practical godliness. Says the Apostle: "Add to your faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, and to knowledge temperance, and to temperance patience, and to patience godliness, and to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness charity." I infer from this language that religion and morality are so intermixed that they cannot be separated. I infer from this language that the religion of the Son of God is not a thing foreign to the soul, incomprehensible, coming in completeness suddenly to the heart, but that it is a moral and spiritual life, following in the channel of the heart, growing deeper and wider and purer and more beneficent, in its way to the ocean of eternity; as the rill of the mountain grows deeper and wider and purer and beneficent, in its course to the great sea.

The righteous man, the religious man, the Christian, is he who adds to his faith all the graces and powers which I have just named. We cannot wonder that such a man is strong, calm cheerful in his time of life and toil. Nor can we wonder that he is filled with hope and courage in the hour of death.

Such a man will not live an idle or a profitless life. He lives well, he lives wisely, nobly, temperately. He walketh not in the ways of the ungodly. He shuns the path of dissipation. He is not led astray by

the baits of sin. He moves in the midst of the world with love and goodness in his heart, with the light of hope and joy on his countenance.

Sometimes it is carelessly said, that the wicked prosper in the path of life, that the righteous do not. This is neither the testimony of the Scriptures, nor

that of our experience. The "righteous," says Solomon, "shall be recompensed in the earth; much more the wicked and the sinner." "There is that scattereth and yet increaseth; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty." 66 A good man leaveth an inheritance to his children's children; and the wealth of the sinner is laid up for the just."

Any one whose opportunities for observation have been at all favorable, will declare that these sayings are true. It is very true, though some men have been remarkably religious all their days, they are not men of wealth; and there are very wicked men who have never made themselves opulent. I need not say that these cases are not the general ones; nor is it necessary for me to call attention now to the causes which produce these exceptions. Nor am I required here to show you that the good man in his poverty is not unhappy, or that the wicked man with his riches, is an unsatisfied, miserable being.

The wise man who speaks so distinctly of the outward results of a righteous or a wicked life, does not overlook these exceptions. "There is," says he, "that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing; there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches." We can act no more wisely than to shun sin, whatever its form, as an enemy to our peace, as an obstacle in the way of prosperity, and to follow the Saviour in the path of righteousness, love, faith, hope, and joy.

DISCOURSE XXXII.

INTELLECTUAL AND RELIGIOUS INTERESTS, THE FIRST.

PROVERBS VIII. 10, 11.

RECEIVE MY INSTRUCTION, AND NOT SILVER; AND KNOWLEDGE RATHER THAN CHOICE GOLD. FOR WISDOM IS BETTER THAN RUBIES; AND ALL THE THINGS THAT MAY BE DESIRED ARE NOT TO BE COMPARED TO IT.

Wherever Christianity has won the nominal respect of mankind, this language of one of the old Hebrew writers, is listened to pleasingly and approvingly. It is apparently admitted by all parties, to be very true, and very beautiful language. But what is the proportion, do you think, in Christendom, or in our own Christian community—of those who see and accept what these words imply! How many of us could be found, do you suppose, who, if tried by the Saviour's test, "where your treasure is, there will your heart be also," would be seen as regarding the wise man's sentences, not merely as the brilliant examples of rhetoric, but as the expressions of solid truth? What to us, indeed, are the highest interests? What do we care for chiefly? Do we set the highest value on those things which enrich and adorn the mind, or on those things which make up our worldly estate,

and add greatness and lustre to our outward circumstances?

Alas! we have an easy way of acknowledging that wisdom, which, in the light of the Saviour's instruction, comprehends all knowledge, and all moral excellence, and which is to be sought rather than silver, or choice gold, which is better than rubies or the most precious stones, and is beyond comparison above all other desirable things, we have an easy way of acknowledging all this, yet place our hearts on the very things we affect to consider the lower and less valuable. In the church, in the lyceum, in the social circle, occasionally, we assent to the remark, that the most noble of all things, is truth or virtue. We profess to each other that we love God, and are loyal to his authority; and yet, in reality, we worship mammon; we take over anxious "thought for the morrow," asking ourselves: "what shall we eat? or, what shall we drink? or, wherewithal shall we be clothed?" Nay, we turn the cold shoulder to all the highest concerns, to our intellectual, moral, and spiritual interests, and become intent only in earthly pursuits, or in the aim for worldly possessions, and worldly ease.

Now, the wisest men fail, in their most glowing imagery, to describe those elements which flow from God as streams of life to our souls. Should they congeal or turn to silver or gold, and sparkle with rubies and diamonds, to our minds, to our hearts, to the best part of ourselves, to that part which is to live forever, they would be worthless. Whatever the name we give to the form they grow to within us, whether

we call it wisdom, truth, virtue, or holiness, "all the things that may be desired, are not to be compared to it."

This being true, we do ourselves very great harm. We bring ourselves to the worst kind of poverty, when we prevent the growth of wisdom within us. The saddest case we can notice, is that of the man who has become engrossed in the concerns of the world. The grossest outward form is but a faint image of such an one's inward condition. He may be rich, and present a fair exterior, but within, he is famishing for the Bread of Life. He carries about within himself an impoverished soul, for he has closed its doors against the wealth which is proffered by the hand of truth.

Both as individuals, and as an organized community, it should be our purpose to avoid the course of life which leads to moral want and degradation. I know that the temptations of the world are great. I know that there are outward objects which dazzle or please the eye. I know how easy it is to cheat ourselves with the notion, that our principal ends are promoted, if we are but able to live in a palace, and no physical want is unsupplied. In this condition we are apt to be indifferent to the interests of virtue and religion, to be deaf to the voice of wisdom or truth, and to pursuade ourselves that we need not take any pains to live above the world, as the great Teacher commands. This is the great mistake of our life. The truth is, we cannot, with impunity, slight the messages of wisdom, or shirk the labors of religion, and bury ourselves in the midst of the affairs of the