rting strife,
Is down to clay and coldness cast;
The struggling soul can learn the story,
How angels waft the blest to glory."[47]

But, after all, can Angels really impart comfort? They cannot. They are
but servants and delegates of a Mightier than they. Like all ministers
and messengers, if they can dry a human tear and soothe a human sorrow,
it is by pointing, not to themselves, but to their glorious and
glorified Lord. What was their message now? Was it, "We are come to
supply the place of your Ascended Redeemer--we are henceforth to be your
appointed helpers--the objects of your faith, and hope, and confidence,
in the house of your pilgrimage?" No! The eyes of the disciples are
gazing upwards and heavenwards. The Angels tell them not in anywise to
alter the direction of their thoughts and affections. They are musing
(as in vain they still wistfully look for any relic of the
chariot-cloud) on "_Jesus only_." They are to think of "_Him only_"
still! The Celestial Visitants seem to say, "Ye men of Galilee, _we_
cannot comfort you;--_we_ would prove but poor solaces and compensations
for the Adorable Saviour who has left you. _We_ come not to take His
place--but to speak to you still regarding Him. He has left you! but it
is only for a season; and better than this, although He has left you, He
loves you as much as ever. Even in that distant glory to which He has
sped His way, His heart is unchanged and unchangeable--His name is
'Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.'"

Here then was their first theme of comfort. It was the NAME of _Jesus_.
That "name of their Lord" was still to be their "strong tower!" Oh,
there is something touchingly beautiful about this angelic address. What
a simple but sublime antidote for these stricken Spirits, "THAT SAME
JESUS." "That _same_ Jesus,"--He who laid His infant head on the manger
at Bethlehem--He who walked on the Sea of Tiberias, and hushed its angry
waves--He who spoke comfort to a stricken spirit at the well of Sychar,
and at the gate of Nain--He who, in yonder palm-clad village sleeping in
quiet loveliness at their feet, soothed the pangs of deeply afflicted
hearts, and made death itself yield its prey--He who had first
shed His tears and then His blood over the city He loved--He who
so freely forgave, so meekly suffered, so willingly died! "THAT
SAME JESUS" was still on High! The Brother's form was still there! The
Kinsman-Redeemer's sym