it by and by from thy heart of hearts. Thou hast need of the lessons thou art learning. Thou hast found thine own strength to be weakness, and now thou wilt seek to stand in God's strength. Thou hast thought of life only, as if it were forever; now thou wilt think of death, and learn to look it in the face without fear. Thou hast had thy hopes and treasures all on the earth; thou wilt have them in heaven now, and the way will be shorter. Be of cheerful heart then, and faint not, for the Lord is thy refuge, and he will comfort thee.

"When Israel from his place of shame,
The Egyptian land of bondage, came,
By doubt and terror bowed;

Tho' legions on her path did pour,

And trackless waters rolled before,

God led the host in safety o'er,
By pillared fire and cloud.

"So in man's pilgrimage below,

In all his wandering and woe,

See God's sustaining hand;

His winds breathe o'er the troubled tide,

His words the opposing waves divide,

He leads, a never-failing guide,

On to the better land."

IV.

Peace in Believing.

And thou, who o'er thy friend's low bier
Sheddest the bitter drops like rain,
Know that a brighter, happier sphere
Shall give him to thy arms again.
For God hath marked each anguished day,
And numbered every secret tear;
And heaven's long age of bliss shall pay
For all his children suffer here.

HAT a blessed heritage of strength and trust, of peace and comfort, we

have in the gospel of our Lord. What help to us in our weakness, what a soothing balm to the lacerated heart, when the objects of our affection are taken from us, to know that they are, by the mercy of God, lifted into a higher and more blessed life than

they could ever have attained to on earth. How it lightens our burthen to feel assured that much as we lose by their death and departure, they gain infinitely more than we lose. We love them; and that it is why it is so hard to part with them, why our sorrow is so sharp and keen-we love them; and that is the reason why we struggle against our tears, knowing that they are glorified in heaven. It is for ourselves only that we grieve, not for them; and when we think of all the evils they have escaped, and of all the joys they have won, we feel that it would be selfishness to wish them back again.

We cannot be indifferent to the loss of their society, to our loneliness, to the vacancy in our hearts, to the silence and shadow which brood over the places they filled in our homes. The most perfected Christian on earth must mourn when the precious jewels of his household are taken away, when the objects of his most tender regard are shut from his sight in the cold, dark grave. God knows that we are

of the dust, and not of iron. He knows the well-springs of human affection in our hearts, and the pain with which we see a great hope crushed, or a great joy leave us. He does not therefore tell us that we must not sorrow, but only that we should not sorrow as those who are without hope.

"Our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even our Father, which hath loved us, hath given us everlasting consolation and good hope through grace," that we might be strong in the day of bereavement. The resurrection of Christ has shown us that the dear ones who leave us "are not lost, but gone before" to the life immortal; that the body only returns to the dust whence it came, but the spirit to God who gave it! This is the Christian's hope and faith respecting the departed; and he finds comfort, joy even, in his sorrow, persuaded that the dead, the beloved one who has passed over the river," has gained the crown of immortal life and joy. He can say therefore, in truth,

"All thy toils and cares are over;

Weary pilgrim take thy rest;
God in mercy hath recalled thee
To thy place among the blest;

And though now we miss and mourn thee,
Ours are not despairing tears;

Well we know we all shall meet thee,

In a few revolving years."

O how blessed, how beautiful is the Christian faith to the mourner who bends over the dying, or stands at the grave of one who has been loved with deepest tenderness. What a celestial light is sent down into the valley of death by the glad promise of the gospel, the promise that love is immortal, that the affections which bind us so strongly together here cannot be gathered into the grave, cannot die at all. What peace and resignation in the thought, that they who leave us live on as though they had not left us,-nay, do now live more truly than ever before, in a world the glories and the joys of which eye hath not seen, nor the heart conceived.

The transformation which lifts the painfully crawling worm from the dust of the earth into