as no slight evidence of the inspiration of the Bible, is that nothing is said by Lazarus, after his resurrection from the dead, of the process he had gone through, of the scenes he had witnessed, of the blessings he had experienced; and yet these are all points which we long and thirst to know-which it would gratify our curiosity to know. But as the Bible was not written to gratify the curiosity of men, but to enlighten their minds, and win their hearts to the Saviour, its silence upon curious questions is as great evidence of its divinity as its eloquence upon questions that are truly good for us. On this occasion Mary,-the contemplative Mary, whose character was so complete a contrast to that of Martha,—to express the love that she felt, took a precious perfume, a fragrant or aromatic oil, and poured it upon the feet of Jesus, and wiped them with her hair, and the whole house was filled with its perfume. Judas, a miserable, narrow-minded, and avaricious traitor and materialist also, when he saw this, said, "What a pity to waste the perfume! Might it not have been sold, and so have benefited the poor?" If he had said this from the heart, it would have been wrong. It does not follow that the poor will not be benefited, because they that have, live according to the state in which God in his providence has placed them. It does not follow that the person that lives in the greatest splendour, provided that splendour be suitable to his or her rank, neglects the poor; or if that person were to give up the noble dwelling, and to live in a lowly hut, that the poor would thereby get the benefit. I do not think they would. That precious perfume

had made many fingers busy in its preparation; the ships of Tarshish, and Tyre, and the isles, had brought it from afar; its perfumes of the rarest kind, were bought and sold for profit, and prepared by toil and skill, all of which had their payment and their equivalent. And, perhaps, by taking that fresh bottle of fragrant oil, and pouring it on the feet of Jesus, Mary did not deny the poor what the poor needed, but contributed more substantially to the poor than if she had never bought it, or none had sold so great and obvious a luxury. As matter of fact, all classes are most benefited by each living in its own sphere, and lending from that sphere a helping hand to everybody that needs it. But the argument here was, that the surrender of what was bought would be the benefit of the poor; whereas the proper use of what we have is the benefit of the poor. If every one were to wear seal-skins, like our forefathers eighteen hundred years ago in this land, what would become of all the cloth works of Leeds and of the West of England? If every lady were to wear cotton, what would become of all the silk manufactories? And yet the spirit of Judas would say, "Why wear that silk dress? Might it not be sold at a profit, and given to the poor?" The poor would not really be benefited; but the very reverse. It is only by having a correct estimate of social life, that we can see how poor, and mean, and narrow is such a remark as that which was made by a traitor, a remark of which many plagiarisms have been adopted in every age, and century, and country of the world. of the world. But Judas' remark was not genuine-it was not sincere. He said that it would have been much better if, instead of wasting it, the price of it had been put into his bag; not that he cared for the poor, but that he wanted to enrich himself. How very often have most beautiful aphorisms been made mere covers to wicked designs!

Jesus interposed; and see, how exquisitely striking is what may be called, with real reverence, the common sense that runs through the Bible! Jesus did not concur with the sentiment of