the wild beast's den, are no longer the ordeals through which the faith and the endurance of the saints are called on to pass. "The remainder of wrath" has been held in check in our time by the great head of the Church; not indeed for any deservings of ours, but in the wisdom of his own providence, and for ends and purposes suited to the deep counsels of the Divine will. And this consideration will suggest three reflections to us of much importance.

1. How deep is the debt of gratitude we owe to him. for granting us such a season of quiet and rest as for so long a season we have been permitted to enjoy. When the tempest-tossed vessel of the Church had buffeted for centuries the waves and the storms of this troublesome world-when destruction and ruin appeared from time to time nigh at hand-when the little feeble crew which manned her were well nigh sinking in despair, and almost tempted to cry, like the faithless ones of old,-" Save! Lord, or we perish;" then he who outwardly appeared to have been slumbering, but whose eye of vigilant care and watchful love never for a moment wandered from his people; then he arose and rebuked the winds and the sea; he said, "Peace! be still," and there was a great calm. Yes, beloved, he has during our day allayed the fury of the oppressor, and ought we not to have the liveliest emotions of gratitude in our heart to him, who has thus "made us to differ." As it was in the days of Barak, the highways in Israel were unoccupied, and the travellers walked through bye-ways,-so it had been for ages in the visible church; the true pilgrim to Zion's holy city was driven out of sight, into dens, and caves, and into the wilderness, until the Lord of the country gave the land rest from her enemies. How ought our hearts then to be filled with the movements of gratitude, and our lips

opened to shew forth his praise, who has thus made the "rough places plain " before his children.

2. Another reflection which follows closely on the former is, What use have we made of this season of rest and quiet so graciously vouchsafed to us? Surely when our beloved Master had "removed all our enemies" from us on every side-when he had given us outward peace, and abundant prosperity, we might expect to behold a wondrous putting forth of Christian vigour; surely we might expect to see the Church lengthening her cords, and strengthening her stakes, and breaking forth on the right hand and on the left, to possess the gates of her enemies. That there have been some tokens of this we joyfully and gratefully acknowledge that these, however, have borne any proportion to the opportunities and means vouchsafed, we are compelled with shame and confusion of face to deny. With the subsiding of the storm, which threatened to shatter to pieces the ark of the church, there has been no continued and enlarged zeal manifested to bring the vessel into the haven. Some have toiled and laboured manfully and faithfully; but carnal security and love of ease have crept over others, and the great bulk of professing Christians have seemed to be content to resign themselves to a slumbering inactivity, while the sun shines, and the sea is calm, at the imminent peril of being roused from their carelessness at an hour and in a way they little expected. Alas! it would appear by painful experience to be too true, that there is less danger to the church in the storm, than when she is being lulled to sleep on the lap of the world's favour: and how full of bitterness is the reflection to each believer, that he is less easily taught by the whispers of his Father's love, than by the rod of his Father's correction.

3. But we must not forget that, although outward violence no longer exists against the church of Christ, the same power of darkness which urged on persecution, is on the alert and in the midst of us, straining every nerve to vex, to harass, to hurt and to impair the church. He is using different weapons; but his animosity, his subtlety and his power are the same. He has not laid aside the garb of an angel of light, nor does he yet cease by his agents to plead the "doing God service" for his real opposition to the people of God. But here is the great security of the church-"We are not ignorant of his devices." Jesus warned his disciples beforehand, that when tribulation arose, they might remember that he had told them. So we have likewise clear cautions and warnings laid before us; and if we do but use our lamp aright, we shall not only be able to unmask all the cunning of our adversary, and see through all his specious appearances -we shall also gather confirmation and strength to our faith, from his very assaults, seeing that these are just happening, as it was predicted they should. The very buffetings of Satan will arouse us to a sense of our danger; and instead of smiting us down under fear and spiritual torpor, we shall the more earnestly and promptly arise and call upon our God. The knowledge, the remembrance, that these things are not coming on us without a note of preparation from our Master, will, through the blessing of God, build us up in his confidence, "The Lord is on my side, I will not fear what flesh can do unto me "He is on my right hand, therefore I shall not be greatly moved."

And these things, adds Jesus, "I said not unto you at the beginning;" I did not clearly lay down these truths to you at the beginning; I have not thought it expedient

heretofore to make known these things to you, "because I was with you," because you have as yet the blessing of my presence to give you light in every difficulty, and of my power to deliver you in every danger; but as I am about to leave you, I warn you of what you may expect in my absence, that you may take unto you the whole armour of God; for be assured that since they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you, when your Master and Lord is removed from you.

"And now I go my way to him that sent me." The minds of the disciples were weighed down with grief and sorrow at the prospect of their Master's approaching sufferings, and at the intimation which he had given them of their own. They appeared indeed to be well nigh swallowed up of over-much sorrow; for when the Saviour again repeated the assurance that he was going to his Father and to their Father, to his God and to their God, he failed to elicit more joyous hopes, or more cheerful emotions in the hearts of his trembling followers. They had in fact not attained the true Christian magnanimity of character. They were not yet so filled with love to Christ as to forget their sorrows in his glory; else "they would have rejoiced when he said unto them I go away," instead of calling forth the affectionate reproof of our Lord. "None of you asketh me, whither goest thou?" Alas, how little impression does the disinterested love of the Saviour make on the hard and stony heart of man. He forgot his sorrows, in the love he bore his people; but they could not draw off their thoughts from the "light afflictions" awaiting them, to dwell with rapturous joy on the approaching glory of their Lord. "Because I have said these things, sorrow hath filled your heart." The believer's heart is indeed more easily filled with his griefs,

than with "all the fulness" of his God and Saviour. "None of you asketh me, whither goest thou?" You have no question to ask concerning the glorious place I am now about to re-enter. Sorrow broods so heavily on your souls, that you forget the bright shining of the sun beyond; you are so cast down by the prospect of the suffering, that you altogether forget it is "not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed;" you are so wrapped up in the sadness of your own selfish forebodings, that you fail to pierce through the gloom, and gaze on the bright and cloudless sky of the kingdom, whither I am going to prepare a place for you.

Believer, guard, I beseech you, against indulging in a selfish sorrow. It is wonderful how soon a selfish heart taints even the best emotions of the mind;-unlike the philosopher's stone, which turns all the dross to gold— the idol self turns all the gold to dross. If we are afflicted with the bereavement of friends, what is the sting of our sorrow? it is because we are left. If worldly means fail us, our comfort is impaired. If the world looks coldly on us, our self-esteem is affected. Would that this spirit were less manifested among the people of God. Would that we more constantly, and more habitually "looked unto Jesus;" to rejoice with him, than to ourselves, to mourn over our own troubles. Would that while the world frowned, we ever lived in the sunshine of his peace. Would that while we receive our portion of suffering here, we ever looked within the veil. Would that earth only might bear witness to our trials, while heaven bore witness to our joy.