wreath, the laurel, and the green palm of glory is his; now it is his to tread the streets of the New Jerusalem, 66 "And not a wave of trouble rolls Across his peaceful breast." This is not only "a crown of righteousness," but a a crown of life, a life of the most exquisite felicity, a life of the most unutterable pleasure: a soul drinking copiously of the fountain of life, sitting beneath the shadow of the tree of life, plucking of its immortal fruits, where "there is fullness of joy, and pleasures for evermore." Life, where there is no death. -life, where the anxious pangshall never heave the breast, where the briny tear shall never bedew the cheek, but shall live for ever "before the throne of God and of the Lamb, and serve Him day and night in His temple; and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them; and they shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat; for the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters, and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." 66 But, again, this crown shall be "a crown of glory" -bright with glory, all glory, unmixed glory, without a stain, without a tarnish. The stars of heaven shall fade away before it, and the sun shall be enveloped in gloom, when it appears. It is such glory as mortal eye has never gazed on; such glory as the human eye can never conceive of; such glory as the ear of man has never heard of. It is an exceeding weight of glory. Then, my brethren, "Press forward, press forward, the prize is in view; Unlike all human glory, and unlike all other crowns, 66 this is a crown that fadeth not away." Crowns and captors and princes meet and mingle in the dust; all earthly glory is destined to pass, like a sunbeam in a wintry day; the worm is at the gourd, the moth is at the garment, the canker is gathering on the diadem; the glory of every clime and country shall die away; the waves of oblivion shall roll over it, and it shall fade as a leaf; the earth, too, like an atom in the sunbeam, shall glide away; but the Christian's crown of glory shall never fade; nor shall the lapse of years, nor the rolling ages of eternity, dim the brightness of its luster. "The Lord the righteous Judge shall give it me." Who can fail to admire the freeness of the gift, the unmerited character of the gift-the gift of love, the gift of mercy, the gift of God? "At that day" whether he was looking through the vista of ages to the hour of righteous retribution, or to the moment of his dismissal from this vale of tears, is of no vital moment; this we do know, the crown was sure, and "to die was gain." "And not to me only." Not for the few, but the multitude, "a multitude which no man could number," men of every nation, and country, and clime and color. There is a crown for every overcoming Christian, that loves, that longs, that waits for IIis appearing. And what an appearing it will be! Not as a Babe in Bethlehem, not as "a Man of sorrows and acquainted with gri:f," but amid the overwhelming and august splendors of the judgment morning, attended with unnumbered myriads of the angelic hosts, to crown His people with glory, honor, immortality, and eternal life, and "to take vengeance on them that know not God, and that have not obeyed His Gospel." It appears that our friend's first religious impressions. were awakened under the ministry of the Rev. T. Binney, from that text, "Behold, how He loved him." From that period, he continued to attend the preaching of the Word; became a decided character; gave himself to God, and then to the church. His was a decision of the right character; never did he once swerve afterwards from the path of rectitude; his motto was "Onward to the goal." Of his usefulness, his benevolence, devotedness, activity, and zeal, I feel myself inadequate to speak. Four months' painful affliction he endured with the most devout and exemplary patience. When he found the hand of death was evidently upon him, he called each member of the family around his bed, and bid them a most affectionate farewell. And that farewell echoes in my ear yet; for I too heard it. He then charged. them all to meet him in heaven. How that injunction thrilled through each soul! Solemn would it have been at any time, but now it was raised to an overwhelming climax. It falls on my ear, with an unspeakable distinctness, as I walk along the streets-"Meet me in heaven." The dying pillow, from whence it came; the pathos with which it fell from his lips; and the fact of its being almost the last breath, brings it home to the soul with deathless sensibility. Then he called for that sweet hymn "Yes," said he, "He is my shield; He is my deliverer." Being asked if he had any wish to be gratified, he replied, "I die in peace with all men." He dwelt much on that delightful hymn before he quite finished his course He calmly fell asleep in Jesus, in the thirty-second year of his age; and while his friends were mourning below, he was rejoicing before the throne. It but remains for me to urge all here to follow in his footsteps. That eye that has wept for you, will weep no more; that tongue that was eloquent in prayer, is silent in the tomb; that heart which glowed with such holy emotion for your salvation, is cold in death; it will beat no more for you. What then, beloved ?—Arise, and weep for yourselves; arise, and pray for yourselves; arise, and address yourselves to the journey. It is not long; the sunbeams are waning, the day is all but gone; the night shades are falling thick and fast around you. Arise, and "seek the Lord while He may be found, and call upon Him while IIe is near." It may be the last time the voice of mercy shall break upon your ear; the last time He shall woo you to the wounds of a bleeding Jesus; the last time the Spirit shall strive; the last moment God may wait your cry. Come, come now. God help you all to come! Amen. THE FUNERAL AT THE GATE OF NAIN. REV. W. D. HORWOOD. ST. JAMES'S CHAPEL, PONTYPOOL. "Behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow."-LUKE vii: 12. HE city of Nain, whither our Lord was journeying, THE and at the gate of which this great miracle was wrought, is not mentioned elsewhere in Scripture. It lay upon the southern border of Galilee, in the neighborhood of Endor, about two miles south from Mount Tabor, and at the foot of Mount Hermon. At present it is but a poor and deserted village, consisting only of a few houses, yet from the ruins scattered round, it must have been formerly of considerable extent, though now no monument of antiquity is to be found there. That our Lord should meet the funeral at the gate ef the city, may be considered nothing more than a natural circumstance, to be explained by the fact that the Jews did not suffer the interring of the dead in towns, but had their burial places without the walls. Probably there was very much in the circumstances of the sad procession, to excite a feeling of sympathy and pity even among those who were not generally touched with a lively feeling for human sorrows; and it was this, no doubt, which had brought "much people" together to accompany the bier. Indeed, it would be hard to make the picture of desolation more complete, than that described by the evangelist—“There was a dead man carried out the only son of his mother, and she was a widow." And such was the bitterness of the mourning for an only son, that it had passed into a proverb thus, in Jeremiah, 6: 26, "Make thee mourning as for an only son, most bitter lamentation ;" and in Zachariah, 12: 10, "They shall mourn for him as one mourneth for his only son ;" and again, Amos 8: 10, “I will make it as the mourning of an only son." I. In treating upon our subject, the first thing that arrests our attention is a dead body, a corpse, being carried in its shroud, not in a closed-up coffin, upon the shoulders of men to its grave. This now, as then, as As the respects the corpse, is no unusual circumstance. body is passing us we look, it may be, vacantly upon the procession; it is no strange sight to us. We turn aside from it, as a matter of course, to our daily avocations. And if we are led to think about the matter at all, our thoughts pass from ourselves to the deceased. We ascribe the death of such to natural causes. We say, so |