mented. What a different thing religion will seem to many in another world. Here they connect it only with austerity, self-denial, weeping; all seems cold and repulsive to them. How will it seem when the beauty of the Lord our God is upon us, when every form and every face is angelic - nay, more than this like Christ, for "we shall be like him;” — when our dwelling-place is the metropolis of suns and stars, where the God of creation has lavished the exceeding riches of his power and skill; "where angels walk and seraphs are the warders;" where we shall have music, and eloquence, and genius, and landscapes, and travels, and society, and friendships, and great congregations, and homes, and friends restored to each other; and the walls, and foundations, and gates, and pavements of our place of habitation shall be of prodigal affluence, but forgotten by us in the incomparable joys of the heart and mind? Is this the Christian's heaven? the lost sinner, the devotee of fashion, the voluptuous man, will say; have Christians gained all this by their religion? Their happiness, in full tide, is just beginning, for eternity, and ours is ended. Then they will lie down in sorrow; but they were forewarned of this, and were assured that godliness has "the promise of this life and of that which is to come."

And yet the Saviour himself complained that while he tried to make men feel that religion was something cheerful, and fitted to make them perfectly happy, he was repulsed by them, as much as when he warned them of the consequences of sin. “Whereunto," he says " shall I liken this generation?" For the burden of John's mission was repentance and reformation; and he enforced it by his own austere life; but this repulsed them, when the excitement of novelty was over, and they said, 'He hath a devil; ' he is so peculiar, such a bigot, frowning upon every worldly pleasure, denouncing us with such vehemence, and living in such a supernatural way, that he must be possessed. The Son of man came eating and drinking, that is, like other people; he began his public ministry at a wedding, and the first thing which he did was to create the means of a festive entertainment. Did he suit the tastes and wishes of men any better? "And they said, Behold a man gluttonous, and a wine bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners. But wisdom is justified of her children." Every one who is truly wise will appreciate the wisdom of his course in trying to conciliate men by being cheerful and kind, though, alas! to no purpose. But let the disposition of Christ, as presented to us in this narrative, convince every one that the nature of religion is cheerful, and intended to make men happy; that the path of the just is like the shining light; and that a happy Christian life, with heaven at the end of it, is better than a life of sin with hell for its reward. If you will begin a religious life, if you will make Christ your friend, and be a friend to him, he will surprise you with the blessings of goodness, and with his power to make you happier, infinitely happier, even in this life, than the world can ever do.

See that bright and cheerful face of the ruler of the feast, at the head of the table, after he has tasted Christ's wine. He beckons to the bridegroom, and compliments him upon his affluent, generous conduct to his guests. Thus many a friend of yours gets praise from you, and gratitude, for goodness and kindness which are Christ's doings. O that you could see his hand and his heart in all that makes your life happy, and be persuaded that he is the best of friends, and that to be a friend of his is the best relation and character which you can sustain.

II. THE SAVIOUR SHOULD BE A SPECIALLY INVITED

GUEST AT EVERY WEDDING.

In the first place, he is willing to come and to be wherever his friends are. He is with them in prison, and poverty, and sickness, and in the valley of death, by his special presence; and will he not rejoice with them that do rejoice, as well as weep with them that weep? Yes; for, In the second place, he has testified his great interest in marriage by beginning his public ministry at a wedding. It was not a royal wedding. It was not even in Jerusalem. The place is not mentioned in the Old Testament; for Kanah was in the tribe of Asher; but this Cana, in Zebulon. It was the Saviour's interest in marriage, as relating to the welfare and happiness of the whole human family, that brought him to that wedding. He is that Creator, whose first miracle, in the beginning of the old world, was the creation of a companion for man; and now, as he brings in the new creation, his first miracle is at a marriage. How can we forget and neglect him in this transaction? If we ever need the Saviour's blessing and love, we need it, and it is specially precious, in that transaction which, more than any other, affects the whole life.

But, perhaps, when this great event of our lives was taking place, some of us forgot the Saviour. We made a careful scrutiny as to the guests whom we ought to invite, or whom we thought that we should gratify with an invitation; and we were extremely careful to give no offence by any neglect or slight, knowing how keenly such a thing at such a time is felt. But, of all our friends, there was one whom, perhaps, after all, we neglected; and he was the very best friend we had. Perhaps he had more to do with the acquaintance and love which led to our marriage than any other; he took pleasure in the progress of events, and brought them to their consummation; and when the happy day came, and every friend, who had a claim, was present, and all was bright and joyous, he was neglected, and was not so much as thought of as one of the guests.

And yet it might truly have been said to those guests, as John the Baptist said of Christ, "There standeth one among you whom ye know not." Christ was there, an unwelcomed, unthought-of spectator. He looked upon the company, the bridegroom, and the bride; and may he not have said to himself, They do not know that I loved them before they loved each other; loved them, and gave myself for them; and that all they enjoy is the fruit of my love and sufferings for them. How much they need my friendship. Once, and but a little while since, they were utter strangers to each other. This union is earthly; it breaks asunder at the touch of death; could they but love me, were they my friends, they would have in me a security to their present bliss, and heaven to crown them at the end.

Months and years have rolled away, and how has it fared with us, in this relation? Some of you had Christ for an invited guest on the occasion of your marriage; and if you have since, consistently with this, acknowledged him in all your ways, he has blessed you, making you happy in your union, smoothing those little asperities which happen to all, and which, sometimes, grow to alienation and bitter In times of affliction he has rewarded you,