that has gone from me, an innocent child, or one clothed with every lovely virtue, one whom Jesus loved as he loved the dear brother in Bethany; to what joys unspeakable has that being gone! In the bosom of God, in the bosom of infinite love, all with him is well. Could that departed one speak to us, that lovely and loving one, invested with the radiance and surrounded with the bliss of some heavenly land; would not the language be—"mourn not for me, or mourn not as having no hope. Dishonour not the good and blessed One, my Father and your Father, by any distrust or doubt. Mourn for me, remember me, as I too remember you, long for you; but mourn with humble patience and calm sustaining faith."

How is it with us, my brethren, in this world? and what, in contemplation of death, would we say to those that we shall leave behind us? "Grieve not for me," would not one say?—or "grieve not too much, when I am gone. I cannot bear that you should suffer that awful agony, that desolating sorrow, that is often seen in the house of mourning. Remembered I would be; oh! let me have a memorial in some living, affectionate hearts! I would never be forgotten; I would never have it felt that the tie with me is broken but let the memory of me be calm, patient, sacred, gently sorrowing if need be, but yet ever partaking of the blessedness of that love which death cannot quench. Let not my name gather about it an awfulness or a sacredness, such that it may not be uttered in the places where I have lived; or if in the sanctuary where it is kept, there is a delicacy that forbids the easy utterance of it, still let it not be invested with gloom and sadness. Think of me when I am gore, as one who thought much on death; who had thoughts of it, more and greater than he could in the

ordinary goings on of life, find fit occasion to utter. If you could wish that I had said more to you, on this and many other themes, yet give the confidence, that you must ask, for that secret world within us all, that world of a thousand tender thoughts and feelings, for which language has no expression. Think of me as still possessing those thoughts and feelings, as still the same to you, as one that loves you still; for death shall not destroy in us, that image of Christ, a pure and holy love. If I retain my consciousness, I must still think of you; with more than all the love I ever felt; it cannot be otherwise. And if I am to sleep till the resurrection, though my hope is far different: believing in Jesus, my hope is that I am already of the Resurrection; yet if it be so, that God has ordained that pause in my existence, it is surely for a wise purpose; it is doubtless best for me; and to the ever good and blessed will of God, I calmly and humbly submit myself: to that ever gracious will, I pray you to be patiently and cheerfully resigned. How much better is it than your will or mine! What boundless good may we not expect, from an Infinite Will, prompted by an Infinite Love! Lift up your lowly thoughts to this lift them up to the heavenly regions, to the boundless universe, to the all-embracing eternity; and in these contemplations lose the too keen sense of this breathing hour of time, of this world of dust and shadows-and of brightness and beauty, too: for all is good; all in earth and in heaven, in time and eternity, is good."

Thus, I conceive, might a wise and good man, about to depart from this life, speak to those whom he was to leave behind him. And thus might those who have died in infant innocence; thus might angel-children speak from some brighter sphere. And if it were wis

dom thus to speak, then let that wisdom sink into our hearts, and bring there its consolation. Perfect relief from suffering it cannot bring; sorrow we may, we must; many and bitter pains must we bear in this mortal lot; Jesus wept over such pains, and we may weep over them; but let us be wise; let us be trustful; let the love of God fill our hearts;

let the hea

venly consolation help us, all that it can. It can help us much. It is not mere breath of words to say that God is good, that all is right, all is well; all that concerns us is the care of Infinite Love. It is not a mere religious common-place, to say that submission, trust, love can help us. More than eye ever saw or the ear ever heard, or the worldly heart ever conceived, can a deep, humble, child-like, loving piety bring help and comfort in the hours of mortal sorrow and bitterness. Believest thou this? This was our Saviour's question to Martha, in her distress. "He that believeth on me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And he that lieveth and believeth on me, shall never die. Believest thou this?" This humble-believing, this heart-believing, my friends, is what we need-must have-must seek. The breathing of the life of Jesus in us, the bright cloud around us, in which he walked, this can comfort us beyond all that we know, all that we imagine. May we find that comfort! Forlorn, forsaken; or deprived, destitute; or bereaved, broken-hearted; whatever be our strait or sorrow; may we find that comfort!

My Brethren, I have been communing now, with affliction. It is a holy and delicate office; and I have been afraid, when speaking with all the earnestness I felt, lest I should not speak with all the delicacy I ought; lest I should only add to grief, by touching its wound. But I felt that I was coming to meet sorrow;

I know that I often come to meet it here; it has of late, occupied much of my mind; and I could not refrain from offering my humble aid for its relief.

I reflected too that I was coming this morning, to this sacred table,* this altar reared for the comfort of all believing souls; reared by dying hands, to the resurrection, to the hope of everlasting life. It was the same night in which he was betrayed: it was when he was about to die, that Jesus set forth in the form of a feast, this solemn and cheering memorial of himself; and uttered many soothing and consoling words to his disciples. He did not build a tomb, by which to be remembered; but he appointed a feast of remembrance. He did not tell his disciples to put on sackcloth; but to clothe themselves with the recollections of him, as with the robe of immortality. Death indeed, was a dread to him; and he shrunk from it. It was a grief to his disciples; and he recognised it as such, and so dealt with it. But he showed to them a trust in God, a loving submission to the Father, that could stay the soul. He spoke of a victory over death. He assured them that man's last enemy was conquered. Here then amidst these memorials of death, let us meditate upon the life everlasting. Let us carry our thoughts to that world where Christ is, and where he prayed that all who love him, might be with him ; where, we believe, they are with him. Let our faith rise so high-God grant it!—that we can say: "Oh! grave, where is thy victory? Oh! death, where is thy sting? Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory, through Jesus Christ, our Lord!"

*Preached before the Communion.

XVII.

THE PROBLEM OF LIFE, RESOLVED IN THE LIFE OF

CHRIST.

IN HIM WAS LIFE, AND THE LIFE WAS THE LIGHT OF MEN.-John i. 4.

THE words, "life and light," are constantly used by the Apostle John, after a manner long familiar in the Hebrew writings, for spiritual happiness, and spiritual truth. The inmost and truest life of man, the life of his life, is spiritual life-is, in other words, purity, love, goodness; and this inward purity, love, goodness, is the very light of life; that which brightens, blesses, guides it.

I have little respect for the ingenuity that is always striving to work out from the simple language of Scripture, fanciful and far-fetched meanings; but it would seem, in the passage before us, as if John intended to state one of the deepest truths in the very frame of our being; and that is, that goodness is the fountain of wisdom.

Give me your patience a moment, and I will attempt to explain this proposition. "In it, was life;" that is, in this manifested and all-creating energy, this outflowing of the power of God, was a divine and infinite love and joy; and this life was the light of men. That is to say-love first, then light. Light does not create love; but love creates light. The good heart only can understand the good teaching. The doctrine of truth that guides a man, comes from the divi