the judgment day will be, "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you"-meant for you, and you meant for it-" from the foundation of the world;" but to the lost he says: "Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire; prepared"- not for you, nor meant for you; and if you are found there, you are found where you have dragged yourselves in spite of God's remonstrances to the contrary-" prepared for the devil and his angels," not for you; and therefore Satan will not be able to say, "This soul is a proof of my power." He will have no spoil to boast of. He will be defeated, and driven out of earth, and earth reinstated in its ancient orbit, and its most desert places blossom even like the rose. It may be then that other orbs are intensely interested in all this going on here; and knowing what a change has taken place in this world, they, too, may rejoice that that decease has been accomplished at Jerusalem. No rational mind can believe that this world is the only one in space. The telescope will tell you of worlds vastly larger than this. They cannot be empty-there is every reason to think they are full of life. But this orb has been selected by God to be to the whole universe what our parliament, or Westminster, is to the whole empire-the place where transactions take place that regulate, delight, and affect the rest of the worlds. It may beand it is a most sublime thought-that the orbs of the sky are gazing down in concentric circles upon this little world in which we live, startled at the revelation that is there how God loved sinners, still more startled at the revelation, how men that know this can neglect so great a salvation. They may have talked of this decease, therefore, as being an event that other worlds should gaze upon, and behold in it such indications of God's love, such proofs of God's mercy, that, if unfallen themselves, they should yet join with the redeemed in glory, saying: "Unto Him that loved you, and washed you from your sins in his own blood-unto Him we too, who have never fallen, but who have received instruc

tion from what He has done, would join in ascribing glory and honour, and blessing and praise, for ever and

ever."

Perhaps, too, Moses and Elijah may have talked of it as contributing to their own already rich happiness. I have no doubt that heaven felt more happy after that decease accomplished at Jerusalem. All the saints in glory must have been full of the expectancy of this great event. The "song of Moses" had added to it, when Jesus died, "the song of the Lamb"; a new name and a new song were heard in heaven when Christ accomplished that decease at Jerusalem.

These ministers of different dispensations-if you like the phrase, of different communions—had but one topic to speak of. Moses, who belonged to the denomination of law, Elijah, who was the president of the denomination of the prophets, when they met upon Tabor had but one grand theme-Christ's decease at Jerusalem. And if all ministers of all communions would only speak more of that, and less of all besides, they would find, without seeking it, the grand element of unity; for unity, or union, will grow in a Church precisely in proportion as that Church is absorbed by this one theme -Christ's decease, and sacrifice, and atonement made at Jerusalem.

We see now how soberly Paul spoke when he said, "God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of Christ." Emissaries from heaven could find no text so beautiful, so full, so precious; an apostle upon earth, who had been in the third heaven, and who had had a glimpse of its glories, came not to tell what was there, but to cry, "God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of Christ."

How evident that that great decease which Christ accomplished at Jerusalem must have been more than the decease of a mere man, or a patient martyr, or a beautiful example-it must have been an atonement. It is utterly impossible to read the New Testament, and to account for the deeds of Christ, for his sufferings, for

his extraordinary death, except upon the ground that it was an expiation, an atonement, a sacrifice. It is impossible that saints should have come from glory, and apostles should have thus spoken, if that death had not been in some way connected inseparably with the pardon of sin and the glory of God. Let us look forward to that blessed day when the conversation of these two on Tabor shall be the song and the joy of all mankind; and when yet another note shall be added, and that note shall be, not only his decease accomplished at Jerusalem, but his descent when He comes down with the new Jerusalem as a bride prepared for the bridegroom, and all earth shall be a Tabor without its transience, and the hymn of a few at a cross shall be beside the crown, the glory of the skies, and the transfiguration of a Judean mountain melt into the transformation of the whole earth.

LECTURE XXVI.

THE HEAVENLY OBSERVATORY.

There is a purer and a clearer light than that which wraps the earth. Let us try to rise and look around us.

"Come up hither."- REVELATION xi. 12.

It is not intended at present to discuss the historical or the prophetical connection of this clause. It is taken in a humbler, and far more practical, though not more precious and instructive point of view. I suppose it to be an invitation to every Christian to rise to a loftier level, to enter a clearer and a more unclouded air; and from that observatory in the skies to look down and see and estimate the relations and value of the things that are seen and temporal. It is, therefore, as an invitation to go up and look down from that lofty position, that sublime stand-point, upon all that man loves and hates, values and disregards; and form a judgment accordingly. This is a very important thought, whether it flows directly from this passage or not; it is an extremely important one. We look at things that are about us, standing on the level on which those things lie; and the consequence is, their proportions, and their relative magnitude or meanness, are not justly estimated and appreciated by us. Suppose, for instance, you are standing in the depths of a Highland glen on the wet heather, and in the heart of trees that overshadow it; all around feels cold and damp, and looks misty and gloomy. But suppose you ascend from the depths of

the glen and take up your position on some ledge of the mountains or the rocks that are around it. In the sunrise, and standing on the heights, you look down upon the glen that seemed so cold, so damp, and so narrow when you stood in its centre: what is the effect now ? all is altered because your stand-point is. The rocks sparkle like diamonds; the lochs below, like bright mirrors, reflect all the splendour of the sun; the trees, bathed in the sunshine, shine like shafts of glory, or as pillars of fire; and the mountains round, invisible before, now, as the mists rise from them, seem to kneel and worship Him who made them, and marked them and defined them thus. But the difference here is not greater than it is in the moral and in spiritual things. Looking at all things on this earth as we stand in the depth of this crypt that we call the world, everything looks dark, or gloomy, or out of drawing; or its proportions, its relative size and minuteness, are not easily distinguishable, or, if seen, exaggerated. But if you could rise to a loftier position, and look down from that sublime moral height upon all that man calls great, and upon all that man thinks little, you would then see that many a little thing in the world's estimate is truly magnificent, and that many a grand thing in the world's perspective is truly mean, ignoble, and worthless. Let me assume that you are lifted to this apocalyptic pinnacle; that you are looking down upon the world, as one day, I trust, you will look down upon it. I will ask you to look down at its edifices, its monuments-what the poet calls

"Its cloud-capt towers,

Its gorgeous palaces;"

things that man calls immortal; that he has raised to his glory, and on which he means to perpetuate the great deeds and heroic acts of his race or generation. Look down upon these, now, from the observatory to which I suppose you have been raised; and what do you see?

The inscriptions no sooner graven upon the