forever."

This, we may say, based on these premises, and excluding all other, is
reasonable counsel. Does not our own apostle Paul confirm it? Does he
not say, if this life be all, this life of vanity under the sun, then
let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die? Yea, we who have turned
aside from this path of present pleasures are of all men most
miserable, if this vain life be all.

And are we to expect poor unaided human wisdom to face these awful
problems of infinite depth without finding the strongest evidence of
its utter incapacity and helplessness? Like a feather in the blast,
our kingly and wise preacher (beyond whom none can ever go) is whirled,
for the time being, from his soberness, and, in sorrow akin to despair,
gives counsel that is in itself revolting to all soberness and wisdom.
Nothing could so powerfully speak the awful chaos of his soul;
and--mark it well--_in that same awful chaos_ would you and I be at any
moment, my reader, if we thought at all, but for one inestimably
precious fact. Black like unto the outer darkness is the storm-cloud
we are looking at, and the wild, despairing, yet sad counsel, to "live
merrily" is in strict harmony with the wild, awful darkness, like the
sea-gull's scream in the tempest.

Let us review a little the path of reasoning that has led our author to
where he is; only we will walk it joyfully in the light of God.

"No man knoweth love or hatred by all that is before him." We have
looked upon a scene where a holy Victim--infinitely holy--bowed His
head under the weight of a judgment that could not be measured. It was
but a little while, and the very heavens could not contain themselves
with delight at His perfect beauty, His perfect obedience; but again,
and yet again, were they opened to express the pleasure of the Highest
in this lowly Man. Now, not only are they closed in silence, but a
horror seems to enwrap all creation. The sun, obscured by no
earth-born cloud, gives out no spark nor ray of light; and in that
solemn darkness every voice is strangely hushed. From nine till noon
the air was filled with revilings and reproaches--all leveled at the
one sinless Sufferer; but now, for three hours, these have been
absolutely silent, till at last one cry of agony breaks the stillness;
and it is from Him who "was oppressed and afflicted, yet opened not His
mouth; was brought as a lamb to the slaughter; and as a sheep before
her shearer is dumb, so opened H