erything in its proper station and value. Its law is perfect order, and they who obey it move with a harmonious and harmonizing power. They are never embarrassed, in the deepest sense of that word. No cares come too thick for them, no labors entangle them; for they have a clue that guides them clearly through all difficulties, an adjusting principle that sets everything in order. The fact which I am now urging is illustrated in various branches of human pursuit. The merchant could not carry on his business for a day without a central principle which determines and tests all that he does. This method extends through every channel, and to every item of his affairs. No enterprise is proposed without consulting it, no transaction is accomplished except in conformity to it. It controls the receipt or expenditure of a penny, as well as the richest freight that rocks upon the seas. Every night he may consult his books, and trace his fortune in the four quarters of the globe; may know what he is worth, what is

finished, what must be done to-morrow. To the uninformed spectator this complicated mass of work is a mere chaos of bustle and perplexity; but to him who looks from the interior, every part moves in beautiful order and makes a harmonious business, because it is obedient to that one directing purpose. Such a directing purpose is Duty in the multifarious transactions of life. It sets everything clearly before us. It predetermines what we must do, and when, and how. To its test we bring every enterprise, and by it we solve every doubt.

On the other hand, it is the lot of those who act from no high principle of duty, to be, like Martha, "careful and troubled about many things." I hardly need say, that a positively wicked career is one of certain embarrassment. He who acts from appetite or passion soon precipitates himself into difficulty, and knows not how to retreat. The restlessness of the guilty proceeds not only from the wounds of sin, but from their vain endeavors to extricate

themselves from the mazes in which their short sight and their hasty feet have entangled them. But, leaving such as these, consider those who obey no supreme rule of duty; consider, for instance, those who act from mere selfishness. Every gift or faculty they possess they conceive to be for their exclusive use, and nothing seems advantageous that does not serve their interests. Hence, from policy, they will perform many practical duties of life. But how often will instances occur, when conscience will draw one way, and interest another; and then how are they embarrassed! Moreover, hastily snatching at everything that promises them good, they are frequently deceived and thwarted; they find themselves interfering with the relations of others, and embroiled in controversy. In their greediness, too, they employ a multitude of means, and are distracted with noisy and conflicting cares. Or consider those who make pleasure the great pursuit of life, and how soon are they encumbered as with a weary service! How careful

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are they, and troubled about many things! Hours of formality or of vapid leisure press upon them. The continuousness of frivolity distracts them. Their minds are racked for new methods. The wine of existence runs stale upon the lees, and they are tormented by the monotony of worn-out expedients. But enough of these instances. They who act with any view less broad than the comprehensiveness of duty, act without clear vision, do not know the proper value and relation of things, and are not prepared for the issues of life they are soon perplexed with difficulties, and overwhelmed with cares.

To the young woman, then, entering upon the responsibilities, or mingling with the relations, of her lot, I would say, if you would have your way clear and calm, if you would not be perplexed with doubts, and encumbered with cares, if you would know and perform each obligation in its proper season, you can do so, not by escaping from the path of destiny, not by neglecting these doubts and cares

and obligations, but by viewing them with the serene vision, and meeting them with the consecrated spirit, of one who has asked and learned "what is Duty."

Another peculiarity of Duty, which makes it not only necessary but advantageous, is the fact that it is a willing service. Mary chose the better part, and no true duty is performed unless it is accomplished by the heart, as well as the conduct. The idea of duty as a sacrifice makes our loyalty cold and suspicious. We rise into the highest moral atmosphere only when we do not count the cost, when we cherish and cling to duty for its own sake. They, therefore, who in this spirit go forth to the duties of life, and make every action a duty, experience no oppressive weight, no distracting care. I said a little while ago, that Christ's yoke is easy and his burden light, because his disciples act with the discerning spirit of rectitude. I now add, that they who put on their Master's obligations find an easy yoke and a light burden, because they carry

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