Such was the preaching of Messiah's heraldand we do not wonder that it shook the land, or that the people at large hailed him as a great prophet, whose voice broke the silence of centuries, and gave assurance that heaven had not utterly forsaken the earth.

THE CULMINATION AND CLOSE OF JOHN'S MINISTRY.

Whether John and Jesus ever met before the latter presented himself for baptism at the hands of the former, is not certain. The probabilities point to their acquaintance in childhood; for Jewish kindred, no farther apart than these two families, would be almost certain to keep up friendly intercourse, especially where they were so singularly and sacredly bound in a common interest by the heavenly revelations they had received. We may reasonably conclude, therefore, that in their childhood Jesus and John had met. But after John went into the wilderness-probably at an early period. in his life-it is not likely they ever came together. Each grew to manhood under his own appointed conditions, and the recollections of childhood were no longer available for mutual recognition, for all the peculiarities of childhood had been outgrown. But John had been anxiously watching for the appearance of the Messiah whose herald he was. He says expressly that he did not know him (John i. 33). The person of Jesus was not described to him. He was to know him by the descent of the Spirit upon him. Yet, when the pure Son of God, with his calm sweet face and unassuming dignity stood before him, so different in look and mien from all others, John's quick spiritual instincts at once recognized his superior worth, and in his

presence his own soul bowed under a sense of unworthiness. Doubtless John suspected that the promised Messiah stood before him, when he said, "I have need to be baptized of thee, and comest thou to me?" Yet, at the stranger's urgent demand, John led him into the Jordan and immersed him beneath its waters; "it came to pass, that Jesus also being baptized, and praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended in a bodily shape like a dove upon him; and a voice came from heaven, which said, Thou art my beloved Son; in thee I am well pleased" (Luke iii. 21, 22). "And John bare record, saying, I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it abode upon him. And I knew him not: but he that sent me to baptize in water, the same said unto me, Upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and remaining on him, the same is he which baptizeth in the Holy Ghost. And I saw, and bare record that this is the Son of God" (John i. 32-34).

This was the culminating point in John's ministry. Henceforth he pointed his disciples to the One mightier than he, bidding them to follow Him and believe in Him as "the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world." His work was perfected in thus introducing to men the Messiah "of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets, did write," divinely certified to be the Son of God. He was thus greater than all the prophets, for he personally introduced to the world the glorious personage of whom they only prophesied. His joy was now fulfilled; and he said gracefully and cheerfully, what so few of those whose work is done have the humility to see or the grace to acknowledge concerning their successors: "He must increase, but I must decrease."

It is one of the rarest things to find a public man who knows when to cease, or understands how to retire gracefully. Old preachers, whose work is done and whose powers are failing, are apt to deny stoutly and indignantly that there is any failure; and when, by virtue of their inability to meet the wants of the public, the sympathy of the multitude turns away from them to others better qualified to serve them, these old men are apt to charge on their successors the sin of drawing the people away from them, and hold these younger men responsible for that which is simply due to their own failing powers. Old age thus becomes soured, suffering under imaginary wrongs, and the evening of life, that ought to be bright with the cloudless rays of the setting sun, is darkened with clouds and made dreary with the mutterings of a stormy sky. It is a great thing to know how to retire gracefully from an honorable service; and John's example in this regard deserves to be carefully studied. When the multitude were turning to Jesus, some of John's devoted disciples undertook to excite his envy by an exhibition of their own. "And they came unto John, and said to him, Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom thou hast borne witness, behold, the same baptizeth, and all men come to him. John answered and said, A man can receive nothing, except it have been given him from heaven. Ye yourselves bear me witness that I said, I am not the Christ, but, that I am sent before him. He that hath the bride is the bridegroom but the friend of the bridegroom, which standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom's voice: this my joy therefore is fulfilled. He must increase, but I must decrease" (John iii. 26–30).

In nothing is John's high integrity more fully manifest than in this. He was superior to the mean passions of envy and jealousy. He was guilty of no dishonorable self-seeking. God gave him a work to do, and he did it, and was content. He had joy in acknowledging the immeasurable superiority of the personage whose herald he was. He aspired to no distinction beyond that of a herald. To perform his own inferior part faithfully was the fullness of his joy. We have called him. the Morning Star; and, like the morning star, after his own brief shining, bright with the promise of better things, he was content to "melt away into the light of heaven"- to be swallowed up in the overpowering light of the rising Sun of Righteous

ness.

It may be beautiful, as a token of the soul's unwillingness to even seem to fail, to witness the eagerness with which those who, either through misfortune or the decay of the physical powers, are declining in usefulness, cling to their work and their honors; but it is easy to prevert this into a ridiculous and mischievous weakness.

Mothers who have long and grandly reigned as queens in their own homes, often tenaciously cling to their sovereignty even when love seeks to relieve them of a burden all too heavy for them; and when, at last, they are forced by sheer necessity to resign the queenly scepter to the younger hands of daughter or daughterin-law, they often yield so ungracefully as to cloud the home with gloom, and poison their last years with sullenness. They know not how to say of their successors, however worthy, "They must increase, but we must decrease."