desired the prayers of God's people; when my little son died the heaviest affliction of my life-I was not a Christian, though I deeply felt the need of grace and comfort. But when I walked among the graves of those thousands, who at Gettysburg had been swept into eternity, I resolved to give my heart to God; and since then I do love Jesus!" Oh! there is balm for the troubled hearts which bleed to-day, in such testimony as this, even though we know not the details of his experience. The nation mourns, yet rejoices. Over our whole domain is heard the dirge; yet following close upon its strains, rises the Easter anthem, as we bid farewell for earth to one who will take his place among the most distinguished in the annals of the world!

Let

My countrymen, let us rise to-day to a more distinct conviction that this nation is under the direction of God. Thousands of martyrs have been sacrificed at its altar; and at last, when we thonght no more would be demanded, we have been obliged to yield the most illustrious of them all. In this fresh baptism of blood, let us consecrate it to Jehovah, and hold ourselves in readiness for any demands such consecration may make of us. us feel that for this brief life we can make no worthier or more valuable contribution to our race, than our resolute, sincere devotion to the interests of right, liberty, and religion. Nay! there can be no more worthy or valuable treasure laid up for the life eternal! The life eternal! how near to its confines do we every moment stand! God grant that all of us may be prepared, through his grace, when the summons shall come to us, to leave forever our stations and our work on earth, for the service and the bliss of heaven!

SERMON XI I.

REV. ELBERT S. PORTER, D. D.

"What aileth the people that they weep?"-1. SAMUEL xi. 5.

A GREAT indignity had been offered Israel by Nahash, the cruel Ammonite. When the people heard of it they wept, and Saul, beholding the public sorrow, exclaimed: "What aileth the people that they weep?" When told the cause thereof the Spirit of God came upon Saul, and his anger was kindled greatly.

High crimes always awaken corresponding indignation. For there is that in human nature which arises into flame when touched by the presence of a flagrant wrong. The instinct of justice which has been implanted in the human soul by the Author of all justice, is quick in its spontaneous protest against every form of palpable outrage. A woe is denounced against them that call good evil, or evil good, for when men lose ability or willingness to distinguish between right and wrong, to approve the one and condemn the other, then society is fatally wounded and vice becomes the equal of virtue; and it is the Spirit of a just God which kindles a holy indignation in the human mind against crimes, whether committed against nations, communities, classes, or individuals. It may be

taken for a maxim that a righteous abhorrence of malignant and criminal passion is an essential element of popular virtue. Where this is wanting, a nation has parted from all integrity of feeling. It has fallen into the depths of moral putridity, and rots in the infectious atmosphere generated by abominable atheism. So long as men retain God in their thoughts and reverence him as the Supreme Lawgiver, they must cry out against common offences and extraordinary crimes. They forfeit their noblest instincts when they come short of this duty.

It is not strange, therefore, that the assassination of the President of the United States should awaken feelings of horror, and evoke the indignation of every right-minded man. That it has done this, admits of no question. Never, since its beginning, until yesterday, has this nation felt, so profoundly as it does now, the anguish of a sacred indignation, because of a monstrous, and, in our country, hitherto unknown crime. This indignation is none the less because it is, for a moment, stifled by tears and sobs of genuine sorrow. Need we ask, "Why do the people weep?"

Whatever be the reason, one thing is certain, that there has been no attempt to feign or affect sorrow. It has been as spontaneous as light, and as universal too. There was no waiting on yesterday for proclamations, or resolutions, or any of the customary methods of forming and shaping opinions. Men were speechless with grief, and pallid in the presence of a great calamity. Business there could be none, for the people had no heart to engage in traffic. They looked into each other's faces and conversed only through their falling tears. Funeral woe hung over our cities. An appalling blow had paralyzed the popular heart, and it communed in bitterness with its own woe, waiting to be comforted. Undoubtedly the manner of

the President's death gave particular character and shape to the all-pervasive grief, and yet we may ask whether, if he had been allowed to end his useful life upon a quiet bed in this period of our national conflict, there would not have been an unusual lamentation over his death.

He is done with earth. His record is made; his deeds have passed into history, and he will be judged like other men who have occupied conspicuous public positions. It is too soon yet to undertake to estimate his services or to measure his influence. This generation must first pass away before a just and impartial criticism shall assign him his true place among the illustrious benefactors of mankind.

When on the 4th of March, 1861, Abraham Lincoln became President of these United States, he ceased to. be the chieftain of a political party. Perils, great, vast, and immediate, were around him. He could no longer give up to party what he owed to the whole country. From that moment it became his supreme care to do what seemed right and necessary for the preservation of the Union and the maintenance of its just governmental authority. In the excitement and confusion of the times it was not in the power of any. fallible man to adopt measures exactly suited to please the prej udices, the passions, and the interests of all. During our most tranquil periods the high office of President has been compassed with immense difficulties. If its dignity is great its responsibilities are far greater. In a republic like this, where opinions rave and rage like tempests over the deep, our chief magistrates, even in the more quiet times of the republic, have never found themselves free from grave embarrassments, or threatening dangers. But the difficulties of administration experienced by his predecessors were as nothing compared with those which beset Mr. Lincoln.

Secession, long plotted, thoroughly organized and defiant, had already brought the national government to the verge of ruin. Men were everywhere asking whereunto will all this infernal mischief come? The popular mind was without definite convictions concerning what ought to be done. The leaders of public opinion, following their themes, their abstractions, and their low ambitions, held few doctrines in common. The President was then, perforce, obliged to take counsel only from his oath of office, and to go forward, trusting in God and the rectitude of the cause he had been elected to defend.

Looking back over the four years of his official history, it is possible to detect some mistakes; but these mistakes. will be very differently defined and described by opposite schools of opinion. The criticisms to which his administration of affairs has been subjected by avowed political dissenters, have not, perhaps, in the main, been any more ungenerous or embarrassing than those emanating from adverse faction, in the party claiming to be his particular supporters. I allude to this only to remind you of the immense difficulties which from the first have ever beset his public life. Yet he seemed to be oblivious of parties and of party factions alike. He inquired for the men who were willing to stand by their country, and them he called into civil and into military service. He had one thing to do-to save the country-to preserve the Union -and who will or can doubt that he gave himself wholly and entirely to that work? If he had been able to foresee all things, he might have avoided some alleged errors. Had he been possessed of divine intelligence, he would have timed and adjusted measures with a skill forbidding criticism. Yet after all allowance is made for any real or imaginary imperfection of official judgment, it must still be confessed that the President who, under God, con