glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's." Again, we Christians are soldiers, and all our members weapons which belong to Christ, and with which we are to fight against sin in the holy cause of our beloved Lord, as the apostle says, "Neither yield ye your members as instruments of unrighteousness unto sin; but yield yourselves unto God, as those that are alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness unto God." And again: "The night is far spent; the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light."2 If, then, I am my Lord Christ's soldier, ought I to desert His standard and carry my weapons into the service of His adversary? What honest soldier ever acted such a part? Moreover, that lewdness, more than any other sin committed by the members, defiles and dishonours the body is manifest; for though gross falsehood may have slipped over thy tongue, and though thy hand may even have perpetrated a murder, still these are transient acts, and the filth of them does not cleave so closely to the body, and so deeply mark, poison, and disfigure it as fleshly indulgences, and, worst of all, lewdness. That is the reason why the apostle here says, Every sin that a man doeth is without the body; but he that committeth fornication sinneth against his own body." 66 Neither I nor my members are any longer my own. They are Christ's, and by every unchaste act I sin against Him as well as against myself. Pious Joseph! thou too didst know that he who sins against his body sins also against some one else, and in the hour of temptation didst exclaim, "How can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?" and thine example I will keep before my eyes. But from Thee, also, my God, I will implore strength to be chaste and temperate, and of a pure heart, as Solomon of old prayed: "When I perceived that I could not otherwise obtain wisdom, except God gave her me, I prayed unto the Lord, and besought Him." And Thou, too, O Lord Christ, whose priest and soldier I am, set Thyself 1 Rom. vi. 13. 2 Rom. xiii. 12. before my eyes in Thy robe of light, that I may hate whatever in me is dark. Stand ever before me in the guise of Thy sufferings-those sufferings that were endured for love of me. Let Thy nails be thorns in my side at every motion of lust; let Thy thorny crown pierce deep into my heart when impure desires would there awake. O crucified Love, let all be crucified within and about me which does not resemble Thee! Holy and chaste, O Lord, Thou wert, To be Thy bride no single soul, O do my breast inspire With a like holy fire, And let its spotless light Beam through my being quite, And teach me how to love aright. Lord, Thou didst brook a death of pain, And in the garden groan, to gain Let Thy fond toils and holy zeal, 52. The Love of Money is the Root of all Evil. My care is, like the little birds, to praise and thank the Lord; I JOHN, ii. 16. "All that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world." PSALM CXXVII. 1, 2. "Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it: except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain. It is in vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrows, for he giveth to His beloved while asleep." 1 MATT. vi. 34. "Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." MATT. vi. II. I TIM. VI. IO. "Give us this day our daily bread." "Ye cannot serve God and mammon." "The love of money is the root of all evil; which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows." PROV. XXX. 8. "Give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me." "G" IVE us this day our daily bread" is a favourite petition of mine, in the prayer of our Lord. I know full well that some endeavour to affix to it a spiritual meaning, but of that I cannot approve. The Lord has given us so many beautiful petitions for spiritual good things, ought there not to be at least one in which we may beg from Him what is good for the body? It is so pleasant a sight, when around the head of a family upon earth, the children, and servants, and all the members of the household congregate with expec tant and supplicating eyes, and when his hand deals out to each the portion convenient for him. And pleasant also is it for the soul to figure to itself the Master of the world seated upon the golden rainbow, which reaches from heaven to earth, and the whole human family, with the beasts of the field and the fowls of the air, approaching Him every returning morning, and departing with their wants satisfied by His hands. It is thus that I picture to myself our Father in heaven when I pray, "Give us this day our daily bread," and think of all the thousand millions who come along with me into His 1 Luther's version. "1 presence, and, whether silently or with articulate speech, join in my supplication. It seems to me as if the bread were tasteless until it has been consecrated and blessed by prayer and thanksgiving. Were I forbidden to pray for it, I should then be obliged to take anxious thought about it. Now, however, this brief petition, which has been taught us by the Lord, serves as a little vessel, on which I embark all my anxiety, and cast it upon Him who commands us to do so, saying in His Word, "Cast all your care upon Him, for He careth for you." "When care has driven me to prayer," says worthy Philip Melanchthon, "I in my turn drive care by prayer away." If, in this manner, we have committed our whole cause unto the Lord, we then enter upon our employments with double alacrity, and all our works prosper as if the hands of angels helped us to perform them. No doubt the cheerful song, "Begone, dull care," is sung by birds of very different feather. It is sung by the sprightly finch, who looks mirthfully out, like thoughtless Jack, upon the world; but it is also sung by the lark, when in the blush of morning it soars aloft into the clouds. Judging from the sound, we might suppose that it was all one melody; but listen with attention and you will soon perceive that, although there seems little difference in the notes, the words at least are not the same. For while the one sings On nothing have I built my cause; the other is singing— I upon God my cause have built. And if you listen a little longer, you will, I think, come to find that there is a difference also in the tune. How grateful I feel to our blessed Lord, that both by the beautiful prayer, "Give us this day our daily bread," and likewise by the no less beautiful precept, "Take no thought for the morrow," He has made us so perfectly free, and has disencumbered us not only of care, but at the same time of avarice, that I Peter, v. 7. 1 hateful vice, which crawls like a reptile upon the ground! Of all sins, avarice seems to me the least human. From other sins a man reaps a certain modicum of good, while they still leave unbroken some of the ties that bind him to his fellowmen; but the miser tears himself loose from his kind, as well as from living nature, to caress a piece of lifeless metal. It is a most irrational sin, but may be best understood when it is the offspring of an unbelieving heart, which puts no trust in Him who feeds the sprightly birds of the air, and clothes the lilies of the field. It does seem to me a toilsome piece of work which the miser undertakes, for it is nothing less than to provide beforehand against all that the future may bringagainst danger, and dearth, and disease, and nakedness. No wonder that there is no end to his cares, and yet that he himself never thinks that he is careful enough. The blind fool! God has made the task so easy to him, and yet he makes it so difficult to himself. In the fear of a future burden he heaps millstones upon his shoulder, and in apprehension of possible strokes of the rod, is every moment actually lashing the skin from his back. Unhappy man! surely there are already millstones and stripes enough in the world; why shouldst thou of thine own accord add to their number? Even the avarice which is the offspring of unbelief is irrational; for how can so weak a creature as man erect a fence, or stop the chinks so as to protect himself, from what quarter soever the bitter wind may blow? In another respect, however, the miser acts contrary to reason. At every step by which he advances towards the boundary where all earthly care is to be laid aside, his carefulness, instead of lessening, becomes greater, which shows off his folly in the clearest light. Moreover, just as misfortunes never come single, so neither does this sin. A certain haughtiness and pride always go hand in hand with the unbelief of avarice; and the reason is this money is the common measure by which the world estimates worth, and the miser, knowing this, feels his own weight, takes credit to himself for it, and says to his soul, |