conquerors of the world, and those they enslaved; all whom a divine ray reached and raised from darkness to light, shall sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, and prove that no external circumstances can intercept the entrance of the glorious gospel, or form an impassable wall between the Saviour and the sinner. Men, too, of every rank and class of society-those at the apex, and those at the very basis of the social pyramid-the monarch who reigns over many millions, and the mechanic who knows but two things-his business and his Bible; the noble who looks back upon a lineage stretching into ancient times, and the peasant whose home is the circumference of his family, and whose lineage is soon read on the fly-leaf of its only heirloom and crest and ornament-the Word of God; the sufferer from his bed of sickness; the martyr from his flame-shroud; the missionary from his lonely grave; the soldier from his gory bed; and the sailor from his sea-tomb, shall come together, having nothing in common but love and likeness to Christ, and share in the sacred festivities of the marriage-supper of the Lamb. Castle and camp, and royal palace, and noble hall, shall each furnish guests; each rank and degree of life shall have its representatives before the throne. However these may have differed in gifts, in privileges, in circumstances, on earth, they have all one great family likeness; and so it will be seen, when the masks of earth have all dropped off, and the divine features of a regenerated nature shine forth in infinite variety, but with imperishable lustre. At this marriage-feast there will be enjoyed perfect rest. The labourer rests at eventide, the warrior rests after the battle, and the Christian at the close of his pilgrimage. Each faculty and affection will enjoy its peculiar Sabbath, and every capacity will receive its suitable nutriment, and every feeling its divine and elevating ecstasy; and the whole man will enjoy a festival which the most expressive symbols only enable us to see through a glass darkly. Those perplexities which baffled our researches upon earth will all be unravelled, those difficulties which we could not master here will be dissolved in that pure sunshine; and mysteries seen to be so now will cease to be so there, and providences as inscrutable as they are painful in this dispensation, will then find their solution in a flood of glory; and the sacred page on which we have found clouds and darkness, will be seen clear and beautiful in that holy light. Then will be creation's jubilee— the church's triumph-the Redeemer's glory. A large portion of those who have made themselves ready is now in the more immediate presence of the Lamb. The locality they now live and worship and rejoice in, we do not know-it may be much nearer us than we are aware-but, wherever it be, there is no family on earth that has not an interest in it—that is not linked to it by indissoluble ties-that has not amid its shining numbers a representative waiting for the hour that restores to them those they left on earth. A large portion of its predestined inheritors is still unborn; many are now living, but not yet born again. Many are now the sons of God, walking worthy of their high calling. Those within the vail and those without, the in-door and out-door servants, are alike constituents of the church of the redeemed; and, in due time, the whole family in heaven and earth shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, at the marriage-supper of the Lamb. My dear brethren, we are all now on trial for this sublime and glorious destiny. Each year, as it rolls away, is so precious, because it carries us either to this great gathering or away from it. Each minute is replete with infinite value, for it contributes to the formation of a character which shall outlast the dissolution of all things, and be darkened with an everlasting eclipse, or be resplendent with the rays of glory. Every thing we now do or say stretches into this solemn future. Every word and act has its echo hereafter. What we now sow we shall hereafter reap, in gladness or sorrow, in joy or tears. The queen upon her throne, the prime-minister before her, the peer, the clergyman, the physician, the merchant, the tradesman, the Protestant, the Roman Catholic, the infidel, the atheist, are all rushing, with speed that can neither be retarded nor arrested, into that awful future which divides them in two great classes-one for the festival of the Lamb, the other for the wrath of the Lamb. Extinction is im possible. The soul is a word that cannot be unspoken—a leaf that cannot be annihilated. Whether we smile or weep, Time wings his flight; Whether we laugh or groan, Seasons change fast; Swift as the past. Whether we chafe or chide, On is Time's pace; Never his noiseless step Doth he retrace. Speeding, still speeding on, How, none can tell; Soon will he bear us To heaven or hell. Dare not, then waste thy days Reckless and proud; Lest while ye dream not, Time spread thy shroud. It is the desire of God that all whom I now address should rise and share in the hallowed hospitalities of the Lamb. He has spread before every eye the sacred page from which remonstrant flashes, like the flame-sword of the cherubim, warn us from the paths of ruin. Every week he sends us the Sabbath, like a messenger from the skies, to reveal afresh the sanctuary, the ordinances of the gospel, the message of love, the means of grace, the hopes of glory; there is no speech where its voice is not heard; its line is gone out through all the world; it bids you prepare for the marriage-supper of the Lamb. God's providential dealings incessantly impress the same truth. He awakens the sleeping judgments which he has in store, and charges them to strike that they may stir us up to reflection and forethought. Sickness and bereavement, the shrouds of our babes and the graves of our fathers, the arrow by day and the pestilence by night, the surges of a nation's wrath and the ripples of an individual's sorrow, are the trumpets of God sounding in our ears our growing responsibilities, and urging on us piercing motives to arise and make ready, for "Behold, the Bridegroom cometh." 143 LECTURE X. THE APOCALYPTIC TEMPLE. "And I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty, and the Lamb, are the temple of it."-Revelation xxi. 22. THIS Sounds like a discord in the harmony of heaven-it looks as if it were the projected shadow of "No God !"-it seems out of place. "No tears," one can easily admit as an Eden feature, and joyfully anticipate as a blessed fact; but "no temple" seems a gap in the landscape-a stain on the glory-a cloud on the bright sky. Take away the house of prayer, and our peaceful Sabbath, and our public ordinances, and our village spires, and the chimes of Sabbath bells, and the hill of Zion, the ascending crowds of solemn worshippers, and the songs of praise, and the rich, deep calm that still overflows, as with the light and love of the better land, our Sundays, even in England, and you seem to me to despoil earth of half its beauty, time of its most brilliant gems, and humanity of its sweetest and most precious birthright. This negative, too, seems to contradict other Apocalyptic sketches. We read in one place, "The temple of God was opened;" in another, "The temple was filled with smoke;" and in another, "They serve Him in his temple." In these passages it seems to be intimated that the wide earth shall then be one glorious temple; but in the passage under consideration, it appears to be thought that the millennial age shall have no temple at all. There is no contradiction-there is real harmony between these statements, if we will only listen; a little reflection and discrimination will bring it out. It will be granted by every Christian, that during the coming era, when the gospel shall universally prevail in its highest, deepest, and purest influence, there will be no skeptic, infidel, or Socialist temple. Such are and have been in this dispensation; but in the New Jerusalem, law, order, and love shall be the air |