say to us, as the Apostle said to those of old, "Now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. The night is far spent, the day is at hand." And they

who speak are themselves the evidence of the fact they proclaim. What is it that shines in the yet dark East, poised as it were over the unrisen sun, to tell that it is on its way? It is the morning star. Apostles at the beginning were rather the star of evening-the first lights to appear in heaven when the Light of the world had set. But Apostles, re-appearing now, remind us of that which Astronomy tells, that the same star is now an evening, IOW a morning one-Hesperus over the buried sun, Phosphorus in the van of his return; but as Hesper and as Phosphor one and the same. The ministry now is as the ministry then, in its immediate mission and its universal charge. But its witness is different in direction-then to the Christ that had gone, now to the Christ that is coming again.

We, seeing this day-star, know that the dawn is near. But there is one thing required, if the Sun that is rising is to bring us joy and peace, and that is what St. Peter hints at " until the day dawn, and the day-star arise in our hearts." Not before our eyes only, but in our hearts-to be there an object of grateful appreciation, of loving loyalty, of fruitful devotion. So apprehended, the forerunner shall bring us to the Christ indeed; and the endless day of a happy future shall ere long flood us with its holy light.

"The night is far spent: the day is at hand."

II.

THE Prophet of old stood upon his watch-tower, and when one cried unto him, "Watchman, what of the night?" the answer was, "The morning cometh, but also the night." The sense of dwelling in the night, but watching for the morning, is present throughout their goodly fellowship, until the last one closes his roll with the assurance that unto them that fear His name the Sun of righteousness shall arise with healing in His wings.

Four hundred years passed by, and then the Sun of righteousness arose. Healing indeed, and light and life, came to all who were reached by His rays. Had the world, which was made by Him, known Him; had His own, to whom He came, received Him, the Day of God might then have begun. But that Sun went down at midnoon, in the eclipse of rejection and death. The morning came, but also the night. And when the Apostles took up the Prophets' stand, they looked around upon a world lying in darkness still. The night was far spent, they hoped but it was still night.

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Why does the Church choose these words for her Epistle on Advent Sunday? Is it not that she believes them to be as true now as when first they were spoken? The night in which the Apostle felt himself is still reigning, and will reign, until the Sun that then set in blood arise again upon the earth. Some think that it has long ago given place to-day. The Sun of righteousness still shines, they say, into the hearts that cleave to Him in faithful memory and loving communion. From

this ever-multiplying company the light He gives is being diffused world-wide. We thank God that it is so. But what is this but to say that our night is not without a moon ; a lesser light to catch and reflect the rays of the greater luminary while hidden from our view? But the moon can only brighten the night; it cannot dispel it, nor make it day. The earth acknowledges it not; the birds will not sing in its light, nor the flowers open to its rays. Nothing but the sun can make the day. The memory of what He was only makes us long the more for His presence again. The communion which under the veil of earthly things we now have with Him only makes us athirst for the time when with unveiled face we shall behold Him. Do not tell us that the kingdom has come while the King is absent. Shine on, moon and stars, and bless with useful light. We shall none the less look for the sunrising, and watch for the dawn of day.

For again, the Advent Epistle is "the night is far spent, the day is at hand." If those words were true when the Apostle wrote them, how much more true must they be now. Many an hour of darkness has passed since then; and the long night must surely be wearing to its close. There are many whisperings of a change in the dark world now around us. If any have often watched through the night, by a sick bed, or, it may be, upon one, they know that there is a frequent token just before the dawn that it is drawing near. If all has hitherto been still, there rises a single gust of wind, and sweeps over the earth. When it has died away, the earliest birds begin to sing, and the watcher at the window may see in the far East the first faint streaks of dawn.

Has it not been thus in the history of the Church in this our day? The wind that bloweth where it listeth

suddenly arose, waking many a

sleeper, and telling those The Holy Spirit swept

who watched that day was near. through His temple; ard then arose many a sweet voice of prophecy, and sang of the coming joy. And now, watchman, what of the night? Is the light growing in the East? If so, it is high time we should awake out of sleep; that we cast off the works of darkness, and put on the armour of light. Let not the first sunbeams strike upon us yet half awake and unkempt from our slumbers. Still less let them find us in the revellings of the flesh, and we stand shivering and ashamed in the cold light of the discovering dawn. But up and ready, with hearts cleansed by His Blood and robed in His Righteousness, let us stand to meet our King.

O dawn of Eden, bright over earth and sky! When shall we hail thee? When shall we come nigh to thee? The Lord hasten the time, for His own name's sake!

SECOND SUNDAY IN ADVENT.

The Emergence of the High Priest from within the Veil.

Heb. ix. 28.

"Unto them that look for Him shall He appear the second time without sin unto salvation.'

THIS passage occurs at the close of the well-known application of the rites of the great Day of Atonement to the work of Jesus Christ. On that day the High Priest went within the veil into the Holy of Holies, bearing with him the blood of the sacrifice he had offered in the outer court. Entering in, he sprinkled the blood before the Mercy-seat, and caused sweet incense to arise to Him who dwelt thereon between the cherubims. So, says the writer to the Hebrews, Christ in His Ascension entered the true Holiest, even heaven itself, there to appear in the presence of God for us. Appearing before the Throne as the Lamb as it had been slain, He as it were sprinkles in memorial the blood of His Sacrifice once offered here below. Ever making intercession for us, incense of truest acceptableness goes up from His hand. But there is yet another step in the parallel. The High Priest did not remain within the veil till the day had ended; at the time of the evening sacrifice he came forth in his garments for glory and for beauty, to bless the waiting people. And so, the writer concludes, the work of the High Priest of our profession is not yet finished. He is within the veil; and we stand without, waiting till He re-appears to bless