that it sets forth. It should be the "worship of sorrow," endeared by its patience; it should be the worship of divine meekness, of victorious humiliation, of allconquering forgiveness, of all-consummating self-sacrifice. It is a worship, which, if I could put it into the heart of any worldly and self-indulgent being, would make him a new and a happy creature. Before that cross, were it rightly revered and worshipped, all worldly pride and vain glory would sink to the dust; all Christian virtues would spring up-amidst tears, amidst penitence, amidst self-renunciation, they should spring up-fair and beautiful like the life and the love of Jesus. By this sign should men conquer-not as Constantine conquered; the world's very ambition should then be conquered, won, redeemed to the service of God; and the paths-the till now weary and darkened paths of earth-should be bright and happy, I had almost said, as the regions of heaven!

You will not suppose, I trust, that I wish you to infer from what I have now said, that the liberty of explaining Christianity, which every body of believers claim for themselves, is to be denied to us. We have our explanation; and not denying that others have it in part, yet of such price do I hold it, that it involves, in my estimation, almost the entire value of Christianity itself. But there is not space here, and now is not the time, when I wish to go into minute explanations. We look upon these walls, in which we trust that the worship of centuries is to be celebrated-of centuries, in whose growing light we believe that many a glaring and fiery dispute of present times will fade away-and our thoughts are not of controversy. We are thinking rather of that uncontroverted

and venerable Christianity, which, through this durable monument, we wish to bequeath to them that shall come after us. We rejoice that not by the breath of words only, which die in the utterance, but through these massive walls, our mind, our purpose, our desire, shall stand declared. I lay my hand upon this pulpit-this altar-place of our prayer-and from that dim future of some distant century, comes one, now unborn and unknown, and lays his hand upon it; and we speak to him and to the brethren yet to stand here with him. We tell them of our care, while in life, for the precious cause of religion and virtue; we tell them that we thought of our children and of our children's children; we commit to them, in sacred trust, that blessed religion in which alone the generations of mankind can be blessed and conducted to heaven; we invoke upon them, through the flight of years, the mercy of that God who "showeth mercy to thousands of them that love him and keep his commandments."

III. But beyond the views which I have presented to you, of the general consecration of this church, and of the doctrinal principles and prospects to which it is devoted, there is another point, which I could not satisfy myself on this occasion, without bringing more distinctly before you.

This Church is especially dedicated to practical religion-to a religion that has the most intimate connexion with our daily life and welfare.

The relation of the pulpit to the surrounding world -that which consecrates it to human welfare-is a topic not only appropriate to the present occasion, but one which deserves on all occasions, as I humbly con

ceive, to be more deeply concerned than it has been. With this then, let me occupy the few remaining moments of our present meditation.

And here let me observe, that in what I may attempt to say of the relation of the pulpit to human welfare, I shall assume for the basis of my remarks, no particular creed. It appears to me, that whatever my creed might be, I should still pursue the same general course in my preaching; and I have no doubt that every creed exhibits, more or less, an example of the kind of ministration which I shall advocate.

We must all admit that the pulpit is designed to promote human well-being. If this be not the design, no construction nor instrument on earth was ever so completely without a purpose. The very plough in the furrow were more sacred, than the pulpit which never cultivates the field of the world.

But what is human welfare? And where is it? And how is it to be promoted? These are the questions that ascertain the true province, the true sanctity of the pulpit.

What is human welfare? It is the intrinsic character of a man. It is the inward principle that governs him continually. It is piety towards God, and fidelity towards men. It is purity in the heart, and virtue in the life. It is penitence, submission, faith. It is temperance, moderation, calmness, cheerfulness. It is love, gentleness, goodness of heart. It is to be freed from the distractions of passion, from the pains of a violated conscience, and from the agony of hopeless despair. It is, in one word, an accordance, sincere and heartfelt, with the Gospel of Christ. This only is true welfare. I know that there is a contro

versy, ever going on in the human heart on this question. But this is what the pulpit teaches. And when it teaches this, it takes its stand on the ground of eternal truth and everlasting experience. The ingenuity of the human heart may be for ever employed in gainsaying this position-but it will for ever be employed in vain.

But where is this welfare to be found? Is it not wherever a man is ?-in the house, and by the way— at home and abroad-in the warehouse and on the mart—in the street where he walks, and in the society to which he resorts-in labour and recreation-amidst wealth and poverty-in all conditions which God has ordained for his discipline and improvement? In all these, he is seeking some satisfying good; and amidst them he must find it, or nowhere. That is to say, he must find it where he is continually. I must beg you to pardon the truism; for really many are thinking that they are to obtain the chief good, only in places where they are seldom found. I say, therefore, that a man is to find his essential, his spiritual welfare there, where he habitually is-not in the church nor in the closet only, but amidst the very care, business, strife, and turmoil of life. Yes, he must find the true relief in that care, the true integrity in that business, the true self-government in that strife, and the true calmness in that turmoil.

Now to this end, and to this emphatically, all pulpits and all churches are, or should be, consecrated-consecrated as instruments to that end. And let me tell you, that there is not one erection in this city that more nearly concerns the actual and varied life that men are every day living;-no, not your courts of justice nor

your schools-no, not your houses nor your warehouses. For in all these you are seeking that which is beyond them all-that which they all cannot give→ that to which they are all instrumental-happiness. And here, in this consecrated place, is taught the only principle that can compass that great and ultimate aim. Whether we have yet learned this truth, I do not say: but this, I say, we must learn. This truth, I see, every day around me, and never anywhere more than in this very city. Let the whole great world become your minister-let it bring tribute to you, from every clime and from every mine, and from every wave of the sea, and from every treasure-house of luxury and abundance; and, without the aid of the right inward principle, it will only heap up to you incentives to pride, and means of indulgence, or, at the best, only cares and vexations and vanities. I know this, for I see it. How little calm is there in life around us! How little soul-sufficing satisfaction! On every hand is restless seeking; on every hand, ill-suppressed complaint. Here and there, indeed, is the true calm, the true satisfaction; yet it is nowhere but in the heart whose inmost and dearest life is love, purity, faith. I see, too, that all which the ministering world can offer, is transient, phenomenal, vanishing away. Calamity comes down like an avalanche upon our gathered stores; or bereavement makes the full house void and desolate; and then there is no stay for us, but that inward principle which can look through all, to the love of God, and the hope of eternity!

My friends, these, with me, are not mere words of From this imputation above all things would I rescue this pulpit. If I believed that this pulpit

course.