that there was neither weakness nor wandering of the intellect in that hour. He knew also the solemnity of the change now coming over him; he knew that he was then on the threshold of judgment and eternity-of a righteous judgment and an unchangeable eternity; he knew that he was about to pass for ever from this world, in which the offers of pardon are made, the opportunities of grace enjoyed, and the door of a divine salvation open. Yet, mark with what calmness he speaks, with what composure and tranquillity he anticipates his immediate departure. "I am to be gathered unto my people," "I am being gathered unto my people" seems to be the proper force of the expression, pointing rather to a present than to a future event. It was the language of one who felt that the last short journey was already commenced, that his feet were already dipping into the swellings of Jordan. But there was no appearance of alarm, no token of anxiety, no struggling search as if he wanted something to rest upon, or as if the anchor of the soul were not holding firmly. All is quiet, untroubled, and peaceful. Thus he passed downdown into the dark valley-down into the rushing river-as you might speak of going home from your day's work at evening. I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand," said another, whose name is as familiar to you as that of the patriarch Jacob. The apostle was not destined to breathe out his spirit, in the bosom of an affectionate family, cheered by the presence and tended by the care of loving and loved ones. His course was to be checked by the cruel hand of persecution; and, from various allusions in his writings, it is evident that he expected his struggling bark to go down in some more violent gust of the storm which had been so long beating on it. Yet his reference to the catastrophe is in these calm words, "I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand." Were they not sufficient to prove that Paul had no dread of the issue that he was filled with tranquillity and assurance in the prospect of putting off this tabernacle? It is equally obvious that Jacob had gotten the great victory, had surmounted that dark fear of death which subjects so many all their lifetime, and especially in the closing hours, to bondage. He died in peace; and most clearly was that attested when he uttered, in the face of the king of terrors, these few, simple, quiet words, "I am being gathered unto my people."

A similar inference may be drawn from the manner in which he conveyed to his sons the charge concerning his burial. Observe

his careful, leisurely description of the place to which he referred, and its purchase by his grandfather: "Bury me in the cave which is in the field of Ephron the Hittite, in the cave which is in the field of Machpelah, which is before Mamre, which Abraham bought with the field of Ephron the Hittite, for a possession of a burying-place; the purchase of the field, and of the cave that is therein was from the children of Heth." That was no hurried glance at a secondary matter, amid the agony of an arduous and uncertain conflict,-no snatching of a moment out of engrossng anxieties and apprehensions about his spiritual interests, to indicate his desire regarding the body which was about to be resolved into the dust from which it had been taken. If he had not been at rest in reference to his undying soul, if he had not felt a quiet, holy confidence that it was safe, would he have been so deliberately careful in describing the situation and the purchase of the sepulchre? Let us not marvel, my friends, that saints about to depart can dwell upon the thought of some earthly and temporal matter; neither should we grieve to hear them then speaking with interest about other things besides the spiritual and heavenly. It may be the very strength and quiet assurance of their hope of immortality that permit them to give some special attention still to the body, or the household, or the world which they are leaving.

Whence that peace, that terrorless tranquillity of Jacob in the death-hour? Here he made no particular reference to the source of it. This was not necessary. He had indicated, by his religious profession, and by the consistent piety which adorned his life, especially the latter portion of it, that his trust was in the covenant mercy of Jehovah. In the prophetic blessing also, the sound of which had scarcely left the ears of his assembled children, he had spoken of the Shepherd, the Stone of Israel; he had named the Shiloh, to whom the gathering of the nations would be; and had concluded his prediction respecting one of the tribes with these words, "I have waited for Thy salvation, O Lord." Mark the connection in which this expression occurred. It followed the reference to Dan, whose emblem was "the serpent by the way, the adder in the path that biteth the horse heels, so that his rider shall fall backward." Injurious cunning, the characteristic of the serpent, would be displayed by that tribe; and did not the patriarch then remember his own sin, the deceit which he had practised on his father, to the hurt of his brother Esau? But he had waited, he said, for God's salvation-for sal

vation, for God's salvation he had waited; he had trusted the merciful God of his fathers to save him. There was no need of further explanation-there was no need for his declaring now that his peace was the fruit of faith, faith in the saving grace of that God who had given him the covenant with its blessings and promises, ratified by sacrifice and predictive of the Messiah.

The faith of Jacob was, like that of Abraham and Isaac, the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seena faith by which he embraced the promises afar off, and confessed himself a stranger and pilgrim on the earth, desiring a better country, that is, an heavenly. Yet his dying thoughts were on the earthly Canaan; and we can discern a special exercise of faith animating his wish to be buried in that land. The natural feelings of which we have spoken had their influence. But is it likely that he would have yielded to these, in the circumstances, if there had not been holier principles dictating the same desire, and more important ends to be secured by its fulfilment? The way was long from Goshen to the cave in which the ashes of his fathers lay; the funeral procession would have to travel a desert region, tediously, toilsomely, and not without danger. Yet the heart of the patriarch was set upon this interment in Canaanso strongly set upon it, that he made it his dying charge to his children, the last utterance which they heard from him, too solemn to be forgotten, too sacred to be neglected. He had previously made special mention of it to Joseph, whose influence gave him peculiar facilities for carrying it out. Joseph also afterwards took a similar promise, upon oath, from his kinsmen ; and the language of the inspired New Testament writer is, " By faith Joseph gave commandment concerning his bones." Canaan was the land of Jehovah's promise-his gift to the seed of Abraham-the heritage of the chosen people under the covenant of God's mercy. Jacob had removed from it, carrying his family and property into the territories of Pharaoh, where Joseph had married and become powerful. As years passed by, human judgment would be ready to say, the history of the Israelites is permanently merged in that of Egypt. But the Word of the Lord had spoken otherwise. In it Jacob had trusted; and his interment in Canaan would be to his seed, from generation to generation, the clear token of his belief that the covenant promise stood -that Canaan was the home country and the inheritance of Israel, in which the Most High would yet plant and prosper them.

There have been other deathbeds as peaceful as that of Jacob, -others on which the failing breath could speak as calmly of the approaching change, and of personal or family matters proper to be attended to,-others which have conveyed to sorrowing relatives the assurance that they were there to witness a believer's home-going. If it has been so in the case of beloved relatives or friends of ours, should the remembrance of the solemn scenes in which we saw their countenances changed be only bitter, as if there had not been, amid the shadows, a fragrance of holiness, and a dawn-gleam of immortality? It may have been a very pleasant voice that then ceased—a very sweet and profitable fellowship that came to an end there; but if we have seen the Saviour's promises fulfilled to the departing ones -if we have beheld death without a sting, its bondage-fear conquered, and its dark vail penetrated by rays from the eternal glory, should we not praise the grace of Him who has made all things new to us, bringing life and immortality to light by His Gospel? Again, let us not fear to anticipate our own departure. Let us be earnetly and trustfully preparing for it now, in the faith of the Lord Jesus, for we know not what a day or an hour may bring forth; and with reference to friends who shall survive us, and sadly miss us from their side, let our prayer be, that, whatever else we may leave to them, there shall be, by God's grace, the legacy of those comforts and hopes which flow from the Christian's deathbed. "Mark the perfect, behold the upright; the end of that man is peace.”

GOD CALLING THE WICKED

TO REPENTANCE:

A SERMON,

BY

JOHN KENNEDY, D. D.,

DINGWALL.

"Say unto them, As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live: turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die, O house of Israel."EZEK. xxxiii. 11.

THIS message from God contains, in the form of an oath, a declaration regarding Himself, and, with earnestness most intense, conveys a call to the house of Israel. The declaration and the call are therefore the two things to which the text demands our attention.

I. In considering the DECLARATION, we must first attend to the import and then to the form of it-to what God tells us, and to how He tells it.

It contains two state

1. The import of the declaration. ments. The first tells us, in what He hath not, and the second, in what He hath, pleasure. Let us consider each of these separately.

“I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked." And yet the wicked dies. He who saith, "I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked," is He from whom came the message, "O wicked man, thou shalt surely die." The death of the finally impenitent is taken for granted. It is the mind of God regarding that certain event which the text calls us to consider. This passage gives no countenance to the idea that the death of the wicked is inconsistent with the mercy of God; for here we have divine