the surface, they come to light; they flaunt themselves in the glare of noonday, and are proclaimed upon the housetops; they find the sinner out; either directly or indirectly, either by a chain which plainly connects effect with cause, or by some subtle, spiritual connection which is perfectly plain to the conscience, and to the observer, they become manifest. Sickness or misfortune, sometimes even prosperity and happiness, sometimes ordinary events which place the man under a varying set of circumstances, proclaim him. He is what he is. Voices say to him, “Thou art the man"; fingers point at him, and proclaim, "Thou didst it"; and with bowed head, and cheek red with shame, he stands convicted of his own conscience.

And what are all these things, my brethren, but types and shadows of that awful hour, of that judgment which ever draws nearer and nearer? The saints beneath the altar lift their ceaseless intercession. The earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God. Soon the eternal beauty shall be revealed. The Son of Man shall come in His glory, with all his Holy angels with Him. The things that are unseen shall be made manifest. Faith, and prayer, and the mysteries of Grace, and the power of the Sacraments, and the victories which love and truth have won, these shall be proclaimed with the archangel's trump. Then shall the heavens pass away with a great noise, and the elements melt with fervent heat, and each soul shall be in that awful Presence, at whose glance the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed.

My brethren, let us learn from all this, first of all, the great benefit of plainness, and simplicity, and honest truthfulness; the benefit of seeking to appear just what we are -no better, no worse. Let us learn, too, to bear injustice,

and misconception, and want of appreciation with quiet calmness; because so soon it will all be right. Let us learn also the great benefit of the honest shame, that takes away shame, in the penitent acknowledgment of sin; judging ourselves, that we be not judged of the Lord. And last of all, let us seek, even while we have earthly blessings, and are thankful for them, in the midst of summer days and happy hours-much more, in times of trouble and distress to have our hearts safely stored with Him who knows all that we are, and accepts, not because of what we are, but because with humble penitence we put our trust in Him.

The world tosses and rages, it is full of unrest and disquiet; by hidden forces which it does not perceive, it is ever preparing for the end that is to be. The Church itself, as well it may, partakes of the universal movement. There are those, alas! who seek to overthrow its ancient heritage, and strip it of its vesture of glorious beauty. But far away, beyond these voices, the lamps of fire are burning before the throne of God. There is the sea of glass like unto crystal; the seraphim veil their faces; the four and twenty cast their crowns before the throne; the angels bear the vials full of odors, which are the prayers of saints; and in the midst of the throne is a Lamb, as it had been slain.

O clouds of heaven, roll away! Illimitable ether, melt and pass, that our eyes may behold the King in His beauty, that we may rest for ever in the land which is very far off!

XIII.

THE FULLNESS OF JOY.

(Preached at Convocation, Milwaukee, 1872.)

"In Thy presence is the fullness of joy."-PSALM xvi., part of verse 12.

EARTHLY joy is ever imperfect. I need not say this of that laughter of fools which, we are told, is like the crackling of thorns under a pot; nor of the wild merriment of sin; for these are not joy, but rather deepest sorrow. But the best things of earth, those that are full of true joy, are necessarily imperfect. Change and chance, time and decay, happen to them all. They have their season, and their season passes. A time to be born, but ah! a time to die; a time to plant, but ah! a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to laugh, but ah! a time to weep; a time to dance, but ah! a time to mourn. "Go thy way," says the wise man, "eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy wine with a merry heart. Let thy garments be always white, and thy head lack no ointment." But ah! "the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor riches to men of understanding, nor favor to men of skill; for time and

chance happeneth to them all." "One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh. . . . The sun ariseth and the sun goeth down. . . . The rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not full. . . . The thing that hath been is that which shall be . . . . for all things are vanity."

But the text speaks of a joy which is not imperfect-a joy from which nothing can be taken away-the plenitude, the entirety, the fullness of joy. This joy, it tells us, is in God's presence.

Let us consider, then, what is meant by the presence of God. God is present everywhere, upholding all things by the word of His power. Nor yet present merely as they who hold to pantheistic views would say-as a subtile essence pervading all things, but present in the entirety of His person in every place at the same time. And because God is everywhere He has His influence in all things. All things partake of Him. They are His offspring; He sustains, supports, preserves. The planets move in their courses, the sun pours forth its mysterious power, the vast frame of the world is uplifted by His will; the mountains lifting their heads to Heaven, the rivers rolling their waters to the sea, the ceaseless beating of the waves of the ocean, the lions roaring after their prey, the eagle soaring to the sun, the sparrow falling to the ground, the tiniest thing that crawls, and man, the noblest of his creaturesin Him they live and move and have their being. Beyond the laws that govern, behind the powers that control, mightier than all forces and ruling them all, His judg ments unsearchable, His ways past finding out, is the personal will and personal presence of the Personal God. And this is true of each person of the blessed Trinity, of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost.

To unfallen man the omnipresence of God was the fullness of joy, but to fallen man it has ever been a source of dread and fear. Hence it is that scientific unbelief is ever seeking to put His own laws instead of Him. Hence it is that philosophic unbelief trembles at His personal presence, and seeks to explain it away. Adam hid himself from God's presence; Cain went out from His presence a fugitive and a vagabond. Even the saints were terrified at it. Jacob, when he lighted on a certain place, tarried there all night and dreamed, and, beholding a ladder set upon the earth and angels ascending and descending, declared, “How dreadful is this place!" Holy Job proclaims, "I have heard of Thee with the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth Thee; wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." When Isaiah saw the throne high and lifted up, and above it the seraphim, and heard the Thrice Holy sung by angelic forms with faces bowed and veiled feet, he poured forth the lamentation: "Woe is me! for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts."

And thus it became the voice of humanity. "No man can see God and live." Nay, St. John says something which seems to contradict all the rest of the Scripture when he says, "No man hath seen God at any time," but in the same breath explains the contradiction, and pours a flood of glory on every vision of God recorded in the Old Testament, when he adds, “The only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him." It needs not to be proved, then, that this fullness of joy of which the text speaks, for fallen man, is to be found, and only found, in the presence of the Incarnate Son of God. For