ther therefore ye eat or drink, or whatsoever | it its trials and its sorrows: the centre of the ye do, do all to the glory of God." Again, Christian's life in action is still his centre in to the Colossians, "Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus." Again, St. Peter writes-"That God in all things may be glorified." And this, we remember, is declared by our apostle to have been the end of Jesus's death: "He died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him which died for them, and rose again." The obligation then to make our text the rule of life being proved to be universal, and 1 not peculiar to St. Paul, we proceed to its further examination. And in examining it, as propounding to us the proper object of the Christian's life on earth, we may dwell first I on the simplicity of this object. We recur for a moment to the life of Paul himself. We behold a chequered scene: we see him in variety of action and sufferingnow working at his craft as a tent-maker, now preaching "the unsearchable riches of He is now in labours, and now in stripes; now in a dungeon, now on a journey; now in the city, now on the sea; at one time amid Israelites, at another among Gentiles; "in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness." But how simple the spring of action, how single the motive, how uniform the aim when his heart is bare before us, when the principles which actuate, the affections which animate, are analysed! How simple the clue which runs throughout this complicated maze of action and endurance: the elementary, the constraining, the heart-principle of all is the love of Christ Jesus his Lord. The life which he lives is by the faith of him who had loved him and given himself for him; and thus his aim was kept uniform, his object single and engrossing. Whatsoever outward aspect his life may assume, whatsoever dispensations he may be called to bear, to him "to live is Christ." And this, brethren, we would urge is the principle, this the aim, which is needed to give an unity, a consistency, to our lives on earth: for thus we have in Christ a common centre to which they tend. Life brings with it duty: Christ is the centre of every energy, every exertion, every scheme in the life of duty. Life brings with it ever and anon enjoyments, comforts, pleasures: Christ is the centre still. The highest enjoyment is to rejoice in him; the truest comfort the consolations of his grace; the noblest and sweetest pleasure the peace he gives: while no other enjoyment, no other comfort, no other pleasure may be tasted which is inconsistent with living to him. Life brings with suffering; for Christ may be magnified no less by patience than by action, by resignation than by zeal. Faith's office is often to suffer; not always to work. And love must sometimes drain a cup of bitterness, no less than speed with willing feet on duty's active paths. "Unto you," writes the apostle, in the 29th verse, "it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake; having the same conflict which ye saw in me, and now hear to be in me." And this simplicity of aim will give, we have said, a holy unity, a heavenly uniformity to our lives. Their general hue or tone will be harmonious and consistent. Not indeed that every act must have, or can have, a direct tendency to Christ's glory. The Christian cannot say in each and every individual detail of life, before he enters upon this action, before he allows himself to enjoy this pleasure" I distinctly and directly propose to myself in this to glorify Christ; I distinctly see that my doing this, or my enjoying this, has a direct bearing upon that end." This cannot be. But it can be that no action be undertaken or performed, no pleasure sought, however trifling and common-place the particular detail of life before us, which is inconsistent with Christ's glory. It can be that we take heed that it verge not toward another centre-the world, or sin, or self. It can be that, while the Christian is engaged in this duty, or allowing himself in this recreation or enjoyment, it shall yet be true of him that his principles are not in abeyance, that his main aim and object is still before him, that he can still at this very moment say, "To me to live is Christ." It may not be, for example, directly for Christ's glory that the Christian partake of this meal (I instance this in reference to the precept of our apostle already quoted). But, if we contrast the Christian, recognizing in his daily food the bounty of his Father's hand, looking up to heaven, and blessing, and giving thanks ere he partake, and then in "gladness and singleness of heart" partaking, not for gluttony or drunkenness, but to recruit exhausted strength, to nourish health and life; when he, I say, is contrasted with the man who partakes his fare, whether daily bread or sumptuous dainties, unblessed, with thankless heart, and in self-indulgent excess, we see that a daily meal is not exempt from the operation of Christian principle, but may be partaken as part of living unto Christ. Thus then while subordinate ends, in almost countless number and variety, must be pursued amid the daily detail of the engage ments of the Christian's life on earth; while even comparatively few can have a direct and immediate bearing upon his Redeemer and his God, his glory, nevertheless, is the centre, the ultimate aim and object of all. No other ultimate aim is proposed; nothing inconsistent with this may be pursued. "To live is Christ." And thus singleness of eye and heart must characterize the Christian, in contrast with the man whose aim and principles are derived from earth and sin and self. The Christian must be a transparent character. The oneness of his aim will give a consistency to his life. But manoeuvring, and concealment, and worldly tact, and trick, and policy, must characterize those whose ends are earthly and selfish. It is often necessary for their success that their end be concealed. Their fellow-men must be deceived, or at least kept in the dark. The simplicity of the Christian's end gives a nobleness to his character, and he would publish it to men, to angels, and to devils-" To me to live is Christ." But, from the examination of the simplicity of the Christian's object, we are led, secondly, to consider its constancy. "To live is Christ." The very expression "to live" is full of instruction. No words could have expressed more fully the constancy of the apostle's endeavour to magnify his Lord. "To live"-the very continuance of my existence in the body upon earth, the exercise of my every power, capacity, and affection of body, mind, and spirit-life, as a whole-life, with all its duties and pleasures and sorrows-life, with all that is to be done and all that is to be endured, is given up to Christ. Ah, brethren, when shall we have learned that this is Christianity-this, religionthis, the practical power of that cross which bought us not from hell alone, and Satan, but from ourselves? "Ye are not your own." We had better understood the apostle had he written-"To me to pray is Christ; to me to study the scriptures is Christ; to me to eat his flesh and drink his blood is Christ; to assemble with his people is Christ. I set him before me: I realize his presence in these"-but, no, "to live is Christ." When, alas, shall we learn that religion is not to be to us as an appendage to life-a something which involves a few extra duties, a few peculiar observances and forms; but that to live must be to us religion, that we have a God to serve, a Saviour to magnify each day, each hour? And if, as has already been more than once implied, we have a life of suffering, not action alone, to live-to bear no less than to do-remember here too your object is the same. It may seem hard to many a one whose heart is full of love and zeal, who would fain be working in some busy corner of the vineyard, and spending and being spent for Christ, that some trying dispensation of Providence, some bodily infirmity, forbids or clogs exertion. It may seem hard to be so hindered and limited in desiring singly and constantly to live to Christ. It may be so with some here. It is with many that not a few of their hours and days are passed in all the languor and listlessness, in all the pain and suffering, of oft-recurring sickness and disease. Few and short are the seasons when they are able for active and direct exertion. But murmur not, beloved, that it is thus with you. Look not with envy upon your fellow-Christians whose strength and opportunities for service to God, and usefulness to man, are far greater than your own. How was it with Paul? Was his living to Christ always the life of action? Was he not conformed to Christ's sufferings too? How was it with Paul's Master and yours? He "went about," indeed, "doing good;" he sought his glory who sent him; but Jesus "learned obedience by the things which he suffered." And think you that Paul magnified his Master more when he stood on Mars'-hill and preached to the men of Athens, than when he sang God's praises in the dungeon at Philippi? Think you that Jesus is more glorious as he journeys from city to city, than when he stands as a lamb before her shearers, or drains with submission Gethsemane's deep and bitter cup of woe? No. The Christian character is not all action. It has its passive graces. As we survey the portraiture of the Christian, we may be more caught with the brighter colours. But there is a soft repose, a mellowed richness in it, as drawn by the Spirit of God upon the pages of God's word. And patience and resignation are as integral parts of the living unto Christ's glory as zeal and energy. Leave then to your heavenly Father's providence whether you shall magnify him more by action or by suffering. His grace is sufficient alike for each. "To me to live is Christ" may be as simply, as constantly, as heartily your declaration on the bed of lingering sickness, and amid the approaching infirmities of age, as in life's busiest scenes and labours. It ill becomes us to cherish the thought that we could have magnified Christ better by being enabled to do more, with healthier frame and in a larger sphere. No; his wisdom hath appointed the niche we are to fill-some active, some passive. Hath he not consulted tenderly for us-wisely for his own glory? Henceforth, then, to me And why is it that, while very many of us who are here present would profess that we make it our object to magnify and obey and serve our Redeemer and our God-while many of us therefore, perhaps, would not hesitate to affirm, "To me to live is Christ," there are few of us who would not falter-not indeed as a conclusion of the mind, but with the experimental desire of the heart—to add, to live be Christ. Henceforth be Christ | such a believer be willing rather (were it magnified in my body and in spirit, whether God's will) to be. doing or enduring. In active life I can be diligent in sickness shall I not be patient? In all shall I not glorify my Father and my Lord in heaven? For, ourselves being judges, it is not surely then only that we recognize the sufficiency of God's grace when we follow the Christian minister in his abundant labours, or even a Paul as he is spent in his Master's work. We marvel at its power no less, we trace as surely its reality" and to die is gain?" Why, but that we are and its workings, as we stand by the Christian on his bed of agony, or in his hour of sorest and saddest grief, and mark how patience" hath "her perfect work," and that though God "slay" him yet will he "trust in him." But our text sets before us not only the proper aim of the Christian's life, but, as we now proceed to consider, II. The proper measure of the Christian's desire of life. This lesson, which must have been involved in the words had they stood alone, is peculiarly the lesson which they convey when taken in connection with their immediate context. In the verse preceding, he writes that it is his hope that "Christ shall be magnified in his body, whether it be by life or by death." In ver. 22, he continues-"What I shall choose, I wot not; for I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better." And he adds-"To abide in the flesh is more needful for you." 66 Now mark well, brethren, the estimate of life and death which in the apostle's case was the result of his single aim at Christ's glory. Life, we have seen, was associated in his mind, so far as its object was concerned, with the magnifying of his Lord. So long then as the continuance of his life on earth was conducive to this end, so long as his remaining in the flesh was needful" even for a single flock of Christ's sheep, so long was he desirous of living-rather so long was he content to live. But, so supremely was Christ Jesus his Lord the object of his affections, so engrossing was his desire towards him, so entirely was his eye filled with Christ, that, knowing that to depart and "be absent from the body" was to be present with him, he was willing rather for himself to die. And, if the believer has been brought by the power of the Holy Ghost and the constraining cords of redeeming love to such a point as that, he may say with Paul, "To me to live is Christ," the second assertion must follow by necessary inference" to die is gain." Where more of Christ's presence and Christ's fulness and Christ's love may be realized, there surely must making that which was the object of the apostle's life, our object, if at all, in a far lower degree-why, but that life is associated in our hearts with so many objects besides Christ's glory. Why do we desire to live, even those of us who humbly hope that they are prepared to die? Let us answer the question. Our hearts are answering it, as we feel life's many and tender ties. It is associated in our minds with its endearments and comforts. And to die were to leave so many a one we loved. We shrink from the parting. We feel there is much loss in dying, if death be regarded in its reference to the present scene. What, then? are we forbidden to love life at all? Are we to sear our hearts jealously against the father, the mother, the husband, the wife, the child, whom God hath given us? Are we to be so watchful against their hold upon us, as that we can be reft of them, or be torn from them, without a sigh? Not sonot so. But, severe as be the struggle against time and sense, arduous as be the attainment (for we deem not of it, we preach not of it, as a light and easy thing), we are so to set Christ before us in all his loveliness, we are to seek so to know his preciousness, we are to essay so to have the conviction imprinted on our hearts, that in him is the fulness of blessedness and comfort and joy, we are so to make his glory our ruling motive and aim, we are so to associate our ideas of life with its being a time wherein to do him service, as that all in comparison will seem subordinate and inferior. And specially, if this last-named thought prevail-that "to live is Christ"-if we associate our views of life and its continuance, not with life's earthly pleasures and relationships, but with the magnifying Christ, our desires of it will be kept within Christian limits, and it will be the growing conviction of our hearts that " to die is gain." I am speaking at this time to some who can, in a measure (themselves will humbly acknowledge in how imperfect a measure), make the affirmation of the text their own. Yet, brethren, though ye have the hearty and sincere desire, though it is your watchful en tion. deavour, to make the glory and service of your God and Saviour increasingly the object of your life, suffer the word of exhortaYea, therefore suffer it, because this is your endeavour and your desire. Learn then to look to Christ, not only as the centre of your hopes, but the object of your life from day to day. He must be before you. His name, his love, his cross must recur to your heart and mind, not only when you need comfort, not only when conscience is oppressed, not only when you draw near to the mercy-seat, but "to live" must be "Christ." Self, in some one or other of its forms, is Christ's rival in your heart-self as the centre of your duties, your pleasures, and your cares. To the natural man to live is self. But O, how grand an object of life is here proposed! To what a holy and heavenly aim are your desires and energies summoned! The dignity of heaven, of eternity, of God, is impressed in a measure on the daily meal. But, in every aim and end which bears the stamp of self, and earth, and time, and sin, there is insignificance and littleness. In comparison of the grandeur of this object, the nobleness of this aim-to live to Christ-earth's highest honour is a toy, its sweetest pleasure a bubble, its riches vanity. To live to Christ: it will dignify the monarch on his throne, the servant in his daily tasks, the poor man in his hovel. To live to Christ will, as by a heavenly alchymy, spiritualize the secula rities of business, and dignify earth's earthliest duties. Seek then, beloved, that such become more simply, more constantly, the object of your life. And angels can aim no higher. For surely to angels to live is God. The duties, the glories, the pleasures of angels, are centred here. This breathes in each seraph's enraptured strain; this ravishes each angel's soul; this quickens each angel's willing wing, and upholds it obedient, undrooping, and untired. And, if in one angel heart another aim arose, if this for a moment ceased to be supreme, if self were sought as not subordinate to God, in that moment such a heart were traitor and rebellious. For an angel to cease to live to God, were for that angel to fall. And so in heaven shall it be with you. The saints' eternity shall be an eternal living unto God. Rise then, O rise, to that which is a worthy aim for an angel's powersto that life which shall occupy your every exalted power, when body and mind and spirit shall be perfected in glory, and when eternity's endless ages shall be the period of your service, your worship, and your love. Remember too that, to whom "to live is Christ," to them" to die is gain." The more singly, the more constantly, you set your Lord before you in your life, the more entirely shall death be associated with departing to be present with him. There is much for you to lose in dying, if time and sense be your standard. For of all that is dear or precious on earth, you may carry nothing away to the grave. Death is a parting, a severing, from all below. But reckon to the full the account of your loss; home with its many joys; the near and dear ones with whom your hearts have been long entwined in the mutual interchange of tenderest love; to some perhaps wealth-to some honour; and these, all these, are loss. But what of this? What though a group of darling faces be about your dyingbed, and your heart feel many a pang at death's parting? Yet to die shall be Christ. And, while home and dear ones-earth's proudest honours and costliest wealth-be to be lost, you will have in their stead Christ, a fuller sense of his presence, a more abundant enjoyment of his love. And thus, though a world were in the opposite scale, must death be "gain." 66 And O, brethren, which of us here present would not be well pleased to feel that we could make the concluding words of Paul our own? Which of us, whose tongue would falter to do so now, whose conscience and heart will tell him that he cannot do so honestly, which of us will not desire to be enabled so to look on death? If" it remaineth" unto you, brethren, once to die," and if your heart now sink within you at the thought of death; if he seem only a cruel and ruthless enemythe executioner of God's curse on sin, who will soon be here to tear you from all you love, and lay you in a loathsome prison-houseyou will acknowledge that he has no small advantage who can humbly, yet heartily, declare that "to die is gain.' Not indeed as some talk, in vague and self-delusive words, as a release from earth's sickness, and poverty, and sorrows (as if it were a release and a rest to pass from the body's agony, from the pinch of poverty, the tears of this life's sorrows, to the beginning and foretaste of the racking, and the torment, and the wailing, of hell-fire); not, I say, thus, but as a going to Christ. How then shall this blessing be yours? Let our text be your rule of life. The words which follow it shall be your privilege, alike in the anticipation and experience of death. Are you living to yourselves? Is it self you would have indulged and honoured and pleased? 0 remember you have long ago been bought from this with the costliest price which even God could pay! Live then to Christ. It is your bounden duty, for ye are "not your own." Live, we say, to Christ. It is your preparation for death and for eternity. Let the cross, to which we invite you, at once speak peace and comfort, to be despaired of.-Abp. of Armagh's Charge, 1841. Poetry. and draw the sting of death-at once constrainther disguised or openly professed, wherewith Christ you to yield yourselves to all the obligations has made us free. Scripture and primitive antiquity of redeeming love. You have much to be these are acknowledged, reconciliation with Rome Is are the charter by which we hold our rights, and, until forgiven; therefore, when it shall have been forgiven, shall your love be great. And, when once you have pondered that stupendous act of grace, and striven "to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge;" when once your heart hath felt, in all its experimental power, he loved me, and gave himself for me," surely it will surrender itself in all its love, in all its powers, to his service, and your first, your firm resolve, as a pardoned sinner, must be-" Henceforth to me to live is Christ." 66 The Cabinet. PERSECUTIONS OF THE CHURCH.-When was the church free from the world's wrath? To say nothing of the church of the Jews, did not those wicked emperors of Rome think to have made the Christian church short-lived, to have drowned her newly born in floods of her own blood? And, in latter ages, who knows not the cruelties that have been practised by the Turk in the east, and the proud prelate of Rome in the west? By which she hath sometimes been brought to so obscure and low a point, that, if you can follow her in history, it is by the track of her blood; and, if you would see her, it is by the light of those fires in which her martyrs have been burnt. Yet hath she still come through, and survived all that wrath, and still shall survive, till she be made perfectly triumphant.—Archbishop Leighton, Sermon on Grapes from Thorns. RECONCILIATION WITH ROME.-Reconciliation with our brethren of the church of Rome, and indeed with all who dissent from us, is an object to be sought after with prayers, and supplications, and strenuous endeavours; but the faithful keeping, through evil report and good report, of the sacred deposit of truth committed to our hands, is a still higher and more sacred duty; and it is my conviction, that, though we might, by accommodating our principles and language to Romish claims and corruptions, bring about a hollow truce, we should not effect an honest and safe comprehension. I confess I can discover no marks of a frank and plain renunciation of their errors on the part of the church of Rome. There is, and ever has been, as there was at Trent, an attempt to soften down and disguise the real character of their doctrines and practice, which, whenever it has been met in the spirit of Christian candour, has led to disappointment, by discovering the real nature of their claims. The proud pretensions of the bishop of Rome, not merely to a primacy of order, but to an universal supremacy, and the claim of infallibility for the church of his communion, is alone a bar to a reconcilement of our differences. This is at the bottom of their claims, and also of their worst corruptions: for this, it is true, they plead a remote autiquity, and no doubt the seeds of Romish error were early deposited in the rank soil of man's heart, and fostered by favourable times and circumstances. On this plea they would clothe their practices with the venerable dress of antiquity, whilst they ascribe to our church a recent origin. But our reformation was no fond or novel thing, as they would hold out; it was, in fact, and so it professed to be, a return to a scriptural creed and primitive practice, far more ancient than the corruptions introduced by the church of Rome. On these grounds has our church been ever vindicated by our great authorities, and this is the liberty from Romish usurpation, whe SUNDAY. (For the Church of England Magazine.) Even so, methinks, the Sunday brings A change we know not whence it came; There is a spell on all around On eye and ear, and sight and sound; Sure all things wear a heavenly dress, To-day, our peaceful ordered home, And, as at yester eventide, His eyes by faith his Lord behold- And, as we fondly love to look, Whether in meditative walk, |