the prophets, the dirge of woe shall be changed into the song of rejoicing, as they rise in purer forms from their ashes, and become no more the refuge and hiding-place of persecuted truth, but the centres of a universal wisdom, and the head-quarters of all spiritual enterprise. Happy days, when will ye take the wings of the morning and dawn upon us? We gaze with tears on your distant brightness, and utter the prayer "Thy kingdom come!"

III. Great must have been the joy of Elijah, in entering, once more, before his departure, these schools of the prophets, and hearing there the echo of all those sighs and prayers for Israel's restoration which he had supposed to be without counterpart. The sight of these fair "gardens of the Lord" must have rebuked his former complaints and anxious fears, and deepened the self-humiliation which now wrought in his mind, as he thought of the dark hours when his labour seemed entirely without fruit. These blossoms of promise, blooming in a moral waste and amid the storms of persecution, and rich with the hope of "fruit unto holiness" in after days, were delightful evidence that his labour had not been "in vain in the Lord." What a proof was this of the faithfulness and grace of him "who out of stones can raise up children to Abraham !" And how cheering to the prophet's heart to associate with the hope of heavenly glory the other hope of leaving the church on earth supplied with a goodly band of champions, by whom the last bulwarks of idolatry might be perhaps subverted, and the banner of the Lord erected everywhere on the towers and hills of Zion.

As Elijah and Elisha approach Bethel, the sons of the prophets are already aware of the loss that awaits them. Doubtless the Lord himself had made it known to them, that they might know, for certain, how the course of this great man would end, and comfort themselves with the thought "that the Lord had taken him away." Never before had they saluted their paternal master with such feelings as on this occasion. How much did they need selfcontrol to check the rising burst of emotion, and to hide, if

not suppress, their tears; for a delicate sense of propriety taught them to conceal from the prophet their knowledge of his approaching removal. They venture to make known only to Elisha, the secret of their deeply affected souls, while they beckon him aside, and whisper, with a trembling voice, in his ear," Knowest thou that the Lord will take away thy master from thy head to-day." But Elisha, as if to seal up their lips still more closely, gently said to them, "Yea, I know it; hold ye your peace." This happened at Bethel; and the same scene was repeated at Jericho. These are lovely incidents; delicate and characteristic in the highest degree. Their beauty must be felt, and not reasoned about, for such tender flowers are injured by minute handling. I leave it to yourselves to enter into the reasons why the sons of the prophets spared Elijah the usual parting scene of grief and tears, and only remark how bright a light it casts on the prophet's character; and how fine a lesson it gives us, that in the kingdom of God there is something which the world calls discretion, and which must be reckoned amongst the odours and perfumes which Sharon's roses and lilies shed around them.

O how glorious is the state of that soul which the Lord has formed "to newness of life." It is like a finely strung harp, capable of every tone and modulation. The boldest sweep of psalms slumbers in its strings, and the gentlest notes of love; the deep and fervid song of the nightingale, and the innocent and lively carol of the lark. And even in its discords there is a higher harmony; its jars are inwrought into a sweeter unison. Amid the bursting strains of such living harps of God, Elijah passed the last hours of his earthly pilgrimage; the same Elijah, who, in former days, had fitly strung and tuned them to the praise of the Eternal. We will not envy him the spiritual refreshment of the work-day evening. Rather we will call him blessed; and pray that we also, your teachers, may share in such an hour the lot of Elijah. May He in mercy grant it, in whose hand are the hearts of men. Amen.

II. THE PASSAGE THROUGH JORDAN.

"The king's daughter is all glorious within." In these words the inspired psalmist speaks of the true church of God. (Psal. xlv. 13.) The fairest and grandest object on earth is a genuine Christian. The world does not acknowledge this. It has no eye for what is divinely great and glorious; and how should it know and appreciate the nature and actions of one who is "born of God."

The Christian is great in his repentance, for his repentance is an open rupture with sin and Satan. He is great in his desires, for the Supreme Good can alone satisfy his heart. He is great in his prayers, when he shakes the dust of earth from his feet, and with his "Abba, Father!" rises upwards to the heart of Jehovah! He is great in his hopes, for he is looking for nothing less than a participation oi the glory and the inheritance of the Lord, his Redeemer. He is great in his tears, for they are the tears of a fallen king, who mourns a lost kingdom and a forfeited crown. He is great in his joy, for it is derived from another world, and its objects are beyond the skies! Yea, how much could we not tell of the greatness of a true Christian; how much could we add to confirm the saying, "The king's daughter is all glorious within."

There is nothing more beautiful under heaven than the Divine work of grace in a renewed soul. Consider it in its full development in a Moses, an Elijah, or a Paul, and you will agree with me, when I call the moral miracles recorded in sacred history more wonderful than the physical. I look with unspeakably greater amazement into the hearts of these men of God, than upon the most splendid scenes of their outward life. It cannot, after this view of their moral greatness, so much surprise me, that such men did not tread the ordinary smooth round of life, but rose to higher spheres and courses of activity. The power of working miracles appears to agree with such elevation of character, as the mighty river to the Alpine summit where it take its rise.

Let us bear this in mind, while we contemplate the stupendous act with which Elijah concluded the splendid series of his miracles.

2 KINGS ii. 7, 8.

"And fifty men of the sons of the prophets went, and stood to view afar off; and they two stood by Jordan. And Elijah took his mantle, and wrapped it together, and smote the waters, and they were divided hither and thither, so that they two went over on dry ground."

Having conducted this master in Israel through the schools of the prophets, we again find ourselves in company with him and his faithful attendant on the solitary banks of the Jordan, where new scenes of wonder meet our view. Let us then contemplate for a little, I. The escort of the sons of the prophets. II. The miraculous passage through the Jordan.

I. In the lonely and silent wilderness of Jericho, where Israel's hosts first trod the promised land, Elijah and Elisha are seen walking on in rapt and solemn silence. Elijah, who knew that his hour was come, has already shaken off the dust of earth from his feet, and his thoughts wander in high anticipation to other worlds. Elisha is struggling to control his human feelings, and could all but arrest the flight of his venerable master. Walking as if alone in the wilderness, they approach the rushing stream. But they are not altogether alone, for many friendly eyes are resting on them from a distance, and with mingled grief and expectation following their track. Fifty men of the sons of the prophets could not find it in their hearts to remain that day in the town. It was their master's parting-day. To-day they could still see him; to-morrow he would be gone for ever. They could not retain him in their circle; but they could take a last long look of his receding form. They knew it was no common loss that awaited them. We can readily sympathize with their regret, if we but consider how great a blessing, in the present day, the re-appearance of a man like Elijah would be to the church of God.

Deep, indeed, and inexpressible was the sadness of this pious company. Yet we cannot doubt that there mingled

with their melancholy, a calm and spreading joy, like a gleam of light upon a dark and troubled sea. They know that their master is to be translated to glory.

They see him already mingling in the cloud of heavenly witnesses, and can almost for a moment forget their grief to celebrate his triumphant entry into heaven. O how blessed is the departure of those who are dear to us, when, beyond the thick darkness into which they have entered, there shines the happy light of a resurrection-morn! And oh, how heartrending is it, how indescribably painful, when a friend whom we dearly loved must bid us farewell for ever, and we cannot tell whether his path is that of the just, nor say, "He is not lost, but gone before." Yes, the most precious legacy which our dying friends can leave us, is the joyful certainty that they have fallen asleep in Jesus. This blessed thought restores them to us in brighter forms; in the light of this assurance their eye still beams upon us, and our circle of friends is not diminished but only enlarged in its circumference. Yes, I well know the happiness of many of you who, in this delightful confidence, treasure up the images of departed parents, and brothers, and sisters, and friends. I well believe you, that you would not lose, for all the joys of earth, that comfort which, like a blessed star of promise, shines over the graves of your departed ones, and unites you for ever with those who are only for a brief season withdrawn from your eyes. Would that over our own graves such blessed flowers of hope may grow for the comfort of the dear hearts we leave behind! Would that the Spirit of grace may so set his mark on our foreheads, that when we depart, none may stand in doubt whether or not we have taken the heaven-ward way!

The sons of the prophet's, doubtless, entertained the hope of being witnesses of Elijah's translation. Yet, as is manifest from the sequel, they did not see it. It is impossible to say with certainty, why this sublime spectacle was not vouchsafed to them. But why, in general, it pleases the glorious issue of the saint's life by

Lord to conceal the

clouds and thick darkness, it is not hard to discover. Did