sought to "entrap Him in His speech," "laying wait for Him, and seeking to catch something out of His mouth, that they might accuse Him."
Yet amid all this mad and relentless opposition, He toiled on, still doing good, and conferring blessings mental or physical, wherever any were found willing to receive it. All this violence and persecution only called forth utterances of pity, pity and sorrowing tenderness. "Jerusalem, Jerusalem," He said, "thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate."—"And when He was come near," says another Evangelist, "He beheld the city, and wept over it; saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace!—but now they are hid from thine eyes." How touching! to behold, thus, the Saviour weeping over man! Yet is it strange,—when we consider the Lord's knowledge of a bad man's lot. His foreknowledge of his eternal lot? God looks down on heaven, earth, and hell, He knows perfectly the joys, the exquisite delights of the first of these states, and the miseries of the last. He sees the happy angels—"the spirits of just men made perfect"—rejoicing together in full and blessed happiness—their hearts overflowing with love and joy—and beholding at the same time all beautiful and charming things around them, answering to the blessed state within them—basking in the sunbeams and sweet airs of heaven. Down, down, His eye penetrates into the
