Precious as is this hope and confidence at all times, specially so is it, mourners in Zion! in your seasons of sorrow. When human refuges fail, and human friendships wither, and human props give way, how sustaining to have this "anchor of the soul sure and steadfast"--union with a living Lord on earth, and the joyful hope of endless and uninterrupted union and communion with Him in glory! Are you even now enjoying, through your tears, this blessed persuasion, and exulting in this blessed creed? Do you know the secret of that twofold solace, "the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings?"--the "fellowship of His sufferings" telling of His sympathy with your sorrows below;--the "power of His resurrection" assuring you of the glorious gift of everlasting life in a world where sorrow dare not enter. Rest not satisfied with a mere outward creed and confession that "Jesus is the Saviour." Let yours be the nobler _formula_ of an appropriating faith--"He is my Saviour; He loved ME, and gave Himself for ME." Let it not be with you a salvation _possible_, but a salvation _found_; so that, with a tried apostle, you can rise above the surges of deepening tribulation as you glory in the conviction, "I _know_ in whom I _have_ believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him." Sad, indeed, for those who, when "deep calleth unto deep," have no such "strong consolation" to enable them to ride out the storm; who, when sorrow and bereavement overtake them--the lowering shadows of the dark and cloudy day--have still to grope after an _unknown Christ_; and, amid the hollowness of earthly and counterfeit comforts, have to seek, for the first time, the _only_ true One. Oh! if our hour of trial has not yet come, let us be prepared for it--for come it will. Let us seek to have our vessels moored _now_ to the Rock of Ages, that when the tempest arises--when the floods beat, and the winds blow, and the wrecks of earthly joy are seen strewing the waters--we may triumphantly utter the challenge, "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?" "Say, ye who tempt The sea of life, by summer gales impell'd, Have ye this anchor? Sure a time will come For storms to try you, and strong blasts to rend Your painted sails, and shred your gold like chaff O'er the wild wave. And what a wreck is man, If sorrow find him unsustain'd by God!" X. THE MASTER. Martha can withhold no longer from her sister the joyful tidings which she has been the first to hear. With fleet foot she hastens back to the house with the announcement, "The Master is come, and calleth for thee." Mary hears, but makes no comment. Wrapt in the silence of her own meditative grief, "when she heard that, she arose quickly and came unto Him." "To her all earth could render nothing back Like that pale changeless brow. Calmly she stood As marble statue.