in the kingdom of their Father." O let us build a tabernacle for our souls amid this glory! Let the summit of the holy mount be our oratory and our watchtower. Within sight of the transfigured One thy last fear shall die, and thy prayer shall mount up with holy rapture to the presence of his glory.

X.-THE HEAVENLY EMBASSY.

Suppose, my brethren, that a stranger from another world were to descend to our earth, with senses so constituted that he could in one moment take in all the countries of Christendom, and at the same time perceive all the transactions of which they were the scene. Suppose that the time was the morning of Christmas day, and that he took his stand on a mountain so high as to command a view of all the kingdoms of the world" in a moment of time." Then let the sound of innumerable church-bells be borne to his ears, and the sight of endless crowds of festive worshippers be presented to his eyes, and let him hear at the same time the sound of rejoicing choruses in every sanctuary, and every prayer and sermon sending forth its notes of jubilee! How great would be the stranger's excitement! How eager his desire to learn the origin of such a festival of the world! But were he gifted with the power of looking backward into time, as well as around him into space, and were he guided by some equally gifted spirit, not to an ancient field of battle, not to the capital of some great empire and the palace of illustrious kings, but to a poor village in an obscure land, to a lowly stable, with a mean travel-worn woman in it, and a new-born infant lying in scanty swaddling-clothes amid the straw of a manger; and were we told that it was the birth of this neglected child that had excited the universal jubilee, how would his wonder rise and transcend all expression!

He might fancy it at first all a dream, and wonder what sort of world this was in which so unheard of a revolution

could come to pass. And when he was instructed farther, and told that the history of many a great genius, many a mighty conqueror, and founder of a new religion and school of wisdom, had begun in circumstances of great obscurity, his surprise would not even then be done away; for he would hear this Child spoken of in a higher strain, and announced by a heavenly chorus as neither man nor seraph, but the Eternal Son of the Eternal God, "manifest in flesh."

It is good, my friends, to bring the fresh and uncorrupted feelings of other orders of being to rectify and exalt our own. For how low are our notions, how cold our faith in "this great mystery of godliness." O it is no light and trivial thing to believe in an Incarnate God, but an awful and serious matter. This faith is a miracle—like the birth of the Son of God himself. Is this Child that I can take in my arms and caress, as it prattles and smiles on me as other children do, in very truth one in person with the Eternal Word, the Creator of all? O my poor brain! how shall I find room in thee for such a thought! It is an unfathomable mystery! If I never felt before what it is to sink beneath a thought, I feel it here. But can we stay for ever by the manger? No, we must go forth from this scene of awful eclipse, from the stable, the manger, and the days of infancy, and re-assure our faith amid those glorious outbursts of divinity which marked the holy manhood of our Saviour. And when I have seen all, and followed him to his last ascent of triumph, my heart then casts off its load and breathes a freer air. I carry back the reflected lustre of his almighty deeds to the dark and lowly scene. I return with a heart whose craving void this Incarnate God alone can fill; and when I re-enter the stable of Bethlehem, I join with fervent soul in the angel's song, I kneel before the manger in the dust, I stretch my hand to heaven, and in defiance of Satan, who would gladly seal my lips from a confession which bodes him fall and overthrow—in defiance of the might of all his host, whose fierce mandate of "silence" I burst, with the gates of hell, asunder,—in defiance of the

spirit of an apostate age, that cannot longer restrain my tongue with its scoffs and laughter—and in defiance of my own pride of reason which sets itself against a testimony that casts it down into the dust,—I bend before the infant in the manger, and I swear to God " Yea and Amen," this child is the True God and Eternal Life,- -a feeble creature, and yet the Lord and Maker of all creatures!

One of the many places where this confession is as easy for the faith of the Christian, as at Bethlehem it is difficult to make, is the summit of Mount Tabor. From this holy mount a light is reflected at once on the manger and on the cross, which chases all doubt away. We return now to this sacred spot, to refresh our souls amid its marvellous light with new joy and peace in believing.

MATTHEW xvii. 3-6.

"And, behold, there appeared unto them Moses and Elias talking with him. Then answered Peter, and said to Jesus, Lord, it is good for us to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias. While he yet spake, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them: and behold a voice out of the cloud, which said. This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him. And when the disciples heard it, they fell on their face, and were sore afraid."

Here then we stand once more on the sacred summit—a solemn stillness, as of a sanctuary, around us—before us, the King in his beauty. Again we would gladly lose ourselves in the contemplation of his single glory; but, behold, our attention is divided. The sacred circle of objects is increased, and our eyes are attracted by the new appearance. There are three objects which at present claim our attention: I. The heavenly embassy. II. Their converse with the Saviour: and, III. Simon Peter's request.

I. The disciples stand in adoring wonder, and in rapt contemplation of their glorified Master. All at once a new amazement fills them; for, behold! two glorious forms, one on each side of the Lord Jesus, shining in the same light and bending with reverence before him. "Who are these, and whence come they? Did we not ascend the mountain

with him alone? No! these are not mortals whom we behold, the crown of life is already on their heads." And lo, the Saviour begins to converse with these venerable strangers. The disciples listen, and, hark! what name do they hear their Master use? Moses and Elijah! Do they hear aright! And has the earth then fled away; and is Time gone; and has Eternity, that sweeps away all distinctions of ages, and brings all duration into one awful point, already dawned upon them! They cannot be mistaken; the glorious personages are indeed two citizens of the invisible world, two happy saints from the Jerusalem above. A sure and sacred instinct would have taught the disciples to recognize them without more instruction; for their image lived in the hearts of the chosen people, clear as ever form did in the mind of an artist. The one is now fifteen hundred years old, and yet fair and flourishing, as a green palm tree, in eternal youth. How could the disciples mistake his majestic expression! In these glorified hands lay once the mighty rod that divided the waves of the Red Sea. Under these feet did Sinai quake, when the Lord came from Paran with a fiery law. These arms, upheld in prayer, laid Amalek in the dust; and these eyes saw manna rained from heaven, and water burst from the flinty rock, and have seen that glory of the Lord which on earth could not be shown. It is indeed Moses that stands before us! the captain of Israel— the king in Jeshurun—the man who "esteemed the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt, for he had respect unto the recompense of the reward." And the other—how can he be a stranger to us; there is the same undaunted eye, the same lofty majesty of look, that we knew so well in all our pilgrimage with him. Elijah! yes! the heroic Tishbite! It is almost a thousand years since he shook off the dust of the earth in the wilderness of Jericho, and mounted in his fiery chariot to the world of rest. A thousand years has his voice mingled in the choirs above, and now he stands suddenly before us, in the same body that saw no death, on the old scene of conflict; but, O, with what new feelings would he look round on all, as the dim

outline rose before him, under the silent stars! here, the summit of Carmel; there, Jezreel and its wide plain; beyond, the dark thickets and rocks of Cherith; and far to the south, the lonely waste, with the juniper tree, and the awful height of Horeb. With what dim and all but invisible hues of sadness would his moments of doubt and care and despondency now appear! and all his sorrows vanish from his sight, like the dreams of a night that had long since fled!

Moses and Elias! Welcome visitants in this vale of tears! Had they been allowed to break their silence, what wonders could they have told us of! For long centuries they had been in the immediate presence of God, for long centuries the Sabbatic rest of the world above had been the element of their life. Their feet had trod the ever-verdant hills of paradise, their hands struck the harps of seraphim, and their eyes ranged through familiar splendours, of which a faint reflection dazzles ours; their hearts drunk in a tide of rapture, of which scanty drops make up earth's happiness. What could they not have told us of death and the resurrection, of the scenes and the life of paradise? But they are silent; and the reason is, that, like him who was caught up into the "third heaven," they had seen and heard things not "possible to utter."

You know the striking description which Paul gives of this great experience of his own, 2 Cor. xii. 2, &c. The strangely broken language of the apostle shows how deeply his heart was moved by the recollection of this "vision of the Lord." He is struggling to express something which he counts among the highest and holiest experiences of his life. He cannot find words to describe the act of translation, and he knows not whether he was in the body or out of the body. One thing he knows, it was no dream or play of the fancy, but a real translation into paradise. Where was he then, for he was away from the earth? Was it in some blissful planet or star, from whence, like Moses from the top of Nebo, he could "behold the land that was far off." No! it was a higher flight. He had been in the very heart of that