My children, upon this devious and eventful pilgrimage, you are to enter, now; unshielded, by the sacred home, which has, so long, been your shelter. From its privacy, its peacefulness, its purity, its piety; the sound of its continual scriptures, the music of its con tinual songs, the fervour of its continual supplications, the fragrance of its continual sacraments: you are to go out into a world, which cares, but little, for these things. I thank God, for the inestimable confidence, that their roots have taken, in your hearts. I look, to Him, to water, with His grace, these plantings of His word. I beseech Him, mercifully, to grant, that they may live, and grow, in you nurturing your souls, with spiritual and immortal food; sheltering your young heads, with their broad, cool, shadow, against the hot blasts of temptation; and cheering you on, with their refreshing fra grance, through whatever He may order, for your chas tening, as His children, until they bring you, where the palms of Paradise spring up, forever green, by the pure river of the water of life. Remember, my beloved, you have not these inestimable blessings, for yourselves, alone. You hold them, as a sacred trust, for your homes, for the Church, for your country, and for your kind. "The times are out of joint." Corruption stalks in our high places. Licentiousness has, well nigh, lost its shame. Infidelity is bold and brazen-faced. The wave of barbarism is rolling back, upon us. For these things, your own sex is greatly answerable. Women are not true, to themselves. They wink at vice.

They make a

compromise with worldliness. They tolerate irreligion.

And they are the victims of their own unfaithfulness. The stronger sex looks up, in best things, to the weaker. They have, all, had mothers. They have, all, had sisters. They own them, in the sex, to which, they owe them. And, if women were but true, to God; true, to their position; true, to themselves: they would have strength, from Him, to hold the world in check. No woman ever fell, but by her own consent. As, at the first, the woman is the tempter. There is no man, that has not passed into the brute, to do as tigers do, that can resist the matchless majesty of a resolved woman. And, stronger than all law, stronger than any thing, but God, when it is strong, in His strength, would be the power of woman, to put down rudeness, and to lay the bridle, upon license. But, the age is self-indulgent. And, self-indulgence grows by what it feeds on. Women are occupied by fashion. Women are slaves, to dress. Women are willing to be flattered. Women are careless of their companionship. Women are unscrupulous, in their amusements. Young women set up for themselves. They look upon their parents, as oldfashioned. They are impatient of domestic restraints. They are averse to domestic occupations. They vote their home, a bore. They congregate away from its control. They indulge in unseasonable hours. They meet the other sex, more than half-way. They make themselves debtors, for their escort, to places of resort. They permit the approaches of familiarities. They tempt the hidden devil of their nature. They forget their Bibles. They neglect their Prayer Books. They

are women of fashion. They are women of the world. What else they are, is, rather, shaped by opportunity, than by themselves. In this way, home is stripped of its sanctity. In this way, the female atmosphere loses its freshness, and its fragrance. The woman is, no longer, what she was made to be, "a help, meet" for the man. And man ceases to be, what God designed him for; her her partner, her prop, and her protector.

I am well persuaded, by the report, which comes, to me, from every quarter of the land, that the women, who have gone out, from before this altar-counted, now, by thousands-are, for the most part, women of another sort. I hear of them, as faithful wives. I hear of them, as devoted mothers. I hear of them, as loving sisters. I hear of them, as obedient daughters. They are centres of good influence, in society. They are stays and ornaments of the Church. It may be said, of them: 'Many daughters have done virtuously; but, these excel them all!" To join this hopeful company, beloved ones, you are to go out, now. You go, with the instructions, by which their minds were moulded. You go, with the influences, which God has sanctified, in the transformation of their hearts. You go, with the prayers, which have won down, from heaven, for them, the consolations of the Comforter. You go, with the blessing, which has commended them, to the care and keeping of the Holy One. "Be strong, in the Lord," dear children: "and in the power of His might." Keep your Bibles, ever, in your hearts. Have your Prayer Books, ever, in your hands. Be true, to yourselves.

Be true, to your homes. Be true, to your Church. Be true, to your God. Follow after her, who sat down, at Jesus' feet, and heard His word. Follow after them, who left His Cross, the last, and found His grave, the first. Follow after her, whose sacred legend gleams upon you, now; it may be, for the last time: "behold the handmaid of the Lord!" Remember, always, that you are women. Remember, always, to be "holy wo men." Keep your hands, ever, on the Cross. Fix your eyes, ever, on the crown. Lambs of THE LAMB, in meekness, and gentleness, and lovingness; be dovelings of THE DOVE, in peace, and purity, and piety. Dear daughters of my heart, God bless you!

VOL. IV.-12

SERMON I.

*THE CHURCH THE TEACHER OF CHRIST'S LITTLE CHILDREN.

ST. JOHN XXI. 15.-Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou Me more than these? He saith unto him, Yea, Lord; Thou knowest that I love Thee. He saith unto him, FEED MY LAMBS.

THE Son of God had stooped from heaven to earth. He had made Himself of no reputation, and taken upon Him the form of a servant. He had given His hands and His feet to be pierced through with nails; and, from His wounded side, had poured His heart's blood out, upon the ground. But, though He had made Himself obedient unto death, and found the grave, of which Isaiah spake, in the new tomb of Joseph, the grave and death could not confine Him long. Upon the day, which He himself appointed, He brake its bands; and, in His triumph over death, the curse of sin, attested His dominion over sin, the sting of death. would have thought, that now, His work was done. One would have thought, that now, love's measure was filled up. One would have thought, that, from the Cross, He would go instant to the right hand of

One

* These two addresses are printed as fair exponents of my Father's educational plans. This was delivered on the first Sunday after the opening of Burlington College; November, A. D. 1847.