that they were pilgrims and strangers on the earth; they desired a heavenly country, and they have found that city which they sought, and found it to be a city which continues; they have come at last to the eternal home. Aye, and blessed indeed is that home. Hallowed is an earthly home, the fountain of all life, the spring of all joys, the nursery of all high and noble thought, the brightest and most hallowed spot. on earth, which a good man worships and even bad men love. Blessed, holy home! And yet thy blessedness is but a shadow, thy light is only dimness, thy sunlike radiance is dull as moonbeams, if I measure thee beside that better home in Heaven. There no cloud can darken, there no tears can fall, there nothing good is fleeting, change never enters in; for love is there infinite, and time has ceased to be, and the Lamb is the life and light of all things, and God the everlasting Father reveals His glory and is all in all.

And this, my brethren, is our home. For this end we were born into the world; for this, when sin had made us fallen creatures, we were born again. Are we seeking it? Here we have no continuing city. This earth is not a place in which we can find those true abiding goods which man needs. The things which satisfy the heart and can give it lasting happiness are not here, but they are there. Do we seek them there? The Apostle speaking in behalf of all Christians says, We seek a city which is to come. Are we engaged on this search? Are we looking for that kingdom which cannot be moved? Well for us if we are. But what if we are not? Then, alas, we shall have no house in which to live when earth vanishes and the rains of judgment fall.

Let us, then, try to remember always that this is not our home. We are pilgrims here. We are here but for a little day. God has sent us here to try us, to know what we are made of, to see what we will choose. He has placed us in a wilderness, and He tells us that beyond the wilderness and across the deep stream of death there is a good land, where He Himself is, and where all good things abound, and that here we must shift as we can and travel with all speed, and never linger by the way, or rest in our tents, as if they were strong houses, or in the wayside inns which we may meet with, as if they were meant to be our home. While we live here we must live as travellers live. A traveller looks back to the point from which he started, and looks forward to it also as the goal at which he must end. If he meets with things which please him he rests not in them, he contents not himself with them as though they were his end, but he takes such pleasure as he finds and looks further forward, and rests not but keeps hastening on. And, on the other hand, if troubles vex him, if weariness oppress his body, if comforts fail him, if his needs are unsupplied, he falls back on the support which hope can give him and he cheers himself by saying, 'It is not for me to be put out with things like these. I am but on a journey. I must expect disquiet. I cannot look in a wilderness for all that I might find at home. But I shall soon be home, and then it will be well.' So should it be with us. If goods abound, if we are rich in earthly blessings, we must look beyond these to those better goods which only we may love. If cares annoy, we must silence sorrow, and live by hoping for that better land which is far away.

There is a better land than earth. Oh that we could live here as though we felt that it should be our home hereafter. Oh that we could teach ourselves how empty all things are which lead not to that heavenly fulness. Oh that we could persuade our hearts that nothing has any worth except so far as it can help us to gain that rest, and secure for us that place which Christ prepares for all who love Him.

Are your hearts there, dear brethren? Have you sent them on before you and are you now following where they have gone before? Is the hope of seeing God and being satisfied in Him the star by which your life is guided, and the one thing for which you live? Do you sit loose to everything on earth, and fasten yourself to that one purpose which makes God your only end? If not, then hear me when I tell you that here have we no continuing city, but should seek one to come. And hear not me only, but listen to the lost ones who cry out for fear of coming judgment and say, 'Would that we had known while life lasted the things which belonged to our peace.' And listen also to the saints, who from their rest and place of expectation look on to that bliss which is coming towards them, and tell you that there is a home indeed for all who love God, brighter than hope painted, more blessed than all that they desired, a city which must last for ever because God abides in it for evermore. The saints on earth invite you to cast in your lot with them and leave a world which perisheth. The saints departed call to you and ask you to follow on that road which they know to be the road to bliss. And Christ your Lord implores you to come to that eternal mansion where a door is open, and there is room for you.

ness;

And whence is it that Christ your Lord is speaking? He speaks to you from his manger cradle. The place from which His voice issues is the village inn. He tells you, 'For you I have become a pilgrim. I have left my home above. I have stripped myself of all my glory. I have emptied myself of all my brightand I am come to be a stranger and a wayfarer. And why? That I might save you. I have come down to earth that you may go to Heaven. I have made myself low that you may be made high. I am poor that you may be rich. I have nothing that you may have all things.' Surely we cannot hear such words as these, and still go on as though Christ had never saved us. The very stones must break their peace and cry from every wall around us, if we see Christ travelling to earth for us and yet refuse to be wayfarers along with Him, journeying where He would lead us, to that continuing city, which is our rest, our end, our home.