the perfect rest, which remaineth for the people of God. Of that resting-place we can know little or nothing here. We know much in general, but nothing exactly. We are consoled and strengthened by the assurance that it will be perfect rest; but of what elements it will be composed, and what the enjoyment of it will be, we must wait to know. We look with sin-clouded eye towards its beautiful serenities. We speak of its calm raptures with stammering tongue. It lies not only beyond the bounds of earth, but so far beyond our earthly experiences that we can hardly even imagine what it will be. The stillest evening never shed its calm around us. The most blissful Sabbath day never lifted the worshipper within reach of the outermost wave of its rapture. The happiest change of life never yet brought mortal within sight of the placid shore, or within hearing of the perfect harmonies. The path to it no fowl knoweth, and the vulture's eye hath not caught its most distant gleam. It is hid from the eyes of all living, and kept close from the fowls of the air. Destruction and death say we have heard the fame thereof with our ears. God understandeth the way thereof, and he knoweth the place thereof. Let that be enough for us. Christ will prepare it, and to all who are prepared for it will in due time secure its everlasting enjoyment. The preparation for it will be achieved in the diligent use of the other restingplaces which are opened to us as we pass on our way.

In the meditation of the Evening, in the worship of the Sabbath, in thoughtfulness amid change, in patience under trouble, and in the last sweet sleep of the grave, our preparation will be completed for that rest which will be rapture, and for that glory which will crown all earthly grace.

After all that has been said, we need one great complemental truth, which is this-that we do not find our true rest in places at all, but only in persons. The living soul must have a living portion. Men think they live in places and among things. They live really among persons. What were the fairest prospect if a man were

condemned to behold it for ever alone? What the most gorgeous palace if he must hear no footstep but his own treading the splendid but deserted rooms? What even the higher things of this human life, the duties and the interests, and the struggles, if there were not intermingled with them all a sense of the nearness of other human beings, and if there were not the continual reciprocal action of those affections and sympathies which make life so sacred and dear? But no human being, no assemblage of human beings, can meet the wants and fulfil the longings of even one human soul. It is better to live among persons than among things. Only a mean man—a miser, a misanthrope, or a coward-will stay among things; but we may live among persons and yet come short of the ultimate and perfect rest. Ah, yes! if we live only among ourselves, there will still be an

inner silence a darkness that may be felt." The heart of many a one who is crowned with social gifts, and surrounded with friendly faces and helping hands, waits still and listens, and says, "I have not heard the glad tidings yet!" No; you have not indeed, if you have been living only among human beings, however precious and dear, only among humanities, however tender and true. Your heart is waiting, and aching while it waits, for an infinite sympathy, for an everlasting strength, for a grace that will cancel sin and restore purity, in one word, for the love of God; for the love of God in Christ. And He stands this day ready to welcome you into the everlasting rest. All the restingplaces we have been trying to describe are his. He alone can give you the sweetest peace of the evening hour. He is Lord of the Sabbath, ruler of change, Saviour from trouble, guardian of the grave, proprietor of heaven; and in these you will find true rest only as you find it in him the rest of a penitent, faithful, loving heart. We leave with you, then, his own divine words, and no words of ours shall follow them, for indeed they are high and wonderful words-kingly, solemn, loving, pure, richer than gold, fairer than beauty, sweeter than song, and better worth the telling over this wide earth among toiling and suffering men, than all the other news which fly abroad from tongues, and pens, and books" Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest!"

THIS

The Dew.

I will be as the dew unto Israel.—HOSEA xiv. 5.

HIS is a gracious promise to a penitent and returning people. Israel had "fallen by her iniquity;" but "he who pardoneth iniquity, transgression, and sin” had earnestly exhorted her to arise and return by repentance and righteousness to himself; to "take with her words" of humble confession, of earnest entreaty, of renewed covenant engagement, of grateful loving trust, and of solemn vow and promise for the future. And it is on the supposition that that gracious exhortation has been laid to heart, and that the great work of religious repentance has begun that the Lord comes forth with abundant and adapted promises, among which we find this promise which we are now to consider, "I will be as the dew unto Israel."

In some eastern countries the dew falls much more copiously than it ever does with us, and vegetation is much more dependant on its coming. In Palestine the heat of summer is very intense, and for months together there are no rains to cool the air and refresh the earth. During that time every thing would be withered and parched but for the nightly abundance of the refreshing

dew. There is a space of time in the very height of summer when even the dew almost fails, but it is abundant for some time after "the former rains," and it begins to abound again some time before the descent of “the latter rains." It hardly need be said that it is of the greatest value to all who are engaged in agricultural pursuits. It assuages the fierce drought of the season. With its nightly baptism it invigorates the languid vegetation, and renews greenness and growth over the whole landscape.

“I will be as the dew unto Israel." As the dew: there must then be some points of analogy between the descent of the dew upon the ground, and the gracious comings and manifestations of God to his people; and we may hope that it will contribute somewhat to our instruction and help if we now endeavour to discover and describe them. "As the dew."

The dew falls very quietly and gently. On the tempestuous night there is none. If the waves are chafing the shore, if the winds are howling among the trees, if clouds are hurrying across the sky, there is no descent of dew. It is distilled beneath serene heavens. crystal drops are formed under the wing of silence and in the bosom of the quiet night.

Its

So is God to his people when he comes to revive