of childish years. But a greater acquaintance with the laws and workings of nature, greater study and greater thought have forced us, not to cast these beautiful stories aside, we cling to them yet-but to think of them in a very different way. We believe that they still have deep meaning for the religious life of men, Divine teaching for the human soul,-but that they are actual narratives of facts we cannot now believe."

(d) And there are yet others who say, "Yes, we believe the story, believe that it is actually and literally true." And if you ask these believers on what grounds they hold such a faith in this modern, scientific age, they will answer," Because we believe in Christ-we believe in His miracles, believe that He raised the dead, because we believe in Him. He first won us to faith in Himself, as the very Son of God, and then our old doubts as to His wonderful works took to themselves wings and flew away. By some means or other, which we think must have been the influence of God's own Spirit, that old creed has taken such deep root in our souls that no sceptical criticism seems able to drag it up-' And I believe in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary'and believing that, we can believe all the rest."

Brethren, who shall say that the reasoning is bad?

4. Now, granting that the story is true, let us think for a moment of our Lord's motive in bringing back life into the dead

man.

We read that it was compassion. The pale, haggard face of the weeping mother appealed to Him; her broken heart touched His heart. That was it. Did He not say at the very outset of His career, "God hath sent Me to heal the broken-hearted?"

And for my part, I think He had no other motive than that. It was enough for Him that this poor widow-woman was in trouble, trouble such as some of you have known perchance-He needed no other inducement to stretch forth His life-giving hand.

We are not told that she was a particularly deserving woman, and I believe Jesus would have acted as He did if she had been a very bad woman. She was in distress. That was enough. Nor do I for one moment think that He wished to establish His

own position, or add to His influence, or give proof of His divinity, or make sure His claim to Messiahship by performing this wonderful work. He simply wished to heal a broken heart, and He did it.

I do not like to think of Christ as having had mixed motives. To me it seems to take away His glory if you suppose that He had Himself and His position partly in view when He did His works of mercy. It would savour somewhat of the spirit of those "who for a pretence make long prayers," or give largely to charities when subscription lists are published. No, Christ was not like that. He was the healer of the broken-hearted. He went about doing good. He did not think of Himself. Self was lost sight of. The joy set before Him was not self-glorification here or hereafter, but the redemption of the lost. It was not that men might cry "Ecce Deus!" that He endured the cross, despising the shame, but that He might save, and sanctify, and bless His brothers and His sisters in body and soul.

5. There is a question which will, no doubt, occur to some in connection with this and the other stories of Christ's raising the dead. It is, where was the spirit of the dead person between the time of its departure from the body and its re-entrance into it?

If, as some hold, the soul has no conscious existence after death until the body is raised at the general resurrection, there is, of course, not much difficulty about the question. But most of us believe that the soul is conscious immediately after death, and it seems hard to suppose that Christ should call back a soul from Paradise to re-endure the sufferings and to renew the struggle of their earthly life. This, however, is what we are bound to suppose if we are consistent, if we believe that the dead were really raised, and that the soul enters upon conscious life as soon as it has left the body. But there is a noticeable fact which will, I think, afford us some explanation of this matter if we still cling to the orthodox idea. It is, that the several persons whom our Lord restored from death to life have left no record of their experiences.

Now one would naturally suppose that the first thing these people would do would be to get their knowledge of the other

world put into writing. This has not been done. May we not then suppose that they were unable to do so, and unable because the Power which called them from their graves blotted out from their memory the things that had happened to them? Effaced from the memory, those experiences would be as if they had not

been.

6. And I can imagine another question being asked. Why does Jesus never give us back our loved ones now? I can imagine a broken-hearted mother asking, "Why does He not recall my son to life? You say that He is all-powerful still. I am broken-hearted. My sorrow is as heavy as that of the widow of Nain. Why does He not heal my wound? Has He forgotten to be gracious now that He has ascended up on high?"

Oh, no, He has not forgotten. He is gracious still and pitiful. If He were now living here in flesh and blood, perhaps He might do it. And for the very reason that He is not any longer amongst us in the flesh, He no longer works physical miracles. He is amongst us only by His Spirit now, and His work is spiritual. And if poor mourners will but seek His sympathy He will soothe their pain, He will change that earthly longing to clasp in their arms again the earthly forms of their beloved dead, into a heavenly longing,—a longing to see them again, not here, but safe, and happy, and free from the burden of the flesh in the sweet and holy home above. He is saying to all sad hearts, even now, "Weep not." If you will listen reverently you may hear His voice, and He will put forth His hand and touch your soul with a touch of heavenly love.

7. In conclusion, let me remind you, not to frighten you, only to make you earnest, that a day will come when you will be carried forth from your home to be laid in the grave. All the plans and schemes that now you think so much of will be put aside then. All earthly treasures will have ceased to charm.

But death is not the end of existence, and one of the laws of God is this, that by the character we are forming here our lot will be determined in the land beyond the grave. Each goes to his own place, the place for which he has fitted himself.

For the righteous, those who have followed Jesus and taken

up the cross, there will be a conscious nearness to God, compared with which our earthly communion with Him is as darkness to sunlight. Yes, in His presence, on high, there is fullness of joy, at His right hand there are pleasures for evermore.

"It is not death to die

To leave this weary road,

And midst the brotherhood on high,

To be at home with God."

And now Christ calls us, that this joy may be ours. He bids us arise from the death of sin to the life of righteousness. "Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light."

MORETON-IN-MARSH.

J. KIRK PIKE.

Life Worth Living.

WHOSE I AM, AND WHOM I SERVE.”—Acts xxvii. 23.

THE Voyage of Paul, from Cæsarea towards Rome, was fraught with danger and disaster, culminating in shipwreck near the island, Malta, in the Mediteranean Sea. Paul had kept silence till the tempest became very alarming; he then lifted up his voice amid the raging elements, showing he was not in despair though destruction seemed so near, that he was not ashamed to own his Master in the most trying circumstances. While exhorting his fellow-passengers to "be of good cheer," he unfurled the flag of the Gospel, and exhibited his colours in words full of force and meaning,—“ Whose I am, and whom I serve.” His faith in God was not shaken by the fierce winds that blew, his inward peace was not disturbed by the huge waves that tossed and shattered the frail vessel; he knew that if the ship's company obeyed his commands not one of them would perish, but safely come to land. The words, "Whose I am," teach us

I. TO WHOM THE BELIEVER RIGHTEOUSLY BELONGS. On Mars' Hill Paul declared the fact that by creation we all belong to God. Our being comes from, and is sustained by Him. But, doubtless, here the apostle refers to the glorious fact that we are not our own, but are bought with a price, redeemed by the precious blood of Christ. The body of the apostle was in the custody of the Roman power, but his soul was in the keeping of Jesus. Not the sport of chance, the victim of fate, or the creature of circumstances, but the servant of the Lord. Though a prisoner, he was the Lord's free man; the dignity of Cæsar paled before the nobility of the prisoner Paul. O, that as Christians we could realize this great truth,—we belong to Christ. We are not at the bidding or purchase of whoever may bargain for us. Having escaped the bondage of Satan,-by solemn covenant and lifelong consecration, we present ourselves living sacrifices, holy and acceptable unto the Saviour. Our time, talents, all we have and are belong to Him. The words, "Whom I serve," teach us

II. FOR WHOM THE BELIEVER REJOICINGLY LABOURS. The apostle had a high and noble idea of service. When he was a Pharisee, and persecuted the Christians, he prosecuted his cruel work energetically, because he thought he was doing God's service. When he became converted, the first question was, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" When fully informed and equipped for his Master's service, he entered upon it with extraordinary enthusiasm, and nothing could move him from the accomplishment of his single aim and steadfast purpose. "I

was his motto. (a) He did not consult his own pleasure or will. He was prepared to engage in difficult, self-denying work, suffer any loss for Christ's sake. (b) He gave up all other masters. Withdrew from society and scenes that once engaged and absorbed the best energies of his soul. (c) He acted constantly as in his Master's presence. Though sometimes deserted by men, he never felt alone; he could do all things through Christ who strengthened him. Communion and companionship with Christ kept his faith from faltering, his love from growing cold. (d) He subordinated everything to the smile of his Master. Not indifferent to the kindness and appreciation of men, he nevertheless