"through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God." Now all these passages agree with the text in this, that they all speak of good things coming after trouble: they do not allow us to suppose that our course from our birth to eternity is to run all smooth. And though all these passages naturally receive a deeper colouring from outward circumstances;-that is, though the persecution which daily beset the first Christians, and the general calamities which befell the whole Christian world at the downfall of the Roman empire, would make men, living at those particular times, feel the truth of these passages more keenly; yet they serve no less for seasons of calm than of storm; they should remind us in what manner we ought to look upon life beforehand, without being forced to do so, whether we will or no, by the pressure of outward misery.

I dwelt last Sunday upon imitating Christ, so far as it was possible, in the particular sort of employment which he chose,—namely, in the mixing with other men, neither for business only, that is, in the way of our calling,-nor yet for pleasure only, that is, in common society, but for charity in its largest sense, that is, from a desire to do good to the bodies or souls of others. And now taking the words of my present text, I will show how this Christ-like employment is most suited to our state on earth, as one of humiliation, leading

hereafter to glory; and how it specially helps us to make that state happy, by enabling us to rid it of its carefulness, by casting all our care upon God, for He careth for us.

Half, and more than half, of the practical faults in the world, arise from looking upon life in a false view, and expecting from it what God does not mean us to find in it. It may be that many persons, when reading attentively our Lord's life, and studying his language, are greatly surprised at the absolute unworldliness of both of them. Little stress is laid upon common industry, or upon our duties to society, whether on a smaller scale or politically. Little or nothing is said of the pursuit of knowledge, or the benefit which mankind derive from a cultivation of the arts and sciences. Nay, in those well-known expressions in the Sermon on the Mount, telling us to take no thought for the morrow what we shall eat, or what we shall drink, or wherewithal we shall be clothed, I doubt not but that many readers, if they would own the truth, are rather offended at his words, and are somewhat inclined to say, with the Jews of old, "This is a hard saying; who can hear it?" But he to whom all things future are as present, suited both his life and his words to what he knew would be ever the chief error of mankind. He knew that social and civil activity were sufficiently natural to man to need no encouragement: he knew

that knowledge would be pursued, and arts and sciences cultivated. But he knew that the kingdom of God and his righteousness would not be sought after; he knew that men would look carefully enough on the things of this life, but would care for little beyond it. And, coming as he did to bring immortality to light, and to open the kingdom of heaven, he dwelt strongly upon the wholly different complexion which the opening of this prospect threw upon our earthly life, and how it changed it at once from a thing complete in itself, to a mere and most insignificant beginning of eternity; how it made that so valuable which could help us forward to our real and eternal life, and that so trifling, when received in faith, which can but give joy and sorrow for a moment.

For ourselves then, and for our children, life is before us as a trial-time of uncertain length, but short at the longest, in which we may fit ourselves, if we will, for an eternal life beyond it. This is life to each of us, and this is our proper business; all the rest that we do, or can do, however splendid, however useful, is, or should be, done only subordinately. We may be thankful to God when he makes our training for eternity consist in the doing great and useful actions, in bringing forth much fruit; but we, each of us, are doing our business as thoroughly, are answering as completely the purposes for which we were sent into the world, if

we are laid for years of our life upon a bed of sickness, incapable of any further action than that of glorifying God, and perfecting our own souls, by patient love. The welfare of nations, the improvement of the world on a large scale, are, if I may use such an expression, God's object and God's business; and thankful and happy we may be when, by the particular call of his providence, he chooses us to be his honoured instruments in accomplishing his work. But yet we should rejoice with trembling, lest, while thus engaged in what I have ventured to call God's peculiar work, we may chance to neglect our own; while preaching or ministering to, or enlightening, or governing others, we ourselves should be castaways. It is not, therefore, true that our great business or object in the world is to do all the good we can in it our great business and object is to do God's will, and so to be changed through his Spirit into his image, that we may be fit to live with him for His will is declared to us by the course of his providence, putting us into different situations of life where different duties are required of us; but these duties are duties because they are his will; and if performed without reference to Him, -if done for worldly objects only, be they ever so extensive and beneficial,—if done solely to improve mankind, and not to do the will of our heavenly Father then our great business in life is left un

ever.

done, and the most helpless sufferer who has been bedridden for years, or the child who has been called away after the first opening of its heart to the love of God, has spent life better, and better answered the end for which he was born, than we.

And it is manifest, that to keep this end steadily in view is a wonderful means of ridding life of its carefulness. If to be useful in our generation simply, be our main object, our happiness cannot but greatly depend upon outward circumstances. Our own weakened health, the failure of our faculties, the decay of our worldly prosperity, the state of other men's minds, and the condition of public affairs, may at any time cripple our usefulness, and defeat our object at the very moment when we thought ourselves sure of obtaining it. And the prospect of death, in the vigour of his years, to a man engaged in some long and important work, which he feels would be useful to mankind if he could accomplish it, is one of the severest trials to him if he does not remember what his real business in life is, and when he may feel that it is accomplished. Most painful would it be to be taken away from the harvest when his hand was just upon the sickle, if he did not think who was the Lord of that harvest, and to whom it belonged to find the reapers for it. But when we do think of all this, and recollect what is indeed our real business here, we cast at once all our care