Saviour? Is our belief not a speculative, but a personal trust in an eternal Saviour -a perfect sacrifice for sin? Are we born again? Is our heart changed? Men are disputing in the present day about rites and ceremonies, and, intentionally or unintentionally, disguising this great truth (and the devil will let us believe what we like about baptism, if we will only let this go); "Except a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven." No rite, priest, ceremony, or church, can save us. The same Spirit of God that shall quicken the dead in their graves, is the only power that can change our hearts now. May we recollect that to be a Christian is not to be a patched up old building-or to make an improvement in this nook and in that department or to lay aside intemperance, and have recourse to avarice or to drive out one wicked passion, to bring in another and more "respectable" one, as it is called; but to be born again, to be turned from darkness to light, to undergo a process which must be complete, total, and entire; a change properly designated by being "born again," all things becoming new-a new faith, new hope, new hearts, new joy; and only, if we are so justified by that Saviour, sanctified by that Spirit, does our happiness begin. If, however, we are sanctified, justified, changed, renewed, then we walk the world with an elastic step; we feel the sky to be the dome of our Father's house; and all things - wind, wave, storm, pestilence, plague, and famine — working together for our good; we feel, too, that as the years of life roll onward with greater rapidity, they are only carrying us faster to that blessed assembly where old familiar faces will again be restored, and Jesus shall be seen as he is, and we shall be like him.

"There, in the twilight cold and grey,
Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay,
And from the sky serene and far,

A voice fell like a falling star

"Excelsior!'"

"If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affections. on things above, not on things on the earth."- COLoss. iii. 1, 2.

THE Apostle assumes in the words I have quoted, that Christ is risen from the dead, and that Christians in heart, in spirit, and in affection, are risen with Him also. He is risen as the "first-fruits," and they rise with Him above the world, in spirit, waiting for that day when they shall rise not only in soul, but in body also for "all that sleep in their graves shall come forth; and the dead in Christ shall rise first." Now, says the Apostle, if this blessed Saviour be the God of your love- - if He be the source of your happiness if He be that centre towards which all the lines and radii of your affections constantly converge if He be risen far above the things that are seen, into the realms of things that are real, but now unseen, follow him in heart and hope, till that day come when you shall follow him in fact. If Christ be risen, set your affections upon things that are where Christ is, things that are above, and not upon things that are where we live, and that soon pass away.

I ask, in the first place, In what sense can it be said that the things of eternity-the things that are where Christ is are things above? It does not mean that they are mechanically or physically so. There is no more excellence in the zenith than there is in the nadir; there is no more piety in the heights than in the depths. What is above at twelve o'clock to-day is below at twelve o'clock at night: it is, therefore, impossible to construe the word

"above" as if it meant something mechanically or physically so. It is an allusion to something of a sublimer, loftier, and purer import, on which Christians are to set their hearts, as the source of their happiness and joy. An unregenerate man would be no nearer heaven if he could suddenly unfurl an angel's wing, and soar till he seated himself upon the most distant fixed star; and a child of God be no nearer hell if he could pierce all the geological strata of our globe, and locate himself at the very centre of it. It is not height, or space, but it is character, that makes happiness. "Heaven," says Dr. Chalmers, "is not so much a locality as a character." They that have that character shall find heaven everywhere; and they that have it not shall feel nothing but hell everywhere. Misery grows on all trees, is reflected from all objects, is heard in all tones, to the eyes and ears of the lost; and, on the other hand, joy sparkles in the height and in the depth, grows upon every bush, is eloquent in every utterance, in wind, and wave, and comes down from the sky, and emerges from the earth, and from all things, to them that are the children of God, and are the called according to his purpose. Make you sure of being where Christ is; and, it matters not where the locality be, the happiness must be perfect. Run the risk of being where Christ is not; and it matters not if you are amid the bloom and the unfolding glory of Paradise itself—you would drink nothing but streams of bitterness, and breathe nothing but a perpetual

curse.

Man is a bundle of things called "affections;" and, by the very nature and constitution of his being, he must set these affections upon something. We can no more strip man of his affections (far less so, indeed,) than of his senses. In order to avoid sin, we do not say to a man: "Shut the ear, pluck out the eye;" but we say: "Open

the ear to what is good, and the eye to what is pure, and beautiful, and holy." So we speak of the affections : having these affections, there is given a prescription, not for their extirpation, but for their application to that which is good and holy. Man will cease to live the instant that he ceases to love: love he must; his excellency is in the exercise of his affections, his God is the object on which his holiest affection should repose. There can be no such thing as a vacuum in the human heart; there can be no such thing as love without an object. The Apostle Paul knew this fact, and he prescribes, not for the extinction of the affections, but for their refinement, their elevation, their resting upon objects meet and worthy of so great and glorious things.

Thus Christianity has no sympathy whatever with Stoicism. The old stoic insisted that man should not laugh, nor weep, nor cry, nor feel; and that the perfect man was he that made the greatest possible approximation to a marble statue: this is nothing like Christianity. The epicurean, on the other hand, said man should eat, and drink, and laugh, and make the most of his senses while he had them, knowing that to-morrow he must die. The one system wished man to be a statue; the other would have reduced him below the swine or the beasts that perish: the one regarded him as reaching the highest excellence when he had become callous to every thing; the other regarded him as reaching his highest happiness when he gave license and scope to all the depraved and fallen passions of his nature. God says: "Be not the stoic, but love.". God says: "Be not the epicurean, and love the sensual; but be the Christian, and love the holy, the beautiful, the good, the true." Have affections; exercise your affections; they need training, not extirpating; set your affections upon things that are above, not upon things that are below.