The fire-brands of Jerusalem had wellnigh kindled to a flame of themselves, amid the tumult of the people, when they cried out—“Away with him! Crucify him! His blood be on us, and on our children!” O wonder of mercy! that they were not seized and consumed at once by fire from heaven! But he whom they crucify prays for them, and they are spared. Hear his intercession:—“Father, forgive them! Save these sinners, ready for the fire. On me, on me alone, be the fierceness of thy indignation. I am ready to drink the cup which thou hast mingled. I am willing to fall beneath the stroke of thy angry justice. I come to suffer for the guilty. Bind me in their stead, lay me upon the altar, and send down fire to consume the sacrifice!” It was done. I heard a great voice from heaven:—“Awake, O sword, against my shepherd! Kindle the flame! Let off the artillery!” Night suddenly enveloped the earth. Nature trembled around me. I heard the rending of the rocks. I looked, and lo! the stroke had fallen upon the high tree, and the green tree was all on fire! While I gazed, I heard a voice, mournful, but strangely sweet:—“My God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me? My heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels. My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws. One may tell all my bones. Dogs have compassed me about; strong bulls of Bashan have beset me. They stare at me; they gape upon me with their mouths; they pierce my hands and my feet. Deliver my soul from the lions; my darling from the power of the dogs!” “It is finished!” O with what majestic sweetness fell that voice upon my soul! Instantly the clouds were scattered. I looked, and saw, with unspeakable wonder, millions of the low trees shooting up, and millions of the dry trees putting forth leaves and fruit. Then I took my harp, and sang this song:—“Worthy is the Lamb! for he was humbled that we might be exalted; he was wounded that we might be healed; he was robbed that we might be enriched; he was slain that we might live!” Then I saw the beam of a great scale; one end descending to the abyss, borne down by the power of the atonement; the other ascending to the heaven of heavens, and lifting up the prisoners of the tomb. Wonderful scheme! Christ condemned for our justification; forsaken of his Father, that we might enjoy his fellowship; passing under the curse of the law, to bear it away from the believer forever! This is the great scale of redemption. As one end of the beam falls under the load of our sins, which were laid on Christ; the other rises, bearing the basket of mercy, full of pardons, and blessings, and hopes. “He who knew no sin was made sin for us”—that is his end of the beam; “that we might be made the righteousness of God in him”—this is ours. “Though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor”—there goes his end down; “that we, through his poverty, might be rich”—here comes ours up.