tutions. In this sense, it is most true that the Church is "His body." In this sense, every Christian is called to say in deed, if not in word, what S. Paul said most fully in both, "Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ."

[This sermon was inserted, as it was preached, as a connecting link between the series which precedes and the series which follows. For an expansion of its contents I be permitted to refer to an essay on "The may Epistles to the Corinthians in their Relation to the Gospel History," and to a sermon preached in S. Paul's Cathedral, "Follow Paul and follow Christ," Jan. 30th, 1859.]

SERMON X.

THE DOCTRINE OF S. PAUL.

(ADVENT SUNDAY, 1857.)

ROMANS Xiii. 12, 13, 14.

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. Let us walk honestly, as in the day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying. But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof.

IT has been observed what advantage is given to any speaker or teacher who takes his stand, not merely on his powers of teaching or speaking, but on some famous deed that he

has done, some long experience that he has won, even some great hereditary name and ancestry. We are hushed into silence even before he begins to speak, we listen to what he tells us with an interest independent of his actual words; what he has done is a pledge to us that what he says is worth receiving. So it is with many passages of Scripture. They come down to us, not only armed with their divine authority, not only relying on their intrinsic excellence, but invested with a long train of recollections, bearing with them the trophies and spoils of the strong men of the earth whom they have vanquished, calling upon us to listen to them by virtue of the victories they have already achieved. Such is the passage which closes the Epistle of this day's service. Doubtless every Advent as it comes round brings with its impressive and consoling accents something that moves some one soul that was never moved before; and when the great day arrives which shall disclose the secrets of all hearts, when every deed and word of man shall give up its account to God, this text will lay before the throne thousands whom it has caused to awake out

of sleep, to cast away the deeds of darkness, and to put on the armour of light. But out of all these one will stand out prominent,—one which is so well known and so important, and yet so closely connected with this passage, that the day on which it is thus read in church may almost be called the anniversary of the event, —I mean the conversion of the great S. Augustine. Let us, before we apply the words to ourselves, consider this instructive and impressive story, as an introduction to the general subject on which I purpose to address you for the ensuing Sundays.

Augustine's youth had been one of reckless self-indulgence. He had plunged into the worst sins of the heathen world in which he lived; he had adopted wild opinions to justify those sins; and thus, though his parents were Christians, he himself remained a heathen in his manner of life, though not without some struggles of his better self and of God's grace against these evil habits. Often he struggled and often he fell; but he had two advantages which again and again have saved souls from ruin,― advantages which no one who enjoys them (and how many of us do enjoy them!)

can prize too highly,- he had a good mother and he had good friends. He had a good mother, who wept for him, and prayed for him, and warned him, and gave him that advice which only a mother can give, forgotten for the moment, but remembered afterwards. And he had good friends, who watched every opportunity to encourage better thoughts, and to bring him to his better self. In this state of struggle and failure he came to the city of Milan, where the Christian community was ruled by a man of fame almost equal to that which he himself afterwards won, the celebrated Ambrose. And now the crisis of his life was come, and it shall be described in his own words. He was sitting with his friend, his whole soul was shaken with the violence of his inward conflict, the conflict of breaking away from his evil habits, from his evil associates, to a life which seemed to him poor, and profitless, and burdensome. Silently the two friends sate together, and at last, says Augustine, "when deep reflection had brought together and heaped up all my misery in the sight of my heart, there arose a mighty storm of grief, bringing a mighty shower of tears."