hangs in his own halls the sword, the shield, the banner, borne from the foc in battle. David gave the glory where it was due, and in the tabernacle of his God hung Goliah's sword, and by that act most emphatically said, "Not unto me, O Lord, not unto me, but unto thee, be the praise and the glory." Nor does Paul ever forget to give the glory where it is due, and to teach us that he who glorieth should glory in the Lord. In telling us what Christ is made to his people, he first tells us how he is made so; "of God," says he, "He is made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption."

room.

I. It is of God that Christ is made to us what he is. The gratitude that is due to the Son is no less due to the Father; for Christ did not only give himself, but his Father gave him. And what Abraham said to Isaac God would do, when, in their ascent to the summit of Moriah, his son asked him, "My father, behold the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt-offering?" God has done. That question went like a knife to the father's heart-it touched him to the quick; and yet, in the greatness of his faith, he answered, "My son, God will provide himself with a burnt-offering ;" and so he did. And that victim, caught by its horns in the thicket, and laid on the altar from which Isaac was unbound, bled and died an emblem of the offering which God, in mercy, substituted in the room of man. Abraham unbound his son, and with the blood of a meaner victim dyed the knife of sacrifice; but how, on Calvary, was the process reversed! God loosed the mean victim, and placed a nobler one in its God unbound the sinner-the rebel-the vile, worthless, hell-deserving wretch, and bound not an angel, nor an archangel, nor a cherub, nor a seraph there; he had one Son, one only-begotten and well-beloved Son, and him he bound, there to bleed for you and me! "He spared not his own Son." "He commended his love to us, in that while we were sinners, he gave up his Son to die for us; and therefore, as the gift-the matchless, melting, marvellous gift-of God, it is of God that "Christ is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption." But there is another sense in which it is of God, Christ is made so. He that kindles the sun, that created the eye to see it he that showered the manna on the desert sands-gave the appetite to desire, the taste to relish, and the power to digest it; and he not only in his Son provides a Saviour, but gives also in faith that power of receiving him, without which, Christ is to us neither wisdom, nor righteousness, nor sanctification, nor redemption. In place of redemption to many Christ shall become condemnation, and from that face, to his saints so lovely, they shall turn away their eyes in horror, and cry to the rocks, to give them a friendly burial;-in place of wisdom to some, Christ is foolishness; while some from the valley look up to the cross, others from the elevation of their own fancied righteousness look down upon it, and turn away from the stream of

blood that flows from the fountains of Christ's wounded hands, and head, and feet, with those feelings which prompted the Syrian to say, as he turned his back on Jordan, "are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel." And to some instead of righteousness, Christ is a rock of offence. I never saw the beggar shivering in a winter's day, but he would gladly exchange his own foul rags for better and more decent attire; but the poor sinner clings to his own foul, filthy rags; nor will he be unclothed that he may be clothed upon. And why is Christ not thus rejected by all? why do some see in his cross the wisdom, and feel in it the power of God? why is he whom others refuse to take for the offering, so precious, that in place of not taking him without money, they would give all the world for Christ, and are willing to count father and mother, the wife of their bosom, the fruit of their body, their money, their characters, their liberty, their life itself, they are willing to count them all loss for him, and, as one said, through a very sea of fire to swim to Jesus,-this is not of man, nor of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, but of God; it is the Spirit that thus sweetly draws them; it is of God, and God's grace that he is made to us what he is, the giving Christ is the Father's, and the drawing to Christ is the Father's too; and thus it is that the only Saviour who is to the Jew a stumbling-block, and to the Greek foolishness, is to them that are called, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.

II. Christ is made unto us wisdom because it is through him that the Divine character is made known to men.-" Righteous Father," said our Saviour, "the world hath not known thee, but I have known thee; and they have known that thou hast sent me; and I have declared unto them thy name, and I will declare it." "For God," says the apostle, "who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined into our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ." And where is there seen so much of God as in that blessed face, in the character, and suffering, and work, and offices of Christ? In that single book there is more made known of God, than in all books beside-in yon single cross there is a brighter and fuller manifestation of the Godhead, than in all his other works; and the peasant who has read his Bible, and read nothing else, knows a thousand times more of God, has more sublime, and just, and ennobling conceptions of the Divine character, than all the wisest and most accomplished sages of antiquity. Sin hung a dark thick veil between earth and heaven, God and man, and by the hands of Christ this veil has been rent in twain, the curtains have been drawn aside, and God hitherto unknown has been plainly revealed in him, and in his work; and in respect of his word, the vision of John has been fulfilled. John saw God sitting on his throne, and in his right hand he saw a book; the book was written within, but sealed without, with seven seals; proclamation was

made, "Who is worthy to open the book and loose the seals thereof?" it rung through heaven, it sounded on earth, and was echoed back from hell, but no answer came, no man in heaven, nor on earth, nor under the earth, was found worthy to open the book; and John began to weep, "Weep not," said an elder, "Behold the lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, hath prevailed to open the book, and to loose the seven seals thereof." He advanced, he took the volume from the right hand of God, he broke the seals; and this book, written in heaven, for all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and unsealed upon the cross, for it bears the mark of a bloody hand, and it was by his sufferings that he prevailed to open it, this open little book which John saw the angel bring down from heaven, we owe to Christ. Sprinkled with his blood, the spell that bound it was dissolved; and by the same death he broke at once the seal of the grave and the seals that closed the book of the revelation of the nature and the knowledge of God. He hath revealed the Father, revealed him in his word, revealed him in his character, revealed him on his cross, and been made unto his people the highest wisdom according to his saying to Philip, " Philip, he that hath seen me, hath seen the Father also."

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III. Christ is made wisdom to us because through him the way of salvation is made known. To know how to be saved is the highest wisdom, and till we have known that, other wisdom is only folly, and not only is much study a weariness of the flesh, but a waste of precious time. And, though it may be a nobler pursuit to acquire knowledge, than amass the gold that perisheth, still no philosophy will teach how to quench yon everlasting fire any more than gold will buy a seat in heaven; and it is just as true of the dying philosopher as of the dying miser, that he has laboured in vain, and spent his strength for nought; and that as the soul goes shrieking into a lost eternity, on the discoveries of the one, as well as on the coffers of the other, truth writes this stern and solemn sentence, Vanity, vanity, all is vanity. Just as the first book a man should read in the morning, is his Bible; the first thing a man should learn to be is a Christian; the first school he should go to is the school of Christ, then let him learn to be a statesman, a man of letters, or a man of science;-let him but learn to be wise for the world where he is to be for ever, and then he may set himself to study the stars that shine above, and the flowers that bloom around his path, and those mountains, and seas, and sun, and elements which themselves shall pass away to give place to a new and better heaven, and a new and better earth. They tell of a celebrated philosopher, who was so engrossed with the pursuit of knowledge, whose eyes and ears, and mind, were so shut to all that passed around him, that the city which he had defended by his skill was taken, the battle roared in the streets, and the enemy had entered his very chamber, and their swords were at his breast; and he just awoke from his

reverie in time to die. And what was this philosopher but a fool? His study then ought to have been how to escape. The wisdom of highest value in a tempest, is how to steer and trim the reeling ship; in a parched and pathless desert, is to know the way to the water springs; in a city of the plague, is to know how to cure the mortal pestilence; and to a poor perishing sinner, is to know what he shall do to be saved. If my house is on fire, if the flames are flashing in my eye, and roaring in my ear, and the floor is burning hot beneath my feet; what I am then to study is not the nature of the element, but how to escape its devouring flames. If my bark is tossing on the stormy sea, what I am to study is not the philosophy of storms, the laws that rule the tides, or raise those mountain billows that have swept bulwark and boat away, my eye is to be on the beacon light, my hand upon the helm, and my study, till my bark rides on smoother waters, how to make yon harbour, and escape a watery grave. These are in temporal things, but a repetition of that greatest question that man ever asked of man that scholar ever asked of master, "What shall do to be saved?" Ignorant of that, we are ignorant of what it is most needful to know. If we know that, it matters little what we are ignorant of; if ignorant of that, it matters little what we know. And never did important question receive a plainer or more pointed answer, than when Paul turned him to the trembling jailor, and showing him the cross, replied, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved."

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"Christ is made unto us wisdom," because he has opened and showed us the way of life; and, moreover, "made unto his people wisdom," because he gives them the wisdom to take it; and, what is better than being made wise to science, wise to letters, wise to books, or wise to the world

makes them "wise unto salvation." In all the world, there is no fool like a sinner; in all its asylums of raging, laughing, moping madness, there is no madman like him. To live in this world as if he were to live here for ever-to tread the grave as if he were never to lie in it—is there wisdom there? The horse may rush on the battle spears he is a brute; but for a man, a reasonable man, to rush on the bosses of Jehovah's buckleris there wisdom there? The insect spins round the candle, till, as in nearing circles it wheels by the fire, it scorches its silken wings, and drops into the flame; but for a man, in the round of his sin, to wheel round the fire of hell-is there wisdom there? To cling by a sinking ship, and bid the men in the life-boat go-to toss away the rope flung from the bank to save him;-in the face of an insulted and injured sovereign, when the hammer is sounding on the gallows tree, to fling his offered pardon-for the indulgence of a monent, to peril all eternity;-I say, if a man were to do with his money, his estate, his body, his life, what many a man does with his soul, the world would set him down as wholly bereft of reason. Let me ask, brethren, has Christ been

ardently enlisted on the side of the Covenanters at the battle of Kilsyth, in 1645. On that disastrous day, Captain Paton acquitted himself with the most exemplary valour; and when the Covenanters were completely defeated, by Montrose, and forced to retreat, he encountered in his flight various bands of the enemy, whom he succeeded in so far intimidating, that he escaped uninjured beyond the reach of pursuit. Of the Covenanters above four thousand were killed on the spot, and their cause seemed to have received its deathblow. The Almighty, however, had better things in reserve for his persecuted remnant. General Leslie was detached from the army in England, and marched into Scotland to relieve the distressed sons of the Covenant. Montrose proudly advanced to meet him; and at Philiphaugh a desperate conflict ensued, which terminated in the triumph of the Covenanters, and the flight and ultimate execution of their deadly foe. Matters having now assumed a more favourable aspect for the Presbyterian party, Captain Paton returned home to Fenwick, with his friend and pastor Mr William Guthrie.

On different occasions the Captain found it necessary to take up arms in defence of the party whose principles he had espoused; and to his prowess the Presbyterians in Ayrshire were deeply indebted. And when Charles the First was beheaded, and Charles the Second pretended to espouse the cause of the Covenant in Scotland, Captain Paton joined the army which was raised in that country, to defend the Monarch and his kingdom against the usurpation of Cromwell. He entered England with Charles and the Scotch army, and was present at the battle of Worcester, which proved so fatal to the cause of the Monarch-dispersing his army, and sending him to wander as a fugitive on a foreign shore. Thus unsuccessful in their expedition, the Scotch army returned home; and Captain Paton, laying aside for a time the habiliments of a soldier, resumed his former avocations. Having rented the farm of Meadow-Head, on which he was born, he entered into the married state. His private and domestic character were truly exemplary. He was faithful in attendance upon divine ordinances, under the ministry of Mr William Guthrie, by whom he was persuaded to accept the office of an elder. This honourable office he filled, with great activity and usefulness, until, by the tyranny of the profligate Charles, the worthy minister of Fenwick was driven from his charge, and the yoke of Episcopacy was bound round the necks of an unwilling people by the powerful arm of law. It was now that Scotland rose as one man, and Captain Paton felt himself compelled once more to take the field in defence of the rights and liberties of his oppressed countrymen. Advancing at the head of a party of horse from Loudon, Fenwick, and other places in Ayrshire, he joined the Presbyterian army, who had collected to the number of two thousand men, and, proceeding to Lanark, they renewed the Covenant, and published a manifesto, in which they acknowledged their submission to the King, and demanded the reestablishment of the Presbyterian system and the reinstatement of the ejected ministers. Dalziel took the field to oppose them; and at length, although the army of the Covenanters had been reduced on their journey to scarcely a thousand men, they came to an engage

ment at Rullion-Green, in the immediate neighbourhood of the Pentland hills.

In the battle of Rullion-Green Captain Paton behaved with marked gallantry and courage. Dalziel, who knew sufficiently the singular prowess of the Captain, resolved personally to encounter him, thinking to take him prisoner. He advanced accordingly, and the pistols of each were discharged. Dalziel, however, was clad in mail, and the ball, which would have killed him, fell at his feet. On seeing this, Captain Paton suspecting the cause, took from his pocket some pieces of silver, which he had there for the purpose, and put one of them into his other pistol. This was not unobserved by Dalziel, who instantly retreated behind a soldier, and thus escaped being slain. The party which Paton headed were surrounded, and with the utmost dexterity he forced his way through the enemy, and although, by the command of Dalziel, he was closely pursued, he reached home in safety.

The advantage which the enemies of the Presbyterian cause gained in the rising at Pentland, encouraged them to treat the Covenanters with still greater severity than before. Taking refuge in the hills and fastnesses, they hid themselves from the fury of their persecutors. Captain Paton, like the rest of the oppressed remnant, was often compelled to leave his home on hearing of the approach of the enemy, and to seek shelter in the dens and caves of the earth. In these troublous times he and his friends were often to be seen in the open fields, or on some remote hill-side, worshipping the God of their fathers. With the sword in one hand, and the Bible in the other, they stood listening with the most insatiable eagerness to those blessed truths, for the maintenance of which they were ready to pour out their very heart's blood. These field-meetings, however, did not escape the notice of the enemy. Claverhouse and his bloody emissaries were despatched in all directions to scour the country. The Covenanters, men of stern resolution, and of indomitable zeal, encouraged by the victory which they gained at Drumclog, roused themselves anew to fight the battles of their country and their God. Their army, particularly in the west of Scotland, became strong and numerous; and among others, Captain Paton was vigorous and successful in collecting recruits for the good cause. Backed by a large body of horsemen from Fenwick and Galston, he joined the main body of the troops, and fought bravely in the famous battle of Bothwell-bridge, in which the intrepid heroes of the Covenant were unhappily defeated. That we may discern rightly the pure and scriptural motives by which the Covenanters were animated in thus contending, even unto death, we may quote the published declaration of one who was present, and took a part in the engagement at Bothwellbridge. Speaking of the battle fought on that fatal day, John Stevenson remarks:

"I am not ashamed to own I was there; and do declare it was not a spirit of rebellion against the king and government that took me there, as that rising up is slanderously reported by many. That which moved us to join together, yea appear in arms, was the necessary defence of our lives, liberties, and religion; for it is well known how the enemies of God, and the enemies of our holy religion, did cut up the people as bread, and called not on his name; and wherever they met with honest ministers or private Christians, they either shot