mind, to the alternations of presumption and despondency; the folly of man, and the very "taking thought” forbidden by our Lord.* It is against this double danger, that our Lord would secure us, by calling us to behold and consider the fowls of the air and the lilies of the field, that without hindrance and with all advantage, we may "seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness."

The condition of the present life, I say, renders us liable to this double danger. If any part of our raiment be lacking: if the feet or the limbs, or the body be exposed to the scorching sun, or to the chills of even a summer evening, or to the piercing cold of winter, we are proportionately distressed, and our sufferings need but small increase and short continuance in order to be fatal. If food be lacking only in part, and for a brief season, we suffer intensely: and a few days of fasting destroys the life, and sends the body back to its original dust.

Amidst necessities so great exposing us to sufferings so intense and fatal, what uncertainty of supply ! The materials of our food and raiment depend upon natural agents, varying and uncertain, over which we have no control. The sun and the rain by whose influence the flax and the cotton, and the food of the sheep and the silk-worm and of man grow, are entirely without the reach of our feeble powers. If heat and moisture be defective, we cannot increase them,

The context both in Matthew and Luke, requires this strict adherence to the true import of Μεριμνάω,

nor lessen them if they be excessive. We cannot turn back the overwhelming flood when the bottles of heaven are kept open, nor soften the parched earth with refreshing showers, when "the heavens are brass over our heads." Nor can we hinder the frost which, in a night, may destroy the hopes of the summer; nor the hail nor the lightning, which may cut off the waving or the gathered crops. Nay: we cannot secure to ourselves a supply, even amidst a general abundance. We have no control over the great store-houses of food and raiment which God in mercy may have filled, nor over the channels by which they are conducted to each man's door. Here again, all is uncertainty: the poor, depending upon a daily renewal of the means of life, are uncertain of employment, or payment, or continued health and strength, and have constant occasion for anxiety. And the rich: there are none so rich in farms, or goods, or money, as to be absolutely sure of food to eat, and raiment to put on, or above the occasion of anxiety in view of the daily wants of their bodies. Men engaged in lucrative and extensive business, even while growing richer and richer, are exposed to the hazards of fire, and wind, and water-to lightning and tempests-to the changes in the policy of communities and nations; to dishonesty and fraud, and to ignorance, weakness and folly, their own and other men's. Even capitalists, who seem seated quietly in the enjoyment of wealth, have no security against the hazards of unemployed, depreciated, or sunken capital; - cannot prevent their riches from

taking wings and flying away. The fear of "coming to want," which assails the rich, is not absurd ; is not to be always attributed to Hypochondria: in a sense it is reasonable — is according to the uncertainty which God has ordered to belong to all conditions of men.

But here we notice the other element of our condition. Though food and raiment are entirely above our reach, and we can never be sure beforehand that they will be supplied, yet for the most part they are supplied in connection with our own plan and effort — with our own skill and diligence; and thus, amidst occasions of anxiety, we live for the most part also amidst occasions of self-confidence of glorying in our own wisdom and strength. This is of course the exposure of the prosperous, the successful, the rich and of the poor; - even poverty has its "trust in riches," its vaunting of its skill.

We have but to survey a few short months, for a conspicuous display of the double danger - might I not say the double fault?-the self-confidence and the despair "the taking thought" of which we are always liable to be guilty. A year has not passed, since, perhaps as a people, whatever may have been the individual exceptions, we were sitting in our pride, vaunting ourselves of our wisdom, wealth and power. We saw indeed the casual and ordinary lessons of uncertainty to all human things, but without reflection, other perhaps than reproach for the neglects or follies which we assigned as their cause; and still passed on

in our heedless self-glorying, until we were suddenly arrested on our heights of prosperity-not a few to be cast down and all to stand trembling and anxious on the precipice. What multitudes were taken by surprise, so lately sure of success in affairs by their own wisdom and might-how soon desponding at the sudden blast of all human hope!

Here, then, we stand yet not amidst hindrances and disadvantages; but, as we have said, to hear our Savior's call to consider the fowls of the air and the lilies of the field, that without hindrance, and with all advantage, we may "seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness."

In this discourse, I propose to notice the divine provision for the fouls of the air, as a lesson to our faith: "They neither sow, nor reap, nor gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feedeth them." This mysterious feeding, is the thing to be considered ; concerning which, we may notice the following particulars:

1. God provides for them their food, without their toil or care. "They neither sow nor reap."

What store-houses of plenty for the birds, are the air, the earth, the sea! Insects innumerable swarm in the air, breathed in, we might almost say, in their rapid flight. These lodge and live amidst the herbs and shrubs and trees, and are found wherever birds alight. Fruits, nuts and seeds, in countless variety and abundance, the spontaneous gifts of nature, or the labored products of human industry, cover the face of

the earth-valley and plain and mountain top; and morasses inaccessible to man; and wherever the carcass is, as innumerable creatures lie wasting to dust, there also are the eagles and the ravens, and all birds of prey, gathered together. Beneath the surface of the ground, also, is a store-house for the fowls of the air: and every furrow of the ploughman opens supplies for the birds, that alight and feed along his path. And the sea shows to the eye of the water-fowl, as it sails on high, the treasures of its transparent chambers ; "wherein are things creeping innumerable," whether about the shores for the sea-gull and the snipe, or in the deep and wide ocean, for the albatross. What a variety of provision do we see before our own eyes! The flowers have already begun to open their honey-cup, for the humming bird. The insects float in the air, inviting the martin and the swallow. Every farm and every garden has opened its internal treasures; and the hands of men and the winds are scattering the seeds of the former year, for the robin and the black-bird ; and the tide ebbing and flowing calls the sea-bird to his prey.

But these store-houses, the air, the earth, the sea, are supplied, how marvellously, by your heavenly Father! "He openeth his hand and satisfieth the wants of every living thing." How lately the earth was icebound, and lay desolate in all the barrenness of winter! But He sent forth his commandment upon earth; his word ran very swiftly. The earth, travelling her wonted course more than a thousand miles a minute,