n the thought of Eternity and our place there, are by no means as
prominent in the minds of the Christian people of this generation as
they used to be. Partly, I suppose, that arises from the wholesome
emphasis which has been given of late years to the present day, and
this-side-the grave effects of Christianity, upon character and life.
Partly it arises, I think, from the half-consciousness of being
surrounded by an atmosphere of scepticism and unbelief as to a future
life, and from the most unwise, inexpedient, and cowardly yielding to
the temptation to say very little about the distinctive features of
Christianity, and to dwell rather upon those which are sure to be
recognised by even unbelieving people. And it comes, too, from the
lack of faith, which, again, it tends mightily to increase.

Oh, dear brethren! our consciences tell us what different people we
should be if habitually there shone before us that great, solemn
issue to which we are all tending. Variations in the atmosphere there
will always be, and sometimes the distant outlines will be clearer
and sharper than at others, and the colours will shine out more
distinctly. But surely it should not be that our vision of the
Eternal should be like the vision that dwellers amongst the mountains
have of the summits. They say that some of the great peaks of the
world are swathed in mist all day long, and that only for a few
moments in the morning, or for a brief space in the evening, does the
solemn summit gleam rosy in the light. And that, I am afraid, is very
much like the degree in which most of us look at 'the things that are
not seen' and so we are feeble, and we do not understand 'the things
that are not seen'; and we do not get the good out of them.

Dear brethren, let us turn away our eyes from the gauds that we can
see, and open the eyes of our spirits on the things that are, the
things where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. Surely,
surely, it is madness that when two sets of objects are before us,
the one lasting for a moment, and then dying down into black
nothingness, and the other shining on for ever; and when our 'look'
settles whether we shall share the fate of the one or of the other,
we should choose to gaze with all our eyes and hearts at the
perishable and turn away from the permanent. Surely, if it is true
that the things which are seen are temporal, common-sense, and a
reasonable regard for our own well-being, bid us look at the e