humbler creature, because, not in mind, but in mensuration, he was not quite so high! And so long as this is the case, do you believe that men understand their own minds, that they know what they possess within them? How many, in fact, feel as if that inward being, that mind, were respectable, chiefly because their bodies lean on silken couches, and are fed with costly luxuries! How many respect themselves, and look for respect from others, in proportion as they grow more rich, and live more splendidly, not more wisely, and fare more sumptuously every day! Surely it is not strange, while all this is true, that men should be more attracted by objects of sense and appetite than by miracles of wisdom and love. And it is not strange that the spiritual riches which man is exhorted to seek, are represented in scripture as "hid treasures;" for they are indeed hidden in the depths of the soul-hidden, covered up, with worldly gains and pomps and vanities. It is not strange that the kingdom of heaven that kingdom which is within-is represented as a treasure buried in a field: the flowers bloom and the long grass waves there, and men pass by and say it is beautiful; but this very beauty, this very luxuriance, conceals the treasure. And so it is in this life, that luxury and show, fashion and outward beauty, worldly pursuits and possessions attract the eyes of men, and they know not, the treasure that is hidden in every human soul.

Yes, the treasure and the treasure that is in every soul. The difference that exists among men is not so much in their nature, not so much in their intrinsic power, as in the power of communication. To some it is given to unbosom and embody their thoughts; but all men, more or less, feel those thoughts. The very

glory of genius, the very rapture of piety, when rightly revealed, are diffused and spread abroad, and shared

among unnumbered minds. When eloquence and

poetry speak,-when the glorious arts, statuary, and painting, and music,-when patriotism, charity, virtue, speak to us, with all their thrilling power, do not the hearts of thousands glow with a kindred joy and ecstasy? Who's here so humble, who so poor in thought or in affection, as not to feel this? Who's here so low, so degraded I had almost said, as not sometimes to be touched with the beauty of goodness? Who's here with a heart made of such base materials as not sometimes to respond, through every chord of it, to the call of honour, patriotism, generosity, virtue? What a glorious capacity is this!-a power to commune with God and angels!—a reflection of the brightness of heaven— a mirror that collects and concentrates within itself all the moral splendours of the universe—a light kindled from heaven, that is to shine brighter and brighter for ever! For what, then, my friends, shall we care as we ought to care for this? What can man bear about with him-what office, what array, what apparelthat shall beget such reverence as the soul he bears with him? What circumstances of outward splendour can lend such imposing dignity to any being, as the throne of inward light and power, where the spirit reigns for ever? What work of man shall be brought into comparison with this work of God? I will speak of it in its simplest character-I say a thought, a bare thought, and yet I say, what is it and what is its power and mystery? Breathed from the inspiration of the Almighty; partaking of infinite attributes; comprehending, analyzing, and with its own beauty clothing all things; and bringing all things and all themes

-earth, heaven, eternity-within the possession of its momentary being; what is there that man can formwhat sceptre or throne-what structure of ages— what empire of wide-spread dominion-can compare with the wonders and the grandeur of a single thought? It is that alone of all things that are made-it is that alone that comprehends the Maker of all. That alone is the key which unlocks all the treasures of the universe. That alone is the power that reigns over space, time, eternity. That, under God, is the sovereign dispenser to man of all the blessings and glories that lie within the compass of possession, or within the range of possibility. Virtue, piety, heaven, immortality, exist not, and never will exist for us, but as they exist, and will exist in the perception, feeling, thought-of the glorious

mind.

Indeed, it is the soul alone that gives any value to the things of this world; and it is only by raising the soul to its just elevation above all other things, that we can look rightly upon the purposes of this life. This, to my apprehension, is not only a most important, but a most practical view of the subject.

I have heard men say that they could not look upon this life as a blessing. I have heard it more than insinuated, I have known it to be actually implied in solemn prayers to God, that it is a happiness to die in infancy. And nothing, you are aware, is more common than to hear it said, that youth, unreflecting youth, is the happy season of life. And when, by reason of sickness or the infirmities of age, men outlive their activity and their sensitive happiness, nothing is more common than to look upon the continuance of life, in these circumstances, as a misfortune.

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Now I do not wonder at these views so long as men are as worldly as they usually are. I wonder that they do not prevail more. "Oh! patient and peaceable men that ye are!"—I have been ready to say to the mere men of this world" Peaceable men and patient! what is it that bears you up? What is it but a blind and instinctive love of life that can make you content to live?" But let the soul have its proper ascendency in our judgments, and all the mighty burthen is relieved. Life is then the education of the soul, the discipline of conscience, virtue, piety. All things then are subordinate to this sublime purpose. Life is then one scene of growing knowledge, improvement, devotion, joy, and triumph. In this view, and in this view only, it is an unspeakable blessing; and those who have not yet taken this view, who have not yet given the soul its just pre-eminence, who have not yet become spirituallyminded, are not yet prepared to live. It is not enough to say, as is commonly said, that they are not prepared to die; they are not prepared to live.

I would not address this matter, my friends, merely to your religious sensibility; I would address it to your common sense. It is a most serious and practical mat. ter. There are many things in this world, as I have more than once said, which are called interests. But he who has not regarded his soul as he ought, who has gained no deep sense of things that are spiritual, has neglected the main interest, the chief use of this life, the grand preparation for living calmly, wisely, and happily. It is a thousand times more serious for him than if he had been negligent about property, about honour, or about worldly connexions and friendships.

With this reasonable subjection of the body to the

soul, with this supreme regard to the soul as the guiding light of life, every man would feel that this life is a blessing, and that the continuance of it is a blessing. He would be thankful for its continuance with a fervour which no mere love of life could inspire; for life to him, and every day of it, would be a glorious progress in things infinitely more precious than life. He would not think the days of unreflecting youth the happiest days. He would not think that the continuance of his being upon earth, even beyond active usefulness to others, was a misfortune or a mystery. He would not be saying, "Why is my life lengthened out?" He would feel that every new day of life spread before him glorious opportunities to be improved, glorious objects to be gained. He would not sink down in miserable ennui or despondency. He would not faint, or despair, or be overwhelmed with doubt amidst difficulties and afflictions. He would feel that the course of his life, even though it pass on through clouds and storms, is glorious as the path of the sun.

Thus have I endeavoured to show that the care of the soul is the most essential of all human interests. Let no worldly man think himself wise. He might be a wise animal, but he is not a wise man. Nay, I cannot admit even that. For being what he is-animal or man, call him what you will-it is as truly essential that he should work out the salvation of the soul, as it is that he should work with his hands for his daily bread. How reasonable then is our Saviour's exhortation when he says, "Labour, therefore, not for the meat which perisheth, but for that which endureth unto everlasting life."