full of thanksgiving for her. I thought, that her Christian proi and the little motherless fession had never in any way been er, four and a half years old, dimmed, that she had “kept the I near the grave. "The house faith" until the end, and that the lem was darkened all at once,” | “crown of life” was now hers. r. Sale pathetically said, but | “They shall come from the east had passed into the region of and the west and the north and the and joy. And even in the south, and shall sit down with Abra of our sympathy with them ham and Isaac and Jacob, in the eir sorrow, we could not but | kingdom of heaven.'' a feeling of satisfaction at the ! 199 LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. U N BY THE REV. THOMAS FISK. It shall come to pass, that at evening time it shall be light.”—Zech. xiv. 7. E writer of these words was once a youthful captive in Babylon the rest of God's banished people, though at this time he was ed with the prophet Haggai in stirring up the flagging faith of ame people, whom God had recalled from slavery by His servant 1. Years ago they had begun to rebuild the ruined temple at alem, but one difficulty after another had quenched their zeal, and riven them into themselves, until all their care seemed for their ocial ease and comfort, for money and ceiled houses. From this low the prophet seeks to raise them. He felt the past did teach the ul lesson that man's extremity was Jehovah's opportunity. In rening time of captivity, God's light of deliverance had shone. e evening time of Samaritan opposition and jealousy and missentation, he still felt that if they would be but true to Israel's the light of success would surely beam forth. The darker the nd the harder the toil, the more such a God might be confidently d upon. z prophet, however, is directly referring in these words to the d coming of the Messiah. It will be the eventide of the world The morning and noon of the day of grace will have passed The Church will be struggling on against superstition and y, sufferings and temptations. It will not be day nor night; will be dimmed by the darkness, wisdom hampered by ignorance, ringled with sorrow, zeal marred by folly. Many will be the er of the weeping prophets who, as the evening time deepens, lescry the black wings of eternal night swooping down upon the 1. But then it shall come to pass that Christ who is the light come, the whole earth shall be filled with His glory, and this lecy will be duly fulfilled, that “at evening time it shall be w let me remind you that these words are equally as true of every genuine individual member of the Messiah's Church. We hav our eventide. Our aged friend whose death we gently mouri reached the evening time of her life at the goodly age of seventy three. But the shades of evening may gather round us at a muc earlier age. We call early death, premature death; but God doe not. In due time each is called away. The shortest Christian lif hath its May morning, its summer noontide, as well as evening. Ang the fact being so, we should be found the more prayerful, watchful earnest, and holy. Already, dear fellow-member, the noon of you life may have passed away; already the long-drawn shadows of the afternoon may be proclaiming it is near evening; already the shaded night, of death, is thickening upon you: are you ready for the evenin time? will it be light with you then? or only a dark passage int that utter darkness ? If you be a sincere lover of Christ, and tha love irresistibly leading thee from sin, nearer and nearer to God; He be to thee Sin-bearer and Sanctifier, be assured on the unchang ing word of the Most High, that “at evening time it shall be light." "At evening time it shall be light." There is divine consolation in that, for that is just the time when our poor unbelieving humal nature does not expect the light. At evening time you expect dark ness. The sun is setting then. The mists and fogs begin to ris then. The pleasant hum of busy life is hushed to silence then. W wait for the night. In fact, it is against all our notion of things t expect the light. And if we as Christians honestly and solemnly tr to realize in anticipation our dying hour, how little of light, hor much of darkness we possess! Fancy yourself on the bed of sickness the keen arrows of pain sorely and ceaselessly wounding you, the struggle for dear life becoming fainter and fainter, and the conscious. ness that every step you take in that shadowy valley is altogether new; why, you shrink from the prospect, it is too painful for you. Human nature cries, “It will be dark, very dark then.” Unbelief asserts vehemently, “No eye can pity then, no arm can be outstretched to save.” Fear and foreboding look on in blank dismay. It is well-nigh impossible not to expect darkness at that hour. But God says to your faith and mine, It shall be light then!” He means to disap. point His children. He will prove your human nature, your unbe Tief, your fear, all wrong then. When the shades of death grow thickest, when human sympathy can no longer soothe you, then mildly rising and beaming warmly on your soul, the Sun of righteousnes and glory shall appear, and it shall be very light. Ah, how many have been disappointed by God in this way! They were in bondag all their life through fear of death, but when the dreaded time came it was so utterly different from all they had feared, so gloriously light they would scarce have minded dying a thousand such deaths. Our sister with fear and trembling approached death; she wished the afternoon might be drawn out for a while longer; but before the night had come, the day bad dawned, and I heard her from far down the valley softly saying “ Jesus can make a dying bed And breathe my life out sweetly there. t evening time it shall be light.” There is Divine mercy in that, is just the time you need the light most. There is everything th to unnerve and paralyze mere human strength. The sinking fainting into utter helplessness or tortured with dire pain. The sense of loneliness, caused by the knowledge that your best and i friends cannot rescue you from the power of death. You are in that great struggle, and feel you are being beaten down. above all, there are those throes of conscience, sending earth shocks through every part and portion of your nature ; past ing, long buried, coming to remembrance; the sense of condemnathe expectation of an adverse judgment at the bar of God; the f falling into hell fire; these things make dying the sorest, the solemn and awful hour of our being, our season of greatest need. ejoice, fellow Christian, that is just the very hour when all-suffihelp is yours. To you it shall be light! I do not say that then hall simply lie in the summer light of God until death come. emember it is eventide. There must be some shadows; but ere ventide can darken into night, it shall, indeed it shall, be light. ight of His clear truth will beam upon your mind, and dispel fears and undefined terrors that may rise ; and you shall feel le man who built his house upon the rock ; the winds blew, the came, and beat upon that house, and it fell not. The light of ing grace will shine into your conscience, blotting out once and er the multiplied sins of a lifetime. The light of His warm and love will flood thy soul, and you shall know with divinest asce that He is thy Resurrection and thy Life, and because He you will live also. The light of dawning immortality will so reand invigorate you, that thy youth will be renewed like the s. Yes, brother, He is our faithful Friend and Saviour; He is st when you want Him most; and when your path is darkest, ses with unwonted refulgence. Our sister was surrounded in that hour with none of the luxuries or comforts of wealth; but a mere ul remained of those who called her “ Friend :" in poverty, in ness, in terrible pain, she lay down to die, and lo! at eventide it ight! it evening time it shall be light." See you yon sculptor fashionvith a marvellous skill the rough block of marble, into subtle ess to himself! It has been a life's work with him. During the ous morning he toiled most lustily; through the weary noon he ed not his diligence to faint; and now as the evening time comes is hand grows more obedient to the steady eye, and sweetly delitouches are given to the well-nigh breathing marble; at length, she gloaming deepens, the light of accomplished purpose, of i fulfilled, shines upon him. And did not Christ liken His own life to a day of twelve hours, during which appointed time appointe work was to be done, ere the night in which no man can work ha come? And is not Christ, the Great Artificer, fashioning believir souls after His own most glorious likeness ? Is He not at wor every hour of the day of life? To our faith does He not add courag to courage knowledge, to knowledge temperance, to temperanc patience, to patience godliness, to godliness brotherly kindness, to brotherly kindness the love of all mankind ? Is He not labouring ti mould us unto the fulness of His own Divine stature ? and will H not eventually present us spotless and complete, without wrinkle o any such thing ? To my mind, the hour of death is the evening time when Jesus is giving the last moulding touches to the believing soul then His sanctifying work is brought to a successful termination er His glorifying work begins. At death, it may fitly be said of eac disciple, “It is finished !” for Jesus has done His best for that sou as far as this probationary state is concerned. He has finished the work the Father gave Him to do on that heart, and at eventide it i light. The light of permanent success dawns; another soul is saved from sin; saved from hell; another soul meetened for glory. Geth semane and Calvary have not been in vain. The Spirit not given fo nought. Jesus sees of the travail of His soul and is satisfied. T Him, and to the dying Christian who is one with Him, it is light a eventide. Only let us remember we are not cold marble in His hands, bu “ living stones ;" therefore let us be co-workers with Him, not hinder ing, still less marring that work, by our perversity and sloth; s0 lovingly plastic to His touch, yielding in His hands, obedient to his Spirit, that the eventide may find us not as those saved as by fire, but as those who in the full manhood of Christlikeness, enter as by right through the gates into the city. “At evening time it shall be light.” Light! but from whence comes that light? The prophet says, from the Messiah, from the smitten Shepherd, from the all-conquering Lord, from the universal King. Millions of souls since the days of Zechariah have found dying is but the coming of the Lord, who is Himself the light. Such light is this, that no darkness of pain or fear or guiltiness can quench it. When He is apprehended in the divinity of His character, the humanity of His affection, the freeness of His grace, the efficacy of His mediation, the all-sufficiency of His atonement, then such light arises in the dark.) ness that straightway it is day. Christ thus present-agony is borne easily, shame ceases to sting, fear is smitten dumb, unbelief petrified in death, and sin eternally disowned. Martyrs many a time have clapped their hands for very joy in the flames that were consuming their flesh, because Christ shone forth so brightly at their eventide. Our friend felt that, were it not for Him, dying would be overwhelm. ingly cheerless and full of despair. Yes, Christ and Christ only 18 the light then. Some, we know, will persist in taking the glimmering rushlight of priestly absolution, of sacramental efficacy, of self-rigate |