or rather, as His example and to all he it was only by continued effort that he could maintain. it, and to maintain it-to teach men the awful, infinite value of the human soul-he retired wholly into the desert, there to be alone and face to face with himself and God. And there by twenty years of prayer, and tears, and abstinence, and humbleness, he learnt in his patience to subdue his body, and to possess it should be rendered, to acquire his soul. was fruitful, as all sacrifice is always: taught the same lessons-" To trust in God, and to love Him; to keep themselves wholly, sternly, determinedly, from foul thoughts and sensual pleasures; to rule their tongues and their appetites; not to be deceived by fulness of bread; to watch, to pray; never to let the sun go down upon their wrath." So, in the desert, he lived and died. His book was the nature of created things. He saw the great sun rise and set over the granite hills. He saw the great storm sweep the desert, and the great stars look down upon its sands. Working, praying, teaching, meditating, he lived holy and died happy; and let the poor shallow criticism which would sneer at such as he, remember that Athanasius, the glory of the Eastern Church, counted it the highest blessing of his life to have seen him; and that it was by hearing his story that Augustine, the glory of the Western Church, was first won to deliver himself from the trammels of a vulgar, dissolute, selfish life, to become himself a high servant and saint of God. i. Would to God that you from his life would learn two short but eternal lessons! The one is this-that virtue is not above human nature. God has bidden us be humble, peaceful, charitable, pure; God has not bidden us to do what we cannot do. Most of us seem to act as though the law of God could not be obeyed, or not by us; the soul not saved, or not by us. But we can obey God's holy law; we can work out our own salvation with fear and trembling. Whatever his circumstances, whatever his temptations, whatever his character-aye, even whatever his habits-there is not one boy in this chapel who might not be free, and noble, and calm, and pure. Antony was not older than the eldest of you when he obeyed the voice which bade him part with all for God. Benedict was younger than nearly all of you when, in his mountain cave among the Sabine hills, he trained himself by stern self-denial to regenerate his age. Francis of Assisi was still a youth when the spectacle of the Passion burnt upon his soul the lesson, "If thou wilt come after Me, deny thyself, and take up thy cross, and follow Me." ii. That is one lesson,-that godliness is possible; the other is that it is not possible without effort. Be sure of this-nothing worth anything can ever be gained without paying the price which nature, and man, and God have ordained. If you want physical success, you must work for it. If you want intellectual success, you must work for it. If you would conquer your bad habits, if you would resist your besetting sins, if you would save your souls from sin, and hell, and the death that cannot die, you must work for it. For not, as Dante says "Not on flowery beds, or under shade Of canopy reposing, heaven is won." No man, says another poet― "No man e'er gained a happy life by chance, It stands written in the Koran that, "Under the shadow of the crossing scimitars Paradise is prefigured:" the prophet meant it of the sword by which he propagated his faith; but we may understand it of the spiritual armour. Yes, under the shadow of the crossing scimitars—yes, in the battlefield against sin and death,—yes, where the fiery darts of the wicked one fly fast and thick-there, in the deadly struggle of internecine opposition against all that we know to be wicked and opposed to God,-there for us lies the only safety. "See, then, accurately how ye walk." If you would win the saint's glory, you must fight the saint's fight: "They climbed the steep ascent of heaven, 'Mid peril, toil, and pain: Oh God, to us may grace be given To follow in their train !" 1 1 For one or two thoughts in this Sermon I am indebted to an unpublished Sermon by Canon Westcott. St. Simon and St. Jude, Oct. 28, 1872. SERMON XIII. THE PERIL OF WASTE. JOHN vi. 12. "Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost." You have heard these words, my brethren, in the Gospel of to-day. Even in their most literal and obvious sense they are full of instruction. But as the miracles of Christ were more than mere acts of power, so the words of Christ reached farther than their direct significance. And I shall understand these words as warning us against other waste than the waste of food.-as bidding us to gather other fragments than the fragments of a feast. The half-year is nearly over. It has given us invaluable time-that time is drawing to a close; it has been rich in priceless opportunities-those opportunities are being rapidly withdrawn. As regards that time, as regards those opportunities these words warn us against the sin of waste. To myself, and to all of you, I apply this morning the words of Christ, "Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost." 1. Looking back on this half-year, may we not say that so far it has been by God's blessing a quiet and a happy one? An ancient heathen would never have ventured to speak thus. Before even hinting at any happiness of his own, he would have thought it necessary to do homage to Nemesis. He would have dreaded lest the mere mention of prosperity should provoke the anger and jealousy of Heaven. The feelings of a Christian are very different. When God has been very good to him, or to the body of which he is a member,-when God has shed the dew of His blessing either on the heart or life, he looks up to that God, not as to an arbitrary or jealous despot, but as to a tender father, who is pleased with his happiness, who wills his salvation. And so, if, as he walks by the dusty wayside of life, he has drunk of the brook by the way, and plucked some of the sweet and simple flowers which broider it,-very humbly and very thankfully, desiring that God's gifts may make him neither presumptuous nor negligent,— he offers unto God thanksgiving, and pays his vows unto the Most Highest. Well then, thanking God, and taking courage, we may say, I trust, that God has not withholden His blessing from us. No harm has happened to us, nor any plague come nigh our dwelling. We have not been troubled by sickness, nor had to mourn for the stroke of death; nor have we suffered the anguish of worse sorrows than those,-worse, because they affect not the perishing body, but the immortal soul,the bitter dread, I mean, lest there should be sin flourishing in the midst of us;-lest boys coming among us should be subjected to ruinous perils and cruel temptations;―lest there should be neglected roots of bitterness to spring up and trouble us;-lest bad boys should have more influence here than good ;-lest to watch, and to pray, and to seek the love, and to obey the law of God, should be the exception here, and not the rule; we have had, I say, no cause to indulge such fears; rather have we had every reason to hope the |