And it is the atwith the living bread And if the joy of im

and saddens the other, is partly to be distrusted. And there is deeper reason for this than we may apprehend at first. It is never to be forgotten that a true faith in immortality must make the present bright, as well as the future glorious. For the Christian faith is not simply that a continuance of existence awaits us beyond the grave. It is the faith that immortal powers and affections are here in these hearts, waking to action in their immortal love, in their thoughts of eternal truth, in their growing conceptions of God. tempt to feed them now coming down from heaven. mortality consists in their full development, their present waking must be a degree of bliss. If it be gain to die, it is through an inward life which must make it Christ to live. The right faith makes both conditions beautiful, because they are only the spreading of different scenes around the same essential spirit. Jesus does not make any promise of immortality as a consolation, to hearts slumbering here so deeply that they now experience no blessed life. His teaching is-" Whosoever liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die." And the inward life he had then in view must scatter fragrance and beauty around. all its paths, whether they lead into scenes of present being, or across the narrow sea of death. Its treasure is in heaven. And its heaven is in the heart. And though the comparison must be

humbly made, because we are so far removed from him, yet like the Redeemer, his peace is with him, wherever he dwells. Do you not see that the feeling which really exalts one portion of our being, must exalt every other portion also? The true life is like the royal sun, the fount of brightness in itself, wherever it stands or rests. I do not wonder to hear Paul speaking at the same time of triumph in life, and of death as gain. He could not have done otherwise. The spirit which conquered the fear of the future, conquered in all the strifes of the present. Man can never rightly say, "O death where is thy sting?" without also saying as in the same breath, "for me to live is Christ." I do not wonder to hear the rapturous expressions of inward peace uttered by tried and martyr lips, pouring themselves out in song from the midnight prison, as the Apostles of old once sang in their bonds. To those who knew the deep things of the love of God, would life show the deep things of its possible inward peace, in its perfect triumph over outward suffering. And thus have those to whom it seemed the saddest, often found it sweetest. Thus do the deepest expressions of love to God often go up from most bereaved homes. God doth not keep the gates of his heaven closed, till the portals of the tomb have been passed, then to have them suddenly opened with an all-unimagined splendour. The heaven is coming now in all

loving hearts.

morning light.

It gradually brightens like the Those ready to enter it, find intervals of its peace in their imprisonments, or their tears. And though an element of sadness is now in their song, a clearer vision shall dispel, yet still are they learning here the glad strains of the upper world of unbroken peace.

Our chiefest want is a true faith in an immortal life. We do not mean the faith, which believes merely in a resurrection, as an event surely to come; or which goes to the Redeemer's tomb in mere assurance that he has risen, and that all of human race shall also rise. For I do not know that this alone avails anything for this world, or the world to come. We want the faith which quickens us to be raised now into heavenly thoughts and heavenly places with the Lord; that fills the soul with immortality; that makes us feel we are immortal beings, deeply as we feel we are subject to death. And then we could enter into the twofold hope expressed in the apostle's word; the hope in life, and the hope in death. We should feel the wounds of bereavement, but we should feel the balm ever pouring in to heal them. We should be alive to the pains of the cross, but we should be alive also to the peace passing understanding. My brother, prove thyself by this twofold trial. Speak not of thy reconciliation to death, when there is murmuring in thy life! Question the nature of thy content

in life, when thou tremblest at death! See both to be beautiful, or thou canst see neither rightly. The bow of hope is not to hang only over the future, however trying present duty may be. It must comprehend time, death, eternity, all, in its beautiful embrace. And no flood can overwhelm us while that is stretched over our way. Ah! it is a great life in the soul we are contemplating. Yet it may begin to be known. It will not come at any sudden call. The heart without an inward trust need not wonder at its absence, when smitten by trial. But it will come through constant seeking. And when it is Christ to live, doubtless, to die will be gain. And let us remember too, that when it shall be gain for us to die, it must also be Christ for us to live.

The Death of the Young.

HEBREWS, ix: 27. "It is appointed unto men once to die."

THE text most naturally suggests a consideration of the law of Death in its general application, folding all the children of men at last, in its sure embrace. And it would be needful to reflect upon it long, perfectly to dispel the dark views that cluster around it, covering it with gloom, and to enter into the bright doctrine of the Christian faith. The text terms it an appointment; that is to say, a universal law. And what otherwise can any universal law in this Paternal Providence be, than a great provision of Love, whose great benediction is designed to rest, upon every head? But this conclusion, so irresistible in speculation, how long it may be almost powerless, practically, over the habitual feeling of the heart! When shall we gain the conviction which can continually clothe this ordination of God with the same aspect of benignant grace, that beams from every other law of His hand? When shall we learn to regard this appointment itself, which makes every birth only the prophet of another departure, which causes every rising of the sun of being, in all its joy, to be a sure precursor of its going down amid sadness and tears, when shall