MEDITATION XLV.

ON AWAKING AT MIDNIGHT.

Now the silent night spreads its shadows on all, and calms the uneasy crew, who are locked fast in sleep, except those who are on duty. Never are they less offensive to God or men, than when in slumbers.

In a little while, the busy world shall be awaked to pursue the affairs of life. But the greater part, in respect of spiritual things, are fast asleep, yes, chained among the dead. Hence the apostle says, "Awake, you who sleep, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light."

Amidst the blackest gloom that dwells on midnight with respect to the natural eye, the soul is at no loss to view invisible realities by the eye of her understanding, and to behold her supreme good by the eye of faith. Yes, 'supernatural light' dwells within the soul—even while dense darkness surround the body; and this 'supernatural light' is much more beautiful than the brightest sunshine to the naked eye.

Now, had all been created pure spirits, like the angels, there had been no need for natural light, for the Father of spirits is to them the Fountain of light. And sometimes they have brought such a brightness with them from the throne of glory, (like Moses when he came down from the mount of God,) such a blaze of light spreading round about, as has amazed the astonished spectators.

Thus, neither the natural darkness of the night; nor the thick darkness of sorrow, affliction, and woe; nor the pitchy darkness of death—shall spread a shadow over those who have his presence, diffusing serenest noon in their souls wherever they go. As, on the other hand, the fallen angels, cast out of his favorable presence, are kept in chains of darkness, though allowed to roam over this universe in the noon-day beamings of the natural sun.

Again, a man may enjoy the light of life, and bask himself in the pleasant beams of affluence and peace, while nothing but a dark and stormy night surrounds his soul. As the evening-shadows mantle the world, so they produce a silence and tranquility over all. But the darkness that seizes the soul from an angry or concealed God, awakens the keenest anguish, and pours storms and tempests in all the powers of the mind, which raise this complaint, "You hid your face, and I was troubled."

But what comfort may it yield me, that, though the nights seem long, the darkness thick, the tempests loud, and the thunders terrible—that the Sun is on his way, will shortly rise, and afford eternal day! that I shall walk in the light of his countenance, and in his light see light clearly! Then, and not until then, shall "Life will be brighter than noonday, and darkness will become like morning."

MEDITATION XLVI.

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