yours,

His omnific word, death and the grave shall one day yield up their unlawful captives; and then, when the grave has heard the voice of the Son of God, and death, His servant and has delivered up, unscathed, unharmed-yea, more glorious and beautiful than when they fell for a while into his charge, the bodies of Christ's redeemed, when "this corruptible shall put on incorruption, and this mortal shall put on immortality," then shall the believer discover the full and blessed import of the words, "Death is yours."

Be this, then, let me say in conclusion, your comfort and strength amidst the passing hours of life, and when anticipating its inevitable close. If ye are Christ's in earnest heartfelt self-devotion, in the entire surrender of yourselves to Him who hath redeemed you by His precious blood, then indeed "death is yours." It may not be that, when he draws near to you, Death shall be welcomed with rapture, or even regarded without shrinking and dread. At the best, his is never a sweet face, nor is it a sound to which mortal ear can listen calmly when his step is heard on the threshold, or his knock strikes the door. But if you are Christ's, there is that in your condition which may well mitigate the fear, as it will ultimately triumph over the power of death. Death comes at Christ's command to call the believer to

Himself; and grim and ghastly though be the look of the messenger, surely that may well be forgotten in the sweetness of the message he brings. Death comes to set the spirit free; and rude though be the hand that knocks off the fetters, and painful though be the process of liberation, what need the prisoner care for that, when it is to freedom, life, home, he is about to be emancipated? Death strikes the hour of the soul's everlasting espousals, and though the sound may be a harsh one, what matters that? To common ear it may seem a death-knell, to the ear of faith it is a bridal peal. "Now," may the fainting passing soul reflect, "now my Lord is coming, I go to meet Him-to be with Jesus to dwell with Him in everlasting light and love to be severed from Him no more for ever: O Death, lead thou me on!" Or, if frail nature should faint and fail in that awful hour, surely this may be its strong consolation, the thought that even in the article of dissolution, He to whom the soul belongs is near and close beside it, to sustain the fortitude of His servant, and shield him in the last alarms. "The night falls dark upon my spirit; I tremble to go forth into that awful mystery and gloom help, Lord, for my spirit faileth," -is this the cry of its passing anguish? "Fear not" will be the sweet response that falls upon the inner ear-"Fear not, I am with thee; the night is far

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spent, the day is at hand; a little moment, and the shadows shall flee away for ever!" '0 Death!" may not then the dying saint, rising into the magnanimity of his glorious faith, exclaim"O Death, I fear thee not; I am not thine, but thou art mine! Thanks be to God that giveth me the victory through Jesus Christ my Lord!"

SERMON X.

THE SIMPLICITY OF CHRISTIAN RITUAL.

"Then verily the first covenant had also ordinances of divine service." HEB. ix. 1.

THE language of sign or symbol enters very largely into all the affairs of life. It is not by articulate speech alone that the inner experiences of the mind are expressed or communicated to others; it is not in words only that we garner up for our own or other's use the fleeting phenomena of thought and feeling there is a silent language of look and tone and gesture, which, as it is the earliest, is also the most vivid and impressive, medium of mind. The human spirit craves and finds embodiment for its impalpable, evanescent ideas and emotions, not merely in sounds that die away upon the ear, but in acts and observances that arrest the eye, and stamp themselves upon the memory, or in shapes and forms and symbols that possess a material and palpable continuity. Nor, with all the advantages which, by reason of its greater compass and flexibility, spoken language

possesses as an instrument for the communication of thought, can it be questioned that in some respects it is inferior in force and intelligibleness to the unuttered language of symbol or sign.

The superiority of sign or symbol as a vehicle of thought is in some sort implied in the very fact that it is the language of nature, the first which man learns, or rather which, with instinctive and universal intelligence, he employs. Long ere the infant can make use of conventional speech, it receives and reciprocates intelligence. It discerns the intimations of thought and feeling in the mother's face; and by the responsive smile or tear-by the bright or beclouded face-by the clinging embrace or the cry of alarm-by the restless, ever-varying play of expression, motion, gesticulation-it indicates the possession of a most copious, though inartificial, exponent of mind. Betwixt the sign and the thing signified there is, in this case, a mysterious connection, deeply wrought into the very elements of our being, so that nowhere can the man be found to whom the gleaming countenance is not significant of joy and the trembling lip and tearful eye of grief, or to whom the manifold and subtle varieties of expression that flit over the human countenance and form are devoid of meaning. On the other hand, with but rare exceptions, the connection between words and the