he seems, he will persevere in the forthright course of duty, for he can always say,—'I am not alone, because the Father is with me.'

Fourthly In seasons of affliction the power of this sentiment is experienced by the good man. I am aware that the disposition is quite too common to associate the thought of religious support only with the hour of grief, and with occasions of sorrow, as if it were a sort of last refuge, to which recourse is to be had when everything else fails, but not till then. The effect of this error is in every respect bad. It wrongs religion by connecting it with none but dark and sad scenes, instead of representing it as-what in truth it is-the light and the joy of life; and doubtless many of the poor and gloomy conceptions of Christianity, which are prevalent, may be traced to this source. This mistake likewise robs religion of the power belonging to it even in those seasons of affliction, to which its presence is supposed to be confined; for its consolations are not to be taken up when the hour of extremity arrives, and to be laid aside when that hour is passed; they must grow out of a deeply fixed and familiar principle, long cherished and fondly loved, present at one time as well as at another, in joy as in sorrow, in health as in sickness, in prosperity as in adversity. And this is the manner, in which the presence of God is with the spirit of the good man under the pressure of affliction. Therefore he finds it peculiarly a friend in time of need, when the eye looks round in vain on the world for something to soothe and sustain. When darkness gathers on the earthly side of his condition, he can look to the other side, and find the strong and clear light of hope; when pain and disappointment enter deeply into his portion, he can turn,

with the instinctive readiness of habitual piety, to that region where pain and disappointment shall enter no more; when the bonds of human affection are broken by the hand of death, he can retain his hold upon those ties, which cannot be severed; he believes, as has been finely said, that God who in wisdom and mercy governs the world, would never have suffered so many sadnesses, and have sent them especially to the most virtuous and the wisest men, but that he intends they should be the seminary of comfort, the nursery of virtue, the exercise of wisdom, the trial of patience, the venturing for a crown, and the gate of glory.' Therefore, however solitary he may seem to the world, the good man can say, even in the midst of desolation-'I am not alone, because the Father is with me.'

Fifthly: The feeling of unreserved trust comes to the help of the Christian, when the hour of death approach、es. I do not mean, that some striking, outward manifestation of this feeling is always to be expected at that time, even from the good. Few things are more disgusting, and few perhaps have done more harm to the cause of real religion, than the extravagances, which have been acted and admired in death-bed scenes. When we consider the weakness and the pains of the body at such a crisis, and the various circumstances which, on the one hand, may disable the mind for taking up the truths of religion in their beauty, freshness, and strength, or on the other hand may lend to these truths a feverish, tumultuous interest for the moment, without indicating a truly sound and pure state of the heart,—we shall see that this is not the time to test infallibly the sincerity and permanent power of Christian principles in the soul. Still, every one, who has been much con

versant with mankind, has probably witnessed instances, in which the presence of God in the heart has given strength in the hour of weakness, relief in the hour of suffering, and a hope full of gladness and support in the hour of death. It promises no raptures, no noisy exultation; but it promises what is far better, the unfailing consolation derived from principles, which are the same yestarday, to-day, and forever. Often has there been seen on the death-bed of the Christian, a quiet, calm, sustaining power of faith, which touches the heart of those who look upon it with an elevating influence, like that of the better world. Certainly it must affect every well regulated mind far more deeply, than all the outcry and all the spiritual exultation in the world. If there be a moment, when things are estimated at their real value, it must be when we are about to pass the dividing line, which separates this state of being from the untried and mysterious state beyond. The world, with those transient concerns in which perhaps we once took an intense interest, will vanish like the pictures presented in a dream; and the candidate for eternity will be left alone. But that is the hour, when the good man can say—' yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me.'

Mere illustrations, of a kindred nature, might be added; but, after the views which have been presented, they will readily suggest themselves to your thoughts. In what I have said on this subject, it has been my purpose to leave upon your minds something like an adequate sense of the value of that state of the heart, which enables us to realize the presence of God with us, as the presence of an Almighty Friend. Truly may we say of it-'man knoweth not the price thereof;'—

for it gives a new aspect to the whole of life, and throws its bright and relieving light on the pathway that leads through the grave. But let me entreat you to remember, that this quickening and life-giving influence is to be expected, not from any temporary swell of feeling even though it may occur frequently, but from a habit of the soul,—a habit firmly fixed and watchfully kept alive. That presence of God with the good man, of which I have spoken in this discourse, is not to be found in some transient gleam of piety in the breast, nor in those good impressions, which come and go like the shadows of summer clouds passing over the field, and leaving no trace behind them, but in a decided and abiding aptness of the heart for the reception of the Spirit of Purity from above, in a permanent religious character, in that prevailing cast of thought and sentiment, which shall link our moral nature in the fast and strong ties of love and trust to Him, by whom that nature was bestowed upon us. us. If, then, you would not turn aside the hand of mercy, which from on high offers to you beautiful hopes and imperishable rewards, if you would not chain the soul down to that poor service, which dies with the body, let me beseech you to cherish the presence of God here, that you may dwell with Him hereafter. Then your life will have a high and solemn meaning then the brightness of your path shall go on to the perfect day; then your course shall be that, which leads the children of light forward, and at the same time upward, without end. Thou, O God, wilt show us the path of life; in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand are pleasures forevermore.

SERMON IX.

BY REV W. B. O. PEABODY, SPRINGFIELD, MASS.

THE NEW COMMANDMENT. .

JOHN XIII. 34. A NEW COMMANDMENT I GIVE UNTO YOU, THAT YE

LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

This command was not strictly new,-and our Saviour did not so describe it. Infidels say and say truly that it had been enjoined many ages before. All he means is this; he says to his disciples-I have already given you some directions and now I give you a new one; a charge to love one another. He thought perhaps before that they could not need this charge,-compelled as they were to lean upon each other, he thought that their harmony could not be broken. But he looked through their hearts with the searching brightness of an immortal eye; he saw that feelings of rivalship and ambition were springing up-he charges them to resist such passions, reminding them that all depends on their affection to each other.

If you are not satisfied that this was all his meaning, I might show that as he gave it this was a new and original command. By loving others he meant something