have a sufficiency; then, though some may want and others may complain; though dissatisfaction may prey upon the worldly, and envy may corrode the hearts of the jealous and discontented; for us there shall be a sufficiency indeed; for us there shall be a treasure which the world cannot give, nor change, nor disturb"an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not away."

DISCOURSE VI.

ON THE MISERIES OF LIFE.

ROMANS VIII. 20. FOR THe creature-tHAT IS MAN-WAS MADE SUBJECT TO VANITY-THAT IS TO SUFFERING-NOT WILLINGLY, BUT BY REASON OF HIM-OR AT THE WILL OF HIMWHO HATH SUBJECTED THE SAME IN HOPE.

In considering the spiritual philosophy of life, we can. not avoid the problem of human misery. The reality presses us on every side, and philosophy demands to sit in judgment on the fact.

I have often wondered that, with such themes as are presented to the pulpit, it could have ever been dull; still more that it should be proverbially dull. So practical are these themes, so profound, so intimate with all human experience, that I cannot conceive, what is to be understood, save through utter perversion, by a dull religion, a dull congregation, or a dull pulpit If there were an invading army just landed upon our shores; if there were a conflagration or a pestilence sweeping through our city, and we were assembled here to consider what was to be done -in all seriousness and most advisedly do I say, that no

questions could be raised, on such an occasion, more vital to our welfare, than those which present themselves to us here, on every Sunday. Take off the covering of outward form and demeanor from the heart of society, and what do we see? Is there not a struggle and a war going on-not upon our borders, but in the midst of us-in our dwellings, and in our very souls ?—a war, not for territory, nor for visible freedom; but for happiness, for virtue, for inward freedom! Are not misery and vice, as they were fire and pestilence, pressing, urging, threatening to sweep through this city, every day? Is not an interest involved in every day's action, thought, purpose, feeling, that is dearer than merchandize, pleasure, luxury, condition-dearer than life itself?

Does any one say, that religion is some abstract concern, some visionary matter, fit only for weak enthusiasts or doting fools-which has nothing to do with him nor with his real welfare; a thing indifferent-gone and given over to indifference,-beyond all hope of recovery; in which he cannot, for his life, interest himself? Ay, proud philosopher! or vain worldling!-sayest thou that? Is misery something abstract-with which thou canst not interest thyself? Is sin that source of misery-is the wrong thought, the wrong deed-the deed folded, muffled in darkness, the thought shut up in the secret breast, which neither flashing eye nor flushing check may tell— is this, I say, something abstract and indifferent? And is the holy peace of conscience, the joy of virtue, a thing for which a human being need not-cannot care? Nay, these are the great, invisible, eternal realities of our life -of our very nature!

I have said that suffering, as the most stupendous fact

in human experience, as the profoundest problem in our religious philosophy, presses us on every side. I will not mock you with formal proofs of its existence. And do not think either, that on this subject, I will go into detail or description. One may easily understand human experience-interpret the universal consciousness-too well, to think that either needful or tolerable. I will not speak of sicknesses or disappointments or bereavements, many though they are. I will not speak of the minds—more in number than we think—that bear the one, solitary, deepembosomed grief;

One fatal remembrance, one sorrow that throws,
In dark shade alike o'er their joys and their woes,
To which life nothing brighter nor darker can bring,
For which joy hath no balm, and affliction no sting.

I will not speak of the sighing that rises up from all the world, for a happiness unfound. But I point you to that which is seldom expressed-to that which lies deeper than all-that eternal want—which lies as a heavy resi. duum at the bottom of the cup of life-which albeit unperceived, amidst the flowings and gushings of pleasure, yet when the waters are low, ever disturbs that fountain. head, that living cup of joy, with impatience, anxiety and blind up-heaving effort after something good. Yes, the creature, the human being is made subject to this. There is a wanting and a wanting, and an ever wanting, of what is never-never on earth-to be obtained! For let us be just here. Religion itself does not altogether assuage that feeling; for even we ourselves, says the Apostle, groan within ourselves. No; religion itself does not sup. press that groan; though it does show, and therein is a

most blessed visitation, that it can satisfy that feeling as nothing else can, and that it has in it, the elements for satisfying it fully and infinitely.

I dwell somewhat upon this point as a matter of fact, my brethren, because I conceive that it is one office of the preacher, as it is of the poet and philosopher, to unfold the human heart and nature, more fully to itself. Strange as the opinion may be thought, I do not believe that men generally know how unhappy, at any rate how far from happiness, they are. That stupendous fact-the soul's misery-is covered up with business, cares, pleasures and vanities. Were human life unveiled to its depths were the soul-disrobed of all overlayings and debarred from all opiates-to come down, down to its own naked resources, it seems to me at times, that religion would need no other argument. With such apprehension at least as I have of this subject, I feel obliged to preach, as to some, and not a few, who not having taken the religious view of their existence, have come to look upon life with a dull and saddened eye. I believe there are not a few-it may be that they are of the more solitary in the world, and who have not as many stirring objects and prospects in life as others—who look upon the path that stretches before them as cheerless, and threatening to be more and more so as it advances; who say in their silent thoughts, "I shall live, perhaps, too long! I shall live, perhaps, till I am neglected, passed by, forgotten! I shall live possibly, till I am a burthen to others and to myself; Oh! what may my state be, before I die!"

Yes, "the creature was made subject to misery ;" and if you will find a rational being, not under that law, you must seek him, without the bounds of this world.