an over-hasty attempt at its removal. The The young minister, in entering upon his parochial charge, will do well to direct his efforts, in the first instance, to the establishment of personal influence, by allowing his people time to see and understand his character and motives. When this point is gained, he will often be able to accomplish, almost without an effort, that which no amount of zeal would previously have enabled him to effect.

But there are other forms of hardness which meet the faithful minister of Christ. There are trials and burdens ever pressing with almost constant and uniform force, of the intensity of which the heart which feels them alone is conscious. I speak not now of the actual toil and exhaustion of physical power, which, in many spheres of ministerial duty, are inseparably connected with the due discharge of the sacred functions. I speak not of the fatigued and jaded frame, often ill able to bear up against the constant demand upon its ever decreasing energies. I speak not of the pressure of public services; nor of the still more exhausting duties by the bedside of the sick and dying. I speak not of these, though in many cases they constitute no small measure of the hardness, cheerfully, rejoicingly endured by the good soldier of Jesus Christ. But I speak of the inward burden of the mind and heart, which is unseen and unknown beyond the limits of a man's own consciousness. It is true indeed that the ministerial office may be as easy and light a burden

in some cases, as in others it is painful and oppressive. The fact is, that this kind of hardness depends entirely upon the personal character of the Christian Minister. If he be "an hireling and care not for the sheep," if it be a matter of indifference to him, whether the work entrusted to him prosper in his hand or not, then, to such a person few occupations can present a greater prospect of freedom from overwhelming anxiety than the ministerial office. To him there will be no sleepless nights, no toilsome days, no conflicts with temptation, no tears of yearning affection, no bitter pang of disappointed hope. The perfunctory discharge of a routine of prescribed duties, the absence of all flagrant incongruities in his life and conduct, will satisfy his mind. He will feel that his work is done, his appointed task fulfilled.

To

But in cases where, through God's mercy, the Christian Minister is otherwise minded, where the glory of God and the salvation of souls is the one main object of his affection and desire, and where the failure of this object is felt to be the most overwhelming calamity that can be conceived, then how different an aspect does the office assume! such an one the work to which he has willingly given himself promises no life of indolent repose or of literary retirement. Such a minister can enter into the feelings of one who, at Ephesus, for "the space of three years, ceased not to warn every one night and day with tears." He can understand the force of that phrase which describes the

Christian Minister as "watching for souls"* with nights of sleepless anxiety. To him there is the daily "strain upon the head, and the still more distressing strain upon the heart." Such an one is a man of feeling, painfully alive to emotions which to others are unknown.

There is first of all the sense of overwhelming responsibility attaching to the sacred office. Wherever right views of the nature and obligations of the ministry are entertained, this feeling will of necessity act with painful intensity upon the heart. Who can think of the worth of souls redeemed at the cost of Christ's precious blood, and not tremble at the thought of being entrusted with an office which, in any measure, affects their salvation or their loss? Who can calmly reflect upon the incalculably important consequences which God has been pleased to connect with a due performance of ministerial functions, and not be overwhelmed by a feeling of the vast amount of responsibility which rests upon him who ministers in holy things. I doubt not the hearts of many before me have, at times, well nigh sunk under the thought of taking this responsibility upon themselves. themselves. I doubt not the solemn admonitions recently addressed to you by him, to whom, in this part of the Church, it pertains to call and send ministers into Christ's vineyard," has tended to deepen that feeling of responsibility. Sure I am of this, that if there be

Hebrews, xiii. 17-απσ

one amongst us to whom such a feeling is unknown, who has come hither as to some scene of scholastic probation, little thinking of the ulterior consequences resulting from this step, of the solemnity of the vows to be undertaken, of the strict account which is to be rendered, of the arduous duties which are to be performed---that person would be standing on safer ground, were he to take his station aloof from this hallowed spot, and to shrink from the holy scenes which are soon to be witnessed within these walls. Such a supposition, however, I will not entertain for a moment. No, my brethren, I will venture to assume that we are all here assembled, in the presence of God, to give ourselves in good earnest to the work of the ministry; on the one hand tremblingly alive to the awful responsibility under which we are about to place ourselves, while on the other we are earnestly praying for grace to strengthen and sustain us. Hardness indeed there will and must be in the ever pressing consciousness of that responsibility---in the constant "watching for souls, as they that must give account"---in the fearful jealousy of one's own inmost heart, lest through our inadvertence, or slothfulness, or cowardice, a single soul should perish "for which Christ died." Never, if we are true-hearted to our Master, can we escape from this feeling until our work is finished. It is a bad sign of our own spiritual condition, of the healthiness and prosperity of our own souls, when we have less distinct and vivid apprehensions of the worth

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of the souls of others, and of our personal responsibility, as the men to whom the charge of those souls appertains.

And there is another trial which, it is probable, will, more or less, fall to the lot of every faithful soldier of Christ. I mean the painful apprehension of want of success in our ministry. I do not say positive want of success, but the feeling of that want. The day of Christ will doubtless reveal facts, which will overwhelm every true minister of Christ with wondering thankfulness; and probably not one such minister will be found, who will then say, "I have laboured in vain, and spent my strengh for nought." But, with a few rare exceptions, perhaps every faithful minister is more or less exercised with desponding thoughts of his own apparent inefficiency. He has one object of supreme and absorbing desire, and, unless that object be attained, he cannot rest in complete satisfaction. Now, assuredly, God is often pleased to vouchsafe to his servants abundant and most cheering tokens of their usefulness. He fills their hearts with joy and gladness by permitting them to see the fruits of their labours, in the gradually improving appearance of the desert of moral and spiritual dreariness committed to their culture; in souls converted from sin to holiness; in the advancing faith and obedience of their people; and in the peaceful departure of those whom they have been the means of leading to Christ. These, for the most part, are bright and blessed periods of