own business; you did the work, and took the pay, and we have no feeling of pity for you; we regard you as a wretched tool, for whom we have the utmost contempt. Judas, stung with despair, died a suicide, and went "to his own place."

Christ at the Last Supper.

Matthew xxvi. 20-30; Mark xiv. 17-26; Luke xxii. 14-20; John xiii.

O scene surpasses in tenderness, in pathos, or in practical instruction, that presented on the occasion

of the first communion on earth. Jesus then merged his own deep sense of agony and awful expectations of the next day in sympathy with his own, and provision for their joy and refreshment in all generations. He sat down with the twelvetheir elder brother, their Redeemer, and their Lordon that night on which He was betrayed. He took bread, the universal element of bodily nourishment,

most likely to be found wherever man lived or travelled; the more suitable for a sublime ordinance, because the most simple; fitted best for a universal rite, because found everywhere, and necessary alike for prince and peasant; and this He consecrated for our instruction, enjoyment, and visible dedication to his person, and service, and glory. He has consecrated every loaf used in every sanctuary for this sacred rite. The words of institution because his are its consecration; while the prayers of the presiding minister are lifted up for blessings on the communicants, observing the solemn

sacrament and devoting themselves therein, soul, body, and spirit, in the face of the Church and the world to the service of Him who loved them and washed them in his blood, and made them priests and kings to God, even the Father. He also took the cup and gave it to them, to remind them to the end of the world that their faith and hope rest on sacrifice; that without shedding of blood is no remission of sins; that in his death all ancient sacrifices were exhausted, and that no expiatory offering on our part is needed, or possible. The Lord's supper is not an atonement; but a rite commemorative of a perfect and infinite atonement that endures no supplement and defies all repetition. It is observed "in remembrance of Me." Memory relates to the absent. Christ, therefore, in his person as God manifest in the flesh is not present. The heavens must contain Him till the times of the restitution of all things. It was bread that He blessed; it is bread that we eat; it is bread that remains. It is a sign, not substance; a reminiscence, not a real bodily presence; a sacrament, and, therefore, not a sacrifice. A sacrament is something God gives; a sacrifice is something man offers. It is called the eucharist, because it is the scene and place in which we offer up special thanksgiving for the mercies of redeeming love; the communion, because it is the union of believers, and their communion with Christ, and with one another; the supper, because Christ, our passover, being sacrificed for us, we keep the feast; a sacrament, because we then publicly renew our oath of loyalty and allegiance to Him who is King of saints.

The form or ritual may vary-the substance is unmistakeable. Some kneel, some stand, and others sit; but all do it as in remembrance of Christ, their common Lord, and sacrifice, and Saviour.

It is that table around which we gather as Christians. Episcopalians, and Presbyterians, and Congregationalists, are all excluded, and Christians alone are welcome there. It is the family festival of

Christendom at which we merge all that is peculiar, and glory only in that which is common to all. It is on earth the nearest approximation to that which is in heaven. It is the imperfect, but real picture of the scene witnessed from Patmos. "These are they that came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb, and, therefore, stand before the throne of God and the Lamb." It is not the shibboleth of a sect, but the voice of Christianity; it is not the distinctive rite of a denomination, but the mark of the children of God. Here "Christ is all and in all." With the martyrs of the sixteenth century it cries aloud, "None but Christ, none but Christ!" How often it may be celebrated is left unsettled. On all essential things the Word of God is clear, decided, and emphatic; on all ceremonial and nonessential things it permits the greatest latitude. The maxim of the ancient Father admirably expresses the spirit of Christianity. “In essential things unity, in non-essential things liberty, in all things charity." The truths about which all Christians agree are weighty, glorious, and eternal; the things about which Christians differ are mean and transient. Let us, therefore, think less of our denominational differences, and more of our common faith.

Faith, as far as it is miraculous, has ceased, and will one day in all its aspects pass into fruition; hope will one day be absorbed in having; but love will endure for ever. It was at this feast that. Jesus said, "By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another." How beautiful is that badge! You know a king by his crown, a noble by his coronet, a priest by his robe, a monk by his cowl. How do you know a Christian? Not by an outer badge, but by his inner spirit. "By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love one another." The badge of Christianity, therefore, is neither a cross, nor a regal diadem, nos a shaven crown, nor a cowl, nor a hood; but love within, illustrating its force in the life without.