not, of both sexes, in your own community, who have learned the secret of not living to themselves; who, without neglecting their worldly business, find no little time to give to the spiritual interests of their fellow-creatures; and some who make it a part of the economy of their life to go around at regular intervals among the habitations of wretchedness, as ministers of peace and consolation. No, brethren, notwithstanding the general apathy that prevails in the church, and the multitude of cases in which its members openly and flagrantly dishonor a Christian profession, I have no fear of not being able to illustrate my position, if I should be called to do it, by living examples. There are in the bosom of the church now, even now, when the love of many waxes cold, some at least, who are not weary of welldoing.

2. The Christian is mighty to resist. The spiritual life, so long as the natural life lasts, is an uninterrupted scene of conflict. The Christian would fain be at peace; but his enemies will not let him alone. He may be in the world engaged in his lawful business; he may be at home in the bosom of domestic quiet and comfort; he may be in the church a devout and earnest worshipper; he may be in the closet, where no eye sees him but that of his Father in Heaven; and yet in any or all of these conditions he is accessible by his spiritual foes. The world is one of these foes, in every attractive form into which it can throw itself: the prince of the power of the air is another; and he associates with himself we know not how many kindred agents: and last, though not least, that set of enemies which he harbors in his own bosom, his own inward corruptions, sometimes act upon his comfort with most terrible effect. But be his enemies what they may, and be they where they may, the true Christian, with his armor on, dares to encounter them. With the sword of the Spirit, with the breastplate of righteousness, with the guide of truth, with the helmet of salvation, he enters the conflict with confidence, and he retires from it with triumph. I do not say that he always triumphs; but it is his own fault if he does not; and in general the life of the true Christian is made up, in a great measure, of a succession of victorious conflicts.

3 The Christian is mighty to endure. What else is the whole record of Christian martyrdom, but a record of glorious triumphs in connection with the dying agony? See that man dressed for a conflict with the fire. The terrible arrangement for the last scene is now fully made. The stake to which he is to be bound, the faggots which are to take hold of his flesh, and the fire which is to set them at their work, are all in his view. And now he is asked for the last time, whether he is willing to abjure Christ; and he answers, as if he spoke from the depths of a lion's heart, "No," and that "No," is gratefully responded

to by a voice from the crowd, the voice of one who stands ready to die with him, the voice of his own beloved wife, bidding him be courageous, and play the man in his martyrdom. And there he stands, calmly, triumphantly, perhaps even praising God in the fire; and there she stands, with her eyes lifted to Heaven, and suffused with tears of thankfulness, that her husband is enabled to die so glorious a death.

And this is only a specimen of a multitude of cases that show what strength there is in the heart of a martyr. But we need not go to the history of martyrs to illustrate our position: in the more ordinary scenes of suffering we are often surprised by an exhibition of fortitude that would seem adequate to the endurance of anything. I have seen the naturally timid female, so courageous in the passage through the dark valley, that I have said to myself: "There is a spirit of noble daring there that death in any form is too feeble to vanquish; that heart would keep on beating courageously even amidst the tortures of the rack." I have seen a mother dying with a cluster of little children at her bedside; and their father was there too in the wretchedness of a vagabond and a sot: and her eyes had not seen the light for many years before the darkness of death came over her; and yet her dying hour was like an hour of jubilee; she lay upon that bed of straw, and clasped her withered hands, and moved her sightless eyeballs, and the last expressions that escaped her lips were expressions of thankfulness, of triumph, of transport. You must keep away from such scenes as these if you would doubt the Christian's power to endure; but scenes at least similar to these in their general character are occurring everywhere: and each of them is a witness to the truth which I am endeavoring to present to you.

II. Thus much may suffice to illustrate the Christian's strength; we will now, secondly, contemplate the source from which, and the medium through which, it is communicated. The apostle, in our text, refers it immediately to Christ-"I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me."

Christ is here, no doubt, to be contemplated in the character of mediator. In this character he has all power in heaven and on earth committed to him. Hereby he is qualified to be the head of the church, and to guard all its interests, to manage all its concerns, to supply all its wants. Hereby especially he becomes, not only to the church at large, but to every individual member, the fountain of all strength. It is through the working of his mighty power that each becomes a subject of his kingdom on earth, and ultimately reaches such a spiritual stature as to be admitted to his kingdom in heaven. The administering of strength to the saints, then, belongs peculiarly to the Saviour: it is part of the reward which crowns his mediatorial sufferings. I remark, then,

1. In the first place, that Christianity, by which I here mean the system of truth revealed in the Gospel, appeals to our sense of obligation by the authority which it claims. If an individual should require any service at your hands, which you knew he had no authority to require, you would of course deny his right, and would feel no obligation to yield to the requirement; but if the command, besides being reasonable in itself, should come to you clothed with a legitimate authority; if, for instance, it should be a command from a parent to a child, or from a magistrate to a subject, you could not fail to recognize the obligation to obey; and while this sense of obligation would embarrass you in the purpose to disobey, the spirit of obedience would as certainly find in it an important auxiliary. Let a man feel that what he is about to do is right, that it is in full accordance with his inmost convictions of duty, and it will nerve him with a resolution and energy which he could scarcely look for under other influences. Now remember that Christianity claims a Divine authority-all that it commands, God commands-the God who is our Creator and Preserver and sovereign Proprietor, and whom therefore we are bound to obey by the strongest possible obligations. In doing what he requires of us, we know, beyond a peradventure, that we are acting right; that we are acting in accordance with the dignity of our nature; acting in a manner that will abide the strictest inward test, either now or in any future period of our existence. And who needs be told that in the consciousness of being governed by such high motives, must be bound up the elements of mighty power? What made Daniel so fearless to encounter the lions' den? What made the three young men so fearless to be cast into the furnace? What made the martyrs so fearless when they sung upon the rack? What makes many a man at this day so undaunted, so persevering, in following the Master through evil report? Ah, the secret of it all is, the inward consciousness that they are doing right; the voice from within, witnessing for them that that dark path, as the case may be, that bloody path, is the path of God's commandments.

2. Christianity appeals to our fears by the terrors which it announces. Fear is one of the most active of all the passions; it was designed by the Creater to put us on our guard against evil; and no small part of our safety in the present world depends upon its operation. Of the powerful influence which this passion exerts, there are practical illustrations passing before our eyes every day. Yonder is an individual who is afraid of losing his property. See how intensely and continually it keeps his faculties in operation; how readily he deprives himself of rest, and even of food, in order to neutralize the influences which are at work to render him a poor man.

Yonder

is another who is in danger of losing his good name: notice the watchfulness, the earnestness, the deep anxiety with which he labors to defend himself against either the just or the unjust imputations that are made upon him. Yonder is another who has committed some desperate deed, for which he knows that he is liable to extreme punishment: how the fear of being brought to justice tortures him by day and by night-how it keeps him upon the alert to observe everything that would seem to indicate the probability of detection-how it reconciles him to making his bed in the bosom of the forest, and carries him through the darkness of the night, as if on the wings of the wind, into far distant regions! And if fear operates so powerfully in respect to these lesser evils, what must be its operation in respect to those greater evils, which the Bible assures us are to constitute the final portion of the ungodly? All these evils are concentrated in one-the loss of the soul: but what untold misery, what depth of anguish and wailing, the loss of the soul involves, it must be left to the ages of eternity to reveal. But you will say, perhaps, that this consideration can exert no influence upon the Christian, inasmuch as he, in virtue of being a true Christian, is beyond the reach of these tremendous evils. But is he certain that he really sustains the character? Is it not true in respect to the great mass, even of those whose religious character shines the brightest, that they never have that full assurance of hope that casts out all fear; while not a few are habitually in doubt concerning the evidences of their discipleship? Did not even Paul himself fear lest, after all his labors and sufferings in the cause of Christ, he should prove a cast-away; and has he not exhorted Christians to fear lest a promise being left of entering into rest, they should seem to come short of it? If then the professed followers of Christ have just reason to doubt whether theirs be the genuine Christian experience, they have the same reason to fear lest they should find tribulation and anguish awaiting them in the next world. Must not the reflection that this is even possible, stimulate them to the highest efforts of which they are capable, in order to avoid it? Whose ear does not tingle, whose heart does not tremble, at that terrible declaration, "Who can inhabit everlasting burnings!"

3. Christianity appeals to our hopes by the rewards which it proposes. Is not the hope of reward the spring of a large part of the labor which men undergo in the present life? What makes that poor man so patient and steady at his daily work? It is the hope of being able to return home with bread for his wife and children. What makes that student so intensely occupied with his books; even wasting his physical energies, and preparing for himself a premature grave, because he will not relax from intellectual toil? It is the hope of acquiring large

stores of knowledge, and of having a bright name in the walks of literature and science. What makes that politician so anxious, and busy, and patriotic, and complaisant to everybody, in the prospect of an election? Why it is that he hopes a good use will be made at the polls of his own name; and he thinks how gracefully he shall wear those laurels, if they can only be obtained. But all that the mere man of the world can hope for, compared with the object of the Christian's hopes, fades into insignificance. The peace, and the joy, and the triumph, which the Christian has a right to anticipate, in life and in death, were worthy to be an object of most diligent seeking; but the glory that is beyond the veil, some beams of which now and then fall upon the eye of a vigorous faith; the glorified faculties, and the glorified employments, and the glorified society, and the glorified wisdom-all, all that is included in the idea of heaven-oh! who can measure the value of such an object of pursuit as this? And yet nothing less than this is embraced by the Christian's hope. And shall the baubles of earth set the men of the world upon a course of the most laborious effort, and do you suppose that the substantial and immortal glories of heaven shall not waken up the inmost energies of the Christian's soul? Believe me, there is that in the heavenly portion that will not suffer the heart that longs for it to beat sluggishly-there must be, there will be, active and earnest effort awakened in view of it; and where no such effort is actually awakened, we need no higher evidence that the heart has never been quickened to heavenly impulses.

4. Christianity appeals to our confidence by the aids which. it proffers. If an individual has projected a great enterprise that requires a vast amount of earnest thought and laborious effort, and yet he finds no one coming to his aid for the prosecution of it, but feels that he must address himself to it singlehanded, depending entirely upon his own resources, he is very likely to be deterred from entering upon it at all; or, even if he does enter upon it, he will probably soon become discouraged and abandon it altogether. But if, on the other hand, he finds himself surrounded by all the necessary aids for the prosecution of his work, he sets himself to it with zeal and alacrity; and the consciousness that all the means which he requires to carry it forward are at hand, nerves his arm with unwonted vigor, and conveys not only to himself but to others a sure pledge of success. Now, how is it with the Christian? Is he called to perform a work, without the adequate means being provided for him? Let the ordinances and institutions of Christianity answer. What is going forward here at this hour? Why you are listening to that very truth in which the power of God unto salvation resides; you are mingling your