ransomed by the precious blood of Christ. Hear the Master Himself: "It is the will of my Father which sent me that of them which He has given me I shall lose nothing, but shall raise it up at the last day." Should lose nothing-no one and nothing of any one.

In a remarkable passage in the book of Jude we read that when the devil would have seized the body of Moses, Michael, the archangel, stood guard. He disputed the matter with him-held his golden shield over the precious dust of the hero. It is only a picture of what is going on always, everywhere. The Saviour's dead are all under guard, wherever be their last resting place. O, could we see as one day we shall, we should see the spear point and glittering shield of a celestial picket at every headstone and unmarked mound; they are being kept for the great day that is coming when, risen and changed in the twinkling of an eye, they shall greet their Lord in the air, and so shall they ever be with the Lord.

O, brethren, what is the length and the breadth and the depth and the height of the Easter hope? This is the jewel of the chapter. It glows with the great Easter fact. It paints a lovelier rainbow about the brow of our dying than ever spanned the heavens at set of sun. It tells us of a glory that excelleth awaiting every believer in Christ.

In the midst of the thick discouragements of our days it brings a hope that clears our heavens. To old age and tottering infirmity it brings a staff that cannot fail. It is rich with a promise of youth's renewal and immortal strength, for ye "shall mount upon the wings of eagles and run and not be weary."

It opens to all a wayside fountain for the thirst of

life.

Have we not all of us felt many a time the bitterness and darkness of heart-breaking bereavement? This blessed hope whispers to us-O, so tenderly, lovingly "sorrow ye not as others who have no hope." It is only a little while until the restitution of all things; until those who sleep in Jesus, God shall bring with him and we shall go forth into a new and abundant life, hand in hand with those who have "loved and lost a while."

O, unsaved friend, why do you not lay hold of this Christ of ours? Where shall the resurrection morn

ing find you?

I "Welcome, happy morning!" age to age shall say:
Hell to-day is vanquished, heaven is won to-day!
Lo! the Dead is living, God for evermore!
Him, their true Creator, all his works adore!

2 Maker and Redeemer, Life and Health of all,
Thou, from heaven beholding human nature's fall,
Of the Father's Godhead true and only Son,
Manhood to deliver, manhood didst put on:

3 Thou, of life the Author, death didst undergo,
Tread the path of darkness, saving strength to show:
Come then, true and faithful, now fulfill thy word;
'Tis thine own third morning, rise, O buried Lord!

4 Loose the souls long-prisoned, bound with Satan's chain; All that now is fallen raise to life again;

Show thy face in brightness, bid the nations see,
Bring again our daylight; day returns with thee!

SUNSET GLOW

DR. GEORGE L. PETRIE, PASTOR OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, CHARLOTTESVILLE, VA.

"When it is evening, ye say, It will be fair weather: for the sky is red." (Matt. xvi. 2.)

Sunset glow! It is evening. The sky is read. It is red with the glory of the setting sun. A brilliant sunset makes up for much of angry storm and lowering clouds and murky shadows during the day. Indeed the lingering remnants of storm clouds help to make the beauty and the glory of sunset.

Sunset is intermediate. It is the conclusion of today and the prophecy of tomorrow. It is evening. The day is waning. The sky is red. It will be fair weather tomorrow. Amidst the cares of the day men inquire of the morrow. that has not dawned? has not broken on us? a prophet to whose message we do well to give an earnest heed: That sunset glow! What does it say? What tidings of the morrow does it bring?

What will it be? That day

That morrow whose light What will it be? There is

It is the lesson of life's sunset we wish now to learn. There are three kinds of sunset in the great material world. There are three kinds in the greater world of human life. One is the resplendent, though silent, battle of storm and calm, of radiant light and tinted clouds, of shadow and sunshine. Another is where the clouds still float in a sea of golden light, a picture of beauty and peace. The other is a scene of complete repose. No cloud. Pure lambent light.

In full-orbed glory the king of day unobscured sinks in solitude and silence behind the distant hills.

We find these three kinds of sunset in the close of the careers of three illustrious men of sacred story.

I. PETER: THE SUNSET OF HIS LIFE DAY.

Peter is in Babylon, the great city of the East. His has been a checkered life. His day has been full of storms. There was in Peter that which created storms. There was in him that which invited the rude tempest, and which responded to the rough gale. Oft he had been tossed on the little Galilean sea in his small fishing boat, and had contended with the tempest, and had set his sails to make most of the wind, and had come safely to the shore. So on life's larger sea he had not lain quiet in a calm, nor drifted with a lazy breeze. He had met and weathered storms till it had come to pass he was never at his best in perfect calm.

Peter was ill at ease in a state of absolute repose. In a calm there was so little for his strong active spirit to accomplish or attempt. We know Peter well because we have seen him act. People of action are better known than people of quiet thought. Storms bring men out, and show what they really We have no fault to find with Peter in this

are.

regard.

Peter had been fighting bravely life's great battle many years. He had waged the Christian warfare probably more than thirty years. Since Christ died and left him many years have passed. The novelty of the Gospel has all worn off. Its hardships have come to be fully felt. Its promises have been put to

thorough test. Its grace has had a full opportunity to prove its worth. The Gospel vitality has had time enough to show its force. Here is a man who stood near to Christ; who knew Christ well; who walked with Christ; and now for years has walked without Him. We wish to know of Peter just what he thinks. We wish to hear him speak out of the depth of his personal experience.

We do not care much for the offhand opinions of men who are guessing at the truth. We do not care much for the speculative opinions of men who deal in theories, and build on conjectures. We do not care much for the opinions of men who play with truth, and who scarcely ever indulge in earnest thought. We care little for the conclusions of men who reason out doctrines and tell us what must or must not be. We attach very little importance to the positive announcements of those higher critics who may be traced by the mistakes which they have made and by the pits into which they have fallen.

But we do value, and highly value, the words of a plain, earnest, honest man. We value the words of a man who knows the gospel; who has lived the gospel; who has fought against the gospel, and then has fought with it, and then has fought for it; who has tried it in all kinds of weather; and now speaks his mind about it. We are glad to know what at the end he can truly say. Then his words are not theories about the truth, but are experiences of the truth.

Sunset is the time to talk about the day. Then we know what we are talking about. The day has made its record. In the sunset glow we read the record it has made.