Masonic Sermon.

seed of the Church . Observe that with that spirit of saintly courage ' St . John manifested another spirit—the spirit of saintly disinterestedness . Men might be _ _ often have been—very courageous in opposing evil in othersbut self-seeking

, while engaged in that opposition . The courage of St . John was not the courage of one trying to make selfish capital out of personal influence . However disappointed were those of his adherents who informed

him that crowds attended the ministry of tiim to whom he had borne witness , so far was he from having any share in or sympathy with such a feeling , that he instantly expressed gratification at the receipt of the intelligence . He was not , as he told themthe Bridegroombut the

, , Bridegroom ' s friend , who stood and heard him , and rejoiced greatly because of the Bridegroom ' s voice . " The Sun of Righteousness " had risen mercy ' s firmament , with healing in His wings , and the Baptist was fully conscious that his own

light must pale before the radiance of a luminary whose brightness should become increasingly apparent as He ran His course to enlighten and bless the successive generations of mankind . His thoughts

were upon the majesty of the wondrous heing who had publicly appeared , whose ministry was to supersede his own , and in the language not of regret , but of unfeigned joy and unselfish satisfaction he said , " He must increase , but I must decrease . " Now , with these suggestive words before them

, lie would first direct attention to a truth , the consideration of which mi ght prove salutary , though it be distasteful . It was quite possible to bring a spirit of selfseeking to the performance of duties which had about them all the aspect of sacredness

, while there was manifested no inconsiderable degree of energy in connection with wli gious movements . The growth of Personal influence mi ght be desired , aud "' at from motives which could not for an

instant bear the test of that word of which ¦ t had been written that it was quick , powerful , stronger than any two-edged sword , aud a discern er of the thoughts aud stents of the heart . In the Baptist his tofiuence fostered no selfish feeling , and W W it declined he could resign it , and ev eu feel pleasure in resigning it . He was a man who buried thoughts of self beneath

the adoring contemplation of the greatness of Him from whom he held his commission . But how often had it been far otherwise 1 The history of the Church had repeatedly furnished proof that men can be far more zealously engaged in the effort to make partisans than win souls ; that they can devote more energy to the formation of sects to be called after their own names

than to the endeavour to lead others to glorify the Name which is above every other . To be content to be surpassed by agents more gifted , endowed with superior intelligence , animated with ardent zeal to be ready to submit to the Divine will , that personal effort should be outdone by that

of others—to be willing to be forgotten if the Saviour be exalted . This was indeed a feeling which reproachfully contrasts with that of the spiritually proud , of those who entertain self-confident opinions of their qualifications for Christian usefulness .

Perils follow in the wake of privileges , and even take their character from the natuie of those privileges in the wake of which they follow . Public influence for good was an unspeakable privilege , but it brought great danger to those who

neglected self-examination . It was of the utmost importance to those exposed tos uch danger that they should often , in retirement when alone with God , weigh their motives in the unerring balances of His truth . Often should they put to themselves such

questions as these—How much is there of self in this act , which has the appearance oi being disinterested 1 How does it look to the Searcher of hearts 1 Would I be

disposed to manifest the same interest in this or that religious movement were my name not to be published upon the lists of its supporters 1 Am I labouring in the cause of Him by whose name I am called , and to serve whom I am baptismally pledged by obligations which cannot be

exceeded in solemnity , labouring with singleness of aim , or false to those obligations ? Am I yielding to the promptings of selfishness , neglecting the duty of subordinating my own unruly will to that of Him who "pleased not Himself ?" Have I reasonable ground for belief that I am in any degree actuated by a spirit kindred to that of unselfish dedication to

his Divine Master s cause , which form its expression in the words of His forerunner N 2