raiment for warmth and ornament. Thus they companionate and exchange services for a few decades of years, and grow dear to each other as the partnership is prolonged. They would never choose to separate. The soul grows to love the dear clay it is joined to, and has no wish to desert it. But man is not in his own power. The dark analyst comes and touches him in the outward parts. By successive strokes on the outward man, visible effects are produced. The body shrinks, decays, grows feeble, and at length, like a tent with its pins loosened, it totters and falls. The soul, perforce, has to leave the fallen ruin, and go whither the laws of the eternal state permit. See this most beautifully delineated in the concluding chapter of Ecclesiastes, where the repulsiveness of the theme is covered by a diction at once beautiful and solemn. The fallen frame, so goodly when animated and active, soon loses its beauty and becomes unsightly, and is therefore, betimes, put away into darkness. The living soul is parted from the dead body, but not without hope of finding its own again, in the manifestation towards which the neck of hope is eagerly bent forward.

Again, in death, there is a separation from earthly possessions. Man has relations to the outward world, especially to the land which he tills for subsistence, and out of which he raises material wealth. Those who are prosperous and successful are under temptation to undue attachment to what they accumulate, a temptation that loses its force when the brevity of life is duly considered. "We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out." 1 Tim. vi. 7. The benefit of property to any individual is confined to the few years of this life, a circumstance which should cool our eagerness after it. Between the cradle and the tomb we may raise a heap to leave to successors, which may either be a boon or a bane. It is a wholesome thing to connect the thought of death with our material prosperity, to balance our minds and keep us to the sober use of things. If we gain we will not set our hearts on our acquisitions, knowing that we must leave them some time, and may soon. If we lose, we will not fret. So long as we have anything, we are richer than we began, for we came with nothing. How much soever we acquire, we must leave it where we made it. Let us not be heart-grown to this world nor hold it tight with our hands. The stern analyzer will part us and our possessions, and not allow us to carry away a single shilling. Happy the poor who have nothing to be separated from; no ships afloat, no landed property, no shares in commercial undertakings! They have little to be parted from. And happy the rich who keep their hearts loose from their large possessions," for these are the things that make men unwilling to die." As there must be such a complete separation, it is wise not to let the heart cleave to our havings and savings. All we have

is only upon a lease, which may soon expire. Again, the painful analysis will part us

From our troubles and our troublers.-It is common to complain of life as heavily taxed. Every man carries a burden through the world, of greater or lesser magnitude, varying in its weight at different stages, and so closely bound to him that there is no casting off. His burden is as part of himself. He must bear it until the hour of analysis comes. Death ends the troubles of this life. It gives immunity from disease. The dead body is subject to no ailments, and feels no pain. The summer's heat and the winter's cold make no difference to it. The low-laid head aches no more. The sealed eyes shed forth no bitter tears. No fever rages in the veins. No rheums lodge in the joints. Analysis cures all. Then if we have weaknesses of character (and who has not?) death sets us beyond temptation. The eye beholds no vanity. Appetite and E passion have become null. Beyond this point Satan cannot tempt, nor the world allure, nor flesh ensnare, nor sudden casuality surI prize us. Our troubles are over.

Then what about our troublers? Analysis parts us and them. In principle and character we were apart from them, and in that respect needed no severance. The social compact held us to them, and gave them power to annoy us. We did business with them, worked alongside of them, met them on the street or in the market, or perhaps lived under the same roof. And they troubled us by demonstrative antagonism to our religious character. By dissolving the social bond, death destroys their power of grieving us. We are hidden in the grave from the strife of tongues. "There the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest." Job iii. 17. When the troublers go thither, they cease troubling; and when the troubled go, they cease to be troubled. More agreeable ties are severed as well. There is a separation

From friends and kindred.-If you have a friend whom you love as your own soul, as David loved Jonathan, the intensity of your love renders you liable to more poignant grief. Your friend is mortal, and you may have to see him laid in the narrow house, or you may be summoned hence and leave him to weep over you. Closer bonds than those of friendship are sundered. It is seldom death has a victim out of all blood relationship. Often those are taken who can worst be spared. We can almost always show some reason why a given individual should not die. The cradle should not be robbed because it does violence to the mother. The eldest son should not be draughted off-he is the heir and hope of the house. Lazarus should not die, because his orphan sisters, Martha and Mary, require him to fill the place of his deceased father. The youth verging on manhood should not be cut off-he is just closing his apprenticeship, full of hope and purpose, and has a widowed

mother to support. The father of a young family should be spared to win bread for his wife and little ones, till they can be selfsustaining. If death must take some, why not take the old, who have outlived their usefulness, and have little enjoyment and small interest in living? Should not the father die before the son? Of all separations, the most painful is that between husband and wife. Other ties are simple, and can be easily slipped. A single knot, once round and fastened, is not so difficult to undo. The marriageknot is like no bond but itself. It is involuted, complicated, interlaced and intricate, the strings oft crossing and doubling, and their ends at length buried deep within. Nothing external or accidental can disturb such a heart union. It survives misfortune, disfigurement, disease. It grows stronger with age. What God hath joined nothing but death can put asunder; which is the same as saying that God only can dissolve the union, for death is nothing but his will taking effect. This hard lesson let us strive to learn, to endure analysis without saying, "What doest thou ?" When our households are invaded, or our circle of acquaintanceship is broken in upon, then must we bow our heads in patient assent, and tutor our hearts into submission. The last separation which we name is that which separates us―

From our beloved Church Associations.-In some instances, we have to let go those with whom we have held fellowship for more than half a life-time. It takes deep hold of us to part with those who have been useful to us, who have edified us with instruction, counselled us, cheered us, set us good examples, and given us seasonable reproof and kindly warning. We would rejoice to see such men live always. Men, of superior character, with elements of usefulness about them, corner-stones in the Church, who can sustain a prayer meeting, kindle the fire in a lovefeast, lead a class, preach a sermon, superintend a Sabbath-school, or give good counsel in committee,-ob, that such men might live! We grieve to see their heads turn grey, or to observe their shoulders stoop, or their gait falter, or their voice tremble. There is no help for it. Time tells upon all men. The impartial analyst leaves none untouched. If it be a penalty to die, the best that live are not so holy as to escape it by the merit of personal goodness. If it be a privilege, as no doubt it is, they are best entitled to it. The holiest office man ever held is no shield against the shafts of the unerring archer. "Your fathers, where are they? and the prophets, do they live for ever?" Zech. i. 5. Aaron and his priestly sons were obliged to disrobe and leave ephod and girdle and embroidered coat to successors. The altar could not protect them. Melchizedec's immortal priesthood was but fiction and figure, except as Jesus Christ has verified it. Gospel times brought in new offices, but made no man death-proof. The

Founders of sects and commu

apostles all died. Preachers die. nities-Wesley, Clowes, and Bourne-die. Smaller men cannot look for immunity from the stroke to which the greatest succumb. When the cedar falls, the fir tree may prepare for its doom. Wisdom dictates that we should make the best we can of instructors and leaders who are liable to die, and take good heed to the teaching voice before it is hushed into long silence. And, furthermore, let each one think of, and prepare for, his own dissolution. Not only must we make up our minds to the loss we sustain, when those who were pillars are removed; we must likewise count upon and forecast our own decease.

After this analysis, what succeeds?-a separate state, about which our knowledge is limited and scant. The soul, for aught we know to the contrary, lives uncovered in an "out-of-the-body" condition till the end commences. Then it comes to claim the fabric which it formerly inhabited, reconstructed in beauty and glory. So the separation, though long, is not final. The severance from our godly kindred and pew-fellows will be short. After a few swift turns of the wheel of time, they will follow us, or we them, to hades or to heaven, if that be any different.

Succeeding this, at some remote period known to no man, will be the final convocation. An assembled world will face the white throne of judgment, with a view to the manifestation of their character. That vast, promiscuous crowd will undergo examination. Bold evil-doers and humble saints will be there, and their character, well known before, will be affirmed and declared. Another class, somewhat considerable, whose characters were doubtful, will come to the light and face the proof, and be known to be bad or good accordingly. The Judge will determine all with accuracy and ease. “And he shall separate them one from another as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats." He will attach to himself all that are good and holy. The rest will be subject to banishment from his presence world without end.

T. G.

ART. V.-THE POSITION AND PROSPECTS OF THE AMERICAN UNION.

A UNIVERSAL instinct impels us to look wistfully into the

future. We long to forecast the horoscope of nations as well as of men. And if these nations possess conspicuous advantages or exert important influence on the destiny of mankind, the study may be as instructive as it is interesting.

We are not without data of sublimest augury concerning the future of the American Union. The natural resources of the country

are of exhaustless extent and of unparalleled richness. Its position is the most favourable in the world for national development. Stretching through twenty-five degrees of latitude from the fortyninth to the twenty-sixth parallel, if transferred to the Eastern continent, it would reach from Germany to the middle of the Sahara, occupying the whole basin of the Mediterranean. Although the isothermal lines bend low down on the American sea-coast, yet in the interior they sweep upward again, making the climate mild and salubrious. Its northern regions lie under the constellation of the Great Bear, while the inhabitants of its low latitudes behold in their sky the sacred sign of the Southern Cross. From the Great Falls of the Missouri one may sail, without a single break of navigation, to the mouth of the Mississippi, a distance of over three thousand miles; as far as from London to the Gulf of Guinea or to Samarcand. This vast stream is supplemented by twenty-three thousand miles of internal navigation of its great affluents, penetrating the very heart of the country on either side.

The

One sailing down this great life artery of the continent will pass through all the varieties of the climate to be found in the Old World, from St. Petersburgh to Egyptian Thebes. He will pass from the giant firs of its upper waters, through deciduous forests of beech and maple, to the waving green and gold of the boundless wheat fields, and the countless flocks and herds of Minnesota and Illinois. He will glide past the spreading orchards of Missouri and Kentucky, glowing with golden fruit like that of the Hesperides. The broad leaves of the tobacco plant spread their rank luxuriance in Kentucky and Tennesse, and the snowy bolls of the cotton shrub whiten the fields of Arkansas and Mississippi. fragrant blossoms of the magnolia scent the breeze, and the glossy leaves of the laurel and myrtle, of the plantain and palmetto, delight the eye. In the lowlands of Louisiana stretch in endless vista the canebrakes of the sugar plantation. The parasitic mosses of the Southern cypress wave like funereal plumes through the sultry air. The houses of the planters are embowered amid orange groves, and flowers of unimaginable loveliness and wildest luxuriance breathe perfume on the charmed atmosphere. Amid the fever-breeding swamps near the mouth of the mighty stream spread fertile ricefields, through the neighbouring marshes wade tall birds of gaudy plumage, and on the low sandbars of the coast stalks the scarlet flamingo, gaunt and ghostly, in the lurid Southern sunset.

No other country in the world can boast such an extent of fertile soil, such a range of climate, and such a variety of products. They must for ever insure an internal traffic as important as that between Great Britain and the Levant.

Nor are the other great elements of national prosperity less lavishly bestowed. Along the Atlantic seaboard numerous ex