up with it, and in it; and without it, life would be both miserable and ignoble.

I will only add in fine, that religion alone offers to us the hope of a future life, and that without this our present being is shorn of all its grandeur and hope.

Whether we look at our own death or at the death of others, this consideration, this necessity of a faith that takes hold of eternity, presses upon us. I know very well what the common and worldly consolation is. I know very well, the hackneyed proverb, that "time is the curer of grief;" but I know very well too, that no time can suppress the sigh that is given to the loved and lost. Time, indeed, lightens the constant pressure of grief rather than blunts its edge; and still more than either, perhaps, does it smooth over the outward aspect of that suffering: but often when all is outwardly calm and even bright, does the conscious heart say "I hear a voice you cannot hear; I see a sign you cannot see ;" and it pays the sad and dear tribute of bereaved love. No, the memory of the beloved ones parts not from us, as its shadow passes from our countenance. And who is there, around whose path such memories linger, that will not say, "I thank God, through our Lord Jesus Christ," through him who is the revealed "resurrection and life;" through him who said, "he that liveth and believeth in me, shall never die ?" For now, blessed be God, we mourn not as those who have no hope. But surely, dying creatures as we are, and living in a dying world, if in this life only we had hope, we should of all beings, be

most miserable!

In fine,

my

view of life is such, that if it were not for my faith and hope, I should very little care what became

of it. Let it be longer or shorter, it would but little matter, if all was to end when life ended; if all my hopes and aspirations, and cherished joys, were to be buried with Oh! that life of insect cares me for ever, in the tomb. and pursuits, and of insect brevity-the mind that God has given me could only cast a sad and despairing look upon it, and then dismiss it, as not worth a farther thought. But no such sad and shocking incongruity, is there, thanks be to God, in the well ordered course of our being. The harmonies that are all around us, in all animal, in all vegetable life-in light and shade, in mountain and valley, in ocean and stream, in the linked train of the seasons, in the moving and dread array of all the heavenly hosts of worlds--the harmonies of universal nature, but above all, the teachings of the Gospel, assure us that no such shocking incongruity and disorder are bound up in the frame of our nature.

No; it is true; that which we so much need to support us, is true; God doth look down upon our humble path with the eye of paternal wisdom and love; this universe is full of spiritual influences to help us in the great conflict of life; there is a world beyond in which we may assuredly trust. The heart full of weighty interests and cares, of swelling hopes and aspirations, of thoughts too big for utterance, is not given us merely that we may bear it to the grave, and bury it there. From that sleeping dust shall rise the freed spirit, to endless life. Thankslet us again say and for ever say-thanks be to God, who giveth us this victory of an assured hope, through our Lord Jesus Christ.

DISCOURSE XIV.

ON THE RELIGION OF LIFE.

ECCLESIASTES III. 11. HE HATH MADE EVERY THING

BEAUTIFUL IN ITS TIME.

IN my last discourse on human Life, I spoke of religion, as the great, appropriate and pervading sentiment of life. The religion of life-by which I mean a different thing-the religion, the sanctity, the real, spiritual consecration naturally and properly belonging to all the appointed occupations, cultivated arts, lawful amusements, and social bonds of life; this is the subject of my present discourse.

By most religious systems, this life-the life, that is, which the world is leading and has been leading through ages-is laid under a dark and fearful ban. "No religion"--is the summary phrase which is written upon almost its entire history. Though it is held by these very systems, that the world was made for religion— made that is to say, for the culture of religion in the hearts of its inhabitants-yet it is contended that this purpose has been almost entirely frustrated.

First, the heathen nations, by this theory, are cut off from all connection with real religion. Next, upon the mass of christian nations, as being unregenerate and utterly depraved, the same sentence is passed. I am not disposed, on this subject, to exact the full measure of inference from any mere theory. Men's actual views are often in advance of their creeds. But is it not very evident as a third consideration—that the prevailing views of the world's life, very well agree with the prevailing creeds? Is it not the common feeling, that mankind in the mass-in the proportion of thousands to one-have failed to attain to any thing of true religion; to any, the least of that which fulfils the real and great design of the Creator? Is it not commonly felt that the mass of men's pursuits, of their occupations, of their pleasures, is completely severed from this great purpose? In labor, in merchandize, in the practice of law and of medicine, in literature, in sculpture, painting, poetry, music, is it not the constant doctrine or implication of the pulpit, that there is no religion, no spiritual virtue, nothing accordant with the Gospel of Christ? Men, amidst their pursuits, may attain to a divine life; but are not the pursuits themselves regarded, as having nothing, strictly speaking, to do with such a life—as having in them no elements of spiritual good—as having in them no tendency to advance religion and goodness in the world.

This certainly, upon the face of it, is a very extraordinary assumption. The pursuits in question, are— some of them necessary; others, useful; and all, natural; that is to say they are developments, and inev

itable and predestined developments of the nature which God has given us. And yet it is maintained and believed, that they have no tendency to promote his great design in making the world, that they have nothing in them allied to his purpose, that, at the most, they are only compatible with it, and that the actual office which they discharge in the world, is to lead men away from it. The whole, heaven-ordained activity, occupation, care, ingenuity of human life, is at war with its great purpose. And if any one would seek the welfare of his soul, he is advised to leave all -the farmer, his plow-the merchant, his ships-the lawyer, his briefs-and the painter, his easel; and to go to a revival-meeting or a confessional, or to retire to his closet. I need not say that I am not here objecting to meditation-to distinct, thoughtful and solemn meditation,-as one of the means of piety and virtue; but I do protest against this ban and exclusion, which are thus virtually laid upon the beneficent and religious instrumentalities of a wise and gracious providence.

On the contrary, I maintain that every thing is beautiful in its time-in its place--in its appointed office; that every thing which man is put to do, naturally helps to work out his salvation; in other words, that if he obey the genuine principles of his calling, he will be a good man; and that it is only through disobedience to the heaven-appointed tasks, either by wandering into idle dissipation, or by violating their beneficent and lofty spirit, that he becomes a bad man. Yes, if man would yield himself to the great training of Providence in the appointed action of life, we should not