us above the brutes, while we want seriousness and earnestness of mind. I once again entreat you, not to divest yourselves of that quality, without which the sagest of the heathens believed all strength, all goodness, all greatness, to be impossible. I entreat you once again, not to drag on an existence, languid and yet impatient, fluttering and yet supine, trivial and yet fretful, with the affections petrified, and the life-blood of the heart congealed. I entreat you once again, to put away that wretched levity, which must feel even itself to be 'a sham;' yet which is the bane and canker of our reasonable and our religious faculties; which leaves our impotent and dreary life without scope, purpose, or interest, and consigns our whole being to the feeblest and most contemptible insignificance. It can have no element in it, that is real, solid, or consistent; for it is entirely opposed to the best impulses and highest dictates of our nature. It cannot be a true wisdom or philosophy, a just view of man and of the world; for it makes truth equivalent to falsehood; it causes all evil to be rampant; it enthrones error, ignorance, barbarities, miseries, in undisturbed possession of the whole earth, without remedy, redress, or mitigation. It cannot be acceptable, it must be offensive, to God; for it exists in opposition to the intellect and the conscience, which He has implanted in us, and in contemptuous defiance of the revealed word, which He has vouchsafed to give us. But I may have said too much, and I cannot trust myself to say more. Oh, for the sake of manhood! Oh, for the love of God! let us be earnest about something; let us covet earnestly the best gifts. Be fervent in spirit, serving the Lord.' It is the Lord who demands our service. It is the Lord whose work we have to do. Fervour in vanities and profligacies is guilt indeed. But

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a man, whose spirit is fervent in the cause of Divine righteousness, is a spectacle over which angels rejoice, over which God himself rejoices. Wherefore, brethren, be ye steadfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord; forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.'

SERMON XIII.

ON THE PASSIVE VIRTUES.

ECCLESIASTES VII. 8.

The patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.

W

E are now entering that solemn week, which de

rives its name from the passion of our Redeemer ; and we have prayed, in the Collect of this day1, for grace to follow the example of His patience.' It is true, indeed, that, as our Lord's sufferings were greater than any which we can be called to endure, so his behaviour in the midst of them exhibits a transcendent perfection beyond any which we can hope to reach. The excellence, however, which, viewed in its full extent, is altogether inimitable, still may be, and ought to be, regarded, not only with a profound and devout reverence, but also with a steadfast determination, God helping us, to learn and obey the sacred lessons which it teaches.

The occasion must, at any rate, be a favourable one for a general, though very brief, consideration of those passive virtues, which the world is apt to disparage or overlook; but which are, in the eye of heaven, of great price; and which, most of all, perhaps, do honour to the Christian profession, and characterize the saints of

1 The Sunday next before Easter.

God. For you can scarcely require to be told, that the whole of the New Testament is, in one sense, little more than an illustration and expansion of this aphorism in the Old, 'The patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.'

The simple assertion of the text, however, is almost too plain to need further enforcement: pride, being directly the opposite of the Christian temper; patience, being its best exemplification; pride, being the quality most offensive to God, and most unfit for man; patience, being the grace which the Gospel most recommends, and which most, perhaps, in its turn recommends the Gospel. And yet, if we look at things on a broad scale, what do we behold? The epidemic intoxication about war and warlike glory, although we may trust it is gradually subsiding, has not passed away. But, so long as this fever continues among mankind, it is virtually, if not expressly denied, that the patient in spirit are better than the proud in spirit. If any man in any public assembly, in any quarter of the globe, were to enjoin patience and forbearance upon a people, advising them to put up the sword, and yield a contested point to some rival empire, the probability is, that his single voice would be drowned in the general outcry about national honour, and the cowardice, the disgrace, the ruin, of submitting to the shadow of an injury. An aggressive policy is still, I believe, more popular in all states, than any measure which takes the shape of concession. You will observe, that I am here merely asserting what I suppose to be a fact, without arguing any question of right or expediency.

And as it is still with nations, in spite of Peace-Societies, so is it still with individuals, in spite of Anti-duelling Societies. A readiness to avenge is still, for the

most part, held in higher esteem than a readiness to endure; haughtiness than self-abasement; a retort, than an apology; and what is called a spirited reply, than the soft answer which turneth away wrath: so that if men, even Christian men, at this very period, spoke their real sentiments, they would oftentimes be inclined to reverse the saying of the Preacher, and declare that the proud in spirit is better than the patient in spirit.

But I have said, that it is not so much any particular kind of patience, as the passive virtues in general, which we are to-day invited to consider. I have also said, that these are frequently depreciated or forgotten in the world. The world does not sufficiently discern their beauty and their value; the necessity for their cultivation; or the vast scope which exists for their exercise and development. And no wonder! Passive virtue is usually a retired thing, which is not visible amid the crowd and shock of men; a silent thing, which does not utter its cry, like the sound of a trumpet, in the streets. The more signal and conspicuous instances of it are, indeed, admired and recorded, as when the martyr stands intrepid and uncomplaining amidst the flames; or when the patriot lays his head, with manly courage, on the block, and resigns himself with an unblanched cheek to the stroke of the executioner. But these are the rare and splendid exceptions. The opportunities for this sublime, or rather, perhaps, this more dazzling fortitude, can hardly be of frequent occurrence; and passive virtue, in itself, rather avoids, than courts, these public triumphs. In the mean time, the attention of the world is occupied and almost engrossed by those other qualities, which are officiously presenting and loudly enforcing their claims. More especially, in an age and country such as ours, an age and country of excite