were moved by the Holy Ghost," were no exception to this rule. The "divine Isaiah," than whom, among the prophets none sang more fully or rapturously of Christ and his cross, was sawn asunder. The harsh grating of a saw was the accompaniment introduced by command of Manasseh into the last and most triumphant song of the "most complete of the Bards of Israel."Jeremiah, the most plaintive of the Hebrew seers, "who modulated the cadences of his diction to the sounds of the breaking hearts that were bleeding around him," was stoned to death. Daniel, certainly one of the most honest of counsellers and most blameless of men, was cast to the lions; so eagerly did his enemies thirst for his blood. Paul, after a life of severest trial, suffered martyrdom. Even John, that disciple whom Jesus loved, was in his old age banished to the barren isle of Patmos. The difficulties and troubles of some of the holy men of old were so great that they at times shrunk from them. Their road at times was so rough, and the thorns and briars so sharp and poignant, that they were often tempted, like Bunyan's pilgrim, to turn aside into " bye-path meadow." But lest their spirits should be overwhelmed a glimpse was sometimes afforded of brighter times. The wintry clouds were dispersed, the piercing winds were hushed, and the bright sun and green verdure, and the soft zephyrs of Spring, were seen and felt. They at times were elevated to some mountain top, and though a long and dreary region lay stretched out before them, which they would have to traverse, yet their vision being strengthened by the Spirit of God, they could perceive in the distance the pearly gates and golden streets of the better land. This distant glory inspired them with fresh courage, and made them almost_forget the difficulties of the way. John and Isaiah were especially favoured in this respect. They both saw very far into the future. Indeed John talks as familiarily of heaven as if he had explored its resourses and had participated in its delights. A celestial glory illumines many of his pages. Isaiah, though not privileged so highly as John, yet, at least, reached the land Beulah, which is "upon the borders

69

а

of heaven;" and "within sight of the city." Hence the song of one in the house of his pilgrimage was, 66 God shall wipe away all tears from your eyes;" of the other, "The days of thy mourning shall be ended." The posi tion of the church in the time of Isaiah was one of deep depression and of poignant grief. A desolating storm had swept over her. Many of her chief pillars had been removed. From " well watered garden" she had become a desert. The future seemed wrapped in gloom. The sword of the destroying angel appeared flaming over her. To the eye of the prophet, however, these fearful omens were dispersed ; and carried forward on the wings of time, he saw that same depressed church, the scorn of the proud, the laughing stock of the profane, raised from the dust and made an eternal excellency, a joy of many generations. The glory of the church under the powerful, benign, and wise government of the Prince of Peace, is described in this chapter in the most splendid colours, and with every variety of the most magnificent imagery. We cannot stay, pleasing and profitable as the task would be, to divest this glowing description of its gorgeous dress, and to reduce it to plain language; suffice it to say, that it points to a time when the debased one shall be elevated, the sorrowful shall rejoice, the "little one shall become a thousand, and the small one a strong nation," and when the poor and despised shall be rich and respected.

Are we depressed and sorrowful? Are our hearts overwhelmed within us? "Yet brighter hours are on the wing.'

"It doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that when He shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is." Let that, then, which encouraged Isaiah, comfort us, "The days of thy mourning shall be ended."

In endeavouring to extract the sweetness from this promise we will

First, enumerate some of the chief causes of mourning to the people of God.

Look on what countenance you will that has had an existence for any length of time, beyond mere childhood, and you can detect some marks of care, disappointment and sorrow. Especially

is it so with the believer, however young. Grief, like a worm in the bud, has fed on the damask cheek of many a young disciple of Christ, and from it

"The cheerful, pure, and animated bloom,"

has died away. In the world ye shall have tribulation, is a prophecy the truth of which is experienced by every child of God. No position in society or even in the church is entirely sheltered from the storm, and some spots which we imagine to be most protected are really most exposed.

"The storm

That makes the high elm couch, and rends the oak,
The humble lily spares. A thousand blows
Which shake the lofty monarch on his throne,
We lesser folk feel not."

Those mountains which first receive the sun's reviving rays are most exposed to the lightning's flash.

But to mention the causes of mourning to the believer more particularly

we remark that,

The bereavements we experience are one cause of much sorrow and distress.

No persons are better qualified to enjoy the benefits and delights of friendship than are the people of God. Christianity most effectually brings into exercise the social affections. It has completely enlarged the character of Britons in this respect. From being the most savage (if Horace's testimony be true)* we are become the most hospitable nation in the world. Christianity has wrought the change. A christian is most emphatically a social being. He considers all men his brothers of whatever nation, of whatever colour. The household of faith, however, are peculiarly dear to him. When, therefore, such persons are called to part, their sorrow of heart is so much the greater than that of others. There is that in real religion which knits the heart of one follower of Christ to another more closely than anything besides. The use we may have been to each other in bringing one another to Jesus, the profitable and delightful communions we may have had on our pilgrimage, having one crafty, malignant, powerful, and common foe against which to do battle, and the very nature of the principles implanted in the heart by the Holy Ghost, all tend to produce this effect. As, then, one after another

66

of our much loved christian friends, who may have been to us a guide and a stay," falls by our side, or is carried from the ranks and bids us adieu, our hearts are sad and our spirits mourn. Those spots which seemed so fair and their charm; the earth grows less dear pleasant with them at our side, lose in our esteem; we are more and more pleased that this is not our rest; we long "to depart and be with Christ, which is far better" than continuance here; and the prayer ascends to God,"Now let me mount and join their song, And be an angel too,"

The prevalence of iniquity in the world is another fruitful cause of mourning to the believer.

Supposing every other source of sorrow were dried up, and instead of thousands there were but one impenitent sinner within the sphere of the believer's

influence, one uninterested in the blessings of redemption, one living without Christ, and without hope, the real christian would still mourn. He would mourn

over the wickedness and wretchedness of that one, and over the dishonour done to him who "merits all our love." But instead of one there are thousands, who if lost will be lost for ever-whose "hearts are not right in the sight of God," and who therefore are "in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity." The present condition and future prospects of the ungodly are causes of intense grief to the believer. Looking upon the perishing around him, he feels as did the Psalmist"Rivers of water run down mine eyes, because they keep not thy law." The prevalence of sin, then, that rocky hardness of heart, daring defiance of God, persevering rejection of mercy, and inveterate love of evil which almost universally prevail, is a constant source of mourning to the real believer.

That which the believer is compelled to witness in his own family is another cause of mourning.

Many a parent can say with David, "My house is not so with God, (i. e. saved) though this is all my desire." A really christian parent may earnestly desire health, learning, and the respect of others for his children, but there is

one desire which is far more intense than all others, and that is that his children be interested in the comay venant mercies of God. When there

fore he sees them revengeful, like Simeon and Levi; deceitful, cruel, ambitious and headstrong, like Absalom; or even self-righteous, like the young ruler, that parent's heart bleeds and his trouble of mind is very great. He knows that the swearer, the liar, the disobedient, the drunkard, the unclean, and the self-righteous "shall not inherit the kingdom of God."

Sometimes, however, children have to mourn over the present condition and future prospects of their parents; and perhaps of all grief, this is the most bitter. From the relation children sustain they feel a backwardness in attempting to instruct their parents in divine things. They are afraid that any such attempt would be construed into forwardness and presumption. They are thus never able to tell their love to their parents, and thus their anxiety is concealed in their hearts, and eats as does a canker. A daughter's compassion for her mother is thus described by Moffat!-Speaking of Mamonyatsi, he says, "I found her sitting weeping, with a portion of the word of God in her hand; addressing her, I said, "My child what is the cause of your sorrow? Is the baby still unwell ?" No, she replied, my baby is well. "Your mother-in-law ?" I in quired. No, no, she said, it is my own dear mother, who bore me. Here she again gave vent to her grief, and holding out the gospel of Luke, in a hand wet with tears, she said, My mother will never see this word; she will never hear this good news. She wept again, and again said, O my mother and my friends, they live in heathen darkness; and shall they die without seeing the light which has shone on me, and without tasting that which I have tasted? Raising her eyes to heaven, she sighed a prayer, and I heard the words again," My mother, my mother."

A long, sad recital of the fears and anxieties felt by young disciples for their ungodly parents is often poured into a pastor's ears. Sometimes one child mourns over the fearful prospects of another. A short time since a young disciple remarked to the writer, with tears in her eyes, I have a mother in heaven, and I trust I am on my way thither; but when I look upon the rest of the family my heart

71

sinks within me. I am not qualified to speak to them as they should be spoken to, but I do wish some one who is would do so." Sometimes a pious husband has to mourn over the prospect of an unbelieving wife, or a pious wife over an unbelieving husband. To go no farther than the family, then, believers find numerous causes of bitter mourning.

The inconsistencies of professing christians are another cause of mourning.

Paul's eyes streamed with tears, and his heart bled with anguish over the inconsistencies of those who ought to have been his comfort and joy. Whatever costs us labour and anxiety to secure, is esteemed by us as valuable. If a tree or flower be carefully reared and cultured, we prize it; and if it fade away our grief is greater than if we had expended no culture upon it. So it is when through our instrumentality some have been brought into the enjoyment of the divine favourhave flourished and grown lovely in the garden of the Lord-if they lose their fragrance or dishonour their profession. The inconsistencies of christians wound the hands of Christ, paralyze the energies of the sincere peo ple of God, cause the enemies of the cross to blaspheme, operate as a stumbling-block to the impenitent, and at length, if not repented of, will sink the subjects of them into eternal woe. When, then, we look at the desolate state of Zion-at the divisions, bickerings, strifes-at the selfishness, laxity of principle, and a legion of other sins which exist among the professed people of God, our souls are grieved, and we mourn like doves.

The slow progress of the gospel is another cause of sorrow.

Why is his chariot so long in coming? is an enquiry often made. Why tarry the wheels of his chariot? We grieve when we reflect that eighteen hundred years have passed since the message of mercy was first communicated to a condemned and perishing world, and that so few have availed themselves of the gracious offers of salvation. This fact, however, is not more lamentable than its cause. The wheels of the gospel chariot, like those of the Egyptians in the Red Sea, go heavily. Why does the gospel progress so sluggishly? The church is

not only not yet established on the top of the mountains, and exalted above the hills, but her ascent thither is scarcely perceptible. When, O when shall the cause of this be the question of the church and of the age? "A world is perishing;

And can it be that we who have the means
Which God has bless'd in every age to save,
Shall let it die? Awake, ye men of God!
Be true to Christ, be gracious to your race."

The last cause for mourning which we will mention, though by no means the only one unnoticed, is our own imperfections.

numerous.

These are great and Other causes of mourning are profound, but this is a deep within a deep. Looking at the slow progress which we make in the attainment of christian excellence at best, at our many wanderings and backslidings, at the weakness of our faith and coldness of our love, at our selfishness and worldliness, at the multitude of our defects, we are humbled in the dust. All other sins appear small compared with ours; and we put our hands upon our mouth, and our mouth in the dust, if so there might be hope."

66

These, then, are a few of the causes of mourning to the real christian. We remark,

Secondly, That this mourning will be of limited duration. "The days of thy mourning shall be ended." Every night you may water your couch with your tears; sad and sorrowful may be every note that escapes you during the whole of your pilgrimage; every breeze may be laden with your sighs, and every step of the way to the very threshold of the gates of glory may be watered with your tears, but there you will shed your last. We don't say how long it will be, but the time is short, so short that it is expressed by the word, "days." The prophet does not say the years, or months, or weeks, but the days of thy mourning shall be ended. So sure as ye weep now, mourning christians, so sure shall ye be comforted. Here we have the promise of a covenant-keeping God on which to build our hope. His love has made this promise, and his power and faithfulness will perform it. All those joys and consolations,—and, blessed be God, our sorrow here is not unmixed-all those joys and con

solations which we experience here are earnests and foretastes of a richer repast he is providing for us above. A few more years of conflict, of prayer, of patience, of hope, and ye that "sow in tears shall reap in joy:" and the exceeding glory of the result will convince you of the correctness of the apostle's estimate when he said, "I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed."*

The days of thy mourning shall be ended. We will describe very briefly, Thirdly, The blessed state that will succeed these days of mourning.

"Absent from the body, present with the Lord." "In his presence is fulness of joy, at his right hand are pleasures for evermore." Sorrow is unknown in heaven. None of its causes, which abound here, will have an existence in that better land. There will be no death, no sickness, no pain. Among the immense multitude that will meet there, not one will be unholy or impenitent. Each one has been presented faultless before God with in his beauty, and have a possession exceeding joy. We shall see the king in the land that is very far off. No

more shall we mourn over our own

imperfections, for we shall be perfect even in the sight of God. No longer shall we have to preach the word, for all will be saved there. No stain will mar the fair features of christian character. Not one in that family will be impenitent. No funeral procession will ever darken the golden streets of heaven, or cast a cloud of of the redeemed. sorrow over the glorified countenances We shall be like Christ. We shall be reunited to christian friends. We shall never part again.

Christian mourner, comfort yourself with this prospect. Soon, very soon, the earthly house of your tabernacle will be taken down; soon "flights of angels will sing you to your rest;" soon, amid the welcoming hosannas of angels and redeemed spirits, will a crown of glory be placed upon your head, and you will "enter into the joy of your Lord." Longford.

C.

*See Cumming's Apocalyptic Sketches. 2nd Series. Lecture IV.

In some recent remarks on this work of Professor Upham, in the Evangelist, it was spoken of as advantageous to the Christian community, because furnishing a tangible and definite point to the efforts of those who are longing for higher spiritual attainments. Its object is to treat of the higher forms of Christian experience, as they have been recognised and treated in all ages, whether by Catholic or Protestant writers-as they have been recognized under different terms, by all denominations of Christians. The advantages to the Christian church in setting before it such points of attainment, are very nearly the same in result, as the advantages of preaching immediate regeneration, in preference to indefinite exhortation to men to lead sober, righteous, and godly lives. It has been found, in the course of N. England preaching, that pressing men to an immediate and definite point of conversion, produced immediate and definite results; and so it has been found among Christians, that pressing them to any immediate and definite point of attainment, will in like manner result in marked and decided progress. For this reason it is, that among the Moravian Christians, when the experience by them denominated full assurance of faith was much insisted upon, that there were more instances of high religious faith than in almost any other denomination; while in these latter times, when it is scarcely remembered that the Congregational and Presbyterian church has an article on this subject, strongly enjoining its attainment, it is an experience so rare as to excite surprise when fully manifested. And yet there is, through the whole mass of struggling Christian mind, a longing for some definite point of rest. Doubtless the recent discussion of what has been denominated sinless perfection and entire satisfaction, touched chords of deep vibration in many a Christian bosom. "Would that it could be!" was the half uttered language of many who saw, too logically, that in this life the sinless rest of the blessed never would perfectly develop itself! And seeing too clearly that such a point was not, in

fact, and probably never would be gained, multitudes calmly resigned themselves to sigh and go backward, to water with their tears a ceaseless succession of made and broken resolutions-to be now spiritual, now worldly, and spiritual again; and thus followed ever by condemning conscience, and walking amid unsuccessful spiritual efforts, to long for death as the end alike of their struggles and their sins!

But suppose the absolute sinless rest of the blessed is not to be attained here, does it follow that there is nothing that is? Though heaven itself does not lie on this side of the river of death, is there not a land of Beulah that does? and have not multitudes who once were scarce able to keep themselves awake on that Enchanted ground, found themselves renewed as with youthful vigour, when they entered this balmy region? But after all, there is nothing on this point like experience. Let every Christian open his new Testament, and follow with us this question-What have mortal men and women like us felt and attained, by the power of the gospel of Christ? In opening our new Testament and reading especially in the Epistles, we are struck with the extreme joyousness, vivacity, and hope, that breathe through their whole atmosphere. It is like a green wood on a still Sabbath morning fragrant with flowers, glancing with sunshine, ringing everywhere with wild, spontaneous bursts of gratulation and praise. What are the words which strike us most frequently, as we turn page after page-love, joy, peace--joy unspeakable-praise, thanksgiving, glory! the christian church, according to the apostles, was rather a procession of royal priests, going to Mount Zion with exultation, with palms in their hands, than a long defile of weeping, self-convicted culprits, doubting, fearing, trembling and groaning under burdens. In order to give a full contrast to the apostolic style of viewing the Christian life, and that of our own time, let us imagine a little scene. Let us suppose that in one of those too long periods which now seem to be matters of course in the