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 free spirit, to endless life. Thanks-let us again say and forever say-thanks be to God, who giveth us this victory of an assured hope, through our Lord Jesus Christ.

XIX.

ON THE RELIGION OF LIFE.

HE HATH MADE EVERY THING BEAUTIFUL IN ITS TIME.-Ecclesiastes iii. 11.

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 anything 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 labour, in merchandise, 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 inevitable 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 need churches nor ordinances; though they might still be proper for the expression of religious homage and gratitude.

Let us then look at this action of life, and attempt to see what is involved in it, and whether it is all alien, as is commonly supposed, to the spirit of sacred truth

and virtue.

I. And the first sphere of visible activity which presents itself, is labour; the business of life, as opposed to what is commonly called study. I have before spoken of the moral ministration of labour; but let us, in connexion with this subject, advert to it again.

My subject in this discourse is the religion of life; and I now say that there is a religion of toil. It is not

all drudgery, a mere stretching of the limbs and straining of the sinews to tasks. It has a meaning. It has an intent. A living heart pours life-blood into the toiling arm. Warm affections mingle with weary tasks. I say not how pure those affections are, or how much of imperfection may mix with them; but I say that they are of a class, held by all men to be venerable and dear; that they partake of a kind of natural sanctity. They are, in other words, the home affections. The labour that spreads itself over tilled acres, all points, for its centre, to the country farm-house. The labour that plies its task in busy cities, has the same central point, and thither it brings daily supplies. And when I see the weary hand bearing that nightly offering; when I see the toiling days-man, carrying to his home the means of support and comfort; that offering is sacred to my thought, as a sacrifice at a golden shrine. Alas! many faults there are, amidst the toils of life; many hasty and harsh words are spoken; but why do those toils go on at all? Why are they not given up entirely; weary and hard and exasperating as they often are? Because in that home, is sickness, or age, or protected though helping woman, to be provided for. Because that there, is helpless infancy or gentle childhood, that must not want.

Such are the labours of life; and though it is true that mere selfishness, mere solitary need would prompt to irregular and occasional exertion, or would push some ambitious persons, of covetous desires, to continued and persevering effort; yet I am persuaded, that the selfish impulses would never create that scene of labour, which we behold around us.

Let us next look at the studious professions.

And I must confess that I have often been struck with surprise that a physician could be an undevout