fubject, would lead me into a much longer difcuffion than the nature of this difcourfe will admit. I fhall therefore only obferve further, that whoever reads with attention this first institution of the Lord's Supper, whoever reflects that it was the very last meal that our Lord ate with his disciples that the next day he underwent for our fakes a most excruciating and ignominious death, and that he requires us to receive this facrament in remembrance of him; whoever, I fay, can, notwithstanding all this, difobey the last command of his dying Redeemer, must be deftitute, not only of all the devout fentiments of a Chriftian, but of all the honeft feelings of a man.

After having thus kept the paffover for the last time, our Lord and his apoftles fung a hymn, as was usual with the Jews after their repafts; and the hymn they fung on this occafion was probably what they called the Pafchal Pfalms, from the 113th to the 118th, in which the difciples, accustomed to that recital, readily joined. They then went out into the mount of Olives; and as they were going, Jefus faith unto them, "All ye fhall be offended because of me this night: for it is written, I will fmite the fhepherd, and the sheep of the flock fhall be scattered abroad. But after I am rifen again, I will go before you into Galilec." This was a prophetic warning to the difciples, that they would all be terrified by the dangers that awaited him, and would defert and virtually renounce him that very night. The words here quoted, "I will fmite the fhepherd, and the fheep of the flock fhall be fcattered abroad," are from the thirteenth chapter of Zechariah. But to confole and fupport them under this trial, our Lord affures them that he would rife again from the dead, and after his refurrection he would meet them at a certain place he appointed in Galilee. The apoftles, as we may easily imagine, were greatly hurt at this admonitory prediction of our Lord, and protefted that they would never forfake him. But St. Peter more particularly, who, from the ardour of his difpofition, was always more forward in his profeffions, and more indignant at the flightest reflection on his character, than any of the reft, immediately cried out with warmth and eagernefs, Though all men should be offended because of thee, yet

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will I never be offended." But Jefus, who knew him much better than he did himself, faid unto him "Verily I fay unto you, that this night before the cock crow (that is, before three in the morning) thou fhalt deny me thrice." Peter, ftill confident of his own integrity and fincere attachment to his divine Master, and ignorant of the weakness of human nature at the approach of danger, replied, with ftill greater vehemence, "Though I fhould die with thee, yet will I not deny thee;" and the rest of the disciples joined with him in these earnest protestations of inviolable fidelity. How far they were verified by the event we shall foon fee.

We are now arrived at a very awful and fomewhat mysterious part of our Saviour's history, his agony in the garden, which is next related to us by St. Matthew.

"Then cometh Jefus, fays the evangelift, with them to a place called Gethsemane, a rich valley near the mount of Olives, through which ran the brook Cedron, and on this fide was a garden, into which Jefus entered. And he said unto his disciples, Sit ye here (at the entrance probably of the garden) while I go and pray yonder. And he took with him, into a more retired part of the garden, Peter, and the two fons of Zebedee, James and John, the very fame disciples who accompanied him at his transfiguration; that they who had been witneffes of his glory might be witnesses also of his humiliation and affliction. Then faith he unto them, My foul is exceeding forrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me. And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, faying, O my Father, if it be poffible (that is, if it be poffible for man to be faved, and thy glory promoted as effectually in any other way as by my death) let this cup, this bitter cup of affliction, pafs from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt. And he cometh unto his difciples, and findeth them asleep, and faith unto Peter, What, could ye not watch with me one hour? you who fo lately made fuch vehement profeffions of attachment to me! Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation." Ye have need to watch and pray for your own fakes, as well as mine, that you may not be

overcome by the fevere trials that await you, nor be tempted to defert me. Yet at the fame moment, feeling for the infirmity of human nature, he adds, "the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." That is, I know your hearts are right, and your intentions good; but the weakness of your frail nature overpowers your beft refolutions, "and the thing which ye would ye do not." "He went away again the fecond time, and prayed, faying, O my Father, if this cup may not pafs away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done. And he came and found them asleep again, for their eyes were heavy. And he left them, and went away again, and prayed the third time, faying the fame words. Then cometh he to his difciples, and faith unto them, Sleep on now and take your reft: behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of finners. Rife, let us be going: behold, he is at hand that doth betray me." That is, henceforth, hereafter (for fo the original ftrictly means) you may take your reft; your watching can be of no further ufe to me: my trial is over, my agony is fubdued, and my deftiny determined. I fhall foon be betrayed into the hands of finners. Arise, therefore, let us go and meet this danger. Behold, he that betrayeth me is at hand.

This is the account given us of what is called our Saviour's agony in the garden; in the nature and circumftances of which there is certainly fomething "difficult to be understood;" but it is at the fame time pregnant with inftruction and confolation to every difciple of Christ.

We may obferve in the first place that the terror and diftrefs of our Lord's mind on this occafion feems to have been extreme, and the agony he endured in the highest degree poignant and acute. He is faid here to be " exceeding forrowful, even unto death." St. Mark adds, that he was "fore amazed and very heavy*;” and St. Luke tells us, that " being in agony he prayed more earneftly; and his fweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground+." To what cause + Ch. xxii. 44.

* Ch. xiv. 33.

could thefe uncommonly painful fenfations be owing? There is great reason to believe that they could not arise folely from the fear of death, or of the torments and the ignominy he was about to undergo; for many great and good men, many of the primitive martyrs for inftance, and of our first reformers, have met death and tortures without feeling, at least without expreffing, fuch exceffive terrors of mind as these.

But it should be confidered, that befides the apprehenfions of a death in the highest degree excruciating and difgraceful, to which in his human nature he would be as liable as any other perfon, there were feveral circumftances peculiar to himself, which might exceedingly embitter his feelings-d exafperate his fufferings.

In the fireplace, from the foreknowledge of every thing that could befal him, he would have a quicker fenfe and a keener perception of the torments he was to undergo, than any other perfon could poffibly have, from the anticipation of future fufferings.

In the next place, the complicated miferies which he knew that his death would bring upon his country, for which he manifefted the tendereft concern; the distress in which it would plunge a mother and a friend that were infinitely dear to him; and the cruel perfecutions and afflictions of various kinds, to which he forefaw that the first propagation of his religion world expofe his beloved disciples; all these confiderations operating on a mind of fuch exquifite fenfibility as his, must make a deep and painful impreffion, and add many a bitter pang to the anguifh, which preyed upon his foul. Nor is it at all improbable, that his great enemy and ours, the prince of darkness, whom he came to overthrow, and with whom he maintained a constant conflict through life, and triumphed over by his death; it is not I fay, at all improbable, that this malignant Being should exes his utmost power, by presenting real and raifing up imaginary ter rors, to fhake the conftancy of his foul, and deter him from the great work he had undertaken. These, and a multitude of other agonizing distresses, unknown and in

conceivable to us, which might neceffarily fpring from fo vast, so momentous, fo ftupendous a work, as the falvation of a whole world, make a plain distinction between our Saviour's fituation and that of any other martyr to the cause of truth, and moft clearly prove that there never was "a forrow in every respect like unto his forrow*." It is evident, indeed, that there was fome other cause of his agony besides that of his approaching death: for it is faid in the Epistle to the Hebrews, that he was heard in that he feared; that is, was delivered from the terrors that oppressed him; and yet we know he was not delivered from the death of the cross.

And it should be observed in the laft place, that notwithstanding his temporary agonies of mind, notwithftanding he was "fore amazed and exceeding forrowful, even unto death;" nothwithstanding he prayed most earnestly and fervently" that the bitter cup of affliction might, if poffible, pafs away from him ;" yet, upon the final refult, he manifested the utmost firmness and fortitude of foul and the conftant termination of his prayer was, not my will but thine be done. He fubmitted with the most perfect refignation to thofe very calamities which he felt fo acutely, and deprecated fo earnestly; and went out from the garden to meet the dangers that approached him with that noble and dignified addrefs to his flumbering disciples, "Rife, let us be going: behold, he is at hand that doth betray me." It is evident then that this remarkable incident in the history of our Lord, which has given occafion to fo much unfounded and idle cavil, instead of lowering his character in the flightest degree, adds fresh luftre to it, and encreases our veneration for his exalted virtues.

And what is of no lefs importance, it prefents to us instructions the moft edifying, and reflections the most confolatory to the weakness of our nature.

We fee in the first place, that our Lord did not pretend to that unfeeling heroifm, that total infenfibility to pain and affliction, which fome of the ancient philofophers af