society, where almost every one is too much occupied with his own advancement to think of pining merit; it is left to silent and solitary hours of discouragement and despondency. And in such hours—perhaps there are some here present who can bear me witnessthe thoughts that sink deeply into the heart, though never it may be, breathed in words, are such as these: "My chance in this world, is a poor one; I have neither wealth, nor talents, nor family; I have nothing to give me importance; I have no friends to help me forward, or to introduce me favourably to the world; I have no path open to me; my succees is poor, even my expectation is poor. Let the fortunate be thankful, but I am not fortunate; the great prizes are not for me; despond I needs must, for hope I have none; I will sit down in silence, and eat the bread of a neglected lot; I will weep; but even that is useless; away then, hope! away tears!-I will bear my heart calmly, though sadly, in its way, through a cold, ungenial, unkind world."

And yet above this man is spread the sublimity of heaven, around him the beauty of earth; to this man is unfolded the vision of God; for this man Christ hath died, and to him, heaven is unveiled; before this man lies the page of wisdom and inspiration; and wisdom and sanctity, it is still given him to learn and gain; wisdom and sanctity, inward, all-sufficing and eternal. The universe is full and rich for him. The heaven of heavens invites him to its abode !

Oh! the intolerable worldliness of the world!—the worldliness of fashion and fashionable opinion! the worldliness of our eager throngs, and our gay watering-places, and our crowded cities, and our aspiring literature, and our busy commerce! Distinction! to be raised a little above the rest; to be talked of and

pointed at, more than others; this hath blinded us to the infinite good that is offered to all men. And this distinction; what is it, after all? Suppose that you were the greatest of the great; one raised above kings; one to whom courts and powers and principalities paid homage, and around whom admiring crowds gathered at every step. I tell you that I would rather have arrived at one profound conclusion of the sage's meditation in his dim study, than to win that gaze of the multitude. I tell you that I had rather gain the friendship and love of one pure and lofty mind, than to gain that empty applause of a court or a kingdom. What then must it be to gain the approval, the friendship, the love of that ONE, infinitely great-infinitely dear to the whole pure and happy creation?

Before these awful and sublime realities of truth and sanctity, sink! all worldly distinction, and worldly imaginations! Discouragement and despondency!

for a creature to whom God hath offered the loftiest opportunity and hope in the universe? A humble, depressed, unfortunate lot!-for him, before whom are spread the boundless regions of truth, and wisdom, and joy? A poor chance!-for him who may gain heaven? Ah! sir, thy poverty, thy misfortune, is all in thyself. In the realm of God's beneficence, is an infinite fullness; and it all may be yours. Even to the despised and persecuted Christians of old the Apostle said this; and it is still, and for ever true, to all who can receive it. "Therefore," says he, in his lofty reasoning, "let no man glory in men; for all things are yours; whether the world, or life, or death, or things present or things to come; all are yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's!"

XII.

ON INEQUALITY IN THE LOT OF LIFE.

THE LORD IS GOOD TO ALL, AND HIS TENDER MERCIES ARE OVER ALL HIS WORKS.-Psalm cxlv. 9.

WHAT I wish to suggest for your consideration from these words, is not the goodness of God only, but his goodness to all. I wish, in other words, to examine the prevailing opinion, that there is a great inequality in the distribution of the blessings of life. In opposition to this opinion, I take up the words of the text.

The Lord is good to all. It is not said merely that his tender mercies are over his works, but that they are over all his works. His providence is not only kind, but its kindness extends to every human being.

There is no general view of life, perhaps, with which the minds of men are more strongly impressed, than with the apparent inequalities of the human lot. It is probably the most prolific source of all secret repining and open complaint. Affliction of a severe kind, comes but seldom; but this inequality in the state of life is permanent. It is perfectly obvious too. Every one can see the difference between his situation in life, his dwelling, his equipage, and the observance which is paid to him; and those which belong to his more prosperous, wealthy or honoured neighbour. The distinctions of life, indeed, chiefly consist of the glare of outward things, and therefore more powerfully impress the senses.

Now if it can be made to appear that there is in fact, considerable deception in these estimates; that things are far more impartially balanced in the system of providence at large, than is commonly imagined; that inequality is not the rule of its operations, but only the exception to the rule; it would serve the important purpose of making us more contented with our lot; more happy in the opportunities and means of happiness that are given to us all; and more submissive and grateful, I would hope, to that Being who has so equally and so bountifully distributed them.

To this subject then, let me direct your thoughts this morning.

I. And in the first place you see, at once, an instance and an illustration of this impartiality of Divine Providence, in the inequalities caused by nature; in the allotments of climate, temperature, soil and scenery.

There is no one of us, perhaps, whose thoughts have not sometimes wandered to fairer climes than our own, to lands of richer productions and more luxuriant beauty; to those isles and shores of the classic East, where all the glory of man has faded indeed, where all the monuments of his power and art have fallen to decay, but where nature lives forever, and forever spreads its unfading charm; to the verdant and sunny vales of the South, regions of eternal Spring, where the circling seasons, as they pass, let fall no chill nor blight upon the fresh and fragrant bosom of the earth. But is there no counterpart to this scene? Where does the volcano lift up its subterraneous thunders, and pour forth its flaming deluge? It is in these very regions of eternal Spring. It is on the green and flowery mount, on the vine-clad hills; fast by the quiet fold of the shepherd, and amidst the rejoicings of the vintage. Whence comes the fearful rumour of

the earthquake, that has whelmed a city in ruins? It comes from the land of the diamond and the cane; from the hills of Ophir; from groves of the palm and the olive; from valleys loaded with fruits, and fanned with aromatic gales; where if nature is more energetic to produce, she is also more energetic to destroy. Where does the dire pestilence walk in darkness, and the fell destruction waste at noon-day? Amidst groves of spices, and beneath bowers of luxuriance; and the beam that lights its victims to their tomb, is the brightest beam of heaven, and the scenes of which they take their last hasty leave, are the fairest that nature displays; as if life and death were intended to be set in the most visible and vivid contrast. And where, but there also, is that worse than plague and pestilence and earthquake, that degradation of the mind, that wide-spreading pestilence of the soul, that listless indolence, which only arouses, to deeds of passion! Let the millions of Southern Asia tell. Let Turkey, so often drenched with blood, answer. Let the wandering Arab, let the stupid Hottentot, let the slothful and sensual inhabitants of the fair isles of the Pacific, teach us. Who would not rather struggle with fiercer elements, than to sink an ignoble prey to the soft languors of pleasure and the besotting indulgences of passion? Who would not far prefer our wintry storm and "the hoarse sighings of the East wind," as it sweeps around us, if they will brace the mind to nobler attainments, and the heart to better duties?

There is one class of virtues that is fostered by the rigours of our climate, which deserves to be particularly noticed. I mean the domestic virtues. We are compelled, by the inclemency of our seasons, not only to have some permanent place of abode, but to resort to it. In milder regions, men live abroad; they are