lead? Thou hast heard the devils exclaiming, "Lord Jesus, send us not into the deep," and their cry shall one day be thine own. Now thou walkest in thine own way, gay and thoughtless, and sayest to thyself, "Peace! peace, when there is no peace," and, "There is no danger," while yet the danger is appalling, though thou knowest it not, or wilt not consider it. On the clock of eternity thine hour is struck; but no angel descends to bear thee away; no mansion of peace is opened for thee; no crown of life is wreathed for thy head. Thy name stands not in the book of life. Ah, thine angel of death has no peaceful look, no mild and cheering voice. On thy bed of death, no friendly hands bear thee up; but the ministers of justice rudely seize thee; thou fallest not asleep, but goest thine own way to the place of execution. Ha, what mean those starts of agony, those looks of fixed despair, those chill drops that bedew thy sinking head? Is this godly sorrow, is this repentance? Yes; it is the repentance of Judas, of Ahab, of Cain; it is the remorse of hell without faith; it is the pressure of guilt, without movement towards God; it is a fearful looking for of judgment, without hope from the Judge; a shuddering at eternity, without one recourse to the prayer of faith, or one struggle of the soul to embrace the crucified One. Unhappy sinner, who can help thy sad case! We preach to thee, thou understandest not; we point thee to the blood of the Lamb, thou wilt not raise thy heavy eyes; we name to thee the name of Jesus, thou canst only tremble. We would pray with thee, but thou givest no sign of assent. And oh, should this not be thy state, but shouldst thou advance so far into the dark entrance, dull, and hardened, and blind to all that lies beyond; yet, as thy senses fail thee, and thine eye darkens, and thine ear is shut, and the world is all behind thee, then another scene will open. a strange world of gloom, and ghastliness will rise around thee, and thou wilt feel thou art all alone—alone with thy sins—alone with thy burdened heart—alone with thy boding terrors—alone in the thick dark cloud of death! Alone —yet not alone! For thou hearest whispers that make thy

naked spirit quiver; a spiteful hissing and a bitter laughter, that tells thy quaking heart into what hands thou art betrayed and sold for ever. And when thy pulse beats no more, and the last death-rattle is breathed from thy throat, and thy soul leaps forth with one cry of anguish from the body, thou then knowest where thou art, for now thou seest the spirits of darkness. Ah, the hideous looks that stare on thee all round, hardened by the crimes of long ages; and they only mock and triumph in thy misery! Thy prayers, thy tears, thy adjurations, thy mad reproaches of thy accursed convoy avail thee not. With fiendish mockery they tell thee, "That thy lot is of thine own choosing; that thou mightest as readily have fled to the cross as joined their banner; that honour calls thee to play out thy part." And so they drag thee forth on thy dismal journey through a ravaged world, which no God repairs; an utter wilderness, still as the grave, and dark, without sky or solitary gleam of star; thy downward way carries thee from depth to depth, and the darkness, grows ever denser, the silence ever more drear, and broken only by the rush of infernal wings, or the grating thunder of doors that close on thee for ever; and thy poor soul's distress is ever sadder and sadder, and darker than all the night that wraps thee round. Ah, these piercing sounds that break upon thee from the far depth, what mean they? They are the weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth, of which on earth thou heardest the Saviour speak. And now thou art beside them, and seest their ghastly faces; each more dismal than the other, and upon all the same despair and madness; and from every lip, nothing but self-cursing and blasphemy. Ah, who shall save them from their undying worm, or put out their unquenchable fires! There is Judas, the traitor, tossed to and fro like a cloud of night, wringing his hands and crying for annihilation, but crying in vain. There is Cain, the fratricide, grovelling in the deepest abyss; and though he digs downward in search of death, he cannot and it. There is Nero, the blood-hound of persecution. Such is thy company; but here no one cares for others; for

all are buried in their own woes, and all hearts are of stone except to the pangs of their own torment. And as thou quailest at the sight, and wouldst turn away, the pangs of hell lay hold on thee, and thou feelest a wave of anguish break upon thy soul, to which the direst sufferings of earth would be a respite of peace. It is a mystery of horror, unimagined, nameless, unutterable! and no deliverer, far or near; no more sacrifice for sin; and for pity, there is bitter mockery; and for comfort, the hellish taunt, "See thou to that!" Love has fled these dark abodes; and the night is too thick, alas, even for a ray of hope. Here no clock strikes to mark the passing away of an hour of sorrow; no dawn follows the midnight of despair, to give promise of a better day. Here that scene becomes a sad reality,which a dark imagination has pictured with colours so fearfully true. One lost spirit meets another, and asks him, in rueful despair, "What of the clock ?" He answers," Here are no minutes, no hours, no years, no ages, no time at all; but only one long, awful, never-ending eternity. Here is only one great clock, that has no dial, no hands, no numbers; only a pendulum that swings on with one dull beat of thunder, Ever—Never. Ever Damnation, Never Redemption! Here the name of a Father, a God, that was written on all upon earth, in storm as in sunshine, in waste as in fruitful field, and which makes earth, in the retrospect, a very paradise, is to be read no more. Shall it be written on the chains of darkness that know no breaking, on the smoke of torment that ascendeth up for ever and ever?" In the dread flames that cannot be quenched by floods of tears? In the wail of despair that finds no answer? O God of justice! in hell there is written on the dungeon walls, and the hearts of the prisoners, nothing but this sentence, "Our God is a consuming fire." Alas! poor soul, that must learn, by eternal trial, the awful depth of this word; with what shout of joy wouldst thou hear, but for once, in that place, what thou hast so often heard on earth, "Be ye reconciled unto God," and see the curse and bless. ing once more put within thy choice. But no. The curse

alone is thy eternal portion. No God cares for thee more, no Saviour seeks after thee, no day of grace dawns on thee; and escape from these realms of sin and death is barred against thee, not for long ages merely, but for ever and ever!

Alas! alas! what a picture is this compared with that scene which we lately dwelt upon with rapture. Then it pained us to leave the blessed abodes of light, into which we followed in thought the triumphant prophet, and return to this vale of tears. But now we could almost break into shouts of joy, that the way is still open for our return to the earth and the day of grace. Again we hear, instead

of the yell of demons and the wailings of despair, the voice of God calling us to repentance. Instead of the devouring fire, we see the arms of mercy still opened, as wide and gracious as ever, to receive us. All, however, has its time and its season. "Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God that worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure. "Kiss ye the Son, lest he be angry and ye perish from the way when his wrath is kindled but a little." One of two things must close our pilgrimage; an ascent to heaven or a descent to hell. There is no middle state. "Have mercy upon us, O Saviour. Jesus thou Lamb of God, have mercy upon us." Amen.

VI.-THE LEGACY.

Our faith in a millennium rests not only on the sure word of prophecy, but also on the disorders of the church in the present day, and the destitute state of the world. Without it the issues of redemption would appear incomplete; the mediation of Christ less powerful than the influence of the prince of this world. But for this we would be inconsolable for the loss of the Pentecostal church, and even the great spiritual heroes of the earlier dispensation would be contemplated by us with humiliation and shame. Those

66

therefore are to be blamed who despise the study of prophecy, who seek not to complete the mutilated figure of church history by adding to it the proportions and members that lie scattered in the predictions of good things to come, and who shut their ears to the sounds of His approach, who has promised to come quickly." As for myself, I confess, that, if the prospect of a speedy dawn of these blessed days had not supported me, I should never have been emboldened to take you back into that age in which Elijah and Elisha lived and acted so gloriously. But as it is, I look with calm and unenvying eye upon these bright forms of the ancient dispensation, for greater saints and heroes are yet to come.

2 KINGS ii. 11-13.

"He took up also the mantle of Elijah that fell from him, and went back, and stood by the bank of Jordan; and he took the mantle of Elijah that fell from him, and smote the waters, and said, Where Is the Lord God of Elijah? And when he also bad smitten the waters, they parted hither and thither; and Elisha went over. And when the sons of the prophets, which were to view at Jericho, saw him, they said, the spirit of Elijah doth rest on Elisha. And they came to meet him, and bowed themselves to the ground before him.'

We come this day to an interesting act. The will of the departed prophet is unsealed; and Elisha is the heir of an inheritance the like of which the world has seldom seen. Let us contemplate the happy man somewhat more closely in the enjoyment of his heritage, and consider Elisha. I. With Elijah's mantle. II. With Elijah's God. III. With Elijah's spirit. IV. In Elijah's office.

I. In the moment when Elijah was taken up in his fiery chariot, his mantle, loosened by an invisible hand, fell from his shoulders, and floated down before Elisha. This was but a trifling circumstance in itself; but, as a symbol, of too much importance to be overlooked. With his mantle, Elijah had cast off for ever the burden and dignity of his commission. In the world above there are no more teachers and prophets, for faith is swallowed up in vision. Elisha was at no loss to understand the sign. When formerly he cost his mantle on Elisha at Abel-meholah, it was no more