appear in John's writings they are used as figures of spiritual ideas; they suggest the element in which the evil life proceeds and the element in which God is said to dwell. According to John's usage, light is not that which enters the bodily eye, but symbolises knowledge, wisdom, truth, holiness. Darkness, its antithesis, he likewise uses symbolically: for example, even when he records the going forth of the betrayer from the upper room, and adds, "It was night," we feel that his thought is moving in a symbolic region, Darkness is not the mere absence or regation of light; it is a positive element, antagonistic to light, and is synonymous with ignorance, hatred, falsehood, unrighteousness, sin and misery, implying that man has lost God. Now the "life" that was in the eternal Word "was the light of men. The statement seems intended to cover the whole period of human history. It is not that the life "became" the light of men at some definite time, fixed by chronology--as for example at the incarnation, or the commencement of Christ's public ministry, when the people who sat in darkness saw great light, and to them who sat in the region and shadow of death light sprang up; the life "was the light of men from the beginning. During that brief period of innocence, when the ideal and the actual were one and the same, it was so; and so also, though in a different mode, down the darkest ages that followed: as matter of fact, the life that was primarily in the Word, and that was divinely implanted in human souls, was the world's light. We must not represent the case to ourselves in a mere mechanical way, but vitally. We are not to find an analogy in the shining of the sun upon the moon and planets, making them gleam like burnished metal. It was not that the life emitted rays which beat upon men's eyes from without; but as when a lantern is lighted, the life entering men's souls kindled them, and shone within, and gave light (streaming from within outwardly) to all that were around. When natural life is quenched, what a blank is occasioned; how the lustre of the eye is dimmed; how night and darkness settle down upon the countenance! Rising from the natural to the spiritual, it is life that is the light of men-the light in which they see and in which they shine. To the soul that lies in death the glories of God are no more than the stars of heaven to the blind. The Word is the light-giver in that He is the life-giver. In perfect keeping with this mode of viewing the case is the saying of Jesus, "If a man walk in the night he stumbleth, because there is no light in him." The light is inward or it is nothing to us, either for our own walking, or for help to others. Milton has embodied the truth in these lines: "He that has light within his own clear breast, "The light shineth in darkness." Note how "darkness" (symbolising evil) is named, and its existence taken for granted, without being explained or in any way accounted for; not even is a single hint thrown out to mitigate the awful oppressiveness of its mystery. Were the question presented to us as an abstract one, we should pronounce darkness impossible in a universe created by a holy and almighty Being. But as matter of fact it exists. Is it eternal? Or had it a beginning? If so, when and how? Is it utterly causeless? Is it the result of necessity ? and is the sinner as little to blame for his sin as the apple is for obeying the law of gravitation and falling to the ground? Is it included among the "all things" that were made by the creative Word? Is He its author, and is the will of God its ground? Is evil not really evil, but only good in the bud? Is it the stumbling of the child in learning to walk-his stammering in learning to speak? Is the fall (as has been argued) "the most fortunate and greatest event in history," being the starting-point of man's moral freedom? Is it better to have become a sinner than to dwell in the bowers of Paradise? Is sin the necessary pathway to the highest ideal of perfection and felicity? Has God introduced evil in order that He may work out the highest purpose, and is He (so to speak) playing both sides of the game, the right hand against the left? Or does it spring from imperfection in Him? If it be a contradiction of His will, how could it originate, unless He is less than almighty? The problem to which these and other questions belong-the origin of evil-is one that has fascinated, perplexed, bewildered, tortured, all who have ever attempted to deal with it; they could neither let it alone, nor mitigate by a single shade the blackness of its darkness; the attempt to solve it has proved as vain as the search for the philosopher's stone or the elixir vitæ ; every solution yet proposed contains within it the very mystery which it attempts to clear up. The Evangelist has the opportunity of giving some relief to the mind by throwing light upon the mystery; indeed it appears as if the line of thought he is pursuing must necessitate some utterance on the subject, it seems to lie so directly in his way. Yet he says not a single word. There is the "darkness". -unaccounted for, unexplained, a dread and undeniable fact of almost infinite magnitude. Is not his silence significant? "The light shineth" in this darkness. This statement does not refer merely to the personal ministry of Jesus and the promulgation of His Gospel; we are not to think merely of the rising up of a great Teacher who came to instruct an ignorant and benighted world; the statement sweeps over all time, and embraces all the illuminating activities of the Word, both before and since the incarnation. It is not merely that the light shone for a period of three or three and thirty years; but from the beginning of human history it has gone on shining, and shineth still. This world has never been given over to the unchallenged reign of darkness; there have always been souls wherein the life has been kindled, and through whom it has shot its rays into the world's gloom-God's candles lighted and placed according to His own will. In this respect the Father of lights has never been left without witness. Have light and darkness, then, entered into coalition? Do they form a mixture, neither clear nor dark, like our twilight? Is there a blending of the two (in our modern civilisation, for example) as when two chemical elements combine to form a new substance? Does the darkness, when penetrated or permeated by the light, take in something of its nature, and become in a measure assimilated to it ? No; the darkness still retains its own qualities; continues to be darkness; is essentially the same to the last; does not appropriate the light, but holds it outside, as something which it cannot understand.* As it was when the Holy One dwelt among men, so it has ever been; the light of a heavenly and beautiful life has shone before men's eyes, and they have not so much as seen it. The light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehendeth it not; so far from comprehending, not seldom has the darkness formally denied it, as when the Pharisees rejected the Christ of God, and then asked, "Are we blind also ?" LAYING UP TREASURES. "You will certainly be obliged to have a new cloak this winter, auntie, they wear them so much longer," said Edith Morton, as Aunt Fanny was putting on the old one for the first time that season, to go out on a frosty autumn evening. "Can't afford it yet," replied Aunt Fanny, cheerfully. "Too many children will have to go barefoot. I shall piece it down, and cover it with trimming, so it will be quite respectable for another winter." Edith laughed merrily. That cloak had been a standing joke in the family for the last six years. It had a history; a long and interesting one, that had woven its bright threads into the dark life experiences of more than one unfortunate and needy sufferer. We cannot tell you all about it here, but will give an outline, and then fill it up as the story advances. * Aunt Fanny had once been extravagant. She had indulged herself at last in a long-coveted luxury -a fine heavy Paisley shawl, for which she paid the sum of seven pounds. Certainly, not a very exorbitant price for an article that was to do permanent service for a whole lifetime. Miss Fanny was in easy circumstances, so far as financial matters were concerned. She had an income of some six hundred a year, but she had always been very sparing of indulgences for herself. She had too many poor relatives to assist, too many needy neighbours and friends, so many charitable projects in hand, that before she thought of it her yearly income was all gone, and she was obliged to draw upon the principal for supplies. Her wants were very simple. She had no expensive habits. She kept but one servant, The scope forbids the rendering that the darkness did not hem in the light, did not suppress it, did not eclipse or quench it, though such a rendering may be verbally admissible. there was nothing to show for it," Edith had said. and there were only herself and an orphan niece who lived with her for company to take care of, yet it But Aunt Fanny replied, "Not always took a great deal of money so, darling. It is treasure laid up for her to make the ends of the where moth and rust do not corrupt, year meet. How she ever came to and where thieves cannot break buy that shawl was a mystery to all through and steal. Banks may fail, of us. She must have been under stocks lose their value, but the some temporary hallucination at money spent in charity is deposited that moment- a spell of greater in the Bank of Heaven, the only duration than usual was upon her, investment that can give unfailing which her habitual thoughtfulness securities." failed to break. The package was sent home with a long list of other purchases of such a character as had often been deposited at her door. There were two or three webs of cotton, big rolls of flannel, dress goods, blankets, shawls, stockings of all sizes, and all the thousand- and -one things that poor people are always wanting. She wore it once, yes, twice, but her conscience was too tender. She I could not wear a shawl that cost seven pounds, when there were so many poor people without coal or food-perishing for the want of a few shillings that she could supply. So she carried the shawl back to the shop-keeper, and induced him to take it back, after a liberal deduction on her part from the price she had paid. She bought the cloth for a new cloak, procured a pattern, cut and made it herself, and when done it cost her just two pounds. This cloak had performed substantial service for six years, by various little makeshifts of her own in altering and re-trimming. The balance of the money was at once expended for innumerable charitable projects; and who shall paint the glowing visions of joy and gladness that lighted up the hearts and abodes of penury and wantthose dark and gloomy homes where the cheering sun's rays never look, and where only at intervals "the Sun of Righteousness arises with healing in his wings!" "The money was all gone, and Edith looked doubtful. Aunt Fanny had been giving away in all directions for more than thirty years, but what return had she ever secured? Miss Fanny Whiting was regarded as a somewhat eccentric person in the fashionable circle in which she had once been accustomed to move, but her peculiarities were of an innocent nature, although her rich friends sometimes thought her troublesome, since-as her heart was always full of charitable thoughts and intents-she was very apt to talk about them, and try to enlist their sympathies to an extent not always to be admitted. She had a great passion for hunting about dark alleys, and climbing rickety attic stairs at all sorts of seasonable and unseasonable hours. She was often found hunting up troops of dirty, neglected children, and she could not rest satisfied till they were placed in schools, or otherwise provided for. She always had on her note-book a long list of poor widows with sick children, who needed a great deal of help. She was on intimate terms of acquaintance with the city missionary and all the Bible women in her neighbourhood, and in one way or another was sure to find out all the sick strangers that lay in out-of-theway upper rooms at hotels and boarding-houses, who seem to have committed a great mistake in getting ill in such places. There were a number of children here and there that she was educat ing at her own expense, besides unalloyed pleasure to be the almoner several families whose meagre in- of bounty. She knew by a blessed, comes she supplemented with her oft-repeated experience, that the own bounties. One girl, who had words of ancient wisdom were true, a somewhat remarkable voice, she " It is more blessed to give than to helped to lessons under a first-class receive." master. A little boy, who met with Miss Fanny had never married, an accident that made him a cripple but she took care of a larger family for life, she had taken under her than most mothers. In her case own special patronage to provide the words of the prophet had a for till he could take care of himself. deep significance: "More are the He had a talent for painting, and children of the desolate than the the teachers thought that it might children of the married wife." There be developed into artistic ability by was a bit of romance connected which he could earn his support. with her early life that changed the She had a great many relatives, whole current of her after-thoughts. too, who lived in and out of the She was the only daughter of a city, and found it very convenient wealthy broker, and in her youth to pass a few weeks and perhaps was very gay and beautiful. She months in her pleasant home. And was an acknowledged belle in when they went away they were society, and while at a brilliant very apt to suggest a pressing need party met and became acquainted of twenty pounds or so to keep them with a young man who was at that from suffering. She lent, of course; time a guest in the city. He was and they, knowing the abundance fascinated with her charms, asked of her resources, never thought it for her hand in marriage, and was necessary to pay, and so it came not refused. But before the event about that she had after all quite a occurred there were strange delarge family to support. velopments. He was arrested for a crime committed in a distant city, was tried, convicted, and sentenced Miss Fanny was struck dumb with astonishment, and fainted beneath the stroke. She had believed him to be as he seemed, noble and true, and gave to him in good faith a woman's best gift to man Besides these minor charities, she was often importuned for a destitute Church, or for some benevolent to be executed. institution just on the brink of ruin. No subscription - paper was ever known to pass her by, and we might say that no one asked in vain. Her gifts were not confined to her own neighbourhood alone. She never forgot the nations that sit in darkness on the other side of the globe. She took a lively interest in all of the affairs of India, Burmah, China, Japan, and the Sandwich Islands. She had a kind of monomania for benevolence, that seemed to increase with her maturer years. She did not give for gratitude, or to have her name published in the papers, but because she loved to give. She took a far greater satisfaction in doing for others, than she could possibly derive from any selfindulgence of luxuries. It pained her to receive charities, but gave her the heart's truest affections. The shock to her sensitive nature was terrific. She fell violently ill, and for months her life was in jeopardy. But at last she came forth from the fiery ordeal fitted for a new mission to the suffering and the needy. She was dead to the old life of gaiety and dissipation, but there was a resurrection to a new life that had been rich in faith and good works. To suffering everywhere she was drawn by a new tie. She spent the whole of her paternal inheritance in relieving the wants of the destitute and afflicted. She was saved |