ears of our hearers with empty words, rather than bring home to their minds any truths that will do them good. You know very well that your faults are not those which you read of most in books; for books are written by men, and, in general, are intended to be read by men; they speak, therefore, mostly of the sins and temptations of manhood,— of covetousness, ambition, injustice, pride, and other older vices, with which you feel that you have as yet but small concern. Besides, the pulpit is a solemn and sacred place; whereas the matters with which you are daily engaged are so common and so humble, that it seems like a want of reverence to speak of them in a sermon plainly by their names. And yet, if we do not speak of them plainly by their names, half of what we say will be lost in the air. I purpose, then, with God's help, now and, perhaps, at some future times also, during this season of Lent which is now begun, to say something to you all about your own particular state and dangers; nor shall I care how plain and familiar is the language I use, as it is my wish to speak in such a manner that the youngest boy amongst you may understand, if he chooses to listen and to attend.

It is now a little more than a week ago, since there was read in this chapel the story of Adam eating the forbidden fruit, and being on that account driven out of paradise, and made liable to

death. This story tells us how the first man that ever lived became a sinner: and we know, if we look into our own hearts with any care and sincerity, that we shall find enough that is sinful in ourselves. That this is so generally, that bad, if left to itself, is too strong for good, and that the greatest number are apt to follow the bad rather than the good,

-men learn every year of their lives more fully, by their experience of the world around them; but you too have had some experience of it already. Several of you are only just come to this place; some of you were never at any school at all till you came here. Some of you, at least, and I hope very many, have had the blessing of good parents at home; you have been taught to hear of God, and of Christ, to say your prayers, and to remember that wherever you are, and whatever you are doing, God ever sees you. You have seen in your own house nothing base, nothing cruel, nothing illnatured, and especially, nothing false. You thought a lie was one of the most hateful things in the world; and that to give up to your brothers and sisters, and to please your parents, was a great deal better than to be always quarrelling and envying, and to think of pleasing no one but yourselves. I hope and believe that many of you, before you came to school, were thus taught, and that the teaching was not in vain; that you not only heard of what was good, but, on the whole,

practised it. But how is it with you now? I am afraid that I dare not ask those who have been here so much as one half year or more: but even if I were to ask those who have not yet been here so much as one month, what sort of an answer could you give, if you answered truly? Do you think of God now? Do you remember that he ever, and in every place, sees what you are doing? Do you say your prayers to him? Do you still think that lying, and all those shuffling, dishonest excuses, which are as bad as lying, are base, and contemptible, and wicked?-or have you heard these things so often from others, even if you yourselves have not been guilty of them, that you think there cannot be any great harm in them? Do you still love to be kind to your companions, never teasing or ill-treating them, and never being ill-natured and out of temper with them?—or have you already been accustomed to the devilish pleasure of giving pain to others: and whilst you are yourselves teased and ill used by some who are stronger than you, do you repeat the very same conduct to those who are weaker than you? Are you still anxious to please your parents; and, in saying your lessons, do you still retain the natural thought of a well-bred and noble disposition, that you would like to say them as well as you can, and to please those who teach you?—or have you already learnt the first lesson in the devil's school,

to laugh at what is good, and generous, and highprincipled, and to be ashamed of doing your duty? Now if you have been wholly or in part corrupted in these points, within one short month, so that the good learnt in ten or twelve years has been overthrown in less than thirty days;-and if this has happened not to one or two only, who might happen to be weak, and easily led into evil, but, more or less, to all of you, and, in a greater degree, generally speaking, to those who have been here for a longer period; if, in short, you all find that you would be afraid to speak and act just as you ought to do, because you would be laughed at and disliked if you did;-then you have already had some experience of the truth of what the Bible tells us, that man's nature is corrupt and bad; and you can understand somewhat of the meaning of those texts which speak of the world as being opposed to God, and that its friendship is enmity with God. It shows you plainly, how strong must be our evil dispositions, when you see them, in so short a time, getting the better of those that have had ten or twelve years to ripen; it shows you, too, how much the world is opposed to God; that is, the opinions and practices of a number of persons, living together in one society,—because you see a number of boys, who, while living at home, or by themselves, might go on very well, and think and act very rightly, yet, as soon as they mix with

one another, and form one large body, the opinions and influence of that body shall be bad.

Every

boy brings some good with him, at least, from home, as well as some evil; and yet you see how very much more catching the evil is than the good, or else you would make one another better by mixing together; and if any single boy did anything wrong, it would be condemned by the general opinion of all the school, just as some wrong things, such as stealing money, for example, are condemned at present. You have learnt, then, or at least, you have had the experience, and may have learnt, if you chose, how easily you are tempted to do wrong, and how apt the world is to tempt you: for, as I said before, the society in which we live is the world; and, therefore, school is the world to you, just as our town and neighbourhood and acquaintance, and all those who hear or know any thing about us, are the world to each of us in after life. And if you find, and sometimes, perhaps, feel sorry within yourselves, that it is so hard to be good; that you are so easily tempted to evil, and that the world about you is so apt to tempt you; and yet, although you are thus sorry not to be better, you still are, in fact, no better;-then you are under what St. Paul calls the service and bondage of sin; that is, your lives are sinful, whether you like it or no; and being sinful, lead you to dislike God, and to fear him, without the