by the consciousness that thereupon depends his regular supply of the necessaries of life. The desire of acquiring additional riches—of living in a more splendid mansion, or of enjoying more expensive pleasures, sharpens the ingenuity, and stimulates the zeal with which the merchant prosecutes his commercial speculations. The arm of the warrior is nerved to more daring feats of courage, and amid the thunder of the fight, the pulse of his ambition beats with a quicker throb, by the conviction that exploits of successful heroism will bind the laurel on his brow, and enrol him among those whom the world has baptized as her noblest children.

But while all men are, in one sphere or another, putting forth a certain amount of energy and exertion, the energy and the exertion are, with every prudent man, proportioned to the value of the end which they are employed to promote. That which is comparatively trifling, awakens not such ardour, nor moves to such vigorous efforts, as that which is intrinsically valuable; and so generally is this esteemed a reasonable principle of conduct, that did we see an individual straining every nerve, and spending much time in the pursuit of the veriest trifles, we would at once accuse him, if not of mental imbecility, at least of folly equalled only by that of him who would deliberately prefer a grain of sand to a pound of gold-the coarsest crystal to the purest diamond. On the other hand, if the man who sought to signalize himself, even among the most distinguished, but whose exertions, at the same time, were slender and irregular, we could not but affirm, either that he had no proper estimate of the attainment which he desired, or that he acted as absurdly as would the man who wished to build an enduring edifice, and yet laid its foundation in the sand. A degree of industry corresponding to the value of the object which is desired, and to the difficulties which attends its acquisition, is seldom awanting, when the prospect of secular advantage is presented. Once let a man be persuaded, that, in some newly discovered

path, there are things beautiful and rare, which, by diligence, may be added to his portion, and with an untiring energy will he run and labour that they may be his own. Point out to him an object more valuable than any which he has already in possession-tell him of some hitherto unknown mine of wealth-show him some elevated station, up which he may ascend to greatness and to honour; and he will labour that the object may be his; and he will dig that the riches may be poured into his treasury; and he will climb that he may stand upon the eminence. The prospect of advantage impels him to exertion, and the exertion is regulated in its amount by his estimate of the advantage. This being so very generally the case, it seems reasonable to argue, that if we can present you with an object, the equal of which man's hands cannot fashion, and the beauty of which man's heart cannot conceive an object, in short, which confers upon its possessors the most exquisite and imperishable happiness,—if, we say, we can present you with such an object, and offer you the assurance of the God who cannot lie, that it may become yours, we are entitled to argue, that for its possession you not only ought, but actually will, labour to the utmost of your power, and that you will hunger and thirst after its attainment as keenly as does the famishing pilgrim for the bread and the water, by which alone immediate death can be averted. Such an object is in the text represented as a rest; but before either explaining the duty which the Apostle enjoins, or enforcing the necessity of its performance, we shall, in the first place, endeavour to ascertain wherein this rest consists; in other words, to determine the object for which we are to labour.

The meaning which the Apostle attached to the expression, may be discovered by a reference to the preceding context. At the commencement of the chapter he asserts, that the promise of a future rest is as truly addressed to Christians under the gospel, as it was to the Israelites under the

law. Lest, however, it might be objected, that the ancient Scriptures give intimation of no other rest than that of the seventh day, and that of the inheritance of Canaan, he proceeds to demonstrate, that the rest for which he was anxious that the Hebrew converts should strenuously labour, is at once spiritual and heavenly in its nature. With this view, he first of all adverts to the fact, that believers under the gospel economy are warranted to anticipate its enjoyment; a fact which, of itself, is sufficient to prove, that the rest of which he here speaks, is different both from the Sabbatical rest, and the rest of the promised land, and which difference is put beyond dispute by the quotation which he adduces from the 95th Psalm,-" As I have sworn in my wrath if they shall enter into my rest." This oath, be it remembered, was sworn at a period subsequent to the institution of the Sabbath; at a time when the Jews were in the enjoyment of its privileges, and, therefore, it must have been from some other rest which it threatened to exclude them. What, then, was the rest into which God sware that the murmuring and disobedient Israelites should not be admitted? Unquestionably, in the first instance, it was the inheritance of Canaan, in which reference, the oath was terribly fulfilled at the time, when, in consequence of unbelief and rebellion, the whole multitude who came out of Egypt, with the exception of Caleb and Joshua, perished in the wilderness. But the oath was repeated as a warning to the contemporaries of Davidto a generation of the Israelites who were in possession of the goodly land promised to their fathers, so that there must have been another rest into which they were invited to enter. And when, after the abrogation of the Mosaic, and the establishment of the Christian dispensation, we find the Apostle urging his converted countrymen, by the very same arguments which were addressed to their ancestors, to labour, that they might enter into the provided rest; we think it fair to conclude, that as the literal Jerusalem was typical of

the "city which hath foundations," so, by a parity of reasoning, must Canaan be considered as typical of that rest which "remaineth to the people of God."

Heaven, then, is the object specified in the text, and we

wish

you to understand in what sense heaven may be denominated a rest. Most erroneously will we interpret the expression, if we consider it as indicating a complete exemption from activity, or a state of unbroken idleness and sloth. The assertion is, we think, in harmony with the revelations of Scripture, that in heaven all will be strenuous, uninterrupted, perpetual labour,-not the labour, indeed, which on earth sweats, and fatigues, and bows down the children of the dust, but industry in the exercise of perfected faculties,the labour which is employed in the service of the King of Saints. In heaven" there shall be no more curse; but the throne of God and the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him." "Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple." Independent of such testimony, it were demonstrable, that if such labour constituted no part of its blessedness, heaven would be no heaven at all; and we could scarcely conceive a condition more replete with wretchedness than that which it would present, if it excluded its inhabitants from those occupations for which they have the most vehement desire, and in which they experience the most exquisite delight. Considering that, in addition to intellectual powers, which have reached their full development, and affections which are at once purified and ennobled, they have material bodies which have been transformed into a likeness to the body of the Lord, we hold, that there must be objects on which these shall find befitting exercise, and in the constant enjoyment and prosecution of which, they shall reap a more than adequate compensation for all the trials and sufferings endured upon the earth. We cannot, indeed, accurately delineate the nature of these objects, neither can we minutely describe

E

the labours of the ransomed spirit. But we know that there are depths and heights in the government of God, and that in exploring these, it will find unceasing employment. There are scenes clothed with the brightest radiance, gradually unfolding, and in the eager contemplation of these, there shall rise within it a rapture, which will swell the chorus of its song. For what use are those lyres of gold if, for ever, they are to discourse no music?-those palms of unfading verdure, if they are to wither and droop in the hands of their possessors?—that temple of sunless, yet surpassing light, if no sacrifice is ever to be offered upon its altars, and` the voice of no worshippers to be heard within its walls? O! from such kind of labour, it cannot be that the glorified believer will ever rest. It will occupy his time for ever. It will engage his energies for ever. And if you supposė that the moment will arrive, when such activity shall cease in the mansions of the redeemed, you suppose a time when the serpents trail shall curse the paradise of God, and when heaven, shorn of its beauty, and spoiled of its riches, shall become, even to its perfected inhabitants, a place of deep and intolerable wretchedness.

It is not, therefore, in an exemption from such labour that heaven is a state of rest; nor shall we discover the reason why it is so denominated, unless we consider it in contrast with those evils which beset the Christian's pilgrimage. The sacred writers represent life as a season during which the believer must wrestle and struggle with opposing forces; as a race, in which there is no halting, but a straining of every nerve, and a putting forth of every energy to gain the prize. In passing from the Egypt of spiritual bondage, to the seats of everlasting freedom, he is called to the maintenance of a ceaseless warfare. The space which intervenes between his first entrance upon the divine life in this world, and its triumphant consummation in the next, is not every where spread with flowers, nor illumined with sun