idding to soar away, and leave behind us what most we prize.

It tells us, too, _the utter mysteriousness of many of the divine
dispensations_.

"LAZARUS IS DEAD!" What! He, the head, and support, and stay of two
helpless females? The joy and solace of a common orphanhood,--a brother
evidently made and born for their adversities? What! Lazarus, whom Jesus
tenderly loved? How much, even to his Lord, will be buried in that early
grave! We may well expect, if there be one homestead in all Palestine
guarded by the overshadowing wings of angels to debar the entrance of
death, whose inmates may pillow their heads night after night in the
confident assurance of immunity from trial, it must surely be that loved
resort--that "Arbour in His Hill Difficulty," where the God-man
delighted oft to pause and refresh His wearied body and aching mind.
Will Omnipotence not have set its mark, as of old, on the door-posts and
lintels of that consecrated dwelling, so that the destroyer, in going
his rounds elsewhere, may pass by it unscathed? How, too, can the
infant Church spare him? The aged Simeon or Anna we dare not wish to
detain. Burdened with years and infirmities, after having got a glimpse
of their Lord and Saviour, let them depart in peace, and receive their
crowns. These decayed trees in the forest--those to whom old age on
earth is a burden--let them bow to the axe, and be transplanted to a
nobler clime. But one in the vigour of life--one so beautifully
combining natural amiability with Christian love--one who was
pre-eminently the _friend_ of Jesus, and that _word_ profoundly
suggestive of all that was lovely in a disciple's character. Death may
visit other homes in that sequestered village, and spread desolation in
other hearts, but surely the Church's Lord will not suffer one of its
pillars so prematurely to fall!

And yet it is even so! The mysterious summons has come!--the most
honoured home on earth has been rudely rifled!--the most loving of
hearts have been cruelly torn; and inscrutable is the dealing, for
"_Lazarus is dead_!"

"He, the young and strong, who cherish'd
Noble longings for the strife,
By the roadside fell, and perish'd
On the threshold march of life."

And worse, too, than all, "the Lord is absent." Why is Omniscience
tarrying elsewhere, when His presence and power are above all needed at
the house of His friend?

The disconsolate sisters, in wondering amazement, repeat over an