“Blessed are the poor in spirit:” and behold Him at the opening of this first seal, poor and of no reputation.
“Blessed are they that mourn:” and this second seal displays Him offering up prayers for us, “with strong crying and tears.”
“Blessed are the meek:” and we see Him meek and lowly of heart, before the judgment-seat answering not a word.
“Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness:” this fourth seal exhibits Him whose meat it was to do the will of Him that sent Him, and who on the cross could still cry, “I thirst,” in the consuming thirst for the salvation of our souls.
“Blessed are the merciful:” and “His mercy is over all His works.”
“Blessed are the pure in heart:” and who was purer than the Virgin Son of the Virgin Mother?
And the seventh seal opens with: “Blessed are the peacemakers;” showing us Christ who made “peace by the blood of His cross” between Jew and Gentile, between God and man.
Every sermon preached since that mighty discourse, which opened the life of Christ to man, what has it been, but a turning over of leaf after leaf in that most mysterious book?
There is something very striking in the accidents of that first sermon, that fountain whence every rill of sacred eloquence has flowed to water the whole earth; delivered, not in the gloom of the temple, in the shadow of the ponderous roof, like, the burden of the law to weigh it down, but in the open air, free and elastic like
