HONORING CHRIST.

On the next day much people that were come to the feast, when they heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took branches of palm trees, and went forth to meet him, and cried, Hosanna; Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord.-John xii, 12, 13.

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SI take up the account of this enthusiastic homage rendered to the meek and lowly Redeemer, my mind reverts to another scene famous in ancient history, a scene in which there was also a great multitude, more numerous, perhaps, than was ever collected for any other purpose in any period of time. I allude to that immense host which accompanied Xerxes in his attempted conquest of Greece; a concourse gathered together from the Indies to the Lybian desert; a sea of nations rolling on in serried waves, with turbans and helmets of brass and steel, of silver and gold. Seven days and seven nights were they without intermission, and under the stimulus of the lash, in crossing the boat bridges of the Hellespont; and as those thronged ranks took up their line of march, they all moved on with exultation, and strewed branches in the path-way of their king. But what a contrast in spirit, in purpose, and in result, between that occasion of murmur

ing excitement and strewing branches, and this truly royal procession that poured down the Mount of Olives! There, a vast army, held together by the bands of military force, and moving in abject submission; here, a spontaneous multitude, kindling with the impulses of wonder and of love. That, marching to the work of terror and of desolation; this, celebrating the achievements of a healing and restoring goodness. In the midst of that concourse sits an ambitious despot, with subject nations flocking around his chariot wheels, the most gorgeous type of earthly power and glory. Here, among a rejoicing people, with eyes that had been blind, turned toward him in beaming gratitude; with tongues that had been dumb, crying hosannas to his name; with hands that once were impotent, strewing branches and garments in his path, comes the King of Israel, the Saviour of mankind, in humble raiment and wayworn sandals, riding upon an ass. Move on, magnificent monarch, flashing in haughty confidence; move on in transient pomp to miserable defeat; and move on, oh, lowly Redeemer, descending into the deep shades of humiliation and death, to march in divine might to a world-wide victory.

My friends, I have not quoted this ancient incident for the sake of the mere historical contrast, but in order that I may bring into more vivid relief the transactions recorded in the text. I do not know how I could better enforce the real character and spiritual significance of this occurrence than by placing it in

opposition to some such scene of worldly pomp and merely human ends. Let us, then, upon this morning of Palm Sunday, attend to some of the lessons which this event in the life of Jesus affords. I propose in the present discourse to draw three lessons from this transaction. First, from the incident itself; second, from the conduct of the multitude; and third, from the relations of the incident to the career of Jesus.

First, then, I say, let us consider the meaning of the incident itself, the spirit and truth which the incident expresses. While the emotion and display of this incident appear to have come from the spontaneous action of the people, we can hardly suppose the occurrence to have been accidental on the part of Jesus himself. It would seem, from the fact that he sent for the animal on which he rode, that there was some sort of understanding, some preconcerted understanding, between him and those who owned the animal; that it was an act select and deliberate on the part of Christ. It seems, then, to have been an impressive illustration of his claims as the Messiah; a deliberate typical assumption of his real dignity. His earthly mission was nearly over, and the time of his departure was at hand. He had taught his truths and accomplished his works in lowliness and humility, making his appeal only to those who had ears to hear and eyes to see, leaving it to man to believe for the very works' sake. But he did not avoid any indication of his true rank or glory that came in his way. He did not go out of his way

to declare himself the Messiah, though he avoided no rational announcement of that truth, no such indications as came practically to hand, or lay, so to speak, in his path in the providence of God and the course of his duty. And this appears to have been one of those occasions; and the circumstances of the hour which he thus deliberately selected, combined with the enthusiastic feeling upon the part of the people. With them it was an act of spontaneity. His name had gone abroad; the fame of his wondrous works had reached distant multitudes, who had come up to Jerusalem. Especially had the popular mind been stirred up by the raising of Lazarus from the dead. And now, as Jesus came riding in this manner, so symbolical of his peaceful glory, the enthusiasm of the people, bursting over all restraint, conspired, with the circumstances of the occasion, to illustrate the real character of his office. They were probably unconscious of that which afterward appeared in its clear and full propriety as a real representation of the Saviour's true dignity, as a fulfillment of prophecy. If you will look at the sixteenth verse of this very chapter, you will find it stated that, "These things understood not his disciples at the first; but when Jesus was glorified, then remembered they that these things were written of him, and that they had done these things unto him."

Therefore, in considering the grounds of this transaction, I say that it is my belief that this solemn