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of administering a yearly word of consolation, in way, to Parents. Scarcely a family is there in which some blossoms of Hope have not been snatched away before they opened into flowers of Promise, or ripened into fruits of Joy. And I do believe that a balm has been herein provided,-in this day's commemoration, I mean,for the heart of many a Mother whose tale of sorrow could not, from the very nature of the case, win for her much sympathy from strangers. Only a little child!'. . . . But when she sees in the very van of the Christian Year a band of exulting Babes in bliss, she knows that her own is one of them and since they are CHRIST's, so (she feels) is what she cherished, CHRIST's also. A mysterious hope is created within her, (as well it may be!) that there was a purpose and a plan, deep and faithful to all GoD's attributes of Mercy, Love, and Wisdom,-in her case no less than in the case of the slaughtered Babes of Bethlehem. The Church's honour consoles her for the World's indifference; while Rachel's tears,-(and Rachel would not be comforted!)-seem to her a Divine warrant for her own; and she remembers with unutterable thankfulness how it is written in a certain place,-"Thus saith the LORD, Refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes

from tears for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the LORD and they shall come again from the land of the Enemy. And there is hope in thine end, saith the LORD, that thy Children shall come again to their own border a!"

Jer. xxxi. 16, 17.

The Sunday after Christmas Day.

THE GREAT JOY OF CHRISTMAS.

S. LUKE ii. 8—11.

And there were in the same country Shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the Angel of the LORD came upon them, and the glory of the LORD shone round about them and they were sore afraid.

And the Angel said unto them, Fear not for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a SAVIOUR, which is CHRIST the LORD.

WHEN We hear an Angel from Heaven declaring good tidings of great joy which should be to all people, the heart is straightway set on remembering how wondrous true this declaration of his has proved already set on considering how true it will infallibly prove to the end....His "Fear not" reminds us how much reason we have to fear when a message comes to guilty Man

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from GOD. His "Behold" rivets our gaze on his glorious person, and reminds us that no one but an Angel was worthy to bring such tidings down to Earth from Heaven. His talk of " "glad tidings" reminds us that this message of his was the Gospel in a very small compass. His announcement of "great joy" is the key-note to our present rejoicing. His declaration that it should be "to all people," is a prophetic hint of what shall be in all lands,-even unto the very end of the World: nay, it is the only tenure by which we hold our own actual bliss.

At this season, the heart takes refuge in the past, if growing old: if young, it revels in the present. Either way, it asks for only so much of Doctrine as shall suffice to build its gratitude or its gladness on. It is a time for the solemn recollection of mercies past; recollection of the many bright occasions when the family circle was complete, no link wanting; and Christmas was only another name for Joy. To how many does the present season bring with it nothing so much as these tender memories of the past! There may be rejoicing all around: we may be called upon to bear our part in the mirth of Christmas but deep in how many hearts dwells the image of what can never be restored,-never

until the Day in which CHRIST shall make up His jewels, and bring back the dead! It must be so. It is right that so it should be. There is less of bitterness in those tears than in any others; for they spring from the tenderest of sources, the images of childhood, and the memory of parental love, and of the dear but vanished faces which once made up our notion of earthly bliss. Nay, there is no bitterness in the tears which Christmas brings. It is rather very sober joy, than sorrow, which awaits any; for after all, nothing can take away from us the memory of buried love: while to the greater part, one would fain believe that Christmas is a season of mere rejoicing and unmixed delight.

It is but reasonable at such a time to ask ourself the question, Whence it is, and why, that we make Christmas our season of rejoicing and festivity, more even than Easter,-more than any other season of the year? And I must really beg you to ask yourselves this question; and, if you please, to go along with me while I endeavour to reply to it myself.

Now the fountain-head of the river of our bliss, is the manger at Bethlehem. Every separate stream of our rejoicing is to be traced back thither. The source and beginning of it all is