(Preached on Easter Day, 1867.)

MATTHEW vi. 26, 28, 29.

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap,
nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye
not much better than they? . . . And why take ye thought for raiment?
Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not,
neither do they spin: and yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in
all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

What has this text to do with Easter-day? Let us think a while.
Life and death; the battle between life and death; life conquered by
death; and death conquered again by life. Those were the mysteries
over which the men of old time thought, often till their hearts were
sad.

They saw that they were alive; and they loved life, and would fain
see good days. They saw, again, that they must die: but would death
conquer life in them? Would they ever live again?

They saw that other things died, or seemed to die, and yet rose and
lived again; and that gave them hope for themselves at times; but
their hopes were very dim, till Christ came, and brought life and
immortality to light.

They saw, I say, that other things died, or seemed to die, and yet
lived again. Light rose out of darkness every morning and lived: