the wing for the invisible world; which do you deem the nobler object of the two?

Need I remind you on which of the two classes of objects the heart of God is set? That little child in prayer is an object of interest to angelic eyes. That lowly man is on his way to an unfading crown. That humble agent of mercy is accompanied by more than angels, by the Holy Spirit himself. That unpretending house of prayer is the house of God-an earthly palace of the King of kings-occupies a distinguished place in the map of the Divine dominionsstands in close relation to the heavenly world-often have its worshippers to exclaim (as they enjoy times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord), "Lord, what are we that thou shouldst thus magnify us, thus set thine heart upon us!" And then, that departing saint-do you ask, what is he compared with the material heavens, the moon and the stars which God hath created? The Word of God itself replies that those visible heavens are too limited for his rangethat that sun itself is but an emblem of the glory which awaits him—that one reason why it has been lighted up is to give him an idea of that glory; for, when the fires of that sun shall have burnt out, he, saith Christ, "shall shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of my Father for ever."

Ask not, then, for a sphere adapted to your activity; complain not of the want of objects worthy of your regards. That sphere lies immediately around you; those objects throng and press you on every side. Withdrawing your attention from the tinsel and the glare of outward show, and concentrating your regards on that which constitutes the man, you will find in the work of his recovery to God claims on your tenderest sympathies, and scope for enterprise so vast, that the greatest powers, and the noblest ambition, will never be able to fill it. Parents, pretend not to piety if you are setting your heart on any thing for your children more intently than you are to behold them the sons and daughters of the Lord God Almighty. Abandon your claims to be

considered pious professors of religion if any knowledge is greater in your estimation, either for yourselves or for others, than the knowledge which maketh wise unto salvation-any title nobler than that of the children of God-any end more exalted than that of living to the glory of God.

Come, then, and revisit the cross, and there let us aim at a higher order of Christian devotedness than we have ever yet exhibited-there, while we feel amazed that God should have so magnified us, let us give ourselves up to penitence that we have done so little for His cause.

My young friends, come, I entreat you, and make this the season of your dedication to God. Room is yet left you to commence a glorious era in His Church. Only give yourselves up to the absorbing sentiment of the text, and throw your hearts into the great work of man's recovery,—and Heaven itself shall join you, and the Spirit anoint you to your work, and the world be given unto your hands. Only "thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead; and that he died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him which died for them, and rose again."

SERMON II.

THE WORTH OF THE SOUL.

MATTHEW xvi. 26-" For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"

OUR Lord's teaching was eminently practical. And if the practical portion of His teaching were to be distributed into two parts, one part might be said to be directed to the conduct necessary in order to become His disciples; and the other, to the conduct necessary in consequence of becoming His disciples. For obvious reasons, however, the former part-that which related to the conditions of discipleshippredominated. As He addressed men before they had become Christians-before Christianity itself had become a factHis practical public teaching was naturally directed rather to the conditions of discipleship than to its consequences.

Of course His teaching, in this relation, took its complexion from what He found man thinking, and feeling, and doing from the actual necessities of the case. He did not warn men against impracticable sins, and impossible dangers. He saw things as they were, and spoke of them as they should be. If, therefore, He warned men against worldliness, it was because He saw himself surrounded by its victims. Or if He warned them against attempting a compromise of sin with holiness, or of His own high and spiritual claims with the claims of self-indulgence and earthly distinction, it was because He saw men actually perishing in the attempt.

Now, so much of our Lord's discourses was occupied in teaching of this kind-in readjusting the claims between heaven and earth-that it may be said to be one of their characteristic features. He finds men mistaking phantoms for realities, and realities for phantoms-calling an atom a world, and a world an atom-absorbed in providing for the temporal future-and He urges them, as they respect their own rationality, not to omit eternity from their reckoning. Approaching the toiling multitude, exhausting themselves in efforts for the bread which perisheth, He reminds them that there is angels' food-bread of life-and urges them to put forth their soul's endeavour after that. Glancing at the devotee of wealth, and contrasting the burden of thick clay which he carries, with the narrowness of the entrance to the way of life, He exclaims, in accents of deep commiseration, "How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of heaven!" Penetrating into the inmost circle of domestic life, and arresting the inmates in the midst of their household cares, He calls them to His side, and turns on them a look of pity, as He reminds them, that while they are careful and troubled about many things, "one thing is needful." Taking his stand on the world's highway, and surveying the busy crowds as they pass and repass, each one as eager as if he had just discovered the secret of happiness after a thousand failures, and were about to give it an instant trial, He points them upwards, and reminds them that the good they seek is there that there is one thing to which everything else desirable is appended-and that He exhorts them to "seek first." Some of them pause, admit the validity of His claims, and--if they may but bring the world with them-profess a readiness to fall into His train. But such a compromise is impossible. The experiment has been made and repeated, in effect, in every form and in every age; and He solemnly avers, with the confidence of one who knows that it has failed as often as it has been made, that it is inherently and eternally impracticable. "Ye cannot serve

For

God and mammon." "If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me. whosoever will save his life shall lose it, and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it." The question is one of life and death. Both neutrality and compromise are impossible. It is a conflict, and sides must be taken. On each side a sacrifice is involved. On the side of Christ, the sacrifice of the world; on the side of the world, the sacrifice of the soul of the man himself. Here, therefore, there is no comparison. "For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?"-lose that which alone is capable of enjoyment-" or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" Let us, then, attempt to impress our minds with the nature of the risk we run of losing it with the infinitude of the loss-and with the remedilessness of the ruin. Brethren, this is a subject which will be resumed—should we never look at it on earth again-resumed after every other question of time has been dismissed-on the final day. Whatever the interest we may feel in it now, be it great or little, then it will be all-absorbing. God help us to consider it now as in the view of that day!

I

What then, firstly, is the nature of the risk we run of losing our souls? Whatever it be, it must be of a nature corresponding with the nature of the soul. We are not to picture any violent seizure and hurrying away of the soul into darkness by a visible foe. No fatal wounds inflicted on its substance are to be thought of. These are not necessary for the destruction even of the body. The wellbeing of the body requires constant communication with certain external objects and agents. Let it be deprived of these, and it perishes; and so of the soul. The wellbeing of the body requires the attainment of certain ends; defrauded of these, it is conscious only of unrest and suffering; and so of the