Parochial and Plain Sermons

T. BARTHOLOMEW, whose Festiwl we celel)rat. to-day, has been supposed to be the same as the Nathanael mentionel in the text. Nathanael was one of Christ's first converts, yet his name does nrt occur again till the last chapter of St. John's Gospel, where he is mentioned in company with certain of the Apostles, to whom Christ appeared after I[is resurrection. Now; why should the call of Nathanael have been recorded in the opening of the Gospel, among the acts of Christ in the beginning of His Ministry, unless he was an Apostle? Philip, Peter, and Andrew, who are mentioned at the same time, were all Apostles; and Nathanael's name is introduced without preface, as if familiar to a Christian reader. At the end of the Gospel it appears again, and there too among Apostles. Besides, the Apostles were the special witnesses of Christ, when He was risen.

lie manifested Himself, "not to all the people," says Peter, " but unto witnesses chosen before of God, even ta us, who did eat and drink with tlim after He rose fr,m lhe dead. '';Now, the occasion on which Nathanael is mentioned, was one of these manifestations. " This is now lhe third time," says the Evangelist, "that Jesus was manifested to IIis disciples, after that He was risen from the d.ad." It was in he presence of Nathanael, that lie gave St. Peter his commission, and fm'et,ld his martyrdom, and the prolonged life of St. J,hn. All this leads us to eonjeeture that Nathanael is one (,f he Ap)stles nnder am)ther name. Now, he is not Andrew, P.ter, or Philip, for they are mentioned in eonncxim with him in the first chapter of the Gospel; nor Thonms, James, or Johu, in whose company he is found in Ihe last chapter; nor Jude (as it would seem), bceause the name of Jude oeeurs in St. John's fourteenth ehapter. Four Apostles remain, who are not named in his C,spel,—St. James the Less, St. Matthew, St. Simon, and St. Bartholomev; f whom St. Matthew's seeond name is known to have been Levi, while St. James, being related, was not at any time a stranger to our Lord, which Nathanael evidently was. If then Nathanael were an Apostle, he was either Simon or Bartholomew. Now it is obsmwable, that, according to St. John, Philip brought Nathanael to Christ; therefore Nathanael and Philip were friends: while in the other (lospcls, iu the list of Apostles, Philip is assoeiated with Bartholomew; " Simon and Andrew, James and John, Philip and Bartholomew."  This is some evidenee that  Aets x. 41. 2 lIatt, x. 3.

Bartholoniew and not Simon is the Natlmnael of St. John. On the other hart,l, Matthias has been suggested instead of either, his name meauing nearly the same as Nathanael in the original language, llowever, siuce writers of some da decide in ivour of Bartholomew, I shall do the like in what follows. What then do we learn fl'om his recorded character and history It affords us au instructive lesson. When Philip told him tlut he had found the long expected Messiah of whom Moses wrote, Nathanael (that is, Bartholomew) at first doubted, lie was well read in the Scriptures, and knew the Christ was to be boru in Bethlehem; whereas Jesus dwelt at Nazareth, which Nathauael supposed in consequence to l)e the place of His birth,—and he knew of no particular proraises attached to that city, which was a place of evil report, ad he thought no good could come ont of it. Philip told him to come and see; and he went to see, as a humble Single-minded man, sincerely desirous to get at the truth. In consequence, he was vouchsafed an interview with our Saviour, aml was converted. Now, from what occurred in this interew, we gain some insight into St. Bartholomew's character. Our Lord said of him, " Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile " and it appears, moreover, as if, before Philip called him to come to Christ, he was engaged in meditation or prayer, in the privacy which a fig-tree's shade afforded him. And this, it seems, was the life of one who was destined to act the busy part of an Apostle; quietness without, guelessness within. This was the tranquil preparation for eat dangers and sufferings  meaus for nmturiug the highest Christian character, even that of an Apostle. Ba.aholomew read the Scriptures aud prayed to (od; aud thus was trained at length to give up his life for Christ, when tie demanded it. ]3ttt, further, let us consider the particular praise which our Savioau" gives him. "" Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile!" This is just the character which (through God's grace) they may atttin most fully, who live out of the worhl in the private w:ay I htve been deseribing,which is made least account of by mau, and thought to be in the way.of success in life, though our Saviour chose it to make head against all the power and wisdom of the world. Ieu f the world think an ignorauee.f its ways is a disadvautage or disgrace; as if it were somehow unmanly and we,k to have abstaiued from all acquaintauce with its impieties and lax practices. How often do we hear them say that a man must do so and so, nnless he would be singular and absurd; that he must not be too strict, or indulge high-flowu uotions of virtue, which may be good to talk about, but are not fit for this world! When they hear of any young person resolving on being consistently religious, or being strictly honest in trade, or observing a noble purity in language and demeauour, they smile and think it very well, but flat it will and must wear off in time. And they are ashamed of being innocent, and pretend to be worse than they really are. Then they have all sots of little 'ays—are mean, jealous, suspicious, censorious, cunning, insincere, selfish; and think others as low-aninded as themselves, only II] Z which happens to them, and make the best of every one; thus they have always something to be pleased with, not seeing the bad, and keenly sensible of the good. And communicating their own happy peace to those around them, they really diminish the evils of life in society at large, while they escape from the knowledge of them themselves. Such men are cheerful and contented; for they desire but little, and take pleasure in the least matters, having no wish for riches and distinction. And they are under the tyranny of no evil or base thoughts, having never encouraged what in the case of other men often spreads disorder and unholiness through their whole future life. They have no phantoms of former sins, such as remain even to the penitent, when lie has subdued their realities, rising up in their minds, harassing them, for a time domineering, and leaving a sting behind them. Guileless persons are, most of all men, skilful in shaming and silencing the wicked;—for they do not argue, but take things for 'anted in so natural a way, that they throw back sinner upon the recollection of those times of his youth, when he was pure from shL and thought as they do nov; and none but very hardened men can resist this sort of appeal. Men of irreligious lives live in bondage and fear; even though they do not acknowledge it to themselves. Many a one, who wotfld be ashamed to own it, is afraid of certain places or times, or of solitude, from a sort of instinct that he is no company for good sphits, and that devils may then assail him. But the guileless man has  simple boldness and a princely heart; he overcomes dangers which others shrink from, merely z2 beginning. Let us then pray God to fulfil in us "all the good pleasure of His goodness, and the work of faith with power;" that if it should please Him suddenly to bring us forward to great trials, as He did His Apostles, we may not be taken by surprise, but be found to have made a private or domestic life a preparation for the achievements of Confessors and Martyrs.

LVKE vi. 24. " Woe unto you that are rich! for ye have received your consolation."

NLESS we were accustomed to read the New Testament from our childhood, I think we should be very nmch struck with the warnings which it contains, not only against the love of riches, but the very possession of hem; we should wonder witlt a portion of that astonishment which the Apostles at first felt, who had been brought up in the notion that they were a chief reward which God bestowed on those He loved. As it is, we have heard the most solemn declarations so continually, that we have ceased to attach any distinct meaning to them; or, if our attention is at any time drawn more closely to them, we soon dismiss the subject on some vague imagination, that what is said in Scripture had a reference to the particular times when Christ came, without attempting to settle its exact application to us, or whether it has any such application at all,—as who has taken Christ's place, was called by Ilim "the Comforter." There is then something very fearful in the intimation of the text, that those who have riches thereby receive their portion, such as it is, in full, instead of the Heavenly (lilt of the Gospel. The same doctrine is implied in our Lord's words in the parable of Dives and Lazarus:" Son, remember thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; bnt now he is comforted, and thou art tormented." At another time lie said to lIis disciples, "][ow hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God! for it is easier for a camel to go flrough a needle's eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God."  Now, it is usual to dismiss such passages with the remark, that they are directed, not against those who have, but against those who trust in, riches; as if forsooth they implied no cotnexion between the having and the trusting, no warning lest the possession led to the idolatrous reliance on them, no necessity of fear and anxiety in the possessors, lest they should become castaways. And this irrelevant distinction is supposed to find countenance in our Lord's own language on one of the occasions above referred to, iu which lie first says, " How hardly shall they that have riches," then, '" How hard is it for them that ten.st in riches, to enter into the kingdom of God;" whereas surely, tie only removes His disciples' false impression, that the bare circumstance of possessing wealth was inconsistent with a state of salvation, and no more interprets hcving by trusting than  Luke xvi. 25; xviii. 24, 25.

makes trusting essential to ]aving. He connects the two, vithout identifying, vithout explaining away; and the sfiuple question which lies for our determination is this:—whether, considering that they who had riches when Christ came, were likely in His judgment idolatrously to trust in them, there is, or is not, reason for thinking that this likelihood varies materially in different ages; and, according to the solution of this question, must we determine the application of the woe pronounced in the text to these times. And, at all events, let it be observed, it is for those who would make out that these passages do not apply now, to give their reasons for their opinion; the burden of proof is with them. Till they draw their clear and reasonable distinctions between the first and the nineteenth century, the denunciation hangs over the world,—.that is, as much as over the Pharisees and Sadducees at otu" Lord's coming. But, in truth, that our Lord meant to speak of riches as being in some sense a calamity to the Christian, is plain, not only from such texts as the foregoing, but from His praises and recommendation on the other hand of poverty. For instance, " Sell that ye have and give alms; provide yourselves bags which wax not old." " If thou wilt be perfect, go sell that thou hast. and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven." " Blessed be ye poor: for yours is the kingdom of God." "When thou makest a dinner or a supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbours.... but.... call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind." And in like manner, St. James: "Hath not God chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of that kingdom which He hath promised to them that love Him?" 1 Now, I cite these texts in the way of doctrine, not of precept. Whatever be the line of conduct they prescribe to this or that individual (with which I have nothing to do at present), so far seems clear, that according to the rule of the Gospel, the absence of wealth is, as such, a more blessed and  more Christian state than the possession of it. The most obvious danger which worldly possessious present to our spiritual welfare is, that they become practically a substitute in our hearts for that One Object to which our supreme devotion is due. They are present; God is unseen. They are means at hand of effeeting what we want: whether God will hear our petitions for those wants is uncertain; or rather I may say, certain iu the negative. Thus they minister to the corrupt inclinations of our nature; they prolnise and are able to be gods to us, and such gods too as require no service, but, like dumb idols, exalt the worshipper, impressing him with a notion of his own power and security. And in this consist their chief and most subtle mischief. Religious men are able to repress, nay extirpate sinful desires, the lust of the flesh and of the eyes, gluttony, drunkenuess, and the like, love of amusements and frivolous pleasures and display, indulgence in luxuries of whatever kind; but as to wealth, they cannot easily rid themselves of a secret feeling that  Luke xii. 33. Natt. xix. 21. Luke vi. 20; xiv. 12, 13. James ii. 5.

it gives them a footing to stand upon, an importance, a superiority; aud in consequence flmy get attached to this world, lose sight of the duty of bearing the Cross, become dull and dim-sighted, and lose their delicacy and precision of touch, are nmnbed (so to say) in their fingers' ends, as regards religious interests and prospects. To risk all upon Christ's word seems somehow unnatural to them, extravagant, and evidences a morbid excitement; and death, instead of beiug a gracious, however awflfl relcase, is not a welcome subject of thought. They are contcnt to remain as they are, and do not contelnplate a change. They desire and mean to serve God, nay actually do serve Him in their measure; but not with fle keen sensibilities, the noble enthusiasln, the grandeur and elevation of soul, the dutifuluess and affeetionateness towards Christ which become a Christian, but as Jews might obey, who had no hnage of God given them except this created world, "eating their bread with joy, and drinking their wine with a merry heart," earing that "their garments be always white, and their head lacking no ointment, living joyfully with the wile whom they love all the days of the life of their vanity," and "enjoying the good of their labour."  Not, of course, that the due use of tod's temporal blessings is wrong, but to make them the object of our affections, to allow them to beguile us from the "One Husband" to whom we are espoused, is to mistake the Gospel for Judaism. This, then, if we may venture to say so, was some parI: of our Saviour's meaning, when He connects together  Eeeles, ix. 7—9; v. 18.

the having with the trusting in riches; and it is especially suitable to consider it upon this day, when we commemorate au Apostle and an Evangelist, whose history is an example and encouragement for all those who have, and fear lest they should trust. But St. Matthew was exposed to an additional temptation, which ] shall proceed to consider; for he not only possessed, but he was engaged also iu the pursuit, of wealth. Our Saviour seems to warn us against this further danger in His description of the thorns in the parable of the Sower, as being "the care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches;" and more clearly in the parable of the Great Supper, where the guests excuse themselves, one, as having "bought a piece f ground," another "five yoke of oxen." Still///ore openly does St. Paul speak in his:First Epistle to Timothy: "They that desire to be rich, fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition. Foe the love of money is the root of all evil; which, while some coveted after, they have erred from the Faith, and pierced themselves tl/rough with ninny sorrows." The danger of _possessing riches is the carnal security to which tlmy lead; that of "desiring" and pug'suin 9 them, is, that au object of this world is thus set before us as the aim and end of life. It seems to be the will of Christ that His followers should have no aim or end, pursuit or business, merely of this world. Here, again, I speak as before, not in the way of precept, but of doctrine. I am looking at His hbly religion as at a  Natt. xiii. 22. Luke xiv. 18, 19. 1 Tim. vi. 9, 10.

distance, and determining what is its general character and spirit, not what may happen to be the duty of this or tha.t individual who has embraced it. It is tIis will that all we do shouhl be done, not unto men, or to the world, or to self, but to llis glo W; and the more we are enal,led to do this simply, the more favoured we are. Whenever we act with reference to an object of this world, even though it be ever so pure, we are exposed to the temptation—(not irresistible, God forbid!) still to the temptation—of setting our hearts upon obtaining it. And therefore, we call all such objects excitcmctts, as stimulating us iucongruously, casting us out of the serenity and stability of heavenly fitith, attracting us aside by their 1)roximity from our harmonious round of duties, and making our thoughts convee to something short of that which is infinitely high and eternal. Such excitements are of perpetual occurrence, and the mere undergoing them, so far from involving guilt in the act itself or its results, is the great business of life and the discipline of our hearts. It is often a sin to withdraw froln t.hem, as has been the case of some perhaps who have gone into monasteries to serve God more entirely. On the other hand, it is the very duty of the Spiritual Ruler to labour for the flock committed to him, to suffer and to dare; St. Paul was encompassed with excitements hence arising, and his writings show the agitating effect of them on his mind. He was like David, a man of war and blood; and that for our sakes. Still it holds good that the essential spirit of the Gospel is '" quietness and confidence;" that the possession of these is the highest gift, and to gain them perfectly our main aim.

Consequently, however much a duty it is to undergo excitements when they are sent upon us, it is plainly unchristian, a manifest foolishness and sin, to seek out any such, whether secular or religious. Hence gaming is so great an offence; as being a presnptuous creation on our part of a serious, if not an overpowering temptation to fix the heart upon an object of this world. Hence, the mischief of nany amusements, of (what is called) the fashion of the day; which are devised for the very purpose of taking up the thoughts, and making time pass easy. Quite contrary is the Christian temper, which is in its perfect and peculiar enjoyment when engaged in that ordinary, unvaried course of duties which God assigns, and which the world calls dull and tiresome. To get up day after day to the same employments, and to feel happy in them, is the great lesson of the Gospel; and, when exemplified in those who are alive to the temptation of being busy, it implies a heart weaned from the love of this world. True it is that illness of body, as well as restlessness of mind, may occasionally render such a life a bnrden; it is true also that indolence, self-indulgence, timidity and other similar bad habits, may adopt it by preference, as a pretext for neglecting more active duties, hIen of energetic minds and talents for action are called to a life of trouble; they are the compensations and antagonists of the world's evils- still let them never forget their place; they are men of war, and we war that we may obtain peace. They are but men of war, hononred indeed by God's choice, and, in spite of all momentary excitements, resting in the depth of their hearts upon the One true Vision of Christian faith; still after all they are but soldiers in the qen field, not builders of the Temple, nor inhabitants of those " mniable" and specially blessed "Tal}eruacles" where the worshipper lives in praise and intercession, and is militant amid the unostentatious duties of ordiuary life. "Martha, Martha, thou art anxious and troubled about many things; but one tl,ing is needful, and Mary has chosen that good part which shall not be taken away from her. '' Such is our Lard's judgment, slmwing that our true happiness consists in being at leisure to serve God without eeitements. For this gift we especially pray in one of our Collects: "Grant, O Lord, that the course of this world may be so peaceably rdered by Thy govm'lmnee, that Thy Church may joyfully serve Thee in all godly quiethess. ''= Persecution, civil changes, and the like break in upon the Church's eahn. The greatest privilege of a Christian is to have nothing to do with worldly polities, to be governed and to submit obediently; and though here again selfishness may creep in, and lead a. man to neglect public concerns in which he is called to take his share, yet, after all, such participation must be regarded as a duty, scal'eely as a privilege, as the fulfilmeut of trusts committed to him fi_,r the good of others, not as the enjoyment of rights (as men talk iu these days of delusiou), not as if political power were in itself a good. To return to the subject immediately before us; 1 say then, that it is a part of Christian caution to see that our engagements do not become pursuits. EngagemenN are our portion, but pursuits are for the most  Luke x. 41, 42. = Me 1 Tim. ii. 2.

part of our own choosing. We may be engaged in worldly business, without pursuing worldly objects; "not slothfitl in business," yet "serving the Lord." In this then consists the danger of the pursuit of gain, as by trade and the like. It is the most common and widely extended of all excitements. It is one in which every one almost may indulge, nay, and will be praised by the world for indulging. And it lasts through life; in that differing from the amusements and pleasures of the world, which are short-lived, and succeed one after another. ] issipation of mind, which these amusements create, is itself indeed miserable enough: but far worse than this dissipation is the concentration of mind upon some worldly object, which admits of being constantly pursued,—and such is the pursuit of gain. Nor is it a slight aggravation of the evil, that anxiety is ahnost sure to attend it. A life of money-getting is a life of care; from the first there is a fearful anticipation of loss in various ways to depress and unsettle the mind; nay to haunt it, till a man finds he can think about nothing else, and is uua.ble to give his mind to religion, from the constant whia'l of business in which he is involved. It is well this should be understood. ]ou may hear men talk as if the pursuit of wealth was the business of life. They will argue, that by the law of nature a man is bound to gain a livelihood tbr his family, and that he finds a reward in doing so, an inuocent and honourable satisfaction, as he adds one sum to another, and counts up his gains. And perhaps they oo on to argue, that it is the very duty of man since Adam's fall, "in the sweat of his ihce," by eflbrt and anxiety, "to II] A A.

eat bread." How strange it is that they do not remember Christ's gracious promise, repealing that original curse, aud obviating fire necessity of any real pursuit after "the. meat that perisheth!" In order that we might be delivered from the bondage of corruption, He has expressly told us that the necessaries of life shall never fai IIis faithfifi follower, any more than the meal and oil the widow-woman of Sarepta; that, while he is bound to labour for his family, he need not be engrossed Iy his toil,tha.t while he is busy, his heart may be at leisure fir his Lord. "Be not anxious, saying, what shall we eat? or what shall we driuk? or wherewithal sha|l we be clothed? For after M1 these thiugs do the (lenti]cs seek; for yo.ur heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first the kingdom of God and l lis righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." Here is revealed to us at once our privilege aud our duty, the Christian portion of having engagements of this world without pursuing objects. And in accordance with our Divine Teacher are the words of the Apostle, introductoo of a passage already cited. "We brought nothing into this world, md it is certain we ca.n carry nothing out. And having tbod and raiment, let us therewith be content." There is no excuse then for theft absorbit/g pursuit of wealth, which mauy men indulge in as if a virtue, and expatiate upon as if a science. " After all these things do the Gentiles seek!" Consider how different is the rule of life left us by the Apostles. "I speak this for your own profit," says St. Paul, "that ye may attend upon the,  1Iatt. vi. 1 Tim. vi. 7, 8.

Lord, without distraction." "This I say, brethren, the time is short; it remaineth, that both they that have wives be as though they had none, and they that weep as though they wept not, and they that rejoice as though they rejoiced not, and they that buy as though they possessed not, and tley that use this world as not abusing it, for the fashion of this world passeth away." "Be anxious for nothing; but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God." And St. Peter, "Casting all your anxiety Ul)On Him, for I[e careth for you. '' I have now given the main reason why the pursuit of gain, whether in a large or small way, is prejudit:ial to our spiritual interests, that it fixes the mind upon an object of this world; yet others remain behind. Money is a sort of creation, and gives the acquirer, even more than the possessor, an imagination of his own power; and tends to make him idolize self. Again, what we have hardly won, we are unwilling to part with; so that a man who has himself made his wealth will commonly be penurious, or at least will not part with it except in exchange for what will reflect credit upon himself, or increase his importance. Even when his conduct is most disinterested and amiable (as in spending for the comfort of those who depend upon him), still this hdtdgence of self, of pride and worldliness, insinuates itself. Very unlikely therefore is it that he should be liberal towards God; for religious offerings are an expenditure without sensible return, and that upon objects for which  1 Cot. vii. 29—31, 35. Phil. iv. 6. 1 Pet. v. 7. AAg the very pursuit of wealth has indisposed his nfind. Moreover, if it may be added, there is a considerable tendency in occupations connected with gain to make a man unfair in his dealings,—that is, in a subtle way. There are so many conventional deceits and 1,revarications in the details of the world's business, so nmch intricacy in the management of accounts, so many perplexed questions about justice and equity, so many t,lausible subterfuges and fictions of law, so much confusion between the distinct yet approximating outlines of honesty mid civil enactment, that it requires a very straightforward mind to keep firm hold of strict conscientiousness, honour, and truth, and to look at matters iu which he is engaged, as he would have looked on them, supposing he now came upon them all at once as a stranger. And if such be the effect of the pursuit of gain on an individual, doubtless it will be the same on a nation; and if the peril be so great in the one case, why should it be less in the other? Rather, considering that the tendencies of things are sure to be brought out, where time and numbers allow them fair course, is it not certain that any multitude, any society of men, whose object is gain, will on the whole be actuated by those feelings, and moulded into that character; which has been above described? With this thought before us, it is a very fearflfl consideration that we belong to a nation which in good measure subsists by making money. I will not pursue it; nor inquire whether the especial political evils of the day have not their root in that principle, which St. Paul calls the root of all evil, the love of money. Only let us consider the fact, that we are money-nmking people, with our Saviour's declarations before us against wealth, and trust in wealth: aud we shall have abuudant matter for serious thought. Lastly, with this dreary view before us of our condition,and prospects as a nation, the pattern of St. Matthew is our consolation; f,,r it suggests that wc, Christ's ministers, may use grea.t freedom (,f spcech, and state um'eservedly the peril of wealth and gain, without aught of harshness or ur, charitableness to)wards individuals who are exposed to it. They may be brethren of the Evangelist, who left all for Christ's sake.:Nay, such there have been (blessed be God!) in every age; and in proportion to the strength of the temptation which surrounds them, is thcir blessedness and their praise, if they are enabled amid the "wares of the seas" and thc "great wisdom of their franc" to hear Christ's voice, to take up their cross, and follow Itim.

will which ststains it all; so does God's will enable t.o move also, yet this does not hinder, but, in one sense, we may be truly said to lnove ourselves: but how do the wind and water, earth and fire, move? Now here Scripture interposes, and seems to tell us, that all this wondcrfld harmony is the work of Angels. Those events which ve ascribe to chance as the weather, or to nature as tile seasons, are duties done to that God who maketh llis Angels to be winds, and ]lis Ministers a flame of fire. For example, it was an Angel which gave to the pool at Bethcsda its lnedicinal quality; and there is no reason why we should doubt that other health-sprilgs in this and other countries are made such 1)y a like unseen lninistry. The fires on Mount Sinai, the thunders and ]ightuings, were the work of Angels; and ill the Apocalypse we read of the Augels restrainiug the four winds. Works of vengeance are likewise attributed to them. The fiery lava of the w)lc,qnoes, which (as it appears) was the cause of Sodom and Gomorrah's ruin, was caused by the two Angels who rescued Lot. Tile hosts of Sennacherib were destroyed by an Angel, by lneans (it is supposed) tilence in lsrael when the work of an Angel.

of a suftbcating wind. Tile pes- David numbered tile people, was The earthquake at the resnrree- tion was the work of an Angel. And in the Apocalypse the earth is smitten in various ways by Angels of vengeance.  Thus, as far as the Scripture comumnicatious go, we learn flint the course of Nature, which is so wonderful, so beautifid, and so fearful, is effected by the ministr T of those unseen beings. Nature is not inanimate; its daily toil is intelligent; its works are d:tics. Accordingly, the l'sahnist says, "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth His handy-work." " O Lord, Thy word endureth for ever in heaven. Thy truth also remaiieth from one generation to another; Thou hast laid the foundation of the earth, and it abideth. They continue this day according to Thine ordinance, for all thigs scrrc Thee. '' I do not pretend to say, that we are told in Scripture what Mttter is; but I arm, that as our souls move our bodies, be our bodies what they may, so there are Spiritual Intelligences which move those wonderful and vast poions of the natural world which seem to be inanimate; and as the gestures, speech, and expressive countenances of our friends around us enable us to hold intercourse with thein, so in the motions of universal Nature, in the interchange of day and night, SUlmner and winter, wind and storm, fidfilling tlis word, we are reminded of the blessed and dutifid Angels. Well then, on- this day's Festival, lnay we sing the hymn of those Three Holy Children whom Nebuchadnezzar cast into the fiery furnace. The Angels were bid to change the nature of the flame, and make it harmless to theln; and they in turn called on all the creatures of God, on the Angels especially, to glorify Him. Though many hundreds of yea.rs have passed since that time, and the world now vainly thinks it knows more than it did, and  Ps. xix. 1; cxix. 89—91.

given a name to. At length he forms a theory, and recommends it in writing, and calls himself a philosopher.:Now all these theories of science, which I speak of, are usefifl, as classifying, and so assisting us to recollect, the works and ways of God and of His ministering Angels. And again, they are ever most useful, in enabling" us to ()ly the course of 1 Iis providence, and the ordinances of His will, to the benefit of man. Thus we are enabled t( enjoy (;od's gifts; and let us thank Him for the knowledge which enables us to do so, and honour those who are IIis in.tnments in communicating it. But if such a one proceeds to inmgine that, because he kllOWS something of this world's wonderful order, he therefore knows how things really go on, if he treats the miracles of:Nature (so to call them) as mere mechanic;d processes, continuing their course by themselves,—as works of man's contriving (a clock, for instance)are set in motion, and go on, as it were, of themselves,—if in consequence he is, wha may be called, irreverent ia his conduct towards Nature, thinking (if I may so speak) that it does not hear him, and see how he is 1,earing himself towards it; and moreover, he conceives that the Order of Xature, which he partially discerns, will stand in the place of the God who nmde it, and that all things continue and move on, not by His will and power, and the agency of the thousands and ten thousands of Itis unseen Servants, but by fixed laws, self-caused and self-sustained, what a poor weak worm and miserable sinner he becomes! Yet snch, I fear, is the condition of many men nowadays, who talk loudly, and appear to themselves and others to