ceived. Nor is it only from positive wickedness, or actual affliction, that we find ourselves so beset with sorrows, but even in the holiest, and what ought to be the happiest moments, some blot of grief finds place. We meet for prayer, but our numbers are so thin; we look for sympathy, but some difference of opinion steps in, and checks it; we join together for some holy object, but a lukewarm member hangs back and thwarts us. We strive to love Christ, and the world round us laughs. Everywhere on all sides we feel our Lord's words to be true, "In the world ye shall have tribulation." But what? Shall all this beat us down? God forbid. Nay, come, look at it manfully, christianly! Why, such as we are here, sorrow is a positive good; for think! if with sin the world were happy, we should never look for a better. Sorrow is a mercy. ‘Yes, I must have and meet it,' the Christian says, 'but it is only for a "little while." Shall I give in to it? Have I forgotten those words, "Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world ?" If it be so indeed, blessed Jesus! give me in Thy strength and name to overcome too. Give me to look upon sorrow, as all that sin now can do against me, and to press all the more towards Thy appearing.

There seems to be no more true test of a

deep Christian spirit than the desire to be with Christ; than the power of feeling His presence to be what we really want. And so it is that sorrow and tribulation often bring it out. Under their pressure the soul becomes awakened to a sense of the disappointing nature of earthly things, and aware that this life is indeed a valley of tears But yet of course the spirit that we ought to be of is neither restlessness on the one side, nor mere light-heartedness on the other. It must not be a mere desire for heaven, because only we feel life so uncomfortable just at present, whilst we are under affliction. Nor must it be a mere indifference of disposition, which makes us pass lightly through the world only because we do not. feel deeply about any thing. We must not deceive ourselves with either of these shadows of Christian joy, these pretences to a desire for Christ's presence; but our sense of a Saviour's work, our adoration of the Saviour's character, our consequent longing for the Saviour's presence, must be that charm which shall render life's necessary sorrows bearable, though grievous for the present they must always be. His coming again and seeing us will be the

signal that

they are all past, and the trial over. Here, now, we have daily felt that a thousand things could spoil our happiness. No plan hardly has been

ever formed, but disappointment has found a place in it; no fond hope cherished, but it has met a blight. Our joy here even at the best has been at the mercy not only of man to spoil, but of far lower instruments, and indeed of quite trifling circumstances. But the distinctive mark of heavenly joy, is its firm unchangeableness. The peculiar excellence of the happiness which will arise from the presence of the Lamb-the Saviour-is, that it cannot be taken away. And why? why because it will be a happiness founded on the enjoyment of His presence who is from everlasting. The Rock of Ages will be the groundwork. The "everlasting Son" will be the cornerstone. Safe in the bosom of the Good Shepherd, the lamb will dread no more the teeth of the "roaring lion." Safe in the "tabernacle not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," the once poor and outcast wanderer will dwell for ever an heir of glory. Safe in the ark of the Church triumphant, the once buffeted and stormbeaten mariner will for ever have passed the waves of this troublesome world. In the midst of the armies of the Prince of peace, what should there be, what can there be, but peace for ever and ever. Amen.

JOHN HENRY PARKER, OXFORD AND LONDON.

Tracts for the Christian Seasons.

FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.

Our Lord present, though risen.

FOR forty days Christ continued on earth after He rose from the dead. After His resurrection, some mysterious change had come over His body. It was prepared, if we may so say, for its flight on high, where it was to "pass through the heavens." Yet the Son of God appeared in the same body which had been pierced, and with the same pure, loving, and compassionate soul, which had won the reverent love of those who were in their measure like to Him. And being on His way to carry the proofs and trophies of His sufferings and victory into the presence of God, He tarried for a while upon the earth. In His journey from the lower parts of the earth to the highest heaven, He paused for forty days, sojourning for a little while in this middle world. These forty days were strange days to the disciples, and all those who believed on and loved the Son of

Man they were living all this time in a state of solemn expectation, of breathless awe, of wonder and of joy, mixed with fear. There was a great mystery going on near them, and they could not tell what would come of it. The rumour was now spread about that the Lord whom they had mourned had been seen alive again. And the first report gained strength as it spread wider, and as the days passed on, more witnesses came forward and declared that they had again "seen and heard and handled the word of life." "He was seen of Cephas, then of the twelve, after that He was seen of above five hundred brethren at once, after that He was seen of James, then of all the Apostles." So the truth became known and noised abroad. Now among the multitudes who had seen Him working His mighty works, and listened to His persuasive words, were many who were drawn irresistibly to love Him; of these many had been keeping the feast at Jerusalem, and could not fail on their return to commune among themselves on all the things which they had seen and heard.

The news reached those villages and towns where He had taught, that the great teacher, the Prophet mighty in word and deed, had died on the accursed tree; but that He had since shewn