"sitteth above the circle of the earth, before whom all the inhabitants of the earth are as grasshoppers." Now, it is shocking to think, that a state of mind very similar to this may be reached, not only by the perfectly unawakened man, but by the sleeping, dreaming christian,-not only by the Pharisee of Jerusalem, but by the saint of Laodicea; to a point so very far back it is possible for a believer's feet to slide. And when he has reached it, who can wonder that it requires an angry lightning-flash from the face of Christ to awaken him, a voice of thunder to alarm him, a stroke of vehement indignant love to humble him. "As many as I love I rebuke and chasten. Be zealous, therefore, and repent."

I have need of nothing! Why, this is the language of barbarism. The most savage tribes of men are those who have the fewest wants, and those few the most easily satisfied. The tattooed Island chief, adorned with shells and corals, and crowned with feathers,-living on roots and cocoanuts, and knowing no strong passion, but for the blood and flesh of his enemies, rushes down to the beach in fury, to bid defiance to the offered civilization of Europe. Cultivation, however, develops, wherever it goes, new wants, both of the body and soul, of clothing, domestic comfort, modes of support, and of knowledge. Civilization is nothing else than the development and gratification of new wants in an endless series; and the continuous advancement of the world in refinement depends upon the continual spread of the feeling of human necessity. Let Europe and Asia lose the natural and artificial wants of civilization, and they both would relapse into barbarism.

But many who, through yielding to the acquired sense of necessity, have reached the highest degree of material refinement, are still barbarous in the soul, and spiritually resemble the savage Islander, who repels with indignant scorn the offers of wisdom from beyond the ocean. They have no sense of spiritual wants, of moral desires to be satisfied, of danger to be averted, of purposes to be guided, of affections to be uplifted, of a spirit to be justified and saved. The very last thing for which their heart and flesh crieth out is, the living God.

But when the soul begins to be wise, it comes to itself, and then says, "I will arise and go to my father." It begins its career of salvation by becoming conscious of wants. I perish with hunger.

These spiritual wants of the soul are, solid peace with God in the prospect of eternal judgment. "Wherewithal shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before the high God?" "What must I do to be saved?” Then, when that grand primary necessity is relieved, arises the earnest desire for likeness to God. "Then shall I be satisfied when I wake up in thy likeness." And, lastly, abiding repose in a sense of dependance and safe protection. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me." In one word, the soul becomes conscious of the want of its God. "As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God." All the faculties and passions of man ask for rest in all the attributes of God. And, says the apostle, "My God shall supply all your need, according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus." God's unspeakable gift to the human spirit is

HIMSELF.

Christ is appointed by God to satisfy all the wants of the soul awakening to its real necessities. In him dwells all the fulness of the Godhead bodily, and of his fulness we may all receive grace upon grace. How he communicates this fulness to the " poor, and miserable, and blind, and naked,” we may attempt to describe in a future paper. Meantime, let us

reflect that the measure of our outlooking to Christ, is the measure of our safety and spiritual progress. A sense of want, dependance, natural emptiness, to be satisfied only by "looking unto Jesus," to be enriched by his grace and truth, to be upheld and fortified by his strength, is the proper habit of the christian life. The soul can move in its proper orbit, or bring forth the fruits of righteousness in daily life, without Christ, no more than the earth can maintain its pathway through the sky, or its fertility upon the surface, without the attraction and the radiant heat of the sun. "WITHOUT ME YE CAN DO NOTHING." London.

PEACE BE WITH YOU.

BY DR. F. A. G. THOLUCK.*

"Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, came Jesus, and stood in the midst, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you."-John xx. 19, 21, 26.

"And as they thus spake, Jesus himself stood in the midst of them, and said unto them, Peace be with you."-Luke xxiv. 36.

What a calm halo of glory rests upon the history of our Lord's resurrection, especially as it is detailed in the last chapter of the Gospel of St. John. As in the early dawn he there appears at the sea of Tiberias, so there rests upon his every apparition after his resurrection, as it were, the grey light of the dawn. He is no longer what he was, and yet he is still the same. He is no longer recognised by his own, nor by Mary Magdalene, nor by the disciples journeying to Emmaus, nor by the disciples at the sea of Tiberias, as in one place it is said, "He appeared under another form."+ But again, he is the same whose body was nailed to the cross, for the incredulous disciple thrust his hand into the scar in his side. Now he suddenly stands in the midst of the eleven, having passed through closed doors, as if he had left matter and its limits behind. And again, he partakes with his friends of honey and fish, as if he still shared in the necessities of Adam's children. He has not yet sat down upon his throne at the right hand of the Father, and nevertheless he appears not altogether to belong to earth, for he comes to the disciples only at intervals; and where is he when not with them? This is the twilight which overspreads our Lord; but it is the twilight of the dawn. The night lies behind him,-behind him lies the fight.

"PEACE BE WITH YOU!" This is the repeated salutation with which he steps among his own. His warfare is over. What a deep calm rests upon the whole aspect of the risen One; we feel it whenever we read the history of his resurrection. Having overcome the night with all its horrors, the morning of a glorious day has broken, never to be followed by the night. "For in that he died, he died unto sin once; but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God."§

"Oh, Death! where is now thy sting? Oh, Grave! where is now thy victory?" No power hadst thou over the Prince of Life; no longer shalt thou have power over me. "Because I live, ye shall live also." On these

words I stand fast. But if it were not written that the lion of the tribe of Judah has come forth a conqueror from the tomb, so certainly as I know that I myself live, would I know that He lives also.

What! close His egress from the darkness of the grave into the light of day with a piece of rock ? Sooner might ye roll a stone against

From "Stunden Christlicher Andacht."

† Mark xvi. 12.

Luke xxiv. 42, 43.

Romans vi. 10.

yonder eastern heavens, to prevent the morning sun from rising from the abyss, than bar the ascent of the Prince of Life into the light of day. Impossible that the life of which it said, "the Father hath given power unto the Son to have life in himself,” should terminate in Joseph of Arimathea's tomb.

I do not know how it is, but since I came to feel in my inmost soul that HE LIVES, it is as if the consciousness of my own immortality had acquired new force. If He who lives for ever now lives in me, why should I not live henceforth with him for ever? And what but this is the meaning of his declaration, "Because I live, ye shall live also."

What are all other hopes of immortality compared with that vivid hope inspired by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead! There is, indeed, a resurrection taking place around us in the lap of nature; but the stalk which shoots up in the spring, and the blade which comes forth in the spring, is not the same that was buried in the harvest. Although man be eternal, how do I know that I am so? There exist, indeed, in the human mind germs which in this earthly state scarcely begin to develop themselves; but why may not humanity complete in an endless progress that which the individual must leave imperfect? But you say, Does not the individual bear within himself the consciousness of being called off the stage before he has yet lived out the life that is in him? and I reply, For one who feels this in every nerve of life, how many thousands are there who terminate their career every moment. For, properly speaking, they never do live in an onward progress, but, instead of striding forwards towards infinity, they merely revolve around themselves, upon the little point on which they stand! And, moreover, is it not the case, that the very powers in which you feel the throb of life, the acuteness of the intellect, the richness of the memory, the vigour of the judgment, the fertility of the imagination, have all borne their fairest fruits before the very noon of life, and by the evening of it have ceased even to blossom? Has there ever been one of human kind that has solved the problem, and impersonated the ideal, of humanity? And if not, whence, then, the certainty that every individual shall be allowed to fulfil it? The waves rise, the waves fall in the stream; the stream remains, the waves disappear. Ah, whence then the certainty that not only the stream of humanity, but all its waves also, must be eternal ?

Nevertheless, this assurance is mine. Is not He, in whom dwelt the fulness of the Godhead bodily, a pledge to me that the problem of humanity has been fixed by the grace of God at the immortality, not merely of humanity, but of every individual partaker of it, and especially of those whom, having taken to be his brethren, he will also form in his own image. "But go to my brethren," thus speaks the risen One to the Magdalene. He was not ashamed of her when he walked with her in his earthly garments, and now he is not ashamed of her when he stands before her clothed with an incorruptible garment. And if we are brethren of Him who arose incorruptible,-of Him whom the bands of death could not hold, in giving us this honourable name, has he not also given us the pledge that we shall also be where he is, and as he is? Yes, he has given us this; and it is preeminently from his open grave that the assurance springs and pulsates through all my veins: I AM IMMORTAL!

"Peace be with you!" Yes, it resounds not only through hearts and homes, but likewise through the silent dwellings of the dead. For whence the triumphant feeling which, together with peace and serenity, pervades every believing soul on the resurrection morning? Are not the graves

of our beloved ones still closed beneath the cold earth? Does not the evening of life follow the morning, nipping its blossoms just as before? Stands there not upon each one of our graves the black and mournful cross? Mournful indeed, when viewed by the eyes of the flesh; but viewed by the eyes of the Spirit, it is a tree of life, reaching upwards to heaven. But the resurrection morning is the triumph of incorruption over corruption; and therefore rejoice, all ye that are called christians, at the grave of the risen One, in the anticipation of eternity.

Where among the communities of men do we find such joyful deathbeds, as among those who can celebrate the resurrection morning, as in the church that believes in the first-born from the dead? "And delivered those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage" (Heb. ii. 15). In how numerous respects can the disciple of the Lord exclaim, "God be thanked! I am redeemed!" How strong the cords with which the fear of death binds all mankind! With all their demonstrations of an immortality, how little can they argue out of their hearts the fear of death! Nor, in order to get rid of it, is it enough to believe that beyond the first bounds of this life another begins, even were that land a land of paradise! If this earthly paradise fills the soul of man completely, the very thought of leaving it is enough to aggravate all its terrors. Who is it, then, who fills our souls with longing for another kind of food? Who is it that excites within us, by bestowing on us here the first fruits of the other land, an ardent longing for the full harvest? Who but Christ? Yes, believing in my Lord, I can exclaim with the fullest truth, "God be thanked, I am redeemed! redeemed even from the fear of death!" Really, joyful death-beds can be found nowhere except where the resurrection morning is remembered. Man exhausts not his life on the earth: the meaning of this is comprehended, I think, in its fullness, only by the christian. For why might not that man terminate his life on the earth, who knows not the royal dignity of man, who feels its claims on himself to be small? If there is nothing more to be done on earth than to spend a few pleasant hours and days, it can be of no consequence whether there be a few hundreds or thousands more or less of them. Were the sunset of human life never to be followed by the dawn, I cannot express how insignificant, how paltry, all the human life that surrounds me would appear! But we know that it does not consist in a few hours of earthly pleasure; we know the dignity of our nature; for we know the dignity of Him who came himself in the flesh to restore the image of humanity to its pristine glory.

Our pretensions are not small. They are great as the grace of the Giver. To be one with the Father, like to our first-born Brother, this is the exaltation, this the princely rank, which we have-not taken-but received out of his grace (John xvii. 21). Earth sees not the end of our life. We know that here we have only just begun to live aright. We know that the Spirit which is given us is only the beginning of a great harvest, only the earnest, the pledge, of an incalculable number of blessings to be yet enjoyed. How then could we live out our existence on the earth? No! thy kingdom come! thus we shall pray until it is fully come. And though the cold and heavy hand of death be laid upon our hearts, between the last lightning flashes of life, and amidst the last thunderclaps of death, we shall shout, "Oh, Death! where is now thy sting? Oh, Grave! where is now thy victory?"

"PEACE BE WITH YOU!" With these words the risen One appears in the midst of his disciples. His whole aspect betokens his own enjoyment of peace; but he addresses these words with such a peculiar significance to the disciples, that we perceive his meaning to be, "Now peace is yours."

As if it were only now the reign of peace had begun. And so it was. Only now had real peace been obtained. The heavy woes of the innocent Lamb of God were over. It was now well with His soul; it now may be well with OURS. Now we know who it was that wept at Gethsemane, and bled upon Golgotha. Now we know that it was the Prince of Life. And, more than this, now we know the priceless value of his undeserved suffering. Now He has come forth as a conqueror from the grave. It could not have been for his own sins He suffered and died. He is the holy Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins of the world. Among the Greek christians, on Easter morning, friend cries to friend, "Christ is risen!" and the cry is echoed back again, "He is risen indeed!" And what does it mean but this? Yes, it is true indeed; we have a sin-offering for our sins! And his resurrection, and it alone, is to us the seal of our right to comfort one another with the reconciling power of his atonement. The commemoration of our Lord's resurrection is the celebration of our own peace. As there lay behind the Saviour the night of suffering, so behind the believing soul lies the night of guilt. As often as I think upon this peace, the bands of my soul are loosed, and the morning light of Tiberias plays around me. When that mouth speaks peace, there is peace indeed. The prophets invoke a woe upon the heads of those who say, "Peace, peace, when there is no peace." But the Saviour never pronounces peace except there be peace indeed. And if immediately after his resurrection he again and again exclaims, "Peace be with you!" would it not be a sin if I were not heartily to believe and appropriate it? Yes, I will now go my way in peace. All that tends to terrify lies behind me in the grave of my Lord, with the napkins and the linen clothes, while before me all is peace. Oh, in the warfare of the inner life, how blessed is the knowledge that our peace with God, at least, does not need to be battled for, but that it is complete ont of and above us! How comforting, too, in this respect, is now the "Peace be with you," of our Lord, after his rising from the dead, when we behold so plainly that his woes have been our good;-that he includes us, likewise, in the peace which he now himself enjoys for ever;-and that we, too, have a share in that dawning glory and that gentle repose which rests upon him on the morning of the resurrection!

My Lord and my God! do thou enable my soul to realise that this is the day the Lord arose ! Grant me at the open grave of Jesus feelings of triumph and of peace! The grave is no longer silent since Jesus Christ himself has opened it. The tomb-stones press not heavily on which stands the cross. "I live, and ye shall live also." This I hear resounding over every churchyard. I am a slave no more to the fear of death. At the grave of Jesus I feel myself strong enough to lay down my life; yea, if need be, to give it up for his sake, as he gave it up for me. Hold thou me up, oh, my Father God! and keep me gazing into my Saviour's open grave! Let me behold it even when I lie on the agonizing bed of death! Oh, let us not at the death-bed of our dear ones, or at our own, dishonour the name we bear, as if we were of those who have << no hope." I have indeed a living hope of that unseen world, so that I can rest all that is seen upon it. I have tasted of the peace that succeeds that death which we die in Christ. Grant, oh, my God, that the peace of this resurrection morning may be mine my whole life through! Oh, in that rest which remaineth, and in his calm peacefulness, I will be happy throughout eternity!