your faith, the sincerity of your obedience, and the depth of your submission. As in the more secret struggles of the soul, so in these you must go forth alone to the conflict, and, like the prophet of old, must tread the wine-press alone; for no human friend, however near and dear, can fully comprehend your soul, or understand the peculiar sorrows and trials that at times bow your spirit in grief and in agony. And yet you are not alone, if the Father is with you; not alone, if beneath you are the Everlasting arms; not alone, if the Saviour's voice whispers amid the darkness," It is I, be not afraid," and to the surging waves of grief says, "Peace, be still"; not alone, if the Redeemer's hand is laid upon your brow in blessing, and the pulses of your throbbing heart are stilled by his holy benediction, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."

From the night-watches on Olivet, from the garden of Gethsemane, and the cross on Calvary, have come the Christian's hope and trust; and in the light of the Saviour's countenance suffering is for evermore transfigured, and trial and grief made radiant with a heavenly brightness and joy.

God grant that you may so meet the varied discipline of life, and so seek its one great end,

that through every new trial of your faith you may be brought to a more trusting confidence in your Father, and to a more assured repose on your Saviour's love; receiving, at length, the end of your faith, even the salvation of your soul.

LETTER XII.

THE DAILY LIFE.

HAVING Spoken to you of the great spiritual meaning of life, and of its varied spiritual discipline and experience, and believing that you are sincerely striving to walk in that narrow path of Christian obedience which the Master has marked before you, it might seem unnecessary for me to refer to any of the details of daily conduct, which I might leave to the cognizance of your own inward convictions of duty, and the judgment of your own conscience.

Yet when I remember how many who enter upon the Christian course fail in the race, and grow weary and disheartened, through the routine of daily toil and care, and the constant friction of little troubles and vexations, or rest midway in the course, making no definite progress, neglecting the cultivation of their powers, and falling into habits of self-indulgence, selfishness, and worldliness, I feel that the young pilgrim needs every help and defence which Christian counsel, sympathy, and love can place

around him, to aid and sustain him in the narrow path of life. Let me then speak to you freely and simply, trusting that my words will be received with kindness, though they may contain no new or exciting truths.

If I am not mistaken, your true aim and sincere desire in every better moment is to be in heart and life a follower of Christ, a true and faithful disciple of your divine Master; and such an aim and desire includes at once the entire consecration of all your powers to his service, your powers of heart and mind, your opportunities of doing good and exerting a Christian influence, the employment of your time, the use of your means, the improvement of every opportunity of self-culture, the doing of God's will and not your own, in things little no less than great. You have given yourself to your Master's service, and simple, child-like obedience to his commands is his one requirement. You are no longer to consult your own ease and pleasure and self-indulgence, but to merge each selfish, lower thought in the desire to conform the spirit wholly to the Divine will.

You have chosen Christ as your only true guide, and are therefore never to compare your life and character with the imperfect attainments or the low standard of those around you, but to look only to the spirit and life of Him who alone has given the perfect example which you are to

follow. "Be ye perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect." "Be ye holy, for I am holy."

I do not ask whether such a spirit and such a life is an easy attainment, but I do ask whether there is not, at times, a secret and baneful tendency in your soul to rest satisfied with a low standard of obedience, with a half-way compliance with many of the Divine laws, with a readiness to exclude some of the pursuits and business of the daily life from comparison with the strict requirements of your only perfect standard and guide?

As to the regulation of your whole inward being, the control of your thoughts, wishes, and desires, do you habitually and daily bring these under the cognizance of the great laws of accountability, or do you often remain content if in outward act the life has been in any good measure conformed to the dictates of truth and of duty? Have you remembered that thoughts are truly the deeds of the soul, and, when your hands have been busily occupied, have you watched their swiftly changing current, seeking to keep it pure and clear, a transparent stream of holy desires, and pure affections, and noble deeds, in which the Divine image may be truly mirrored? Have endeavored at such times so to regulate and control them as to turn them to useful subjects of contemplation, reviewing the books you have read, the sermons and lectures you

you