LECTURE LVIII.

CHRIST WALKING ON THE SEA.

MATTHEW xiv. 22-33. MARK vi. 45—56.

"And straightway Jesus constrained his disciples to get into a ship, and to go before him unto the other side, while he sent the multitudes away," &c.

WE might begin by observing, that there needs a special disposition, and a voluntary and earnest effort of the mind, to receive anything approaching to an adequate idea of such wonderful transactions in the history of our Lord. Persons who reflect on the state and movements of their own minds, sometimes recall a striking scene which has just been exhibited to them, in the sacred history, to think how they were affected by it at the time of reading it. And the wonder only then springs up,-a mingled wonder, partly at the thing itself, not till then duly admired, and hardly a less wonder at themselves, that they should not have been more struck and amazed by what was presented to their attention. And they become conscious, (and reproach themselves for it,) that they did not give their full and fixed attention to the wonderful object. If they proceed to ask themselves, why,-how, this could be, they may find several causes; but the chief one is a criminal one-the want of a a serious habit of mind,—and so, of the requisite sensibility and aptitude to take strong impressions of great things. A serious and religious habitude of mind is the indispensable adaptation for receiving the full impression.

But, besides this, there is required, as we said, an effort

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to bring the mind to a close and intimate contemplation of the object or the scene, an endeavour to look on it as near and as thoughtfully as possible,-to have imagined how it would have been to have actually seen and heard. It is grievous to reflect, what a difference is made by distance of time and place. When we feel assured that the thing was so, what does it, in reality, signify that it is not now, and here? When our souls can go out through all time and place, shall they, nevertheless, be so dependent on immediate impressions on the senses? The mind might surely say, "What are time, and place, and actual seeing, and hearing, to me, while I can realize within myself the important transaction, or spectacle, which the infallible testimony describes to me?"

It may, indeed, be of no material consequence whether we do this, with respect to many striking and wonderful things which are related and described to us. But, assuredly, it is of very great consequence when we come to such things as the amazing events related to us in the sacred history; and, above all, those recorded of our Lord, in his visit and sojourn upon this earth. At each wonderful event in that history, let the reader pause and ask, "What was this for, with respect to the people who beheld it? What was the feeling required in them when they witnessed it ? What feeling was it, which it was contemptible, and even wicked, for them not to have, at the time?" He can tell; and he reproaches them,-perhaps is astonished at them, if they appear not to have felt such impressions. 'Well, but then,” let him say, "how do these great events concern me? What for, does the Divine testimony bring them to me? To amuse me? or merely to fill up a little space in history? What for? They are to certify, to me, the Divine commission of Jesus Christ, to display to me the power, the goodness, the glory of the Son of God,-to

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show me what an important, what a magnificent, what an awful concern, was that of human salvation, and of mine; and that is a permanent concern, through time, and to eternity. But then, these grand events are as important now, as they were then; as important to me, as they were to the persons who lived then, and actually witnessed them. But then, again, with what manner of attention, and impression, should I now contemplate these wondrous transactions in the life, and at the death, of the Divine Redeemer."

Such reflections will bring reproach upon us, for that slightness of attention, and indifference of feeling, with which we are apt to read the wonderful events in the life of Christ; and will show, that we need be excited to an effort and exercise of mind, to realize to ourselves more distinctly, forcibly, impressively, those memorable events and transactions, when we read the account of them. We should endeavour, for the time, to constrain our utmost attention to the scene placed before us; strive to place ourselves, in thought, as if there; pointedly observe the circumstances; conceive how we might or ought to have felt, if we could have been actual witnesses; think how insensate it would have been,—what very stones we should have been if wonder had not seized us,-if instruction had not beamed into our spirits,-if love and admiration of the great Wonder-worker had not filled our minds. In such a serious effort, and not forgetting to implore the Divine influence, we should often find, that any one of the great transactions would stand displayed before us in a stronger and more instructive light, than in the too ordinary manner of their passing before us.

Let us, for a few moments, try to exemplify this in the instance of the short narration we began by reading. It is given with that unrivalled simplicity which pervades all the

evangelic history, and which was befitting the historians of Him who spake and acted in a manner quite distinct from that of any other that ever dwelt on earth. It is such a manner of relating, as leaves those who can impute contrivance, fiction, and imposture, no pretension to honesty, except at the cost of losing all pretension to perception.

Our Lord had just performed one mighty miracle, that of feeding five thousand persons with five loaves and two fishes,--a miracle in one view, of a more palpably direct, immediate, and decided character, than even the descent of the manna in the wilderness; that is to say, there was more plainly no room, if we may so express it, for the Divine agency to interpose the operation of any natural cause, as we are accustomed to call it. Not that, in the case of the manna, it is possible, in the smallest degree, to conceive of any natural cause that could intervene; but there was, at least, much more space of time for an operation on the material elements, and the effect was not wrought so directly under human observation. Here, in the case of our Lord's miracle, the fact was, plainly, under the immediate sight of a vast multitude of people, that a certain small quantity of bread and fish was, within one hour, an immensely greater quantity. This done, the multitudes were sent away.

Now, after such a transaction, how long, would it be thought, might the performer of such amazing works intermit, and, as it were, repose from, his mighty operations ? Beholding him as a man, amidst this stupendous agency, we might have had a transient feeling as if he should subside, for a while, into quiescence,-take some time to enjoy, for a space, the glory and the triumph, and receive, in a dignified inactivity, the honours due from the people, as the performers of grand worldly exploits did. But no; we feel no surprise, to see him, a few hours afterwards, giving another display of his sublime power, in a quite different manner.

Reflect, here, what a tribute we involuntarily pay, (and, indeed, too often without consideration,) to his peculiar and glorious character. We take it as all in but right order, quite natural, and almost of course, that he should perform prodigies of superhuman power, almost as the ordinary course of his action. We never think of him as rising above himself in these mighty achievements, and then subsiding down to the level of mortality and humanity, till a mighty power should come on him again, to raise him to meet some great and extraordinary occasion. We never think of him as needing to make his grand performances rare, to give them an interval to collect the due admiration. Whence is this, but that we have a settled estimate, or, at least, impression of his character, as entirely different from that of any other visitant on earth, and transcendently superior? But here comes a perversity of our minds,-namely, that we regard these astonishing works, in their crowded frequency, as so proper for him to do, and so easily and familiarly within his power, that we do not duly feel how marvellous they are. How ill-conditioned is the human spirit! If his mighty works had been but few, the sentiment would have been, that it had become such a being as the Messiah was predicted, and professed, to be, and come to the world on so awful and sublime a purpose, to have performed many more. But, on the contrary, they crowd upon us in rapid succession, and then,-they are only so appropriate to him and his grand office,—so natural, so much of course for him to perform, that we are the less sensible how wonderful they are in themselves! We want to see the energy of agonizing difficulty, and the pomp of display, to excite our admiration. But we are diverting from our immediate subject.

In the evening, the multitudes went away, and he constrained his disciples to enter into a ship to cross the Lake.