to surround himself at once with the pomp and parade of royalty. But there were many reasons why Jesus, being what he really was, should have chosen to occupy a poor and humble station. Can you think of any of them?"

"I suppose one reason was, that he might set an example of humility and self-denial to his followers."

"Yes; it was, as was everything else about him, an exemplification of his own precepts. He taught his disciples not to 'labour for the meat that perisheth,' not to lay up for themselves treasures on earth,'-to 'take the lowest place,' to deny themselves, and 'take up the cross. He could not have added and follow me,' unless he had preceded them in the same path. In fact, the value of Christ's example depended very greatly on his moving in a lowly sphere, practising the ordinary duties, and filling the common offices of every-day life. But will you mention some of the virtues which shone conspicuous in our Saviour's character?"

"I think there is nothing so wonderful as the forgiving temper he manifested," said Fanny-" his praying for his enemies while they were putting him to such torture!"

"Yes, and his meekness," said James, "when they struck him, and spit upon him. I do not see how he could bear that."

"There are so many things to say that I am puzzled which to mention first," said Fanny.

"You might name his submission to the will of his Father; his constancy and fortitude; his prayerfulness; his compassion and benevolence, and many other traits; but these you can observe in your reading. One thing I wish you to notice, however, and that is, the way in which we arrive at the knowledge of our Lord's character. You will notice, that no one of the Evangelists appears to have formed the intention of drawing a perfect character, or, in fact, any character at all. Neither of them ever calls our attention to any one of the excellent traits exhibited, or indulges himself in any remarks whatever on the circumstances he details. Each one gives his simple narrative, sometimes so briefly as to be hardly intelligible without a reference to the others; evidently relating his facts with perfect honesty and unconcern, and leaving us to draw our own inferences. Without manifesting the least anxiety as to the impression

they shall make, or seeming to be at all aware that they are relating anything extraordinary, they nevertheless give us a character absolutely without spot or blemish; a character in which the veriest malice can detect no stain or flaw; a character so lovely, so inimitable, so dignified, so sublime, as to comprise, by universal consent, all the excellences and perfections of which human nature is susceptible, in a form the most engaging, tender, and elevated."

"Mother, I should think that even infidels would have to admit that the character of Christ is perfect," said Fanny.

"They are forced to admit it, my dear," replied her mother. "Probably the most striking testimony ever borne to this point is that of the French infidel philosopher, Rousseau. It has been so often quoted as to be familiar to most readers, but may not be so to you. If you will bring me Rousseau's works from the book-case, I will read it to you."

Fanny brought the book, and her mother read as follows:

"Is it possible that he whose history the Gospel records can be but a mere man? Docs

he speak in the tone of an enthusiast, or the ambitious leader of a sect? What mildness, what purity, in his manners! what touching grace in his instructions! what elevation in his maxims! what profound wisdom in his discourses! what presence of mind! what ingenuity, and what justness, in his answers! What government of his passions! ... What prejudice, what blindness or dishonesty, is that which dares to compare the son of Sophroniscus with the son of Mary! What a difference between the two! Socrates dying without pain, without disgrace, easily sustains his part to the last; and if his death, however easy, had not crowned his life, it might have been doubted whether Socrates, with all his wisdom, was anything more than a vain sophist... The death of Socrates, peaceably philosophizing with his friends, appears the mildest that could be desired; that of Jesus, expiring in tortures, mocked, reviled, and insulted by a whole nation, is the most horrible that could be feared. Socrates, receiving the poisoned cup, blessed the executioner, who presented it in tears; Jesus, in the midst of excruciating tortures, prayed for his

rciless tormentors. Yes! if the life and

death of Socrates were those of a sage, the life and death of Jesus were those of a God!""

"Is it possible that a man can say all that, and yet remain an infidel!" said James.

“Yes, for after having said this, he adds, 'Yet I cannot believe.”

"It seems impossible, incredible!" said Fanny.

"But, perhaps, mother," suggested James, "he thought of the character of Christ only as a beautiful picture drawn by the Evangelists, and did not believe that such a person ever really existed."

"That supposition is precluded by what he goes on to say. After the passage I read to you, he adds:

"Shall we suppose the evangelic history a mere fiction? Indeed my friend, it bears not the marks of fiction;-on the contrary, the history of Socrates, which nobody presumes to doubt, is not so well attested as that of Jesus. Such a supposition, in fact, only shifts the difficulty without obviating it; for it is more inconceivable that a number of persons should agree to write such a history, than that one should be found to be the subject of it. The Jewish authors were incapable of the style of