merely affected and forced, and how much as the natural and true. I love the brethren in the every-day garb, who thinking humbly of their own godliness, are more inclined to conceal their inward life, than to hold it up to public gaze; but who meantime cannot prevent the light of their inward self being reflected through the loose folds of their unassuming exterior garments, and who resemble the uncomely grey clouds, which only pour forth ordinary showers; but which, when the sun shines into them, immediately delight our eye and heart with the sweet brilliancy of the soft rainbow of peace.

The more completely a man has found in Christ his all in all, the more distinctly will be manifest a knowledge of pure truth. Christians who fancy they must possess partly in themselves the ground of their acceptance with God, will always, more or less, carry about them something of boastfulness and display. For the sake, indeed, of their hope of heaven it is, as they think, absolutely requisite, that they should be seen invariably in a certain godly attire, as also it must be of no little moment to them, to hear pronounced by others the sweet opinion, that they are pious, and anointed and righteous people. Alas! it is indeed in the sand of self-glory that their anchor rests: what wonder that they are ever occupied with shovels or brooms to keep it in a perfect heap together. With those who have grace, it is otherwise : they are free royal people, elevated above the judgment of others as they are above their own heart, by the consciousness that as their heart condemns them not, God is greater than their heart, and knows all things. These do not give themselves up to frivolous reliance upon self-works. Rich in golden virtues in Christ, they value not all those copper coins, as they are not taken

into account in the great balancing of accounts before the Lord, because there, besides the merits of the citizenship, none others will either be required or admitted. Conscious of the righteousness of Christ as their own, they are not taken up with dress or personal adornment. They possess it, but they attach no extraordinary value to it, because they do not in any way found upon it their salvation and life. Rich, as they are, in spiritual practice and experience, they nevertheless do not cleave to this treasure. Their object in view is something else. They exist beyond themselves. Thus they resemble real kings, who, in the consciousness of the dignity truly inherent in them, pass on in majestic simplicity and unrestrainedness, and abandon to the his trionic kings, the motley-coloured robes and bombastic gravity. The others resemble just such as must enact kings, and therefore are forced to depend upon tinsel gold, frippery and spangles.

II.

Elisha's situation is a critical one, and arrests our attention afresh; and indeed the dearest of God's children do not always appear in the roseate hues of life, but more frequently resemble the thorn-crowned figure of Him who is their love. Undoubtedly it is so fixed by God, that so long as Christ himself awaits the complete fulfilment of his heavenly glory, his people shall also remain under a veil of obscurity, and the glory of the servant, as well as that of the Lord, shall only exist in faith. That we must enter through "much tribulation" into God's kingdom, is, according to Scripture, unavoidable. God knows the elasticity of the regenerated soul, by means of which, the more heavily it is oppressed, the more it aspires towards heaven.

P

It is usually imagined, that after the one great sacrifice of a broken heart has been offered to God, there is then an end to the all-offering. What has it not cost, before we laid at his feet the heart, so deeply buried in sin and lust? What denials have not been submitted to? Now, we think, He will lead us gently and smoothly onwards, and only strew our path with flowers of joy. But how far different is it soon found to be, when we are called upon for continually fresh denials, and when, if one wound is healed, it is followed by another, perhaps a still more painful one! When we have planned out for ourselves a little paradise, whether in domestic happiness, in the field of our official operations, or elsewhere; how soon is it swept away from before our eyes, in order that such an earthly idea may not be established within us, and that a holy yearning for Jerusalem may be kept alive and glowing. We shall not pass away with earthly things. If it were otherwise, how soon would the storms of life uproot us. Our hopes and desires should entwine themselves around the imperishable. To live on this side of the grave, as already in eternity and its joys, is the noble vocation of the people of God.

My walk to-day led me past a building site, where they were occupied in hewing down a massive lindentree. The root of the lofty tree was already undermined all around, exposed to the light of day, and the moment was not far distant, when the thick-leaved giant, coiled about with strong cords, must fall with all its weight to the ground. Despite of this, however, a crowd of lively, busy urchins continued their gambols around it. Some leaned against it, and carelessly cut their names in its bark; some even ventured to essay climbing

up its tottering trunk; nay, one of them actually was seated amidst its boughs, and seemed scarcely to heed the warning strokes of the workmen beneath. And behold, a bird came in full wing, and resting upon one of the loftiest of its branches, began to warble forth its spring song. I thought to myself, then: Behold yonder, a picture of the world, and a picture of the pursuits and operations of its children. Is not the world like a tree which is being deeply undermined?—the world which in its present form has indeed equally its end, and is dedicated to destruction. And yet fools dream of immortality, if they have but imprinted their name in its bark, and cling to the tottering world as if it would continue for ever; they fix themselves in the withering foliage of their desires, while perhaps even to-day it sinks for ever from under their feet. But in the bird yonder at the tree-top is mirrored the image of the holy of the Lord. Assuredly they also dwell in a perishable world. If God builds for them a tabernacle of temporal happiness, they are satisfied; but they sit with wings outspread in the shady branches, ready to soar aloft. If the tree falls, it does not involve them in its destruction; they spring up from it when it bows its head, and taking wing, soar aloft, chanting their lay. O, there is not on earth a more sublime position than that of a mortal, who untiringly keeps eternity in view, and is firmly fixed in the prospect of his futurity in heaven. Such an one soars, as the prophet says, above the heights of the earth, and he sees all things differently from others. There are a thousand things, valued by the world as the highest and most worthy attainments, which he regards as motley-coloured frivolities; the feelings with which he contemplates and

estimates these vaunted glories, being analogous to those with which a man of mature age looks down upon the gambols of thoughtless children. Magnanimous in selfdenial, as in forgiveness, equally removed from a vain complaisance to men and from frivolous fear of men, he is the truly free man, bound by nothing but by the word of his Lord. The mundane circumstances in which he lives adhere no more closely to him than do the snowflakes of the earth to the home-bound crane. Open towards his brethren, sincere and without pretension, he stands among them no less distinguished, than the shining pinnacle of the alp amidst the mountains, which, for the comfort of the night traveller, bears upon its point the rosy reflection of approaching day.

But we were speaking of Elisha's situation. No, friendly and luring it certainly was not. How must it have troubled his loving heart, already to behold the Samaritans environed with such terrors of God; and yet that was not the most bitter cup by far which he had yet to drink. The danger which was threatened him in Jehoram's murderous plan, and which has already been described, was by no means the chief of his calamities. To die is, for the children of God, so little an evil, that it is rather their highest gain, because it leads them to their looked-for crown. Those who, like Elisha, stand alone in the world, ought not to confer upon death the honour, nor cast upon Christ the shame, of their being terrified at the grave. Where one is enchained to life by wife and child, and tears of helpless orphans fall upon the death-bed, the separation may be the more painful when that is the case; and he who moves along his path, though solitary and isolated, yet