II. As I told you at the beginning of my sermon, if you will live godly in Christ Jesus, you must expect persecution, and the only sort of persecution you will get is Ridicule.

Therefore, if you will live godly in Christ Jesus, you must be prepared to be taunted, and made fun of, and teased. The tongues will wag and say all sort of hard things about you; You are a hypocrite, or you are going too far, or you are a fine person to set up to be a saint! but be of good cheer, do not mind the laughter, it is only for a while, and then the tables will be turned, and the laugh will be on your side.

It is very unpleasant to be made a butt for ridicule. Of course it is, but it is not so unpleasant as to have your flesh torn off with redhot pincers. The early Christians who would live godly in Christ Jesus had to expect that.

It is very galling to have bitter things said of you, often unjust and untrue, only because you have begun to serve God, and lead a better life. Of course it is, but it is not so bitter to bear as a cruel death, and that is what the early Christians had to expect if they would live godly in Christ Jesus.

Then again. As the Master was used, so the servant must expect to be treated. Jesus Christ had not only to endure the cruelty of wicked men, but their ridicule as well, "They laughed Him to scorn."

CONCLUSION.—Pluck up a little courage, my brethren, and do not be such cowards. If you lack courage, ask of God, and He will give it you. The Spirit of Fortitude is one of the gifts of the Holy Ghost. He gave it to the martyrs to strengthen them under torment, and they were able to endure and not forsake their Lord. Then surely He will give to you that measure of fortitude which will enable you to stand up against Ridicule.



LXII.

WHAT LASTS, AND WHAT PASSES AWAY.

25th Sunday after Trinity.

S. Matthew xxiv., 35.

"Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My word shall not pass away."

INTRODUCTION.—Yes! all will pass away! This beautiful world and all that is on it. Our houses, our churches, our cities, will crumble away; the very earth with its mountains and rivers, and plains, and seas, will pass away. The stars will fall from heaven, the sun will have exhausted its fires, the moon will sink into night. But the words of Christ will last.

SUBJECT.—Incessant is the change. Ever are things present passing away, but there is still something that remains. Things pass in their present fashion, but in substance remain.

I. S. Paul, in his 1st Epistle to the Corinthians, says (vii. 31): "The fashion of this world passeth away." It is as though this world were a theatre, on which pass many scenes. The curtain rises, and we see first Eden, all beautiful; there is no sin, no death; how lovely is the world in its maiden freshness and innocence, the flowers are blooming, and the birds are singing, and Adam and Eve stand surrounded by the beasts, which fawn on them, and fear them not. O that this lovely scene might remain! But no! "The fashion of this world passeth away."

Another scene. The Angel armed with the flaming sword drives our parents forth, the earth brings forth thorns and briars. Man slays the beasts to provide him with food and clothing. The earth is full of violence, Cain raises his hand against Abel. All flesh is corrupt before God. "The fashion of this world passeth away."

The flood has purified earth, but now men are scattered through the confusion of tongues, and go over all the world colonising, cutting down trees, planting corn, hunting wild beasts, pasturing cattle, and having flocks of sheep. "The fashion of this world passeth away."

Great empires arise, the Chaldean or Assyrian, the Persian, the Greek, these three. Do they last? "The fashion of this world passeth away." A fourth arises; the mighty Roman Empire, extending over the whole known world. The Roman poet wrote of it in the name of his false god, Jupiter, "I put no bounds to this empire, neither of space nor of time, I give it a kingdom without end." Was it so? We find scattered almost everywhere in the old world where we travel traces of this mighty empire, its roads, its castles, its palaces, its coins, but it is gone, gone utterly away, swept away by the hordes of Gothic barbarians. "The fashion of this world passeth away."

If we look back at the past times of our own country, what changes do we see! the fashion ever changing, the fashion of government, the fashion of religion, the fashion of dress, the fashion of architecture, all is change, change, and change.

Have you ever seen fireworks? Have you seen the rockets rush up into the air, casting a golden light, pouring forth sparks, and then bursting, this one into a silvery globe of light, that one into a thousand stars, crimson, blue, green, yellow, that again into sparks of curling fire-dust? What became of them? Down they fall, and all that remains is a stick and a bit of smouldering brown paper. The fashion has wondrously changed. Are not these rockets figures of the life of man? Up we rush in the eagerness of youth, and cast a light about us, up, up, growing brighter, throwing out our stars and globes of light, and then, "the fashion changeth," and we come down and are laid in our graves, a little ash. Here is the man who was full of wealth and honour, how he blazed as a sun, how he scattered his gold. "The fashion changeth." He is now a crumbling bit of clay.

Here is the man who made such a noise in the parish, such a boaster, so quarrelsome, so litigious, no one could come near him. "The fashion changeth." He lies still as a mouse now, and can resent no injury done to his dust.

Here is the active housewife, whose hand was always busily employed sewing, darning, scouring, never idle for one minute, keeping her house clean, and her children tidy. "The fashion changeth." She can stir no hand, can think for no one any more.

II. Evilmerodach, king of Babylon, was wroth with Daniel, because he denied that Bel was a god. Meats were placed on the altar before the idol every night, and before morning they had vanished. "Therefore," said the king, "Bel must be a god." But Daniel got fine ashes and strewed the temple floor, and locked the doors. Next morning he came with the king to the temple, and when the doors were opened, the king saw that all the meat was gone, then he cried out that Bel was a god. But Daniel pointed to the floor, and there, in the ashes, were the prints of many feet, for the priests had a secret door under the altar, and in the night they came out with their wives and children, and ate what had been offered to the idol. Then Evilmerodach had them all slain.

Now, my brethren! Job says of God: "Thou lookest narrowly unto all my paths," or, as it might be better rendered, "my footprints." That is, Thou, O God, seest my traces where I have been, and Thou wilt take account of what I have done. Mark this!—The steps pass away, but the footprints do not pass away. The steps go on into Endless Life or Eternal Death, but the footprints remain to shew where you have walked. Your fashion in this world may pass away, but your footprints remain to tell tales of you; they pass not away.

You house-father! You house-mother! you will go your way, but your traces will remain in your family, the good you have done, or the bad, these cannot be wiped out.

You who have done any dishonest act, spoken falsehood, dealt deceitfully, all your dishonest acts, and false words, and deceitful dealings, will pass away, but the traces will remain, and God will look narrowly at them.

You have been given talents, intelligence, physical strength, spiritual opportunities; these pass away, but not their traces.

You have been a boy, a youth, a man, and are now old. Each age has passed away, but not the footsteps, they shall not pass away. What you did when first you got your reason, your childish acts, are passed away, but not the results. Your actions when young,—did you yield to your passions or conquer them? those acts are passed away, but not the results. In your manhood, what have you done in your family, what example have you set? You are now old and white-headed. Vigorous manhood is over, passed away, but the footsteps, the tell-tale footsteps remain.

CONCLUSION.—Now then, considering this, I urge you sincerely to live each day as if the last, to live so that you may not be afraid of your footsteps that will betray of what sort your life has been.



LXIII.

THANKFULNESS TO GOD.

Harvest

S. Matthew xxii., 21.

"Render—unto God, the things that are God's."

INTRODUCTION.—David says in the 8th Psalm, "What is man, that Thou art mindful of him: and the son of man that Thou visitest him? Thou makest him to have dominion of the works of Thy hands; and Thou hast put all things in subjection under his feet, all sheep and oxen; yea, and the beast of the field, the fowls of the air, and the fishes of the sea."

I. The mastery of man is even more extensive than this; he controls the elements. The earth he tills and makes it bring forth fruit and corn, as he wills. He will not suffer it to run wild, but schools and disciplines it. He hedges it about, and ploughs, and sows, and reaps. He burrows into it for fuel and for metals, he cuts roads over its face.

The air he makes use of also, it is his servant to turn the sails of his wind-mills, to grind his corn, it fills out the sails of his ships to carry his merchandise from one land to another.

Fire, that most terrible of elements, he dominates and makes into a slave, it smelts the ore for him, it raises the steam that drives the engines, it heats his house, it lights it, it cooks his food.

Water is also under control, he leads it where he will in canals and pipes, he makes it turn the wheels of water-mills, it is used for drinking, and for washing. And yet even that is not all. Man controls the lightning, he makes of that a slave to carry messages round the world, and he carries it into globes, and lights streets and railway stations, and shop windows with it.

When man was innocent in Eden, the beast and birds were his familiar friends, but when he sinned they fled from him. God said to Noah, "The fear of you, and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth, and upon every fowl of the air, upon all that moveth upon the earth, and upon all the fishes of the sea, into your hand are they delivered."

See how the animals have been subjected to man; the horse, the useful cow, the dog, and the sheep have been tamed, the horse which once roved wild submits to have a saddle on his back, and a bit in his mouth. The cow gives her milk and her meat, and the sheep both wool and meat, for the nourishment and the clothing of man; the dog, which, when wild, was fierce as his brother the wolf, has become the friend and companion of man; even the gigantic elephant has become docile, and the Indian mother leaves her babe under its charge, that the monster may brush away the flies from the sleeping infant with a branch.

We have dominion over the birds in the air, we have tamed the domestic fowls and make them yield us their eggs, and we keep the pigeons about our homes that we may kill their young; we snare and shoot them as we will, their high flight and rapid wings are no protection for them.

We have dominion over the fishes of the sea, we strew the net and bring them in for our food; we hunt the whale for his oil and for the fringe of bone in his mouth; we dive into the sea after the oyster that we may extract from it the pearl, and we strip the shell of its rainbow-coloured scales to inlay therewith our furniture.

II. What follows from all this? Is not this enough to make man proud, to exalt him in his own conceit? unfortunately it would seem so, but the lesson I would draw from all this is, Render unto God that service which is due to God, as all inferior creatures render unto you the service you demand of them.

An old writer (Hugo Victorinus) beautifully says—"It is as though the earth appealed to man, and said to him, See how He loved thee who made me for thee. I serve thee because I was made for thee, and do thou serve Him who made thee and me."

Suppose a king were to take you by the hand and lead you into a beautiful estate, and say to you, "Here, I give you this mansion, with the park and the fields, and the woods and the river, you may do what you will with it, hunt, and shoot, and fish, and till the soil, and pasture sheep, and cattle, I give it you all freely and entirely, I ask of you nothing but that you will recognise me as your king and not join my enemies in fighting against me." Then, I think, you would embrace the offer with the greatest eagerness. Now this is just what God has done to you; He has brought you into the world, and has given you power over the beasts of the field, the fowls of the air, the fishes of the sea, He has given you the earth to grow your corn, and on which to pasture your cattle, He has given you dominion over the elements, and all He asks in return is that you will recognise Him as the Giver, and not join His enemies. "Render unto God that honour and homage that be God's."

III. Balaam, the prophet and seer, rode on his ass to go to Balak, king of Moab. God had forbidden him to go and curse the chosen people of God, but Balaam, moved by covetousness, and eager for honours from the king, started on his way to go. Then an angel stood in the way with a drawn sword to stop him. Balaam did not see the angel, but the ass did, and fell down under Balaam. Then he cried out in a rage, "I would there were a sword in mine hand, for now would I kill thee," and he beat the ass savagely with his stick. Do you see! Balaam expects the ass to obey him blindly, to go where he chooses; but he himself will not obey God, and refrain from going whither he is forbidden.

How is it with you? Is it not with you as with Balaam? You expect the earth to yield you what you choose, and are wroth if it withholds the crop; but you do not yield to God what He desires, and show a harvest of good fruit unto life everlasting from the seed of Grace He has sown in you. You expect your sheep to give their wool, and your cows their milk, and to obey you, and come into the fold, or go out into the pasture, docile to your will. But do you act thus to God? Are you docile to His will? Do you eat that heavenly food He has prepared for you in the pastures of his Church? You expect your orchard to yield you apples. Do you show any fruit of the Spirit? When Christ comes and searches among the leaves of your profession, does He find any fruit of good works there?

CONCLUSION.—Then, Brethren, in your farm-work, bear this ever in mind, that as you expect the fields and the cattle to yield to you what is your due, so render also yourselves unto God that honour, that worship, that gratitude, which are God's.



LXIV.

THE FORMATION OF HABITS.

School Sermon.

Proverbs xxii. 6.

"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."

INTRODUCTION.—There is a district, high up in the Black Forest, where the ground is full of springs. It is a plain some nine hundred feet above the sea. Thousands upon thousands of little springs gush out of the soil; you seem to be on the rose of a vast watering-can. Now, from this great source flow a good many rivers, and they flow in very different, nay, opposite directions. There rises the Danube, which runs East and dies in the Black Sea, and also the Neckar and a hundred other tributaries of the Rhine, which flows West, and falls into the North Sea. A very little thing on that plain—a slight rise or fall in the ground, this way or that—decides the direction in which a river shall run. You can easily make a little stream run this way and feed the Rhine, or that way and swell the Danube; but after a few miles all control over the stream is gone. It runs on, and will run on to the end in the direction you have given it, or which it took by chance when it started.

It is the same with children. All these little springs of vigorous life are bubbling up round us, and whither shall they flow? To the right or to the left? To Life or to Death? We can give them their direction now. A few years hence, and all power over them will be gone.

SUBJECT.—As a habit is formed in early youth, so it remains to old years.

I. We take our children and we train them for God. God has given them to us for this, to train them as citizens of His kingdom. We neglect our duty if we neglect this. He placed the flexible little characters in our hands to bend this way or that, expecting us to make them grow upright and not crooked, to look to Heaven, instead of trailing on earth. They are a solemn trust for which we must give account.

It would have been one of the chief woes of Hell to Dives, if he had his five brethren there to reproach him for having set them a bad, selfish, luxurious example. Think how bitter your future state would be, if your children in the outer darkness were to be for ever reproaching you, "You brought us up to the world and not to God, you fed our bodies but not our souls, you set before us the transitory life as the one thing to care for, and did not teach us to lay up treasure and toil for the life eternal!" Think, also, how it will increase your happiness to have your children in Life Eternal, and to receive their blessing, and experience their gratitude for having so taught them, by word and example, that they have through life walked in the narrow path that leads to the gates of Heaven.

"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." You teach your children obedience, in order that when young they may form the habit of submitting to rule. When they are old they will not depart from it. God has His laws. God exacts their obedience. They learn now to bow to the commands of a teacher whom they can see, they will obey afterwards the invisible Divine Teacher. You teach your children order and method when young, that they may live an orderly life when they grow older. You teach them self-control now, that they may be able to exercise it in greater matters hereafter.

II. Habits of obedience, and order, and self-control, acquired in childhood will be confirmed in manhood, and will remain to the end of life. A man of business, who has spent his youth and manhood in looking after his shop, or attending to his office, is miserable in old age when he gives up his business and retires; he misses the old routine, he would be happier if he could go on in the accustomed round till he drops. The days hang heavy on his hands. The relaxation to which he had looked forward, and for which he had worked, palls on him. And these are habits of industry. Bad habits retain a stronger hold on man. A bad youth and a bad manhood make a vicious old age. Many an old man who had led a disorderly life retains his wicked habits, though they afford him no pleasure. He goes on in vice merely because vice has become habitual, not because it is pleasurable.

Eli, as we read in the 4th chap. I Sam., when aged ninety and eight years, and his eyes were dim, that he could not see, "sat upon a seat by the wayside watching." What is the meaning of this? The old man of nearly a hundred has his chair brought outside the temple, and sits there looking up the street, and that although his eyes are so covered with a mist that he can see nothing. The sacred writer does not say that Eli sat on the seat by the wayside seeing what went on, but only straining his sightless eyeballs up the street. If we turn back to the first chapter, we shall see that this was a habit with Eli. When he was many years younger, some thirty years before, when Hannah came up to Shiloh to entreat the Lord to have mercy on her and take away her reproach, we read "Now Eli, the priest, sat upon a seat by the post of the temple of the Lord." And his eyes, then sharp and clear, were peering about and watching all that was going on, and examining the faces of the people who were coming in and going out, and were engaged in prayer. One would have thought that common decency would have kept him from watching the face of the poor woman who was engaged in prayer, but Eli had not acquired control over his eyes—indeed, his great amusement was peering into people's faces and guessing what was going on in their minds. Hannah wept as she prayed, "And it came to pass, as she continued praying to the Lord, that Eli marked her mouth. Now Hannah, she spake in her heart; only her lips moved, but her voice was not heard,"—then with that want of charity, and tendency to think evil which so commonly goes with peeping and prying—"Eli thought she had been drunk." He saw what was not—drunkenness—in the weeping, sorrowful-hearted woman, but he saw not the wickedness which was in his disorderly sons. Here is an illustration of how habits last. Eli had acquired this habit of sitting in the gate and watching what went on, when he was a man in the vigour of his days, and when he was a very old man and blind, the habit continued. He had his chair brought out into the street that he might look up and down it, though his eyes were dim and he could see nought.

III. Now the great advantage of a school to a child is that therein the child is taught good habits. The child has got certain talents, but cannot turn these talents to any good account without application. In school he is given the habit of application; that is, of keeping his attention fixed on one subject.

But application is not all; to that must be added perseverance. No advance will be made in anything, unless a man first applies his mind to his task, and then perseveres in it till he has fulfilled what he undertook. Nothing is more common than to begin a thing and to be disheartened at the first difficulty, and to throw it up. At school the child is given the habit of perseverance.

That is not all. No work will be carried out thoroughly without order and system. You see people who work all day and work hard, but never make any way, because they work in a muddle, and with no regular plan. At school the child is given the habit of orderliness.

I have instanced only a few of those necessary habits which we try to impress on children at school. We endeavour to impress them on the young, because then they are open to instruction, their characters are soft and take impressions, as warm wax does from a seal. We train them up in the way in which they should go, trusting that when they are old they will not depart from it. We teach what is good, that good may become a habit with them, and when anything has become a habit, it sticks. It is not shaken off.



LXV.

RELIGIOUS ZEAL.

Dedication Festival

Ps. lxix., 9.

"The zeal of Thine house hath eaten me up."

INTRODUCTION.—David spoke the truth. The one great desire of his heart was the glorification of God by the erection of a temple befitting His worship at Jerusalem. Although he had plenty of cares to distract him, yet he never had this out of his heart. "I will not come within the tabernacle of mine house; nor climb up into my bed; I will not suffer mine eyes to sleep, nor mine eyelids to slumber; neither the temples of my head to take any rest; until I find out a place for the temple of the Lord; an habitation for the mighty God of Jacob."

One of the first things he did after he was anointed King over Israel, was to go to Kirjath-jearim, and bring up thence the ark of God from the house of Abinadab in which it had lodged. And David went before the ark playing his harp, and his heart was so full of joy that he danced before the ark, singing and striking the strings of his harp. Then Michal his wife, Saul's daughter, looked out of a window, and sneered at him, "and despised him in her heart." She was one of your cold-blooded people, with no enthusiasm in her, with no zeal for God, no heart for God's glory. Better David dancing for joy of heart, than captious Michal with a contemptuous curl of her lips.

David collected great treasures to build the temple, and directly he was at peace, his heart began to yearn to be about the work, and build to the glory of God. "See now," he said, "I dwell in an house of cedar, but the ark of God dwelleth within curtains." But the word of God came to him by Nathan the prophet, forbidding him to build, because he was a man of blood, the temple was to be erected by his son Solomon. Nevertheless, David collected for the temple, and above all, composed his beautiful psalms to be sung in it. The gold and the cedar that Solomon set up are gone, but the Psalms remain, and have passed over to be the heritage of the Church.

SUBJECT.—How striking is the zeal of David, and how little zeal have we for God's glory, and for the adornment of His house! Let us consider to-day this zeal for God's house, and for those things that appertain to the worship of God, and tend to His glory.

I. Of all the pathetic stories in the Bible, there is one which has struck me for its singular pathos, yet it is one which I dare say has escaped your notice. You have heard of the zeal of David, how his enthusiasm carried him away, out of himself, so that he forgot his royal dignity, and danced before the ark. You have heard of his bitter disappointment, how when through many years he had longed and planned to build the temple of God, his desire was not allowed to be carried into effect, but the honour was reserved for his son. The zeal of God's house had eaten him up. This was very touching, I think, but I remember a still more touching story of zeal for God's house, and God's honour, and that, not in a great man, but in a humble woman.

Eli, the priest and judge of Israel, had two sons, Hophni and Phinehas, and they were priests in Shiloh. They were utterly bad, profligate men, utterly regardless of the honour of God, and they disgraced their sacred calling by their shameless lives. They snatched from the sacrifices the best portion of the meat, and kept it for themselves, and they dishonoured the tabernacle by their shameless immoralities committed with those women who came to Shiloh to worship.

In a great battle fought between the Israelites and the Philistines, the ark of God was taken, and Hophni and Phinehas were both slain. Then the news was brought to Eli the priest, and the old man, when he heard it, fell back off his chair in a fit, and broke his neck and died. The news also reached the wife of Phinehas. We do not know her name. We only hear of her this once, but by the one little incident recorded of her, we know what she was.

"The daughter-in-law of Eli, Phinehas' wife, was with child, near to be delivered, and when she heard the tidings that the ark of God was taken, and that her father-in-law and her husband were dead, she bowed herself and travailed; for her pains came upon her. And about the time of her death, the women that stood by her said unto her, Fear not, for thou hast borne a son. But she answered not, neither did she regard it. . . And she said, The glory is departed from Israel, for the ark of God is taken." Good, God-fearing, loving heart! Not a thought about herself. She is in great suffering; not a cry from her other than this, "The ark of God is taken!" They tell her that her father-in-law, old Eli, has fallen and broken his neck, "But she answered not, neither did she regard it"—only she said, "The ark of God is taken." They tell her that her husband has been killed in the battle. "But she answered not, neither did she regard it"—only she cried, "The ark of God is taken." They brought to her her new-born child, a son. What dearer to a mother than the little infant to whom she has given life? But no, even that does not move her mind from the one absorbing idea, "She answered not, neither did she regard the babe," only she cried, "The glory is departed from Israel, for the ark of God is taken." Then the women who stood by said to her, "What shall the name of the child be, thy husband who should have named it is dead, thy father-in-law is dead, thou must name it." "But she answered not, neither did she regard it,"—only she cried, "The glory is departed from Israel." Then the women that stood by said, "So shall the name be," and they called the child Ichabod, which means, "Inglorious." A few minutes later, and she was dying, and the last murmur on her lips, and the last thought of her heart were, "The ark of God is taken."

I say this is a singularly touching story, for it shows us a woman whose whole soul was imbued with zeal for the glory of God, and that woman was the wife of a man whose whole priestly career was one of dishonour to God.

II. Now I have given you two striking instances of zeal for God's honour, one in a man, and one in a woman. Have you any such zeal in you? Are your thoughts at all taken up with God's church, God's altar, God's worship? Are you eager that all should be beautiful and seemly in the temple of God? Does it pain you above every other pain when you know of something which is to the dishonour of God and of His Church? Have you any zeal at all like that of David? Have you any self-forgetfulness in what concerns His honour, like that of the nameless wife of Phinehas? I think if there were a little of this zeal, so many of our churches would not be untidy, neglected, ruinous. There would not be moth-eaten altar-cloths, and worm-eaten altars. There would not be green mouldering walls, and broken pavements. There would not be a service slovenly, unmusical, irreverent, or if not irreverent, at least unworthy of the glory of God.

In heaven flame the golden candles, and the censers fume with frankincense. In heaven the seven lamps ever burn, and the altar shines like the sun. In heaven the angels and the saints cease not day nor night in singing praises, and bowing in worship—and we! how do we show that we love God's worship? The zeal of God's house does not eat us up, we do not even know what it is.



LXVI.

THE MEETING HEREAFTER.

Funeral Service.

Joshua iii. 17.

"And the priests that bare the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord stood firm on dry ground in the midst of Jordan, and all the Israelites passed over on dry ground, until all the people were passed clean over Jordan."

INTRODUCTION.—That must have been a striking sight! The whole of God's people passing over Jordan. On one side, on that of the Wilderness, a crowd pressing down, and going into the deep river bed, on the other, those who had traversed, rising out of it, and spreading out on the high bank, looking down and watching those who descend into the bed, and cross through it to rejoin them. They stand in a blaze of light. The sun is setting, and the whole sky behind them is flaming with golden clouds, the light strikes in the eyes of those on the further bank, and they look down into the dark channel and shrink, it is immersed in shadow, but then again, they look up, and see the glory, and the forms of their fathers, and brothers, and mothers, and sisters, and children standing there, steeped in light, and they pluck up courage and go down.

They have no cause to fear.

In the midst of Jordan stands the Ark of the Covenant, and it will not move from that place till the last has passed over.

SUBJECT.—That story may serve for our comfort. We, like the Israelites, are on our journey, and we have to pass through the dark bed of the stream of Death, before we can enter into the promised land.

And we have two subjects of consolation.

(a) We have the Ark of the Covenant standing in Jordan to secure the path.

(b) We have our dear ones watching and waiting for us on the farther shore.

I. We have the Ark of the Covenant standing in Jordan to secure the path. "Lo, I am with you always," said Christ, "even unto the end of the world." That Ark signifies His abiding presence in His Church, which stands between the living and the dead, a Church on this side, militant, on the other, triumphant, a Church on this side made up of good and bad, of tares and wheat, of sheep and goats, on that side, a Communion of Saints.

The Ark and the priests stood in Jordan, so does God's Church and priesthood ever remain, so long as the world lasts, and that world will last till the number of the elect has been made up, till the last of the people of the Lord is passed over Jordan.

The Ministry will remain to teach the way of the Lord, and point the path through the river bed, and to cheer those who are downhearted, to lift up the finger and bid them look to the further shore, and to the glory there, and to those who stand on it watching.

The Sacrifice will remain, the atoning Blood for the remission of guilt, the altar will remain as well as the pulpit, the priest as well as the teacher, sacrifice as well as instruction. Ever throughout the year, the atoning Blood will be pleaded with the Father for the pardon of the sins of the people. The Bread of Heaven, the manna will remain, to be man's spiritual food and sustenance, and strengthen the heart for the passage of Jordan.

The presence of Christ will remain, "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." "When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee, and through the waves, they shall not overflow thee." Therefore, well says David, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me."

II. Metabus, King of the Volsci, was pursued by his enemies. He carried in his arms a little babe, his niece Camilla. In his flight he came to the brink of a river, deep, troubled, and strong in current, and it arrested his flight. He would not have been afraid of the stream himself, had it not been for the little child. He hesitated. What should he do? He dare not enter with the babe, as he must use both arms to battle through so strong a stream. The enemy were behind. He heard their shouts! From a distant hill-top they had spied him. He could not find it in his heart to desert the little one whom he loved so dearly.

Then, what do you suppose Metabus resorted to? There were a great many reeds by the river side, with his dagger he reaped them down, and he wrapped the babe up in rushes and reeds thickly round it, and tied them together with his girdle, and then he raised the little bundle in both his hands, and flung it with all his might across the river. After that he sprang into the water and swam across to the other side. He picked up the dear little bundle, took the child out, found it quite unharmed, and escaped with it lying next his heart.

My Brethren! Is not this something like us?—we may have our little ones, and be called on to part with them. There lies the river, the dark rolling river of death. We must cross sometime ourselves. Safety is yonder. Danger, destruction, here. In God's name, trusting in Him when He wills it, we part with those so dear to us. We wrap them up in their white wraps, and close them from sight in their coffin, and cast them away. They are gone—over the river, and then we are ready in our turn to plunge in and follow.

Now it is a great encouragement to us to follow when we know that those we love are passed and are in safety. You parents who have parted with your darlings, you have wrapped them up and cast them away. Whither? They have only flown across the river, and when you leap in and swim through, you will find them there—your Camillas, safe and smiling on you, on the other side.

CONCLUSION.—Ah! my brethren, what a happy meeting that will be! Father, mother, brothers, sisters, children, whole families gathered together. What embraces! What tears of joy! What stories to tell of past troubles! What gratitude to God for his mercies shown! What thankfulness for His Ark that rested in the midst of Jordan, that supplied direction, sustenance, propitiation, comfort, and nourishment for the journey.

THE END