the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world!" 1 John ii. 2.

This, then, is the judgment after death, viz: the judgment of justification, of cleansing and redemption, which Christ procures for the world by his death, by his own blood, shed for the remission of sin. For "he gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of goodworks."

And as the people waited in the outer court for the appearance of the high priest, who came forth, on the completion of the sacrifice, to announce to them that they were justified before the Lord, all their sins being blotted out; so the apostle represents Christ as appearing a second time, to the waiting and expectant world, "without sin unto salvation." The word rendered "sin" here, means "sin-offering." After his atoning sacrifice, he comes "without a sin offering," because no more is needed, since his "blood cleanseth us from all sin;" he comes "unto salvation," to bring salvation to the world looking for him as the great Deliverer, who is to lead them to the joy that is within the veil, whither he, as our forerunner, hath entered for us. And so the judgment after death is only another confirmation of the universal justification and redemption in Christ.

CHAPTER VIII.

OF REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS.

SECTION I.

THE REWARDS OF RIGHTEOUSNESS.

Those who have truly known the joys of experimental religion, the sweet peace of believing in Jesus and trusting in God, will scarcely require any instruction as to what constitutes the proper rewards of faith, and love, and obedience, of holiness and true piety. They have the testimony in their own souls, and fully understand those sayings of the Master: "The kingdom of God is within you;" "The kingdom of heaven is righteousness, and peace, and the joy of the Holy Spirit." Such as these expect no reward for living a Christian life, but the supreme blessedness of the life itself. They are grateful to God, that he has "delivered them from the power of darkness, and translated them into the kingdom of his dear Son, in whom they have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins;" (Col. i.,) and they look forward to the bliss of the life immortal, as the "free gift of God," and not as anything to which they are entitled by faith, or by obedience to that divine law made for their own good, and in the keeping of which there is great reward.

But there are those who need instruction on this

point; and it is important that they should be led to review the whole question of Righteousness and its Rewards; both from the stand point of the inner life of the soul, and from the direct teachings of Revelation. It is needful that they should become acquainted with the laws of our moral and spiritual nature, and the manner in which these work out their results in the daily experiences of life. Let us, then, proceed to investigate this all-important subject, reverently, and with a prayer that we may be enlightened from above as to the things which belong to our peace.

Through all nature, this law prevails, in every department of human life and action — the thing done, the thought we cherish, what we are in ourselves that is our reward or our punishment, our heaven or our hell.

If a noble impulse, or a generous sentiment, or a Christian sympathy, come to a man, and he opens his heart to them with earnest welcome, and rejoices in their company, and gladly gives them room and entertainment, he asks no reward for this; for he is the gainer immensely by their coming. They bring their blessing with them; they make a heaven for him in his own soul; and the longer they remain with him, the more he sees that he gives nothing and receives all.

This holy thought, this generous feeling, has made all within him bright, beautiful, and blessed; and if there be anything due, it is from him, not to him. He has no claim of reward to set up for having entertained this heavenly guest. The balance is against him; for he was infinitely richer than before it came, and he will be poor enough when it leaves him.

"Jesus answered, and said, If a man love me, he will keep my words; and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him." John xiv. 23. Who, in such case, gains most; the man, or God and the Saviour? And what man is he, who, if these will come to take up their abode with him, would think, therefore, that he ought to be paid for entertaining them? that he ought to have reward for giving them room in his soul? Who, if God should come to dwell with him, would not feel that this, in itself, was reward enough, heaven enough?

How little, then, can they understand the true spirit of religion, or the nature of holiness and righteousness, who look outside of these for their reward; who expect to be paid hereafter for opening the heart for the incoming of the Holy Spirit here!' They seem not to comprehend this matter at all. As stated, the thing done is its own reward, there is no other; and properly and logically, there can be no other. And the principle involved in this statement, rules throughout the physical, social, moral, and reli

'Though this presentation of the doctrine may be denied in words, yet substantially this is it: If you are good, if you will love and obey God here, you shall go to heaven when you die; but, if you do not, you shall go to hell. What else is this but making heaven hereafter, the reward of goodness here? What more can be made of it? STUART MILL, in his Essay on Liberty, says, with great truth: "Our popular religious ethics, by holding out the hope of heaven and the threat of hell, as the appointed and appropriate motives to a virtuous life, fall far below the best of the ancients, and do what they can to give to human morality an essentially selfish character: and there is even now resulting a low, abject, servile type of character, which, submit itself as it may to what it deems the Supreme will, is incapable of rising to or sympathizing in the conception of Supreme Goodness."

gious worlds. It prevails in all human action and experience.

For the sake of giving a personal direction and force to the argument, let me address myself directly to the reader: You are sick; the hot blood runs riot in your veins, the fever is burning within you, and, like a fire, is consuming the life within. A kind and skilful physician comes in, administers his medicine, carefully watches over you by day and by night, and at last restores you to health again. Now, do you send in your bill to him, or does he send in his bill to you? Do you expect to be paid for taking the medicine, for being cured? or do you expect to pay him? Let us apply this illustration.

We are morally and spiritually diseased: God furnishes us the means of recovery, and finally restores us again, through Christ, to the health and strength of a righteous life. Where is the debt here? What reward shall we have for this? Shall we turn round upon our heavenly benefactor, the great Physician of souls, and demand a reward for having allowed him to restore us and save us? for having received, at his hands, the gift of spiritual health, and all the inestimable blessings it brings with it? What could be more monstrously ungrateful?

Let us take another illustration. Suppose a traveller comes to your door in a dark and stormy night, tells you that he is lost, that he is cold and hungry, and nearly perished from long exposure; and he begs you to give him shelter and food. You take him in, feed him and warm him; and on the morrow you go with him, show him the way to the high road, and give him a map of the country by which he can make the rest of his journey in safety.